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atherix · 1 year

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Midnight Alley Missing Scene

Y’all wanted to see it so here we go :D

This isn’t included in Midnight Alley because it messes with the flow of the story and isn’t absolutely plot necessitated, but here we are!

CW: Manipulation, a bit of mind control (depending on how you define “mind control”), death, also uh mindbreak I guess-

The other camp isn’t hard to find. Whoever they are, they don’t seem overly concerned about keeping hidden; the light of the fire, even in the dying night, is like a beacon in the shadows.

Scar, of course, knows this trick.

He moves around, away from the obvious entrance of the camp where the light shines brightest. He moves silently, the trees and brush blocking him from sight as he takes in the camp before him.

Three people sit around a firepit, the smell of salted meat cooking over the open fire. There is a device set up, facing the wide open entrance of the camp, and when a Zombie stumbles into the camp it shoots off a number of arrows in fast succession, ripping the Zombie apart before it can even groan.

“Disappointing, just a Zombie,” one of the people says, tossing down a bone into the fire. It cracks and splinters quickly. “Was hopin’ it’d be that cute little Hybrid we saw earlier. Bet its horns would fetch a decent price.”

Anger and hatred flares up in Scar’s chest, and he regrets not letting Grian kill them now.

(It’s fine. He’ll do so much worse than that.)

He pulls his Fairy lights closer to himself, letting them shine just a little brighter, and steps into the clearing. “Well, hello there,” he says, and immediately all three strangers are on their feet, loaded crossbows pointing at Scar. He simply smiles, seeing how they freeze before they can even consider letting the arrows fly.

“Who are you?” one of them demands, though their gaze is solidly trapped on a Fairy light. A strong will, he notes. He’ll need to weave a stronger compulsion for that one.

“Well, I was passing by and saw your campfire,” he says easily, and even knowing that they have seen him already in his own camp, they are unable to even think for a moment that he might be lying. Human minds are awfully fragile like that. He steps closer, easily reaching over and lowering the crossbow one of the strangers holds- fingers barely brushing the end. He raises a brow at the person who stares at him with wide eyes.

They look almost enchanted. Scar can remember a handful of times he’s seen that expression aimed at him, but no other time has it made disgust and anger and hatred twist up in his chest like this.

(How dare this person, who so casually wished for his son’s death, look at him like this.)

However, such an expression tells Scar it’s an easy in; there is no emotion easier to manipulate than infatuation, no desire easier to twist than lust.

A man who hates another will never fully trust, but a man who loves another will hardly ever doubt. It’s the perfect recipe.

He smiles.

(He’s never done this before. It feels dirty and wrong, but it’s easy. He can see any resolve they have slip, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

He’s going to destroy them.)

“Perhaps you’d like to sit with us for breakfast?” the bandit suggests, and their companions- still struck by the Fairy lights- make a vague sound of discontent.

“Boss?” one of them utters, confused as the light in front of them flashes brighter. Whatever protest they had ready on their tongue dies before they can even form it.

“That sounds lovely,” Scar says, never breaking eye contact with the stronger-willed human. So caught up in his compulsions they don’t even notice his cold tone, his sharp gaze, the lies that lace his words- the hatred that burns in his eyes.

The other two lower their weapons and the leader gestures to the campfire, and Scar breezes by them. He takes a quick account of everything there- the arrow trap machine, the packs that a hint of gold poke out of, the mis-matched tools and bags that tell Scar they definitely did not belong to these people... a smaller backpack catches his eyes, the hand-sewn cat on it sending a wave of revulsion and anger burning through his entire being.

A child's bag.

These people know no limits.

"What are these lights?" One of them asks distantly, stumbling over the log lying by the fire as they steadfastly stare at his Fairy light. Scar turns to them, a smile verging on sneer curling his lips.

Two of them continue to stare at the Fairy lights, reaching out before pulling back quickly. The third- the 'boss'- watches only him, victim to an entirely different compulsion.

"It's nothing," he says, and in their stupors the bandits simply accept it.

"Your eyes are like gold," the leader says suddenly, hardly more than a mutter as they tilt their head at him.

"Yes," Scar agrees easily, because he can feel his magic buzzing under his skin- begging to lash out. His Fairy lights glimmer dangerously in time with his heartbeat.

