#wren-kitchens

[theminecraftbee]

on the topic of stable alliances have you noticed that the mounders now consists of 3 people who have been cast out from their team in varying seasons because they turned red (scarlet pearl counts as 'red' imo) because i ABSOLUTELY have and im not normal about it

like even as mumbo was trying to kill them, none of them cast him out until he was dead, and the session after they all celebrated his life

oh my god wait you have. just pointed this out to me. oh my god no WONDER they stay loyal to each other; they know EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS if they don't.........man.

[scribbling-dragon]

45 and flower husbands (or maybe emberfrost/snowbugs :eyes:) for the ask game!

breath from death

summary:

“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus. When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him.

(ao3 link)

(2,473 words)

hdjsk this was meant to be more angsty than it actually was,, i just made tango into a bit of a loser tbh. but! hope you enjoy the snowbugs (i can't lie the only reason i wrote them is bc i loved the name hdsjhsjk). did i see scott gift tango a heart and go a little silly? yes. yes i did

also! if you liked this and want to send in another request the list of prompts is here! i've got a lotta free time at the moment, so i'll definitely be writing stuff a lot more than i have been recently

“Ooh, Skizz really wasn’t lying, hm?”

Tango glances up at the voice, not even bothering to lean away from the bush he’s made himself a comfy spot against. Or as comfy as he can be when every part of him is in burning pain and agony. But the slight slouch he’s found himself in puts the least amount of pressure on his various injuries and maladies, and so is the most comfortable he can be right now.

“Scott,” he croaks out, wincing a little at how terrible his voice really sounds. He’d been spitting smoke earlier, angry with how much energy it was taking to simply haul himself to his feet. It’s left him with the inside of his mouth covered in ash, and his throat feeling like it’s been rubbed raw. “Good to see you could make it.”

Skizz is somewhere nearby, but not close enough to interrupt if Scott decided he wanted to put him out of his misery right here and now. He’s somewhat caught between being thankful for such a thing, and angry that he couldn’t go on any further.

He’d just be another footnote at the end of a book, another mention; a small aside, make sure to mention the one that almost dies in the most silent and insignificant ways.

He is well aware of his previous contributions to these games. He goes out with barely a sound, and the world carries on without him, continues to spin round and round, maybe a few choosing to mourn him. Be sad over the misfortune of his death, how easily such a thing could have been prevented.

He doesn’t even realise he’s breathing smoke again until Scott coughs, waving a hand in front of his face to waft the smoke away. Tango snaps his jaw shut almost immediately, muttering a quiet “sorry” when Scott continues to cough.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Rough day?”

“You could say that,” he stretches his back out, wincing as it tugs at the edges of unhealed injuries. A stray branch from within the cherry blossom bush scraping a hot line of agony across his spine. He curls inwards on himself with a hiss of pain, tears beading in his eyes at the sudden sting of all his injuries making their protests known.

The small relief from earlier, afforded to him by other servermates, swayed by Skizz’s plea for a small gift of love, a small act of mercy. A better act of mercy would be to put him out of his misery entirely, he thinks humourlessly.

“Hey, c’mon, you're just making this worse for yourself,” a hand lays over the back of his own hand, slowly encircling it before pulling it away. The movements are done with such delicacy, such gentleness, it’s as though he’s made of an extremely fragile glass. Like he’d break if the hands moved him too fast, that he’d shatter into a thousand pieces.

Maybe he would. He feels about ready to fall apart right now, anyway.

“See,” the person – Scott, it’s still Scott, he’s still here, Tango realises belatedly – breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s much better. Now, where has your teammate gotten off to?”

“He, agh,” he coughs again, a small curl of smoke rolling off his tongue as he hacks, one or both his lungs threatening to make an appearance as he doubles over again, stomach cramping with the force of his coughs. “He went to get some resources, something to better survive the next few hours.”

“He didn’t stay with you?”

“The idiot would have,” he scoffs, laughing slightly. He then has to cough again, appreciating Scott’s gentle stroking over the top of his shoulders. He’s nowhere near as warm as Tango himself is, the fire stoked within his core happily blazing away, despite the disrepair of the rest of his body. “I made him leave. I’m dead either way. My death will be nothing to gasp and cry over, better he’s not around when it does happen.”

