A Bird That Writes Stuff

Current Interests: Hermitcraft, Traffic SMPs, Empires SMP, Afterlife/New Life SMP | She/Her | My Ao3

[aurabird]

Welcome!

Hello, I am AuraBird (Aura for short). I write mostly fanfic and am a part of the following fandoms:

Hermitcraft

Empires SMP

3rd/Last/Double/Limited Life SMP

After/New Life SMP

All my writing is under the tag my writing but can also be found on my Ao3 as AuraDragoness (because AuraBird was taken when I went to change it)

[aurabird]

The Monster in the Mirror

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

As Xornoth continues his reign of terror in targeting Gilded Hillanthia, he finally meets his match against it's ruler. Meanwhile, several of the other rulers are coming up with ways to counter his corruption and stop him.

[aurabird]

The Devil's After Both of Us

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

When Xornoth pays a visit to Mythland and the Lost Empire he finds himself some willing allies; the emperors of the two empires more than happy to help him in exchange for power. Avid learns there is limits to weaponizing his memories to reign in the said demon's actions...and that they can be a double-edged sword.

[aurabird]

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

When a demon attacks her homeland Shrub, a young gnome, is forced to flee to lands unknown. Xornoth on the other hand, doesn't understand why he could not bring himself to kill her when he had every chance to, why there is something nagging him in the back of his mind. No matter, she still led him to Empiria to enact the will of his master. And Avid? Avid is a prisoner in his own body forced to watch.

[aurabird]

Fate of the Fallen

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

After being staked by those he thought he could trust, Avid finds himself once more in the strange limbo dimension again, this time he is seemingly alone. Left to languish in his regrets and anger it feeds bitterness and a desire for vengeance. So, when an entity claiming to be a God offers him the chance to live once more and get the revenge that he seeks in exchange for freeing them from imprisonment and helping them get their own revenge, how could he refuse?

[aurabird]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Legs wasn't going to make it back to Oakhurst, he knew that the second he'd felt Scott's claws tearing his skin. He had failed so many in the town and so many more before he'd arrived here and now? Now it was time for him to finally die.

Owen, however, is not willing to loose another person he cares so much about.

[aurabird]

The townsfolk of Oakhurst seek to attack the vampire coven that resides in a castle far beyond their walls before they strike first. Upon arrival...they are met with a sight that completely derails that entire plan.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hello! Yes I am very much still alive and very rusty at writing but Vampires SMP has be occupying more of my brain than it probably should and so I bring you this.~

[mromitosen]

I am a PASSIONATE commenter on fanfiction, but sometimes it slows down my reading because I don't want to read if I don't have the mental energy to leave the long comments I want to

Still, as an author, I know even a short note can mean the world.

So, I put together a little guide with different “levels” of comments, so it’s easier to leave something without overthinking!

Hopefully this helps someone else too!

[aurabird]

Final Sacrifice

Ao3 Link

Spoilers ahead for Owen's recent New Life episode.

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

Spread the skulk...Spread the souls...

Those words...those damned words, they echoed in his head during every waking hour, every moment asleep. It was maddening, it was torturous...it had to stop.

Sparrow looked at the massive amounts of explosives before him, rows and piles of red sticks and gunpowder lined every street, every building foundation. This was it, Sparrow knew he should have been scared and yet he only felt regret and anger.

Perhaps...perhaps the skulk had taken such an emotion from him like it had everything else that had once been human.

It couldn't take anything more...he wouldn't let it.

His final farewell and warning rested beyond the now-sealed city gate alongside every recording he ever made, the only things that would prove he had existed; an insignificant human in a world of hybrids and primordial powers beyond comprehension.

Sparrow lit the stick of dynamite in his infected hand and was met with a cacophony of cries from the parasitic fungi that had found its way into his body, his mind, and his soul; begging him to cease his actions, pleading with...no, demanding him to stop.

He didn't listen, and began to walk towards the start of the trail of explosives.

Sparrow winced as he felt the skulk try to further gain control of his motor functions out of desperation to save itself and its chosen host. He could feel the fungal tendrils of the parasite intertwine deeper beneath his skin, pulling against him as he walked closer to the line of explosives. Each step was as if his bones were made of lead and he was walking through molasses.

The faces of those he once knew and those he had met in this land flashed before him as he forced himself to move.

He remembered the good moments, from when he was still human. Memories that he looked back at with a fondness at the joy they had brought him, and melancholy at where...when it had all gone so, so horribly wrong; when he'd changed.

The bad moments were next. He saw the expression of fear on Sausage's face as the Warden struck him down, saw the look of horror in Scott's eyes before the skulk made him take the hybrid's life in the worst way possible. This was for them...ALL of them and anyone else who would stumble upon this accursed and forsaken city.

Control of his limbs was becoming more difficult, his body now almost fully taken over. But in a final act of defiance, Sparrow forced the arm holding the dynamite above his head, turned to face the closed city door...and released his grip.

The skulk screamed as the city went up in flames, pain flaring through every nerve in Sparrows body from how intertwined he had become with the now-burning fungus sending him to his knees.

A single tear dripped from his eyes as he felt the heat wave approach him. Sparrow let out final cry of agony as the explosion engulfed his prone form and then, only darkness. Sweet, blissful, and silent darkness.

He was finally free.

-

Up on the surface patches of skulk withered, their spread halted by the destruction of the gateway leading from their realm of origin.