He sits down now and the leader is quick to follow, dropping clumsily next to him. They offer him a strip of cured meat and Scar’s nose wrinkles at the scent, and he shakes his head. The bandit is quick to toss the meat aside and offer him a flask instead, pushing it into Scar’s hands in some semblance of polite hospitality that makes Scar’s stomach twist with disgust.

(He remembers, for a split second, the first time he met Mumbo in person. The reserved and hermitlike Vampire who had lost and lost so much, who was still so polite and kind and good despite it all. He remembers the light feeling in his chest when Mumbo smiled, the warmth of his touch when they shook hands- remembers how much he wanted as it lingered a second too long, how much he thought he couldn't have. He remembers those precious minutes before he pushed it all away.)

"What's your name?" The leader asks as their companions find their way to their seats, Fairy lights lingering in their laps. They stay silent now, unable to even think. "My name is Aaron."

"A pleasure," Scar lies, offering the bandit a dangerous smile. "Aaron, you say?"

A strange name for a bandit, he thinks, but the haze that falls like a veil over their face when he speaks tells him it's his real name.

How foolish.

"And your friends, Aaron?" he asks, leaning closer. The bandit watches him, oblivious to the way the fire flickers hotter than before.

"Jamie and Jones," the bandit answers without question, without hesitation.

"Jamie and Jones," he repeats, noting how the two in question sit up just a little straighter at the sound of their names. "Wonderful. Thank you."

"And your name?" The bandit repeats.

Scar chuckles. "You don't need it, Aaron," he says, and the other simply nods.

"Of course," they agree. Scar looks around at them, taking in their clothing and lack of sharp teeth, their rounded ears and long, bony fingers. Their fingernails are dirty and not sharp, cut short towards the bed.

"You're all human," he notes.

"Of course!" One of the others- Jones, he believes- proudly thumps a hand against their own chest, puffing up. Scar frowns. "Humans are the only true people, ya know!"

Scar tilts his head. "What does that mean, Jones?" He asks innocently.

"The humans were the first," Jones says. "Specifically, Peecy! Alex and Steve- what were they?"

"Peecy!" Jamie declares with a confident grin. "Hybrids and them sort'a things- they're just glorified beasts."

"So you're followers of the Old Book," Scar mutters, glancing between them. It makes sense, unfortunately- in the old days, when the Void was nothing more than a story and only one god walked the lands, back when there were no Testifica or Illager or Hybrids, no Natural or Supernatural...

Back when a Mob was nothing more than a Mob.

"The only right book," Aaron says, nodding sagely. "Of course someone of your caliber would understand such things, sweetheart."

"Don't-" Scar starts before catching himself. He breathes out and smiles.

(No matter what, he remembers, a prince must never wear his thoughts on his face.)

"Right," he says, because he refuses to agree even with lies on his tongue. Not that these three notice it's neither truth nor agreement- just an acknowledgement. "I believe I've heard enough, then."

These people would hurt Grian and Tubbo if given the chance. They'll hurt Mumbo if they realize what he is.

They would try to hurt Scar, if they weren't so heavily under his spell.

Humans are terribly fragile.

"Heard enough?" Aaron repeats, watching him. Scar stands up and turns to them, pulling his staff out as he does.

"You're dangerous and unforgivable," he says simply, trying not to glance towards the child's backpack lying on the ground. He twirls his staff and the Fairy lights brighten, and whatever protest the other two might have called dies in their throats as their vision is overwhelmed by gold.

Scar taps the end if his staff onto the ground between him and Aaron, who at last seems to realize they've been tricked- but not fast enough, as when they try to grab their sword a vine breaks through the ground, wrapping around their wrist and yanking down.

Aaron yells as they're dragged to the ground. "Sorcerer!" they get out before the vine crawls across their skin and blooms flowers and leaves, pressing against their mouth and silencing them.

Scar smiles coldly and kneels in front of them. He pushes his hair back behind his ear when the bandit's angry wide eyes turn up to him.

Even in this moment, that hint of desire still remains. A remnant of Scar's earlier compulsion, he knows- but he doesn’t need it anymore.

