#mianite fanfiction

[coolcattime]

Under the New Moon [Mianite Noir AU]

Relationships: Discussed Syndisparklez and Foxxsize

Characters: Sonja Firefoxx, Tucker Jericho, Tom Syndicate, Captain Capsize, Skipper Redbeard

For the past six months, a new body has been found in the city. Each killed in the gruesome sacrifice to Lord Dianite a fortnight after the victim disappeared off the streets without a trace. Not a link between the victims, or at least that’s the story the public have been told. In reality, the police force has long since come to the conclusion that the murders have been committed by Tom Syndicate, the cities’ most infamous mafia boss, and written off investigating rather than deal with the man with the city in his pocket. All expect for one detective.

Having stolen the case files, Detective Sonja Foxx is attempting to come up with any lead on the case as with the current pattern the next victim is due to disappear any day. However, even with the help of Private Detective Tucker Jericho, no clues are appearing, and she may need to cross the line she has desperately been trying to keep for herself if she wants to prevent another victim from suffering a terrible fate.

AO3 Link

Mianite Magical Noir AU Tag

The darkening light as the sun set behind the horizon gave the already grim city an atmosphere that caused even the most relaxed soul to look over their shoulder at whoever was walking behind them. Such an action wouldn’t be questioned given the growing fears of the general population that had been slowly but surely mounting throughout the past few months. This had never been the safest city, what with the rampant crime and corrupt police force, but at the very least it was safe enough that the average citizen could shake off their fears of any of those terrible things affecting them. As long as they kept their head down and their nose clean, they could avoid ever getting tangled in the messy web of crime that ran the city and they could live their lives unconcerned. It had been the sort of fear that people could live with. However, a darker threat had begun to fester. People were disappearing, criminals and law-abiding civilians alike, the only connection being that each disappeared when walking through the streets at sunset. That and that each of their bodies had appeared weeks later in gruesome scenes that previously would’ve only appeared in the deepest parts of the criminal underworld for the worst of traitors.

Murders, of course, had never been unheard of in the city. In fact, they were worryingly common if you actually counted them all rather than writing off the disappearances and accidents that occurred to those that needed to be taught a lesson, however none so gruesome had ever infested the city like this. Ritual sacrifices were the best way to describe the scenes, and that was in fact how they were being described by any of those talking about them. Each victim was seemingly an offering to Lord Dianite. Typically, with a killer like this, one that targeted seemingly average civilians, one that the papers were nicknaming and turning into a bogeyman, the police force would be investigating despite their corrupt nature. However, in this case the nature of the scenes, and the only seeming connection that the victims had, had made them back off. It wasn’t public knowledge, of course, but the minimal investigations had revealed that, even if completely tangentially, each of the victims had some connection to The Syndicate. Of course, the same could be said of nearly everyone in the city, but Tom Syndicate was an infamous worshipper of Lord Dianite. Thus, the Chief of Police had decided that the man had surely just taken a religious turn, and that the murders were very likely just messages for his underlings to stay in line while showing his god favour. That was more than enough reason to not look into the killings any further. After all, it was only one a month, it was barely a concern as long as police weren’t being targeted. So, each case was officially declared closed and unlinked, and not a single officer had noticed that the case files were missing from where they were meant to be filed.

On a not frequently travelled street, down a set of stairs on the front of an old townhouse, was the door to the basement office of the Jericho Private Detective Agency. It was the sort of place that one would never find unless they were actively looking for it, and it was also the sort of place that only needed clients that would put in the effort to seek it out. Inside the currently illuminated office were two people. The first sat behind an oak desk nursing a flask was the private detective that the office was named for, Tucker Jericho. His presence was hardly a surprise as if he wasn’t there, the lights would be out. If he could have his way, they would currently be off as he would’ve far preferred just a lamp to better soothe his growing headache. The lights, however, stayed on at the insistence of the other person in the room as she paced between shifting through the files she had snuck out of the precinct and staring at complete annoyance at the growing mess on the pinboard they had set up. It was looked at oddly for a police officer of any ranking, let alone a detective, to be working with a private investigator. It was frowned upon for them to give out confidential information to them, and it was getting a write-up and forced time off territory to give case files that were decidedly not being investigated to them. Yet, despite all of that, here Sonja was, with half a dozen ‘closed’ murder case files she had been slowly gathering since the third murder, attempting to actually do some work.

The two made an odd pair. Tucker was, to put it simply, pessimistic, even compared to the attitude of a normal private detective. The city was a cesspool of crime kept in place by the very people who were meant to prevent it. The number of times someone had come to him directly because the police had failed to even look into a crime was enough to make anyone bitter. The fact that he often had to work within the underworld himself to get anything done just felt like further kicks. Sonja, meanwhile, was more optimistic than anyone in her position ought to be, even if said optimism was slowly, if still far too quickly, being drained from her. She had truly joined the force originally because she wanted to make a difference, but that wasn’t how things were done. You arrest the unimportant petty criminals or whatever patsy was being passed off as having done a major crime. You take bribes, look the other way, force a confession out of an innocent party and witnesses to keep their mouths shut. Actually trying to do good ended up with all the actual criminals she arrested walking free anyway unless they wanted to be locked up in the first place, and herself very much the odd-one-out of the police force. And she was fine with her status of being the uptight idiot that needed to relax and understand how things were done, but she wasn’t going to let these murders be ignored because of who was doing them, and if Tucker was willing to investigate them, she would happily take any help she could get. If only the two of them were actually getting anywhere.

“There has to be some clue as to why they’ve all been killed, something that actually connects all of them,” Sonja said, beyond frustrated that so far even the apparent mafia connection was so thin that it gave absolutely nothing to actually investigate. It was the only loose connection between them all, but none of them had a strong enough connection to The Syndicate to actually finger it as a motive. Sure, it was completely possible that all of the victims were just people that had unfortunately managed to annoy the mafia boss, but not a single one of them were important enough to warrant being killed like this, let alone all six of them. Not that being murdered was warranted for any reason, but Sonja was really trying to understand the mafia boss' theoretical logic. “Has he just started a cult? Because I can’t think of any possible mistake that a waitress could’ve made that he’d need to make this sort of example of her.”

“No, if he’d started a cult, he’d never shut up about it,” Tucker muttered, trying not to get lost in his annoyance at how open the mob boss was about all his illegal activities. Why keep quiet about your criminal empire when you have every high-ranking person in the police force and city government in your pocket? It was what, to Tucker at least, made the murders so puzzling. Despite them all being attributed to him, Tom hadn’t said a single word about them. No claims of gaining Lord Dianite’s favour, no open bragging about how he’d gotten one over on those who had tried to cross him. For once, it appeared that the man was playing things close to his chest. It was infuriating, somehow more so than if he was openly taunting them.

“Well, he must’ve told someone about all this. It’s too much for him to be doing by himself, so one of his underlings must know something.”

“Great! We just need to figure out which of his trusted capos he told and somehow get them to spill despite the very real risk of them being murdered,” Tucker said, not hiding his sarcasm as he took a swig from his flask. His tone caused Sonja to glare. Obviously, she knew the futility of getting confessions from those loyal to Tom, they’d be more likely to confess to the crimes themselves than sell him out, but she wasn’t suggesting that. Arguably what she was suggesting was worse, not least for their wallets, but it would almost certainly get some sort of results.

