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tunastime · 11 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.

#dbhc #ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #tangotek #hermitcraft #hermitcraft dbh au #hermitcraft fic #mcyt #mcyt fic #text #fics #HI SHEPHERD THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME DO THIS #YALL i am so CRAZY about them #there's another fic too where they kiss #blows myself up RAGHRGAHRAHRRBGHRBGHR #AHEM im fine #im okay now <33 #anyway ethubs weeeeee!!

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days-until-burnout · 2 months

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You want to write boat boys but need ideas? Joel did just build himself a room in Etho’s base, maybe a short fic about him trying to subtly move in.

Not the best idea at all, but it’s something. Good luck writing :)

you're in luck because there are no mistakes in this account 😌 and how could i refuse or reject a boat boys idea? it'd be losing a part of myself if i did that! also, this got a little sadder than intended. this was supposed to be a comedy but not! enjoy<3! _____

📧 Day 33 -

Characters - Etho/&Joel Words - 1,702 Time - 50 mins Content - Hermitcraft | Ambiguous relationship

Joel looked around. Nervous was an understatement. And to think this all started with Iskall’s Mission Possible. It was very much possible, and rather easy to achieve too, so why did he have to go for some unnecessary extra? Not like he would be getting extra rewards or anything; in any case, if caught, he would be losing. Mainly in the ego department. He could already imagine Etho mocking him for the rest of their lives. Really, of all the bases on Hermitcraft, he chose Etho’s. With everything they had going on, their obsessed ‘bit’, he really could not have chosen a better hermit (that was sarcasm, very much sarcasm).

Eventually, Etho stepped out of his base and Joel ducked further into the bushes, covered by the leaves, watching his every move. He watched him equip his elytra and get some rockets, tossing some in the air and easily catching them. What a dork. Etho set off shortly after, and Joel waited until he could not hear the rockets anymore before transforming himself into his tanuki form. It came with the downside that he had a shulker backpack with his inventory, but it had to do.

He got on all fours and jumped out of the bush, rapidly making his way to Etho’s base through an open window. If anything, he should have flown in through the caving roof. He spared a glance, cringing at the purpur blocks, only reminded of that conversation with Pearl. That was past, and now was now, which was sneaking down Etho’s base as quickly as he could. Knowing him, he had no doubt Etho would come back suddenly after having forgotten something.

Graciously, he kept his eyes down, high enough to see where he was going but careful to not peek at any new thing. And maybe he should explore, after putting the shulker down, Etho would be none the wiser at finding a random tanuki at his base. Sure, he would probably hear some teasing about sending a spy or something, a little guy to keep track of him, but that would be easier to wave off than having to explain that he had a room in Etho’s base. A secret room. A room that we would be furnishing, a room that he was making way too cozy. It hit him randomly that maybe he wanted to move in.

He walked right into the wall for that, which he felt he deserved.

The contents of the shulker rattled when he fell back, his tail caught at a weird angle that made him grimace. He let out a manly squeak of pain, still quiet in case someone else was around to prank Etho, or who knows, maybe someone else decided to move in too. That thought made him feel unwarrantedly jealous. Bothered by a non-existent (that he knew of) hermit. This was a very bad idea, much too stupid and idiotic with too high risk with… an equally high reward.

He did miss their nights together on the Relation, even if he never really hunkered down to talk about it with him.

That, too, was annoyingly frustrating. All that emotional, sappy feelings thing. Etho’s fault. All of it. If anything, Etho should have invited him to spend the night, many nights in fact, because they were former soulmates and now…

Joel looked up at the mailbox, at the light, an odd ache cruising through his chest because he knew none of the mail was from him. He should reach out too, even if Etho should more. Because he was a catch, and Etho was lucky to have been his soulmate… even if he was not sure if Etho felt that way. He had felt lucky to team with him, and might have joked about it once or twice, though Etho had never…

This was stupid. His tail thumped behind him, and he forced himself to his paws, ignoring the pain on his nose, resuming his journey. The sooner he dropped off the things, the sooner he could leave. Back to Magic Mountain, back to the people who had actually asked him to base with them. They wanted him, so it made sense to return the sentiment. He was wanted in Magic Mountain, not here.

The stone tunnel was cold, artificially bright and cold. Worse on his paws, but it had to do. The fake wall swished open and he dashed in, dropping the shulker in front of him. It took a couple minutes to move the items to the chest, deciding that he would sort it out another time, when his feelings and his head stopped being absolutely useless about Etho. The shulker shrunk, enough that it actually looked like something someone his size could carry around comfortably. He pressed his face to it and pushed it out of the way, just outside the hidden room, looking back to admire it for a moment. If Etho found out, he would probably tear it down. Send a letter teasing him and that would be it. Deeply, he wished Etho would not find out about it, foolishly feeling like they still had a connection this way. Maybe when he felt braver he would snuck in and spend the night, they would sleep under the same roof one more time.

Of course, he would have to leave before sunrise.

He turned around, feeling pathetic and stupid, small hiccups catching in the back of his throat as he fought back the tears. His tail dragged behind him, the shulker so much heavier on his back than earlier. He thought about staying inside to cry his eyes out, let Etho find him and just cut this dumb bit early.

Instead of Etho, however, a white fox found him as he climbed back to the main house. It sat with its forelegs in front of it, tail curled around its paws, almost like a statue but it tilted its head, ears flickering with the movements. It stared, and Joel stared back at it, frozen mid-step.

Neither made a sound, staring for what felt like eternities, until the fox uncurled its tail. Slowly, Joel watched it get up, elegant and graceful, intentionally slow. Then he shrieked when the fox jumped him, instinctively fighting back. The straps of the shulker snapped, rolling off somewhere as they rolled too. He had an advantage with grip, but the fox seemed all too worried about using its jaw, biting on his limbs and tail where he could, ducking almost… un-animal-like.

After a couple minutes of scuffling, the fox managed to pin him on his tummy, both fore paws on his back, a hind leg on his tail and the other on the floor for balance. Joel fought, for two seconds before becoming batter on the floor, a sudden wave of defeat washing over him. A sniff escaped him, brief but loud enough to be noticed. The fox pressed its snout on his neck, nuzzling before the weight grew, more and more before the fox stepped back. Soon enough, he was free, still too sad to move, only doing so because the fox grabbed him and turned him over.

But foxes could not grab with hands.

Joel looked up almost startled to find Etho, of course it was Etho. He had seen him transform into his fox form, plenty in Double Life, not so much after, and only a handful times during his brief visits on Hermitcraft during the Decked Out 2 event. It was not something Etho liked to do, but… but had admitted to feeling compelled too when their souls were bound.

It had been a while, then, if he had forgotten how the fox looked like.

Slowly, involuntarily, he transformed back in Etho’s lap. His arms still holding him despite the change in size.

“Hi,” Etho whispered, and Joel heard the grin with the matching crinkled eyes. His reply lacked as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around his neck tight. Etho held him too, almost as tightly, but not quite because he was much stronger than him after all. He breathed in stutters, trying to hold the sobs down and half-succeeding. “What were you doing here, huh? Pranking me?”

“Something like that,” he said, shaky but he said it. Etho’s chin landed on his shoulder, a nice pressure that quieted his mind a little.

“Yeah? Going to blow me up? Or are you going to slowly replace my roof? Or, maybe, you are the distraction.”

“I wanted to see you.”

There it was. The truth. The admission. No longer in Joel’s hands, no longer for him to worry or think about. He had to shut the anxiety of rejection, the fear that he might have made this awkward, that he had ruined whatever thing they had. This was it, then, Etho would never want to see him again. No more bits, no more mail, no more pranks. Nothing. This was it, their final interaction without another hermit. Him in Etho’s lap, on the verge of crying his eyes out while his hidden room remained (hopefully) undetected. Like losing everything all over again. When they had died on that trapped portal, when their soul became two again.

At least he could hug him a final time, which was nice. He would remember this hug forever. And that memory would remind him that his arms would never feel full ever again either, which was not as nice.

“Funny,” Etho laughed against his neck, breath hot and tingling against his skin, a smile on his lips also pressed on his skin, lips, a kiss, then another, slowly nibbling up to under his ear, “I was just going to fly over and find you.”

Joel choked between a laugh and a sob, screwing his eyes shut and scrunching the collar of his coat in his hands tight, burying further into him like he never wanted to let go, like he wanted to be one again like before. “You… are so obsessed with me… It… You’re so pathetic, Eefo.”

“You’re one to point fingers,” Etho giggled, tugged at his tail, making him let out a startled squeak before thumbing his tail hard, “soulmate.”

_____

me when boat boys: goes absolutely insane with wpm i have no bias. absolutely none. i dont, and will never have favorites i would ramble more, but i have none brain with left silly

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #smalletho #boat boys #ethoslab #smallishbeans

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cloverjelly · 6 months

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life series duos as songs!

3 - boat boys (etho and joel) - chandelier by will paquin

song analysis under the cut !

