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#bdubs is up in arms about something
boonbeenblade · 6 months
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"You have to admit it's starting to sound a bit...weird."
Rendog bristled slightly, his ears flicking back. "Weird? In what way, dude? Like, what's weird about having a little motivation to do better the next week?"
"I dunno, man," GeminiTay returned, shaking her head and staring at the half-formed metal shape. "This is the second time this season you want to be locked in a cage with all of us staring at you in shame. And the first time was also your idea!"
The diamond glasses glinted in the soul-light, as if hearkening back to the King Ren era, and its most undignified end for him. A one-tile cage, with thin enough bars that fragments of splattered tomato had nearly covered him head to toe by the end of it. Deserved, for all that the monarchy had messed with the economy.
A cough, and he cleared his throat. "Your point?" Gem didn't hesitate. "It's starting to sound like you've got a Thing for it. Some kind of humiliation Thing." "A-" Ren flushed, dropping the piece of chain he'd been working with. "It's not a Thing! Really, Gem, you-" "You're the one who suggested the Cage of Shame," she interrupted, "and volunteered to build it, AND you said you wanted to be in it first! It sounds like a Thing!" "Okay, then who would you put in there first?" Ren crossed his arms, waiting for her to answer-
"Bdubs."  And Ren jumped, glasses almost slipping off his face as he turned behind himself. "Etho! Geez, I didn't even hear you come up." A shrug from Etho, hands stuffed in his pockets. "I've been here, man, dunno what to tell you. But yeah, if not you, Bdubs goes in the cage this week." "Bdubs?" Gem looked perplexed. "Didn't he go medium and make it to level 2 on his very first run?" "Yeah, but he wasn't supposed to go there. He didn't even read his compass to figure out what floor it was on, he just wanted to go see his ship. Which he didn't even do."
Rendog blinked. "Hmm. You do have a point, dude, but I still don't think-" "He also brought his wings in. Twice. And has a singular talent for getting all the Ravagers together and getting pincered between them." "He's done his first ten runs, yeah? How many times has he won?" Etho peered over Rendog's shoulder, staring into the distant Bdubs-faced cubby. "I see...two golden teeth in there. So twice." A long moment of silence. Ren looked at the cage. "...okay, maybe he did worse overall, but I still think I had the single worst run-"
Gem snickered. "I was right! You ARE looking for any excuse to be in there!" "Am not!" "Are too!" Ren looked at Etho, who shrugged again most unhelpfully. "Hey, man, if the cage is what works for you..."
Throwing up his hands, Rendog pushed away from the both of them. "It's not a Thing! You two are- really- I have to go get more iron!" He yanked his elytra on, fumbled with a rocket, and sped out the entrance before either could reply.
Etho and Gem watch him fly away, nearly banging his head on the Nether Portal before going through it. She laughed again. "That Rendog is something else. Guess it's up to Tango who ends up in the Cage, huh?" "Nah," Etho countered, "it'll be Ren. That Frost Walker thing was so bad it affected other runs after cuz of the ice it left behind." "Then why did you say Bdubs?" "Cuz if Ren agreed, and Bdubs went in the cage, we'd get to throw things at him." Gem didn't even need to see the grin under the mask. "Plus it was funny." Gem shook her head. "You are unbelievable."
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Based on this post of mine
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silverskye13 · 5 months
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They're scratching away in the book, quill pen jittering excitedly, a gleeful dance in the candle and starlight. It would honestly be endearing, maybe even cozy, if it weren't for how dissonant from the writ the motion was. Or, well, should be. That's the reason why the second one is here, actually, standing with their arms crossed in annoyance, watching. Watching. Watching as the first kicks their feet in the air like a smitten school child and hums a pleasant tune and writes. Scratching words, scratching secrets, scratching--
Oh, to heck with it anyway.
The second one clears their throat, loudly and obnoxiously. The first startles, then looks over their shoulder. Even with their face obscured by the hood, the beaming joy is so palpable it puts an extra sparkle in the stars.
"Oh! Hello! Come to join me?"
The second one scowls.
"There's some good suggestions from the Watchers today," the first one hums, resuming their kicking and writing. "Very clever those watchers, and so many of them! Quite the devious bunch."
"Right, very devious."
"And creative," the first one adds, beaming again, "I can't wait to see with those little beings on the server will do with some of these. Especially with the two red ones now!"
"Yeah, about that," the second one mutters. "I-- you know, I did have a question."
"Fire away!"
"I just wanted to make sure we were, you know, playing the same game?"
"Of course we're playing the same game!" The first one chuckles. "I love the secrets you've written, by the way."
"Yeah, see, that's just it," the second one says, crossing their arms. "You know I'm fine with you reading my books -- spelling errors and all that -- but, it feels like, and correct me if I'm wrong, but it feels like you're not playing the same game I am."
"Oh?"
"Yeah so, the secrets, this is a Life series yeah? It's supposed to be a little bloody, a little cruel?"
"Oh it is! It is! Did you see the one Impulse got? No killing allowed! On a server with so many mobs, that's terrifying!"
"Right, no, I get that. But. The one you gave Pearl."
"The butler?"
"Yeah, that one. You don't think it... Undermines the no killing thing, giving Impulse one of the strongest fighters on the server as his butler?"
There is a noticeable pause where the first one's quill stops scratching. When the silence stretches so long it almost gets awkward, they finally say, "Nnnnnnnnnooooo. N... Nooo. No. Definitely not."
"Definitely not?"
"Definitely not."
"Alright. How about uhm, how about giving BDubs the task to kill the ender dragon?"
"That was plenty evil! Hard task that."
"Right, and you let Impulse, the one who can't kill anything, go with him to help complete that task, right?" There is another noticeable silence from the first one, so the second one continues. "You don't think setting up a guy who MUST kill something with a guy who CAN'T kill something might, you know, help the Must guy reach his goal at all?"
The first one clears their throat uncomfortably.
"Yeah, I really don't think we're playing the same game."
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tunastime · 5 months
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A Gear of the Heart, Turning
so I'm back on an ethubs kick after so very long of not writing them (spacer really changes a man), and decided to take a quick peek back into the DBHC au by @shepscapades beloved. thanks for making me insane! ahhaha <33 etho... anyways enjoy them! <3
(2847 words) (check out DBHC here!)
When Etho comes back from exploring, Bdubs is lying in the grass.
It’s a crisp, cold, clear day. The sun is bright blue, bright enough to stare into and imagine what the burning feeling could be, the cold brightness, the way the sun carries no warmth but a fraction of what it could in the summer. Etho knows exactly what time of year it is, he’s never stopped keeping track, he’s never paused counting the days in his own personal, mental calendar. Fall. Getting colder every day. Nights growing in length, days getting shorter and shorter. In the corner of his eye, if he were to focus on it, he could see the date. For now, though, the sides of his vision held other data—temperature, his own lives, a list of players, his personal chances of success. He’s not here to cause problems, that’s not his job. He’s got another objective, something self-made. Survive. He’s supposed to be surviving. He is surviving, in fact.
If Etho could breathe, he would’ve taken in a lungful of that sharp, cold air, would know the way it hit the back of his throat. Instead, he feels the sun, and the air, and knows them in absolutes, and picks his way around the base and over to Bdubs in the grass. He’s not asleep yet—his heart beats a steady drum, calm and even. Etho notes the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way he sees his eyebrows twitch when Etho stands in the patch of sun he rests in. He pillows his head on his coat, his arms spread out. His eyes don’t open, but his hand reaches out, smacking the side of Etho’s ankle.
“Etho,” Bdubs says tiredly. 
“How did you know it was me?” Etho asks, a note of curiosity entering his tone. He tilts his head, a bit unnecessarily. He knows Bdubs can’t see. It just feels right. He’s been doing a lot of that, lately—doing things because they feel right, rather than because he has to. That’s human, isn’t it?
“Who else is gonna come stormin’ into our base and stand in front of me?” Bdubs says. Finally, he cracks open an eye, squinting up at Etho, brows furrowed. His hand messes with the lace of Etho’s boot, twisting it in his fingers. Etho notes it down—he doesn’t want to trip.
“I was quiet as a mouse, Bdubs!” Etho says. He smiles—just enough for it to be seen in his eyes. Bdubs can’t see behind the black mask on his face. 
Bdubs snorts. After a moment, he shuts his eyes again. His hand falls still, over his chest. He sighs out a profound thing, face softening as he relaxes again.
“Sure you were, Etho,” he says. Etho hums a little. He likes the sound of Bdubs’ tone when he says that—something about it feels so much softer than normal. Maybe unintentionally tired. Maybe he was asleep before Etho got here. “Get outta my sun, will you?”
Step out of the sun, Etho thinks. It lingers for a moment. Will you? The added request. He considers it for a moment longer before he does. He rounds around Bdubs’ head, drops down to occupy the space right at his right shoulder. The sun shines on both of them.
Etho takes a moment to shrug off the warm coat around him. It ends up on the grass beside him and so does his mask and he leans back on his hands. He soaks in the sun, wondering what that warmth could feel like if it were just a bit stronger, if the bite of cold around them weren’t so prevalent. He wonders how much Bdubs feels of both, if it’s more than him, if it’s less. Bdubs heart stays steady, his breathing even. He still isn’t sleeping.
“That better?” Etho asks, lowering his voice. Bdubs makes a noise, half-startled. Etho looks down at him, watching the way his face changes ever so as he recognizes Etho’s question. He gets the urge, just for a moment, to reach out, to run his hand through Bdubs’ hair, despite how greasy it must be at this point. He wonders if it would tangle. He wonders if it feels any certain way. 
“That’s much better,” Bdubs sighs. “Thank you, Etho.”
“Mhm.”
There’s a beat of quiet where they sit together. Etho’s hand sits behind Bdubs’ head. He considers that urge with full merit, listening to Bdubs sigh again, comfortable and content even in the midst of a death game. To be fair, Etho knows he isn’t. This is just a facade for a brief moment—or perhaps it’s Etho himself making him this calm. He can’t tell. Part of him hopes it’s the latter, rather than the former.
Bdubs tilts his head back, craning his neck to get a look at Etho behind him. He smiles a bit, furrowing his eyebrows questioningly. Etho tilts his head again, that questioning gesture, finally letting his hand rest at the crown of Bdubs’ head. Bdubs smile only grows, just a bit, just the smallest fraction. Etho doesn’t move his hand—he just rests it there. Just for a moment. 
“What’re you doin’?” Bdubs asks.
