#minecraft fanfic

[brightgoat]

You have alerted the horde.

Minecraft: My World AU - Nether Arc Part 16

[sycopomp]

This was probably inevitable, whoops. Part 12 of the Nether Arc finally got me, I've been eagerly anticipating Eve's return for so long, and it was so GOOD.

So here we have a fanfic of @brightgoat's Minecraft: My World AU.

☆☆☆

“Where are those pinheads?” Veni cast a calculating scowl beyond the walls of their conquered Bastion.

After a beat, Vici ventured, “Was that supposed to be a pun about… arrow heads? Because they’re archers?”

Vidi knit a brow, looking down at one hand. The memory of gold, gilded and gleaming, stirred something else. “The bastion.” Fingers flexing, then clenching into a fist, Vidi narrowed both eyes into a stormy glare. “The witch.”

That’s right. Wirt was supposed to support them while the party moved through the Fortress… and had returned unattended.

“Go grab the whelp,” Veni began to growl, only to cut off with a strangled sound. “Never mind!” Snapping around, Veni jabbed a finger at Vici. “Go find Cap!”

Peering over the edge of the wall, Vidi straightened up sharply.

Their Evoker had returned.

***

Eve’s steps remained measured, unhurried even as she echoed, “A Librarian… here.” Whether the statement was skepticism in the concept or doubt in her coterie, the Captain was irritated either way.

“Yes.” They had laid eyes and hand on the Wandering Trader themselves, so the news of a Villager in the Nether was less of a shock. Not to mention, they’d found and retained the Librarian as well…

though they had no Enchantments to show for it.

You bluff often?

Something began to crawl up Cap’s spine, like black widow legs and black-dyed claws.

After receiving news of Eve’s return, Cap had sent the Vindicators ahead. Firelight flickered on the wall across from the open doorway leading into Wirt’s workspace. It had doubled as the Librarian’s holding cell of late, keeping close to anything one might need to enchant. The closer they drew, the worse the feeling got.

Crossing the threshold, Eve ignored her Vindicators snapping to attention. “… Ha. Haha.” Head tilting, she finally smiled.

Slow, tension bristling along shoulders, Cap turned to stare at the Villager.

“This… is the ‘Librarian’?”

Those words alone were enough to drive home just how badly they had all fucked up. The Vindicators kept their eyes straight ahead, though Vici felt the tell-tale prickle of sweat.

Stepping through the doorway, excitement stirring in her chest, Eve reveled in the panic threatening behind the Villager’s eyes. “Honestly…” Passing the Illagers, she ignored Cap falling into lockstep, though she didn’t miss the rage emanating from behind her. “I can’t tell who the biggest idiot in this room is.”

Ask her on any day and she would say it was the one following her; not because it was true, but because it would sting Captain the most out of them all.

In truth, though, falling for a nitwit’s lie was only the second most foolish thing she could think of.

For a nitwit to try lying at all? Ah, now that was an entirely new breed of stupidity.

She stopped short of where the Villager had backed into a table. The brewing stand bubbled idly, reducing something or other to useful components— more than could be said of the one using it.

“Bring me the witch.” Wirt would have seen through this façade in a heartbeat… which meant there was yet another fool to punish.

Chin jerking toward the doorway, Veni locked eyes with Vidi in silent command. The second Vindicator rose improbably straighter, then stalked out of the room.

Panic mounting, Nil shot a desperate look at the departing Illager. Wirt had no idea Eve was back—!

“I presume you would like to retake some of your dignity, Captain.” Eve didn’t tear her gaze from Nil, squinting with pleasure like a cat. Despite the insult, Cap’s jaw set tight, eyes pinning the Villager in place. “Go on then, nitwit…” Eyes darting between them, Nil shrank back against the table, fingers digging into the woodgrain. “Run.”

***

The nether wart garden didn’t require extensive upkeep or attention, happy as a clam with dark and damp. Still Wirt liked to check in on it, someplace quiet far away from the raiders.

