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arthropod-concoctions · 2 months

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I had an amazing time participating in the @mcytrecursive exchange these last months! I've made a gift for @sharo-maneru, based on her and SugarsweetRomantic's fic Speak to the gods, and they shall answer.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP

Relationship: Zedaph & Docm77

Character: Zedaph

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Religion, Mythology - Freeform, not inspired by any specific myths, liberal use of epithets, Animal Sacrifice, not shown but repeatedly mentioned, Ascending to Godhood.

Summary: The story of an inventor, driven by desperation into godhood.

Text of the fic below the cut!

The inventor was the son of shepherds. He loved his parents and their sheep greatly, always taking care of them both, but there was nothing he loved more than inventing. Hours upon hours he would sit in his room, creating contraptions of all shapes and sizes. He would sell some of them; to like-minded inventors as inspiration, or to other farmers and friends of his parents, on the rare occasion that there was a clear way to use the device. Many of the devices remained in his house, existing just to sate the inventor's curiosity, and to be a curiosity to his parents.

It was one such day, when the man was deeply invested in his creations, that armed figures arrived at their doorstep. They demanded to be given their best sheep, as an offering to their gods. The shepherds, who were getting old and were in no shape to protest, complied.

When the inventor realised what had happened he was distraught. He berated himself for being so caught up in his work he didn't interfere, but his parents told him there was nothing he could've done.

“All we can do now is pray that they don't return,” they said, and so they did.

But the warriors did return. Every week they would come and demand a sheep, and every time the shepherds complied, their herd dwindling quickly.

The inventor grew restless. There had to be something he could do to save his and his family's livelihood, he thought as he lay awake one night. But his parents were right; he had never been trained for combat, so he had no hope of stopping them that way. All he could do was pray; but they had been praying for months, and had received no help. Meanwhile, the warriors took their sheep as offerings, to gain the favor of their own gods.

It was unfair, he thought. Why do they gain the favor of the gods by taking from us, while we receive nothing but silence for our suffering?

Then, an idea sparked in the inventor's mind. Maybe he had to do a little more than pray to receive the gods' help.

The next day he returned to his workshop with a fervor; he was crafting with purpose now. He took an armful of ram's horns they had stored away, and fashioned them into a crown to wear on his head, adding a support that would lean on his shoulder to help manage the weight. He took the mystical red dust that powered so many of his creations and mixed it with crushed blue stone, creating a glowing purple paste to paint his face with. He took a pristine woolen blanket that he used in wintertime and made it into a coat, using the same paste to decorate it with intricate patterns. Then he went outside, gathered many heavy stones, put them into a large bag and tied the bag to a pulley, in such a way that the stones would be released at the pull of a trigger. After his preparations, he told his parents that one way or another, the gods would ensure the warriors did not return.

Seven days after the previous raid, the inventor took his disguise and painted his face, went outside, and waited. He had never seen the warriors that terrorised his family's homestead, a fact which he saw as a blessing now; it meant they had never seen him either.

The sun was setting when they arrived, and the inventor quickly understood why his parents had never argued with them. They wore heavy armor and carried fierce weapons. The inventor grew nervous at the sight of them, and he almost decided to stay hidden, let go of his plan-- but a burst of determination hit him. He had to do this, or his family's livelihood would be gone. He rose from his position and approached the warriors.

“Just what do you think you're doing?” he called out, and the warriors spun around in shock.

“Who are you?” One of them asked, pointing a spear in the disguised inventor's direction.

“You know who I am. Offerings of sheep have brought me here,” he replied, resisting the urge to draw away from the spear. A god would not flinch at a mortal's weapon. Fortunately, the support of his crown of horns forced his head to stay proudly upright.

He saw the looks on the warriors' faces; some looked skeptical, but many others seemed to believe him. The long shadows of the setting sun obscured the edges where his disguise failed, and the shining swirls of paint on his face and cloak would make him look otherworldly, especially to those unfamiliar with the properties of redstone.

When the leader of the troupe spoke, his voice was tinged with awe: “Are... are You satisfied with our offerings? Have You come to bless our mission?”

“'Your' offerings? You must be mistaken,” the man appearing as a god said. “Are you the ones that raised and cared for those sheep?” He took a step forward; the warrior took a step back.

“Are you the ones that depended on those sheep to live? And are you the ones that had them taken from you, putting your lives at risk to feed Me?” he continued, stepping forward with each question.

When the leader spoke again, his voice was trembling. “We are the ones that cast the-”

“No. I have seen these sheep's lives, and I know where they came from. As far as I am concerned, the offers to my favor were made by these shepherds.”

One more step forward. “And they only prayed for one thing: to be left alone. So leave.” With those words, the inventor released a string he had been covertly holding; the string connected to a large pulley, which had been holding up the bag of stones. They now clattered to the ground, causing a powerful rumbling and making the ground tremble.

The warriors, frightened by this display of power, fled. The inventor breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that he'd scared the warriors off for good, and he and his parents could live their lives in peace.

It was when he turned around that he saw a different figure, the sight of whom made his disguise pale in comparison. A shining green light coalesced into the silhouette of a man, with long curved horns like those of a goat's protruding from his head; he towered over the inventor, face unreadable.

“You are bold, mortal, to claim to be one of Us,” the god said.

The inventor gulped, his bravado threatening to leave him, but curiosity prevailed over his fear. If this was a god-- and it had to be, even he couldn't comprehend how to form an illusion like this-- then this was a chance like none other to finally receive answers.

“Why have You come now?” he whispered. “Why not earlier?”

“I have been watching you,” the god replied, his voice sounding like a whisper yet clearly audible. “Testing your inventiveness... and your faith. I chose to reveal myself after seeing what you've done today.”

Of course. Pretending to be a god was blasphemy of the highest degree. “I'm sorry, I didn't think-” he stammered, then looked down at the ground. “Well, I thought you'd abandoned us. That was foolish of me, I shouldn't have-”

But the god interrupted him. “No. Look at me,” he said. The inventor obeyed, and watched the god's appearance shift; his skin and clothing shifted from being made of green light to natural colors, he morphed from a towering figure to a man's height, and his horns seemed to fade into the distance, forming just a faint green outline of his head. He looked intimidating, but human. And he smiled.

“I was like you, once. I believed myself to be equal to the gods, greater, even, and proclaimed this proudly.” His voice sounded more natural now, and the inventor heard a foreign accent as the man-god spoke. “To show me how wrong I was, the gods decided to give me exactly what I wanted: an inkling of Their divinity.

“They called it a curse, but I call it a blessing. It is an existence of power, but also loneliness; and that is why I turned my attention to you. What is your name, mortal?”

The inventor's mouth was dry. He understood the god's words, understood what he was offering, yet could not believe it. A fraction of divinity; the ability to see the world as a whole, to be able to create with only a thought? Who could possibly call that a curse? And yet-

“Will I be able to see my parents again?” he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

“You will always watch over them, but they can never see you. What is your name, mortal?” the god repeated.

He didn't like the idea of that loneliness, but again, curiosity prevailed over his fear. He could not decline. “Zedaph,” he said.

The god's smile widened into a grin, almost mischievious. “I am Doc. Follow me, friend. We have much to talk about.”

And so the God of Invention, patron of shepherds, became twofold. And though the shepherds mourned for their son, they would never be attacked again.

#arthropod writes #hermitcraft fic #zedaph #mcyt recursive exchange #what's a god to an inventor?

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rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice · 7 months

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MCYT Yuri Week Day Six!

Prompt: Sleep/Party

Ship: Cleo (ZombieCleo)/Lizzie (LDShadowLady)

Series: Life Series SMP

Word Count: 287

@mcyt-yuri-week

Last Life was over. The game had been won.

Yet Cleo couldn't stop seeing visions of pink in their dreams.

She would lie awake in her house long after Scott had gone to sleep across the bridge, bright blue eyes and tinkling laughter on a loop in their mind.

As they slept, Cleo would be plagued by memories of that night in the Fairy Forest. The look of fear and panic on her former ally's face. But there would also be good dreams, every now and then. Secret kisses in the trees, running from skeletons together hand in hand.

Cleo would wake up shaken either way.

The following season wasn't much better, either. New team, new game, same restless nights. She wore red paint beneath her eyes to hide the dark rings.

Between TNT minecarts and ravager chases, they saw the girl who haunted her thoughts more than anyone else. In every hour lost, they caught a glimpse of her old team mate.

Even in her final moments, facing off against Pearl, Bigb, and Grian, she couldn't help but feel a bit relieved that- at least until the next season- she could rest outside of the games.

Finally, three seasons later, Cleo could see her again. She almost hadn't believed it when they saw the pink haired girl standing around spawn, but once she heard her voice, they knew it couldn't be anything but the real her.

"Lizzie?" She spoke as she stumbled across the girl setting up a base along the river.

Lizzie turned to face her, smiling just as beautifully as she had in Cleo's dreams.

Only this time, Cleo wasn't sleeping.

Lizzie was here, at long last.

Cleo could finally sleep peacefully at night.

