#the thing on martyn's neck is a heart

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

i did a lil art of my fave lil streamer man :0

also first time drawing martyn i think i did alright

(can you tell where my comfort zone in art is lmao)

#inthelittlewood #itlwart #inthelittlewood art #martyn inthelittlewood #owengejuicetv #owengejuice #mcyt fanart #fanart #traditional art #ARTE FELIX ARTE #limited life #limlife #24life #24l #oh and btw #the thing on martyn's neck is a heart #cuz in my headcanon the life series members have their hearts on their necks #so like #green heart #yellow heart #red heart #in that order #so the crossed-out thing is martyn's green heart #symbolizing that he's out of green life

[mochiwrites]

I desperately need to do something with this secret life au I have bouncing around in my brain. so! snippet/warm up time.

( it’d be really cool if I got any asks about it. and maybe some reblogs 👉👈 )

———————————

Grian’s wings flutter at his sides as he stands before the Secret Keeper. He feels his feathers ruffle with the wind as a breeze goes past, the wings at his head twitching. He’s oblivious to the world around him, eyes glued to the mossy rock formation in front of him. It’s a good thing it isn’t night, else Grian could be at risk of losing very precious hearts if a mob were to sneak up on him.

Though that isn’t something he has to worry about, not at the Secret Keeper statue.

He purses his lips, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes practically burn holes into the statue. Or well, they probably would, if the statue were made from something flammable. He feels like he’s entered a staring contest with the Secret Keeper, a weird feeling for a lifeless statue.

Except this statue doesn’t feel very lifeless. It’s been making Grian a bit uneasy since the game began, leaving him to wonder if They did something to it.

There’s certainly something odd about the statue, Grian knows this for sure. He’s felt drawn to it since the game began, like it’s been calling to him. Whispering at him. He isn’t exactly the Listening type, it’s all lost on him. His Eyes don’t do him much either, unfortunately.

“What is it about you?” he muses, speaking to a statue that cannot speak back. He stares at its face, the wide eyes and curved mouth that seems frozen in a smirk. The hood looks like it’s been intricately cut out in the stone, like someone had been an agonizingly long time into making sure it was perfect.

This isn’t the first time Grian has done this, just stared up at the Secret Keeper. He can’t help it. The statue feels so familiar, like Grian has seen it somewhere before. No… maybe it’s more than that.

It’s like Grian knows this statue, the Secret Keeper. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, tugging on some part of him that he doesn’t have access to. It tugs on his soul, his very being and essence, and like being led by string, Grian finds himself back here every time.

He doesn’t understand.

Grian takes a step forward, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. The wings of his feathers fluff up. “Who are you to me?” he questions, desperate for some kind of answer. “Why do I feel like I know you?” It’s pointless, he knows. A statue isn’t going to suddenly start speaking to him. It’s inanimate. Stone. It will not answer. Yet Grian stubbornly asks his questions anyway.

He stares up at the statue, frustration dipping his brow as his lips tilt low.

“Whatcha doing?”

A startled squawk sounds from Grian as he turns around on his heel, brown eyes meeting blue. He finds the amused face of Martyn, forcing the avian to let out a breath.

“Martyn,” he sighs, “You can’t do that, man!”

Martyn immediately breaks into laughter, very clearly finding enjoyment from Grian’s reaction. “Sorry, sorry! You make it too easy dude. You’re even easier to sneak up on than Timmy is.”

Grian looks at him as if offended by the comment, “I’ll have you know that Tim is very easy to startle. You just sneak up on me when I’m deep in thought!”

“Too busy ogling the Secret Keeper to notice me sneakin’ up, huh?” Martyn retorts, lips curling into a slight smirk.

“I wasn’t ogling it!” Grian’s wings fan out, flapping slightly in agitation. “I was studying it!”

Martyn hums, not buying Grian’s excuse but not bothering to call him out on it. “And what were you ‘studying’ this time, Grian?”

He pauses now, steam being pushed out of him at Martyn’s question. His wings drop along with his shoulders as he lets out a quiet breath, turning his attention back to the statue. He doesn’t answer immediately, staring at it with a confused expression. “This might sound crazy but… does the Secret Keeper feel… familiar at all?” he slowly asks as he looks back to Martyn.

The man stares at him, looking absolutely lost, if a bit concerned. “You feeling alright dude? Or is this your task or something?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and no it’s not my task.” Grian frowns. “Can you just answer the question?” Thinly veiled patience is laced in his voice, something Martyn can pick out easily after having known Grian for so long.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs, directing his attention to the statue in front of them. He hums, narrowing his gaze slightly. “Nothin’ familiar about it I’m afraid. Creepy smile though.”

“Creepy?” Grian parrots, joining Martyn in looking at the statue. He frowns faintly, “I don’t know… I think it’s kinda nice. Cheeky. A bit silly, y’know? The smile of someone mischievous.”

Martyn turns to look back at Grian, eyes shining with soft concern, “Look, Grian, unless your task is to spend hours ogling this thing, you might wanna get a move on. We’re in a death game, remember?” His stare turns a little colder, harsher. “We’re not gonna be all buddy buddy for very long.”

Grian knows he’s right. There’s no point in wasting time trying to figure out a brain puzzle with no clues. He’s not focusing on what’s important (isn’t the important thing that missing piece? The fracture somewhere?) and it could cost him greatly. Except his eyes trail back to the Secret Keeper’s gray ones (he wonders what they’d look like if they were green), staring at them. It’s like those eyes stare right back at him.

He frowns before sighing. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just hard not to be curious,” he weakly argues, shrugging. “I feel like I know him from someplace, except I don’t know where.”

Martyn is quiet for a moment, eyes faraway. “…I guess I get that,” he relents, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Have fun with your stone Romeo. I’m gonna hit the road and get back to completing my task.”

Grian makes a spluttering sound at that, “S-Stone Romeo?! It’s nothing like that!”

( Above them, the Secret Keeper watches on in sadness. This feels like some kind of punishment. It’s agony, torture. It’s worse than hiding away in his valley all alone, wishing for friends. He wants to reach out. ‘I’m right here!’ He wishes to scream.

He Watches as Grian spares him one last glance, hesitation in his expression. He turns on his heel and walks away.

Scar wishes he could call for him.)

#mochi writes #scarian #trafficshipping #it’s not in your face but it’s intended #slsmp spoilers #secret keeper au

[tunastime]

hehe hi myke, thanks for sending this in my dms <3 here's your song! it's quelle suprise, which I originally read the lyrics wrong in because I don't speak french, but I think now after reading it. rarrrg. anyway! this is just such a bop, so not a lot of replays! I found it late in the year (and I know I sent it to you already lol)

(536 words)

There is something very wrong with Etho.

Or maybe there isn’t. Who’s Bdubs to know every thought inside his head, apparently? Who’s Bdubs to think he understands him? Bdubs is a red life now. The sludge of trigger fingers and loose cannons and live-wires all mingles with blood, hot and red, in his veins. It was always red, always hot, heightened now, to a dizzying sting. He can hear it thump around his head when he listens closely, hear it chanting for more. 

He’s starting to piece things together that he thinks maybe he shouldn’t. It’s hard. Bdubs sits on his hands, screwing up his face as he squeezes himself into a small space of his upside-down base. It’s hard trying to figure this out. What Etho's thinking. His heart feels like a creature begging to flee from his chest, slamming against the front half of his ribcage like it might break apart and let it out into the world. At the same time, that thumping hurts, because there’s an awful squeeze in his chest. He’s not been able to breathe right for a while. Probably since the moment Etho laughed at him before he went to kill that dragon.

That’s funny though, isn’t it? Etho promises things so easily, but when it comes time to deliver he’s always finding shortcuts. Like how he didn’t agree when Bdubs asked how much he would give for him? There was no equal half, was there?

Bdubs was making a mistake, wasn’t he? Wasn’t that the worst part?

Well maybe he wasn’t! Maybe Etho was more afraid of Cleo than he was Bdubs—of course he would side with someone who could help him the most. Certainly not dead weight. Which Bdubs assumed he was again. Though Joel and Martyn, and Mumbo when he was there, and Pearl even, were more than willing to help out with whatever needed to be done. And that was easy for them. So why couldn’t Etho say anything? Why couldn’t he just lie to him? What kind of game was Bdubs playing at, that Etho felt so confident that he would never have a task that asked him to twist the knife already in Bdubs’ chest? He’s sorry. He’s sorry. Etho didn’t ask him to put the knife there. He took it from Etho’s hands and put it in his chest and he thought maybe that would make things better, rather than worse.

It isn’t Etho’s fault. Etho’s playing his game. Bdubs knows that. So he’s not mad at him—well, he won’t be mad at him when he leaves the game and Etho crawls his way into his lap and presses his face to the juncture of his neck and says he’s sorry. Because he’s always sorry. Bdubs wonders if—no. No. Bdubs swallows down the taste in the back of his throat. He’s done wondering. And he’s done letting Etho’s excuses sit heavy in his chest like they might be armor instead of eating him alive.

He stands up, fishing the pocket watch from his pocket.

It’s still early. The cracked surface reflects back only a portion of his face.

For now, the clock stays intact. But Bdubs can imagine the satisfying crunch it might make when his heel grinds against it.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)

#fics #text #spotify wrapped ask meme #IM FINE ABOUT THIS ONE. UM. IM OKAY WITH IT #ITS FINE GUYS ITS ALL FINE THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME

[minecraftbookshelf]

Life Series Scarring Headcanons: Part 2

All the disclaimers and explanations are on Part 1, so if you haven't seen that one yet, I recommend hopping over there real quick.

Some of these do get a bit...graphic? Specific? Something along those lines. I kind of split the middle ground between Video Game and more realistic injuries. (Did I spend way to long thinking about specifics of murder and death for this? I plead the fifth.)

This one is Grian, ImpulseSV, InTheLittleWood, and LDShadowLady

Lessgo!

Grian

Third Life: In my mind's eye Grian has always turned to look at the sky after his leap from the cactus ring, so the death blow was to the back of his head.

Last Life: Scott killed him when the late-game reds banded together to hunt down Grian and Joel. The other members of the alliance dealt damage, but Scott got the final hit in. Grian was fleeing at the time, so the scar is on his back, above his wings.

Double Life: Because sonic booms don't leave external evidence so much as they remove your insides from anything vaguely approaching a solid state, there isn't a scar as such from this death. There is a mark though, mid-mass. (it is not concentric circles, that's just what I put on the diagram to mark the location)

Limited Life: Fall damage again, based off the "camera angle" the general vibe I got was that Grian could have tried to catch himself on his hands as he fell. From that height, it was futile and there are faint marks on his wrists where the bone poked through as well as the actual death blow to the side of his forehead. Bird Man needs to stop falling off things fr.

Impulse

Third Life: Bdubs shot him after Scar gave him a clock in the most infamous backstabbing in the series to date. Usually when Bdubs shot someone I place the mark a bit lower, but they were on a bit of a hill at the time.