“Sitting here,” Etho says plainly. “Is that a problem?”
“You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable.”
“I am,” Etho says. He hums a little, to add to the effect. “You look comfortable yourself.”
“Oh,” Bdubs says, shutting his eyes. “Very much so.”
Etho hums again. He lets his thumb drag over the top of Bdubs’ head, muzzing up his hair, allowing just a moment of self indulgence. Bdubs doesn’t stop him. It’s nice. 
Bdubs watches him with a soft, partially confused, partially content look. After a moment, he shuts his eyes, leans his head back down so that Etho’s hand cups the top of his head. He sighs out and clambors up. Etho’s hand falls away after that, and something resembling a pang of longing makes his thirium pump stutter. 
Bdubs turns toward him, shifting forward until their knees meet. He blocks part of the sun over Etho, to which Etho nearly makes a comment about it, but it gets lost somewhere as Bdubs squints at him. Late afternoon, Etho thinks. The sun wasn’t high enough in the sky to last much longer. He’ll have to haul himself up and start a fire, soon enough, but Bdubs pins him with that look and Etho can’t move. Bdubs hasn’t even given him a request. It feels self-inflicted. 
“You’re staring,” Etho says, a bit obviously.
“You were looking at me funny,” Bdubs says. His mouth curves into a frown. Etho hopes it doesn’t look like he’s watching. Instead, Etho laughs.
“I wasn’t,” he says. Bdubs snorts, shaking his head. He reaches out, patting Etho’s unmarred cheek. The impression his hand leaves is warm—warm enough to almost be hot. Etho’s brain pings the sensation, the impression, the linger of touch, records, stores, repeats. If he had something to swallow he’s sure he would've done it, like he’s seen Bdubs do. 
Instead, he raises his eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything, and Bdubs laughs, and Etho doesn’t think another sound could be that good. Bdubs pulls himself up after that, pushing himself forward on his hands and knees, wincing at he twists to stretch, and sighs.
“Tango’ll be back soon to check up on us,” he says. “You wanna get started on a fire?”
Etho looks up at him, nodding slowly. He’s still lingering on that remnant of a touch, the weight of it all. He agrees to what Bdubs says regardless, and as Bdubs nods his thanks and walks away, still complaining about the ache in his back, Etho scoops himself off the ground. Above him, the sun has started to sink in the sky, and the shadows grow.
Etho makes a fire.
Tango comes and goes. He’s not much for sleep, which is typical for him as of late. He laughs as he talks to the two of them, as they bounce around stories about the day passed. Nothing happened—not really, nothing of note. It was slow, full of collection, of waiting, of planning. Tango talks of resource gathering as Bdubs drinks soup from a wooden bowl. It’s a nice slice of quiet, and Etho watches the expression on Tango’s face with a careful contemplation. His red eyes flick to Etho when he talks about their team, and Etho feels that bit of warmth, sharing that eye. Everywhere he goes, he carries a bit of Tango with him. Their odds look better with him here, but he can’t deny the sliver of human error that chips away at that success rate. He doesn’t know how much longer Tango’ll stick around. Surely, he can see it too.
The fire is still going when Tango picks himself up and dusts his pants off and says he’ll be back later. Etho believes him, reaches out to pat his shoulder as he stands with him. Tango jostles, smiles like he means that, too. Etho watches him go before he drops down beside Bdubs again. Bdubs stares into the flames, eyes far away, expression soft. Etho moves to sit next to him, their shoulders almost brushing. It’s Bdubs that closes the gap, pressing to his side, cheek against his shoulder. Etho stays still, stiffening, pretending not to care when Bdubs takes his hand. He can feel the uptick of stress as he sits still, feeling his pump thump in his chest.
Bdubs runs his thumb over the back of his hand, over the valleys of his knuckles. He traces them out with the pad of his finger, and the spark of sensation travels up Etho’s arm, like it could tickle the back of his neck, raise the hair there. It registers, again and again, dull and present but not unpleasant. He leans back into Bdubs. Bdubs laughs a little, just a huff of air.
“You better not be sleepin’ on me, Etho,” Bdubs says, the undertone of sleep coming to his voice. Etho makes a noise of disagreement.
“Never, Bdubs!”
“Mm,” Bdubs sighs. “Good.”
Bdubs lets go after a moment, peeling away from him for just a beat, before they’re sitting side by side again, Bdubs still pressed as close as he can be to his shoulder. Etho notes the way Bdubs shivers, imperceptible. Etho’s the warmest thing besides the fire, here, all moving mechanical parts and expelling heat to keep cool. Not as much as Tango might, but enough to matter. Enough to be a little bit warmer than Bdubs, right now.
Bdubs sighs again, shutting his eyes. Facing Etho, now, Etho can watch his expression change as he starts to warm up, softening, sinking. Bdubs doesn’t open his eyes for a long moment, but his hand comes up, his right hand, left hand replacing the one holding Etho’s wrist hostage. He reaches up to cup Etho’s face in his palm. His warm hand slides up to cradle the scarred side of Etho’s face, and Etho can’t help the immediate reaction of simulated skin fading to white, sliding away where Bdubs’ warm, calloused hand makes contact. Bdubs runs his thumb over a particular crack near his jaw, just a simple, slow motion. Etho wishes he could sigh. It would be the proper response. More than just leaning into the touch and shutting his eyes, more than not knowing why it was nice, and just knowing that it was. It sends sensation after sensation after sensation, the tingling feeling running over his skin and up his cheek and neck. Does Bdubs know? Can he see what it’s doing? Surely he can’t hear the stutter, the way his pump works faster, any of that. If he were to open his eyes, would Bdubs be looking at him? What would that expression look like?
He opens his eyes anyway. He lets them slide open, ignoring the very human response to shut them again, to soak in the touch, the feeling of being held. The feeling he was realizing he would like if he could tie the two together. Bdubs is looking at him, but his expression is soft, almost concerned. Hesitant, maybe. He pauses the drag of his thumb over Etho’s cheek as Etho meets his eye, even as Etho’s expression is low-lidded and unfocused.
“‘S that nice?” Bdubs asks softly, voice going hoarse as it hits the low register. 
Etho blinks, slow. The edges of his vision fuzz out, like his optical unit is failing. He opens his mouth, realizing he’s failed to preemptively form a sentence. He makes a sound instead, then tries again, stuttering.
“I don’t know.”
Bdubs frowns a little. Etho leans hard into his palm. Not like that. He doesn’t mean it like that.
“It’s nice, but I don’t know what nice means,” Etho manages. He’s not making any sense. “You don’t have to stop.”
Bdubs’ frown fades, turning soft, warm, into a smile. He laughs a little, a sound Etho registers as a laugh. Good enough to be a laugh. 
“I hear you, sweetheart,” Bdubs says gently.
Etho smiles, laughs a little. As much as he’s learned to mimic, so far, something that’s started to morph into his own little sound. 
“You getting soft on me, Bdubs?” he asks. He can’t help it—the amused tease comes too natural to kick. He feels Bdubs pinch his cheek and recoils, face scrunching.
“I am not,” Bdubs barks. His voice is flooded with amusement though, and Etho laughs with him. He can’t help it. Bdubs laughs, and he does too, and whatever thing he’s experiencing feels incredibly fond and sweet and he hopes he’ll soon be able to actually pin it to something. What was all that? Who was that, squeezing itself into Bdubs’ body, to touch Etho’s face in a way that he’d never really done before? To admire? Was he admiring? Looking at him? Memorizing like Etho was? Etho watches Bdubs turn away, searching for something to snuff the fire. He pretends not to notice the flush on Bdubs’ cheeks.
Bdubs is such an odd person. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get a proper grasp of human emotion. Maybe that’s the whole point.
Bdubs snuffs the fire. When he does, he turns to Etho. The mask finds Etho’s face again, and Etho registers the falter in Bdubs’ face when he looks at him.
“Gotta protect that face of yours, don’t’cha?” Bdubs says, swallowing down something. Maybe there’s a hint of emotion Etho is missing. He can’t really tell. His vision sharpens back into clarity as Etho rises to a stand. The sky is just starting to get dark, the air cold, and Bdubs looks over to the wooden structure they’re calling home—more than just the fort. A warmer space than just the fort.
“You know it,” Etho says playfully. That alone cracks the facade of Bdubs’ discomfort. He smiles, shaking his head, rolling his eyes in the good-natured way that Etho always recognized as good-natured and not malicious. 
“You comin’ to bed?” Bdubs asks. He jerks his head over to the wooden structure, body halfway turned to it. He doesn’t say anything else, lingering on Etho’s unsaid answer. Etho shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets as his shoulders rise. 
“Maybe. Probably not tonight.”
“Mm,” Bdubs says. “Right. Forget you don’t need to sleep half the time.” Then he laughs, and at the last second, adds:
“You weirdo.”
Etho barks out a laugh—something wholly his own, surprised, startled by Bdubs’ comment. He watches Bdubs turn away from him, still chuckling, still smiling to himself. After a beat, he calls back to him, and Bdubs turns. Etho shrugs off his coat, holding it out to him with one hand, the other still in the pocket of his pants. Bdubs tilts his head, frowning a little.
“You’re not gonna get cold?” he asks. Etho shakes his head.
“I’ll be alright,” he says, smiling. It feels nice to smile. It feels nice that it meets his eyes.
“Okay, Etho,” Bdubs says, taking the coat. He pauses for a moment, draping it over his arm. It feels good. Maybe that’s what Bdubs means by things feeling nice. Feeling. Maybe. “Have a good night, alright?”
“I’ll try, Bdubs,” Etho says, letting his tone be as affectionate as is appropriate. Bdubs nods his head. That smile doesn’t leave his face for as long as Etho can see him.
Bdubs wanders off to their room, quiet. Etho finds that place in the grass again. He’ll check in on him in a bit, spend the rest of the night planning, working, and spend some time resting when he knows he’s able to tomorrow. For now, though, Etho drops himself into the soft grass still present around the base, in the snow, feeling it cold but not yet damp, waning from the evening light. Feeling. Feeling. Feeling. Maybe he can get used to feeling. Maybe he’ll understand feeling on his own. He looks up, into the sky, and tries to see if there are any stars he recognizes.
They wink their way in from the gold-blue sky, and Etho watches. 