And, to be honest, someplace away from Nil. Spending time with the Villager was leaps and bounds ahead of the Illagers, but… still, there was a sense of guilt that tinted every interaction. Nil was a prisoner, and Wirt was doing nothing whatsoever to change that.

Even after seeing the damage wrought by the raid, Wirt stayed by them. If only by necessity, the Raiders protected their witch. And Wirt needed protecting here.

Collar snagging taut against windpipe, Wirt choked all the way up off the ground. Vidi raised the witch to eye level, which left Wirt’s feet kicking in the air, and glared venomously. “Eve wants to see you…”

Wirt’s gut dropped. Oh.

Oh no.

***

Everyone in that room knew there was nowhere for Nil to run. Still, none of them moved; watching, waiting, patient, knowing.

Knowing that the prey heart of a Villager would never have the nerve to hold out against their natural predators. Still Nil held firm, as long as possible, until the tremors became visible, and the sheer effort to bite down panic was too much.

Nil bolted.

The flag that the Raiders had adorned their so-called Librarian with, flapping out behind, was pierced by a diamond bit and pinned to the wall. It swept Nil’s feet off the ground, and before the flag could be divested, Cap seized both it and the Villager’s signature green tunic in one fist.

Hostility and menace radiated from the captain, and Nil sagged against the wall. Cap ripped the diamond spear from the wall, spinning it one-handed to nudge the tip beneath Nil’s chin.

Eve watched with relish. As much as Cap wouldn’t mind killing the Villager and depriving her of this precious ingredient…

Make a fool of me…

At the moment, more keenly than a distaste for their Evoker—

Cap wanted this Villager to hurt.

She would step in, inevitably, if only to ensure there was no accidents.

Yet when Vidi returned, Nil was left with them.

[kenmakore]

Kenma’s Reposts

In which he likes a classmate but is a wee bit shy and you’re a wee bit curious

This is part 1 of ???

You found his account by accident. An accidental typing-his-name-in-the-search-bar. But you do it to everyone in class so actually it’s nothing weird. You make sure you’re on your burner account so he couldn’t catch on.

His account pops up and he has a few vids posted. Mostly the black haired boy he’s friends with and him dancing.

But his reposts….?

You swear it’s just to get to know him better. What if you have a project together and know nothing about him? What if he likes all the things you like? What if he happend to confess the crush you thought was unrequited for two years…???

The first few are the same.

Volleyball is tiring.

Sports are hard.

Video games. Video games. video games.

Then there’s a cute little video of flowers and text that reads ‘how I see that one girl in class but she’ll never know.’

You raise an eyebrow and think of all the possible girls in your class and cross your fingers. The girl who always has an energy drink? The girl with pink hair? The girl who always falls asleep? No…. Well?

You scroll more trying to piece the story together.

Another one. This one was a guy dancing and caption reading ‘when that one girl who smells like heaven with grandma ahh hobbies smiles at me so I giggle and kick my feet’.

I guess he could have figured out I cross-stitched and baked from our mutual friends but still, there were contenders.

The next one was a daydreamy video of cute couples activity and the note he leaves in the repost says ‘me with the girl Kuroo teases me about.’

‘I’ll have to lock in when he’s around I guess. Eavesdropping it is.’

More video games, sports, and memes.

Then a kitty lay in the snow and ‘dreaming bout that brunette in class. One day…’ you open the comments and he tagged his friend who responded saying ‘you always happening to sit next to her but never even saying hello is crazy bro.’

That leaves only one. You.

Well. well. well. How things have played out accordingly is beyond your dreams.

You giddily scroll through the rest of his reposts as you take in all the little compliments.

‘When she’s close enough for me to kiss but I’m shy af so I smile and nod’

‘That girl that’s actually an angel’

‘Waiting to be paired up with her in class so I can do all the work and let my bbg rest’

One after another after another.

You sleep very well that night.

——————————————————————————

You wait a few weeks just to pick up on some of his hints that would prove it.

And when you look closely, you’re amazed at how bad you were at noticing.

The way he’s always giving glances or giggling quietly with who you think is Kuroo as you walk by.

You wait for the perfect moments and it falls right into your lap.

