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plasticfangtastic · 10 months

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Can we Be Lonely Together? Ch.9

A Homelander X Staker! Reader fanfic

this is also a Supe! reader fic, GN neutral but male leaning in all honesty. Prev. chapters in the #my fic tag and #can we be lonely together? tag on me blog. this is a slow burn fic

Author's Note: might not be able to post the next ch. 'til next wk due to work and a dire need to work in my main WIP (so behind my writing goals for this project) might log on tumblr on a computer for once to just put a link of the prev. eps for the final chapter.

R18+ slow burn, smut, urolognia mention, Rape mention, gore, cannibalism, child abuse, child death, long chapter.

Chapter 9

We don't forget

Whether it was your first, first in a long time or last time– the way you held a cigarette in your hand appeared fitting, there was an air of misplaced elegance to your mannerisms… in the way your smoke drew cryptic symbols in the air.

Watching your hand was a lot more hypnotic than Homelander anticipated, it was an easy distraction from that thousand yard stare in your eyes.

He had seen that look once before.

He could smell that memory vividly, it had perturbed him the most– even if it shamed him to admit. The name and appearance had faded but he still remembered the silence, and those eyes. Even as he ripped hands clean off the wrist, there was no whine, no cry-- just a huff. As if whatever being that once lived inside this person had already departed long before Homelander had decided to entertain himself for the evening with these unlucky sods who decided to rob a store that autumn now leaving an empty husk. Homelander astounded as he peeled him clean, removing the jaw after breaking it in a dozen pieces, but the man simply failed to respond, gargling, and gasping as his lungs flooded, dying seconds after.

Panting, finding the foreign blood bitter on his tongue.

His eyes watched Homelander much like yours did now, your mouth ajar awaiting to put the lit cigarette in your lips once more.

You had died a long time ago… way before you ever met.

Homelander was simply a new bullet in a once empty gun.

You had become a walking corpse the moment he brought you inside his penthouse, you just kept imitating the living, he wondered if he would be in this place watching your hand just to avoid your creepy emptiness had he listened and kept his hands to himself, if he had let you choke on your blood that night instead of pursuing merriment.

In all certainty he was unsure as to why he allowed you to continue your “disposing”, he even got inside your vehicle as you drove to this dilapidated warehouse space that once inside hosted a pop-up restaurant, finding your vehicle so cramped but no amount of sass and complaining got your attention.

He should’ve stayed inside the car letting this take place somewhere else but Homelander followed after you– not wanting you to run away (not that you could ever get further enough) but it was the sentiment that would offend.

Dolores had jumped and picked a knife instinctively at the sight of him but the mortal deity simply glared and bore his fangs, making the cannibal turn meek, she stared at her knife that might as well have been made of glass– completely useless against Homelander. She shook her head and dropped it.

As soon as you deliver the goods and sat on the silver counter top to watch her work it was back to business, unlike you Dolores did threw poorly concealed worried glances at his direction, her heart rate severely elevated and her bladder building pressure down her nether regions but she continued to work, fearing their guest but ultimately committed to meeting her deadline.

At the sight of you, she offered an untouched box of cigarettes plus a glass of milk to their executioner– simply mentioning that his breath had a rich aroma of 2% milk, in fact she could smell it simmering in his stomach juices from when he had pour more milk on his tea and in his digestive track.

He sat on the bench beside you crossing his ankles awkwardly holding his cape on one hand, watching you drift away, watching as the chef prepped, covering what once had been his teammate in softened butter for dry-aging, you pointing at things and analyzing her techniques, re-assuring her that the menu was perfect, as she prepared sauces.

He was surprised when the spoon came to his face, a rich yuzu heavy reduction, he could feel the tang on the back of his throat– that had managed to spark some color in your eyes, your skin had become duller by the minute, but as his lips wrapped around the spoon he was glad to see some color on your chest, so he played along there was no need to argue with nutters.

In all truth the magic had faded, you had once been so beautiful but now he no longer recognized you, without the carefully constructed facade and manufactured responses, this was the real you… the real you was ugly. The way your eyes sank and your lips didn’t bother to take shape as you slurred your words depressed Homelander, he looked back at the kitchen. This was after all a funeral service for a lover… it had cost him dearly, something that would make him lose sleep one lonely night in the future, perhaps. As he watched you become pure misery, he had nothing nice to say about his own… Homelander was anguish and loneliness incarnate… pitiable if you dare, on the other side there was your misery and sequestration… but he couldn’t feel genuine empathy… none that he could believe.

Now he understood the morbid reasoning behind your attraction, you saw somebody who could understand what it was like to be born alone, that's why you seeked him so desperately, why you had lied to the point you’ve become a parody of what Homelander had always seeked.

“How did you end up like this? You know why I’m like this… you saw the videos.”

You bounce awake to the sound of his calm cadance, this was the tone he used with the press so often, it was upsetting knowing it was used against you.

Snuff.

All you could compare those videos was snuff, at any corner you expected him to be raped just to put the cherry on this yucky sundae. Certainly in all your years of life you had encountered horrific memories, private horrors, all manner of depravities and awful thoughts from the ones holding the knife and their human pin-cushion, all manner of creative abuse had crossed your mind unwillingly.

But they were strangers, not the man who put his gloved hand on your thigh.

A man’s voice jabbering on a shitty mic.

A little boy no much older than six.

A pool of boiling water.

Emerging covered in blisters and blind but neither disfigured nor dead, he would come to heal fully after a couple weeks.

Another man’s voice on a shitty mic.

Little boy is now eleven.

Welded restraints holding him placed on a thick concrete slab, on the other end an unmanned vehicle holding two crash test dummies.

Same little boy covered in rich purples and three busted cars getting dragged off screen, each one increasing in size-- a rubble of metallic matryoshkas.

Little boy cried until his voice had all but gone leaving a pained squeak.

By all accounts it was a miracle this little boy had grown relatively well adjusted, the other boy took it like a champ when John no longer could, that hateful glare that fit so well below his brow took the 4x4 head on.

Your least favorite was the first big test… the lung test. Just how long could a four year old hold his breath underwater?

“I was six when my powers manifested. I learned my school principal had a weird hobby of putting cameras on the little girls restroom– but ‘cuz I was a kid screaming about voices in my head nobody cared, thinking I had schizophrenia until my parents remembered they’ve given me Compound V. None believed me… until I showed them, and then they got mad at me because he was a good man– a church going man! He worked in charities, parents and kids alike loved him– it had to belong to somebody else!! So his daughter smashed my head with a stapler and called me a liar.”

You smiled at him with a smile that only existed beneath your nose.

“My parents abandoned me for three weeks just to get a break, the cool powers that would make them thousands, reflected back at them and spat venom… no Vought trainer could figure out why I couldn’t control it. I lost like 10 kilos in those three weeks ‘cuz I was nine and didn’t know how to cook. If I didn’t peek into my neighbors mind I wouldn’t have figured out how to use a can opener– mind you they locked me in the basement with just some cans, water and a bucket. I swear I can still smell my fermented shit.”

He offered the sauce spoon at you, watching you fail to register the labor behind the homemade spicy sauce.

“My foster parents… well… I ran away for a reason. Then I met… Kent, he told me after he freed me from my confines “Either cry or learn to be apathetic to the world” So I learned to stop caring… learned to know that nobody in the world would get what it was like to understand God”

Homelander raised his brow retreating the spoon away from you.

“He must be overwhelmed… to hear everyone's prayers, never knowing silence since he made us… I would stay away from us too if I could”

“You think you’re God?”

You scuffed taking a long puff.

“No? But I guess I understand him.”

A deity, he was perfection incarnate but as he stood staring down on earth holding his breath while strolling on the moon watching the bleached cloth that once copied the flag on his cape, the world had looked so beautiful– his eyes stung thinking of crying without permission, scratching a thin layer of frost off his chin as he rubbed his eyes just to stop himself, to Homelander God stayed silent so he could watch his creation in awe. The people made it ugly, but he had to admit it was beautiful, as he got closer the sounds returned but you couldn’t escape into space for some peace and quiet, only learning to silence it all to sleep without ripping your hair from exhaustion.

If Homelander had your powers he would be God… there would’ve never been a doubt in the heart of this man-made lab tulpa.

“Not with your paranoia”

“Learn to mind your business, darlin’” He pointed at you, almost growling.

You scuffed, a muted chuckle from between your teeth, sliding out the counter burning your cigarette on your thigh, not flinching as it burned.

He watched you march outside knowing he could catch up to you in a few seconds.

“When you kill Y/N would you let me cook her? Y/N said that I could use them to make our favorite dishes… it would mean a lot to us if you enjoyed the meal.”

Dolores spoke as she moved to an elephant– hanging by a hook was a carcass its feet bound and pierced by garish chrome, split in halves, emptied of organs and its skin flamed to remove unwanted hairs, head and genitalia had long been removed, no much resembled humanity beside its general shape, she carved using a deboning knife to remove one of the arms swiftly off its socket, the skin squelched letting go with a sticky sound– he pictured you like that.

He had hanged you, piercing your talons with a hook and gutting you clean, watching as your face hid behind the spilling mass of your lower intestines.

He hurled into his mouth.

“You’re sick” red flared in his eyes– "I'll kill you too, once you’re done gentrifying cannibalism with the rest of the Sawyer family!”

“One last service it is.”

He took off trying to hide the weird embarrassment from his reference, he had no energy for quips or sardonic wit.

He found you leaning against a metal pillar, you didn’t turn just focusing in the mind of a passerby, and the homeless living beneath in the pipes

“Together we could’ve been God made whole.”

His hands unusually wrapped around your hips, his gloves falling around your ankles resting his cheek against yours.

You turned your head slightly taking a deep whiff of his cologne-- he could smash your spine perfectly clean in this position.

“I complimented you?”

“Your powers didn’t upset me. I would be creeped out at first… weary for a long time but eventually… it would be nothing but another part of you… like the color of your eyes… proof that you belonged to the better group.”

His jaw clenched caught in the what if’s, running after a picture of a stranger than wasn’t either of them, the first time he’d read “Love in the time of cholera” he hadn’t understood the lead, but as he grew older, the more that lover one could long for fifty years became less of a stupid fixation for somebody to have but something relatable. Those women had been Madelyn and Maeve, but then you came.

A hope.

Hope that he didn’t need to long for anymore, here it was… it was you who had longed for him all this time before you ever saw him, he told himself that as he remembered the way you cuddled him in your sleep, your grip squeezing him with all your strength– you had been a warm blanket during winter, Homelander rested to the sound of your breathing both had held each other so desperately, the way your eyes stared at him as he bit half moons into your skin and all he received was caresses and kisses as if he was the one hurt.

Turning around to rest your head on his shoulders, poking your cheek against the golden eagles, you spoke.

The sound of a fish tank filter inundated his apartment. Most of the house is dark, unnevely illuminated by different sized fish tanks. We stared at each other from opposite sides of his kitchen, he had a nervous look in his eyes, all of his bravado had washed away as he gulped, he looked pale and ready to hurl, he was ready to piss and shit himself as one of his many amateur films played on my phone.

“You help me, or that ends up on the front page of every fucking porn site you can imagine. I would spam the fuck out of it on twitter… heck I’ll make it look like you posted it too, Kevin.”

He looked at me with very big eyes and stuttering lips.

“I need you to go to the archives and get me photos of these boxes… open them and take photos of the contents too” I slid him a piece of paper– you got ‘til the morning to get these files, or I’ll destroy you.”

“I know I put a lot of pressure to you at work but we can work this out—

His mind was incoherent, at this level of nerves there really was no point in unscrambling his thoughts, but I was impressed nonetheless by his capacity to try to negotiate with this sinking ship.

“Listen, I like my job… I’m not doing this because I hate you– I’m doing this because I have the most shit on you, and you’re a member of The Seven meaning you have access to areas of the building I don’t. Nobody will think there’s anything weird if the head of Crime Analytics goes into the archives, either. I’m just threatening you ‘cuz you do overwork me, you owe me overtime and you can finally be useful at your job. So after this is done, I’ll delete all copies of the video and make sure my associates do so as well… it's not like you can kill me.”

He looked at the slip.

“What is it?”

He knew very well that you and I had something going on based on your past lil’ requests, Homelander. He was smart enough to know not to touch or it would be his head on a spike.

“This is in the lab's archive! They might think– he continued asking.

“Not my problem. Just don’t let Homelander get a whiff of this… or he’ll kill you too. Fuck he might flatten all of New York afterwards”

That got his attention real bad, his nerves scrambling his mind further; his mind might as well have been eggs in a microwave .

“Wait, what does Homelander have to do with this!?”

“The less you know the safer you are.”

He believed me, when it came to you he wouldn’t doubt it was dangerous for his health.

“How do I know you’ll delete the video… not going to ask how you got it… you hacked my phone, no?”

“Make sure to change your password on a regular basis.”

We didn’t make any eye contact as I left, I heard him scrunch up the piece of paper and then scream and trash his kitchen after I closed the door.

I left, you’ve returned to the tower suspecting nothing. You noted there was something keeping me quiet, and blamed it on well… dinner.

