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#yeah i put them in the nether again
vermwerm · 18 days
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GRAB HIM BY HIS STUPID HOTDOG SHAPED HEAD !!!!!
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mimiatmidnight · 5 months
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The new Barbie discourse on Twitter made me think of your post about it, but I went to find it on your blog and it's gone! Did you delete it?
Hehe that's funny. If you mean my review of the movie itself, the post is actually still up, but it's unreachable through tags cause the original gifmaker I used blocked me (fair!!). But you can still get to it through a direct link, which I'll put here for you.
I think I've seen some of the discourse you're talking about, and it's pretty funny how many people I've seen say that now that there's been time to separate from the hype, they can finally be honest with themselves and recognize their real opinions on the movie. Which is no shame, honestly! Hype-marketing is a hell of a drug. Just funny to look back at my review from back then and see how apparently there is no social pressure strong enough to suppress my innate hater nature.
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medicinemane · 10 months
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So, I decided I wanted to check out this modpack that had looked interesting, so I go and download the curseforge app (cause modpacks are kind of a pain to launch without a launcher... as in I'm not sure how you even do it)
Dear god, which a fucking monster. They've got fucking ads running all over the fucking place
Instadeleted it, you do no get to serve me ads under any circumstances, if you do fuck you, I'm not using you. You're not a website, you're an app, and if you're pounding me with ads regardless of what I'm doing, then I don't think you're secure (and even if you are fuck you)
So I've had to track down an alternative one called uh... GDLauncher. Can't say for sure, but so far seems much much better... seems like an opensource launcher that's just a launcher and that's it
Not that any of you play modpacks so not that this matters, but that curseforge shit was just so bad I had to complain
#also I'm having opinions at this point about having to sign in to a 3rd party launcher in order to run minecraft with it#it's striking me just how much minecraft is kind of... the ultimate drm game and we've just kind of put up with it cause it's good#you know how I got into minecraft?#piracy; pirated a copy of it right when the nether had first been released and decided it was worth being able to play with other people#do no like the fact that you can't do single player minecraft without signing in#in it's defense; you can do offline stuff so long as you're signed in#but uh... part of me wants to pirate shit just from a moral standpoint with it; literally only not doing it cause it's easier tojust sign i#rather than figuring out how to make it work#and also once again; I get it; the launcher is free and anyone can get it; so in order to gate access and make sure they're paid#they need a different gate#but uh... yeah... I guess this is my real point#I don't actually own minecraft#I own all my world files; I have direct access to them#but I don't own a copy of minecraft#and say what you want about pirated stuff; but you do own it#because all the files are contained on my computer; in digital terms that's ownership#true digital ownership is when it runs in a black box setting; no input; no output; just what's on the machine it's on#and when you can put in a hard drive; copy it; and plug that hardrive into something else to have a full copy of it#so minecraft is pissing me off a little cause I don't own it and that always annoys me with anything digital#big believer in digital ownership
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niqhtlord01 · 10 months
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Humans are weird: Minecraft
Alien: What is the point of this game? Human: It doesn’t have one; you can do whatever you want. Alien: Can I burn this world and leave nothing but ash? Human: Disturbingly specific but go ahead.
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Alien: How do I get wood? Human: Punch some trees. Alien: ……….. Alien: Punch some trees. Human: Yup. Alien: Are you mocking me? Human: What? Alien: Do you think I’m some sort of joke? Alien: An object of ridicule for your amusement!? Human: Okay, before you over react let me just show you. Alien: *Starts reaching for sword when they see the human literally start punching trees for wood* Alien: Oh. *Puts sword away* My apologies. -------------
Human: Why aren’t you playing? Alien: There is a monster in my home. Human: Is it an ender man? Alien: No. Human: Skeleton? Alien: No. Human: Creeper? Alien: Nope. Human: ………… Human: Zombie? Alien: Thwarp no. Human: *Takes controller and goes inside the house* What could it possibly be- *Sees creature* Human: That is a pig. Alien: It is the stuff of nightmares. Human: What the hell is scary about a pig? Alien: Look into its eyes. Alien: It has no soul; no remorse. ----------------
Alien: What are you making? Human: A doomsday device. Alien: Are you allowed to build that on a public server? Alien: Surely the admins would seek to stop you. Human: They can’t stop it if they can’t find it. Alien: What did you build? Human: I placed a claim block, fifty blocks down, and started a cow farm. Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad. Human: There are currently five hundred cows in a four block pen. Human: I have seen the amount of lag it generates drive men to madness. Alien: You are the worst of your species. ---------------
Alien: How goes it? Human: I’ve created a massive creeper farm. Alien: Dear gods why?!?! Human: I want to see what happens when one of them is hit by lightning. Alien: Why? Human: I heard that it turns them into a super creeper. Alien: Why would you want to make the sentient explosive even deadlier? Human: To leave as a surprise for that griefer who blew up my chicken farm last week. Alien: Ah. ----------------
Alien: What are you building today? Human: A nether portal Alien: Is that the purple doorway thing in front of you? Human: Yup. Alien: What does it do? Human: It’s a portal to this world’s version of hell. Alien: WHAT?! Alien: Is that not dangerous? Human: I mean, I want glow stone for my city; and the only place to get glow stone is in the nether. Alien: I weep for this world that has you as its caretaker.   ---------------
Alien: Why is all the sand from my beach gone? Human: Needed it. Alien: For what? Human: Copious amounts of TNT. Alien: Do I even want to know why? Human: Remember that village that I defended only for the golem to attack me? Alien: Yeah. Human: Good. Human: Because that memory of yours is all that is left of it. -----------
*stumbling down extensive mine network to find human friend deep underground.* Alien: You ever coming topside again? Alien: I just found these things called “Pandas” and they are adorable. Human: Not until I find a diamond. Alien: Oh gods, here we go again. Human: There’s only fucking copper down here! Human: What the hell can I even use for copper!?! Alien: I think you can make lightning rods out of them. Human: Oh yeah, sure, lightning rods. Human: I’m sure those will be useful SIXTY BLOCKS UNDERGROUND!!!! ------------
Human: What’s this? Alien: I’ve created an elaborate rail system that will allow me to transfer the citizens of one village to another village to make it a super village! Human: Isn’t that considered kidnapping and human trafficking? Alien: ……….. -------------
Alien: I have created these five iron golems to protect my home. Alien: Nothing shall destroy it while I am away! *Alien leaves into mines* *Returns after an hour of mining to find the entire home destroyed by creepers* Alien: What the flarp! Alien: Where are my go- *Turns to see all five golems distracted by some flowers* -------------
Alien: Something just occurred to me. Human: What’s that? Alien: If you can use the portal to this nether, why can’t things down there use it to escape? Human: Pfft. Human: That’s impossible. Alien: Is it? Human: *Dramatic pause before sprinting over to portal with alien behind him* *Both arrive to find legion of pigmen pouring out from the portal* Alien: Congratulations, you created the end times. Alien: I hope that glow stone was worth it. Human: *draws sword* It really was.
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daddyfordaeddy · 3 months
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Pairing: San x f! Reader
Word Count: 2269
Warnings: cursing, talks of insecurity about your nether regions, too much league of legends talk, none otherwise (smut warnings under cut)
Genre: smut, fluff, rated M for mature, established relationship au
Summary: You lost a bet to San, and now he gets to do whatever he wants
Smut warnings: fingering, oral (male & female receiving, fem focused), blindfold, dirty talk, spit play, light bondage (yn's tied to a chair), multiple orgasms
I’m only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 25! free use/spit play, and i chose the latter (once more)! i know almost nothing about spit play so i hope its good!
And if you want to know what other days I’m doing? You’ll just have to wait and see ;) This is the second to last one!
-
“Baby, can you come here for a minute?” Your boyfriend, San, calls for you and your head pops up from the book you were reading. It wasn’t very interesting anyway, something you had to read for class, so you have no qualms about putting it down and seeing what San needs. He’s currently in the computer room, waiting for you with a large and mischievous grin on his face.
“What’s that look for,” you laugh, approaching him and leaning down to peck his lips. “You look like a cat who swallowed a bird.” San pouts at the analogy but he can’t really fight it.
San sighs, his eyes crinkling with a smile and you can’t help but kiss him again at the adorable sight. “I just had an idea. Hear me out, okay?”
You laugh but plop into your chair next to him. “Shoot.”
“So.” San seems almost embarrassed but the smile on your face doesn’t waver and he squares his shoulders. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to bet with me. You know how you’ve been playing league pretty competitively lately?”
You nod. Your friends roped you into playing ranked games with them and you’ve somehow made your way as a platinum player. Every so often, San would join you and your friends in playing games and every time he does, you’re reminded of how he used to be a diamond level. “Yeah, why? You wanna play again?”
San chuckles. “Kind of. I don’t want to go the competitive route again, but I want to play one game with you.”
You narrow your eyes playfully. You may be good now, but you’re pretty sure San has been practising behind your back. “What do I get if I win?”
San’s smile grows wider. “You can do whatever you want with me in bed. But the same goes for me if I win. Deal?”
You hum. “Sure, but we get to pick each other’s champions.”
Without another word, San holds out his hand and you give it a firm shake. “I’ll have you play Neeko.”
You snort. “Well, you picked so nicely you can play Akali. I’d let you be Graves but I’ve never played against one.” San leans over to smack your leg but you dodge it with a giggle.
San sighs but his eyes are full of fondness. “Of course, so kind. Now, I hope you’re ready to get your ass beat.” His words are tender but he’s not playing around. He’s both competitive and horny and he’ll do whatever to win. And you won’t lie, you’re enjoying the idea of it too.
“I think you might be talking to yourself, Sannie,” you wink. “I hope you like getting pegged.”
-
The beginning of the match was fairly easy. The bots, of course, were evenly matched and you and San were fairly even. Although you tend to scale more late-game and San does best in mid-game, you were playing it safe.
“Ah, fuck!” You squawk when the opposing top just shows up, stunning you and San lands his first kill. “That was so mean,” you complain and San chuckles, leaning past his computer screen to pat your knee.
“Sorry, baby, that’s the game,” he hums before narrowing his eyes to reconcentrate. You find it hotter than you should. Unfortunately, after your death, San got a leg up and it’s hard to pick up the slack. And with how close the two of you were in skill, that small difference turned into a big difference. In no time whatsoever, your nexus is already on the brink of death and no matter how hard you try, you end up losing.
“Fuck,” you whine, pulling off your headphones and slinging them around your neck. “That was so close I could almost imagine my victory.”
San snickers, rolling his chair over to practically flop onto your body. “Sorry, baby, but it looks like I’m the winner here.”
You pout playfully, carding your fingers through his soft hair. “Fine, fine. What do you wanna do,” you concede, bending down to kiss his temple.
San hums but you know he’s not really thinking about it. You’ve known him long enough that you can tell that he had been planning this for a while. “I wanna eat you out.”
His words cause you to stiffen and turn your eyes away. You’ve always disliked the idea of you receiving oral. Not because you find it gross, of course. You like sucking dick, what difference is there? Your past boyfriends offered before, you just didn’t take them up on it and they didn’t press the issue. It just stems from your insecurities about your vagina, you suppose.
