C!Couri angst for the 8k war🔥🔥🔥🔥
1019 words
Poundy, Nerdi, Oliver, Mime -> all mentioned, Fein haunts the narrative like always
Couri’s nest is a thing that he doesn't look at.
It’s something that lives in his mind; the door to his room kept shut, dust accumulating on its handle.
He sleeps on his couch, if he's even home.
The choice of a small shelter on whatever seed he ended his stream in becomes an ever more common occurrence. Its not something conscious. Not a choice he made one day and stuck to. But slowly, the thought of seeing the nest made his stomach curl.
It's only when he died four times in one seed, and almost starts crying from exhaustion, does he even realize he's avoiding it. He tells himself dying's to check more bastions, tells his chat he's just tired- it's not a lie- and when he ends the stream later, he's thankful Mime wasn't watching.
Maybe someone else in hbg would text him, something he could reply to as someone normal, but Mime would just send a request to join his world. The thought made him laugh, imagining Mime dragging him to his homeworld and asking why there's no food in the fridge. Furrowing his eyebrows at the growing pile of cloth gifts that hbg gives him not folded carefully into his nest. He’d open the bedroom door and-
He lays on a white bed in a cramped hole under spawn. He feels exposed without plush walls surrounding him, without an arm laid over him. The thought makes his wings twitch- not protecting another body, not brushing against scales- and the instinctual ruffle and shake that follows has dull-golden feathers floating throughout the room. It's fine. He thinks.
Laying on his stomach on a stiff scratchy bed that was spare from his onecycle has him thinking about his nest. Has him thinking about the string that made this bed. Thinking about walking in a bastion and getting a scrap of white-and-pink cloth from a trade. Dreaming about walking into his room and being met with blackstone walls. Dreaming about digging into a room with a divot in the floor full of clothes and trinkets and Feinberg sitting there- turning to face him- and he has feline ears instead of fins, and soft clawed hands holding his communicator- and his stupid face lights up with a smile that makes Couri sick.
Or, maybe being sick is shooting up in bed and knocking his head against the dirt ceiling. Curling over the side of the bed and dry-heaving as thoughts of red on black fade from his mind's eye.
And, okay, yeah, it's 1 am, and he last checked the clock at 12:30, and his back hurts, and his legs hurt- yeah. Everything hurts. And he's tired but the sleep he's getting out of his nest is getting worse each night.
The decision is obvious, especially to his sleep deprived brain that cares more about sleep than avoiding the nest. Sleeping in beds is only for occasionally passing the night.
He pulls out his communicator- unwittingly skimming his notifications for a blue and pink profile and a name that's burned into his mind- And teleports to his homeworld.
He wishes he was back in the hole underground already.
He stumbles in the middle of the living room. Going from sitting on his shins to standing on a hardwood floor makes him nauseous. The buzzing of nerves informs him swiftly that his legs are asleep and the cramps that hit his thighs has him carefully maneuvering to the floor. Ow.
Golden rays of light shine through his half-shut curtains and illuminate the dust dancing through the air. He imagines pink particles and red trees. The world is bright. The time on his communicator is 1:07. He imagines the rattle of a wooden spoon being taken out of the utensils drawer. And a pan being set on the furnace in the kitchen behind him. It wouldn't be Feinberg. He'd just get food out of the creative inventory. And the breakfast Couri makes doesn't need a furnace. But it's nice to imagine. Sitting on the floor. Pancakes and eggs and Belvita biscuits and porkchops.
Golden carrots in the nest. Rolling his eyes as Feinberg brings one to his face but biting down anyway. Kissing the golden sparkles off his lips. It's stupid. He's stupid. Sitting on the floor in his living room. Legs no longer asleep but not getting up anyway. Pile of cloth gifts by the couch.
Not in the nest. Like he's not in the nest. Like Feinberg's not in the nest.
He's thinking too much about it. He gets up, rubbing his eyes and shaking out his wings. The feathers that fall out fit in with all the other ones scattered around the house. It's not enough to care. Preening can wait until he's not thinking about black painted fingernails and orange-white-blue scales. He ignores how its more likely for Poundy to sit silently behind him, aligning the feathers with a small frown on his face. It's not worth it to care about.
Walking down the hallway to his room is almost more stressful than putting his hand on the doorknob.
Pushing open the door is definitely more stressful than putting his hand on the doorknob.
It's exactly the same as how he left it.