He has the bandit Aaron right where he needs them, and Jones and Jamie are in no condition to help.

"Maybe you should make sure you're speaking to another Human before you start saying such things," Scar says, his eyes flashing as the vines and flowers continue to grow. The bandit chokes and struggles but Scar's vines only pull them tighter to the earth.

Scar stands up straight again. "I was gonna just lead you three on a wild goose chase," he says, seemingly-amiable as he smiles dangerously. "But I think my Birdie was right, after all."

The Fairy lights grow ever brighter. "Jamie. Jones. Aaron. Farewell," he says flatly, watching as the haze consumes them. He watches the vines grow, pressing through their skin- blood prickling up around the blooms and thorns-

(Too far.)

Scar steps back, away from the three bandits- one being steadily cocooned with vines and two staring blankly ahead of themselves, no thoughts at all behind their eyes. He looks at them and feels nothing.

No guilt. No regret.

It’s not quick. Not merciful. It’s suffering and he’s not even slightly sorry.

(Is he any better than them, then?)

Scar’s gaze moves to the pile of bags, scanning over the fabric; some of them have suspicious red stains, some are torn and ripped, but Scar’s eyes stop on that child’s backpack once again.

They would have killed Tubbo, he thinks, and he turns around and walks away- leaving the vines to continue growing, spreading out from the body they consume and snake around the ankles of the broken people, to snuff out the fire, and before too long it grows into a thick bramble, blocking the clearing from sight.

Scar doesn’t return to camp until hours later, when everyone else is asleep.

(If a human loses their humanity, are they still human after all?)

#Atherix Writes #Midnight Series #Tumblr Exclusive #CW death #CW manipulation #CW mind control #<- kinda. Just in case #CW mindbreak #<- just in case again #Anyway the only time Scar notices people's interest is when he can weaponize it lmao

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maybe-drawing · 1 year

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Boatem, where the mountains meet the sea

Inspired by @atherix Midnight Series

-- Click for better quality! --

#Freddy Draws #midnight series #hermicraft au #travel poster #no sketch for this one bc the sketch is horrid #its so bad yall #also hi atherix if you are reading this ahhhhhh your comments are too kind I am living for the reblogs you are so nice hello thank you????#the bottom part is supposed to be water idk how well that translates tbh #it was fun tho :D #I love this version of boatem #the way it is described puts such a vivid image in my #head like I have a version that i cannot seem to capture in art but this is pretty close #however since EVERYTHING in this series is written so ahhhhh GOOD its so descriptive #hello thats some skillful writing right there like holy s-

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stitchthesewords · 1 year

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Okay this is not a fully formed idea but I'm gonna put it here anyway -

So you know how empires s2 canonically is like, 1000 after s1. And you know how the hermits are currently on empires because of the rift. And you know how the rift is shown to move through space and time and not really have any rhyme or reason. And you know how all the hermits ARENT currently on empires [mostly because the ones who arent currently there also have other projects their doing {Vault Hunters, Ablockalypse, Create, Etho's singleplayer/inability to upload more than once a month, mumbo's vacation}]. AND you know how i just said I want to write polyhermits.

So what if, right. I'm imagining that the story starts out more minecrafty than fantasy, when it starts on the hermitcraft server [I don't think if I were to seriously write this, I would start it anywhere but when they all go back through the rift, but hear me out]. Think of like, those stories where its like uh, them on the server, and they're still clearly characters who live in this world, but also their lives are clearly playing the game minecraft. THEN when they go to empires, its becomes a little less minecrafty and a little more fantasy. There are villages with villagers in empires, whereas back home on hermitcraft they all just keep villagers in trading halls. There's some politics, a different economy, they're doing more fantasy stuff. And then they go to leave.

Remember how i pointed out empires season 2 is 1000 years after s1

So when the hermits on empires go back through the portal, they come out and its even more fantasy. Grian's basement is overgrown, overtaken. Grumbot isn't working anymore. He's rusted through, his screen is cracked. The content generator vats seemingly broke a long time ago. The whole thing looks like it's been worn down for centuries, cobwebs everywhere, moss everywhere, completely overtaken by the ground. And grian's base is fair no better. Bits of the buildings have collapsed, the one rock is completely overtaken by sculk, everything else is overgrown and the biggest rock is crumbling. Mumbo's vault looks like he built a little bit more onto it but it, too is overgrown.

