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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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zombie joe?

Cleo buries her head in her hands and screams.

"There there," Joe says, incredibly awkwardly. "While I, personally, have never failed to shuffle off this mortal coil like this before, I've seen a lot of movies, and I'm lead to believe this is the kind of thing zombies do on accident all the time. It's like, the thing zombies are known for!"

"They're going to kick me out," Cleo says, half-miserable and half-furious. "I just got here and they're going to kick me out."

"They're not going to kick you out," Joe says, looking even more awkward. "Er, I mean. Not that I'd know how you got here in such a way that I know the other hermits won't kick you out or nothing, you'll find I have no way of knowing, since we're supposed to be doing things by consensus, but I also do know, because they aren't going to kick you out."

"I panicked and bit you!" Cleo says. "I got crowded, panicked, and bit you."

"Um," Joe says. "Yes, well, that did happen."

"And I turned you into a zombie."

"And it's really quite bracing!" Joe says. The awkward tone to his voice has gotten higher-pitched. There's a certain level of forced cheer to it. Cleo doesn't know if she appreciates it or if it makes her want to scream even more. "I mean, typically I have a heartrate, but I don't, right now! And even though my heart would normally be racing when I panic, it isn't! Also, I bet I could cut off my finger with next-to-no consequences, which makes it suddenly really tempting to--"

"Joe!" Cleo says.

"Cleo!" Joe says back.

Cleo sighs. She looks over Joe. She's not sure whether it's very in-character or out-of-character that he barely looks any different, but if it weren't for a certain grey pallor to his skin, the very visible bite mark on his arm, and the fact he is somehow already missing an eye, she might be able to pass him off as not-a-zombie. Unfortunately...

She runs a hand through her hair.

"It's fine. It's fine!" she says. "To tell the truth, I don't know if I'm meant for--"

"I should practice my moaning!" Joe says brightly.

"What," Cleo says flatly.

"You know like. Auuurgh. Grrrrr. Rawr."

"Did you just--rawr?"

"Is that one best?"

"No!"

"How about... rawr~<3!" Joe says, and then immediately starts coughing. "No, no, that was bad, even I know that was bad--"

Cleo can't help it. She starts laughing. Joe appears startled, staring at her like she's a large bear that has suddenly started doing a dance. His expression somehow looks even more wild-eyed with the missing eyeball and the dried blood on his arm from the bite.

"Did that... work?" Joe says.

"I am going to be kicked off of your safe haven server for being a threat to the integrity of the place because I'm infectious and you're rawring at me," Cleo says.

"...I will take that as a win," Joe says. "The laughing! The laughing! Not the getting kicked off, you aren't getting kicked off, I told you what I did to Biffa when I was first invited right--why are you laughing more I'm not even trying to be funny anymore--"

Cleo doesn't have a heart to slow or speed, but just then, she feels like she has a heart to warm. Yeah, sure. She might be in massive trouble, but at least this thing she's built with Joe--that's alright.

#answered #ask game #prompt ficlets #a bee fic #zombiecleo #joe hills #hermitcraft #i had a VISION with this prompt thanks #anyway this is the FIRST time this happens #by like the sixth everyone's used to it

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hypewinter · 1 year

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Here's an idea for eternally young Danny. He may have the body of a teen but he's mentally an old man and speaks like one too. He says things like "young whippersnapper" , "back in my day" , and "doohickey". The whole works. Even better if the Justice League finds him and thinks he's a young hero without a mentor so they stick him on the Young Justice team. Just imagine....

Danny: Young fella, use your techy thingy to open this here door.

Dick: You're like the same age as me.

Danny: Ah speedy there you are. I need your help with a little wood project I'm workin on.

Wally: For the last time Danny, Speedy is another guy. I'm Kid Flash but sure, I can help you.

Danny: Youngins these days with their kiddy flashes and speedies. Nothing was ever this complicated back in my day. And where's your respect for your elders? I would have never gotten away with talking to my grandpappy that way.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #do you see my vision!?#everyone thinks danny's just playing a bit to be funny #but he's like 98 at this point #he should technically be running around with the justice society #hyper prompts

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desertduality · 3 months

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gigs phasmo but the ghost is just confused mumbo jumbo

physically unable to write a snippet so here's a whole oneshot AKJSDKJ I hope you like it!! Personally I had a ton of fun lmao

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The house was nice, as far as haunted locations went. The flowers out front were dead, sure, but that was probably on account of their caretaker being dead as well.

The neighbors had been the ones to call this address in, claiming that although the owner of the property had died quite some months ago, lights frequently turned on and off in the house. The police had been by several times to check for intruders, and had come up empty every time. Finally, some desperate neighbor had given in and called paranormal investigators.

