#I WILL COMPLETE SKIZZ WEEK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eluminium · 2 months

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Skizz week day 2 lets GOO!!!!

I apologize for the lack of polish on these. I have seemingly caught a cold and am also in the middle of important schoolwork. But hey, it's better than nothing!

Anyway, this is kind of a sneak peek into an AU I've been working on. It doesn't have a name yet, but it sure exists! I hope I can post about it more when I have more things to work with!

Once again, thank you to @skizzlemanweek for todays prompt!

Prompt 2: Hybrid/AU

Impulse has lost his mind.

That's the only logical conclusion to this situation. To him sitting here on his dead best friend's bed while talking to said best friend who's apparently ascended to godhood? But he doesn't know what kind of God he is yet somehow? He also may have given Impulse some knowledge about the divine that Impulse is 75% sure he isn't supposed to know, even as his best god friend's semi-accidental oracle and/or priest. Probably. Maybe.

It's been a rough couple of hours, to say the least.

"Impulse! You're not listening to me!" A voice, Skizz's voice, echoes through his head. Impulses hands fly to his ears as he groans in pain. "Control your volume, dude! You're gonna blow out my ears!" He hisses.

"Oh...! Sorry...!" Skizz whisper-yells in response, although not without a mischievous giggle. Oh gods above, Impulse was gonna have to deal with SKIZZ. TALKING IN HIS BRAIN. UNINTERUPRABLY. FOR THE FORSEEABLE FUTURE. He shakes his head to try and get rid of that awful realization and quickly moves to change the subject before Skizz catches on.

"Alright, so. You became a God, but you don't know what of. So you appeared back here and found me. And you want me to help you figure out what you are the God of. Did I get that right?" He summarizes, looking at the faint blue outline of his best friend sitting on the same bed they spent years having pillow fights on in their youth-

Skizz sticks out his hand and does a so-and-so motion. "Well, yeah...But since I picked you as my oracle, as in my special important mortal representative guy, you're also gonna have to start my cult and get people to worship me!" He exclaims, clearly excited at the prospects.

"Wow, we really got a Mr. Humble Guy over here," Impulse deadpans.

"HEY! You know I'm not in it for the fame, man! Even though I am really handsome and my godly muscles are huge!" Skizz huffs in mock offense. Impulse rolls his eyes in response.

But instead of another sarcastic quip, the barely visible parts of Skizz's face soften into something dangerously genuine. "I mean it, dude. Think about it. Think about how cool this is gonna be. Think about how deadly we are as a duo now that we have divine power behind us. Think about how many people we can help!"

"But we don't even know what you're the God of!" Impulse snaps with a glare. "How are we supposed to get people to join in on this when we can't gurantee anything?! And don't say 'We'll make something up', you KNOW I'm a TERRIBLE liar! I can't lead a whole freaking cult by myself! I need yo-"

His throat closes up. He can't say that. Because that would mean Skizz couldn't help him, that his best friend was...not with him in some way. That he was alone in this, for now. No, no it's too raw. He breaks eye contact as his eyes snap towards a corner of the room. He draws in a shaky breath and blinks rapidly.

"Dipple Dop..." Skizz's tone is...sad. He reaches out towards Impulse before remembering that he can't really...touch him. Nor can he touch anything mortal, really. He needs belief for that, followers who believe in him.

A sigh leaves him as he retracts his hand. "I know this is a lot for you. To be honest, it's a lot for me too. You're scared, and I'm scared. And you're probably thinking something like: 'This is a total disaster, we're so screwed'-"

Huh, that was...exactly what Impulse was thinking. To the word. Weird.

"-but man, dude, my homieh buddeah-"

Impulse can't help but snort at that one. The man is a god now, and yet he's still just Skizz.

"We got all the time in the world to do this. We don't have to rush this. We'll make a plan. We'll do our research! The big fancy library we used to study at had a bunch of books about the gods and stuff, remember? Maybe we can find the step-by-step guide to finding your godly trait and a "How to Cult for Dummies"! Gee, wouldn't that be convinient!"

They're both giggling now. Why? They don't fully know. Probably the absurdity of sneaking into a royal library to read the most suspicious books of all time is getting to them. But, somehow, there's a glow of warmth in Impulse's chest. A feeling he's been missing ever since Skizz unwillingly left the mortal realm for the divine.

Hope.

As the giggling dies down, a timid smile settles on Impulse's face. Gods, how does Skizz do it? How does he make Impulse believe in some new goal that fast? Well, he supposes he can blame it on magical god powers now. Hell yeah.

He takes a deep breath in, jumps off the bed, and stands up. "Alright, I'm in. What's the worst that could happen?" He says with attempted confidence. Despite Skizz certainly detecting his lingering anxiety, he jumps up (or well, floats) up in the air beside him with a barely seeable hand pumped up in the air.

"Allllright!!! Imp and Skizz are reunited and back on the case! I love it!" He cheers.

Impulse wastes no time in heading to their shared kitchen and grabbing a snack for the road. The library isn't far (perks of living in the capital) but hey, emotional rollercoasters tend to leave ya a bit tired. A snack for the road never hurt anybody!

Skizz unexpectedly chuckles. "Except that one time you decided to shove jello in your backpack," he points out.

Impulse freezes.

"...Are there more things in my head than just your voice?" He questions while slowly turning around to face Skizz. Skizz, in response, raises an eyebrow.

"Of course! I know everything going on in there! That's what happens between a God and their oracle!" He says like it's common knowledge.

"So you know all my deep dark secrets now?"

"Well, kinda!"

"Does the "kinda" include how much I missed you?"

"Awww yeah!!! I know you love me soooo muuuchhh now!"

"God damn it- I hate you. You SUCK."

At Impulse's overly sulky tone, Skizz giggles like the sacred bastard he is. And once again, something cozy and soft glows and grows in Impulse's chest. It feels...good. Happy. Like it's right as it should be. And looking at the faded form of his best friend, he knows Skizz feels it growing too.

Maybe, even with all the responsibility and having Skizzleman but now with divine powers in his head 24/7, this won't be so bad.

Maybe this could become something great.

#skizzleman #impulsesv #skizz week 2 #skizz week #my writing #Unnamed God Skizz Oracle Impulse AU #hermitfic #THE COLD MIGHT FUCK ME UP BUT THE GRIND NEVER ENDS PEOPLE #I WILL COMPLETE SKIZZ WEEK

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ghoulishcavern · 3 months

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the wood collective plot line is literally fucking sooo comical. you have Big Salmon(corporation made entirely to irritate doc) and doc (Unspeakable Power of Destructive Machinery not yet available) who are now forced into a Get-Along-Shirt (they Will get their permits revoked if they don’t work together). doc tried his hardest to gain complete control over the wood industry. he’s Now forced to awkwardly do business with the 2 guys he blew up last week. The Most they can do is hurl insults at each other. it makes it even funnier because doc is 10x more powerful then either beef or skizz, but beef and skizz dominate their interactions with combined louder insanity. the wood collectives’ dynamic is like a sitcom set up i swear.

#I WAS LAUGHING MY ASS OFF #THEIR DYNAMIC IS SO FUCKING FUNNY #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 10 #hc s10 #hc s10 spoilers #hermitcraft s10 #skizzleman #vintagebeef #docm77 #skizz #hermitcraft skizzleman #hermitcraft beef #hermitcraft doc #hc

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chirp09 · 5 months

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Secret Life Session #7: Amount of hearts and Hearts gifted

Did people just not gift a lot this week because of the chaos or did I just miss a lot of people???

[ID: A graphic that is divided into four separate images. The first three images are captioned "Number of hearts" and display the head of each player's minecraft skin and their respective amount of hearts, which life they are on and whether they completed their task. One yellow are Grian with 30; Pearl with 25.5; Scott with 22.5; Etho with 19; Impulse with 17; Cleo with 12.5 and Scar with 10 hearts. On red are Joel with 35; Martyn with 34.5; Bdubs with 34; Tango with 30; Skizz with 27.5; Gem with 26.5 and Bigb with 24 hearts. Grian, Scott and Cleo completed their tasks. Everyone else failed. The fourth image is captioned "Hearts gifted" and shows the head of each player's skin followed by an arrow that points the that of another, indicating the gifting of hearts. Bigb, Skizz and Tango gifted to Impulse; Pearl gifted to Bdubs; Gem gifted to Martyn; Impulse gifted to Scar; Scott gifted to Joel and Joel and Cleo gifted to Scott. End ID]

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #traffic light smp #trafficblr #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #zombiecleo #ethoslab #bigbst4tz2 #grian #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #smallishbeans #bdouble0 #tangotek #skizzleman #geminitay

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that-one-zombie-crow · 5 months

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So, thinking about writing a Secret Life medieval fic. If I do write it, I have the roles for the factions and members. Plot will be explained at the end. Here they are:

Grian, Cleo, and Etho are three nobles who rule for the King, Ren, when he is away. Grian is an avian, Cleo is a reanimated corpse, and Etho is just a normal guy.

Tango, Skizz, and BigB are all medics and healers who can heal people by giving them their “hearts.” Each week, they heal someone who has been injured.

Joel, Pearl, Bdubs, and Mumbo are all servants in the palace. Pearl is Cleo’s lady in waiting, Bdubs is Etho’s valet, and Mumbo is Grian’s valet. Joel is just a servant.

Lizzie is the gardener/kitchen staff. She grows vegetables and fruits for meals when they can’t trade for the plants.