“None of Tom’s guys will talk to us, but Capsize will,” Her words almost caused Tucker to choke. Not because the idea was unbelievable, but because her suggesting it was. Sonja, the one who did things by the book and recoiled from the idea of even remotely working within the underworld, had just suggested they go and buy information from a woman whose trade other than information was black-market goods. Sonja tried to look confident, despite knowing the delicate path she was treading. She had never made a deal with Capsize, her finding out about her ‘business’ had been an accident in the first place. The women were friends, a word carefully chosen by the two each time it was said as if they wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite come to terms with that fact. They’d met in a bar on one of Sonja’s off days and begun talking and quickly began meeting up more. And Capsize had been easy to talk to and interesting, if remarkably mysterious about her own occupation. An occupation that Sonja only actually discovered one night due to her brother dragging away a belligerent customer that she definitely wasn’t meant to see. Apparently, the reluctance to talk about her business had been Capsize’s attempt to protect her from the moral issue that she’d become friends with a black-market merchant and information broker. And Sonja had, despite what most would call her better judgement, decided that this was okay as long as their relationship stayed strictly personal and never strayed into a professional one, but right now people’s lives were at risk if they didn’t find a lead.

“Sonja, do you understand what you’re suggesting?” Tucker said, unable to say that the idea was bad but still in complete disbelief that she had suggested it. Honestly, if anyone could have information about Tom committing the murders and not be too scared of him to tell them it would be Capsize. It would certainly be trouble, as he was one of her clients and – worse – one of her friends, so her asking price for information on him was always ridiculously expensive compared to her already stupidly expensive fees. However, given the seriousness of the situation, money wasn’t exactly the thing he was worried about. Rather, his reasoning for questioning was far simpler. “I know that solving cases with me isn’t exactly by the book, but making a deal with Capsize, that’s actually dealing with a criminal. Are you actually okay with that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t know the implications and I’m fine with them,” Sonja said, tone subdued. She had always been told that eventually she’d reach a point where she did something because ‘she didn’t have a choice’, though the detectives that said so mockingly had obviously been referring to taking bribes or something else for her own personal good, it didn’t make the idea feel any better about what she was going to do. However, she really truly didn’t see another choice in this situation. One murder a month. By the pattern another disappearance was due any day now, their body to be discovered in another two weeks. How long could she let that keep going because she didn’t want to break her own moral code? It was just some information, that was all, then she’d never need to think about doing anything like this again. She tried to ignore the tiny scratching thought that this was how it started. It always started as a case of just this once. Well, that was something to ponder on another dreamless night of regrets and worries that were becoming far too common for her. “I’m more worried she’ll turn me away as a customer.”

“She can’t turn us both away, I’ve dealt with her too many times for that. But, if you’re actually sure, meet me here tomorrow evening. We’ll head to the Titled Scales together. Hopefully we’ll still have money left for drinks after paying her.”

🌑 🌑 🌑

A few hours later, on the far end of town, the docks were quiet as all save a handful of people had left hours before. There were few workers that remained, those that took the extra pay to be on the lookout for emergencies and to wait for the few ships that arrived by night. All but the newest of them knew to stay clear of the one warehouse still lit up at this time of night, the most experienced on the shift dragging away and lecturing those green enough to try and approach those entering. What they were meant to do was repeated until every person who worked the night shift knew the rules. Ignore the warehouse and its owner and those who go to see her, deny it having occupants to anyone sniffing around asking questions, and don’t interfere with the unmarked crates carried inside. Do that, and you had nothing to worry about from the woman and her bodyguard. Most found that working the docks was dangerous enough without a powerful enemy, so the warehouse tonight, as it did every night, went undisturbed.

Inside of it, a large office with a window overlooking the main floor glowed with light bright enough that anyone looking through from below would easily be able to describe in detail the two sitting inside. One was a man in a suit far too fancy for his current location, though the office itself was far too nice for a warehouse on the docks. It was pinstriped in shining thread and custom tailored, the type of thing that one would only wear somewhere it was so likely to get either dirty or ruined if they knew it’d but a trifle to replace. The other in view was a woman, dressed in a less flashy way, though only because her long navy coat decorated with embroidery was currently draped across the armchair she was relaxed in. Her trousers, shirt, and waistcoat were still custom tailored, she had a professional appearance to keep up, but they were the type she didn’t mind getting messy – today had been a business day after all. Hidden from such a view would be the bodyguard sitting just beyond the office door, leant relaxed against the wall reading as his shotgun sat on his lap. There was nothing he would be needed for, he was just there in case they needed cover for a quick exit, though he still kept an ear out for his sister in case the meeting did somehow turn sour. Most would expect that it would be possible at any moment for something to go wrong in a meeting between the city’s most feared mob boss and its most respected information broker and black-market dealer, but such an assumption would be wrong for this pair. While yes, this was a business deal, that was entirely a technicality as they were acting far more like friends having a casual drink while the newly unsealed box containing a pulsing gem sat on the low table between them.

“You seriously don’t want to know why I want it?” Tom Syndicate asked, his tone more akin to an annoyed teenager than a feared mob boss. His question was odd. Most criminals would be begging this woman for privacy, accepting any price she asked to make sure she didn’t ask questions and that she would protect their secrets rather than selling them on. He, however, had long since passed the need to keep his criminal activities a secret. Yet here his friend was, not even remotely interested in his reasoning for his latest purchase.

“If I questioned you every time you wanted an unusual artefact you have no reason for wanting, I’d be making a lot less money, Tom. I’d probably need to start selling dirt on you to make up the difference,” Capsize said with an unbothered shrug. She had her guesses as to what he might want with sealed magic, but actually knowing would be less than ideal if only half because she’d likely feel some need as his friend to talk him out of whatever he was planning. The other part was, well, she liked not selling information on the few people she called friends, so she liked having enough plausible deniability about Tom’s activities to say that she simply didn’t know when people offered her their life savings to try and get dirt on him. He, however, liked to make this extremely hard as he liked sharing in explicit detail every crime he had and was planning on committing. “Tell me in a week when you’ll have done something else, and no one will care anymore.”

“You’re the worst sometimes,” Tom said, almost sulking. She was always up to date on all the criminal secrets in the city, but always insisted on waiting to hear his. It was, in her own way, a compliment, but it rubbed unpleasantly against his impatience. At least a week wasn’t that long. “But, if you insist, let’s have another meeting in a week. We can call it a date and make Jordan jealous.”

“Jealous of which of us?” She said with a knowing laugh. Tom took a swig of his drink and pouted, refusing to admit out loud that he wanted the bar owner to be jealous of her. Seriously, why was it so hard to win the man’s attention? He was the most powerful person in the city and, frankly, he was being very obvious with his flirting. Capsize resisted rolling her eyes, understanding the troubles of being in love even if she questioned his taste in men. What kind of friend was she if she couldn’t help? “If you really want to make him jealous, I think we can pull it off.”

“Wait, are you being serious?” He perked up almost immediately and she almost laughed at the suddenness of the change. If anyone was listening in other than her brother, they’d think they had gone mad seeing a man so feared pining like so many love-struck idiots. Capsize might question his taste, but she supposed men weren’t exactly her forte in the first place. If her friend needed help, she could provide it.

“Course. You dress up all nice and go to the bar tomorrow evening. After I’m done with customers, we can get a private booth and have a very loud, very unsubtle romantic rendezvous that even Jordan won’t be able to miss,” She said. It shouldn’t be too hard. Even if the man was oblivious, the two of them knew how to command attention and the idea of them dating would be enough to turn heads, especially that of the bartender they’d be ordering drinks from. Honestly, it was worth trying just to see the look on the man’s face, but that wasn’t actually enough for her to do this for free. “And in return you can pick up Red’s bar tab for the night.”