While many of the hybrids that once lived in this land had either perished or moved on, their homes now overgrown and reclaimed by nature; those that remained may never know of the great sacrifice that had occurred deep beneath the earth.

But they would all meet again in time, for unknown to all of them, their kindred spirits would find each other and unite once more just as they always did and always will.

[aurabird]

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 10: Shenanigans

In which Xornoth finds himself roped into more pranks and activities

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

---------------  

The next few days were mostly uneventful for Xornoth aside from the occasional antics going on in Boatem that he bore witness to.

There was now a dirt structure Scar had built spiraling into the sky and ending right above the Boatem Hole and a strange-but-nevertheless-mind-blowing flying machine in the sky between Mumbo’s base and Midnight Alley. Both new additions being the result of messing with Grian while the avian was in a meditative state.

On top of that, Xornoth had watched Grian remove several black banners placed by the Big Eye’s crew advertising their iron shop, an establishment apparently sponsored by Mumbo himself.

There really was never a dull moment in Boatem.

Today, however, would hopefully be more eventful for Xornoth personally as he made his way over to the Swaggon by Scar’s request. Apparently, his fellow Hermit had something for him, a hat to be specific.

“So I didn’t exactly know what you’d like but given what you have told us and the plans for your base I managed to make something that I really hope you enjoy.” Scar explained as they entered the hat shop.

“If it’s anything like the hats I’ve seen on the others I’m sure it’s amazing, Scar.”

It was true, the hats that every other member of Boatem now wore had been beautifully made and Xornoth was excited to see what Scar had made for him.

“Well, if there’s anything about it that you don’t like I’m perfectly fine with changing it. Are you ready to see?”

“I am.”

At the confirmation Scar grabbed something off a hook behind him and turned around with a dramatic flourish, presenting the hat in question.

Xornoth had expected it to be a crown of some sort as a throwback to the fact Empiria was a land of monarchs. Instead, it was modeled after a sheep wearing a silver circlet on its head, a dopey look in its beady eyes that made it absolutely adorable.

A smile crossed his face at the sight, “Scar…I love it.” 

“Oh thank goodness!” Scar sighed in relief as Xornoth took the hat from him to get a closer look, “I was so nervous that I would trigger a bad memory or something with the crown on its head and all! I hope it fits, it's a bit hard to design something for a person with antlers, you know?”

“Only one way to find out.” Xornoth said before turning to a mirror on the wall and putting the hat on, finding it fit perfectly between the growths on his head and making his smile grow even wider at just how perfect it seemed to match him.

After leaving the Hat Shop and making his way back to the central area of Boatem Xornoth noticed the giant sign that read ‘Octagon’ that was now a part of the long-legged monstrosity that was selling things on Boatem’s coast.

The voices of Grian and Impulse then reached his ears, the former sounding very annoyed compared to usual.

As the two Hermits in question came into view Xornoth was able to see why. The Octagon sign wasn’t the only advertisement in Boatem, every other establishment with the exception of Horse-Head Farms had left something in the village square.

“...advertise and bring people here. Oh look, it's Xornoth!”

“Hey you guys. What are you two up to?”

“First off, I love your hat.” Grian began with a smile, “And secondly, I’ve got a really good idea for marketing! We just have to decide who we’re going to do it to”

“Is this…aggressive marketing?” Impulse asked.

“It is very in-your-face marketing.”

“Oh I love it.”

“Oooh, so we just have to pick someone then right?” Xornoth questioned.

Grian nodded, “Well we’ve got Octagon, Rons, the Evil Emporium, and Cleo who all think its fine to advertise here so we can definitely advertise there.”

After several minutes of back-and-forth chatter and Impulse darting off to gather several shulkers of logs Xornoth and Grian found themselves over at the Octagon atop a platform the latter Grian had constructed above the shop.

“I don’t exactly know if this is going to work the way I think it’s going to work.” Grian admitted as he began to build.

“Yeah, how exactly do you have this in your head?” Xornoth questioned.

“Redstone.” Grian finished as he placed two observers and a dispenser down; the latter component beginning to activate as it got a signal. “There. Stage one is complete.”

Impulse arrived with the shulkers of requested logs and Grian was quick to explain how his plan would work as he began to craft several boats, shrinking them to a smaller size and then tossing them into a hopper that had been placed above the firing dispenser.

Xornoth laughed with Impulse as he watched the component spit the boats back out at full size, instantly dropping them down into the shop below and causing several stacks to begin forming.

“Now we just take this to the extreme!” Grian cackled with devious glee at the flawless execution of his plan.

The trio went on to ‘boat bomb’ Big Eyes Bay, this time letting the boats all occupy the same spot as opposed to letting them spread out. Once finished, they settled down on the nearby mountainside and waited for one of the residents to investigate the prank. It wasn’t long before Tango showed up and proceeded to cause all the boats to explode in every direction.

Roaring laughter resounded from the three members of Boatem at the display, “That was SO MUCH faster than I expected it to be!” Grian exclaimed.

After they had managed to compose themselves they flew down to greet Tango, the half-blazeborn now thoroughly flustered. “Buy at Boatem!” Grian laughed before proceeding to hop around on the many boats in the water, Xornoth and Impulse following suit.

“I will remember this!” Tango threatened with a grin, caught up in laughing himself as he joined in on the boat-hopping antics, everyone getting stuck between the wooden vessels occasionally.