Gem, Impluse, and Scott are a traveling drama troupe. Gem sings/acts, Impulse plays the drums/acts, and Scott plays the lute and acts. They are stuck in the city/kingdom when it shuts down.

Jimmy and Martyn are law enforcement. Need is say more?

Scar is a noble diplomat who is trapped in the kingdom when it shuts down. He helps advise the council (Cleo, Etho, and Grian).

This is the plot:

A strange group of people called the Watchers have begun a siege on the Kingdom, trapping the residents inside the city. They want to do an experiment of sorts which is carried out by all of the characters mentioned above having tasks they must complete before the end of each week. There’s a catch. Monsters such as zombies and skeletons are set loose in the city. The “players” do not heal naturally. They only heal by A) completing the task that the Task Master gives them or B) Giving their “heart” to another player. The latter works by giving a bit of their lifespan (a day or week of their life) to another person.

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blackdiamond1038 · 6 months

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Secret Life Secrets

Session 4

Green- Successful

Red- Failed

Scott- [First task never opened] [Re-roll for harder task] Figure out someone’s secret and complete it. You can show them this task once you have done it and get them to confirm success.

Jimmy: Get at least 2 other people to participate in a minigame. One of them must take damage.

Gem: Nothing you say to another player can be true for the whole session.

Lizzie: Connect your base to everyone else’s base.

Grian: Bait a yellow into believing your task is “Singing everything you say.”

Joel: Say a lyric from All Star by Smash Mouth in 4 different conversations. It can not lyric and you must not be called out on it.

Mumbo: You are now terrified of 1 on 1 conversations. If you are in a conversation with just 1 person, you must flee in active terror.

Pearl: You are Impulse’s butler for the whole session. Do whatever they say. You have to let them in on this secret, but no one else.

Scar: Do the opposite of what people tell you to do.

Impulse: You can’t kill anything.

Bdubs: You declared yourself incorrectly successful last session. You must re-roll for harder task. [Re-roll for harder task] Kill the ender dragon.

Cleo: Leave your book in other peoples bases and get someone to read it, exposing this task. Them reading this will be a success, not a fail.

Etho: Ask someone what they think a good task would be. Their response is your task for this session. If they don’t give you an idea, you can ask someone else.

BigB: Compliment people whenever you see them take damage.

Tango: Be actively involved in 3 conversations with Mumbo. Mimic all his movements without being called out on it. You fail if someone points it out once.

Skizz: Get a yellow to accuse you of a task. Whatever they say it now your real task.

Martyn: “Stitch” on a green name by telling a yellow they are doing a task that they aren’t. You only succeed if the yellow guesses their task incorrectly.

I’m so scared for when we the majority of the server are reds because of the getting-a-new-task-after-completing-one mechanic. I’ll definitely be missing things when we get to that point.

This week was much easier than last week :’)

Lemme know if I missed something!

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trafficlife · 4 months

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Kiss Me Quick, Steal Every Secret I Keep

Etho sees his hard task as a test of skill more than anything else. He thinks it's time he shows Tango what he learned.

Word Count: 3041

A gift for @acolorboom

The reward is none.

Etho stared up at the darkening sky, a collection of whispers flooding his mind.

The risk is great.

He held his breath and closed his eyes. He could only hope that the task wouldn’t be completely impossible.

Let me open the door.

At least, for the most part, Etho was good at completing his tasks. How bad could this one be?

Accept your fate.

The scroll appeared in front of him, an ominous aura radiating from it. He walked away from the Secret Keeper—it’s been a few weeks, yet it still gave Etho chills—to read his secret privately.

A few words stood out almost immediately: Grian, wither, warden, battle, deep dark. And surprisingly, Etho actually felt excited for this task. Would it be chaotic? Absolutely, but that’s what these games were made for. He was also very happy that Grian was tasked with the summoning wither—the last time he tried to bring a warden up to the surface, he ended up dying.

Etho grinned behind his mask. An idea was already forming in his head: he wanted another person to come with him. But Etho didn’t need help. What he needed was an audience. And he knew exactly who would be interested in watching this.

****

“.... Hold up, you want me to do what?”

“I told you: I want you to come with me and see me bring the warden up to the surface.”

Tango blinked several times at Etho, trying to process the absurdity of this situation: Etho had walked onto the Heart Foundation island and almost immediately grabbed Tango’s sleeve and pulled him away from Skizz and BigB. Then, he tells Tango this plan, which pretty obviously seems to be a task. Tango slowly lowered his rose-colored glasses for extra flair and chuckled. “You- You realize this is a crazy idea, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you realize that this could go either very right or very wrong?”

“Yes.”

Tango pursed his lips, tail swaying behind him. “Well, lucky for you, I do like me some chaos! It would be very impressive if you also succeeded to lure the Warden up.”

“I hope I will. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

A surprised noise escaped Tango’s throat and he felt his face burn. The way Etho said that, with a voice sweeter than honey, coupled with a stare so intense but still so gentle, made Tango short-circuit. And Etho, the smug bastard that he was, knew about this. He walked over to Tango, leaning over his ear and whispering “I want to show you what I’ve learned from your game.”

If dying from being too flustered was a thing, Tango would’ve exploded then and there. However, he was already very close to doing so: his face, neck and ears exploded with heat and his pupils were blown wide. His tail dragged across the cherry blossoms, setting them on fire, but he was too flustered to notice.

Etho chuckled softly and, oh, he was doing this shit on purpose wasn’t he? He stomped on the flames, leaving black petals on the ground. Tango blinked to look at Etho again, trying to hold on to what was left of his resolve.

“Fine, then.” Tango purposefully ignored the way his voice wavered and he hoped Etho did too. “Show me what you got.”

****

Somehow, Etho knew exactly where to go when heading to the Deep Dark. Not once did he turn around or hit a dead end; he kept going, as if the directions were seared into his mind. He was so confident, it was both impressive and suspicious.

“How do you even know where to go?” Tango asked, as he set up a ladder for them to return to the surface later.

“I stumbled across the Deep Dark at one point while I was mining,” Etho said. “I figured I’d save the location, in case I felt like doing something… Well, crazy.”

Tango raised a brow. “Really… Sounds like a task to me.”

“Does it, now?” Etho turned to look at Tango again, the fabric of his mask twitching as he smiled underneath it. “Why don’t you guess what it is?” The question came out a soft, tender whisper that faintly echoed off the cobblestone walls.

Tango sucked in a breath.

Fuck.

That was the only way to summarize Tango’s racing mind: Fuck.

He was green so he couldn’t guess—both he and Etho were aware of that. But even if he wasn’t, would he want to guess? Absolutely not.

Etho came to Tango, wanting him to see Etho bring the Warden up. And Etho wanted to make Tango proud and not disappoint him. The thought of it made Tango giddy and his stomach swarmed with butterflies. However, in the very back of his mind, a condescending voice hissed at him: This is only a task. He doesn’t really mean what he says. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having doubts.

“Tango?” Etho’s voice brought Tango back to Earth. “Tango, you good? You’ve been staring at me for a while… Are you thinking about what you want to guess?”

Tango slowly shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No… No, I’m not going to guess,” he responded slowly. “You know that I can’t guess either way, I’m still green!”

“Fair, fair. But if you had to guess, what would you say?” Etho asked, as he went back to digging.

“I don’t know, you have to bring the Warden up to the surface and make sure it kills someone? You do have a hard task and it’s not like this”—Tango gestured randomly— “is a piece of cake.”

It was time to summon the Warden.

Etho sighed. “That’s not it. If only it were that simple—” Sculk coated Etho’s pickaxe and the stone that he had mined. He raised a brow, shaking the sculk from his pickaxe. “Well… Maybe this’ll be easier than we thought.” He made a larger hole for Tango and himself, and the two of them crawled into the Deep Dark.

As expected, it was pitch black, the only light coming from Tango’s tail. Sculk was everywhere, creating web-like patterns on the ground and crawling up their legs. There were some shriekers visible, along with sculk sensors that were barely obscured by its surroundings. They swayed slowly in the distance, similar to how kelp does underwater. Tango took a deep breath, heart pounding against his ribcage. He met Etho’s gaze and they nodded in sync.

But before Tango could leap down, Etho gently grabbed his sleeve. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Huh? Why?”

“We’ll need the water elevator.”

“Oh. Right…” Tango grimaced a bit at the thought. He couldn't take damage from water but it didn't make swimming any less unpleasant.

“We could also make stairs,” Etho suggested, “if that makes you more comfortable.”

“What, and risk getting stuck and dying to the warden? I don't want that happening to either of us. I'll…” Tango took a deep breath. “I'll take my chances with the water.”

“Are– are you sure?” Etho asked hesitantly. His concern was very touching, Tango has to admit. But the water was far less risky than the stairs.

“I'm positive.” Tango smiled. “But, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Now c'mon, let's go.” Etho leaped down from the ledge he made and crouched down. But Tango still sat there, Etho’s sincere words looking in his mind.

Why wouldn't I?

That was a good question, why wouldn't Etho worry about him? Tango couldn't even say he hated Etho, though they'd had their differences in previous games. Tango didn't know if he loved Etho either but, with how eager he is to spend time with Etho, it was becoming more and more obvious.

“Tango!” Etho whisper-shouted. “You coming?”

