Joey and Scott are both banned from every single hot topic across every single empire for stealing too much merch and buying out the stores too many times respectively
Joey and Scott are both banned from every single hot topic across every single empire for stealing too much merch and buying out the stores too many times respectively
Fact #1: Scott’s boots originally belonged to Joel Logical Assumption: Scott and Joel have the same shoe size Fact #2: Scott is taller than Joel Logical Assumption: Either Joel has very large feet for his height or Scott has very small feet for his height. Either way their feet are disproportional to their heights
Here me out:
Scott has a dead sister named Lauren
If Scott and Jimmy ever had their relationship and wanted to move in together, Scott 100% has to move to the Cod Empire. Why?
1) the image of Scott having to leave gracious, majestic Rivendell behind to live in a swamp is hilarious to me
2) if Jimmy were to move to Rivendell, he’d not only leave his empire, but he’d also be leaving the ocean behind. And that means they’d have to live in uncertainty and fear of Jimmy forgetting everything again because we know what leaving the ocean does to the seablings.
So, Scott must move in with Jimmy in the Cod Empire if they ever want to live together
This got kind of unnecessarily lengthy and rambly and possibly nonsensical, so I put it under a read more. And, no, I didn’t know where I was going with this and decided to post it before I forgot about it and left it lying in my drafts till the end of time.
In regards to my previous post, since then I've watched the POVs of Scar, Grian, Scott, Jimmy, Ren and Cleo, and I'm currently very slowly working through Etho and BigB's (though I do plan to watch everyone’s eventually).
It's been a lot of fun, to be honest, and it's been interesting seeing the different perspectives of events, both stuff I was already aware of and stuff I didn't know.
Not just in the information side of things (although that's nice too) but also regards to how different POVs of the same event can feel very different, like, due to factors such as the CC's editing style (e.g. whether or not they include specific scenes, the sound effects they choose to add or not add, etc.) or the way in which through the process of this POV, you've been almost seeing it through their eyes so you often find yourself sympathizing or just in general understanding their side more than in the previous POV/s you've watched of this particular event.
Somewhat related to this point, but I introduced my brother to Third Life first with Jimmy, then with Ren, and, aside his rather memorable comment of describing Jimmy as having “excellent hair”, his view on the events of the series are fairly solidly on the side of Dogwarts, in the sense of the Desert Duo having wronged them and them getting their own back and what not, albeit with some disappointed from what happened with Pizza. While, from my viewing, I feel like, though I still sympathise with Dogwarts and enjoy their whole thing a lot, I support Scar and Grian just that little bit more.
Although that’s to a limited extent, partly since I tend to think of myself as a rather indecisive person, prone to (perhaps clumsily) attempting to weigh in both sides of things, unable to make a definite choice between options ninety percent of the time. I’m not sure where this is going, but I thought it was a tiny bit interesting, at least to me, how my brother knows for a fact whose side he’s on while I’m still like “eh, I’m not sure, both sides have points”.
But that’s part of the fun, I think; seeing how people interpret things and what they choose to create as a result.
Also, on a less serious (?) and waffly note, I had no clue who basically everyone on the server was before seeing this series in Joel's recently released videos so that's been super cool too. Learning about new CCs, I mean.
*pointedly ignores the fact that, in hindsight, I already knew Jimmy and Scott from X-Life but just didn't pay adequate attention to this fact until I was watching Jimmy's X-Life series and recognised scenes from Lizzie's, and that I also was vaguely aware of Martyn from half-remembered Yogscast episodes when I was younger*
(Another thing, if I’ve screwed up with the tags, my apologies)
This might get long and I'm on mobile and don't know how to make a cut. Sorry in advance.
Ok so, starting off this is a post-exile design, and I might make an exile design later on. Because he couldn't feel the cold despite having "hands covered in ice", Scott didn't notice (or didn't think anything of) the developing frostbite. In my designs, elves generally don't like shoes, so when he ran he didn't take any with him. He didn't bring like. Anything with him, to be fair, so no gloves or super warm clothes past general Rivendell-climate clothing. The frostbite ended up taking the toes on his right foot, his fingers, a bit of his mouth and nose, and about 3/4 of his ears. Frostbite and a combination of an infected injury from falling on one of the ice spikes resulted in the amputation of his left leg from a little below the knee down. He wears a mask in the shape of a deer skull for pride reasons. When he's ready to show his face again, he will, but he's taking some time.