Last Life: In what was something of the fashion on the Last Life server, Scott shot him. He was trying to flee when he was shot, so I placed the mark at the base of his skull. (If only they were able to wear helmets)

Double Life: Pearl killed Bdubs with a blow to the front, so Impulse has a fainter scar from that death.

Limited Life: In the new contender for most infamous backstabbing in the series (poor Impulse has some rotten luck here) Martyn pretended to go along with the "disarm and fight it out" plan only to turn on them and seize the victory. Impulse wasn't wearing his armor, so the final blow was a sword through his torso that severed his spine.

Martyn

Third Life: Martyn died in the Battle of Dogwarts, to an arrow from Scar. Due to how helter skelter the melee was, I opted to have it be an off-center shot that tore the side of his neck, so it is not a clean mark. (It mirrors Ren's on the opposite side)

Last Life: He was blown up by his own end crystal, (probably triggered by a potion Scott threw) which was placed level with the top half of his body and he was literally right next to it facing it. He didn't even have time to try and shield himself with his arms.

Double Life: He died when Cleo took fall damage while fleeing from Pearl and her dogs. This is one where I took some creative liberties and opted to have the fall damage interpret as a tree branch that Cleo landed on with the full force of their own body weight, impaling herself by accident.

Limited Life: Whether going with his time ran out or Grian smote him, either way it is a death by lightning and the scars are lichtenberg figures down his chest and arm and a little bit his back. The smitey-lightning always goes for the heart, so he and Scott match now. (it also leaves a mark on the sole of the foot when it exits the body and enters the ground, but that doesn't show on the diagram.)

Lizzie

She has only perma-died in one season, even though she has technically been in two. In Last Life she ultimately died to fall damage while trying to fight back and escape from BDubs when he betrayed the other reds. Her scar is hidden by her hair.

-

Part 1

Part 3

#trafficblr #life series #third life smp #last life smp #double life smp #limited life smp #grian #impulsesv #inthelittlewood #ldshadowlady #rain rambles #life series headcanons #traffic life scars

[wren-kitchens]

oh if you didn’t stay (I would wait anyway)

it does make him think though, that maybe, if he was still so determined to ignore it all, he could have blamed the warmth in his face and chest on the fires that had been surrounding him and ren for the past half hour rather than the man accompanying him for a pretty lengthy improv session. honestly, he isn’t quite sure when he decided to stop lying to himself, but he didn’t realise how.. freeing it was until this moment—to be able to feel and feel- and to let himself feel. a smile has been unmoving from his face since he first started talking, and his cheeks hurt, and martyn doesn’t care. void. he really missed ren, huh?

this is a secret santa gift for @loveroped!! I haven’t written treebark before, so I hope I did them justice hkfhd

can you tell i’m messing around with the way I format things here

martyn might have just had the best day. like- ever.

of course, he’s not sure if anything could top a reunion with ren, regardless of the circumstances. not to discredit decked out, of course- it’s an amazing game! a wonderful game! it’s extremely clever and fun and interesting and he loves it very much.

(martyn is pretty sure that the game can both hear and understand his thoughts. after his experiences with thought-reading things, he is not about to take any chances.)

it does make him think though, that maybe, if he was still so determined to ignore it all, he could have blamed the warmth in his face and chest on the fires that had been surrounding him and ren for the past half hour rather than the man accompanying him for a pretty lengthy improv session. honestly, he isn’t quite sure when he decided to stop lying to himself, but he didn’t realise how.. freeing it was until this moment—to be able to feel and feel- and to let himself feel. a smile has been unmoving from his face since he first started talking, and his cheeks hurt, and martyn doesn’t care.

void. he really missed ren, huh?

“man, they need to make more rifts.” martyn says, leaning against the blessedly cold wall of the citadel, eyes closed. “this has been so fun.”

ren chuckles, and martyn’s heart jolts as he realises that they are much closer than he thought they were. “you’ve been in the actual game like- once, dude.”

martyn hums, cracking an eye open. “who said I was talking about the game?”

“I-“ ren’s breath audibly stutters, and martyn finds his own has been swept from his lungs. when did he start holding it? “you mean the- pictionary, and stuff?”

“kinda.” martyn looks down, realising that his newfound confidence has left him entirely. oh good, that’s exactlywhat he needs right now. “y’know and the- the people who I don’t.. see as much.”

martyn can feel ren’s eyes on him, burning into his skin. “it’s been amazing to see you again, dude.” ren says with just enough honesty to make martyn feel as if he could be floating.

when martyn looks back up at ren, he’s smiling the smallest, softest smile martyn has ever seen grace his face. in truth, martyn thinks that may just be the best thing he has ever seen in his life; he wants to put that smile in a locket and keep it around his neck forever.

“you as well.” martyn says, maybe too genuinely.

ren’s face flushes in pleasure, and he squishes down a very obvious smile. martyn might just be in love. “well, i’m- i’m glad.”

martyn grins, nudging ren with his shoulder. “what, you didn’t think I missed you?”

there’s a quiet thumping noise that martyn thinks is coming from behind ren. probably just all the machinery behind decked out making itself known. “well, I- y’know. I found myself.. hoping that you would but.. I was never sure.”

“aw, c’mon,” martyn says, voice far more casual than the reaction to that statement should be- than it is. because- man, is it a weird feeling to be the cause of nervousness, to be the cause of that ‘does-he doesn’t-he?’ feeling. “I was practically lamenting over you. just ask jimmy; i’ve been so annoying.”

ren snorts a little, and some of the tension that martyn didn’t notice was between them dissipates. “I have to admit that i’ve already had a complaint from jimmy.” he says it like a joke, but there’s a distinct undertone of fondness that sends martyn’s mind reeling.

“well, there you go.” martyn grins. “i’m nothing without my king.”

“no.” ren says softly. so softly, in fact, that martyn suspects ren never meant him to hear it in the first place, but he just- he can’t stop listening; not when ren sounds so sure, so honest. “you’re everything.”

before he can stop it, a gasp escapes martyn’s lips, and ren’s eyes widen as he seems to realise that he was not as quiet as he meant to be. martyn wants to respond, to let ren know he feels the same as—well, whatever ren is feeling right now, it sounds pretty fucking close to what martyn is feeling—but his voice is stuck in his throat. 

“i’m sorry- I shouldn’t-“ ren looks almost scared, and martyn silently begs his voice to return. he can’t let ren sit there and not know-

“I love you.” martyn blurts, breathless and a little too loud, but ren is looking at him as if he’s the only person in the world, so he doesn’t stop. “I think- for several years now, and i can’t keep doing the- the skirting around our feelings thing, because all i’ve been doing this whole time is pining over you and- i’ve had enough of waiting, okay. so i’m- i’m telling you now, and you can do whatever you want with this information. but i just- I love you. always have.”

“I- martyn.” ren half whispers, looking for all the world as if martyn had just given him bedrock or a block of void or- or something very good. he’s running out of metaphors, okay, leave him be. martyn vaguely notices the quiet thumping returning. what part of the game could that be?

“that’s- that’s me.” martyn says, unsure whether to be reassured or terrified by ren’s response.

“I can’t- I don’t even-“ ren stammers, running a hand through his hair. martyn is leaning towards terrified when ren finally lands on- “I love you. this whole time, i’ve loved you, and I thought- oh my goodness.” he gives a huff of laughter. “you’re serious?”

“am I ser- of course i’m serious!” martyn grabs ren’s hand, who is smiling more than martyn thinks he’s ever seen ren smile. “you thought i’d pour my heart out for it to be a bit?” he laughs.

“well I- you’re very committed sometimes y’know.” ren grins, intertwining his fingers with martyn’s. 

“it has been- what, three years now?” martyn leans into him. “I am extremely committed to you. i’m probably too committed, honestly.”

“asking someone to kill you is a great way to flirt—who knew?” ren says, mock-solemn, and martyn cackles.

“i’ll have to try it some day.” martyn teases, looking up and finding himself much closer to ren’s face than he expected to be. 

and- okay, martyn won’t pretend that he’s never watched ren just a little too closely from across a room, or that his gaze has never lingered for a few seconds too long after ren left, or even that he hadn’t found himself lost in his eyes—cheesy as it is. 

but this- this is different. because martyn has never admitted his love before, and ren has never reciprocated those feelings before, and so there’s never been a moment where he could just look and look and look until right now. and you’d be kidding yourself if you don’t think that martyn is sure as shit going to take advantage of that.

“you know,” martyn murmurs, reaching a hand up to brush the stubble on ren’s jaw, watching with the utmost interest as ren melts ever so slightly into the touch. “I don’t think i’ve been able to do this before.”

“do, uh- do what?” ren’s voice comes out just a little too high for it to be entirely natural. martyn suppresses a smile and the thumping grows faster.

“look at you while you’re looking back.” martyn says simply, and oh, that shy little grin that slips onto ren’s face is perhaps the most gorgeous thing martyn has ever seen.

ren rubs a thumb against martyn’s hand that he still holds, and- okay, maybe martyn’s insides have gone all mushy because of it, but who are you to judge? “then I think we must have kept missing each other.”

it takes a moment for martyn to process the words. when he has, he pouts jokingly—even as his mind reels. “what, you’re telling me I could have been doing this years ago?”

“that is absolutely what i’m telling you.” ren grins. is he getting closer? martyn thinks he might be getting closer.

“well then,” martyn says, and the smoothness of his voice sounds entirely ludicrous when his brain is so frantic, it’s probably on fire. ren is leaning forward, and martyn thinks he might be too, and they’re getting so close to each other that martyn can feel ren’s breath ghosting his lips. “I guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“I suppose we shall.” ren’s voice is low and soft, and martyn thinks he might just die.

that is until their lips meet and martyn decides- no, he knows he’s going to die. because ren’s hand is in his hair, and martyn’s is still cupping ren’s cheek, and it turns out that ren’s lips are exactly as soft as martyn always imagined them to be and he’s going a little crazy over it.

the kiss is fairly short, but martyn feels like his brain has entirely short-circuited by the time they part—in the best possible way. 

“we- that happened.” martyn stammers. “oh my god. I didn’t think i’d ever-“

“I thought i’d chicken out.” ren sounds equally astonished at his own confidence. “I- dude, you are a great kisser.” martyn’s face burns and ren puts a hand in front of his mouth in an obvious attempt to keep from laughing. “well you are!”

“I- thank you, I-“ martyn can’t see himself, but he’s fairly certain that he is beet-red right now. 

the thumping returned the moment they kissed and has not left, and martyn realises it is far too close to be part of the machinery. regardless, it sounds familiar somehow; the weight behind it, the rhythm of the thuds, the softness of it. martyn knows he doesn’t have the best memory on the server, but he’s pretty sure he should be able to remember what-

wait a second.

“ren,” martyn says, a grin creeping slowly onto his face. “are you wagging your tail?”

it’s kind of cute how fast ren goes from cocky to deeply flustered within a matter of seconds. it’s also very funny, especially as ren’s ears—which were resting casually—are now stuck straight up into the air.