-i know you'll never be mine / can you come around tonight / and sing me a lullaby? / just take my heart and break it - this is pretty joel-centric, since although he knew that etho kinda moved on from dl, he still holds out hope and has a soft spot for him (ie. kinda? headcanon but i like to think joel couldve killed etho when he did that boogey kill, but didnt bc hes etho)

-i might be the enemy / but nothing quite hits like you - despite the fact that etho and joel were major opps during liml, i think the fact that they had history meant that their interactions (even when they were threatening/actively killing eachother) were special and basically always referenced dl in some way. said history kinda makes them more than basic enemies, if that makes sense (esp. if you buy that a lot of joel’s hostility towards etho was out of jealously/yearning, so if him and etho were a pair again they didnt need to be enemies anymore)

-oh, write me a song and i'll try to forget it - the fact that these two were SO dedicated to one another in dl and, like, expressed their love for one another in extreme/violent ways makes their liml dynamic a lot sadder, esp considering how both parties reference dl when talking to one another. i think both etho and joel remember whatever mess they were in dl, but the season is over and they don’t really know how to move on (which causes etho to pretend like he doesnt rly know joel and for joel to be rly aggressive towards etho)

-and as my patience, starts to dry / and my feelings skid across the sand / they’ll know that you’ve won / and ill run back to where i came from - i think this represents the end of liml/secret life, when etho and joel both kinda start acting normal towards each other (mostly hc, but i would say etho bc he found other/better people and joel bc he just lost hope and moved on). its not clear who “wins” since both parties got pretty affected from what happened, but they can both go to their normal lives (where they “came from”)

-(not song related) i wanted to be intentional about the lighting in this, so i made it hit the string of the fishing rod (for obvious reasons, the fishing rod represents the transition from the duo using it together for fun/bonding to etho using it to kill joel in liml) and joel's hands/knuckles, which are bloody and messed up, showing his fighter energy lol. the light also hits the bread patch on joel's jacket (representing the bread bad boys alliance). the smaller beam of light shows etho's tie (representing team ties) and his hands, which are clean, since joel fought way more for etho's attention in liml than etho did for him imo

(ps. its been a while huh.. thanks for sticking around :-) )

#call me a magician bc i just made angst out of nothing #life smp #traffic smp #limited life #double life #boat boys #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #jelly jar

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eluminium · 1 month

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WOOO! WE MADE IT LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN AND OUTSIDE! SKIZZ WEEK 2 DAY 7!!! YIPPIE! Can't believe I managed to actually get all the days! Crazy ngl. As your reward, and mine, have some Imp and Skizz being silly and dancing with each other. Is it platonic or romantic? Eh, that's up to your interpretation.

AS ALWAYS BUT DIFFERENT, thank you to @skizzlemanweek for organizing this round of Skizz Week! It was really fun to do! You better go to their blog and look at the other Skizz Week 2 creations when you're done here!

Prompt 7: Free day!

It's not often Skizz finds himself in an environment like this. Specifically, he hasn't been at an off-server party in lord knows how long. He got most of his partying out of his system by the time he was 25, if not even earlier. So excuse him if he's a bit rusty, he's doing his best. His best being standing on the sidelines with a glass of overly fancy strong cider in his hand and watching the whippersnappers have fun on the dance floor. The noise of people having fun and partying is music to his ears, if a bit loud. Above him, beautiful light shows play out in the dark sky to the beat of the generic but still bopping music discs the DJ is playing. The massive and beautifully decorated Decision Dome stands proudly in the background.

He's honestly grateful that they're outside, not just because of the beautiful view but because it keeps the temperature comfortable. Back in his day, they used to party in whatever run-down shack they could find, and those turned into SAUNAS by the end. And they were TIGHT too, which sucked for a guy like him, with his clumsily large wing span. Said wings puff up at the memory and he makes sure to stretch them out just to bask in the fact that he has enough personal space to do that without knocking someone flat on their ass! It may not be fully fair to compare those parties to this one though, considering this isn't just some random party. This is the afterparty of one of the biggest events in the multiverse. MCC. Of course, it would be a bit fancier!

Skizz brings the glass to his lips and takes a tasteful sip. The refreshing taste of pear hits his tastebuds gracefully, hiding the mild but fulfilling taste of popped chorus fruit. The alcohol leaves its familiar burn as he swallows, his eyes wandering back to the dance floor. It's like a little rainbow in there, everyone's color-coordinated outfits blending together into a light show of its own. Various wings, tails, ears, horns, antlers, and other distinguishing features stick out of the crowd, clearly enjoying the opportunity to stretch out as much as Skizz. He can't help but smile, a sappy happiness rising in his chest at the sight. Although that may be the alcohol making him soft.

"Hey man, you thinkin' about something nice?"

Skizz looks to his side and meets a pair of kind chocolate brown eyes and a teasing grin. "Nah, not really Dipple Dop. Just enjoying the moment," he responds, patting the spot next to him. Impulse takes the hint and sits down next to him, a fresh new drink in his clawed grip. His second that night, surprisingly.

"Where's Top? Did he decide to head home with Etho?" Skizz asks when he notices a lack of firey hair anywhere nearby. Impulse takes a sip of his drink before he answers.

"No, he's still here. He got caught in a conversation with Cub about Railroad Rush. They're in the Dome, by the bar, if you're wondering."

"Aha, I see," Skizz responds with a nod. A little bit of pride hits him at the information. Usually, Tango avoids busy social events like the plague. It's nice to hear that he decided to stay a bit longer! As for Etho, there's no convincing him. He dipped as soon as it was socially acceptable. Mysterious as always, although maybe it's because many of the players here are Etho fans. Sounds like his worst nightmare to be stuck in a conversation with people who admire him and are probably drunk. Maybe he should consider not being as awesome then, but Skizz digresses.

Suddenly, a very familiar sound reaches his ears. Specifically, a song. He can't help but snort.

"Oh my god." Impulse says with a surprised and slightly flustered laugh as he also realizes what song they're playing.

It's an oldie, but a goodie. A tune from when they were but naive teenagers. But it's not the song itself that tickles Skizz's funnybone. It's the fact that, with this song, comes a specific dance that was all the rage back then. A partner dance. If you wanted a girlfriend, or a boyfriend back then, this was what you practiced to perfection before you took them to the club.

Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday! How a soft-faced Impulse timidly approached him and asked him to be his practice dummy for the dance because he wasn't satisfied with just practicing it in front of a mirror and he really wanted to impress this one girl. And of course, a younger Skizz helped him out, after laughing at him for a minute for being such a cheesy romantic. He remembers every attempt, every re-try, and that's impressive because there were a LOT of them. Bless his best friend and his need for perfection.

Skizz meets Impulse's gaze again, and it's clear that he also had the exact same flashback. Skizz can't help but giggle, a giggle that turns into a full-blown laugh as Impulse covers his face with his hand.

"I'm never escaping this! It haunts me!" He exclaims as he takes a deep swig from his drink like a depressed alcoholic detective in a mystery movie.

Skizz has to wipe a tear from his eye with how hard he's laughing. "Come on, dude! You got SO good at it! You were great!"

Impulse gives him a playful glare. "Oh yeah, I got SO good at it, huh?" He shoots back, his voice dripping with salty sarcasm, which causes another bout of cackling from Skizz.

"It's not your fault she was a lesbian! If she wasn't I'm sure you would have had her smitten with your dance skills!" He knows he's rubbing salt in a decades-old closed-up wound but in his defense, it's funny.

Impulse struggles to hold his faux seriousness in the face of a torrent of Skizzleman laughing. "God, I still can't believe I didn't know! I was so in love yet I couldn't figure out something so obvious!" He says with a barely repressed snort.

Skizz's laughing eventually dies back down into giggling. "Come on, you were both still cool with each other after that! No harm, no foul."

"Yeah, except my dignity," Impuse quips in an overly whiney and weepy tone.

Skizz rolls his eyes fondly. "Shut up, man!" He fires back. They both giggle and Skizz takes a gulp of his cider. A comfortable silence settles between them as they both look back to the dance floor. Multiple people have paired up with each other for the song. Others have created some sort of three-people version of the dance. One is even a group of five! Makes sense that the dance has evolved to be more casual as the years have gone by. Now not just couples and potential couples get to enjoy it, but friends too!

However, there is one difference Skizz spots that he's less than impressed by.

"Wow, they kinda suck at this." Impulse dryly comments before Skizz can even say anything. He can't help but laugh at Impulse's uncharacteristically sharp observation. The booze is getting to him for sure.

"What, you think us old farts can do it better?" He pokes back with a raised eyebrow.

Impulse splutters a bit, borderline offended at the mere suggestion. "Yeah, obviously! They don't even know where their feet are!"

Skizz is content to laugh it off at this point. The song is basically over by now, so it's not like they'll get a chance to prove-

The sudden cries of "ENCORE! ENCORE! ENCORE!" force him to reevaluate. Well, that changes things quite drastically!

"You wanna go put your money where your mouth is, Dipple Dop?" He jokingly says, pretty sure he's gonna need more than just that if he wants to convince Impulse of anything. He has to swallow his prejudice when he meets Impulse's gaze one more time. His best friend's face is flushed from the alcohol, and his eyes are a bit glazed over. But even more terrifyingly, he can see that familiar glint of competitiveness in his eyes as well. And if Skizz is honest with himself, he can feel the buzz of his own drink clouding his brain. He's ready to make some questionable decisions.

Impulse doesn't even respond, he simply slams the rest of his drink, places the glass down, and starts walking towards the dance floor, tail whipping back and forth. Skizz quickly slams his own and follows him.

They get there just in time for the encore to start. Impulse lunges to grab Skizz's hands in time so they don't miss the rhythm. Skizz raises an amused eyebrow at his best friend's antics, and he gets an unimpressed look in return. Impulse's slightly scaled hands rub up against Skizz's scarred ones, but it's a feeling Skizz is extremely familiar with. It's like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Then the melody starts, and it's off to the races.