“Yeah- Yeah, hold on.” Tango leaped down, one of the sensors picking up on his movement. Thankfully, the shrieker didn’t set off prematurely. They lurked closer to a shrieker, like wolves stalking a sheep. Only they knew that the sheep could strike anytime. He met Etho’s gaze and nodded, communicating with his eyes. I’ll watch your back.

The ground cracked. A dark claw emerged from the fragmented sculk, followed by a low growl. Etho whipped his head towards Tango, handing him a water bucket and making sure none of it spilled. “Get up the ladder- pour down the water when you reach the top.”

Etho understood instantly and went closer to a sensor, making a swift movement.

The shrieker activated in sync with the sensor, the wail bouncing off the walls. Once it faded away, there was tranquility for a moment. They knew very well that the calm wasn’t permanent.

Tango nodded, holding the bucket with one hand and climbing the ladder with another. He shouldn’t have been worried about Etho; he was essentially an expert at this and was already on his way to winning Decked Out. But still, there was a lingering fear that Tango just couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the nature of this game. If Etho were to get hit—which Tango doubted would happen—he couldn’t recover easily. And if Etho died, it’d set their progress back. Tango knew Etho was strong. Strong, quick-witted, charming, sensible… For goodness’ sake, Tango, this was a life-or-death situation, it was not the time to fawn over Etho.

Tango could feel the ladder shake underneath him, the heavy footsteps of the warden sending shivers up his spine. He knew Etho could avoid the warden but he didn’t want to delay him. The moment he reached the top, Tango took his bucket and poured it down, creating an elevator for Etho to go up. Tango leaned over the edge, eyes wide with anticipation. “Please, come up all in one piece,” he murmured under his breath, despite his confidence in Etho’s skill.

Suddenly, there was an explosion.

It was mostly muffled but still loud enough to make Tango jump. And it sounded like it came from underground.

Tango physically felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. No, no, no, no, no, please don’t let Etho be dead. Etho was only green but the thought of him dying made Tango sick with dread. He pulled out his communicator, frantically looking through the names, and-

He was honestly torn between sighing in relief and continuing to hold his breath.

Good news: Etho didn’t die. Bad news: Lizzie did. And Tango felt incredibly bad, especially since she’d be alone the entire game.

In the water, he saw a figure slowly rise to the surface and heard a low growl from below. Etho’s head popped out of the water, brushing his soaked hair back (which wasn’t hot at all, thank you very much!) and swiftly climbed out. “Warden- warden’s on its way. Stay close to me, I don’t want to lose you.”

Tango nodded, tail flicking behind him. The warden crawled out of the water, outstretching his limbs as its tendrils clicked. Tango felt Etho grab onto his wrist and pull him away, paying attention to make sure the Warden was following them. “We’re bringing him to spawn,” Etho murmured against Tango’s ear, his breath lightly tickling his skin. Tango’s own breath hitched but he still managed to nod. “By the way… What was that explosion sound?”

“Lizzie. She died.”

Etho winced a bit, some remorse flickering in his eyes. “Oh, gosh… That really sucks. We probably should’ve gone to her party, huh?”

Tango nodded solemnly. “Yup. But hey, we can make it up to her after the game ends! That’s the least we could do right?”

Etho chuckled a bit. “Ah, Tango, you’re always so thoughtful.”

Tango beamed proudly. “I try to be!”

The warden was right on their heels, stumbling about and flailing its arms around. Somehow, Tango and Etho didn’t run into anybody for a long while. The moon was high in the star-speckled sky, shining down ominously as if it knew the chaos that would follow. Eventually, they saw Grian talking to Scar. Grian saw Tango, Etho and the warden waddling behind them, a mischievous smirk on his face. He was hugging something black to his chest and- wait, was that a wither skull?

Tango blinked several times, trying to make sure that he was seeing properly. What was that pesky bird planning? BigB, who had just approached Scar and Grian, seemed to notice what Tango and Etho were planning because his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. When Scar turned around and saw the warden, he was so startled he was pushing back on his wheelchair.

“Etho! Is this- is this central enough?” Grian asked, trying to stifle laughter from Scar’s reaction. He moved closer to the firepit, setting up soul-sand in a very suspicious position.

“Wh- Grian, what are you doing?!” Scar asked, having now noticed the wither skulls that Grian was holding. Scar scrambled to take the skulls from Grian before he placed them down but Grian was too feisty to let go. Tango watched the spectacle, eyes wide. He then turned to Etho, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Clearly, there was much more than he was letting on.

“Wait, Etho, did you know about—?”

Tango was interrupted by a loud, raspy hiss, as a wither emerged from the soul sand, growing in size and flying into the sky, obscuring the moon. There was absolute chaos. The warden had stopped following Etho and Tango and went to chase the next player it detected, wither skulls rained down from the sky, and everyone was screeching “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” at the instigators.

Grian had the largest shit-eating grin on his face and Etho definitely had a similar expression under his mask. Tango, on the other hand, was biting his lip to keep himself from mirroring that expression. He should have been more scared by the wither but he really wasn’t. Partially because he was so close to Etho and that mattered more than anything.

Mumbo and Jimmy seemed to be running towards the warden rather than away from it and they because of it. The sonic boom rang in Tango’s ears, in synchrony with the lighting that struck. First Jimmy, then Mumbo right after. The flash made Tango’s heart jump but Etho remained completely calm.

“Where’s the wither?” Tango asked, running alongside Etho.

“Guys- guys, please.” Scar, in his wheelchair and somehow outpacing the wither, rolled up next to Etho and Tango, scared shitless. “Please, do- do you want to give me a hand?” The skulls rained down behind the trio like a meteor shower, plummeting into the Earth and creating rather large holes. The grass and the flowers began to wilt, shriveling up and dying as the skull drained the life out of them. “Please- I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this—”

Before Etho or Tango could respond, the two of them fell into a pit that Scar narrowly avoided. Scar went back to being chased by the wither, begging for others to come out and help him, by leading the wither directly into their bases. Honestly, the fact that Scar was able to avoid the wither for this long was incredibly impressive.

Tango groaned a bit, bringing his hand up to his hair, accidentally elbowing Etho’s chin in the process. “Oh, sorry, I-” He immediately shut up when he noticed the position they were in. Etho was directly on top of Tango, nearly laying on his chest. Etho’s eyes were piercing through Tango’s, as if he wanted to read his soul. And Tango couldn’t help but wonder, would Etho know how Tango feels about him?

Tango didn’t really want to get out of this position. And, since Etho didn’t move, neither did he. Their bodies were flush against each other, and Etho’s face was so close, his white hair was brushing against Tango’s skin. The mask slipped off of Etho’s face and-- if he lowered himself any more, their lips would be touching—

Oh, void, the realization that he was so close to kissing Etho made Tango’s face bloom bright red.

“Tango.” Etho’s voice was a hushed whisper and, to anyone else, it would’ve been completely muffled by the wither’s explosions. But Tango kept all of his focus fixated on the man who was laying on top of him, ignoring the wither and the world that was falling apart around them. And it was all because Etho was here, his world was right here. “I didn’t let you down, I hope.”

“Never,” Tango gasped instantly. “You could never let me down.”

Etho chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.”And then he leaned in, closer and closer and closer until it was finally enough. His lips were warm against Tango’s, and it made him melt almost instantly. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for this forever. Tango’s hand snaked up into Etho’s hair and oh goodness, it was so soft.

“Etho- Etho, the wither killed the warden!”

“Etho, stop making out with Tango, and come press the damn button!”

Grian was shouting at them from… somewhere. But they were too busy to care.

Tango, dizzy from suffocation, reluctantly pushed Etho off of him. “Gah… I had a feeling that part of this was part of a task.”

“Well… Not the part where I asked you to come with me,” Etho murmured. “I did that voluntarily. I was serious when I said I wanted to impress you.”

Tango couldn't stop the giggles climbing up his throat, a large smile on his face. “You did, Etho, you really did!”

“Are you talking about my warden wrangling, or the kissing?”

“... Yes.” Tango smirked. “I'm not going to elaborate. Go press that button!”

Etho nodded, lightly kissing Tango on the cheek, putting his mask on and leaving with Grian to the Secret Keeper. Tango lay there in the withered grass, hands on his cheeks and grinning. Nothing could ruin the happiness and satisfaction he felt at this moment.

… Not even the fact that Tango forgot to complete his own task.

He'd make it up next session. But now he just wanted to make out with Etho for the rest of this session.

#꒰☆彡꒱— karma speaks #꒰☆彡꒱— karma writes #꒰➳꒱— writings #secret life #trafficblr #trafficsmp #life series smp #secret life fanfic #tangtho #tangotek #ethoslab #hermitshipping #trafficshipping

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zhukzucraft · 8 days

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well hello there! i'm zhuk and this is a side blog for my Minecraft Youtube (primarily Hermitcraft and Life SMP) fanart and other shenanigans

readmore for useful info and links

Hermitcraft fanart tag LINK

i am currently involved in the creation of 2 different Life SMP fan sessions:

Wild Life

written by @findingschmomo, illustrated by zhukzubast

The premise: 3rd life but the gimmick has all players split into cats and dogs, leading to new looks, new alliances and a whole lot of shenanigans

MAIN TAG; AO3 Chapters: | 1 | 2 |

Quadruple Life

(aka Double Life Squared) written and drawn by zhukzubast with the help of the community

The premise: Double Life (with a twist) but Skizz, Gem, Lizzie and Mumbo join in, as well as 2 completely new players. Art style and reader input driven narrative inspired by Homestuck

MAIN TAG LINK (specific links TBD)

CURRENT EVENTS: poll on who to follow next - LINK

AO3 TBD

discord server TBD

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

other stuff of note:

polls i did for funsies LINK

if you want to make a pfp, phone lock screen, moodboard or any other such thing from my art - you have my permission

if you want to make works inspired by my ideas - you have my permission and my blessing (and also i would love to see)

this blog will contain some hermitshipping/trafficshipping content, but i try not take it further than the creators themselves do

for the sake of easier blog navigation i move answered asks, WIPs and administrative posts to an archive blog (LINK) after a few weeks

FAQ and commission info TBD

#nota bene

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fountainpenguin · 28 days

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"I'm not the kind of girl to get messed up with you- Hello! ... You're all right, but I'm here, darling, to enjoy the party..." (x)

---

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

Chapter 31 - “Flame (Etho, Skizz, Pearl)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Scar files a microaggression complaint with the HALO team. Pearl helps Scott settle in while he recovers from glitchy code. They have a spat that's not about a sticker.