“That’ll be more expensive than the gem!” He exclaimed, embarrassment hitting as he heard laughter from outside the door. Capsize merely smiled.

“I’ll be ruining my reputation. There’s plenty of people that I don’t want to think that we’re dating,” She said. It would take a good month to clean up the mess, she was sure. Again, totally worth it for the look on Jordan’s face, but it would be headache inducing. A night of paying for her brother’s bad habit seemed like a fair enough trade to her.

“Oh, you mean one goody two-shoes cop?” Tom truly meant to ask the question jokingly, as he was more amused by the two’s friendship (as Capsize insisted it was merely friendship) than anything else but Capsize tensed. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to worry him since it was a very un-Capsize-like reaction. She trusted their friendship enough to know he didn’t care, so why did she flinch at a joke? “Who’s said something to you?”

“No one.”

“No, you don’t flinch at jokes about this. We’ve been making jokes for months about your frankly unbelievable crush on the only cop in the city that won’t take bribes. Who’s said something?”

“The capo you sent to oversee the last delivery,” She said quietly, not liking how precarious the memory made her feel. She liked to keep her genuine fears hidden, between herself and Red behind closed doors, because even if she knew and trusted that Tom wasn’t going to have her disappear, his underlings had power themselves. One wrong move and her body wouldn’t be found, though that had been the exact opposite of what she had been threatened with. “He said you should sacrifice me to Dianite like you’ve been doing with the other traitors, gut me like a fish so people know what happens if they get close to that…”

Capsize took a sip of her drink rather than repeat the insult. She knew, obviously, that the sacrifice-like murders weren’t actually being done by Tom. They’d laughed at the idea when the papers had suggested it a few months back. If he was going to sacrifice someone to Dianite he’d made sure to sign his name in bold letters so he could get the credit, but it didn’t make her take the threat any less seriously.

“He tried suggesting he might do it himself, though Red managed to spook him off that idea.”

“Oh, it seems like someone needs to relearn their place in the hierarchy,” Tom spoke darkly, his whiskey glass held with a white-knuckle grip. People thought they could work for him and just run their mouths. Did they really think they were going to get away with threatening his friend and potentially ruining the gang’s relationship with his go-to black-marker dealer and information broker. Even without the personal side, if he ever lost favour with Capsize the number of secrets she could sell would be enough to ruin his empire. Someone going on an ego-trip and possibly causing an issue like that was an unacceptable liability. “Promise you, by tomorrow night he won’t be around to threaten you again.”

“Efficient as always.”

“I can’t have people getting too big for their boots,” They both spoke as if it was strictly business, as if Capsize hadn’t been genuinely scared and Tom wasn’t genuinely angry. It was easier that way. They both knew the lives they lead. That a single slip up could be all it took for their businesses to come crumbling down around them. But why worry about the endless possible ways things could end? The night was still young, and they were friends. So why stress when they could discuss their upcoming fake date the following night? It wasn’t as if anything terrible was going to happen anytime soon.

#mianite #mianite fanfiction #cat's fanfiction #noir au #sonja firefoxx #tucker iijeriichoii #tom syndicate #captain capsize #skipper redbeard

[mcytblr-flashback-fest]

MCYTBLR FLASHBACK FEST is a week-long fanart, fanfiction and other fanwork event for fans of Minecraft video content, running from May 14th to 20th, 2023. Organized by @conarcoin.

This event aims to highlight older sub-fandoms by using one key rule – your source material must have been made from 2010 to 2019.

The only other restrictions are that your content must not be sexually explicit, and your content must not focus on the real lives of content creators. Works should be set in Minecraft!

The tag for this event is #mcytflashbackfest. You can contribute as much or as little as you would like. More information about posting will be provided as the event draws closer.

Additional information under the cut:

The 2019 cutoff does not include content created at the very tail end of 2019 and primarily existed in 2020, such as SMPEarth. Your fandom of choice must have had significant time to exist within the 2010s.

Content without a set RP canon, such as Team Crafted or Technoblade's Potato War is okay so long as your work is set inside Minecraft.

Creators such as SkyDoesMinecraft who have later been outed as abusers should not be present. Characters a creator like this may have played from established RP canons like Mianite or Yandere High School are fine. Series like SMPLive toe this line - please err on the side of caution and just exclude them if you are unsure!

Series that span many years such as Hermitcraft are acceptable, but the season/era you focus on must fall in the time frame of the event. For Hermitcraft, that means nothing after Season 6!

If you are unsure if a fandom is okay, please send an ask to this blog and I'll look into it!

#mcyt #mcytblr #mcyt fanfiction #fic event #mcytflashbackfest #mianite #yogscast #aphmau #team crafted #mindcrack #hermitcraft #smplive

[captainwestchester]

All That Is, and Ever Will Be

#do not look at me this dude drives me up the wall #i’ve been working on mcyt fanfiction and arrgghbbhgh . Jordan #captainsparklez #mcyt #captain sparklez #mcytblr #mcyt fanart #mianite #so excited to force you guys into perceiving Dad Support Group Trio aka grian jordan and philza #also also force you all to realize i’m RIGHT!!!

[indiefox]

throwback to episode 30 of season two of mianite when after messing with the observation bot they spent 30 minutes screwing around in creative and reading fanfiction out loud

#mianite #fyreuk

[poltergeist-coffee]

1, 13, 19, and 20?

1. favorite theory:

the theory that the eggs don’t actually die, after they lose both lives they’re just being held somewhere by the federation because how else are the parents able to still get their last minutes to say good bye to their egg + lives of the eggs can be reversed so you could think they have infinite lives like the players but the federation doesn’t want the players to know that. they want to control the players and they do it through the eggs!!

13. an event or lore you’d like to see in the future of the smp:

i’m biased as hell and i know it’s way far in the future but i’d love to see how the qsmp would celebrate lunar new year… yes i know it’s in february… yes i know that woudl be next year but I DONR CAEW I JUST WANT TO KNOW!! (it’s because i’m chinese i just am so curious what it would be like TT)

lore wise i don’t know what i’d like to see from the qsmp :0 i think it would be cool if they implemented something like the purge in mianite s2 in the qsmp but that’s more of like an event then lore haha

19. favorite fanfiction(s):

anything by sannylity i fucking ADORE (they write slimeriana!!!! they have a tumblr and sometimes they post aus of them!!) but my fav fic from them is probably 3am haze <33

Reasons Not to Divorce Charlie Slimecicle by halftheway is another slimeriana fic i think about a lot :)) it’s pretty short but i love it

Fix What’s Broken by WhyB is a QCellbit centric fic about right after his first cucurucho encounter with the chainsaw <//3 i really likw how they describe the scar cellbit gets from that attack + he talks to richas and comforts him :DD

LAST BUT NOT LEAST!! Gnaw by I_Fear_I_Fell is an animation family fic and i just rlly like how they wrote their dynamic :”))

20. favorite fan-artist(s):

here’s some but this def isn’t all of them - bunnyqslime, miawmita, alienssstufff, fridgrave, blufox234isadumbname, and rakkuntoast!!

also a tinier list of artists on twitter i like because i’m pretty sure they don’t have a tumblr - AMORous_art, kiss hatchet and leroyy_zzz

#🔍 ask games

[thelastwalkingsoul]

Thanks @unclewaynemunson for the tag!!

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

Eddie, who Steve had hoped shared his blooming feelings.