His horns are only about eighteen inches tall, which would be considered worryingly small if Scott wasn't already below average for his species. The average height for mountain elves (or Starborne) is closer to 11 feet tall, while Scott is nine foot eight.
Scott has wings that he is able to conceal via magic! I have an explanation of Starborne wings in this post here, along with more headcanons!
" Not a good time to lose control / Right as your marionettes cut their strings and run away
You're out of time, make your move / Live or die while the fuse is lit and there's no turning back " — Guns for Hire
Silver White Winters Melt into Springs, by Honor Song ||
"I have an idea!"
"Is it a good one?"
"We could pretend to date!"
"Ah, so the answer is no, then."
"It can't really be that hard!"
"It really could be."
"And then everyone would think we're on good terms no matter how much we fight!"
"I hate that you're right."
Do I know anything about the DSMP lore?
Do I plan on watching hours and hours of streams just to catch up on the lore?
Have I ever seen a Tommyinnit's lore before?
But I looked up the amount of trauma he has and oh that inspired some of the people over on the Empiresona Discord and me to create AUs where he meets the flower husbands and they form a big happy family after being struck by Apollo and ordered to create.
So now I'm writing fanfics for two of the AUs.
Here's the concepts, tell me what you think.
AU Number 1: The different SMPs being informed of an open server where they can stay temporarily and be in peace so Tommy goes there after the being revived by Dream so he can process his trauma and meets The Codfather, who he doesn't trust because once hurt by a green blond, it leaves you with some trust issues over other green blonds. So Jimmy is determined to befriend and make this absolute wreck of a teen open up, and when he does, he's horrified about all the trauma this child has and he gets his husband to also help the child, thus, adopting him and making him move in to the Empires server.
AU Number 2: Either something goes wrong in the reviving process or Mumza intervenes, and Tommy ends up in another completely different server where he ends up in on the moment the Wither Rose Trio blew up the ravine between the Cod Empire and Mythland and they returned a very familiar object, and Tommy's livid because ~unpleasant memories of the Disc War~ so he goes to check up on the guy trying to prevent himself from having a panic attack, but the man just seems slightly frustrated and immediately upon seeing him, the older blond offers him help and somewhere to sleep in because he looks like a mess and treats his wounds without questioning where he came from, so Tommy IMMEDIATELY attaches himself to this slimy cod man, vowing to protect him from anyone who tries to harm him or mess with him, also slowly bonding with Scott as time goes on, but that's another explanation.
Credits for the first idea go to @victorprusskiy 's and the second idea came from @/seersnake, bringer of angst over on Discord. Was also slightly inspired by @iminyourtwitchchat 's Sunflower Child AU and @scribbling-dragon 's Tommy Smajor AU fics over on AO3.
Working on these fics atm, so yeah, add ideas and give feedback if you want lol.
im in a constant state of joel smallishbeans my beloved
first mcyt that I watched religously, almost every single episode since 2018 at least! :D its kinda funny, joel’s friendgroup + their friends were the first people I ever watched on youtube.
My first ever memory of a youtube video was of Stacyplays and Joey Graceffa playing The Orphanage, which is a minecraft horror map!
lizzie’s videos were introduced to me when i was I think-8? my fren really liked her videos and showed them to me!!
Scott I found more recently but god i really love his content!!! funny minecraft guy who gives us angst in roleplay form very pogchamp!!! gotta love the funky usernames as well very creative!!!
And i cannot forget The Orionsound holy moly this guy shaped my liking of indie and comedy music and i religously listen to all of his song covers on a weekly basis---
like dude listen to his cover of All We Know it bops heres the spotify link - !
just funky minecraft people who shaped my childhood who i still watch and will never get bored of my beloved. so awesome so smart so cool and i am vaguly parasocial and exhausted but hello hi i felt like expressing my thanks!! <3
Squishy Scott, now in digital form! :D
I love this so much :]
[Xornoth remembers playing in the snow with their brother, before Aeor and Exor had claimed them as their champions.]
[Xornoth would accidentally melt the snow they stood around, and Scott would happily replenish it as though nothing had happened.]