You did your best to get me talking that night, but I barely gave you attention, my mind and heart heavy, you thinking it was ‘cuz somehow I’ve figured out you been getting your dick wet with Firecracker pussy, which was true but unrelated at the time– while you been bumping uglies with your new fangirl did peeved me, I wasn’t concerned. She was just another looney looking for good PR and cheap ways for advancing her career, she was pretty, energetic, had a great personality and great tits so obviously the heads at Vought and the public would think you two would look cute… compared to me… but she wouldn’t handle you. Sure right now you were sweet, but you had vices and soon she would’ve stopped being enthusiastic about your fetishes… I knew for a fact she would never tolerate your piss kink… that unexplained excitement that degrading without violence gifted you, I knew she wouldn’t return your wet play with frothing quivering delight– would you clean her afterwards, either? As you filled her asshole and forced her to hold it inside while you wanked and glazed her hole.

I knew she would not take kindly to your paintings sessions either, her reaction would be insincere she had no capacity to smile for you when you’re pinching so hard it almost tears the skin just stopping short of drawing blood looking back to make sure she wouldn’t hate you, she wouldn’t pull your hair and demand your kisses, would she? Would she’ve asked you to continue with your olive clouds?

Maybe Firecracker would enjoy your oral fixations ‘cuz who doesn’t enjoy orgasming seven to ten times in an hour as you slurped on her juices greedily as if it was god’s own ambrosia, who wouldn't like feeling their brain shut down from ecstasy so good it tote the line into agony, who wouldn’t love kissing until jaws grew sore, would she find herself coveting your spit? or your loving demands to have her suck at your tongue?

But she wouldn’t last, it would never be love… for I knew you.

So eventually it would end.

And you wouldn’t want it to end.

For her skin wasn’t made of tissue paper.

She wasn’t lying to you about being a super. I was. So I deserved it, for lying… apparently.

Firecracker would run in her mind but you put your chains on her.

I wasn’t all that narcissistic to think I was that special to you… but it stung… it stung regardless.

But I am patient if anything, and unlike her I was here making you dinner and helping your son with his Homework, I was here under the blankets watching you read while I was on my phone reading your reviews– you could be so witty, you had over 2 thousand followers and so many reviews to keep me occupied.

That next day I met with Kevin, the office was empty and my excuse was that I had work piled up.

“What did you ask me to get you!?”

It caught my surprise to see a small jar placed on my desk, it was labeled carefully with a bunch of numbers, and inside its cylinder was the remnants of a hand.

I picked it up, opening my laptop to match the numbers to my files.

“That’s a kid's hand!”

“I can see that… that’s the hand of a three year old Jane Doe. Look Deep… if you had any shred of human decency left in you, I could trust you with that information but you're a coward. Not to mention that I don’t want to let Homelander kill you, not because I care but I feel like I should be the one to kill you… now give me the rest okay! And pay me my fucking overtime.”

He slid me a go pro and a phone, I showed him the file being deleted and me severing the backdoor connection I had with his phone.

“I might need you to go back and get me some of those documents.”

“You said–

“What? Do you think I only had one video of your romantic escapades?”

He had nothing to say, just a squeaky fist in return.

“I’m going to be in trouble aren’t I? Regardless of what you said I will get it up my ass at the end.”

“If I was you I would memorize the evacuation plan for the Tower, and avoid leaving via helicopter. If it's any consolation it would be me who dies first altho… do you think of yourself as a hero? Like do you ever feel like doing the right thing for once in your life?”

I don't know what possessed me but I had a lightbulb moment.

“I am a superhero.”

He was genuinely insulted.

“Then mister superhero… there's something else you can help me with…”

I made sure to have a perfect excuse, you were in the honeymoon stage of your affair so it wasn’t too difficult for you to ignore the red flags. If anything I gave you a free pass for the day.

The Deep was surprisingly a good driver, he also had the manners to stay quiet and simply follow the map without small talk, any attempt to do so barely got a response from me and at least the music helped with the awkward tension, at this point I figured soon I couldn't bullshit much further.

So yes… I told him before I told you.

“This is ‘Sage Grove Centre’…? Why are we in a loony bin? What does that have to do with the dead bodies!?”

He was hungry for information, so I spilled the beans… It felt good letting it out.

“... about fifteen years ago… Homelander surprised everybody by proving that he wasn’t completely infertile… and ever since Vought has kept an eye on all of his laids… they had wanted to recreate him for years as you know Homelander is… a loose cannon. So their attention turned to his offspring, and out of the eight kids he has made only one of them is alive… Ryan Butcher. That hand belonged to Eun-Ji K. who a month after her birth went missing alongside her mother, Eun-Ji was a natural born supe… but unlike her dad, she didn’t have completely impenetrable skin… Do you want me to spare you the details of how she lost that hand?”

He thought of the box, of the small sample vials and jars, of the gruesome photos of small corpses, he had puked almost immediately.

“Then there was Simon P. who survived testing ‘til the age of three… Aaliyah T. who survived ‘til ten. Robert and Roberta C. who survive to the ages of four and three respectively and Miguel S. who survived ‘til the age of five. Miguel was alive two years ago… they kept some of them in similar sound stages… his eldest weren’t so fortunate, but unlike Ryan’s mother… The other moms were more than happy to begin testing the moment their kids showed signs of having powers or weren't around to complain, so they did the same experiments.”

I looked at him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“Now as I dug around to find more about his dead family and his history… I noticed something interesting… Homelander has health insurance– makes sense you have to have mandatory health insurance for certain jobs… so it didn’t bother me, until I read into his policies and I wondered: Why does a man with a perfect 20/20 vision pay for extras such as optical? not to mention dental… he does get his teeth whiten often but… when did he ever get a wisdom tooth removed?”

Kevin’s eyebrows touched clearly intrigued.

“So I keep digging… and a lot of those glasses went to a patient in this facility… a fifty-four year old Jane Doe… she had been taken into Sage Grove thirty-nine years ago with a diagnosis of PTSD, and severe panic disorder. They noted the patient had suffered past psychotic episodes where they had harmed themselves and others for she had no tongue… They suspected she was a drug addict which would explain her wounds and disorders, but more suspiciously somebody had paid for her to stay there… and still do… for the last twenty-one years Homelander has been unaware he’s been paying for this Jane Done. I suspect that this Jane Doe is Ms. Gillman… his mother.”

I looked at my phone showing The Deep a picture of your mother, it was still grainy but there it was a young girl barely into puberty that once had been a prospective gymnast from a shitty family.

“I’m so fucking dead.” he said.

Homelander unwrapped his arm, his gaze staring at nothing spitting short lived puff, gasping just to shake off the matching twist in his stomach and throat.

The city had become so lively, it was electrifying, an abuse of all his senses, turning once more to face you, a red glow coming from half-shut eyes as he shook them off fighting the urge to finish you once and for all, your face should had been nothing but heated mince on the pavements the moment you handed Firecracker to your accomplice.

Comfort.

He yearned for comfort so your hands made sure to hold him even if he tried to push you.

The city was so lively, it drowned him.

Your love was unwanted but he couldn't shake you off, the world had ceased to make sense.

One could only compartmentalize so much.

“Can you erase my memories?” He asked softly, his voice not a decibel over a murmur– all of it…?”

Homelander cupped your cheek, his mouth humored a smile but it was forced, desperate to provide the illusion that he wasn’t crumbling inside, He chuffed trembling as you both looked at each other, your hand held his straight.

“I don’t want to know anymore… I don’t want to know… I want to pretend the last three days have been a bad dream. We can stay the way we always were. Sure I’ll be confused about Firecracker– but who cares!? There’s a hundred other broads that can take her spot…”

He brushed your hair off your face while his felt apart around his temples, his whole body shuddering.

“It could kill me and not work… but it could hurt you… hurt you a lot.”

“Try… I… I want everything to be the same as it was three days ago… my love… I can’t.”

“Mi sol.”

#homelander #homelander fanfic #homelander x you #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #personal #my fic tag #can we be lonely together?#I'm ESL so sorry 'bout grammar.#endign slowly approaching #hope yall like it #dark fic

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pterodactylterrace · 2 years

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Dating Paul Bullion

Because BOY HOWDY do I have thoughts about dating this man!

He will send you a picture of every dog he sees.

When he is filming for the Witcher, you get multiple pictures of Kal every day.

You will never understand his need to get up at stupid o’clock for his first workout of the day.

It makes him happy, though, so you just burrow further into the warm spot he left behind and go back to sleep.

Plus the physique that comes from his fitness dedication is a nice bonus.

He seems almost magnetically drawn to you.

Sitting quietly on the couch? BAM! Giant ginger suddenly pressed against you.

Cooking dinner? Better not bend down or his giant hand will be all over your ass and you’ll end up burning the food. Again.

The house is always filled with music.

Either coming from a speaker, or Paul just belting out whatever comes to him.

You never knew just how handy he was until you moved in with him.

One day you were climbing the pantry shelves because your boyfriend is 6’3 and hasn’t seemed to realize that the top shelf of all but useless to you.

The shelf you were standing in gave way beneath you, sending you sprawling onto your ass on the ground, various shelf stable foods littering the ground around you.

He ran across the house to you when he heard the crash and was kneeling at your side with hover hands before you even registered what happened.

You braced yourself for a lecture, so sure he was going to be upset with you for ignoring his constant requests to ask him for help instead of climbing.

But once he realizes the tears are because you’re upset and not from physical pain, he gathers you up in his arms and plants the pair of you on the couch for the rest of the day.

The shelf is repaired the next day before you even get home, and you tear up a little when you see a step stool made of the same wood as the new shelf.

Neither of you ever showers alone if the other is home.

Not even always a sex thing, more just an intimacy thing.

It used to freak you out, having your privacy invaded by a giant ginger pushing the curtain aside and climbing in with you.

Don’t get me wrong, he’d seen you naked several times before, but he’d never seen you like this.

Naked, looking like a drowned rat with half your bush shaved. You couldn’t bring yourself to resume your shower yoga to properly shave your junk, so you just pretend you meant to only shave one labia and half your mound.

One week, and seven ginger invaded showers later, you gave up on being able to sneak shave.

You sort of expect him to cut his shower short when you start positioning yourself in the odd poses required to shave everything. Instead he drops to his knees in front of you, taking the razor from you like it was the normal thing to do and just takes over for you.

He dutifully removes all the hair from your nethers, pulling the shower head down for a more through rinse. The little shit knows exactly what he’s doing when he aims the jet at your clit.

He waits just long enough to make his intentions clear before abandoning the shower head and diving in with his mouth instead.

You develop a nightly routine of sorts after a while when he is home in the evenings. You’d both laze around on the couch, your legs often thrown over his lap while he absently massaged your calves and feet.

At some point you always end up falling asleep, and yet you always wake up in bed.

And nothing can compare to the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms at night, safe and sound as you dream away.

Taglist:

Tags: @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43 @cavillsthighs @poledancingdinos @pretty-toxic-revolver @oh-for-fic-sake @geralt-of-baevia @littleone65 @littlefreya @eldarwen333 @sillyrabbit81 @beck07990 @pandaxnienke @marytudorbrandon @identity2212 @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @stardusted26 @cardierreh15

#Paul Bullion #Paul Bullion head cannon #Paul Bullion headcannon

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stackofeggs · 4 years

Photo

okok, so hear me out guys. but consider: gilded blackstone color palette is very pretty. also consider: an excuse to draw nice suits (and mumbo) (and the impracticality of it in hot places)

#very lazy drawing BUT imagine it please #im losing my mind thinking of the pretty palette #ALSO the hyphae in the warped forest?#THE COLORS SLAP. 1.16 IS GOOD ACTUALLY #mumbo jumbo #mumbo #hermitcraft #minecraft #nether update #1.16 update #YES i want people 2 see this shhh #thank u mumbo for being my muse #that's redstone btw #egg's carton #img id in captions!#ok jm going to bed its 12 am #nether fits #NETHER FITS NEW TAG

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clevercorvidae · 3 years

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I remember when I first watched through Ranboo’s grand total of three videos at the time. I loved his skin and content and I went into the tag on here to see only like 3 total fan arts.

I remember each milestone he hit and how insane it was becoming. I remember watching him get stuck in the nether with Niki and everyone on here joking about it.

I remember the spinning chair video and the chika dance and the old Ranboo art that featured no crown. I remember Walmart Technoblade

I remember when we first learned he had a tumblr. When we first REALLY learned about it, before he was on the Dream SMP. The frenzy was smaller then.

I remember the day he was added the smp, how before that everyone was making half jokes about how good a fit he’d make. I remember the discourse around him being theorized to be Techno’s son. I remember how I thought we’d never get a plot where the two of them had much screen time together.

I remember when the preferred duos for Ranboo were with Fundy and Niki. How they had a sibling relationship. I remember misferns and how Eret at one point offered to adopt Ranboo. Nobody else seems to remember that though.

I remember the first awkward meetings of Ranboo with Tubbo and Tommy. I remember specifically, Tubbo blocking Ranboo on Twitter and, when he joined the smp, I honestly thought he had better chemistry with Tommy than with Tubbo. Turns out I’m stupid.

