#secret life smp fic

[scribbling-dragon]

Hi!! can you write some fluff about pearl's slumber party?

absolutely! the little segment at the end of everyone's videos was so silly,, hope this did it justice!

hush hush

summary:

“Shush,” Pearl hisses, slightly more forceful than the last few times she’s told him to be quiet. “You're going to wake them up.” Despite her warning, she continues to let out small giggles every few seconds, and his comm continues to wobble in his hands as he tries to focus the camera. [Or, a small snippet from the sleepover at Pearl's.]

(ao3 link)

(1,531 words)

Pearl shushes him, even as she continues to giggle and distort the sound with her quiet hiccupping. She clasps a hand over her mouth a moment later in an attempt to muffle any sound she makes, while the other hand is held up in a command for silence.

Grian is doing much better in his attempts to stifle his own giggles, wobbling slightly as he leans further over the sleeping pair. He has to make sure he angles this properly, otherwise the photo is going to be ruined by his shadow.

“Shush,” Pearl hisses, slightly more forceful than the last few times she’s told him to be quiet. “You're going to wake them up.” Despite her warning, she continues to let out small giggles every few seconds, and his comm continues to wobble in his hands as he tries to focus the camera.

He shakes his head and ducks down, still giggling. He’s not even sure what’s funny anymore, what it was that set them both off in the first place, but it’s gone three a.m. and everything has become wildly hilarious.

“Ugh,” both he and Pearl freeze. That small sound was more than enough to shut the two of them up. They turn their heads as one towards the source of the noise, his arms still extended and holding his comm out to take a photo. Skizz squints one eye open, looking about until it lands on them. “What’re you two doing?”

“Securing future blackmail material,” he whispers back, painfully aware of how close he is to everyone else and how easy it would be to wake someone else. He manages to finally get the perfect angle, no shadows cast over the target of his photo. The photo is snapped with a small click, and he pulls his trembling arms back towards himself.

“Nothing.” Pearl says, just moments after him. She turns a glare in his direction as soon as she’s spoken, fierce enough that he momentarily draws back an inch. “Gri! Why’d you spill the beans?”

“Shh,” he’s the one shushing her this time. “You don't wanna wake them, do you?”

“Course not. Just look at ‘em,” she gestures towards Jimmy and Tango. Grian, personally, couldn’t care less if they woke them now. The blackmail material is already safely tucked away into a secure folder, ready for the next opportunity to use it. (He’s thinking maybe at Jimmy’s birthday. Or Tango’s. He could put it on one of those custom cards.) “They're so cute like this.”

Skizz huffs a breath at that, almost sounding like he just disagreed with a widely agreed upon sentiment.

Grian pauses at the same time as Pearl, each of them staring at the other before turning as a single unit towards Skizz, where the man has just begun to sit up.

“Skizz,” Grian says, drawing the word out as a smile curls over his face.

“You got something you wanna share?” Pearl leans a little closer, eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s creepy when you two do that,” Skizz tells them, pointing a finger like he’s trying to be stern. “I hope you know that. You're like some freaky twines straight outta horror film.”

They turn to look at each other then back at Skizz. “Creepy?”

“Uh, yeah. Did you see what you just did then?”

Grian maintains his confused expression for only a moment longer, breaking down into giggles. He leans up against Pearl as he laughs, feeling the way her shoulders shake as she leans into him as well. “Oh, man,” he swipes a thumb under his eye. “Skizz, your face.”

“What about my face,” Skizz crosses his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with my face.”

“Oh, nevermind,” Pearl waves a hand flippantly. “What I do mind is you keeping secrets from everyone else. You got something you wanna say about our lovebirds over there?”

Grian glances back at Jimmy and Tango, finding that they’ve somehow managed to cuddle even closer to each other. Tango’s being held tightly by Jimmy, as though he’s some oversized teddy-bear, barely visible between Jimmy’s arms and wings. Tango, for his part, seems rather content with this arrangement, tail curled around Jimmy’s leg as the pair continue to sleep.

“Ugh, what don't I have to say about those two,” Skizz drops his head to cradle it in his hands. “I know we called it Love Island and all, but I think that name needs to be changed now.”

“Heart Foundation sounded fine to me,” Grian frowns. “I don't see why you had to change it.”

“Cleo said-” Skizz cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “You know what, nevermind.”

“What did Cleo say?” Pearl scoots a little closer to Skizz.

“Nothing, nothing.” Skizz laughs. “We changed it because Cleo said the name was bad. That we have bad taste in names.”

“Uh-huh,” Grian gets the feeling they're not being told the full reason, especially with the way Skizz snuck a glance over at him, only to look again when he realised Grian was still watching him. “Sure.”

“I'm being serious,” Skizz holds his hands up. “D’you wanna hear what I have to say or not? Because I'm perfectly happy to just go back to sleep…” Skizz starts to roll over, pulling the blanket of his temporary bed up to his shoulders.

