#esmp fic

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

:D maybe smth about esmp1 lizzie?

(~200 words, post-rapture, bittersweet angst)

She doesn't remember where she came from. Somewhere by the ocean, she supposes, because other people she's spoken to in her travels have told her the thin, white dress she wears is traditional dress for a group of people who once lived near the water.

She doesn't remember where she's going. She's been headed east for a while, chasing the sunrise. She knows she's looking for someone, or maybe multiple someones, but she can't remember who.

She doesn't remember why, when she's served salmon at taverns, she tears into it with such ferocity.

She doesn't remember why she refuses to eat cod.

She doesn't remember where the ring on her finger came from, or the sapphire crown she had. She pawned the crown for traveling money, but... she can't bring herself to sell the ring.

She doesn't remember why, when she doodles in her notebook, she draws purple crystals and flowers and giant mushrooms and fields of wheat and axolotls.

She remembers what an axolotl is, but she doesn't remember why she knows about them. None of the other travelers she meets do.

She doesn't remember why red crystals and plants put her so on edge.

There are a lot of things she doesn't remember.

[gremnda]

I was reading @scribbling-dragon's Tommy Smajor AU and i got inspired to draw art of it. now it's a whole thing with many comic WIPs :,D

[keyslox]

wanted to draw this one scene in Fulgurite by UnderOriginal where fWhip has to help Pix with an old injury and it was so well written and so cool so i did!! yay!

(i dont think i did it justice but i needed to draw it or else id explode)

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

redid my designs for my empires superhero au cause the old ones sucked ❤️

[mentallyillfromdd]

bitches will write the most poetic and sad piece of media I've ever read and the main character will be named fucking Jimmy

[obsessedwithao3]

I am so BORED does anyone have fic recs for any of these fandoms?

Batfam

Esmp

Hsr(anything except ruan mei or the cloud quintet[quartet?])

Life series(preferably scar centric)

Lifesteal(clown,kab,squiddo,ashwag,redoons)

Hermitcraft(no mentions of iskall and stress preferably)

[waytooobsessedwithmcyt]

Empires fanfic writers know three things, have characters kill abusive parents, give everyone trauma, and make men kiss

[imaloregremlin]

remember what I said about LDShadowLady Fanart?

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 3 - Set up for failure

ESH AU LET'S GOOO

title: confinement

fandom: empires smp

cw: blood and injury

~

Jimmy bites his lip, sucks in a breath, then sidles into the vault.

It’s a tight squeeze—the Jingler had only opened the vault’s door the tiniest amount, and Jimmy hadn’t been brave enough to ask for him to open it any more. The pin holding his fishnet cape on almost pops free, and his mask gets stuck for a moment, but he manages to make it through and release his breath.

Behind the vault isn’t anything that he expects.

Behind the vault is a room that’s mostly empty, but for a pile of cardboard boxes and an old rocking chair. It looks more like a mostly-emptied storage unit than an actually vault; strange, for such a high-security building.

“What—what am I looking for?” he whispers into the walkie-talkie that the Jingler had given him.

A crackling voice speaks back to him. “Notebook.”

Jimmy glances around. His eyes land on the boxes in the corner and he heads toward them, digging through the boxes.

One of them has a worn yellow notebook, which he grabs, then heads back to the vault door.

The Jingler is waiting on the other side, hand outstretched. “Pass it through, Solidarity.”

“The Codfather,” Jimmy corrects, shoving his arm through the tiny gap. The Jingler takes the notebook, flips through a couple of pages.

“Yep,” he nods shortly. “Thanks.”

Then he turns on his heel and leaves.

“Hey—hey, wait—”

As if by some stroke of bad luck (which, to be fair, Jimmy's used to), the door slams shut.

Come on.

Jimmy pounds on the inside of the door. “Wait! Let me out!” After no response, he frantically fumbles with the walkie-talkie. “Let me out! The door closed!”

“Hmm. We've been here too long.”

“Wh—?”

“But I'll call you an escort.”

Jimmy doesn't have time to ask what that means before sirens start blaring, the lights in the vault flashing red.

The walkie-talkie pops and fizzes out in his hand.