Skizz can't lie and say he isn't impressed by both himself and Impulse's ability to remember the motions. Moving around each other almost feels subconscious, each sway to the left and right perfectly timed. At first, they're both looking down at their feet to make sure they aren't stomping on something important, but they quickly realize they don't need to. Their gazes slowly connect instead, and a dumb goofy smile graces Impulse's face. Skizz feels himself responding with just as stupid of an expression, but he can't help it. It's like he's back in that memory again, except without any teenage awkwardness.

One step left, two steps right, twirl back around, two hands connected reaching for the stars above. It's silly, really. Two middle-aged men dancing in a crowd where the max age is early thirties, to an old love song, with a dance originally meant for wooing potential partners, after competing in the biggest competitive event in the multiverse. But Skizz never cared about useless details like that. He's having fun with his best friend, m'kay? And they're smoking the competition at the same time!

Skizz eventually gets lost in the motions, lost in orbiting around his other half in long-ago practiced steps. For all he cares, the only things that exist to him right now are Impulse, the music, and the ground they're standing on. His best friend's familiar marrone eyes keep his blue ones locked, and the few times their bodies graze each other in the dance it causes a certain softness in Skizz's heart to spike. Impulse's hand in his is solid, but the hold is gentle, casual, despite the energy in their motions. But eventually, the song starts winding down, each step taking them closer to the end. As the singer lets out the final words, and the instruments their final notes, their right hands detach and fly out behind them. At the same time, both their right feet take a step backward. They strike the final pose perfectly.

The song ends, and the new one that plays plunges Skizz right back into reality. Oh my god, he doesn't remember being this tired afterward! He lets go of Impulse's hand to place both his hands on his knees so he can try and regain his breath. Impulse seemingly has the same idea, but he also has the brain cells to grab Skizz by the shoulder and lead them out of the crowd and off the dance floor. They both crash on a nearby bench.

"I am so sweaty dude, holy moly" Impulse exclaims as he wipes his forehead.

"That was fun though, man!" Skizz responds between his huffing. Impulse gives him an acknowledging noise, but not much more.

Suddenly, someone is applauding.

"Wow, didn't know you guys could dance like that!"

Skizz looks up to see Jojo.

"Thanks, Junior Shabado," He says with a kind smile. "What he said," Impulse adds on.

"Maybe next time we have a training session, you could teach me!" She adds on, a slight slur to her words. Skizz has to fight for his life to not start laughing.

"Yeah, I'm sure Impulse would love to pass down the tradition!"

The unexplainable noise that Impulse emits at his suggestion will fuel him for the decades to come.

(What he'll also be fueled by was that someone managed to record them dancing and posted it online. Sober Impulse's flustered but still proud reaction was nothing short of glorious. Because yes, as the comments on the clip point out many times, they really did SLAY the competition.)

#skizzleman #skizz week 2 #skizz week 2 day 7 #impulsesv #mcc #my writing #skizzpulse #<- tagging for safety #once again you decide if it's platonic or romantic #ANYWAYS CHEER FOR ME #I FINALLY MANAGED TO FINISH A CHALLANGE #LETS GOOOOOOO #YEAHHHH

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minecraftbookshelf · 1 month

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Traffic Life Scars: Ethoslab

All updates will be made to this post specifically as we get new seasons and new final deaths.

Welcome to my series of MS Paint diagrams following the headcanon/concept that every minecraft death leaves a scar, and while most of those do not continue past the end of the server, the final deaths leave permanent marks on the cubito. (And also some other deaths that have significant impact on the story, the cubito, or both, these are extremely rare.) I did take some creative license with the deaths, mostly in the sense of figuring out how to handle Fall Damage in a slightly more realistic context, as well as figuring out approximately where final blows would land based on the respective positioning of the cubitos in question. This project has also shown some interesting patterns in how some of them tend to die. On with the show!

The fact that Etho isn't even the worst off.

Third Life: Etho died to fire damage dealt by Impulse during the Battle of Dogwarts. I chose the location based off the direction the attack that initially caught him on fire came from.

Last Life: Joel killed Etho before dying himself when the later-game red lifers banded together to take out him and Grian. Etho struggled with his shield during that confrontation, which let Joel get enough hits in to kill him before being killed immediately after by Scott. I placed that injury as a glancing blow off the top rim of his shield.

Double Life: Etho and Joel died to a lava-trapped nether portal. The scars are from the lava flow. Etho died first, so his scars are a bit more prominent than Joel's.

Limited Life: Etho (like so, so many other people this season) died to fall damage. He was fighting the Mean Gills on the edge of the Bad Boy Manor and lost his balance. The "camera angle" of the ground as he fell is pretty much how i decided where the impact probably was.

Secret Life: Scar killed him by catching up and passing him via enderpearl as he fled to "die in my home." A combination of the high ground and whatever Scar was on that session got Scar the win very quickly. The scar for this one is a sword strike that lines up almost perfectly with the scar Etho already had that is part of his skin. (The Kakashi Scar) At least that one will be covered by the mask. I guess.

[Bdoubleo100] [Bigbst4tz2] [Geminitay] [GoodTimesWithScar] [Grian] [ImpulseSV] [InTheLittleWood] [LDShadowlady] [Mumbo Jumbo] [PearlescentMoon] [Rendog] [Skizzleman] [Smajor1995] [Smallishbeans] [SolidarityGaming] [TangoTek] [ZombieCleo]

SERIES TAG

#rain rambles #traffic life scar series #ethoslab #life series #trafficblr #third life smp #last life smp #double life smp #limited life smp #secret life smp

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canarydarity · 2 years

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Tango hadn’t quite yet wrapped his mind around the fact that he was here. Having done it now three times before didn’t make starting over any easier, didn’t make the game any less terrifying. He tried not to let his eyes stray to the timer perpetually counting down in the corner of his vision, but it didn’t matter—each beat of his heart was a second, and his pulse was keeping time even if he was trying not to.

Tango thrust the shovel back into the ground, the dirt on their island moist and clumpy instead of crumbling and dry, and resolutely ignored the reminder that this game—like all the others—would likely end with him fertilizing this very ground. He wasn’t really expecting to win. Tango had no idea why it was that he was here.

“Oh, it’s Joel!” Etho called from the other end of their small patch of land, and the call sounded like a warning. At first, Tango was thinking about how you almost wouldn’t believe the two had been soulmates last time, but as he thought about it, he changed his mind; what is a soulmate but he who knows and understands you best of all? If Etho’s call was a warning, it was because he knew Joel demanded one.

He hadn’t looked up, but the waves made by Etho’s boat washed further up the shore toward the ground Tango was terraforming, and he shuffled a step or two to the side in distaste. He hated the water; it always made him feel…extinguished.

“I can’t believe you’ve replaced me with a cow, Etho!”

Tango snorted. No offense to Joel, but he could. It was probably more telling of Etho though than his spurned ex-soulmate.

Tango pulled his shovel out of the ground, tossing its contents off to the side. He primed to dig into the ground again.

“Hey guys, are you setting up here, by the way?”

He stopped. Tango knew that voice—he spent weeks obtaining fluency in its passive anxiety, in the undertones of worry about doing something wrong.

He had no trouble finding Jimmy; Tango simply looked up and he was there, one hand in his pocket, the other scratching the back of his neck like he did when he was feeling unsure. His face was scrunched in a kind of wince and his eyes shifty, but this too was not unusual for him. The familiarity hit Tango like a truck—no, that wasn’t enough. What hit harder than a truck?

He hadn’t seen Jimmy since…

Since when? Since they’d watched Scar get eaten by zombies? Since they got separated in the commotion of having succeeded in leveling the playing field of green names and changing targets? Since whatever last brush of shoulders or arms or hands occurred before he fell to his knees, alone, on the doorstep of the boat Joel and Etho argued over now only a few feet away?

“Cause…we’re the bad boys and we were gonna set up here.” Jimmy finished awkwardly, trying to sound firm and falling flat; the phrase came off like it was said by a kid who was threatening you with a toy sword but acting like he could use it to deal you some good damage.

Tango raised an eyebrow; it took him only a second later to realize that he was smiling (he wondered when that had started). Bad boys, huh? One guess as to where that name came from—but Tango couldn’t let his gaze stray from Jimmy to lay eyes on Joel; he heard him and Etho bickering in the background, but it breached not a thought in Tango’s mind.

He wanted to laugh, or—no, he wanted to play scared; he wanted to double over and fake being in pain like anyone should do when pretend stabbed by a kid playing with things he couldn’t understand.

But Joel was still yelling and Etho was still taunting, and the division between this little island and the hill across the water was clear. Tango dropped his shovel and wiped his hands off on his pants so he didn’t do anything stupider.

Skizz and Impulse giggled and laughed about Jimmy’s claims, but Jimmy seemed none the wiser; stopping to place a furnace and quickly cook some steak; glancing over his shoulder, glancing at those on the island, glancing at Joel. These games always made him jumpy, Tango knew that.

Tango hadn’t looked away, which was how he knew Jimmy’s gaze didn’t land on him once.

It was Etho that caught his attention at last. “No! Don’t you dare…”

Tango scrambled up the slant he was working on to see Etho on the other side rowing away, cow in tow, and Joel smirking on the edge of the sand, arrow notched. There was not a second more of observation before he let it fly and it made its mark.

Tango whined at the loss; of course, Joel had no way of knowing just how hard a time they’d been having with their bovine friends, but even if he had, he’d likely just have laughed.

“YES!” he heard Joel scream, jumping around in the sand; a sore-winner he definitely was.

Tango was already skidding down the side of their island and into the water when Joel shouted again, “Jimmy, run!”

He heard his soulmates cry of “wait wait wait!” but wasted no glance backward as he climbed up onto the mainland, shaking water out of his hair as he did; steam evaporated off of him as droplets flew.