“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus.

When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him. His hand is still lying over the top of Tango’s shoulders gently, though no longer stroking to soothe him through a coughing fit.

When Scott had turned up, looking down at him with those gleaming red eyes. Eyes that herald violence, promise it, Tango had willingly accepted his death. Would probably have stretched his arms out and taunted Scott for coming after someone when their guard is so far down that it’s ripped to shreds if even twitching his arms didn’t hurt so badly.

And then he’d just…stood there, crouched in front of him and comforted him as he coughed.

It’s his own fault that his lungs are in such a sorry state, anger over everything about these damn games making his flame burn too hot too quickly. He usually has better control over it, breathes fire for a party trick sometimes, not to clog his lungs with ash. Still, Scott had provided the comfort happily, despite them being on rival teams now, people that should be looking to kill each other. Not make sure that he can breathe and is comfortable and that his ally hasn’t abandoned him.

“Every death is worth shedding at least a tear over,” Scott tells him. His hands have migrated from his shoulders to cradling the back of his neck, now kneeling in front of him instead of crouching. Tango almost wants to tell him that he’ll stain his jeans with grass and mud; they may already be wrecked beyond repair, ripped in ways that aren’t purposeful and stained with old blood, but the thought still crosses his mind. “You’ve built good alliances here, love, there will be several tears shed over your death.”

“And a few oh, poor Tango, what a terrible way to go!’s following behind it,” he snorts without humour, only sparing a moment to be relieved when it doesn’t catapult him into another coughing fit. “The same way it goes every time,” he finishes, slightly bitter. It brings a sour taste to his mouth to think about his previous failures. His previous embarrassments.

He’s jolted from his self-pity party when Scott’s fingers twitch over the nape of his neck, making his efforts to ignore how Scott’s hands are currently resting against the back of his neck null and void. His efforts to ignore how the hands reach far enough round that Scott could easily strangle him. Could simply wrap tight and squeeze the last drops of life from him. Scott would definitely benefit from it, numerous superficial injuries littering his body that he’d probably be relieved to get rid of.

But Scott doesn’t grip to his neck tighter, doesn’t shove him to the ground and crush his windpipe. His hands remain a heavy, almost comforting, weight at the back of his neck. Their faces are close like this, he realises belatedly, the intimacy of such a thing settling over him suddenly and heavily. Like a weighted blanket’s just been chucked on his head. He feels a little unbalanced by such a realisation, even as close to death’s door as he currently is.

It makes an odd feeling wash over him, only increasing as Scott moves his hands, fingers tickling the short furs at the back of his neck. Can feel the way Scott’s thumb brushes over his pulse point – stupid, doesn’t he know that the thumb has a pulse? That you can’t measure someone else’s heartbeat with your thumb, as your own racing heart will interfere?

Scott’s pinky fingers ghost over his jaw as his hands retreat, and tango almost makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat when he thinks Scott’s pulling away from him.

He’s glad he didn’t (really, really glad) when Scott’s hands still again, settling over his jaw, cradling his face gently between his palms.

He really is quite close now, close enough that Tango can take in the smudged state of his make-up, like Scott’s been rubbing his eyes and smearing it around the corners of his eyes. Or that he’s not reapplied it recently and he’s simply been wearing the same make-up for the past few days.

He’d given up on the stupid pink eyeliner and little hearts he’d draw on his own and the others’ faces ages ago, tired of reapplying it every morning, wasting precious time that could be spent doing other things. More important things.

Scott’s make-up still looks good, though, smudged the way it is.

“I’ve always noticed when you died,” Scott tells him. This close, he can see the pink flecks in Scott’s eyes. They almost match the shirt he chose to wear for this go-around, wanting to fit better with the whole vibe they had going on at the Heart Foundation prior to its burning. “Kinda hard not to, when you're checking your comm every few minutes and hoping it’s not one of your allies that’s just died.”

“Oh,” he says, maybe a little dumbly. So sue him! He’s not sure what to say to a man very close to his face, still looking pretty despite his smudged make-up, when he gets told that he always notices him.

Yeah, some snide part of his brain comments, always notices when you make a fool of yourself and die in the most humiliating way possible.