After a farewell to Tango the trio took off, returning to their original plans for the day. Xornoth landed in the center of New Rivendell with a massive smile on his face and was more than energized to build the storage building he had planned so that he could finally move all his resources from his house and various other random locations strewn about the mountain, into one dedicated place.

-

Xornoth had spent most of the following morning preparing for the long, arduous process of moving and sorting his items into the now-finished storage building and decided to take a break to check the Boatem group chat to see if he’d missed any messages while he had been working. Scrolling up to the last message he read, two Mumbo had sent earlier caught his eye. 

<MumboJumbo> errr guys

<MumboJumbo> the boatem hole has bedrock in it

Xornoth looked at the image sent in the chat and was confused. He knew bedrock didn’t simply regenerate, be it through magic or otherwise and it prompted him to go check it out for himself after putting all his gear and supplies into his enderchest.

Even if bedrock had once again sealed up the hole into the void, Xornoth wasn’t going to take any chances. He wasn’t procrastinating, that would be nonsense.

Upon his arrival to the scene Xornoth dared to look down into the Boatem Hole and, just like Mumbo had said, the area that normally led to the void was once again covered in bedrock.

Curious, he decided to descend into the depths to investigate the strange phenomenon, setting his feet down on the layer of bedrock…

…and falling through immediately after.

Xornoth let out a panicked yelp as he tried to stabilize, but to no avail as his wings did not react fast enough. The inky blackness of the void filled his lungs, suffocating him; waves of pain flaring through his entire body as he was pulled further down into the abyss.

Xornoth fell out of the world

He jolted awake in his bed with a gasp, panting heavily as he took in fresh air. His communicator pinged multiple times in quick succession as he recovered from the traumatic respawn, no doubt Hermits worried about him. He quickly shot a message in the chat saying he was fine and that he didn’t lose anything except a bit of pride.

Once the post-mortem effects had worn off Xornoth got out of bed and figured that he already decided that he would not actually move everything into his storage building today so, he may as well just fly around and see what the other Hermits were up to.

Again, definitely not procrastinating at all, he just needed to interact more with his fellow Hermits outside of Boatem.

His flight took him to various locations to try and find Hermits to interact with and Xornoth found himself roped up in a game he’d never heard of before known as Leaf Spleef with Cub, Joe, and Cleo, getting to know them better in the process. It was nice, to be able to just goof around and have fun without any real responsibility or a kingdom to eventually run.

The sun had begun to set by the time he had begun to make his way back to Boatem, flying over Big-Eyes bay and seeing it still covered in boats.

As Xornoth passed over the Evil Emporium, the one shop he never really visited often since most of his supplies were easy to harvest himself, he took notice of the individual pacing in front of the stairs, red armor contrasted against a deepslate and blackstone building with a glass orb atop it.

Curious to talk to the one Hermit he knew so little about, Xornoth descended, landing a bit away from Exiel before approaching.

“Um…hi?” He began in greeting, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was just passing through on my way back to Boatem and saw you pacing; thought I might as well take the chance to speak with you since you’re like, the only Hermit I have had no interactions with at all.”

Exiel turned to him, red eyes meeting Xornoth’s own and causing the elf to freeze up. He could almost picture veins of crimson marring the voidkind’s skin under the armor, pulsating with dark power that drove the corrupted individual to madness and…

“Oh, you're the elf they recently adopted.”

The blunt remark snapped Xornoth from his spiraling thoughts and back to reality, “Uh….yeah. That’s me, I’m Xornoth.”

“Well, Xornoth. Welcome to my humble abode I suppose. And no, I’m just frustrated at my stupid brother installing a machine at Octagon that completely ruins the entire point of the Hermits buying derpcoin from the Emporium!”

Xornoth let out a chuckle, “Brothers, am I right?”

The comment made Exiel give him a quizzical look, “You have a brother too?”

“I do. We aren’t as close anymore though, not like we were before destiny and fate tore us apart for the sake of prophecy.”

“‘Suma and I weren’t as close as we are now, you know. I resented my brother and what he had so I found myself aligned with a malicious individual who convinced me that the solution to my problem was to embrace it and destroy everything that Xisuma knew. I tried for many years but deep down I had started to grow fond of the band of misfits and runaways he surrounded himself with and began to realize that what I was doing was wrong. After everything I’d done though, I felt I had no chance at forgiveness so I banished myself to wallow in my own pity. When I came crawling back to Xisuma I was desperate for purpose, I never expected forgiveness from him, let alone the invitation to join the Hermits…but here I am, I suppose. If there was hope for me to redeem myself, then there’s probably hope for you and your brother as well.”

Xornoth gave a bittersweet smile, “It’s a nice thought, but Scott probably thinks I’m dead and after everything I did to him and those he called his friends, redemption and forgiveness are no longer an option for me.” he paused a moment before continuing, “But it’s fine, I have all the Hermits now. After decades of being a pawn of destiny, I am finally free to do whatever I want, to be my own person with my own choices.”

A sly grin crossed Exiel’s face at Xornoth’s words, “Well, how about you use that freedom to make your own choices and buy something with that Derpcoin my brother gave you a while back?”

A laugh escaped Xornoth at the comment, “I blew it all buying wood at Octagon for the boat bomb prank we did there and at Big-Eyes Bay.”

“You realize that you buying the wood from them is a win in their eyes, right?”