“No,” he lunges forward and tugs the blanket away, wrapping it around himself and grinning smugly at Skizz. He pauses, then sticks his tongue out for good measure. “I’ll give this back if your story is good enough.”

Skizz pulls a face. “No way. You can just say that it’s not good enough, there’s no categories to rank it against.”

“Fine. I’ll give it back once you finish telling us the story.”

“I was just gonna say how they're constantly being all…sickly sweet with each other,” Skizz gestures towards Jimmy and Tango. “Jimmy comes over to Love Island, and he swims through the water every single time. I think he does it just because he knows how Tango will react!”

“And how does Tango react?”

“He’ll laugh at him for a second, and then he’ll go get a towel – and this towel specifically belongs to Jimmy for when he does this. And then they’ll just sit there as Tango lovingly goes through and dries every single feather; it’s cute, but it becomes a little less cute when your buddy just dropped you, again, to go help his boyfriend recover from being an idiot.”

“Shh,” Pearl warns, glancing over at Joel as he shifts in his sleep, then rolls over, muttering something incomprehensible. “Don't wanna wake anyone.”

“Sorry.” Skizz continues a little quieter a moment later, “You know that storm we had a few days ago?”

“Ugh, yeah,” he shivers at the thought, feathers puffing up a little behind him. He’d been stuck inside a temporary shelter until the rain stopped being so heavy for fear of waterlogging his wings and then having to spend hours drying them out again. “Horrible weather.”

“They were worse.” Skizz’s face flattens. “Jimmy was fussing over how warm Tango was, and then Tango was fussing over how wet Jimmy’s wings were. I couldn’t even leave! I just had to sit there and watch them be all lovey-dovey while it was miserable outside.”

“Well,” he reaches over to pat Skizz on the shoulder. “I don't have a solution for you there. But sorry for your loss, or whatever.”

“Like, I love the guy! But there’s some things you don't do when your house doesn’t have any dividing walls!”

“Oh my god, did they-”

“Ew, no,” Skizz reels back. “Ew, don't even make me think about that, man. No, they didn’t. But Tango is loud when he purrs, and it’s really difficult to sleep with a motor engine rumbling on in the background!” Huh. Funny. Grian hadn’t noticed Tango purring at all earlier, despite being so wrapped up in Jimmy’s embrace.

All three of them freeze again as a small snuffling sound permeates the silence, turning as one being towards where Jimmy stirs. “Issit day yet?”

Grian throws Skizz’s blanket back towards him in a panic, wrapping himself in his own as he acts like he was asleep the entire time. He hears similar frantic shuffling of fabric as the other two copy him, before everything falls silent again.

Grian can still see where Jimmy and Tango lie together, holding his breath as he waits for Jimmy to go back to sleep.

“No,” one of Tango’s eyes slits open. Grian can see the way it glows in the gloom. “Go back to sleep, it’s the middle of the night still.”

Jimmy makes a small humming noise before he, seemingly, goes back to sleep.

Grian can feel his heart thumping in his chest, a little giddy at being caught. Especially when Tango’s eye continues to remain slit open, the faint light remaining for another minute or so before Tango, too, goes back to sleep.

Or maybe falls asleep for the first time that evening.

…Was he awake that whole time?

Grian muffles a nervous giggle into the palm of his hand, hearing as Pearl, then Skizz start giggling a little as well.

[theminecraftbee]

Etho and Grian are back at base, hysterically laughing over their achievement. Cleo sits inside, staring, as the two of them talk about getting a wither and a warden to fight, and tries to figure out what she feels about it.

In some ways it's not their fault. Task made them do it and all that. Plus--

Well, it's not like she and Etho are losing hearts anytime soon. They've both done a damn good job keeping themselves from dying. A benefit, Cleo thinks, of deciding to team with Etho this time. Between the two of them, they'll largely only do chaos they can recover from. Maybe this is their game. Maybe this time, Cleo manages to stick with someone until the very end. It looks like it. It looks like...

Grian, of course, is the confounding factor.

She wasn't going to turn him away. He needed allies. They needed someone a bit better at actually doing damage than herself or Etho. It's mutually beneficial. And, besides, he's weirdly lovable, in an inherently kind of dangerous way. A little like loving a bobcat someone had accidentally raised as a pet cat until it got a bit too big and stinky and murdery for them. Like, yeah, he shouldn't be domesticated and he's not, really, in any sense of the word, but it's a bit sad to watch him try to survive on his own now, right?

Hah. Maybe that's what Scar managed to do to him. Would explain a lot, really.

Anyway, he's her bobcat now, which is the problem.

See the thing is: Cleo understands Etho. It's why finally deciding to be partners for once felt... right. They're similar flavors of people. Scared, mostly. Survivors, but not in the 'will stab anyone' way that like, Martyn is. Loyal, although Cleo has no delusions that Etho is as loyal as she. And scared. Has she already said that? Scared. It's important to the kinds of things she and Etho are. Like... mountain lions, maybe. Mountain lions that have been around just enough people to know how dangerous they are. Like that.

