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#dream smp fics
winterzsurprise · 1 year
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Unholy || Karl Jacobs
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Pairing: Karl Jacobs x fem! Reader
Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.
Words: 6.4k
Tags: Overstimulation, priest! Karl, switch!Karl (he whines and comes first does that count?), porn without plot, rough sex, floor sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, priest kink, religious kink (i guess), cursing, dirty talk, name calling.
This is a fucking mess because I forced this one during my biggest writer's block but HEY ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED AFTER MONTHS. I'll go fix the mess later on, I am ready to pass out.
As always, constructive criticism is welcomed. I would like to hear what I should change and what not :DD
Archive
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The nights where the wind howled against the corners of the church are always the most insufferable nights, Karl observed. 
It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, ready to spew their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the thin plywood wall.
It's amazing how confident they are in confessing their sins just because their faces are obstructed from his vision.
It was always their disloyalty, either a far-away admiration situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms and another room. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens. 
They marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.
Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.
But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favourite food on the table or at the sight of you.
Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.
It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how graceful and attention grabbing you are without effort 
It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.
Your vanilla scent tantalises him, taunting his bound hands to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.
Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your face crumple into an expression of pure pleasure.
As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through leaving nothing, not even a piece of your bone, until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue in his waking and resting state.
It was a morbid thought a person like him shouldn’t have but his feelings are far tamer than what his mind lets on, still they remind him of the sinner he once was.
A man who lust over someone, whose hands became more tainted and occupied with every day passing with her growing closer to him.
He's no different from the others he swore to never turn into, the only difference was the cassock he wears, a sign of his affiliation with a religion while the others wore casual clothes.
Would you run if you ever saw the foul, revolting scenes his mind conjured for him at the deepest of nights when sleep felt like a tedious task and your smile taunting his very being?
Today was unfortunately one of those nights he dreaded yet welcomed so warmly like a friend, the stings of the chilly night on his cheeks is the only thing grounding him. The silence in the chapel is torturous, enough to make him wish for the usual boring confessions from the town folks.
Until the double doors creaked open and came calmed footsteps approaching the booth, it sounded nervous and jittery, making him wonder if this person's confession is more than adultery or lying.
Karl couldn't help but be hopeful that it'll be a different topic tonight.
He still wouldn't mind Susan telling him of her recent adventures with her neighbour's husband or John sluggishly recalling his latest fuck after work when his wife is worried sick for him at home.
It's not like he could even interfere with their lives. The last thing Karl wanted is being incorporated into a drama.
Upon hearing the person take a seat, he starts. "Good evening, what brought you to this seat, my child?"
There was a beat of hesitance that hung between them, heavy and tense, like the weight of this person’s sin on their shoulder. Maybe this night will truly be different. 
"Father, I have sinned."
Karl's heart fluttered in his chest, cheeks heating upon realising who the person sat on the other side. What kind of atrocity have you done? Maybe this secret of yours might repel him, straighten him up, wake him up from his daze.
He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. "How so? Tell me so I can pray your sins away."
There was a long pause that followed, Karl thought you fluttered away in your nervousness but soon, you spoke once more.
"I lust for someone and I don't know how to act upon it..."
Never have his heart fall to his feet faster than when he heard your whisper, an angry blob rearing its ugly head at the back of his mind, his stomach churning uncomfortably as his mind raced with thoughts of inquiring you more about this intense affection you feel for someone.
Just the thought of this someone he doesn’t know lingering in your mind, making your heart race… His blood boiled vehemently in his core, lighting up a faint pain in his chest as they circulated around his body.
The stretched stagnant silence between them was broken by your sigh as you continued your tale, Karl couldn’t be more thankful that you did, fearing the words that might escape his mouth will scare you off for good.
“I’ve only been in Kinoko for two months now but never have I ever fallen for someone as fast as I did for him.”
Your voice trembled, not only in nervousness but also a hint of shyness, the same tone when people are sheepish and blushing when they introduce their crush to a friend. His jaw clenched, his fists turning white and his nails digging straight into his skin, itching to drive itself to the nearest solid item near him but he knew he had to keep his composure.
He can’t be acting like a child who didn’t get the toy he asked his parents for.
“So not only do you lust for him but also love him?”
“I-I do, father.”
He was prepared to hear your admission but to hear it straight from you, his heart crumbles to his feet, eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Fate is truly cruel to those who're believed to be showered with blessings. Karl tilts up his head, he still has a confession to hear.
Is there really no chance he could ever be yours? 
Yes, a whisper at the back of his head said. It was already hopeless to think he had a chance in the first place.
He knew well enough how tight the rosary had bounded his hands, of course he never stood a chance. You know his boundaries more than he does at this point, his logic blurring whenever he sees you pass by, a passing breeze with your scent is enough to render him heedless.
At his heavy sigh, you called, anxious. “Father?”
“What a naughty girl you are. Lusting for someone who’s not your husband... What would the lord think of you now?”
He has no idea what compelled him to say such a thing with a seductive voice. He should give up already the logical part of him knew that but the other part of him urged him to continue, to hold onto the thinnest thread of hope that maybe this man you’re raving about is him.
It was delusional but can you really blame a man in love?
“H-he already thinks of me sinful for wishing to him every night… for someone to bend me over and fuck me rough like I’m nothing but a toy.”
A delicious shiver slithered down his spine at your words, urging blood to up to heat his cheeks and down between his thighs. He groaned softly, your soft voice matched with vulgar words sending pleasurable jolts down to his length.
You sounded so sultry, a succubus disguised as an angel descending to break him. It was dangerous to listen to you but he couldn’t help himself. Your voice holds the promise of a heated night lulling him closer to your arms.
“Tell me, do you ever touch yourself for him? Wishing it was his fingers and dick inside you?”
You responded with a soft groan, it was miniscule yet he almost bolted from his seat to cross the very boundary he was adamant to keep.
“Yes father. Every night I dream of him making me cum over and over again, not stopping even when I tap out.”
“What a mouth you have there. How bold of you to ask God himself for a good fuck and talk dirty to a priest."
Stop, the logical part of him whispered, he was crossing the boundaries placed between the light and the dark. But his heart that thudded harder in his chest and his cock that stirred in his trousers fogged his mind.
He’s too far gone to even try and leave.
“And what are you going to do about it?”
There was a challenging tone in your voice, condemning him to his fall from heaven and into the hell of your own making.
The string of constraint snaps and he’s on his feet. Karl walks out of the booth and into the other side, throwing the curtain open to see you look up at him with wide eyes, surprised and eager but he could see the glint of mischief in them.
There’s a lot of things that raged in his mind, actions he could do with you at his mercy. But instead, he sighed, mind clearing a bit as he straightened up.
“Step out of the booth and kneel in front of the cross to pray, I will baptise you once you show remorse to the lord."
He watched intently as you stood up with shaky legs, approaching the wooden podium noiselessly, the silence growing intensity with every footsteps taken. 
It was suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.
This is crazy, this is crazy. His thoughts bounced around his mind but he could care less, he started this and he will see through it all.
The stained glass windows casting a shadow over the figurine nailed on the cross, sculpted face tilted down, its expression ever firm yet it looked like iy was frowning at him for a split second.
It was spine chilling how it felt like its eyes were made to glower at him with disgust, judging his very being at where he stood. Karl's guts twisted at the thought, fear rising up to his throat only to dispese the moment you kneeled onto the red carpet, waiting for the priest to arrive and deliver his blessing, waiting for no one but him.