I remember the first time Dream’s voice showed up in the panic room. How we all liveblogged our foreign fear. Ranboo’s lore had been…minimal till that point to say the least and none of us were prepared for it when it came.

I’m really glad I was there for all of it. Not to say that fans who joined later are less valid but…it really was such a strange experience. To watch a small relatively unknown mcyt grow at such a rate was insane. And now, less than a year later, I can go into the Ranboo tag and there’s a new post seemingly every ten seconds.

#mcyt #dream smp #ranboo #mcytblr #mcytblr nostalgia #we’re all on about our nostalgia #here’s mine #there aren’t many here who remember the very very beginning of ranblr

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finn-ray-nal-beads · 3 years

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A Tight Squeeze

A/N: You all can blame @contesa-lui-alucard for this monstrosity... I literally am in love with this character now and I will never stop... I slept on him SO hard and I REGRET IT! Thank you for the inspiration and this fic is so self indulgent I wish Pat was my true baby daddy... Enjoy loves!🖤

Warnings: tw: pregnancy, tw: pregnancy kink, obscene amounts of marital fluff and love, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, tw: doggystyle, tw: very slight edging, tw: body image, tw: slight depression (regarding body image and self esteem), lots of fluff (because Pat is fluffy), tw: daddy kink, tw: hair pulling, creampies (I mean when am I NOT doing a creampie?) a smidgen of Dom!Pat because I CANNOT control myself

(PLZfor the love of Satan lmk if I miss a tag or TW... I am only human and I make errors all the time)

“Goddammit!” you practically cried, seeing the thousandth piece of clothing you owned barely fitting around your new curves. The look of defeat and sorrow running across your pretty face from the mirror as you twisted and turned to somehow wish the new poundage away.

“Honey?” a sheepish voice called from the kitchen in your quaint home, his heavy footfalls coming steadily as he padded back to your bathroom.

His precious features gracing the floor-length mirror as he crowded the edge of the molding on the frame of the closet.

He gasped slightly, surveying the scene before him. His cock stirred in his jeans as he appraised your body, the new planes from the growing baby inside you making you glow with an effervescence he had never seen before.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he caught his breath, your tits plunging out of the small tank top, bouncing as you frustratingly tried to pull it over your growing bump, to no avail as the bottom half and your belly button poked from under the hemline.

The leggings barely fitting on your thighs as they clutched onto your globe of an ass. He wished on all the stars that you couldn’t fit into your underwear and had forgone them all together so he could rip the seam and go to town on your backside.

“Pat,” you whined his name, running your hands over your belly, clearly upset you had a dwindling wardrobe as the days progressed.

“I need to get some new stuff honey,” your pretty lips going into a full pout as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You never had any reason to feel as unattractive as you had just now. He had never given you any indication he didn’t think you were the most beautiful creature on this planet. In fact, when he and you had found out about the baby, he was completely overjoyed and more touchy than he had ever been in the years he’d been married to you.

His feral instincts had kicked into hyperdrive when he became a father-to-be. Making sure you were well taken care of in all aspects including but not limited to cleaning, cooking, foot rubs, nightly baths, and of course reading poetry to you and your unborn son as he grew bigger and bigger.

He loved every detail of it. The gross and good parts, and ebbed and flowed with every single mood swing and nauseous feeling you had. He was the perfect husband, and here he was, looking at you as if you were the most gorgeous goddess he had ever seen. In fact, you were to him, no matter how many times he had been in utter disbelieve that you gave him the time of day let alone let him fuck you three or more times a day.

“Okay baby,” he cooed, coming over to wrap you in the biggest hug he could, rubbing your back as you sobbed over this minor detail in your pregnancy.

He hushed and rocked you, petting your hair, while you inhaled his fresh scent, rubbing your face in his cotton t-shirt as he whispered the sweetest nothings into your ear.

“It’s gonna be okay honey,” he murmured, “you still look absolutely perfect to me my sweet love,” the words making you tear up even more as he kept with his praises.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” his chorus kept going, the baby suddenly joining in the party as he kept talking, “we both think you are, mama,” the sobs catching in your throat as your son kicked a series in your stomach, his low baritone only encouraging the movements as he kept on.

“In fact, I think mama could use a nice bath and something sweet to eat… What do you think?” he arched back to see your head pop up from its place, his precious smirk making you smile with glassy eyes while you nodded.

“That’s exactly what I think too,” kissing your forehead with the lightest effort, “okay, go get out of these, and I’ll get it going for you, deal?” his eyebrows raised as he ran a hand over the expanse of your bump, cradling underneath while you wiped your cheeks off with your hands.

He kissed over your face before heading to the bathroom to run the tub, the lavender scent emanating as the water filled the basin.

You struggled out of your clothing, cursing the companies who made your clothes as you did so. You felt like burning them in a fire or ripping them to shreds but settled on maturity rather than violence as the clothes weren’t the issue.

Your body ached from the weight of everything. The baby of course wasn’t your average-sized fetus, being that his father was a whopper when he was born. You never assumed, however, that he could be as heavy as he felt the more he grew inside you. And you also didn’t take into account the toll his size would take on yourself as the months dragged on. But willful ignorance is what you went with, and with that came karma in its truest form.

No matter how much you hurt and complained, you loved your boys, size and all, and you knew you wouldn’t do this for any man except for your precious Pat.

He was truly just the best partner in every sense of the word. And this simple gesture of making sure you practiced some self-care was his way, amongst many, of showing you how much he appreciated the sacrifices you were making for him and your growing family.

You waded into the steaming water, the enveloping hug of warmth shrouding your emotional state into numbness as the floral notes caressed your senses. This was heavenly, you thought, submerging your body as far as possible into the water, the top of your belly poking out like a small island in the ocean as you relaxed.

You closed your eyes, trying to take in the serenity, rubbing slow circles on the sides of your taut stomach as the baby relaxed within you.

Your meditation was so deep after a few minutes, you never heard Pat come in to check on you.

His hand found the exposed skin, calloused fingers enveloping it in a heated touch as he whispered to you, “how are we doing now mama?” he cooed, his soft smile in the warm light bringing you to tears again.

He was the sweetest thing on this planet. You hoped to any entity that was listening that your son had his perfect features. Those golden eyes, his soft lips, the freckles that speckled his body, his calm demeanor.

“Better,” you whispered back, unconsciously pushing your body into his touch, “thank you, daddy,” smiling at his sweet face.

“Good,” holding his gaze for a moment to peer at your perfection for just a second longer, his smile widening as yours did too.

“When you’re ready to get out I’ll help you get all lotioned and dressed… I’ve got one of my shirts and sweats out for you babe,” his lips pressing against your forehead again as you exhaled a relieved sigh.

“We’ll go get you some new stuff in the morning,” rubbing the top of your bump as you smiled brighter and brighter, “that okay?”

You nodded, peacefully, not wanting him to leave this spot until you were finished.

___________________

You spent about twenty more minutes in there until the water became too cold, his cue to get you and little man from the tub.

He helped you get dried off, making sure to gingerly rub your skin before grabbing the lotion from the cabinet. He knew you liked the lavender scent, so he had picked up a bottle when he was at the store earlier in the month. The fact that it was just about gone being an indication of a good purchase on his part.

He rubbed your relaxed muscles, making sure to massage the cream into every crack and crevice he could reach for you, the primal instincts rising within as he ran his hands over the curves and dimples on your skin.

He tried to shake the thoughts, thinking of the task at hand, but being hopelessly derailed after you let out the fifth or sixth moan in pure bliss.

He snapped then, the ambient lighting in the room looking so good on your naked body as you laid out perched in the best way for him.

“Pat?” his sudden stop causing you to look up from your spot, the pillows you had stacked so you were comfortable during his massage able to push you to see his looming body over your belly.

“What’s wrong honey?” gazing at him in the warm light, his hair tousled from the work he had been doing, his lips quivering as he gulped a dry swallow upon seeing your eyes meet his.

“I need you to get on your hands and knees and arch that perfect back of yours before I paint my jeans,” his tone deep enough to cause a stir in your nether regions.

Your eyes dilating immediately upon his sudden domineering behavior, “like this baby?” you made a show out of it all, wiggling your ass as you crawled up the bed, gripping the sheets in both hands as your back arched just the way he liked it.

“Such a good fucking mama,” he cooed, the sounds of his pants unzipping and the clang of them on the floor, coupled by the bed creaking slightly from his weight on the edge, “back up to me honey,” his hands gripping the sides of your hips as he helped you ease your body to meet his.

His tip barely touching your ass, causing a hiss to leave his chest, and a moan to leave yours upon feeling his pubic hair graze your mound.

“I’m gonna destroy this pussy of mine,” he growled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as he grabbed and rubbed his tip in your wet folds, “fuck this wet little pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” gritting as your hole sucked the head in, your warmth coating it so perfectly.

“Fuck Pat,” you whined, his hold on your hips bruising as he stilled his tip for a moment or two before sheathing it to its base, “y-you’re s-so f-fucking b-bi,” not able to even finish as he plunged even further, pushing your hips so you both let out a chorus of groans.

“Y-you t-take t-this b-big c-cock of m-mine s-so w-well m-mama,” he gasped out, picking up his pace as he fucked further and further into you, his hand pressing into your lower back as you arched more and more.

“I-I’m s-such a g-good g-girl,” you mused back, “I-I l-love p-pleasing m-my b-baby,” feeling his dick harden even more in your squelching cunt as he plummeted further into your hole.

“S-such a g-good g-girl,” he recanted, “k-keeping m-my c-cum s-so g-good,” speeding up even further, your moans picking up as he found your G-spot.

“Y-you l-love b-being all f-full of m-me,” the slaps of sweaty skin and balls hammering the room as the moans turned into feral screams.

“I-I l-love c-carrying y-your b-baby P-Pat,” the tears streaming as you felt the shroud of warmth begin to expand from your cunt to the rest of your body.

“T-that’s f-fucking r-right y-you d-do,” he growled, his teeth snarling as the sweat dripped in a waterfall from his short locks, the songs of your cries opening his senses to overdrive as he watched you writhe under him.

“Y-you c-cum on t-this m-monster c-cock of y-yours,” he grunted, feeling your walls vibrate around him and your screams emanate. As a last-ditch effort, he moved his hand on your back to grab your messy bun, pulling the hair to cement your rapture.

“F-fuck P-Pat!” you came, and you came hard. The damn breaking to coat his dick in your sweet sticky release wave upon wave, the wet sounds sending him over the edge as he pummeled the last of his efforts into your spent pussy.

He grit his teeth again, pushing in two more times before emptying his large load into your occupied cunt, the overload spilling out in a thick mixture while he pumped lazily in and out, musing at the sight.

He pulled out slowly, holding your hips so you could relax a little bit before guiding you to the side and surrounding your body with an abundance of pillows once more.

“So much for a bath,” you sighed and laughed, fanning yourself in a sweaty haze.

“I’m sorry honey,” he chuckled too, grabbing a towel to wipe you and then himself off, “I wasn’t even thinking about it… I just got too riled up from the clothes you were wearing earlier, and I…” he trailed off, watching a smile creep over your face as he talked.

“Really?” your curiosity getting the better of you, “you liked me in those clothes?”

“Ummm,” he sheepishly blushed, “y-yes?” itching the back of his head trying to avoid any eye contact with you.

“Well....” you adjusted as the baby began to make himself known for the night, “I guess I know what I need to do in the future,” winking as he found the other side of the bed, curling up to run his hand over your belly.

“Honey,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be doing anything for me to get turned on by you… I’m just in love with you either way,” his admission making you misty-eyed while you felt his light touches on your skin.

“But I have to admit… I really like this kind of look on you,” gesturing to all of your figure from head to toe.

“Well, you made me this way,” inching in to kiss his plush lips, him returning as you both pecked each other for a few seconds.

“I’ll keep you this way if you want me to,” his voice barely loud enough for you to hear, “keep you all knocked up and gorgeous for as long as you let me,” his words going straight to your cunt again as he kissed you again and again.

“As many times as you wish… Daddy,” winking and kissing him deeply, a smile inching over his lips as yours met.

“I love you,” his faint words cutting into your soul as if he was saying it for the first time.

“I love you,” returning it with a smile and a nuzzle into his neck as you began to drift off together in sticky paradise.

___________

Well... What did we all learn today? That I have a total fucking issue with not being his baby mama and that I have staples that I stick to and will not waiver from in my deepest darkest fantasies... Goodnight everyone I love you and I'll be crawling back into my festering hole to think about what I have done.

Oneshot Taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @thepalaceofmelanie, @hopeamarsu, @caillea, @historyandfandoms50, @mariesackler, @millenialcatlady, @thepriceofstars, @roanniom, @kathorax, @driversmutbucket, @clydes-hole, @xxcatrenxx, @paper-n-ashes

(Plz lmk if you would love to be added/removed from the taglist... Thank you all for the love and the support for this absolute garbage)

#paterson #paterson x reader #paterson x you #paterson fluff #paterson smut #tw: pregnancy #tw: breeding #tw: daddy kink #tw: unprotected sex #tw: hair pulling #tw: edging #tw: pregnancy kink #tw: body image #tw: self esteem issues #tw: slight depression #Dom!Pat

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evienyx · 3 years

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DSMP Citizens POV 6: The Greater SMP Shoemaker

No dsmpsona this time, but actually inspired by a tag from a reblog of the first of these POVs, which gave the idea of a citizen who has a crush on one of the main cast. I went really into it with this one, but I hope you enjoy, nonetheless.