“Oh,” Scott repeats, snickering a little. It makes his shoulders shake, meaning Tango’s face is wobbling a little because Scott’s still holding his face, cradling him carefully like he’s some delicate thing to be treasured.

Man, he’s glad Skizz hasn’t made a reappearance yet. He’s not sure how he’d explain his current everything to him with a straight face. Skizz would probably laugh at him until he cries.

“What else do you want me to say to that!” he protests, a little embarrassed at his slightly lacklustre response. “Thanks, I notice every time you die too – I'm always dead at that point! I can’t notice.”

“No, no,” Scott shakes his head, brushing one of his thumbs over the paper-thin skin beneath his eye. The motion makes him shiver, something weird, but not unfamiliar or unwelcome, curl down and around his spine. He shudders again. “I’m just teasing you, love, promise.” His eyes twinkle with mirth, “Would you believe me if I told you I came here with kind intentions?”

“Not at all,” Tango says, half-joking. “You’ve only been mean to me so far.”

“Aw, I'm hurt!” Scott cries, eyes crinkling as he grins. “I saw Skizz’s, uh, plea for help on your behalf and thought I might as well pop over and give you a little boost.”

“Oh, really?” He perks up at that. A few people have been by already, each giving him a small boost. To think he was in an even worse state as the sun rose that morning is somewhat horrifying to think about. It’s a miracle he even managed to have a coherent conversation with Skizz as their day began. “Well, c’mon then! Don't leave poor ol’ me waiting.”

“Okay, okay,” Scott laughs again, a little quieter. “God, you tell someone you're about to give them something, and it’s all they can think about.”

“All I can think about is how much pain I'm currently in,” Tango jokes.

He realises that the joke didn’t quite land as he intended when Scott’s face doesn’t continue to crease with smile lines, instead dropping into something sadder. “Well,” he says confidently, “I can fix that real quick for you, love.”

And then Scott’s leaning and Tango’s floundering, because, sure, he’s kissed people before. For definite. Kissed people plenty of times, actually! But he never quite knows what to do with his hands, nevermind the fact that he can barely even lift his hands right now.

Scott seems comfortable taking the initiative, giving him a chaste peck on the lips, warm hands continuing to cradle his face gently, before pulling back just as quickly as he’d moved in.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied. “All better?”

“I – yeah. Thanks,” he manages. He mentally fist pumps when his voice doesn’t wobble and he doesn’t immediately chase after Scott with significantly less achy limbs than a few moments before. “That’s really appreciated, thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Scott says, wiping a little around his bottom lip, clearing away some of the smudged make-up there. “Always glad to help!” He chirps, then stands. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around, hopefully not at the other end of my sword!”

“Hopefully not,” Tango agrees. Really hopefully not because he’ll probably just stand there like an idiot and think about how soft Scott’s lips are, and the way they’d slotted against his own, and-

The clearing of a throat above him has him blinking his eyes open, squinting a little at the figure silhouetted by the sun.

“See you had a little visitor,” Skizz tells him, sounding far too smug for someone that probably only saw Scott walk away. Tango’s sheltered where he sits, so even if Skizz was on his way back while…all that happened, there’s no way he actually saw anything.

“I- what? Oh, Scott, yeah. He gave me a heart.”

“See he gave you a little something else, too.”

What?

“What?” He asks, sitting up slightly, hissing under his breath as his cracked ribs forcefully remind him that they're still cracked. “What d’you mean?”

“You got a little something,” Skizz says, “around here.”

And gestures around his mouth.

Tango wipes at his lip with his thumb, cringing when it comes away stained with make-up. Make-up that everyone has seen Scott wearing recently.

“Oh, wow, haha,” he laughs, not at all amused. “How’d that get there.”

“How indeed,” Skizz says, obviously already knowing, the dick. “Maybe we should ask the whole server, see if they can help us solve this mystery.”

“No!” Tango throws himself upwards as Skizz goes to retrieve his comm, smacking his hands away frantically. “No, no, I'm sure we can figure this out ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm sure we can.” Skizz says, and walks off. Still grinning.

Tango collapses back down to the ground, indulging his moment of dramatism even as it aggravates a few minor wounds.