“Hey!” Tango shouted after Joel, though he clearly only had eyes for antagonizing Etho. “that took us 30 minutes to find!”

Tango was knocked over from behind before he got the chance to see if he’d managed to get through to Joel at all (this was probably for the best, as he definitely hadn’t). He felt the fine gravel of the sand dig into his palms where he caught himself, but he barely registered the tick of damage from the shove and subsequent collapse; not like he felt it from the realization of who it had come from.

Eyes wide and blinking like he couldn’t believe what it was he’d done either, there was Jimmy, only a few feet away. His chest heaved from the running, but he was otherwise still, half turned towards where Tango kneeled on the ground, half turned towards where Joel was running off into the woods.

Neither of them looked away. Tango felt his health regenerate, but he didn’t think he believed it. Sure, he was at full hearts, but then why did he feel like the sand beneath him was shifting and making space for his burial; had Grian coded in some sort of quicksand?

Tango used their hesitation to process the fact that this hit hadn’t harmed them both; he knew logically that it shouldn’t have, but the experience was something else entirely; the feeling somewhat akin to grief.

“C'mon, Jimmy,” fell out of the trees to which Jimmy’s back was turned, and Tango watched him tense as the sound reached them both. Also behind him and to their right was Etho climbing out of his boat, feet touching down on the shore, path ahead pre-determined.

Jimmy broke their eye contact only to close his eyes, and when he opened them again he swallowed and said “sorry, rancher,” feet beginning to backpedal. It was quiet enough that Tango could believe it just for him, and that implication of not wanting anyone else to hear shoveled the last of the dirt on Tango’s corpse, surely, it had to. Jimmy didn’t turn away—not until he stumbled and absolutely had to, not being able to risk the danger of walking backwards anymore.

Tango rubbed his hands on his pants, feeling the sand and stray pebbles peel themselves from the indents they’d created in his palms upon impact, scrambling to his feet to follow. He bent only to scoop up a rock on his way.

Even just inside the first row of trees, the forest was a different place entirely. The beach fell away, but the scene change didn’t do anything to turn the tide of their circumstances. Tango stopped just behind Etho, caught up just in time to hear:

“Everything precious you have in this series, Joel, it’ll be taken from you, you understand?”

Joel didn’t look concerned. He was still smirking, still playing up the part of the bitter ex (and seemingly getting too much enjoyment out of it, for Tango's liking). It was just like Joel to enjoy the breakup more than the relationship.

Jimmy was further away, half behind Joel and resolutely avoiding looking in Tango’s direction; he was always hiding behind things he was taller than. Tango remembered when Jimmy’s go-to source of cover used to be him.

Joel just rolled his eyes, a scoff his only response. He placed both hands on Jimmy and pushed, jumpstarting him into moving. Tango somehow managed to resist the urge to narrow his eyes further. He dropped the rock he was holding—he felt stupid for grabbing it now; it wasn’t like he was going to throw it; it wasn’t like he was capable.

Bad boys they’d said; the Jimmy that Tango remembered had been kind. Maybe he had to rework his definition of a soulmate; he didn’t think he wanted to.

Etho turned too, having done what he’d intended. Tango felt more so than saw Etho pat him on the shoulder as he passed. He didn’t need to look at his timer to know that not even 3 minutes had passed.

“Yeah, I’m with you, Etho,” he said—but he was still staring off into the trees. He watched until Joel and Jimmy had woven too far into them to be visible anymore, but Jimmy didn’t turn back once.

#hey guys i havent thought about anything besides jimmy hitting tango for days hahaha #happy belated gay minecraft birthday to me amiright #worm writes #limited life spoilers #limited life #limited life fic #team rancher #boat boys #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #tangotek #tango tek #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #etho #ethoslab #team rancher fic #life series fic

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ladyevol · 6 months

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Congratulations on 420k+ for the donation stream! To celebrate, I finally finished some designs of the character for my Celestial Winner AU so I will be posting them here, starting with the best boy Scar Goodtimes! If you have not donated yet, make sure to do so! I will be posting Grian tomorrow if we can reach the goal by then :>

More information under the cut!

Scar Goodtimes, son of Etho and originally adopted by Cleo after his father abandoned him (or so he renembers), Scar is the most cheerful of all of the Winners by a long shot and he exudes both charisma and whimsy. He is known for being rather clumsy and his easygoing personality often leads to people underestimating him, however, behind his smiles and boyish charms is a merciless killer with an aim like very few and a taste for blood.

Scar was given the Soul of the Earth, represented by the symbol always seem floating above his head and acts as one of the winners of the life series as well as one of the assassins/hunters of the Watchers, even if he hasn't had his first mission yet. He is one of the two winners with access to magic due to the fact that he is a Vex hybrid. His magic in particular is known as Death Magic and uses EXP acquired from killing creatures to shape the world. While he normally requires a wheelchair to move around, he can use Death Magic to be able to walk for a limited time.

Scar remembers originally joining the Life Games to get revenge on his father for what he did to him, not expecting to win at all, and yet finding himself as the last one standing anyway. He spent two months alone in his world until it was finally deleted, and the vessel was nearly destroyed with it, only to be rescued at the last second by the watcher Xelqua. Now, he is more interested in making friends than actually becoming stronger, but he is happy to do whatever job the Watchers give him as long as he doesn't need to be alone again

As a child, Scar was hit by a lightning which gave him his signature scar from which comes his nickname. He is scared of snakes, clowns and being alone.

#mcyt #gtws #secret life #secret life smp #traffic series #trafficblr #goodtimeswithscar #celestial winners au

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gnashingwailing · 6 months

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Kept notes on a reread I was doing of The Art of Love and War because I am so obsessed with the gay little borrower darkfic... sharing with u @fireflywritesgt

it falls apart at ch12 because that is where i consistently turn into a puddle under my covers kicking my legs and making sounds only audible to shrimps.

I HOPE THIS IS A SMALL TOKEN OF APPRECIATION FOR HOW GUD THIS FIC IS, SINCERELY... LIKE I SAID PUTTING THIS IN SOMEBODY'S INBOX IS PROBABLY A WAR CRIME. SO.

There is soooo muuuuch I want to saaaay. I did a reread and excuse my being verbose but.

Ch10 where Harry reads about how tinies don’t ask for things and prefer to do favors for them — how extra insulting that makes his message in Ch1!! “Just ask” no wonder Joe was so pissed!!

ALSO him feeling “dirty, somehow” about accepting chocolate that didn’t kill him… was he having a little bit of feelings for “the kind man” and it got transmuted into self-loathing… 😭 oh internalized homophobia tag we’re really in it now…

Re: ch2 I would kill for Joe’s pov of this… I’m also so fascinated to pick up the detail that Joe apparently talked to himself regularly, for Harry to hear him through the radiator pipes… one assumes Joe doesn’t have guests. Poor guy! He’s really smart! He likes talking! The assistant job is perfect for himmmm.

Re: ch3, i wonder how much Captain Calloway’s “if you die it’s your own damn fault” has influenced Joe’s life ethos of fucking around and finding out (btw… Harry would be sooo horrified to know Joe had been poisoned 3 times and still tried that chocolate 😭 yet another fun! anecdote of his) … im also kinda curious about Gutters. What’s that guy’s deal. And OF. COURSE. How Captain got all his injuries. It’s also so very sad he feels this tension with the guys, what they’d do to him if they knew more about who he really was. I love this as a metaphor for homophobia…

Ch5 I’m still fixated on the giants who are guarding the place. Hundreds of tinies going there every day… you’d think there’d be snatchers all over the place 👀 and the other great worldbuilding… lab tinies… “they were corralling everyone everywhere and the women and kids went one way…” GOD. also them building tiny capitalism plus tiny race science is just 😭😭😭 noooo… the way Harry reinforces their shared dignity and humanity by showing genuine interest in Joe’s art.. ouuuugh it hits every time.

ALSO I WAS SO SUSPICIOUS OF HILL WHEN I FIRST READ CH6 BUT NOW THST I KNOW HE IS A BONA FIDE WIFEGUY ALL IS REDEEMED. I AM so curious as to why he keeps tiny town schematics in his office if he dislikes it…

Ch7 profoundly funny to me how Hill is like “miniature is the academic term” and Joe is like what. Tinies.

I really appreciate how Harry started off having some uh. Idk. Colonizer savior complex stuff + noble savage ideas about Joe? Like “oh it’s in mother nature’s hands whether he survives then… I see…” as if the tinies social constructs about Pets are some immutable fact of nature instead of. A social construct !! It’s really well-done, how you show him gradually understanding that he needs to listen to Joe, not assume he knows what’s best for him just because he read a 50yr old anthropology book!! It makes me love Harry all the more that he managed to grow through it out of fondness for Joe 🥺

AND OF COURSE. THE G/T GOODNESS. My god. I loooooove that Joe is so creeped out by giants that he has to keep his eyes closed to stomach it… just feels. Hmm. Realistic?? It would be so overwhelming. I love that his trust gets rewarded with the doctor not hurting him…

The rapport they establish being based on talking to one another… it’s just suuuuch a perfect central theme for this story… Joe being able to tame Harry’s anger by reminding him of Joe’s own humanity. “Please don’t do that, doc. This is mean. You’re being mean.” And “you’re treating me like I’m not even… not even…” UGH. RENT FREE IN MY HEAD, WARREN. “Maybe he could do it; maybe he could sit in the same room as a giant for five minutes. He would only have to do it once, and then he would never have to do it again, he reasoned.” Bitch u thought… get loved and cared for idiot…

Joe asking him “why not”, echoing Harry’s words that stuck with him…

And then him being sooo pissed at the phone it’s just absolutely amazing stuff. Wagging his finger at it/Dr Hill lmaooo. I was hootin and hollerin when I realized this foreshadows him being the assistant!!! He can talk on the phone just fine!!!!