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DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

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In a land of creation and destruction, of magic and myth, there were a surprising lack of places where one could get good clothes. The Dream SMP server didn't have the sort of large shopping complexes that servers like Hypixel did. Smaller businesses were built up, and even then they would mostly focus on actual clothing. There wasn't really many places for someone to buy shoes.

That was where the Greater SMP Shoemaker came in.

The Shoemaker, Reese, to those who were closest with them, had moved to the server after the L'Manburg Revolution, about a week before the election, and they had quickly seen an opportunity.

"You're gonna make shoes?" Their friend, a resident of L'Manburg and the one who had given them the idea to move here in the first place, asked, sounding rather skeptical.

"Indeed I am," the Shoemaker confirmed.

"Where? L'Manburg?"

"Already a shoe shop there. No, I'm gonna be making mine in the Greater SMP," the Shoemaker said.

Their friend raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Good luck with the politics, Reese. The king over there was just put in by Dream. At least we're having an election."

Then, a week later, the election ended in a near-dictatorship and a fledgling rebellion, and the Shoemaker was perfectly happy as their request for a plot of land was confirmed and they set to work building up their shop.

Two weeks later, their friend in L'Manburg was gone, joining up with Pogtopia and complaining about raised taxes all the while, and Reese opened their doors to the public for the first time, the advertisements for their shop having been hung around the day before.

Business picked up quickly, and it worked out well. No one wanted to go into (L')Manburg at the moment, what with President Schlatt declaring himself Emperor, and the L'Manburg Shoe Shop had closed already anyway as the workers ran off to join the rebellion as well.

The Shoemaker went through their days enjoying what they were doing, creating shoes from materials that they bought from nearby businesses or that they found themself, waiting until they heard the chime of the bell at the door signaling a customer.

About a month after they opened, just after the execution of a teenager, the bell rang out through the shop, and Reese stood from where they sat sketching out a new shoe design in the back room to enter the main part of the shop.

"Welcome to the Greater SMP Shoe Shop," they said, wiping their hands on a towel to get paint off. "How may I help you?"

The Shoemaker looked up and froze as their eyes landed on King Eret, the monarch in charge of the Greater SMP.

"Your Majesty," Reese managed to say, bowing their head in respect. "My apologies. I... didn't know you were coming, today."

King Eret smiled, her teeth sparkling in the light flowing from the window, rays of sun dancing across her sunglasses. "No need to apologize," he said. "I tend to drop in quite unannounced. I suppose I should be the one apologizing to you. I simply had heard that you opened recently, and I wanted to come check it out."

Reese's face was slightly warm as they stammered out, "Well, uh, welcome to the Greater SMP Shoe Shop. Feel free to browse around, and if you have any questions go right ahead and ask 'em."

King Eret nodded and stepped farther into the shop, their cloak billowing around them. The Shoemaker did their very best to keep their eyes firmly on anything but the monarch slowly making his way through their humble store.

They managed to engross themself in a book they had stuffed under the counter a few days ago, one that a friend of theirs had gifted them, and were halfway through the first chapter when King Eret's voice shook them from their stupor.

"Do you custom orders?" She asked, turning her head to face the Shoemaker. Reese was sure that, behind the sunglasses, the king's gaze was right on them. After a moment, they nodded.

"I do. It's an extra fee, of course, but I've custom-made quite a few pairs of shoes."

King Eret grinned. "Cool. How would I go about ordering those?"

"Uh..." The Shoemaker ducked down and grabbed a notebook from under the counter. "We'd need to make an appointment. I already have one scheduled for today, and I only do one per day, but I'm sure I can call them and ask them to move-"

"No, no, it's all right," King Eret said, waving their hand. "I can wait. When's the next available spot?"

"In three days. We could do around noon? I'm normally rather slow at that time."

"Noon in three days' time, got it," King Eret said. He moved toward the door. As her hand landed on the doorknob, she turned her head to offer another smile. "Thank you. Have a good day, Shoemaker." Then, without another word, they opened the door, stepped outside, and were gone.

Reese realized twenty minutes later as they were sitting their customer down for the scheduled fitting that their face was still warm.

King Eret returned a few minutes before noon three days after the Shoemaker had last seen him.

"Apologies for being early," the monarch said, this time accompanied by two guards on either side. "I thought it better than being late."

Reese nodded, feeling the heat rising in their face again. "Come in, come in."

King Eret waved a hand and the guards stationed themselves outside of the door, standing at the ready. The Shoemaker held the door open for the king, who stepped inside with so much grace that Reese wondered if the monarch was simply floating.

"Right this way, your grace." Reese led King Eret into the back room, their hands shaking just a bit as they pulled back a chair that they had specifically purchased from a carpenter the day before in order to have a nice, new, cushioned one ready for the leader of the Greater SMP. "Have a seat."

King Eret swept down into the seat, their ankles crossed and hands folded on their lap. The Shoemaker bit their tongue, grabbed their measuring tools, slipped on their glasses, and tried their very best not to think about how goddamn pretty the king was.

A few minutes passed, Reese falling into a stupor as they did the measurements the same way that they did every day.

"You're very good at this," King Eret said, shocking the Shoemaker from their daze. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Uh..." Reese pushed their glasses up their nose. "About thirteen years. I learned when I was a kid."

The king hummed. "Why did you learn?"

The Greater SMP Shoemaker stilled for a moment before they said, "My father was a shoemaker. With him gone, I... I learned so that I could be closer to him."

King Eret was silent, a few seconds passing, before he asked, "Did something happen to him, if you don't mind me asking?"

Reese felt their eyes stinging, and their hands stopped moving. They blinked, and a tissue was hanging in front of their face.

"I'm sorry," King Eret said, her hand offering the tissue to them. "I didn't mean to pry. I've... never been the best with talking to people."

Reese took the tissue, wiped their eyes, and swallowed hard. "No need to apologize, your Majesty. I can tell you if you wish to know-"

A finger was held to their lips and they choked on their words. "No, of course not. I would never ask you to share something that you are so clearly uncomfortable with." King Eret furrowed his brow. "What's your name? I never caught it."

The Shoemaker wet their lips before saying, "I'm Reese, your grace."

"Nice to meet you, Reese," the king said, a smile quirking on their lips. "My name is Eret, though I suppose you already knew that."

A laugh bubbled out from the Greater SMP Shoemaker's throat and they nodded, spinning around in their chair to reach over to the notebook lying open on the table and jot a number down.

The shoes that the king requested, custom-made ;leather boots with heels so tall that Reese didn't even think that they themself would be able to stand up in them even if they tried, had to be sketched out before anything further than measurements could begin, as the Shoemaker had absolutely nothing to go off of.

"The design should be ready within the week," Reese said, standing up with the king as the appointment finished. "I can send them to the palace for you, if you'd like?"

King Eret shook their head. "I can come in to see them, if you'd be available, then? It would be easier for the both of us, I'm sure."

The Shoemaker stilled before nodding quickly. "Of course, your grace. Whatever is best for you."

The king smiled, but she cocked an eyebrow. Still, he didn't elaborate on whatever it was that he was clearly thinking, and so Reese did not question it.

As the week passed, the Shoemaker found themself often drifting off in thought, ticking off the days until their next scheduled meeting with the king.

"Holy shit," King Eret said, a grin that looked involuntary on his face. They adjusted the sunglasses that rested over their eyes as they leaned over the counter to admire the designs that Reese had sketched out. "These are incredible." The king looked up at the Shoemaker and asked, "Why did you make more than one?"

Reese, their face tingling, shrugged vaguely. "Uh, options?"

King Eret laughed, the sound deep and swelling, echoing around the room. "Well, either way, you're very talented. These are all beautiful."

The Shoemaker was sure that their face was a brighter red than crimson forests of the nether. "Thank...Thank you, your grace. That means... far more than you could know."

"Of course, Shoemaker Reese," King Eret said. "I've told enough lies in my life. No reason to do so now."

It took Reese just under two weeks to finish the boots. They worked on them during their free time in the day, and then toiled on them into the night as well.

"You can take a break, you know," one of their friends said one day during a visit. Their friend sat on an armchair while Reese continued to work on the left boot.

"This is for the king," the Shoemaker replied, reaching over to the table to grab a pair of scissors. "They have to be perfect and on time."

"If there's anything that I've learned from living on this server since before King Eret was put on the throne," their friend said, "It is that they are cool. Things will be fine if you're a little bit late, I'm sure the king won't mind."

"They won't," Reese said. "They're... very nice."

Their friend was quiet for a moment before saying, a lilt of amusement in her voice, "Oh, Prime, you like them, don't you?"

The Shoemaker felt their heart skip a beat, their face burning as they turned to their friend. "No!"

Their friend laughed, bright and tinkling, throwing her head back and grinning widely at the ceiling. "Holy shit, you do! You have a crush on the king!"

The Shoemaker shoved their face in their hands as the laughter somehow got even louder.

As soon as the boots were finished, Reese sent notice to the palace. They were preparing to send them once they were given guidelines on how to do so. However, they never got the chance to, as the next day, the bell over the door chimed and the Shoemaker looked up to see a gleaming crown and shiny sunglasses.

"Your Majesty!" the Greater SMP Shoemaker exclaimed, their cheeks warming just a bit. They pretended that they could attribute that to the heatwave currently sweeping through the nation. "I didn't know that you would be coming!"

King Eret smiled and gave a nod. "I wanted to pick up the shoes myself. You worked so hard on them, I thought you might like the chance to present them yourself."

Reese's mouth was dry and their heart was pounding. "Thank you, your grace. I'll get them from the back."

As they moved to the back room, Reese felt sweat beading on their face. They pushed up their glasses as the frames began to slip down the bridge of their nose.

The Shoemaker carefully picked up the package that they had put the boots into for safe-keeping. They walked back to the front counter and placed the package down. It hadn't been sealed, and so they easily opened the box and slid it gently toward the king.

King Eret carefully pulled the boots out of the package, setting them on the counter in front of the two of them. The boots, Reese had to admit, were some of their better work. The black leather was polished to the point that it gleamed, and each edge was clean-cut and sharp.

The king ran a hand through her hair, running her hand along one of the boots, as if marveling at how smooth it was. "How did you make these?" He looked up at the Shoemaker, and, despite the sunglasses, they were sure that his eyes were wide. "You did this all by yourself?"

Reese nodded, blood rushing past their ears. "I did. I make all these by myself."

King Eret laughed, sounding a bit in awe. "I knew that, but seeing it... knowing that you took the measurements and made the designs and then made these... It makes it so much more real, and that's so, so incredible." The king looked up at the Shoemaker. "You're incredible, Shoemaker Reese."

Through their pounding heart and burning cheeks, Reese managed to stammer out, "Thank you, your Majesty. You're far too kind."

"I don't believe so," King Eret said, their jaw still dropped as they admired the boots. "You might be one of the most talented and dedicated people I've ever met, Shoemaker Reese."

For some reason, despite the fact that they thought it was utterly crazy to do so, the Shoemaker said, "Just Reese, please, your Majesty."

This time, they were the one who had stopped the king in their tracks. King Eret was still for a moment, and they were sure that her eyes were on them, but then her mouth morphed into a beaming smile. "Reese it is, then."

There was a pause and King Eret parted his lips to speak again, but suddenly, outside of the door, Reese watched as the two guards that the king had brought with him dropped to the ground. Both of their bodies shimmered before disappearing, reclaimed by the server, and the Shoemaker realized with a start that something had killed them.

Reese's eyes landed on something thin and sharp sailing toward their front window, and they wasted no time in vaulting over the counter to tackle the king to the ground just as the window shattered. Right where King Eret had been standing, an arrow was embedded in the wood.

"What the-"

The Shoemaker grabbed the king, helped them up, and pulled them around the counter before they both ducked as another arrow sailed into the shop, sticking in the wall.

"We have you surrounded!" A voice sounded from outside. Reese watched out of the corner of their eye as the king whipped his communicator out and tapped out multiple messages. "Release King Eret into our custody or we'll burn your shop to the ground."

Reese blanched at the thought, but grabbed the king by the wrist as she went to stand. "Don't you dare," the Shoemaker hissed.

"I have all three of my lives left," King Eret said. "This shop is everything to you."

"It is not," Reese shot back, "But either way, you're the king. They could kidnap you, forcefully change your respawn point, and then kill you three times over with ease. Then what? The Greater SMP has no leader, there is no heir, and you're dead."

King Eret's throat bobbed, but they nodded. "Then what do we do?"

The Shoemaker asked, "You messaged your guards?" The king nodded and Reese sighed. "Then we wait."

Unfortunately, they couldn't wait it out for long enough.

"You have one more chance!"

Reese held tight and fast to the king's wrist to keep her from standing and sacrificing herself to save their shop that could be rebuilt, just like half the other buildings on the server were during the dozens of wars that broke out.

