title: quietly rewrite them (masterlist)
author: theancientcitylibrary
rating: teen and up audiences
warnings: no archive warnings apply
category: multi; gen
word count: ongoing
fandom: empires smp
relationship(s): solidaritygaming | jimmy & smallishbeans | joel & pixlriffs | pixl & ldshadowlady | lizzie & katherine kg | katherine, smallishbeans | joel/ldshadowlady | lizzie, implied solidaritygaming | jimmy/dangthatsalongname | scott, implied katherine kg | katherine/shubbleyt | shrub, implied fwhip | fwhip/pixlriffs | pixl
characters: smallishbeans | joel, ldshadowlady | lizzie, solidaritygaming | jimmy, pixlriffs | pixl, katherine kg | katherine, dangthatsalongname | scott, shubbleyt | shrub berry, joeygraceffagames | joey, mythicalsausage | sausage, geminitay | gem, fwhip | fwhip, pearlescentmoon | pearl, xornoth (esmp)
additional tags: au – canon divergence, mind control, brainwashing, implied/referenced torture, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor injuries, referenced minor character death, mild language, panic attacks, vomiting (warned when appearing), other tags that are descriptors,
summary: With their empires invaded, and their friends lost under Xornoth's sinister command, the Cod Alliance has to come together to fight a battle they can't afford to lose. But the failures of those who tried before them overshadow their efforts, and raises the question of if they can even succeed where the others once failed? And with the encroaching corruption threatening to swallow them, they face not just Xornoth and his seemingly unending power, but the fear of losing themselves—and all their friends—to the darkness. Especially as they learn that the dangers lurking in the darkness are only one half of the fight, and that they're not just fighting the corruption but destiny itself.
series: destiny averted
link to full story: "we're going to have to leave soon."
link to individual chapters:
one || two || three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten
i love the empires musical but i cannot listen to xornoth’s voice in it. just get scott to sing with a voice changer or whoever voiced xornoth at the end of scott’s series PLEASE
title: a bad feeling (i’m a little unwell)
author: theancientcitylibrary
rating: teen and up audiences
warnings: creator chose not to use archive warnings
category: gen
word count: 1.802k
fandom: empires smp
relationship(s): n/a
characters: pixlriffs | pix, xornoth (esmp)
additional tags: au – stargate fusion, amnesia, canon-typical violence, implied/referenced character death, choking, reincarnation, what’s the tag for: ‘you reincarnate and I hate you for not being the person I want you to be’, additional warnings in notes
summary: “I’m doing this because I care about you.” The words are spoken softly, but he doesn’t understand them—he doesn’t know this person, he doesn’t know what they’re doing, he doesn’t know who he is— || or: a man wakes up besides a stranger in a desert, the sky alit with two moons, and a strange feeling in his gut.
series: stargate esmp || februwhump 2024
link to ao3
“I’m doing this because I care about you.” The words are spoken softly, but he doesn’t understand them—he doesn’t know this person, he doesn’t know what they’re doing, he doesn’t know who he is—
“What?” His own words are dry as they’re spoken, lips cracked as they part to let sound out. His eyes squint, head looking up to try and get a better look at the person in front of him, but the person moves away, a little laugh following them.
“No, no, you don’t have to understand,” The person says, the words coming from behind him now. He jumps and tries to turn his upper body, stopped by the pressure of a hand on the back of his neck. “See that’s part of what I’m doing – I’m teaching you.”
He flinches at the touch. “I don’t—I don’t understand.” The words taste like ash on his tongue, he wishes he could take them back – admitting weakness in front of this person gives him a slimy feeling in his gut. “I—I—who are you?”
“Me?” The voice laughs, cutting themselves off after a second, “Oh, that’s a question, one you have no right to ask.”
The pressure grows on his neck. He tries to pull away but the person yanks him back, pressing him up against their legs. “What-”
“Shut up.” The person squeezes his neck. “See I’m doing this because I care about you but if you keep being a nuisance, it makes it hard to keep caring.”
He jerks his head, the motion causing the person’s nails to cut into his neck a bit. He wants to groan, to pull himself far away from this pain inducing person, but their grip is strong, far too strong for him to get away without causing more injuries.
The person loosens their grip, moving their hand to stroke at his hair. “See I always liked you better like this; people are always so much more demure when they’re left without memories – when they have to rely on the kindness of strangers to help them.”
The words bring a twinge of understanding – nothing he can do much with as the rest is just gibberish, but he says nothing, doesn’t even allow himself to flinch away from the gentle touches.
As much as he wants to.
“It’s okay.” The person moves, dropping to their knees in front of him, letting them come face to face. “See, like I said, I care about you, I’m not going to hurt you.”
You already have, sits pretty on his tongue. This person is not the sort that seems like they’d take well to his words though, so he says nothing, only nods another jerky movement.
“So much better this way,” The person croons before shaking their head, “But no, it’ll disappoint the others if you stay like this – I’m sure Katherine will find a way to blame me but this isn’t my fault so I’m going to fix you before they can show up.”
He doesn’t know Katherine or why she’d blame this person, but whoever she is, he agrees with her. He blames this person too, even with them claiming their innocence, he feels like they’re lying.
“Oh Pixl, even without your memories, you’re still a open fucking book to me,” The person spits, bits of saliva hitting him in the face. He lifts a hand to wipe at his face, the person glaring as he does so. “Of course you blame me for this—you’d blame me if the rain happened to fall on a day you wanted sunny. I’m your scapegoat.”
