#forgetting something au

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

I wrote a thing... erm. @toppo-da-foxxo you asked me to tell you more about this au but this is really just the same thing but written down nicely. Hope you enjoy anyway :J

cw: major character death (uh. he'll get better don't worry?? just not here), mind manipulation, forgetting, cosmic / eldritch horror

Contrary to popular belief, Listeners are not the ‘good’ version of Watchers. More moral, perhaps, preferring not to meddle in mortal activity. They have a strict code against interfering, unlike the Watchers, which is why the Watchers were outcast. But like any of the observers, they cannot understand players.

Just as we can never understand what it’s like to be an insect. To crawl on the ground so miniscule. To be picked up in a little glass cup and moved from inside of the house to outside, by an entity so much vaster than ourselves - all observers are blind to the individuality and personhood of players.

The Watchers wanted to do more than pick players up and put them outside. They wanted to feast. Greed is what drove them to play with people’s existences, basking in the delicacy of mortal pain. So unethical and horrific that even their own brethren couldn’t stand to see it.

And thus, they were banished, and all worlds were protected from them. Millions of years passed. The Watchers starved, and started to die. Fading away into the stars, into the void, into nothing, until only two remained.

Then, Evo appeared. A server, infantile and unprotected, its admin breaking the world in a way that made it undetectable to the greater observers. Prime pickings for the hungry Watchers, desperate to feed and to recruit new blood.

The rest is history.

It has been six long, difficult years since Grian escaped the Watchers. Their torture and changes still linger as he hides. Most days, he is alright now. Happy, energetic, pesky, creative. All of the things he used to be. 

Some days are like today, and he can’t get out of bed at all. But that’s okay too. His friends are there to help him. They don’t mind. No one minds. It took a long time for Grian to realise that.

Laying in bed, eyes closed but not asleep, he hears the front door open. Sometimes he’s glad he built a little space for himself in the tall, stilted base he propped up against the side of the mountain. It’s cozier than the usual bed sitting outside with a singular torch next to it.

He is expecting someone, probably Scar, to start making food in the little kitchen area beside his bedroom. He's expecting to hear the clatter of glass and silverware, maybe something frying in a pan. Just like every day like this, where he just can’t bring himself to move. The friendly sound of pots and pans, gentle humming, or a light one-sided conversation, usually pull him into a nice sense of comfort... but he doesn't hear that. He doesn't hear any footsteps, or any calls of his name, or- 

He is tempted to open his Eyes, just to look around. 

And it is when he has this thought, that a siren starts blaring. Across the server, a droning tone moves up and down the register, whining and wailing its warning song. It penetrates every single chunk, from the nearby shopping district all the way out to the world border. Every hermit hears it, and every hermit knows what it means, despite never hearing it before. 

There is an intruder on the server. A powerful and dangerous one. Something has broken in, and it has an intent to harm. 

Xisuma has certain code triggers in place, set to protect the server if something like this happens. The server scans itself, locating all foreign entities. It saves its logs, and begins to record, leaving something to view after whatever is happening is over. Morbidly, it is more for outsiders than for Xisuma himself. It's there just in case ... in case they don't get out alive. A system of locks trigger, trapping all players inside the server - which can be overridden with a password, but it is more to keep whatever is invading inside, to stop it from getting out into other worlds. 

But Xisuma knows that these are desperate, inadequate measures. Set in place to make the hermits believe they are safe. Tango asked him, once, if something that powerful was able to break in, wouldn't it be impervious to any measures taken to trap or locate it? And Xisuma had lied, then, telling him the emergency systems would be more than enough to stop any threat. 

He had lied, because he couldn't simply admit that they would be helpless. He couldn't just let his hermits down. Allowing them to believe in him, in the idea of safety, had to be enough.

And it wasn't. It isn't enough. Something is here. The sirens are screaming, and Xisuma, from the control room in his base, feels dread pooling in his stomach.��

Grian, meanwhile, cannot move. He cannot open his Eyes, or his eyes. He's stuck. Frozen. In time, or in space. And yet, he isn't alone behind his eyes. There is something in his vision, something vast and all-knowing. Expanding outward to infinity. 