Everyone's base is either like that or gone completely. Atlantis collapsed back into the sea. The waves have had time to smooth it over. Pearl's alien landscape has spread and it's competing with the natural order of things to grow over Gem and Impulse's bases. Everything is weathered and overgrown and looks like centuries have passed.

The villagers, at some point, escaped. The shopping district is no more, the Crastle is gone - and in their place is a city. It's no one's build style, it looks too...it's both simple but complicated. It's not a hermit's hand, that's for sure. And the place is packed full of citizens, of villagers.

The other thing is that the other hermits, the ones who didn't go through the rift - they're missing. No one can find them and they search everywhere. The Entity is missing too - or, well, not missing. It's planted itself right in the center of the new city, which is certainly not where Grian left it, and its changed. It has new bits hanging off it. It seems like the villagers are worshipping it.

The rift shut behind them again when they came through. It sealed them in this new world of hermitcraft, full of cities and town built in the ruins of their server and it plays by completely new rules - it's more fantasy, even moreso than Empires was, and the idea is that ther Hermits have to A. Get control of their server back if this even is a server anymore, B. Find the rest of their polycule, and C. adjust to life.

I'm picturing a like fantasy/post apocalypse style world and the hermits come back through and they are like. FAR more fantastical than they were when they left - Cleo's whole gorgon thing seems to be working concerningly well; she turned two people into statues on accident and they have to get her sunglasses. Scar's elf ears are back but this time they aren't like a party city costume. Ren and Doc are definitely even more hybrided than they were when they left, Cub has uh. Whatever cub has going on. Pearl and Gem and Impulse are are definitely leaning WAY MORE into their stories than they were [An miss LARPer finds she isn't quite LARPing anymore, these antlers don't come off]. And where did the other hermits go? Are they dead? Can the hermits even find them? Who knows.

#hermitshipping #poly hermits #I picture pearl and gem's place in the polycule isn't so much romantic as it is queer platonic.#since they don't like being shipped but also it feels weird to leave them out #everyone's besties #I had this idea in my discord w atherix and now it has gripped me #maybe I'll come back to this later #Connection Lost AU #Stitch's Writing

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em-mermaid · 1 year

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I felt like doodling a couple of the mutuals because why not <3 @atherix and @mochiwrites you two are wonderful and amazing and I love your writing very much

#if i had colored atherix would have blue wings #(the comments are /lh i adore the writing angst even when it hurts the heart)#also honorary shoutout to stitch because I Cannot Draw an end crystal and that is what you are in my brain #em doodles

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mochiwrites · 10 months

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You are the only person who consistently writes fics about scarian and mumscarian

🥺 I’m honored (is that the right reaction to this? jghfhfg) but also lemme point over to my wonderful friends really quick because they also write scarian/mumscarian and are quite active in our lil corner of the mumscarian fandom. also their works are top notch, 10/10 highly enjoyable.

for some scarian, there's @angeart has an amazing scarian fic that I love very very much, help me to breathe — her characterization is on point and her prose is so beautiful

@hitheeprithee also has an amazing double life fic that’s got a healthy dose of ranchers and a nice bonus of scarian that’ll make you want to scream and rattle them around very fondly because of their Wonderful communication, with two seeming bodies but one heart

as for our mumscarian writers <3 look no further than @atherix @stitchthesewords (who also has a mumscarian portal au with @made-nondescript) @sparksnevadas, @braxiatel and @em-mermaid !!! they're all fantastic mumscarian writers with amazing fics and excellent world building <333 I highly recommend their fics as well as their blogs because they all reblog some great mumscarian content :D

(note* the rate at which I update is Not human as well as a statistical error that should Not be counted in data)

#mochi speaks #the vault

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aceofthefandoms · 1 year

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...Maybe trying to convince Atherix to write mumscarvexian was a bad idea before starting to work on Scar's chapter

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totallynotagremlin · 1 year

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@atherix those chapters made me so close to just balling at 1am

Your really talented at portraying emotions in your writing and that something struggle with in my personal writing and art.