“I- I don’t know what you mean!” ren says in a failed attempt at his usual suaveness. martyn stifles a laugh. “i’d- that’s a preposterous thing to suggest, you-“

martyn, deciding to test a theory, leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to ren’s lips (he is never gonna get over the fact he can just do that now) and watches with glee as ren’s tail wags even harder.

“I.. might be wagging my tail, yes.” ren mumbles, thoroughly embarrassed.

martyn fails to stifle another laugh, and ren honest-to-void pouts. “oh my- ren.” 

“yep?” ren practically squeaks. he clears his throat, blushing pink. “um- just pretend you don’t see that.”

“why would I do that?” martyn teases. “it’s cute.”

“you say cute, I say embarrassing.” ren says, but he’s grinning shyly, and man if that isn’t the best thing martyn has seen all day.

“ren, trust me when i say that if I had a tail, it’d be entirely a blur by now.” martyn half laughs. “I love seeing you happy.”

“then you’re in a great amount of luck,” ren says, and his gaze drifts to martyn’s lips. martyn would make fun of him, if he weren’t so flustered by it that he’d forgotten the english language. “because seeing you has never failed to bring me joy.”

martyn feels all the air leave his lungs. “you- i haven’t-“ he stammers a few more failed attempts at a sentence before landing on, “oh- just kiss me.”

ren grins, and his canines push ever so slightly against his lower lip, and martyn is going to die. “gladly.”

and- okay, it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but.. well. they may have gotten a tad carried away, and before they knew it, jimmy’s turn was over and tango was looking for martyn. it’s not his fault, okay! when you’ve been wanting someone for as long as martyn has wanted ren (and vice versa apparently, which- no, martyn is never gonna get over that), time starts to fly a little.

so when tango stumbled upon them both, accompanied by half the guests and half the hermits, that was entirely not martyn’s fault! in fact, it was theirs for being so damn quiet. if they were louder, ren would have heard them, and then they would have time to- stop making out.

yeah. martyn is never gonna live this down.

#treebark #renchanting #renchanting duo #dogwarts #how many tags do these guys have- #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #<- jic #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #rendog #renthedog #trafficblr #wren writes

[life-winners-liveblog]

Since a couple people are asking. could you.. describe how you view the winners’ appearances? Like the injuries and outfits maybe, me personally will figure it out from there cause I too wanna make fanart of this ✨

Also if you want, you could include some of the others like SL! Or LimL!Jimmy, DL!Scott & 3L!Scar 👀 /nf

-winners-

3L!Grian- Constantly bleeding from hi head, at this point in time the wound is covered by bandages and his hair. He has 2 purple wings one of which is bent and halfhazardly bandaged as well. For clothing either the classic red sweater (or the orange sun sweater) + a brown poncho... Eyes should be purple but sometimes have a red sheen.

LL!Scott: Start with Last Life Scott, add a star crown, lightning scars on his arms and neck and make his eyes kinda glowy and red or cyan in color whatever you prefer... That's about it.

DL!Pearl: Wears her Scarlet Pearl outfit except the hood has like crescent moons on it. She has a heart shaped burn on her shoulder (kinda unlikely you will need to know that for a drawing but who knows) and her fingers are a little blue... Her eyes are green but sometimes go red.

LimL!Martyn: Missing his left ear, there is no scar or anything It's just not there, only one whose eyes are still red constantly. Wears his mean gills fanon outfit and has coral growing on him.

-others-

LimL!Jimmy: Wears bad boy outfit glasses included and has 2 golden wings one of which is a bit burnt because of the tnt minecart exploding, before the enderian-ification his right eye was completely white like no iris or anything but now It's completely purple like that of an enderman ...he also has ender particles around him now.

3L!Scar: Still has gray skin but the color scheme of his clothes has changed completely. The brown of his pants, shoes and hat has been replaced by a very dark purple and his poncho is white and purple (normal not dark) with a repeating eye shape pattern. Ironically only one without wounds as the Watchers healed him.

DL!Scott: Just Double Life Scott except for 3 things, the cloud of explosion smoke that surrounds him, the glowing string (the soulbound) around his neck and his almost gray eyes.

SL!Jimmy: Similiarly to LimL!Jimmy he has two golden wings, the difference being that his are completely unhurt... his shoulder is covered in sculk but it doesn't seem to do anything.

[redacted]: gray skin, gray hair, the only color that can be found is the ////// of his sweater and the //// in his hands.

#asks #trafficblr #traffic series #author answers #character description

[redwinterroses]

Rendog dreams.

"So you're trying the whole king thing again, huh boss?"

He's standing on the balcony of the Crastle and he whirls around, snatching the tiny crown off his head as if he's been caught doing something shameful. "Martyn?"

Martyn leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and one foot propped up on the doorframe. He's got a smirk on his face and an arrow in his throat.

"What?" he asks, raising one eyebrow the sardonic way he always does, apparently unbothered by the fatal wound. "Surprised to see me?"

"To be frank," Ren says, disbelieving, "Yeah?"

"I heard my old boss was setting up as head honcho again." Martyn shrugs. "Couldn't miss out on that."

There's crimson staining the grey edges of the Hand's smile, and his once-emerald eyes are flat and glassy. Ren swallows down a feeling that's somewhere between guilt and horror and guilt over feeling horror.

"It's... good to see you," he manages, turning the tiny crown in sweaty circles. His thumb catches on the prongs holding the emerald in place. "It's been a long time, bro."

A shadow darkens Martyn's grey face and he looks past Ren, into the cloudy sky beyond. There's a storm building on the horizon. "Yeah," he says, and some note in his voice makes Ren's fur stand on end. "I don't... get out much, these days."

A moment of awkward silence hovers over them, and Ren finds himself itchy with restless frustration. They never used to have awkward silence. Whether it was him mumbling enchantments or Martyn going over lists of assets, whether it was Ren trying to explain the oddities of Hermitcraft or Martyn telling hilarious stories that got progressively more unbelievable but he swore were true... Silence had never been the sound of Dogwarts.

"Why?"

Ren jumps when Martyn's voice breaks the silence like a hammer to glass. "What?"

Martyn pushes himself upright and takes a step closer, letting his arms fall to his sides. It's not threatening, but Ren finds his feet shuffling backwards anyway. He clutches the crown tighter.

"Why again with the king shtick?" Martyn's dead eyes drill into Ren's soul. "One fallen kingdom isn't enough for you?"

Ren swallows, reaching one hand behind him to feel for the edge of the balustrade. "I... I dunno, man. I guess—I guess I thought maybe I could... do better this time."

Martyn huffs an unamused half-laugh. "I mean, you could hardly do worse."

That stings, and Ren can't stop himself from wincing. "I'm sorry, Martyn, I didn't mean to—'

"No no—sorry." Martyn holds up one placating hand and Ren sees the dirt and blood caked under his nails. "My bad. That sounded a bit harsh, didn’t it.”

“You’re not wrong, though.” Ren’s shoulders sag and he looks down at the crown. “We never stood a chance back… back there.”

“We could have won,” Martyn says, and Ren looks up to find him tensing his jaw. “You could have tried.” The arrow in his neck trembles.

There's blood staining the front of his shirt, Ren notices distantly. It's still wet.

"To what ending, dude? The two of us go head-to-head on Black Heart Altar?" Ren gives a nervous laugh. "Nah, man: that game only had one winner. And it was never going to be us."

They stand in silence for a moment, the mountain wind blowing between them.

"I fought for you." The words are out before Ren consciously thinks them, and he flinches at the way they fall from his mouth like stones.

Martyn tilts his head. "You did," he agrees, but it sounds like an accusation. "And I fought for you."

"I would have given you that victory." The confession is heavy, weighted with truth and resentment.

Martyn doesn’t look surprised. “Yeah. I know you would have.” I wouldn’t have done the same. He doesn’t speak the words, but Ren hears them anyway. Martyn’s a pragmatist—he’d have fought for everything he was worth. Like he had a world to gain or lose—though Ren shudders to think what living alone in that blood-soaked world would have been like.

He thinks he knows why Grian jumped.

The stone railing under his hand is cold and pitted, the marble worn by wind and time, and he can feel the wind curling up from the valley below, ruffling the fur on the back of his neck.

“Do you think you can do it this time?” Martyn asks. He takes another step forward, and it takes everything in Ren not to move away. His Hand is within arm’s reach, his grey skin papery and dry, and his cracked lips forming the question with what sounds like idle curiosity but feels like a threat.

Ren deliberately relaxes his fists. Martyn is not a threat. Not his Hand.

“Do—do what?” he manages, throat dry.

“Keep your crown.” Martyn raises one hand and reaches to touch the tiny crown with the tip of one finger—delicate, as if he might break it. “Think you can do that, in a world with less to lose?”

In a world without your Red Army? Can you at least manage that much?

Ren no longer knows what words are Martyn’s and what are his own mind’s. “I—” he stammers, leaning back against the railing. Martyn’s eyes don’t blink, and this close he can see where the skin of his gums is pulling away from the teeth—teeth that look longer and sharper than they should.

“I think you’re trying to prove a point.” Now Martyn lifts that lifeless hand to rest it on Ren’s shoulder, a dark mockery of the casual and friendly way he always had. Camaraderie decays into menace, heavier than a dozen crowns.

“I… I am?” Words stick in Ren’s throat, dry and choking. Martyn would never hurt me. Not willingly. Not Martyn.

“Yup.” Martyn pops the ‘p’, and a wafting breath of rot reaches Ren’s nostrils. “You’re trying to prove that no matter what world you’re in, you can never win.”

Bristling, Ren straightens. “That’s utterly ridiculous—”

“You want to prove that it’s not your fault,” Martyn continues, talking over Ren like he can’t even hear him. “That if you can’t hold onto a crown here—” he almost spits the word, a spasm of distaste contorting his features. “—in a world with nothing to lose, then of course you couldn’t have done it there.”

His fingers—bony and cold—dig into Ren’s shoulder, sharp and clawlike. Ren winces, but he can’t pull free. Martyn leans close, his dead face inches from Ren’s own. The arrow in his throat presses into Ren’s chest, and his voice is hard:

“You want to prove you didn’t get us all killed.”

“Not true!” Ren’s knees buckle under the weight of Martyn’s hand, and he sags back against the balustrade. “I did everything I could to—”

“No.” Martyn shakes his head, and the hand on Ren’s shoulder moves to grip his throat. He forces Ren’s head up and back, to look up at the towers of the Crastle rising over their heads. “You didn’t then, and you’re not now. You could be a king, Ren—but you give up too soon. And who pays the price?”

Skizz. Etho. BigB.

Ren swallows, gulping for precious air.

Bdubs.

Cleo—Iskall—Joe—Scar—

He drops the crown, the heavy gold clattering to the stone floor with an ear-piercing ring. He reaches up to grip Martyn’s wrist with both hands, trying not to flinch at the cold, unyielding, dead flesh.

“Martyn—please. I’ll try—I’ll really try, I swear—”

“No.”

Martyn’s voice is as hard as his hand, but there’s something like pity mixed with the disgust and disappointment in his face.

