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#and ZombieCleo is their day to day skin
frozen-mars · 21 days
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Tis been awhile, but I return with offerings of ZombieCleo!
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fearforthestorm · 2 years
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hello target audience for my hermitcraft x starship iris crossover au. today I offer you a Cleo backstory fic. tomorrow? yeah probably nothing again then but hey I finally got something up for this au,
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Hermit-a-day May, day 24, ZombieCleo Something about the face is reminding me of the Steven Universe style - that was unintentional haha!
[ID: digital art of ZombieCleo sitting in an armchair - they are holding a cup of tea in one hand and letting an orange cat sniff their other outstretched hand. The cat is standing on a circular side table. Cleo has green zombie skin with stitches across her face, a flower crown, a ripped blue shirt, black shorts, and black and white tall/mismatched stripey socks. End ID]
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dailystressmonster · 1 year
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Day 24 of drawing Stress until she uploads an hermitcraft episode feat. Zombiecleo
i think it's adorable that they both have similar workout skins
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red-sand-beach · 1 year
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skin changes for the witchcraft smp so far:
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confirmed members (joey graceffa of firefrost, zombiecleo of time, smajor of necromancy); shubble, the storm witch, hasn't changed her skin yet
unconfirmed members under cut:
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unconfirmed as of yet members: prismarina, laurenzside and soupforeloise. they changed their skins in the past two days and the colors are reminiscent of the promo picture. also two of them are subscribed to the smp's twitter. if i had to guess, they'd be witches of water, illusion and sand respectively (with the witch of nature left)
my guess for the last member is bekyamon, she's friends with the guys here and is subscribed to the twitter account
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hermitprankwar · 8 months
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Hermit Prank War: Round 1 Match 1
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Secret Fools Ghasts (Season 9)
Prankster(s): DocM77 Victim(s): Grian
For April Fools Day, Doc transported many, many ghasts to the Overworld and hid them underneath Grian's starter area, with a button (helpfully labeled "DO NOT PRESS THIS BUTTON") set to trigger the mobs to be raised by a water elevator and released upon the server. One of the ghasts from that day is now held in Cub's museum, while one other ghast still roams the Season 9 Overworld to this day.
Mini Cleo (Season 9)
Prankster(s): PearlescentMoon, ZombieCleo Victim(s): ZombieCleo (and later GoodTimesWithScar and TangoTek)
As Cleo's Secret Santa, Pearl put herself in a box wearing Cleo's skin, armed with three custom audio goat horns that said, in Cleo's voice, "Hi, I'm Cleo!", "Yeah," and "No," and promised to do whatever Cleo desired. After using Pearl to help her disarm a prank by Jevin, the two of them decided to terrorize and confuse other Hermits, starting with Scar, who they then recruited to do the same to Tango.
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And here's a treat i wrote for @oshawottarchive, inspired by @greenix' fantastic artwork "The statue queen and her knight!" very happy i managed to finish this one in time for the @mcytrecursive exchange.
Rating: Not Rated
Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Category: Gen
Fandom: Secret Life SMP
Relationships: Ethoslab & ZombieCleo, Grian & EthosLab
Characters: ZombieCleo, EthosLab, Grian
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, kind of; theres monsters at least, Weeping Angels - Freeform, EthosLab (Video Blogging RPF) is a Weeping Angel (Doctor Who), Gorgon ZombieCleo (Video Blogging RPF), Time Travel, petrifcation
Summary: What happens when two monsters that can't kill each other cross paths?
Fic below the cut!
Deep in the labyrinthine halls of an abandoned temple that only the exceedingly reckless dared enter, a gorgon stood next to a petrified warrior, trying on his armor.
Cleo fastened the clasps of the breastplate, but quickly unclasped them after seeing how poorly it fit. She sighed as she put the armor back onto the warrior's body. She was getting a bit tired of the dress she was wearing, but none of her recent victims had anything that fit her. It's because female warriors are going out of fashion again, she thought, and no civilians ever enter this temple anymore. Maybe she should try going out into their settlements again. That didn't end too well for her last time, but honestly, she was starting to get bored all alone in here...
“ˈiːθəʊ?” a voice suddenly called out. “hɛˈləʊ?” Cleo froze in place, almost like one of her own victims, trying to determine the source of the call. It was clearly a human, but that wasn't a word in any human language she knew. she also heard footsteps now, seemingly getting closer.
The same words were called out again, and the footsteps grew louder. Maybe this was some fool from foreign lands, who hadn't understood the locals' warnings about this place. That would be a nice opportunity. Cleo began to move towards the sound.
A man with unusually light hair turned the corner, and Cleo watched the expression on his face go from concern to relief to horror within a second. He screamed, first wordlessly in terror, then again in some unknown language. “ wɒt ɑː juː-”
Cleo lifted her veil, and the scream died on stone lips.
“An honour to meet you too.” Cleo said. She moved over to inspect her newest statue, but she could already tell it was going to be a good one. Most of her recent work didn't show abject terror like this one, they were too prepared for her presence. And the clothing-
Huh. The clothing wasn't like anything she'd seen before. The man wore tight-fitting trousers that were almost as grey as his skin now was, made of a material she could not identify. By contrast, the garment he wore over his torso was as red as blood, and very soft- soft enough to make Cleo gasp slightly as she ran her finger over it. it didn't fit the man's form in the slightest, almost as if it'd been made for somebody else. Fortunately, that meant it might fit her as well.
“I'll be taking this... whatever it is, thank you,” they said as they lifted the garment off of the statue, and chuckled. Who were you, oblivious wanderer? She found herself wondering. Where did you come from?
– – –
Etho stalked restlessly through the overgrown stone building. He'd picked this spot to camp out, hoping he'd easily blend in with the statues all around, but that was days ago, and he hadn't seen a single human since. And he was getting hungry. He was beginning to suspect humans purposely avoided this place. Maybe they did that because of the statues? He'd heard once that some humans were scared by statues. Which was stupid; why would they make statues if they were scared of them? These couldn't possibly all be his fellows either. He froze in place, which told him that there was somebody seeing him. Finally, he thought. He couldn't see anybody, which meant they must be behind him. He could hear footsteps, and then, a voice.
“...You're new,” the voice said, and then the human it belonged to stepped into Etho's view-
Nevermind. Etho was quite certain humans didn't usually have snakes emerging from their heads. The not-human woman was wearing several layers of mismatched, brightly coloured clothes, and a veil covering the top half of their face. They circled around him, hands clasped behind their back, almost as if they were inspecting him. Infuriatingly enough, Etho saw them blink, but couldn't regain his mobility; the eyes of the snakes watched him too, not leaving him unobserved for a moment.
