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a drink for your thoughts by phantoids for actingwithportals
Fandoms: In Stars And Time (Video Game)
01 Jan 2025
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Summary
It’s been… so long.
Loop doesn’t know how long, but they know it’s been a long time. Long enough to establish a tavern in stars-knows-where, long enough to be a curiosity amongst the locals.
Long enough to make another life for themselves.
or, Loop owns a tavern. Their latest patron is not someone they want to see.
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Scene redraw based on game art for the end of Bonnie's friendquest! Featuring Geminitay and this child she found that may or may not belong to a big fish and a wifeguy frozen in time!
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Another death.
Another loop.
Another void.
Another-
Gem bites down on her lip hard enough to bleed. It tastes like ash.
“You’re back,” it states. Its head is tilted to the side, calculating, cold, eyes staring into somewhere she can’t hide like this.
Or, Gem and Xornoth are in a timeloop. They have a talk.
Or or, The girls are fighting. -
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“Wanted to show off your new dinner table, huh?” There’s a smugness in Tubbo’s voice.
Techno snorts, something of a smile twitching on his face, sarcasm thick in his tone, “Nope, just wanted to see you for no particular reason randomly during a time of year where I notably want to be asleep.”
Right. It’s still winter.
“Go hibernate, you old boar,” is all Tubbo can reply with.
or, Tubbo has a husband introductory dinner with his dads.
or or, fuck it I give up have this mess of a fun time. -
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It's just her duty as archwizard; she is a protector of the folk first and foremost.
Gem doesn't regret taking her role as she has, standing here with cracks running through her like a blazing faultline of magic, she regrets nothing.
"Sausage," she bites out, glaring at the man standing victorious over bloodshed, "why?"
The ruthless tone feels almost discordant.
The word isn't a question, it's a demand. She needs to know why he did this, why he burnt every damned bridge just to feed the demon that#s been terrorising all of them. She needs to know why her best friend would rather burn her bridge too.
The pain doesn't register against the sound of a sword clattering against crystal.
or, Gem and Sausage fight in the arena. Things go very wrong.
or or, My version of the arena fight including some fun headcanons and maybe some bad end to it. -
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Shown in this document is the transcript of a lecture given by Archwizard Gemini on the topic of creation myths in the Crystal Cliffs.
Transcript starts.
or, an academic transcript of a lecture given by Gem.
or or, I had fun with worldbuilding and found a fun way to do it with my creation myth for Crystal Cliffs -
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“I’m telling you,” a new voice says, higher and almost shrill, “he’s been like this since we found him. I don’t know what to do, but I thought you would want to know anyway!”
The first person shifts, aggressive. It almost wants to go for a sword.
Statues don’t have wants.
“Well of fucking course I wanted to know, he’s my best friend!” They shout, moving away from it towards the other voice. It cannot see them, nor can it turn to see them. It doesn’t need to, anyways, it is a statue.
or, Tubbo is healing, there's just some setbacks, sometimes. Some things have stuck to him despite it all.
or or, that boy got statued again so sad. He's okay though.Series
- Part 3 of silver platters (protege tubbo au)
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Void fishing is one of those things you don't do if you've got a decent brain on your shoulders. The risk of pulling up something you don't want is far too high.
Phil pulls up a living creature and decides to talk to it.
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“Now-” Dream carves another line, horizontal, short- “you know what happens when you fail to come back. You should know to come back, weapon, I don’t-” a straighter line, curving at the bottom, a line coming back up slightly, hooked almost- “ask much of you, only loyalty. You should be loyal.”
If it could speak, it would, it would tell him a thousand times over that its only want is to stay here, to remain with Dream because he is the only one who finds use in it.
It is loyal because it wants to stay; is that not enough?
The pain doesn’t come back, only the dampness of the cloth swiping over the lines, over its marks. A physical proof of who owns it, it thinks, and something like happiness pricks up in its chest-
It shouldn’t be feeling.
or, Dream needs to ensure his weapon knows to return and decides to make it unable to leave no matter what.
or or, that boy gets enchanted (it's bad).Series
- Part 2 of silver platters (protege tubbo au)
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A hand grasps the back of its neck. “Statue,” a voice hisses from behind it.