As youve noticed im obsessed with midnight and so now im here to make people cry by forcing them to remember the goodbye.

Its currently 10 pm now, im tired started this at like 6.

Bonus doodles

#Midnight series #Midnight art #Almost cried so many times reading midnight #Tubbo #Fanart #I dont have a normal chair and now my back hurts #I love tubbo and this design so much #Go read midnight guys #Its been my brainrot for more than a month now #Want to reread but have tonmany other fics to finish first

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sparksnevadas · 1 year

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Well. I just Read Embers of a Memory:D

Lemme preface this by saying, I don't really cry. At all. Not at writing, or media, or most things really. (I'm healthy like that). But this? Let me set a stage.

I go on tumblr! Panic because I forgot to read the new fic, and by extension vote in the Who Wrote This poll. I click the fic! It's midnight where I am. I read the fic. I finish it! I sit and Sob for a good five+ minutes while eating frozen chocolate sauce out of a bowl. Whoever wrote this? I'm stealing your shoes. and giving you everything you could ever want. or need. ever.

The flashbacks? The way you 'know' what'll happen based off the beginning?? The friggin DETAIL??? The sense of forbidding as the story progresses?????

To sum it up I'm an emotional wreak who can't stop crying, 100/10 experience this was incredible

When I say sobbing I mean it btw. Tears running down my face, shaking, the lot of it. Feeling things on tumblr tonight folks<3

-🍂

👀👀👀

we love you leafy/autumn anon!!! the author of the fic will respond after the reveal (if they havent already? 👀) but just know we appreciate and love you v much!

@atherix

@stitchthesewords

@braxiatel

#vault vday

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braxiatel · 1 year

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Writer’s Round-Up 2022

I made a post following this writer’s meme on New Year’s Eve last year, so I thought I would repeat it for comparison. It isn’t one you need to be tagged in to do, nor do you need to tag others if you do it.

Total Word Count:

I have published a total of 68,570 words! Compared to 2021’s 31,021 that’s 2.2x as much!

New Things This Year:

There’s three main things that come to mind.

I started writing Hermitcraft/Life series fic!

I made some new writing friends I think deserve a shoutout. First @stitchthesewords and @atherix, and more recently @sparksnevadas and @mochiwrites. I love their works and admire each of them for their craft and their style of writing, so making their acquaintance has been lovely.

Finally I have rediscovered the joy in writing. Last year is struggled so much with anxiety about writing and publishing fic, to the point that it was preventing me from writing. I think I am a lot more confident in my own ability now, and more importantly I’ve become more comfortable with my own shortcomings. All writers have room to improve, and the best way to do that is by writing. If it is too frustrating I stop, and if not I write it as well as I can and accept that my writing is best when I am enjoying the process.

Fic I spent the most time on:

Could I Be The Sky for sure. I spent about four months working on it, and I am so proud of how far I came through the process of writing it. As such I think the story gets stronger the further you read, and the third chapter + the epilogue are by far my favourites.

Favourite thing I wrote:

Hmm. See, the thing is, I like a lot of what I wrote.

Other than CIBTS, which means a lot to me for a lot of reasons, I think the answer has to be one of the Equinox AU fics. However, because they are all part of one story I struggle to pick one. Possibly the latest, In the Darkness You Reap, or maybe the one before that Harbour Me, Guide Me Home

I also really enjoyed writing "We Double as a Drama Troupe" not least for the excuse to use a little bit of the 0.5 theatre degree I earned before dropping out of university. I think it’s funny, and that I got the characters pretty spot on.

Favourite thing I read:

Oh there’s so many. Genuinely.

I read less Warcraft fanfiction now than I did last year, but I still just want to give a shoutout to that fandom for the amazingly high level of writing quality. I specifically want to list @khadgarfield’s Convergence. I love the language it uses, especially for descriptions. In fact I think of it often while writing myself.

Another favourite was @milo-hypno’s Aftershocks of Divinity. This fic… wow, this fic. I don’t think I will ever read another romance/slowburn fic and not compare it to this. The way Aftershocks of Divinity treats the subject of love, of recovery, is genuine and poetic enough that it brought my to tears even as I was reading it for the third time - and it is one of those where rereading it adds to the story.