“Yes, but it was hilarious all the same. Grian is debating hitting up this place next you know? Perhaps, if you give me some derpcoin I can convince him to spare you guys?~”

“You’ve been hanging around with Scar too much. You’re picking up on his marketing habits.”

Xornoth smiled, “I’m only joking, we will probably hit Big-Eyes bay for the bedrock fiasco next.” he tossed two of the diamonds he’d won from Leaf Spleef earlier to Exiel, “How much derpcoin will that get me?”

A few derpcoin richer, Xornoth bid farewell to Exiel and continued to make his way back to Boatem, landing on the balcony of his house and going inside to freshen up as the moon began to cast its glow on the land below. 

Before he settled down for the night he checked to see what he’d missed in the main and Boatem chats.

<Grian> Who’s up for getting back at Big-Eyes Bay tomorrow?

<ImpulseSV> I’m in!

<MumboJumbo> Same

<GoodTimeWithScar> Can’t, was invited to test the horse course with Bdubs and Etho.

<Grian> No worries. Xornoth, are you up for more pranking?

Xornoth, feeling bad he’d missed most of the conversation typed out his response

<Xornoth> Sorry for the late reply, I was busy most of today. Definitely in; dying to the void this morning was the worst.

With his message sent, Xornoth silenced his communicator and called it for the night, looking forward to the pranking of Big Eyes bay…

…and still denying that it was an excuse to get out of moving everything into his storage building.

[aurabird]

Desperate Measures

Sparrow attempts a risky experiment on himself out of his desperation for abilities. The results of his efforts are nothing short of painful and traumatizing.

Owen’s latest New Life episode gave me many thoughts so I bring you this.

Tw: Implied body modification, body horror, self-experimentation.

Ao3 Link

----------

Sparrow checked the machine for what was probably at least the hundredth time. It had to work perfectly, otherwise...

...he didn’t want to think about the outcome of what would happen if just one of the mechanisms was even the slightest bit off, shaking the unbidden horrific images from his head.

Everything was in order, yet a sense of dread washed over him. He was desperate...so, so desperate, for some kind of power, ANY kind of power.

Gaining abilities after death was not a certainty, for while some of the residents in this land had in fact in fact died and simply come back with different abilities, they were hybrids to begin with. He was only human, nothing more; there was no way he could be sure what brought them back would work on him.

He could have approached this in some other way of course, it had crossed his mind to simply experiment on the hybrids in this land and try and figure out what made them what they were so that he could then replicate it.

But he’d shot that idea down instantly at the image of Scott in a cage laying in his own blood, the carefree and joyful glow in his heterochromatic eyes dulled from being drugged or tortured. No, Sparrow could never do something like that to him; or any of the other hybrids he’d met for that matter.

That’s what led him down the path he had gone. If he refused to experiment on hybrids then he would experiment on himself instead.

It began to rain as he shakily approached the chamber, trying to ignore the various devices that would dig into him once he sealed his fate.

The door of the chamber closed once he was inside, his back against cold metal. Restraints clamped around his wrists and ankles, a precaution to ensure he would not struggle.

The walls shut around him, casting darkness over everything. Sparrow was alone now with only his fear and mechanical whirring sounds for company.

All at once pain shot through every atom in his body. It was like he was being torn apart and then pieced back together on a molecular level. He supposed, that probably was exactly what was happening to him, given what he designed the machine to do.

Sparrow could not fight back the reflex urge to cry out in sheer agony as the machine worked, even though the scream was simply swallowed up by the sounds of everything else.

The worst part of everything was that Sparrow could feel the overwhelming energy that came with having far too many conflicting powers, feel his body try and adjust to the changes being made to his DNA.

Everything hurt, everything burned. Sparrow just wanted it all to stop! Please! Make it stop!

Once more a cry was wrenched from his throat, this time followed by a resounding BANG as behind his closed eyelids Sparrow saw a flash of white, felt the warmth of the explosion that had occurred.

And then he was on the ground, sobs racking his body as he cried, curled up tightly in a ball for comfort.

Elemental particles of all kinds swirled around him, parts of his body ever-shifting between various stages of corporeal. Two pairs of wings had torn free from his back, the feathers and leathery membranes coated in a deep crimson; feline ears were pressed flat against his head, curling horns nestled between them.

Even his scaled tail thrashed with discomfort and pain.

Sparrow forced himself to open his eyes, finding his vision was mismatched. From one eye, he could see color; from the other, only monochrome shades.

It was then that the horrifying realization of what he’d done in his desperation finally dawned on him.

He’d introduced several types of hybrid and fauna DNA into his own without any care for what it may do to him.

He almost didn’t want to see what he’d turned himself into, the newfound feeling of appendages he definitely did not have prior to stepping into the machine and the fact that his body felt like it was floating but also on fire told him everything he needed to know.

Despite his fear, Sparrow began to crawl; away from the machine behind him, away from what he knew were several sharp objects stained with his own blood. He made his way over to the edge of the peninsula he called home, towards the ocean to get a look at himself.

He tried to ignore the fact his arms were not human anymore.

Cool water lapped against his webbed and scaled fingers as grass turned into sand. The ocean called to him, yet his instincts also told him to get far, far away from it.

The face that reflected back was still his, save his mismatched eyes and the horns and ears. At least some of his facial features from before had remained; he didn’t want to think about what would have happened if no one realized that he was still Sparrow.

He then turned to inspect the rest of him, being met with the sight of something not human nor hybrid; some kind of chimeric, humanoid creature.