"Fine, have it your way!"

The Shoemaker grabbed King Eret and yanked him into the back room as soon as they heard the plume of fire being lit.

"I'm sure they have the building surrounded," Reese said, "But at least we can try to avoid the smoke in here until help arrives."

King Eret grabbed their communicator, scrolling through messages that were popping up. "There've been delays. Apparently, these guys planted multiple different batches of TNT around the nation and are threatening to detonate if anyone attempts to intervene." The king swallowed. "I don't want any of my people getting hurt."

Reese's shoulders tensed. "All right, so we figure out our own way out while your guys deal with that."

"How do you propose we do that?"

The Shoemaker couldn't help it: They grinned. "There's something else that I got from my father other than just shoemaking."

Being a phantom hybrid was irritating, sometimes. Reese burned a lot more easily in the sun, and they had to constantly make sure that they were wearing their pairs of glasses enchanted with glamour rather than their regular sets to make sure to keep their eyes concealed. The bright green color of phantoms that would shine in their right eye, other than just disturbing people, would always be rather annoying for the Shoemaker, forcing them to see the arteries and veins running through a person's body, their heart beating in their chest and their brain resting in their skull, even through walls and barricades. Now, though, they whipped their glasses off, ignoring the way that their vision blurred as abruptly everything was tinted with a soft green, save for the organs of the men surrounding the house, which, through the walls, Reese could see clearly.

"There's the fewest over by the window out of my bedroom," Reese said finally. "Only two, and no more in sight line. If we can take them down quietly, then we should be able to get out."

The room was heating up. The glow of the fire flooded under the door.

"Let's go."

As they led King Eret through the house, the monarch asked behind them, "You're a hybrid?" Honestly, it wasn't much of a question.

The Shoemaker nodded. "Phantom. I can... Basically, I can see where they are through the walls. That's all that's important at the moment."

They reached the window, shielded by curtains, and ducked down.

"They're both to the left," Reese said. "I don't know how to take one down without ending up caught by the other, though."

There was a beat of silence before King Eret asked, "Do you have a knife?"

Reese, who did keep one in their bedside drawer, handed it to the king. Abruptly, she slashed it over her arm.

"What are you doing?!" The Shoemaker exclaimed, grabbing their bedsheet to wrap it around the wound.

"Don't touch it!" King Eret said sharply as Reese reached out. They froze and watched as the monarch stood up and moved toward the window. "The left, you said." The men were still there, so they nodded. King Eret peeked out of the curtain, opened the window quietly, and then flicked blood from the arm that they'd sliced onto the two men.

There were muffled noises of pain and then the outlines of the men disappeared.

"Wither hybrid," King Eret explained as he beckoned the Shoemaker, who asked nothing more of the matter, over. Reese ducked under their bed, pulled out the bag stuffed with their valuables that they always kept there just in case, and then straightened up and nodded to the king. The two hopped out of the window, glanced around, and then ran for the tree cover nearby.

They met up with a group of soldiers from the Greater SMP forces, and King Eret was escorted back to the palace as Reese was held in safe custody until the threat around their store was dealt with.

Well, what used to be their store. It was burnt to a crisp, all blackened wood and broken dreams. The shoes were all ruined, their furniture was ashes. The boots were cinders. That was probably what hurt the most.

Reese toed at what remained of the counter and watched as it crumbled to dust. They coughed and made a face. Why did things in this server burn so easily?

"I'm so sorry."

The Shoemaker turned to see King Eret standing in front of their burnt storefront, about ten guards standing at intervals behind him.

"This never would have happened were it not for me," the king continued. She pressed her sunglasses against her face a bit more and frowned as she surveyed the damage.

"It's not your fault," Reese was quick to assure. "Neither of us could've known this would happen."

King Eret shrugged. "Still." There was a beat of silence before the king asked, "What will you do now?"

Reese sighed. "I don't know. Rebuild, though it'll take awhile to make enough shoes to constitute a shop again. Stay with a friend until then, I guess."

King Eret shifted and the Shoemaker wondered if they were crazy for thinking that the monarch looked nervous.

"I was actually wondering... Would you like to stay in the palace, until you can reopen your shop?"

Reese blinked. "What?"

The king cracked a smile. "I have many extra rooms. Citizens have stayed in them before, though often not for very long. It wouldn't be any hassle. It's the least I could do to repay you, afterall."

The Shoemaker took in a shaky breath as soon as they remembered how to breathe, their face burning brighter than the fire that had destroyed their store. "Of course. I would love to."

King Eret's smile widened into a grin. "Wonderful. I'm happy to have you, Shoemaker Reese."

"Just Reese, your Majesty. I thought we went over that."

"Reese it is," King Eret conceded. "On one condition."

"Which is?"

"You call me Eret. No more of this 'king' or 'your grace' shit. Just Eret."

Reese sputtered. "Your Majesty, that's... I can't... You're the king."

"Yes," King Eret nodded, "But none of my friends call me 'King Eret.'"

The Shoemaker blinked. "We're friends?"

The king's cheeks darkened now. "I would say so."

Reese swallowed down the lump in their throat and said, "All right. Eret."

The smile that the king gave probably could have lit up the whole throne room.

(That evening, as the Shoemaker lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, they wondered what in the world was going on.

King Eret had talked with them all the way back, their conversations light and airy, easy as they had somehow been while they were surrounded by assassins, and Reese had found themself laughing far too much and far too genuinely.

They groaned and buried their face in the silken pillow beneath them and tried not to think of their friend, teasing them about a crush that they would never admit they had and yet most definitely, without a doubt, had.

Their cheeks warm and bright, the Greater SMP Shoemaker tried to pretend that things were normal as they fell asleep in the royal palace for the first of many nights.)

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp citizen pov #dsmp citizens memes #eret #holy shit this one is long #eh whatever i had a lot of fun with it #pov you dont know how to handle having a crush on someone and then youre attacked by assassins #just a typical tuesday ya know #the greater smp shoemaker #had to look up the difference between a shoemaker and a cobbler #to make sure i had the right one #spoiler alert: i did

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

today i don’t have a paragraph above the read more because uh

tw: blood, tw: torture, tw: pain, tw: violence. idk everything i need to tag it with so please please please tell me if I need to add something.

@petrichormeraki

His side hurt as he put pressure on the stab wound. He was trying not to pass out as a knife was held in front of his face. “We’re best friends! Aren’t we? Say it! Say we’re best friends!”

He tried not to cry. “W-We are best friends.”

“What about the bag though, isn’t that your favorite part?” The knife was held closer to him. “Best friends know that about each other.”

There were people talking or shouting, but he couldn’t pay attention. “How about later we read some comics? Play some games. You like that, don’t you?”

He was too scared, the words wouldn’t come out and instead he started crying. “Would you just CALM DOWN FOR THREE SECONDS! Just THREE seconds! Alright? You’re just losing your mind a little, got it. That’s all it is. You just need to calm down with me and we’ll sort everything out.”

But he couldn’t calm down. He was holding a knife and could kill him at any moment. He already had a stab wound. No, it was multiple at this point. How didn’t he notice them before? “Please… I-I’m not-”

“Don’t you DARE say that again! Say it and I’ll lose my marbles. You don’t want me to lose my marbles, do you.”

He didn’t. If they weren’t already gone then losing them could make it worse. Or maybe better? Maybe death would be better. He could just be another ghost like the others who had died.

“Here! How about a high five!” It wasn’t a stab, but a punch and his face started to throb. “You’re just goofin and gaffin around, aren’t you.” And then another punch. “How about a little tickle?” And a pain erupted from one of his wounds as it was poked in some weak imitation of a tickle.

“Please! Please I’m not him!”

“What are you talking about?! Of course you are! Are you insane?!” The knife glinted as it moved down and stabbed him, his already brittle bones snapping. It was too much and he screamed loudly.

It was too tight, why was it too tight. Was someone talking? It sounded like it but the words weren’t processing in his brain. Something about night and bread and robots and birds. There was something black surrounding him. Was it going to hurt him? Stab him? ‘You’re my best friend.’ the sentence replayed in his mind. “No no please. I don’t want to be. I’m not him.” He managed to speak out, hoping he would listen to reason.

There was chirping as something bright blue came into view. It was calming as it moved closer until it wasn’t. Something darker on it glinted and he started screaming again. He didn’t want to be stabbed. Not again. He would do anything. He’ll wear his clothes, live in his house, but please don’t hurt him.

“Grian!” Someone shouted, but he shook his head. That wasn’t his name. He was Taurtis. He had to be. He wouldn’t get hurt anymore if he was Taurtis. He pleaded for Sam to listen. He was his best friend Taurtis. He wasn’t Grian and Jerry wasn’t Taurtis. He was Taurtis.

“I haven’t seen him this bad in ages.” Mumbo spoke, trying to comfort Tommy and Tubbo. The bots were fortunately still sleeping as it was programmed into them. Everyone else was staying in come beds that had been set up in a different room so they weren’t close enough to be woken up. But Tommy and Tubbo had stayed up far too long catching up and Mumbo had stayed in a room with Grian. All of them heard the moment he started screaming. Mumbo was pushed out of bed by Grian’s wings as he thrashed around and the other two had run in to see what was going on.

“He had nightmares when he first joined the server back in season six but they got better over time. The only other time it got bad again was during the head games and a few people showed off their rabbit heads.” Mumbo explained after a few other questions.

Professor Beak has also been nearby and woke to the sounds. He flew over to Grian as he mumbled something, sounding like he was pleading for his life. That seemed to calm him down for a few moments before the screams got louder. The bird was handed to Tubbo who held him close and Mumbo tried to soothe Grian.

It was agonizingly slow, but Grian was calming down. He was no longer screaming and just weeping, begging not to be hurt and that he would be someone named Taurtis. With that new information, Mumbo was able to calm Grian more effectively, not knowing what nightmare was being had.

Grian was still out of it when he was fully calmed down, mainly from the exhaustion that came from not having a good night’s sleep and from exerting himself so much in his panic after waking up.

“We’re going to have to take him to his mansion.” Mumbo started to explain as he hefted Grian onto his back. He wasn’t that heavy due to his avian nature as they normally didn’t grow that tall and had hollow bones like most birds. “He does better in familiar places and my old hobbit hole isn’t really a place he frequents. More just a place the children like to play.”

When Mumbo opened the bedroom door, he almost ran into Fundy who was holding the pillow from his bed, ears down against his head. “What happened?”

“Oh shit, that’s right, Fundy’s part fox.” Tommy cursed, remembering that meant he had much better hearing. “I’m guessing the screaming woke you up?”

Fundy hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Not right away. It found its way into my dreams first before I finally woke up.”

“I’m really sorry about that.” Mumbo apologized. “Grian’s having a nightmare of his own and it’s really bad. Say, your dad was wilbur, right? The tallest one? Any chance you could wake him up? With Grian like this I can’t really fly us there, minecarts can only fit one, and the nether isn’t the best place if you’re unconscious. I’m sure I can get him there myself, but having someone to trade off with would be best and the taller the better with Grian’s wings dragging on the ground.”

Fundy nodded and went to wake his dad up, he seemed to wake up Techno and Philza too as they also arrived behind Wilbur who was yawning and looked like he wanted to complain about being up so early. Techno at least kept his expression hidden and while Philza looked equally as tired as Wilbur, he woke up when he saw Grian’s condition.

Quickly, Mumbo explained what was going on with Grian and how they would be going to the mansion. He led them over to the minecart tunnels since Grian’s own hobbit hole wasn’t too far from his base and it was a safe path, especially since the sun wasn’t out yet and with how tired they all felt, there may be phantoms.

Tommy and Tubbo worked on waking the bots up as the tunnel was opened. Jrumbot ran to catch up asking many questions as Grumbot just watched with an expression of concern. Normally he was more robotic and logical, but Tommy could tell he was trying to hold himself together as the bot crushed his and Tubbo’s hands in worry.

At around the halfway point through the tunnels, everyone paused as Grian was moved onto Wilbur’s back. The avian gave out a sad whimper from being moved and Mumbo did his best to give comfort. Jrumbot pulled out a green robe which made Mumbo side with a hint of frustration as he recognised the item, but he did take it and place it over Grian like a blanket.

Tommy makes them wait a little longer as he places down his ender chest and pull out a coat that Wilbur immediately recognizes. He starts to argue about it with his younger brother but it starts to upset Grian and they stop without any warning needed.

As they exit through Grian’s side of the tunnel, Tommy explains how he first holed up in there when he showed up. He’s asked how Grian didn’t notice he was living in the same house but then corrects them. “No Grian moved out ages ago. I moved in because it was abandoned.” As they continued walking Tommy pointed out in the direction they were traveling. “He’s living there now.”

They were all left stunned as they strained their necks looking up at the building towering ahead. As if it weren’t impressive enough, Tommy added another comment. “He’s still not done with it and he also built a replica in the nether that is completely upside down.”

As they reached the base of the stairs, Wilbur looked like his back was going to give out just from looking at them all. Fortunately Mumbo took Grian back and also led them down instead of up. “He started with the basement first. It’s still quite large, but not as much and is mainly a storage system. He spent far too long ignoring the actual interior of his mansion.”