And lastly, I would be remiss not to mention the Midnight series by @atherix. Oh Midnight. I don’t even know where to start listing all the things I love about it. Atherix, friend, you are the master of world building and foreshadowing. Midnight is fun to read because it rewards paying attention to details. Oh, and then there’s the characterisation, of course. It has that perfect mix of accurate to canon and sensible in the context of the AU it is set within. This one is a masterclass in slowburn as well, and were it a little less late I would dig out a screenshot of me messaging the group chat full of people who do not read Hermitcraft fic, letting them know that the OT3 from the fic series I keep talking about finally got together.

Writing goals for next year:

There’s projects I want to start working on and ones I want to keep working on. Equinox and Kingdom of Boatem AU are the main two, but they aren’t necessarily a goal.

I think most of all I just want to keep working towards writing being something that brings me joy and creative satisfaction. I’ve come so far in 2022, I want to keep up that good work.

Finally, something I couldn’t fit in anywhere else. I have to give a massive shoutout to @loombarrow for all of your help with writing through the year. Love you, friend!

#writing #there’s so many other writers and fics I wanted to mention #but this post is already long enough 😅#hermitshipping #long post

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atherix0 · 2 years

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YOU OMG I LOVE YOUR MUMSCARIAN SERIES ON A03 I READ LIKE EVERY SINGLE FIC. I SAW YOUR POSTS ON TUMBLR AND I WAS LIKE EODUSHEHOWNSHSJWKUSBEISBISH

IT CANT BE BUT IT IS IM SOOO GLAD I FOUND U ON HERE

BUT I WASNT EXPECTING IT?!?!?

Anyways just wanted to say that I love your fic series and wonder,

how you have written so much in about a week?

Like dont get we wrong I love the updates

But I have never seen an series get this many updates a d words sooo fast

I feel spoiled bc all the other fics im subscribed to take like weeks to update

Your fics are legit what I look forward too and how I get threw the week

HI YES HELLO I am Atherix, the anonymous author of the Midnight Series <3 WELCOME TO MY PAGE thank you for messaging, I'm happy to hear from you and I'm so glad you're enjoying Midnight Series! <3

Oh! Most of the Midnight Series and its plot were pre-written, all I'm doing now is writing more scenes and editing others to match the changes I've made, since I decided not to share it as a oneshot/twoshot- the freedom of making it a series instead of a single story (that would have felt disjointed with the time jumps and POV changes) <3 My very first document for the Midnight Series was created on August 3rd! So it's been about three weeks, I only started posting it about a week ago <3

Also, writing's my passion (lowkey obsession, I love sharing my worlds and ideas with people and I love seeing what other people are saying about them!) and I do it for fun and relaxation, any time I'm not at work I'm writing, and I write a LOT. I write at home, I write on the car ride to work (I carpool, I can't drive), I write while on break at work, I am always writing <3 It probably also helps that I don't start posting until I have at least half that part done- like, chapter three of Midnight Strolls is already ready (I just need to go through and edit/proofread and make sure the lore-y bits make sense outside my head) and I'm a quarter of the way through Chapter Four.

Thank you so very much!! Your message made me smile so much when I read it at work <3 I'm glad you're enjoying them!!

#Ask #Midnight Series #I literally have Midnight Strolls pulled up rn working on it hjfdsjh

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atherix · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Mumbo Jumbo/Grian/GoodTimesWithScar, GoodTimesWithScar/BDoubleO100, ZombieCleo/BDoubleO100/EthosLab, Mumbo Jumbo/Grian/GoodTimesWithScar/BDoubleO100/EthosLab/ZombieCleo, Goodtimeswithscar & Pearlescentmoon Characters: GoodTimesWithScar, Mumbo Jumbo, ZombieCleo, BdoubleO100, Pearlescentmoon, Grian, Ethoslab Additional Tags: GoodTimesWithScar-centric, Mentioned Past Character Death, ambiguous ending, Bittersweet Ending, Fantasy, God Grian, Polyhermits - Freeform, pearl is grian's sister Summary:

Scar had been searching for this temple for as long as he could remember. Maybe he'd been there before.