This was the price for his hubris...and it was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.

That was all it took for him to break. Sparrow curled into a ball once more and wept, his sobs the only thing audible underneath the static that filled his still-ringing ears.

He didn’t know how long he lay there in the sand, but soon another sound aside from his sobs could be heard. Were those...voices?

Sparrow opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a hiccup and a gasp. He could feel nothing but pain, couldn’t see anything but a mess of colors blurred by tears. If someone...or something was here, maybe they would just put him out of his misery.

A whisper of reassurance and a brief flash of orange and cyan broke through the fog of his mind, a familiar face...before everything went black.

[aurabird]

The design of Xornoth’s wing prosthetic as seen in my fic A Search For Belonging

The damaged wing is what Xornoth’s looked like pre-prosthetic compared to what they used to look like and the bottom is with the prosthetic on.

Basically, the prosthetic ‘arm’ itself is like an exoskeleton and attached to a modified elytra harness so that it doesn’t just come off the wing from the general motions of flight. Attached to the framework are artificial feathers that tuck right under the coverts. Special sensors in the joints of the brace detect muscle movement so the wings fold and open as they would normally.

Also, as for Xornoth’s wings in general. They’re based off those of a great grey owl.

[aurabird]

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 9: Wings and Things

Xornoth pays Doc a visit and learns more about the past and present antics of his new family.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

--------------- 

Xornoth awoke to the smell of food and stretched a little before getting out of bed and making his way downstairs.

“Morning Xornoth!” Ren greeted with a smile, “Hope you don’t mind but I made some breakfast as I missed dinner last night. There’s some extra if you want it.”

Xornoth returned the expression, Ren’s cheery demeanor contagious, “Not at all.” he replied, putting a few pancakes on a plate and joining his fellow Hermit at the table,  “Thanks.”

After finishing breakfast and cleaning up Xornoth found himself following Ren down to the shoreline and joining him in a small rowboat for the ride back to Octagon.

When they docked Xornoth could not help but let his gaze travel upwards at the sheer size of the structures in the area, still as impressive as when he’d seen them during Grian’s tour of the continent. 

Ren proceeded to then guide him to an area around the back of Octagon where a button was pressed and a part of the wall moved away, revealing a staircase, “Doc’s workshop is downstairs, come on.”

Xornoth still found Doc mildly terrifying despite the creeper hybrid’s demeanor and friendliness. He had expected the stairwell down to the workshop to be spooky and ominous like some form of dungeon but found it was lit up rather nicely and the walls matching the color and style of the building above.

Once the duo reached the bottom Xornoth was met with a massive room. He looked around the area in awe at the random bits and bobs and strange devices scattered about on tables among crates of redstone of both the dust and crystalized variety, as well as the blueprints pinned to the walls; one of which Doc was looking at intently.

“Hey Doc, I brought a guest.” Ren called, announcing their presence. The Hermit in question turned to look and gave a smile as he caught sight of them.

“I had begun to think that you never leave Boatem.” he said with a chuckle, “Welcome to Octagon, Xornoth. What brings you here?”

“Ren said that you...might be able...to fix my wings.”

Doc’s expression turned sympathetic “Ah, I remember Grian saying you were unable to fly. Well, come on over here and let me take a look at them.”

Xornoth did as instructed and approached, stretching out his wings. “May I?” Doc inquired, motioning to the delicate feathers that remained.” he got a nod in response.

A shiver went down Xornoth’s spine as Doc’s hands came into contact with the feathers, it’d been so long since he’d allowed anyone to touch his wings with consent and the fingers moving through them was making him anxious.

“Hmm...alright, I think I can work with this. The wing structure is still intact, all that’s missing is the feathers that allow flight. The first option would just be to embed feathers into your wing directly where they are missing; and the other option is a device that would allow attachment of the missing feathers in exchange for possibly limiting some mobility, but I could fix that issue over time as well.”

Xornoth thought about it for a moment before replying, “I’ll go with the second option if that’s alright with you.”

Doc smiled and nodded, “Perfectly fine. I’ll take some measurements of your wings and then just give me a few days to come up with something that will work.”

-

It was five days later when Xornoth’s communicator alerted him with a private message from Doc regarding the completion of the device that would fix his wings. He had wasted no time in putting away the materials he’d been building with and rushing over to Octagon shortly after.

When he entered Doc’s workshop he saw the man over by a table and announced his presence, Doc greeted him and motioned Xornoth over.

On the table was a harness very similar to that of an elytra, only this one had a metal framework on either side with artificial feathers attached to them where primaries and secondaries would usually be found. 

“In theory, the framework should fit right against the structure of your wing like a brace.” Doc explained, motioning to the device, “The harness is so that the framework itself doesn’t come off from the motion of you flying. There’s also sensors at the joints that will detect your muscle movement so everything should fold and open as normal.”

Xornoth touched the constructs, feeling the feathers and metal “Doc, these are stunning…”

“Thank you, I’ve never done something like this for a wing before, so it was also a nice little challenge for myself. I still see a few flaws in their design but I can fix those later, I think you’ve waited long enough for this. Ready to try them on and see if they work?”

With an eager nod Xornoth spread his wings, allowing Doc to help him equip the device and secure everything in place. When he was done, Doc turned him to face a mirror and spoke, “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

Xornoth looked at the attachments on his wings. If they were stunning on the table, they were beautiful now that he had them on. He gave them a few test flaps and tried folding his wings, finding everything worked as it should.