“And the back.” Tommy half whispered before laughing at a joke that no one but Mumbo really understood. Well, the bots did as well, but they were too worried about Grian.

Finally Mumbo reached Grian’s bed and laid him down in it. He gave the coat back to Tommy much to Wilbur’s dismay and put the robe in his inventory which made Jrumbot mad.

Everyone looked exhausted and Mumbo excused himself from the room. He gave Tommy a look and the blond distracted Tubbo so he didn’t hear the distant noise of a firework. Mumbo wasn’t gone for too long as he reappeared with the beds that had been left behind, letting everyone get back to sleep.

Iskall yawned as there was a knock on the wood of their tree. They were surprised to see Xisuma there and tried to make themself at least a little more presentable and not look like they had just woken up. “Hi Xisuma. What brings you here?” They said, stifling another yawn.

“Scar and I were up late going over everything having to do with the smp. We were debating getting rid of the time displacement protection or if we should help the new admin place the same kind on their world. Eventually the topic changed and we ended up on who all lives there. When you and Fundy were at the town hall for paperwork, he wrote a list of everyone there, or most if he can’t remember everyone.”

“Okay, and?” Iskall asked, not seeing where this was going. Xisuma just handed them a paper that was covered with Fundy’s handwriting - paw writing? - and Iskall read down the list. When they finished reading, they looked back up at Xisuma. “So?”

Xisuma pointed to a certain name on the list. “Read it again. Aloud this time.”

Iskall rolled their eye but then looked down and read the name. “Hbomb Aka Hbomb94.” Iskall was about to say more before they finally had the gears turning. “Wait, Hbomb?! That’s where he disappeared to?! I guess that makes sense why we couldn’t contact him.”

“I figured you would want to know. I’ll go see Ren and Stress next unless you want to tell them.”

“I’ll just message the whole group. They’ll want to know and we can have another meet up.”

Xisuma nodded and flew off as Iskall pulled out their communicator. They exited out of the main hermit chat and scrolled down to one labeled ‘vault boys’. They pulled up the chat box and started typing.

<Iskall85>: I know it’s only 8am for some people here.

<Iskall85>: but my friend Xisuma just showed up.

<Iskall85>: H is located.

<AntonioAsh>: are you saying you want a new meetup with him involved

<Iskall85>: of course. He’s been left out of the other times.

<AntonioAsh>: how soon are we talking?

<Iskall85>: maybe a week?

<StressMonster>: our time or normal time?

<Iskall85>: sounds like X is turning the displacement off for a little bit, so both.

<AntonioAsh>: I’ll see if I can make it, but it’s not a guarantee.

<Iskall85>: that’s fine.

<CaptainSparklez>: I’m down. Need a break from wrapping my head around Create. Okay if I bring my kid?

<Iskall85>: definitely. I’m sure she’ll love it.

<CaptainSparklez>: alright! Keep me updated!

<Rendog>: let me sleeeep

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hawksugarbaby · 3 years

Text

Deku x reader- Minecraft millionaire

Fluff

A/N: I use Xbox so these are Xbox controlls but feel free to change them as you see fit

Izuku sat on his bed flicking his eye's from the facetime with you to the screen in front of him continuously holding the right trigger on his controller and chewing his lip. "Wait what level do you find diamonds?" he asked glancing at his coordinates in the corner and you jumped around the world trying to escape a creeper "Fuck i'm gonna die! i'm gonna die! please NO!" you yelped and decided it was time to dig a hole in the ground and block it off. "Sorry, what did you ask?" you look at the phone propped up against your laptop and chuckle at Izuku's face scrunched up in concentration "uh, what level do you find diamonds" he repeated not taking his eye off the screen filled with grey stone blocks and dot's of black for coal. "12 to 14, usually 13 is like the best place"

You answered uncovering the hole you had dug in just as a creeper passed over you and fell into your 3 by 1 grave. "NOOO!" you screeched as the green mob flashed white and you tried to jump out of the inescapable hole for a final moments peace but to no avail. The unmistakable sound of a muffled explosion and the respawn screen, lighting your face up red and you let out a fake cry. "Did you die?" he asked despite the obvious answer. "Yeahh" you answered with a heavy sigh and respawned at home, grabbing a spare wooden sword and jumping over to the spot of your death. If nothing else you'd get a lot of dirt?

Izuku muttered about hitting his head off every block and you snickered "I mean at least you learned your lesson about digging straight down" he huffed and flailed his arms creating a cold air around him "it wasn't my fault no one told me I shouldn't dig straight down!" he had a point, yes, but still you had presumed that even he would know such a basic rule "I know, I know" you say nearing the site of the explosion and start sprinting ignoring the band of mobs chasing you.

"HOW IS MY STUFF STILL HERE. IT WAS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME?!" you yelped in surprise but ran around the area gathering your stuff and spammed the Y button, automatically gearing up and switched your sword to your hotbar along with your enchanted pickaxe and cooked chicken.

"Maybe the minecraft gods granted you... something?" Izuku laughed and popped out of his mine running to his furnace and dropping in a stack of Iron. "(y/n) I hear you need some cobblestone" Izuku said running to your house across from his and down the basement to your storage area. You groaned begrudgingly trying to fend off an army of spiders who had made it a personal goal of theirs to off you. "Izuku please don't contribute to the cobble chest. I'm begging you. I don't need more cobble" you whined sprinting away with 5x more Xp than you originally had. "Do you have lapiz?" you asked raking through his chests to find the blue material.

Izuku opened the chest almost full with cobble and finished it off with 12 more stacks, leaving one or himself. The green achievement bar popped up at the bottom of the screen "Chestful of cobblestone" and you clicked your tongue pushing your hands together like a prayer in front of your mouth "IZUKU. I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I'M GOING TO BURN YOUR COBBLE. STOP GIVING ME COBBLE, THAT GOES FOR ALL THE REST OF THE BOYS TOO!" your shouting could be heard throughout the dorm and some of the other minecraft players snickered to themselves.

Anytime, they had a stack or so of cobble, they would put it in one of your chests and it became a running joke for them to go "Hey (y/n) I heard you needed more cobble" and shove it in the chest despite your begging them not to. You had 3 chests of cobble but never got the achievement because you had burned the first 2 chestfulls before they could finish it off.

"Yes I have lapiz just give me a sec" he answered after your threat and jumped over to you. Meeting in front of your pumpkin farm you were jumping on. "If you fall you're gonna trample your crops" he said and you shrugged "that's what I have a diamond hoe for duh" you say in a bragging way as if having a diamond hoe of all things really just showed your wealth. You jumped off the pumpkin successfully not landing on your crops and spun around in front of Izuku as he threw lapiz at you "Is this what it's like to be a stripper" you chuckled and Izuku snorted at your joke. "Okay that's enough" you say, stopping him from throwing anymore and bouncing off to your enchantment table.

"I can't believe you had 4 extra diamonds and you made an enchantment table and a hoe" he sighed grabbing all the iron from his furnace and spinning to the crafting table to make a new pickaxe and a bucket for milk. He was determined to make a cake just as much as getting diamonds but there was a lack of cows due to bakugo's anger issues when he was in the server. "What would you even have done with them!?" "I COULD HAVE BOOTS (y/n)!" he shouted back and you purse your lips. He could have had boots...

"Okay well I'm sorry I'm rich and have full diamonds" you shrug and he looked up from his controller looking straight forward pinching the bridge of his nose "your a bitch" he laughed and started back down his mineshaft complaining about the steps hitting his head again. "You love me really" you chuckle and he rolls his eyes with a smile "yeah I know" you glance at the facetime and smile, 8 hours, 29 minutes 43 seconds you'd been on a call just playing minecraft in the server you ran for "the lads" as it had been dubbed.

"OOH IZUKU I JUST GOT FORTUNE 3 ON MY DIAMOND PICKAXE!" you exclaim, celebrating by jumping up and down. "Sweet! You're gonna have endless coal!" he laughed and you punched the air excitedly "so much Xp!" "we have an Xp farm" he retaliated and you pouted "Let me be exited" you whined and he awed "sorryyy" he said dragging it out for effect and you huffed "better be."

Izuku's inventory quickly filled with cobble, coal, and iron again, the occasional redstone for Xp and fuck gold, gold sucks. He stumbled into a cave, a platform of stone and on each side was a pool of lava. But Izuku's eyes lit up and he gasped "OH MY GOD!" he shouted digging through the wall to get to the prize. "WHAT!" you shouted back, busy breeding the chickens and throwing eggs in the overcrowded pen. "Sorry but some of you guys have gotta go" you muttered brandishing your iron sword, specifically named "the chicken killer" since you didn't want to waste your diamond sword on chickens. "DIAMONDS!" he shouted back building a platform around the edge of the lave he could walk on and building under the diamonds for safety.

"OH OH MY GOD WAIT THERE AND I'LL MINE THEM FOR YOU!" you say abandoning the chickens and jumping over to his house again. "wait why. This is my moment I've literally never found diamonds and you're gonna take them from me" he asked looking at the phone, your face twisted with concentration. "Because I have fortune 3 and I can make 8 diamonds like 24" you said. "can I mine these ones and tell you when I find more instead I want to mine my own first diamonds." you stopped at the entrance jumping up and down in frustration "okay fine"

As Izuku ventured further into the cave earning probably half a new chest worth of cobble he shouted for you. "I found more diamonds." you immediately sprang into life holding the left stick to go down quicker. "Okay yeah this is really inconvenient" you agreed about bumping your head on the way down and landed at his shaft. "Uhh which way am I going" you asked. "Left" he said. You followed the trail of torches and Izuku's name tag that got bigger the closer you were eventually running into the same square as him. "Move back I can't see" you instructed and he scooted backwards.

You swung the enchanted pickaxe collecting the aqua gems and throwing them at izuku. "That's like 20 something," you said, shrugging at the phone and running off back home. "That was 28" he said running after you to finally make his full iron armor and tools "I have 33 in total" he grabbed sticks from his unorganised chests that you despised and for the first time, made diamond armor in minecraft.

"Oh my god he's wearing BLUE! It doesn't match your colour scheme" you cried shielding your eyes and looking away. "Sorry (y/n) let me just dye my diamonds green real quick" he said, throwing an emerald at you and you feigned shock. "A MIRACLE. TRULY"

"Okay I wanna enchant it" he said following you to the enchantment table. "We do have those enchanted books if you want something specific?" you said but he shook his head "nah i'm doing it old fashioned" he said standing at the enchantment table and taking his time going through, enchanting each item with its purple iridescence.

"What did you get?" you asked, jumping around him excitedly and he hovered over each item. "Respiration on the helmet, projectile protection and unbreaking, wait I got unbreaking as well?" he asked looking at you through the facetime "it does that sometimes" you shrugged and he raised his eyebrows and hummed with the newfound knowledge. "Those on chestplate, protection on the jeans-" "leggings" "whatever, and feather falling on the boots" he said putting all his armor back on and going over his tools "efficiency on the pickaxe, efficiency on the axe, unbreaking on the hoe, unbreaking on the shovel, and fire aspect on the sword" he said stabbing a chicken that immediately went up in flames. "Roast chicken for life!" you cheered.

"Okay you have your full diamond now come to the nether" you said standing in the swirling portal and Izuku whined. "Literally what for!" he asked standing next to you despite his disinterest and the loading screen popped up. "For that Xp, gotta get that nether quartz" you said jumping to a clump of nether quartz and letting the green spheres fall on you watching the bar go up. "(y/n) What's the bridge for?" he asked walking over to the bridge ignoring the magma slime jumping toward you.

"What bri- AGH FUCK NO NO YOU CUBE FUCKING BITCH THINK YOU CAN JUMP ON ME LIKE I'M SOME WHORE WHO DO YOU THINK I AM" (A real thing i've said playing minecraft with my friends) he turned around just as the magma divided into 4 then each of those into another 4 until there were none. "Don't go on that bridge you will absolutely die" you warned and he backed up onto the bridge anyway. You were surprised he even made it halfway before a ghast needed to tell him his place and shoot him right into the neon orange below. "YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT"

Bonus content

Kaminari, bakugo, and kirishima all joined the call loading up minecraft not expecting to get an earful of your abuse to Izuku who was crying into his controller "I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO GO ON THE BRIDGE BECAUSE A GHAST WOULD KNOCK YOU OFF BUT WHAT DID YOU DO. GO ON THE BRIDGE. I LITERALLY JUST GOT YOU THOSE DIAMONDS ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU BROCCOLI. I WASTED MY FORTUNE BUFF ON YOU."

You loved him really. But you would never be taking him to the nether again.

A/n: What is your relationship with Izuku here? That's for you to decide. Also these are all things that have happened to me while in minecraft with my friends.

#bnha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #mha #mha deku #bnha deku #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader

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justletmeplayminecraft · 3 years

Note

What are your theories on HCBBS?? 👀

I'll preface this by saying: I suck at theories! I'm terrible! I love following other people's investigations, but I honestly Suck at actually figuring them out. So, I don't have anything solid, just a lot of observations and ideas which are under the cut. It's basically my thoughts so far. Which, if you know me, is a lot.