“No, mate, you’re going to fall this time too. You already set your own trap.” He shakes his head and lifts Ren off the ground, holding him by the neck as if he weighs nothing. Ren chokes, feet scrabbling for purchase, the stone railing knocking into the backs of his knees.

“Martyn—”

“Long live the king, Ren. Better luck next time.”

And Martyn drops him over the edge.

Ren falls, reaching for his Hand, a scream stillborn in his throat.

He wakes before he hits the ground.

Rendog snaps upright in bed with a choked cry, hand flying to his chest to clutch at his heart through the thin fabric of his sleeping shirt. His pulse pounds in his ears and he can feel the telltale chill of tears in the damp fur on his cheeks and neck. In the dim moonlight, his eyes find a golden gleam across the room.

The tiny crown sits on his dresser, its emerald eye winking at him. Mocking him.

Long live the king.

He shivers. There was no mistaking the threat, spoken through Martyn’s voice.

Better luck next time.

...Next time.

#never going to be normal about dogwarts so. here. have some spooky ominous creepy halloween fare #set sometime like. two weeks ago just before the King's Labyrinth #inthelittlewood #rendog #itlw #tw zombies #<-not really? but for filtering #tw blood #tw falling #redwinterwrites

[sixteenth-days]

hey if you enjoy my hermit archives work you might also like my other silly little fics

tempering - 3,800 words - twoshot about Grian, Jimmy, Martyn, and Watchers, which eat what they love.

“You’re not actually Grian, are you?” Jimmy asks, suddenly, while they’re sitting side by side on a bench in Tumble Town.

getting possessed by your minecraft base: tips and tricks for dummies - 5,900 words - two-fic series (so far) centered on Tango.

Decked Out is a game for everyone. To keep it that way in the midst of a war, Tango negotiates treaties, agreements, truces, and backroom deals. Also he gets a little possessed, but that’s normal.

teeth on a string - 11,000 words - three-fic series about cannibalism. fundamentally lighthearted but RATED M FOR GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.

People eat Bdubs. That's just natural, because he's delicious.

grianmc - 1,000 words - oneshot, COMPLETELY unrelated take on the Watchers from the above one, very meta.

“You know,” Grian says again. “Your- Watchers.” Techno squints for a moment before understanding visibly dawns behind his eyes. “Ohhh, you mean Chat?”

cmon mumbo don't tell me you've never heard of a stable time loop - 3,000 words - oneshot about Grian and Mumbo resolving Mumbo's season 8 soul problem in the dumbest possible way

"Grian," says Mumbo, "your soul sucks."

no hat, head empty - 4,900 words - threeshot, comedy/slice of life. Scar can't find his hat.

Scar! That was his name! Okay, okay, good. He was getting somewhere. “So, this is a tiny bit embarrassing,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can you tell me where I am?”

the game plays us for fools - 5,600 words - two fic series. when your life is bound to someone else, sometimes things get a little strange!

"Grian was looking a bit disoriented?" tries Tango, which doesn't seem to help. He shifts Jimmy's grip to his hands. "What I mean is, I think being soulmates is like, a trait sharificator."

oh well, whatever, either way - 1,000 words - oneshot, Martyn post-Limited Life encounters Witchcraft SMP Cleo.

"Oh, it's you," says a voice Martyn can't place, won't place, until the ghost of a string wraps itself around his heart and pulls. He wrenches his eyes open against the searing not-color, and looks back at Cleo.

a matter of time - 5,500 words - oneshot, character study of Witchcraft Cleo.

Cleo’s very expansive definition of Time includes such disparate things as alternate universes (pretty much a synonym of alternate timelines), space (basically the same thing as time), explosions (energy, light, time, same difference), hexcasting (a pattern of meaningless shapes, ascribed meaning), and the fabric of narrative itself.

#my writing #i think these are all pretty good! if any call to u check them out #just wanted to do a lil bump for the new followers :D #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #witchcraft smp #life series

[genisis1224]

Ever since Martyn prompted us to think of fragments for the other players on his stream, my wheels have been turning, so here we go (keep in mind I'm only doing the ones I personally follow):

Ren:

Season One: Scalp (To represent a crown, because he was a king that season)

Season Two: Chest (To represent armor, because he was a knight that season)

Season Three: Arm (To represent the link with his Soulmate breaking due to the Secret Soulmate thing)

Jimmy:

Season One: Finger (To represent how you would hold a shield, because burning the shield led to his downfall)

Season Two: Leg (To represent the time when he ran away from the life-giving circle, causing the other Southerners to distrust him)

Season Three: Around eyes (To represent him having to see the Ranch burn down)

Season Four: Foot (To represent him falling from a high place so much)

Season Five: Neck (To represent a dog collar, matching with Martyn's fragment)

Cleo:

Season One: Back (To represent getting shot by Skiz to be eliminated, as even he claimed to mistake her for yellow at the time, so it came out of nowhere for both of them)

Season Two: Finger (To represent holding a match, because that season was when they became synonymous with fire)

Season Three: Chest (To represent her "following her heart" and choosing her own Soulmate. I didn't realize until after I thought of this that it would match her predetermined Soulmate's fragment; this was not intentional from me)

Season Four: Stomach (To represent giving birth, because they were a mother that season)

Season Five: Forehead (To represent her growing attachment to another player, who wears a headband)

(Side note: can you tell I had some serious difficulty coming up with Cleo's?)

Scar:

Season One: Mouth (To represent his ability to talk with people and make deals)

Season Two: Palm (To represent the magic crystals, since magic is cast through the hand in lots of fantasy media)

Season Three: Arm (To represent the link with his Soulmate breaking due to the Secret Soulmate thing)

Season Four: Wrist (To represent a wristwatch, since he joined a clock-based group that season)

Season Five: Around eyes (To represent him having to continuously read tasks that prevented him from having any true allies)

Pearl:

Season Two: Around eyes (To represent her having to watch her closest ally leave after sacrificing his Boogeyman task and becoming red)

Season Three: Neck (To represent a dog collar, since she became particularly attached to her pet dog that season)

Season Four: Ear (To represent overhearing things, because she was a Nosy Neighbor that season)

Season Five: Shoulder (To represent a "round mound," as shoulders have a similar shape, and she was a Mounder that season)

#eaefragments #eyes and ears #trafficblr

[cielcreations]

Mate Life - Ch. 1

AN: Probably won’t post too much of this story on Tumblr because it’s going to have a lot of 18+ content, so you can either read it on my Patreon or AO3.

Also, loooooots of shipping. So ye.

Grian and Zed looked at their communicators, smiling. The counter ended and, in green text, "OMEGA" was displayed on both of their screens. They then hissed and held their necks.

"Shoot, forgot to mention that." Grian removed his hand from his neck, rubbing it a bit. Zed saw a mark on the dirty blonde's neck, an omega mark, "So, to help identify what everyone else is, we get marks on us."

"Ah, okay!" Zed smiled, "So, we got three extra hearts, right? Thank goodness, I think that actually helps ease my nerves a bit." He then began to type away on his communicator, "I wonder what Impy and Tango are! Maybe we can be Team ZIT!"

Grian also began messaging on his communicator. He was hoping for Mumbo and Scar, or at least one of them. He sent them both a message.

GoodTimesWithScar whispers to you: I'm an Alpha! I'm a little nervous though, hopefully I don't die first! You whisper to GoodTimesWithScar: That's Timmy's job. I'm an Omega. Want to be a team? Hoping to get Mumbo too, so long as he's a Beta. GoodTimesWithScar whispers to you: Do you want Mumbo as your Alpha? If he is one. You whisper to GoodTimesWithScar: No. I want you. I want to make up for Double Life and we never got to hang out in Limited Life. You don't have to if you don't want to, I understand. I just really miss you. GoodTimesWithScar whispers to you: I really miss you too. I mean, i know we hang out in HC, but these games could go on for months and I don't want to go through a repeat of Limited Life. So, guess I was a bit worried. Mates? You whisper to GoodTimesWithScar: Mates. :) You whisper to GoodTimesWithScar: Oh, Mumbo responded, brb!

Grian heard Zed huff, "Dangit!"

"They already found someone?" He asked as he moved to Mumbo's messages.

"Well, yes and no. Tango is an Omega too and said he promised to team with Solidarity if things aligned. So, it's gonna just be ZI instead of ZIT." Zedaph joked.

Grian chuckled.

MumboJumbo whispers to you:  I'm a Beta, you?

Grian cheered.

***

Solidarity spawned beside Joel, which the two immediately joked it was fate. The two began to collect materials as they talked.

"So, you wanna team if possible?" Joel asked.

"I kinda want to team with Tango. And I expect you want to team with Lizzie?" Solidarity hummed.

"Yeah... But who knows! If you're an Omega, me an Alpha, and Tango or Liz are Betas, we could team!"

Solidarity nodded before their communicators beeped. They checked their communicators as it counted down from five. Once it hit zero, Solidarity saw "ALPHA" in red. Both then hissed as their necks burned.

"Grian must've forgotten to mention that." Solidarity groaned before hr chuckled, "Well, I'm an Alpha, you?"

Joel stared at him, "...HOW ARE YOU AN ALPHA AND I'M AN OMEGA?!"

Solidarity burst out into laughter, falling to the ground. Joel began texting Lizzie, huffing and muttering "this is insane, this is bull, how are you an Alpha?!"

"Lizzie's an Alpha too! Bro, hooooooow?!"

"Guess I'm just better than you!" He teased before he smiled, "Ah! Tango is an Omega! Guess we can't be a team." He then smiled, "Want to have a truce?"

"For now, yeah, sure." Joel teased, "I'm gonna go find Lizzie, see ya later!"

Solidarity waved and began walking the opposite way, Tango sending him cords. He then got a beep, a message appearing on his screen.

Dangthatsalongname    whispers to you: I'm a Beta. You? You whisper to Smajor1995: Alpha. Smajor  whispers to you: Want to team? You whisper to Smajor1995: Tango is gonna be my Omega. Still want to be my Beta?

It took another minute or two before Scott responded.

Smajor1995 whispers to you: Sure.

 Far away, Scott whispered to himself, "Oh my god, Dary, you can't just ask if I want to be yours..."

***

(Suggestive Content Ahead!)

Martyn wasn't a big fan about team games. Well, team games in the sense you have to have a team. Double Life was awful, him and Cleo just didn't work out. And even though this time he could pick his team, it still just wasn't something he was interested.

Not to mention he was an Omega.

He sighed and walked around, trying to find a cave. He managed to get some wook, his tools were stone, a couple of iron ingots was turned into a helmet and axe. Martyn continued walking around, trying to find a cave or even other people, just for a bit of socialization.

"Martyn!"

The blonde turned and smiled, seeing a familiar wolf hybrid running over. He was nearly tackled by the hug, laughing a bit, "Hey Ren! Missed you last game!"

Ren's tail wagged happily as he pulled back, "Missed you too! Oh, are you an Omega? I'm an Alpha! Wanna team? It would be great to catch up!"

Martyn hesitated before he smiled and nodded. He teamed up with Ren once, he wouldn't mind doing it again!