It's worse than he remembered it.
Black-out curtains make the light from the hallway stark against the subject of his thoughts. The nest is almost entirely covered in Feinberg's stuff. Something he did after only a few days of crying into what used to be the only one of Fein's jackets in the nest. Now there's at least 10 (14. He counted.).
Every t-shirt left behind in his laundry basket. Every pair of sweatpants left to him. Pink and blue and white are the colors of his nest. There's Poundy's sweater, Nerdi's necklace, Oliver's hoodie, but they're all somewhere at the bottom. Moved away from supporting the walls.
Maybe he'll work the pile of clothing into his nest tomorrow.
He closes the door and crawls into the nest. It's infinitely better than any bed. It's the worst sleep he's ever gonna get.
KENIFIES FIC !! this is romantic !!
Kenadian has OCD in this , and i do NOT have ocd !! so even though i've done my researched & peer reviewed this , keep the fact that i dont have ocd in mind!! <- also, on that note, thisis wifies POV & he doesnt know what ocd is !!
words: like 2k !!
Wifies considers himself to be very observant, in fact, he'd consider "being observant" to be one of the things he's best at, considering he was literally built for that purpose. So, he's comfortable with having it settled right between cooking and pretending to be human, and perhaps those three are behind pattern recognition- anyways. The point is, due to this, he knows, for a fact, that Ken is more stressed than normal.
"Wiiiifiessss, babe, love of my life," Wifies glances away from his work- one of the many downsides about being a clone of a workaholic- to see Ken slumped across the back of the couch.
"Kenadian." He responds, whatever soft expression he's wearing definitely ruining the purposeful monotone of his voice. Not that he cares though, because the tension leaks out of Ken's body, and she somehow becomes even closer to a state of liquid. "Have you ever thought about painting your nails?" A 10 tick pause where Wifies considers the question, "Well," Wifies stalls, leaning back and resting his head beside Ken's, "not before this, no. But, I wouldn't mind them getting painted." Ken grins, giving him a quick peck on the lips, then their eyebrows scrunch and she gives him a few more in quick succession. When they're satisfied she smiles, starting to get up.
"Though, whatever happened to relaxing all day and watching me work, Ken?" Ken pauses, and Wifies can see the gears turning in her head. "This is relaxing! This would count as relaxing. Yeah. And besides- you've been working for far too long! What are you even working on? Code?" "I'm literally a clone, I need to learn code in case I need to-" "I can practically hear your fans whirring!" "I don't even have fans- redstone doesn't produce heat, why would you even use fans as an example??" "So, logically, a break is in order!" Ken lands on the floor with practiced movements, and Wifies runs a million different responses through his cpu before deciding to just chuckle and get up, following Ken.
The main factor that points to Ken being stressed is that she's even home in the first place, Wifies thinks, turning the corner to enter Ken's room. Ken's really only home when she's asleep, they've planned something like a movie night, she's procrastinating something, or she's stressed out. And, based on the sheer amount of redstone and blueprints on their desk, Wifies would bet his diamonds on Ken being stressed. And- maybe also procrastinating, but that's neither here nor there.
When Wifies sits criss-cross on Ken's fluffy, half-yellow, half-green carpet, Ken's already digging through his vanity to find his bin full of nail polish.
Ken inhales a sharp breath and puts everything away, leaving the room for what could've only been a second before retracing her steps and restarting the process of getting out the nail polish. Wifies sits patiently; quietly observing each time Ken restarts the process with a tilted head and a twitch of his ears. Though, he does make sure to smile if Ken ever looks his way.
When Ken sits down in front of him, they're already talking about her plans for Wifies' nails. "Okay, okay, I know you've got that whole black-and-white thing going on, but- but but but- listen, listen! Black base, green and yellow french tips!" Wifies can't hold back a snort. "Is this just an excuse to get your colors on me?" Ken leans back, hand on heart, like he was hurt. "Whaaaaatttt??? Nooooo! I can't believe you would ever suggest that I would do that!"