“I didn't even know i could catch other monsters,” they said, and Etho felt them touch one of his wings. He wasn't sure how he felt about that statement. “You're definitely getting a place of honor... but first, I'm gonna try on that mask.”
Then they did something Etho definitely did not like: they reached towards his mask, aiming to take it off. That would nullify his only trump card, unless he played it now.
“Please don't,” he said. The woman stopped.
“What!?” they yelled out, then took several steps backwards. “How are you talking?” they demanded. The snakes on their head seemed surprised by their sharp voice, which was good for Etho; it meant they at least didn't consciously control two dozen eyes.
“You're not technically looking at my mouth. The mask covers it,” Etho replied. It was a trick that most of his fellows knew, but few ever used it. The mask just got in the way unless you liked talking to your victims, like he did.
“That's not how this...” the woman trailed off, flabbergasted. “Oh, whatever. Monsters petrify by different rules, i guess.”
“Monster? Oh, come on now. I'm just a regular human. Who turns to stone when you look at him. Something which you are used to, apparently,” Etho rambled. If he had an organic body, he would be sweating right now. Normally he'd be having these kinds of conversations with regular people, and he'd be able to move about two percent of the time, leaving him comfortably in control. With this creepy snake lady his mobility was reduced to zero percent, which was a whole different story.
They just chuckled at his remark. “And has wings. Can't forget about that.” They briefly placed their hand on a wing again, then took it off. “What's your name?”
“Etho.”
They turned their head sharply at that. “How long have you been in this temple, Etho?”
“...Two, three days?”
“Well now that can't be true,” they said, eyes narrowing, “because I've been getting confused wanderers walking in here calling out your name for at a century.”
Ah. He figured this had to come up eventually. “...It's complicated. Let's just say, those people haven't entered the temple yet.”
They grunted. “Traveling through time, then? Doesn't seem that complicated to me.
“Well, Etho, I am the gorgon Cleo. I'm the scourge of this temple, as they say, so I'm supposed to chase out or kill anyone who dares enter, but...” a small smile quirked their lips. “Well, clearly I can't get rid of you, because you have to be around in the future to send these people to me. So it looks like I'll have to... tolerate your presence near me.” Despite their words expressing disappointment, Cleo's voice didn't sound disappointed at all. They sounded happy about it, even.
“...Thank you?” Etho replied. He decided to keep to himself the fact that he was unlikely to stay here for much longer if there really were barely any people. Unfortunately, they did have a point; causality dictates that he would have to hunt here at some point in time, and it didn't seem like he would ever be able to get to Cleo, given the amount of eyes they had. So, it would be better to keep them happy for now.
“You're welcome,” Cleo replied, still smiling. “So, I understand you can't move as long as I'm looking at you?”
“Maybe,” Etho replied. “Maybe I'm just standing really still for fun, though.”
they laughed at that. “Right. Well, I can't keep you here forever, so I suppose I'll get out of your way for now. Until we meet again, angel Etho.”
With that, Cleo turned around and walked back the way they came. Before turning the corner, they looked back to see Etho still standing where he was; some of the snakes on their head had been lookng in his general direction still. They waved at Etho.
Then they turned, and as soon as Etho was removed from all their lines of sight, he was gone. That was by far the strangest conversation he'd ever had. It looked like he would have to abandon this hunting ground, which was a shame-- it really would have been a fun one, had it not already been occupied. Although, the gorgon didn't seem to mind sharing the space with him. they seemed happy about it, even. That was the weirdest thing; never before had he ended a conversation with someone on good terms. They always ended with one person hunting the other-- but he could never hunt Cleo, and they could never hunt him, so instead they were... friendly with each other. Fascinating.
Maybe he'd give the temple another shot after all.
_ _ _
This is it, Grian thought to himself as he took a deep breath, then stepped through the gate-like shape of the rubble, into the gate filled with statues. His head swiveled around, looking for one that seemed out of place. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect-- well, no. He knew exactly what to expect: a talking statue. That's what this ruin was known for, after all. He just didn't know the details; what did the statue look like? Did it move as well as talk? This place didn't have as much documentation as other monsters' domains in the area, which is exactly why Grian was drawn to it.
“Hello, weary traveler!” A voice suddenly spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. Grian turned around to see the answer to his questions: a stone statue of a winged figure, wearing a scarf across his face. He was standing with his hands on his hips. “What brings you here?” he asked.
“Oh. You, mostly,” Grian replied. Honestly, he wasn't expecting his exploration to be over so soon. Did the statue really have to come right to him?
“Aww, me? You shouldn't have. I'm just a humble tour guide.” Grian never saw the angel move, but every time he blinked he had a different stance- and was standing slightly closer to Grian. “There's so many beautiful statues here. Don't you want to take a look at them?”
Grian shrugged. He might as well make the most of this trip. “Sure. Lead the way.”
“Great!” the angel responded, and didn't move. Grian blinked, and he moved about a foot, then stopped again. “Uh, maybe you following me isn't the most efficient way to do this. Just wander around, and I'll provide the commentary.”
Grian snorted, then followed the angel's advice and started looking around the yard. The first thing he noticed was that all the statues-- apart from the angel-- were naked. Some of them were holding what looked like weapons and shields, but they were rotting, not sculpted from stone like the bodies. And most of them were striking thoroughly unimpressive poses. The whole thing weirded Grian out a little. The statues didn't look anything like what he would call art, realistic though they were. “Do you have any idea who made these?” he asked the angel.
“An old friend of mine,” he replied. Then he asked: “So, I'm famous, huh?”
“Yeah, kind of.” Grian turned around and searched the room for the angel, and saw that he was standing between some sculptures, filling a gap in the rows. He fit there weirdly well. “Everyone knows this as the ruin with the talking statue. Uh- do you have a name, by the way?”
“Etho.”
Grian hummed. It was a surprisingly... modern name. “My name's Grian,” he replied, then continued looking at the statues. He'd noticed some of them were covered in some weird dust, which he figured might be the remains of fabric clothing. Whoever made these statues had apparently decided to dress them in actual clothes, instead of simply sculpting them clothed. In order to avoid looking at what the decayed clothing was failing to cover, Grian now focused on the faces of the sculptures. Some of them-- mostly the ones holding decayed weaponry-- had an expression of noble determination on their face, but the majority of the statues looked scared. And they were incredibly detailed; to the point it gave Grian the creeps. “Your friend had some... interesting artistic visions,” he said.
The angel-- Etho-- chuckled. “Isn't it great?” he asked. Grian decided his honest answer to that might not be what Etho wanted to hear, so he didn't respond.
Etho spoke up again. “'The ruin with the talking statue', you say... is that all this place is known for?”
“...I think so, yeah. Why?”
“No stories about, like... people who go inside and never return?”