Meanwhile, SnifferMyFeet and Etho separate their souls… and start an honest talk about Sniff's identity as Sniff, not Joel. It was needed. It's for the best.

(First 900 words under the cut)

---

Etho - Fox

Status: Resting

Self-taught programmer, full-time hero

💙 💙 💙

He gets it now.

It's like ice in your water. It's like marshmallows in your cocoa. It's like wind beneath your wings. The final week before he's due back in Between (reluctantly, but definitely due), Etho flops on his bed and sprawls his arms to either side. Is he giddy? He doesn't mean to be, but this feels…

… Oh, it's a game-changer. Which is exactly what he texts Cleo after scooping up his admin panel. They won't see it if they've left their private server, and since Session 2 of Dog's Life could be starting any day now, there's no telling how long that may take.

Etho: hey so Etho: remember after limlife 4 or 5 when we talked about burnout?

Grocery shopping. For a family dinner- he and Cleo both made one (like a peace offering) in a way that wasn't really flirty married life roleplay, but more like… regular, everyday person roleplay. Did all their shopping together so they wouldn't cook the same thing. Call it 'date night' if you want; he walked her home and there might've been a little 'dramatic logout' roleplay in there. We don't… We don't need to go into detail about it.

To some people that's romantic and to some it's completely gross. Not really sure why… It's a natural process, isn't it? Soul-eaters can't help being what they are, and you may as well snap at endermen hybrids for struggling with eye contact or shame unthreaded players if they expose their glitches instead of keeping them covered up. This world's too big and life too long for arguing. Do you really want to make enemies and be rude to people who are going to carry the echo of your words for the rest of their lives?

Lend a helping hand. Extend a little kindness. Be polite. Respond to the hurt. Try not to avoid responsibility when others are counting on your strength. Sit with the injured, even when the night is cold. They're simple goals, but so easily forgotten these days.

Etho: I think you said if I felt stuck then I should break my routine for a while

Nothing happens for several minutes. Etho rotates words without meaning through his head, then types out something else.

Etho: you were right. I get now why you go on adventures with Martyn. Why you let him and no one else log you out all the time. Thanks for the advice. Let me know next time you need a favor. Rating this cycle 10 of 10 and I owe you big xD

He takes a long, guilt-free nap in his cushioned bed. Catching up on block updates and videos really drains a guy (especially this close to the end of the Hermitcraft season, not to mention Vault Hunters and a Life series on top of it), but he spent all morning prepping the bed and it's already providing every agonizing tick of its worth. Two hours later, he's stirred awake by a buzz on the admin panel.

ZombieCleo: yay! So glad that worked for you <3 I want to hear all about it. Maybe in a couple weekends you can watch MCC with me and the kids + Martyn? If we catch a minute alone, I can recommend more stuff you might be into ;)

The kids refers to Bdubs and Scar, who skated through Limited Life like energetic teenagers spreading their wings. It's goofy, it's endearing, and Cleo's got her roleplay voice on because she knows it makes him snort. His tail gives a twitch as he tries to keep a smirk from creeping out behind his mask.

Martyn, huh? he muses, but doesn't say that. Cleo circles between lovers, friends, and exes like a pollinating bee.

Etho: whoaaaa Etho: inviting a fox? that's dangerous! ZombieCleo: nose out of your tail, fur boy Etho: dibs on Martyn, I see ZombieCleo: If you're serious about returning the favor, Martyn says Rhetoric's down here and this might be our best chance at smash and grabbing from your mum's museum Etho: Hm… ZombieCleo: I mean, you did leave my eggshell when you rescued Grian and that other soul

Yeah- it looked distressed. Now Sniff's down here. He can actually talk now when he couldn't before. Honestly, not the worst decision he could've made.

If anyone's going to try getting into the Fox Dragon's museum, a fox has the best chance of doing so. It's kept separate from the nesting cave where souls respawn, but even the deadliest traps won't keep foxes out since they'll just respawn. Unless they're traps that can't be dodged even with careful planning, or some sort of system that short-circuits code. The phantom roost is nearby, right? Frankly, phantoms are excellent trackers, they can fly, and they're probably the fastest of all non-swimming hybrids, so a phantom alone provides great security as-is.

Etho: I'll think about it. Not tonight, though. Full moon fox face isn't for me. Also if there are raiders there then that's probably the worst time to show up ZombieCleo: Fair ZombieCleo: I can think of something else, but if you ever get the chance, I want it back Etho: duly noted ✌️ ZombieCleo: btw say hi to Scar and Bdubs when you see them. They've been cracking nonstop jokes since you disappeared. One can only imagine they're attempting humor to bury immense throes of pain Etho: D:

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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weirdeggii · 2 months

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Skizzleman Week day 2!

Prompt: Hybrid/AU (by @skizzlemanweek)

AU of my own creation: Cave Dwellers AU - continued from yesterday

With every step he took towards the blue-spattered crevice, his anticipation grew.

The rumbling noise disappeared after a few minutes, but the weird fog in his vision remained.

The blue substance was definitely coming from something within the crevice, and it appeared to be growing out in veins from wherever the source was.

Skizz crouched down just in front of one of the tendrils, poking it with the tip of his sword. The substance scraped away from where his sword drew its path.

“Huh.” He breathed.

He cautiously stood back up again, being careful not to jostle his shoulder too much. He tested his sore foot and found that it didn’t hurt as badly as it did before.

The blue substance appeared to have a texture similar to moss, or maybe mold. It didn’t look toxic or anything, but there was definitely an odd aura about it.

There was an odd aura about this entire caving trip. Skizz had never been this lost before, nor had he ever been this unlucky when it came to finding resources - and that’s saying something.

He can’t find the exit to this cave, so he might as well try to figure out what’s going on. The blue substance must have something to do with it, since he’s never been this unlucky, and he’s never seen the substance before.

Skizz ducked his head and walked further into the crevice. He found that it was basically a thin tunnel, which was completely covered in the blue substance. His iron boots squished slightly into the ground with every step.

As he went deeper, he began to see little white flecks mixed in with the blue. Eventually, he came across a patch of the substance with tentacles growing from it.

“Huh,” Skizz breathed, and then jumped as the tendrils suddenly waved as he spoke.

“Whoa,” he said again, and the tendrils waved and lit up a slight blue.

“This is cool!” He cheered, and the tendrils lit up, waved, and made a little noise.

Suddenly, something deeper in the cavern shrieked, and the same rumbling noise from earlier started up again.

Skizz froze as the fog thickened, and the rumbling seemed like it was coming from all around him.

The fog was so thick that he couldn’t see anything at all - not even his hand in front of his face. His breathing picked up, and he pressed his back against the wall.

The wall squished under his weight, and he threw himself away with a barely-repressed shriek, brushing away bits of the blue substance that clung to his clothes.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what was going on - Skizz was just gonna stand here and be silent until the chaos went away.

He wrapped his arms around himself, cringing in pain as he moved his injured arm, and waited.

Eventually the rumbling stopped, and Skizz let his arms fall away with a sigh.

“What are you doing?!”

Skizz jumped about a thousand feet in the air at the hushed voice. “What the— who’s there?” He called.

“Shhhh!” The voice shushed. “Get outta there man! You’re gonna summon the warden!”

“What the heck is a warden?” Skizz asked, keeping his voice down this time. He turned his head around, looking for the source of the voice. The fog was still thicker than ever, so his attempts were unsuccessful.

“Obviously you don’t know, you were literally talking to a sculk sensor…” the voice mumbled, a hint of snark in their tone.

“Quit judging me! Where are you even talking to me from?”

“I’m literally right above you, you can’t see me?”

“No! It’s pitch black in here!” Skizz looked up anyway, trying to see if he could find the person behind the disembodied voice.

“I can see just fine!”

“Then why don’t you come to me?” Skizz snarked. He was getting tired of this game - if this guy wanted something from Skizz, he should at least show himself.

“Fine.” Skizz heard the whoosh of air being displaced, and the soft squish of something landing on the blue substance. “Now are you gonna answer my question?”

Skizz turned to look at where he heard the person land, but could only make out a vague outline. The person had a bulkier build, and was shorter than himself, and Skizz could clearly make out the wings of a bat hybrid. Skizz blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision to no avail. “What question?”

The person sighed, and Skizz could practically taste the eye-roll. “Why you’re yelling in a warden’s den.”