The weapon- no, the statue knows that voice, knows who it is, except statues do not think, do not know things. It cannot know things when it is naught but a piece of the earth, a piece of stone, of clay. The limbs are stiff, rigid, unfeeling, disconnected.
The voice circles it near-silently.
There are more words, hissed and snarled and growled, but it cannot understand the words. Statues don’t understand words.
The voice lifts the statue’s hands, running a gentle thumb over the broken skin of the knuckles, and tuts. “You should know better than to keep running, weapon,” they admonish. Their grip tightens, nail digging into one of the knuckles, drawing blood.
or, Dream tests his weapon. It's for its own good, but it still fails.
or or, Protege Tubbo au where only bad things happen and Tubbo gets tested a bit.Series
- Part 1 of silver platters (protege tubbo au)
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Dream motions for Tommy to sit down, patting a spot next to him as he speaks, “just move away from the lava before you get burned.”
There are already burns on Tommy’s skin from it.
Dream doesn’t mention that, just stares, and he thinks Tommy understands from the way he rubs a hand over the hot skin. Some of those burns aren’t from the lava, a remnant of a better time, a remnant of what should’ve been.
A remnant of a time where a prophet would worship his rightful god.
Tommy turns to him with a scowl and fire bubbling beneath his skin, and Dream almost wants to laugh at the display, like an angry cat puffing up. “You’re evil, you know that?” Tommy says such simple words for such a venomous tone.
Good thing Dream gave up caring whether he’s evil or not a long time ago, because gods can’t exactly be evil, can they?
or, Tommy's stay in the prison with dream, as it happened.
or or, Dream has a turnt up god complex and kills that boy.Series
- Part 2 of the blasphemy of godhood
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“I didn’t expect the end of it all to go like this, I guess,” Tubbo says, idly, to the open air.
They both sit in Tubbo’s cliffside base, a waterfall rushing past the open cliff-face door, the sound nearly drowning everything else out. It’s still hot in the summer heat despite the chill coming from the water.
Sam looks up from where he’s tinkering with some mechanism or other, probably the circuit for the door that Tubbo fucked up severely.
Sam sits by his side, tinkering with some mechanism or other, and Tubbo lays sprawled on the floor as a waterfall rushes by on a hot summer day. He feels nothing.
“What do you mean?” Sam asks.
or, post-canon au where guardianduo have a chat about the end of the world
or or, they talk about tubbo's big oopsie -
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So, Tommy sits, waiting for Tubbo to wake up.
“I’m sorry, Tubs,” Tommy whispers for the thousandth time in the past few days.
He still remembers it.
Sitting in a box, waiting for his death, because Tommy is resigned to the pain by now. Schlatt wanting him dead isn’t much of a surprise, really, given how much he hated the boy before. Now, knowing he was a spy?
or, clingyduo roleswap AU. Tubbo dies instead of Tommy and the guilt eats at him as he sits by his best friend's side.
or or, the brainworms of clingyduo roleswap. -
even independent men need best friends, or something by phantoids for comfymoth
Fandoms: Dream SMP
19 Mar 2023
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Dark gold hair and pale blue eyes meet him in the darkness, faintly shining in the light, expression dazed and scrunched up.
“Turn tha’ off…” Tommy slurs, groaning pathetically from his place on the floor.
Oh.
“Fucking hell, Tom, don’t do that,” Tubbo fights to keep his voice down, heart racing, pounding on the cage of his ribs as if trying to escape.
Tommy only whines and covers his eyes.
or, clingyduo sick fic. Tommy fails to take care of himself and instead claims he's dying to Tubbo. It goes as expected.
or or, I tried writing a sick fic and it sure went. -
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Before him stands a prince, barely armoured, no weapon in sight. His hair is split black and white, and he wears a suit, oddly enough, as if just coming from a wedding.
Except the wedding is tomorrow.