In your eyes, it’s too weird-looking. And you know San is just happy to do whatever but you can’t get over your mental block. But as San stares up at you, you sigh. You’re too prideful to back out. It’s not like it’s the worst thing San could’ve chosen. You just don’t like it. It’d be like if you won and wanted to peg him.
“You don’t have to if you don’t–” San tries to help you when it takes you a tad too long to respond but you shake your head.
“It’s okay. You can.”
San’s eyes brighten and his lips twitch but he sits up, a little more serious. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want to make you feel like you had to.” And your heart blooms with appreciation for his words. And it only makes you want to trust him more.
“I am.”
Your body is stiff in the chair you’re tied loosely to as you anticipate what's to come. A blindfold rests over your eyes and it's almost barely see-through so you can see the shadows moving around you but not what it is. You're not quite sure what you expect but the unsurety of it all makes your thighs clench.
“You're so tense,” San's voice floats towards you and you can almost feel his presence as he comes to stand in front of you. “Are you ready?”
At your nod, his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, nothing covering your lower half except the hem of your shirt. “Don't worry, I'll make you feel good, baby.”
Before you can even respond, his breath ghosts over your cunt and your breath stops in your throat. He giggles at how stiff you're holding yourself before he presses a soft kiss to the junction of your inner thigh. And another. And another.
“Hurry up already,” you groan. “Can't get this over with if you take five years–” Your words are cut off as soon as San places a kiss to your clit, pleasure shooting up your spine. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as your hips jerk at the sensation.
“Come on, don’t be shy. I want to hear all your pretty moans,” San hums, pressing another kiss to your clit as his tongue darts out to flick at it. “Taste so good baby, can’t believe I finally get to do this. Been dreaming about eating you for dessert and now I finally get to. So perfect for me.”
Your thighs are so tense, both from your nerves and from the feeling of his tongue pressing against your folds. “San–” you groan, clenching so hard you feel you may get a cramp in your hip, but San’s having none of that. His thumbs press into the junction connecting your thighs and torso, and you hiss at the pressure. “Fuck,” you groan.
You can hear the slick sounds of San lapping at your pussy, his nose pressing into your clit so perfectly you fear you may come already. His fingers are pressing slowly into you as he licks around them. “Fuck, you’re squeezing around me so well,” he groans. “So needy, look at you.”
Without warning, he spits on your pussy, and you gasp at the sensation of his saliva dripping down your heated skin. “San!” You don’t know how to react and your boyfriend chuckles at your astonishment. He bends down, licking at the mixture of your slick and his spit, kissing your clit again as he bites at the flesh.
A high-pitched whine escapes your throat as his teeth scrape against your folds and your hips kick up as you reach your high, coming with a groan. It feels like you’re about to pee, just so much more intense, and your core clenches as your head is thrown back in bliss. San’s tongue leaves your folds although his fingers are still pumping inside of you.
“Fuck, babe, I didn’t know you could squirt,” he says, voice filled with awe. “Fuck.” He spits again on your pussy, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up it and your breath catches at the feeling.
“Oh God,” you groan, eyes fluttering shut as your teeth work into your spit-covered lower lip. “Fuck, it’s so much, Sannie.”
San hums, mouth still pressed against your sopping cunt and if you think hard enough, you can just imagine how shiny his face must be after eating you out for what seems like hours. “You’re just so perfect, how could I stop?” he groans, the vibrations in your cunt making you twitch. “Colour?”
“Fuck– green,” you cry, trying to grind down on the chair, and San chuckles, puffing his warm breath onto your nether regions. “Sannie, please–”
Without another word, he spits onto his free hand, pressing his palm onto your clit and rubbing it in small circles. You can’t help but arch your back, whimpers and gasps leaving your lips like you’re getting paid for every sound you make. The light filtering through your blindfold is suddenly covered, and before you can even register what’s happening, San’s lips press against yours and you eagerly accept his kiss.
You can taste yourself in his mouth as you lick into it, mouth falling open as San spits in it. “Swallow,” he commands, and you rush to do so, eyes rolling back in your head as his fingers pump inside of you and the hand that was rubbing your clit moves up to pinch and knead your breast.
“Nng, San, I’m close again,” you warn, and San laughs, kissing down your neck and biting at your shoulder.
“Ah, again? So needy, begging for me,” he hums, mouth travelling down to suck at your other boob, his teeth scraping over your nipple. “You’re so pretty, (Y/N), taste so good, I could eat you up for hours.”
And, true to his word, he presses his tongue against your flushed skin, dragging it down to taste the mixture of sweat and come until it reaches your clit again. With a groan, he slurps at your sensitive bud, nipping at it.
“Shit–” you cry out, legs jerking. San laughs, drawing his fingers out of your cunt and away from your chest as he pins your legs down to have uninterrupted access. The hot muscle of his tongue slowly presses into you, flicking at your convulsing flesh so perfectly. With so many sensations overcoming your body, you feel like you might die as you reach your second orgasm of the night.
It washes over you wave after wave, and San’s tongue won’t stop pushing in and out of you at a slowing speed. “So perfect for me,” he repeats himself as he sighs against your quivering pussy. “You’re dripping so much for me. Eat you so well you can’t stop, hmm?”
“Fuck off,” you gasp, although there’s not much bite to your words. Not when San spreads your lower lips and presses his tongue impossibly further into your wet heat. “Ah, shit.”
As much as he likes to tease you, San doesn’t want to overwhelm you and he slows down, letting you come down from your high without too much overstimulation. Your body feels limp on the chair, your legs jello. You feel San’s breath on your temple right before he kisses it as he unties your wrists and pulls off your blindfold.
You blink blearily up at him, a smile forming at the sight of how wrecked he looks just as much as you. His hair is a mess and his crooked grin is shining with his spit and your slick. You grab his collar, unable to resist pulling him for another kiss as your hand wanders down to press against the obvious bulge in his slacks.
“Ah–” San sighs at the pressure, just letting you unzip his pants and pull out his thick cock, your thumb rubbing the head of it. “You don’t have–”
You interrupt him by leaning down and pressing your lips against the tip, letting your spit dribble down the length of it before enveloping half of it in your mouth. As you reach down to fondle his balls, you keep his dick resting in your mouth, spit pooling and sliding down the veins.
San looks ready to blow already, his eyes squeezed shut and his hand gripping your hair. It makes your heart and cunt throb at how beautiful he looks and you scrape your teeth gently against him. With an almost pained groan, he comes into your mouth and you swallow the bitter taste with a sigh and hum.
The hold he has on your hair loosens and his hand falls to cup your face to bring you back up to him for another long kiss. “Thanks for letting me do this,” San smiles against your lips and you tug him closer by his belt loops.
“Thanks for doing this,” you smile right back. “Next time, I’ll win.”
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genevawren38 · 3 months
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Fit & Bagi's conversation transcript about Philza and what ails him today (02/28/2024);
[/rp from 2 hours and 32 minutes in FitMC's VOD (2:32-2:42)]
FitMC : So have you heard any fofoca recently? Got any gossip, tea, drama? Anything?
Bagi : I haven't heard fofoca recently at least about me because I am waiting for y'know Tina to check her room, so we can have some new fofoca?
F : I see, I see, okay.
B : But um, do you know what's happening to Phil?
F : All I know, with Phil, ever since that stuff appeared on his shoulders he has been acting strange. His kids were both really worried about him. When I brought up a sensitive topic he seemed to get really upset with Tallulah, so I'm just—I don't think he is himself recently. Something is definitely bothering him or something's up.
Empanada : It's bad.
F : I don't know, what do you think? *Both read Em's sign.*
B : I agree with Empanada, it's really bad. Because Chayanne and Tallulah were really upset, like it didn't look like Phil. He seemed different, like maybe possessed?
F : Yeah, maybe, maybe.
B : With some disease, I don't know. And they ran away from him.
F : Which is definitely not normal.
B : That's really sad because Chayanne and Tallulah really really love Phil. And Phil looked like he was trying to get away from them. Going inside of dungeons alone and leaving them in the house. I don't know all weird, the weird thing about his shoulders, the purple thing on his shoulders, it looks like that crying obsidian you know?
F : Oh, wait a min—cause it's got like the purple in it?
B : Yeah, that glows a little bit?
F : Ramon do you have a crying obsidian on you? Put it on the ground, I just want to look at it real quick.
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B : And I think they had one of those inside the lake, the little lake they have next to their house.
F : Oh interesting. It's like the same colour of purple.
B : Yeah. Do you think its a type of corruption or something? Like what happened to Slime when he was being—well I don't know...transformed by codes?
F : Oh, yeah. Mhm, I remember that. That seems to happen on this island, doesn't it?
B : Yea. Like a contamination or something.
F : Yea it could be a disease, yeah definitely he wasn't himself. *Looks at the obsidian again* But yeah, it looks the colour purple is almost identical to what was on him.
E : Crying obsidian sucks.
Ramon : So crying obsidian is toxic?
B : I don't think so. But maybe a piece of crying obsidian appearing at his place could mean something?
F : Hmmm, maybe.
B : It's not normal to have crying obsidian inside of lakes.
F : It's an unusual place for it to spawn.
B : Yeah, exactly. So it was put in there but, why? Just for decoration or different purposes? I mean it could be just decoration.
F : It's—it's a weird decoration if that's true.
E : I asked him on our birthday and he said its nothin'. I asked him why there was one in his pond it was there on our birthday.
B : Wait, Empanada, did he answer you?
F : He said it's nothing...hmmmm.
E : He said not to worry about it an its nothing :(
F : It must have some significance then it has too.
B : He said not to worry about, maybe it really...I don't know the meaning of this because I never went to the nether. Everyone talks about the nether but I was never there.
F : Yeah but crying obsidian is also useful for making weapons cause it can make respawn anchors which can be used as explosives.
B : Oh you remind me of something. Okay, okay let me try to remember this...Phil had a diamond backpack that the 'Federation' gave to him?
F : Yeah, yeah must be nice.
B : No but it's really weird because the Federation isn't giving anyone anything because they want us to buy stuff.
E : Chay burned it.
B : That was really weird because the backpack came with a letter from the Federation, but not sure if its from the Federation. And a really weird backpack, a diamond backpack and the bunnies are trying to sell us everything so it doesn't even make sense for them to give Phil a diamond backpack. They would at least charge something, like, give me at least a thousand coins for the backpack, I don't know.
F : So you are saying that Phil didn't get it from the Federation?
B : I think maybe its something else, not the Federation.
F : I didn't even think of that.
B : He got a backpack from someone because think about it, the bunnies they don't even give us free food. Every time we need food they aren't even giving us food. Why would they give us diamond backpacks, that doesn't even make sense?
F : You are absolutely right. Like, I didn't even think of that.
B : If you stop to think about it, the shoulders and the back was exactly the place he was contaminated. So maybe it's related to the backpack?
F : You are right, it was all over his back, I didn't even think of that.
E : I listened to Phil's and Lulah's convo and he said he did it to protect them from HIM
[Fit mutes and tells chat : You ever talk to someone and just be like 'I'm fucking stupid?' That's how I feel right now.]
B : Oh yeah, I remember that Phil said that he was trying to protect the kids from 'him'. And he said a couple times the word him but no one in specific that we know, I think. It was always 'him'.
F : But he specifically said 'him', right?