Whatever shitty higher being watches over me now, he pleads, please strike me down before he comes back.

The shitty higher being watching over him decidedly does not strike him down, and Skizz comes back to laugh him again, though he brings a make-up wipe with him…maybe Tango can find it in his heart to forgive him. Eventually.

[tunastime]

hello hello! I am insufferable :D (this is really long sorry-)

imagine jimmy and tango so exhausted from rebuilding the ranch and collecting resources for it that the only time they are really together is when they fall into bed and pass out immediately

but jimmy’s hands are still badly burnt from when he was restraining tango, and all that building has Not Helped, but he didn’t stop until tango essentially dragged him away, because of course he felt how much his soulmate was hurting

jimmy kept trying to sneak away when tango wasn’t paying attention (“we don’t have any good armour, we need at least one layer of defence!”) so tango came up with the better plan of just laying on jimmy

it started out as a last-ditch attempt to keep jimmy resting. tango fully expected jimmy to push him off, but instead jimmy just sort of froze in surprise before relaxing into it—it’s at that point where tango realises jimmy is The Most touchstarved person in the world, ever, and will do pretty much anything for cuddles

so what does one do with this information? abuse it, of course!

even after jimmy’s hands have healed (wounds like that heal fast on life games—They find it boring when one person is unable to do anything because of an injury) tango insists on cuddle sessions every afternoon, something jimmy is obviously trying to pretend he doesn’t like as much as he does

tango spends most of the time teasing jimmy about how sweet he is, what with how his will crumbles every time tango asks him for something if he’s holding jimmy’s hand at the same time. so you can imagine jimmy’s delight when he found out tango purrs

they’re especially tired after the whole warden ordeal, both half asleep in each other’s arms. tango has his nose pressed against jimmy’s neck as he rests his head on jimmy’s shoulder, jimmy with his wings around them both.

jimmy blinks sleepily and smiles at tango, who looks like he is about to pass out right there. he moves his head slowly, as to not disturb him, and presses a kiss to his hair.

he almost yelps as he hears a low rumbling, expecting it to be the warden or pearl’s dogs, but as he listens, he realises it’s much too soft to be something aggressive.

for a second, jimmy is utterly confused as to where the noise is coming from. then, he turns back to tango and notices how his throat—currently pressed against his shoulder—has begun to vibrate.

jimmy presses a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing in delight. tango, mr ‘i’m going to bring the warden from the deep dark’, resident redstone mad scientist, creator of decked out, is purring.

“tango,” jimmy whispers gently. “hey, tango.”

tango cracks an eye open, and wow he really is a large cat. “mm?”

“you didn’t tell me you purred.” jimmy grins.

“wha..?” tango does not look awake enough to understand anything.

“you’re purring.”

tango just blinks for a moment, before apparently processing what jimmy just said and going bright pink. “oh! oh, no- I wasn’t- y’see, I just-“

“I kissed your head and you started purring!” jimmy exclaims, partially to tease him and partially because it is, in all honesty, adorable.

“yeah, well,” tango mumbles, trying (and failing) to hide his face. “… shut up.”

“tango, I am never going to shut up about this.”

them <3

HI THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR MONTHS AND I JUST KEEP RE-READING IT INSTEAD OF POSTING IT.

I don't know if I've ever actually written it, but I'm in love with a tango who purrs. I've assigned this man so many silly cat traits it's starting to get ridiculous. He's got his cat-ish eyes and tail, his purring, his teeth, though there's a special place in my heart for my lovely mutual Theo's hc of something inside him literally glowing, him being toasty warm, and a collective headcanon of him needing his blaze-rod crown to stay energized during the life games. I could go on and on about blazeborn and tango, please hold me back.

And jimmy who won't admit that he enjoys the attention but won't ever say no to it, i adore him. I think about the ranch burning way more than I should for it being a year ago, there's just so much to unpack in relation to what DL was for jimmy as a character.

Also:

mr ‘i’m going to bring the warden from the deep dark’, resident redstone mad scientist, creator of decked out, is purring.