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hopepetal · 5 months
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Decided to do a bit of writing for the first session of secret life! Very slight spoilers for Grian's first episode below! (I took a lot of creative liberty)
--
There’s something achingly familiar about the sand underneath their feet. The way it shifts as they make their way through the desert– not their desert, but that’s alright– in search of resources and food. The sun beats down on them from above, and Grian has to give Scar a warning look. Don’t even think about taking your shirt off.
Scar grins back at him, and if they had been allies, he would’ve ignored that warning look to playfully annoy Grian as he had done many a time back in their desert. But this is not their desert, and they are not allies. There is no blood-forged loyalty between them, no soulbond tying their lives together. 
And yet, they had returned to the sand together, laughing softly at the awkward jokes that each other made. Drawn together by no one’s will outside of their own, Grian and Scar walk together under the desert sun like they are allies (they are not).
Grian’s feathers rustle as he notices a small grouping of cacti, hopping off of the camel with his stone axe in hand. His back aches slightly from the mildly uncomfortable ride– he still liked llamas more. This, he tells Scar as he begins to carefully chop the cacti and scoop them into his inventory. 
“I dunno!” he replies with a shrug, when Scar asks him why he doesn’t like camels as much. “Llamas are just more comfortable. And camels are really slow, I don’t know if you noticed that.”
Scar chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “This poor camel is workin’ his butt off to transport you back and forth, and look at how you treat him! Hatin’ on him, calling him names! You’re not too kind to your workers, G. Shame on you! Shame on you, I say.”
Grian rolls his eyes as he moves to collect the next cactus. “You’re so dramatic, Scar. I never said I hated camels.” The cactus falls, and Grian pushes it into his inventory with a little less care for the needles that prick his skin. “I just like llamas more. More comfortable on the rear, y’know?” 
Scar scoffs playfully, tutting softly in disappointment. “I never thought you’d discriminate based on butt comfortatibilital–” He cuts himself off with a slight frown– “comforta– comfortability!” His lopsided grin returns to his face as he moves over to the camel and reaches up to gently pet its rough fur. “Don’t listen to the meanie, Mr…!” He pauses, looking over at Grian. “Any name ideas?” he asks, and Grian lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Scar!” Grian pauses in his cactus gathering and turns to face the other man, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t start naming every animal you see. It’s the life series, for goodness sakes. You know it’s either going to die or be stolen, and what are you going to do when you retaliate and then no one wants to ally with you?”
Scar pulls his lips together into a frown, pouting. “That’s just not gonna happen! Just you wait, G– I’ll be so useful and kind to everyone on the server that they’re all gonna be my allies! Yes sir, Scar Goodtimes is going to be a friend to all this season!”
Grian laughs. “Can’t wait to see how that one turns out,” he teases. “You have a bit of a history of either going off alone, or only having one friend.”
Scar gasps in mock surprise, though the hurt that shines so briefly in his eyes is real. “Grian! You can’t just say that to a man! And you know that is not true! I had Cleo and Bdubs last season! We were family!”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, so was boatem, and look at how we ended up.” He folds his wings behind his back as he turns back to the cacti, pulling his axe out once more as he begins to chop down the desert plants. He didn’t really even know why he wanted the cacti so bad– it wasn’t as if they were actually all that useful, other than some dye. 
It was at this point that Scar realizes just what Grian was doing, and stumbles forward with a yelp. “Hey! Hey there! I’m not letting you get the monopoly, mister!” He struggles to pull out his axe before swiftly chopping into the base of the cactus. “I’ve learned better by now!” he crows, scooping the fallen plant into his hands. And for a moment, he pauses, and silence falls over the two of them.
Scar seems to consider something, green eyes darkening from memories. He cups the small piece of cactus in his hands, careful to not let the needles prick into his skin. He looks up at Grian, down, then back up again. The silence continues to ring. 
Grian swallows, and the anticipation (fear? he thinks it might be fear) building in his chest makes him think that the stakes of this moment should be higher. That the number of lives should be lower. It makes him think that there should be a ring of cacti around the two of them, and that he should be gazing into red eyes.
But the eyes he meets are lime green. Wrong, but not red. The only cacti around are in Grian’s inventory and Scar’s hands. And the sand that shifts slightly beneath their feet is not pitted with explosions nor stained with blood. Grian realizes his feathers had begun to puff out and forces himself to calm down. 
It’s fine. He’s fine. 
Scar’s expression tells Grian he’s thinking the same thing. The silence crescendos into a deafening roar. 
Scar steps forward, and carefully places the cactus down on the sand in front of Grian. “I’ll let you have the monopoly,” he murmurs, and Grian chokes out a laugh as he picks up the cactus and puts that into his inventory as well. Scar gives him a grin and breathes out his next question. “Can we still be friends?”
Grian slowly blinks, and looks up at Scar. He takes a deep breath. Then another. The silence does not ring; it screams. 
Scar glances up and sees Grian there, staring at the cactus, and frowns. “Hey, G? You good?”
Grian blinks back tears, and nods. “...yeah. Yeah, I’m good. We can still be friends.” 
Friends. Not allies. Neither were quite ready to be the latter just yet. But it was a start. They left that desert– not their desert, they’d never quite leave that– alive and feeling the light sting of cactus needles pricking into their skin.
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Scar saw the poll turn green. He cheered to himself and smirked.
“About time someone acknowledged my sexiness,” Scar said to himself. He scrolled back up to the bracket, looking for his next competitor. He read the name and paused.
Technoblade.
He swallowed a large mouthful of air. Behind him, he heard the sick sound of steel scraping its scabbard.
---
“Doc, my brother from another mama!” Ren shouted. He leaned over the edge of the Perimeter, looking for his friend. “Did’ja see the bracket? We’re up against each other!” He heard nothing.
“Doc?” Ren shouted slightly louder.
“I heard, Ren,” Doc said. Ren turned around slowly, finding Doc standing over him in his ripped lab coat, taut muscles exposed to the elements that surrounded him. “And I’m sorry that your time in the bracket has to end this way.”
---
“Oi, Pearl!” Cleo said, landing next to their fellow hermit.
“Hiya, Cleo!” Pearl said. “Is this about the bracket?”
"Yep,” Cleo said. “I just wanted to stop by and say, no hard feelings.”
“Why would there be hard feelings?” Pearl asked.
“Well, no one’s heard from Zloy since I beat him into a pulp,” Cleo said. “I just wanted to make sure you knew there’s no shame in losing.”
“What makes you think you’re gonna win?”
Cleo arched her eyebrows menacingly and glared at Pearl.
“No, Pearl, I don’t think I’m going to win,” they said. “I know.”
---
“Hi Joel!” BDubs shouted. His head had just shot up out of a bush on Joel’s island.
“Good lore, BDubs!” Joel shouted, quickly moving his foot out of the way. “How did you even get here?”
“The power of my sexy prowesses!” BDubs said enthusiastically. He disentangled himself from the foliage and drew himself up to full height, which was not particularly tall. “You know what they’re saying about me on the Tumbles, right?”
“I think they actually think I’m sexier,” Joel said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” BDubs said, attempting to throw his arm over Joel’s shoulder. Unfortunately, he couldn’t reach, so he awkwardly backed away with an outstretched arm.
“I am, as you know, a very tall and sexy god of lore,” Joel said. “I think that beats ‘weird mossy dwarf’ any day.”
---
Scott cursed as he slipped on a rock. He had been crawling through the wilderness for several hours, searching for his competitor, but he had finally come close. He checked his map one more time, seeing how far he had come. Looking up, he saw a small wooden cabin. He approached it and knocked on the door.
Etho opened it, allowing savory smoke to waft into Scott’s nose.
“What’s up?” Etho asked.
“I just came to tell you…” Scott said nervously, “we’re up against each other in the bracket...”
“Oh, that’s fun!” Etho said.
“And that I’m going to tell my fans that if they don’t vote for me they’re homophobic,” Scott said.
Scott couldn’t see it, but deep down he knew that Etho was frowning disapprovingly.
---
Grian walked into Mumbo’s base, following some weird, high-pitched noise from his own base.
“MumboJumbo!” a voice was singing. “I am hotter!”
"Mumbo?” Grian whispered hopefully. Following the sound, he walked deeper, approaching the slight opening in the walls of Mumbo’s vault. The noise grew, and Grian’s hopes grew with it.
Those hopes deflated when he entered and saw Slimecicle dropping slimeballs on every surface.
“MumboJumbo!” the autotuned voice continued. “Come and fight me!”
Grian sighed heavily, turned, and left.
---
Wilbur was walking towards his front door when he noticed Joe Hills sitting on his porch.
“Oh,” Wilbur said. “You’re Joe, right?”
"Yes I am!” Joe said.
“Is this about the bracket?” Wilbur asked.
“Oh, that silly thing?” Joe said. “No, not in the slightest! I just wanted to say howdy!”
“Do you want to come in or something?” Wilbur offered. “I have soup if you want it. And I’ve been told I make some pretty good burgers.”
“No, that’s fine,” Joe said. “I’m good just sitting right here.”
“OK, then,” Wilbur said, opening the door. He walked inside and looked around. On a hunch, he checked upstairs. Nothing was amiss. He came back down to find Joe sitting exactly where he had left him.
“Are you going to… move or something?” Wilbur asked.
“No, I think I’ll sit right here for the next…” he checked his phone. “22 hours and 57 minutes.”
---
Grian returned to his cave to find Quackity lounging on a dark oak stair in front of the portal.
“Hiya!” Quackity said.
"Oh no,” Grian said nervously. “What do you want?”
“I thought I’d skip ahead a bit and try to cut a deal,” he said. “You see, I know I can’t win against you. You’ve got way too many stans.”
“Look, if this is about the bracket, I don’t really care-”
“Look, Grian. I have an offer.” Quackity stood up and walked towards the hermit. “Let’s pool our votes and form a ticket together. We can be co-sexymen!”
“No no no no no,” Grian said. “I’ve heard this story before.”
“But I have to beat Wilbur!” Quackity said. “Come on, man. What the fu-”
“Nope!” Grian interjected, shoving Quackity back through the Rift.
Behind him, Grumbot lit up. He whirred briefly, and then spat out a message.
WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?
“This is a family-friendly server, Grumbot,” Grian said.
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salemoleander · 1 year
Text
Joel is lounging around on Potato Pier, evening darkening to purple as Jimmy and Grian argue about something stupid in the background. He dips a hand in and out of the water elevator, in and out, and again; and after every splash he's seeing the same numbers.
"Time's stopped," Joel says absently. The lulling noise of the background conversation grinds to a halt.
"Sorry, what?" Jimmy asks.