#mcytyuriweek2023 #shadowrot

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i-am-beckyu · 1 year

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Prompt 3 bc you said I'm in a chaos mood

You said you lost it, was this it?

Treat Spiders the way you want to be treated. Killed without hesitation.

3D my gorgeous child. When you first sent your prompts, I was hyper fixating on jornos. But at 11pm we had an idea and brain said: WRITE IT! and speed wrote it. So I hope you like this extremely angsty fic because it is just angst on angst on angst :D

cw: death mentions (there's a lot but no one other than a mention bugs actually dying), fear, panic, anxiety, spider hybrids (arachnophobes I gotchu) death, a bit graphic with descriptions. In other words: I went hard with angst lol promise it has happy ending one shot words: 1204

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

Shroud knew he wasn't going to make it. His own mother had made that clear to him the day he had hatched, but he had never thought he was going to meet his end this way. It was a cruel life to be born into, but he had managed and now he was fully grown to a good 2 inches tall. All his siblings had long since left the cocoon leaving him to fend for himself. In a world that was kill or be killed, he was lucky he had survived this long. Even if it was through hiding in the unreachable crevices of his old home to avoid being picked off. But without anyone or anything left in the cocoon to provide him nutrients with, he’d eventually been forced to leave and find somewhere that had more food available.

He’d seen many things on his journey looking for a safe haven to call home. Many terrible and horrible things. He’d watched as helpless other spiders had been snatched up and devoured by birds. Watched as heavy rains drowned other insects and bugs. He’d witnessed how insects and bugs fought others of their own species and eaten the remains of their dead foes. He was lucky in the sense of being a spider hybrid, having the smarts of a person rather than just another mindless prey, but having witnessed such horrors the world could cause, made him ever restless in his search for safety. But even they were nothing in comparison to how he was to meet his end.

He’d only heard of them in legend. One of the few stories his mother had told him when they went to sleep at night. Out of all the predators in this world, none are more ruthless and terrifying than humans. 100x a spider hybrids size with triple the smarts. While they seem just like them minus 4 arms and a few other features, never mistake: they will only ever bring about your doom. For every way you could possibly think of dying, they had 10 plus more unimaginable ways to bring about your death. They could squish you beneath their gigantic thumbs, use their despicable sprays to poison the air, suck you up and leave you to die in their monstrous machines, trap you in jars and use you for experimentation or perhaps even burn you alive! The humans were creatures that could and would only bring about your demise. And Shroud was trapped in one’s cabinet.

He didn’t know it was a humans’ home he had stumbled upon. The space he’d been scouting had been clear of any living creature for several hours before he had even dared getting closer and climbing up with the help of his webs. But as he had made his way about looking for food, the loud voices of people approaching could be heard, along with the vibrations of their footsteps shaking the earth as they went. It wasn’t hard to guess what was coming. Shroud didn’t have time to think as the door to the cabinet was flung open. He tried to hide behind one of the boxes on the shelf in attempts of not being seen, but unfortunately for him, it was the very box he was hidden behind that the human grabbed.

A loud scream filled the air, as did the sound of a box crashing harshly down and onto the floor. “THERE’S A SPIDER IN THE CABINET!!!” The human shrieked. Shroud threw his hands over his ears at the sheer volume the human spoke in. “TOMMY!!!! GET IN HERE AND KILL IT!!!” Shroud froze at the humans’ words. He tried to turn and run, but his legs felt like jelly and he barely stumbled a few steps before falling to the cabinets floor. “TUBBO?!? TUBBO WHAT’S WRONG??” A second humans’ voice appeared yelling in alarm. Shroud continued to try and get away, till he had scrambled into the corner of the cabinet.

“It's in the Cabinet Tommy. Top shelf! Kill it!! Please kill it! Kill it! Kill it!!!” the first human shouted again.

A shadow was suddenly cast over Shroud, blocking out the light. He scrunched his eyes tightly shut, as his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. His breathing became short and staggered as he waited for his impending doom. He didn’t want to see how he was going to die. He’d tried so hard to make it. He’d survived with so little for so long. He just wanted to find someplace safe!

“A spider is not going to hurt you Tubbo so just- oh. Hello.” The human spoke above him, surprise laced in their voice. When nothing happened, Shroud peaked an eye open and was surprised to see not the human ready to kill him, but instead adorned with a soft gentle smile. “Just look at you.” They exclaimed, reaching their hand towards him, their pointer finger outstretched. Shroud shut his eyes once more and buried his face into his 6 arms tighter, willing himself to just disappear from existence.

“Tubbo you d*** head, this isn’t a spider. It’s a tiny spider-human-like hybrid.”

The human began to gently scratch the top of Shrouds head. He relaxed slightly at the contact. No one had ever touched him like this before. “Well just hurry up and kill it Tommy! It’s still a spider!” the other human screeched at its human friend.

“Tubbo! You can’t say s*** like that!” The human replied as he stopped scratching Shrouds head. Shroud whined at the loss of contact lifting his head as if to follow after the giant appendage. He didn’t want them to stop.

“Like that huh?” The human said, smirking a little at his display.

Shroud looked the human over once more. They were like nothing he’d ever imagined. They had blond curly hair and bright blue eyes and were staring at him like he was the most precious thing in the entire world. But that didn’t make sense? Humans were supposed to be ruthless killing machines? Even their friend had seemed desperate for their companion to dispose of him! Why were they being so kind?

Suddenly the human's hands reappeared and scooped him up off the shelf and into its grasp. He wanted to fight it and get away, but Shroud couldn’t help himself from melting into the warmth beneath him. It was so nice and it felt safe. “Oh you’re such a sweetie.” The human said, raising him up higher to his face to get a better look at him. “What’s your name?” they asked. Oh so quietly, he responded “Shroud.” he said semi trying to hide himself at being so close to the apex predator.

“It’s nice to meet you Shroud. I’m Tommy.” The human- Tommy said with a smile. “Would you like to get something to eat?” He asked. Shroud gave a very hesitant nod, and Tommy began to walk out of wherever it was they were in and to somewhere new. Not even acknowledging the other freaked out human as they went.

And it was after that day that two things happened to Shroud. He finally had found himself a safe place to call home, and somehow gained a loving protecting father.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

wow. just wow. I just chose angst writing this. like man. Just how many different ways can I cram in death in one fic? A lot it seems. If you read to the end, thanks for doing so and I hope you enjoyed the fic ❤️

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 9 months

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“Dude, I’m not gonna be able to sleep with you boring a hole into my back.”

- - -

Loony has an established habit of never sleeping, but there's only so long someone can go before they drop.

hello deceit fans. welcome to the ao3 tag ive just started.

#deceit smp #legundo #loonymc #what if they got to be SOFT. have you considered that.#also this is tagged as platonic cause that was my original intent #but i’m gonna be so real you can read it whatever way you want #that title is from a song about a romantic relationship so like #also if my voice for either of them is off. i just got here like a week ago.#once i’ve been around for longer i’ll get them down better

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muuum-am-i-adohhhpted · 11 months

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Let Me Be Your Light (Empires SMP)

Summary: Twin orphans, Gem and fWhip, are the newest hires at Circo de Fantasia, a travelling circus filled with performers who have various magical abilities. However, the Mad King has been following the circus around for decades to steal the powers of various performers to take for himself. Recently, fWhip has been the most recent victim. Gem, who was born without powers and who only joined the circus to be with her brother, consoles fWhip while also realizing she may be integral to defeating the Mad King and getting everyone's abilities back.