Little Steddie Mianite AU drabble

No pressure tags! (Sorry if any of y’all have been tagged already)

@steveshairychest @stevesbipanic @undreaming-fanfiction @yournowheregirl @strawberryspence @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @willowworkswithwords @thefreakandthehair @henrystars

#tag game #thanks Anna! #souls steddie mianite au #steddie mianite au

[apollos-boyfriend]

the non-zero chance of ranboo and sapnap having read my mianite fanfiction haunts me every day.

awfully bold of you to assume ranboo didn’t WRITE mianite fanfiction

#muse talk #anon #he had a 100 chapter 50k+ words amdor x reader fic #<- none of these words are in the bible #andor* #fuck

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

Today I learned that there's Dream SMP fanfiction in fanfiction.net. Many are in the Minecraft category. Also found a spare Hermicraft fic and Empires fic in there.

I'm surprised none of them are under Web Shows or Web Shows/Minecraft crossover, especially the latter, which I spotted some Minecraft Diaries, Mianite, and Yogscast fics in.

#dsmp #dream smp

[syndianites]

would any of y’all be interested if i continued my Post-Season 2 Sparklington fic that features a life after the heroes fall back into their world and have to readjust to peace despite their trauma?

reblog if yes

#mianite #mianitefa #mianite fanfiction #sparklington

[lady-spieroles]

God(dess) Help the Outcasts

He lived in a world of duality, Mianite and Dianite, Order and Chaos, Red and Blue, Propriety and Discord. How could he be anything but an Outcast when he chose the forgotten Third God? 

Dedicated to Nerf House, @topazgirlygirl, @snowydawn17 and all the rest of the Voice Vibes crew <3 you all

Jordan had been born to a divided family. His Father was a follower of Mianite, his Mother a follower of Dianite. While this wasn’t necessarily the norm, it wasn’t frowned upon either. They lived in a world of duality, Mianite and Dianite, Order and Chaos, Red and Blue, Propriety and Discord. Everyone in their world chose one or the other. Neither were wholly good or wholly evil, just as no single person was good or evil, there were intricacies. However, people tended towards one side or the other, one God or another. In the case of his own family, his Father, a librarian, tended towards order and organization; so he, when he was old enough to choose his path, pledged himself to Mianite. Jordan’s mother on the other hand, an artist, adored spontaneity and was just generally, a disorderly person, her studio a mess of paints and brushes at all times. She had pledged herself to Dianite when it had been her time to choose. 

Their families had been surprised when they’d first fallen in love, but wasn’t that how the old saying went? Opposites attract? And when a follower of Order and a follower of Chaos had a son, was it any wonder that he trended towards the middle ground of Balance?

Jordan had never had an answer when the other children in school asked which God he would pick. His town was close to the Capital and was therefore mostly neutral, conversations of who they would follow were frequent. Rarely was there any negativity shown towards either decision, except when Jordan said that he wasn’t sure. They always looked at him strangely, it was normal to have all but chosen by the time you were old enough to understand who the Gods were. You couldn’t pledge yourself officially at the Temples until you were 16, but that didn’t mean most children didn’t already know. He became an outcast, not bullied per say, but mostly ignored, the strange boy who clearly didn’t know himself well enough to know who to worship. 

Despite this, he did well in school and between his studies and spending all his free time reading in the library where his Father worked, Jordan was quite clever by the time his final year of schooling came along. He left the school for the last time with the reputation of the outcast still on his shoulders but emotionally no worse for wear because of it. 

In all the years spent there, all the time they thought that he didn’t know himself, he’d known it to be the opposite. He knew himself too well. He knew that he would not pledge himself to either God. He would forge a middle path, a Balance between Order and Chaos. If he was alone in his beliefs, so be it, but they would be his. 

It was a trader that came from the far flung deserts that got his thoughts turning. He was manning the library for his Father when the trader arrived, dressed in rich blue robes. 

“I come to trade with Sir Conway.” The man said, voice accented and gravelly. 

Father had warned Jordan of this and had given him instructions and payment for the trader. “He’s not here, but I’m his son. I can help you.” Jordan explained, reaching under the counter to grab the bag of emeralds his Father had left for him. The trader nodded shortly but said nothing, producing a stack of three old books from his bag. The covers were dyed leather, faded and cracked with age, one deep royal blue, one burgundy and one a rich purple color. Three books for 10 emeralds was what his Father had said, so Jordan handed over 10 gleaming polished gemstones. The trader made a pleased sounding grunt and left the library without another word. 

Once he was alone again Jordan looked at the books, he could recognize the archaic spelling of Mianite’s name on the spine of the blue book and Dianite’s on the burgundy one, but he’d never seen the name Ianite before. Curiously, he cracked it open and began to read.

As he read, Jordan realized that this Ianite figure had felt the same way he himself did. They were between Order and Chaos, a third option, a third God. But why then had he never heard of them? Why had no one told him that his thoughts were valid? He spent the entirety of the day reading the book, trying to find the answers to his questions. 

He learned that Ianite was not a God, but a Goddess. She was the Goddess of Balance, sister to the Gods of Chaos and Order. Her domain was the End, something that shocked Jordan. He knew about the End but no one had been there in centuries according to the stories. Ancient Heroes of the Gods had entered the dimension and conquered it, slaying the beast that defended it. Was that why there was no mention of Ianite? Had conquering her domain in the name of the Overworlders done her some great harm? Caused her to fade from memory? Why would they have done such a thing?

Ianite had been different than the other Gods, he was able to gather as much from reading between the lines of the text. She’d been the least worshipped by the ancient people of this land. Her followers had been cast out for worshipping a Goddess of ‘contradiction’, instead of picking a side, they picked Ianite. Like he himself inadvertently had. But yet, he felt no shame in it. 

That book became Jordan’s most important possession. He poured over it’s every word, committing every last scrap of information about Ianite to memory. He scoured other books about the Gods, searching for mentions of Ianite or Balance or the End. It became his life’s goal, he would find the End one day, because it was there that all the secrets of Ianite were. 

He moved to the Capital, made a living in the bustling city by doing odd jobs and tasks. All his years of study and reading had given him such a vast wealth of knowledge that he could accomplish almost anything. It was during these jobs that he began to notice the disparity among the people, the different levels of society. He knew the Champions of the Gods lived here, their images and lives exalted by the civilian population, he’d come to recognize their names and faces the same as everyone else despite supporting neither of their Gods. The two men were friends he learned, practically as close as brothers. Jordan wondered, what it might be like to be so close to another person or to a God. He had a name for his beliefs now after all this time, a greater privilege than he’d ever expected when he’d chosen the third path years ago, but nothing more about her. It was also in the city that he realized that he may not be entirely alone in his beliefs. 

Every city had it’s lower class, the poor and downtrodden, the Capital was no different. It made pity twist in his stomach to see people pray to their Gods for wealth and glory, while at the same time ignoring the people directly in front of them who needed things as simple as food. He took to giving what extra coin he could spare whenever he saw someone in need because how could he, an Outcast to the Gods, ignore the outcasts of society. Sometimes it was a lot, sometimes only a little, sometimes it was a loaf of bread or an apple. Every time though, no matter what, they were grateful. 

One day, after Jordan had given him a loaf of bread and a handful of coins, an older man dressed in little more than rags, said “May Lady Ianite bless you in your kindness.” Jordan was too shaken to reply. He nodded and went on with his job, trying not to notice the knowing look the man gave him at his reaction. 

It was that interaction that reminded him of the path he’d set himself upon. He was in a place of fortune, unlike so many that he saw. He could afford the time and effort to learn all he could about Ianite and the part she played in the history of the land. He dove into his research, seeking out books and scrolls and legends, following every lead in hopes that one of them might give him the knowledge he needed. 