"I said, the blimming-" Joel realizes what he's saying as he says it, snapped from dreamy to alert in a moment. Grian's head whips up.
Jimmy looks down at his own arm. "The time's stopped. The time has stopped? Grian?"
Already reaching for his comm, Grian says with a forcedly casual tone, "No it hasn't."
Then he blanches, eyes flicking over the screen.
"WHAT."
Joel snorts and looks out over the map. No one is noticeably freaking out yet- the only group he can see out and about this late in the day is the Clockers, busy fixing up the cliff face on their side of the No-Man's-Land with Pearl and BigB. He watches as Bdubs falls in the chicken pit for the umpteenth time. Joel snickers.
He looks up, and catches sight of Grian's expression. He stops snickering.
--------------------
"What do you MEAN," Cleo yells, "that the clocks have stopped?" One of their arms is looped firmly around Scar's shoulders, which seems prudent given his tendency to wander off and either explode or kill whoever he bumps into. He still looks slightly singed from earlier, giving an overall impression of a puppy that cannot be left alone with electric cords.
Slumped against a rough stone wall reloading a crossbow, Joel scoffs. "What do you bloody well think it means?"
"HEY," Bdubs exclaims, "Don't talk to-" Aaand he's in the horse pit.
"It's fine Bdubs." Cleo rolls her eyes. "My fault. What I meant to ask is, why are you-" she points to Grian, who squawks, "-telling us about it? Why aren't you just fixing it?"
"Well he can't, can he?" Jimmy pipes up from his seat at the dining table. "Else he would. He's in here with us, though."
Cleo doesn't stop staring at Grian, and boy is Joel glad he's not Grian right now. Both because being himself is obviously the best option always, and because an angry Cleo is a very scary Cleo.
Reluctantly, slowly, Grian nods. "I can't fix it."
No one says anything.
The dripping from the ceiling to the floor makes Joel think someone really ought to fix up the roof. They'll have the time for it, he reckons. Then Joel remembers that the Bad Boys had, in fact, bombed the clocktower not an hour before, and decides now is really not the time to mention it.
Finally: "I really can't. It's not-" Grian sighs. "I set this thing up. It can run just fine on autopilot, pretty much. If I were on the outside as an admin-" he grimaces, "...like I should be, it wouldn't be an issue. But it's like the pilot is locked inside the bathroom while the plane-" Grian stops talking.
"Crashes? While it crashes." Cleo sounds displeased. Joel starts drafting an obituary. Bdubs has clambered up from the horse pit by now and is sitting on the edge of it, nervously messing with a janky old pocket watch.
"I would really prefer not to be stuck in an airplane bathroom forever," Scar says forlornly.
"Oh for goodness' sake," Joel says. "There has to be someone on this server who can fix this. Grian can't be the first idiot who's ever done something this stupid."
"I'll take that bet," Bdubs mutters darkly. Cleo shoots him a look, and he raises both hands and scoots forward to disappear down into the horse pit again.
Cleo pinches the bridge of their nose. "Alright, let's go find out if someone else on this server has already been a bigger idiot than Grian."
(Part 1)
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hermitscratch · 7 days
Note
7 or 16 - Bdubs/Joel?
Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting
16. A kiss while someone watches, Bdubs/Joel, 849 words
Honestly, Bdubs saw this coming ages ago.
Since Double Life, in fact. He'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to notice the way Etho and Joel clicked. Like two halves of the same whole that had Bdubs wondering, not for the first time, if the game knew something they didn't. Bdubs hadn't been surprised when Etho came to him two sessions in to say that being with Joel felt Good. The kind of capital-letter-warranting feeling that Etho used to describe how he felt with people like Doc, like Beef, like Bdubs. Bdubs was sure at that point that Etho was in love. He was just as sure that, in time, he'd love Joel as well.
A lot had happened since then. Limited Life, the Rift debacle, The Decked Out 2 invitations, Secret Life. Season Nine had ended. When Season Ten began, Joel was there, and he took to being a Hermit like sparks to dry kindling, getting happily caught up in the whirlwind of early-game adventures.
Joel always seemed busy. Never too busy to indulge a conversation with any passersby who grabbed his attention, never too busy to pay calls and visits to his wife, and certainly never too busy to build- but busy enough that by the time he showed up on Bdubs' doorstep, Bdubs hadn't seen him since the season introduction.
It was nice, having Joel to himself for a while. They chatted, they caught up, they talked about their building plans as Bdubs toured Joel around his house and the space he'd cleared for future projects. Joel was a great rubber duck, taking all Bdubs' ideas and bouncing them back a little to the left, helping him see what could change for the better. Using the tree as a living indicator of the passage of time? Genius.
Bdubs tried to be the same, when it came time to tour Joel's base, but what could he add to perfection? His builds had so much visual interest, each decorated sign and hanging banner significant to the image as a whole. It felt like a part of a city, chiseled right out of the mountainside, and Bdubs was incredibly impressed. Verticality, especially, was a tough thing to work with.
They were on their way through the shopping district when Joel stopped. Bdubs walked a few paces ahead before he noticed, and stopped as well to let Joel catch up. The next time it happened, Bdubs paused with him. "You alright?"
Joel seemed to stare at the corner of the building they'd just passed. "Fine," He said, turning back around and gesturing with a nod for them to keep moving. As they did, Joel continued, "Any ideas why your boyfriends are following us?"
"What?" Immediately, Bdubs tried to backtrack to the corner Joel had been staring at, but Joel grabbed him by the arm.
"Shh! Bloody- don't make a scene of it. Etho's lurking behind the building," Joel nodded towards the shade behind the oddly tall pop-up shop, "And Impulse is going from roof to roof."
Bdubs had known for a long time that he was going to love Joel some day.
He just... didn't expect it to start here, with enchanting eyes glinting mischievously and a smile that made compelling promises as Joel said, "We should mess with 'em."
Bdubs' throat dried. Now wasn't the time to be looking at Joel's mouth. "Yeah, uh-huh," He said with a nervous-excited chuckle, "They've got it coming! Wh-what do they think they're doing, spyin' on us!"
Joel giggled back, and the sound made Bdubs' heart do these funny little flips that he hadn't felt since he and Impulse were bound in Double Life, "Gotta make it convincing," Joel warned.
Oh. Joel's lips were soft.
Softer than Bdubs would have expected from a man who bit them while he thought. Warm, as well, and Bdubs' awareness narrowed to that point of contact. It was tame, as far as kisses went. Joel wasn't much for tame, and possessed by resentment that Joel might be doing something stupid like holding back, Bdubs grabbed Joel by the folds of his kimono and pulled him closer, kissed him harder.
They broke apart with a gasp only after hearing the sound of Impulse falling from his rooftop perch.
For a moment, there was nothing. They both stared at where Impulse had been, then to the dissipating smoke of his lost life, his items scattered haphazardly around the area. They looked at each other, kiss-drunk and surprised, like they'd forgotten that this started as a way to get back at Etho and Impulse for stalking them through the shopping district. Like they'd forgotten that they're very much still in the, very public, shopping district. Admittedly, Bdubs might have forgotten his own name if they'd kept up like that for much longer.
They laughed.
"That's enough of that," Joel finally said, "We should get Impulse's stuff put away, before it despawns on 'im."
Bdubs nodded his agreement, already in the process of crafting a chest. "And what happens then?"
"After that," Joel had that mischievous flicker in his eyes again, "I think you and I've got a lot to talk about."
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minecraftbookshelf · 8 months
Text
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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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pokichuwrites · 4 months
Text
Edit: adding a “read more” tab because scrolling through this beast is a nightmare. No tws except uhh traffic series typical mentions of death.
“You know Grian, I forgive you.”
Grian jumped embarrassingly high, and spun around to see Scar, who was smiling at him. Perhaps he was a little on edge now that the entire server was red. That’s fine. It’s fine. “You- Scar! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Scar giggled, and Grian huffed, crossing his arms. “Come on G, it was pretty funny.”
Grian sighed. “Ugh, fine. Well, you made your way all over here. What do you want?”
Scar cleared his throat dramatically, and threw out his left arm, his right hand was holding onto his cane, or else he probably would have held out both arms, as if he was silently asking for a one armed hug.
“I just want to talk to you, is that so wrong!” Scar smiled at him. It was frustratingly endearing.
“Nothing wrong, I just… wasn’t expecting it. That’s all,” Grian explained. He didn’t really believe Scar that he just wanted to talk to Grian. There was something more. Scar was going to… trick Grian, or something. He didn’t know. They weren’t exactly allies this season, and Scar hasn’t been very trustworthy.
“Haven’t you learned to expect the unexpected, G?” Scar asked, leaning against his cane and gesturing as he talked. “How about we walk to my base and I tell you about my day and you tell me about yours?”
“You know, if the session wasn’t over already I’d assume this was related to a task,” Grian said, not moving any closer to Scar.
Scar dramatically gasped, touching his hand to his chest. “I’m wounded, Grian, that you don’t trust me.”
“I literally watched you set our trees on fire,” he deadpanned.
“Funny thing, that actually was a task,” Scar seemed… nervous. Grian just noticed all of a sudden, Scar seemed nervous about something. “But right now I just want to talk to my good friend Grian. No shenanigans involved, I swear!”
“Alright, alright, but we’re talking here. I’m not following you to your base.” Grian turned, knowing Scar would follow him as he walked into the space he shared with Cleo and Etho.
Grian knew Scar was following by the sound of his cane tapping the path, then the wood. “You know I can’t hurt you outside of a session!” Scar argued.
“That doesn’t mean that I trust you. The rules have been broken before, you know.” He didn’t mean for his voice to get a little sharp at the mention of breaking rules, but it did anyway.
Scar made a disappointed noise, but relented. “That’s fair, I guess.”
They had entered the base, and Cleo, who was working on fixing a tear in Etho’s pants, noticed Scar, and frowned. “What’s going on?” She asked.
Grian shrugged. “Scar said he wanted to talk to me.”
Cleo fixed Scar with a look. That scary look she gives someone when she doesn’t trust someone to not hurt her allies.
“Wh- hey- come on, why’s everyone looking at me like that! I really do just want to talk!” Scar said defensively.
“You don’t have the best track record when it comes to these things, Scar.” Cleo set aside the pants to stare at Scar without risking pricking her fingers with the seeing needle.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scar lied.
Grian scoffed. “Says the man who conned people out of their clothes multiple times. By the way, where’s Etho?”
“He’s in Bdubs’ bedroom,” Cleo replied, smiling slightly.