Some stupid science project in physics where you get paired up with him at long last. It’s just a simple questions paper you have to fill out.

“Hey, we’ve never really been paired up before. So, do you understand what the questions are?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You can relax.” He says quietly as he goes to scribbles down all the answers.

You smile “thank you very much.”

“Ugh yeah, no worries.” If you hadn’t known his about his feelings you would’ve thought his dismissive, but since you knew you spotted the blush crawling up his neck in an instant.

This went on for a few more weeks of you lightly teasing him, him not noticing thinking it’s all in his head, so on and so forth.

Until one day at recess you sit across from him playing on his switch. You sit down next to him and offer a bit of candy if he let you play Minecraft for a few minutes on it. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You surprise me.” He says extra quietly but you pick up on it.

“What do you mean?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“I could’ve sworn you said I surprised you.”

“No I said this game drains me.”

“Minecraft?”

“…”

You sigh, deciding now may as well be the time.

“I know that you like me. It’s ok I like you too. For quite some time now actually.”

He freezes.

“You’re cute. And funny. And I like you so ask me to be your girlfriend before I change my mind.”

“How did… his did you know?”

“You’re reposts.”

…“you’re the account that viewed my profile like six million times?”

…

“maybe…So like are you gonna ask or…?”

His cheeks are entirely red now and he lets out a huff.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

You ask surprised. “Me?” You smile. “Yes I like that, I think we would be a cute couple.”

He spends the rest of recess building a garden for you.

“Cause I don’t have real flowers for you.”

[we-are-the-multitude]

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

A fic by me that's not TSAMS related?? It can be done!

This is my tragic yaoi, dead-body-possession, revenge fic for the Minecraft ARG "Searching For a World That Doesn't Exist" inspired by the song Gravity.

I wrote this while sick, so it probably reads exactly how it sounds.

[fandom-gremlin]

this fanfic shit is easy

[venice-1987]

The Ghast Hunter

I met the Ghast hunter beside a village that had been built in the tundra. A tall mountain cut through the horizon, forcing the eye upwards and into the clouds, and at its base was his humble hut, and ancient ruined portal -now repaired- located a stone’s throw away. He invited me inside for a drink, and I got a glimpse of his home. A loft bed, and the necessities, and an open chest filled to the brim with Ghast tears, displayed like a trophy right as you entered the front door. 

“I need an escort through the Nether,” I said. At the time, I had big dreams about reaching the End, but enough good sense to ask for help getting there. At the time, I would have called it cowardice, if I had the stones to confront the strange feeling in my chest. He agreed, as long as he got a share of the spoils if we came across any treasure. 

“I don’t need much. Just enough to trade with the locals for food,” he said. “And every ghast tear is mine. That is non-negotiable”

I thought it strange, but chaulked it more up to egotistical possessiveness. He needed to grow his trophy chest int he center of his home, wanted credit for each ghast killed. 

It was no trouble to me. There was more glory in killing the other beasts in the Nether, and more treasure would go into my pockets. I agreed, and he got up from his chair. I startled at the idea of leaving right at that moment, but in my over-eager youth, I followed.

We did not manage to find a fortress in the remainder of the day. Although time seems to work differently in the hell dimension, our fatigue did not and our weariness told us when it was wise to return to the overworld. But the Ghast hunter lived up to his name, slaughtering the tearful ghost-like creatures with ease and without discrimination. 

“I feel sorry for them,” I mentioned on our journey back. We were on an ashy cliffside, bones scattered in the nooks of the cavern. “They look so sad.” I had never seen a ghast at that point, only read about them. Their shrieks pierced my eardrums, and their wailing cut deep into my own heart. 

“There is not much left to feel sorry for. They’re creatures twisted by this hell,” the hunter said. “They know nothing but anger. There is no other way to save them than by putting them out of their misery.” 

He said so bitterly, and I took his disgust to be directed at the creatures themselves. It would make sense. These creatures attacked without provocation, defending only fire and the sulfurous fumes burned out from the lava below. What else could they be, save for beings of evil. 