That did not help with Grian's creeps in the slightest. “Why would you ask that!?” he asked, spinning around to face Etho.
“Oh, no reason. Hey, have you seen that statue there yet?” he replied, moving with a blink to point somewhere behind Grian.
Grian hesitated to turn around, suddenly worried what Etho might do behind his back. This feels like a trap, he thought; but at the same time, he was very curious what the angel was getting at. He took a few steps backwards, ensuring that Etho didn't get too close to him-- then he turned around. Behind him was another statue with face and limbs contorted in apparent terror- A very familiar face, actually. The face Grian saw every time he looked into the mirror. Grian's blood ran cold. There was a statue of him in this ruin. Why the hell was there a statue of him? Was this some kind of elaborate prank someone pulled on him? The statue's moles lined up exactly with his own. No, it couldn't be a prank, he hadn't brought anybody with him on this trip. He was alone in this ruin with Etho- Etho! Grian whirled around to face the angel, but couldn't find him. He'd only been turned around for a few seconds, where could he have gone?
“Oh, wonderful!” Grian heard a voice behind him, and spun around again to find Etho's face inches from his own, his hand reaching towards the scarf around his neck. “Looks like you get to meet my old friend!”
Grian backed away, breathing deeply. He looked at Etho, avoiding blinking as long as possible- but it wasn't long enough. The second his eyes closed, he heard an indescribable static noise and felt a horrible squeezing sensation around his entire body... And then it was over, and Grian was still in the ruin, and he felt fine. Except... was he still in the ruin? The sun was coming from a different angle, the place looked less decrepit than it did before, and there were significantly less statues. There was no sign of Etho.
“What in the... Etho?” Grian called out, his terror having mostly changed into confusion. “Hello?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
[note: the bits in IPA read "Etho?" "Hello?" and "What are you-" respectively.]
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minecraftbookshelf · 10 months
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To Walk a Mile In Each Others Shoes: Bad Math
Summary: The soulbonds have consequences, and for some they are more welcome than others. Martyn & Cleo Edition
Characters: InTheLittleWood & ZombieCleo
Word Count: 267
General Note: I'm posting these as separate one-shot style posts for each soulbond pair. They are all written but I have them queued up and spaced out. All posted will be on this blog under the tag "to walk a mile in each others shoes," linked at the bottom of the other posted ones, and also on my AO3, which is linked on my pinned post.
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His skin is falling off.
He notices half-way through building the Heart, when he stops for food and realizes that his arm is the wrong color.
A quick inspection shows a few more spots, on his cheek, on his side, on his thigh, where the skin has either changed texture to a leathery, dead feel, or is coming off altogether.
A few more days and there is a stiffness in his limbs that wasn't there before, joints protesting every time he moves as if they are supposed be stiff and still. As if rigor mortis is trying to set in.
Almost hysterically Martyn wonders if soon he'll be as rotten and hollow inside as he feels.
-
Cleo doesn't make a habit out of letting themself be fussed by things they can't control. It's a waste of time and energy and she has much better things to do.
But whatever is going on is weird and she doesn't like it.
The closest they can describe it, when Scott asks is an impending sense of vertigo. Like the world itself might fall out from under them at any moment. Like the very fabric of reality might be snatched away.
Also she's gained some of the more standard living sensations back and its altogether unpleasant. She hasn't been able to feel or taste or smell this well in a very long time and. It's a lot.
And pain. They haven't felt this sharp kind of pain in so long. It hurts in a way only Life can, when they have long become used to the ache of Undeath.
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Team Ranchers || Team Box || Dessert Duo || The Boat Boys || The Homewreckers || Bad Math || Tilly Death Do Us Part
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hermitcraftx · 2 months
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I agree with your post about hermit fans in regard to things being very popular. I’ve seen more people being angry and annoyed about scarian in the last six months than people celebrating it. Not tagging shipping is shit but it’s better than harassing people. I don’t know what was put in the water but something changed drastically and I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s seen it.
IT'S FUCKING INSANE! This fandom used to be so positive and welcoming and overall way more pleasant than some... other MCYT fandoms, but now??? I can't log on without seeing untagged negative interpretations in the main tags, can't express an opinion without getting anons calling me heterosexual sympathizers and hoping that I die, everyone has turned their back on everything that used to make this fandom really... fun? Like, I don't tag ON MY BLOG, but usually I don't maintag my shipping posts, and if I do, I tag the ship name so people can filter it.... I don't maintag duo names. What the fuck happened to make everyone so- miserable. Anons are probably going to be permanently off for me, too many people comfortable with their opinions and not comfortable with mine and desperately needing to tell me that.
And like- look. I get not liking interpretations. Personally I'm not a fan of the Double Life cheating arc because of how abusive and out of character people made Grian be, and I had to avoid ao3 for a bit because of that and filter the fucking tags. Same thing with found family dynamics. Just because you don't like something doesn't make it "overrated and popular" and just because you don't like something doesn't make it immoral or unethical either!!! People have to make everything a moral standpoint nowadays and it's really exhausting-
But that's a tirade. All over all the confessions blogs there's "scarian is overrated" despite Grian having nearly 10mil subscribers and most of them being on YouTube and considering all the hermits friends or family truthing them. Yes, there is more shipping than before- that's because Hermitcraft season 8 made it very obvious that the people on the SMP and the people IRL are very different, and it's no longer considered RPF. None of the real hermits died via moon explosion, ZombieCleo often says she's doing "lore", they make different skins, even GRIAN acknowledges that he's acting and playing a part with the permit office. Despite all that, there's STILL wars on shipping and people insisting that we're shipping real people, I fought this war on the DSMP side of things and it's SO TIRING.
DND podcast listeners, do you ship the people playing the characters? NO!!!!! Unless you do, in which case, have fun with that. I don't really care about RPF and I filtered the tags for it a long time ago, so maybe they do do that.
Every other day I see "Third life is overrated" "Last life is overrated" (LAST LIFE IS OFTEN THE LEAST FAVORITE SEASON I SEE PEOPLE SAY!), "the life series is overrated" "the cactus ring is fucking stupid" "they left the desert but we didn't" "no, THIS interpretation of scarian is bad and wrong" and like... guys. Guys. Fandom is supposed to be fun. It is not supposed to be a full time job. It is not supposed to be moral or ethical and you shouldn't feel the need to police shit. Jesus Christ, every other month there's a new fad that tumblr users flock to and once it's over everyone goes "EWWW THAT WAS LAME AND OVERRATED AND I NEVER LIKED IT ANYWAY" like.... I promise you cannibalism as an allegory for love is not mainstream you are just on Tumblr.