"Sure, why not?"

Ren smiled brightly before leaning down, licking his neck.

"Ewwww!" Martyn pushed him back, "Hey, hey, what're you-"

"What's wrong? I have to bite your mark to claim you as mine." Ren said matter of factly, "Did you not read the message that came with your assigned role?"

Martyn blinked before rechecking the the chat.

You are... an OMEGA

Make sure to find a Beta and an Alpha to team up with. An Alpha will need to bite a Beta and an Omega's neck to complete the pack. Omegas and Betas biting their Alphas is optional.

"Crap. No, I didn't read that." Martyn said before lowering his hands, "Okay, just try to be gentle?"

Ren nodded. He leaned forward and licked Martyn's neck again. Martyn cringed, but relaxed. The brunette gently nibbled at his neck to prepare the blonde before opening his mouth. He bit Martyn's neck, right where his omega mark was.

Martyn's eyes widened. It didn't hurt, it felt good. Really good. The blonde's knees buckled as he leaned into Ren, moaning. He felt Ren's teeth sink more into his skin and he moaned more, holding onto the brunette's arm to keep him on his feet.

Ren removed his teeth and looked at Martyn, the blonde panting and holding him. He smiled brightly at the brunette.

"Can you, like, undo the mark and redo it...? That felt amazing."

Ren blushed before he smiled, "I-I'm glad."

Martyn then fell against his chest, knees giving out, "S-Sorry, c-can you just...?"

"Carry you? Happily."

"Ren?"

The two turned and saw a Beta standing there, looking at them.

Ren's tail began to wag at the dog hybrid, "Big B!"

(End of Suggestive Content!)

***

Solidarity whispers to you: Sorry man, I'm teaming up with Tango and Scott. Maybe you can team with Gem or Pearl? You whisper to Solidarity: Can't. Asked Gem, she's also a Beta and Pearl said she's teaming with Gem if possible. Solidarity whispers to you: Sorry man :/ You whisper to Solidarity:  No worries, it's cool. Figured you would team with Tango, just wish I could've gotten to you before Scott. Not your fault, Scott's just a cheater. Solidarity whispers to you: Yup, he will make Flower Husbands happen no matter what.

Pixlriffs chuckled at the joke before he sighed a bit. He's never played a Life Series game, he was hoping he could team with some familiar faces. Granted, he knew of everyone, but he was more comfortable with people he has played with on other servers, like Joel, Solidarity, or Lizzie!

Ah well. Pix thought to himself, Teaming with new people isn't the end of the world. He began to collect materials, spending a lot of time in the caves. He had gotten full iron armor, iron tools, and a diamond pickaxe for later. He then began walking around, looking for a place to build his base.

"Huh- oh, hey!"

Pix turned around and smiled, "Hey! Skizz and Vintage, right?"

The cow hybrid chuckled, "Vintage Beef, yes, but I prefer to go by Beef."

"You're Pixlriffs, right?" The man in a tuxedo with sleeves ripped off, Skizz, asked, "Nice to meet you more properly! Didn't get to talk to you much at the beginning! This yours and Beef's first time, so it'll be a bit interesting!"

Beef nodded, "What are you, by the way? I'm an Alpha, Skizz is an Omega."

"Beta." Pix replied.

"Oh, nice! Wanna team?!" Skizz exclaimed, "We can be the Big Tits Gang!"

"W-WHAT?!" "Hahahaha!" Beef blushed, Pix trying not to fall to his knees.

"SKIZZ!" Beef yelled.

"What?! You can't even keep the top button of your shirt button, your tits are so huge! And look at how tight Pix's shirt is!" Skizz huffed, "And I'm not a narcissist or anything, but I got some pretty big tits myself! So, Big Tits Gang! BTG!"

Pix continued to laugh as Beef just blushed, groaning, "Oh my god, Skizz..." The cow hybrid then looked at the brunette, "Listen, you can just ignore him."

"No, no, it's fine! I don't mind." He then showed off his yellow Beta mark, "Wanna be a trio?"

Beef smiled and nodded.

***

"IMPPPPPPPY!" The demon turned around and quickly caught the blonde ram hybrid with a gasp, "IMPY! HAHA, I FOUND YOU!"

Impulse chuckled, holding Zedaph up, "Hi Zed. I can't believe you found me so fast!"

"Tango is an Omegaaaaa! And Soli stole hiiiiim!" Zed huffed, "Can you believe that?!"

"They did get close in Double Life and during Limited Life, they would sneak off to have some fun." Impulse chuckled, "It's why we added Soli to our relationship, remember?"

"I knooooow, but I still wanted Tango, or even Soli so we can be a trio! Either Team ZIT or... ZIS?"

"What about Team ITS?" Impulse teased.

"Noooooo!" Zed huffed, "You promised we'd be together this game if possible!"

"I know, I know, I'm teasing."

"Impulse!" The two turned and saw Bdubs running over, smiling as he waved his hand, "Oh, and Zed too! Hey guys!"

"Nope! Six feet apart!" Zed joked, "Only I can be on Impulse at this time!"

"Wha- ZED!"

"Be nice, Zed." Impulse playfully scolded, kissing his cheek before looking at Bdubs, "Hey B, how you doing?"

"Ug, everyone I've ran into is already teamed or planning to make a team!" Bdubs huffed, "I tried to get Etho, but Lizzie and Joel got to him first! Then I ran into Scar, but he had Mumbo claimed and they were going off to find Grian, which makes sense, those three will be together no matter what, if possible. Then I found Cleo and you know what she said?! She was teaming up with Gem and Pearl! Something about wanting lesbians to win? Which, honestly, respect, I think the lesbians winning would be great. But Cleo and Pearl?! In a Life Series game?! Shit is gonna go down."

"Language." Impulse scolded.

"Zed, you haven't seen it, but Pearl is like coocoo for Coco Puffs crazy in Life Series games, and Cleo is... well, Cleo."

"So expect chaos?" Zed chuckled.

"Major chaos."

"Niiiice. Anyways, so, like, wanna be our Beta?" Zed pointed to the other's neck, "I can tell you're a Beta and Impy and I are already planning to team up!"

"It would be nice to team up again." Impulse suggested.

Bdubs smiled and nodded, "Yeah, sure!"

***

"Ha! There she is!"

Gem turned around and smiled, running over, "Cleo! Pearl! You guys were quick!"

"You gave us cords and agreed to team, we booked it." Pearl chuckled.

Gem smiled, "Well, I've been just making a base and a farm, so hopefully you guys have everything you need!" She chuckled.

Cleo nodded, smiling, "So, you're a Beta right?"

"Yep!"

"Perfect!" Cleo hummed, "Pearl is an Omega and I'm an Alpha."

"Team Lesbians for the win!" Pearl exclaimed as Gem laughed.

"I-Is that our team name?" She laughed.

"Seems like it. Bdubs called us that."

"Don't lie, Cleo. You said we were going to form Team Lesbians first!"

"Shut up, Pearl!" Cleo teased, pushing the brunette, all laughing.

***

Joel groaned, pushing another branch of leaves out of his way. He was trying to find Lizzie, but she wasn't responding to his messages. He tried contacting a few others, but everyone had already gotten their trio set up.

"LIZZZZZZZZZZIE!" Joel screamed into the woods, ducking under another branch, "Geez, where in the bloody-" He gasped as he stopped, nearly falling down into a ravine, "W-Woah!"

"Are you going to pull a Solidarity?"

Joel turned around and yelled, stepping back. However, before he could fall back, an arm grabbed him and pulled him back, away from the ravine. He stared at the taller man, blushing a bit.

"Etho!" Joel exclaimed as the platinum blonde pulled him away from the ravine, "W-What're you doing?"

"You trying to keep your Bad Boy persona?"

"Shut up." Joel blushed and pushed him away, "I'm looking for Lizzie! You seen her?"

"Yeah, she's the one who told me to find you."

"What, why?!"

"Have you checked chat?"

Joel blinked and looked at his communicator, seeing multiple chat displays.

[ Alpha Rendog has claimed Omega InTheLittleWood ]

[ Alpha Rendog has claimed Beta Bigbst4tz2 ]

[ Alpha Solidarity has claimed Omega TangoTek ]

[ Alpha impulseSV has claimed Omega Zedaph ]

[ Alpha impulseSV has claimed Beta BdoubleO100 ]

[ Alpha ZombieCleo has claimed Beta GeminiTay ]

So on and so forth, everyone having gotten a trio. The very last message read:

[ Alpha LDShadowLady has claimed Beta EthosLab ]

"So, I'm the last person unclaimed." Joel hummed.

"Pretty much. Come on, this way." Etho grabbed his wrist, beginning to lead the way.

Joel huffed, "Why did Lizzie claim you? Doesn't she realize we were enemies last season?!"

"We were also soulmates two seasons ago-"

"Shut up!" Joel blushed, looking away, "Last season was more important!"

Etho just laughed, "Let's see how long you can keep your brat behavior up."

Joel just huffed as they continued making their way to Lizzie. Once they arrived to their little base, Lizzie smiled and waved happily at them. Joel smiled and ran over to her.

"Bout time! I messaged you!" 

"I was building!" Lizzie giggled, "Sorry! Besides, Etho found me first! He's gonna be our Beta, in case you couldn't tell!"

"Yeah, you hired an enemy!"

"Oh, so that's how he's been?" Lizzie looked at Etho, the platinum blonde shrugging and chuckling as he went inside their base. She then looked at Joel, "Be nice to him."

"Nuh uh, he kill me last season! And he killed my fellow Bad Boys!"

"You are such a brat, you know that?" Lizzie teased.

Joel chuckled and smiled, leaning down as they shared a kiss, "You love it though."

Lizzie smiled and nodded.

#mate life #trafficblr #trafficshipping #Scar X Grian X Mumbo #Solidarity X Tango X Smajor #Impulse X Zed X Bdubs #Lizzie X Joel X Etho #Rendog X Martyn X Big B #Cleo X Pearl X Gem #VintageBeef X Skizz X Pixlriffs

[zombieclieo]

"D'you think she cares?" His voice came across as a little worse for wear than it oughta. Death usually restored the body to peak order aside from a few scars, but here Martyn's throat was, scratchy and harder to parse than he woulda liked.

"What?" Came the reply. Scott shook his hand out, dirt particulates separating from his fingers as he did.

"Cleo, I mean. Obviously." Martyn laughed, leaning back against Scott's pretty little house, hand waving in a mockery of one of Scott's common gestures.

"Why would I know what Cleo thinks of you? We aren't teammates this go around." Scott turns back to his work, but it's still obvious how the previous victor felt about this game by how his voice catches at 'go around'.

Martyn winces, but he shakes it off within milliseconds. "You two are always allies! There hasn't been a go when you two haven't been conspiring. I'm asking because--"

"Martyn." Scott's voice was sharper than he meant, and it softens as he continues. "For one, I won't ask how you know more about mine and Cleo's relationship than either of us have told you. You and Grian get so clammy about that nonsense. For two, she hasn't mentioned you."