But the hunter stopped by a pile of bones I had thought to be unspectacular, only useful as a landmark to find our way back. But the hunter knelt down by one rib, and chiseled away a rock at its base, and resumed towards our portal without any explanation. Perhaps he thought it another bit of treasure to plunder. 

It wasn’t until we were safe in the overworld, the moon peaking out from behind the mountainside, that I saw the stone had a face. Perhaps I had a visible horror in my expression, or confusion, because the hunter pressed his lips into a thin line, and told me to follow him. Along the way, he cradled the stone as if it were an infant. 

He led me to the base of the mountain, where a tunnel had been carved through the rocks. I had not noticed it before, as it laid directly behind the hunter’s home. We travelled through, and despite my own adventures at that point, the darkness still frightened me. No monsters accosted us, and we finally reached the other side, where a small, brightly lit room welcomed us. To either side, a fountain with more of those strange stones perched underneath the water on pedestals. The hunter placed the one in his hands on an empty space, unbothered by how his now wet hands would chill easier in the cold. 

“This one’s about ready,” he said, pointing towards the stone to the right of the one he had just placed. Somehow, it looked softer, larger, like a sponge that had soaked in some water. More questions filled my mind. I had thought these things to be perhaps ritual statues, collected and placed under water as a strange form of worship. I had read about more unusual things in this world. 

But the stone started to wiggle forward, as if being pushed by the water. The stream parted as it emerged, its face in a wide, content smile. And I realized, it was a ghast!

“I thought you hunted these. You said that they’re not worth saving,” I exclaimed. 

“I didn’t say they weren’t worth saving. I said they could not be saved. And I wasn’t lying to you. The ones we fight in there, the ones whose anger is all they’ve known, they cannot be saved. But they deserve to be saved, in the only way they can be. In rest, they can find peace,” the hunter explained. The little ghast chirped, finding its way into the hunter’s outstretched arms. He smiled gently, the edges of his eyes crinkling with crow’s feet. “But these guys are new enough that they are still learning. If you catch them in the middle of their lesson in suffering, you could teach them comfort and love instead. Before its too late.” He spoke then to the ghast. “Lets get you to the others” 

He stepped through the doors opposite where we entered, leading to the valley on the other side of the mountain. I stepped through as well, gasping at the view. A forest of cherry blossoms littered the lowest points of the Earth, and wildflowers grew between the trunks and pathways. A few bees bumbled between them, drunk on pollen and tired in the late night. And high up, near the peaks and clouds, were dozens of ghasts, all smiling, floating lazily amongst each other. Like the tiny ghast, they looked content and peaceful. 

“Perhaps ghast hunter is a bit of a misnomer,” the hunter laughed. “I do hunt ghasts, but I provide them sanctuary too.” 

“But, what about the tears?” I asked. “Don’t you collect them as trophies.” 

“Oh, no. The ghastlings can be born from the tears,” the hunter said. “I also like to pay respects, for the ghasts that suffered, and are still suffering. They might not know that they were ever loved in life, but they are now.”

The hunter took a long breath, and continued. “I hope to reintroduce the ghast to their natural environment over time,” he said. “Dwindle the population in the Nether. Return everything to how it should be.”

“Its a noble goal,” I finally said. I understood, now. 

“And near impossible,” he said. “But I need to try.” 

[mysillylecturn]

(Short Minecraft fanfic okay bye!)

Title: Please, don't be afraid.

AO3 version here.

Wordcount: 925 Words.

After pleading with the legend himself, Herobrine, the player gets to see his old form. Will they regret this decision?

"Ew!" Says the player, grimacing at something in their photo album.

"Found a dead bug?" Herobrine jokes.

"No, I'd scream if that were the case." The player answers.

Flipping the book around, Herobrine can see what made the player react that way.

It's an old photograph, a younger version of the player can be seen, smiling with not all their teeth grown in.

"I can definitely say I look better these days." The player sighs.

Herobrine stares at the photo, then to the player, and then back to the photo. He lets out a quick snort.

This gets the player to glare at him. "Don't have to rub it in on how weird I looked back then."