Like Good God. If it's so bad here go to Twitter. I'm sick of all the complaining and misery and hatred and I miss when things were fun- people are so scared of being cliche that they don't want to write things that they enjoy. Where are the coffee shop aus???? Where are the fun silly things??? Where are the 100k grimdark fics with worldbuilding??? Wheres the 500k fics that aren't even about the same characters anymore but that we love just the same??? Where are the forums and people talking to each other in comments and meeting each other that way??? Where are the roleplay servers?????? What are you all doing??????
People are scared of being judged. They want to do what everyone else is doing. They don't want to be cringe or cliche and every day I see a "cringe culture is dead" post and then someone making fun of another part of fandom, an antithesis to their previous statement. They don't want to be late to things, either. Who cares if Last Life was a couple years ago? Draw the fanart anyway!
I'm scared. Maybe I'm just old, but every post I see I notice that I get maybe a 10th in reblogs of what I do in likes, and I don't even post my art or fics to this site. Every post is like that. More and more people only like posts and they die, unseen, by everyone. More and more people misuse archive of our own's functions, treating it like it has some algorithm, when it doesn't, and it never has and hopefully never will. I see fic reuploads to "gain traction" (not how it works) and people reaching out to find RP partners (breaking TOS) and all sorts of other shit on both sites and it fucking horrifies me. I'm not even that old- I'm eighteen, and I can already tell how fandom has changed for the worst for everyone. Fandom used to be a community. Not consumption.
It's just... sad. Old fandom had PLENTY of fucking problems, and we have problems here too, but at least the positives outweighed the negatives. It's so... mean here, now. Even the happy things are mean-spirited. People treat it as if certain people have invaded this fandom space, spreading horrible opinions and ruining it for everyone, but the truth is is that shipping is always going to be a thing. It's a foundation of fandom- fandom started with housewives in the 1950s writing Star Trek fanfiction. You can never get rid of shipping. You can just interact with what you want to interact with and leave others to mind their own business.
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fountainpenguin · 5 months
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"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)
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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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mattress-ing · 5 months
Text
Turning human (in a zombie apocalypse (pretty sure that's not supposed to happen))
500~ word SL!Zombiecleo drabble, contains spoilers for up to session 8, body horror, mentions of drowning
Another copy/paste notes app drabble, here be grammar mistakes
If there's one thing Cleo didn't expect, it was turning human in a zombie apocalypse.
She’d died a zombie. All the usual bits out of place in the way they always were -really, their decaying body wasn’t that hard to keep running once they figured out how to tell the difference between this decay spot needs air and this decay spot needs to be wrapped for a few weeks. Not feeling anything helped.
Unfortunately, having an extra exit for the water in their lungs didn’t help when there was no air around to replace it.
Bonus mental note: they still have to breathe.
They’d meant to test that one in a more controlled environment eventually but answers are answers they suppose.
When Cleo wakes up, breathing sharply for a few moments, she knows instantly that something’s off.
Her left lung usually makes a hissing sound when she breathes- stray arrows, everyone’s been there. And it doesn’t feel. Neither of them do. Or at least, they didn’t.
She goes to touch her lung. On a bad day, one where her body seems extra keen on decaying, she’s found a quick lung squeeze can help the air go in and out a little easier. She's become quite adept at blood and guts. Mostly her own.
Sighing, and closing their eyes to focus on ignoring the nauseating waves of pain, they put their fingers to their ribs, poking for any exit or entrance wounds. Somewhere to just get in and get after it. After a moment, they frown, and look down. It’s rare they’re completely healed and they’d been pretty sure there was an unhealed arrow wound somewhere in the chest area.
There’s skin.
Cleo opens their mouth but, before making a noise, decides that having skin is something people don’t scream about. She sits there for a moment, and brings a hand up to her face. Her mouth feels weird too now that she’s thinking about it. There's no more breeze from her left cheek filtering over her teeth when she moves.
“Huh.”
All of a sudden, her stomach rumbles and she pinpoints one source of the pain in her... everywhere. Hunger.
It’s jarring. And it seems to only get worse when she names it. Her stomach is cramping from its emptiness and it sends waves of pain through her lungs, stuttering her breathing. Breathing that she was already having trouble with.
It’s been so long since her body has been this kind of a problem. It’s surprisingly easy to intuitive what her body needs when she can see some of her organs. Now it’s all guess work and her faint memories of being alive.
They struggle, using clumsy fingers to pull a piece of bread out of their bag. When it hits their tongue, surprised and overwhelmed tears well in their eyes. It tastes. It’s subtle. But it's there, it's so beautiful. And when it, and another piece, and another are down, they feel full.
They feel full.
Cleo laughs, and cries, and takes a singular bite out of an apple, not because they’re hungry, but because they can taste it. They can feel the crunch like before, but it's combined with the wash of sweet apple juice to her mouth like a golden sunset.
Before their face has dried they stand, knees and hips and bones protesting their skin as they grip the apple to bruising, relearning to walk. It’s the unworking of years of decay in all at once. They press on.
She looks in the mirror. There, in the midst of the pink flesh of her flushed face, yellow eyes.
Her blood, only recently renewed, runs cold. She narrows her eyes.
She may be human now, but there’s still a zombie apocalypse outside. They're dying quicker than her, victory is within her grasp.
They draw their sword, and step out into the sun. They can taste it.
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ahautism · 7 months
Text
MCYT Yuri Week - Day 1 - Break
(crossposted on ao3)
It’s stressful work, preparing for the competitions. El tries to brush it off for the camera, usually, but it gets tiring, to put it simply. And she’s grateful to Cleo for teaching her, she really is, but their… shape… magic… thingy makes El’s brain hurt. She’s also not sure why a time witch has specced so heavily into explosions, but hey, to each her own.
Luckily, Cleo notices that she’s… a bit lost, and stops teaching for a second.
“Need to take a break?” They ask, stepping away from the diagrams she’s drawn up, and picking up the spell components lying on the ground.
“I… yeah. If you don’t mind.” She laughs awkwardly. Cleo sits down on the ground where they’d been practicing – the un-exploded part, and gestures for El to sit beside her. When El obliges, and sits beside Cleo, they wrap their arm around her, pulling her closer in to their chest. Her skin is soft, and almost warm enough to be alive after so long in the sun. A soft breeze flutters around them, making Cleo’s robes flutter slightly, exposing a bit more of her thigh, big and soft, stitched together from different pieces of skin that El doesn’t want to know the origins of. She leans against their chest, and lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Cleo chuckles a little, and rubs her shoulder.
“That any better?” She asks, leaning back against the whiteboard she had been using to diagram. El blushes, just a little. Hopefully Cleo doesn’t notice. They’re too perceptive.