His legs threatening to give way from the prospect of Harry seeing him at ground level after he escapes using the phone receiver… ouuugh. It’s SO GOOD. He’s come such a long way…

“Touching every wooden beam he passed for good luck” is INCREDIBLY cute mental imagery.., he’s happy… poor guy has awful luck tho so Harry is just pissed 😭 HIM NEARLY DESTROYING THE PLATES BECSUSE HARRY SCARED HIM SO BAD HAD ME FEELING.. SOME KIND OF WAY…

Ch8 also has the first mention of Joe’s books… I’m sooo curious where he got these.. did he perhaps make them…? 👀 YEAH HARRY SHOULD FEEL LIKE A MONSTER THO. YOU TERRORIZED A LIL MOVIE STAR!!! HE ONLY BROKE A FEW THINGS… Making him hide under his covers like he saw a monster… 😭

I love their first god awful handshake lmao. Incredible subversion of the usual g/t first meetings… Joe’s just like OK 👋 NOW GET THAT THANG OUTTA HERE

And then Joe going “I know about that!” Joe protested, his voice growing stronger. “It’s up to me, doc. If it happens, it happens and it’ll be my own damn fault.” … something tells me when Harry finally comes to understand Joe’s recklessness with his own life and what feelings about its worth may be underpinning that, he will be so sad 😔

Joe losing his toes to frostbite… realizing that could very likely be from when he was kidnapped and enslaved with O’Grady… uuuugh he’s so brave to want to connect with anybody at all let alone with Harry!!

Ch9 professor wifeguy moments… yesss… I love that he wants to hang out with another tiny too 😭 Joe is making friends!! I can’t wait to find out about Lorraine and what “other place” she knows about!!! Lmfao I can tell she’s going to be incredible just from the little bit Joe hears of her. I wonder too if she’s been marked… aahhh I’m so excited to learn more about these two. How interesting of a parallel, too, that Harry noted Dr Hill might also be a former soldier… something-something folks unable to fully integrate into society finding and building community with each other…

Also PROFOUNDLY interested to note on a reread that the tiny town on his wall says “a SAFE place to be” and the one in Riverdale said “a CIVILIZED place to be” 😬 a damn prison indeed… I also really wonder just HOW the tinies are paying their rent(?) to stay there, if they’re all as disdainful of “borrowing” as a career as O’Grady seems to be…

MAY I JUST NOTE that Joe stimming around is sooo charming to me. He’s kickin’ his legs. He’s pacing back and forth. He’s doing something like that in the walls when Harry was first listening to him. I LOVE HIM.. aND I love how this chapter we see him going from “that tall bastard (derogatory)” to “that tall bastard (amused)”

AND POOR JOE ON THE MOST CURSED FIELD TRIP IMAGINABLE. There is much to love here but I absolutely adore this imagery: “Joe buried himself in the curtain as the doctor, dressed to the nines in his work clothes and vaguely resembling a horse in a brown suit, sidled over to him and towered there and seethed.” HE’S TERRIFIED 😭 and Joe learns that other people value his wellbeing more than he does… wow Joe no need to ponder that any further until Ch15!!!

There’s SO much incredible prose in this chapter… the haaaaands oh my god the hands. The tinies are on the order of 2-3 inches tall, right? You really get a vivid sense of how big and dangerous everything is to them… absolutely A+ stuff.

This part also slays me everytime I think about it: “Joe was hidden inside [the pocket], and the thought of how unhinged his dear neighbour must look to his fellow giants as he walked and talked gave him no small amount of delight.” HE WOUUUULD.

The mystery of just what Joe created as a boy… what he can��t find it in himself to articulate… why he can hardly fathom talking about himself and his inner world to anyone …

PART 10… the difference in the way Joe confronts Harry here vs with the assistant in part 16 is somehow heartbreaking to me. I think the anger must just be displacement for how he’s really feeling (worried, uncomfortable…) and he’s more able to show his feelings to Harry with the assistants than he is now… but Joeeeee. I don’t ever want him to feel hopeless with Harry, like he just has to accept whatever he wants 😭 I love him in this chapter… Arms crossed, eyes narrowed… red faced… clawing at the air as he ranted Jdhdhdj GOD HE’S SO ICONIC: ““Nope. Not gonna happen! Veto!” Joe leapt up from the box, strode all the way to the edge of the table, and jabbed a finger at him. “I don’t know what kind of sick, twisted doctor things you intend to do to people but whatever it is, it’s not happening in my house!”” I guess I want him to still be comfortable with yelling veto at Harry lmao!!

And then Joe being like WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOU SAVING ME THE OTHER DAY. THAT MEANS NOTHING TO ME, A WILD AND INDEPENDENT TINY WHO HAD IT ALL UNDER CONTROL, AT ALL.

ALSO: the way he words this, I have a strong suspicion he does not know the word “patients”?! “”Let’s make a deal in exchange for patients. Give me something in exchange for patients.” Joe stammered. “You do that and I won’t make any trouble.””

Harry thinking of Joe as “the little bastard” in counterpoint to Joe’s “the tall bastard” really makes me smile too, hahahah.

AND THE FURTHER G/T TROPE INVERSION… just because he was willing to get in the giant’s hands one time doesn’t mean he’s suddenly fine with it!! I love how pissed they are at each other over this misunderstanding lmfao. He’s 👏 a 👏 wild 👏 tiny 👏 ‼️

And it’s so meaningful to me that the two of them bond more over sharing art with one another… Harry wants to introduce Joe to an amazing piano player… and Joe is so happy!!! The idea for a Charlie Chaplin bit with a rich miniature woman is SO inspired btw, I was as delighted as Joe was 😭 Harry being like “oh shit wait is this offensive” and then Joe just being like “THIS FUCKS SO HARD LMAO IT REALLY DO BE LIKE THAT”

And then the tragic aftermath… Harry NOTICING that he didn’t even know that he was doing anything wrong by bringing Joe there, it just FELT so dreadfully taboo (enough that Hill, who is MARRIED TO A TINY, also seems like he’s been caught doing something wrong when Harry first meets him)…. and then of course society reinforces that fear in a terrible way. Only a shared humanity regarding love of art saves poor Joe.. how lucky he’s gotten enough exposure to be able to speak in the presence of giants. You have to ponder how many tinies just as wonderfully complex as him have died for not having that skill. It’s so very sad!!! THE IMAGERY OF HIM ON THE LAMP LIKE IT’S A STREETCORNER JUST TWISTED THE KNIFE. Your writing really is so excellent, the way you can carry us through so many different emotions… Joe my belovedddd. I’m simply obsessed with the implications of him NAMING HARRY. WHAT IS /THAT/?? And the way that the narration in the story from this point on swaps to using Harry as his name… it speaks VOLUMES without you needing to elaborate on it at all. Joe has changed him! He’s becoming someone he likes better than Herman! A day we had good luck… Harry is good luck… Luck as a concept very different from what giants think of… I am absolutely enamored with how clearly he has a whole other world, another culture, that Harry can only guess at and be grateful to be included in.

JOE GETTING A NICE BATH AND A COMFORTABLE BED IN THIS CHAPTER IS JUST SO WHOLESOME (even if it will torment his Calvinist sensibilities later…) I am also so charmed to imagine how Joe must have woken up and been like “what the FUCK did I do last night. Where the HELL am I 🤨”

And then in Ch11 he’s like I WILL PROCEED NOT TO THINK OF THAT AT ALL. <- clueless

Ch11 is one of my favorites I think… we really get a good glimpse into how much heavy-duty rationalizing Joe is doing LMAO. “Taking food is fine, because I’m just using this tall bastard.” “It’s fine if I have leisure time.” “It’s fine if I like Harry and his company and I miss him when he’s gone and I want to give him a name.” “AS LONG AS I DON’T GET COMFORTABLE ALL OF THIS IS FINE.” This line is such a banger lol: “Joe Piccoli was many things as he went to sleep that night, but he was not a pet, and he was not comfortable.” And then the mouse!!! That Joe decides to draw rather than kill!!! Look at his needs being met!!!!!

IT ALSO ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN KILLED ME WHEN I REALIZED IN THIS CHAPTER THAT THE BOYS HAVE JUST. FULLY LEFT THAT FLOORBOARD OFF LMFAO??? THAT’S HIS SKYLIGHT NOW…

And then. Good god. The arm scene… it’s just. Soooo. 👌👌👌👌 I’m so … 😵‍💫💖❤️‍🔥…

“I’m a wild tiny!” “You’re going to be a dead tiny if that gets infected.” Their dynamic is so fucking funny. AND THE TENDERNESS OF HARRY TOUCHING JOE… Joe being so overwhelmed not exactly with fear but HMMM I WONDER WHAT EMOTION AND WHY HE MIGHT FEEL SO OVERWHELMED HE STILL NEEDS TO CLOSE HIS EYES AND PRETEND HE’S HIDDEN UNDER THE FLOOR AGAIN… 🤔🤔🤔 whyever would the touch of this kind giant make his hair stand on end and make him contemplate the reverence he’s being touched with and leave his cheeks burning… it is a mystery

And then Joe being so afraid the mouse would be hurt because in contrast to the kindness he’s been shown, he still has this long history of awful experiences with giants.. this part in particular made my heart hurt:

“Don’t kill the mouse, Harry, please don’t kill it. It’s just like me. It hasn’t done anything to you.” Joe begged.