“I was only yelling because I got hurt! And the tentacle-thingy was glowing when I’d talk.”

“The ‘tentacle thingy’ is called a sculk sensor, and setting them off can trigger a shrieker, which summons the warden.” The person explained. “Which is why we have to be quiet.”

Skizz blinked. “Was that the rumbling sound then? The warden?”

“No, the warden wasn’t summoned yet. The rumbling serves as a sort of warning. The first three rumbling sounds are warnings, and the fourth one summons the warden.”

This guy sure is saying some words, and Skizz can only understand some of them. “So, wait, what is the warden?”

Silence for a moment, where Skizz thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, the mystery person speaks. “You really aren’t from down here are you?”

“No, of course not!” Skizz exclaims, throwing his arms out. “I’ve been running around this cave system like an idiot for hours! I got chased by spiders, shot in the arm, and jump-scared by some random guy-!” Skizz pointed at the figure, who twitched backward at the action. “-who started being rude for no reason and still won’t answer my question. So I’ll ask again. What. Is. The warden?!”

The word echoed in the confined space of the cavern, amplified by the close-knit walls. Skizz realized what he had done a second too late, as the tendrils on the sculk sensor waved and made a sound, and a shrieker screamed further down the cavern.

“Shit.” He and the person said at once.

Then the rumbling began.

Worse than before, the whole cavern began to shake. The fragile sculk vines shook and fell away from the walls with the intensity of the tremors, and what little he could see was quickly swallowed up by the thickest fog he’s ever seen. He couldn’t even make out the slightest shape of the bat hybrid’s body anymore.

On the other end of the cavern, something began to emerge from the ground. The sculk warped and bulged and squished around, as something unearthed itself.

Skizz could hear his heartbeat in his ears - or, maybe it wasn’t his heartbeat, but instead a horrific sound coming from something else in this cave.

He felt someone grab the wrist of his left arm and pull, and he hissed in pain as his injury flared at the treatment.

“We need to go. Now.” The voice hissed.

Skizz could tell this wasn’t the time to argue, and frankly, he was inclined to listen to whatever this guy would tell him right now. He’s injured, scared, and frankly, tired of being in this cave. He nodded, not knowing if it was safe to talk.

“The warden is blind, so it can only track us through sound and smell. I can get us out of here, but you’re gonna have to trust me. I know- I know that’s a big ask of someone you just met, but-“

Skizz slid his hand over the bat hybrids’, cutting off his rambling and giving a firm nod. This guy is the expert here, and Skizz knows when to give the authority to someone else.

The warden fully emerged from the ground - Skizz could hear it sniffing and groaning from here.

“Okay,” the hybrid breathed entwining their fingers, “hold on.”

Skizz squeezed the hybrid's hand and felt his other arm go around his waist, pulling Skizz to his side. Then, with a beat of the hybrid’s wings, they leaped up onto a ledge in the cavern, several meters from the floor.

The warden groaned as it wandered towards where they just were, sniffing the spot where Skizz had leaned against the wall - some of his blood must’ve got on the sculk from his sleeve.

The warden had tendrils on its head that were similar to those of the sculk sensor, and Skizz imagined they served the same purpose. The wardens rib cage was exposed, and now Skizz could clearly see the source of the heartbeat - the warden had a giant heart beating away in that chest.

The hybrid pulled on Skizz’s hand again, and Skizz turned to look.

The fog was less thick up here, and he could just barely make out the other person’s eyes. They were entirely black, no visible pupil or iris or anything. Just like, well, a bat’s eyes.

“C’mon,” The hybrid said. “We’re not in the clear yet.”

Skizz nodded, continuing to follow their lead. They pulled him by the hand along a narrow path carved into the ceiling. As they walked, Skizz let the fingers of his other hand drag against the wall, and he could clearly feel chips and scratches that could only have been made by a pickaxe.

The sounds of the warden got quieter the further away they went, and eventually the pathway turned away from the crevice and into the wall, presumably deeper into the general cave area.

Eventually, the blindness caused by the warden completely faded, and Skizz could get a good look at his companion.

The bat hybrid was wearing dark clothing with accents of a lighter color - it was still too dark to tell what. His wings were a dark brown, and his hair was a similar shade. Skizz looked down to their joined hands and spotted nicely manicured nails - or maybe just dull claws.

The warden was so far removed from them that it wasn’t even a threat anymore, but Skizz still didn’t want to let go of his hand.

“My name is Impulse, by the way.” The hybrid said, glancing back at Skizz as they kept walking, offering a kind smile.

Skizz returned it with a sheepish one of his own. “I’m Skizz. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier, I was scared and didn’t know what was happening.”

“Don’t sweat it man, I understand. Just… maybe next time don’t scream at me while stood next to a sculk sensor.”

Skizz laughed, swinging their hands between them (and immediately regretting it when his shoulder stung from the motion). “No promises.”

#the next one will be a different au #skizzleman #hermitcraft #impulsesv #skizz week 1 #my writing #fanfiction #I hope to come back to this au soon but the next part is giving me some trouble

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secretkittywolf · 4 months

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High Life

Chapter 2

Martyn made a mad dash towards the penthouse on his left. As soon as he entered the building, he was greeted to a club. "Oh wow. Grian definately went all out on this" He walked around the ground floor, taking in everything. "Okay. So we own a penthouse, have one life, a backstory and a motive to kill another player. This is a lot" he ponders out loud. He makes his way into the club area and its lit up with chandelier's and some small colourful lights to add to the ambience and atmosphere. "Damn. All this for me? Aren't I a lucky guy?" Martyn smirks, looking around some more. He makes his way to the penthouse and his jaw hit the floor when he opened the doors. "Holy shit! Wh- What is this?!" He was in awe at the size of the room. Martyn walks aimlessly around, taking in everything. He ends up hitting his back on the vanity table where he spies a book. "My backstory, I assume?"

"You and Impulse are childhood friends. The two of you grew up together and have formed such an amazing friendship. But after a bad fight a week ago, you're bitter and your trust for Impulse has diminished Your motive? Kill your once best friend"

"Oh damn. That's- That's intense. So... We had a fight and now I must kill him? Why can't we make up and I kill someone else?" Martyn says frowning. He soon begins to feel a sharp pain in his head as whispers began to flood it. "Must kill..... Do not disobey...... Do not fail us...... Like last time" "Alright, alright!" I hear ya! Jeez" The whispers fade and the pain disappears. Martyn sighs. Because he lost in Secret Life, the Watchers decided to take out their anger on him, especially for teaming up with the canary, Jimmy. He stared at the book with anger. Killing Impulse because they had a fight?! Isn't that extreme? And what was the fight about? Martyn shakes his head. He'll worry about them at a later date. He heads to the wardrobe and finds a classy suit as well as a dress. "Nice suit. Definitely wanna feel fancy" After he changes, he heads back down and heard some voices. "Oh, hey Martyn!" Calls Scott, waving at him from across the room. "What are you guys doing here?" "It's a club, ain't it? Can't we have fun?" Asks Scar. "True. But it is a club in my building so" he walks over to the bar, hops over the counter and smirks. "Can I serve you some drinks?" Cleo walks up to the bar. "So what drinks so you have, Martyn?" He looks behind him. "No alcohol... sadly. Fuck you, Grian" he mutters the last part under his breath.

"I can either give you: water, milk or mix you a potion and you can all pretend it's an alcoholic drink" "The third one, please" "Coming right up!" He finds that Grian has given him fancy cocktail glasses. Martyn groans but begins to mix up a healing option and pours it into the glass. "Here you go" he slides the pink drink across the counter as others came over to order. "Seriously, Grian? You give me fancy glasses, an exquisite bar but no alcohol?! Really?" Grian chuckles. "Do you really want to complete your motive whilst flat out drunk?" "Would make it interesting" The avian laughs and orders a regeneration drink. As Martyn begins to mix it up, Skizz walk in. Skizz waves to Scott and heads over to him. Martyn watches from behind the bar and due to his good hearing, he eavesdrops in on their conversation. "Hey Scott" "Skizz..." "Hey. What's wrong handsome?" He sees Skizz place a hand on Scott's arm. "Nothing. Everything's fine" snaps Scott. Skizz removes his hand from the other. "You know whatever it is, you can talk to me. I'm here for you" "I don't fancy talking right now so could you leave me be. Please?" Skizz doesn't say anything and walks away.

//////////////////////

Skizz/Scott drama is starting!

Grian's being a lil shit with the no alcohol rule and can Martyn kill Impulse or will he have to be punished again by The Watchers?

#trafficblr #grian #scott smajor #3rd life #mr goodtimes #you are not immune to the goodtimes #last life #double life #double life smp #limited life #secret life smp #secret life #martyn inthelittlewood #High Life

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riacte · 21 days

Note

grian just said 'this is us now, this is us' on stream and I know its completely unrelated but its one of The renchanting lines

anyway happy treebark week i guess

(1:25:00 ish into skizz's pico park vod once its on twitch)

Istg things shift in the air every time tbw comes around. We love to see it

#ask box #answered

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eluminium · 2 months

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SKIZZ WEEK 5!!! THE GRIND CONTINIUES!!!

How the fuck did this one GET SO LONG????? AND HOW DID I FINISH IT IN TIME??? IT'S A MIRACLE!!!! I probably won't be able to finish day 6 on time due to LIFE STUFF but TRUST ME I AM GOING TO GET THE DAYS I MISSED DONE.