Jimmy groans, drops to sit on the ground and wait it out, abandoning the vault’s door. It won’t be long before this place is swarming with cops, and he’ll be the only person for them to find.

He really ought to get a frequent flier card for prison.

-

“Hope you like the new digs, Solidarity,” the prison warden says loudly, shoving Jimmy into a cell that seems more secure than normal. “We've been working on a specially-reinforced one, just for you.”

“It's the Codfather, now,” Jimmy tries.

“You've made a lot of people angry,” the warden continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. He locks the cell, grins at him through the barred window of the heavy door. “Some of the boys might come through to see you.”

“Oh. Oh, that's . . . great,” Jimmy says helplessly. “Maybe they could just . . . not?”

The warden doesn't dignify that with a response. He stalks away, leaving Jimmy alone in the cell.

Jimmy leans against the wall, slides down to the floor. He fidgets with the stiff navy jumpsuit they've given him, not quite long enough in the leg, then adjusts his Codfather mask.

This is going to be just wonderful. It’s not even been a month since he was last in this prison (they’d started building this very reinforced cell while he was here, that time), and he’d been hoping to avoid it for a little while longer.

Life always sucks significantly worse in prison.

He isn’t exactly separated from the other prisoners, but he isn’t exactly with them, either. His cell (reinforced and all) is in the same hall as the other cells. The difference between Jimmy and the others is that he’s in solitary confinement lite—he doesn’t get to leave for meals or exercise time, and his cell comes with a shower and a toilet in the corner. He isn’t meant to leave at any time.

The heavy metal door that never seems to be unlocked has a window at eye level, bars set into it a couple inches apart. There’s a little slot below it, just wide enough for a food tray. That window means that he can still interact with the other prisoners, unfortunately—or, rather, they can interact with him.

So the first day is a constant barrage of verbal abuse.

See, Jimmy may be a villain now, but he does his best to be kind about it. After all, none of this is his fault, not really. He can’t control his powers. He’s a villain because it’s convenient, not because he actually wants to be evil.

But everybody and their dog has a cousin’s friend who was injured by Solidarity’s powers, and Jimmy has to be yelled at about it.

“When they let you out of your little safehouse, I’ve got a couple friends waiting for you,” a big guy warns, his thick fingers wrapped around the bars of the window. “You won’t be able to walk when they’re done with you.”

“Creative,” Jimmy mutters.

“My mom lost her kneecap,” a redhead leers, spit flying from his cracked lips. “I think I oughta deliver her one of yours.”

That doesn’t sound very nice.

“My brother can’t eat tortilla chips anymore. I’ll spit in all your food.”

“Did you know I used to have two eyes? Wonder what you’d look like with zero.”

“I will break every one of your fingers and toes.”

And on and on and on.

It’s getting kind of boring, honestly. Every time he ends up in prison, he’s under fire from more and more prisoners, many with no real reason. He’s the cause that they unite over, because everybody has been inconvenienced by Solidarity in some way. They aren’t made to leave him alone, either—the guards may not participate in the harassment, but they don’t do anything to stop the threats. The guards don’t do much of anything when it comes to him, really.

He’s pretty sure he should be having solitary exercise time, but nobody lets him out. Whenever he asks (half-heartedly) to speak to a lawyer, nobody pays him any mind. His food is almost certainly contaminated, but when he speaks up about it, the guard tells him to eat it or starve.

Jimmy’s overly familiar with unsafe food, but he eats as much of it as he can. Food poisoning is unavoidable for him on a regular basis. It’s really not that different.

(Sometimes the guard sticks around to watch him eat, amusement in their eyes. At those times, Jimmy knows for sure that it’s contaminated, and he doesn’t want to know how.)

He’s supposed to go to his first hearing about a week after his arrest, but on his third day it gets postponed to a month away. The guards tell him so with unmistakable satisfaction, and Jimmy lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling.

Does it really matter? The courts will rule against him, no matter how good of a lawyer he gets. He’s Solidarity—er, the Codfather. He’s a villain. The villains never win.

Even when he was a hero, he knew he would be tried as a villain.

It’s the fourth day when his power decides to take action. It’s been in effect this whole time, of course—the shelf where his mattress is meant to lie has already collapsed, and the water will only run burning hot—but the fourth day changes things.