Followed by him remembering that this is /Harry, his friend, who he knows/:

“The words hit Joe like the breaking of a spell, and he stood in the kitchen windowsill feeling downright foolish. Of course Harry wouldn’t kill the mouse, Joe realized - of course he wouldn’t do that.”

OUGH. This story is SO delicious I’m beyond obsessed…

The two of them having a much less Charged encounter after Joe has resolved some of his internal conflicts, at least for the moment… chatting away like they’re two normal friends while Harry touches him… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH‼️

Their motorcycle shenanigans… Harry showing Joe his precious Contraption and Joe absolutely hating it omg it was so peak 😭 PLAYING “WHO’S-MORE-BORING CHICKEN”… the way Joe is like “I would rather Die than have to listen to this guy talk about how he’s more exciting than me. Absolutely not.”

I also very much appreciate the foreshadowing of the street car on this re-read…

AND may I say I really love that they went on a little nature trip together!!! I have thought often of the potential of a g/t story set outdoors, where the normal sized person and the tiny are both made small by how all-encompassing the wilderness is. Something to do with camping or backpacking! Maybe something I want to write one day! This gave me a delightful taste of that.

AND ANYWAY THE ACCEPTING OF COMFORT EVEN AS IT FLIES IN THE FACE OF EVERYTHING HE’S BEEN TAUGHT TO ROMANTICIZE AND VALUE… ouuuughhh GET LOVED IDIOT!! GET SEEN AND KNOWN AND TAKEN CARE OF!!!

And then ch12… Harry’s realization that Joe won’t ever bring up anything if it’s just for his own benefit. Which by the way, on a re-read I can appreciate how cleverly you’ve set this up, if I didn’t write that clearly enough before! There’s something cultural there but also, I think, something uniquely Joe that Harry maybe can’t fully see yet. Harry’s watch from his parents breaking down at the same moment he’s trying to change his relationship with Joe, the new most important person in his life (at least I presume! He doesn’t seem to have other close friends/family) … very very good. This sentence is so evocative. Simultaneously funny and sad: “With the way Joe’s eyes shifted from side to side one would think the doctor had suggested they go rob a bank.” It’s very good angst realizing how much Harry is asking of Joe without him even knowing it…

BTW this part is so delightful. They’re so interested in each other!!! “When his footsteps announced his arrival, he could see the tiny’s movements through the missing floorboards as his neighbour crossed the floor and climbed back up to the windowsill above the counter.” <- guy who absolutely has NOT been gotten

“Joe smiling. A rare sight indeed.” JUST…. My heaaaart ‼️‼️

Also hilarious how Joe and now Harry have both had “mmm I do NOT like the way this guy is smiling right now” moments 🤣

GOD tho, Joe’s opening up about getting snatched… much like Harry, it made me feel absolutely beside myself.

^^^ AS YOU CAN SEE. I'VE FULLY FALLEN APART.

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greeenchrysanthemums · 9 months

Text

Etho Goes Home

@terracottakore gave me permission to turn this beautiful art of theirs into writing, and so here it is. Thank you for the opportunity!! 💚

Words: 886

Cw: Blood and death

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

He knew he wasn't going to make it. In fact, he had known from the beginning that he was nothing more than a dead man walking. He had never stood a chance, especially not against the threat that was now advancing on him.

He felt like a wounded rabbit fleeing for it’s life, and Scar the hungry wolf. Outnumbered, outskilled, and entirely out of options, It was all that Etho could do to push his legs a little harder to try and cover the distance between him and his home before it was too late.

Home.

And wasn't that a beautiful word? Home.

Home was where his hand was held in a warm grasp by one who he loved and who loved him in return as they ran through the tall grass in search of constellations and shooting stars to make wishes upon. It was where he was never alone. Where he woke up each morning without fear. Where a warmth blossomed in his chest and his cheeks ached with the smile that graced his seldom shown face. Where he could breathe freely and laugh openly.

Home was that and so much more.

If Etho was to die today, he would not do it on unfamiliar soil. He would do it on the grounds of his own home. That is where he will make his final stand. Not at the bottom of a stone tower that had always been a beacon of death. Not in some dirty, blood soaked lake. And not in the woods where no one would see it. No, he would die in his home.

His breaths came out in uneven pants as he climbed the hill, where the remains of his ransacked home sat on the crest. His side ached, his legs even more so. His wounds throbbed, his heart pounding against strained ribs. His head felt impossibly heavy, as did his limbs, but as he finally breached the property line, his foot touching down onto that familiar grass at last, he couldn't help but feel relief.

He had made it.

And just in time, he thought, as an ender pearl hit the grass in front of him with a deceptively gentle thump. Only moments later, Scar appeared in the pearls place, a terrifying grin on his face as he raised his stained sword over his shoulder with both hands.

"Hello, Etho!" He said in a voice far too cheerful for the situation.

Etho tried in vain to raise his sword in defense of the blow, or to possibly even return it, but it was of no use. He knew it wouldn’t be. He was too weak, too slow. His sword was knocked from his grasp in one motion, and in the next Scar’s own sword was being plunged into Etho’s abdomen.

The diamond blade sank through the flesh of his stomach like he was made of soft butter. He gasped as it was ripped carelessly free, warm blood spraying from the new wound in an almost impressive arch. With trembling hands, he reached up to try and stem the new flow of blood as he stumbled away. He ended up losing his balance and pitching sideways, landing sprawled out in the grass with his arm crushed uncomfortably under his own weight and cheek pressing into the wet grass. Moister rolled down his nose and temple to join the dew - he couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

A loud clap of thunder could be heard, signaling that he had no more fight left in him, and that this was well and truly the end. There was no coming back from the grievous injury. His ears rang as he watched Scar leave him to die, that wide, wide grin never leaving his blood-stained face.

Etho squeezed his eyes shut tight against the pain, breathing rapid and laboured as he forced himself to turn over onto his back, a hand uselessly clutching his stomach in an attempt to hold himself together just a little bit longer.

Blood bubbled up past his lips, soaking into the fabric of his mask and making it impossibly harder to breathe. He forced his eyes open to stare up at the twinkling stars. There weren't many in the sky, the sun had just barely begun to set after all, but there were enough.

His tired eyes were already beginning to blur, leaving the stars nothing but fuzzy balls of light that blended together until they were all but one image.

As he lay there in the grass, its cool temperature now warmed by his spreading blood, he could almost pretend that everything was alright. He could almost imagine the warmth was from the tender embrace of the one he loved. If he tried hard enough, he could feel the weight of another hand in his own. In his ever ringing ears he could just faintly hear the sound of her infectious laughter.

He couldn't even bring himself to feel the fear of a final death as his body grew numb and black creeped into his vision, blinding him to the stars above. He could only feel contentment and love. He had a good run, hadn’t he? It certainly felt like it.

The last star he could see in his tunneling vision finally faded out, and Etho along with it.

#ethoslab #etho #secret life #secret life spoilers #life series #trafficblr #tw: blood #tw: death #the cletho is platonic but it can be more if you want it to be #i hope it is okay. i have not done creative writing in a rather long time #danny's fics #sorry i do not have an ao3 and do not plan on making one

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fountainpenguin · 10 months

Text

"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚 💛 ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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karkatwaddles · 8 months

Text

I have a lot of thoughts when it comes to impdubs/clock duo, like a LOT and i have read many interpretations of their relationship as well sd had LONG discussions about them and I thought I'd share with yall my thoughts. So this is my interpretation of clock duo throughout the life series

When it started out, in 3rd life, I think it started with them being very very close friends- and this will never change their friendship will out way a lot of the hate, even the love, because no matter what they're friends that care about each other, and I think for Impulse this is specifically important to mention. Because of course after 3rd life, after the betrayal, there will be that hate, that disappointment that betrayal, that anger, and it sits in his chest, it sits in his chest every single time he sees his friend after this, especially after the fact that in the end game- Impulse and Bdubs started show a really intense affection towards one another. So when that betrayal came up, it was really really hard. But the thing is, while impulse holds a grudge, and oh he holds it hard, he doesn't show it as aggressive as most people might. All in all impulse is REALLY REALLY friendly. He loves his friends so so much, he cares a lot about all of them, but with certain people there is this feeling that makes him feel frustrated, angry, but he's really good at hiding it. Bdubs is sorta one of these people.

So during last life, bdubs and impulse didn't interact a lot with one another but when they do, it ends up being ... well, tense. When Impulse sees Bdubs his chest hurts, not only his heart for his friend who betrayed him, for someone he loved, in a way, but also the feeling of the scar that lingers from the final attack from when bdubs permakilled him. It was an intense pain that he knew how to hide, but it sat there every time he looked at this man. The man who took his life.