[Xornoth would walk past the crops and flowers of their home, and they would wilt in his footsteps. Scott would hug his brother and reassure them it wasn't their fault. Xornoth would feel slightly better, and apologize to the farmers and flourists.]
[Scott would accidentally freeze everybody's wine at the dinner tables, and Xornoth would melt them, sending a wink his way. Scott hoped nobody would notice, and they didn't.]
[It was like a fun little game between them. Loving banter, ice and fire, snow and corruption balancing eachother out.]
[Until they were both chosen, and their bonds were broken.]
[First, Xornoths' corruption became unhinged. Out-of-control. It spread around them as far as the eyes could see, channeling the powers of Exor through their weakest champion.]
[Exor couldn't have a weak champion now, could he? So the corrupted, evil deer god did all that they could in their situation.]
[Turn their heart into ice.]
OmG I cAN'T bELIevE TimMY PrEdicTed LAsT liFE
‘Flower Frost’ - An Empires SMP/Flower Husbands fanfic: Part VII, Cranberry
Flower Frost: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI
Please reblog if you enjoy! <3
Cranberry blossom: Cure for heartache
The gentle crackling of flames was the first sound Jimmy heard upon waking, accompanied by the howling of wind outside. It made a comforting aura, and when he drifted into consciousness once or twice, he retreated back into the embrace of sleep. Upon waking this time, however, he opened his eyes, allowing himself to come back to reality.
He found himself covered by a blanket of soft, thick wool, and furs covering that. Upon sitting up and looking at his surroundings, he saw he was in a small, tidy house of sorts, evidently partially carved into a mountain. At one end, a stone fireplace loomed, casting golden light over the dark wooden floor. There was a desk, bookshelves, a table and chair, but little else. Iron hooks held a single travelling cloak, a simple yet well-made affair of storm-blue wool and silver fur trim.
Just as Jimmy was examining his surroundings, the door across from the fireplace opened. At the creak of hinges, he flattened himself back in bed, preferring to assess the situation from the pressureless view of an invalid. But upon viewing the intruder from under his lashes, he immediately recognised the man who’d entered the room by his hair, that unmistakable shade of blue. He sat up again, shocked but no longer wary.
“Scott?” His voice came out a cracked whisper from disuse, but the man looked towards him, and relief seemed to wash over his face. “You’re awake! Thank Aeor you’re awake.”
Jimmy made to get up, but Scott quickly motioned him to stay. He crossed the room and brought a chair near to Jimmy’s bed. With him nearer now, Jimmy noticed just how drawn he looked. He noted with confusion that Scott wore lambskin gloves, but no cloak to speak of, despite the fact that frost jewelled his hair and wings. Without prelude, Scott said “When I saw you there, lying in the snow and blood staining all around you ...” he trailed off, then gathered himself, whispering “I thought you were dead.”
“I thought I was dead too when I fell. Phantoms got me; tore my elytra and took a few bites for good measure,” he laughed. “I was looking for you, you know. I’m glad I found you - or rather, that you found me.”
Scott did not join him in laughter. “Why?” He breathed, “why did you come looking for me? I told you all not to, don’t you think I had good reason?” Suddenly he was standing again, pacing.
“You shouldn’t be here. Surely you found my letter; surely you know I’m not safe to be around?” He was staring into the fire, face hidden from view.
“You think you started the Plague of Endless Winter, yeah? In that case, there’s not much you can do to me.” Jimmy kept his tone matter-of-fact, but Scott whipped around, saying in an agonised tone, “You ... you don’t mean-“
“I do,” confirmed Jimmy, “One of the rulers was bound to get it eventually. That’s partially why I came to find you.”
Scott looked tormented and collapsed back in the chair by Jimmy, head in his hands. “I had a suspicion when I brought you inside and your breath was still cloudy. But Jimmy ...” he raised haunted blue eyes to meet Jimmy’s, “There’s nothing I can do to reverse the Plague or the winter. I left because all I could do was cause more harm.”
“I know you can’t do anything. We did find the letter - Gem, Lizzie, Joel and I practically held your personal attendant at swordpoint to get in.”
Scott looked wryly amused. “Caspian? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d had to use threats. He’s stubborn at the best of times.”