Martyn doesn't flinch, but Scott can tell that hurt him. Scott lived with him for a while, he knows. Martyn thinks himself infinitely cool and collected, but he isn't. He never has been and Scott's pretty sure he never will be. The blonde coughs. "Cool."

"Cool?" Scott laughs, looking up. Arcing underneath his hair from his right temple under his hair and around his throat is a lightning scar, and it glows slightly at the middle of his throat in a cool cyan. It aches. Martyn knows it aches, especially when Scott laughs. "Martyn, you were soulbound two goes ago. I know she's cool and all, but what's your hangup? Are you this hung up on Ren? Me?"

"What! Scott, you're having a giraffe. I don't get hung up on people."

There is a poignant silence. Martyn shifts uncomfortably. Scott rolls his eyes and returns to his work.

"Scott, I just wanna know how she is. If she ever thinks about me. I don't--I try not to think about it. The past, I mean. But it just... I may die but the soul lives on. Bones are buried but the soul is still here and it still feels that little string, y'know? We had the same soul, for a while. The same beating heart." Martyn finally moves from his ramrod straight stance, squatting beside Scott, a gloved hand extended.

The palm is cold. Ice fucking cold. The diamond shaped mark seems to give his flesh freezerburn as he nears the scar to any other living being. Any that are around, anyway. Martyn is cagey about it--Scott wasn't being mean. He has four of those diamonds across his body, though he supposes he's lucky that they're all... eh, relatively easy to hide. The one on his cheek, the back of his neck, and right over his heart were harder to conceal, though. That, and the massive ragged timepiece seemingly slashed across his back. The scar that never healed. The reminder to keep his ears open. To listen. To betray when it suits him. That one still pulses red, sore and obvious.

Scott doesn't know that a diamond burns for him as Martyn nears him. He doesn't know that it gets a little harder to breathe as the scalding diamond on the back of his neck makes itself very known. Bound, again and again, had he always found himself following after another? Hitching his soul into pieces again and again? Where would a diamond appear this time, for Jimmy? Where else would the cracks spread? Scott flicks his nose.

"You're absolutely doing that thing again where you just stare at me and look pensive. Fine, you want to know so bad what I think they think? Fine, if it'll get you to either go away or help me plant." Scott finally stands up fully and stretches his back out, then his arms high above his head. He reaches over to grasp Martyn's upper arm. "Cleo is a complicated person. They do care. They also don't. You aren't the center of her universe and that is fine. For both of you. Worrying about what they think won't make you less afraid of what comes next. Holding onto us--me, Cleo, the Ahaliance, Ren, that won't give you the peace you're looking for. You and Grian hold on tighter to the past than the rest of us. Let us go, Martyn, and let what joy you can have now happen."

The diamond hurts like hell. Like Martyn has slammed back into a pool of lava and it is eating him alive. It feels like dying when Scott holds his arm. He doesn't react. Scott doesn't know everything. "Alright, alright, I don't need an intervention here, mate! I'm genuinely just trying to see if she's mad at me, and you're talking different breeds and stronger memories. Bah. Maybe you're holding on to Cleo."

"Am I, then?" Scott snorts, and thankfully releases Martyn's arm. The burning subsides, somewhat.

"I think you are, honestly. I look away and suddenly you're gaslighting and gatekeeping and girlbossing! What about my gaslighting?" Martyn holds a hand to his chest as he fakes haughtiness.

"You're a bad liar, Littlewood." Scott kneels back in the dirt. "Now help me plant before you go back to our canary."

Martyn snorts, this time. "Our canary. Yeah, Scott, only me and Grian hold on." He does listen, though, and helps cover wheat seeds with dirt. As his right hand connects with the soil, it aches like a red winter, cold and bloody. He misses Ren. He misses Cleo, and Pearl, and Mumbo and everyone. He feels like there's a world where they could have been happy together, where they played games and laughed around Christmastime. As he looks at Scott, he wonders...

"Do you know what Christmas is?" His voice is more hesitant than he means for it to be.

"No, why?" Scott replies, shoving half a tuber deep into the earth.

"No reason. Just an old story." Then, that was the difference. He and Grian knew there was something beyond. No one else remembers what life extant a Watcher's game is like. He raises his head to watch the darkening horizon. Scott boxes his ear with a smile, and he shrugs. At least they have tonight to pretend like She wasn't watching. Like they were friends planting a field.

#dont ask me what this is. i dont know. anyway have some headcanons abt both martyn and the victors in gen #each victor gets a scar based on what killed them post everyone else dying <3 pearl has burn scars #grian has a fuck ton of scars from where bone moght have pierced skin when his bones Bropke #very gnarly #martyn and grian both have extra scars though from Things. #bigb and ren also have extra scars because i like them #most folks lose all scars they didnt have session 1 of season 1! ie scars scars were there originally so they stay and arent weird #n every time someone dies they also get a scar from that death that go away next season #soulbonds each get the same scars etc etc #inthelittlewood #i guess? #scott smajor #secret life smp spoilers #secret life smp #trafficblr #traffic smp

[captainschaos]

still catching up with @mcyt-aro-week ! hoping to double up tomorrow to be back on schedule <3 day 2 - loveless / au

some aro tangtho writing from an old 3l/traffic au of mine ^_^ I will note that tango is referred to as a he/it phoenix, etho a he/she fae !

words: 681

-/-/-

Tango was angry at a lot of people, but he wasn't angry at Etho. For a simple reason, because at least it'd been able to get back at the fae for the firing range. But for more complicated reasons, too. Etho was trustworthy, is all. When Tango had been unfairly shoved into the line of fire, Etho'd had the decency to look sorry, at least. And when the phoenix's arrow had been able to find her heart, something was forgiven in that moment. But the others?

Tango was wondering how long it'd be until it found itself in the Crastle's line of fire again, but by his own choice.

It couldn't leave Etho though. It wouldn't. And other people might make whatever conclusions they wanted about that, but it couldn't be explained away in other people's words. They just trusted each other. They were on the fringes of things, but they were there together, they understood. The fae understood the phoenix's fires, and Tango trusted him with it.

At the moment, Tango was standing alone in its solitary, hidden base. Secret, except for Etho. It made it feel less lonely. It was easy, knowing he and Etho were the same in this kind of thing, in solitude and in easy expectations. Never betray the other. Never ask unnecessary questions. So often, they would only have to look at each other to know what the next course of action was. It was so easy.

So if Etho trusted the king, well... Tango knew Etho would never force it into the Army. But maybe the phoenix wanted to join the fae.

---

"Are you sure about him, Etho?"

Their postures were casual, but the fae knew better than to slip around the Red King.

"I'm positive Ren."

Martyn shifted with a frown nearby, but neither Ren nor Etho paid attention. This was between them, and really wasn't a situation where Etho would use all the "highness"s and "your majesty"s. It wasn't her style, anyway. And it was important to stay consistent.

The dog-king crossed his arms and gazed off into the distance, in thought, as he mumbled. "The phoenix would be a powerful ally indeed..."

"We can trust it. Tango's wanting a change anyway, he and Bdubs are..." Etho faltered, but quickly picked it back up. "There's an opportunity, if we let it in now and don't leave him high and dry."

Ren considered, and then chuckled. "You and the firebird a thing or something?"

Etho's stomach pinched, just a bit. Ah.

"Er, well not--"

"Yeah, you're real eager to trust that guy!" Martyn chimed in from his leaning against the wall. "Got a crush, Etho?"

"No, ah, I don't do that. Neither of us do that, we just--" Etho reached back and rubbed the back of her neck, his eyes flicking down to the floor to a moment. "We're not the romance types, I'll put it that way. It's just..."

What is it? He and Tango, they weren't easy to describe. They weren't romantic, and never would be, and weren't really anything else in particular either. After romance people were likely to assume queerplatonics like Bdubs and Cleo, but they weren't like that either. There was something other than friendships that were simple though, it just... evaded description. Etho knew Tango. Tango knew Etho. That was all.

"I trust him. I'm willing to put my head on the line for it, it's a good ally. We should invite it to the Red Army."

The king eyed the fae for a long moment, then nodded understandingly. Decisively.

"Then offer him a banner, Sir Etho. The phoenix shall fly red!"

Under the mask, Etho grinned in a way he knew would only get more prodding from the highly romantic king and hand if they could see. But they couldn't, and who could blame her for being excited? The fae wanted the phoenix to join. Etho would never force Tango to join the Army, but he knew it was too enticing to have the two of them together again.

Free, unkempt and indescribable, and fighting side-by-side.

#ethoslab #tangotek #tangtho #mcyt aro week #captain's words #YIPPEEEEEE UNLABELLED TANGTHO. my favey #also this was more for me to have fun than anything I have no idea if the timeline is right here . ASDKJFBASDF #I'm rewatching 3l rn but haven't got far so don't look too close #but yeah uhhhh OH tag #phoenix au #the tldr of the au is au where tango joins the red army yippeeeeee >:] #I just think tango and etho's relationship in 3l is like. so interesting. and sooooo aromantic. to me <3

[sleepsart]

" Stab me in the chest, I'll stab you in the chest. We'll see which one of us can stab the other in the chest the very best " - Fall, The Terrordacyls

I made new designs for both of them just bc this series makes me wanna make things

[ ID: A drawing of Martyn and Cleo from Double Life, drawn from the waist up. Martyn is on the left, turned away from Cleo. He's looking over his shoulder and glaring at her, wiping blood away from his nose. He's wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie, a bandana, and a necklace with a swirl on it. He has short, curly hair. There are three hearts on his cheek. He has one black eye and a bloody cut on his cheek. Cleo is on the right, turned away from Martyn. She's glaring over her shoulder at him and frowning. She's wearing a loose striped shirt over a tank top. She has long curly hair that's shaved on one side. Her nose is bleeding, and she has the same black eye and cut on her cheek as Martyn. She's covered in stitching on her arms, shoulders, neck, and on her face. The stitching on her face has three hearts sewn into it. End ID ]

Tag list: @luna-spacedoodles @convexers @polyhermits @tango-dyke @grey-nova @chimbamuerto

#id #napsart #mcyt #blood #double life spoilers #double life smp #dlsmp #inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood fanart #zombie cleo #zombie cleo fanart #double life smp fanart #dlsmp fanart

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

beneath a different light

A/N: so i know we're all freaking out about the flower husbands crumbs, and scott probably flirted with owen much more than he did martyn... but something about scott and martyn has grabbed hold of my brain. all of these rats are gay, i probably could write a whole series of vignettes of gay rat moments. anyway, enjoy!!

Warnings: arguing, flirting

Summary: Scott confronts Martyn about killing Olive. But then Martyn notices his fellow rat seems tense, and not just about the whole killing thing. Somehow, Martyn manages to offer Scott something familiar in a place of strange newness, as well as learn that new might not always be bad.

-

“Give me the knife, Martyn,” Scott demanded, holding his hand out. Martyn glowered at him a little.

“What knife? I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” he sniffed. Scott’s whiskers twitched.