God, she's only doing cat metaphors. Bdubs really is turning them all into furries.

Anyway, the point is, Grian isn't scared.

And that... terrifies her.

That's scarier than anything else. Because, see, Cleo wants to survive. But more than that, she wants her partners to survive. And she and Etho, the two of them are doing well. Better than most people. They're green and they have so many hearts.

But Grian? Grian's yellow and not afraid and goading Etho into not being afraid too. It's not their fault, exactly, Cleo thinks. They both had hard tasks. They didn't have a choice, Cleo thinks.

But. But.

She doesn't know what to do, if Etho gets convinced the humans down the mountain aren't scary. She doesn't know what to do if he gets too close. She doesn't know what to do if he gets hurt.

Because she--she doesn't think she can learn to stop being scared, anymore.

But she also doesn't know how many times her heart can stand to lose someone.

Did you know--wild cats are social? They have a reputation for being loners, but mountain lions, they're social. They don't do well being alone. They don't actually hunt solely alone. That's the important bit here. They seem independent, sure, but actually...

Anyway. This is Bdubs's fault. For making her a furry, apparently.

She watches Grian and Etho scheme together and sits back and breathes and tells herself that Etho isn't going to stop being afraid anytime soon. That if push came to shove, he, at least, would retreat back, and that maybe the two of them could convince Grian to retreat too. Safe from hunters. Safe from red.

Maybe safe from hurting each other, too.

(She's not so sure about that part.)

[fountainpenguin]

Shout-out to loyal Joel laying down his Yellow guess on Pearl's task, deliberately incorrect, just to show her she's safe with him.

Shout-out to Mumbo immediately turning on his own team and trying to kill them horrifically with anvils. I expect no less after how wild he went in Last Life.

[raticalshoez]

Solace for the Lonely

This was an AU idea I had just aptly named "Life Series Therapy Session" where it stemmed from a stupid headcanon that after a while, Grian started to feel bad for how the games were taking a toll on his friends so instead of being an eldritch horror he uses Watcher like abilities to like.....make therapy for his friends???

Joel was his guinea pig.

Basically the premise for Joel's session was he had to find closure in his past as one of the lonelier members by helping other members who were cursed with loneliness in other life series' and help them come to terms with things.

With LL!Scar, Joel is a bit awkward because it's the first person he's conversing with so there's this sorta of whiplash and this season was the one where him going red left them both alone.

Scar is also shocked at the sight of a Joel who isn't mental, and given Scar's track record in later seasons of unfaithful soulmates and forced villainy, Joel finds him the hardest to comfort.

He opts for telling him that one day he'll meet people he can call family, hinting towards the Clockers, but never outright saying it. He thinks back on his time with the Bad Boys, and his unwavering loyalty to them. He thinks the season might've been a step towards a less solitary life for them both.

When he sees DL!Pearl is his next "client," he's much more confident. He's teamed with Pearl at this point, and he knows that she will not have to suffer her Double Life fate again.

He has to tiptoe around specifically mentioning the Mounders and the fact that they are a group that forms because he doesn't want the Butterfly Effect to take place. Being as vague as possible, he assures Pearl that one day she will find people to be devoted to again (even if he does leave out the part about them all dying before her...for her own wellbeing).

Pearl is naturally skeptical. She's been isolated on this server that's meant to be about love and in this world where DL!Joel is purposefully antagonistic, here he is uncharacteristically telling her everything will turn out okay in the vaguest nature possible. And she's just expected to believe that?

Even so, as he walks away, she can't help but feel a little more hopeful.

The last person Joel encounters is SL!Lizzie, and this one stings a bit more. Joel knows Lizzie's fate in this world, and it's not pretty for her. Lizzie didn't particularly have a happy story in Last Life either, so something about this is extra unfortunate.

Joel just goes straight in and tells her that he will always be there for her because that is the full truth and he knows Lizzie needs to hear it. Maybe not at this point; maybe at this point SL!Lizzie is completely content and nothing particularly bad has happened to her, and she's wondering why her husband is at her doorstep looking so sympathetic.

But when Joel remembers a certain party, and the way he was still attacked even after being her sole supporter, he feels he has to comfort her, and tell her that he loves her, and somehow make it so her cold and lonely death in the end doesn't feel so bitter after this is all done.

[ellieloves2draw]

i support bigb’s rights to lie for literally no reason and also unintentionally mirror one of my favorite characters in a certain horror podcast <3

(ID: two ink sketches of bigb and grian. bigb is a black man with short hair, a beard, and a sweater with the sleeves partially rolled up. he’s drawn as the distortion from the magnus archives, meaning he is unnaturally tall, has too many joints, and has incredibly large, sharp-fingered hands. grian is a white man with short, light hair, circular glasses, and a sweater vest.

in one sketch, bigb is leaning over grian. one hand is resting on his shoulder, and the other is held slightly out, palm up. he’s smiling at grian. grian looks up at him with a nervous, confused expression. the words “there is no hole” are written next to them, along with a smiley face. in the other sketch, bigb is standing in an open doorway. the door is a minecraft oak door. spirals can be seen behind bigb. his left hand is holding the doorknob, and he’s holding a chocolate chip cookie in the other hand. he is looking directly at the camera, smiling. end ID.)