Scar looked between Grian and Cleo. “Well, would you happen to know somewhere we can talk without risking someone else listening in on us?” He asked, speaking slowly and carefully.
Grian crossed his arms. “Well, the zombie farm or the enchanter would work,” he started, “but I don’t see any reason to want to talk to you in private.”
Scar frowned. “Come on, I promise, no shenanigans! I just want to talk to you!” He sounded frustrated, and he probably was considering the conversation.
Cleo hummed. “How about this. Scar, if you and Grian talk, and you do any shenanigans, I’ll sick my dogs on you first thing next session.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die, no shenanigans!”
Grian considered it. After a bit of thinking, he gave up with a sigh. “Alright, let’s meet at the enchanter. If anything happens, though, I’m telling Cleo.” Cleo always makes good on her promises, so that at least made Grian feel safe.
Scar grinned. “Yay!”
—————
They chose the enchanting set up. That way it would be easier for Grian to run out and shout for Cleo if he felt unsafe.
He was closer to the exit than Scar, who was sitting on one of the bookshelves.
He leaned against the wall and looked at Scar, genuinely curious. “Why did you want to talk in private?” He asked.
Scar closed his eyes. “I’ve been thinking. About past seasons. I… we never really got closure, did we?”
Oh, that made sense. Grian almost felt bad for being so resistant to talking to Scar, now. Almost.
“I don’t think we did,” Grian replied. Scar was fidgeting with his cane.
“Well, I meant what I said earlier. I forgive you.”
Grian gave pause. Scar was forgiving him. After… everything. “For what?” He asked.
“Everything, I guess. For stealing a life from me in Last Life, for… the thing with BigB in Double Life, for killing me… multiple times in Limited Life. I forgive you.” Scar was quiet. It was so weird, Scar’s voice was quieter than he ever remembered it getting, save for whispering whenever he was sneaking around doing suspicious things.
“Even for Third Life?” Grian found that his voice was quieter too.
Scar looked at Grian for a moment, like the question was ridiculous or something. “What would I need to forgive you for in Third Life?”
Grian was incredulous. “Killing you? Two times?”
Scar giggled. “Oh, that? Grian, I forgave you a long time ago.” He paused, before adding, “I forgave you for that first kill pretty quickly. And I was never upset at you for winning that fight. We both said no hard feelings, right?”
Then he said something else. Very quietly- so quietly that he almost didn’t think he heard him. He had muttered something along the lines of “you deserved the win more than me anyway.”
Grian was sure that wasn’t what Scar said. It couldn’t be, right? There was no way Scar thought he deserved to win more than him. He didn’t push it, though. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what Scar had actually said.
Finally, he remembered that he needed to respond. “Oh, so you. Really do forgive me for everything.” He looked down, fidgeting with his sweater. “Why?” He had asked that last question very, very quietly.
Scar was quiet for a moment, thinking about his response. “I think I understand. I didn’t, at first. I… specifically with BigB. Everything else I knew was just how the game was, but when you… gosh, I still can’t say it…” his voice wavered as he spoke. “Anyway, I’m sure you know that the secrets tasks have been causing some… situations. You know, doing bad things because you have to. I- well, you-” he sighed. “I think I realized in session 4, when you… you were so nice to me. You didn’t have to tell me not to remove the helmet, and you didn’t have to keep my secret.”
“Scar.”
“I’m not finished. You- I was so stressed. And you understood. I didn’t think about it immediately, I was just relieved to not have to wear that stupid diamond helmet, by I definitely realized by the end of the session. My tasks kept… my tasks kept putting me in situations I really didn’t want to be in, Grian.” He looked away. He touched his face, and he wondered mindlessly if Scar was crying. After a few seconds, Scar continued. “And I- I sort of gamified it. Like, I’m not actually doing bad things, it’s… well, I treated it like I was only acting like I was a bad person, because technically I was.” He turned to face Grian again. “It’s shockingly easy to justify betraying someone. To justify hurting your friends for your benefit.”
“Scar?”
“I don’t think… Grian, you never meant to really hurt me, did you? I mean, I think you knew that certain things weren’t nice, but you never meant things ro turn out the way they did.” Scar was definitely avoiding looking at Grian. Grian didn’t really mind, he wasn’t sure if he could stand looking at Scar’s painfully earnest expression. He was really putting all his cards on the table. “I understand now. And I still wish you didn’t do some of the things you did, but I forgive you.”
Grian walked over to Scar, and hugged him. He seemed surprised, jumping slightly, before wrapping his arms around Grian too.
“Scar…” Grian muttered.
“If you don’t accept my forgiveness I will cry,” Scar threatened, as if he wasn’t already crying. Grian didn’t comment on that.
“I’m not very good at apologizing, I’ve realized.” Scar chuckled in reply to that. “I’m sorry,” Grian added, “for not realizing sooner how much I’ve hurt you.”
Scar let go first, Grian did the same after a moment and stepped back. “Can we agree to never tell anyone else about this conversation?” Grian asked.
Scar nodded. “Yeah.” He reached for his cane, realizing suddenly that he had dropped it without realizing, and it had rolled away from him. He muttered under her breath in frustration. Grian picked up the object and offered it to Scar, who smiled at him and accepted it, standing up.
“You know this won’t change how we interact during sessions, right?” Grian asked as he wordlessly helped Scar up.
Scar began walking in front of Grian. “I do, yeah. I just wanted to let you know I forgive you.”
Grian smiled. “Alright.”
The two didn’t say anything else as they left the enchanting room. They didn’t need to. They had said “bye” quietly to each other, then Scar left to go to his base.
————
As Grian walked into the base, Cleo looked at him. She had finished her work on Etho’s pants, which weren’t anywhere ro be seen now. Grian assumed they had been returned to him. “Anything happen that I should know about?”
Grian walked over to her. “No,” he replied, “nothing.”
Cleo sighed. She looked Grian over, suspicious. “You sure? You know I will make good on my promise.”
Grian shook his head. “I swear everything’s fine, Cleo. Scar did have something important to talk about.”
“I assume you’re not going to tell me?” Cleo asked as she fed rotten flesh to her dogs.
“It’s… personal,” Grian replied.
Cleo nodded in understanding. “I get it.” She gestured to the staircase, which led to the bedroom they made for Bdubs while Etho refused to shut up about him. “By the way, your wings are a mess. Do you want Etho and I to preen them?”
Grian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah that would be nice.” He moved upstairs, then avoided the hole from the tnt minecart as he entered the bedroom. “Hey, Etho.”
He looked up at Grian and Cleo. “Hey,” he replied.
Grian sat on the bed as Cleo explained to Etho that Grian needed his wings preened. And then the soothing motions of two pairs of hands running through his wings practically turned him liquid. His conversation with Scar had left him tense without realizing. The reminder of the past that Grian just wanted to put behind him. He remembered now, in this moment, something that he forgot a few seasons ago.
The gentle moments like this, the comfort of people he trusted enough to allow them to touch his wings in the first place, they would always happen as long as he let them. Grian had forgotten how it felt to completely and fully trust. He always trusted his allies, but not enough to let them preen his wings. Not enough to know, in every fiber of his being, that they would keep their promises. The last time Grian let an ally preen his wings was Scar, back in Third Life.
Maybe he could heal. Maybe he could peel away all the layers of distrust and hurt. Just maybe…
Grian realized he was crying, but he found that he didn’t care. He was comfortable and safe and happy. Next session would probably be the last session, on a server full of reds and animosity, the chance of anyone seeing a session 10 was incredibly low. But that would be a problem for later Grian. Current Grian was being preened by his friends, his allies.
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kiwinatorwaffles · 1 month
Text
hermit species headcanons: volume… 2!
i made this post two years ago when i was fresh to the series and was just getting to know the hermits. a lot has changed since then, but a lot has also stayed the same! my headcanons are getting refined every single time i talk about them, so chances are, this list won't even be accurate to my thoughts a year later.
with that being said, let's get started! click the cut to read them all
bdubs: glare! small, hates the dark, is a feral creature, will never let go of the moss. he and pungance were born from the same tree in the same patch of moss so they are brothers LMAO
beef: vampire! but not a full one. he was bitten by a bat and gained two vampiric traits exactly: fangs and sensitive skin. beef thinks his tendency to get sunburnt easily is just something in his code or a genetic condition. he never got it checked.
cub: alien shapeshifter! his original form is this shapeless void blob, and he can only copy how other beings look like. his forms were taken from two astronauts he saw in space, an old man and a young man. his void form can be seen slightly on his inner arm, where there is just a sliver of night sky hanging out
cleo: zombie (duh) cleo was permakilled by a witch's curse but when faced with the pearly gates they were like. nah. i'd rather be down there. and just straight up left and came back as a zombie. that's how she met joe. because he was sitting on top of her tombstone eating a sandwich
doc: originally a fae, but now he's super fucked up? what can i even say. he was a fae who got super interested in the sciences and started experimenting on himself just for the hell of it. there was that whole dinnerbone cyborg arm thing but he also managed to make himself a centaur form that he uses for extra storage and height. nobody knows where the creeper came from. was it from his dad's side? did he give it to himself? not even stress, his cousin, can tell you how he came to be. what the hermits DO know however is that he can steal pronouns by asking for them
etho: redstone deity! etho was an ancient builder who was executed for witchcraft upon his discovery of redstone. he was resurrected by the universe as a second chance and to spread his knowledge to the world. you can read more from my fic here ehehehehe
false: human! yes she is 100% human. i just thought it would be funny if such an awesome and skilled fighter was just some normal ass human with a bit of social anxiety
gem: forest spirit! she has nature powers and can change parts of her body to reflect parts of nature. she's a deer? an elf? nope! only sometimes. she can mix and match whatever traits she wants on any given day. but be careful of those deer legs and horns. they Hurt
grian: red macaw avian! he has bird feathers covering his ears, parrot wings, and bird talons! he is also able to mimic voices perfectly (which he uses to play pranks and swear in other hermits’ voices) and is a Hollow Boned Menace. he carries a lot of bird tendencies, like being a piece of shit or preening his friends’ hair when it’s too messy (which is always). in start of seasons, he has x lock away usage of his wings to keep himself from an unfair advantage. he also has stolen powers from the watchers, which he can use to change his wing colors or view the entire map from afar.
npg: ????????????? he’s supposed to be a robot, but he has wings and flies sideways?????? he’s somehow even more fucked up than robot grian. not even grian is sure of what he created tbh. he just knows he did NOT give npg those conure wings to begin with.