He just wishes it would have picked a better time.

It’s right when the last group is coming back from dinner that the hinges of his specially-reinforced metal door break. It makes a loud noise—the creak of the metal groans, then snap!

The steady stream of inmates slow to a stop, their chatter dying off.

There’s another long groan, slow-slow-slow—

The door shifts and clunks to the ground, hinges no longer holding it up.

Jimmy, sitting on his floor-mattress, lets his head tip against the wall as he lets out a long sigh.

It couldn’t have waited? A mere twenty minutes later and he would have been in the clear.

Jimmy doesn’t fight when they pull down the door and storm in.

He just lies on his bed and tries to cover his vital organs.

-

Despite their indifference, the guards manage to pull off the attackers and send them to their own cells before too much damage is done. Then they force Jimmy to his feet and frogmarch him to a normal barred cell in a different hallway. They toss him a bottle of water and a bucket and tell him to keep a low profile, and that he’ll be moved to a more secure prison in the morning.

Jimmy won’t need that.

He has a concussion, for sure. One man had kicked his head until his ears didn’t stop ringing. That makes his vision swim when he sits up, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to call out weakly for some first aid supplies.

The guards reluctantly provide, and Jimmy sets about taking care of his injuries. It’s really not too bad—he has the concussion, of course, and something that feels like his kidney is bruised internally, but the rest of it is your run-of-the-mill beating. Bruises and cuts all over, his entire body sore. The concussion is the worst of it, bad enough that he was barely able to walk when they brought him here. He should really get that checked by a doctor. Not that it’ll happen, but it should.

Jimmy knows well enough not to fall asleep with a head wound, so he kind of just rests on the floor of the cell, sitting up slumped against the wall, not confident enough to pull himself into the flat shelf-bed with the risk of falling. He presses a hand to his bruises whenever he starts to feel drowsy, and that wakes him right up.

The guards are on edge until around midnight, when they seem to relax a bit. The lights went out at ten, so most inmates have been asleep for a little while now. The two guards assigned to him start wandering away from Jimmy’s new cell now and then instead of constantly watching it, start laughing and joking a bit more.

“Hey! Solidarity!”

They poke a bit of fun at him in the early hours of the morning. Jimmy knows he must be a sight—covered in blood and shoddy bandages, his eyes unfocused and looking at nothing as he sits there on the floor.

He doesn’t respond.

“They hit his head pretty hard. Solidarity, you still alive?”

Jimmy blinks, very slowly. It hurts even just to blink.

“Hope they knocked the power out of him. Think he’ll be able to wash himself, or will they transport him like that?”

“Eckels said they’d take him in the morning. He probably won’t shower before then.”

“I’m not touching him.”

It doesn’t happen quite as slowly as it did with the reinforced door.

As the guards talk, one of the bars of the cell just . . . falls out. It clatters to the ground, making the three men jump, cursing.

Then another falls. And a third.

Well. That’s Jimmy’s cue.

Painfully, he pulls himself to his feet. He swallows back the taste of bile as his vision spins, rubs away some of the blood dripping from his split lip, and slowly, gingerly, limps out of the cell.

The guards stare at him. One of them, cautiously, reaches for his taser.

The weapon cracks apart, shards of plastic hitting the floor.

The guard lowers his hand back to his side. The other two don’t move, staring at Jimmy in some strange mixture of disbelief and irritation.

Jimmy sighs, winces when his whole body twinges. “Stuff still in the same place?” he rasps.

One of the guards nods.

Jimmy turns away and starts the long trek to the storage room. He doesn’t necessarily need any of it, but it would be nice to not be in the prison uniform.

He needs a really long nap after this one.

-

(Poultry Man shows up at his rented room and sighs at the sight of him, then shines a flashlight in his eyes and tells him not to get out of bed for the next five days. That’s about the extent of Poultry Man’s helpfulness, but he does buy him a loaf of bread and two jars of peanut butter.)

(It was a fairly average week, all told.)

[scribbling-dragon]

scott concept that i had a bunch of fun playing about with (potential design for a potential fic i have been thinking about??) + some details i liked under the cut

(reblogs > likes!)