Your prayer left your lips in hushed whispers with both hands cupping each other close to your mouth. With the moon beaming down onto you, highlighting your figure underneath the oversized button up you wore. It was unfair how his desire showed no intention of stopping while you remained calm kneeling in front of the god’s hanging figurine.
The church gate closed and the lock echoed with a loud metallic clang and you shivered noticeably. Karl had to lock the main gate, nobody could enter the premises without his permission and no one could interrupt his moment with you. 
Heaven knows he'd run away if anyone were to ruin the already fragile mood.
"Father?"
"Can't have anyone entering such a holy space during a cleansing, you wouldn't want anyone to see how much of a bad girl you are, do you?"
Karl has never been as nervous as he is now. Not even when he moved out of his parents' house nor when he rose to stand in front of the masses for the first time as a priest. 
Yet there he was… A pin-drop interruption away from cowering in a corner. Both sides of himself are stuck in an on-going tug of war between his human desires and his god-fearing heart screaming at him.
Even every step he takes towards the front where you kneel and shiver with his approaching footsteps felt like he was striding towards his death.
His eyes wandered back to the divine sculpture pinned between mismatched panes of colored glasses. Karl's chest tightened before he averted his gaze in favor of paying attention to you.
God wanted his children to live happily and this is one of the things that'll give Karl joy, surely the divine and benevolent God could grant him this one sin.
But seeing the delectable tremble that shook your body after his words, his human desires pushed further front. He wanted to see your reaction, ached for a glimpse of how your cheeks flushed dark in his presence when he crouched in front of you, hand reaching up to pinch your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
There was something addicting with the way you easily surrendered control to him with so much trust made pride swell in his chest, something about the sight of you obediently kneeling with hands splayed on your thighs and staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with desire. A hunger he has grown unnaturally familiar with, befriended it even.
He couldn’t help but wonder if those eyes will retain its warmth and crave for his touch if you ever caught a glimpse of his mind whenever he thought about you.
"Before we start, tell me now if you want to back out, princess."
The rosary hanging from his neck scorched his skin, their round beads digging into his skin like an apparent annoyance. The accessory weighed heavier than any other day when he took it off and held it in his hand, a reminder of his duty as a priest who has made the pledge of Chastity, the same promise he’s about to break for you.
But if a ‘no’ ever escapes your lips, no matter how loud or hushed it is, he’ll be willing to stop in his tracks and move districts. 
He couldn’t bear the thoughts of you looking at him with disgusted eyes.
“Darling?”
You let out a shaky exhale. “Yes,  Father Jacobs.”
He grinned. “Good girl, now start praying.”
Karl watched as your eyes grew comically wide in shock, cheeks burning in humiliation as you fell to your chest, no doubt ashamed of assuming differently of his words. He held back the urge to laugh, no matter the setting, you never fail to be adorable.
But those worries dissipated once his large hand took yours with urgency and pressed the rosary into your hold.
Of all the hands he’s seen having the accessory hang from during the Sunday masses, he could confidently say that yours is the greatest of all. He wondered how your wrists looked when tied tightly with it.
“You only stop if I tell you to, alright? If you disobey, there will be consequences.”
With a nod, you started muttering your prayers and he went ahead to claim the lone bottle on the counter a few strides away.
"I'll start the baptising now."
But instead of going through the whole ordeal of sprinkling bits of the liquid on you like a proper priest would, he uncapped the bottle and poured its contents on you.
The water is truly holy, he thought as he stared at the sight of you in wet clothing.
You only gasped as the liquid drenched your shirt, sticking into your skin and revealing the bold red lacy bra you wore. The colour complimenting your skin so perfectly it hurts, it pains him that he's not seeing it properly.
"My apologies, the bottle broke. That shirt must be uncomfortable, we can proceed without it."
He went around you with hands cupping your shoulders as he kneeled, giving it a comforting squeeze before he reached around to undo two buttons. Your breath hitched when the collar loosened, he knew deep within that it was from the excitement and arousal yet he couldn’t help but be worried.
Karl would rather die and never see you again than be hated by you after using his power as a priest to force you into agreeing to this.
"Hey, are you sure you want this?"
When you nodded, he poured all the contents of the bottle onto your head, unsatisfied by your response. The fabric is practically translucent against your skin, what a sight you are to behold.
You gasped as the chilly temperature encouraged goosebumps on your skin but he could care less, he needed to hear you say it.
"Words princess. I need to hear them."
"Yes, Father Jacobs."
"Good girl." His words elicited a shiver from you as his hands made quick work of your shirt, shedding it off and tossing it somewhere in front.
The new uncharted skin revealed to him made his breath hitch, feverish and unmarked beneath his fingers, the goosebumps he felt under his touch sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, warmth exploding in his chest at your sigh. Such a perfect little darling for him.
Karl listened to your breathing as he lightly nibbled on your skin, careful not to leave a long lasting mark before drifting down to a more inconspicuous area to suck on. 
As much as he wanted Kinoko to know you've been fucked thoroughly tonight, he wasn't sure you'd like the idea like he does.
“Wearing such a promiscuous bra at a church, did you ever plan on repenting for your sins? Or were you hoping that someone would take you home and fuck you like the slut you are?”
“No sir, it's only for your eyes, Father Jacobs.”
He chuckled, pleased. “If it's a present for me, then shouldn’t I unwrap it?”
His pecks turned into open mouthed kisses and soon, he was laving the skin hiding your rapid heartbeat with his tongue. Every sigh you emit sends pleasurable jolts downward and further hardening his length, your every soft moan of his name frying his nerve endings alight, the feelings are intoxicating.
Your sweet, honeyed scent is addicting as it surrounds him and like the addict he is, he drowned in them, letting your perfume momentarily overpower his lust.
even then, he noticed the silence—save for your moans— in the room and swatted your thigh.
"I'm not hearing your prayers missy, don't think I've forgotten that."
If you continued, he didn't even realise. His focus zoned on the feeling of lace under his touch as he touched the hem before unclasping your bra and disposing them somewhere behind him, hands surged to your mounds, grabbing a handful and squeezing it gently. Hard nubs poking his palm, screaming for his attention, urging him to pinch them.
You’re so soft and pliant underneath his touch, surrendering and trusting him with your vulnerability and boy, does it feel good.
He felt like a high schooler who just saw boobs for the first time in his life, a teenager about to cream his pants at the sight of a topless woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if he explodes before even entering you.
"So pretty for me."
As his hands massaged both mounds gingerly in his hold and you sighed, nails digging into your skin as he pulled them before pushing back up to relieve the stings his fingers left. 
His fingers soon found your nipples and pinched them between two digits, sending ripples of pleasure in your system as he tugged on them before rolling the hard nubs in different directions.
But you needed more and he knows that from the way you crossed your thighs to close around nothing, attempting to relieve the burn in your inner core, the intense ache between them. Karl watched as your cheeks crudely flushed before he parted you open with his legs wedging in between them.
His long hands trailed down your legs teasingly, dropping to your inner thighs before they caress you up to your knees. 
"Father Jacobs, please."
His hands paused at your thighs. "What is it?"
"Touch me please..."
"But I am touching you." His hands dug into your flesh before grabbing onto them with an iron grip, the sting only igniting your core further.
"You know what I mean.."
"I don't, princess. Tell me what do you want?"
Arousal burned your cheeks a deeper red as you desperately grabbed his hand on your inner thigh and dragged them to your itching heat, body trembling when he cupped over your sex. 
Karl felt light as you pushed his fingers down on your prominent nub, moaning as you manoeuvre them to circle it, he could feel the fabric grow wetter with every touch and he almost passed out.