Wifies holds in his amusement and keeps his face carefully blank, watching Ken's facade crumble into giggles in front of him. "Okay, okay, Wifies, Wifies, green and yellow are just the superior colors!" Ken manages through shaking shoulders, Wifies gives her mercy in deciding to respond."Riiiight, well, i guess if they're so superior they'll just have to be on my nails"
Ken's smile is bright when they open the bin, pulling out the stamper and colors. They hesitate a bit, before replacing the plain black with a glittery one, glancing over at Wifies. Wifies, truthfully, doesn't really care about the color of his nails, besides the fact that having them painted in the first place might make him feel more human, so he gives Ken a reassuring smile. It doesn't seem to work, as when Ken looks back to the polishes, her eyebrows are still pinched. She aligns the bottles in a perfectly straight line, then separates them by a few pixels, seeming to count the pixels in-between them. She places the stamper behind the polishes, then seems to remember something, and gets out some acetone and cotton balls. She re-arranges the setup a couple times, by height, then by color, flipping the colors around and around.
When Ken relaxes, they pick up the glittery black polish. Wifies offers his right hand, and Ken seems to get nervous again. Wifies counts up to 30 seconds, watching Ken open and close the polish's bottle. Wifies- doesn't really know what to do here, he's good at observing, not acting, but he thinks his silence is making Ken more anxious, so he starts speaking. "Do players often paint their nails? When we've gone to popular servers, I see a lot of painted nails. But I'm not sure if that's a characteristic of players who play on popular servers, or the player population in general." Ken pauses, glancing back at Wifies. Wifies thinks that she sometimes forgets he's a clone. Well, she doesn't forget , obviously, more like.. suspends her disbelief.
"I- don't know, actually." Ken has a thoughtful look on her face, opening the polish for what seems to be the final time, placing the bottle on the ground beside her and starting to paint Wifies' nails. "I know me, Wato, and Corealis paint our nails," Wifies suddenly notices Ken's alternating green-and-yellow nails. "And I'm pretty sure Seawatt paints his, too. But I don't think he did before he got on Parkour Civ." Ken pauses for a moment, dipping the applicator back into the bottle before continuing. "I don't think many speedrunners paint their nails, but I'm positive none of them- or, at least, none of the good ones- wear long nails. Too much of a risk of them breaking, and a broken nail could be the end of a good run." Wifies remembers Ken speedrunning prisons, measuring their movements until the only thing holding them back is RNG. Wifies imagines painting dye onto the bottom of their shoes and seeing how the coordinates of her steps change each reset.
Ken finishes his right hand and moves onto his left, Wifies feels the fluff of Ken's carpet move under the slow wag of his tail. Ken continues speaking, "I remember Wato talking to me about this one person's nails- one of the people he's met on Hypixel skyblock, which is like- not- weird? I guess? This person had really long nails, like, more than a few pixels, decorated with shiny silver polish and- I think it was diamonds? Like, if any server would house people with such long, fancy nails, it'd be Hypixel. I think Wato even asked me to work on longer nails for them after that. That's why I have acrylics now, actually. The powder got all over Wato's room and we haven't tried again since." Ken's laughter warms Wifies' heart, and he ends up laughing too when Ken has to put the polish applicator back in the bottle to avoid ruining Wifies' nails with her laughter-induced shaking.
Wifies picks up the conversation when Ken's laughter quiets and she starts painting the two unpainted fingers on Wifies' left hand. "Well, even if not a lot of players paint their nails," he looks down at his sparkly black fingertips, "I think these make me feel more human. It's another thing that separates me from Evilfies, too." Ken scoffs, capping the black polish and starting to fan Wifies' still-wet nails. "I bet Evilfies didn't even wear top coat on his nails. His nails were probably super dry. He was so miserable! You didn't even know what cookies were before we left! So, I highly doubt he did either!" Wifies huffs out an amused breath, "I don't know everything he knew, you know. He could've known what cookies were."
Ken throws his hands up, completely forgetting about the fact she's supposed to be fanning Wifies' half-dry nails, "You saw the sad kitchen he had in there! I bet he only ate things out of the creative menu! And- and! Not even that! I bet he only ate golden carrots! And his argument would be something stupid like, 'golden carrots are the most efficient food source', I can practically hear him saying that! With his dumb face!" Wifies laughs, imagining his jaw and cheeks hurting with how many times he's laughed today, and sees Ken smile proudly through the artificial tears in his eyes. Ken, at that moment, starts fanning Wifies' nails again, and Wifies thinks he can see the gears turning in her head on whether or not it's dry enough to continue working.