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Martyn never wanted to be here. Scott isn't sure if he's made the right choice. And Grian...well, he's a slave. Or, Martyn is kidnapped by hybrids, Scott turns his back on everything he's ever known to save him, and Grian is a slave.

Author: @hannah-fannah9503

Note from submitter: This fic is new (like, at the date of submission it's been posted for less than a month) and only just getting started and I am already so invested. I have no clue if it will be done by the the this submission is posted, but I am obsessed with the 11 chapters out so far, and I have no doubt it will continue to be amazing. I am normally terrified of unfinished works (so many fallen fics sit in my subscriptions) but this is definitely worth the risk.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

here, you can have it.

more appreciation to rare/not that popular pairs!

and um.. i'd be happy if you write something tumble town inspired with western duo (scar and jim, can be scaridarity i dont mind) or marshmallow duo (jim and zed, can be zedlidarity), thank you 👉🏼👈🏼

(~400 words. western duo (scar and jimmy,) intended as pre-relationship but could be read as firmly platonic. guns fired but not at a living thing. western au.)

The sun glinted across the sandy streets of Tumble Town. The Sheriff stared at his mark, finger itching against the trigger of his revolver, adjusting the brim of his hat to block out the harsh glare. The desert winds kicked up the dust, a dry omen of death to come.

The Sheriff unloaded into his quarry, six shots that exploded through the air.

The dust cleared, and the Sheriff took in the sight of his quarry. The straw and paper target, a hundred paces down the way, was in... better shape than he hoped. Only four bullets had struck it, with two apparently going wide and striking the sand. One bullet only clipped the very edge of the target, two landed in the outermost ring, and one hit the intermediate ring. Not a single bullet came anywhere close to the bullseye.

"Oh, you've gotta be jokin'," the Sheriff said.

The Sheriff's companion - a man with dark brown hair, scars across his face, cactus-green eyes, and a hat that rivaled the Sheriff's own who'd rolled into town only a week or two ago - gave his signature wry grin. "I thought you were supposed to be good at shootin', Sheriff."

"Alright, look, Scars," the Sheriff said. "The sun was in my eyes, you got it?"

The man - Scars, Tumble Town called him, for he'd never offered another name - just took the flask away from his hip and swigged whatever liquor it was he kept inside, never letting that stupid smile leave his face.

"I'd like to see you do better, big man," the Sheriff challenged.

"Oh, sure." Scars returned the flash to his left hip and calmly pulled his own iron from the holster on the right. He popped the barrel out, hummed to himself as he inspected it, and easily loaded six shots into it.

He raised the revolver, gripped calmly in both hands. He stared down the barrel for a moment, then - just after exhaling - let all six shots fly in rapid succession.

Five struck the bullseye, nearly in the exact same spot. One struck just shy of it.

"Hm." Scars regarded the target. "Well, I could've done better, but I've also had a drink or two, so not bad all things considered, huh?"

The Sheriff just stood there, mouth agape.

Scars smiled as he holstered his revolver. "You know, Jim, if you want any tips, I'm happy to-"

"Oh, shut your mouth," the Sheriff snapped.

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

here’s esmp flower husbands requested by @mentalisill !!!! hope you enjoy <3

[your-local-crypt1d]

@urfavcrime hope it was okay to tag but I've been itching for an excuse to talk about Gem and Tommy!! Forgive me if this is a bit ooc I've only watched a few of Gems videos-

Gem takes her role as Auntie very seriously. 

At first, she was a bit miffed about the whole situation. fWhip had no intention to tell her—his sister—about this, and she would have gone on unaware of Tommy even longer if fWhip wasn't terrible at hiding him. Doesn't fWhip trust her?

After fWhip explains the whole situation (Tommy has come from some kind of abusive situation; fWhip doesn't know the details, just that Tommy pleaded to be kept hidden so "he" never finds him), Gem eases up about the whole affair. 

Seeing the fondness fWhip has for Tommy, the way he effortlessly laughs at his jokes and gently scolds him for his bad language, is enough to convince Gem that everything is okay and that her brother hasn't made some huge mistake she'll need to fix. 

Gem's actually quite proud of fWhip for taking on such a big responsibility. I don't think she'd view him as parent material until she sees the way he interacts with Tommy.