While he doesn’t know himself – the name Pixl wiggles at something in his brain – he can’t help but think that sounds fake. And he says as much. “No I don’t.”
The person’s lips smash together. “Defiant still, aren’t we?” The words don’t sound like they really want an answer, and before Pixl – is that really his name? - can decide to speak again, the person is speaking, “See that’s the annoying part about you. You’re so stubborn that you can’t see the forest for the trees.”
He squirms. The look the person is giving him makes him feel raw – overexposed with nowhere to go. That part about him sounds true; it sounds like it fits with the thoughts going a million miles a minute in his head and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the idea of anything this person saying being correct about him. He forces himself to shake his head, he knows he’s lying, but it’s all he can do.
“Oh come on, Pixl, let’s not lie to each other – you know I’m right.” The person snarls, a smirk growing on their face, “You’re so stubborn and hard headed that you put your friends in danger. That’s why we’re in the mess, why you have no memories, and I, the scapegoat of you and your friends, have to save you. It’s your fault.”
The words echo.
“No.” He shuts them up. He doesn’t know if that’s true or not, sickness is pooling in his stomach and his mind is a whirlwind, but he doesn’t want to let this person continue on. “I may be stubborn but this isn’t my fault.”
The other gives a bark of laughter, the noise sharp in the dead of the air, “Of course it’s not.” The smirk grows, a condescending look. “It’s never your fault. How could it be your fault?” The look falls, a shadow crossing over their face. “It’s always Xornoth’s fault – let the others fall at your feet to make you feel better about yourself; let them comfort you in your problems and let everyone else fall wayside!”
Pixl moves back.
Xornoth…
That name means something to him. It connects to something in his mind, he just doesn’t know what. There’s just a missing piece – or multiple missing pieces from his mind, if this person is to be believed – and he wants nothing more than to find it. He knows, feels it deep in his heart, that that one piece will solve what’s wrong with him.
“No one-”
“Everyone comforts you.” Xornoth moves at lightning speed, stopping only inches away from Pixl’s face. “Everyone does what you want – everyone trips all over themselves to make sure that you aren’t in trouble because the Ancients forbid that you experience an ounce of trouble in your life!”
Again, there’s a bit of truth in there that makes Pixl squirm. He doesn’t like it, so he shakes his head, willing this Xornoth to leave him to his memory-less existence. He rather he struggle with trying to fix this by himself then have to deal with this person for even a second longer.
“You’re so full of yourself, Copper King – a relic of a destroyed planet; of a race that reached too close to the sun, falling to pieces as it burnt their wax wings away,” Xornoth—a headache pounds—snarls again, the sound echoing in Pixl’s ears. “And you took my brother and friends with you.”
The sickness grew.
He backs away again, an inch that he wishes was larger. Something about what he was saying sounded too close to something else in Pixl’s brain and he wants to just -
“They came with me willingly!” The words wrench themselves from somewhere. He has no memories to corroborate any of the words he’s speaking, but he’s sure of them. They feel correct. Just like - “You’re still blaming me for things that aren’t my fault! When are you going to start taking responsibility for your own actions? I’m tired of being the bad guy in your story—especially one that I don’t remember.”
Xornoth lips curl.
Darkness smokes over his already dark eyes.
The fear that should be sitting in his stomach again is gone. Indignation sits instead, taking over all bits of common sense that he should have. He’s sure that this is an argument he’s had before, the words are too familiar a shape in his mouth; they feel like he repeats them and repeats them, them falling onto deaf ears.
“I am -”
“Constantly blaming me for things that aren’t my fault?” Pixl cuts the other off, ignoring the look that flashes across his face. “I don’t know what I did to you – either in this life or a past one or whatever – all I know is that I have no memories and you are the only person around for however far there is until we hit civilization, so either you are the person who put me in this problem or you are going to help me. Pick one.”
His breathing is heavy as he finishes speaking, his chest all but heaving. He doesn’t know where these words come from - doesn’t know where all this bravery comes from, but he’s tired of listening to this man speak so badly about him. He hates the words the other says: the ones that don’t feel correct at all, and the ones that burn a little too close to his skin for comfort.
He just wants to find out who he is, not listen to someone gossip about all the bad points about him.
Xornoth lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh, Pixl…” The words die off, the sound of the last syllable in his name being held out as the other tilts his head slightly, “Well, I did say at the start of this, I’m doing this because I care about you.”
Pixl opens his mouth to ask what he means when-
One second Xornoth is in front of him, an arms width away, and then-
SNAP
Nose presses against his own. The weight of another is on top of him. Xornoth’s hands are against his neck again, this time pressing on the front bit. The other’s dark eyes are wide in a manic look; heavy and full of hatred – and something else – as they meet Pixl’s own. Heavy breath brushes against his face, wet droplets falling on his cheek once again.
Pixl struggles, trying to force the other off and away from him, but Xornoth is stronger, larger in size and obviously not mentally well. His nails scratches against skin, but it does nothing; there’s no sign from Xornoth that he even feels it.
There’s no challenge.
Pixl can feel the darkness seeping in, his breath stolen from him under the darkening desert sky.
“Oh don’t worry.” The words are pressed against his ears, Xornoth’s cheek coming to rest against his own. The skin was warm, flushed against Pixl’s own cold one, “You’ll wake up and be right as rain.”
The darkness was overwhelming. The effort to force any sort of air into his body a failure.
“Remember, I’m doing all this because I care about you, Pixl, I want the best for you."