Wifies avoids commenting on how Evilfies' face looks exactly the same as his, and instead plants a quick kiss on Ken's nose, watching with amusement as Ken's face turns bright red. Ken pointedly looks away from him, going to dig around in the nail polish bin to retrieve cuticle oil and top coat, both bottles ending up to the right of the stamper. Ken ends up switching them around a couple times, but Wifies doesn't interrupt, mainly because his nails are still slightly wet and, on a lesser note, he gets to admire Ken while he's here.
Wifies flaps his hands to quicken the drying process, and while he watches Ken, all he can feel is an overwhelming sense of love . It makes errors spark to life in his mind, it makes redstone spark and lamps switch on, it hurts his chest where it rests, behind where a player's heart would be. Ken's wearing a simple hoodie-sweatpants combo, and Wifies thinks it's the most beautiful picture; Ken sitting in front of him, painting his nails, feeling the same love that hurt's Wifies chest but was meant to live in hers.
Ken, when she's done, picks up Wifies' hands in her own. "I think the black is dark enough that we don't need another coat," she says, twisting his hands around and squinting at what she sees. "I think they're dry enough, too, so! We can work on the french tips!" Ken drops his hands, moving to pick up the stamper and the green polish. She spreads the polish on the stamper's surface, then puts the green away and picks up Wifies' left hand with so much care Wifies almost can't believe it's for him.
Ken pushes the tip of his pinkie's nail into the stamper, and when it's released, Wifies feels a little speechless. She cleans the stamper then repeats the process, yellow, green, yellow, green. Each finger gets stamped in alternating colors; a sort of sacred-feeling silence filling the space they've built together.
When the process is finished, Wifies' left hand starts and ends with green, and his right hand starts and ends with yellow. A mirror of Ken’s own nails. Ken starts putting everything away but Wifies isn't looking, and he doesn't know if Ken restarts and repeats the process of cleaning everything up, but when Ken sits between his crossed legs and rubs his face against his cheek, Wifies' nails are dry.
Wifies' wraps his arms around Ken's torso, and buries his head in her hair, and he kind of feels like crying- even though that doesn't make sense . He thinks they sit there longer than he's aware of, even though Ken's purring keeps him more grounded than he could've been. And even though Wifies knows he’ll have to bring up Ken’s messy desk later; they sit there, on Ken's green and yellow carpet, in the middle of Ken's room, in the middle of this house they've built- that has become more of a home to them than anywhere else they've known. And Wifies knows, as much as the stars never touch and the universe loves, that this is the best life he could've even known as a clone.
First KWW fic :D i love masked wato because WHYY is she Like That . whys she just wearing evilfies clothes and wearing his face and pacing around his office and sitting in his chair like GIRL
Words: 1087 !!!
Wato knows that his memory isn't something she should rely on. It's had holes wide enough to stick her hands through and pull for as long as she can remember, which, now that they're thinking about it, isn't that good of a measurement.
Her memory has been failing her for long enough that they now look towards their subconscious before her memory, letting a twist of her gut and an unintentional scrunch of her eyebrows guide her in placing blocks, instead of the knowledge that had to be locked up somewhere inside her mind in order to produce those reactions in the first place. He remembers placing a dropper and filling it with items, mind fluttering with information that's only intuitive when she forgets that she's thinking; those thoughts then becoming a mere feeling, like a dream she'd just woken up from. He remembers the feeling of dread crawling up her throat when she saw her face, half covered by a white mask, reflected back at her through the water's surface. He doesn't remember blurs of green and yellow, soft against his fingers and face, soft against his back and legs, the feeling of a hoodie's zipper digging uncomfortably behind his head- juxtaposed with quiet laughter and a warmth nestled in the space between her heart and ribs. She doesn't remember, but she's choosing not to think, and when she lets her hands move- the sheep she spawns are one green, one yellow.
And- she was thinking of something. She looks around her, mind buffering, trying to figure out- where are they? His gut swoops and her hands come to her face- the feeling of smooth white on her right fingertips feels like a shock to her system, but she doesn't know why. The thought doesn't panic her, like some old crumbling part of her mind expects, so he figures that this has happened before. Her fingers drift to the edge of the mask and it's something she only realizes after sharp panic splits his mind; he jerks her hands away from her face and has to force themself to breathe. Panic holds her ears flat against her skull and her shaking hands awkwardly flutter around her, she ends up settling with hugging herself as he spins in a slow circle to observe her surroundings- she's flying over a half-finished escape room, the power of creative mode means she's only imagining the bile itching the back of her throat, she's in a void world, and the feeling of multiplayer hums behind her neck when he focuses on it. She- she doesn't know why she's building an escape room in multiplayer. She usually builds escape rooms in single player- usually only testing them in multiplayer- and they send the structure over comms if it was made for someone else. The second that thought finishes she realizes that she doesn't remember where it came from. The thought feels right, but trying to remember building in singleplayer only gives her glimpses of bedrock and sleepless nights, and the concept of commissions only give them a vague feeling of frustration.