#personal #Atherix Writes #hermitshipping #mumscarian #clethubs #kinda uhhh mumscarianclethubs #hello hello <3 #Tis me <3

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atherix · 2 years

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Hi here have a very short one-shot, wordcount is ~350 so it's like barely a drabble for me. (Yes I know a drabble is a 100 word fic don't @ me-)

Subject of the drabble? .... shovel talk. That's it that's the fic-

The knock is simple and quick, and Grian and Mumbo share a quizzical glance. Mumbo goes to answer the door, and he opens it to find Tubbo standing on the porch.

"Tubbo!" He greets, surprised and confused. "What are you doing here?" Not that he minds, but the shop barely closed fifteen minutes ago and Tubbo hardly ever comes to the manor.

Grian peers out, wings fluffing. "Tubbo!" He greets with endless enthusiasm, smiling and stepping out. "What's going on?"

Tubbo smiles. "Hi guys! Just thought I'd visit and say hi, now that you're dating my dad."

"Uh, that's very nice of you," Mumbo says, suddenly suspicious. "But we have been dating him for a couple weeks now."

"Right, and now he's out of town, and we can talk."

"Talk?" Grian repeats, unease slipping into his voice.

Tubbo smiles sweetly and, before either Grian or Mumbo can stop him, he reaches up, grabs the lapels of their shirts and drags them down to his level.

He looks them dead in the eyes, his own wide and sharp and gleaming with something dangerous, and he says, "My dad is the most important person in the world to me, and if anything happens to him I will burn the world down. If you two do anything to hurt him, I'll make you wish the Purists got you instead. Understand?"

Grian barely manages to squeak out an affirmation, and Mumbo is too shocked to respond at all- the boy's face shows absolutely no signs of deception or humor, and Mumbo thinks he's serious.

Tubbo lets go and steps back, clapping his hands together. "Good!" He almost sings, smile innocent and blinding if not for his eyes. "Then I think we won't have any problems! I need to get back to finish closing out the shop now, bye!"

And then he was gone, leaving the Vampire and Avian standing in silent shock on the front porch.

They look at each other and silently agree-

Yeah, good thing that kid's on their side.

#Midnight AU #hermitshipping #mumscarian #when you consider how few friends Midnight!Scar has you'd think they'd be safe from shovel talks LMAO #but then you remember...... Scar's few friends care about him a LOT #mobile writing #mobile post #atherix writes

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atherix · 2 years

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Hi here have a Tumblr exclusive, it’s 1171 words and I wrote it at like 1:30 AM so please forgive that it’s not polished hmmm

Summary: Scar has a recurring dream that may or may not really be a dream.

(CW: This might come across as a little existential so if you have troubles with existential or dreams-are-more-than-dreams stuff be aware of that. Also references past death and the third chapter of Miseries, which I haven’t, uh... finished yet...)

...

Scar finds himself on a beach.

It isn’t an unfamiliar sight- the clouds above him, dark and swirling angrily with dangerous promise with an unnaturally calm sea lapping at the shore, the boat in the shallows rocking gently where it sits, caught against the sandy bottom. Far in the distance, across the sea and through the misty rain just beginning to fall, he can see blue sky and a burning sun.

It isn’t an unfamiliar feeling- the wind is cold and the water colder, soaking into the hem of his robe and the gown he wears underneath, ice sinking into his veins and freezing him from the inside out. His hair, damp from the misty wind, stings as it whips around his face, leaving behind water droplets frozen to his skin. His fingers are numb and his feet even more.

It isn’t an unfamiliar sound- the raging wind, billowing his hair and the long, baggy sleeves of his robe out towards that distant shore, sounds like whispers in his ears, no louder than the gentle pattering of raindrops on the windowsill of his bedroom. The loudest sound, the sound that drowns out everything else, is the steady, rhythmic whoosh of the tide falling over the sand.

He stands there, gazing through the storm raging above him- all-encompassing. He stares across the sea, to the light on the other side. He doesn’t turn around yet, knowing what he will find and not wanting to find it.

(It is dark, so dark, and he is not afraid of the dark until he comes to this place.)

Lightning flashes through the distant clouds, painting the world in hues of blue. For a moment everything is ice, as desolate as the world behind him- but it fades as quickly as it had appeared, an image that never did exist.