Jimmy huffed in annoyance. “He would’ve had us write a presentation on why your closest allies should be able to speak with you! I think he made us all suspect him of involvement, actually, before we found your letter. He’s devoted, I’ll give him that.”
“He is ...” Scott murmured. “How are the rest faring?”
Jimmy leant against the wall, wincing at a stab of pain in his shoulder, only then remembering the phantom bites. “Not well,” he said. “The Winter Plague - that's what it’s been dubbed - has reached all the empires. Mezalea and Pixandria are especially struggling because of the winter weather they’re getting; it’s a climate they’re not at all accustomed to or prepared for. Oh, and House Blossom might have to change their name, considering the frost has started killing the flowers.” It was easier to joke darkly about the situation now that he was away, but Jimmy still felt a pang of homesickness.
Scott’s expression was tortured again, and Jimmy felt guilty for joking. Softly, he said “You were cursed, Scott, weren’t you? You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“I can, and I will,” Scott replied, his voice hard. He continued, “And what about Gem?”
Jimmy flinched, looked away. “She’s ... not well,” he mumbled, continuing, “She told us what happened, but only after Fwhip let it slip in a meeting. She didn’t want you demonised. Last I saw, she had a nasty looking wound, like she was stabbed with an icicle. She said it was painful and that she couldn’t find a way to get rid of it, but I don’t know if it was getting worse.”
Tears glittered suddenly in Scott’s eyes, but his voice remained steady as he said “don’t you see why I had to leave? How many more would I have hurt if I’d stayed? What if Gem dies?” Jimmy suddenly grasped his hand, firmly holding it in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “It isn’t your fault, Scott. I know you felt you had to leave, and blaming yourself won’t get us anywhere.” In sudden interest, he added, “Why are you wearing gloves?”
Scott stood, letting go of Jimmy’s hand. “Shall we have supper? It’s about that time, and I don’t know when you last ate. We can talk more afterwards.”
As Scott cooked, the delicious, comforting smell of food filled the little house, and Jimmy took the chance to go to the small washroom to bathe and examine his injuries. The bite to his shoulder was the most severe, while he had another on his calf, and several shallow wounds made by the phantoms’ hooked wings. Goddamned flying doormats. Scott had evidently cleaned and bandaged his injuries, and as Jimmy washed, wincing, he was glad he hadn’t been conscious for it. When he emerged, feeling considerably better for being clean, they ate at the little table. The meal was simple, a stew of rabbit meat and various vegetables accompanied by thick slices of bread, but Jimmy couldn’t remember enjoying something more. It felt a return to normalcy, as though they’d spent the day riding and had returned home to laugh and talk over supper, free of plague, frost, and curses.
After supper, they retired to armchairs by the fireplace, drinking tisane of a deep red hue that Scott had procured. It tasted spiced and tart, reminding Jimmy of something Shrub would've concocted. “I have to compliment you,” Jimmy said, hearing the smile in his voice, “few people could make their exile shack so pretty and comfortable.”
“Well, If I’m to live in self-imposed exile, I decided it might as well be cute,” came the reply. Despite his casual words, he sounded quite pleased.
A relaxed silence descended between them, broken presently by Scott: “How did the others take it when I left?”
Jimmy was mildly surprised at the change of topic, but replied honestly, “Truthfully, you don’t have many fans among the rulers. Fwhip is really angry with you, you know. He accused you causing a catastrophe and running away in cowardice, but I think that’s mostly because he’s scared for Gem ... he blames you for what happened to her, even though she doesn’t. Sausage is on his side, too - you know how he’s practically their third sibling - and most of the others aren’t particularly sympathetic.”
Scott nodded in grim understanding. “I can’t imagine how painful it must be for him. I just wish he knew I’d’ve sooner died than let that happen to any of them ...” he trailed off and sighed, evidently considering the sentiment futile.
“Lizzie, Joel and I are with you,” Jimmy said. “We all wanted to come looking for you, despite the letter, but we just couldn’t. Lizzie said one leader disappearing looked like a fluke, but two or more was abandonment.”
“She was right,” Scott said approvingly. “Our duty is to our people above all else.”
Jimmy laughed, “You sound just like her!”
“I take that as a great compliment,” Scott replied, laughing too. He rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and cupped his chin with his still-gloved hand, looking at Jimmy with a smile, looking, for the first time since they’d met again, truly relaxed and content. “I’m glad you’re here, despite the circumstances.”