With each passing day and each new story he learned he felt closer and closer to this Goddess he’d never met. Most people went their whole lives without properly meeting their Gods, only the Champions interacted personally with the Gods, but Jordan felt so connected to Ianite already. 

‘Maybe in another time or another life you were her Champion.’ He thought with a wry chuckle while getting ready for bed one night. “Yeah, like I’d ever be a Champion.” He muttered to himself as he blew out the candle in his bedroom. 

“Don’t be so sure” A woman said in his dreams.

Days passed the same as they always had. He spent the daylight doing courier work and odd jobs, while the night was spent researching and learning. It was monotonous, until one lead brought him to the local museum. On display they had something unlike anything he’d seen. It looked almost like an enderpearl except it was pale green and blue with a dark streak through the middle that looked almost like a slit pupil. 

‘Legend tells us that an Eye of Ender was the key to discovering the entrance to the void world, The End, when the ancient Heroes of the realm ventured forth to conquer it in the name of the Gods.’ 

This was the link he’d been searching for. After years of effort, he’d discovered the last step. This was how to find the stronghold that protected the portal to The End. Jordan left the museum with a grin on his face and hope in his heart. 

It took him days to barter, purchase, or otherwise acquire the resources to create just over a dozen Eyes of Ender. He’d need a dozen alone to open the portal but he figured that if he calculated the trajectories just right, he could find the stronghold itself with less than 5. A week was spent preparing supplies for the journey and getting his affairs in order. Then, one final day was spent cooking and distributing all the perishable food he had throughout the city. He had no idea how long he’d be gone, no use letting things go to waste. 

Just before sunrise, he climbed to the highest point in the hills surrounding the Capital. Below, the city was just beginning to wake up, smoke trickling from some of the chimneys, people heading to the fields and the markets. The Temples to Mianite and Dianite, one of either side of the city, were lit in crackling firelight by the enormous ever burning braziers the statues of the Gods themselves held in their hands. Jordan took one last look, imagining what it might be like to have a third temple, a third statue, a third God. Then, he turned away from the city towards the wilderness beyond and threw the Eye of Ender as high as he could.

~~~

He was farther from home than he’d ever been. A few days ago he’d hit the desert and hadn’t that been interesting? All his life he’d thought deserts to be excruciatingly hot, but after days spent in a strangely cold desert, he owed mental apologies to every desert trader he’d ever questioned for wearing such thick, blanket-like garments. He’d nearly frozen the first night, huddling as close as he could to his campfire under the shelter of a large sand dune. He was close though. He had to be. If his calculations were correct he should be within a few hundred blocks of the stronghold. He still had two spare Eyes aside from the dozen he needed to unlock the portal. He could spare one. Sliding his sunglasses back in place in front of his eyes, he looked up towards the sun, throwing the Eye, it drifted and drifted in the direction he’d been travelling but then he noticed something on the horizon as his eyes tracked its path. Was that a tree?

Jordan ran through the sand as fast as his feet could carry him, tripping and stumbling as it filled his boots. It wasn’t just a mirage, he realized as he got closer, it was an oasis, a crystal clear pond surrounded by drooping trees flush with leaves and vines. On the other side of the pond was a crumbling stone structure, a ruin of some long forgotten building, but within it was a staircase that led below the earth. Two small obelisks still stood, flanking the staircase, each made of intricately carved lavender stone and capped with a pyramid of obsidian. 

A laugh of astonishment bubbled from his throat as he collapsed to his knees in the sand. He’d made it. After all this time. He’d found the entrance to the stronghold.

That night as he sat by fire, he reread his favorite sections of the purple book his Father had purchased all those years ago. It was worn down from years of use, the spine loose and some of the pages torn, the ink faded in spots. But that didn’t diminish Jordan’s love for it and what it represented. If anything he liked to think that Ianite appreciated the love he’d shown her book after so long. 

He fell asleep to the relaxing crackling of his fire with the book open on his chest, thinking about the possibilities of what lay ahead. 

“I’m so excited to finally meet you, my Hero.”  A woman whispered as he drifted into his dreams.

~~~

When Jordan entered the Stronghold, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He wandered the eerily silent halls, lighting the torches on the walls to mark where he’d been so that he was less likely to get lost in the maze-like complex of halls and rooms. There were remnants that someone had been here before him but he’d expected that. The stories told as much. What he hadn’t expected to find were signs that there may have once been an entire civilization beneath the ground. He stumbled upon dozens of empty rooms in all different sizes, fountains, storerooms, two libraries, a prison, and nearly endless hallways and staircases. Had there been people who lived here once long ago? 

Finally, after what felt like hours, down a darkened hallway, he saw an otherworldly glow. Jordan rounded a corner and there it was, the portal. It was elevated above a pool of lava, the blocks that made the frame glowing from their own internal illumination. It was the brightest room he’d been in since leaving the light of the sun behind. There were bits of rusted and cracked metal at the top of the staircase that led up to the portal. Whatever it had been, had been destroyed long ago. The portal was made of a strange white stone, capped with filigree patterns the same color as the Eyes of Ender. In the center of each was a rounded indentation of smoothed obsidian. 

He gently placed the first Eye of Ender in the closest spot, jumping in surprise at the bizarre, resonant sound that echoed through the room. With each Eye the sound changed in pitch and tone until he got to the final slot. Jordan took a deep breath and inserted the final Eye. There was a crack of energy and a deep thud of a noise, alien and unnatural. Where there had been an empty frame, was now filled in with a warping speckled void unlike anything he’d ever seen in his life. It had appeared from nothing and seemed to go on endlessly even though the logical side of Jordan’s mind knew there was lava beneath it. 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Ianite’s domain was beyond this remarkable and mystical portal. The answers he’d been looking for his entire life waited for him. And, if nothing else, at least maybe being in her domain would give him a chance that she would hear his prayers.

He closed his eyes and stepped forward in a leap of faith. 

When he opened his eyes he was greeted by a bizarre landscape of the same off-white stone of the portal and immense towering columns of obsidian. He could see enderman teleporting about, their lanky, ink dark bodies moving without a single step. He averted his eyes downward out of reflex, confused by the obsidian platform that hovered above the Void. Jordan’s heart stopped in his chest, the Void was a scary story, a warning from parents to children about being cautious how deep into the earth they went.  He’d never expected to actually see it in his life. Connecting this platform to the main island was a surprisingly wide path of cobblestone, worn and dirtied with age, but otherwise safe enough looking. This was more evidence that others had been here before him, the path was wide enough to accommodate multiple people at once with a waist high walls lining either side for safety. His thoughts turned back to the book and his thoughts that maybe, once upon a time, she had been worshipped the same way Dianite and Mianite were. There could be a Temple to Ianite somewhere on that island. 

Cautiously, Jordan stepped onto the path, pleased that it didn’t crumble or give any indication of failing. With each step he gained confidence and surety, eyes flicking upwards towards the pillars of obsidian, the researcher in him taking in every bit of information he could, above each pillar floated a white crystal, bobbing gently up and down. The stone that made up the island, endstone he mentally dubbed it, had a strange texture under his boots. There was an almost, sandy feeling to it, like the very top layer was loose dust. It made for a slick surface as he ventured deeper into the landmass.

The first thing he noticed was just how many enderman there were, reminding himself to keep his gaze low so he didn’t attract their attention. In the center of the island was a fountain-like structure made of bedrock, something he’d only seen on school trips into the deep mines. Next to the fountain was a monstrous skeleton, the skull of which was larger than Jordan was tall. It looked almost reptilian in nature, with a horned frill and long sharp teeth. The Beast, he realized. The beast the ‘Heroes’ had killed was a dragon, a creature from myth and fairy tales. 