B : Yeah, don't know who 'him' is but he was talking about 'him'.
R : Tio Phil was being a little harsh on Chay and Lulah.
E : He got really mad at Tallulah.
F : You might be onto something Bagi, maybe it is some sort of like he is being possessed or something.
B : Here Fit, check this *gestures to Em's sign*
E : Called her a stupid egg HE WOULD NEVER
F : *Reads aloud the sign* Oh you are absolutely right, Phil would never call any of his children stupid. Something is up, yup.
B : So if you see Phil and he's kinda weird, that's probably what's happening.
F : Well I am glad we had this chit chat so we are both on the same page. Okay we need to be really careful.
B : If he needs anything, oh yeah, and we need to be careful that's right. Because we don't know what he is up to.
F : Cause yeah if he's berating his own eggs, insulting his own eggs, it could turn south very quickly.
*Ramon nods*
F : I'm worried, Ramon.
E : Don't ask him questions, he will think they told us more.
F : Never a dull moment on this island.
B : We should keep the kids safe. Chay and Tallulah can stay here if they need, they already know that but if they need anything they can come to us.
F : That's a good idea yeah, as long as they have somewhere to go.
B : I mean for now I really don't know if I can help Phil, so I am just trying to keep the kids safe.
F : That's the most important.
B : The real Philza would appreciate it.
F : Yeah, keeping the kids safe that is the first priority. That's good stuff, isn't that right you two? *Addressing Em and Ramon who nod.*
B : I think Phil needs to deal with it.
F : It's always something on this island, Bagi, it's always something.
B : There's always something.
[Bonus transcript between Fit and Ramon 3:09-3:12 relating to Philza's affliction]
Fit : Ramon.
*Ramon nods after they both teleport home from BBH's place*
F : When we were talking with Bagi about Philza it made me realise something. I remember, a long time ago, this was a few months ago, remember when I was dealing with all the black concrete? Like all the dark matter that was on the island?
I specifically remember Philza mentioning a thing. If I recall correctly, he mentioned something called the 'Ender King'. And I am starting to wonder if maybe that's what's been messing with him. Cause think about it; the crying obsidian, the obsidian, that's what you find in the End Dimension, right?
*Ramon nods*
F : This things called the Ender King...he thought he was seeing things and we thought maybe he was just imagining them—but now we can see there is something on him. Something we can see with our own eyes. I just wonder if it's related.
Ramon : So now it's not only in his mind?
F : Exactly cause at first we thought maybe he was just imagining these things but it's clear this is actually some sort of outside force. And that's why I am a little bit more concerned now. That's why I am way more concerned.
R : That sounds dangerous. Not only for him but everyone.
F : Yeah, cause if his behaviour towards Tallulah and Chayanne yesterday, or the other day, is any indication then this could be a problem for a lot of us. So we really gotta keep our eye on him and support him anyway we can.
F : *sighs* But, man, when it rains it pours. Cause we have our own problems to deal with, Ramon. Especially tomorrow, I mean Friday. I can't ever remember what day it was, I am so frazzled. So much going on at all times on this island. When it rains it pours.
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justalilpearlie · 4 months
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AITA for torturing my soulmate after he ditched me?
I know how the title sounds, but bare with me for a second.
So for context, a couple months ago I (27F) was put in a hunger games sort of death game with a couple friends where we'd have a random amouth of lives assigned to us and the last one standing would win. We could gift eachother lives or trade with them. To make it short, I got 6 lives, putting me in dark green, but my ally (28M), let's call him S, got 2, and was on his yellow life. So we partnered up and I ended up gifting him TWO of my lives this season, and we became best friends.
The problem started about a month ago, after he won last season and we moved into the next one, yet another death game, this time with only 3 lives each, however, there was a twist. Basicly we were all soulbounded to another person there, and when one took damage their soulmate did aswell.
Everyone went on their own separate ways, looking for resources to start off and testing if anyone they met along the way was their soulmate or not. I did this aswell! And ended up sticking around my friend M (33M). We separate for a little bit, and when I find him again M asks me if I wanna go to the NETHER with him. Worst. Mistake. Of. My. Life.
But I thought "Yeah, a quick trip to the Nether cant hurt, as long as we're careful, our soulmates wont mind!", thats where I was WRONG. Once we got back we called over everyone else in the server who hadn't found their soulmates yet, and two people quickly arrived, S and C (42F), both of which were my friends and allies from the first season! M made us play a little game called "Lost and Bound", or would've if we hadn't figured out early who my soulmate was, when a goat attacked S.
Turns out S was my soulbound and C was M's! And they weren't very happy about our little adventure. They called us cheaters, told us we abandoned them, said they'd be eachothers soulmates, and practically broke up with us… in a soulbound way? They also claimed to HATE us for just a small Nether trip. I was heartbroken I'm ngl. My two best friends and past allies, abandoned me just like that, and claimed I was the cheater!
Not only that, but M was quick to ditch me aswell! He even said he blamed me for it. After that I was left alone with my precious dog Tilly (??F), I built a tower alone since I had nobody left with me. But guess what? Everyone started calling me a WITCH and S stared acting like I was some sort of "crazy ex girlfriend".
This is where I feel like I might've been wrong with how I acted. So my other friend, lets call him R(41M), gave me the idea of taking small amounts of damage to "torture" S. I know its bad, but I was very angry at him for what he'd done and said at the time. So I took R up on it and accepted his powdered snow gift, I'd chill on it often to "tickle" S and scare him a little bit. I'd do this almost every day, sometimes standing next to a cactus aswell once I got one.
But in the end, M, C, S and I teamed up together until we all turned red. From then on I kind of went all in at C and might've sent my pack of dogs after her… and of course killed M in the process. Then S told me to meet him where it all started, before blowing himself up with tnt to let me take the win.
It's been a bit since that happened and we're probably gonna start another of these games soon. I've forgiven him for what he did, and it seems like he did aswell, but… I cant help but feel a bit guilty for all that pain I put him through. AITA?
Edit: I also forgot to mention how C tried to burn my dog?? So I was also very pissed at her about it.
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shadowqnights · 1 month
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crazy how everything about mcd is so much more insane when you apply what i call the dog rule and that is when they are all dogs now in some way shape or form: an analysis.
when garroth is purebred, a hound made to serve, that does not know how to do anything but heel. he has purpose. he is sleek and well-groomed because he has to be, because he has always been tended to. a dog that falls into desperate spiral when that dynamic shifts - because who is he, without someone to follow, protect, love? a dog that becomes flea-bitten and hungry when he runs because he was never taught to take care of himself, to be his own master. he falls apart. he needs this, he knows, but what is he without someone to own him? a dog that cannot lead any kind of pack or family because it is afraid to understand the kind of animal it is if not in submission. if a parent, a teacher, he is promptly punished by his students as cruel reminder that he is not allowed to find joy in anything other than what his makers intended. a dog so desperate that it offers up its own leash to whoever will take it when things crumble - even if it means turning back to distasteful company. as long as it is held at all. time and time again, he tried to tend to the younger, weaker. he tried to feed them and lick their wounds - and time and time again, only to be mauled in turn. no more, he thinks. life was simpler when he was mindless, just four paws and a purpose. if that was what he was bred for, what business does he have pretending?
when laurance is a stray but made out of love. his coat shines thanks to the love of his family, his sister. he is sleek and well-groomed with them. the nether breaks him in, turns him a little wild. gives him cause to show teeth when threatened. when he bites, he mauls. there is something wicked in his animal eyes. he goes for the kill. when he bites, something in him wants it to hurt - whether his prey or himself, he can't tell. a part of the dog believes the suffering is natural because its maker declared it so. the pain wanes in and out like the cycle of the moon; life is unpredictable. he is braced to survive, sometimes with teeth already bared to expect the suffering. constantly on edge, pacing, waiting for the next disaster. a loyal, desperate pet that will follow to the ends of the earth - a desperation that borders on obsession. he will eat you alive, if only you would stay with him, inside of him, never leave him. never look at anyone else the way you would him. don't put him on a leash - let him choose who to lope after. his leash, in fact, is in tatters. he can't be collared. he merely follows, hungry at the heels of who fed him. his sense of duty is not of obligation but of love, a sacred need to stay at the side of those who treated him with kindness and them alone. and worse, he is burdened with the constant fear that if left untethered for too long, that obsession might turn carnal - that if wronged, he may not kill to eat and feel full, but kill merely to feel the blood on his teeth, just to feel the pain. feel something. anything. that he might enjoy the taste of his loved ones. maybe a leash is the right thing. maybe he needs to be caged. he can't bear either thought.
when they both bite the hand that fed them. when they bite each other. when they are dogs and kind of made for each other.
dante is a dog. aaron is a dog. aph is a dog. katelyn? oh you fucking guessed it. ivy. jeffory. zane. yeah. all of them are dogs. welcome to the dog rule fuckers its exactly how it sounds. are you sick of the word dog yet.
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angelkhi · 1 year
Text
kiss it better - j.m
pairing: dilf!joel miller x babysitter!reader
summary: turns out joel is trained in first aid, among other things.
warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI) oral (f), fingering, masturbation (m), age gap, creampie but not technically p in v, cumplay i guess, squirting? cum eating/swapping(???), praise, an inkling of overstimulation, hair pulling, needy joel, some dirty talk / bad language, nicknames: dove, pretty girl, sweet girl, idk just some down right dirty shit with some feeling, mentions of injury (a scraped knee and elbow), age gap, slight hurt comfort, grumpy bucky, kinda sweet ending. very sorry if i missed anything!
word count: 2.4 k
a little note: hi! this shit is nasty soz xx i wrote this for bucky but changed it to pre-outbreak joel cause yeah, also not proofread cause i don’t like reading my own shit, and sarah is like 5 in this, also if u know me no you don’t, okay love ya x likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏾
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"You, kitchen. I'll be down in 10."
You'd listened of course, planting yourself on the kitchen counter and awaiting his return, but those 7 simple words left you fidgeting for the entire 10 minutes he was gone.
Joel walks into the room without a word, puts the bright red first aid box on the counter next to you and pulls up a stool. You can't help but watch his fluid movements, admiring his grace and precision even in the smallest of movements. All of them are deliberate, calculated.
"This is gonna sting a bit." He rips open an alcohol wipe, sliding a hand behind your knee to keep you in place. "Deep breath for me."
"Joel, I can sort it myself- mother fucker!" You start to protest but he presses the wipe against your broken skin, the sting unexpected despite his prior warning.
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Joel smirks, wiping over your knee once more, his fingers digging into your flesh when you try to pull away from him. "Keep still."
"I told you I'd sort it." You mumble.
"Stop being so proud for 10 minutes. Let me help you."
"But..."
He sighs, finally looking up at you. You're not sure if it's the intensity of his stare, or the fact that he's hunched over you, touching you so gently, as though a scraped knee just might break you, but that sigh defeats you.
"Okay."
Silence falls over you again and you continue to watch him work, smiling when he fiddles with small bandage and adds a princess sticker for good measure.
"I'm sorry about earlier. Didn't mean for such a dramatic entrance but you know Sarah, she's..."
"Stubborn and bossy."
"I was going to say strong minded and competitive. Like her father." His brow quirks subtly, but you pretend not to notice it.