ariana griande: galah avian! she is grian's cousin who is a pop star. she has never actually been on hermitcraft before -- that was grian cosplaying as her.
hypno: human warlock! he accidentally made a pact when he replaced his tooth with a piece of cursed gold. jokes on his patron though, his faulty human memory can't even remember how he got his powers! he has lots of inscriptions as tattoos written in galactic just all over his body that he completely forgot how to read at this point and is immortal. maybe that's a bit bad for his sense of self-preservation
impulse: demon/imp! he used to be a gargoyle that dispensed candy, but a wizard passing by granted him life and well. now he's here! demons are actually underworld spirits that punish permadead players who have been genuinely horrible to the players around them, but impulse wanted to build houses and play with redstone instead of stirring the torture soup. so when he met skizz he decided hanging out with the players was the best thing to do. he also used to have larger horns and wings but his time on the surface has made his wings very tiny and unusable without the help of an elytra. skizz always teases him for this.
iskall: cyborg! the hermits don't know if he was fully human before the cyborgification. me, personally? i think it would be funny if she was actually built to protect a village but had too much of a personality so the villages just let him go have fun with the players. not sure if i want to adhere to that though
jevin: slime! certain slimes have evolved to be more like players. jevin is from the blue variety (that's his gender)
joe hills: ???????? void-born universe being??? joe is actually the oldest living being in the universe. he was just popped out of void (even predating the void gods) and spent all this time just doing whatever fuckall was around to do. he looks like a normal human being but just Slightly to the left, like his a bit-too-many teeth or slight lean when he stands. other than that, he acts like any other human!
joel: human mage! he actually only has powers of illusion that changes only how he looks. he Really wanted to be an orc but the spell couldnt last forever (as his fae wife lizzie found out after marriage). every day he wishes he had as much swag as shrek did. more on the headcanon here
keralis: weird fucking eldritch cryptid being? except he looks exactly like a human. nothing weird about him, nope. just don't look too closely at his eyes. he promises that he blinks like a normal person and not with his pupils.
mumbo: robot! with a core heart and stretchy limbs, he runs mainly on the consumption of redstone and occasionally typical foodstuffs. he had a creator before the days of hermitcraft (who originally built him as a war machine but something went deeply sideways during construction) that taught him all there is to know about redstone and the outside world. he also inherited the british accent and mustache from his creator. his creator did want him to be free and wiped mumbo's memory of his creation before setting him off into the overworld and letting him roam free. now he's just a silly guy!
grumbot: robot! he was first built to give suggestions on what to do with the mayoral elections but then he developed actual attachments to his horribly neglectant dads </3 but it's alright! he now chills with renbob and goatman up in the hermitheus
pearl: moon spirit! she was the moon from a player's hardcore world. the player used to talk to the moon for fun, but suddenly disappeared from the world one day. now feeling lonely, pearl took a humanoid form and descended to find where her player went, but she ended up discovering the joys of being a player herself. contrary to popular belief, she had no influence on the season 8 moon.
ren: weredog! can shapeshift into a dog form, which he usually uses to either run fast or play fetch. he’s also more prone to change when the moon is larger…. except he just becomes a hyperactive dog who chases his tail all night and is deeply embarrassed by it. he also probably has rabies, but everyone whom he has bitten probably already had something deeply wrong with them to begin with anyway
renbob: human...? he's related to ren from the human side, or at least that what he tells people. but he might as well be 50% weed by now
scar: human(?) wizard! he can fly, subtly change his physical appearance, cast spells, and do all sorts of magical shenanigans! he also can read galactic fluently, which is how he learned that hypno enchanted himself with loyalty at some point. jellie is his beloved familiar. also he's a capitalist. nobody knows where that came from
skizz: angel! why are there angels in minecraft, you might ask? some people are satisfied with their lives and let themselves permadie. skizz, after being born randomly from an angel statue (i wonder if it’s related to the other statue guy) was supposed to be one of the angels who helped escort players to the pearly gates, but he met impulse while his demon clan was taking a field trip to heaven. the two immediately became besties and skizz begged the universe to let him join the players. the universe begrudgingly agreed and now he's here! he hides his many other halos as ring tattoos on his arms as well
stress: fae! she's got fairy powers, magical swag, an affinity for flowers, and will beat you up if you assume she's the resident server cleric.
tango: ex-blazeborn! he saw some yummy packed ice and ate it, which extinguished his internal flame. his blazeborn tribe felt bad for him but knew it would be dangerous if he stayed, so tango just left for the overworld instead. he tries to convince people that he is 100% a human and not suspicious at all because he's embarrassed of having to explain that he lost most of his powers due to eating some yummy ice cream. a more detailed post about my headcanon can be found here
tfc: human! the only non-human aspect of him is a prosthetic leg. contrary to popular belief, he did not lose that leg while mining. it was after fighting a horde of skeletons. (he won)
wels: human. he's just a human. nobody believes him when he tells them because they've seen him accidentally level a building while sparring before. but nope. he's just a human. and a very fucked up one at that
hels: ???? techncially has the traits of wels, beef, and etho????? is there a species for evil clones created by copying machines or
xb: guardian! he was a guardian made to guard the magical treasures of ancient builders, but he got bored of staying in the same spot for centuries and his creators never returning. hypno casted a spell of bipedelity on xb, so now he can walk on land! i wrote a fic about it here too
xisuma: voidwalker! created by the young void gods, he was made from a fucking mspaint file where the void gods dicked around with the program and made a deeply fucked up being (him) on accident. he has no mouth, his hands are as black as the void, and his voice is terrifying without a modulator, which is why he wears a helmet. more about it in my fic here
evil x: also a voidwalker, but this time the void gods pressed random on a picrew and sent him out into an alternate dimension. he grew up in super england until x fished him out of the void. this little rascal has red scleras, ram horns, and a devil tail. he doesn't need to sleep, so he gets all his energy from eating, which is convenient because his sharp teeth can crunch anything and he can digest everything. his hair acts like an enderchest with a portal to the void, where he keeps snacks and various trinkets.
zedaph: human, but he’s not sane. i mean look at this guy. look at what he’s doing. nobody knows how he became so deeply fucked up but he's truly just Like That. he gave himself sheep features once on accident though
worm man: surprisingly, human. he's lucky to have stayed human for this long with his brother's insane experiments. accurate to popular belief, he has no superpowers.
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mar-im-o · 2 years
Text
The Watcher's hands weave threads of green and gold and red throughout those Grian loves.
And in those threads the Watchers tie souls. Souls bound in love. Souls bound in pain. Souls bound between one another. Some try to fight it--insisting that they are not soulmates, that their soul belongs to another, but it's a tiresome, futile effort to reject the manipulation of the soul.
Not that Grian thinks so.
He's seen how the others react as they try to reject their soulmates. Scott thinks of Pearl constantly, dotes on her well-being, obsessively calls her to him under the guise of toying with her. Martyn sobs for Cleo. BDubs panics when Impulse is too far from him.
The Watcher's threads are strong.
But not to Grian.
"We're not soulmates," he insists one evening, the harsh words riding on the breeze rushing pass their base and off into the ravine.
He's perched atop pointed dripstone, watching lazily as Scar puts the Jellie pandas to sleep. His friend looks up at Grian with a start, brow quirked in a teasing glance. "Oh?"
"Yep," Grian goes on. Clipped wings help him leap from the cake and onto the perimeter of the Jellie Sanctuary. "Big B's my soulmate now. Just so you know."
Scar snorts then turns back the Jellies, feeding one bamboo. "Well, alright then!"
Grian squints. "Seriously. I'm leaving you. Big B and I are running away together."
"Right."
"Far away," Grian says, placing emphasis on the distance as he looks to the sky, pretending not to be drinking in Scar's every reaction. "We're gonna build our own ranch in the mountains. Farm goats."
"Sounds nice."
"Without you."
"Just remember to eat," Scar says with hum, scratching beneath a Jellie's chin. "I'll try not to get us on Red!"
But the red has already infiltrated Grian's soul, shown through a burning in his cheeks. He puffs them out in frustration (a little more bird-like than he'd prefer) feathers at his back fluffing in a similar response as he jumps into the sanctuary.
It spooks the Jellies and a few grumble in response, the one nearly tipping Scar's chair backwards. Scar rights himself with a laugh, finally meeting Grian's eyes.
And he's fine. No hidden jealousy, no subtle longing. Nothing. He's...
He's fine.
Grian puffs up a bit more. "Do you not care if I leave?"
Scar finally seems to register Grian's tone and sobers. He tilts his head, full attention on Grian.
Finally.
"Do you want me to?" Scar asks, and Grian feels like he could explode.
"YES!! We're soulmates! We should be doing what the others are, shouldn't we? Being alone should sound miserable!"
Scar just offers a confused chuckle, looking around the sanctuary as if the Jellies could help him escape. "Well it doesn't sound fun but I don't own you, G. If you want to leave, you can leave!"
"But--" Grian fumbles for words, trying his best to soothe a soul that won't calm. He ends up just crossing his arms. "This isn't how the game goes. Everyone else--they want to be together, they're obsessed with each other. Why aren't we?"
"Because we're not them?" Scar guesses. He's clicked off his brakes so he can move closer to Grian, offering a hand. "Why do you want to be?"
Grian looks away from the open palm.
He doesn't know. He doesn't know why this is so important to him, why he wants to see Scar get worked up and angry and insist that they're meant to be together. He doesn't know why this has him panicking.
Everyone else--their soulmates are their everythings, but no matter what Grian does, Scar's attention can easily find something else. Does that mean he doesn't care?
"Gri?"
Grian sniffs. "You do care, right? About me? You like being soulmates?"
Scar laughs, a bit more genuine in his surprise. "Of course I do! Did you think I didn't?"
"Maybe?" Grian shrugs and, finally, places a hand in Scar's offered palm. Familiar fingers wrap around his, and he's happy to let the sensation calm him. "I just don't get why it hasn't affected us like everyone else. Guess I figured something was wrong."
"Something wrong--?" Scar shakes his head and tugs an unsuspecting Grian forward, the man squawking a bit as he falls forward and into Scar's lap. Scar immediately traps him in a hug, pressing their foreheads together.
When he speaks again it's with a fond smile and a faux British accent. "'I am in your service until you lose your first life'."
The anger disperses at the poor mockery and Grian snorts, making an attempt to shove Scar away. "That's borderline offensive!"