[oh-snapperss]

creature comfort

“We won’t win today,” Cleo says, and Etho knows she’s right. Knows their time has been running out since the first secret was whispered to them in voices all too familiar, has known that this day was coming, has known that all this time, it’s not been a question of if–it’s been a question of when. 

They’re going to die today. Distantly, Etho wonders if the domesticity they’ve worked for will die with them, or if it will follow them back home. 

Will his home ever be a physical place again? Home is where the hearth is, where the warmth is, where the world is shut out and it’s just the three of them. 

Home is where Cleo is. 

“That’s alright,” Etho smiles instead of voicing all of that, wishing, of all things, that he didn’t still have that awful cough that Cleo had insisted he rest over for a few days. “We’ll be alright.” 

They’ll be dead–and what are the dead, if not alright? The dead don’t have coughs, or pain, or fear. They’re just dead. Etho thinks he might not mind it so much, this time. He’s finally learned to spend his time wisely, and he’s built a home no flaming arrow could ever take down. 

Just by the cow pen, there’s a stupid little porch Etho had built a while back. They’re nowhere near it now, but every night he and Cleo had watched the sunset, drank a final cup of tea, and turned in to sleep over gossip and giggles only they could draw from each other this time ‘round. Before, Bdubs had made him laugh like that–now, Etho wonders how long before there’s a sword at his throat. 

Even so, while Cleo laughs and watches him set Scar’s porch on fire, Etho hopes he might have the privilege of watching the sunset from the porch one last time. He’d survive the day, if only for another sunset with Cleo. 

BANG. 

Tango’s gone–Etho knows it in his heart. Surely he should feel an ache for him, should ask how he went. Instead, it’s easy to accept it. 

The wardens are fun. That’s all they are, now. Before, they had been terrors, then the answer to a desperate prayer he and Grian had made. The carnage of those terrifying beasts feel muted compared to before, but with the wind flying through his hair, the elated cries of Cleo in front of him, Etho can’t care. Not this time. They lead two clear to the middle of the server before they’ve decided to finish having their fun, and Cleo’s just stepping up some rocks when she says it. 

“You’re my favorite, you know that? You’ve always been my favorite.” 

He does know, he does know now. He’d guessed it that first sunset, when Cleo sat down with a giddy smile to recount their day. He’d thought it, when she’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders after his failures and rested her head on his shoulder without a word. He’d lived it, when she had shouted that she would kill him if he tried to kill her–but was reassured otherwise that night on the porch again, with the curse ebbing from his bones. 

Today, he knows it in the blatant rebellion against what’s supposed to be the end, the dread, the fear. 

“You’re mine too.” Etho grins back, and knows that they’ll see his smile even through the mask–knows they’ve come to recognize it in his tone and way his eyebrows scrunch together. . 

They wind up in the sky base with Grian–Grian, who hasn’t quite reached the same conclusion they have. Etho knows by the shadows under his eyes he won’t give up, that he’ll fight clear to the end. Once upon a season, Etho had been the same. 

Not this time. Never this time. 

Around ten minutes to sunset, Etho and Cleo set down their dripstone and bows, and sit on the edge of the cobblestone wall. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to our base for it this time,” Etho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Cleo’s. Cleo laughs, a carefree thing, and wrinkles her nose. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for it any time, if we’re being honest.” She leans back, one hand half behind her to support her weight. 

“I know,” Etho says. He brings his leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it. Behind them, cobblestone is placed–Grian, ever the survivor. “It was nice, though.” 

“It was nice!” Cleo beams. “Are you alright with this?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Etho hums. “‘s not so bad. Dying with a friend.” 

“It won’t be,” Cleo agrees. 

Because that’s just it, isn’t it? Etho’s never died like this–he’s died at the flames of an arrow shot while protecting his king, he’s died in fights after his allies were killed. Hell, he’s died hand in hand with a soulmate hellbent on killing him now–but he’d been in a frenzy then, a rage-induced thing meant to burn up the place that had never been a true home to them. 

He thinks he won’t mind dying with someone. 

The sun sets in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and they sit together, this final tradition not lost in the face of inevitability. Just as the first star twinkles, Grian comes over, hoisting them back to their feet. 

“They’re coming,” he says. 

It’s time. 

They shoot a few arrows, break some dripstone, all to no avail–but that’s alright, he’s got Cleo, and they’ve got him. 

But oh, the games are never kind, are they? Etho slips, his foot landing weird somehow–and he’s whistling through the air towards the ground at a speed too fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs when he lands–does he hit the clutch? Stars, he doesn’t actually know, because there’s arrows shot at him, shouts of glee from the hunters, and suddenly Etho’s not Etho, he’s just prey–and prey only know to do one thing. 

