I Think That Zedaph And Jimmy Would Make An Awesome Duo Because Zed Is Perpetually Confusing And Jimmy

I swear my hyperfixation with boat boys is healthy I swear

The word “princess” in Swedish (my first language) is almost always used to refer to a stuck-up, annoying bitch, so ABSOLUTELY not

[Image ID: a low resolution screenshot of ImpulseSV in Limited Life. He is running through an oak forest and facing to the side of the camera. End ID.]

When Impulse kills Bdubs, it almost feels... Anticlimactic.

There's hardly any fanfare. An arrow to the shoulder, another slicing open his cheek. Blood drips down in thin rivers, Bdubs' expression twisted in pain as Impulse knocks another arrow back-

"Should we call a truce?" Impulse asks, a wide grin stretching across his lips. Bdubs scowls at him. Impulse almost laughs. "Bdubs, truce?"

(A faint memory, "Day one team-!")

A wordless shout rips itself from Bdubs' throat. An arrow grazes Impulse's arm, a stinging pain blooming from the cut. Impulse scoffs.

There's a flash of sharp teeth, "That's not a truce," He says, his bow drawn tight.

"Bye!"

The arrow flies through the air, a swift cut as Impulse's bowstring snaps back into place-

Blood spurts from Bdubs' neck. He collapses onto the floor, coughing up crimson as it stains his clothes, smearing red across his skin. Impulse puts down his bow.

He steps forward. Once, then twice, until he's only a foot away.

Impulse watches the light fade from Bdubs' eyes. They go from bright and wide to glassy and dull, his arms giving away from underneath him, a hand draped over the edge.

Impulse stares down at him, his previous grin wiped clean.

Adrenaline still courses through his veins, hot like magma that pounds with the beating of his heart.

Bdubs goes still. Then, his body tips over, sending him tumbling right over the edge.

He disappears in a puff of smoke. The blood on the stone remains.

It feels like nothing. It feels like everything.

Impulse breathes in, breathes out.

That was easier than he imagined it'd be.

(And far less bloody, his mind supplies. Less pleading, no tears shed.)

It's weird, Impulse thinks, his gaze caught on where Bdubs fell. The sky is a bright blue, whisps of clouds framing the view. Why did he...

Impulse frowns, shaking the thoughts from his head. His wings itch.

"We're done, aren't we?" Impulse asks, his voice lost in the vast blue. The wind whispers in his ears. "We're done."

He turns back around. It's not safe to stand still for too long.

Impulse turns his attention back to his team, to the game, and to his plans. He breathes in, slow and steady, like he didn't just watch his ex-soulmate die.

(Like he didn't want to catch him when he fell. Not even for a second.)

Impulse grits his teeth.

No, definitely not.

ASKSHAGWHSDIQGAODIISNSEUEEUWHXHHDSUUAUSW THE SEASON FOUR HYPE IS REAL

<Join Game?>

Etho stares at the message on his communicator until his eyes are nearly blurry. No. No. No. No. If he thinks too hard, his very blood is in flames, burning away himself and Joel. If he thinks too hard, Joel’s triumphant scream pierces the air along with the axe buried in his chest. If he thinks too hard, the scars on his arms turn back to the flame they once were, setting his clothing alight as he screams in agony. 

But They want blood, and who is he to deny Them? Who is he to deny protection to those he couldn’t save before? (He knows he’ll betray them to live anyway.) 

<Ethoslab joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“They want blood… gladly,” Grian’s lips twist up into a sick grin. He’s far beyond caring, and has been since he scrubbed the blood of his lover from his fingernails under the desolate, unforgiving desert sun. 

“Grian?” 

The sick smile disappears as he’s faced with the ghost that has haunted him daily since the beginning. 

“Scar.” 

“One more time?” Scar wears his own tired grin, just as sick as Grian’s, and far more bitter. 

“One more time.” 

(Is this the last time?)

<Grian joined the game

<GoodtimeswithScar joined the game> 

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<Join Game?>

“Wh-now? Are you serious?” Jimmy drops the pile of wood he’d been carrying through the doorway of his empty town. “Right now?” 

There’s no response–there never is, and hasn’t been in months. All that’s left to keep him company are the tumbleweeds, blowing past him, and the mocking, empty vacation houses he’d invited the others to build in the hopes someone would come keep him company.

“Least I won’t be alone, if I go…” Somewhere, there’s laughter, a call from his rancher and respect he’d forgotten he could have. 

That’s all it takes. 

<SolidarityGaming joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“Oh, for goodness sake!” 

