A Splash Of Paint (MCYT Oneshots)

Magicless (MCC 11 Violet Vampires)

(A/N: I woke up at 3 am for MCC 11 and it was so worth it. Imagine not believing in Violet Vampires supremacy smh. I think I'll make this into another book instead of continuing it here, mostly because I have Ideas of Plot, so I guess this is kind of like a snippet? Anyway wrote this for them, hope you enjoy!)

"And in second place, we have our dark horse, a team that has risen far past our expectations, and I'm sure all of us are excited to see what else they have. In second place, we have the Violet Vampires!"

The roar of the crowds drowned out any cussing Wilbur was doing with a bright grin on his face. Fundy forced a smile on his face as Tommy waved at the crowds excitedly, and Quackity started boasting, but in a way that made him seem endearing.

They received their congratulations with grace, before Fundy and Wilbur quickly ushered Tommy and Quackity to their room before they could talk to the other contestants. They said some bullshit about being tired and wanting to discuss gameplans, and luckily, no one called them out on their lie.

As soon as they were back in their room, Tommy let out a whoop.

"We did it!" he cried out. "We moved on to the semifinals of the talent show! All we have to do now is do good in the minigames, and we're set."

"This was such a bad idea," Fundy groaned, "We're so screwed."

"I hate this," Wilbur changed. "I hate this, I hate this so much."

Tommy and Quackity frowned at them.

"What's wrong?" Quackity asked. "I mean, we made it through. Everyone absolutely loves us and our dynamic. No one suspects that there's anything wrong with us. What's wrong?"

"Everything, what else!" Wilbur threw his hands up. "Quackity, Tommy, we are four magicless people in a complex surrounded by magical people, competing in a competition meant for magical people, and we've just been noticed as like, one of the Must Watch teams. And when people start to look at us, they'll be able to see the shit that we don't have. Like, oh, maybe magic?!"

"Don't say it out so loud!" Fundy nearly screeched.

"Oh well sorry for panicking when there's like an 80% chance we are going to be dead tomorrow!" Wilbur snapped back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tommy stepped in between them, looking at each of them nervously. "Okay, calm down, big Q do something!"

"I'm not risking getting my ass hurt, Tommy," Quackity responded, fully serious.

All three paused to stare at him in incredulity.

"...What?"

"I'm not even gonna bother responding to that," Fundy shook his head and sighed. "Look, okay, we need a game plan. I mean, how did we even get past the first round of the talent show in the first place?"

"If I remember correctly — which I barely do, I'm going off of what Tubbo rambled to me earlier, before the announcement of rankings —, Tommy-" and here Wilbur grimaced, face twisting up. "-Tommy somehow managed to trick the whole audience and the panel of judges into believing that we had actually conjured up a pack of cards out of thin air, when he literally did one of the most obvious sleight of hands I've ever seen, and just passed some cards to each of us."

"Well it worked, didn't it?!" Tommy defended himself.

"Yeah, it did," Wilbur sighed. "And now everyone's expecting a lot from us. Which we might not be able to deliver."

"Okay, let's not panic," Quackity said. "I mean, look at us. We're smart, we have more brain cells than at least 5 of the teams in here, we can figure something out."

"What the fuck does brain cells have to do with any of this?!"

"Wilbur, has anyone told you you're kind of a bitch?" Tommy asked.

As they were arguing, Fundy spotted a white object peeking out of one of their bags. Frowning, he went to go look at it.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered. He picked it up, and realised it was Tommy's 'vlog gun'.

"Tommy," he called. The youngest of them broke away from his argument with the other two to turn to him. Fundy raised the vlog gun up. "Why did you even bring this?"

Tommy flushed. "Well, I just brought it in case we needed to use it to shoot something. Stop looking at me like that Wilbur, I know you brought your guitar as well."

"Okay, fuck you-"

"We can work with this," Fundy said abruptly. "We can work with this!"

"What?" Quackity questioned.

"What the fuck are you planning to do with my vlog gun?" Tommy narrowed his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure floppy bullets won't be enough to tear through even a piece of paper, Fundy," Wilbur shot in dryly.

"No, no, no," Fundy insisted. "If we can get some sort of small but flammable material, stuff it in here, and sneakily light it on fire during the talent show, we can pretend we managed to get a plastic gun to become a flamethrower, without burning the plastic."

"You can't burn my gun, Fundy!" Tommy snapped.

"I know, I won't," Fundy assured the younger, already turning to dig in his bag for the flame-resistant spray can he had prepared in case Wilbur somehow decided to become 'possessed' and try to burn down everything again. "Trust me on this."

"Fundy, you're a genius!" Wilbur grinned. "Now all we have to do is fit a little bit of micro-tech in there to pretend we 'conjured' up floating targets, and we're set!"

"Wait, how are we getting those micro-tech again, Wilbur?" Tommy asked. The oldest of them opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again.

"I... have no idea," he admitted reluctantly.

"Don't worry Wilbur, because I have some," Quackity dug around in his jeans, before triumphantly presenting them with a few microchips on the palm of his hand. "Aren't I the best?"

"How did you get them?" Wilbur asked.

"I stole 'em, duh."

There was an awkward silence, before Tommy clapped his hands loudly. "Okay, great, we have a game plan! Now can we go down for dinner? I'm starving."