AO3 Link

Word Count: 6797

Thank you to @mcytblraufest for hosting the event! Also absolutely huge shout-outs to my incredible artists @yoshiintheweb (art link)and @pidgedee (art here)!! The pieces look amazing!

~~~

Chapter 1

The Circo de Fantasia was a whirl of activity an hour before sundown—the time when the circus would officially open to the random city they had chosen. They were planning to stay for a week; it gave people living outside city limits time to travel to see the circus, but not too long that the performers got restless.

Multi-coloured striped tents littered the flat plot of land in organized chaos. The red-and-white big top, where the trapeze and tightrope apparatuses were set up, sat in the heart of the circus; all paths ended up there.

Gem hefted up her box of popcorn kernels further up her hip to keep it from slipping. She was heading in the opposite direction of the big top, towards the front entrance where the snack tent stood. Katherine, the strong woman, passed by with two large metal poles balanced on her shoulders like double fishing rods.

The snack tent was hard to miss. It was built to catch the eyes of anybody who passed through the main gates. The glass display was already filled with cookies, cupcakes, cotton candy, and slices of cake of all kinds of flavours. The choices were so vast that options had to be switched in and out on different days of the circus. Tonight there were oatmeal cookies, strawberry cupcakes, blueberry cotton candy, and carrot cake. The latter Gem had to be careful with—she was allergic to carrots.

There were other more exotic treats baked by the witch, Shelby: gum that, once chewed, made the consumer’s tongue a random, glowing colour; ice cream that made steam come out of a person’s ears and nose, the cone able to act like a goat horn to make various loud noises; and brownies that caused the person’s hair to float as if there were no gravity.

As Gem was putting the box of kernels away in the back as extra, Sausage appeared at the other end of the display case, Mittens the large boa constrictor twirling around his neck. The ostrich named Pippy was to his left.

Mittens let out a hiss, her tongue flicking out. Her triangular head bobbed in Gem’s direction.

“Mittens says you should check on fWhip,” Sausage translated, pursing his lips. Then, after a pause, “Tell him that, if he wants, he can help me out with my acts. I could always use more hands.”

“Thanks.” Gem gave a curt nod as Sausage continued on his way. She finished straightening out the snack tent before heading in the direction of the personal tents, way in the back of the circus.

The personal tents were much smaller and made of black material as they only had to house a bed, a dresser, and maybe a couple pieces of belongings. fWhip’s tent was right next to her own.

“fWhip,” she called out to her brother as she stood just outside his tent. “Can I come in?”

There was a muffled grunt from the other side that Gem took to be a “yes,” and so she entered.

The tent was sparsely decorated, which was to be expected. She and fWhip had only arrived at the circus two months prior, a little after their fourteenth birthdays, and they had been orphans living on the street. Not many personal belongings to spruce up the tent with. Gem’s only possession was a family picture of herself, fWhip, and their parents from Before.

fWhip himself was curled up in his bed, his red hair pointing in all directions. His face wasn’t nearly as pale as it had been a week ago at their last city, so Gem supposed that was one positive. Still, fWhip had been unusually quiet on their trip here. Gem couldn’t really blame him though—he was going through a lot.

“How are you feeling?” Gem asked quietly, sitting at the end of fWhip’s bed.

fWhip grunted again and dug his head into his pillow even more. He had mostly stayed in bed all day and the Ringmaster allowed it, saying that fWhip was grieving and needed a little more time to get back on his feet.

“Sausage told me that you could help him during his acts,” Gem said. “I know you like helping him care for the boars.” She tried to keep her voice as soothing as possible.

fWhip rolled over onto his back and his eyebrows were drawn down. “I don’t want another act,” he snapped. “I want my own one back.”

“Well, sleight of hand—”

fWhip grimaced. “I do not do sleight of hand—I mean did.” He stumbled over his words, the past tense clearly paining him to say. “There ought to be a way to get my magic back.”

Gem decided not to engage with more talk about the Mad King. Instead, she pivoted. “Just look at everybody who's lost their powers. Katherine might not be inhumanly strong anymore, but she’s worked out so much that she can still lift more than the average person can. False used to be able to fly, but now she does the trapeze. Jimmy could adjust his height at will, now he’s our contortionist.”

“But that’s the thing,” fWhip said. “Everyone already had those talents before the Mad King stole their powers. Katherine consistently exercised even when she could single handedly lift an elephant, False already swung around the forest like a monkey, Jimmy’s limbs were always freakishly flexible. Martyn didn’t grow up afraid of fire, so he can do non-magical fire acts. And Joel didn’t have to change much out of his act—just had to go on a tightrope without electricity pulsing through the rope.”

Gem had been wracking her head for an exception then finally landed on one. “Joey! He used to be able to control water and now he throws knives.”

“I don’t want to learn a new skill. I want my old one back.” fWhip finally sat up and he frowned, his eyes blazing. “You don’t understand, Gem. The magic that was inside of me, it was always there ever since I was born. I could always replace things with other objects, could always pull a pen out of someone’s pockets, put a coin in someone else’s. And now it’s just gone. You don’t have powers so you don’t understand.”

Gem blinked rapidly, not expecting her brother’s words to hurt as much as they did. Her lack of powers had been something she’d grappled with when their parents had still been alive; fWhip could do literal magic, she couldn’t. As they got older, the difference hurt less and less. Regardless, the bruise was still there.

Gem’s hands turned to fists in her skirts and she rapidly stood up. “Fine. I’ll just leave then. I’m trying to be nice and offer you some ideas on other acts you can do without your magic. And sure, I might not understand what it’s like to lose your powers, but I sure do understand what it’s like to be powerless.” Her nose crinkled as she grimaced. She yanked open the flap of fWhip’s tent. “It’s not so bad, you know, but you make it seem like the Mad King stole your life rather than your magic.”

Gem stomped away.

Chapter 2

By the time Gem changed out of her regular clothes and into her wizard’s costume (it was Circo de Fantasia; fantasy was in their name and the Ringmaster took it very seriously), the circus was about to open.

Above, dark clouds threatened to rain. Gem hoped it would hold off, at least until the end of the circus. However, despite the lack of natural light from the moon, the circus was properly lit up. Fire torches and electric lamps and fairy lights decorated the paths and tents. There was no shadowy area within the circus grounds, not even among the personal tents—especially among the personal tents.

Even though everything was well-lit (probably too lit for a night-time circus), Gem was still on edge. What if the Mad King found them again? Although he usually showed up one every two or three cities, the Ringmaster said the king was becoming more powerful due to all the magic he was stealing from people.

Scott, who was able to see a person’s magical aura due to his magical eye, said he could feel the power radiating from the King. When the Mad King had arrived last, stealing fWhip’s power, Scott had said the king’s flame burned bright and large—unnaturally strong. When Gem had questioned Scott about this when she’d just arrived at the circus, she’d asked him how it had all worked.

“It’s as if everyone has a candle inside them,” Scott had replied, looking at her with his blue eye and yellow crystal one. It had creeped her out at first; his yellow eye reminded her of a cat’s. Now, Gem was pretty used to his heterochromia. “Most people have regular flames. You know, tiny drops of fire that flicker every so often. However, others have a brighter flame, more immoveable. It’s hard to describe the difference, but those are the people with magical abilities. Those who have these abilities can train to make their fire within them stronger, but there’s a natural stopping point when it can’t get any bigger or more radiant.” Scott had shrugged.

Martyn, who had been previously rocking in his rocking chair, spoke up. His grey hair poked around his cowboy hat. He was the oldest performer at the circus by a long shot and his wrinkles grew deeper as he smiled. “Not me, though.”

“No, not Martyn,” Scott admitted. “Martyn used to be able to create and wield fire. But fire is alive and has a mind of its own. Without care, it can catch and grow out of hand. It actively fights against anything or anybody trying to control it. And, because of that, Martyn’s inner flame was much weaker since a part of his magic was fighting against the nature of fire.”

Martyn had laughed. “Now I just have to be extra careful when wielding fire; I’m not automatically fireproof nor can I douse fire with my mind!”

Returning back to the present, Gem sighed as she put in a bunch of popcorn kernels into the bright red popcorn machine behind the display of foods. Already, popcorn smell was wafting around the tent, all thanks to Shelby’s popcorn-smelling potion being released around the circus’ grounds.

The light jingle of bells announced Oli’s arrival, wearing a multi-coloured jester hat decorated with mini bells. His ukulele (dressed as a lute) was strung behind his back and multiple other instruments were hanging off his person. Trailing behind him was seven-year-old Hermes on a unicycle and wearing a similar court jester’s outfit.

“Gem!” Oli greeted with a kind smile and wave. He was a year older than Gem and that probably was one of the reasons why they got along well. “Ready for another night?”

“Of course,” Gem smiled, just as the popcorn began popping. She poured out a small cup and gave it to Hermes who took it eagerly.

Oli then became a little more serious. “And how’s fWhip doing?”

Pursing her lips, Gem responded, “Not exactly well. He’s missing his powers quite a bit. Lashing out.” She decided not to get into the details and what exact words were said.

“Dad was angry when the Mad King stole his powers,” Hermes said. “He tried to hide it from me, but I could tell it really upset him that he couldn’t do his usual tricks on the tightrope. He couldn’t clear the storms that could close the circus for the night.” The young boy frowned. “He’s happier now, I think.”

Oli patted Hermes on the back before pulling his ukulele around. He strummed out a chord and hummed along with it. He began picking at the strings, creating lyrics on the spot. Something about losing a part of yourself and never really being the same afterwards.