"So... stubborn and bossy." Joel smiles, still completely focused on bandaging your knee, "There you go, all patched up."
You nod, unsure of what to say all of a sudden. Joel fills the silence.
"I've missed you." Three simple words, that probably would've had little effect on you if they hadn't come from him.
"You saw me yesterday Joel."
"You know that's not what I mean dove." He glances up at you, just for a second, but a second is all he needs to know you understand. Of course you understand. You've spent the better part of a year trying not to miss him.
"Always so proud. It's okay to let people help you."
"My pride took quite the hit today thank you very much, your kid is way too good at tag." Joel chuckles, and your bruised pride heals a little, knowing that you had made him laugh. The way that his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches, the almost giggle. You want to commit it to memory. To keep them it your pocket safe and tight for when you needed it. Even as his soft eyes bore into your own, silently demanding an answer to his statement.
"Thank you, Doctor Miller. I'd better be going." It's cowardly, barely even a whisper, almost drowned out by the low hum of the fridge.
But you don't move though and nether does he. Joel smooths the bandage over your knee, his lingering thumb quickly replaced by his soft lips. Joel gazes up at you as he rose from his knees, his hands sliding up your legs with each fluid movement. His hands move on their own accord, across your thighs, skimming your hips and waist, moving up and up until he's cradling your jaw.
"I wanna keep you in just a little while longer for observations, doctors orders" You lean into his touch, hyper aware of how close the pair of you suddenly are.
"Hmm. Okay Doctor Miller, any other remedies... since you insist." You're breathless, the air in the room seeming none existent as you bend to his will.
"I can think of one."
He bunches your skirt up around your waist in one swift motion, urging you to lay back against the cool marble countertop. His lips are full and warm against your skin, lingering on the inside of your knee, his fingers holed in the side of your panties, dragging them ever so slowly down your thighs. Joel's every movement is slow and deliberate, as though he's trying to savour each and every part of the moment.
"Such a pretty cunt." A small burst of cool air against your exposed pussy pushes you closer to the edge of desperation. Joel's hair tickles your inner thighs, his soft shirt brushing the back of your knee
"Tell me you missed me." He's so close to where you need him, practically dangling himself on a string. "Tell me how much you missed me touching you like this."
Joel finally touches you, his thumb circling your hole, watching you clench around nothing desperately spread out on his kitchen counter willing to take anything he'll give you.
"Missed you, Joel. So much." He hums, pride seeping out of his pores, dark eyes flickering when you say his name.
"Fuckin my hand to the thought of you was torture dove. Nothin compares to this perfect little thing." His lips purse and a small burst of cool air brushes over your clit. You grow more and more desperate the closer he gets, you're practically offering yourself up on a silver platter and he chooses now to take his sweet time?
Your fingers thread through his shaggy locks, prompting him to do something or you'll do it yourself. Joel' laugh is quick and breathless, his eyes slipping shut when you lightly scratch at his scalp.
He leans forward, tongue dragging from your entrance to your throbbing clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans pulling back to speak.
"Just as sweet as I remember." He takes another moment, then his head is between your thighs.
You're not sure if it's been hours or minutes but Joel's head is still buried between your thighs, lapping at your clit and weeping hole like a starved man. Every time you think he'll give you some sort of a reprise, he just gives you more. Fucking an extra finger into you each time he comes up for breath, or simply just toying with your clit, enjoying the way you respond so diligently to his every touch.
Your hands find the edge of the counter out of sheer desperation, too scared you'll pull at his hair too harshly in this marathon of touching, that is at least until Joel's movements stop abruptly, his head lifting from between your.
"Joel, are you okay?" His large hands wrap around your wrists, prying your hands off of the marble and back into his soft hair.
"Don't stop-" he presses a sweet kiss to your thigh "-feels so fuckin' good."
He wastes no time getting back between your thighs, bringing you back to that ledge he'd left you on. The soft point of his nose brushes against your clit, your hands grasping his hair with fervour. Joel's moan is low and deep, vibrating from his lips right to your open cunt. The knowledge that you're giving him just a fraction of what he's giving you makes your chest swell, and you bet that if you had to energy to lift your head and look down on him, his trousers would be uncomfortably tight and his hips Joeling up at nothing.
He curls his fingers, hooking them perfectly against where you need him, his hand moving at an unnatural pace. You try to stay quiet so not to wake the little girl asleep upstairs, but you're being torn apart from the inside out and Joel's muffled sounds do nothing but spur you on. Once his lips pucker against your clit and his fingers rest on that perfect spot, you're finished. Torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, you simply just let it happen, let him coax your body through a perfect orgasm until you have no choice but to push the gluttonous man away.
"So fuckin' pretty. Look at ya, all mine." He's breathless, supporting your now upright frame between his muscular arm and chest. He presses his soft lips to yours, and it's a mess of nipping and sucking. His tongue brushes up against yours slowly and deeply, the taste of your own orgasm lingering on your lips.
"Just one more. Gimme one more yeah? So fucking good for me dove." You nod, something between a hoarse sigh and a whimper when he asks for verbal confirmation. He slides two long fingers back into you with ease, right back with that bruising pace, watching with dark eyes as you grind your clit on the ball of his palm.
"That's it, I've got you sweet girl. Give it to me." Joel's efficient when he works your body. He enjoys how you clench around his fingers when your orgasm builds, or how your swollen clit respond so well to his touch. He likes it when you push your fingers into his broad shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. He fucking loves it when you muffle the high pitched scream in his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin slightly as you release over his hand.
Dark grey spots linger on the cotton of his joggers from where you'd gushed all over him, but he doesn't care. Joel cradles your face, taking you in, his own little slice of heaven on earth. His.
Your nimble fingers tug the waistband of his joggers until they're just low enough to release him from their confines. His fingers brush over yours, moulding them against him, guiding you to palm his cock in a tight fist. Joel's concentrated gaze flickers between your glistening thighs, your pretty eyes, your half parted lips, your wet pussy spread out just for him. He's frantic, chasing pleasure from your white knuckled fists.
You slip your hand free, tracing over the stubble on his chin, fingers trailing around the back of his neck, until they're locked in his hair again. Your grip is rough when you tip his head back slightly, and he shudders against you, hips chasing his fist.
You relinquish in the small amount of power, the new feeling sending a rush down your spine. His lips rest against yours, his soft noises brushing against your skin.
"You gonna let me make a mess of this cunt, huh? Gonna let me come all on your pretty pussy."
"Joel please."
"Fuck. You're too good to me." He's whining for you. Fucking whining, and it's all because of you. Joel's hips stutter and thrust into his hand, the thick head of his cock bumping against your sensitive nub, extracting every last ounce of pleasure from your already spent body.
"Joel, come inside of me. Please Joel, you're always so good to me, let me be good for you." His hips slow as he takes in your words, your hands on him. He works himself over with his fist once more before he grips himself at his thick base pressing himself against your sensitive clit once again. He slides himself down, down, until the head of his dick is pressed against your waiting hole.
The familiar stretch of him pushing into you has you whimpering, still so sensitive. Joel's breath stutters and his hands grip your hips as he fucks his tip into you. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he gets himself off and you're muttering against his lips how good he feels, how pretty he looks, how much you love it when he takes what he needs. You scratch at his scalp, and grip his hair that little bit tighter and he's keening over, pressing his lips to yours. His eyes squeeze shut and he whines into your mouth as he pumps himself empty inside of you.
He works swiftly, removing himself from your warmth, sliding you to the edge of the counter and falling to his knees.
"Fuckin perfect." He mutters to himself, watching as his spend leaks out of you, fingers toying with the mess he made. He drags his soft wet tongue against you, once, twice, slipping into your used cunt until you're clawing him away beyond over-sensitive.
But then he's up, and in front of you and you're reading and waiting knowing what he's about to give you and you're willing to accept it. He kisses you, the mixture of your slick and his come on his tongue. You take it, the debauchery act pushing you so far past the point of desire. His fingers still move against you, still playing with your clenching cunt until you're seeing stars.
"Joel, too much."
"M'sorry dove." He says, pulling his fingers away from you and sucking them into his mouth.
He moves quickly, reaching for a cloth and some of his pyjama pants from the washing pile on the dining table. He's careful when he runs it over your thighs and in between your legs, holds you carefully when he helps you down from the counter and slips you into the sleep trousers that are far too big. He's soft and warm and careful and everything in between when he holds you against his chest.
"Joel..." He hums. "I don't want to miss you anymore."
You pull away to look up at him, terrified that you'd misread the situation, that your cloudy brain and lingering crush on the father next door has made you overstep the mark.
"Don't wanna miss you either dove." His lips brush yours.
He seems nervous, it's beyond sweet, but you'd never felt so light, so relieved. "Stay?"
"What about Sarah?"
"Please, she's been begging me to date you for months." Oh.
"And what do you want?" His soft thumbs stroke your lips whilst he holds your gaze, soft yet demanding.
"I wanna take you out to dinner. Want you next to me when I wake up in the mornings. I want you to sit on my face til your crying. Wanna give you everything you want, no matter how ridiculous, I just want you, if you'll let me." Oh. Big oh. You pull him close, resting a hand over his quick beating heart, worried it just might give out.
"You already have me."
He flashes a toothy grin, his blue eyes sparkling even in a dimly lit room. He kisses you slow and sweet, pouring every ounce of care an affection into your lips making it certain. You absolutely already have him too.
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prismartist · 7 months
Text
the fight between wilbur and phil just. echoes in my head. partly because it's the most intense they've ever been to each other in rp (from what i know) and partly because goddddddddddddddd god how did we not see that coming. wilbur's been away for months; at this point he might as well not know anything about the island. he expressed multiple times that he has no idea what's going on; he has no context. he sees people joking and laughing and hyping themselves up to go on missions he doesn't understand and calling him hatsune miku. nary a mention of the eggs, not even in cellbit's big rallying speech. it's no wonder he didn't think anything was wrong. so when he's hit over the head with the news that the eggs are missing...
the eggs are missing, and the apparent determination and effort of the parents is collected into a group of people running down a sewer and giggling about a goldfish's memory? these people must be insane. at the least, they must not care that much.
and here's phil, trotting along and laughing too, going along with people that wilbur isn't sure they should trust (because he doesn't know them, why should he?), like his son isn't missing, like his granddaughter isn't missing. tallulah, who's been taken away before wilbur can come back to her. tallulah, with whom he still needs to meet again, to see just how much she's grown. what are they doing?
i do find it funny that later, he then says everyone else is "panicking". sure guy. it's not like you lost your cool earlier because you're missing crucial information or anything. okay.
so here's wilbur, accusing everyone of not doing anything, accusing phil of slacking, stating that they're clearly not taking it seriously enough when they have and it's tiring; i mean, imagine keeping that up for a month. phil and the others have worked tirelessly scrounging up scraps of what you can barely call evidence. and wil is saying it's nothing, that they have done nothing, which in a sense they have, but at the same time is so wrong, because how have they done everything and nothing? how is there still nothing after a month?
it's just bleach in a wound, and phil––oh phil, who's been aching so bad since they've gone, who calls out to them futilely, who fell into a coma dreaming that he almost found them, who grit his teeth at each and every teasing "clue" he finds––well, he snaps.