He tries to ignore the message for several hours, although it taunts him with every glance down to the communicator, seeing others log off Hermitcraft. Etho. Grian. Scar. Tango. Cleo. Ren. Impulse. 

No, no, not this time. He doesn’t want to go, not when he’s sure Impulse has a matching scar through his chest where Bdubs’ sword betrayed him twice-albeit, on accident the final time. Etho’s long gone–of course he’d go–and Cleo, for reasons well beyond him. Far more hours pass, before he breaks–

“...fine!” 

(He never really had a choice. He’s not proven himself beyond failing those he swore loyalty to, and he won’t rest until then.) 

<Bdoubleo100 joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

Sharp laughter fills the air, like electricity buzzing, and then-

<SmallishBeans joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“No thanks, I’m good mate!” Mumbo shakes his head, already turning back to the flooring of his definitely full vault. 

(Although…) 

…

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<Join Game?> 

“Of course, of course..” Scott chuckles slowly, as if in on some joke that nobody else could ever understand. Like others… he’s far beyond caring, and has been since the lightning arched through the trees to take him despite his supposed victory. But first… he takes his time. Makes himself a drink, watches the sun set orange. After all… the next sunset could be red. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, he turns away. 

<Smajor1995 joined the game> 

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<Join Game?> 

It’s as if the fear and rage she’d felt for weeks before comes back in an instant, electrifying her. She’s typed her answer before she can even think twice about it, half blinded. Why? Why? Why did he do that? 

<PearlescentMoon joined the game>

“Hello, Scott,” she grins up at the rising sun, at the unmarred landscape around her. “Would you like to play a game?” 

DONT FORGET ABT IMPULSE YOU—

HE WAS LEADING THE BLOODY RESISTANCE

ITS ALL CONNECTED

I just realized that with Sausage passing his crown to Cleo at the end of the crossover, Hermitcraft’s Crastle now shares its owners with the original 3rd Life Crastle…

Bdubs as its architect and Cleo as its ruler… it just feels right, doesn’t it?

yoo, hope you're doing alright today! could i get some polish-lithuanian commonwealth quotes?

PLC: Russia, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement.

Russian Empire: Aww, thanks —

PLC: But I can't. Those are the two words that best describe you.

Prussia: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

PLC: Prussia, please!

Prussia: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

Austrian Empire: Where are you going?

PLC: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

@theroboticscientist

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. You’re alive, your name is BigB, you’re a listener and your main residence is on a private server.

BigB shook his head. He knew who he was, so did he suddenly just… lose it?

Coughing broke the silence. He turned his head and saw Ren, hunched over and coughing like he was about to die again.

BigB didn’t have the energy to stand up. He looked at Ren.

Or, well, what had been Ren.

It wasn’t Ren anymore.

Just a huge eye, staring him down. It didn’t blink, and BigB didn’t dare to either. Silence followed, but can there really be silence when a giant eye is staring you down?

The eye narrowed. The purple iris flashed with different shades, making BigBs eyes hurt and he closed them.

He shouldn’t have closed them.

He knew he shouldn’t have closed them.

If there is one word that could describe what happened after, he would like to hear it. Mostly just felt like all your insides being torn out but through your mouth.

BigB flung his eyes open. There wasn’t one purple eye anymore, just about a hundred.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

He cowered back against the ground, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes again.

… what was his name again?

“You’re Tyniq,” a voice cut through the silence. “You know who you are.”

I know who I am. I know who I am. I’ve always known who I am.

But… no. My name isn’t Tyniq. Not anymore. What is my stupid name?

“Already told you. Tyniq.” The voice said again.

Stupid thoughts! Watchers can read minds!

“That you can remember.” The voice was closer now.

That I can remember.

Silence followed again. Whoever he was, whether his name was Tyniq or not, he didn’t know.

The silence was deafening. It must’ve lasted for years, because he could quickly not remember ever hearing sound.

Wings from his head. They must be some sort of instinct he didn’t know he had. The silence was even greater now, like some form of advanced hearing had come along and just made the whole situation worse.

It must’ve been a hand that grabbed one of the head-wings. What else could it be? A hand grabbed the other one too.

“Shouldn’t you be with us instead, Tyniq?” The voice came from nowhere, before the head-wings exploded into excruciating pain.

The greatest pain is removing that of what you live for.

Words: 415

Song inspo: Blow My Brains Out

Lyric: Unlucky me, aware of the pain, all cause I happen to have so brain

The difference between purple pandas love of impulse and impulse being Petty 💜