The heat radiating off of your clothed folds is enough to drive him crazy, he couldn’t even imagine how he’d react once he breaches your underwear and touches your arousal, revelling in them.
He could feel the burning phantom stare above him, shame curling around his heart as he stared down at your slowly writhing hips. Karl wasn't emotionally affected by his dirty talk earlier but now that he's touching your clit through your panties, the guilt weighing heavily on his heart almost made him run but your voice pulled him down, grounding him 
"Touch me here, father."
The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Asking to be finger fucked in front of the lord, aren't you a kinky little slut?"
You nodded feverishly, groaning as you pushed his hand down, mewling at the pressure applied to your clit. The fabric was absolutely drenched in your wetness and Karl almost blacked out.
He didn’t need to hear your words next, his hand pulling the cloth to one side before the other slid down into your folds, brushing over your clenching hole and rising up to press onto your clit. You moaned, hips following the slow swirl of his finger.
Karl wondered what he could do to you, there’s a lot of possibilities and he’s lightheaded at the thought of them. 
He could have you trembling from pleasure upon pleasure here on the floor but he could also treat you properly and calmly guide you to your climax. Karl wondered what could satisfy a minx like you.
“Karl please…”
Of course this isn't enough. He slipped two fingers in and you let out a strangled moan at the sudden but welcomed intrusion, back arching when he curled his digit to reach up to the spongy spot continuously that got your hips rising from the floor.
You moaned and panted so sweetly in his ears, hands gripping onto his sleeves as he plunged his two fingers in and out of your cunt at a growing frequency.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
His hand picked up a pace and you mewled, head falling back to his shoulder as your hips rose to meet his thrusts. The wet squelch bouncing off the walls with every thrust of his finger made your cheeks burn from embarrassment but they only goaded him on. 
The apparent burning phantom stare now numb to him as he opened your thighs further for his gaze.
Karl felt light at the feeling of your walls clamping around his hand greedily, sucking him in yet also pushing him out, it was maddening. His length ached behind the confines of his pants, desiring nothing but to plunge himself into your heat and die a happy man.
“My little princess is so drenched for me.” He slid another digit into your folds, smoothly joining the already inserted fingers in its increasing pace and you fluttered. “Don't you have any shame for spreading your legs in front of God?”
A slick slap tore a yelp from your throat, the sting lighting your skin aflame before his fingers plunged itself again into your hole with a renewed vigour, the new pace got your knees flinching to close but his legs wedging between them prevented it from shutting and instead opened it further.
You cursed under your breath, hands rising up to massage your breasts, pulling on your nipples as you moaned like a crazy woman in his arms.
Karl watched with bated breath as his hands retracted and reentered your cunt, throat tightening as your walls clamped onto his curling fingers with an iron grip. You were crumbling in his arms and he’s elated, he was enjoying his effect on you, whose body is sensitive and responsive to his every touch.
It was an addictive feeling and he’s obsessed.
“Fa-faster…! Fuck.. Karl!”
"Aren't you ashamed you're being finger fucked in front of the lord, princess?"
You clenched at him as your head shifted in his shoulder, probably to look at the statue above you both before moaning a little louder than before, undeterred by the omniscient eyes possibly watching him pump his fingers in and out of you.
He thrust his fingers in and out feverishly, like his life depended on it. With his legs keeping your thighs firmly open, you had no choice but take it all, hips thrashing wildly and bucking into his fingers. Karl clamped a hand over your mouth as your moans increased in volume, bouncing off the walls of the church.
He was proud he's making you scream but he wouldn't want to wake up any of the sisters nor concern the locals with your screams.
"I-I'm close..!"
"Come for me princess, give it to your darling priest."
The pressure from his palm bumping into your clit along with the rapid thrust of his digits soon got you trembling as hot white flashed behind your closed lids and you came. 
You screamed into his palm as your orgasm came without a warning, exploding and lewdly expelling liquid pleasure into the chapel floor before trembling pathetically in his arms, body reduced to the state of euphoria.
Karl retracted his hand with a squelch, raising it to eye level to revel in the wetness fully coating it, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at them drooping down before sucking on his fingers. Your flavour exploded on his tongue and he groaned.
"You taste so fucking good baby. Did so well for me."
Your hands weakly tugged on his pants and he knew what you wanted.
Because he also wished the same.
Soon enough, his pants were tossed somewhere behind him and he was left standing on his boxers. The stiff tent on them immediately caught your eyes and you reached out to free him from the constricting fabric, hand wrapping around his base once he was completely bare.
Karl dared to let his fantasies play in front of him as he watched your hand pump him slowly and you stared at him through your eyelash before kissing the tip of his cock with feigned innocence, he groaned.
What a minx you are.
“Can I taste you, Father Karl?”
“Later, on your back now, princess.”
His hands guided you down carefully, palm splaying onto your abdomen as if your body would break under miniscule of pressure, his words and actions not correlating as he naturally hovered over your body.
There must've been divine intervention when you laid, spread and vulnerable in front of him. The moonlight escaping the huge mirror behind the altar shone perfectly down on your body, highlighting your perky nips and casting shadows on places that made you look more desirable than earlier when you were kneeling.
Karl couldn't help but be thankful that he was rewarded with such a sight in this life.
"You're so pretty." 
His head bent down to place a haste kiss on your stomach and your breath hitched. The heat of his breath and the hovering weight of his length on your fold frying your nerve endings aflame as he peppered kisses all over your body.
"Karl, please."
A huge hand entangled themselves with yours, his face hovering on top of you, noses a hair's width. He could feel your exhales on your lips, awakening the butterflies in his stomach as you stared at his lips.
Breathless, he asked. "What do you want, princess? I need to hear it"
"Kiss me please." 
You didn't need to ask twice when Karl leaned down to capture yours in a slow dance. Time slowed, all you could feel was the softness and warmth of his skin under your touch and slightly chapped lips caught between yours.
He reached a hand to cup your cheeks, scared that you'll be another dream of his as you nibbled on his lower lip.
You only stopped when breathing became a problem, Karl pulling away first to place kisses between the valley of your breast before he rose to head level, silently asking for permission as he stared deep into your eyes.
No words were said but you understood what he wanted. His eyes reminding you of a begging dog as it stares deep into yours.
With a nod and a trembling exhale at the promise of pleasure he was about to give you, the head of his length parted your hole, walls clenching around him as he entered. A searing heat flooding your folds as you adjusted to his thickness while he carefully inserted himself into you.
His groan rumbled deep in his lungs and ricocheted in the shell of your ears before sending shivers down your spine, the pain of his iron grip on your waist only fueling the burn of lust raging in your veins. 
His firm composure shook, eyebrows crunching and eyes closing in unadulterated pleasure just from entering you.
Karl almost passed out, your warmth clamping around his dick so greedily is taking his breath away. Lord forbids he moves, he might come earlier than he'd want to.
God give me strength.
"Relax a little, baby." His thumb found your bundle of nerves and rolled it gingerly in tight cirlces as he slowly pushed all of his inches inside your cunt.
You felt full to the brim. You haven’t had someone as thick as Father Karl before but it was a welcomed change. Your breath stuck in your throat as you adjusted to his length, legs wrapping around his middle as your body decided between keeping him inside and ejecting him. 
Karl's head fell to your shoulders, grunting and panting as your walls crazily pulsed around him, crunching his eyes as he focused on something else other than coming earlier than he'd want to.
"I-I'm sorry, it's been a while."
His body shuddered as he struggled to withhold his own climax for you. There’s a sick part of yourself that glowed at the sight of his struggle, small whimpers erupting from his throat as he hid his reddened cheeks from your eyes.