The memory of comms does give her pause, though. She pulls out her communicator, breezing past the ever-present feeling of forgetting something, and turns it on. And, well, she doesn't know what she expected, but of course there's only vague familiarity towards her friends list. Before he could do much, her comm vibrates with a notification: a message from some player named Wifies. She opens the chat and- -she scrolls up to she how she would usually respond- -they open up a chat with- -they frown, letting the twitch of his ears tell him where to place cobwebs-
-llo, Wato." She's already looking at Wifies, not feeling panicked at all- which- she thinks is weird. Because she feels like she just had water dumped on her. Like they're a newborn trying to walk. She doesn't remember the escape room being this far along, but he's about 15 ticks into trying to convince himself this is normal, and about 20 ticks late in answering Wifies. "Hi Wifies," she ends up saying- far too frazzled to think up anything better. She watches Wifies give an amused huff, watches his dog ears flick and tail sway, trying to place him in her mind. "Well, how's the escape room coming along?" He says, placing his hands in his lab coat's pockets and shifting his weight to the left. She starts speaking before her conscious mind can process the question, "I'd say it's going well so far. I'm nearly done with the hoglin room, but I'm still figuring out how to respawn the armour stand. I ended up going with the saddled pig idea for jumping the 4-block gaps. Yeah, it's an easy softlock if it drops in the void too early, but it eventually falling in the void is kind of the goal." The smile she gets makes her feel dizzy, and she feels kind of grateful that Wifies looks away from her before whatever expression they're now wearing crossed her face.
She takes the small break of Wifies inspecting her work to catalog what she knows. They wring their hands together and glare down at his suit jacket; it feels wrong, and that feeling feels unnatural to him. They think this is what they usually wear. They look down at himself and expect to see it, but the feeling of the seams makes her itch, and the tie around her neck feels suffocating. And he- he doesn't really care that wearing this is what was normal for her, because she doesn't even remember that normal- or that her. He touches the mask on the right of his face and thinks about who she is, how he doesnt mind using the same name that still catches her attention, even though she feels like they barely even have ownership of the name they've probably used for an entire life's worth of lost memories. When she lets the sound of a small woof bring him back to reality, he still feels floaty, like he's in the wrong place. But she looks to Wifies and- "Hey, come back with me to the factory?" It feels like love, a kind that makes her want to wear his sweaters and bracelets, the kind that plants spores of mold in her skull. And she follows, because even if her hands shake and the ravines in her memory tell her that this isn't real love, she's lost, and Wifies is guiding her.
HIII im quartz :D !!! i have AuDHD, ARFID, and generalized anxiety
(also do not use the tilde(~) around me tyvmmm)
and HERE https://en.pronouns.page/@quartzei is my pronouns page !!
i DRAW !! i make MINECRAFT SKINS !! and i WRITE FANFICTION
i am . nearly constantly . hyperfixated on MCYT (though the smps/ccs/whatever do change) !! so be warned that i will be posting lots about MCYT (art, fics, liveblogging, etc) !!
^ by conscienciousness
i also post about my modded minecraft experiences & . generally whatever im thinking about !! and very very occasionally will i reblog/post about fandoms besides MCYT
if i forget 2 tag literally anything SORRYYYYY and u can infact bother me about it in my asks .or somethin,, thumbs up emogi <3 AND !! SPEAKING OF ASKS!!
my ask box will always b open :D feel free to send art rqs !!! or . literally anything !! i love talking :] mutuals feel free to bother me for any reason through any of the usual routes (dms/asks) !!!!
sona under the cut :D
THIS IS ME !! QUARTZ !! :D she came into existance from magic coagulating in a nether quartz deposit !!! evetually that magic gained sapience and formed quartz here !!
quartz has crystal manipulation magic!! but . she uses most of it yknow . moving around LOL ,, so it isnt that useful otherwise :] she has stamina becuz moving faster = expending more magic , so she still has to rest and allat :] :D !!