The other prince clears his throat, hands wringing awkwardly, and speaks, “hey, I’d um- well, I’m kind of arranged to marry this- this guy, Prince Tubbo? I heard he was here and I mean it’d just be nice if you could um- let him go?”
Tubbo snorts, Tommy laughs. “Hey, Tubs, look. He’s asking nicely, would you believe that? Already passed Husband Trial Number One,” Tommy remarks.
“Hi Ranboo,” Tubbo waves, the other - Ranboo, apparently - waves back.
or, Tubbo has an arranged marriage and, as per routine, Tommy kidnaps him to test whether this one will be a good fit.
or or, fantasy au where Tubbo, a prince, is getting wedding jitters prior to his arranged marriage with prince Ranboo. Tommy, a dragon, agrees to fake-kidnap him instead. Hijinks ensue. -
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The wall opened to a terrified face meeting the admin’s own, chaos quivering before control; it propelled the boy to start running, a rabbit futilely trying to free itself from a trap, but he was too late as Dream grabbed Tommy’s arm, dragging him back into the small tunnel in the wall. A hand kept him from screaming, another pushing a dagger against his throat, quelling the struggling, leaving only a defeated terror as the revolutionaries fell; chaos would be the last to fall to the hunter.
The rush of power the admin felt when the blade finally pierced skin, crimson painting the stygian stone around them, a limp body in his arms, that rivalled anything he’d felt before; it was addicting, in a way.
It was the feeling of caging chaos, of having control once more, with the blood of the divider staining his hands.
or, the history of the smp as told by a false god, as told through generations as a cautionary tale.
or or, a myth-format piece about dream, blasphemy and false godhood.Series
- Part 1 of the blasphemy of godhood
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He doesn’t, he can’t just leave the person he’s carrying behind to look out for others.
Tubbo trudges on, footing careful and even, measured in a way only a soldier could be, marching his way back to the edges of a city built upon a crater.
A city that will save everyone but the one who matters- mattered most.
Tubbo won’t let anyone else die, not if he can help it. So he presses on, keeps going, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else but. He hasn’t since Tommy left, lost without but still moving on and on because someone has to keep the perpetual motion going for him. Tubbo will keep going when Tommy can’t.
That is a fact.
Another fact: Punz is waiting when Tubbo gets back.
or, Tubbo finds Dream's protege separated from him and injured and decides to help him get back. They have to travel a long time to get there, run into a few hurdles because of The Egg running rampant, but in the end they get there.
or or, Tubbo POV protege au set during the eggpocalypse.Series
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Enter DEATH.
DEATH
Hello?TOMMY flinches.
TOMMY [ unsurely ]
Hello?DEATH
Oh! Hello! You… You aren’t meant to be here.or, Tommy meets Death in the void.
or or, Tommy isn't meant to be dead.Series
- Part 3 of convening with gods (new and old)
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Void misses her, more than anything, more than they miss the rest.
They were close, they think, neighbours and friends, spending time together and helping each other decorate and farm. They worked together, mined together, hung out together; they were best friends.
And then she was gone with the world they failed to save.
or, memories of a past friend dredged up by loneliness.
or or, Void reminisces on a past friend.Series
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He remains within the last of his living part, silent, invisible; vacant. If he wanted, he could detach from the cold cage, a corpse left to rot, and wander as far as his form could take him. He cannot, in truth, for he is bound to the god raking fingers through the hair of a corpse.
Tommy cannot leave these walls of obsidian and blackstone and bad bad badbadbad-
Blood coats the stone, thick, coagulated. It's days old, just like Tommy's body is, and it's starting to smell a bit too much like the heart he buried in the soil that winter. It’s a pungent reminder of a tower too high and laying down in the snow to die.
He wishes he remained there, in the snow, body frozen cold and fingertips burning with non-existent heat.
The god next to him whispers something, Tommy’s eyes slowly travelling to stare at him, a cold shiver travelling down his form at the sight of that smile. Something reverent stares back at him.
Tommy looks away.
or, Tommy's ghost is stuck in the prison cell with Dream.
or or, ghostinnit fic for Tommy's deathiversary.