And I think that something interesting that happened in last life is when they did interact it was kinda hostile. Of course they're still friends, they're still caring about each other but they are taking a LOT of space from one another. They do NOT want to interact a lot. But when Impulse helped Grian with the wither, I think he really did it to kinda hit back at Bdubs. When Bdubs died to the wither, he came back, towards Grian and Impulse and yelled something along the lines of "Are you happy with yourselves?!" Or something like that, something parallel to that kinda thing and I think the smirk that Impulse had on his face was BIG with a refreshing feeling of revenge. It wasn't he who cause his permadeath, sure, but he got back HARD on Bdubs. And I think that this feeling of relief and is really the reason why that Impulse can actually be with Bdubs in the next life is because he got this revenge. But of course, in the same way, it wasn't really... enough. Even when seeing the scar that was left on BDubs from the wither

But when it comes to double life, it changed. Because these two, they're a power couple, they're in love, they will not stop portraying this OFTEN with one another in front of people and with themselves too! But the thing is, how they got there is ... weird. When Impulse and Bdubs were first interacting in double life, Impulse put it together QUICKLY that he was Bdubs' soulmate after they met up (with etho and scar) but Impulse REALLY really didn't want this. Listen, he loves his friend, he cares about Bdubs, there isn't something that could change his care for his friends, no matter what. Even if Impulse can hold a grudge real fucking hard, he also still loves people so so much, too much, to hate unreasonably. But when it comes to all of this? He couldn't convince himself that he could be connected to Bdubs. He couldnt' imagine living, protecting him, with his own life. Not after what happened. But then as time went on, something chaneged-

Something that happened to a lot of the people who were connected- it wasn't just their lives but their hearts that were connected. Their emotions, their love, their hate-

And suddenly there was a LOT of love in his heart, there was this sudden burst of affection, of love, and there was no reason for it. The only explanation that could come to Impulse was the love that BDUBS felt- felt for him felt for the situation, especially after Bdubs and Impulse figured out that they were soulmates officially. But Bdubs also felt the frustration the grief the betrayal that sat in Impulse's heart and he found himself really really wanting to make it up to Impulse, to show the love that he really had for Impulse and I think Bdubs' love alone built Impulse up so so much, built the love Impulse had for Bdubs and built up their relationship. The hate, the betrayed feeling that sat in Impulse's chest becomes muffled and he's engulfed with this love for Bdubs and that's why they can truly be a couple through and through, even till the end.

With Limited life his feelings of betrayal and hate does bubble up again because that connection that he had with bdubs gets severed after they die and the uncomparable love that sat in Bdubs chest leaves. He still loves Bdubs, this will never change, but now that betrayal sits in his chest again and from what I know of Impulse's pov and, from what happens with him and bdubs, because the love that he felt from Bdubs fading because their connection severs, Impulse almost like- 'rebounds' in a way into that hate and wanting to get that true revenge because until he gets a perma kill on bdubs that want for revenge will never go away. And while he still loves bdubs, the fact that hate and that betrayal came back so suddenly without bdubs' love to muffle it really fueled him wanting to get revenge

But when it comes to Secret life- I think so much time has passed, years- that Impulse has had so much time to sit- to think. Maybe even WITH bdubs in double life- i mean with the fact that impulse gave bdubs a clock in double life all of it, I'm sure they discussed what had happened, the feelings that, now, they BOTH were feeling that originated from Impulse's heart. When it comes to Secret life, Impulse has finally learned to forget but there's something missing- something needs to really set it in place and thats why when heard Bdubs and Gem, his very very close friend, talking about death or something, he voulenteers. The interaction they have, "Bring the smoke" becomes what builds up their friendship, even the love they had again because it's this consensual death that impulse wanted, that he became EXILERATED with. It was a new age for the two, a new moment, a new feeling and how this kill, rather than representing death and betrayal, symbolizes rebirth and change.

(The last line is inspired by @mxmarsbars)

If you have any questions lmk :)

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pynkhues · 1 year

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Apologies for the disorganized ask but - how much (if at all) do you think the golden trio understand the experiences their siblings have re Logan’s abuse? I’ve been rewatching Succession to cope with the show ending and I noticed there’s this kind of warped view the siblings seem to have of each other (for example, Ken and Rome’s view of Shiv being treated better as the girl and favorite or Shiv and Rome believing Ken is treated better because of how close Logan keeps him at times like S2). I’ve also noticed a lot of Logan’s abuse tends to happen in one-on-one scenes as well (meaning other characters are not privy to those exchanges) and the times it’s brought up is by “witness” characters as opposed to the character who experienced the abuse (inherently to my read meaning that if acts are not witnessed, we tend not to hear about it). Do you think this has impacted how each of Roman, Shiv and Ken view each other?

I don’t think it’s a disorganised ask at all, anon, I think you’ve really hit the nail on the head in the sense that the Golden Trio don’t have a clear sense of each other’s experiences of abuse, nor more broadly of each other’s relationship with Logan at all. A lot of this is, of course, the fact that Logan’s parenting style seems to have been divide and conquer as that’s been the way he’s managed to control the people and the world around him, but in a lot of ways I think it’s symptomatic too of Logan’s own experience of abuse. Logan’s childhood was one of separation after all – from parent, from brother, from sister, sometimes in death, sometimes by force – and I think in a lot of respects, that division is to him a complicated cocktail of love and self-hatred (I think the funeral ep in particular made clear that Logan sent Roman away in the same way Noah had sent him, and whether that was out of punishment or self-hatred or in an effort to try and make Roman strong like he felt he was we could speculate forever).

Of course, it’s also the very ethos of the show that the past is made up. There are no objective truths in a personal history, which means there can be no shared understanding of what an experience was. The show plays around with memory all the time – Logan telling Roman he didn’t even hit him, Shiv and Caroline having different understandings of when Caroline and Logan divorced, the scripts showing us that the memory of the kids being shown their own crying faces in the mirror is attributed to different parents by different kids (Logan for Kendall, Caroline for Shiv) – and it seems to understand at its core that memory is inherently personal.

Add to that that children experiencing trauma often face developmental delays and memory loss (funnily enough, I just did a whole course on this for work), and neither the kids nor Logan ever really stood a chance.

But yes, more to the point of your question, haha, I do think the Golden Trio know that Logan ruined them, I think they know that his abuse was real, and I think they have a sort of vague idea of what buttons to push with each other because they’ve seen that behaviour modelled for them – know how to lean on Shiv’s gender and perceived politics and Kendall’s emotional vulnerability and mental health, and Roman’s mother issues and runt of the litter title – but I don’t think any of them have ever unpicked the reasons they do it beyond the fact that it’s ingrained in the DNA of the family, or have any deeper sense of what it means. They’ve been trained to sniff out each other’s weak spots, but they’ve also been trained to think only in the context of what that means for them personally.

We see that all the time, but especially I think in s2 when Kendall’s at his lowest and we see both Roman and Shiv feel threatened by Logan and Kendall’s seeming new closeness, but there’s a reticence to actually think about why or what it means beyond their own precarious places in the family unit. They’ve been raised in competition, and they’ve been taught to weaponise even the most personal of tragedies, which is exactly what Shiv does when she weaponises the waiter’s death in the finale, and Kendall does exactly what he’s been taught to do too which is re-write a memory in a way that makes what he did bearable. It’s tragic and it’s inherent to the show’s sense of identity, power and abuse – after all, how can you ever truly see each other when what you’ve been through and what you’ve done can be turned into nothing at all?

#i do think their conscious view of each other is very much shaped by logan #but i do too think there's a subconscious view of each other too which is frozen in childhood #but this show really is arrested development the tragic version haha #i love it sooo much and miss it already #hbo succession #cw abuse #kendall roy #shiv roy #roman roy #logan roy #succession meta #welcome to my ama

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arthropod-concoctions · 1 year

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(AO3 - prev)

Something is very off about this landscape, Etho thought to himself as he flew over forests and mountains, but I can't figure out what. No singular object looked out of place, and everything was located about where you'd expect; and yet, when flying over this world, the terrain almost seemed to blur by much faster than it should. He needed to find someone familiar, and fast.

After quite a bit of flying back and forth, Etho flew over a mesa and finally saw a familiar face; Jimmy, wandering around in what must be his base. He was hoping to find Joel, really-- he'd seen him on the player list earlier-- but Jimmy would do as well. He was getting a bit tired of flying anyway. He angled his body downward, preparing to land on the sand...

And hit the ground much faster than anticipated.

The armor he was wearing over the weird toga protected him from serious injury, but the fall still dazed him for a few seconds. Etho found himself laying in the sand, and saw Jimmy walking towards him; seemed like he noticed Etho's very undignified landing. Etho sat up, meeting Jimmy's eyes, who seemed... scared? Why would he be scared of someone he's just watched faceplant into a sand floor?

“Hey Jimmy,” Etho said, trying to sound casual. He got up fully, and only then noticed the extremely obvious fact that Jimmy only reached up to his waist.

“Hi, Joel...” Jimmy finally said, sounding very disturbed, “How's it going?”

“What?” Etho burst out laughing. “What is happening? Why am I like twelve feet tall now?” At least the weirdness of the terrain made sense now; Everything went by twice as fast because Etho was twice as big. And that explained why Jimmy looked so intimidated-

Then it hit him.

“Did you just call me Joel?”

“I- Yeah? What else am I supposed to call you, Colossus!?” Jimmy shouted back. His voice didn't sound the same as usual; he spoke with an American accent. Tango's accent, specifically.

“Wait. Wait a second, time-out.” Etho sat down on the ground to be eye level with... whoever he was talking to. “I look like Joel?”

“Well, yeah, if Joel lived in 1000 BC and- what do you mean you look like him? You are him!” Tango-- yep, definitely Tango-- responded.

“I look like Joel,” Etho said, mostly to himself. “And you look like Jimmy, by the way.”

Tango stared at him blankly. He looked down at his clothes. “I look like a cowboy.”

“Yep. You're Tango, but you look like Jimmy dressed as a cowboy. And I'm Etho, but I look like Joel dressed like a Greek god, apparently.”

Tango opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then said: “You're Eth- okay, that explains the accent, I guess. That does not explain... anything else about this. Why am I my soulmate, and why is my soulmate a cowboy?”

Etho thought about it for a while. Eventually, he concluded: “Grian messed up.”