Tears pricked in the corner of Gem’s eyes and she sniffed violently to stop them from falling. She swatted Oli’s hat. “Stop that! You’re going to make everyone who steps inside the circus burst into tears.”

Oli placed his hands along the four strings of the ukulele to stop their vibrations before starting up a new song, much more upbeat than the last. A grin spread on Gem’s face as she felt the tune raise her spirits, joy rushing through her body.

“I wish the emotions you created stayed after you stopped your music,” Gem said with a sigh. fWhip could use some happiness in his life right now, even if it was fabricated and would evaporate as soon as Oli stopped singing or playing.

Oli shrugged, just as the first people entered the circus. “I’m only really good at temporarily changing emotions. It wouldn’t be healthy if it was permanent.”

“You’re probably right,” Gem said, readying her hands to fill bags of popcorn and hand out food for most of the night.

It wasn’t too bad, really. She liked seeing the people who entered the circus and, on the nights where they were opened multiple times in a single city, she enjoyed recognizing the people who came again and again.

People of all ages walked through the gate. A lot of the people entered were families with younger children, but older folks and adult couples oftentimes came too.

And it wasn’t as if Gem would be behind the snack tent forever. False was teaching her some trapeze moves and soon they could be a double act, flinging each other around in the sky. Gem wasn’t quite there yet, but it was exciting having future plans that weren’t just popcorn girl.

Abruptly, every light and flame in the circus went out. A dark fog appeared, making it so that the city’s light pollution was completely gone as well. There was only blackness. The brownie in Gem’s hand she was about to give to a child dropped to the ground.

Gem’s knees went weak and her mind began to race. Somewhere nearby, a kid began crying. Gem’s heart thumped, suddenly thrown back into her childhood where monsters lived in her closet and under the bed, and she had to sleep with a little light plugged in to ward away anything evil.

Panicking, she felt around until she was out of the snack tent. Light, she needed light. Blood was rushing in her ears and Gem began to run, hands out in front of her. She knew it was dangerous, that she could possibly run into someone or even a pole holding up a tent, but Gem couldn’t think straight; the only thing repeating in her mind was light. She was a moth frantically searching for a lamp.

Heat built up inside of her chest and Gem fell to her knees, gripping at her heart. Pain burned through her body, tears forcing their way out of her eyes. Was this what a heart attack felt like? Was she going to die here, in the unnatural darkness? Then, all of a sudden, there was a bright burst of golden light and Gem passed out.

Chapter 3

When Gem opened her eyes, fWhip was peering down at her, his nose practically touching her own.

She jumped, nearly smacking heads with her brother in the process. “fWhip!” she exclaimed, her voice slightly hoarse.

fWhip stood back, slightly sheepish. “Sorry,” he muttered, and Gem realized they were in her tent. “I wanted to see if you were still breathing.”

Gem squinted around the tent, in search of her clock. She finally found it, the hands telling her it was early morning. “What—what happened?” she asked. She remembered the darkness, the fear, and then the bright light.

There were footsteps outside her tent. “May Scott and I come in?” the Ringmaster said. “I can answer a few of your questions.”

“Sure,” Gem said, and waited until the Ringmaster and Scott entered.

“Are you feeling better?” the Ringmaster asked.

“Tell me what happened, please,” Gem said.

The Ringmaster sighed. “The Mad King has clearly grown stronger. He must have planned for a mass theft of magic last night. Douse all lights, steal the rest of our magic.” The Ringmaster worried his bottom lip and dark circles ran under his eyes.

Gem remembered her and fWhip’s first time at Circo de Fantasia, listening intently when the Ringmaster explained the circus’ purpose: to be a safe haven to those possessing magic.

“While having multiple magic wielders in the same space might not be ideal, the circus keeps us up at night, when the Mad King is the strongest,” the Ringmaster had told them.

“How does he find them?” Gem had asked. “How does he know who to steal from and who not to?”

The Ringmaster hadn’t said anything for a long moment. His eyes had gone far off, to a place Gem didn’t know, before finally responding by saying, “A type of hunting. Watching for inhuman abilities. Our witch, Shelby, casts a protective spell that follows the circus around and lasts a varying amount of time. She never knows when it fades away and, while she does try to reinforce it, the magic drains her a fair amount.”

Gem had furrowed her eyebrows, finding a rather large hole in the Ringmaster’s plan. “Then why are you placing yourselves all together? The Mad King has all of you in one place.”

“The Mad King steals powers easiest when his victim is asleep or unconscious—the magic flows freely then. In a circus, we’re up the whole night. Not only that, but he’s the most powerful at night when he can travel and manipulate the shadows. By day, we’re asleep and under Shelby’s magical protection.”

This conversation ran through Gem’s mind as she stared at the Ringmaster. Her eyes travelled over to Scott for a split second who was looking at her strangely and then to her brother who seemed to have decided that they were on good terms once again, their argument on the previous night forgotten.

“Okay, and? What was the bright light?”

“You,” Scott said, his eyes fixated on Gem. “Your candle’s flame is stronger. It doesn't flicker like it used to.”

Gem and fWhip instantly met each other’s gazes before Gem broke away to look at Scott. “Wait, what? Does that mean I unlocked a magical ability? Is that even possible?” The world spun; she felt like her tent was a ship’s cabin and she was seasick.

“Her power is light?” fWhip exclaimed, and Gem could hear hints of jealousy and awe in his voice.

The Ringmaster glanced over at fWhip and shook his head slowly. “Not just light. The sun.”

At this, Gem chuckled a little. “The sun?” she repeated. “It was nighttime when the bright light occurred. The sun had been down for hours.”

“The moon only shines because the sun’s rays reflect off of it,” the Ringmaster said.

Scott’s blue eye was frantic as he said, “you could be the key to defeating the Mad King. His original power is darkness and shadow, right?” He turned to the Ringmaster. “This could be a turning point. We wouldn’t have to worry about him stealing our powers.”

“If the Mad King dies, will I get my ability back?” fWhip said, his eyes lighting up; Gem hadn’t seen such hope on his face in weeks.

There was a slight lull in the conversation and Gem watched Scott’s yellow eye flick over to her once again.

“It’s possible,” the Ringmaster said slowly, turning to fWhip, clearly not wanting to get his hopes up too much. “But it’s also entirely possible that, once defeated, everyone’s powers die with him.”

The light in fWhip’s eyes suddenly dimmed and his mouth drew down in a frown. Gem wanted to say something to make him feel better, but what was there to say? He had recently lost his power and was now learning that his twin sister did have one when he’d previously thought otherwise. And, even if the Mad King was defeated, there was still no guarantee of getting his own ability back.

“At this point, the best we can hope for in killing the King is that no one else’s abilities are stolen,” Scott said. “We’ll have to get you training right away. You’re lucky False has been training you in the trapeze—being physically strong will help immensely. But Martyn might also be useful; he knows what it’s like to fight against the nature of fire. For you, Gem, you’re fighting against the nature of the sun.”

The Ringmaster rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If you could somehow focus a light blast similar to last night’s, aiming directly at the Mad King…that could be the end. Your light might be able to be the killing blow against his darkness.”

“This is perfect,” Scott said, and his voice sped up as he continued. “The Mad King has been able to extinguish any kind of light, fire and electricity, but with Gem’s power—he can’t take out the sun—we might actually have a chance of not running for our lives for an eternity.”

“There’s only one problem,” fWhip said blandly from the corner of the tent. Both the Ringmaster and Scott swivelled their heads to look at fWhip as he pointed to a bottle on the bedside table Gem had had Shelby create to glow for three hours after being shaken. “Gem’s afraid of the dark.”

Chapter 4

Gem truly thought she had grown out of that particular fear. When she thought about being scared of the dark, she remembered padding out to her parents bedroom until they bought her a mini nightlight and, even then, she’d keep her curtains open so the light emanating from the nearby buildings would keep the imaginary monsters at bay.

To be fair, Gem was no longer scared of monsters with horns and sharp teeth and one eye; it was the fact that she couldn’t see. She was completely vulnerable in the dark, unable to do anything about a hypothetical danger. Like a power-hungry king, for example.

When her and fWhip’s parents died and they were orphans on the street, Gem had just assumed the trauma of losing them overrode her fear of the dark.

Now, looking back, Gem just realized that, living on the streets, she was never truly in darkness. No matter how dark the alleyway was, there was always a streetlamp, or a building whose light was still on, or the moon and stars. Even if it was mostly dark, she was never in true darkness.

The next afternoon, Gem visited Shelby’s work tent where strange herbs and ingredients on tables were lined up in bottles and a handful of brewing stands were bubbling and steaming away.

“Do you think you could make a night-vision potion for me?” Gem asked, watching as Shelby ground up a pink flower. She was wearing a green apron with multiple pockets in the front, holding various tools and other ingredient bottles.

Shelby winced, brushing the pink dust into an empty glass bottle on the table in front of her. “It’s not going to be able to help you see when the Mad King comes back.”

Gem sighed—this was what the Ringmaster had told her earlier that day. “Still, it might give me some peace of mind, you know?”

With one hand, Shelby reached into her apron’s pocket for a bottle of mushrooms, with the other she flipped open a heavy book. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Her eyes ran through the words on the page as she unstoppered the bottle in her hands. “I have all the ingredients, nether wart…golden carrot—”

A lump formed in Gem’s throat. “Carrot? Like, an actual carrot?”

Shelby nodded offhandedly before realization dawned on her face. Her hands stopped moving and she placed all her attention on Gem. “Wait, you’re allergic to carrots, aren’t you?”