So there they were, Impulse pulling up on the curb just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prime ghost hunting time, for some reason; Scar hadn’t really paid attention to the science and research when he’d signed up for the job. Besides, the other three had all that handled quite nicely. Scar was just along for the ride.

“Scar, you know what you’re doing?” Impulse asked, grabbing a flashlight off the wall and clipping his walkie onto his belt.

“Sir, yes sir!” Scar quipped, scanning the gear for his usual fare. “One paraba-dolical microphone coming up.”

“Grab a thermometer, too,” Impulse suggested, clapping him on the shoulder on his way out of the van. “Let’s try to keep this one clean! The company is running low on cursed items with resurrection abilities.”

“I know for a fact we’ve made the biggest dent in that,” Skizz’s voice crackled out of the walkie, changing to a slight echo as he presumably walked in the house.

“Why do you sound proud of that?” Grian asked, speaking into the radio as he grabbed a salt canister. Scar snickered, reaching over him to grab the thermometer.

“We’ve got a record going, man! No one can stop us!”

“You have to admire his positivity,” Scar said brightly, clicking his flashlight to make sure it worked.

“Yeah, I guess he’s got that going for him,” Grian replied, giving a short wave as he left the van. “See you on the inside, Scar.”

Scar gave a jaunty wave, doing one last check on his equipment before starting after him. A voice cut him off before he could leave.

“Did anyone check the name?” Impulse asked, and Scar turned around to squint at the corkboard, eyes catching on the top.

Huh. Interesting.

Scar clicked the talk button on his walkie. “Looks like… Mumbo Jumbo?”

There was a long pause, and Scar almost thought they had missed it somehow. Then the response came.

“Scar,” Grian said, sounding tiredly amused. “If you can’t pronounce it, don’t just make something up.”

“No, It— It literally says Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar replied, glancing up to double check. “Don’t make me waste a photo to prove it. I will, you know I will.”

“Don’t, Scar,” Impulse jumped in, so quickly that the start of his sentence cut out. “We believe you.”

“Get in here before I come and drag you, Face,” Skizz chimed in, and Scar rolled his eyes with a chuckle, stepping out of the van.

The house was warmer than the air outside, so Scar took that as a sign that someone had gotten to the fuse box. He wandered around with the paradabolic microphone for a few minutes, watching closely for big leaps in the readings. Eventually, Impulse called out from upstairs, claiming that he’d found the room. Scar hurried towards him, making it there just in time to watch him set up the video camera, fiddling with the tripod and muttering complaints about its stability.

The room was a bedroom, a large bed against one wall and a shelf full of dead plants on the other. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, but that was pretty usual. Obviously no one had been keeping up with the cleaning.

“Anyone done spirit box?” Grian asked, and Scar jumped and whirled around, finding him in the doorway. Grian giggled, and Scar huffed.

“Not yet,” Impulse said, finally getting the tripod to settle. He looked over at them. “Want us to leave?”

“Not really,” Grian grumbled, starting to power up the spirit box. “But yes.”

Scar walked out of the door and Impulse followed him, closing it and leaving Grian in the room alone. Immediately, they heard the telltale singing introduction of Grian beginning to ask questions. The rest of the house was quiet. So far, everything had been entirely unremarkable.

“I’m going to go grab D.O.T.S and a book,” Impulse spoke suddenly, starting to walk away. “Maybe you could start grabbing some stuff for a polty pile?”

“Sure, will do,” Scar said, and started picking up objects from the table in the hallway. A lot of picture frames and spare wires, for whatever reason.

Grian opened the door to the room just as Scar arrived with his arms full, and Scar tilted his head at the odd look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was wearing a faint frown.

“What’s wrong?” Scar asked, curious. Normally, Grian came out of a spirit box session with wide eyes and immediately ran to the van. This was out of character.

“I think…” Grian started, contemplative frown getting more pronounced. “I think the ghost apologized to me.”

“...huh?”

“I asked where it was,” Grian said, spirit box slack in his hand. “And then it said something, and then I screamed, and then it— I could have sworn it said sorry. Like, for scaring me.”

“Oh,” Scar said, tilting his head. “Has that happened before?”

Grian shook his head slowly, staring at the spirit box for a minute before exhaling forcefully. “Let’s just keep going,” he said, shoving the device in his pocket. “We still have a job to do.” Then, into his walkie: “We’ve got spirit box, guys. One thing down.”

They kept doing their jobs like they normally would, but none of them could quite shake the sense of something being different.

Usually, the haunted locations they visited had a foreboding sort of feeling to them. They get in and out of those places as soon as possible, the feeling of imminent danger settling on their shoulders like a heavy jacket. There was none of that, here. It was obviously haunted, but it still just felt like... a house. It didn’t feel malicious at all.