Run. 

Etho flies forward, dragging his sword out. There’s not many safe spaces left on the server–stars, Grian had even mentioned their base was but a crater in the hill. 

But the porch… the porch was intact. Supposedly. 

He enderpearls, and enderpearls again, and it’s still not enough. The screams behind him are closer, and closer, and then further–and oh, Etho knows it’s time. He’s dead, he’s gone, he’ll be but a wisp of the wind in a few minutes whether he likes it or not. 

And he won’t die by Cleo. 

Cleo, Cleo, Cleo. Oh, he’d not meant it to be like this. He’d meant to die with a smile, right by her side–just as they were meant to die by his. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan. A sob claws its way up his throat, the beginnings of the blind panic he’d never meant to feel tonight. He’s going to die, alone, without the comfort of his Cleo. 

Home. He wants to go home. 

Home is in the air, a hundred blocks above him. He’ll never make it–but he can make it back to the porch, the one place of peace. Now, he can feel the twinge of something broken in his ankles, probably from the fall–and the cuts, the bruises, the blood scent thick in his nose. He’s so tired. 

He wants to die at home, he wants to die at home. 

“Oh, he sounds like a wounded animal… let’s put him out of his misery.” A voice said. Cold fear grips Etho’s heart, and he stumbles forward–the porch is in sight!

Let him die at home. Let him die at home. 

A shadow fills his vision, and Etho’s not even had time to lift his shield before blinding pain fills his stomach, and it’s over. 

He’s not allowed that creature comfort of dying at home. 

[lunarblazes]

secretkeeper’s log: session 1

grian: make 3 bad jokes and get NO laughs

status: completed; “we could’ve had the boo-geyman” to skizz, “i’m going to stick around” to mumbo, “lichen subscribe” to cleo, tango, and skizz (for some reason he thought he had to do 5 jokes)

bigb: dig a big hole. all the way down. at least 3x3. make it your base if you want.

status: completed(?); dug a 3x3 hole down until he hit a dripstone cave and couldn’t figure out how to continue. oddly, b’s task was written on a red scroll and worded differently to the others.

cleo: build your base directly above another player’s above ground.

status: completed; built a base over lizzie’s cherry wood protection hut

tango: get scar to talk about star wars for 90 seconds.

status: completed; talked to scar about ahsoka tano’s origins

skizz: don’t be further than 10 blocks from geminitay for ten minutes. one attempt only.

status: completed; stood near gem and confused impulse and scott atop cherry hill

jimmy: break 5 crafting tables while they are being used.

status: completed; broke mumbo’s crafting table 3 times, impulse’s crafting table 1 time, and skizz’s crafting table 1 time.

etho: collect 4 beds without being caught and place them on a shrine.

status: completed; took grian’s bed placed in etho’s base, mumbo and bdubs’ bed from their respective bases while they were arguing, and took cleo’s bed while they were fighting with skizz and tango

lizzie: write a poem about another player and read it to them.

status: completed; written for and read to joel

joel: plug the life merch at the worst possible times to other players at least 4 times.

status: completed; promoted to scar and jimmy whilst being attacked by a baby zombie, to cleo whilst jumping a ravine, to mumbo whilst luring two creepers towards him, and to the cherry collective whilst luring another creeper towards their camp

mumbo: make a pun at every opportunity in a 5 minute conversation, minimum of 3 successful puns.

status: completed; he found grian, what do you expect. it was way longer than 5 minutes

pearl: get 3 players to gift you their heart.

status: completed; gifted by lizzie (in exchange for a bone), etho (in exchange for a heart), and jimmy (in exchange for a shield)

scott: build your base directly and obnoxiously attached to someone else’s.

status: completed; attached a parasitic growth of a cabin to gem’s cherry house

gem: convince someone to take a leap of faith and make sure they take no damage.

status: completed; convinced lizzie to dive into water for a pumpkin, built a diving board atop cherry hill

martyn: build an identical base to another player.

status: completed; replicated lizzie’s base near the mounders

scar: call people anything but their username for at least 30 minutes of the session.

status: failed; called mumbo his name, then revealed his task to grian and mumbo

challenge task: come up with a nickname for another player and convince 2 other people to use it.

challenge status: completed; convinced mumbo and tango(/skizz?) to call grian “the light of the server”

bdubs: make your base deeply uncomfortable to use and look at.

status: completed; bdubs’ upside down house started a trend and also looks horrible, it is so hard to get into, and is tiny

impulse: make cherrywood your entire identity.

status: completed; convinced gem he likes cherry wood now, made a pink boat, handed out cherry saplings across the server, etc., he sure Did It

[its-muffin-tyme]

These Characters Are Stolen From Their Respective Life Games And Thrown Into A Tiny Life Series World/Game Together:

[aquaquadrant]

Title: poor language

Warnings: Shipping (Ethubs, past Impdubs, kissing), session 4 spoilers, references to past seasons

~*~

“You know, Impulse came with me to kill the dragon.”