~~~

“Were you ever afraid of anything?” Gem asked False as they stretched below the trapeze equipment. “And did you get over your fear?” Gem didn’t think False could be afraid of anything—not when she flipped and spun around in the air without a net and her power of flight stolen from her.

False thought about this for a moment, her legs straight out in front of her, her body bent forwards so that her head was touching her knees. “I used to be afraid of cats.” She turned to look at Gem with a wry smile. “If I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eye, I’d run the other way.”

Gem’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked. “And you’re no longer afraid of them? How’d you do that?”

“It took me a long time to get over that fear,” False said, then must have noticed Gem’s pinched face. “Fears don’t go away easy. You have to work at them constantly. And, even now, sometimes a cat catches me by surprise and I find myself taking steps backwards.”

Gem flopped down on her back and sighed. “Then how am I supposed to get over my fear? The Mad King could be here tonight and I need to be there to defeat him.”

False pursed her lips and put a comforting hand on Gem’s arm. “You aren’t alone in this fight. When the Mad King comes, everyone will be there. My advice for you? Go talk to Lizzie; she might be able to help. She did for me, and not just because she has cat characteristics.”

Gem still wasn’t sure. “How? Even if fortune telling could help me, she’s not actually a real one.”

“I know, but she gives solid advice. I think she might be helpful.”

“Well, if you say so.” If False said Lizzie could help, Gem would take her word for it. Clearly something had worked if False got over her fear of cats with Lizzie, a woman who was like a cat.

Gem and False then spent the next hour flying on the trapeze, letting go and catching each other in mid-air. She could feel the wind in her hair, her stomach dropping when she let go of the bar of a split second, then the satisfaction of connecting with False’s hands. It was nice to get her mind off of something that wasn’t related to the Mad King.

~~~

On her way to Lizzie’s tent, Gem passed the Ringmaster, hurrying in the opposite direction. When Gem turned the corner and walked a couple more steps, Sausage and the Ringmaster were speaking together in low tones, head bent together. While Gem didn’t know the specifics of the Ringmaster’s power, perhaps it was teleportation? Although, she had never seen this happen before.

Deep in thought, she almost bumped into fWhip.

“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” fWhip asked. While her brother’s complexion was a little less sickly, there were still dark circles under his eyes.

Gem desperately wanted to go to Lizzie’s as soon as possible, but she couldn’t find it in herself to brush off her brother. She was so in her head about her own issues, but fWhip was also going through difficulties. “I’m heading to Lizzie’s for advice. Wanna come?”

fWhip looked just as skeptical as Gem felt, but shrugged. “I suppose. Nothing else better to do.”

As they walked shoulder-to-shoulder, Gem asked, “so, did you take up Sausage’s offer?” She felt like she knew the answer, but she hoped nonetheless.

fWhip snorted. “No.”

Gem sighed, but didn’t push further. She didn’t want to get in another fight. She needed her brother to be here with her, just like she knew fWhip needed her as well (despite thinking otherwise).

Lizzie’s tent was an elaborate deep pink and, during the nights, a fine fog emanated from it (curtesy of one of Shelby’s potions). Out front, “Mystic Mary’s Fortune Telling” was written on a sign.

Inside, there was a little table filled with strange objects, a glass ball, and a stack of cards. Lizzie herself was curled up in the back, in a nest of blankets. As soon as Gem and fWhip entered, her eyes shot open, showing off her vertical pupils.

“Oh, it’s just you two,” Lizzie said, and she unfurled herself so she could stand. She was shorter than both Gem and fWhip. “I assume you aren’t here for a reading.”

“False told me you helped her get over her fear of cats,” Gem explained as Lizzie sat down on a stool behind the table. Gem decided to take the other chair, leaving fWhip standing. “She said you might be able to give me advice about my current...issue. You see, I’m scared of the dark. I don’t think I’m going to be strong enough to handle being completely in the dark and focus a blast powerful enough to kill the King.”

Idly, Lizzie picked up the stack of tarot cards, beginning to shuffle them. Gem could see how people thought Lizzie was a legitimately skilled fortune teller. “Well, that’s easy.”

“It is?” fWhip said, and Gem turned her head slightly to see that her brother’s eyes were focussed entirely on Lizzie’s hands, moving the cards around. Yearning was clear in his gaze.

“Well,” Lizzie amended, “it’s quite difficult to get over fears quickly. There’s not exactly a way to shortcut those kinds of things.”

Gem deflated.

“But that’s not what I’m talking about,” Lizzie continued. “The Mad King is the strongest at night, right? So just don’t fight him then. Lure him out and then when it’s day—when you’re the most powerful—land the final blow.”

Chapter 5

Gem didn’t have to wait long for the Mad King to strike. In the two weeks leading up to it, her days consisted of being with False and becoming physically stronger, and being with Martyn to become mentally stronger and able to create balls of light between her hands.

“You’ve got to believe in yourself,” Martyn had told Gem, out in the back field behind the circus one afternoon. “You’re fighting against the sun; you’re taking light for yourself. Even using a miniscule amount needs willpower.”

Gem who, at that point, hadn’t been able to conjure more than foggy beams of light since that night she realized her powers was close to quitting for the day. “Why can’t this be easier? Why can’t the sun just let me take some of its light?”

“The sun ain’t exactly listening to your prayers,” Martyn had replied with, and he’d adjusted his cowboy hat on his head that he wore, even outside of his fire performance. “It’s a game of tug o’ war and you have to come out victorious.”

“Well, what did you do in the beginning to create fire and control it?” Gem had asked. “How did you even start?”

Martyn had given Gem a wry grin. “Anger. I focussed all the emotion I felt about being supplanted in my town into the palms of my hands. Fire really reacted to it; it crackled and popped so much so that I burned down a forest. But it was a start.”

Gem had frowned. “Doesn’t exactly seem very healthy.”

“Well of course it wasn’t. But it was the match strike I needed. Now I just think about the adrenaline I feel during each of my performances.”

It had taken a moment to search for anger, something to latch on to. Gem wasn’t a naturally angry person. fWhip had come to mind and the fact that all he wanted to do was wallow, but that really wasn’t fair. Gem wanted what was best for her brother and she couldn’t expect him to just get over it.

Finally, Gem had found something. The Mad King. The man who had taken so many people’s powers—probably too many to count now. Who had stolen from so many good people; who had taken from her brother. Who would continue taking until he had consumed all of it. And, if it ever got to that point, would the Mad King even be satisfied?

That had been the turning point. A great ball of light formed above her open palms.

~~~

Everyone knew distracting the Mad King until daylight would be difficult, but they all had a plan.

And so, when the circus descended into darkness, everyone was ready. All the patrons ran off once they realized it wasn’t a part of the show, afraid out of their wits. Lizzie, with her uncanny sense of who was around her, led half of the performers with powers away from the King while Scott, whose eye gave him the ability to see everyone’s flames—shrouded by darkness or not—took the other half.

Everyone else was on distraction duty.

The only exception to this rule was the Ringmaster and Sausage, who asked help from bats so they could navigate without seeing. The two of them went off on their own and Gem didn’t question it at the time, although now she was wondering if it was safe to do so.

Gem had tried to persuade the Ringmaster to have fWhip be with her; she didn’t know what she’d do with herself if something happened to him. But the Ringmaster assured her that fWhip was in good hands. Katherine’s hands to be exact.

Somewhere to Gem’s left, she could hear Oli humming a song under his breath, her anxiety about being thrust into the darkness once again lessening.

“Shhh,” Lizzie hissed, and Oli instantly stopped and Gem felt the hairs on her neck rising, her heartbeat speeding up. She gripped onto Hermes’ hand as tightly as he was holding hers.

Suddenly, there was a lot of jostling as people tripped over each other’s feet and, over the slight din of the nearby city, Lizzie said, “quickly. Turn left.”

Gem followed the group as best she could, feeling everyone around her adjust to Lizzie’s instructions. That was when she heard fWhip’s voice nearby. Gem couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying, but her body went stock still when she heard the next voice.

“You’re the little boy who I stole from last time at this wretched circus, aren’t you?” The voice was gravelly and deep.

Instantly, Gem yanked herself from Hermes’ grip and ran blindly towards the Mad King and her brother. She knew this wasn’t a part of the plan; the plan was to keep moving around the empty field and outskirts of town until the sun broke through the horizon. But the Mad King did not mention Katherine, and Gem needed to be there with fWhip if Katherine wasn’t.

Gem kept the layout of the circus in mind, forcing herself to take quiet breaths and knowing she was coming upon a turn. Slowly, she crept forward with her arms outstretched until she felt the smooth material of the side of Oli and Hermes’ clown tent.

“I see,” the Mad King said once again. “The silent treatment.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” fWhip’s voice came out hard and almost annoyed. “Haven’t you ravaged this circus enough? Aren’t you powerful enough?”

The Mad King laughed—and Gem stopped in her tracks. His laugh was terrifyingly confident, as if he already knew what would happen. That he would consume Gem’s power and he’d be able to steal people’s abilities for an eternity. “Boy, there’s never enough. There will never be enough powers to take. Nothing will ever be enough for me. Just how nothing will ever be enough to satiate the space in you that was previously filled by your powers.” There was a pause. “But I can make you a deal.”

Gem felt rooted to her spot, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of fear. It was dark, the Mad King was just over there, and he was speaking to fWhip, one-on-one. She could barely hear her own tumbling and twisting thoughts.

The Mad King continued. “I can give you any power you want, however many you want. Your old powers back, telekinesis, super strength, shapeshifting…” Another pause. “All you have to do is bring me your sister.”

Gem’s heart dropped to her feet. fWhip wouldn’t…would he? Ever since her brother’s powers were stolen, just how many times had he complained? How many times had he told her that he wanted his powers back?

“Any power I want?” fWhip’s voice was suddenly meek.

Gem’s mouth felt impossibly dry.

“Your wish is my command.”