“Can I try flying?” he asked in excitement.

“Not much room for that in here, let’s go outside.”

The warmth of the sun greeted them as they left the workshop and Xornoth began to flap his wings. It took several strokes, but eventually the ground beneath him vanished as he got airborne. A laugh escaped him as he began to maneuver and twist through the sky, he was flying!

It wasn’t perfect, Xornoth could tell a few of his movements were restricted; but Doc had mentioned that the device would limit some of his mobility at the start and over time those limits could eventually be fixed. For now, he was content with the feeling of actual flight after so long without it.

Doc watched from the ground, a smile on his face at the sheer joy and laughter above him as Xornoth did experimental flips and spins, diving and swooping through the sky without a care in the world at the freedom returned to him.

When Xornoth decided to land he instantly ran to Doc and wrapped his arms around him, tears of joy going down his face. “Thank you, Doc.” he managed to say.

Doc returned the gesture, “You’re a Hermit now, Xornoth.” He began, “And Hermits help each other no matter the odds.”

-

After spending a bit more time with Doc and eventually Ren when the werewolf caught sight of them, Xornoth said his goodbyes and made the flight back to Boatem to show his fellow basemates his new prosthetics and return to building his village.

He’d have to give the place an official name at some point.

As he flew over Boatem, he caught sight of Mumbo and Grian over by the G-Train and Cheapslate, the latter of which had been covered in water.

Curious, he landed in a tree within earshot, watching the antics of his fellow Hermits.

“Does it have to get cheaper then?” Grian asked as he gestured to a sign that read ‘Every time my store gets vandalized it gets cheaper’ in large letters, the tone in his voice one of mischief.

“Are you sure you didn’t do this?”

“No~”

Mumbo changed the price sign on the pile of deepslate and exchanged a few more words with Grian about putting the G-Train out of business with the better prices of Cheapslate’s wares comparatively before Grian removed the water and replaced it with lava instead with a devious grin on his face.

“You’re holding an empty bucket mate!”

“I was just trying to remove the water and it turned into lava.”

“Even though this store is really difficult to navigate to, I feel like now I’m going to get all the business.”  Mumbo replied as he wrote on another sign, this one reading ‘1 diamond, 1 chest’

“Alright, sold. I’ll take the lot!” Grian declared, tossing six diamonds over to Mumbo before going over to remove the lava and take the stock out of the chests.

“No wait! You weren’t supposed to abuse my system like that buddy!”

“What do you mean~”

“No, that wasn’t the plan! The plan was that it was supposed to be so cheap that no one would shop at your store, not that you would also shop at my store!”

“You should have put that in the terms and conditions!”

Xornoth watched their antics for a bit longer before making his presence known. “Hey you two, what’s going on over here?” He asked.

“I just vandalized Mumbo’s shop and now I own it!” Grian responded with pride 

“Well joke’s on you because I have seven diamonds now and I’ve just made a bunch of coal sales!” Mambo laughed as he tossed a few diamonds to Grian and grabbed several bags of coal.

Grian’s grin grew wider “Well I have a bit of a confession to make. Most of that I borrowed from your chests so…”

“Wait, so I just bought my own coal?!”

“You bought your own coal!”

“This is the worst day of my life!”

Xornoth couldn’t help but join in on the laughter of his fellow Hermits and their antics, only stopping when Grian took notice of the new additions on his wings.

“But enough about the two of us!” He said with a smile, “I see your visit to Doc went well! Your wings are looking amazing!”

“Thanks, I just finished a test flight with them, they work wonderfully. Doc is really a genius when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“You should have seen the stuff he did during the civil war! The man’s absolutely insane.”

“I don’t think you ever told me the story behind that one, care to elaborate?”

Grian grinned, “I honestly don’t remember exactly how it started but Doc will claim it’s because I messed with one of the bushes at his base!”

-

As Grian recounted the story of the pranks leading up to the civil war to Xornoth and the horrible job Mumbo did as a mole, the trio was joined by Scar and Impulse, both of which happily added to the conversation with their own perspectives of the event.

Xornoth couldn’t help but toss in a few things he’d witnessed back on Empiria into the impromptu storytime, even if he hadn’t been in the right state of mind at the time the antics of the rulers' squabbles had always amused him and, judging by the reactions from his fellow Hermits, them as well.

“How’s the sketchbook working out for you by the way Xornoth?” Scar questioned, “Have you used it yet?”

Xornoth nodded and grabbed the item in question from his satchel to show to the other members of Boatem, “It's been working wonderfully, Scar. I have three more ideas for buildings I plan to construct!” 

Scar looked at the page being displayed, “Xornoth that looks amazing! What is it going to be?”

“A barn for sheep since they were iconic to the region.” he said before he turned the page, “And this one will be a storage building. The third one is still in the planning stages but I’m thinking maybe a forge of some sort!”

“Have you decided on a name for your village yet Xornoth?” Impulse questioned.

“No, but a part of me is thinking about calling it ‘New Rivendell’ for the sake of nostalgia and because of how similar it is to my original home.”

“Do you miss it at all?” Mumbo asked, “Your homeland?”