Impulse put a book down, and writing appeared a few minutes later. Just a single sentence, asking if they would water the plants on their way out.

They laid down D.O.T.S and stayed out in the van for a while, eventually seeing a tall, hazy figure pass quickly through.

They caught ghost orbs on the video surveillance.

Impulse took the Ultraviolet flashlight and found fingerprints on the side of the video camera, like the ghost had been curious about it.

The salt Grian had placed on the ground was smeared and scattered, almost as if the ghost had slipped on it instead of stepped in it.

“If we discovered some new type of ghost,” Grian said eventually, muffled through his own hands covering his face, after hours of pouring over the conflicting evidence. “I am going to be upset.”

“None of this makes sense!” Impulse complained, flipping through the research journal that Scar had never touched. He was scowling at the pages like they’d personally offended him. “It won’t even hunt!”

“He seems kinda friendly,” Scar said, staring at the steady line of the EMF reader on the screen. “The poor guy just wants his plants watered. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn’t help. Those things are dead dead.”

Impulse’s head thunked down on the table in front of him. “We’re so fired.”

In the silence following that statement, Skizz burst into the van, holding an object aloft in celebration.

“I found it!” Skizz yelled triumphantly, the wrinkly figure of the monkey paw clutched in his hand. “It fell behind some boxes. I told you it was here.”

“Oooh,” Scar said, rushing over in excitement. “What should we wish for?”

“A quick death?” Grian said flatly.

Scar waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve had too many of those. It gets kind of boring, believe it or not.”

“Let’s just wish to see it,” Impulse said, heaving himself up from his hunched position by the monitor. “We’ve done everything else we could do, let’s just do it.”

“Sure, why not,” Grian said, shrugging. “Let’s go out in a blaze of glory, then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Skizz laughed, and together the four of them marched back into the house.

The room was exactly as they’d left it, and Impulse took a moment to turn off the D.O.T.S. Then they stood in a loose circle, tense and determined. Whatever was happening here, it would be over soon. One way or the other. Maybe the company wouldn’t even bother to bring them back, this time.

Skizz held the monkey paw aloft, dim light casting dramatic shadows on his face. “I wish to see the ghost!”

A finger on the monkey paw cracked and groaned as it bent down, and a chill swept across the room, quick and encompassing. Their flashlights flickered, and then died, leaving them in complete darkness. For a long moment, the only sound was their chorus of quick and shaky breathing.

When the lights turned back on, Scar was face to face with a ghost. A ghost that looked equally as startled as he was.

Scar yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping over the open book on the ground and hurtling towards the bed. The ghost — a tall man with dark hair and an absolutely wonderful mustache — lunged forward and reached out as if to catch him, eyes wide and panicked. To be fair to the dead man, it absolutely would have worked if his hands were still a tangible thing; As it were, his attempt at grabbing Scar to keep him upright was rather rudely foiled by his outstretched hand passing right through Scar’s flailing arm.

Scar hit the bed with a grunt as various cries of alarm sounded out around him, light bouncing around the room haphazardly as the sound of clattering reached his ears; someone had dropped their flashlight, apparently. Scar laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, dazed.

“Oh gosh! I’m so— I didn’t mean to pop in like that, I—”

Scar looked up just in time to watch a crucifix fly through the air and pass harmlessly through the ghost’s head, hitting the wall with a thud and falling gracelessly to the floor. The ghost yelped and ducked — much too late, not that it mattered, anyway — and Scar’s gaze next landed on Grian, still standing there with his arm extended in a throwing motion, hand empty and eyes wide.

“What was that gonna do, G?!” Skizz asked hysterically, fumbling for his camera, accidentally snapping a picture of his own face and swearing when the light blinded him.

Impulse had knocked over the tripod in all of the chaos, and was now frantically attempting to set it back upright. The ghost — Mumbo Jumbo — turned his anxious eyes on Scar, who for once was struck speechless, jaw slack.

“Are you alright, mate?” Mumbo Jumbo asked, hands fidgeting together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but— Well, you summoned me. There’s only so much to be done for that.”

With everyone else still scrambling about the room, Scar allowed himself a few seconds to process things. Most ghosts they’d come across — all of them, actually — had been nothing less than murderous and bloodthirsty. The cordial ghost of a perfectly normal man was not something they had been trained for, but that didn’t exactly mean that it was impossible. Sure, maybe it had come way, way out of left field, but Scar prided himself on rolling with the punches. He pushed himself up from the bed with a sheepish, charming smile.