Scar only pulls Grian closer, a teasing glint in his eye. "'I don't want to see him go! I just can't let him go!'"
"Alright," Grian laughs, and he gives in. He melts in Scar's arms, wings a curtain of feathers separating them from the Jellies. And they're alone. And they're together. And Grian is putty in Scar's lap, sturdy arms holding him close. "What's all this then?"
"Proof," Scar says, voice normal again. "And accent practice."
Grian shakes his head. "Needs work. And proof of what?"
"That we're soulmates." Scar's hand moves from Grian's back to his chest, plucking the ethereal thread between them. "The Watchers didn't tie this, Grian. We did. Back when this all started."
"I don't--"
"If we aren't like everyone else, it's because they're all new to this! They've never been bound to someone else before. But we have." Scar's fingers roll into an open palm pressed firmly over Grian's heart. He can feel his heart race at the sensation, and Scar's follows. "We're soulmates, Grian."
And Grian collapses. Tears which threatened his eyes spill and he shifts to wrap his arms around Scar, chests pressed together so that two synced hearts might combine. He buries his face in Scar's neck and Scar holds him.
Scar holds him.
"We're soulmates," Grian whispers to the wind and the evening stars.
And a loyal partner whispers back: "We're soulmates."
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yeahiamjustalittleguy · 9 months
Note
Ask and you'll receive!!
Can I get some headcannons or a scenario with any hermits you want where the Reader owns a little Diner, kinda like your basic 80's-90's aesthetic?
Have a good one :]]
Multiple little blurb mode activated. Also I am at my parents place for a bit and my laptop has a few broken keys so I am unresponsible for any spelling mistakes :[
_______________________________________-
Grian:
It was super early in the morning, having basically just opened up the store moments earlier when Grian came in. Usually, you knew him to be more of a late riser, but it was nice to see him. Especially since seeing a very tired and cute Grian was not something you got to see very often, despite him basically coming to your diner every day for breakfast. Walking over to him, a bright smile on your face, he gave you a small smile despite clearly being too tired for it. Still, you appreciated the efforts.
“Late night, Grian? The usual?” You asked, and he nodded, planting his head on his hand as he watched you working behind the counter. Honestly, you couldn’t say it wasn’t flattering how you could feel his eyes following along as you moved about the kitchen working on his breakfast. It struck you that he had probably been up all night, cause if it had really been a late night for him he would just still be asleep. Finishing up making his plate, you placed it on the counter in front of him. Having no one else in the diner at the time, most of the hermits (except Bdubs) were probably still asleep, you stood opposite him. 
“Why are you still awake, Grian?” You asked, curious as to what he might have been doing all night that had kept him up. It was something that had never happened before, to be honest. Grian really liked his sleep. He swallowed a piece of his pancake before speaking. “I had to do some work, and I didn’t want to wake up too late because then I couldn’t come see you.” He explained, munching away again. You laughed, and flicked his forehead softly.
It did make you blush, though. “You don’t have to come here to see me, Grian. You’re always welcome with me.”
“Yeah, but I like your uniform.” He said, letting a comfortable silence befall you.
______________
XisumaVoid:
It’s late, middle of the night when he comes around. You’ve already closed up the diner, but you’re trying to get everything done for the day tomorrow. You’d wiped down the tables and counters, and cleaned most of the kitchen at this point. When he softly put his fingers to the glass outside, knocking very lightly so as to not give you a scare, you had been sweeping the floors. You hurriedly put down the broom against the counter, wiping your hands down on your apron before unlocking the door to your diner. Xisuma stepped through, hiding one hand behind his back and when you noticed you raised an eyebrow at him, nodding towards his arms. There was a goofy smile painted on his face. “What’s all this, then?” you asked.
“Nothing, I just thought I’d check in on my favourite person.” He says, feigning ignorance and innocence. You squinted up at him, letting him know you see through him. You lunge for his arm, wanting to peel it from behind his back to look at what he is trying to hide from you, but he quickly steps back to avoid your arm. “Hey! Show me what you’ve got.” You demand from him, starting to walk towards him again. He pivots, still keeping whatever he has hidden behind him, away from your line of sight as he sprints to the other side of the counter.
Caught off guard at his moment, you make an effort to follow behind him. But he’s placed whatever he was holding behind the counter, and making his way to meet you he stops you from making your way behind the counter by grabbing you by the waist and pushing you back. You whine. “Sumaaa, I want to know what you have.” He laughs as you push against him, still shoving you back lightly. A thought pops into your head, and you stop trying to get away from him, instead leaning against him and looking up at him with big open eyes. “Is it something for me?” You ask. His mouth turns up in a very soft smile.
“Why would I get you something?” He then asks, putting a piece of hair behind your ear. You make a sad face up at him and he just laughs at you, and then hearing him laugh you can’t help but also burst into laughter. Having him caught off guard too you push him to the side, releasing his grip on you and making a dash for the other side of the counter. Laying there is a small bouquet of wildflowers. You grab them, pulling them to your chest. “Oh, Suma! These are for me right?” You ask excitedly, and he lets out a sigh at his jig being up. 
“Of course they’re for you.” He says, and you smell them, smiling to yourself, ready to close up shop and go home with Xisuma. 
___________________
ZombieCleo:
It had been a very busy day at the diner, the day only now starting to wind down. Basically every hermit under the sun had visited the diner today, Doc even having visited twice just because he couldn’t be arsed to make or get any food of his own. You didn’t mind, in the end, it just meant more diamonds to spend for you. But it was odd, having so many people pop around all day. Not once had the diner been empty. And now, as the day was settling in, and the sun was setting, you felt the exhaustion take over. If one more hermit came through those doors you would lose your mind. 
Just as the thought crossed your mind, the little bell attached to the door rang, signaling that someone had entered the small diner. You were still open, so you couldn’t just turn around and scream at whoever just entered, but the thought did cross your mind. So when you turned around and saw Cleo a giant sigh of relief escaped your lips. She noticed, and let a giggle slip as well. “Rough day, then?” She asked, and you nodded, letting your shoulders slouch. You started explaining how every hermit under the sun had paid you a visit. She seemed to get more and more nervous during your walkthrough of how your day went, and you knew something was up. So you just asked what was on her mind.
“Well, it’s my fault they all came through. I let it slip that I was going to come ask you something today and I guess they all wanted to be there. I don’t know where they got the idea I’d do it with them all there, but they’re nosy.” She explained, scratching the back of her head and looking away as to not let your eyes meet. She was clearly nervous about whatever she wanted to talk to you about. “Well, I don’t mind. You can ask me now.” You said, fiddling with the end of your frilly apron. You and Cleo had always danced around each other, and even if you did want her to ask you out. 
“Great! Uh, so..  I was thinking I could maybe, if you wanted, pick you up and go somewhere tomorrow when you close up shop.” She managed to squeak out, and you giggled, jumping to envelope her in a big hug. 
“I’d love to, Cleo!”
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oshawottarchive · 3 months
Text
What are the Hermits?
Hermit species list! Might expand on this in the future
I also made up species cause I have no idea what “Voidwalker” or “Blazeborn” mean
Bdubs: Human / Dreamer / Shade
Technically human but has inhuman properties and is pretty uncanny valley! Was a sun god that one time
Cub: Vex
Has illusion magic that allows him to disguise himself as human, and occasionally as other players. Was infected by Skulk for a bit
Doc: Creeper / Goat / Robot
Exactly what it says on the tin! Also grows tomato vines around his horns sometimes
Etho: Phantom / Glitch
Most obviously a Phantom, and has bony wings. He’s also a glitch in the game and will warp himself and his surroundings a little bit. The part of his face covered by his mask is skeletal. Might also be a failed clone?
False: Eagle
Gem: Not-deer
Seems like a normal deer player at first glance, but there’s something a bit uncanny about her
Scar: Human / Vex
A Vex, although he’s not a full one like Cub. He usually stores his magic in crystals
Grian: Magpie / Watcher
A pesky bird to his core. He’s also pretty eldritch and very powerful when he wants to be
Hypno: Beetle / Hypnotist
Normally keeps his wings hidden, and most of the time he looks human enough. Has strong magic and is another resident of the uncanny valley
Jevin: Slime
Impulse: Imp
Has magic, although it’s not very strong
Skizz: Angel
Can switch from humanoid to biblically accurate, and likes to use that ability to mess with his friends. Quite a bit more powerful than Impulse
Iskall: Cyborg
Joe: Poltergeist / Eldritch
Not really undead or technically a spirit, since he was never alive or had a spirit in the first place. Can basically do whatever he wants, he is Joe Hills after all
Keralis: Puppet / Eldritch / Body-snatcher
Puppet possessed by an eldritch entity. He’s capable of taking over bodies and effectively banishing the host into the nothingness, although he hasn’t done so in a long while
Mumbo: Human / Vampiric
Despite being a vampire, he doesn’t drink blood, he just gets really bad sunburns sometimes
Pearl: Moth / Lunar
Has a strong connection to the moon and the markings on her wings change with its cycle. She was also a Glare while she was the cleaning lady
Ren: Werewolf
Stress: Butterfly / Fae
Very powerful, although she doesn’t use her magic for much more than helping plants grow, although those plants usually turn out pretty weird
Tango: Fire being / Lunar
A being originating from fire itself, and was connected to Decked Out 2 for a while, which was some sort of eldritch parasite. After Season 8, he became a Lunar, although he’s not very happy about it, and most of the others don’t know about it. Has four arms sometimes, but no one knows how the extra arms get there or where they go afterwards
Beef: Minotaur
xB: Sarcastic fringehead
A type of fish! He might also have a few soul stealing properties
Xisuma: Undead / Robot
Spirit inside of a robotic suit. He’s had multiple forms, including being a bee, an axolotl, and a dragon
Zedaph: Satyr / Moth
He can summon himself some cool rosy maple moth wings
Cleo: Undead
As her name suggests, she’s specifically a zombie
Wels: Possessed knight
A possessed suit of armor covering a mannequin
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swamp-chicken · 4 months
Note
clethubs 44 or 67!!
OMG- NewJeans
The song’s about someone being there when you need them, so…
Cleo languorously stretched across the couch, swinging their legs over Bdubs’ lap. His hand wrapped around their ankle, but he didn’t look up from the book he was reading. He was squinting, holding the pages only a few inches from his face.
“You need glasses,” Cleo remarked.
“I—huh?” Bdubs asked, tearing his attention away from the book. His brow furrowed as his brain caught up. “Excuse me! Do I look like a nerd to you?”