The smile on Xornoth’s face turned more sentimental at the question, “Sometimes, yes. I miss my twin brother the most if I’m being honest. Before…everything that happened to me, we were close and did everything together. Destiny tore us apart but even though we became enemies in the end, I realize now in my clear state of mind that deep down I never stopped loving him. Even if he probably thinks I’m dead, I hope he’s alright.”

[chillingkoo]

ask game for fanfic writers

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that? 

talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

what’s your worst writing habit? 

where do you share your writing?

where is your favorite place to write?

what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

what is your favorite trope to write?

pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

how do you deal with writers block?

on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

handwritten notes or typed notes?

give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

do characters influence your writing style?

do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

how do you name characters and places?

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

how many stories do you work on at one time?

are you an avid reader?

best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

how did writing change you?

any writing advice you want to share?

name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

what time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?

what story are you most proud of?

do you reread your own stories?

do you want to be published some day?

do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve read fic?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve written fic?

what was the first commercial property (book/movie/tv show/etc) that you realized was actually professional fanfiction?

what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read? 

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

when have you felt the most confident in your writing? 

when have you felt the least confident?

how long will you spend on a story or scene before you give up?

how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?

what do you do if a scene gets too serious?

how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

are you a planner, pantser, or planster?

do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

how do you write kissing scenes?

how do you choose where to end a chapter?

are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?

do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

“proper” punctuation or all lowercase?

less is more or more is more?

said: overused or underused?

what would be on a moodboard for your current wip(s)?

which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

does your writing style change depending on the genre you write?

if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?

do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

how has your writing style changed over the years?

first, second, or third person?

do you hear other people’s writing styles when they talk?

do you prefer dialogue or description?

do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?

romantic/social sideplots: interesting or irritating?

abstract or detailed romance scenes?

what don’t you like about your writing style?

was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

open question to the writer.

a compiled list of asks for me to reference. they are not my own. just some of my favorite questions i’ve picked out from a couple different lists. feel free to reblog and use too!!

[aurabird]

This seems fun :D Feel free to shoot some asks my way

[aurabird]

Winner’s Lament

With the release of Limited Life I decided to revisit an old idea that I came up with in the middle of the night and finish it. Enjoy some Double Life AU angst!

Ao3 Link

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

Scott faced Pearl as she walked up from the shadows, her red cloak and eyes alongside the bloodstained axe and undershirt she wore would, in any other situation, be terrifying to him; but the game was over, they’d won, the others were all dead.

He didn’t get to say goodbye to Cleo, his chosen soulmate rather than the one he had been bound to, they’d gotten separated and somehow she had died, he knew she had the moment it happened.

Wolves gathered around Pearl’s legs as she stopped in the clearing, her gaze meeting his own.

“I didn’t think it would end this way.” He said nervously, a sick feeling forming in his chest, “I don’t know what happened to Cleo after you killed the other two.”

Pearl giggled, manic and gleeful, “Yeah, they turned on me and started killing my dogs so...”

“And you managed to turn it around?” he questioned.

“You know it!” Pearl replied with a laugh.

Scott sighed, “I didn’t think it would come down to the two of us. There was many ways I thought this was gonna go, I never thought the final two would be us, I never thought we would win.”

“I honestly didn’t have a lot of faith in us, but I had faith in myself and Tilly and Till’s now passed away so...”

Scott opened his mouth to reply to Pearl’s comment but all that came out was a cry as he recoiled in pain, a cacophony of malevolent voices echoing in his mind.

“Bring her to us, Starborne! That is an order!”

Scott grit his teeth as he clutched the sides of his head. He knew those voices, those damned voices that whispered and commanded him, trying to force him to do things he didn’t want to. No, he wasn’t like Grian, he wasn’t going to bend to the will of The Watchers, even if he technically was one himself now thanks to these stupid death games.

“No.” He thought back in defiance, “I’ve done everything you asked me to, I won’t submit another innocent person to servitude under your tyranny!”

Another spike of pain through his skull, this one sending him to his knees.

“Scott?! Scott what’s wrong!” Pearl’s voice broke through his stupor, the once-playfully malicious tone now gone, replaced by genuine concern as she grabbed his hands.

“Insolent child! She’s not innocent. She was once one of us, we want her back and you will bring her to us!”

“Why? So you can puppet her around like you do with Grian? Like you’ve done all of us in these experimental games of yours?!”

“Scott, you’re scaring me!”

He forced his eyes open at Pearl’s desperate cry “Th-The W-Watchers...” he began, “They want you back...and I’ve given them the perfect opportunity by winning this damn game with you.”

He then looked at the sky and forced himself to his feet, “Isn’t that right, you sick bastards?!” he snapped, “The soul bonds, they were rigged weren’t they?! Each one of them was planned wasn’t it!”

“How very perceptive of you, Starborne.” one of the Watchers said in his mind. As they spoke, Scott swore he could see the eyes of the otherworldly beings in the moon above him. “But you will do as we wish, there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

That is when Scott felt agony wash over him, ancient power forcing his body move on its own. Against his will, he summoned the TNT from his inventory to his hands and began placing it around him mechanically.

Pearl’s eyes went wide in realization “Scott?! Scott no! What are you doing?! Stop!”

Scott didn’t heed her plea, his body no longer under his control as he ignited the fuse of the explosives at his feet. Tears beginning to stream down his face from now-magenta eyes, blood dripping down his back from the pair of violet wings that had ripped free once more.

Pearl started to run towards him, tripping over a hole in the ground and falling to her hands and knees in her panic. “Don’t leave me Scott! Please! You don’t have to do this!”