“It’s all good,” Scar said, bright and friendly. “For sure our fault, we summoned you and got surprised when you showed up. Kind of rude of us, I think. Your mattress is super comfortable, by the way.”

Mumbo Jumbo blinked, as if surprised by the onslaught of words, a confused little furrow appearing between his brows. “Thank you?” he said, glancing behind him at the bed. “It was…expensive.”

“I mean, hey! We spend a lot of our lifetime in a bed, right? Might as well shell out some cash for quality.”

“What are we doing?” Grian asked quickly, almost like he was talking to himself, hands pressed to his head in utter bafflement. “This is insane, what is happening.”

“Grian! Don’t be rude,” Scar admonished playfully, then turned back to grin at the ghost. “Mumbo Jumbo, right?”

The man nodded faintly. “Just…Mumbo is fine.”

“Sweet! I’m Scar,” Scar said, and then started pointing to his friends, all standing stock still in various stages of shock and confusion. “The rude one who throws stuff is Grian, that’s Impulse by the window, and over there is Skizz!”

“Nice to meet you?” Mumbo said, glancing around nervously. “I would offer to shake your hand, but…”

“God, this is weird,” Skizz blurted, eyes still wide but starting to relax his stance. “You do know you’re dead, right? We never actually get to ask any of the ghosts we meet.”

“Oh, I— Yeah, I’m well aware,” Mumbo said, laughing a little. “You’ve met other ghosts, then?”

“We’re ghost hunters,” Impulse said, and now that the shock was fading, Scar could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I mean— We’ve never met any like you.”

“Mostly they want to kill us,” Grian said, stepping up next to Scar. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill us?”

“I don’t think I know how, much less want to,” Mumbo said, glancing out the window. “Did someone call you to find me? I’ve been trying not to scare anyone, but I suppose the lights might’ve done me in.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much what tipped them off,” Scar said apologetically. “A few too many weird things happen and boom, here we are.”

“What happens now?” Mumbo asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you found me. Job done, yeah?”

“Usually we figure out what type of ghost it is and the company sends out a specialized team to evict it,” Impulse answered, brow pinched in thought. “But normally that’s for safety reasons. You don’t seem like a threat. No offense.”

“Oh, none taken.”

“Can I ask how you died?” Skizz asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Skizz,” Grian hissed. “You can’t just ask people how they died!”

“I was just wondering!”

“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mumbo stuttered, and Scar had a feeling that if ghosts could blush, he would be doing it. “I… fell down the stairs.”

Scar nodded solemnly. “Could have happened to anyone.”

“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Grian asked, vaguely gesturing at the room. “It feels like it would be wrong to kick this guy out of his own house. He’s not really causing trouble.”

“Yeah, I— I do like my house,” Mumbo interjected, awkward smile on his face. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”

“Someone’s bound to move in eventually, you know,” Skizz said, pitying frown on his face. “There’s already a for sale sign in the yard. The new owners might not be super ghost-friendly.”

Mumbo’s shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face as he frowned at the floor. Scar felt a pang of sympathy grow in his chest, and he glanced out the window at the rows of houses down the street.

It really was quite a nice neighborhood.

“...You know,” Scar started, gaze drifting over to Grian, a slow smile forming on his face. “Our lease is almost up.”

Grian looked over at him, eyes already resigned, and sighed.

Scar laughed, grinning, and Mumbo slowly smiled back.

#this let me practice my ability to write silly fun things AKSJDKJ it was a blast actually :]#thank you for the prompt anon!! I hope i brought your vision to life aksjdk #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #skizzleman #impulsesv #mumbo jumbo #my writing #writing request #now that this is finished i am going to go to bed <33 #might post this on ao3 later but rn i'm tired <3

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pfhwrittes · 2 months

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prompt: gaz and ghost on overwatch, watching soap talk to their contact on the ground, and roasting him alive on comms. just stepping on his neck nonstop. soap can hear them but can't react because the contact spooks easy -391780

@391780 i LOVED this prompt. nothing makes me happier than Ghost and Gaz banter (there's so much of it in the drafts for misery and festivals). hopefully this little blurb satisfies the prompt!

-- “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Soap’s earpiece crackles as Gaz opens the comms, distracting him for a second from the twitchy man in front of him.

“Go ahead, sergeant.” Ghost rumbles.

“You ever realise that Soap stands with his hip cocked?” Soap can hear the shit eating grin in Gaz’s voice. The sleekit wee bastard.

“Hm. Looks like a teapot.”

“A teapot, sir?”

“Like the nursery rhyme.”

The comm crackles again as it cuts off Garrick’s stifled chuckle.

Soap shifts his stance, subtly redistributing his weight to rest evenly and bringing his hands up to loop his thumbs into the shoulder straps of his vest. There, now he can’t be called a fuckin’ teapot. The informant flicks his eyes over Soap warily.