He wants to touch that distant light, to reach out and grasp it- hold it for himself, claim its warmth and comfort as the storm kicks up sand behind him and the tide reaches higher, ever higher. He wants to bask in its life as the life wilts around him.

The sea is empty. There is no life.

There is only him.

Walk, the light beckons, tempting with its warmth.

Walk, the wind whispers, pushing at his back.

Walk, the sea challenges, swirling all around him.

(It would be easy, he knows, to simply walk through this gentle and shallow sea- he can see the bottom. He can walk to the boat and take it with him, to ride if the sea becomes too deep. He can weather the storm and reach that light, and it will be easier than standing there- easier than standing there in the ever-fading light, letting the darkness settle around him like a blanket of snow.)

Like a gentle kiss to the forehead, a pair of arms that hold.

Stay, something murmurs, like a gentle hand on his back. Like comfort and love and guidance, like warmth settled in his chest. Like a moment that lasts forever.

It feels like safety.

Like love.

The clouds are dark as night, black and starless, and he can hardly see the forest against them. He does not need to see the forest, already knowing the trees that wilt and decay there, the life of their canopies having turned to ash years ago.

Turn around, something begs, and as he always does, Scar obeys. He tears his eyes from the promising warmth of the sun, so far out of reach, and turns his gaze onto the beach behind him.

The dunes are tall and steep, steeper than he could ever climb, and only a strip of beach remains between the sea and the dying dune grass. Where the water meets the shore there are headstones, tilted and sinking into the wet sand beneath; the water laps at their bases, teasing the sand away and threatening to show Scar what lies beneath.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he takes a step- then another.

Another.

Seconds yet an eternity later he stands at the edge of the water, eyes on the crumbling and faded stone. He drops down to his knees, the water breaking like ice beneath him, and reaches out with blue-tinged fingers- tracing the words that stood out against the once-brilliant marble, tracing the elegant and shimmering ink.

It runs into the water and taints the blackened-blue with bright, shining gold.

Gold like ink, gold like blood.

Gold like magic.

(Like Scar’s magic.)

Scar knows where he is.

He knows it as well as he knows himself.

He’s known this place forever, though he never remembers when the morning comes.

Every time he sees it he knows what waits for him in the waking world. He knows it will hurt.

Will it be too much this time?

(He never walks. He wonders what would happen if he would just cross the sea. Would he escape the cold? Would he never wake up, never have to fight nature again- would he never fight for a life that isn’t even rightfully his to have again? Will he finally stand on dry ground, surrounded by light?

He wonders what would happen if he stays standing here forever. Will the water rise? Will the water rise until he’s trapped in a watery grave, too late to choose the light? Will he be stuck here, waiting for the water to fill his lungs? Will he be trapped in darkness forever, a light that will never shine again?)

Hold on, the stone seems to say, burning hot against his too-cold fingers. Hold on, it says, and he feels warm.

Like the hands that carried him to bed, like the hands that never left when he needed them.

Stay, the stones say, and against all better judgment he hears them.

Go, the wind, the sea, the light, the dark, the forest say.

His hands are cold as ice and pain is blooming in his chest and the water is rising, eroding the sand beneath his knees, and his hair is tangled and matted from the wind and the mist.

The mist is turning to rain around him.

The clouds darken and the wind howls.

The sea crashes against the sand and stone.

Everything is ice, everything is sand, everything is marble, everything is-

Warmth and light, hands that hold him, a voice that soothes him back to sleep.

Stories and trinkets, gifts that mean I was always thinking of you.

A soft smile, a gentle I love you, a sacrifice.

He closes his eyes and leans over the stone, resting his forehead against its burning surface. The pain in his chest spreads, ice in his veins turning to fire, and he holds onto the marble tighter than he has held anything before.

Darkness.

The warmth burning him from the inside out wars against the freezing rain that now pours around him, the icy sea that pulls him down.

He holds on, knowing what the morning brings.

(He’s never sure how the morning will end.)

#Atherix Writes #Midnight Series #Hermitshipping #<- tagged because the AU is overall Mumscarian #me writing this instead of the main Midnight plotline? more likely than you think #eta- tumblr ate my formatting

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