“I’m glad I’m here too,” Jimmy agreed, happiness welling in his heart, “despite the circumstances.”
Though he hadn't forgotten Scott's implied promise to tell him the reason for his concealed hands, Jimmy didn't want to ruin what seemed to be the first feeling of contentment Scott had felt in a while. I can ask tomorrow, he thought, and drifted into sleep.
Scott gazed into the flames of the stone fireplace, reposing in the comfortable armchair. The warmth had no effect on him - he'd only lit the fire for Jimmy's sake, and for the aura of comfort and familiarity. Jimmy had fallen asleep, no doubt exhausted. He must've had an arduous journey - flying beyond the borders of Rivendell was trying enough, but with the addition of the winter temperament and being set upon by phantoms ... he shivered involuntarily, thinking how easy it would've been for Jimmy to die, alone in the snow, bleeding to death even as the freezing cold seeped into his very bones. Perhaps he, Scott, would've still found him, days later, a frozen corpse with clipped wings, scavenged upon by crows and wolves. He ran a hand through his hair as though attempting to dispel the dark thought, feeling the slivers of frost that never melted. Had Jimmy noticed? He could be naïve, yes, and easily baited, but he wasn't an idiot. No doubt he'd refrained from inquiring out of respect.
Scott drew off one of the long, lambskin gloves, examining his hand. It was the same as ever, as though the frostbite had refrained from marring his skin. He was fully dextrous, but his skin was the deep, dull purple of a bruise, darkening to cold, onyx-black at the fingertips. He was always cold, now, but it felt rather the same as comfortable warmth would to one unafflicted. He tensed his fingers, watching claws - one of the newer developments - extend, slivers of ice as sharp as knives, cruel and clear. Claws, he'd thought when they'd first grown, Like a real demon.
The parallel between himself and Xornoth was one that seemed to grow closer every day. He had not mentioned that particular reason for his departure in his letter - the fear that he'd follow that same dark, terrible path that Xornoth had fallen prey to. When he'd left Rivendell, he'd left the amulet in his meeting room to the responsibility of the others, and it felt almost like leaving a part of himself behind. Sentimental as it was, it seemed to him to represent a fragment of the brother he'd remembered, the one who'd learnt to ride with him, whose owl was the brother of his own.
Then he was thinking of Drift, his own snowy owl. It had become a custom in the empires for each ruler to have a messenger bird, usually given to them when both were children to allow the two to grow close. Most had birds of prey of some kind - hawks, falcons, eagles - but some, such as Lizzie, whose bird was a black-browed albatross by the name of Eurydice, made exceptions. Several times he’d seen Eurydice soaring with Joel’s bearded vulture, Ozymandias. The two were as close friends as their owners were a couple.
Hell, he thought, what is it about late night and fireplaces that makes one so sentimental and rambling? He pulled himself out of reverie and again looked at Jimmy, curled and sleeping soundly on the other armchair. Conflict swamped him; happiness at Jimmy's being there, but a sense of deep dread at why. He's going to die, came the unbidden thought from the recesses of his mind, He's going to die, and it'll be by your hand.
No, he thought in response, I'd die before letting him.
What do you think your life is worth? The Coward King, The Plaguebringer, the fool, cursed due to his own pride. The unbridled, infected demon who exiled himself before anyone else could.
"Stop it," He growled quietly, hoping to quell that cruel voice by the authority of audible speech.
There was no response, of course. He was so tired. He stood, retrieving a blanket from the bed and returning to drape it over Jimmy's sleeping form before returning to his own chair to surrender into a fitful sleep.
Sleep brought Scott back to Rivendell. He found himself riding, mounted atop Theseus, his mountain stag. His steed bounded through the snow as though it were grass, cloven hooves springing lightly almost atop the light snow. At his side was Jimmy, riding a fawn coated horse and wearing a cloak Scott recognised as one of his own. He was looking forward with an expression of fierce joy, but he caught Scott looking and grinned. A silent challenge went between them: Race?
Matching Jimmy's grin, Scott urged Theseus on even as his companion's horse tossed its head and plunged forward. Sprays of snow spat up from wherever their hooves landed, startled hares occasionally racing out of their burrows in panic. Bitter wind whipped by as though trying to join in the competition. There was an echoing screech, and Scott looked up to see Drift and Oscar flying high, high above, as beautiful as living murals on a cathedral ceiling.