The comm clicks on again.

“Think he heard us, sergeant?” Ghost asks, amusement lacing his tone.

“Can’t be sure sir, it appears Cap has taken Soap’s place temporarily.” Gaz’s voice wobbles with repressed laughter.

“Can’t see it myself, Garrick.”

“Why’s that, sir?”

“Doubt Price would dare show ‘is face if he had a mop like that on his head.” Ghost deadpans. Soap feels his eye twitch as Gaz chokes back another burst of laughter. Cheeky fuckin’ cunts.

“Looks -” Gaz cuts off the comm before flicking it back on, “looks like he lost a fight with a pair of clippers -” the comm cuts off again and Soap swears he can hear Gaz wheezing somewhere above him.

Soap moves one of his hands to scratch at the back of his helmet with his middle finger, aware of the way the informant tracks his movements. If those pair of wallopers blow this op, Soap swears to himself that he’ll dye every single one of Ghost’s balaclavas pink and sew a Saltire on the front of Gaz’s cap in place of the Union Jack.

Abruptly the tone on the comms change.

“Garrick.” Ghost snaps, the teasing lilt to the banter is gone and in its place is the hard tone Soap’s heard before when things are about to get dicey.

“I see ‘em.”

“Keep them in your sights, I don’t like the look of -” whatever Ghost doesn’t like the look of gets cut off as an explosion sends a shockwave of sound and dust over Soap, forcing him to cover his head from flying debris.

Much later when the three of them are getting chewed out by Price for “missing a whole fucking truckload of insurgents because you three were too busy dicking around on the bloody comms” Soap decides that his little sewing project isn’t nearly enough in the way of payback.

#pfh answers #pfh prompts #jm #sr #kg #jp #gaz and ghost are such shits i love them #ps everyone is fine except they're on shit shifting duties for the foreseeable #ooh i surprised myself by writing a brief allusion to action there #edit to add (because it was too good to leave in my DMs):#lmao i just have this vision of price talking to laswell afterwards going '... do i stand weird kate?'#and she's thinking that finally someone told him about the fucking air thrusts at last

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puppetmaster13u · 1 month

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Another Ghost Dragon Prompt? Indeed.

The Ward had made a mistake. Had stolen something that had caused the very Skies to lash out, entire worlds at risk from their actions.

Time Itself shrieked in rage at the loss of Its child, or at least that's how every magic user- and the speedsters, pale and shaken and looking sick- had described it.

Someone had taken the young prince of the Infinite, and it was not the Tyrant King, long since sealed away, that lead the charge, but the Queen Regent that many had long since forgotten.

Many forgot that it was not the Dark who courted Time, but Time who courted the Dark. That It was just, if not more so, merciless as Its partner, and would Devour worlds should Its child- still with newdeath soft scales- was not returned.

Which meant that for the heroes, there was now a Clock ticking down ever so quietly. They had to take care of what was a government branch, had to deal with consequences of going over the law, or their World would End in dragon fire.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #My art #ghosts are dragons #clockwork #danny fenton #ghost prince danny #pariah dark x clockwork #Lil Danny is about the size of a horse btw #Nocturne helps by helping CW enter Phantom's dreams to sooth the child #Is Danny technically a teenager? Yes. Is he still a small child to eternal primordial dragons? Also yes #Why yes the picture is in Danny's dreams #Clockwork is far larger than pictured #And yes CW knows how to wage war if he needs to he is married to Pariah & BIL with Fright Knight #Why yes Danny has the same swirled patterns as CW #Clockwork is Dannys Mom/Dad #The GIW's ecto-blocking equipment makes it impossible for them to find Danny themselves #And Danny is immune/invisible to Clockwork's future sight/vision so that's no help #If they can't find him they'll tear the world apart to do so #Clockwork is also threatening to wake his husband again because #he's not afraid to actually Join him in Conquering shit if it gets his BABY back #GIW do not realize that they're hearing boss music #Danny's friends & siblings Would join in but they've gotten kidnapped/bundled up into a nest from paranoid worry #All of amity has technically been stolen for their safety

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the-witchhunter · 2 months

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DP x DC: Loser Baby

So the thing is, tonally John Constantine is probably not a great match for Danny in lighter funnier fics

Don’t get me wrong, John can have his lighter moments, especially in crossovers, and he’s got a sense of humor

But

Hellblazer lore is dense and weird, but more importantly it’s DARK

Like, extremely

John is a deeply traumatized man, people around him get hurt, he spent three years inpatient at a psychiatric facility. There’s a story line where he’s a homeless alcoholic who makes friends with a rent-boy and shows a grim reality of life on the street, substance abuse, addiction, and sex work. It also ends with John’s demon blood eating the face off of the King of Vampires who happens to look like James Dean

That’s not even getting into the serial killer plot or the multiple trips to hell

Sins of the Father involves John being forced to confront the soul of his father in hell, a man who was terribly abusive and blamed John for the death of his mother who died while giving birth to him, which given information revealed during this comic turns out to be very misplaced.