Herobrine holds his hand up defensively, trying and failing to hold back a few chuckles. "No, no, you've got it wrong. If anyone looked weird when they were younger, that would be me."

The player stares, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, Hero, how bad did you look?"

Herobrine shrugs, leaning back against the couch and shutting his eyes. "Not sure. I don't have any photos of how I looked back then. Frankly, I'd like to keep it that way."

The next thing he utters he will instantly regret. "I wonder if I could still morph back into that form?"

He opens his eyes, feeling the players gaze on him. Their eyes are wide, beaming.

"Can you show me? What you looked like before?" They ask, scooting closer, grinning.

Herobrine feels his stomach tie into a knot. He pulls at his shirt collar, glancing away.

"Well...you wouldn't want to. I was pretty fucking ugly."

The player nudges him with their elbow. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Please, can you show me?"

Herobrine knew that if he kept rejecting, the more the player would persist. With a tired sigh, he gets up from the couch.

"Fine. We're going to a cave. I don't want to break anything in your home with how large my old form was."

The player whoops, hopping off the couch and grabbing Herobrine’s hand with intent to drag him outside. He doesn't budge, and this nearly causes the player fall over their feet.

A quick curse at him and readjusting their stance, off the two went.

Once inside the nearby cave, the pair walk deeper into the darkness. The only light source being Herobrine’s glowing eyes.

They pass by flowing water, bats screeching, and monsters hesitating to make an attack on the player.

Herobrine eventually slows to a halt. "Alright. We can stop here." He announces.

The two are inside a large empty part of the cave, ceilings stretched high. Nothing else is in there besides them.

The player couldn't stop grinning. "This is going to be so cool!"

"Yeah. Cool." Herobrine mutters, unenthusiastic.

He motions for the player to stay where they are before walking deeper into the shadows.

The player bounces in place, continuing to grin. They can't believe they're about to see what Herobrine looked like all those ages ago.

The stretching and breaking of flesh gets the player to stop smiling.

The tearing noise increases in frequency until stopping suddenly. The cave becomes quiet.

A familiar white glow shines above the player. Figuring that Herobrine is simply floating, their smile returns nervously.

“Alright, you can come out now.”

The eyes remain fixated on the player as a pair of feet step forward. Then two. Then three? That sounded like too many legs moving.

“Hero?” The player asks, reaching around for their torch and lighting it.

In a moment, whatever was in the dark is finally revealed by the torches dim glow. Coal dark flesh is wrapped around the six-legged creature. Her neck cranes down, cracking slightly from moving. Her eyes trained on the player.

“Are you..afraid?” She asks, her voice strained and hoarse.

The player can only stare.

Her eyes squint. “Do you..fear me? Hate..me?”

The player continues to stare.

All that time together. Wasted. She was going to lose you. And who could blame her? She looked horrifying.

A rattled sigh leaves White Eyes. “It’s okay...you can..run.”

The player blinks, as if leaving a trance, and they frown. “Why would I..Hero, I wouldn’t just…”

They stop speaking. Carefully crouching down and setting the torch down, the player takes a small step towards White Eyes.

“You look really cool.” They whisper, a twinkle of awe in their eyes.

White Eyes blinks. Her eyes squint again. “This is..not how I..should look.”

She becomes still as the player reaches up, their hands brushing against her face. Her face feels cold and hard, much like stone.

“I still think you look great. Both forms are pretty cool.” The player states, grinning.

That smile. It could stop every thought running in her mind. It always did.

Slowly, the player steps forward with their arms outstretched. They carefully wrap their arms around White Eyes long neck.

“I’m not afraid of you. I think we’re both well past that fear. You’ll always be my friend, no matter how you look. And, I want you to be comfortable in your skin that I’ve seen plenty of times already...that is ‘your’ skin, right?”

That gets White Eyes to laugh. “Yes...mine...somewhat. Borrowed from...long ago.”

Her vision blurs. She squeezes her eyes shut as wet drips down her cheeks. Tears.

When was the last time she cried? She can’t remember.

And here she was. Standing, crying, and wanting to hug you back. Carefully, she reaches out one arm, curling it around your back.