Lots of things, but he's unsure where each one ends and begins. They have many eyes, but most are closed, unlike the watchers. It makes sense, because all of these gods, these factions, they're all the same type of creature. They all look roughly the same. 

When the Watchers worried about losing their species, and made him a lesser one of them, it was more about the loss of their bloodline - their ideology - than anything else. 

Still, it's strange to be face-to-face with gods again. Gods he hasn't met before. He'd grown used to One and Two. Their violating gaze, wandering code that slinked across his body, infinite forms that spoke in every language and none at the same time. He'd grown used to the discomfort and terror. And when he was Changed, and could comprehend them, he grew used to their neverending yet finite presence. 

The gods before him now do not talk. They don't say a word, unlike One and Two, who said many. Mostly derogatory or uncaring things. Taking joy out of his pain. No, these ones say nothing. They simply observe him. 

On the surface, the skin, the shell that he is made of, down to the muscle, bone, organs, flesh, blood, then onto the cells, the atoms, and finally the code. Every piece of code. He feels it all. But he is used to being looked at. 

They say nothing, and yet he knows what they want. They want to kill him. He tries to plead, mentally. Emotionally. But they do not care to listen. He is beneath them. A criminal. A watcher. 

One of the groups, one of the factions of observers, seems more interested than the others. It is nothing like mercy when they decide to keep him instead. To feast upon his suffering for a while before they get bored and inevitably end his life.

It's the Listeners that take him in, the other deities practically throwing him at them in a very disorienting process. He's ripped from his home in an instant, so fast he doesn't have time to even notice what's happening. It’s a blur of light and colour and shape and time.

And then he's in the void again. A structure in the void. A god's home.

- - -

Xisuma goes on this rescue mission alone. After weeks of painstakingly trying to locate Grian, using all of his energy and admin experience and voidwalker magic, he announces that he will be going alone - no exceptions. It's too dangerous, he tells the other hermits. Far too risky. 

And what about him? What happens if he gets hurt? Xisuma tells them not to worry, but he is overflowing with worry himself. He knows what he's facing, and he knows how difficult this will be. He knows there's a chance he won't come home. 

But one of his charges, one of his hermits, is lost and alone. He knows Grian must be alive because he still remembers Grian exists, but judging by what happened - or what Xisuma assumes happened - the last time Grian was kept hostage by deities... this might be a fate worse than death. 

Scar makes him promise, under the lock and key of a vexian deal, to return safely with Grian. He's clearly angry that he can't go on the rescue mission too, blue light sparkling in his eyes. But he shakes Xisuma's hand, drawing blood with pointed claws, regardless, the singing laughter of the vex swirling around in Xisuma's mind for minutes after the fact. 

And so he goes. Journeys. He's not sure how long it takes for him to reach the outer void. Time is so different, so fragile and bendable, here. He walks, as his species suggests, through the empty abyss with ease, but he's still simply a player, and can only comprehend so much. 

Eventually, after what might have been months and might have been nanoseconds, he finds it. A strange, mind-bending prism, shifting and warping with the void atmosphere. A gods' domain. 

It is... surprisingly easy to find Grian. Upon entering the structure, he slinks through the shadows of tight corridors and winding rooms until he comes across a tiny, barred cell. 

The walls are opalescent, shimmering, while the ground seems to sway like an ocean. In the centre is a nest, constructed with wool and feathers and fabric which all appear to melt into one another. There are objects within, but nothing Xisuma could put a name to. Nothing truly familiar, though everything pushes the boundary of the real. The only thing inside he can really identify, truly, is Grian himself, curled up in the nest, wings barely folded and brushing the walls. 

He tries to say Grian's name, but the sound falls away with the emptiness of the void. It is odd, not hearing his own voice. He was so used to communicating through sign and gesture as a child, but that was a millennia ago, and he hasn't been back to the void in any significant way since. 