Suddenly, she’s behind a quiz show pedestal, one of those annoying show host guys, dressed in a velvet tuxedo welcoming the audience back from the break.
“Welcome back to the Gobber Games Quiz Extravaganza! We have a new question for our lovely contestant since the break, and she even gets multiple choices this time! Drumroll please…” The drumroll sound effect plays, and Eloise groans out loud as the question is read out to her.
“How much of a crush does SoupforEloise have on ZombieCleo? Is it…
A.) A lot!
B.) An embarrassing amount!
C.) More than she thinks!
or…
D.) All of the above!
What does our contestant think?”
The host shoves the microphone in her face. El puts her head in her hands.
“E! None of the above! Stop this, come on guys!” A loud incorrect buzzer sounds.
“I’m sorry, that is not correct! The correct answer was D.) All of the above!” The studio audience boos. El hates her life right now.
“Worry not, our contestant still gets a consolation prize! This beautiful mug that says “Tell her you like her!” El walks off stage, to the host still yelling game show jargon at her, and wakes up, still in Cleo’s arms. She hates these dreams.
“You okay? You looked like whatever was happening in that dream, you were annoyed by it.” Cleo asks, and El goes bright red.
“Uh… yeah, haha! Just weird dreams, you know how it is.” Cleo shrugs.
“Just wanted to make sure.” They seem so… sure of herself. El is amazed at how it seems like she can just… take up space, without worrying about it. She’s a trickster witch, sure, but… the attention is usually on her pranks, not her. Usually, if the attention is on her, if she takes up space, it means she’s done something wrong, but with Cleo, she seems so solidly herself, so present, even if she claims to be about a hundred versions of herself, scattered across tons of timelines. El admires it, admires her. Cleo removes her hand from around El’s shoulders, jerking her out of her thoughts, and back into the real world.
“Ready to get back to it? That competition isn’t going to win itself, you know.” El jumps to her feet.
“You really think I’m going to win?”
“Of course you are. You’re in the most powerful coven around. And I don’t leave people behind.” Cleo sounds so sure of it, even though she and Scott could have so easily have just paired up, still been the most powerful group on the server, and scorned everyone else. Instead, though, Cleo took her under their wing, and believed in her, believed she could be just as powerful as they were. And then she just… made it happen. Like it was that simple. Scott had said the same to her too.
“Once Cleo decides you’re with her, she never gives up on you.” Then he had frowned. “I’m not sure how I know that. But I can feel that it’s true, you know?” El didn’t know either. But the more time she spends with Cleo, the more sure she is that Scott had been right, and that she likes being one of Cleo’s people.
When she wins the competition a few days later, and sees Cleo cheering her on from the stands, El finally starts to feel like maybe she can do it. Maybe she can be Supreme Witch. Maybe she can make friends. Maybe she can even follow that annoying game show host’s prodding, and tell Cleo she likes her.
@mcyt-yuri-week
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Note
zombiecleo is stitched together. one of these stiches is on the right side of her face(her right your left). it goes up from the base of her ear up over her cheek, just dodging her nose, and up across her forehead and up into her hair.
Contrary to what people assume, her stitches are not from being Frankenstein'd together out of multiple parts. Because of her zombie nature, her wounds don't heal naturally as living skin would. By now she's learned how to use harming potions to heal herself, but some injuries from the early days of her undeath were left too long untended to heal properly. She doesn't mind, really - it's not like she can get an infection and die or anything - but it's a good reminder of what can happen if she goes too long without caring for herself.
~ Mod Shade
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lunamoon-101 · 5 months
Text
COSMIC LIFE
Grian: Sun (Grian = sun in Irish, plus the desert is sunny)
Scott: Stars (Starborne origin in Origins SMP, just generally fits the theme, the things around his head look kinda like stars)
Pearl: Moon (PearlecentMoon. It's in the name)
Martyn: Mars (Martyn means 'Dedicated to Mars'. Mars is the Roman god of war and Martyn won by fighting a lot)
Scar: Comet (Came second in 3rd life and has come back and won secret life, like how comits orbit(?))
Gem: Jupiter (Astrologically, Jupiter is the planet of luck (among other things), and Gem had very good beginners luck. The colour scheme also fits)
Jimmy: Pluto (hard to make aliances when you are always out first, and pluto is distant from the other planets. Not seen as the same as the rest, like Jimmy because he's always out first. Pluto is the Roman god of the underworld and Jimmy always(ish) dies first. Pluto is small and Jimmy is a toy (which are small). Small is also associated with weak and Jimmy is always out first which is associated with weakness)
Mumbo: Earth (Has a sort of grounding personality, 3rd out in SL, and earth is the 3rd planet from the sun. Also, mounders)
Cleo: Black hole (Black holes are scary and Cleo is scary. Black holes are also dead stars and Cleo is 'ZombieCleo')
Etho: Ether (Scientists in the 19th century believed the Ether to be a universal substance that made up the universe (or ssomething along those lines) tying into the fact that Etho had a big impact on Minecraft from the early game which is still prominant to this day. The theory was also made a long time ago tying into the fact that Etho started YT and his channel blew up earlier than most, and the fact that he is the OG Minecrafter.
Lizzie: Saturn (Married to Joel, and Joel is Saturn's asteroid belt/rings)
Joel: Saturn's asteroid belt (Married to Lizzie and Lizzie is Saturn)
Bdubs: Blanet (Stays around Cleo, who is the black hole. Blanets are also small and Bdubs is short)
Tango: Venus (Venus is the hottest planet. Tango's skin is fiery themed and most fans imagine his hair as being on fire)
Impulse: Pulsar (a pulsar is a small, dense ball of neutrons that sometimes happens when a big star dies. Beams that come from this pulse at regular intervals, like a drumbeat, and Impulse plays the drums. Also, Im-pulse, and Pulsar are similar, and Pulsar means pulse in Spanish (and some other languages) which is the last part of Impulse's name)
BigB: Event horizon (An event horizon is the point of no return from a black hole, and cleo and bigb's alliance was at a point of no return after Bigb's boogie kill. Event horizons are also round-ish like cookies)
Skizz: Meteor (Rushed in and got himself killed in 3rd life + last life, and meteors are rocks that get into the earth's atmosphere and sometimes crash into it)
Ren: Dark matter (Shadow alliance. He was also missing for two consecuitive seasons (LimL and SL) and dark matter is kinda mysterious)
This was worked on by me and various other members of the r/hermitcraft discord, and is also being posted here and in other social media platforms by several of us
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bgech · 2 years
Text
What's up besties? I'll tell yah, school. Kickin my ass once agian. Whatever. Double life halfslab have my whole heart, this is way more shippy than I intended, enjoy. 3409 words.