“Thank you for...not abandoning me.” She says softly.

[inkycapps]

Acquisition & Inquisition

2.2k words

Herobrine x gnreader(There'll be separate writings for scenes that require a gender and third scene for my nb readers:))

(Reader is old-old guys, and currently has a semi-healed sprained ankle)

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated

Masterlist

Next chapter

I missed Jerome, my ‘pet’ cannibalistic daisy cow. She was a little too invested and interested when I ate any type of beef near her. A flash of yellow flickered in the corner of my eye, and I tensed. Snapping my head towards it told me it was a sand axolotl. I pulled out an empty bucket, and I put a piece of fish in there, cooing, “Hey lil guy, why don’t cha come ‘ere?

"I’ve got nobodyyyy." Reading more was a thought that came every time I hummed. My feet ached, and soreness stabbed my back. I had a thin blindfold over my eyes to keep a bit of comfort. Sandstorms were too common not to worry about. I’d been walking in a desert biome for a couple of days; someone had tipped me off that people were searching for me. I wasn’t stupid; I knew exactly what they were looking for…..okay, maybe I didn’t, but that didn’t stop me from packing everything up and burning down my hut.

The axolotl sniffed the air before tentatively crawling to the food. It went into the bucket and began munching on the fish. I pressed my lips tightly, trying so hard not to breathe loudly. I tilted the bucket up, and the axolotl slid down. It had finished the small bit of fish and was just lying on its stomach now, content to stay there. 

A high-pitched squeal echoed in my head as I reached my fingers in and stroked their back; they were so cute, and my heart was pounding. They turned over on their back, and it was all I could do to keep standing; my face was burning, partly from the sun, partly from overheating.

I started tickling their belly, and their legs began to wave around in quiet giggles. Scratching their chin rewarded me with a throaty purr, their limbs stretching in contentment.

A dry branch broke behind me, and I turned around, still cooing at the axolotl, whom I had now named Charlie. A tall man in a faded, dark red shirt was trailing behind me, trying to stay inconspicuous with his head bowed low. He froze and looked up. I muttered a “Shrink,” and the bucket shrank, Charlie, growing smaller with it. I held the bucket out and dropped it, letting it dissipate mid-fall. The man held his hands out, showing his weapons-free grip, “I come in peace,” he called out. I didn’t trust him, and I will defend that I was right with my life.

 My legs were pumping as my lungs worked overtime to supply air to my muscles. The surprise of running gave me distance initially, but with my shot ankles, I couldn’t run forever. I heard footsteps behind and made a choice; he didn’t need to know my limitations. Hope flickered before my ankle twisted, again, and the man tackled me; the timing was horrendous. I could fight back, but even if I won it, I wouldn’t be able to run any further.

I flipped over and kicked him in the stomach. A strained keening came out of him, and he fell on his butt. My blindfold was resting under my chin now, and I blew my hair out of my face, muttering, “Bastard.” He flipped his finger at me, the audacity, and asked, “What was that?” ‘Bastard.” I reiterated. He rolled his eyes, “Not my fault you decided to run.” My jaw dropped, “What do you mean it isn’t your fault?!” My voice rose, “IT LITERALLY IS YOUR FAULT! Why were you following me?”

“I want your help,” He started, “And knowledge of the world benefits us.” As if that explained everything and justified tackling me to the floor. I pulled up one leg and took a knee, Aether, my ankle hurt so badly. “Who is this ‘us’?”

He gave his hand to me, but I ignored it, choosing instead to be stubborn and push myself up. I gave him a pointed look, and he relented, sighing, “My boss and his men.” I said, “So your boss is a dude….doesn’t help me actually.” Trying to connect some random dots. As much as the stranger told me, they didn’t know who was after me. The man grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back, “You know you can just ask, right?” he said, pulling out some rope and beginning to tie my hands together.

I didn’t bother resisting and asked him straight up, “Who’s your boss?” 

“He’s a powerful man,” Conner answered with a cheeky tone. I groaned, “Oh, great, twenty questions.” “You didn’t really think I’d tell you straight?” He mocked, tightening the knots. I started to respond, but he cut me off, the bastard, “Of course not, I’m curious.”