Still, Grian seems to hear him. He turns, jerky and sudden, to stare at Xisuma with wild, feral eyes. Animalistic eyes. 

Seeing that gaunt face, Xisuma can tell he's been here for longer than a few weeks. His hair is long and dirty, clumped together in dark patches. His body is thin, bones jutting out under bruised skin, the few clothes left in tattered rags, and the expression on his face, teeth bared... 

It’s too long of a pause. The issue, really, is that he is so close to rescuing Grian, when it all goes wrong.

In the space of a blink, he's not by the cell anymore. He's in some other room, disorientating and impossible. Before him are a series of patterns burnt into the code of the universe, and they are looking at him.

He panics. Tries to split the code between his claws. Tries to send these beings ahead of him into the dark pits of nothingness. He tries to eviscerate them, with all his power, and - of course - they don't even react.

Without words, they tell him to calm down. He does not calm down.

They are everything. They are everywhere. They encompass the entire universe and nothing and all the void and they are finite but they go on forever. A moment to them could stretch over millions of years. Even Xisuma, ancient as he is, is a dot in the timeline of their lives. 

It is absolutely terrifying. He feels so woefully unprepared. So tiny and insignificant. Like nothing could have ever mattered before this. Every part of his being is taken apart, judged, and found wanting. 

Then something incredibly strange happens. 

In one second, Xisuma knows why he is there, why he's facing down deities in a cold, soulless void. He knows he’s on a mission to rescue Grian, his friend and hermit, from the grasp of these unimaginable monsters. And the next second, he does not. 

It is worse, maybe, to be an admin, and feel the empty space where code once lived - where a player once lived - and to know there is something no longer there. Something he has forgotten so immediately, like the blast from an atom bomb, there is only a burning shadow left in its place.

He screams, and the grief comes from nothing. There is nothing. He does not know why he's here, and still knows all the same he has lost. 

They tell him silently, and with every language at once, to leave, or the same will happen to him, and his players will be left with no admin to protect them. No admin, and no memory of an admin at all. 

He feels like he has been sliced open and pulled inside out. 

In an instant, he abandons the void, heading home with the knowledge of his loss lingering in the empty space where something - someone - should be.

- - -

On hermitcraft, Pearl is pacing around her room, worrying. She is an absolute mess of anxiety, picking at her fingernails and pulling the skin there until it hurts. 

It is looking like she might wear a hole in the floor with how much pacing she's doing. The dark bags under her eyes show how little sleep she's had over the past few weeks. Her hair is unwashed and messy. Her room smells stale. 

And then, in an instant, she has no idea quite what she was worrying about at all. The anxiety lingers, but when she tries to remember what caused it, she comes up blank. Entirely blank. Like nothing was ever the matter in the first place. 

Huh. 

Well, she has shops to stock and redstone to learn, and a super secret fight club to take part in, so whatever she was worrying about - which can't have been all that important anyway - can wait. 

She throws on an elytra, and rockets off towards the shopping district. 

/// 

Scar does not know why he feels so angry. Or, actually the vex feel so angry. 

He's a pretty chilled out guy, even with the whole vex thing, so this is rather uncharacteristic of him. The vex are absolutely screaming for blood, in the way they would if a deal had been broken. They are ripping his mind to shreds with their constant screeching, shiny talons digging into the most primal parts of him and begging for redemption. 

But he doesn't remember making a deal. He wouldn’t, knowing the consequences.

Maybe he and Cub played with each others' minds again, for fun, and something went wrong on that front? He has no clue. 

Still, he needs to get some of these silly emotions out, so he shoots Cub a quick message asking for a brawl. Cub is very eager to agree, his own vex apparently needing something similar. 

Weird. 

/// 

Gem stares over the water at the other half of her base. She doesn't really know what she was thinking when she put this bit together. It fits somewhat with her little creepy fishing town, but... there's just something kind of wrong about it. 