Karl is breathtaking when he’s domineering and demanding but absolutely sinful when he’s panting and embarrassed. 
Experimentally, you wound your legs around his lower back and tighten around him. A strangled whine left his lips, the sound sinful yet so sweet as his nails dug into the skin of your waist. "St-stop it."
"Come on, Karl. I wanna see you come."
"F-fuck…!" He weakly exclaimed, his composure faltering as you squeezed harder. “Stop..!”
“But you look so pretty like this.” 
You wiggled your hips and he folds, his back falling and rising in quick successions before he pulled out and splattered his hot semen into your abdomen. You couldn’t help but giggle at this. A crisp slap echoed in the room, his hand leaving an angry mark on your left inner thigh.
"You are in so much trouble, young lady."
"Am I really?"
Your teasing chuckle halted in your throat when he plunged three digits into your heat, moving them at a feverish pace, not letting you adjust to the stretch. Your hips rose from the ground from the sudden influx of stimulation, trying to avoid his unforgiving thrust but the firm hold on your waist prevented you from moving away.
A wicked grin spreads on Karl's face as your legs flail around him, heels digging into his thighs and pushing him away but the man relents. 
“Stop moving and take it like a good little slut.” He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, squeezing hard enough to hurt but not to bleed.
Blood rushes up to your cheeks at the name, embarrassingly aroused by it. The stinging pain it brought became the pleasure that ran down to his length, hardening it further. You could only wail in place, his iron grip on your waist unrelenting.
Your body erupted in flames, every vein of your body scorched with the fierceness of pleasure running through them, every collision of his hips into yours sending sparks down your thighs. There was nothing but moans and whines leaving your lips as the coils in your abdomen tightened with every thrust and Karl knew it.
His eyes rose to your lust clouded eyes, down to your bouncing breasts and standing nipples almost begging for his touch before it fell to your cunt sucking him in greedily as you bounced on his cock. 
He burned the image of your sex-drunk state at the back of his eyelids, such a sight should be treasured forever.
A sloppy slap echoed in the chapel and your legs closed around his body, his fingers retreats from your hole only to be replaced by his length, immediately lodging himself to the hilt, his head almost nudging your uterus.
"Fuck!"
"That's right baby. This priest is fucking you good tonight."
He folded your legs to your stomach before starting his rampage, pulling out until his head remained before bottoming out in a flash and you screamed as you came apart without warning.
Even with your legs twitching and your sobs increasing in volume, Karl only continued, even daring to speed up. He didn't mind that you're about to leave bleeding scratches on his forearm, if anything, they're proof of this encounter. Something he'll surely remember in his waking days and sleepless nights.
Just like how he carved himself inside you.
You stuttered out incoherent words as he thrusted in and out of you in quick progressions, impatient and rabid. Pleasure and pain intermingled with each other so much your brain couldn't process which one is which as they blurred,  deeply cock drunk to w
There was something about how you're letting him witness such a sight, to let him bask in your lust driven state that makes his heart grow. 
So trusting and so perfect for him, God himself is truly generous to grant him this opportunity.
"K-Karl, please..! I can't—"
"You can baby, now give me another one."
As if his dick continuously poking your g-spot wasn't enough, his hand moved down to roll your protruding bundle of nerves and you swore you saw fireworks behind your eyelids. 
Pleasure flooded and fogged your already sex-addled mind, your own thoughts overshadowed by your own arousal and you screamed. Karl watched your shaking thighs with sadistic glee before the dam broke and you squirt.
Your throat grew hoarse and dry as your climax tore a moan from it. Karl pulled out until the tip and plunged back in, albeit slowly this time, his ears tuned to your incoherent blabbers as he chased his own high.
“I-I can’t anymore.”
His palm felt like spring after a harsh winter when it splayed on your back and rubbed your skin gently, comforting but it did nothing to your shaking legs. “Just a little bit more, princess. Can you do that for me?”
You only hummed a response, there was nothing you could do with weakened limbs and a traitorously hungry cunt despite the stings of pain lashing across it. His groans rumbled deep into your middle. 
“Next time, I’ll fuck you properly on a bed, treat you like a princess and a cock sleeve that you deserve. Would you like that baby?”
You nod, tears spilling down your eyes as his hips collided into yours, the promise of a next time lost in your muddled thoughts. It didn't take long before thick strings of his cum flooded into your insides, his own climax triggering yours and your body shook.
Karl couldn’t help but chuckle as your greedy cunt constricts around nothing to keep his seeds from spilling out. Seeing his come ooze out of your pulsing cunt sent tremors down his spine but he has to stop now, you’re already spent tonight.
Later.
He rose to pick your lax figure up from the floor and forced you to sit on the nearest pews before going around the room to pick up your discarded clothes. Karl decided on forgoing his t-shirt to use it to wipe his essence staining the wood and your skin, your wordlessness made him nervous.
You could be still gliding from the state he reduced you to or maybe you were regretting everything, either way, Karl is scared, you could see it in his eyes as he gingerly wiped you down and dressed you up until you gathered the strength to do it yourself.
Laying on the floor indeed gave you back aches and with the weakness of your limbs from your previous endeavours exhausted you incredibly, the comfortable silence of the room only pulling you closer to sleep, something Karl immediately took notice of.
“Did you regret it?”
You cupped his cheeks, keeping his eyes firmly on yours before shaking your head. “No, I don’t.”
“Wanna stay the night?”
“If you promise to let me hog your blankets.”
He grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. “Of course princess.”
301 notes · View notes
amintyworld · 2 years
Text
Illusion - A C!Tubbo Origin Story
EDIT: Repost because Tumblr somehow blocked this post from showing up in tags for no reason. Thanks, Tumblr. /s
A/N: I’M BACK, BABY! After a whole year, I’m finally back to posting! <3 Thanks again to all who’ve been so understanding, patient, and supportive this past year while I’m been dealing with shit, I appreciate and love every single one of you. I’m hoping to get back into writing and posting more often, so be on the lookout for that!
Speaking of which, this has been a WIP since BEFORE my break, and I’m so excited to share it with all of you after months of work. It’s in a series where I write angsty fics for some of my amazing and awesome mutuals, this one is for @benzel! Please go check out their blog and give a follow if you want because they’re such a chill person. With that all being said, let’s get into the ANGST! - Your author, Minty
TW: Character Death(s), blood/gore, murder, wing injury (?), flying, grief, eating, and fire mention. (If there’s any more I need to tag, let me know!)
———————————————-
Tubbo loved his house. He loved the lavish garden that surrounded the cottage he called his home. He loved sitting by the window and watching the bees float from flower to flower. He loved laying under the old willow tree and watching the branches wave in the wind as if they had a mind of their own. Tubbo loved walking among the rows of fresh fruits and vegetables as if he was on a tightrope, always careful never to fall on top of the precious plants. Tubbo loved the crisp smell of the garden when it was ready to harvest and eat, it always made his mouth water. His father always said that it was a special talent of his - always knowing exactly the right time to pick and store the crops at the peak of freshness. The food always tasted slightly better when it was picked then, strangely enough.
Tubbo loved the fireplace. Fire always looked so pretty, and felt so achingly warm against his skin. During rainy and snow-filled days he’d be glued in front of that fireplace, watching the ashes cackle and burn to his heart’s content. His obsession earned him the nickname ‘Firebug’, a name that his father always cooed at him fondly during those cold nights and days, ruffling his hair just right and holding him close. The fireplace to Tubbo meant stories, worlds built up by his father’s lips that described daring heroes and warriors that battled evil in its many forms - Even one of his favorites was about a mortal winged warrior and a goddess of death. Tubbo would cuddle close in his father’s embrace, wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire, hearing his father’s stories - always slipping into Dreamland by the third one. His father would look lovingly down at him and press a fond kiss on his son’s forehead before carrying him off to bed.