Scott’s gaze met hers, a somber expression on his face hidden behind a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry, Pearl. You don’t deserve this any more than I do but...Tilly death do us part. Goodbye.”

An explosion shook the world at the final word and after a brief moment of sheer agony from the TNT blast hitting her, Pearl opened her eyes to find herself in a void...with malevolent purple eyes all around her.

Pain flared throughout her entire body seconds later, as once more The Watchers brought her back under their control.

[aurabird]

Unwanted Feeling

Scott felt it settle into his veins, the unwanted feeling of bloodlust and survival instinct making itself at home without invitation. It’d been so long since he last felt it that he almost had forgotten what it felt like...and he hated it.

The whispers and commands came next, the voices in his head baying for him to kill. He hated them too, the owners had caused him and everyone else so much anguish and pain.

Had he not won one of these death games, he probably would have been able to control the urges better, resist the orders he was being given. But not this time, The Watcher’s grasp on him was too strong and all he could do is grit his teeth in frustration and anger.

He knew why they picked him as the first bearer of this bloodlust curse, it was poetic of his defiance against them when it came down to loosing a life or killing his allies.

Scott looked at the sky and growled, that same fire of defiance in his eyes as he imagined meeting those of his malevolent overseers.

“IS THIS A JOKE TO YOU!” he snapped, clenching his fists.

“Yes.” came a malicious and condescending voice in reply.

[aurabird]

The Deal

Having watched Jimmy’s most recent episode and seen Sausage’s latest empires stream (2/24/23) this idea would not leave my brain.

Ao3 Link

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

It had been several days since the events that occurred on The Great Bridge and Jimmy sat in his office, a plan to get revenge on his mind.

If the other emperors wouldn’t respect him for upholding the law, then they would fear him instead. After all, how else did the tyrants of old kingdoms get whatever they wanted if not through instilling that primal emotion? Hell, even the old sheriff said that people ran inside their houses at the sight of him, that everyone is a criminal, including yourself.

There was only one problem with this plan. Jimmy was not an intimidating figure, he was short and the damage done to his reputation went too deep. He would not be able to pull off such a feat on his own, something that was frustrating in its own right.

The sound of the door opening and closing again snapped him from his thoughts and he looked up to see someone standing in the room. They wore dark robes trimmed in gold and a black cape was fastened around their shoulders by a ruby clasp. The dim lighting hid most of their facial features from view except for a pair of glowing, crimson eyes which met his own.

“Hello Sheriff.” The stranger said, their voice very familiar underneath the distorted echoes that accompanied it.

“Unless you’re here to apologize, Sausage, you can leave because I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now.”

The stranger laughed, a haunting and malicious sound that did not fit the Protector of Sanctuary at all. They approached where Jimmy sat, stepping into the light of the lantern resting on his desk and revealing their face.

It was the same as that of Sausage, but this stranger wore it completely wrong. His crimson eyes glowed with unearthly power, his grin crooked and sharp as he placed gloved hands on the desk.

"Sausage is...occupied at the moment, Sheriff. I, on the other hand, am here to offer you a proposal.”

“Whatever game it is you’re playing, Sausage, I’m not interested. Now, get out of my office before I have you dragged out of here.”

“Really? I would have thought you’d want the chance to get your revenge on those that wronged you. We are alike in many ways, Sheriff. Both of us, shunned for being weak; both of us wanting the respect and power we deserve but having to take it by force rather than it being given.”

Jimmy barked out a bitter laugh, “That’s rich, coming from you, the beloved Protector of Sanctuary."

The stranger slammed his hands down, a pulsating flicker of scarlet flashing under the fabric covering them and resonating with the dark veins that creeped up his neck. “I am not Sausage! That man has wronged me just as much as he has wronged you! I have power beyond anything you can comprehend, Sheriff. And if you help me, I may just offer some of it to you. Face it, we both know you can’t get your revenge alone. You are mortal, you have no magic, no allies, you barely have armor and weapons to defend yourself with.”

Jimmy recoiled at the outburst, so unlike the man he’d come to know. Sausage was a calm and reserved individual with the streak of mischief every now and again. The only time Sausage would ever raise his voice was when flustered or frustrated and even then it would have a lighthearted undertone. This man’s voice on the other hand was full of genuine hatred.

Still, the offer was a temptation Jimmy couldn’t help but grasp at. The chance to be respected, even if it was through fear, was something he wanted more than anything.

“Alright, I’ll humor you for a moment. What would you ask of me in return for your help?”

“I have power and you have the resources to make both of our desires come to light. I’ll give you the power to prove to them that you demand respect and in turn, you provide me with the means to enact my own revenge. Do we have a deal?”

Jimmy thought about the pros and cons for a brief moment. A part of him was screaming that this stranger was dangerous, but the part of him that lusted to be held in high esteem was louder. The Sheriff extended his hand to clasp that of the one before him.

“Deal.”

Not-Sausage let out a chuckle, “Excellent choice.” he said before his eyes flashed and white-hot pain shot up Jimmy’s arm from the contact, wrenching a cry of agony from The Sheriff’s throat as the sensation made its way through his body and settling within his very blood and bones, a dark power entwining itself within his very soul.

It lasted only a few moments before the pain finally stopped and the grip on his hand was released did Jimmy stand up with a malicious grin and red eyes matching that of his newfound ally.

“When do we start?”