he's frustrated. all the tears, all the hunting, all the running around like headless chickens––sure, they could be being a bit silly, they could be fools for following the federation's every whim, but at this point they've exhausted everything, all of their ideas, so any fucking hope they can get they'll grab it and watch it disappear like smoke through the slits of their fingers themselves, because it's nice to have something in the palm of your hand for even a second. and then there's wilbur even suggesting that cellbit might be a traitor, when he's one of the people phil trusts the most, enough to share the evidence with. so of course he accuses wilbur of letting tallulah rot. wilbur doesn't understand. of course he doesn't. he hasn't been on the island.
in a sense they're both right. the federation lead ultimately led to nothing but a new toy, and wilbur is painfully naive as to believe that tallulah is just hiding around the island, blissfully unaware that the main theory right now is that she's probably in another dimension. he doesn't even know about the nether.
it's so. augh. phil and wilbur really out here reminding us that yeah, they are roleplay powerhouses and they will devastate all of us when put together in high-stress situations. god. gotta love them for that
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lowkeyrobin · 3 months
Note
can you pretty please try doing reader who is a certified yapper 🗣‼️ but also has moments where they just get tired of talking and are dead silent for like 20 minutes straight and then go straight back to yapping 😼 sorry if its super specific lmao but i do this all the time
also could i maybe be 🦋 anon??
hello!! welcome to the family 🦋 anon! and yes ofc :) sorry if I misunderstood, kinda autopiloted to mcyt so sorry if you meant this for another fandom LMAO ; struggled to think of new thoughts so sorry for small cast of people 💀🙏
MCYT ; certified yapper
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, quackity, & nihachu
warnings ; language
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
he does the same thing
will rant about anything and everything especially if you're talking about the same thing
but if it's out of the blue like "omg look at this tik tok drama blah blah blah" he just blinks before he's like "oh shit. here we go again"
then you just stop talking after a moment and gets weirdly uneasy with the silence
"can you talk more?"
"about what??"
he just shrugs "I like when you yap away, you're nice background noise"
you dramatically scoff "Okay, asshole"
you're silent for a while and just start revving up the engine again "Holy shit here's another thing, this girl-"
TUBBO
will proudly listen to you yap on about some stupid shit or about lore to a show/movie you're fixated on
he'll ask you questions and stuff
he's used to it dw
you'll go silent for a little while like you're processing new data and he'll just be like "Okay, I think we should do xyz and..."
then you'll like come back to life and start talking again
he secretly sets a timer each time you go quiet until you start ranting again and he'll put it on his stream 💀
"damn, 19 minutes this time"
"Huh? 19 minutes for what?"
RANBOO
nods along and actually listens
dude doesn't care, they're listening to you no matter what
whether it be about serious topics or some silly internet stuff you like, he'll always listen and make sure to note it down that way he can start a conversation with you about something you like or are passionate about
"yknow what I like about the nether?"
"what?" he smiles
"how pretty and diverse it is. yeah you can say the overworld is just as if not more diverse with biomes and stuff, but they could've just left it boring red netherrack everywhere you go and stuff, it adds so much more life-"
they love how passionate about things you can be
if for a very extended period of time, they'll check up on you like "you good?"
you just nod like "I'm tired of talking L"
BADLINU
nods along with you
he doesn't see it as yapping, he sees it as a genuine conversation no matter what you're talking about
adds some stuff in when you like pause to breathe
once you go quiet he can just sit in silence with you forever
this is basically his opportunity to talk to you about like tik tok drama lmao
if you don't know about it at all, all ears open and you're focused
your dynamic 🔛🔝
QUACKITY
you're both yappers let's be honest
constantly talking over each other and play fighting for the most attention out of other people 💀💀
"SHUT THE HELL UP I'M TALKING"
"I WAS TALKING FIRST, LET ME TELL THEM ABOUT MY NEW FAVORITE MOVIE"
then you just get tired of talking and wanna strip mine or something LMFAO
he always checks to make sure he didn't upset you after every time you go silent
it's just by reflex lmao
he does listen to you when you yap about a fixation don't worry
gift inspo goes crazy
NIHACHU
loves when you talk or yap about something you like or some drama you found
she's like your safe person to talk about everything to, she loves having that kind of title for you
"and then xyz"
"Oh my God, really??"
she'll whole ass put everything down just to listen to you talk about dumb shit I swear
she encourages it, like just speak your mind dude
also uses what you talk about as gift inspiration for anything, birthday, valentines day, anytime she wants to get you stuff
half the time you forget what you just said and she recaps you
"Oh, thank you! anyways-"
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xiaoscarasimp · 10 months
Text
Cat Boi: H Patch
Minors DNI/SMUT
CW: AFAB! Reader, Cat boi, Scaramouche is his own warning, you call Scara good boy like twice and basically aphrodisiacs
What do we get when someone loves Scara cat boi and has hormones that are out of control because reasons? Good old fashion 2.6k words of smutterino. First time writing smut *hides*
This takes place prob between cat boi 1 and 3 ish (not canon canon but H Patch ^^)
One day, you decided to play a bit of a joke on your cat boy, Scaramouche, by bringing home some catnip. You had read that it has some calming properties for actual cats, so why not try it on your rowdy cat boy? At the pet store, you decided on getting both the dried and the live grass to see which would work better, although you had higher bets on the live. 
You arrive at your house with the cat nip and Scaramouche greets you at the door. Sometimes you swear he's more of a dog boy than cat boy. The cat boy sniffs the bag, and has a puzzled look on his face.
"What is that weird smell?" His nose wrinkles in disgust. "Did you get me some shitty medicine again?" 
"No, no," you laugh. "This is catnip. Apparently, it calms cats down and makes them enter a state similar to when a person gets high, so I was wondering if it'd work on you." 
"Sooo, you're attempting to drug me?" His tail flicked angrily, his eyes had a look of betrayal in them. How dare his precious human attempt to drug him?! 
You shake your head. "I got these in case you wanted to try them. I'm not gonna slip this stuff into the food you know." You ruffle his hair in between the cat ears. 
As you put down the bags from your shopping trip, Scaramouche peaks into the bag with the living catnip in it, and takes another whiff of it, nose still wrinkled in semi disgust, but even though it smells weird, the cat boy almost can't stop sniffing it. It feels like his brain is going to mush; he couldn't stop purring and giggling like a school girl.
"Scara, are you ok in there?" You call from the kitchen as you were prepping tonight's dinner.  "I hear you laughing, and one thing I know about you is when you're laughing, it's never a good sign." 
Scaramouche slinks into the kitchen, face red with blush and eyes glazed over. "Hey, y/n, has anyone ever told you that you hot when you cook?" He slurs out. "Or that you smell really nice? Almost like Citrus. Lemon of course." 
"Well, yeah. I cook fish a lot so I gotta get that smell out somehow. Are you ok?" You start pan frying the steak in seasoned butter and start boiling the water for the rice. Tonight's menu was steak with rice and green beans: simple, easy and effective. 
The cat boy starts giggling again, stumbling through the kitchen to try and hug you while you're cooking. Once he did hug you, you notice that he is radiating body heat like someone who has a fever. 
"Scara, look at me. Are you sure you're ok?" He stares at you, eyes dilated, blush on his face, and tail and ears twitching. His tail starts to make its way to your wrist but you pull away before the cat boy can wrap his tail around your wrist. You make the mistake of looking down and notice a slight bulge in his pants, causing both of you to blush even harder. "So, uh, this is awkward. Did the catnip make you, uh, like…this?" You stammer out, not sure of what to make of the situation. 
"I'm not sure, but all I know right now is that down there hurts and it's tight." Scaramouche shifts his legs, almost trying to help soothe his acting nether regions. 
What would even be the morality of helping your cat boy with the sudden arousal? You got yourself (and him) into this mess, so what's the safest, most ethical way out? The cat boy was easy enough on the eyes, soft dark purple hair which was currently sticking to his forehead, purple eyes that reflected galaxies, and the twitching cat ears which were pressed against his head in embarrassment. 
"Scaramouche Balladeer the Sixth: I want you to be honest with me. Can you willingly consent to possible sexual acts? Will you be ok with me helping you with your problem?" You have a serious look on your face, trying to make sure that you were not taking advantage of him. Using his full name managed to snap him out of his daze for a few moments.
"I don't care what you do, just help me with my damn problem." He snaps back. "You can fuck my brains out for all I care. Just be careful of the tail, it's sensitive."
You chuckle. "Let's eat and clean up first. No, I'm not the meal." You hear a tongue click at that notion.
As you guys eat, you start questioning the cat boy about what he knows, although you can tell his mind is elsewhere, legs rubbing together for any type of relief. Eventually, he says that he wants to try and let his instincts and you guide him through the relief process.
After dinner, while you were cleaning up, you noticed Scaramouche had gone back over to the catnip plant, deeply inhaling its scent; apparently the smell was super addictive. The blush on his face somehow increased further and his tail swished back and forth impatiently. Needless to say, Scaramouche was eager for relief. 
"Scara," you call out. "I'm heading upstairs." As if he was under a spell, he followed you in a daze, sniffing the air. His ears and tail flicked nervously in anticipation. 
Once you two got to the bed room, Scaramouche tackled you onto the bed, rubbing his head on your chest, inhaling your scent. Somehow, it was more addictive than the scent of catnip. The cat boy, lost in his instincts, started rutting against your leg, eager for relief for the warmth in his lower abdomen. 
"Scara, let's get these clothes off, shall we?" You chuckle and Scaramouche looks up at you, eyes demanding why did you stop his release. You start by slipping his black shirt over his head and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Scaramouche attempts to stick his tongue out at you, but you grab it with your own Tongue, battling for dominance in his mouth. As fate would have it though, you nicked your tongue against his sharp teeth and you pulled back from your assault, both of you panting from the battle. 
“Ha, for someone who has ‘experience’ you sure did fuck up,” the cat boy teased. 
“Hey, it’s not my fault you have sharp teeth,” you scowled. “Now, if you want to try that again be my– mmmfph.” You were cut off by a passionate kiss, this time though, the battle was in your mouth. Tongues swirling around in your mouth had you moaning and heat pooling at your core. Scaramouche was no better, moaning your name in your mouth. 
You cup his face with one hand and roll his nipple between your fingers with the other, causing him to moan even louder. Scaramouche started grinding against your leg again, this time faster, chasing his own pleasure. His tail wrapped itself around the arm that was cupping his face while his hands went to your waist. When you felt like he was getting close to his relief, you push him off. 
“Hey! I was almost there,” The cat boy hisses. 
“I know, but first we have got to get these shorts off you. Maybe you can help me undress as well?” You wink at him. At the mention of undressing you, he immediately starts by lifting your shirt, revealing a black, lacey, pushup bra that makes your chest look even more divine than it usually does. Scaramouche blushes at seeing you nearly topless like this. Sure, he has seen you topless after getting out of the shower or getting dressed in the morning, but this was the first time he’s seen you topless as a woman, and not purely as his master.
“You like what you see?” Your sultry voice made him blush and his dilate even further. The indigo haired cat boy quickly looked away, nose almost bleeding from sheer stimulation. “I’m going to take your shorts off now,” you tell him, and kiss his forehead and Scaramouche nods in agreement, eager to strip everything off to be even closer to you.