However, makes him a good fit for a “Jack and Maddie are Bad Parents” fic, and/or a dissection fic

And it would basically play out like “Loser Baby” from Hazbin Hotel

youtube

Because it is a shitty situation. Coming to terms with neglect, the trauma of them rejecting him for an aspect of himself he can’t change Phantom Planet does not exist and the emotional and physical trauma of a dissection, and then being homeless and having to find a way to survive on his own

But John can empathize and understand

His own trauma may be different but he gets it, can relate to it, and can say “mate, situation is fucked to all hell but you don’t need to be alone because of that”

And that’s not even getting into the trauma of dealing with supernatural weirdness, which frankly they would both understand pretty well

Just two traumatized people bonding and saying “yes, we may be damaged goods, but we’re not broken and we aren’t alone”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #danny fenton #writing #writing prompt #bad parents jack and maddie #tw abuse #tw neglect #but do you see my vision??#two traumatized people bonding #they may be damaged but they aren’t broken #Youtube

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thepenultimateword · 3 months

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Prompt #253

Supervillain leaned their cheek on their fist, watching Villain type intently on their phone from across the table. A slow-growing ache rose behind their ribs, but when Villain smiled at their screen, that ache felt like a stab.

“Are you texting Hero?”

Villain looked up, blinked a couple times and set the phone face down on the table. “They’re just letting me know there’ll be a stand-in for them tomorrow.”

“Did they say something funny?”

“Huh?”

“You smiled. Was it something funny along with the information?”

“Just a joke, why are you being so sensitive?”

Supervillain let out a long sigh.

“You’re just dating me to make them jealous, aren’t you? And to get me out of their way.”

#creative writing #prompt #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writing prompt #heroes and villains community #writblr #short prompt #villain #villain x villain #villain x supervillain #this could go either way #but in my vision #supervillain is the smitten one for once #and villain asked them out #and they were excited #until they realized it was a ploy #either villain has to change or supervillain needs to find someone else

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dailyloopdeloop · 17 days

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DAY 13: the creature lisa frank edition

#codacheetah #isat #in stars and time #isat loop #two high effort drawings in a row?! holy moly #don't expect this to continue i just had a psychic vision while in bed last night and knew i had to do it. sorry to the prompts in my inbox #i'll get to y'all soon. i didnt forget about you guys #umm anyways. the fucking creature #inspired by cikrovat and startagainaprologue's creatures primarily they are so good #i think loop should get to be a weird ass furry. they deserve it.

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moltengoldveins · 1 month

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hm yes emduo and bedrock bros and the eggs in Space. Phil is one of the last surviving members of a fragile but technically immortal species of elytrians that is now only whispered about in fairy tales. He’s a private investigator and enforcer (space pirate and muscle) for his beloved wife’s galaxy-wide uhhh….. Independent illegal group of people dedicated to protecting order and monitoring corruption? Gang of space pirates who steal from rich people? League of assassins but with morals? Unclear what the Syndicate Is Exactly but it sure do Be. He’s the pilot for the SBI Boreas, a light cruiser with a frankly Absurd munitions outfit. (Tubbo’s his mechanic)

Techno is a member of the only recognized sentient deathworlder species, an odd mix of orc, elf, and pig features, and is by all accounts a living legend, or a living nightmare. He’s solidly twice the size of most other species, capable of surviving injuries what most would deem a death sentence, and a highly trained warrior to boot. Now, by all human accounts the texts of his people are pretty self-explanatory, (the Art of War is 89% Common Sense by volume) but in a galaxy of peaceful races on peaceful planets, it’s complex and brutal enough to be nigh-incomprehensible. He’s on a Lot of watchlists, but he’s also the like… platonic third partner in Phil and Madam Kristin, The Lady Of Death TM’s marriage??? So not a lot can be Done about him.