Bdubs says it casually as he slides off his horse. They’ve officially ended the session, but a few players are still hanging around, catching up on the session’s chaotic events before heading back to their respective worlds. So naturally, he had to stop by Etho’s place to gloat some more about his legendary accomplishment.

Etho, doing some last minute work on his chicken farm, doesn’t look over at Bdubs’s arrival. “Oh, yeah?”

(‘You know, our old thing- if things come down to it, we don’t betray each other.’)

“Yeah.” Bdubs ties his horse to one of the fence posts of Etho’s sheep pen. “Yes, he did, he- it was me, him, and Pearl first before those other- those sneak- snipers, freaking kill-stealers came in after, of course. But Impulse, he- you know, he couldn’t actually kill anything this session so he was just helpin’ out, shooting th- the uh… end crystals… moral support…”

Etho nods, his back still turned to Bdubs. “Good, good.”

“Yes…” Bdubs clears his throat. He puts as much admiration into his voice as humanly possible. “He did amazing.”

(‘Guess what? Impulse and I are in love.’)

“I’m sure he did,” Etho replies, his tone perfectly, infuriatingly neutral.

Irritation flickers through Bdubs. He pauses for a second, working his jaw. “Eeugh- you know it was my task, right?” he presses. “I ha- my hard task, most impossible task in’a world, kill the ender dragon in the life series…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Finally, Etho climbs out of the chicken hole, dusting his hands off. “I- I kinda figured, ‘cause you know, you were pushing real hard for it…”

“Uh huh.” Scowling, Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “Well- thanks a lot, then, for the help!”

(‘You could’ve went for me, and you chose not to.’)

Etho’s grinning behind his mask. “What, you expect me to fight a dragon just to help you out?” he asks teasingly.

(‘You clearly don’t know how Etho works.’)

Bdubs’s voice dies in his throat. He swallows, glancing alway. “No,” he lies. “No, I don’t…”

“Gotta play smart in these games, you know?” Etho puts his hands in his pockets, walking over. “Going to the end, uh, it just doesn’t make logical sense. Like, especially if it’s not even my task.”

(‘Etho, I feel like if this whole thing falls apart, alliances and stuff- it’ll still be you and me. We’ll still stick together.’)

“Right,” Bdubs murmurs sullenly. He folds his arms. “Right, right, right, of course.”

Etho comes to a stop in front of him. “So like, why else would I go?”

“Why else, right…” Bdubs echoes. His chest feels tight all of a sudden.

(‘He’s a survivor, that’s all he does.’)

Etho sighs. “What- what’re you doing, Bdubs? Why are you here?”

Bdubs’s heart jolts. “Uh- jeeze, can’t I just stop by to chat?” he demands, throwing his arms up. “Goodness sakes!”

Etho tilts his head. “Well yeah, sure, but you’re always here,” he points out. “Like, since day one you’ve just been finding reasons to come over here…”

(‘Where’s your boyfriend, Bdubs?’)

Bdubs feels his face heat up. “Oh, would you- maybe I come over to see Cleo, did- did you think of that?”

“Cleo’s not here right now,” Etho says evenly.

“Ah hah…” Bdubs rubs the back of his neck. “Well, that’s- yes, yes, okay, you’re right. So what?”

“So, if you wanna be around me so bad, why didn’t you team with me at the start?” Etho asks, taking a step forward. “Why’d you go join up with the Mounders?”

(‘The first thing I wanted to do was… well, yes, of course! Of course, team up with you, yes.’)

“Uh…” Bdubs takes a step back. “I mean, I didn’t- things happen, you know, organically, and- and I didn’t really… I had to build a- a house, upside-down house, other people started buildin’ around me while you- you ran off into the middle’a nowhere!”

(‘Etho has no loyalty to you. He’s just immediately teamed up with the next guy that’s come along.’)

“I think we both know why.” Etho starts walking forward again, forcing Bdubs to take equivalent steps back. “We’ve known each other a long time, Bdubs. We’ve got other worlds outside of these games, where we can spend time together without all the uh, the manipulation and deception and killing.”

Bdubs’s back suddenly hits a tree- he has nowhere else to go. His heartbeat pounds in his ears. “Uh, yeah? And…?”

Etho shrugs, looming over Bdubs. “But that’s just part of the game. So like, we can make all the promises we want, but uh, we both know that sometimes… things don’t end well. So maybe it’s better to keep our distance this time. That way it’ll hurt less, when it happens, and we won’t ruin what we have outside of the game.”

(‘I have a strong feeling we’re not gonna be friends at the end of this.’)

“So that’s it?” Bdubs challenges, indignation rising inside him. “Just- just avoid me, so you don’t feel bad if you turn ‘round and stab me in the back, huh?”

(‘You know I would never kill you, Bdubs.’)