As always: @skizzlemanweek is the goat for giving us all these prompts!

Prompt 5: Stars/Hearts

A serene desert night. Something surprisingly rare, but more common in solo worlds. The hostile mobs keep away while the passive and neutral have long since fallen asleep. Out in the endless dunes, nothing moves. A true quiet.

That quiet swiftly comes to an end when a man with tussled black and grey hair crawls out of his tent. A simple t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts cover his scarred body, very unlike his usual outfit of choice. In his grip is a ridiculously large bath towel and a thicker blanket as well as a lantern. His feet are bare of any dress, and he relishes the feeling of sand brushing against them. What he likes less is the sudden chill graciously given to him by the desert’s nightly winds. He quickly ties the blanket around him like a cape.

“Brrrr! I’m freezing my butt off! Kevin! Come out here!” He calls into the night. The previously still as a coffin tent bursts into activity as a “Woof!” erupts out of it. A medium-sized reddish-brown dog leaps out and bounces over to the man’s side. His tail wags like a metronome on steroids.

The man's hearty laugh soars over the desert dunes as he leans down to give his dog some TLC. “Who’s my big puppy? Who’s my favorite in the whole wide world? Who’s my Kevin Bubbles Malone Jimmy Madeye Dugan? Yes, you are! You are!” He coos as Kevin rolls around and coats his fur in sand. When the man stands back up, Kevin copies him. The dog takes a few steps before-

“No, boy, don’t!” He borderline begs, but it’s too late. Sand goes flying everywhere as Kevin rids himself of the coarse and itchy feeling.

“Augh! Bubbles! Bad dog! Now I got sand in my jibblets!” He pouts while trying to brush said sand off. Kevin tilts his head but otherwise continues to pant at him.

He sighs with frustration and fondness as he walks away from the tent. "I can't be mad at you for long, it's not fair" He grumbles as Kevin walks attentively by his side, sniffing the air in search of any stray mobs who would dare to show their faces. But the desert is still quiet. Only the steps of the man and his dog as well as the lonely winds echo through the landscape. They keep walking with a clear goal in mind, each step intentional.

Until the man spots his destination in the distance. A giant vaguely circular glass donut-looking thing. The moonlight reflects beautifully off its slightly wonky surface, casting the area around it in an ethereal glow. With a cheer the man breaks out into a run, his loyal Kevin right behind him barking up a storm.

"Here it is, Kevin! Our overnight home!" He explains excitedly while throwing the giant towel over his shoulder so he can summon a silk touch pickaxe from his inventory. With it, he breaks just a few blocks of glass and steps inside. Kevin jumps in after with no hesitation. With everyone accounted for, the hole disappears as he refiles it. He wastes no time getting to work by spreading the massive towel over the sand. It's big enough to take up most of the ground inside the glass donut. After that, he places down a few other supplies before he unties his blanket cape.

"Sleeping under the desert stars on a clear night has been a bucket list item for a while, dude. I can't believe I'm finally doing this!" He says as he lays down on the towel. However, a cringe crosses his face when he feels the packed sand against his back. "Ouch! I thought it would be softer!" He exclaims. His solution is to wiggle his body around and create an imprint of his body into the sand. It's better...but not by much. It's good enough for now though, and he calls over Kevin who happily snuggles up to him.

With no more distractions, the man turns his eyes to the sky. And what a sight it is. A massive tapestry of light and color upon an ink-black background greets him. Hundreds if not thousands of stars scattered across the sky in an undescribable dance. The moon, ever the overachiever, shines bright and full. The spectacle of the scene before him fills every bit of his body with childlike wonder. He almost feels out of breath, and he's just lying there!

"Woah..." He mumbles.

With a clumsy hand, he points toward six stars located near each other. "See that Kevin? That's the Pickaxe." His hand then moves towards seven new stars. "And that's the Universal Bell." For a last time, he points to a cluster. "And that's the Head of the Great Dragon."

Suddenly, a distant feeling of fear hits him. His hand falls back down to Earth, and a frown decorates his face. "We really are miniscule, huh Kevin? We're tiny, insignificant little ants in the face of the Universe. Isn't that crazy?" Maybe he's the crazy one for talking to his dog alone in the desert. Kevin, for his part, continues to snore.

"Nothing we do matters on that scale. We can create a million solo worlds, yet it won't even make a blip on the radar!" He continues, the slight fear building strength in his chest.

"It's so vast. Borderline infinite. And I'm just one player out of millions...Maybe one of them is looking up right now, thinking the same thing. Mathematically that's gotta be the case. A million's a big number, and there's probably even more than that..." This ramble has to stop if he wants to keep that existential crisis at bay. Because at this rate he's on the minecart heading to the stress station!

He sighs and refocuses his eyes on the sky. It glows back at him just as before.

"Maybe we gotta focus less on what we can influence in the big picture and more on what we can influence in the small picture." He says, trying to inject some optimism into his tone. "Maybe the only impact we really need to make is the impact on those around us. Friends, family, other loved ones..."

He looks down at his beloved canine companion sleeping next to him. A smile creeps up on his face. Even just looking at Kevin's peaceful mug makes a happiness bubble in him. He giggles to himself. "I guess you're doing great on that front, Bubbles," He pets Kevin's head carefully to not wake him up. Afterward, he looks back up in the sky.

"I could talk to my brothers more. Maybe invite Dop, Top, and Bop to do some silly challenges together. Or I could hit up Logic and get him to show me his newest duds. Maybe Pearlie Pop can help me build something for the fun!" Yeah! Yeah, that would be delightful! That would be great!

...Except that all of them are parts of servers he has no access to. And are also very busy. Well, that takes the wind out of his sails.

"Man, this sucks!" He pouts, trying to drown the genuine pang of loneliness with overdramatic sulking. But there's no one around to find it funny. His palm falls to his face.

"Dang it, Skizz!" Now he's just back in the sad. He shakes his head, this is not a productive mindset to have while alone in the desert under the infinite sky!

"You know what? They'll invite me to Hermitcraft next season. Then I'll have all the time in the world to hang out with my buddies!" He claims dramatically to bullshit his way out of this.

Then he stops.

Impulse is being cagey lately...Gem accidentally referred to him as a Hermit...Tango seems uncharacteristically excited about season 10...

Could it be?

A part of his mind screeches on instinct. Of course not! This hasn't been the first time he thought he was gonna get invited! And him? Hermitcraft? Yeah, sure. Like that would ever happen!

But, perhaps just this once, the other parts of his mind beat back those thoughts, and he gets to indulge in the possibility. Him on Hermicraft. With his friends. His brothers. And so many new people to get to know. A happy smile settles on his face at the thought. Wouldn't that be something? To have a proper home server again? Be able to look at the sky with those he loves the most.

With that scenario in his mind, the starry sky above him doesn't look nearly as beautifully intimidating. Because if he's with his friends, he's in the right place. His place.

Eager to quit while he's ahead and to prevent those doubting thoughts from making a comeback, he summons the final pieces of his glass donut stargazing sleep place thing. Some glass, and a pillow. The glass is quickly used to cover the ceiling so no spiders or sandstorms could ruin his nap. The pillow lands where the indent of his head is under the sand. Somehow, Kevin doesn't stir, still sleeping away peacefully. The man, now very tired, lays back down on his towel and cozied up in the thick blanket. He gives a quick kiss to his dog's head, mumbles a "good night" and passes out on the spot.

But before he sinks into the sweet comfy unconsciousness, a vague memory, almost a dream, comes to him. It's a fragment of something players can never fully remember, but they hold it dear all the same.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

#skizzleman #skizz week 5 #skizz week #my writing #hermitfic #dose of skizz #I WILL COMPLETE THIS #I SWEAR #I SHALL DO SKIZZ WEEK #AND BE HAPPY ABOUT IT

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honeylashofficial · 2 months

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Casting Shadows | an Imp & Skizz snippet

[undisclosed] AU

Skizz Week Prompt #3: Ghost / Omen (@skizzlemanweek)

There's more to any town than originally meets the eye. Just like how there's more to any given person you meet on the street. But what if they're your best friend? Surely then you would have them all figured out, right? Surely then, you'd... understand their reasons for their actions. ...right..?

Hurt / no comfort (it's not that deep, I promise), itty bitty angst

–+– 2,811 words –+–

Skizz was a realist. Simple as that. Headstrong? Possibly. But that wasn’t the point in all this.

“Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize,” he sang half to himself, following the footsteps of the person in front of him. It was dark in the back alleys of the city, and dirty too. He shied away from the stained walls and questionable piles that littered the ground in front of him. The moon wasn’t any help from here, among such tall buildings and beneath thick clouds. Part of him really missed the Whimbles right about now.

“Grim grinning gho- you’re gonna be singing that all night, aren’t you?” Impulse’s voice asked from up ahead.

“Probably.”

“Just keep it quiet, okay? It’s harder to hear them when there’s background noise.”

Skizz pursed his lips, refraining from rolling his eyes. Right. Because the city was so much quieter than he was.

They slid into a tight walkway between buildings, finally approaching the main street with its overbearing shop faces and low-hanging signs. A muffled thunk came from Impulse’s backpack as the assorted materials inside of it jostled about. He held up a closed fist, signaling for them to halt before leaning forward and peaking around the corner. Skizz rocked his weight from his heels to his toes and back again, equally bored as he was anxious.