“The one you killed Olive with, give it here,” Scott said pointedly.

“It wasn’t my idea!” Martyn protested. Truly, it wasn’t. He wasn’t completely sure what happened- he had been mostly joking around, and then he got this itch-

“That’s not what we do here, Martyn!” Scott shouted, snapping him from his thoughts. Martyn squinted at him a little.

“What d’you mean, that’s how things always are. Gotta be the toughest rat to survive,” Martyn said with a frown. A flash of… something, crossed Scott’s face. Martyn couldn’t decipher if it was hurt or confusion before Scott was back to fixing him with a disappointed glare.

“Give me the knife,” Scott said, quieter than before. And yet, Martyn found himself sighing and reaching into his pocket, aimlessly flipping his knife out and twirling it a little so that the handle was towards Scott. If Martyn hadn’t been so busy sulking about having to give up his knife (even though he definitely had the materials to make a new one) he would have noticed Scott’s near flustered expression at his movements before he gingerly took the knife. Scott tucked it into his front pocket, grimacing a little. There was a faraway look in his eyes, and despite not knowing the other rat for that long, Martyn’s heart twisted with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. Scott bristled, tail lashing.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” he snapped.

“I already apologized to Olive! You just looked… sad, I dunno,” Martyn said, rubbing the back of his neck. Scott sighed, and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair- dyed a pale teal color, with flowers braided in. Martyn wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before. In any case, Martyn was more focused on the way Scott’s ears drooped and how he clutched at his hat. He was tense too, like at any moment he would bolt if startled.

“Things are just… so different here,” Scott said, voice tight. Martyn frowned.

“How so?”

“I used to live in a field, all wide open spaces and a cozy burrow to go back to- but here it’s dark and cramped, where I have to figure out how to use this stupid chisel and- nevermind. You don’t care,” Scott said, abruptly ending his frenzied ramble and shoving his hat back on. He turned to walk away- but was halted by Martyn shooting forward and grabbing his wrist. An action that surprised both of them, frankly. Martyn sheepishly let go of him, an ear flicking nervously.

“I… I do care, actually. We’re all here together, right? So we should… care for each other,” Martyn said softly, not quite sure where this was all coming from. Scott squinted at him suspiciously.

“Like you cared for Olive?” he pointed out. Martyn winced.

“Not my best moment, I’ll admit. But they did sort of betray Oli’s trust- y’know what? Not important. I messed up, okay? And it seemed like you were stressed as it was so… I feel bad for making it worse,” Martyn explained. Scott relaxed at his words, only slightly.

“I… thanks. I think,” he said, giving a tight smile. Martyn huffed out an irritated breath, running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t going how he wanted it to- how did he even want this to go?

“What I’m trying to say is… I think I have something that might help? If you’d do the honor of letting me show you?” he asked, holding out a hand that definitely wasn’t shaking towards Scott. Scott blinked, staring at his hand as if it would somehow hurt him. However, after considering for a moment or two, Scott took his hand.

-

Martyn led Scott to the big window he had been crouched at before, wishing on stars so that the door would open. It was still nighttime, but morning would come soon enough. He and Scott could probably watch the sunrise.

He hadn’t told Scott where they were going yet, Martyn wanted it to be a surprise. But of course, since he wasn’t telling Scott what was happening, he was incredibly suspicious of the whole thing. He kept glancing around frantically, probably wondering if this was some sort of trap. That is, until they finally reached the windowsill.

“Up here, c’mon!” Martyn said, scrabbling up the wall. Scott followed, still a little suspicious- but that suspicion changed to pure awe once he saw the view. Sprawling countryside, with the night sky shining bright with stars and turning purple at the edges where the sun was slowly making its presence known. Yet all Martyn could look at was Scott, and how the stars reflected in his eyes.

“This is…”

“I know it’s just looking through a window, and not the same as actually being out there-”

“It’s beautiful,” Scott interrupted in a hushed voice, turning to look at Martyn. Something in the back of Martyn's mind said "you too." Where had that come from? Martyn shook it off and just smiled at Scott.

“I know it’s not the same as actually being outside but… I figured it’d help,” Martyn said instead. Scott smiled, bright as the stars, and looked back out the window.

“It does,” Scott was quiet for a moment, before he spoke up again. “I used to make up stories about the stars when I was younger.”

“Oh?” Martyn asked, intrigued.

“Yeah! I know the actual constellations now- it’s good for tracking the seasons and knowing when to grow what- but I used to make my own and tell stories about the pictures I saw in the night sky,” Scott explained softly.

“Can you tell me one?” Martyn blurted, before he could really think about it. Scott startled a little, but smiled and nodded.

“Sure- the Wolf Witch is out tonight,” Scott said, pointing to a cluster of stars that looked neither like a wolf nor a witch, but Martyn was willing to take his word for it.

“Sounds interesting,” Martyn mused.

“She was- she only found solace in the wolves after her soulmate abandoned her- or so she claimed. Her soulmate said it was the other way around, as she had grown close to another instead of finding her true soulmate. So he found a different soulmate as well, one he could choose. Funnily enough, the soulmate he chose happened to be the soulmate of the one the Wolf Witch had gotten close to,” Scott explained.

“Wait. What? I’m confused- how many people are involved here? How do they know who their soulmate is?” Martyn asked. Scott huffed out a fondly exasperated breath.

"Four, including the Wolf Witch. And her true soulmate… we’ll call him the Last Champion. The one he chose is the Undead Flower, and her true soulmate… the Wayward Wanderer,” Scott said, pointing to more stars as he spoke. Something about “Wayward Wanderer” struck a chord with Martyn, but he couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Interesting names,” was what Martyn commented instead.

“The Last Champion had won a deadly game, actually with the help of the Wolf Witch. But when they found each other again… their camaraderie wasn’t the same. The Undead Flower had helped him too- it’s probably why he chose her as his soulmate. Soulmates were connected by the pain they shared… and the Last Champion and the Undead Flower both shared the pain of their soulmates choosing someone else first,” Scott explained.

“I thought this was about the Wolf Witch,” Martyn said with a frown. Scott playfully shoved at him.

“I’m getting to her, don’t worry. The four of them had found themselves in yet another deadly game, where only a single pair of soulmates would survive. And they were the final four. They had come to an uneasy alliance at this point… and all it took was one to betray them,” Scott said.

“The Wolf Witch?” Martyn asked. Scott shook his head.

“The Wayward Wanderer. He was determined to survive, and as he felt he had reconciled with the Undead Flower, he attacked the Wolf Witch. Which in turn, caused pain to the Last Champion. The Undead Flower didn’t want to fight the Wolf Witch, for fear of hurting the Last Champion. But at that point, it was too late. The Wolf Witch set her pack on the pair, and it was just her and her true soulmate left standing,” Scott said.

“She killed the Wayward Wanderer? Even if she had chosen him initially?” Martyn asked, a chill going through him.

“He betrayed her first,” Scott said with a shrug before continuing. “So then it was just the Last Champion and the Wolf Witch. They weren’t sure what to do at first… until the Last Champion finally realized something. The Wolf Witch had helped him win once, and it was time to return the favor. He regretted not allying with her sooner- but with a final goodbye, he ended his life. And in turn, the Wolf Witch died as well- but the Last Champion had fallen seconds before she did. Technically making her the winner.”

“That’s… grim. Not really the kind of soulmate story I expected,” Martyn said with a nervous laugh. Scott shrugged again.

“I dunno how much stock I put into soulmates. Romantic ones, anyway. And this story… I never quite pictured them as romantic. Just… friends who were always meant to find each other. I think the Wayward Wanderer and the Undead Flower could have been something to each other… but it was too messy. And maybe if the four of them had managed to work something out…” Scott trailed off, voice a little dreamy.

“What would’ve it been like? The four of them?” Martyn asked. Scott let out a sigh.

“Well for starters, the Last Champion never struck me as a guy who liked women. Probably kinda rolled his eyes at the universe for sticking him with the Wolf Witch. So things with her probably would have been the same as they were with the Undead Flower- fiercely devoted life partners who would go to the ends of the earth for each other,” Scott said.

“And what about the Wayward Wanderer?” Martyn asked, heart rate picking up for reasons he couldn’t explain. Scott turned to look at him again, blue eyes sparkling.

“I think he and the Last Champion could have been very close. If things were different,” he said softly.

“Maybe things could be different,” Martyn murmured, his hand drifting towards Scott’s. Scott slowly reached towards him too-

And then the sound of slow, heavy footsteps startled them apart.

“Humans,” Scott gasped, darting to hide behind a plant on the windowsill. Martyn scurried to hide along with him, having to press close to Scott in order for them both to stay hidden. The close proximity seemed jarring now, even if it was what Martyn had wanted before. He was practically curled around Scott, and for a moment he tried to give Scott a little space- but then he grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him closer with a hissed “they’ll see you!” And no, Martyn was not at all thinking about the ease Scott had yanked him or the tone of his voice or replaying the moment over and over again in his head. That would be ridiculous.

Fortunately, the human had left soon enough. (And unfortunately, a ridiculous part of Martyn thought, that meant that he wouldn’t have to stay huddled close to Scott anymore.)

“We should probably head back,” Scott said wistfully, glancing back at the view one last time. The sky was lighter now, the sun beginning to peek over the earth.

“The window will always be here for us,” Martyn pointed out softly. A mischievous grin came to Scott’s face.

“Us?” he asked with a giggle. Martyn felt his face heat up.

“Or just you! Sorry, you probably don’t need me tagging along all the time, you know where it is-” Martyn was halted by Scott’s finger to his lips.

“Us sounds nice,” Scott said with a smile decidedly softer than the mischievous one he had before. And with that, he leapt off the windowsill with ease and landed with grace, leaving Martyn utterly speechless in more ways than one.

He shook himself slightly, scrambling down after Scott. There was an apparent “us” to explore with him, after all.

-

general mcyt fic taglist: @actuallymothman @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @meowdy-pickles @space-ace123 @vyeoh

#mcyt #rats smp #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #scottyn #treestar #<- i dont know if they have a ship name but these are two i came up with that i liked!! #if anyone knows of a diff ship name lemme know #ratshipping #i'll just tag that to be sure #sage writes

[redtyn]

Scott's Dying Thoughts

It's been literal years since I've written fanfiction but Lim Life drove me insane and I need to. So. Beneath the cut if you'd like to take a peak.

Scott should've expected this, he supposed.

As he and Impulse carefully unstrapped their armor, preparing for a final, brutal fight, Martyn had stood off to the side, deathly still. His hand had been bleached from the pale skin the last 8 hours of life cursed him with, but Scott knew he would have been white-knuckling the handle of his sword regardless.

And so, as lava scorched the grass around Scott's feet, all he could think is that he really should have expected a turn against him. And yet, he felt the sting of betrayal.

Because it was Martyn. Loyal to a fault, there to defend, the ever-steady ally Martyn. The one who had sprinted through an overgrown forest with him to stop attempts on Scott's then-yellow life, the one who Scott trusted to take this life so nobody else could take the time, the one who mere minutes before had been chased around by Pearl and waited for Scott to save him.