Tommy is a younger avian teen (distant relation to the elytrians, definitely Not Immortal) who Techno found breaking into the Boreas and decided to keep (Phil took one look and his Dad Instincts kicked in) and his life is going swimmingly until he gets Yoinked for leverage against his dads and mum. The organization who gets him runs a blood sport colosseum, and while in transit his cage was stuck next to this weird hairless thing?? Chained with like Heavy Duty restraints. Tommy doesn’t have a ton of time to bond with this Strange Thing before the hostage negotiations happen, but they do manage to exchange names and Tommy decides with his classic impulsive passion that This Thing And He Are Brothers For Life Now. then the negotiations immediately go south, there’s a bit of a standoff, and Techno ends up trading himself for Tommy, which is what the organization wanted in the first place. They run a Reeeeally expensive exotic show for super Rich Jerks in an undisclosed location and Techno is their latest attraction. They’re also painfully cocky, and will be dying with extreme prejudice the moment Mumza gets her claws in them.

So Techno gets Got and shoved in a high-security cell once they reach the colosseum, along with, surprise! This strange hairless creature with four limbs. It’s Chayanne, who is A Very Human Teenager who Did Not Want To Be Abducted By Aliens, Thank You. They’re both deathworlders, which Techno Does Not Realize until they get assigned to the same team a few weeks into the battles and watches Chay rip a bug man’s limbs off (Chay is Not having a good day. His dad (Missa) taught him self defense and was a martial artist, a butcher, and a rather morbid man, so some Relevant Knowledge and some general chillness around death is to be expected, but Not a chillness around KILLING PEOPLE FOR SPORT) Techno thinks this must be a fully grown adult whatever-it-is all the way until Chay breaks down crying and sounds Just Like a shoat (baby pig) and Techno feels the Dad Instinct rising again.

Meanwhile, Halfway Across The Galaxy: the government has been developing space flight, but are really only at the borders of our solar system when they catch some aliens in the act of Yoinking another kid, this time from an orphanage (Tallula) they don’t manage to save her, but Holy Crap ALIENS???? Missa, who saw a bit of his son’s abduction but not enough to know exactly what happened, sees the news broadcast, puts two and two together and gets plot advancement. He starts pulling strings, asking about old connections in the space force (Cosmonaut Fit Emsi, godfather to Chayanne and Missa’s college best friend, may or may not be involved in the Turning Of Blind Eyes) and manages to get access to a hanger bay with a captured alien ship in it a few months after the incident in what might be the coolest heist sequence ever not-actually-written. (It’s very cool in my head, think Oceans 11 but the majority of the qsmp cast, trust me I swear.) He launches himself right into space and proceeds to systematically work his way through spaceport after waystation after colony planet in search of The Aliens Who Steal Human Kids (Specifically My Son)

Techno is at this point playing the long game. He knows Kristin and Phil aren’t about to leave him hanging, and that they have enough firepower to burn this place to the ground, but he’s not sure when that’s gonna happen or how he’s gonna get Chay out. Meanwhile, Chay has No Idea what this strange Exceedingly Chill Pig Man has going on, but as far as he’s concerned, this is his life now. Forever. And making allies is important. They start trading languages and Techno starts teaching Chay katas (modified for the drastically different joint structure) in their free “big open space enrichment time.” (Side note: what aliens consider almost horrific cruel and unusual punishment is at worst severely unpleasant for humans. They just can’t take psychologically what humans can, so they kinda Have to treat their slaves better than we would. Doesn’t mean it’s good treatment, but it does mean Chay and Techno are both doing significantly better than they could be.)

Finally, Phil and Kristen rock up to the party incognito, dressed to the nines and attending a Big Event To Show Off Our New Deathworlders. They see Techno in the ring and have to Play It Cool, but he seems to be doing ok actually, so that’s good. Eventually the Head Honcho Man gets into a discussion with Phil right by the viewing window, so Phil has to pretend he’s fine when he sees a door open in the arena and A @:&;!ING HUMAN STEP OUT AND SQUARE OFF WITH HIS BEST FRIEND. (Shockingly, being immortal tends to inform you of such things like Secret Deathworlds and their Scary Inhabitants) Kristin is of course Immediately On The Move, but it turns out to be not necessary: Chay just kinda strolls up to Techno and gives him a side hug (bLEASE, you want me to fight my Roommate? Get out) and while Phil is laughing to himself, the Head Honcho gets maaaaad. He pulls it around though, announcing that he “already knew the two monsters had bonded the way only such vicious creatures could, and will be giving them a challenge only they could hope to face!!” And releases, like, four of the heccin Dune sand worms into the arena. Techno and Chay proceed to fight like demons while Phil and his squad take out the party and Kristen and her squad sweep the lower levels of the colosseum in an effort to keep More Worms out of the arena. Slavers die horribly. The end.