As you slide his shorts and underwear over his knees, you can’t help but to notice how hard he actually was, tip flaming red and dripping precum. Even his pants slipping past his cock was enough to make him whimper and almost cum on the spot.  
"Oh, look at you," you croon as you massage the tip between your fingers. You push him back onto the bed, trapping him underneath you. "My fierce, sassy cat boy reduced down to a mewling kit. Tell me: how badly do you want me?" 
It was at this point Scaramouche decided to take his chance and wrap his tail around your hips and pull down your bra to suck on your nipple.
 "Ah-ah-ah," you tut, smacking his hands away from your chest. "Only good cat boys get to play with my breast. Have you been a good boy?" His ear flatten against his head, equal parts shame at becoming noticeably aroused when you called him a good boy and equal parts excitement. 
"I don't care about that shit. Just help me relieve this throbbing pain." He attempts to command you, but it just comes out as a whimper. 
You cock an eyebrow at him and he immediately knew he messed up. Scaramouche, the proud arrogant cat boy with a sword for a tongue, started one thing you never expected him to do: beg 
"I'm sorry y/n. I'll be a good boy. Please relieve this pain. Please-please-please. I need you," He starts babbling, words and prayers spilling over his lips. Poor cat boy was already pussy drunk and he hadn't so much as touched it directly. 
You strip your pants and underwear off and that almost sends Scaramouche over the edge. Unhooking your bra, you allow him to squeeze your breasts gently, causing you to moan a bit louder. As you straddle him again, you lean down and gently nibble his sensitive, furry ears, sending jolts up the cat boy's spine. The wet sounds in his ears were just so exquisite, gasping and moaning even louder. 
"Scaramouche Balladeer the Sixth," you whisper in his ear. "Are you sure you want to have sex with me? We can stop now if you want." The catnip had to be wearing off soon, but Scaramouche was still very much in the mood. He nods, almost unable to get the words out. "Scara, I'm going to need you to use your words, otherwise I will not continue."
"Y-yes master," Scaramouche whines. "Pl-please do something about my leaking cock." 
You lift yourself up slightly and align his weeping cock with your needy hole and lower yourself down gently. Upon entering your folds, the cat boy almost cums on the spot; the stimulation was too much. Scaramouche moans and bites your neck to try and quiet himself, but you lift his face up and crash your lips into his and suck on his bottom lip.
"I'm going to move now," you say into his mouth, to which Scaramouche nods vigorously. As you start grinding on his dick, you feel it throb inside of you, pulsating with anticipation. Your walls tighten and loosen around Scaramouche's cock as you kiss him, throwing both of you into a passionate fury. 
"I-I'm close," you moan. "S-scara it's ok to c-cum inside." You can barely speak through the intense pleasure. As you babble on, you can feel his dick twitch before finally exploding inside you. His tail wraps even tighter around you when the release happens. It wasn't long after you crest the peak of your own orgasm, leaving you both sweaty and panting. Scaramouche's ears were twitching happily, face relaxed like you've never seen it before, and generally at peace with himself. 
"Was that fun?" You ask, still on top of him, dick still inside of you. He sluggishly nods, smiling like he's in a dream. You ruffle his ears and hair and unwrap his tail from around you. As you get off him, the cat boy tries to give you a hug to pull you back down, but Scaramouche's energy was spent, so his hug had no pull. 
You quickly locate the tissues and hand them off to Scaramouche and tell him if he needs help cleaning up to let you know if he wants to take the lazy route, otherwise a shower is the best option.  The cat boy rushes to the shower, cum dripping down his leg. As you clean yourself up, you debate joining him in the shower to wash up before bed. Scaramouche pokes his head out of the bathroom, demanding that you help clean him in the shower.
For some reason, you two can never agree on water temperature. You prefer it to be scolding hot whereas he prefers it to be warm but not hot, which feels cold to your skin. Eventually, you settle on a decent shower temperature, and you start washing his hair.
"Mind the ears," He grumps. Scaramouche is back to his old uptight self again. "Also, don't be so rough; I'm delicate you know."
"Yes, yes, my big strong cat boy and his delicate ears," you muse. "OK, body wash time." You start putting the soap on the wash cloth and as you start scrubbing him down, he yowls.
"Gentle, I said. Gentle!! What part of that don't you understand?!" He was so cute when he scowled, but you weren't going to let him know that. 
"Exfoliation Scara. It's good for the skin. Also, did not think I was that rough." The cat boy glared at you in response. "Good news is, you're clean now." You rinse off the suds and Scaramouche shook his head, almost like a dog, to get the water out of his hair. "H-hey now!" 
The cat boy stuck his tongue out at you and nimbly hopped out of the shower. "Now you can have your hot as hell water to fuck up your skin with." 
Even though Scaramouche was clean, he still hung out in the bathroom, watching you shower with an intense gaze. His ears twitched excitedly. The way the soap slid off your breasts, the way your hands went through your hair when you washed it was all so alluring. He considered himself lucky to have had the experience he did tonight, even if it was fueled by catnip.
After you were done scrubbing yourself, you put on your pajamas. Scaramouche was laying in the bed and had already put on his signature black sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt with a cat on it, which you got purely for the irony. 
You head over to the bed and get in under the covers and could just feel Scaramouche's body heat radiating through the blankets. 
"So, amuse me,"you cock your head in wonder. "Does catnip affect every cat boy like an aphrodisiac or only some? Also, I didn't take advantage of you did I?"
"So, it does have aphrodisiac-like properties on certain cat boys or girls but I was still very much in control. I was not expecting to be hit that hard by it, but I've been wanting to experience you for a long, long time. So, it's  win-win. You got to play a small 'joke' on me and I got to experience your body. Now tell me," He smirks.  "When can we do stuff like that again? And next time: I want to be in control." Scaramouche kisses you before turning away. 
"Ok fine, but remember: I'm the master in all other areas in life." You whisper in his ear, causing it to flick from the simple stimulation of your breath. You pull him in close to cuddle him like a stuffed animal and as much as he tries to say he hates being little spoon-he really does enjoy it.  
The two you drift off to sleep, dreams of each other's bodies racing through your mind, wanting to experience the whole act again.
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anonymous-dentist · 7 months
Note
Can you give me a recap. What's happening with Cellbit???
God what isn’t happening with Cellbit
Basically, here’s a list of what the Feds have done to him, and his current response:
15 years ago, the Federation kidnaps him after he sees something he shouldn’t have. It seems like he was being held for observation. He escaped, but I think he was caught again? Idk I don’t speak Portuguese
He got shipped SOMEHOW to the Hunger Games with no memories of his childhood with Bagi and his parents
Time passes. He’s put in prison because people were “afraid of [his] potential”, aka probably because he was entirely too chill with killing the shit out of people
Time passes again, he crashes onto the island, and Problems Start
My guy gets chainsaw tortured! Aka he gets chased down a hallway and murdered by a laughing Cucurucho and then revived and chased down a hallway and shown his corpse by a laughing Cucurucho. After an interrogation, he’s elevatored upstairs to… Richarlyson’s old bedroom area, which was basically the Feds saying “Hey we’ll do this to your son too lol”
Felps aka Cellbit’s best friend get kidnapped
Bobby dies and so does most of Roier’s soul
Because of that, Cellbit joins the Feds to investigate secretly and shit. He then gets kidnapped and he ends up losing like three days’ worth of memories
He tells people about the chainsaw torture and they laugh in his face and/or ignore him. For MONTHS
The Feds try and murder him during the elections, but that’s fine, he ends up murdering himself
The Feds trick him into giving up a HUGE amount of information in a secret office under his house (this is a surprise tool that will help us later)
They keep making him go on jobs for them, and he’s pretty sure that they’re the guys threatening to kill his son if he tells anybody about the missions (that was probably the Resistance tbh, but he doesn’t even know they exist)
ElQuackity happens. Just. Everything about him tbh, but especially him threatening both Richas and Roier to the point of Roier Cubito legit being afraid for the literal first time ever that Cellbit has known him
Then the eggs get kidnapped, and the Feds aren’t doing shit to help
Then Forever and Pac are drugged
Then Forever is sent on a suicide mission into the Nether
And then the eggs aren’t back
And then there’s a Federation prison on the server
And then the eggs aren’t back and neither is Forever
And now Roier is even more of a broken man than he already was because the Federation isn’t doing shit to help find the eggs
And then Cellbit finds out that he’s missing 12 or so years of his life because of the Federation. That he had a HOME, and then. He didn’t. Because of them.
Tbh I think that last bit was the real final straw, but then:
The Mini-Me event was because Cellbit got intel from a rebel worker (kinda) who promised Cellbit information in exchange for the “goods” at the presentation
Cellbit didn’t feel Anything even after he won the day by all means necessary after stealing the Mini-Mes
So he went home and had a nervous breakdown and now he’s killing workers because like. Okay.
So why is Cellbit killing all these workers? Well, he isn’t thinking super clearly now, but he’s basically trying to get his family off the island safely. That’s his priority. They can’t leave until the Feds are gone, so he’ll make the Feds gone.
He’s tired of the complacency everyone else is showing. After all the shit they’ve been put through on the island, why isn’t anybody actually fighting back? Don’t they want to leave?
So. Yeah! :D
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stellisketches · 3 months
Note
why? please explain the soldier, port, king in excruciating detail PLEASE
EDIT: ITS FINALLY DONE i'm so sorry this took me like six months I got really busy with school work and I wanted to make sure I wasn't half-assing this anyway thank you for asking please enjoy
For reference I will be quoting the “Poet Soldier King” test on uQuiz as I feel they summarize each role most succinctly.
"You wonder, sometimes, if anger is the only thing you can feel. Remember: love is passion too. You made your own rules and will follow them to death. You try and forget that there is only one rule, and that it is "FIGHT". You are tired of fighting. You try to forget that, too, and keep going. You dream of quiet. Your love is where you heal." -Soldier
It's a subtle element but Vylad’s entire character/existence is about enduring conflict. It's an easy thing to forget due to his calm demeanor, but Vylad has been fighting since the moment he was born (hell, even before). Fighting the ill-contrived gossip of being a bastard son, fighting to prove himself a genuine Ro’Meave, and fighting against Garte and Zane’s abuse over his childhood. It’s a subtler form of conflict, but it’s very interesting to imagine how he was able to put up with all of it (I’ve planned so many prequel fics about the Ro’Meaves you guys). Then there’s the whole shadowknight topic that really is indicative of itself. Vylad's whole arc was based upon leaving behind the violence of his past as a literal soldier within the Shadow Lord's army. Again it’s really easy to forget but this is someone who was revived to burn the world to the ground and slaughter any and every man, woman, and child that got in the way of it. He told Aphmau himself in season 2: “One good deed does not fix a thousand wrongs done. I'm not a good person, let's just leave it at that. Please.” We may not have seen it on screen, but who knows how long Vylad was traveling with Sasha and Gene. I doubt Phoenix Drop was the first village they targeted, and I doubt Gene or Sasha or even Zenix were ever like “oh yeah you can wait outside while we commit atrocities on this Lord and his family and burn the whole village to the ground.” Vylad has a very practical mindset (another trait indicative of a good soldier), and it wouldn’t surprise me if he was purposefully good at his job so it would land him more opportunities to get out of the nether now and again. He enacted violence well enough that he was trusted to be sent outside the nether to go fuck up the overworld. Vylad is a man thoroughly haunted by war and the violence he’s committed against others in a way his brothers just… aren't. Sure, Garroth knows fighting and violence as a means of protection and ensuring the safety of others, but he doesn’t know war. He’s never had someone he cared about die in his arms. He’s never seen a whole village burn to the ground and see innocent people slaughtered left and right. He’s never seen a child screaming at their dead mother to get up. He may use violence, but he was never a violent person. Zane, on the other hand, most definitely was, however, but he hardly ever enacted any of the violence himself. 90% of the time it was jurors or guards he’d given orders to. And while he was more than happy to get his hands dirty every once in a while, he never felt genuine consequence from it. 