As Jordan looked around further, he was beginning to fear that all this had been for nothing. There had to be more here, it couldn’t be just this. There had to be something else, something relating to Ianite. 

An enderman teleported across the island. Behind it, Jordan caught a glimpse of the same lavender stone the obelisks at the oasis had been made of. Curiously he walked over to investigate, eyes widening in understanding as it came fully into view. It was a Temple. A decaying and crumbling Temple, but a Temple nonetheless.  The roof was mostly caved in, only the front pediment was mildly intact, the lavender stone balancing almost precariously on top of a series of pure white columns, quartz if he had to guess. The walls of the Temple seemed intact enough as entered, wary and wondering. 

It was emptier than the Temples dedicated to the other Gods that he’d been in. No pews or places for private prayer, simply a large room filled with the stone remains of the roof. Purple flowers in varieties he’d never seen sprouted up from in between the cracks in the floor, interspersed with flowers he did recognize, lilies of the valley and lavender sprigs. The drooping white lilies were a symbol of returning happiness and the lavender a symbol of feminine elegance, his mother loved painting them both because of it. Moss and vines had somehow found their way in as well, growing uncontrollably up and around the remains of grand columns and archways. But the most eye catching thing was the statue of a woman before an immense and intricate stained glass window, her arms outstretched in a pose of strength and grace. It was her. Ianite.  

He approached and without really considering his actions, fell to his knees before her. He’d never prayed to a God before, had never felt that it was his right. But he’d seen others do it all his life, he knew how it traditionally went. He reached into his bag and pulled out a flint and steel, carefully lighting the end of a stick to use as a match. Surrounding the base of the statues were the stump ends of purple candles, melted to almost nothing, wicks blacked to charcoal. He lit those first, one at a time. Next he removed the offerings he’d prepared, it was said that every God had their favored items and the more valuable an item you presented, the greater blessing you would receive. With no knowledge of what she may want, he’d done his best. He laid diamonds and emeralds before her, as many as he could truly spare. But also, he presented the book that had sent him on this journey. He’d memorized every word and while he wasn’t sure what use it might have to her, the idea of offering something so significant to him felt right. 

Jordan looked up to her then, the statue. Much like the rest of the Temple, it had seen better days. It was cracked and broken in places, a finger on one hand missing entirely, the hem of her dress ragged and eroded, her face barely more than a hint at an expression, shards of ender pearl where her eyes ought to be. Twin cracks traced down her cheeks like tears. She may have been forgotten, but she still deserved better. 

He spread his arms wide, mimicking her pose. He swallowed, hesitant for what he was about to do. The Champions of the Gods were the only ones who were supposed to speak directly to the Gods themselves. The rest of the kingdom spoke only to priests and disciples who relayed the messages, and ‘Godless’ Outcasts like Jordan? Well, the last priest he’d spoken to had laughed him from the Temple because he’d dared insinuate that there was someone besides the two Gods. Still, he’d spent a long time trying to form the words he wanted to say to her. He was not here just for himself, but for all the Godless outcasts that could use the blessing of a Goddess.  

I don’t know if you can hear me Or if you’re even there I don’t know if you would listen to a humble prayer

Yes, I know I’m just an outcast I shouldn’t speak to you Still I see your face and wonder Were you once an outcast too?

God help the outcasts Hungry from birth Show them the mercy They don't find on Earth God help my people We look to you still God help the outcasts Or nobody will

He wasn’t sure when he’d started crying but he didn’t wipe his tears away, looking into her eyes. He’d never felt so humbled in his life nor felt anything as strongly as he felt now. All his life he’d wondered what it felt like to pray to the Gods and have them supposedly listen. The prayers he’d heard though, had often been selfish. Requests for self-betterment, wealth, fame, glory, love. It made him wonder what kind of Gods Mianite and Dianite must be if their followers prayed so selfishly. 

I ask for nothing I can get by But I know so many Less lucky than I

Please help my people The poor and down-trod I thought we all were children of Gods

God help the outcasts Children of Gods

He felt lighter when the words finally left him. Something in his heart had lifted, a weight he’d not realized he’d been carrying. A smile found its way to his lips as he wiped the moisture from his eyes. Jordan bowed his head to Lady Ianite for a moment, even if this had all been for nothing, at least he could return to the Capital with a new sense of purpose. He would spread the word of her existence, tell people of the third option, restore the belief in her. Maybe it would bring her back, maybe not. Either way, he felt she deserved it. 

Jordan got to his feet and with a grin said “Alright My Lady, let’s see what I can do about fixing this place up eh? I’m not the best at building but I’ll do what I can.”  

He worked through what he thought was the entire day, humming and whistling to himself and occasionally asking questions out loud to Ianite as if she could answer.

“What do you think? Leave all the flowers or just leave certain ones? I personally kind of like them all here, you’ve never probably seen the Temples in the Overworld but they’re kind of lifeless. I think the flowers add a nice touch. Maybe just a path through the center…?” 

He stopped to eat, sitting against the inside front wall of the Temple and just looking. It was better already. He’d gotten most of the chunks of the ceiling pulled aside, at least the ones he was strong enough to move, as well as the remnants of the columns and arches. He’d pulled up the dead flowers and plants and lit the torches that lined the walls. Yes, it was looking a lot better than when he’d found it. Still not perfect, he didn’t have the tools or supplies to fix it in its entirety, not yet at least. But he would. Now that he knew where the portal was, he could return to the Overworld and stock up then come back. 

He yawned widely. With no sun or moon he had no way to tell just how long he’d been here. If he was this tired, it must’ve been at least a whole day. It certainly wasn’t respectful of him to sleep in here but the alternative was sleeping out in the open surrounded by who knew how many enderman. “You don’t mind do you Milady? Just this once. I promise.” He yawned again, settling back against the wall and letting his eyes slip shut.

As his breathing evened out, every candle on the altar suddenly extinguished in a gust of air. The enderpearl shards in the eyes of the statue began to glow weakly and then with a single graceful step, a woman stepped from the stone. Her hair and dress floated around her as if she was underwater, her entire being mostly transparent. She leaned down to pick up the book that had been left to her, smiling faintly. He’d done so well to get here on his own. With nothing to go on but this book and his own feelings, he’d come to her. She could not think of a single person more deserving in this world of behind her Champion.

The Spirit of Ianite drifted through the Temple, the flowers waving delicately as she passed over them. She came to rest in front of him. His eyes were shut and entirely body relaxed, soft snores leaving him. 

“Thank you for all you’ve done. I know you will go on to do a great many more things in my name. I am honored to bless you as my Champion.” She spoke into his dreams. 

Ever so gently she wrapped her hand around his left forearm, shutting her eyes to channel her power. Upon his skin, a golden tattoo spiraled into existence. The pattern was varied, eyes and flowers and abstract symbols of balance all flowing together into a single piece of artwork. She felt the connection between them blossom to life like one of the chorus flowers that decorated the Temple. She could feel his mortality like a steady beat in her mind, the reassuring thump thump, thump thump of his heart. Ianite basked in the sensation for a moment, so new but still so welcome. He stirred beneath her touch, his subconscious reacting to their new connection. 

She pressed her lips to her fingertips and whispered “I will answer your prayers my Champion. I will visit the others in their dreams as I will visit you. They will know you as my Champion and it is through you that my name will return to the world of mortals.” then with the utmost care, touched her fingertips to his temple to complete the blessing. 