There was a third painstakingly long pause before fWhip replied with a snort. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll get over my lack of ability, but I could never forgive myself for giving Gem up to you.”

The Mad King didn’t seem all that upset. “Plan B, I suppose. A lot less dramatic, but it’ll have to do.” And there was a snapping sound.

The darkness dropped away. One moment, Gem was surrounded by nothingness. The next, the beautiful sky, stars, and moon, and the tents of Circo de Fantasia.

Gem, who had been at the edge of the tent, suddenly came face to face with the Mad King, floating a couple of feet off the ground. He was wearing all-black armour and only his mouth was visible. It curled into a satisfied grin. “Hello Gem.”

fWhip’s head spun around and his eyes widened. “Gem!” he exclaimed, and ran towards her.

Gem came to the too-late realization that the Mad King had wanted her to overhear him. If fWhip agreed to the King’s terms, Gem would have been beside herself and therefore an easy target. And, if fWhip hadn’t, Gem would still be within distance.

Like she was right now.

The Mad King still wasn’t moving, although his smile was more than a little unnerving. “It’s time for me to snuff out your light,” he said.

“Oh no you don’t,” the Ringmaster’s voice said, coming out from the tent Gem was standing next to. And he let out an ear-piercing whistle.

Another Ringmaster came out of the tent to Gem’s right, and the other tents lining the pathway. Sausage’s llamas came bounding around a corner, Sausage himself riding one with a sort of wooden staff in his hands, a cyan gem between the curved top.

Gem rubbed her eyes as a dozen Ringmasters appeared.

The Mad King looked at them all thoughtfully. “Do you like each time I consume a Pixlriffs’ power, my time travelling ability will grow stronger—?”

Sausage raised his staff and a blue light shot directly at the Mad King’s back, immobilizing him.

The Ringmaster closest to Gem turned to her as the rest of the Ringmasters began to surround the slowly descending King. “The Staff of Sanctuary, an old relic from Sausage’s past, won’t last long against him—he’s consumed too many powers. I know we wanted to wait until day, but it’s just not possible anymore. You must defeat him now.”

Gem shuddered and glanced up before looking over at fWhip who looked just as bewildered as Gem felt. He gave her a thumbs up. Gem returned it with a strained smile.

She was grateful the King’s darkness was no longer a factor. She was surrounded by friends—multiples of friends—and her brother. She was standing within circus grounds, with its comforting light and brightly coloured tents. This was her home.

Gem took a deep breath, feeling her palms grow hot. Instead of finding anger within herself to unlock her light, she found something else. Something harder to find, but stronger.

Hope.

She could do this. Even if it was dark, Gem had a feeling she could conjure light even then. Her brother would never betray her, despite being at first doubtful. But she never should have been skeptical of him.

Gem felt her eyes flutter closed. She didn’t see the light, but she felt it as it blasted out of her hands and into the Mad King. Her eyelids flashed a bright orange.

When she re-opened them, Ringmasters were gently fading into mist. Gem’s head pounded, her hands felt raw and dry.

“What’s happening to them?” fWhip asked to no one in particular.

The Ringmaster closest to Gem replied, “going home. They’ve been stuck here for years. Every time I’ve tried to see past the moment the Mad King tries to bribe you, I couldn’t see. It fogs up. Stuck in this moment.” He smiles. “Now everything’s changed.”

“And everyone’s powers?” Gem asked, feeling a yawn coming on.

fWhip grinned and Gem suddenly felt a heavy rock appear in her pocket. “Guess,” he said.

Gem smiled back, letting out her yawn.

“Alright let’s get to bed,” fWhip said, and the rock disappeared from Gem’s pocket. He steered her shoulders in the direction of her tent. “You should definitely rest.”

And, as Gem closed her tent’s flap to collapse into bed, the sun began to rise.

#mcytblraufest23 #empires smp #roseblings #empires smp fanfic #empires smp fanfiction #geminitay #fwhip

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emergencybee · 6 months

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Fun fact about me I hate hurt no comfort (i don't like things with sad endings) but most of my fics are exactly that :/

I literally wrote this instead of sleeping, I'm only posting this cause i think someone will appreciate it even if it could be written better.

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp forever #qsmp fic #4halo #bee writes

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dreamsclock · 2 years

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parallel lines

dereality, angst, emotional distress / spoilers for c!wilbur ending lore

“what’s it like where you’re from, wil?” tommy asks him earnestly one day, and wilbur pauses.

“where i’m from?” he repeats, standing up from where he’d hunched himself over his desk. “like— before the server?”

tommy prances into the office, slouches into a chair, and nods. he looks ridiculously out of place, a grubby teenager slumped amongst presidential papers and campaign leaflets, but wilbur feels a rush of warmth flood his chest for his pseudo-brother.

“i don’t really remember,” he lies, adding his signature with a flourish and pushing the document away from him, “it was— pfft, it was a long time ago, tommy.” he snorts, seeing that dusty old desert in his mind. “a very long time ago.”

“don’t be like that,” tommy complains, “you’re always being all old and shit. what was it called? the server?”

wilbur pauses. “the server,” he repeats after the younger, blanking, “that i was brought up on.”

“the server you were born.” tommy pulls a face of disgust. “i don’t wanna think about how you were born. that’s weird. baby wilbur. you’d be a shit baby, wil.”

“how so?”

“well, you’re old.” ever restless, tommy bounces to his feet, saunters over to wilbur, who wonders at his brother’s energy and grin. “and you’re balding.”

“i am not balding, tommy.”

“are too.” quick as lightning, tommy pushes his fringe back and guffaws. “look at that forehead.”

tommy is infectious. despite his exhaustion and his tension, wilbur feels a smile push its way onto his face. “you’re so annoying today.”

“most people find me annoying at first,” tommy quips, “and then they love me and my incredible good looks and charm.”

the two of them share a look, and then burst into giggles, tommy hauling himself onto wilbur’s desk and sitting there cross-legged. for a moment, it’s just them and the blue sky above them, and the papers and stress and wars fade away, leaving just brothers and laughter.

“seriously, though,” the younger insists, when they’ve lapsed into companionable silence, “where are you from? before smp earth? what came before that?”

wilbur’s amusement disappears as quickly as it had appeared. “same place we all do,” he shrugs, “just a random server.”

“that’s not it.” tommy rolls his eyes. “you’re lying to me.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

“am not.” with a groan, wilbur stands from his seat, back cracking unpleasantly. “leave me alone for a bit, tommy. i’m busy. it’s the election next week, and i need to finish this.”

obedient as ever, tommy drops back from the desk, disappointed and grumbling, but willing to listen. “you used to be fucking great at telling stories, wil,” he accuses, “‘a random server’ is such a shit answer. you’ve fallen off.”

stories. tommy’s facing away from him, so wilbur lets his expression pull into a half smile, nostalgic, sad. he could tell hundreds of stories about his boring little life before the servers. stories about sand and sickness, about sinking, sickly, boredom. about the inability to be anything, anyone, out in the desert of his youth. about a dull ache in his mind, about a dull job, about dull people and a dull state and a dull world, so different from this vibrant, vivacious one he lives in now.

he could tell tommy that this world doesn’t belong to him. or more accurately, that he doesn’t belong to this world. that unlike his pseudo-brother, he isn’t from another server or another SMP. that he’s from the real world, cast here by a fateful storm that had swept him away. that one day he would return home and he’d leave tommy behind, because tommy can’t travel back with him, because earth is a world tommy can never see. that the life he’s built for himself here is a lie. that wilbur soot is a lie. that everything he stands for is a lie.

everything except tommy. and, when tommy turns back round at his long silence, wilbur has long since wiped the sadness from his face, and lets tiredness sink in instead.

“you’ll tell me about it one day,” tommy says, “won’t you?”

wilbur closes his eyes. “i will.”

(“utah,” tommy half-laughs, half-sobs, hair plastered to his face in the rain, “fuckin’— utah.”

it comes out strangled. tommy is old enough now that wilbur knows he understands.

he wishes, for the first time, he could go back in time and keep tommy oblivious. keep him soft.

it’s an impossibility, but grief claws at his throat anyway, because tommy is tommy and he can’t come with him and wilbur is going to hurt, living at home without him.

“utah,” wilbur says with a miserable little chuckle, “yeah.”

it’s not an apology. and that’s the worst part. it’s not an apology, and it should be. it should be ‘sorry for everything i’ve done to you. sorry for the things i never could.’ it should be ‘sorry for coming to your world and pretending we could ever be brothers.’ it should be ‘sorry this is goodbye. sorry for hurting you.’

but tommy throws his arms around him, small, diminished, and wilbur holds him tight, presses his nose to tommy’s wet hair, breathing in sharply. it doesn’t smell of anything. it’s a kick in the stomach, another reminder that tommy isn’t real.

another reminder that wilbur is.

“please don’t forget about me,” tommy mumbles, “you better come visit.”

a promise sticks like mud in wilbur’s throat. lightning strikes the ocean, the same spot he’d appeared in all those years ago.

and just for a moment, his hug tightens, before he lets go of him entirely.