That stopped me, “About what?” Conner grabbed my elbow and pulled me forward, forcing me to walk, “You, I’ve heard some interesting things about your supposed existence,” He explained.

I was so confused, “Well, I’m here, and you even tackled me, so I think my existence is no longer supposed.” I said, a bite evident in my tone. “Fancy that, now, you ask a question, I ask a question, seems fair?” Conner compromised.

 “I don’t like you,” I informed. He replied, “You never have love,” ‘So we know each other.’ “Now onward, we’ll talk as we walk.”

.

.

.

A few seconds passed in awkward silence before he broke it and said, “My name's Conner, just for future reference.” Like I didn’t already know that. “Where did he spawn?” I asked, but Conner shook his head and said, “Nope, too specific.” I rolled my eyes and asked another question, “Do you have one boss or multiple?”

Conner debated in his head for a couple seconds before relenting and answering, “One with strong allies.” I groaned silently, “You’re really unhelpful.”

Conner grinned with a smug look in his eyes and mocked, “Aw, shucks, where did you spawn?”

“The Overworld, can he see?” I shot back, not ready to face it, “As far as I know, can you?” He answered. I said, “Yes, what are his ideals?”

The conversation picked up as we fired off questions faster and faster, like it was a were a competition. “No clue, something about forcing the acknowledgment of past wrongdoings. How old…are you?” Conner explained, slowing down towards the end of the remark.

I paused, my mind blanking, and answered, “Not sure, why do you follow him then?”

Conner stayed silent and stopped moving. He hesitated before responding, “I don’t remember.” He gained a far-off gaze, looking past and through me before shaking out of it and continuing with a lighter tone, “Who was there when you spawned?” I squinted my eyes and defiantly said, “No.”

Conner tightened the corners of his mouth and said, “Don’t shut down on me, were you around the ancient builders?”

My eyebrows rose as I drew out, “Woowwww,” A barely contained smile on my face, “Calling me ancient now?” Conner smacked the back of my head and said, “Shut up!” with an exasperated look on his face. “Yeah, nice people, lack common sense sometimes.” I replied, Conner's eyes darted over, and hummed, “Oh?”

“Does he have a main base?” I asked, forcing the conversation to trudge on despite Conner’s hesitance, “…Yes, why did the builders disappear?” I continued, “They didn’t, how big is the army?”

“Pretty big, I haven’t seen the full extent,” Conner admitted, “Where are they now, then?” “Everywhere, are they undead? I pressed.

A rabbit hopped by. Conner watched it, “The boss or the army?” and it jumped near a cactus, not far enough outside its spinal range. “The army, dipshit.” I clarified.

“Most of them are, where are the builders?” The rabbit took severe damage before collapsing and dying, leaving behind some rabbit hide and meat.

“Majority’s in the Nether. Where did you spawn?”

“In the Snowy Taiga biome,” Conner grinned and donned a knowing look, “They’re the mobs, aren’t they?” “Yeah,” I agreed. Silence filled the gap between them, excuse for the sound of sand shifting and rolling over. “What’s your dominant hand?” I spoke up. Conner looked over and replied, “Left, you ever meet Herobrine?

I looked up to the sky and thought about it for a second. “Which one is he?” Conner’s face dropped as he explained, “You know Steve?” He asked, “ He’s a spitting image of him with slightly darker skin, a more prominent beard, and pure white eyes.” Recognition flickered in my head, “....Yeah,” I let out, my voice strangled, “I know of him.” 

“Ohh…kayyy.”

 I restarted the conversation and asked, “How good are you with your right hand?”

“Fairly decent, I can’t write with it though. How much do you know about myths?” 

“Not many. What’s the opposing side’s ideals?”

“Not a clue, I never did stay long enough to know. What myths do you know?” 

“Giant Alex, I’ve figured out where she came from, but I haven’t actually seen her, so she’s still a myth to me,” I replied, a smile on my face. She was so nice to me, a bit violent, but nice. “Who’s Giant Alex?” Conner asked before I said, “Ah ah ahhhh, my turn.” with a snap in my tone. 