Continuing on Vylad’s inner psyche, we see after he still keeps a very practical, soldier-like mindset out of the nether in company with Aph and Co: He gets annoyed at Aphmau when she puts off telling everyone about the Tuu’la invasion. He surveys Laurance from a distance and does not interfere even in danger because he’s aware of the long term effect of distrust it would cause him. Upon the chaos in Narhaka, he immediately goes to burn books that have important locations the enemy could use against them. This is actually one of my favorite scenes because of how subtly status-quo breaking it is. Tell me right now of any scene involving book burnings done by a guy the audience is supposed to root for. Vylad’s view of the world makes him incredibly pragmatic and able to calculate the win-loss ratio of his actions and let that decide whether or not he will go through with it.
Vylad may not have the typical surface-level look of the characters often put into the category, but if you really dive into his past, his mindset, and the way he views the world, he easily fits into the role of soldier; with the final line “Your love is where you heal” setting him on the path of redemption we see throughout the whole series.
"Loneliness. Strength. Joy. You are powerful, but struggle believing it. You think you're not enough. Here's the truth : you are. You sing songs and hope they carry faith, because you have run out of it, and yet you still throw your heart out to the world and hope it makes it through. You convince yourself that pain is art because at least then, you will always have something to create. You are tired of stumbling through life. You dream of a ground you can stand on. One day, you will dance. Your love is where you feel - without fear." -Poet
Now I admit for Zane it does require a more particular perspective to place him as poet, but I’ll start simple and slowly transition to red string and corkboard. Firstly, from the original song lyrics, “He will slay you with his tongue” applies in at least two different ways. The first being obvious: Zane is incredibly charismatic- you don’t just make it to High Priest without a certain degree of people skills included but not limited to negotiating, preaching, and being able to reason your way through any theological question a questioning sinner could ask you. It’s a shame we don’t see it put into use very often throughout the series, but I think his position gives enough testament to his people skills. The second way this line applied is a bit more literal and a bit more dark, which would be the sheer amount of people who were murdered not by his hands directly, but on mere orders. He can quite literally have people slain in just a few words to the right people. Moving to the more esoteric; the line “You are powerful, but struggle believing it. You think you're not enough.” seems like it be a hitch to his characterization, as it first invokes the idea of someone who lacks self-confidence, which is FAR from what we see Zane characterized as in the story. However I see this from the lense of artists becoming blind to the depth of their own skill. Zane is powerful, but it’s not enough for him. He’s become so accustomed to the level of influence he holds he’s become desensitized to it, like how you stop feeling the cold of the water once you stay in it long enough.The power he’s been swimming in his entire life no longer brings that vitalic shudder of control he craves. Thus he seeks power that goes beyond mortal influence to raw, unchanneled divinity, as that’s the only thing that he has ever been told is above him. He hungers the same as any artist— to be something greater than they already are.
“You convince yourself that pain is art because at least then, you will always have something to create.” The idea of creation draws back to Zane’s relationship with control and divinity. I think it's highly debatable as to whether or not Zane has actual “faith” in the divine (i.e, seeing them as gods he wishes to emulate or simply as extremely powerful beings minus the religious element), but in either case it again leads back to desire for more. (sidenote: Zane’s fatal flaw being lust is such a delicious piece of irony and I could make an essay of its own on it). Anyway, back to the point I was originally trying to make: Zane sows pain and destruction as a means of asserting his power/importance both to others and himself. The “pain” spoken of would normally belong to the poet themself— but this is no ordinary poet, and there is no specific indication where said pain emerges from. 
"Duty. Strength. Resignation. You were told to do things and you did them. The world is something that was put into your hands and that you must deal with - so you will. You have a rigid back and steady hands, either metaphorically or physically. Is it nature or nurture ? You don't know. You are tired of being steady. You dream of feeling alive. Not that you aren't, but, sometimes, it's hard to remember that there is a heart between your ribs. Your love is where you breathe." -King
God where do I start. “Duty. Strength. Resignation” It’s like someone just said ‘describe Garroth in three words’. Duty has been his entire life, wanted or not, which leads directly into resignation. “You were told to do things and you did them.The world is something that was put into your hands and that you must deal with - so you will.” He learned his history. He learned the politics. He followed the dogma. He believed in Irene and his father and the glory of O’Khasis and his divine duty to lord over its people. His people. He said it himself in episode 68 he wanted to be exactly like his father, and that he thought to be lord was an honor and a privilege. To him, the weight of the world has rested upon his shoulders for so long that he becomes accustomed to each additional hardship quickly and quietly, never kicking up a fuss about his growing stress and dissatisfaction, like a frog in a pool of water that is steadily increasing in temperature. He locks his festering disdain for glorification of leadership away from his father, his family, and the rest of the world because he cannot show that he is anything but the Atlas of duty he was born to be. 
Until, one day, he has enough. He saw what happens to his dear little brother, likely the only person he felt he could truly bond with, and despite everything he still dealt with it, for the sake of the people around him, but when his father commands him to marry a girl he has never met (likely while he is still processing his grief) in the name of ‘duty’, it is the straw that breaks the camel's back. He sees that everything he has worked towards is meaningless as he will never reach a point where his father will be satisfied with him. That his father will continue to take and take from him until there is nothing left but a soulless puppet that will continue to speak his words even after his reign has ended. Every burden he has carried, every grievance he has hidden, every struggle he’s overcome and the hard work he’s put into building himself a true heir of O’Khasis— it all amounts to nothing.
So he leaves. 
Now, let me ask you: what would you do if you were a runaway prince escaping the crushing weight of expectation? Take a bunch of money from your no-good dad? Buy a boat ticket and live a new life in luxury on the other side of the world? Never work a day again and dive head first into careless relaxation? Surely, you wouldn’t look twice at a dilapidated little village on the coast. Wouldn’t bother to stop by and lift a finger to help it. You're free, you have a whole life of sweet exemption to look forward to. You wouldn’t give it the time of day.
“You have a rigid back and steady hands, either metaphorically or physically. Is it nature or nurture?”
Garroth finds himself in Phoenix Drop— a rickety dead-end little town as far away from home as possible. He stays, and he helps. He keeps the village running, he helps the Lord wherever he can. He takes in the broken, starved boy he finds in the woods. He does whatever he can to improve the lives of the people around him. Why? He owes them nothing, he’s spent a lifetime crushed under the weight of people's expectations and he turns around just to find himself carrying the weight of more lives on his shoulders. He is doing everything he was taught and everything he ran away from. 
But this time it’s different. This time, he sees how he’s helping. There’s no more grating voice telling him none of the effort matters. He has a rigid back and steady hands, metaphorically and physically. For the first time in his life, he can see with his own two eyes that his effort is worth it. There isn’t doubt and lies and corruption floating in and out of his mind. Just the warm, honest smiles of the people he helps. He feels it and it is real. The question “Is it nature or nurture?” is genuine: Is Garroth helping these people out of the kindness of his heart or because it was what he was always told to do, and now that he is without the purpose he was assigned he’s leaning on something familiar? Personally, I think that’s for the audience to decide. I myself would say a mixture of both, leaning more so towards nature. But I digress. 
It’s better then, when he helps and can see that he is doing good, but of course, that peace is not to last him. With the Lord’s death and impending turmoil of Phoenix Drop, Garroth’s role in the village shifts drastically to closer resembling the role he ran away from. People are treating him with near as much kindness anymore, no. The most forgiving are losing faith and the least are blaming him. Blaming him for failing to meet their expectations. Now, as things are deteriorating, he has more than enough reason to leave. He gave it the good ol’ college try, and he failed. With the sentiments of the village becoming scarily familiar to that of his father, he should just say “fuck it” and head on off to that faraway land where no one will know his name.
But still, he doesn’t. We see him in Rebirth and how desperate he is to fix the village, to make it work. Even when everyone else is telling him to give up, he refuses. Even sinking, a captain stays on his ship. (Side note: it’s scenes like this that cause me to start tearing up people’s lawns whenever I see takes that label Garroth as having a “fear of responsibility”). And he is completely ready to either make things work or die trying, regardless of what stands in his way. 
‘You are tired of being steady. You dream of feeling alive. Not that you aren't, but, sometimes, it's hard to remember that there is a heart between your ribs.’
Aphmau wasn’t the first person he saved. Zenix had likely been around for at least a year beforehand. However Zenix was a hothead teenager in need of guidance, which simply made him become another responsibility Garroth set upon himself. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely cares for him, but their relationship is far different than the one he has with Aphmau. 
With Aphmau, he finally has someone who shares the burden. Not only that, but sharing it willingly and with a smile on her face. He’s not used to having a person who presents themselves as an equal sharer of responsibility. Much less, someone who is willing and wanting for him to put his burdens on her (At least, that’s how he sees it). He can’t remember the last time he truly allowed himself to be vulnerable with someone. All the desires he’s pushed down start to bubble back up again, and he starts to imagine things he’d long tried to do away with. He sees Aphmau as a strong leader, one whose idealism is a strength and not a weakness, and how she accomplishes things he never quite got around to doing. An admiration grows for her, yes, but that’s not what makes her different. The difference, he sees, is her vulnerability. How she allows herself to be vulnerable around him. How despite the brave face she puts on, she has just as much fear that she isn’t enough. And she tells him this, directly, because she trusts him. And all of a sudden he realizes that if she can be strong to the rest of the world, and yet still let him see her weakness, her softness, then maybe, just maybe
“Your love is where you breathe.”
He can take his armor off, too.
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swamp-chicken · 2 years
Note
for the writing prompts, maybe ethubs with “you’re my happy place” “dont get cheesy on me” hehe - 👻
Sorry you waited a month for this LOL
happy place 2903 words // cw intoxication, alcohol use
Bdubs was fast asleep, dreaming of something pleasant like horsies or rabbits, when he was woken abruptly by a loud clatter. Bdubs was instantly wide awake. Bdubs’ clock, barely visible in the moonlight, showed it was past midnight.
The monolith was mob-proof, but Bdubs had still been surprised a few times. Once, he had been woken up by a rogue skeleton that must have snuck in a window. Now… he peered through the dark, eyes focusing immediately on a shadow closing in on him. Bdubs shrieked and flung a pillow at the creature.
“Agh! Bdubs, it’s me!”
Bdubs slowly lowered the second pillow he held at the ready. “Etho?”
The figure drew nearer, and yup, it was Etho, hair shining silver in the moonlight. He stumbled into Bdubs’ nightstand. “Ow.”