Tw for vomit tho, stay safe <3
--
Sometimes Etho will get skittish and quiet as he sinks into the recesses of the world to sulk or think or do whatever he does when he vanishes.
It seems to be happening now, which is unfortunate because "now" is the middle of a death game.
Etho was fighting off some pillagers and Joel, foolish as he was, thought it'd be funnier if he just sat by and watched. It was funny to Joel ok? Etho is perfectly capable of taking care of a few pillagers and often refuses help if offered in a situation not dissimilar to this. So Joel thought he'd be in the clear with watching his soulbound jump away from most of the arrows and keep on the offensive.
Maybe it was because they were red, maybe it was something else, but even though they never dropped below five hearts -Joel made sure of it- after Etho was done disposing of the pillagers he walked past Joel without a wink of acknowledgement. Immediately Joel stopped his teasing about porcupines and pin cushions to follow Etho into the Relation.
He was too slow up the ladder though, by the time he made it below deck Etho was gone.
It's not the worst thing that can happen, their health isn't going down so he's not in any immediate danger, but even though they have all ten hearts, Etho still got shot. A lot. Healing doesn't pull arrows out of skin, in fact it makes it worse as the arrows are now healed in, granted they're deep enough. Joel can feel the uncomfortable pulling as they're shifted while Etho moves.
He feels a sharp pain on the back of his leg, one that sends him to sit on his bed while it passes. It's not enough to take a heart away so he can't even eat to heal it. Etho's pulling out the arrows somewhere, alone, probably in the dark. Despite his nature to lurk in the deepest shadows and slink away to seep into the void, he hates the dark. Joel knows he hates the dark.
When Etho went with Impulse down into the deep dark he came back with not much enchanted gear and way too many torches. Every square inch of their base was bright as daylight, to the point where Joel couldn't sleep. He asked Etho about it a few days later and got him to confess that he hated dark spots. Still wasn't used to the new spawn patterns of all that go bump in the night.
There was another pain, this one in his shoulder, this one a lot worse. It took a few hearts and when Etho decided that healing was optional, Joel decided to find him. He was going to give him space and time to be alone, etho likes his own company more than anyone else's and is probably the only person Joel knows where it's a better idea to let them isolate. But if etho isn't gonna take care of himself he needs finding.
Now, finding etho is one of those things that doesn't happen. Especially when he vanishes. Etho does not want to be found so he will stay hidden. Joel knows this, everyone knows this. So how is Joel gonna do it? Well he's gonna cheat.
<Smallishbeans> etho's gone
<Grian> that's our problem because...?
<TangoTek> ditched ya?
<Smallishbeans> no, he's gone. like, sunk into the cracks of your server gone.
<ZombieCleo> oh shit!
<Pearlescentmoon> uh oh!!
<Grian> o no, ok, everyone stay put, stay still, joel i'll be right there
He hates to make Grian go all admin mode in the middle of a session but..well even though it's just a game Joel has become quite attached to Etho, and would like him to not be bleeding somewhere in the dark.
Grian does arrive, in all of his purple eyed glory, to ask exactly what had happened to make Etho run off into the night. At which Joel had to look Grian in his many, many eyes and admit that he was being a bit of an asshole while Etho was getting shot, at which Grian just looked..so disappointed. Mostly at Joel, some at himself, but man. A many eyed disappointed stare has a lot more power than the normal, expected, two eye experience.
Joel just feels worse when Grian sighs, rolls his shoulders, and blips away in a flurry of obstructed code and feathers. He decides to just go inside and make sure he has enough bandaids to cover for all the freakin arrow holes Etho is sure to have. So he sits there, twiddling his thumbs until he hears Grian shout something indignant from over the hills and Etho comes skittering in through a window, some arrows still in him.
He freezes briefly when he catches sight of Joel but when Grian's footfalls sound on the deck he scrambles under Joel's bed. Etho's an arctic fox but he's a sewer rat man at his core. He steals, he vanishes, he squeezes into places he Very Much Shouldn't be able to fit in. And, and he lives in the walls, in the basements of the world, so it's no surprise when he chooses to burrow underneath something when push comes to shove.
Grain climbs down the ladder, holding Etho's jacket and looking more out of breath than Joel has seen him during the whole damn game. He tosses the coat at Joel's face, muttering something about fixing his mistakes and Etho being a "slippery little shit when he wants to be". Grian then fucks off to probably fix whatever he broke chasing Etho back home.
They sit for a while in the quiet, the only sounds being the critters outside in the night.
"He's gone," Joel says to the empty air, "you can come out now, I don't bite" Etho shifts under the bed, his fluffy tail brushing against the back of Joel's ankle making him jump.
"Etho I know you hate the dark, and I know for damn sure you're bleeding all over my nice floors under there"
Etho responds with a very respectable growl.
"I know, I was mean to you, shouldn't have been," he dangles a box of bandaids below the bed frame, "I've got batman bandaids," he sing-songs, "and I'll make you some borscht"
Etho snatches the box and tells him to go away, which he does. If Etho wants privacy, then privacy he shall get. Plus he promised him borscht and like hell Joel is going back on that.
Making borscht is not a skill Joel has honed, but living with etho has made him learn how to make a decent pot. He gets through the whole process before he feels Etho pull out another arrow, this one rips at the skin more than he'd have liked to know and he hears a stifled yelp from the window.
Balancing two bowls of borscht, holding spoons, and climbing down a ladder is hard and he's suddenly very thankful that he built the Relation. Unbeknownst to everyone there's a trap door at ground level, which he uses to enter instead of breaking his neck on the way down.
Now, Etho is not a pitiful man. Though he's wire thin, impressively quiet and often alone, he's a very respectable player. He's profound in redstone, great at building and not half bad at pvp, especially in the forever vaguely mentioned "good ol' days". But looking at him now, it is hard to believe. In nothing but his trousers and mask he's struggling to reach an arrow lodged between his shoulder blades, ears pinned to the side of his head, he's really got the Kicked Puppy look about him.
"Etho," he doesn't startle, just turns to look at Joel with mistrust, backing away with his hands slightly raised, "can I get that for you etho?"
"..you actually made borscht?"
" 'course I did, you can eat it while I, y'know, make you less full of holes?"
"mm, ok, fine"
"Thank you, I'll be gentle I promise"
"You don't need to be gentle Joel, I can take a little pain y'know"
"I know just," he takes a breath, "just let me do this for you Etho, think of it like an apology hm?"
Etho's ears perk up for a moment before swiveling like he's misheard. He glances at all the corners of the room, a perimeter check, before taking the offered bowl and spoon and sitting on Joel's bed. Not his own, because it's been overturned to make a nice little cave for him to sleep in.
He reaches up to lower his mask but hesitates, throwing a glance back at Joel who's getting a cloth saturated with warm water and his ears flick back again.