I cover why I think it's not an end of season counter, the symbols, who I think might be behind it, touch on the 'change over' element, and some theories what it might all be. Enjoy this mini essay!

Firstly, I'm personally dismissing the 'counting down to end of season' theory. A lot of hermits have new ideas or continued projects, and it's been said recently there's no date set (I think X's livestream was the last place I heard that?) I believe the new season will start around the Caves & Cliffs update, simply because working out the world gen? That would be yikes. With the Village & Pillage update they expanded the world border, but that mostly affected isolated structure generation. With the Nether Update, they agreed the Nether would be reset. Cave generation? Yeah, I can't see an easy way to do that besides a new world.

The lanterns are also counting down fairly quickly (maybe one a day?), so whatever it is, it's happening within the next few weeks. End of season is a possibility, but I don't think so.

As for what I think it stands for... I'm really not sure. I think it's interesting that the first two work with 'HermitCraft'. I wonder if we were supposed to guess that. Obvious on purpose. I don't think the symbols represent anything, though, I think it's Zalgo generation.

However, I'm not sure if the number of symbols is on purpose or not.

As demonstrated in this image, the person knows how to use symbols for effect, too. So whether the number of symbols represents the number of letters? I'm undecided on that. The maximum characters for naming is 35, and the HCBBS is at 26.

My second point: I think it's Mumbo behind it. He tends not to get involved in plotlines unless he's dragged into them, so for him to start a plotline is very unusual. It's worth remembering that the hermits schedule their 'plot' videos behind the scenes. For Keralis returning in S6, for example, it was first revealed in Cub's video from the surveillance drones! Plotlines are discussed and planned, to an extent. So I think the fact Mumbo revealed it is a little Too coincidental.

Other evidence, it fits Mumbo's build style. People have pointed out a lot of similarities to the button, and it seems like redstone Mumbo is familiar with. Also, I've not seen many people talk about this but- Mumbo's a filmmaker! He made a whole trailer about his new computer coming from space or something! The guy knows how to script and direct, just because he's rarely involved in plots doesn't mean he doesn't know how to write them. The Saturator last season, and the Halloween costume machine this one were small opportunities for content & story, perhaps this is something bigger.

He also established a hashtag for it in his description, and tweeted about it. Combined with the outro to his video breaking his usual conventions, it shows he's got the most engagement of any hermit so far with this storyline. Even if it's not his, he's the one who's pushing it.

I think there's also an argument for Cub, though. In the video where he signed up, his intro was 'Hello people of earth'. He also said Hermits had been talking about it, but from my discovery timeline it seems like it went Mumbo - Joe(? Might be after Cub) - Cub - Keralis. Potentially people in-between if you count the number of paper, but I'm too lazy. So how many hermits would've been talking when he signed up? Cub loves these kinda plots, so it wouldn't be too unreasonable, and the redstone is definitely on his level. It's also verging on his shop plot, so I think whoever made it would've asked him for permission, at least.

Moving on to this

The fact it's 'the' changeover implies a one-time event of some kind. Good for drama. It's pretty obvious whatever it is will occur once the countdown ends. I think the question is: will it start, or will it happen? The start of something longer, or a one time event. Also, if the involved hermits will be there when it does, 'cause that's hard to schedule. We're already covering multiple timezones.

And then:

This is just quick from Google, but I'm assuming we must be going for the first definition? Thing is, I'm not sure what could change on HC. A rule maybe, similar to Demise? I'm not sure if this would be Demise 2.0 but it's possible. Demise was well received and a good push to the end of season. And it would be changing to a new system/situation, one where death matters. Other theories I had were the government system, or perhaps replacing the grass again - but those wouldn't need to invite people. Plus I doubt X is giving up his gardener job so soon. So I think it's some kind of minigame set up.

Things I think it might be?

Let's get the disappointing out of the way: Pacific advertising. I mean, look how hard Mumbo was prepared to go for Mumbo for Mayor. He would. I'm hoping it isn't. I also don't know if they have an opening date for Pacific in mind, since Iskall has been busy with Vault Hunters. He's making episodes again now, though. I can't discount it, and will be disappointed if that's the case.

I think it's likely a minigame of some kind, where a fundamental rule of the world changes. But besides death, I don't know what that could be. Another tag kinda game? Curse of binding heads? Who knows.

From the letters, I think a Build Battle could be pretty fun! They've shown having the hermits working on minigames in a small space works great for content, so maybe an extension of that. But it's not exactly a change over.

My far out dream, an old hermit returning. Jessassin is playing with them for an event on Friday! However, I think it's pretty easy to dismiss that on the earlier mentioned 'Why invite people then?'

In conclusion, I'm leaning towards sign ups for a minigame. It makes sense why they'd want names, and if it's a Demise esq event, some build up for it would be interesting! I'm leaning towards Mumbo or Cub as the creator/writer, but Mumbo is definitely driving the plotline. Right now, I'm just excited to see who signs up.

#hermitcraft #hc #hcbbs #hermitcraft spoilers #im mostly collecting info rn and observing #same as i did for demise!#i suck at figuring stuff like this out jkjgf

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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years

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RWBY before Oswald is stuck in a hard place the council needs a mission done but no one is willing to sully their hands and he can't bring himself to go see jaune he tries to talk to ruby only to have her publicly rip him a new one stating her beloved isn't a tool to be used by him and the council when he sees fit

right so sorry I took so long with this but as you can see I did put a lot of effort into this, I hope you all like it. also @bssaz97 I’m tagging you because I know you like this au and wanted to do a scene or two with summer and tai so figured it was best to make sure you were in on the new “cannon”

ADAM’S PEAK

This was a disaster, not just militarily but personally. It was devastating news, and Oswald wasn’t sure just what to do about it.

A white fang general had taken the faunas’ elite troops and had gone on a mad crusade through Vale’s countryside. In a little under a week, they would cross the western mountain chains and be into their heartlands.

The fact that Adam was not acting under orders would do little to calm the hatred of vale and the other kingdoms. Menagerie might very well be whipped off the map as a result.

The actual problem was that the huntsmen were not ready for combat like this, he barely had a thousand of the newly minted warriors, and adam was marching with some six-thousand-five-hundred troops. All with aura unlocked. All with years, sometimes decades of experience in human combat. And well equipped too. The only ones with an army left after his idea to rely solely on huntsmen was Atlas. And their military commanders were… less than ready for the war to come.

There was only one man who could save them, and Oswald already owed him too much to be willing to ask him himself.

But his hands were tied with the news that came in this morning. The council of Atlas had called back the expeditionary force under the command of ironwood. There was a significant uproar over this fact, and the returning general ironwood had launched an investigation, but Oswald knew the truth.

The first battle with the white fang was a disaster. While ironwood managed to get his men out fast enough, Adam had defeated the army soundly. It was only ironwood’s impeccable tactical understanding that allowed him to survive it. With most of his army but none of the provisions as their camp was ransacked and raided as they were forced to retreat.

And now only one man could save them, and Oswald couldn’t bring himself to ask.

When he explained the situation to ruby, she had been quiet for a long time before she finally asked, “Is that all he is to you? A sword you can draw in times of war and put away when you’d rather not face the dark truth? Who do you think you are to ask him for more after what he gave! His family was nearly left destitute by you! His legacy and way of life are gone! His reputation tarnished! His very dreams now taken from him, and I have to lie awake a night listening to his nightmares! All on your orders!” she was shouting, now unable to sit with the anger coursing through her. “WHAT MORE CAN YOU TAKE FROM HIM? THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU, OSWALD. ALL THAT’S LEFT TO HIM IS HIS LIFE AND HIS HONOR!” she was crying now Oswald reached out trying to offer comfort to the girl by she smacked his hand away.

She glared at the man she once saw as a grandfather “he’ll go, we both know he’ll go. He’s a knight of Vale. He’ll always stand ready to protect those he loves. He’ll give the full measure of devotion for his kingdom” she turned away “you don’t deserve him, none of you do, but he’ll take up lance and sword for you” her final words as she shut the door behind her “you deserve eternal life.”

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In the backroom of the council chambers, Adam Taurus smirked, looking over his weapon a katana. Menagerie had ordered him to stand down. Told him that the time of heroes was at an end. But adam knew there was one last trial left for those who sought to be a hero. One final glory before the end of the age. And his name was Sir. Jaune the Just.

Though adam preferred his other name.

The butcher of anima.

The knight’s age was coming to an end, he knew it, jaune knew it, everyone knew it. But there would be one last glorious battle before the end. It was only a matter of setting things up. He needed jaune out of vale and away from his retenue. Luckily for him, the council wanted to be rid of the knight. And of Oswald. All they needed to do was have Oswald be the one who sent jaune out, and when the hero died, both would be gone.

This battle needed to happen. It was his last chance. If he missed this, it was over. His name would never be mentioned in the history books. But if he could take the head of the butcher? Then his name would live forever as the last knight of the world. And the last great general.

When the councilors came and told him the news, he was overjoyed. But he kept his mask up. All he needed from these fools was a chance to kill jaune. Once that was done, their bargain was complete.

And vale was wide open for plunder.

Yes, if this was the last act of the heroic age, let him return to menagerie with a heroes bounty.

In a week’s time, he would face jaune at a no named castle fortress. He didn’t mind that it had no name. For by the end of this, it would be known as adam’s peak!

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Jaune stood before his army, his steel-like gaze casting over the lot of them. They were not knights, not even soldiers and barely men, but they were his. Not for the first time, he cursed the council for sending these men out to die with him rather than having the courage to execute him themselves simply. But he put aside his anger; this wasn’t about the council; this was about his men.

“Nothing is more becoming of a man than to be brave before your enemy,” he began, his voice clear and level as he made eye contact with as many of these boys as he could. Seeking to let them know he was there with them, “but a man may be afraid and still be brave!”

The soldiers, despite their nerves and apparent fear, perked up at this, “And any man who goes into battle without fear is a moonstruck fool! To be brave is to go forward anyway, no matter how a-feared! That is why I go forward in the company of so many other brave men.”

Jaune shot the men before him a grim, but encouraging smile, “I will not lie to you, I can promise you nothing but a hard struggle to come.” Jaune was met with silence before he continued you on, “What would you have me say? I will not lie, not to you, and not for any matters of strategy or state. I will not shame myself as such. But there is one thing I will tell you.”

“YOUR FATE SHALL BE THE SAME AS MINE,” the men cheered at this, “whatever glories in the battle to come, I want you to know that we shall share them, I will be by your side!”

Jaune saw the enemy army marching over the last swell of the hill, having divided themselves into two separate forces consisting of thirty-five hundred men each.

“It is a great honor to be thought of by the kingdoms as an educated and well-read man. After all, it is the home of one of the greatest places of learning in the world! But I tell you this, in all of my studies, I have never encountered the likes of our foes! They would fill bestiaries yet unwritten, and good scholars would blush to write of their perversities!”

“And finally, I can tell you as a man of learning that a book can be beneficial before a battle, I would not recommend Tacitus though, the pages of his books are very rough on your nether regions!” the men laughed. Jaune raised his sword, “THEY WILL REMEMBER!”

A great cheer went up as the men rushed to their positions, forming together in tight spear walls on the mountain’s steep incline.

For Jaune, there was only one truth that rang in his head at the moment, that invincibility is found in defense, but victory can only be found in the offense. It’s why he had ignored the small wooden walls of the “castle” behind him.

No, he wouldn’t die cowering behind the wooden wall of a fort. His destiny lay down the hill before him. And with a determined look upon his face, Jaune kicked his horse into a gallop and went down the hill; his banner raised high...

… And rode right past the second army, making their way up towards him.

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Adam would give this to Jaune; he had indeed done his best to give his men every possible advantage. A lesser commander would have hidden behind those wooden walls at the top of the mountain, but not Jaune. He had sallied out and met him, man to man, on the field of battle. But Adam wasn’t worried. Even with such a steep incline helping the enemy, they were no match for trained soldiers with armor and aura.

The poor peasants that the council had sent to die with Jaune would be remembered at the very least, as they would have the privilege of taking place in the last battle of the Age of Knights. A movement out of the corner of his eyes showed him the banner of house arc proudly dancing in the breeze, with Jaune running down the mountainside right past his army.

He immediately ordered his second army to give chase as the envelopment meant nothing to him. In time these farmers with their pointy sticks would fall, but Jaune must not be allowed to escape and rally a defense elsewhere.

It was not some three minutes later when his lieutenants spoke of Jaune coming for them, leaving Adam to gape at such an action. What Lunacy, surely, no one would be foolish enough to charge an army on their own?!

Adam had little time to comprehend his enemy’s ploy, for when he turned around to the battlefield, he was greeted with a sight to behold. For there before him, plowing through his men as if they were nothing more than dominoes to be toppled over was Jaune Arc: His horse a resplendent white; His armor a polished to a perfect shine; and with his lance couched at a perfect angle as he connected with the unsuspecting Adam’s armor.