“goodbye, tommy,” he tells his brother, and the boat is cold and damp but oh so real that it takes his breath away, “see you.”

and tommy is sobbing as he watches wilbur row away, but he’s smiling, a brave stubborn little thing that people have tried and failed to destroy.

the portal back home opens in the eye of the storm, a wide gaping mouth that sucks him inside, but wilbur’s last view of the server is of tommy.

his first view had been the same.

and he sees that smile. that stubborn smile.

and he knows tommy will be okay.

they both will be.)

#c!crimeboys #c!tommy #c!wilbur #> wilbur finale lore spoilers #> writing !!#> mr plot armour innit #> narrative writer

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r0semultiverse · 11 months

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It would be kind of fun to play as a restless spirit or a haunted animatronic in a Minecraft RP SMP I feel like! 👻

#wouldn’t necessarily be a huge time commitment either #like oooooh sometimes the animatronic is active sometimes it isn’t #or sometimes the ghost is around but sometimes it’s not; I could be an unpredictable supporting cast :)#just an idea though!#yes I’m watching matkiplier play the new FNAF stuff yes this inspired the idea in my head #mine #OP #Minecraft #minecraft rp #Minecraft smp

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most-tragic-character-tournament · 10 months

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To tide y’all over until the bracket is finished, here’s a list of every fandom in the tournament! Sorted by when each got its first submission.

It takes time to make the bracket cuz I gotta arrange all of these to be at least semi-equal in popularity to each other, and then make all the edited photos. I’ve been rather busy lately, but it should be up by tomorrow night :)

Minecraft Diaries

The Outsiders

God of War

Ace Attorney

Bungou Stray Dogs

Murdoch Mysteries

Yu-Gi-Oh!

The Raven Cycle

Lego Star Wars

Sanders Sides

Kamen Rider

Castle Swimmer

QSMP

The Magnus Archives

Lego Ninjago

FNAF

Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware

Pokémon

DC Comics

Critical Role

Romeo & Juliet

Macbeth

Witch Hat Atelier

Final Fantasy

One Piece

Warrior Cats

Sonic

Chicory: A Colorful Tale

Trigun Stampede

The Owl House

Ori and the Will of the Wisps

Fallout: New Vegas

MCU

Arthuriana

Tokyo Ghoul

Total Drama Island

Nimona

The Cable Guy

Paranatural

Marble Hornets

Marvel Comics

The Umbrella Academy

Life Series SMP

Fire Emblem

Julie and the Phantoms

Persona 5

Star Wars

Young Justice

Fullmetal Alchemist

Hamlet

The Shadowhunter Chronicles

The Young and the Restless

The Untamed // Mo Dao Zu Shi

Cooking Companions

Demon Slayer

John Wick

Pit People

Battleblock Theater

Star Trek

LittleBigPlanet 2

KinnPorsche

Midnight Museum

The Witcher

Teen Wolf

Beast Wars: Transformers

Lost

The Stormlight Archive

The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

The Arcana

Jujutsu Kaisen

Ultraman Nexus

Antigone

Angel

Revolutionary Girl Utena

Edward Scissorhands

The Mechanisms

91 Days

Assassination Classroom

Death Note

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Pluto

Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger

Bokura

Mabinogi

Battle for Dream Island

Leverage

Twisted Wonderland

The Iliad

Call of Duty

Tangled: The Series

Team Fortress 2

The Goes Wrong Universe

Harry Potter

Bendy and the Ink Machine

DSMP

Live A Live

Real Life

Stranger Things

Malevolent

Red Dead Redemption 2

Ib (2012)

Spies Are Forever

Madoka Magica

Magia Record

My Hero Academia

Ravenous (1999)

Lifesteal SMP S4

Outsiders SMP

Phineas and Ferb

Empires SMP

Ruse of the TMNT

Origins SMP

Frankenstein

The Otterverse RP

GenLoss

Woe.begone

Danganronpa

Witch’s Heart

Project Sekai

The Silmarillion

The Lord of the Rings

Spider-Verse

Helluva Boss

Greek Myth

Percy Jackson

Limbus Company

Rain World

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Homestuck

Markiplier

Mob Psycho 100

Lord of the Flies

Good Omens

Word of Honor

Just Roll With It

Subnautica

Witchcraft SMP

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Realm of the Underlings

Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint

Clangen

Hadestown

Rats SMP

Steven Universe

The Hunger Games

Fate Grand Order

Arcane

Everymanhybrid

Nashville

Welcome to Dreamworld

The Dolls of New Albion

Pact Web Series

Brandon Rogers

Ghost Quartet

The Dragon Prince

Steam-Powered Giraffe

Six of Crows

Torchwood

Deltarune

Bojack Horseman

Epithet Erased

Steins;Gate

Casualty

Tale of the Nine Tailed

Cookie Run

Succession

Purple Hyacinth

The Wicked + The Divine

Outer Wilds

Carnosaur

Miraculous Ladybug

Transformers Comics

Legend of Zelda

Breaking Bad

Devil May Cry

Castlevania

Dragon Age

Smallville

RWBY

Undertale

The Locked Tomb

Mystic Messenger

Black Butler

Interview With a Vampire

Death By Dying

Higurashi When They Cry

Transformers Animated

Pirates SMP

All The Bright Places

Chulip

Ride the Cyclone

Grey’s Anatomy

Empire of Exiles

Octopath Traveler 2

Hello from the Hallowoods

The Burning Sands of Ma’ssob RP

#most tragic tournament

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inaris-mage-of-storms · 1 year

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Rating: M Relationships: Jimmy/Scott Additional Tags: Empires SMP Season 2, Alternate Universe, Flower Husbands, First Love, Angst, No Happy Ending, Mild Tobacco Use, Mild Alcohol Use, Brief Nudity, Minor Character Death, No Respawn Mechanic, Not Beta Read

AKA the Farmboy AU. Long before he was the sheriff of Tumble Town, Jimmy lived on the edge of the savanna and dreamed of seeing the world someday. The world comes to him one summer in the form of a colorful traveler.

Got the first chapter (parts 1 and 2) edited and on AO3! Current estimate is five chapters for the whole thing.

#flower husbands #empires smp #esmp #esmp fanfic #empiresshipping #farmboy au #file: storm writes things

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convexicalcrow · 1 year

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2022 End Of Year Fic Meme

So this is something I've done on another blog for many years now, but the last time I did it was 2019, and then the pando hit and I didn't have the energy to compile all my fic after that. But today's snowflake challenge prompt is to celebrate your wins, so I thought I'd actually do this at last and sum up all my Hermitcraft and Empires fic that I've written over the past year (and a lil bit), and reflect on everything I've written.

I have a pile of fic from my old fandom I should probably do this with as well but I think I'll do that elsewhere and also perhaps next week bc there's like twice the fic I need to sum up and I ain't got that time tonight lmao.

If you've never seen one of these before, maaaan, these get Long and I ramble a Lot, so feel free to skip if you're not that interested in fic stats and rambles. Also there will be shippy stuff in here just as a head's up. <3

AO3 Statistics 2022: User Subscriptions: 29 Kudos: 3,184 Comment Threads: 112 Bookmarks: 429 Subscriptions: 77 Word Count: 149,459 Hits: 38,644

Stats: Ficlets under 1,000 words written: 17 Short Stories between 1,000-10,000 words written: 35 Stories over 10,000 words: 3 Ficlets on Tumblr*: 6 Total Fics: 61

*I'm only counting the ones I haven't edited and published to AO3 (yet)

Fandoms: 100 Hours of Hardcore Empires SMP Hermitcraft Kingdom Craft Life Series

Pairings: Cub/Scar 23 (can you tell when the ConVex hyperfixation set in >_>) Doc/Ren 4 The Vex/Cub 3 Ren/Cub 3 Ren/Martyn 3 Cub/Scar/Ariana Griande 2 Scar/Jimmy 2 Tango/Cub 2 Bdubs/Etho 2 Scar/Bdubs 2 Renbob/Doc 1 Grien/Joel 1 Martyn/Mumbo 1 Grimdog/Doc 1 Grian/Scar 1 Ren/Scar 1 Scar/Doc 1 The Vex/Cub/skulk 1 King Ren/The Red King 1 Ren/Bdubs 1 The Vex/Scar 1 Katherine/Cub 1 The Vex/Bdubs 1 Scar/Cub/Ren 1 Tango/Jimmy 1 Sausage/Keralis 1 Doc/Bdubs 1 Doc/Etho 1 Doc/Cub 1 Joel/Sausage 1 Cub/Jarvis 1 Joel/Lizzie 1

Friendships/Other Relationships: Cub & Scar 6 Ren & Bdubs 3 Ren & Doc 3 Cub & Iskall 2 Sausage & Pearl 2 Ren & Martyn 2 Ren & Lizzie 2 Etho & Bdubs 2 Cub & Bdubs 1 Cub & a llama 1 Imagineer Scar & HotGUy Scar 1 Cub & Ren 1 Sausage & Santa Perla 1 Sausage & Saint Bdubs of the Sun 1 Cub & Xisuma 1 Ren & Scar 1 Pearl & Scar 1 King Ren & Scar 1 The Vex & Bdubs 1 King Ren & The Red King 1 Tango & Bbubs 1 Tango & Jimmy 1 Tango & Grumbot Prime 1 Grian & Pearl 1 Ren & Tomato Yoshi 1