Ianite drifted back to her statue, looking back over her shoulder with a fond smile one last time before vanishing.

#mianite #Mianite fanfiction #Captain Sparklez #ianite #Goddess of Outcasts au #Song fic #mianite au #my writing #Nerf House #dianite #the realm of mianite #words words words

[andrewhq]

Found a burning rose (let it wither and decay)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone in the mianite universe is here and has powers, everyone but TOM, tom has been banned from cool powers by The Council, there's also an entire scene that killed me to write, Possessed!Jordan, Darkness, Near Death Experiences, Red Eyes TM

Ao3 link: Here.

Word count: 10.006

Summary:

To say that Tom had an ounce of intelligence in him was malarkey in itself.

Because if it were for Tom to be smart, he wouldn’t be, y’know, running from the fucking police.

--

In which Tom finds a family when he never asked for one.

#mianite #mianitian isles #mianite fanfiction #syndisparklez #sydlington #other ships (mianite) #mianitian isles fanfiction

[coolcattime]

Winter Coats [Mianite Oneshot]

Written for Day 6 (Outfit Swap/Cosy) of MCYT Valentine's Yuri Week created by @mcyt-yuri-week

Relationships: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefoxx

Characters: Captain Capsize

On a winter morning, Capsize searches Sonja’s house for her coat, wondering to herself what exactly the two of them are to each other.

AO3 Link

Capsize knitted her eyebrows together as she once again came up empty in the search for her coat. She could've sworn that she left it in plain sight on the back of a chair, but given that it wasn't there, and so far, it hadn't been anywhere she looked, it was beginning to seem like she remembered wrong. Maybe it was a sign that she should just stay in today, it wasn't like she particularly wanted to go outside in the miserable winter weather, she just unfortunately had things to do that day that would be a lot more annoying if she was freezing herself half-to-death while doing so.

"Fox?" She called out, not quite loud enough to wake her up, but enough to get her attention if she was already awake. She figured it was a fifty-fifty shot for her being asleep. As with pretty much everyone who was currently living in what was still vaguely dubbed the Realm of Mianite, no matter what anyone insisted, she had an unhealthy sleep schedule which left her sleeping at odd hours. Now Capsize also had her own most self-inflicted sleep issues, but that didn’t mean she was any less weary about waking up Sonja if she did happen to be asleep. Which was unfortunate as she had a feeling that, given her coat was not where she believed she had left it, it was very likely in Sonja's room. A fact that was also an issue because, given that she hadn't replied, she was almost definitely asleep.

She did her best to be quiet as she went upstairs. She knew the house well enough by now. She wasn't technically living with Sonja, the same way she wasn't technically living with Spark. She had a room in both their houses, because even though the pirate cove originally made a decade ago was still around and if she really wanted a place of her own, she could ask anyone, someone would be willing to build something for her, but she didn't really like the idea of living alone. Despite knowing objectively that she wouldn't be in danger, falling asleep alone, in the silence, well she tended to not fall asleep and instead ended up wandering into the night trying to relax. So, she stayed with Spark, who she'd grown used to hanging around from haunting the man, a fact which he thankfully didn't hold a grudge about. Or she stayed with Fox, like she had the previous night and was doing increasingly often. Occasionally they fell asleep together on the couch or one of their beds and that felt normal and good, and they still hadn't talked about it, but often she slept in her own room like she had today and that was fine as well. Needless to say, though, she knew her way around Sonja's place, enough to be able to avoid making noise as she made her way upstairs and opened the door to the other woman's room.

"Hey, Fox, are you..." She said in a hushed tone, before quieting completely as she saw she was asleep. She was also wearing her coat, her face half covered by the fabric. Capsize smiled before frowning. She smiled because, well, she looked cute. Sonja had a habit of borrowing or stealing clothes from people she liked. It wasn't rare for her to have her coat as if she owned the thing and Capsize never minded. She laughed and occasionally rolled her eyes at any joking comments that Tom made about it, but she couldn’t help but always quietly smile when she saw her wearing it. Right now, though, she was left biting her lip, unsure what to do. It was snowing, and she unfortunately needed to leave.

She didn't want to wake Sonja up, she really didn't. She sometimes worried that the woman didn't sleep so she couldn't wake her up when she was finally getting some rest. Even if her sleep schedule was better, she'd hesitate a little to wake her just for her coat as she'd been getting sick lately. Now Sonja always reassured that she was fine, just a winter cold, or hay-fever, or whatever other illness she thought sounded like it wasn’t serious but Capsize had seen the old purple tint her eyes got when she was sick, the looks some of the others gave her when she coughed for a little too long... and Capsize knew that meant something was being hidden from her. She hadn’t gotten the confidence to push the issue. After all, if something was seriously wrong, she was sure Fox would tell her. So, she tried to ignore the creeping anxiety in her chest and tried to make sure she let her rest wherever she could.

However, Sonja's mystery sickness wasn't what she needed to figure out right now, she needed to figure out what she was meant to wear instead of her coat. As she turned to exit the room, her eyes fell on the obvious solution. She hesitated, wondering if she really should, but it wasn’t as if she could think of any other options. Hanging from the bed knob was Sonja's hoodie. With a little hesitation, Capsize grabbed it.

“Sleep well, Fox,” She whispered, before exiting the room.

The jacket felt strange in her hands. She always forgot how thick it was, fur lining the inside as an extra layer. There was no reason that she couldn't wear it, Sonja wouldn't have any objections, but she felt weird about it. Yes, Sonja borrowed her clothes but... was this different? She sighed, a deep tired sigh. She didn't even understand why she was trying to make excuses. She slipped the hoodie on, pleasantly surprised that it didn't feel tight. She supposed it did always look baggy on Sonja, but she was a fair bit taller than the other woman, she had expected it to look short on her or the arms to be tight. But it felt nice.

She was actually doing it wasn't she? She walked to the door, looking out before opening it. The snow was falling thick. It certainly wasn’t a blizzard, or even a storm, but it was enough that no one would question if she didn't show up. It wasn't as if there was anything particularly important that she needed to do, but she thought of Sonja. If she was sick now, winter wasn't going to do her any favours. So, if she went out today, she could ask some of the others for any medicine that could help. The others clearly had a better idea of what was going on with the illness, so surely one of them would have something that would help. So, she exited the house, bristling at the cold but still pleasantly surprised at how warm the hoodie was. It was just for a few hours, she reassured herself, she'd probably be back before Fox even woke up and realised that she'd borrowed it. And hopefully she could drag the walk on for long enough that she'd be able to come up with answers for anyone who had questions as to why she was wearing the hoodie in the first place.

She didn’t need to lie, not really, but she and Fox hadn’t really talked about what they were. If she said that she was wearing the hoodie because Fox was asleep in her coat, they’d ask questions she didn’t have the answers to. And maybe that shouldn’t bother her, but she wanted to know the answers and didn’t feel much like having the others prod her about the situation all day. Still, despite the still anxiety she felt about figuring out an explanation that would give her a quiet enough day, she had to admit that the hoodie felt nice. She wouldn’t mind borrowing it again the next time Fox decided to borrow her coat.

#mianite #mianite fanfiction #cat's fanfiction #mcytyuriweekvalentines #captain capsize #foxxsize #sonja firefoxx/captain capsize #mianite post time

[correctmianitequotes]

A list of mianite fanfiction ideas

because i’m already slightly burnt out on TRISLE lol.