Tubbo’s father was a healer, and often many villagers would visit him at his cottage for medical assistance. His father’s office had a rack always fully stocked with glowing potions that Tubbo was always forbidden to touch. Whenever someone knocked on his door frantically, they’d always slip into that room just off the main hallway, before closing and locking the small goat hybrid out. His father would tell him how dangerous it was whenever Tubbo would whine about being left out of the action. He’d always sigh, looking at his son with a smile and promising that when he was older, one day, he’d be able to go inside and help him with clients.
One day his father forgot to shut the door, and Tubbo’s ears perked up in interest as he strained to hear the muffled talking through the walls, his curiosity always getting the better of him. The stuffed animal toy was held limply in his hands as he listened.
“Sit down over here, okay? Just relax, I’ll get you patched up and on your feet in no time.”
“You’re very kind, sir. Thank you. You truly are a gift from the gods, as they say.”
“I am no celestial gift, rest assured - simply a man doing his duty.” His father said, laughter hidden in his tone. “A man running out of stock, mind you. I presume the raiders have moved closer?”
“I’m afraid so, sir. They’re artfully skilled, trained… our men are just holding on as we speak.”
“Hopefully reinforcements arrive in a few days’ time. For now, I’m humbled to be of service.”
The wounded client coughed violently for a few moments before answering. “And I to you, sir.”
—————————————————-
Every morning, Tubbo would wake up wrapped in a comforting, lulling warmth as the sun peered through the windows, slowly and peacefully awakening him. He’d be greeted by the faces of the other stuffed animals on his bed, his hand-carved drawers and small mirror laid across a beautifully painted forest green. Every morning Tubbo would wake up with a smile, unknowingly hugging his small bee plush closer, as if to wake it up for the day as well. Every morning he woke up safe. Every morning Tubbo woke up at home. 
This morning, however, Tubbo awoke not to warmth but to a chilling, windy coldness that seeped into his skin and made him shiver. He curled into himself on instinct, clutching the small bee plushie closer to his chest. The sun brightly beat down on the small child as he moved, the sunlight filling his eyes suddenly as he was startled awake, rubbing his sore eyes as they adjusted to the light. He was surrounded by trees that stretched far, far, far above him, so tall they could touch the heavens. It was at this moment that Tubbo realized he was in a cardboard box, almost like the type he’d see crowding the attic. Was… was he in the attic? But the trees…
Confused, the young boy bravely peered over the box.
Well, this didn’t look familiar at all. There were rocks, moss, and leaves scattered all over the ground, overgrowth spilling around and blocking Tubbo’s view as he desperately searched for a landmark. The more he realized how lost he was, the more panic rose in Tubbo’s chest. “Dad!” He called out desperately. “Dad!”
Only silence greeted him—the wrong kind of silence.
A loud explosion to his far-right made the young boy scramble back down and into the corner of the cardboard box. He hugged his knees and his small bee plushie close to his chest. His heart beat faster and his mind scrambled with one question and one question only - What was that?! Suddenly stories from the older kids in the village resurfaced, stories of grotesque and horrifying monsters that lurked in the dark forests and preyed on the souls of children who wandered just a bit too far into their territory. Another explosion made Tubbo close his eyes in fear as he whimpered. Where was Dad? Tubbo wished more than anything for Dad to be here and hold the small boy close in his arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. But he wasn’t. He was alone. Why was he alone? Why did Dad leave him all alone?
Just when the silence became so unbearable the child almost missed the monster noises, what were most definitely sharp claws hitting stone made tears leave streaks down his face as he sobbed. “Leave me alone!” A shadow crossed over his cardboard box and without a moment’s hesitation, Tubbo buried his face into the plushie, desperate for some kind of comfort.  Something moved to touch him, making him panic more. “No no no no no no no…”
The voice was warm like magma cream. “It’s okay, I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”
That… didn’t sound like a monster…
The man’s face was worn with age and time, probably much older than Father. His hair seemed slightly messed, the buttery yellow reaching the tips of the older man’s shoulders. A green and white striped hat sat atop his head, the large brim making more of a shadow. He wore what seemed to be a white tank top and pants with a bright green robe and a bright red heart necklace around his neck. Tubbo wanted his father, he wanted to be with his father at home. Please. Tears streamed down his face before he could stop them, making his bee plush damp.
“Shh…” The man kneeled beside the box, wasting no time and wiping away the tears from the child’s face. “It’s okay, you’re fine, nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise…” Tubbo hugged the plushie close as his sobs came to a close, silently looking at the man curiously. He’d never met anyone without his Dad before, he didn’t know what to do or say. The man seemed kind, though. A sort of gentle kindness that some part of him clung to, that he needed. 
After a few moments of silence that felt like forever, the man smiled at him and moved to the side of the box, leaning up against a tree. Stretching his back, Tubbo could see two large gray wings come into view. Bird wings. Tubbo couldn’t think of many people he’d met with wings before. They were cool - the sunlight filtering through the trees made the few silvery feathers reveal themselves. Starstruck, the child left his bee plushie behind as he got on his knees to get a better look over the cardboard box. “Woah…”
The blonde man paid no mind to the stares from the kid and smirked when he saw the dazzled look in his eyes. He held out an apple. “Hey, uh… you hungry?”
Tubbo looked back and forth from the man to the apple. Father always got mad at him when he didn’t ask permission to get stuff from strangers. He didn’t want his Dad to get mad at him, but… he wasn’t here… was it okay? Just as he was contemplating his situation, his stomach began to growl. A bit embarrassed, he looked over at the man, who let out a hearty laugh. 
“I think that’s a yes.” The blonde smirked. “Go ahead, take it. It’s all yours.” Anxiously, Tubbo slowly moved to take the apple, nearly dropping it, taking it from the man’s grip. He held it in his hands, giving the blonde a smile as he moved to sit cross-legged inside the box. Without a second thought, Tubbo bit into the apple flesh, enjoying the snack. The man turned and produced another apple from his bag. “Don’t worry, I’m hungry too.”
Tubbo wiped a bit of apple juice away with his sleeve as he swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. No one’s going hungry, not if I can help it.” He smiled fondly after a few bites. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”
“Tubbo.”
“Well very nice to meet you, Tubbo.” The man said, tipping his hat to the kid, who giggled. “My name’s Phil.”
“Phil.” Tubbo smiled to himself before taking another bite. “I ‘ike your wings.” He muffled, bits of apple in his mouth. 
Phil laughed. “Slow down, mate. Don’t talk with your mouth full, yeah?” Phil took another bite before speaking. “But uh, thank you. They’re pretty, huh?”
Tubbo nodded, eyes widening with stars as he came to a realization. “Are you a bird?!”
Phil’s face was a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Well, kind of. Someone really special gave them to me.”
Tubbo couldn’t get his bite of apple down fast enough. “Who?!”
“Now now,” Phil chided. “That’s a story for another day.” He finished his apple, flinging the core on the ground a good distance away. 
“Aw, come on! You gotta tell me!” The child whined, and Phil fondly smirked at the kid. He sounded just like Tommy. The avian’s mind briefly wondered about the chaos that would surely be unraveling with those three gremlins left alone for the afternoon, and he laughed at the thought. 