AS HE SHOULD! AS HE SHOULD!! I ADORE HIM.

anyway, I'm still crazy about them! I think about this all the time!! I'm so sorry i didn't get to this ask as soon as you sent it, it's been on my mind since then and i <333

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

WREN-KITCHENS

Hi Wren I think you're so fun and cool and your writing is so good and I love it forever and always and did you know you're fun and awesome and cool

@wren-kitchens !!!

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

lingering for the ask game?

It’s past the end of the session, and there’s still some lingering brain fog in Etho’s head from the boogeyman curse, so he’s sitting and leaning against the wall that surrounds his home, hoping the sunshine clears it up.

[mildlylesbian]

emberfrost/snowbugs for the ship bingo (scott x tango)

Tango and Scott on their own is an eh for me, throw jimmy in and I am FERAL

SEND ME YOUR SHIPS TO BECOME BINGO

[zedif-y]

*visibly vibrating* hey that joel guy amirite

FALLS OVER . YES. YEAH. that joel guy, very normal about him . think about him like a normal person in normal ways and a normal amount

[concorp]

hi this may be very bizzare but did you know that your name is also a uk insurance company

i did work experience there once and now the name is forever ingraved in my brain

yes, it’s one of the first things that comes up on google lol

aviva is the feminized version of the hebrew word aviv, meaning spring. both are not that uncommon jewish names.

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

trick or treat!

You're handed one of those tiny pumpkins! Except it appears to be made out of terracotta...How strange.

(Are those azalea leaves stuck to it? Huh.)

[babygirlbdubs]

HAPPY BIRTH

EEE TYYYY HEHEHE

[jessicas-pi]

pov you got unofficially adopted by the family who found you in their dumpster and now you and your new dad-figure are making pancakes and jamming to 80s music at 6am

click for better quality

[scribbling-dragon]

fic recs!

haunted by your own relentless heart by mossman_mothman

there will come soft rains by tunastime

Familiar Song and Dance by funkily

Dreams and Nightmares and Something More by funkily

oooo ty ty :]

[tunastime]

33 for the drabbles ask game!

hi wren! I had this song on a playlist of instrumental music to listen to while I played, you guessed it, minecraft! so it got a few loops but not many :3

(388 words)

The air is the type of warm that leaves a residue on your skin. Etho stands in the shade of his porch, unscrewing the clasp to his canteen. He can feel the line of sweat down the back of his neck, and as much as he's grown accustomed to the change in seasons here, it still bothers him. It feels like he'll never actually find a world with one season.

He recorks his canteen, setting it back against his hip. In the midday sun, Etho steps out onto the path he's made from his house, here on his own little world, and follows it around the back of the bamboo structure. Around him, the trees are alight with sound: calls through the branches, where the sunlight slants its way through, smaller animals skittering through, the rustle of leaves. He breathes out a deep, long sigh as he opens his storage chest and rifles through for his fishing pole.

He carries it, and himself, around the other side of the house, gathering his bag, his bait, his axe. He settles the pole over his shoulder, and his hat back on his head. Through the trees, as they grow denser and denser, he thinks he can hear cicadas, crickets, peeping frogs.

It was strange how quickly the biomes spread and changed throughout the world he'd explored so far. He'd be crossing a beach with fine, green sand, the mountains from which it came stretching behind his back, only to find a clearing cut through cherry and purple leafed trees. It took him a week to map the boundaries of the biomes close to his house, measuring with his footsteps where each met and melded into the next.

The hat blocks a majority of the sun from his face as he picks his way down to the river bed. There's already a perfectly shaped rock there, balanced in the sand, that he deposits his bag and axe next to. From there, he baits the simple fishing rod, and casts off into the water.

For a long time, the only sound is the water against the murky shore, rustling the reeds. The sound of the forest has faded to a gentle thrum in the background. Etho watches the bobber bounce in the water, and waits, with a patient sigh, for his dinner.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

Shoutout to wren-kitchens for being the coolest author on here!

@wren-kitchens !!!

[mildlylesbian]

emberfrost (scott x tango) for the bingo mayhaps?

Emberfrost sounds like a Warrior cats oc name, prove me wrong

Bingo!

[zedif-y]

hello i am talking to you hi hello

hello hello hello i switched to laptop to answer asks and it took forever . anyway

thank u for the ask , how ya doing? :D