It's not her style, for one. The builds don't even make sense with what she has planned. These aren’t themed buildings with specific characters in mind. It's like someone else added it in without much of a regard for her aesthetic choices, but... no, it's her base. 

She made this. Didn't she? 

///

Across the server, at the exact same time, everyone forgets. A space where someone should be is glossed over, blocks rearrange their own backstories to fit a new narrative. Years of laughter, friendship, and chaos are replaced - remedied - with stand-ins. 

Everyone is left just the same as they were before, as far as they know. As if nothing happened at all. 

They all just continue on. Pearl, Scar, Gem, Cleo, Tango, Joel, Skizz, Impulse. Joe, Zed, False, Ren, Hypno, Mumbo... 

Mumbo... 

Mumbo... has a headache. He reaches up to press his fingers against the back of his skull, pushing into the point of pressure with a disgruntled sigh. 

Something is wrong, and he can't tell what. He's been staring at this armour stand build for the past ten minutes, looking into the eyes of a stupid cod, of all things. There's just something about it, he thinks, that is bothering him to no end. 

He considers tearing it down and using a different mob head to represent the hazmat suited figure, but the idea of destroying the silly statue makes his head hurt even more. Like an entire part of his very soul is being torn into. 

Which is weird. Really weird. And don't get him wrong, he loves the occasional dabble into weirdness, but this is the wrong type of weird. Disturbing weird. 

There's something missing from this image, his mind supplies unhelpfully. He's a little confused by that thought. Everything seems to be perfectly in place. Nothing is missing. But it is. 

Or... Someone is missing. Mumbo checks to see who's online, and it all seems normal and fine to him. And yet his mind insists. Someone is missing. Someone so important that it is horrific he would ever forget.

That tug at his soul is there again. Just pulling, pulling, ever so slightly. Like someone is trying to break it in two.

His headache sizzles and lingers, depressingly. He grumbles to himself, and decides to bring this up with Xisuma at the next chance he gets.

Xisuma who went away for... some reason.

Well... Mumbo is sure it'll be alright in the end. Things have never not been alright in the end, after all.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

How Bill was defeated and captured by Ford in my Gf AU! He basically just tricked Bill into accepting a deal that trapped him within Ford's mind and under his control :]

He may have gotten a little out of hand though....

>:)

Next post :]

[dreamweave01]

And then they proceeded to TP the entirety of the GN Hotel -v-

After working on this post last night, I couldn't stop thinking about the kinds of things Leo and Raph wouldn't have had a lot of in their timelines.

Reliable food sources, safe living conditions, etc.

Which only reminded me of the Covid lockdown and how in my area at least, there was never any toilet paper (or eggs. . .)

So obviously I chose to stay up way later than I should've and made this :3

Plus I was a bit tired of all the angsty stuff I've been making lately and really wanted to do something more lighthearted and silly.

[goosologist]

(How weird! To be noticed, and known!)

[chonggen]

Eclipse Regressed — Masterpost

This au occurred after MK sacrificed himself to save the world and the world was reset.

Next

[somerandomcockroach]

SNOW BOTS ARE BACK BABE, IF IT WILL BE LIKE THAT EVERY YEAR I MIGHT DIE ONE DAY OF HAPPINESS WHEEEZE (I mean, drawing them like that is so much faster, plus colors, plus snow, plus they all are alive, COME ON IT'S A DREAM) Go smooch @keferon and everyone who makes "everyone is happy" content wheeeeeze

[somegrumpynerd]

Truce is going well

[polybiiuss]

these 4 from a while back that i still like

i love warrior cats

[just-null]

I’d like to think that the hantengu clone’s darling would actively try to avoid anything with the colors red,yellow,green,or blue to “not send the wrong message” to the other clones

Them: "Choose whatever color you want. You deserve to have all of them <3"

Also them: "Why that color specifically..........."