Looking over at the kid fondly, he couldn’t help but notice how young he was - no more than five or six. “Maybe later, alright mate?” He silently promised the kid. “But now, I think it’s time to leave the box… it’s not safe here, okay?”
Not safe? Tubbo was pretty sure he figured that out by the second explosion. It was odd, though. He couldn’t hear any monsters anymore. No hissing or groaning or growling. It was… strange. There were so many, he was sure of it! He’d heard so many…
…where did they go?
Though he was terrified, he slowly crept toward the edge of the box to peek over once again. The wind whistled through the trees high above, blew through his clothes, and made him shiver. Sunlight made the thick canopy glow, high up above the two, and his eyes filled with stars as his fear melted away. The dew made the forest shine like glitter.
Magic… Tubbo thought to himself with a smile. 
He liked the forest now… it was much quieter. Much safer.  Maybe when he yelled at the creatures to get away, they listened? He must be pretty scary, then. Scarier than whatever was out there before. Yeah - nothing was gonna scare him now! He smirked at the thought. Phil shouldered his satchel as he stood, the full length of his wings finally revealed. They were gigantic, and reminded Tubbo of the size of the hallway rug back at home - the weaved fabric stretched to the end of the long hallway, billowing like a sheet whenever his father would shake out the dust. They’d make a game of it, too - his Dad would use it to his advantage during tickle fights full of giggles, trapping him in the woven fabric once it was all clean. Though it was a rug, it was soft to the touch. He couldn’t help but be consumed by the thought of having his own wings for a moment, soaring through the breeze before Phil spoke again.
“Do you know the name of your village? I can take you home…”
Something leaped out of Tubbo’s chest at the thought of seeing his Dad again, that look of worry on his face from whenever he ran off and got lost at the market. The way his eyebrows would knit together and come undone at the sight of him. When he’d rush over and scoop Tubbo up into his shaking arms and hug him, lecturing with wetness in his eyes that he needed to stay close when they’re in crowds.
A longing, sinking feeling caught his stomach, and his eyes flashed to the ground.
In an instant, Phil got down to his level, his eyebrows knitted together like his Dad’s would, a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay mate, I promise. We’ll find your parents and get you home in no time at all.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m a pretty fast flier.”
“Wait… you can fly?!” Tubbo’s eyes were filled with stars, his mouth a shocked smile that grew ever the wider.
Phil was growing ever fonder of the kid with each passing minute. He chuckled again. “Did you think they’re just for show?”
———————————–
Tubbo was timid, but Phil would be lying if he said the kid wasn’t brave. Phil carried him piggyback style, his eyes searching for an opening through the thick canopy. Despite the child’s protest, the bee plush was tucked securely and safely into his satchel for the flight. Tubbo’s small arms clung tightly around his neck.
A small patch of sunlight led to a clearing. Perfect. “Hold on, okay mate?”
“Okay.” 
He allowed his wings to stretch to their full height, making sure the passenger wasn’t disturbed. He bent his knees down and lept into the air. A gasp left Tubbo’s lips as he squeezed tighter on the grip for a moment in fear. Philza couldn’t help but smile as he soared up and up and finally out of the canopy and into the cool air. He shivered excitedly at the takeoff, letting it whip his hair around a bit. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he drifted and the wind blew through his feathers, letting himself enjoy the brief moment.
And, from how Tubbo shifted and the small sharp intake of breath… he was enjoying it too. 
Tubbo’s grip slowly relaxed as they soared through the clouds. The sun was in the middle of the sky, casting its buttery yellow light over the clouds, making them look like swaths of golden fleece. Tubbo felt like a giant looking down at a world that used to feel indescribably large, now something he could fit in the palm of his hand. His eyes scanned the treeline with interest as a blurry of fur, a wolf pack, ran through the trees below. They looked so tiny, any fear he had for them before, of village elders’ warnings… didn’t matter. He couldn’t help but giggle. They flew over a massive body of water, the child watching with wide eyes as dolphins leaped out from the surface of the water and back again.  “Wow… it’s so pretty up here!” Gathering courage by the second, his arm left the grip on Phil as it raised to the sky. His fingers brushed across the fluffy golden clouds, wisps of cold air ran through his fingers in small bursts, like breaths of crisp autumn wind. A wide smile crept onto his face as he lifted both hands as if he was on a rollercoaster. “Wooooooooo!”
Phil’s heart felt light. It had been quite a while since he took any of his kids for a fly, and he wouldn’t admit it, but he missed having a passenger on his flights. He got so busy lately with repairs to the house, making farms, trading with the Nether and nearby empires, training the twins… he hadn’t exactly spent as much time playing and hanging out with them as he’d like. Tommy loved going out on flights with him when was pretty young around the forest, Wilbur or Techno tagging along occasionally. They loved it when he tossed them into the air and caught them, when he did loops or when he sped up. He made a mental note to do that more often, and a playful grin made its way onto his lips as a lightbulb went off in his head. “Hang on, Tubbo-!”
“Wha-?!” Before the child could answer, Phil began speeding up as he held on tighter. The child’s heart thumped against his ribcage as he looked around in interest, wind smacking against his face and pushing back his hair. He giggled. “Faster!”
Phil chuckled fondly. “Okay, faster it is.”
The stretch felt satisfying as he sped up, his wings still a bit sore - he hadn’t pushed them more than needed for a while. He began to sway back and forth, rapidly heading toward an island in the middle of the ocean which he knew housed some villages. A large dock in the distance captured all of the kid’s attention as they flew overhead, he climbed up and pointed over Phil’s shoulder. “That’s it!” He shouted, and Phil slowed as they began their descent into a village just underneath the trees.
The landing was a bit bumpy. Phil’s feet stumbled as the ground met them quicker than he preferred, tightening his grip on the child to make sure he didn’t fall off. He caught his breath as Phil’s hand raised to meet the trunk of a large oak tree, a satisfied smile making its way onto his face. Tubbo slipped off easily, the drop not too far. He moved toward the front, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright, Phil?”
“Don’t worry about me, mate.” Phil brushed it off. “Just been a while since I’ve done tricks like that.”
Tubbo held back a small smile, awkwardly looking to the ground. “It was pretty fun.” After a moment of his thoughts, he added: “I’m sorry if it hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Pfft, no way. Just a workout, I promise.” Phil’s smile turned reassuring, gathering his bearings and standing back up to his full height. “Anyway, you said this was your village?”
Tubbo nodded. “Yeah, Tanglewood. The trees here are really, really big.” His hand pointed upwards to a cluster of dark oak trees on the other side of the dirt road in front of the two. “They look really scary at night, like giants.”
“Well, you’ve beaten bigger trees, so I don’t think there’ll be much of a problem anymore, huh?” Phil pointed out, making the kid’s eyes shine like stars.
“Yeah! I’m scarier than them!”
Phil fondly smiled. “Alright then, lead the way. You’re my protector.”
Tubbo’s jack o’lantern smile could light up cities, Phil thought to himself. The kid quickly reached into the satchel and held the bee plush up towards Phil. “He’s a guard too!”
“Yeah,” Phil nodded. “A bee guard. The best guard, besides the Brave Tubbo of course.”
Tubbo giggled as he walked ahead, turning toward the dirt path. He briefly looked behind him for Phil to catch up. The kid angled himself in a warrior pose, clutching the plush under one arm and using the other to point to the right. “Dis way! Come on!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Phil responded as he shifted the satchel’s weight on his shoulder, following the boy as he gleefully rushed down the path toward his home. 