Etho’s eyes flash. “You wanna know why I didn’t go to the end for you, Bdubs?” He leans in. “Cause I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” Bdubs breathes incredulously, staring back up at Etho. “You know what I think? I think you’re just scared. Not of the dragon, sure enough, but of what it’d mean t’go fight it for me.”

(‘I gave him the courage! He was scared.’)

Etho’s expression betrays nothing. “You think so, huh?”

“Yeah!” Bdubs puffs out his chest, a fierce grin spreading across his face. “Impulse didn’t care, as a matter of fact he was happy to do it!”

(‘Now, is this a happy marriage?’)

“Yeah?” Etho’s voice is dangerously soft, almost playful. “Then why aren’t you at his base right now?”

Bdubs deflates again. He should’ve known better than to try and make Etho feel threatened by his history with Impulse. They both know their connection goes deeper than that, than a single season of bound hearts and souls.

(‘Um… I want Etho.’)

“Okay, okay,” he says sheepishly, face burning, “you got me. In fact, I think Impulse- he was already planning on goin’ before I was, not even to help me out specifically.” He shakes his head. “Sheesh! I was just- is it too much to ask for a- a little attention?”

(‘Why can’t you be normal about Etho?’)

Etho hums noncommittally. He braces a forearm against the tree above Bdubs’s head, leaning in so their faces are mere inches apart. “You’ve got my attention now.”

Despite the tension, Bdubs huffs a laugh. “So much for- for keepin’ your distance, huh?” he jokes, reaching a hand up to tug Etho’s mask down.

This time, he can see Etho smile. “Well, we’re not technically playing the game right now. Session’s over.”

“Good point,” Bdubs chuckles, tilting his head up to meet Etho’s lips.

He knows this doesn’t come easy to Etho. He doesn’t have the same boldness as Bdubs when it comes to love, doesn’t throw his entire self into it with reckless abandon. He’s more cautious than that- always has been. He shelters his heart behind his aloof nature, his uninvested ‘easy-going’ attitude, and he wraps his words up in clever metaphors and the guise of amusement- lest anything he say be taken seriously as a weapon to wound him. So words aren’t always enough to convey what he really feels.

But they don’t need words for this.

Bdubs is well-versed in the dialect of Etho’s hands, the way they grip his waist to pull him closer. He’s memorized the divots that Etho’s scar has left in his lips, the way it feels against his own. He knows the slant of Etho’s jaw beneath his fingertips, the way his head tilts and shoulders bow to accommodate their difference in height. Every movement, every touch, every breath between them is part of their own unspoken language, communicating everything Etho’s left unsaid in his own unique way- and Bdubs remembers why he never should’ve doubted.

(‘He loves me. He cares. He does.’)

~*~

[5typesoftrash]

Tango. Cleo. Etho. Impulse. Gem. Pearl.

He didn’t even see her die. He shot her off the cliff, he heard the thunder, but his mind never made the connection. She was there, then she was gone.

“Oh, there was a zombie back there,” he had said, casual as anything. Unbothered. He didn’t even see her die.

“Pearl, I’m comin’ for ya!” he declares to the empty savanna, looking down into the chasm created by their own mortal hubris, their lust for dominion. “Where’d you go?”

He climbs down into the ravine, looking around for her. The zombie follows. “Where’d you go?”

Gently, softly, Grian’s voice issues from the sky. “She’s dead, Scar,” he breathes, and he sounds so sweet it hurts, deep in Scar’s chest. “You won.”

If he focuses hard enough, he can almost feel Grian’s hand brushing his hair behind his ear.

“Oh,” Scar replies, feeling a little stunned. Without his consent, tears start to trail down his cheeks.

Tango. Cleo. Etho. Impulse. Gem. Pearl.

He didn’t even see her die.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Not that I think this will actually happen but I think it would Heal Something if both Joel and Bdubs went red and still refused to turn on Pearl.

[desertduality]

Chapter Eleven of Ad Astra is posted <3

“What are you doing?!” Gem shouts, fearful desperation in her voice, gazing up at Pearl with a hurt expression as she dodges their arrows. “We were friends!” Something about the genuine confusion in her words makes Scar falter for a moment. It’s her first game, and for the first time, it’s painfully obvious.  “I don’t know!” Pearl shouts back, her tone a maelstrom of emotions. “I don’t know, Gem.” None of them ever know.

[theminecraftbee]

Grian pauses, turns around, walks back over to BigB, and squints at him.

"Hey, wait. Why are they red?"

"What?" BigB says, shoving his old secrets into his bag.

"They're red! I saw them!" Grian says. "That's the wrong color? Everyone's tasks are on normal parchment. Why are they red?"

"No they aren't," BigB lies.

"Yes, they are, I can see them," Grian says.

"Maybe parrots are colorblind," BigB says. "They're definitely not red. They're... normal-colored. Maybe your tasks are the ones that are the wrong color."

"What? No, I would know what color the tasks are supposed to be. They're supposed to be on normal parchment, I swear! I don't know why yours are red!"