"I won't look Eth, just enjoy the stew"
Etho turns away, lowering his mask and taking a sip, "it's a soup"
"Right right, my bad, soup it is. I'm gonna get this arrow out now, ok?"
"..ok"
With the help of the warm cloth and proper angling the arrow slides out without much protest. His back twitches at the feeling involuntarily but Etho's still happily eating the borscht and Joel can confirm that it didn't hurt too bad. He thought about making a comment along the lines of "isn't that better than ripping em out" but it'd do more harm than good so he keeps it to himself.
He replaces the arrow with a patch and puts a bandaid on top for good measure. There's a few other spots that Etho missed or just didn't have time to get to so he starts on cleaning away the dried blood and patching up those too. By the time that Etho's back is clean and bandaged he's finished his borscht and his head is bobbing slightly.
"You falling asleep etho?"
"Mmm"
"D'you wanna get in your cave or..?"
"..maybe." He leans back, mask back in place, and knocks his forehead against Joel's ribs, "maybe not..?"
"What's got you so clingy?" He asked as brushes his thumb over etho's forehead, sweeping back unruly bangs, "not that I'm complaining but, you've never been..well like this, I suppose"
"You're not dark"
"I'm not what?"
"It's still dark and..well, you're not" it was now that Joel noticed that etho's hands looked to be dipped in black ink, the space around his eyes having the same treatment, like eyeliner on a rainy day. "Can you stay here till it's bright again?"
"Oh, Etho of course I can, just, ok just give me a moment alright?"
Etho, albeit very reluctantly, lets himself be detangled from Joel, who gets up to change into something to sleep in. He also puts away Etho's empty bowl and his still full one to save for later. He contacts Grian that everything is ok, who then contacts the rest of the server saying the session can continue. By the time he returns Etho has decided that waiting up for him was overrated and inefficient. He's commandeered Joel's blanket to wrap around himself with his head under the pillow. That's right, under it.
The left side of the bed is still free and Etho did say he wanted him to stay, so instead of awkwardly trying to disturb whatever peace etho's found, he just climbs in next to him and opens his book to read. Etho curls around him and comes out from under the pillow to shove his masked face into Joel's side. Joel makes the mistake of glancing down after a paragraph only to make eye contact with Etho's best puppy eyes.
Here's the thing about Etho's eyes. They're pretty large in comparison to the rest of his face, maybe it's because of the mask blocking everything else from sight, but fact of the matter is Etho has big, sad eyes and he knows it. He uses it to his advantage at every turn, every moment he can he puts on the Sad Eyes and he'll get what he wants. This is all well and good, except for the fact that Joel doesn't know what he wants.
"What is it?"
Etho whines at him, a very distinctly not human sound.
"Do you want me to read aloud? That it?"
Etho settles back to his previous position, letting his eyes relax into the half closed state they're usually in.
Alright then, he can read out loud. Not well nobody said he was good at it, but it can be done, and if it'll keep Etho calm for the night then who's he to say no?
And though every time he reaches a character name and he has to pronounce it out loud for the first time, failing at least twice, and every time he comes across a word like "grotesque" he has to fight back the urge to say "gro-tes-que", Etho seems to be enjoying himself. How does he know? Well Etho's wrapped himself up in a little burrito roll, every part of him covered, save for his face of course, and the very end of his tail. The end of a tail which is constantly tapping away on the mattress.
As long as he's happy, Joel is happy too.
He gets through a surprising amount of the book before Etho gives it up and closes his eyes. He had been blinking lazily for the past however long, obviously exhausted from whatever run around he did avoiding grian, but trying to stay awake anyway. But now he lay still as a rock, tucked carefully into Joel's side. Joel himself is just as tired so he decides that a nap won't hurt. It's not really a nap now that it's past midnight, it's just sleep, but he has a bit of a sneaking suspicion that the Dark will be making another appearance before the sun rises.
He drifts off easily, how can he not? He's warm and safe and he's got someone curled around him, holding him gently. He doesn't dream, never has, and maybe he never will. It doesn't matter to him.
What does matter is the fact that he's been proven right. He usually likes being proven right because that means he wins, he was correct all along and they were foolish to think otherwise. He does not like being proven right when it's about the dark. They've only been through it once before, etho's first night after the warden shenanigans went down. He had gone under his bed into the cave he'd built, only to wake Joel up when he jolted awake and tried to run. Thing about having a cave for a bed is the escape routes are one way and quite narrow, so in his panic to get out of the dark and away from the warden that he was sure was right there, he ran into just about every corner and wall on his way out.
Needless to say that it hurt and combined with the pain and the noise Joel was awake and at his side fairly quickly. Joel, for all he's worth, is not the greatest at calming people down, he knows this. So in his attempt to stop Etho from suffocating them to death via panic attack, he got them both outside and made etho stare at the sun for a few minutes. It didn't calm him down at all, but the confusion of why he was unceremoniously dragged outside and then forced to look at the big ball of burning gas was enough of a puzzle to get him to breathe again. Maybe the wind and light was what did it, who knows.
It was a big win for everybody involved.
Staring at the sun, while a nice confusion tactic, hurts the eyes and is not actually recommended by anyone of any sorts of smarts. So maybe don't stare at the sun, it'll hurt ur eyes
Anyway, Joel was proven right when at around 3, maybe 4, Etho's subconscious decided that it was no longer a good idea to be asleep. Joel woke up to etho sitting up rather abruptly. In his sleepy haze he didn't realize why and was honestly just annoyed that his pillow had left him.
"Y'aright etho"
He doesn't get an answer, just a wet sounding cough, which is bad for a lot of reasons. Is it blood? Vomit? Just spit stuck in Etho's throat?
"Etho"
He sits up and puts a hand on Etho's shoulder, trying to turn him around to maybe get a better idea of what's wrong. Etho shakes his head and pulls away, coughing into his hand again, sounding worse than before.
"Bucket?"
He nods and coughs again, doubling over as it doesn't stop. Joel gets up from the bed and tries to find a bucket before Etho's willpower loses against whatever is choking him but in all his frantic searching he finds nothing but the empty borscht bowl from earlier. If it's as bad as it sounds the bowl is not going to be nearly enough, he has to find a goddam bucket, or Etho is going to drown in his own misery in front of him and, oh it was staring him right in the face the whole time.
He returns to Etho's side not a moment later and shoves the bucket under him just as Etho's hand moves out of the way and he makes a god awful retching sound. Joel looks away for common courtesy, nobody likes to be looked at when they throw up, but he doesn't move from his post next to Etho. He knows from personal experience that it's good to have something solid to lean on after a long bout of throwing up, and while the wall is there it's probably not very nice to bump into after a go like this.