Gem acts sort of like an old grandma when Tommy visits, always checking if he's hungry, and even if he says no, she's shoving plates of food towards him. complaining about how fWhip doesn't feed him enough, and he's all skin and bones (which, when you live in the snowy mountains, body fat is very important). 

She lets Tommy borrow a few simple spell books after he whined and pleaded to be taught magic (not enchantment table magic that's cringe and lame, real poggers magic like hers!). If she had any doubts about Tommy being fWhips' kid before, she certainly has none after Tommy nearly blows up half of the Eastvale Manor with magic. He is promptly banned from performing magic at home unsupervised. 

The Crystal Cliffs are a nice getaway from the Grimlands when Tommy needs it. Gems' tower doesn't have the regular echo of explosions and fireworks. Tommy has slowly grown to learn that he's safe in Eastvale and that fWhips' experiments won't ever be used to hurt him. But even if you consciously know something isn't dangerous, that doesn't necessarily translate over to your subconscious, and it certainly doesn't for Tommys' C-PTSD. So on occasion, he goes to stay with Gem when it's all too loud and stressful at home.

The only problem with it is that Tommy has a habit of running off and not telling anyone where he's going. Tommy does it a lot more than he'd admit—a flight response to his fear of abandonment, I suppose. Tommy could get away with it when no one was worried about where he'd be going, but now he has people who care for his safety (fWhip) and would burn down empires to find him. He's raising his whole familys' blood pressure; Papa fWhip is no exception. 

Luckily, Gem knows this and will send a message to fWhip every time Tommy comes to see her, regardless of whether he says fWhip is aware or not. Gem is good at remembering the little things that are important with Tommy: the areas he doesn't like being touched but won't say, the way he likes his tea, the kinds of sounds that upset him, etc. 

Gem, as usual, tries to be the voice of reason in her chaotic family, so she's usually the one who has to stop Tommy from causing problems on purpose (fWhip is an instigator, and Sausage always wants to join in). Think of Gem picking him up by the scruff of his clothes so Tommy doesn't bite someone who mildly inconvenienced him. She can and will invent a whole new spell that's just an up-sized child leash if she has to, young man, do not test her. or she just lightly bonks him on the head with her staff; that works when he steals her hat. 

All that being said, Gem is a lot more forgiving of Tommy if he does something genuinely wrong. I imagine she'd view him in a similar light to the way she views her Pillager students, "good people from bad homes," and all. She's patient when Tommy doesn't understand why something he did is wrong and never expresses anger towards him, just understanding and kindness. It works surprisingly well, especially with some sort of physical touch (handholding, hugs) to help ground Tommy in the present and remind him that he's not going to be exiled or hurt for 'fucking up' again. 

It's confusing for Tommy why fWhip and Gem are both so nice to him when he clearly doesn't deserve it for inconveniencing them all the time. But he's also desperate for the love and attention they give him, so as much as he hates it and feels weak leaning into it, he happily calls her Auntie Gem, and out of earshot, he refers to fWhip as 'dad'. 

Gem is the #1 supporter of fWhip officially adopting Tommy, and she's not subtle about it whatsoever. fWhip hasn't signed the papers yet because he doesn't want to lock Tommy into something he doesn't want, and Tommy hasn't brought it up because he doesn't want to annoy fWhip, and it is so frustrating to watch. More frustrating than Gem watching Scott and Jimmy not realising their crushes on each other are mutual. 

That's all I've got so far with her. Sorry, it's not a whole lot 🖤

[milkwithalittlebitofsadness]

Would anyone be interested in a smallidarity esmp2 fic inspired by Tyler the creators igor album… I might be too insane about both of these things

[hrts4businessbay]

📞 CALLING ALL BUSINESS BAY FANS..

Are you guys looking for a new business bay fic? Well me and my friend are cooking up something for you!!

Me and @deoir-dhruchta are making a business bay x esmp s1 (specifically Lizzie) fic on AO3 and we’re looking to see if anyone would read it!!

The business bay fans have been quiet recently so we’ve started a little revival to see if anyone would like the fic! Business bay fics are rare to find and so so underrated so I hope you’d like to see a new fic!! Can’t wait to see you all there!