Scott felt at least a little justified in his surprise.

He felt the blade enter his back, too.

Martyn was yelling something over it all, but Scott more heard the blood rushing in his ears than anything. He craned his neck towards the sound as he collapsed, face first, into the dirt below.

And through the fire and the ember of the spreading lava, he saw not Martyn, but someone- something else entirely.

He looked like a man possessed; or, more accurately, a man who had seen too much, knew too much, and had finally broken from the weight of it all. Mortal men were not meant to be privy to whatever secrets his betrayer had learned.

His eyes were blown wide, crazed, and already darting towards Impulse. Scott noted, perhaps due to the delirium the paid blood loss induced, that he looked like a bucking horse. It was the wild and insane look of an animal that had once known its companion and lost it. What was once tame had become undone, and in its place was pure, raw, unguided emotion lashing out at whatever poor fool happened to be closest.

Which was, of course, Scott.

Time seemed to be slowing. The time between seconds seemed to get exponentially longer with every moment. All the dying man could do was wait for whichever second was going to be his last.

Martyn swung round. Scott assumed it was fast, as the sash he was wearing kicked up into the air and splayed out brilliantly, but for Scott's distorted state of mind the action felt like eternity, giving him plenty of time to drink in the details.

His eye naturally caught on the other's cloth belt, and if he could have laughed, he would have. It explained so much. What Scott had mistakenly thought was just a simple red accessory to complete a pirate aesthetic instead bore the unmistakable trio of triangles on the end hem that designated Dogwarts.

And Scott realized a few things.

Martyn is loyal to a fault, there to defend, and an ever-steady ally. But, after the fourth go of things, trends become known. The hand will always be there for his king, people would say. Stay away from that one, he will leave to be with Ren.

It was advice Scott took to heart. He wasn't that mad when his soulmate stole away to the nether instead of finding him; he worked with Pearl before, she was a fantastic ally the round before. But she had found a friend in Martyn. Martyn came with baggage.

But when that baggage wasn't there, as the players learned on day one when the cycle began anew, the calculus changed- or so Scott thought.

Even after all this time, even covered in coral from head to toe, even when the king was nowhere to be seen, he was only ever loyal to Dogwarts.

Scott turned his head back towards the clear blue sky and saw a bolt of lightning, originating from no cloud and seeming to stretch into the infinite above, slowly coming ever closer. It branched into five as it approached, giving the plasma the shape of a spindly, near-skeletal hand reaching for him.

His time was up.

He could see just off to the side, another fledgling streak of pure energy descending from the heavens to the humble, crated, bloodied dirt. Scott noted Martyn was still yelling despite it.

He had won. His own Mean Gill had won.

Scott closed his eyes and smiled. He wouldn't have it any other way.

#inthelittlewood #scott smajor #limited life

[fountainpenguin]

"Watch as he buckles and bends but never breaks... No mistakes!" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! Only the most expected Traffic SMP content in this 'fic <3

Chapter 7 - “Firebreak (Etho)”

Read on AO3

Start from Chapter 1

---

After dumping PiglinMyNose off at Jimmy's game night, Etho searches the portal hub for SnifferMyFeet. Pig may have laughed in his face over the whole "let me look at your code so I can rebuild Joel's vessel" thing, but maybe Sniff will take the bait?

AKA - The one where Etho drinks his Respect Camera Account juice, discovers he has a half-ex, and commits a crime.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Etho

Self-Taught Programmer

Full-Time Hero

💚  💛  ❤️

Etho doesn’t make a habit of frequenting Jimmy’s parties. Tango’s? Sure; he loves the guy. Tango knows how to play him like a note block, hitting all his greedy keys and collector’s instincts. Tango deals cards of his own making. He customizes every party like a snare. And he themes his snacks; that man does not cut corners. Which isn’t a slight at Jimmy; no, no, no! It’s just…

… My line of work never lends itself to drinking. Especially on nights like tonight. Oh boy. He’s got a whole lot of work to do. As he and PiglinMyNose approach the card shop, Etho pulls the communicator from his pocket and glances at the screen. Right, okay. Three things to note here:

One full Overworld day/night cycle has passed since Joel’s vessel started disintegrating.

He gets twelve before the Between dimension kicks him to his original soul spawner. If it’s still standing. It needs to be standing; Etho’s hearts can’t take another strand of pressure.

Three hours is not a lot of time to do the aforementioned ‘a whole lot of work.’

Well, this is why they think I pull off miracles. He’s never failed before… in a way that anyone would hold against him. But as they climb the outdoor stairs towards the roof of the card shop, Etho… presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. So, Pig bailed. If I don’t find a new model, I’m dead in the water. Then Joel’s going back to spawn town.

Yeah. Because he totally wants to be the one to tell Lizzie her husband isn’t coming home.

Etho’s comm is still glowing blue. His screen displays a pulsing infinity sign, indicating his player’s still online (definitely fiddling around on the single-player). All the block updates are logged to the world file and since he’s playing solo, Etho technically doesn’t need to be there… though his neck twitches instinctively in that direction, and in his newbie days he definitely couldn’t have broken the pathfinding pull. That’s one of the benefits of dedicating your whole life to a couple single-player series, actually. Once you’ve been around long enough, you’ve got a system. You get a feel for when it’s okay to step away without everything crashing down.

But time ticks regardless. Once he passes into sunset hour, the screen in his hand will glow orange. And when it hits green… Well.

That’s phantom hour. And no one ever makes it to the end of phantom hour.

Correction: One person has. But that’s because Martyn pushes himself farther than his body can handle for the sake of his newest partner in crime. He’s stupid soft on them. Not Etho’s business; just a rumor he heard floating between Pearl and BigB a couple months ago.

Anyways. Yeah, he’s got time to be here. When the big boss logs out, the infinity sign will click over to a timer and start ticking down. Etho’s an oldie; he’s built up his stamina and he can last in Between longer than most. Maybe… six hours without a break? That sounds right these days. He’s pulled multi-play sessions before, and though they leave him exhausted, he’ll do it again. He’ll do it a thousand times for no one but himself. It’s relaxing, honestly. No one can need you when you’re the only one in the friend group left awake.

“Pig, can I see your comm?”

Piggy Boy moves like he wants everyone to know he’s a newbie, loud and clear. His mismatched shoes smack on every step. Jimmy always hosts his parties in the rooftop garden of Beef’s card shop and Pig skirts back and forth, peering over the stairs. They’re nice stairs; Scott put a lot of thought into picking a stone design that isn’t slippery. Pig leans so far that he drips blue slime droplets on the road below. He stares for a few seconds, then seems to register the question. His comm’s on his wrist. He extends his arm towards Etho without looking over. Etho glances at the screen. The timer’s steadily pulsing, orange glow undeniable.

I guess that makes sense. He’s Joel’s camera account… and Joel’s player would’ve been kicked when his vessel broke apart. That’s probably what this whole thing translates to in the outside land. A weird bug. Another glitch in the system. Overheated device, maybe. Nothing a little turning things on and off again won’t fix. Thoughts and prayers. Give it time.

Etho blinks, quietly, and tries not to envy Watcher Joel.

“Oh! Oh, what in the world? Dude, I’ve never actually seen the clock tower before! Any other day, I’d just go straight home. Sniff’s so fussy when I’m late; he’s just one of those silly gooses.”

“Pig, come on,” Etho calls softly. “Let’s keep it moving. You’re gonna drip all over the stairs. Let’s keep moving, okay?”

Pig bobs his head and sprints up the rest of the stairs to the garden. Oh boy. Etho keeps right on his heels. There’s chatter, but it’s pretty mild at this time of afternoon. Even with the break they took after the server glitch, Grian still let them out early and Jimmy’s got a couple hours to go before game night starts. As Etho crests the final step, he spots the canary-winged man hanging up a little ‘Welcome’ banner, chatting with BigB and Tango. Tango’s really into it, making wild arm gestures. His flicking tail could knock the feathers off a chicken. BigB sits on the railing with his moth wings twitching, glancing back like he’s watching for someone to pass through the streets below. And Impulse stands on Tango’s other side, rubbing his eyes with intent to kill. Geez. Somebody squirt hot sauce in them or something?

None of them pay any attention to the two newcomers at the top of the stairs. Bdubs and Martyn, however, snap around like they’ve been shot. They abandon the azalea they were looking at so fast, it’s like they were waiting for an excuse. Ah. They can smell Pig’s invisible sync cord ticking down through sunset hour. It’s what phantom hybrids do.

“Heeeey, gorgeous,” Bdubs crows, ducking forward. He keeps his hands clasped behind his back, his mossy cloak swishing like a cape behind him. Now that they’re off the Dog’s Life server, Bdubs isn’t using his battered, bruised skin anymore. His smile could sink a sandstorm. There’s light and dancing in his sugar-brown eyes, and Etho wraps a warning arm around Pig’s shoulders. Bdubs ticks his tongue and veers away at a slant. “You’re off spectator for the evening, huh? I see how it is! Well, you’re in luck. It’s party time tonight and you’re in the best part of town!”

Pig, oblivious, smiles back at him. “There he is! Well, hello there! And yeah, I’m doing fantastic, actually; we love to see it.”

Jimmy’s distant voice trails off. He turns. Etho catches one split-second of shock before Martyn’s head blocks his view. Martyn straightens, poised as though presenting himself before a king, with a glass of sparkling cyan balanced in his hand. “Aww, it’s baby��s first corporeal night, then? Come get a drink, Pig! It is ‘Pig,’ right? We’ve got 1s.”

“What’s 1s?” Pig asks, absently brushing Etho’s arm from his shoulder. Etho presses his lips together, but doesn’t replace it. He steps to the side, a little closer to Bdubs.

“You know! Numbers!” Martyn thrusts his glass in the air. The binary code sloshes around inside. “It’s the blue one. Tastes a bit like sushi and a li’l like chocolate. Give it a sip, if you’re up for it. You might like it. Though it’s a little flat this time of eve, if I’m honest… It’ll perk up once the night gets rolling.”

Pig reaches for Martyn’s glass, which sends Martyn backpedaling and spluttering, telling him to keep his mitts off and go fetch his own. Etho winces.

“Pig, you might wanna stick to 0s…”

“I want a glass of 1s,” he says, pushing forward, and Martyn, beaming, swings an arm around Pig’s neck.

“Well, you heard the guy! He maxes out experience points tonight. Let’s get him his 1s!”

[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]

#trafficblr #EthosLab #PiglinMyNose #SnifferMyFeet #Joel Smallishbeans #Sniff and Pig #mcyt #BdoubleO100 #Martyn InTheLittleWood #Dog's Life #Boat Boys #divorce duo #TwoMuchGrian #Grian #Pixels Imperfect #traffic life smp #idk what to say but I feel like Etho being polite to cam accounts is a very Etho thing to do send post #Everyone in this story is morally gray but at least Etho is aware of himself. Officer he is literally just a guy. #Lizzie LDShadowLady #ridwriting #fic announcement #Dog's Life art