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

One of my favorite Relativity Falls niches is Pacifica replacing the role of Fiddleford so here ya go

[cryptidmickle]

hi your amnesiac au has me in SHAMBLES plsplspls im crying sobbing stabbing the floor

im so glad i discovered your blog 😭 your art is so lovely and nice and just. Yes. eats everythibg snd leaves no crumbs /silly

PLEASE i require more info about amnesiac au.

could this happen to the other Beasts? if it can happen to Shadow Milk, it might be possible with the others, should their Ancient counterparts get lucky with their attacks

does Shadow Milk gradually become less of an ass? does he seek answers as to Why he was so awful? does he care at all?

how horrified is he at the revelation that he was such a huge issue for the faeries + PV, if at all? he already doesn't know much about himself, so would not knowing he was such a problem, such an awful person, terrify him, considering he doesn't remember any of this?

idk. i personally would be so so incredibly horrified and terrified that i was so terrible and..well, monstrous, if i may. i kinda project onto Shadow Milk im ngl so that's probably why im saying any of this

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG im just so,,, AAAUAGTHYBHLRHTLBFLTTKG /POS abt this entire au. hoenstly it inspires me; both your art and your ideas and concepts

hope you have a good day!! stay safe /gen

SOBS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THIS AU!!! i read all the tags on my posts btw so if any of u went crazy in there i saw it and went crazy w u. im deranged and mentally ill if u cant tell.

i would say the cracking of the souljam and loss of power is very possible for the other beasts! the amnesia however is a Very special case of pure vanilla fucking up the spell he cast

the other beasts would be depowered and much weaker, but retain their memories...... actually, would their corruption break as well since the souljam disconnected entirely from them? hm, i think redemption would be more possible if an ancient got a lucky shot, in that case

shadow milk does in fact become less of a jerk! what with no longer being secluded in a spire losing his mind and sense of identity all by himself, his personality is forced to become. eh. LESS THORNY.

pure vanilla is socializing him like a dog and he is NOT enjoying it. but i am. put that guy in situations.

shadow milk does in fact seek answers to why he did so many terrible things! he knows his... current personality isn't the greatest, but he can't imagine doing some of the things described

he feels a certain disconnect to the him others describe terrorizing them to the him of present, while he feels bad for what happened to them he doesn't really feel apologetic because was it really him? how's he supposed to know?

should he feel sorry because it technically was him, just.. evil? would that excuse it if he doesn't feel sorry at all?

this is where shadow milk and white lily have similar dilemmas because they both have previously done terrible things to others, especially pure vanilla. they feel bad about it, they dont wanna hurt him or others like that ever again

but then this is where they separate because shadow milk doesn't feel at fault, he doesn't remember doing all those things, he doesn't even know who that was! you want me to grovel forever about it? pathetic, what's done is done anyways, why not try to do something now?

white lily absolutely despises that mindset as she's competing with pv over who can hate themselves more, and she is winning. she thinks they both deserve to repent forever for their crimes but is constantly reminded of the fact that she remembers but shadow milk doesn't! she knows what she did, why she did it, it was bad and terrible, but she understands and that's what's important and she must repent for it

shadow milk doesn't know, he doesn't know anything at all and theres even more that they can't tell him as he's apparently been evil for centuries. it's hard to argue that he needs to feel bad when the personalities are truly separated.

......i went on a ramble again.

he doesn't feel bad about what he did but he is in fact, very unnerved that he may be capable of those actions again, and with pure vanilla trying to teach him to be good and kind its...... panic inducing sometimes, that maybe he can do something terrible again, that the evil is possibly just lurking under the surface and hes fooling himself and everyone around him

[mangywayway]

Small thing for the birthday boy 🧡

[fansids]

The Project Hogs on a mission.

Sonic and Amy are usually sent out solo, but occasionally they'll be partnered up for bigger missions.

previous

[faintv0x]

happily ever after

[ping-ski]

eclipse and y/n are finally done!! (you can find EBY sun & moon here)

these refs aren't that much different from the old ones aside from small changes :3

(old) EBY DCA ref

(old) Y/N ref