After a few minutes, a group of wooden houses came into view. A large sign adorned the entrance, created with fallen branches and sticks that spelled the town’s namesake. It was a gigantic village, at least compared to the villages Phil was used to visiting. In front of them, the smooth dirt path turned into cobblestone. The main street. Marketplace tents dotted the road but stood empty of inhabitants. The houses seemed run-down, with cracks in the glass windows and scratches on the wooden walls. Confused, Phil looked up - it was a bit past midday. Villagers should be up by now, the marketplace busy with trade and the shops overflowing with the day’s customers. However, the town stood empty as the two entered further inside its walls, hollow like a husk.
Where was everyone?
“Tubbo, stay close!”
As Tubbo ran forward toward the town center’s fountain, his cheerful sounds of glee echoed throughout the deserted town as if it were a cave. Phil’s eyes were quickly drawn to a limply hanging sign of a dressmaker. The paint was chipping and fading, the only redone bits of it were the striking black letters of the title - ‘Vella and Her Various Glowing Gowns’. He walked closer, moving toward the door and leaning up to peek inside. The oak door fell backward, slamming against the floor not with a slam, but a clank. Phil’s wings fluffed up as his hand hovered over his sword. His eyes searched the darkness from his position in the doorway, the hybrid’s eyes not yet adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. Shapes… squares - a counter with a register, perhaps? - and curves standing still. People?
He held his hand up in surrender. His voice gathered power to broadcast across space. “Hello…?! I’m not here to hurt you. I arrived with a friend, a lost boy from here?”
The silence was eerie as Phil stepped inside. Something hit his side and he moved and sliced, breathing heavily as something landed on the wooden floor with a thunk. Phil’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he looked around for his next target. When he found nothing, he looked to the floor.
…A mannequin. His slice went through its middle, stuffing leaking out onto the floor. For a moment, he felt like a complete idiot as red embarrassment found itself on Phil’s face. He rolled his eyes. How silly. He leaned down to clean up the mess he made in someone else’s shop, moving the pieces closer to examine them. Metal gleamed from the light in the room, a chainmail chest plate looking up at him. Armor.
It clicked in his mind like two puzzle pieces. Why would a dressmaker sell armor? Because the townspeople needed it more than clothes. They needed protection… They were fighting something. No wonder no one was around. 
A small light glowed through the open crack of a door at the back of the shop. Phil stepped carefully past the mannequins, as quick as the wind itself. He pressed his wings against the wall next to the door. With his diamond sword drawn, he braced himself for battle. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door quickly. 
A gasp left his lips as light flooded the small room.
A woman, eyes weaved with worry, stood still as he took her final breaths. Her hand, crimson from holding back the blood spilling from her stomach wound, reached out in front of her toward the shadow that surrounded her. It embraced her in its clutches, planting a kiss on the victim’s forehead, its eyes filled with a melancholy sadness. The shadow stared down at the creation with pity and remorse, setting the body gently on the ground. It kneeled over her, bowing its head as it tucked a bit of its long ebony hair behind its ear and turned its attention to the small glowing ball of light in the air.
Despite the circumstances, Phil couldn’t help but smile. It was her. Lady Death. The love of his life. 
As the ball of light, the soul, flew around her she giggled sadly. Her voice was a warm whisper. “Alright, little one, it’s time to rest.” She lifted her arm slightly as the soul flew up into her sleeve, collected. Then, her smile growing a bit warmer, her eyes landed on Phil. “My angel…”
“Kristin. I’ve missed you.” He spoke softly. The hybrid was always giddy when he said her name. Something special only he knew, only he was allowed to call her as. Phil was careful not to step closer than the doorway. She was Death, after all. 
“Once again fate has yielded us these unfortunate circumstances, I’m afraid.” She sighed.
“Any moment to see you is worth it.” Phil grinned. 
Kristin’s smile fell. “I’m sorry to say we haven’t much time. The boy is in danger, Phil.”
“…What?”
Lady Death arose from the floor. All warmth suddenly sapped from the room as she looked down at the body with a wave of well-hidden anger. “Heathens have painted this village red. I must implore that you and the child leave immediately. He’s escaped my touch for now but if he stays any longer I fear the many years of life he has left to live will be cut short. Too many have carried him to you with loving arms and last breaths, don’t let it be in vain.”
Phil bowed his head slightly. “I… I understand, Kristin… I hope to see your smile again, on a lighter and brighter day. Till then, I’ll cherish this with all I have.”
“My Angel…” Bit of shadow licked around him as he shivered in the pseudo-embrace. Her touch was deathly cold. “You know I’ll never be too far away.” Despite how the world shifted, Phil knew for certain their love could never change. As certain as the sun itself. 
But now, a new certainty came to him. A certainty that he and Tubbo would leave this place, and all its untapped pain, far behind. There was no other option.
As he burst from the shop, he looked around for the boy quickly. Phil was sure the last he saw of the kid, he was near the fountain. Dried blood hid under feet and scarcely splattered and spotted on buildings and benches. Figures stood still in the silent darkness of the windows, splayed across the floors or propped up, hidden, behind tables or chairs. Dead eyes watched Death’s Angel as he called out for the child, wondering if he too would soon join them. Even though Phil knew he would regret it, he outstretched his wings and took off, scanning Tanglewood for any signs of movement as he gritted his teeth through the pain. 
——————————————————————–
Tubbo didn’t like the silence as he walked up the path toward home. He could swear he saw eyes watching him from the forest just beyond. He hugged his bee plush tight to his chest as he stood tall, marching along as he tried to be brave. After all, he wasn’t scared of the monsters or the trees, they were scared of him! Even if he began to walk a bit faster down the path, he wasn’t scared. He was just trying to get there faster.
He was excited to see his father again and tell him how brave he was, how he saw wolves and dolphins, and all about Phil’s awesome wings. He smiled as he thought about how happy his Dad was gonna be to see him. What if Dad used one of his potions to make him wings, and maybe Phil could come to visit?! That would be so cool, to fly on his own. Maybe Phil could take him out to see more animals! He’s always wanted to meet a squid. They would give the best hugs, at least in his opinion. 
He briefly wondered how many patients came by today and if his Dad was tired. Well, if Dad was tired, he would just surprise him when he woke up. That would be the BEST surprise!
When he reached the garden, Tubbo paused.
Tubbo didn’t like the garden anymore. All the vegetables were gone, and the fence around it he helped paint was shattered and broken. The blue paint chipped and left dots along the grass that Tubbo couldn’t help but think looked a little pretty. Splinters littered the grass so much that they looked like seeds as Tubbo was careful to step around them. Father said never touch splinters, and to go get him if he saw one. The soil was overturned, smushed by foot tracks. Tubbo had half a mind to go find the culprit and tell them off - no one stomps on the soil! That was like, rule number one! But a small part of the kid’s heart broke in sadness after how hard they both worked on it, how much time they’d spent on it, all for someone to ruin it. 
Who would do something so mean?
His eyes were wet as his stomach flipped and flopped in uneasiness. It twisted itself in knots when he turned to look at the house. His house. Their house. Their home. His stomach sank as all the air left his lungs. Their small cottage made with glowing birch and oak, blue window shutters and flower boxes - reduced to nothing but charcoal cinders and ash. Black marked where chunks of the house once stood. The roof was completely gone, windows too. Only a few walls still were left standing, about halfway burned. It wasn’t home anymore. Tubbo hated the black. He hated this and wanted to be home. He wanted to be safe and warm and home… but he didn’t have a home anymore, did he?