To be fair, Impulse did have merit to his argument. The city really was a quiet place under the glint of moonlight. Hardly anything stirred, and the streets were all but abandoned. Things happened, and as a citizen, it was in your best interest to simply close the curtains and wait until morning before venturing out again. But Impulse, in a stupid mid-teenage mindset of defiance and recklessness, considered it the perfect time to level up his talents. And maybe that made one year-younger Skizz even stupider, because he followed him.

“Where are we going? Sandy’s or Northflower?”

Impulse hummed deep in his throat, concentrating for a while. After assessing the view, he said, “I was thinking we could try a… different place tonight.”

Skizz would be an idiot not to notice that strange final note in Impulse’s voice, or the way he purposefully avoided looking back at him. A scowl made its way onto his face as his whisper turned sharp. “You still want to go to Enchantix, don’t you? We could get arrested for that-“

“No, not Enchantix,” Impulse pulled himself back into the alley, shooting a quick glare in Skizz’s direction. “I’m not gonna go wandering onto private property.”

Silent relief stabilized Skizz’s pulse. He relaxed a fraction, shaking his head tiredly. “Alright. Where do you wanna go then?”

“Maples? The abandoned office building?”

“Fine. Whatever.”

The two of them darted into the haze of street lights, quickly jogging across the road. There was no need to look both ways, as they were completely and utterly alone out here. Even the rats and raccoons were seldom seen, with beady eyes watching from the darkest of corners.

Skizz began doing the math in his head. If they wanted to make it all the way out to Maples and back again without arousing suspicion, Impulse would only have about an hour or so to look around. Which was fine with him, considering he had wanted to actually have a campfire out in the woods like they had told their parents they would. But Impulse insisted time and time again that the city was much more active and easier to practice among. So here they were, making the same old excuse, running around like dogs without horses.

“Did you look up whether it’s private or not?” Skizz asked a while later, squinting at the warning signs plastered along the side of the building.

Silence greeted him —an obvious no— before Impulse readjusted the straps on his shoulders and pushed the door open. “After you?” He offered. Skizz rolled his eyes, flicking on his flashlight.

It was strangely cold inside the office building. Colder than either of them had initially expected. But this exited Impulse greatly, putting a bright grin on his face. They were silent for a few minutes as their eyes adjusted to the dim light. A lot of the building space was surprisingly open, with random support pillars standing in the middle of barren rooms. Nothing remained in the interior, including carpet and most of the outlet covers. Eventually they drifted apart, with Skizz slowly climbing to the second story via the emergency stairwell. He had always had trouble believing in this whole paranormal world that Impulse described. It just wasn’t in him to be spooked by things he couldn’t prove were there. And with the cold beginning to seep into his skin, he was missing that fire pit more and more. But seeing how his friend had lit up at this place, he knew they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. He made a quiet sweep of the second story, not bothering with going any higher.

“Did you look up anything else about this place?” He asked Impulse upon returning to ground level and discovering his buddy sat in the middle of an empty room.

“A little,” Impulse replied. His backpack was in front of him, and from it, he had pulled a notepad, pen, small plastic balls, and a pack of glow sticks, which he arranged in a semi circle around him. “What color do you want?”

Skizz listened distractedly to the inconsistent drip of a drain pipe. He shrugged, uncaring. Impulse chose for him, tossing the thin stick in his direction. “Blue it is.”

“Why is it always blue?” Skizz asked, plopping himself down against a pillar. Gravel shifted loudly under his sneakers. “What about red, or green?”

“Because there’s no more red, and green didn’t come with this pack,” Impulse explained, simultaneously flipping open his notepad to a blank page. After scribbling the date, he added, “And you said you didn’t care.”

“I mean, technically I didn’t say anything,” Skizz shrugged, pulling his legs into a criss-cross position and turning off his flashlight. “How are you feeling?”

“Energized,” Impulse rolled a few of the plastic balls away from him, tracking with his flashlight beam to see where they landed. Once they had settled, he then cracked his glow stick, shook it, and laid it back down. He placed the notepad in his lap, pen in-hand. “They’re eager.”

Skizz nodded quietly, even though he didn’t really understand what Impulse meant by that. “Sure, sure. How long do you want to yourself? We’re gonna need to get going by 1 at the absolute latest.”

Impulse waved him off with the flourish of a hand. “Whenever you call it is fine. Let’s start with twenty though and then regroup.”

“Yessir. Setting twenty minutes now,” Skizz brought his digital watch to his face, squinting at the small screen. “Ready.”

“See you on the other side,’ Impulse announced before flicking off his own flashlight, plunging the both of them into near pitch black. There was a few seconds of shuffling around, and then the entire world went still.

Ghosts and phantoms and spirits were real. As real as the people around this city. As real as the ground beneath both of their feet and the sun above their heads. At least, according to Impulse anyway.

The paranormal plane, more thoughtfully referred to as “the other side”, existed in a universe tied extremely closely to their everyday one. The other side had never been seen before, but Impulse’s rare empowerment allowed him to somehow sense it.

From what Skizz could comprehend, every once in a while, these two universes would collide, creating friction that bounced between each world. It would send objects flying off of tables or short circuit light fixtures. Occasionally for short periods of time, people would be able to see shadows of figures in the corners of their eyes. It all began to make total sense once you had the right pieces of the puzzle to fit together.

But perhaps Skizz had spent a bit too much time around Impulse for a few too many years, because everything started to sound a little bit like garble after so long. He had grown too accustomed to be scared or put-off by any of this investigation stuff. Granted, Impulse typically described the other side in a beautiful and unique way. It didn’t make the paranormal sound creepy at all. It was simply another place where different things presided, and Skizz liked that sentiment.

Even with the years of sneaking off into the city on school nights and crawling back into bed a few minutes past curfew though, he definitely wouldn’t call himself a true believer. He lived in this world, and he preferred to make observations based on what he could determine. Not the invisible.

A distant cop siren pulled his attention away from watching his friend. Its high pitched wail echoed among the hollow grid lines of the city. Skizz turned to the busted out windows, where their only natural light could be found seeping through cracks in wooden boards. He liked this part of the county, with its high glass walls and bustling crowded walkways. There were so many people to greet on a given corner, and sure, most of them weren’t interested in returning his greeting, but the ones who did always had the most peculiar of stories.

He listened to the siren grow louder before it dwindled again, changing directions. Soon, he returned to seeking out the dripping pipe within the building, counting with a silent tap against his leg in order to divulge a pattern. His mind grew fuzzy, swimming in a fog of jumbled up ideas. He had nothing to do right now, so he let himself wander among all the ramblings and memories he could manage to conjure in the moment. His head drifted from one topic to the next like he was following a web of red strings. All the while, his hands rose into a familiar position, beginning to drum quietly against his leg, glow stick in-hand. Quickly, its blue color sprang to life.

Impulse’s pen glided across the page of his notebook, unclear on what he was doing from so far away. He could be writing down observations, or drawing with the aid of a ghost’s guiding hand. He had even caught snippets of conversations at times. Whatever it was, there seemed to be a lot of it tonight. He kept writing for several minutes on end, eyes closed, letting his steady fingers do all the work for him. Skizz had seen Impulse practice this in the margins of his math books, closing his eyes and trusting himself to keep all the words and spaces orderly. He’d tried it himself, in fact, before discovering that it was much harder than previously expected. Impulse had been using this technique for several years now, learning to keep his eyes shut in order to hold his concentration on the connection formed between himself and the other side. Skizz could only shrug, writing it off as mostly a party trick.

Slowly, the minutes ticked on. One of the plastic balls presumably moved, rolling over dirt and deteriorated material. A moment later, Impulse raised his pen, pointing out a direction in the dark. He paused, most likely confirming with whoever he was communicating to, before writing down another note. This one was considerably shorter.

Skizz may not believe in a lot of this stuff, but he knew Impulse did. So he wasn’t going to stop him, and he certainly wasn’t going to disturb him. Impulse’s abilities were awesome, whether Skizz believed what they spelled out or not, and the two of them trusted each other, which meant playing any sort of trick or prank was completely off the table. He had learned that lesson years ago, when they were stupider still.

His watch lit up, signaling the end of their predetermined time. Skizz peered over at Impulse, whose hand had gone back to writing diligently. One line, two lines, three lines. He would wait until he was done. And really, he shouldn’t be surprised by all the chatter tonight. This was a new place, filled with new patrons for Impulse to meet and get to know. It was a place where he got to feel unique, as opposed to a city where everyone else seemed to be cooler than him. Skizz would never admit it aloud, but he also felt that way sometimes. And Impulse had never told Skizz that he felt uncool compared to everyone else. Skizz just… knew.

He continued using his glow stick to drum, picking up speed as an invisible orchestra crescendoed in his ears. He was momentarily distracted, and completely caught off guard when Impulse piped up quietly.

“Skizz..?”

Somehow, the glow stick managed to burst in his grasp, releasing bioluminescent chemicals in a wide sweeping arc. He gasped, knowing that some of it had definitely splattered on his face. “Aw shoot.”

Impulse turned to look at him before a poorly controlled snort left his nose. “I leave for twenty minutes-“ he began.

“Shut up!” Skizz made a face, cheeks hot with embarrassment as he tried and failed to wipe the glowing patches out of his clothing. “This was my favorite shirt, dang it.”

“It is all over you,” Impulse chuckled, uncrossing his legs and standing to his feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s washable. It’ll be okay.”