There was a moment of resistance before Adam felt weightless as he was taken off his horse from the momentum of Jaune’s weapon crashing against his armor. Then, he felt a flare of pain as Jaune’s lance tore through his armor and pierced his heart in a clean kill before his limp body crashed against the cold, hard ground in an undignified heap.

And then, there was nothing but the void of darkness to greet him.

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Lie Ren was not a knight. He wasn’t even a soldier. He was a farmer, a poor one at that, so when the council had said they needed men to act as levies, he’d signed up. He figured they’d have him digging ditches and carrying supplies, nothing too overtly complex he’d imagine.

But not this

The world was a haze of violence and pain in front of him; faunas in heavy armor struggled uphill through their wall of spears. He thrust without thinking, hoping that it might dissuade the warriors, while every few seconds, another cry would go up as one of his allies took a blow. Nearly all of them were bleeding now, yet none dared to fall, for to fall now would surely lead to their death. Before them, the mass of knights had formed a solid wall; he’d kill for a musket like the one Nora had wanted to buy him, but it was too expensive, and he wanted to save the money to get new farm equipment.

That steam tractor seemed so frivolous right now.

A flash of steel was his only warning as the man next to him died, clutching his throat. Eyes wide, begging for help the first one but most likely not the last. Ren thrust the spear, again and again, ignoring his growing fatigue as he did so. He’d survive this, and he’d make it home to Nora, that’s all that mattered.

But how? They were surrounded.

He wondered if Nora would find another, he hoped so. She deserved happiness, more than he could offer her, that was for sure. Her smile was the best thing about her. It was what drove him to work so hard. Knowing that she’d be back at home waiting for him, he could endure any hardships for that smile. He was hoping to marry her when he got back when the farm was stabilized, and they could build their lives together.

He hoped she wouldn’t mourn too long.

It was just as he was about to give up when he saw him; Sir Arc had gotten behind enemy lines. Down the massive slope, he could see the other half of the army giving chase. And it all happened in slow motion.

Sir Arc Riding up the hill

His lance lowered just as the enemy general turned to see him.

A great screeching as the lance went through the armor of the faunas.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

And then they started screaming.

Panic took the enemy that just a second before was utterly unfazed by them. But now, with their spirits broken, so too was their aura.

The battle was now a haze of red, and Ren gave chase without thinking. He needed this, needed to kill them as they had tried before. He stabbed with his spear running down the fleeing knights as they tried to escape his spear, barely having the time to rechamber as he killed with reckless abandon.

This was no longer a battle; it was a glorious red hazed slaughter, the most potent high of rage elation and victory ren had ever felt, and he needed more, and more, and more! Let the world drown in his enemy’s blood.

HE’D KILL THEM ALL!

Eventually, though, they ran out of men. And ren came down from his high, all around him were tired bloody men, but more importantly, the field was covered in a carpet of dead knights, so much so that the grass couldn’t be seen underneath.

Ren looked at the sky, and that couldn’t be right.

The sun hadn’t moved; it was still high noon.

It had felt like hours, but…

“One thousand men, and seven and a half minutes,” came the voice of Sir Arc. Ren took in the sight of their savior. His horse, once pure white, was now covered in red. His armor the same, his eyes tired. “That’s what it took to gain victory over six-thousand-eight-hundred and thirty-eight men. All consisted of the greatest knights still living after the great war, and the Faunus rights revolution. And the leadership to the militant arm of the white fang” Sir Arc laughed, “and it took me seven and a half minutes AND A THOUSAND FARMERS WITH POINTY STICKS!” and the call went up, the men cheered and hollered. Their cries echoing off the mountain.

Ren would go home to Nora; when he did, they would make love, to the point that he exhausted her. And they would keep going until a week later when Ren’s pay would show up, along with a sizable bonus, and a note.

In time all this would happen, but for now, ren stood on the pile of corpses, covered in blood, spear raised high over his head, and he screamed his victory to the gods on the slopes of what would be known as Adam’s peak.

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Legends would be told of this battle jaune knew as he looked over the clean up being done by his men, the knights of note and the leaders were being beheaded, jaune personally doing the honors for adam. He had plans for all of them. He also had a message from adam’s personal effects back at his camp. He and the council would be having words, and all the world would know of their misdeeds.

The battle itself was the deathblow to the knightly way of life though, jaune could feel it in his bones. It was jaune’s victory purely because of the weaknesses of the knightly system. Aura was based on morale, how willing to fight a man was. When things were going well in a fight, this was all well and fine but scare a man, disrupt his concentration, and he could no longer muster the will to fight, then he was just as vulnerable as any other. Perhaps worse so, as all his skill was based on what he could do with his aura.

The weak point of an army was always their order of battle and morale. And when jaune had killed adam, it had broken them, they could have rallied, but luckily one brave warrior by the name of Lie Ren had rushed forward, seizing the initiative, and as a result, inspiring all the men behind him to push forward as well.

Lie Ren had won this battle just as much as he did.

But adam had committed everything to this battle and lost everything. The knightly system was high risk, high reward, with no real way of knowing how the results would turn out.

The huntsman system didn’t have this problem. It was decentralized, meaning you couldn’t kill a general to break the enemy’s will. And the loss of a team of hunters meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Vale could lose again and again now and still have more to give.

The system was simply a higher reward for lesser risk. And so jaune was faced with the unenviable knowledge that he was the one to end the age of knights. And that he would be the last commander for the final battle.

The after-action report was straightforward. After all, he was only writing it for Oswald. And that was only so ruby would know he was alive before he showed up with the heads of his enemy. Perhaps vale would hate him for this as well, but he no longer cared what happened to that den of vipers.

Jaune had been stationed in the mountains that will henceforth be known as Adam’s peak. He had one-thousand levies from the local farms, poorly trained and equipped. And he had been engaged by the enemy army of the White Fang numbering six-thousand-eight hundred and thirty-eight. Being made up of the elite knights and veteran leadership of the white fang. Knowing that the wooden castle walls would do him no good, he had set his men on the steepest slope in a choke point. It would not have granted him victory, but it had bought him time and had set up the next stage of his strategy.

Adam had sought to capture him for a grand execution and had sent half his army to ensure that he did not escape. Jaune had gambled on the fact that he was a high priority of the enemy general and had run past the second army with his banner held high. Jaune was right in that the enemy was quick to pursue him. He then made a suicidal charge through the back lines of the enemy and slew Adam in a single blow. Therefore, the morale of his enemy and their aura shattered the rest had been a simple mop-up action to ensure they could not rally. With him personally hunting down and killing the enemy commanders as his men slaughtered the rest.

Having followed him, the second army was already exhausted from the chase and, with their auras weakened, could not run away fast enough, blocking the first armies escape and ruining any chance of organizing resistance as units ran through each other to get away, utterly destroying cohesion.

In total, the battle had taken him seven and a half minutes. In seven and a half minutes, Jaune Arc had shifted the direction of fate and history and had secured for himself the title that all would know him by for the rest of his life.

Sir Jaune Arc, The Just, The Butcher Of Anima.

And The Knight of Miracles

#lancaster rwby #lancaster #rwby au #rwby earlier #jaune arc #ruby rose #soulreaver656

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 3 years

Text

Suicide Squad: Kill Captain America

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fQ0u9P

by Murphy_Wesley_Bliss

Captain America, America's golden Boy, turned criminal during the Civil War. His team caused death and destruction, and think their be welcomed back without issue.

Tony Stark isn't gonna call them, the world doesn't want him back, and Nether does the goverment, and their willing to do the unthinkable, ask in for Amanda Waller. Who does the one thing crazy enough to make sure the world's happy.

Send out Task Force X.

Putting together a team who's skills best fit to take down the Rouge Avengers, she promises the new Task Force X time off their sentence to do the job.

Kill Steve Rogers.

Team Cap has the worst fight ahead.

A Jester, a Lady obsessed with Rat's, a giant shark, a man skilled with Boomerangs, a master hitman, and Captain Rick Flag take on this mission, which to anyone else, is Suicide.

But that's kind of their thing.

Words: 2036, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, DC Extended Universe, The Suicide Squad (2021), Suicide Squad (2016)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Harley Quinn, George "Digger" Harkness, Rick Flag, Cleo Cazo, Robert DuBois, Nanaue/King Shark, Amanda Waller, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Vision (Marvel), Peter Parker, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, T'Challa (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Barry Allen, Diana (Wonder Woman), Arthur Curry (DCU), Victor Stone, Thaddeus Ross, Pepper Potts, Hope Van Dyne, Loki (Marvel)

Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Cleo Cazo/Robert DuBois, George "Digger" Harkness & Harleen Quinzel, Jane Foster/Thor, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne, Bruce Banner/Brunnhilde | Valkyrie

Additional Tags: Civil War Team Iron Man, MCU & DCEU, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Steve Rogers is Delusional, Sam Wilson Redemption, Tony is barley Involved, But he does enjoy the show, not team Cap friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Natasha Romanov Friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, One-Sided Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Scott Lang is a Good Bro, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Minor Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne, Minor Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Minor Bruce Banner/Brunnhilde | Valkyrie, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, minor parings since the story focus on the Squad, The Bad guys are better then the rouges

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fQ0u9P

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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maisulli · 4 years

Text

short story collection / update 03.

e y e l e s s l i a, a short story.

or rather, an enchanted dark fable.

Today’s writing update is for a story I have been working on during the last few days while juggling between school work. It was an escape from reality and truly a wonderful experience to see my character (Lia) come to life on her own terms. This one is even dearer to my heart (yes I know I say that about all of them but can you blame me?!), it fascinates me how much I think about the story on a daily basis, I even daydream and space out sometimes while making notes mentally about how the story will unfold. As always, this story will also be published later on in my collection of short stories so I hope you understand I cannot share everything in its entirety! without further delay, enjoy ♡

vignette i. / “the awakening”

“The girl’s village sent her to the isolated hut on the outskirts of their land, where a widowed man awaited a new wife. As they saw the last of her bare footprints recovered by tempered snow, the old townsfolk washed their hands from sin and tended back to the unrelenting burden of their own lives. Their hushing echoed throughout their ice breath and the vile venom spreads beneath black soil — marking a girl’s bare feet ahead.

The girl, when she arrived, stood with a hand resting firmly on the handle of the man’s door. She could not look at the man’s features when he opened nor admire the inside of his home, for she was born blind. Eyeless Lia, the folk used to call her — a name fit for an orphan ruined by a turn of fate.”

The scene above establishes the premise of the story, I wanted to make the reader feel this sort of folks tale/winter bite feeling when reading the beginning of my story. I feel really pleased with how it turned out and I can’t wait for your opinions on it. Fun fact: the theme and idea for this story came to me in a dream, it felt like my own fate telling me to write it!

vignette ii. / blood right

“Each night, she prepared the heartiest meals — garlic oiled pheasant, deer liver adorned with buttered truffles, and rich wine crushed from fermented berries. She wanted him fat, enough fat that she could smell the tartness of his repugnant skin, fatter than anything ever lived. And when he finished eating, it was her turn to take the resting bones and sharpen her own pleasures. Her jaw dripping with saliva as each tooth is carved to her exquisite taste, keen and honed to kill for her sake.”

The scene above portrays the fight that Lia has in her bones, in her blood. She decides to take her fate into her own hands, even though it is a cruel fate, she will make it to her advantage. This story also contains elements of magic realism, so you could say she becomes a creature of her own (spoiler alert!!)

vignette iii. / “the fate you were born into”

“Perhaps, she hoped, for a kind man, but knew better when she felt the weight of his hand crushing her wrist as he made her follow behind. Lia (for now that the girl had a name) was led by the repulsive force of the man into a make-shift mount of straw.”

“She held on to hope, even when the world felt like a cruel marrowbone thrown at her teeth.”

The scene above shows the overwhelming hand of fate crushing Lia’s hope, plunging her already dark world into empty void. But she is strong, strong enough to change her predestined fate.

vignette iv. / a helping hand

“A day finally rises and she has nails searing and knife-like essence, the girl feels as if a god betrothed her rage and molded her to his unforgiving image.”

The scene above is hard to explain but without giving out spoilers, it describes the transformation Lia is currently having being turned into a creature.

vignette v. / sacrament

“Though he cried and struggled, she teared and tore apart and rejoiced with newfound purity. Lia lets her own being washed, the lake slowly seeping and freezing each drop of her vital ichor.

She has never felt clarity until this moment, when death is so close to her door but feels like a swain’s embrace.”

- - - *bonus ♡ (two special add-ons ^^)

first! the mood board for the story.

second! (the sort of epigraph you have to read before the story)

i absolutely love including missing fragments for the reader to interpret the meaning on their own.

Ahhh leaving the best for the end! The final scene above (before the bonus) represents the liberation of one’s soul, when you are completely cut from the mortal world and wish to depart to the spirits’ nether land.

And that’s all for this starlight writing update! This is a story that is very precious to me so I hope you enjoyed it and got to see the beauty of each moment. I would love to also read your tags when you reblog so don’t forget to like and reblog with sweet words!

With love,

Kelly

taglist (send a dm to be added or reblog in the tags that you want to be added!) : @chloeswords @alicewestwater @shaelinwrites @yanittawrites @bitterwitchwrites @jennawritesstories

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