So he stays while Etho continues to spit and hack into the bucket and he stays when Etho starts to cry in between heaves of sour smelling, bloody looking gunk. He stays a warm presence at his side as Etho coughs and coughs again, trying to rid himself of the Dark that's crawled inside his lungs and infected his stomach. He's there to catch him when Etho finally, finally finishes and crumples to the side. He lets etho recover for a moment before he gets up to get him a wet rag to wipe his face with. He then takes the bucket outside and burns it. And when he gets back from his impromptu bonfire he'll give etho a cold glass of water and make a show of turning around so he can drink.
"Feeling any better?"
"Mm-mm" Etho shakes his head negative
"I sort of figured," Etho huffed a laugh, "but I am sorry that whatever..that..was happened"
Etho didn't respond, just hummed a little and curled his arms around himself in a loose sort of hug. Joel could only see his eyes but he still looked like a sick dog about to be taken out back. He's still not got a shirt so Joel turns to find him one, that'll make him feel better, right? Not so exposed. A harder task than once thought because Etho likes to squirrel away all of his things into little holes and cubbies and containers all around which leads Joel to just give up and give Etho one of his own. With the height difference he was initially worried about it being much too small, but Etho's all legs and bone anyway, he'll be fine.
He dumps the shirt on Etho's head and settles himself back against the headboard, it is his bed after all.
Concerningly, Etho doesn't move for a few moments, somewhere Else to be sure, but he comes back fast enough that Joel isn't worried about him blipping away again. He stops staring at the back of Etho's head and turns his attention to the ceiling, counting and recounting the grooves of the wood, waiting for Etho to make a decision. A decision that's decided when he feels Etho tentatively lay down next to him, on his side, facing the wall. His hands are curled close to his face, which Joel now notes is uncovered by the normal mask. Instead it's tucked under the blanket, held in place by his hands with his nose exposed.
Etho's ears are back to being relaxed atop his head and his eyes are closed so Joel counts his blessings and settles in for more sleep.
--
I hate how this ends aach but I wanna post it before class is over lmaoo.
Shout out to all the people who stare at the sun during meltdowns, I'm one of u.
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erstwhilesparrow · 9 months
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double life fic recs
organized by session! (i.e., fics under session 4 will have spoilers up to and including session 4, fics under session 5 will have spoilers for session 5, etc.)
session 1:
these old ghosts; Thunderbirds_and_Lightning - Team Rancher Pacific Rim AU. Brutally sad, but also features: a terrific action sequence, gorgeous prose, unspeakable grief about Flower Husbands, and incredible jaeger and kaiju names.
the right thing; sparxwrites - Cleo and Scott talk the night after the first session. Short and tender and sort of a character study for all of Divorce Quartet despite the other two not being there. Joe Hills, despite also not being there, is a significant presence, which I think really elevates the whole experience.
session 2:
all is fair in love and war but i can't fight with you anymore; wizardlover - Scarian angst with a happy ending. Scar isn't stupid and also he should be allowed to go apeshit. The author is correct on both counts about this. Works out to be very sweet. (Psst. This author does great Scarian just in general -- it is worth checking out the other works in the series this fic is in!)
Detail of the Fire; canarydarity - Team Rancher hurt/comfort, patching each other up after the fire. This one feels a little like walking slowly through an art gallery -- lingering on beautiful / stately / lonely images. Inspired by a Richard Siken poem and does fun things with excerpts from the poem.
those were kinder times; SurrealSupernaturalist - Team Rancher Actually-Ranchers-Not-In-A-Death-Game AU! They escape to a farm and go on a healing arc that is nearly 10k words long. Incredibly sweet, domestic, and warm, plus angst about Jimmy as Omen of Misfortune.
session 3:
[When BigB returned from his rendezvous with Grian,]; orangeocelotmartyn - Ren and Bigb go red and figure out that this isn't going to work. They eat golden apples about it. Very good for Bigb and Ren talking about their relationship! Parting ways basically amicably! Realizing the soulmate thing is bullshit and they can and will pursue what they want!
under my skin?; Sixteenthdays - The soulbound pairs discover that their partnerships are literally, physically changing them. Features snapshot scenes from every soulbound pair as they attempt to cope with this change to varying degrees of success. A total delight all around.
you're the fool, i'm just as well; honeyblock - Pearl gets sick. Scott attempts to soldier through the effects this is having on him to deal with her. Contains: really fun / creative / piercing turns of phrase, Scott and Pearl doing that thing where it feels like they almost understand each other and then everything falls apart again, soulbonds being upsetting.
to catch a secret soulmate; wormcity - The entire server gets looped in on an attempt to find Bigb's secret soulmate. Bets are made, shenanigans are had, the sitcom energy is through the roof. Incredible character voices, and also just generally really fucking funny.
rainy day; whatcaniwriteinthis - It's a rainy day on the Double Life server, and people are waiting it out, or finding ways to occupy themselves, or reflecting on the game so far. The narration style is lots of fun, and it perfectly captures the vibes of hanging out somewhere during a torrential downpour in the late afternoon.
session 4:
[Once a week, the double life players each get one phone call to someone in the outside world.]; dmwrites - The Double Life players make off-world phone calls after session four. They gossip, or pass along life updates, or share blueprints for death machines. Hilarious, and also makes me so goddamn sad about ZombieCleo.
Soulmate-Things With Other People; savannah_owl - During the Homewreckers's pool party, people sneak off in pairs to, shall we say, hang out without their soulmates. There are good times had all around. Features relationships from Third Life, Hermitcraft, and Last Life. (savannah_owl also just has a bunch of really good Double Life fic? Worth taking a look!)
session 5:
hit the ground running; jelliegiggle, rosycheeked - Scar and Grian have a talk at Bigb's grave. Bigb is not, of course, physically there, but it is very much a fic where someone's absence is distinct and palpable. Really really good Desertduo Being Sad And Complicated And Intertwined.
session 6:
[The room is a dim basement room.]; theminecraftbee - Pearl and Scott have a bad time. Superhero AU, featuring a clandestine meeting between two people who hate each other and have no one else who will ever know them the same way. Months after reading it, I'm still obsessed with this one.
and by resilient i mean which holds; TheYesterdayShow - Martyn and Cleo have a bad time. Canon divergent: Cleo and Martyn survive to the end, and wind up talking about what they were supposed to mean to each other and what happens next. Absolutely brilliant characterization for both of them.
sugar, we're going down swinging; BananasofThorns - Etho and Joel have a-- Wait. [checks notes] Okay, honestly, they seem like they're having a fine time. Canon divergence where after outliving every other pair, Boat Boys fight to the bloody death. It's incredibly pretty and perfectly paced.
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