(btw feel free to use these as inspo! just be sure to tag me so that I can see it!! if you did I’d probably explode lol)

-Ghost hunter AU

-Royalty x Pirate AU (so I’m SUPER in love with this one and want to talk about it so if that sounds interesting pls message me because i might actually do a oneshot for it because i have heaps of ideas)

-Pirate AU (In which everyone is a pirate. i also really like this one)

-Hunger games au

-Harry potter au

-Movie night

-Team purges

-Magic tutorer (imagine tucker trying to teach someone blood magic or something)

-Body swap

-cursed alts: drowned tom, feral sonja, bloodthirsty tucker (or something), ruthless captain jordan, unholy-being wag 

-Jordan, the true champion of Dianite.

-Sonja, the true champion of Ianite

#not a quote #i want to write it #mianite #mianite fanfiction #mianite aus #trisle #pls add some if you have them #i'm collecting them #ianite #dianite #i want to draw it

[jungledubs-archive]

bittersweet twist of fate

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37459330

word count: 1.2k fandom(s): mianite characters: jordan, dianite, ianite, the darkness important tags: warden jordan, light angst, mushrooms

summary: just a few days, she says. jordan trusts her to come back. or, the darkness’ prison must be guarded, and jordan is appointed its warden.

notes: WARDEN JORDAN WARDEN JORDAN WARDEN JORDAN- [walks into an electric fence]

#jupiter writes #captainsparklez #mianite #fanfiction #mianitian isles

[smp-boundaries]

List of Boundaries: CaptainSparklez

Violence in fanworks: In one of his subreddit videos, Jordan reacts positively to a bloody drawing of him being accidentally stabbed by Tubbo, showing that at least in fanart, he is okay with violence and death.

Fanfiction: Jordan has done two videos where he read fanfiction, one of which was an x reader, and reacted positively both times. This shows that he is okay with fanfiction and the x reader did not appear to put him off, as he specifically chose it for a Valentine’s Day video.

Shipping: There is no distinct evidence for Jordan being for or against shipping as a whole. He seems comfortable with being shipped with Tom Cassell (Syndicate) as evidenced by various videos where they joke about kissing and being shipped together. On the other hand, in the third MC Ultimate, when AntVenom made a joking comment about SparkAnt (their ship name) being revived after they both respawned, Jordan replied with distaste, implying that he doesn’t like being shipped with AntVenom. He has also spoken on multiple occasions against being shipped with Lady Ianite (from the Mianite series), and shows discomfort when looking at romantic fanart of them.

AUs where Jordan is Tubbo’s and/or Crumb’s father: Jordan has reacted positively to fanart of Tubbo and Crumb as his children and is accepting of the AU. However, he seems to be unaware that it is an AU and not canon on the Dream SMP, therefore this cannot be used as evidence for his stance on AUs in general.

General PSA: Jordan does not like people prying into his personal life, which includes his IRL friends and relationship status. He doesn’t disclose this information and people should respect this about him.

Evidence: Jordan reacting to violent fanart, CaptainSparklez reads a CaptainSparklez fanfiction, Jordan reads an x reader, Jordan, Tom, and Mini Ladd joking about shipping, Jordan reacting negatively to the idea of SparkAnt (Jordan/Anteler), Jordan reacting negatively to Sparkanite, Jordan talking about Tubbo and Crumb being his children, Jordan talking about how it’s weird when people ask about his IRL relationships

clip transcripts below cut

reacting to violent fanart Jordan: (reading reddit post) uh, “blood. It was a mistake.” (opens post, revealing Among Us fanart) ah, no, dude.. (playing it up for the bit) ah no, back to back! I can’t believe I have to relive this moment again and again! I don’t think I - it’s - it’s - y’know, I don’t think I ever betrayed him, but I got betrayed in return. It was hard.

Jordan, Tom, and Mini Ladd joke about shipping Tom: (hugging Jordan and Mini Ladd) all in - all in, all in, all in - this feels good. hey, no kissing tonight, alright? Jordan: really? Tom: no kiss - (Mini Ladd kisses his cheek) okay. (looks at Jordan, points to cheek expectantly) Jordan: (kisses Tom’s cheek) Tom: (laughs) oh yeah!

reacting negatively to the idea of SparkAnt (Jordan/Anteler) Anteler: this is team Sparkant, being revived Jordan: no, not that - not that word.

reacting negatively to Sparkanite Jordan: alright people do this weird shipping thing with me, and Ianite, and I realize that it kinda stems from season two but let’s just - I feel like we need to keep it as a platonic relationship between a follower and their god, alright? Ianite is m’lady, my god, it doesn’t have to become like a romantic thing. Alright? alright. cool.

about Tubbo and Crumb being his children Jordan: (reading reddit post) “the Tubbo origin story is growing.” (opens post, revealing fanart) Is that Tubbo jumping out of the ____ to catch a bee? and then Crumb saying “there can be only one?” There actually - I’ve seen things on twitter though - Inga(?), who - who does lots of art and stuff and has done some of the MCC thumbnails, like, did a drawing where I was Tubbo’s dad in the Dream SMP server and I was like “is this a thing that’s actually going on?” I know nothing, I’m confused. But I guess I’m like - I’m Tubbo’s dad. on the server. I have no - I geniunely don’t know, but that’s what I’ve heard. And I’m like “oh, okay.” I guess - y’know. I did say I wasn’t having kids but there wasn’t anything about a kid that already has been had. So I guess it works. It doesn’t - yeah - doesn’t mess with my take. But also we have Crumb now. (laughs) “There can be only one.” But it’s been established that I’m his dad I guess, so - so, there has to be two. It’s already been said and done.

talking about it being weird when people ask about his IRL relationships Jordan: (reading reddit post) “Expose yourself, Jardoon. Did you break quarantine for a video?” (opens post, revealing screenshot of Youtube comments under his video) I can’t - I can’t, like, it’s so - it’s so weird.. to me, that every comment is just - who filmed the video - does any other channel get that? It’s bizzare - like I - I feel like other channels just have people film their videos and it’s - the entirety of the comments section isn’t, “who filmed the video,” it’s - it’s about the video content itself. I just - I mean, I don’t know for sure. Maybe that is a thing on other channels. But - also … and also, I do know other people who live in the general LA area. I’m not just completely solo without the ability to reach out to a single person. I know as much as I stay at home and am confined, I do know other people. Weird flex, I know. “Woah, this guy, look at him out here - knows other people? Who exist? Not just on the internet? Oh ho, mister fancy out here dude, okay. He’s got real life acquaintances and all that. Alright, way to flex on us all!” But I - oh my god dude, it’s so weird. And I made this comparison in my stream a couple days ago, that it’s like my mom when she’s asking about plans and what I’m doing, and I’ll be like, “oh, I’m going to such-and-such with friends,” …. she’ll be like “oh, what’s their name?” And I just think - I mean it’s - you’re not gonna meet them. Are you gonna look up their - like are you gonna look their name plus my name online to try to figure out who they are? I’m confused in that regard. It’s just a person who I know. And - and then, anyway, it’s just - you guys are my mom. (laughs) So that’s where we are with this.

#captainsparklez #jordan maron #smplive #smpearth #mcyt #mianite #vault hunters #boundaries list #smpb // violent themes in fanwork #smpb // fanfiction #smpb // shipping

[blognamemyass]

If you come across BlurryMango do not interact with them, block and move along. They had written disgusting ship fics of tubbo (they deleted all but act like nothing happened :/)

#CaptainSparklez #Tubbo #Mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fandom #mcyt fanart #Dream smp #Dsmp #Fanfiction #Ao3 #Mianite #Mcc #mc championship #We won't forget