Conner mockingly bowed and teased, “Right, of course, my liege, do grace me with your forgiveness.”

“Suck up.” I accused. Conner's spine straightened immediately. “Shut up.” He complained. “That ain’t no way to speak to your liege, is it?” I demanded, my voice taking on a haughty and pretentious tone.

Conner rolled his eyes and muttered, “I hate you.”

I gasped dramatically, ‘full circle, I guess’ “Oh, the betrayal, favorite weapon?” I tried to yank my hands forward to clasp my chest before the rope tightened from the tug, ‘Oh yeah,’ “What’s your preferred weapon?”

Conner stroked his face and replied, “I like axes, they’re heavy and sharp and just good for aggression.” I can’t believe I wasted a question on that, “I guess, she’s like Alex but giant with angry, red, strained eyes with black sclera?” I explained, my voice rising towards the end. Conner’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I caught Conner’s look and explained, “It’s the white part of your eyes.” “Ohhhhh,” Conner said, understanding falling on his face.

“Who’s your favorite glitch?” I redirected. Conner’s face scrunched up, like he was trying to rub his nonexistent brain cells to spark a memory, “Isn’t there one called Jeb?” I blinked twice and asked, “...the nametag?”

I heard whirring in the distance and looked forward, spotting an obsidian portal frame on the horizon. Two people were flanking on each side, wearing solid pants and a dark chestplate, a hooded robe on their backs, with swords and shields in their hands. Guards, I suppose. One of them saw Conner and me walking towards them and pulled out three items from the depths of their robes. They turned to the portal, placed flint on the obsidian, and started smacking two hefty pebbles in hopes of sparking a flame.

“Nooo,” Conner said slowly, “ It’s a random strand of code connected to the nametag.”

I shook my head, responding hesitantly, “It’s really not…”

“So you’re telling me that there isn’t a person named Jeb?” Conner asked skeptically. He stopped for a second; I guess he saw the look on my face. My head tilted from side to side before I admitted, “I mean…he was a sheep, but I guess?” Conner stared at me while he asked, “You mean to tell me, the nametag Jeb, known to rainbowify sheep, came from a sheep named Jeb?”

A spark caught the flint shavings and started a small smoky fire.

I leaned my head and challenged, “ Is that judgment I hear?”

“No, no, I would never.” Conner widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Right,” I said, doubt and amusement filling my voice. 

The small fire caught on some obsidian dust and lit the portal. It was a bright, deep purple; ribbons of pink energy were wrapping around the frame. I looked at it and sighed, resigning to my fate. Conner looked in the same direction, “Well, that was kind of informative,” he offered. I pursed my lips and hummed, “Hm, the Nether?”

Conner gave a small smile, “Figured it out yet?” he asked as he let go of my arms. I scoffed and laughed in my throat, “Brother, I knew the moment you answered about his ideals.” The guards stepped back and went through the portal. They began to fade as the portal swirled louder and louder until they finally disappeared.

I took a few steps forward, and Conner yelled, “WHY’D YOU CONTINUE THEN?!” his voice pitched higher. “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHARDS!” I yelled back. Conner stopped and stuttered, “Hu-what?”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Bastard.” Connered grumbled exasperatedly and shook his head. 

I stepped up into the portal, and it started vibrating and humming louder. The shimmering ribbons slowly made their way towards me. They began to wrap around my limbs and torso, the sand below Conner’s feet trembling and bending to the whims of the vibration and bouncing into small groups. The ribbons were glowing brighter, the portal near deafening, and I answered quietly, “Nobody was there.”

Conner’s head snapped up, “WHAT?” He hollered, deaf to what I said, but I was already gone, a small thud sounding after me. Conner rustled his head, shaking out the sand and letting it fall. The wind had softened, not as loud, and it carried the sand to the small piles. He muttered, “Bitch.” The corners of his lips curled up in a minuscule smile.

@apollosturtle @flow33didontsmoke @meg-mur06