“Hmm,” Cleo said, sinking further into the couch. A warm sea breeze blew in through the open window and tousled their hair. Living in Atlantis sure has some perks. 
Bdubs sniffed, returning back to his book. It was something he had found in Cleo’s library, something about color theory. They couldn’t fault him for reading it but it was awfully… boring.
They wished Etho were here, if only to have someone join them in making fun of Bdubs. But he had left early in the morning to go caving of all things. Like it was some sort of hobby. 
As if summoned, Cleo’s communicator beeped. They dug through their pockets until they found the device and flipped it open. The message that greeted them made them burst out laughing. 
“What?” Bdubs asked. “Let me see!”
Still laughing, Cleo handed the communicator to him. 
Etho was blown up by creeper. 
“Oh, geez,” Bdubs snickered. “What’s he doing down there?”
“Not using his shield, apparently.”
“Does he ever?” 
Grinning, Cleo snatched the communicator out of Bdubs’ hands and began typing.
ZombieCleo: try using that thing on your left arm to block any explosions! 
Etho: thanks, cleo. I never would have known
Cleo snorted. 
“What? What’s he saying?” Bdubs abandoned his book so he could read over Cleo’s shoulder. 
“He must have set spawn over there,” Cleo mused. There were no cries of despair echoing through the castle to indicate that Etho had spawned here. 
“See? He’s still an amazing wonderful genius.”
“Despite all signs to the contrary.”
“Cleo!” Bdubs admonished. But he still stretched out alongside them on the couch, pillowing his head on their chest.  “Naptime?” he asked hopefully.
It was midday, the warm breeze soporific. Despite themselves, Cleo yawned. It wasn’t such a bad idea, taking a nap… it wasn’t like there was much else to do, with the castle almost all decorated and the end of the season drawing near…
Cleo’s communicator dinged. 
Etho was blown up by creeper.
“Again?!” Bdubs squawked. 
Cleo shrieked with laughter. “Oh my god! What’s he doing? Should we go down and rescue him?”
“Oh, no, no, Cleo, this is the Etho we’re talking about. He doesn’t need our help.” 
“Right, of course. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that we’re very, very comfy right now.”
Bdubs’ eyes were already falling closed. “Exactly, Cleo, we’re better friends if we don’t help him.”
Cleo’s communicator dinged.
“Don’t tell me…” Bdubs whined.
Etho was blown up by creeper.
Cleo couldn’t breathe through their laughter.
Etho: guys :( 
ZombieCleo: Alright, alright.  Send me your coords
Cleo wiggled out from under Bdubs’ clinging arms. “C’mon, we need to go save our boy.” 
Bdubs grumbled but agreeably sat up. “He’s washed. Let’s go.” 
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hopepetal · 8 months
Text
Some ranchers. Because I said I'd write them <3
––
First out.
Again.
And by his own stupid hand, his own stupid actions, because he never learned. He never learned.
No matter what he tried, no matter what he did, Jimmy would always be the canary.
“I hate myself,” he cried into the empty afterlife, drawing his knees up to his chest and rocking back and forth, wrapping his golden wings around himself as if they could shield him from the harsh reality. As if they could protect him from the truth.
“I hate myself,” he wept, and nothing changed for it. Time still ticked, tocked, sand trickling through the hourglass of life. His own hourglass was cracked open, sand spilling to the ground.
“I hate myself,” he whispered, and it echoed throughout the empty white space that stretched out infinitely.
And then he wasn't alone.
And then Skizz was there, with a gasp and tears streaking down his face but a smile on his lips. And then Joel was there, with a frustrated scream of rage. And then Bdubs.
They all exchanged brief words. Joel hugged Jimmy tightly for a moment, mournful whispers of a planned sacrifice in his ear. It wouldn't have worked. It never did. But Jimmy thanked Joel for trying.
And then someone was sitting next to him, cross legged and hands in their lap, tail swishing back and forth slightly. Jimmy didn't even need to look over to see who it was. He knew the presence of his rancher, knew the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing.
“I'm sorry you got out first again,” Tango said, just as Jimmy muttered, “out first again, huh?”
They both looked at each other, meeting eyes that were finally their natural hue, and for a moment just stared. Then, Tango giggled nervously, and Jimmy couldn't help but smile as well.
“I'm still sorry about hitting you,” Jimmy apologized, wrapping a wing around Tango. “I was just bein' bad, you know how it is.”
Tango laughed, leaning against Jimmy. “I think it suits you. Black leather brings out your eyes. When you're not wearing sunglasses. I mean. Obviously. Because when you're wearing sunglasses your eyes are covered and–”
“Tango, Tango, buddy, I get it,” Jimmy interrupted, his mind far away from the self-loathing of earlier. “Here. Hold on.” He took off his sunglasses and fluttered his eyelashes at Tango. “Better?”
Tango's face went red, and he nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Cool! Those are your eyes! Wow!”
“You two really are soulmates,” Cleo commented from where they stood with Bdubs and Scar, an arm around the former. “Get a room, jeez.”
Jimmy shot her a glare, though there was nothing behind it. “Oh, buzz off!”
Tango burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking and tail tip flicking back and forth. “Ohhhh, oh man. I'm glad I got to see you again, Jimmy.”
“You need to visit more often,” Jimmy muttered, “I missed you.”
Tango pouted slightly. “I know... I'll try. I promise. But you know me, I start working on some project and then forget about time...” Noticing how Jimmy's shoulders slumped, he hurried to add on, “but I'll try! I will! I promise!”
“Good.”
“Good!”
As the last of the sand spilled from Martyn's hourglass, Jimmy and Tango watched. And as with every game, they slowly began to fade away from the afterlife, sent back to their home servers.
“Remember,” Jimmy told a translucent Tango, his voice resonating strangely, “you promised you'd visit.”
Tango grinned, nodding. “Rancher's honor! See you soon!”
And with that, they faded away.
Somewhere, a tiny toy sheriff awoke with a gasp, and felt like something was missing.
Somewhere, a hermit awoke with a soft yelp, and felt as if he'd broken a promise.
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boonbeenblade · 5 months
Text
Secrets Shared
They know how this games goes. Distrust. Betrayal. Winner-take-all. Secrets.
Inspired by this incredible piece of art by @panidanya! Read it here on AO3!
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It's not a question of if they find each other, but when. Etho is whittling his early set of wooden tools, and hears hooves shuffling over the nearby hill, accompanied by a voice staking its claim. Horses, this early? Bdubs. Who else would it be? He brushes the shavings off the crafting table, looking up to see that he was right. Bdubs has already calmed the horse he's trying to nudge down the hill, rubbing the side of her neck with low clicking noises. She's a beauty, ash-black coat darkening to true black on mane and tail, and not a marking in sight. And even without a saddle, it's no surprise that Bdubs can get her to wander in the right direction with a few words and a squeeze of his thighs. He's always had a way with horses. They both have, even in different ways. Etho guides them, knows how to out-predict them, to get them to listen. Bdubs...it's more like he's listening to them, like he's one of them. Probably why he looks so damn smug when he notices Etho staring at the horse. "I tamed this one! I claim it!" "No saddle, though." Etho knows he sounds like a kid making up new rules to keep from losing a game. "First one to get a saddle - you stole my horse last time!" Bdubs blinks, and laughs, covering up the sound of whispers echoing through their heads. He'd entirely forgotten about that.
They're both so busy chatting that they don't realize something has already changed. Weights added by the game - not metaphorical, for once. Secret tasks. Bdubs is thinking about where to find a saddle when Etho, having dug into the ground to make them some hardier tools, brings it up. "I'm scared to look at it," he says, with an ease of admittance. He didn't have anything to hide from Bdubs about how he was feeling. There were no secrets between them - or perhaps there were, too many to care. Bdubs is scared too, but he doesn't need to say it. "Okay, you know what? Let's look at ours the same time, kay?" Bdubs didn't even realize he'd reached his hand down to help pull Etho out of the hole until  - and from the look in Etho's face, he hadn't realized he'd taken it, either. Teamwork without a moment of thought needed for it. Etho releases his hand, dipping into his jacket and pulling out the book that had appeared there. He slides his thumb smoothly between the pages as Bdubs fumbles his own out of a back pocket, squeezing the spine and letting the bookmark determine where it would land.
"One. Two."
They take a beat, and move without thinking once more. Arms wrap around one another, Etho's wiry one snaking through the gap in Bdubs' sturdy one. The jacket presses against the bandages. The books tilt back, resting against each other, one's back touching the other's front. Their hands are practically parallel in holding up the secrets. It's a handshake, and a challenge, and a promise. No skin touches - Etho bares so little in the first place, and even Bdubs has coverage
"And three."
Both books fall open.
Bdubs can tell when Etho's finished with his; the angle of his hand shifts, tilting the book back towards himself over his mouth like a lady with a fan. It takes him a second longer to parse his own, fighting the urge to shape his mouth around the words. It SHOULDN'T count as telling someone his secret, technically, but the game's just begun and he's not taking the chance. His eyes lift from the page, and meet Etho's. Even with the one eye perpetually closed, Bdubs can tell that Etho is winking at him with the closed eye; it's the shift of a hundred tiny things in the face that Bdubs knows all too well.
Etho watches as Bdubs tilts his head back to be seen clearer over the book. His grin is broad, turning into a smirk at the corners; there's a complete lack of shame - almost a pride - in showing off the gaps in his teeth and the bruise on his eye. Even with a secret in his callused hand, Bdubs has nothing to hide.
They don't close their books, but neither is reading their own secret anymore. They're staring at each other. Two men bound by marks of time, so deeply grooved that determining who had what first is not only impossible, but irrelevant.
Etho hums softly, not moving. "Now, we don't really want to tell each other what these are." "Right, right," Bdubs returns, the smirk somehow growing. "This is a very interesting one, though?" "It is?" "Sneaky, deceptive...you know." He finally lowers the book, and the mask gives away the grin to someone who knows him this well. "My kind of style." Bdubs pretends to be shocked. "Really?" Etho? Enjoying the underhanded?
They know how this games goes. Distrust. Betrayal. Winner-take-all. Secrets. They're not supposed to share their secrets with anyone. The Secret Keeper, and all the watching eyes, are looking for people trying to break the rules. A correction, they think. They're not supposed to TELL anyone their secret. Sharing the moment of secrecy, the way they have. Well. So many secrets between them - shared, made, and simply left - that one more is nothing.
It's about a decade too late to stop them.
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