#stackfic

[wicker-draws]

(wanted to try out the stackfic challenge, courtesy of @redwinterroses! feat. a really silly headcanon of mine)

Bdubs blinks. “I’m actually not a fey, y’know.”

Impulse bluescreens, then shakes his head. “Sorry, what?”

“Not a fey.”

“No yeah I got that, just— where’d all the, um, plants come from??”

“Oh that?” Bdubs picks at a sprig of moss sprouting on him. “Yeah, I just keep getting possessed by plants.”

“What does that mean.”

Bdubs points to himself. “Plants in me.”

“What.”

[paranoidpug]

“Grian,” Gem deadpanned, staring. “I thought you’d found your mending book.”

Grian blinked up at her, still waist deep in water. “Yeah.”

“Ok,” she said slowly. “So, what are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Fishing.” 

Gem sighed. “And I thought I was supposed to be the one possessed by the ocean this season,” she grumbled, wading in beside him. “Ok, move over.”  

And they fished.

[raisans-art]

The Copper King (A Stack Fic)

There are no kings here.

We are our own rulers.

Just as our parents are. Just as our peers are.

He holds no dominion over us.

He is merely the king of those without one. Death clings to his ankles because there is nowhere else to go in these lands.

But we respect him, because we know one day he will be our king.

------

I wrote a stack fic at work on business cards about Empires!Pixlriffs

[skribblegurl]

Souleater

(a little Last Life stackfic since my brain went nuts over Tango's first episode, helped along by this fanart AND this fanart)

He spreads, not cards on the table, but ethereal shapes, each shimmering like an oil slick, as if they’re enchanted. They slid across the table with no resistance. His own hearts tick in slow time on his wrist--green, yellow, red--as he gestures to the spread of valuable currency.

“Step right up!” Tango grins. His teeth are sharper than usual. “Are you a gamblin’ man?”

[infinitelysordinary]

my head still takes me back ↣ part six of ‘fuck you scott smajor: the flower husbands playlist series’ ↣ day six, fic seven of ‘wip purge week’

word count ↣ 256 words (4 stack fics)

warnings ↣ none!

summary ↣ 

On Scott Smajor and night.

ao3 link | tumblr series masterpost | wip purge week masterpost

Scott is born out of stars, fused in everything good in the world. He is an explosion, a light. He is a force that careens down to earth and crash lands onto Earth with barely a scratch.

He is born out of stars, and he is a god. Most of all, he is at home.

(And, just like his subjects, he falls in love.)

//

The flower valley is beautiful at night.

The waters are calm and warmed by sunlight, reflecting the moon in the darkness. The flowers are in bloom, as if it’s the springtime, and are soft to the touch and vibrant in the long chains Scott’s making for Jimmy.

Under the stars, Jimmy’s beautiful too.

(He is, possibly, too beautiful. Scott doesn’t like thinking about that.)

//

Scott’s always felt more comfortable in the night time.

He isn’t sure why—he’s tried, but he can’t remember his past—but he spent most of his elven childhood alongside the stars. Everything’s more beautiful under patches of moonlight.

Maybe that’s why, when the Codfather sits next to him under the stars, he doesn’t move.

He smiles, and he beams like the full moon.

//

When the sun starts to go down, Jimmy starts to leave.

Without even thinking, Scott’s hand flies out, grabbing his.

This is what he wants to say: I love you. I remember. Do you know that you look beautiful in the moonlight? I hope you do; I’ll tell you every day if you stay.

This is what he says: it’s dangerous at night. Stay?

[guster-animations]

red drips from his eyes, blood sword in hand.  he’s cured but not healed, pacified but not fixed.

it’s her turn to shine.

fueled with adrenaline.  trying not to think.  shrinking full moon dangling from her neck.

revenge isn’t sustainable in heat; only darkness.

she closes her eyes and swings the fate of the server in her hands…

the moon will glow red tonight.

[crastlefolke]

so @infinitelysordinary pointed out that the brief interval where two/three players die at a similar time and get locked in a bedrock box for a few seconds would make for some neat stack fics, and i decided to give it a shot. (i may have gone slightly overboard and written four...)

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

Seven seconds. That was the respawn time, long enough to make dying an inconvenience but short enough to limit teammates’ interactions to a wave, a shared grimace, perhaps a rushed “how’s it going?”. Not long enough to recover from the shock of dying, or prepare for the next fight, but you get what your given, and you make the most of what you’ve got.

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

Scar yelped as the ravager bore down on him and closed his eyes. Opening them, he found himself staring at a familiar bedrock wall and let out a resigned sigh. Pearl appeared soon after, looking amusingly like a porcupine, she was so covered in arrows. He gave a friendly wave.

“Hi” she said “fancy seeing you h-”

Scar was gone, pulled back into chaos.

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

“What the hell was that” Cub landed in the bedrock box awkwardly, looking disorientated and panicked.

“You ok there?” Scar asked, nursing his wounded leg

“I-I get stuck, I can’t move more than three paces from spawn-”

Scar’s timer ticked to zero and with an apologetic glance he vanished.

Cub groaned and sat against the wall, soon to be yanked back into the fight.

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

Pearl saw the hole at spawn a split second before she landed in it “What on ear-“

“Oh hey” Cub muttered glumly. “did you also fall in the pit at spawn?”

“Yep. We should really do something abo-”

Scar appeared, looking shocked “guys there’s- ”

“a pit full of mobs at spawn. we noticed”

Cub vanished. Scar had a feeling he’d be back soon.

[the-phantom-ender]

There isn't enough time.

Not enough time to be thankful,

Nor to fear,

Nor to shout.

And while a part of him does want to thank the man who saved him,

There isn't enough time.

He's scared to admit he cares.

He promises a favor.

Repayment.

That's enough, it's enough.

So he flees, he goes.

Deflects it with a tease.

There's not enough time.