“Grian messed up?”

Etho nodded. “Grian messed up, and somehow we ended up possessing Joel and Jimmy in their home server. They mentioned living in some kinda roleplay server, didn't they?”

Tango nodded as well. “This is true.” He sighed. “Okay. Sure. I'm fine blaming Grian for whatever the he-”

“Someone's coming.” Etho looked into the distance, where he saw someone approaching. Tango whirled around, and they both looked towards Gem as she landed on the ground. She looked different from usual; her antlers were gone, she was wearing a long pink dress, and orange butterfly wings seemed to sprout out of her back.

“Act natural!” Etho hissed to Tango. He knew people's memories could get jostled when traveling between servers, especially Lore-heavy ones, so it was entirely possible this version of Gem would have no idea what Hermitcraft even was.

Gem smiled at Tango. “Hello, Sheriff!” she said.

“Uh- hi, howdy, partner!” Tango responded, with what sounded like a cross between a British and a Texan accent. “What... can I do for-”

“Oh my god. Okay, Tango, I know it's you,” Gem interrupted him. “That accent was awful.”

“Oh, you do?” Tango replied, dropping the accent. “Amazing! Do you know what happened here?”

“Well, about as much as anyone else does. Something weird happened with your hardcore server, everyone's souls got swapped around, you know, normal stuff.” She shrugged. “Grian and Scar are working on reversing it, I think.”

“Grian and Scar?” Etho said. “That isn't encouraging.”

Gem huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn't wanna be you right now. Anyway,” she said, spreading her arms wide, “Welcome to Empires! You guys are here as Jimmy and Joel, and Pearl is probably also around as Scott. I'm gonna check on them later. And I'm here too, and hopping back and forth to Hermitcraft all the time, so I could get messages between here and there if necessary. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Tango said, nodding fervently. “It's good to know we're not going crazy, at least.”

“Hmm, I wouldn't go that far,” Gem replied. “Well, I do have my own empire to run, so I'm gonna go there now. You guys can just... hang out, I guess.” Gem began to leave, then turned back around.

“Oh, one more thing. This is a roleplay server, and the other players are... very enthusiastic about it. They pretty much never break character. So if you encounter someone else, I'd say you should probably act like you are Joel and Jimmy, lest they make... a whole thing out of it. They were just starting a rivalry, I think. Alright, have fun!”

Then, Gem turned around and took off. Tango shouted after her: “And you're just gonna leave us with that?”

“What are you guys talking about?” an unfamiliar voice said from behind Etho.

Etho startled, got up and looked behind him to find the source of the voice. He didn't see anyone, but then remembered to look down. A bearded man wearing blue armor and a mossy green cape smiled up at him.

“Oh, you know, just...” Etho said, remembering what Gem mentioned. “Just... antagonising Jimmy, that's what I'm doing!” he pointed an uncertain finger at Tango's face, which was actually Jimmy's face. “You... you scoundrel!”

“What!” Tango responded. “I'm being antagonised! How dare you!” Tango responded, and shook a fist at Etho. Etho had to admit, he mimicked Jimmy's outraged face pretty well.

“Oh no!” the stranger responded. “Well, I don't want to get in the way of that, so I'll be gone quickly, I promise.” He didn't seem to realise anything was out of the ordinary. He also did not leave, but instead continued to look at Etho, making some kind of gesture with his hand. Etho stared blankly at him.

“Get down,” he stage-whispered to Etho.

“What?”

“Get down here, I wanna say something to you,” he whispered, making the gesture again. He was pointing to the ground, Etho realised.

“I thought you were leaving,” Etho said, but he sat down anyways. The other man grabbed his head.

“I've dropped Hermes off at your place. He can't wait to see his thunder daddy again,” the man whispered into his ear. Then, he reached down, and briefly squeezed Etho's butt.

“Okay, I'll talk to you later! Bye bye!” he yelled, and left just as suddenly as he'd arrived, leaving Etho sitting on the ground, speechless.

After a long ten seconds, Tango spoke up: “Did he just... what did he say to you?”

“I don't think you want to know.”

* * * * *

Staring at the face on the chat device's screen, Pearl took a moment to assess the facts. She had Scott's body, Scott's chat, and was in an unfamiliar player-built village that was likely to be Scott's base. Which was not in Hermitcraft.

“Grian, how on earth have you managed to do this?” she said to herself. She then used Scott's chat to check the player list of this new server. She recognised every name on the list; it seemed like the group from Empires.

Oh, Empires. What a beautiful fever dream that was, Pearl thought. Maybe she'd reminisce with some of the others later, when she saw them. But first, it'd probably be wise to get to the bottom of this situation. She narrowed the player list down to three people she'd like to see: Joel and Jimmy, in case they knew what was going on, or fWhip, in case he could reverse it with admin permissions. Then she unfolded the very colourful elytra she had on her, and started flying.

After a little bit, Pearl encountered someone else, flying in roughly the same direction as her. When she got closer, she immediately recognised him: it was Sausage, wearing a different outfit from last time, although equally regal.

“Alright, forget the list, I've gotta go talk to him. SAUSAGE!” she yelled, causing him to turn around in mid-air. The two of them circled downwards until they landed.

“Sausage! Hi! Oh my goodness, it's been so long!” Pearl said, excitedly.

“Hi Scott, what's up?” Sausage replied. “Didn't we talk last week?”

Oh, right. “Right. Okay, this is awkward, but I'm not actually Scott.”

“Really?”

“Nope. I'm Pearl!”

“Pearl... that's a nice name. Do you have new pronouns too?” Sausage asked, smiling. Pearl had to admit, that wasn't really the reaction she was hoping for.

“No- well, yes, but- this isn't a transition situation, Sausage. More like... a possession situation.”

Sausage gasped, and took a few steps backwards. “Possession?! Are you, like, a spirit that's taken over Scott's body?”

“Well, kind of... what, don't you remember your old friend Pearlo?”

“Hmm... sorry, let me think for a moment,” Sausage responded. “Nope, I don't remember any friends named Pearl. Unless you mean...” he stopped talking for a second. His eyes widened.

“No. Is it true? Are you... her?” his voice was suddenly softer, more gentle.

“Yes, I've just told you I was!” Pearl replied. She was stunned. Sure, Sausage was always pretty strongly affected by Lore, but forgetting about her this hard? Maybe Ren was right, maybe she really was cursed.

“Oh my... oh my goodness, that's amazing! You've returned to us!” Sausage said, back to his normal energetic voice. “We have to do something to celebrate... a feast. Would you like a feast?”

“I'm always down for a feast!” Pearl replied.

“Wonderful! Come on, let's get to Sanctuary. Follow me, please!”

---

“Sausage, you have got to give me a tour of this world after the feast,” Pearl said to Sausage as the two of them flew over a sea filled with pirate ships.

“Of course, I'd be happy to!” Sausage replied. Then he added, in that uncharacteristically quiet voice again: “If I may ask one question though... why Scott?”

“Well, I didn't get any choice in the matter, it was just picked randomly,” Pearl replied. “I probably would've chosen somebody else, to be honest. Scott's at least a better option than Jimmy though.”

Sausage laughed. “So true,” he said. “That's interesting though. I thought a goddess would have more power over that...”

Wait, what? Goddess? Before Pearl could ask any questions, sausage landed on the street of a beautiful city, next to a large cathedral.

“Here we are! I haven't actually prepared the feast, so I'm going to do that right now. Do you have any food you'd like to try?” Sausage asked.

“Hmmm... Soup! I love soup.”

“Soup?” Sausage repeated. “That isn't very feast-y, though...”

“No, but it is tasty. I like soup,” Pearl replied.

“Of course. You're right, I'm sorry. We can make soup! I'll get started right now. You could have a look around Sanctuary, or just take a rest in your cathedral, alright?” Sausage said. He was talking rather fast now.

“Do you need some help with that, or...”

“No, of course not! You're an honored guest, you don't have to do anything! I'll be back soon!” With that, Sausage dashed off. Pearl could still hear him talking giddily to himself.

“Well, alright then.” Pearl turned around to look at the building behind her. “My cathedral, huh...”

She stepped inside, and immediately her attention was drawn to the stained glass window in the back wall. It had a large artwork of herself, in the dress she used to wear as queen of Heliantia.

“Wow, he really wasn't lying,” Pearl said, as she strolled across the church and stepped onto the stage. There was a chair off to the side, where she sat down and stretched her legs. Or, rather, Scott's legs. That was still a very strange sensation. After a while, her chat device buzzed; a message from Gem.

GeminiTay whispered to you: Pearl?

You whispered to GeminiTay: HI GEM

GeminiTay whispered to you: oh it is you, good

GeminiTay whispered to you: Scott's in your body in hermitcraft too

GeminiTay whispered to you: where are you? I couldn't find you in Chromia

You whispered to GeminiTay: at sausage's

You whispered to GeminiTay: we're gonna have a feast

GeminiTay whispered to you: oh god

GeminiTay whispered to you: do you need rescuing?

Did she need rescuing? Sausage seemed to think she was a goddess, which was definitely weird, but a nice change of pace from being called a witch all the time. Plus, she could definitely cause some shenanigans with this knowledge. She could handle being Scott for a little while if it let her cause a bit of chaos.

You whispered to GeminiTay: nah

You whispered to GeminiTay: he's making SOUP!

You whispered to GeminiTay: you wanna join us?

This should be fun.

(next)

#arthropod writes #empires fic #double life fic #double life smp #ethoslab #tangotek #pearlescentmoon #mythicalsausage #geminitay #the swap au #hi im back writing again :]

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