“Whatever,” Skizz grumbled, picking up the broken end of the glow stick. In his frustration, he began drawing out a crude symbol, before thinking better of it and scribbling out the lines, just in case the chemicals did stain.

Impulse turned on his flashlight again, notebook clutched to his breast, and went about collecting the plastic balls from the open floor. He kicked them back in the direction of his things, shoulders slumped uncharacteristically. Skizz watched him out of the corner of his eye with curiosity before asking, “You wanna do the ‘yes and no’ game?”

His friend shook his head. “No, I… um…” He overshot his next kick, evidently distracted, rolling the toy towards Skizz who picked it up off the floor.

“I think I’m ready to go home now.”

The statement nearly made Skizz drop the toy. His eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, gaze darting back to him. “What?”

“Just… you know, I don’t want us to get in trouble or anything.”

Skizz had to do an entire double take. Was Impulse even hearing himself properly? Since when did he care about following the rules to a tee? Unless there was a drum pad in front of him, it was a commodity. “What’s goin on buddy? Everything okay?”

Impulse slid his backpack back onto his shoulders, gaze averted once more. “Yeah, yeah. How about that fire pit now?”

“Seriously, dude. What’s wrong?” The alarm bells were ringing in Skizz’s ears. He hurried to catch up as Impulse walked to the hallway. His glow stick was abandoned, strewn.

The steps quickened.

“Everything’s fine. I just need to go home.”

“Impulse. Impulse,” Skizz called his name again, trying to get him to slow down. “What- what about home? Is something wrong?”

“It’s not wrong. I just- I need to ask a question.”

“What do you mean?” Skizz raised his voice, blinking furiously as the two of them burst out into the moonlight. They didn’t bother to keep their presence a secret anymore as Impulse marched into the street, beelining for the neighborhood. It was as if he’d been tranced, unable to be distracted from anything beside his task at hand. As a last ditch effort, and because nerves were rapidly beating their wings against his chest, Skizz stopped dead in his tracks.

Impulse kept walking.

“Dipple…”

His steps faded into silence, the distance between them having grown too far.

Skizz stood there, confused, heart racing with anxiety and confusion. He was spooked. Not because of some strange noise from another room or an ominous voice whispering into his ear –he had experienced all of that countless times around Impulse– but because of the shadows that fell over his body. Because of the shadows flickering across Impulse’s gaze, like a haunting that could only be seen by him.

At least haunt’s weren’t real. At least those were times when that misplaced energy affected someone, causing momentary startles. It got into your head, making you unsure for just a blink.

And it would be all too easy to write those shadows off as just that. As nothing more than misplaced energy. But Skizz knew Impulse too well. Those shadows –that energy– was not what he had seen.

The past might only be composed of silhouettes, casting shadows along dark and dreary walls. But at one time or another, someone had filled those silhouettes. And only Impulse knew what all of that looked like.

–+– The End –+–

#mcyt #skizzweek #skizzweek 1 #skizzleman #skizzfic #imp and skizz #impulsesv #impulse sv #hurt/no comfort #angst #hermit fanfic #hermitcraft au

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harley-the-pancake · 2 months

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If y’all get lucky, you may get one of my many skizz ideas that’s in my bag or maybe a continuation to one of my many wips for Skizz week

If I get lucky & complete all my work by Thursday, I’m getting myself some steams games too

#skizzleman

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ivarismaybecrazy · 7 months

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Session 1: Welcome to Secret Life!

SPOILERS BELOW.

Alrighty! Life Series season 5! Here’s the gist: Everyone has three lives and 30 hearts in each life. However, you don’t regenerate hearts naturally. You must eat a Golden Apple or complete your secret task. This task is one assigned to you at the beginning of each session and you must complete it while keeping it a secret, then head to the Secret Cave to submit the assignment. (It’s important to note the secret cave has a very odd symbol on it… lore..?)

Rewards from the secret cave vary. If you have 20 hearts or less, you get 10 hearts as your reward. If gaining 10 hearts puts you over 30, you get valuable rewards instead. Failing to complete your task before the end of the session gets you nothing, unless you’ve chosen to have a harder task. Completing this tier 2 task gets you 20 hearts, but failing it costs 10. High risk, High Reward.

Moving on to the actual events! As typical of the first session, a lot of starter stuff. There’s a bit of heart gifting (you can gift one heart with no cost per session), some task completion, and a lot of creeper explosions. As well as Martyn being the first in the Nether. Not too much to note for this first session.

Teams so far seem to be:

Gem and the Scotts (Gem, Impulse, and Smajor)

Cleo and Etho (for now)

Tango, Skizz, and Bdubs, with Jimmy being a possible recruit

Grian, BigB, Lizzie, Mumbo, Pearl, Joel and Martyn are solo (for now)

Predictions for the season!

Lore. Just, Lore. The watcher symbol on the secret cave heavily implies that the watchers are the ones assigning the tasks. So these could turn from simple tasks like “do a trust fall” to “kill your teammate”

I’ve heard Grian plans to team with no one this season because he’s experienced too many betrayals and heartbreaks… i wonder how well that’s going to go

A big fight. Like, lore motivated fight. I’ll explain this in a seperate post, so stay tuned for that in a bit!

Alright, I think that wraps up the session! Not too much insight on who could win or whatever, but I do hope that Jimmy breaks his curse. Please. Maybe have Lizzie die first. Idk. Anyways, I am so fucking happy to be back (in terms of life series and tumblr, as I was a bit demotivated in terms of original posts and it turned into not checking tumblr as often) and I can’t wait for the chaos of this season. SEE YALL NEXT WEEK!!

#traffic life series #traffic smp #secret life smp #delulu ivaris

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jaymber · 7 months

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Second Conflict

Timeline 20151 - Protagonist : V Temarii

[ First | Previous | Next ]

V managed to pull Nancy out of the Maelstrom nest without much issue. If Johnny was delighted to see her again, V kept quiet. He felt still resentful at the way he had been treated before going to Kerry's mansion. A weird bitter knot was building in his stomach. He had been Johnny's only friend and confident for weeks now, suffering or enjoying the engram's company. Suddenly, old friends were showing up left and right, putting Johnny in a better mood than V ever could. It pissed him off, even more so when Johnny seemed completely clueless to the way he felt.

"Shame Henry blew it," the dead rockerboy kept rambling, "But man, this is preem. Samurai: back for one night, and one night only! Can't remember the last time I felt that excited. Eh, think I do, actually. 2007. One hell of a gig, and an even better afterparty, if you know what I mean." "Johnny, c'mon." "Man, you really are getting jealous," he teased, reappearing before his host, "You're lucky I find it cute. You're like a desperate little groupie. I missed this. Hey, V, wanna feel the real Samurai experience? I have the perfect idea on how to unwind until Nance-"

"I'm good, Johnny," V grumbled as he pushed him away, "Lil' groupie's done for the day."

V laid down in bed in silence after lighting a cigarette. It softened his mood a little, but Johnny didn't take kindly to being ignored.

"Fuck, what got your panties in a twist this time?" he mocked, "Gave me the green light on this idea, want to back off now? Or is this about Kerry? Mad I'm having fun with someone that isn't you, or disappointed I won't give him the Rogue treatment? Huh? Ignoring me, now? Fuck, V, we really back to that?" He simply wouldn't shut up, and V snapped.

"You're a fucking asshole, know that?" he yelled, "Still only fucking care about yourself. Rogue lead you on, and that sucks, but why you gotta make it my fault?" "V, what-" "You acted like I wasn't ever there! I tried talking to you, but you just ignored me! Closest friend? My ass! Only had Kerry on your mind!" "That has nothing to do with Rogue. Sreamsheets said-"

"What fucking screamsheets?" "Right, you weren't there." "Mean when you betrayed my trust?! So why did you wait to get into Rogue's panties first, if checking on your best friend was so important?! That's just another fucking excuse! You just wanted a distraction, and apparently, I wasn't enough." His voice suddenly broke as he swallowed back treacherous tears. He tried to hide his next words, but their minds was one, and they echoed in the tensed silence of the room. I'm nothing compared to them, am I? You're gonna leave me behind now that they're back in your life. "We both know that's not something I can do, V," Johnny said, and, feeling the wave of worry from his host, added, "And I wouldn't. Even if I could."

"Bullshit." "V, it's just old habits. Went to Rogue when I fucked up with Alt, went to Kerry when I fucked up with Rogue. Not used to putting you into that equation just yet. Was in my own head - forgot you were here." "But, I called you. Reach out for you." "Gonna have to listen harder, I guess. And you need to speak louder," he added, "Still need some getting used to - our situation. Usually, I’d just fuck off. Find a quiet place. Cenzon in one hand, Black Lace in the other. Get skizzed out of my mind, and find some easy groupie to bring home.” “Lucky for you: easy groupie's right here.” “You? With your constant whining and ball-busting? You make me work hard to get to you, V.” “And I should apologize for that?” he retorted, still feeling hurt.

“Nah. Thing is: I can’t do that anymore. Can’t wallow on my own. That, I’m still getting used to.” “Do you miss it? That method of yours?” “Why? Up to give me the reins once more?” he hoped. “Nah, but you got the company already. I can provide the buzz. Interested?” he proposed, clinging to the idea he could cheer Johnny up despite his doubts. He needed to feel useful. “See, V?" Johnny said, too distracted by his promise to worry about the knot in their stomach, "Thinking like a real rockerboy.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #male!v #oc: vaea temarii #silverv

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