Average Word Count: 2527.63 words Total Word Count (2022): 149,459 (AO3) + 4727 (ficlets)= 154,186

List of Fanworks:

100 Hours of Hardcore Hunting For A Kiss (455 words)

Life Series Sacrilege and Sacrifice (6,370 words) Through The Fog Of War: Vignettes From Session Seven (1,507 words) You're the B.E.S.T. (1,058 words)

Empires SMP Black Heart (1,453 words) Charisma Level 6000 (1,658 words) Fading Into Darkness, Clinging To The Light (5,002 words) Fog (18,076 words) Hard Wood (983 words) Here Comes The Vex Again (631 words) Legacy (941 words) Moonbeams (2,961 words) Songs From The Old Country (3,589 words) Stripped Wood (876 words) The Midnight Sun (1,679 words) The Restless Dead (1,108 words) Vexed Devotion (3,356 words) Vicegrip (1,030 words) What's Yours Is Mine (462 words)

Hermitcraft #askjarvis (672 words) A Different Kind Of Magic (550 words) A Small Price To Pay (3,339 words) A Vex Never Works Alone (3,047 words) Another Sunset (3,612 words) Blood Moon Rising: The Madness of Rendog (11,863 words) creep (3,766 words) Five Times Bdubs Was Hunted Around The Crastle (500 words) Free Glass Straight To The Heart (2,337 words) Guess Who? (1,631 words) His Name Is Cubfan135 (1,850 words) HoTGuY: The Seige (2,994 words) Hunting Party (20,222 words) hurts so good (3,359 words) Icicles (2,917 words) Kongen Befaler (1,121 words) Language Barriers (894 words) mirror, mirror… (917 words) Mistress of the Dance, Lady of Joy (1,688 words) Moon Big Trauma… But With Llamas! (3,386 words) Occlusion (3,207 words) Ride The Lightning (591 words) Sacred Waters (1,900 words) sacrosanct (741 words) skulk whispers (941 words) Split/Seconds (100 words) Sway (933 words) The Burning One, who seizes what his heart desires (1,471 words) The Streets Of Scarland (1,774 words) two beds and a mattress store (622 words) Uncomfortably You, Uncomfortably Me (1,257 words) Vexcraft (2,722 words) When You Were Mine: A Collection of RenDoc Drabbles from Season Sixfinity (1,200 words)

Hermittober/Life Series Hermittober 2022 Drabble Collection (4,407 words)

Kingdomcraft SMP masquerade (2,583 words) armour love (1,150 words)

Tumblr Ficlets: Pharaoh Cub and Sphinx Scar (646 words) Evoker Cub and Allay-Turned-Vex Scar (891 words) Cub Zombie Apocalypse AU (312 words) ConVex Knight AU

part one (451 words)

part two (953 words)

part three (1474 words)

The Questions!

My best story of this year:

Through The Fog Of War: Vignettes From Session Seven. I threw all my devastation into that fic, and it turned out perfectly. I would change absolutely nothing about that fic. It was cathartic and painful and didn't dim my Ethubs grief but it did help process it.

Last Life was the first of the Life series that I'd watched live, and session seven absolutely wrecked me frfr. ;_;

My favourite story of this year:

Fog, I think. I loved the process of writing it, drafting it on tumblr as the ideas came to me and then editing it later for AO3. I've never really done that with a fic before, because I was always mostly on twitter and I never really used other journals for that kind of writing. But to have tumblr now where I can just throw ideas out and see how they work? That changed how I write so much, and Fog was the first chaptered work I'd done, and I think it came out so well. I went mad on skulk Cub for two weeks, but the fic that came out of it was cohesive, deep, and felt very satisfying by the end of it. I will forever love that fic as my favourite, I think, just because of how I could see people responding to the chapters as I posted them and getting that kind of feedback was so nice. It kept me writing and seeing how to best resolve the story in the most satisfying way.

My worst story of the year:

idk if it's worst per se, but I do think I could have done Split/Seconds a lot better than I did. I was crunched for time and that usually means I write drabbles but it could easily have been longer if I'd let it. I might have fleshed it out and done something more interesting with that moment than what felt like just rehashing what actually happened.

Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Songs of the Old Country, if only because religious world building is kind of a niche thing I think? And maybe it's not as interesting to others as it is to me. >_>

Most overrated story, in my opinion:

This is more in terms of my own inspiration and interest in it but HoTGuY: The Seige. I had a whole thing planned out for it, and life just derailed my work on that fic entirely so it now sits forgotten and I wish I'd given it the time it deserves bc it was going to be a great fic. I just got distracted and yeah.

Most fun story to write:

You're The B.E.S.T., bc who doesn't want a Team B.E.S.T. boy band AU amirite? I loved channelling all my 90s teen boy band nostalgia into that one and I adore the flow of it. It just works perfectly. I have thought about writing follow-ups but I'm not sure I could do it the justice they deserve.

Most representative of you as a writer:

Hunting Party, I think. It's long, kinky as fuck, and contains a lot of the kinky elements I love writing, as well as some new ones that I think worked really well in that setting.

That, and all the trans!Cub fic lmao. I cannot do fandom without writing trans fic I stfg. XD (fics include: masquerade, armour love, mirror mirror..., Sacred Waters)

Contains characterisation you're proudest of:

One of the things I work hard on when I write fic is getting the voices right, bc if you can nail that, you're halfway to getting the characterisation right. And for me, Fog and Occlusion are my picks for this question bc of False. She has quite a distiinctive voice, and I wasn't confident of getting it right when I was first writing her. Helpfully, at the time I was writing ch 8 of Fog, Cub was streaming some MCC practice with False (iirc) so I had that to refer to as I was writing. I don't always write when I'm watching streams but if it's a voice I want to write well, I do use streams for that for sure.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

creep for sure. First time writing predator/prey kink and I had a feeling it would work for Ren and Doc but I didn't know until I'd written it and saw how well it just worked for them both.

Story with the sexiest moment:

Mistress of the Dance, Lady of Joy. There's a moment when Ariana invites Scar to play as well and with the three of them getting involved, it just feels like such joy to me, which was the whole point of this fic.

Most sexy story:

Oh god there's so many. XD But I'll probably say Sacred Waters. I adore that fic so much. The flow of it, the structure, the drabble-length paragraphs/scenes, how it all just feels ever so slightly disorienting while also being so tender and filled with love and care. It's sexy and hot and soft and I love it so much. <3

Hardest story to write:

Through The Fog Of War: Vignettes From Session Seven. bc I didn't want to write about Bdubs and Etho, but I knew I had to, and boy did the tears flow as I wrote it.

Easiest story to write:

That Cub zombie apocalypse ficlet I posted on tumblr. Woke up with fic in my head and it went from there very easily.

Biggest disappointment:

Apart from the HotGuy fic, probably that I didn't get as much work done on the Pharaoh Cub fic I had planned to do for NaNo as I had wanted. It was set in a world I had used before in an origific novel but hadn't really done much with for many years, and I wanted to write Pharaoh Cub as an actual Pharaoh in Egypt with Scar at his side as well. I just didn't get as far along with it as I'd have liked. Ah well, there's always Camp NaNo! :D

Biggest surprise:

I wrote that fucking Grien/Joel fic I stfg. XD

Story you'd give to an editor as a writing sample:

Through The Fog Of War: Vignettes From Session Seven. I know I keep banging on about it, but I do think it's genuinely the best thing I've written in this fandom so far.

Story which has the best title:

Moon Big Trauma... But With Llamas!

Story I'd like to revise:

Split/Seconds, bc like I said above, I feel like I could have done a lot more with that idea than I did.

Story I wish I'd finished:

HoTGuY: The Seige. Just one of those ideas I ran out of steam with bc everything else happened and it got left to the side. :(

Story I didn't write but I swear I will:

Hmm. I don't have any I haven't started that I want to write at this point in time? Mostly I just have a collection of wips that I am slowly working my way through.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this last year, less, or about what you'd predicted?

Far more fic holy fuck. I felt I'd written a bit but seeing the word count up there, like, Maaaaaaan, it's been ages since I managed that much in a year. o.o

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in Jan 2021?

I mean, Hermitcraft and Empires fic tbh. I was in a totally different fandom in Jan 2021.

Did you take any writing risks this last year?

*gestures at the above answer* It's always a risk starting to write for a new fandom, especially as someone who's so very, very used to tiny fandoms. This is a much, much bigger fandom space and figuring out how to navigate it and find people I might gel with has been fun and a little intimidating tbh.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?

Not really? I don't do well setting goals for fic. I just write and see what happens.

#end of year fic meme #snowflake challenge 2023 #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #empires smp #empires shipping #fanfic #convex #allll the pairings #but mostly convex #lmao #this is a bit meta #but i wanted to look back at my fics #and celebrate all the fics i've written this past year #and yeah this is only one (and a bit) year of fic writing #i have been a busy boi #o.o

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