A few tears slid down his cheeks as he hugged his plushie tight and ran toward the door, going to open it and twist the handle when it fell down in front of the kid. It’s hinges burned to goop and it’s pretty carved number design erased. Tubbo jumped back, out of the way, gasping in shock. It was really gone… all of it. Someone destroyed everything. They didn’t have anything anymore, except each other. Tubbo knew now more than ever he needed to find his Dad, they needed each other. How else could anything be okay anymore?
His bee plush was hugged so tight around his chest he began to gasp for air, craving the comfort hugs used to be able to give. He quickly rushed inside, looking around for his father desperately. “Dad? Dad?!” His shoes crunched against his father’s special important potion bottles, remains that littered the floor. What remained of the carpet was faded, half of the fabric burned, and with it all it’s magic. The fireplace was smashed in a few places, but most of the bricks stayed intact. The photos on the mantel were gone, though. Baby photos, photos of grandparents, and… the photo of Mom. “Dad… Dad, please, I need you…” He sniffled into his plush as he walked toward the remains of the fireplace.
Unfortunately, Tubbo didn’t have to look far.
His father was perched against the side of the fireplace, head slumped on his right shoulder. He looked pale, as pale as Tubbo once had when he was sick. His clothes were torn, crimson from injury. A crossbow bolt was lodged against his side and his left leg. The two puncture wounds still spilled red that slowly rolled down his body and to the dirt. His face was bruised and beaten, nose bloody. A sizable gash around his chest, spilling nothing but blood. 
No. No, he couldn’t be… surely not. He had… he had to get some… some potions. He had to get some bandaids. He had to get something, something to make it better. Dad always knew how to make everything better.
Tubbo screamed. Tubbo wailed. Tubbo shook his father’s body, vision blurred with nothing but tears.
“Dad… Dad please wake up, you’ve gotta wake up… please… please…” He sobbed, jostling his father’s shoulder as blood soaked into his clothes and his plush, not that he cared. “D-dad… please… you’ve gotta wake up… you’ve gotta…”
His father didn’t move.
“Please…” He whispered, begging. “Please…”
A woosh of wings created a breeze that dried his cheeks slightly. “Tubbo-” Phil.
“Phil, you’ve gotta help, he’s hurt, my Dad’s hurt! He’s… he’s…”
“Tubbo…” Phil’s voice was soft, filled with a sense of sadness for the kid one couldn’t easily name.
“He’s gotta wake up, he’s gotta…”
Phil didn’t say anything as he slowly approached the scene, knowing that nothing could be said. He kneeled next to the child, bowing his head at the stranger. A man he only knew from Tubbo’s stories, yet… a man he will miss. He turned his attention to Tubbo, who still clung to his dead father’s side. He looked over at Phil with pleading eyes, begging for the impossible. Phil couldn’t give it to him no matter how much he wanted to, all he could offer was something simpler.
A hug.
Tubbo sniffed as he sobbed, Phil pulling him into the embrace as he rubbed circles into his back. Tears welled up in the Angel of Death’s eyes, tears he couldn’t hold back as easily, not even after living a million lifetimes. 
Everything was gone.
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(Reworking my general taglist, lmk if you would like to be added!)
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nyxmisfortune · 1 year
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The fower valley - Dream SMP masterlist
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Fluff-🍄
Angst-🥀
Romance-💐
Platonic-🌱
Polyamorus-🌼
Headcanons-🍁
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Wilbur soot
Lime-tinted love letters 🍄💐
Tommyinnt
Ranboo
Tubbo
Technoblade Charlie Slimecicle
The zombie apocalypse is a lot more fun with friends🌱🍄
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Hey does anyone have the link to the dsmp superhero fic where Hero!Tommy has to go warn Supervillain!Sbi about Dream and Sam's plans to build the prison.
Edit: if I remember correctly it's about 3 chapters long if that helps.
Edit again: I found it so here's the link [x] turns out I kept 100% looking over it over and over cuz I forgot to read the bottom part of the description :/
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cr0wqui11 · 28 days
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Stares at my old Dream SMP one shots from 2021/2022 with disappointment in my eyes
(50 notes and I’ll share one of them)
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theminecraftbee · 6 months
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my other favorite slightly-less-stupid technoblade headcanon that i hold to dearly despite the march of fandom is that he is NOT A PIGLIN. he is a PIGMAN. there is a DIFFERENCE. this is entirely based on the fact that, like, okay he's a hypixel and pvp guy, so he basically always played 1.8. so when he got to dsmp and saw the new nether he was like. what the fuck are those. where are the zombie pigmen. those things have weird ears??? those aren't my brothers??? and combined with the fact he frequently would find out something about modern minecraft and go "what the heck when did that happen" i think he's like. one of the last of the original pigmen. the ones that became zombie pigmen before the whole piglin thing happened. he's not a zombie simply because he's built differently. he's sort of trapped in a different era. he's just chillin' though. because he's technoblade and he's built differently.
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edgarallanpoestan · 2 years
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okay so no one is following this yet, BUT the second chapter of iwcgb is written, i just need to type it up and make sure it isnt dogshit
also i have a college laundry room meet cute bc uhhhh i say so. i wrote it for my friends in our gc, and the original characters names were braxtonly and lucas. probably ill make it karlnapity, or at least two of them, but we shall see. i want it to be a one-shot, but i can promise nothing
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leva-prava · 1 month
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Also a sketch for my little fantasy au :DDD
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lesbianchipbastard · 4 months
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it’ll be 2030 and i’ll still be opening ao3 posting dsmp fic btw. the world may forget but i won’t let it. i’ve silenced my fears of this fandom dying by simply deciding to Become the fandom if it ever gets too small. i will be dragged out of this shitty minecraft role play kicking and screaming because you Cannot stop me.
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eggsplice · 5 months
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They’re parasites. You know what it means to be a parasite, right, Tommy? You know it real intimately.
(Excerpt from 'when a house is both hungry and awake' by logsteds)
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pidgedee · 3 months
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and here is my second art gift for @misotofu this fic in a box - c!clingy pirate designs!! they were so fun to draw, the sillies Ever <3
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winterzsurprise · 2 years
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Unholy Teaser! || Karl Jacobs
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Pairing: c!Karl Jacobs x Reader
Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.
Tags: Priest! Karl, probably inaccurate ways of how the church goes, dirty thoughts, definitely pwp, and spoiler alert, more unholy things to do with holy water, the rosary and the altar (probably, let's see how it goes).
Words: 448 (future work will prolly surpass 3k)
Inspirations: Priest by Sierra Simone, that priest guy from the manwha Stepmother's Marchen, and Sam Smith's Unholy
Release Date: Unknown
I'd be lying if I said I posted this teaser to see if people are interested and definitely NOT because I want to get pressured to finish this, nopeee definitely not. There's three drafted smut plots with c!George and c!Sapnap, I have to at least finish one of them pls :''DD
Archive
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The wind howling against the corners of the church is always followed by the most insufferable nights, Karl observed. It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, spewing their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the wall.
It was always their infertility, either a far-away admiration/lusting situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens, they marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.
Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.
But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favorite food on the table or at the sight of you.
Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.
It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how gentle yet sensual you are.
It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.
Your vanilla scent tantalizes him, taunting his hands bounded by the rosary to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.
Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your shocked face that’ll soon crumple into an expression of unadulterated pleasure.
As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue.
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tabooballoonpolice · 23 days
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It's rough to be a sleepy bois inc enjoyer these days.
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rozugold · 4 months
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The two times Dream recognizes Tommy
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high-in-chaos · 1 year
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niki nihachu 🥰
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hellothereimaloser · 9 months
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veryy choppy first try animation for SIRENNN AAAA ahsash
EDIT: THANK U SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT U GUYS <3
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