"And I told you, there are no red tasks here. Are you feeling okay?" BigB says, knowing full well he didn't hide them perfectly in his bag, but in too deep to not keep committing now.

"What are you doing," whispers Grian. "What is wrong with you."

"I don't know, man, you're the one who keeps on showing up and yelling at me," BigB says.

"Look, they're just--why are those the wrong color?"

"I'm just saying. Maybe you're the only one who has them on a color that isn't red. If my tasks are red. Which they aren't!"

Grian throws his hands in the air. "And I told you, I'd know what color the tasks the Secret Keeper hands out are, wouldn't I?"

"I mean, I don't know. Why would you?" BigB asks.

Grian freezes in place.

"If you're so certain you know what color the tasks the weird god-statue hands out are, like, how? You're just as trapped here as the rest of us, right?"

"I just do," Grian says. "You know how I. You know. I'm supposed to help enforce the rules. So I just--"

"Nah, don't worry about it, I just wanted to see what you'd try to say for an answer," BigB says magnanimously. "I know why you know."

"...you do?" Grian says weakly.

"I mean, yeah. I was there too, Grian. I don't know why even the guys watching tend to forget I know about them. Hey, maybe that's why my task is red! Because I knew people would see it! Of course, that would only be true if it were red. It's not though. You should really work on that."

Grian stares. He looks oddly shaken. "Huh," he says.

"Is that all? Because, like, I have more doors to build," BigB says.

"You are the most deeply confusing person I know," Grian says, but it sounds more like a compliment than something meant to be upsetting. BigB decides it's fine to leave it be, especially since Grian's voice is oddly flat in the way it gets when he's considering whether or not to ruin everything. BigB figures it's best to stay out of his way when he gets like that. He also knows how impossible it actually is to stay out of the way, but hey. That's just how life goes sometimes.

Instead, he goes back to digging tunnels, waving as he goes to Grian, to the Secret Keeper, and to you.

[fairyfortalliance]

the imagery of no health regen…… wounded skin that doesn’t heal…. torn clothes….. burns…. scorch marks….. bite marks….. blood everywhere…… unraveling bandages…… oh…….

[cheapposts]

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

It feels so weird. So wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to die in the end? Scar is pretty sure he was. He saw it with his own eyes: every winner before him died in the end. But for some reason, Scar didn’t.

At first he was confused. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now. But then a day came by. Two days. A week. And no god struck him down with a lightning. Scar was becoming more and more weirded out by that. He tried taking matters in his own hands, but no amount of jumping from a cliff to his death led him to freedom. He respawned again and again, wearing the same clothes with poppies and lilacs, having the same red eyes looking back at him from the river, staring at the same shade of red his name had every time he took his communicator in his hand and typed, "Hey?", "Anybody alive?", "Hello?", because what if the reason why he’s still alive is that he’s not actually a winner yet? What if there’s another player, and all he has to do to end this is to find and kill them, or let them kill him? But he never found anyone, and two weeks after the day he won, he stopped searching.

Three weeks after the day Scar won, he already had a new house going on. He settled at the edge of the map near mesa. "Screw this," he figured, "I’m not going to just wander around the land for months if the gods forgot to kill me. I’ll do things!" And things he did. After he was done with his new house, he fixed his old base, and tore down Mumbo's tower, and built a couple of things here and there. It was nice.

The next week was spent relaxing. He tended to his crops and fed cows he’d stolen from someone (not that the person would mind; they were dead). He died once that week and woke up in his bed again, but at that point it was starting to feel normal.

Five weeks after the day Scar won, he finally had to admit that the gods were not going to kill him. That for some reason, they decided to trap him there. Or maybe that’s what their idea of a happy ending was, maybe Scar happened to become the winner of the final game, the final round, and this was his reward. Maybe all the other players have gone home. Maybe Scar’s the only one left behind, and they live on without him.

There was no use in thinking about possibilities. It was only upsetting him. No - terrifying him. Instead, he took the matters in his own hands once again, and paid a visit to The Secret Keeper.

"I don’t want that," he said to it. "If this is my reward, I don’t want it. I want to go home. To Hermitcraft. Back to my friends. Back to where they’re alive."

The Secret Keeper didn’t seem to react. Scar felt his chest heat up with rage.

"Get me out of here!" he yelled, voice wavering. "You psychos! I- I miss my cat!"

The Secret Keeper didn’t answer.

Scar went home, laid down on his bed, and spent the evening thinking about Jellie's warm fur and his friends' smiles.

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

[fountainpenguin]

Barely two minutes into Grian's Ep 8 and I'm losing it... what a fantastic task, oh my gosh. Jimmy on Discord haunting him from beyond the grave...

Every bit of that so far, from "No way!" to "Prove that you can see me!" and "This- This is mad-" is gonna make awesome 'fic material...

Jimmy: "And you're looking at Etho and ZombieCleo"

Grian, panicked, cutting him off: "Okay okay okay okay okay!"