Presently, chest by chest, the horse and the stag crested a ledge that looked down on a wide valley painted with dark green spruce woods. The buds of mountain poppies splattered the land like blood after a hunt, a true sign that spring was approaching. The two jumped from their steeds, who, tired and panting from the run, seemed keen on resting. Drift and Oscar sailed down, landing on the leather-gloved arms offered to them.
“Hey there!” Jimmy crooned to Oscar, stroking his created head, “You in the mood for some more acrobatics?” He opened a leather pouch at his belt, bringing out a sliver of dried fish. Drift took interest at the sight of a reward, and Oscar, knowing the routine, looked expectantly at Jimmy, who flung the scrap far into the air from the ledge. The two birds were off like streaks, and their owners watched in amusement as they raced for the scrap. This was routine for the four of them, a silent place away from the noise and stress of an Empire. It was a place where it was as though they were children again, training their avian companions.
“Bets?” Asked Jimmy, flicking his eyes to Scott.
“5 diamonds on Drift,” he replied, confident.
Jimmy grinned, and as though on cue, the two birds swept back to them, Oscar triumphantly displaying the scrap of fish, Drift looking distinctly disgruntled. Jimmy was jubilant, shouting, “Ahah! He who challenges the Codfather is doomed!”
Scott only rolled his eyes, though he was unable to stop a smile. He snagged another piece of dried meat for the birds and threw it, the scrap followed by two feathery arrows.
“The poppies are so pretty at this time of year,” he murmured absently, gazing down into the valley. Jimmy nodded and seemed about to say more when he stopped, looking at a nearby rock face with an expression of bemusement. Upon following his gaze, Scott saw a peculiar pair of spectators. One a raven, shining black and stately, and the other a peregrine falcon. Both birds appeared to be watching them keenly, and it did not feel the harmless curiosity of a fox or some other creature doing the same. He turned back to Jimmy, intending to speak, but Jimmy had gone. There was no sign of the birds, nor the steeds they’d ridden here. “Jimmy?” He called, the sound empty in itself. The wind was rising, lifting the unsettled snow and sending it skyward. It howled like a lost, mourning creature, and more snow fell, falling so thickly that soon all Scott could see was endlessly swirling white.
When Scott awoke, it was to the clatter of a pan on the furnace top in the little kitchen. There followed the sizzle of something cooking and that slight smell of burnt that indicated breakfast. He stood, stretching, and set about lighting the fireplace.
Presently Jimmy emerged from the kitchen, laden with a pan of fried eggs and a plate of toasted bread. “Breakfast!” he announced proudly, dispensing the offering on the table and returning to the kitchen.
“I’m the host,” Scott commented in amusement, moving to the table to sit, “shouldn’t I be cooking for my invalid guest?”
“Invalid?” Came an indignant voice from the kitchen.
“Yep, invalid. If you’ve made your bites start bleeding I won’t bandage you up again,” he set about dividing the food between them, taking the pan as a plate for himself due to the solitary plate he’d brought into exile. Jimmy returned with a pot of tea and a couple of cups, and huffed, “As though I’m not capable of taking care of a few phantom bites!”
Scott decided a lack of response would be the most annoying to Jimmy, and instead commented, “You’ve burnt the eggs a bit.”
“They’re made with love,” replied Jimmy sternly, adding somewhat defiantly, “And I like them that way.”
“What, burnt or made with love?”
“Both,” he said decisively.
As they ate - Scott enjoyed the meal immensely despite his teasing - they chatted easily, both staunchly avoiding any of the topics discussed the previous night.
repairing love’s destruction; for us, by writerofbaddecisions || “Jimmy didn’t respond, and instead sent a hesitant message through their connection, ‘Will you be able to fix it? I don’t want to be scrapped.’ He says it pleadingly, begging Scott to save him from an upcoming hell, that would be the owners finding out about the injury.”
[ the antlers are inspired by the Winter Guardian Aura Antlers, which is part of Royale High’s Winter Guardian Set, modeled by ReddieTheTeddy and concepted by CHROMASTASIA :D ]
(yeah i play roblox, its fun)