Meanwhile, halfway across the galaxy: Missa returns!! Now with Even More Rage! His ship has broken down and because he ain’t got no Space Green Card, he’s got to get it repaired at a place that’ll take anyone. Enter Tubbo Underscore, Syndicate Member and Tinkerer Extraordinaire. Tubbo takes one look at this guy and goes “yeah that’s not a normal guy there’s something Wrong here” and through a series of pointed questions (and aggressive preening by Benson, a rather horrifying eldritch duck-dog thing the size of a small horse) Missa eventually explains why he’s in space. Tubbo, having just recently repaired Philza H Minecraft’s ship on its way to wipe out a gladiator ring, puts two and two together to make more plot, explains his Theory, and decides to accompany Missa, getting them into the next Syndicate raid on this organization. They, along with an undercover agent by the code name of Boo (It’s a word in Old Enderian that means ‘Eldritch’ or ‘Unknowable.’ Missa has to choke to keep from laughing) storm a freighter and rescue a bunch of valuable slaves and also!! Sunny and Tallulah! They have different first languages, Sunny was treated Significantly Cushier by the slavers than Lulah bc she was younger and viewed a bit more like a pet than a fighter, and they haven’t really spoken to one another before the rescue, so their rough start happens at this point. Cue Missa and Tubbo # Struggling to keep these two feral children from each others throats while they keep searching (‘Chay was literally never this bloodthirsty, the heck???’ -Missa, holding two backpack leashes apart while the girls are trying to strangle each other)

Meanwhile on the Boreas: CHAY AND TOMMY REUNION POG???? Techno formally adopts Chay according to his culture (think Mandalorian, but to the left) and Chay has enough language to understand, but not enough to inquire about, yknow, whether Going Back To Earth is an option. As far as the Boreas crew know, it isn’t: Earth is a no-fly zone and Chay’s been out here for nearly a year and a half. They have no idea how they’d begin to get him home.

Then finally, on a Syndicate-owned spaceport in the middle of nowhere, Missa finds the Boreas and sees his kid across a crowded bazaar. They hug, it’s super dramatic, very tearful, (Phil and Kristen are already planning his room on the ship: if they’re gonna coparent, they’re gonna do it Right) and after a bit of waffling, both Chay and Missa decide it’s for the best if they spend some time in space before heading back to earth, what with the whole “definitely stole a star fighter and wanted by the government, the entire world knows about aliens now” bit. There is fluff. There is cultural sharing. There is hair braiding. It’s amazing.

Then comes my literal favorite space au trope Ever: a few days into the new and improved Boreas gang’s voyage, their ship is boarded by (shock, horror) a group of Human Pirates and the crew is Immediately captured. Turns out: it’s kinda hard to keep the existence of an entire galactic community from Everyone on Earth, and these are guys who, similar to Missa, yoinked a spaceship from their military and went rogue. (I’m putting Quackity here, cause I love charismatic villain Quackity and I think it works) they pirates are very VERY “humans are gonna expand to cover the universe” “might makes right” “come, join us, and together we can rule the galaxy” about it when they realiz Missa and Chay are aboard, and the Boreas crew honestly expects Missa and Chay to join them. They’re human! They speak the same language! They value the same things! Obviously they’re gonna take that way out, we wouldn’t even blame them! (Techno feels pretty betrayed but Phil/Kristen/Tommy just look resigned) Missa and Chay play along, pretend to hate their ‘alien captors,’ and arm themselves “to help them secure the ship.”

What follows is a rather emotionally charged but Very Very Cool sequence in which Missa and Chayanne use the skills they gained in their unfortunate struggles across the galaxy to Clean House, clearing their home the ship room by room until they’ve got a pile of bloodied and unconscious or dead humans and a very very shocked new family. There might be a bit more plot after this as the family settles, perhaps a sequel made of short stories, but this is generally the end.

The epilogue is five years later, when Fit Emsi, head of the new Intergalactic Human Intergalactic Relations Organization and Expansion Section (HIROES) has his monthly checkup call with Missa and Chay, who’re having a blast with Techno and Phil and Tommy traveling the universe. Fit calls them in to consult in cultural stuff during the negotiations with, yknow, the Actual Galactic Government, the one that views the Syndicate as a crime organization, but it’s pretty well known at this point that Mumza is In Charge Of Things on the Downlow, and Fit’s still Chay’s godfather for heavens sake: there’s simply nothing the government can Do about it. Tubbo has adopted Sunny and Chay took one look at Talulah and decided “Thats My Little Sister.” Phil apparently has had a crisis recently related to some kind of ancient evil ex long thought dead, but is on the road to recovery. Everyone lives happily ever after, the end.

#molten rambles #mcyt #dsmp #qsmp #fanfic #fanfiction prompt #au concept #qsmp chayanne #qsmp philza #qsmp technoblade #technoblade #philza #emduo #emerald duo #bedrock bros #ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED TUMBLR #DO YOU NOT SEE MY VISION #IS IT NOT GLORIOUS

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