Bdubs frowned. “Um, what are you doing here? Are you okay?” Bdubs kept Etho’s bedroom in the basement clean in case Etho wanted somewhere to crash near spawn, but this was very much not Etho’s bedroom.
“‘M fine,” Etho said, “just wanted to see you.” He tipped forwards onto Bdubs bed.
Bdubs scrambled back towards the wall. “Are you… are you drunk?” No. Impossible. Bdubs had known Etho for years, and the guy—while he had no issue consuming massive amounts of caffeine—mostly steered clear of alcohol.
In fact, Bdubs had only seen Etho drink once before. An evening long, long ago, in another world with another group of people. A little server get-together. They had been much younger then, Bdubs still tripping over himself to impress Etho. His stomach had given a flip, then, when Etho had chosen to sit next to him.
They were sitting on the ground, a couple of nearby dirt-and-timber houses the only infrastructure in this newly-discovered world. Genny passed some beers to Bdubs, and Bdubs offered one to Etho just to be polite. Etho had always demurred in the past, choosing instead to quietly watch them all make drunken fools of themselves. Usually he would cut out early, when things started to get too rowdy, and went back to his base alone. That night, though, Etho had taken the proffered beer from Bdubs’ hand with a shy smile.
Bdubs grinned. “You finally joining us plebs?”
“It’s a special occasion,” Etho defended, cracking open the can. “New world and everything.”
It was a new world, Bdubs marveled. Unexplored, unbuilt, and Etho sitting at his side.
The conversation that night was winding, people making plans, making toasts. Bdubs quickly learned that Etho laughed more when he drank. Bdubs liked making his friends laugh, he liked entertaining them, but there was something special about the way Etho leaned into Bdubs’ side while he laughed breathlessly. Something that made Bdubs’ chest warm.
As the night wore on, Etho leaned into Bdubs’ side more and more heavily, and Bdubs increasingly began to put on a performance for one.
“Hey, are you two listening?” Guude’s voice snagged Bdubs attention.
He reluctantly unstuck himself from Etho’s side. “What’d I miss?”
Guude gestured around the circle. “We’re deciding who’s building the nether hub this season. No one’s volunteered.”
Bdubs glanced around the group, most of whom were sitting silently. He cleared his throat. “I mean, Genny and I worked on the expansion last season… If you really needed someone, I guess I could…”
Etho leaned forward. “I’ll do it,” he said.
Bdubs glanced at him sidelong. “Really?���
Etho shrugged, smiled at Bdubs. “Yeah, it sounds fun.”
Bdubs found himself smiling back. “Yeah, it could be fun. I’ll help, too.”
Guude stifled a laugh. “Then that’s that. You guys are the nether hub team. Now you can go back to… whatever you were doing.” The group started chattering to each other again, a tone of relief in their voices.
Bdubs turned to Etho. “You know, they’re going to hold you to that. You can’t wiggle out of it by claiming you were under the influence.” Bdubs grimaced, remembering some past promises he had made while tipsy.
“I know.” Etho seemed unconcerned. “I really have been wanting to work on something big. A community project.” He hesitated a moment. “Something with you.”
“Aww,” Bdubs said. It took every ounce of his dwindling self-control not to leap to his feet and punch the air. Etho wanted to work with him. “Well, it’s going to be awesome. Got any building ideas in that genius head of yours?”
Etho settled back against Bdubs’ side. “Maybe,” he said, fighting a smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“It’s gonna be so cool,” Bdubs blabbered. “I want to do something massive. Something with a dome? Like, a cathedral or something—”
Etho laughed, stifling a yawn.
Bdubs broke off. “Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around Etho. “Tired?”
Etho nodded into Bdubs’ shoulder. “Should probably go to bed.”
Bdubs stood, brushing the dirt off his pants. “Come on, then.” He offered Etho a hand.
Etho rose to his feet, stumbling into Bdubs as he did. He was maybe a little more drunk than he seemed.
Bdubs was, too. “I’ll walk you back to your house. Protect you from any creepers.”
Etho snorted, leaning forward into Bdubs space, so close that Bdubs’ heart skipped a beat. “Right, you’ll protect me.”
Bdubs straightened indignantly. “What, you don’t believe me? I’m a stone-cold monster killing machine. Creepers run from me, skeletons cower in fear!”
Etho was giggling helplessly. He pulled Bdubs towards him and it took a moment for Bdubs to realize he was being hugged. “I’m so glad I met you, Bdubs,” Etho said into Bdubs’ hair, voice curling with fondness.
“O-Oh—“ Bdubs stuttered, his heart suddenly pounding. “That’s very… You’re sweet.”
Etho pulled back and his eyes were crinkled into a smile, warm. “I think I can make it back on my own. Thanks for offering, though.” His gaze traced over Bdubs’ face, lingering long enough that heat rose in Bdubs’ cheeks. “Goodnight.”
Bdubs swallowed. “‘Night,” he replied, but Etho was already walking away.
That had been the first and last time Bdubs had seen Etho drunk. After that, he kept up with his old habits. Refusing drinks, leaving before things got too rowdy. But something had changed between them. The warmth that blossomed in Bdubs’ chest when he saw Etho, the answering warmth in Etho’s eyes. The nether hub that they had sunk countless hours into, that had turned out even more glorious than Bdubs had imagined.
It had been a good night.
And now here Etho was, lying facedown in Bdubs’ bed and very clearly intoxicated.
“N’mnk,” Etho said, muffled against the blanket.
“Come again?"
Etho wiggled forwards, swinging his legs on to the bed.
“Shoes!” Bdubs shrilled.
Etho huffed against the mattress and kicked his shoes off. They landed on the floor with a thud. He turned his head to the side, out of the way of the blanket, and tried again. “‘M not drunk. Cub had me test some new potions.”
“Right… potions.”
“I was walking by Keralis’s place, and he and XB invited me in, asked me to try Cub’s new concoction…” Etho trailed off, blinking into the distance. “Oh my goodness. Those were drinks. I am drunk.”
Bdubs laughed. “What, you didn’t know?”
Etho seemed a little dazed. “I was wondering why Keralis seemed so surprised when I agreed to take a shot.”
Bdubs choked. “They were shots?”
Etho glanced at Bdubs and cracked up.
“Oh, brother,” Bdubs snickered, unable to hold in his own laughter. “You need a chaperone.”
Etho squirmed himself further onto the bed. “Maybe.”
Bdubs smiled down at him. “I kept your place downstairs just how you left it. Want me to get you set up down there?”
Etho hummed noncommittally.
“Ah,” Bdubs said. “You want to stay up here so I can tell you a bedtime story.”
Etho giggled and wiggled closer. He was practically in Bdubs’ arms by now. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Bdubs heart gave a little thrill, like it did every time Etho came near. Right, a story. He cleared his throat with a dramatic flair. “Once upon a time there was a guy name Etho. He was an okay redstoner, I guess. Maybe even decent. Then one day he met Bdubs, who taught him everything he knew…”
Etho laughed. His face was very close. “I think I know this one.”
Bdubs wanted to smooth the hair out of Etho’s eyes but he kept his hands firmly where they were. One propping his head up, the other braced against the bed, almost curled against Etho’s chest.
“You’ll let me stay the night, right?” Etho asked, quietly.
“Of course.” Bdubs’ mouth was dry.
Etho’s eyes were shining in the dark. He reached out and cupped Bdubs’ face, hand warm. Bdubs was frozen, he felt pinned down by the featherlight touch of Etho’s thumb tracing the line of his cheek. “You always take such good care of me,” Etho murmured. “Thank you.”
Void knows you need it. The quip was right there, ready to be lobbed at Etho so the moment could be laughed off and Bdubs could roll over and go back to sleep.
Bdubs didn’t want to laugh the moment off. He nervously wet his lips with his tongue, Etho distractedly tracking the movement with his eyes. “Well, I care,” Bdubs said instead. A little too honest, a little too exposing.
Etho smiled. He pulled his hand off Bdubs’ cheek but shifted closer, Bdubs’ knuckles bumping against his sternum. Bdubs lifted his hand obligingly and then Etho was actually in his arms, smiling at him dopily. Bdubs stroked his hand down Etho’s back and tentatively dropped the arm propping his head up, lowering himself down until he and Etho were level, their noses almost touching. They made uncomfortable eye contact for a long moment.
At least, it was uncomfortable on Bdubs’ end, his heart rushing in his ears, feeling like he had just scraped off a layer of skin telling Etho he cared. Etho seemed completely at ease, however, his eyelids lowering with each second that passed. Bdubs snorted. Etho was falling asleep.
“Hey,” Bdubs said, wanting to get an answer before Etho nodded off, wanting to at least try and level the playing field. “Why did you come see me? Really.”
Etho’s eyes were mostly closed. “Bedtime story,” he said, and chuckled at his own joke.
Bdubs rolled his eyes.
“No—“ Etho’s voice was so quiet Bdubs had to strain to hear it, despite how close they were lying. “I told you, I just wanted to see you. You’re my happy place.”
Bdubs felt like he had been hit by a truck. “Don’t—don’t get cheesy on me,” he stammered.
Etho blinked one eye open, peeking at Bdubs face. He flushed at whatever he saw there, then resolutely rolled over, his back to Bdubs.
“Hey!” Bdubs whispered hoarsely.
There was an unmistakable smile in Etho's voice when he murmured, “Goodnight.”
———
Bdubs woke early, like usual. Etho was still passed out in his bed, snoring soundly. He had rolled back towards Bdubs in the night, tucking his head against Bdubs’ shoulder. Looking at Etho curled against him, there was a pressure in Bdubs’ chest that was almost painful. He didn’t want to investigate it too deeply
Bdubs decided to get up instead. He carefully dislodged himself from Etho’s embrace, dressing himself and dithering around his room. Etho didn’t budge the whole time. Bdubs stood in his doorway for an extra moment, watching Etho sleep, before remembering himself. Right, he had things to do today.
His first task was some inventory-taking. His storage was a mess by now, shulkers practically carpeting the floor of the monolith. He sorted through them until he found what he needed for his next project, organizing it as he went. After an hour there still hadn’t been a noise from the bedroom. Bdubs was a little concerned by now.
Bdubs had an old potion recipe tucked up his sleeve, one that had come in handy after many a late evening with good company and good drinks. He didn’t use it that much these days, but he could still brew it without much thought or effort. He was only a few minutes at his brewing stand. Bdubs stoppered the bottle and carried the final product upstairs.
Etho was still lying in Bdubs’ bed, covers drawn up to his nose. His eyes were open. He gave a guilty start as Bdubs walked in.
“How are you feeling?” Bdubs asked dryly.
“Horrible,” Etho answered. His voice was muffled by the blanket.
Bdubs snorted. “Here, try this.” He held the potion out.
Etho’s snuck an arm out from under the covers and snatched the potion out of Bdubs’ hands. He brought it close to his face, inspected the contents of the bottle with his brow furrowed. He glanced at Bdubs suspiciously.
Bdubs could have gotten offended by Etho’s obvious mistrust, but the vision of Etho in his arms, giggling and relaxed, was too fresh. He swallowed a laugh instead and sat at the edge of the bed. “Relax, it’s a hangover cure, not a special ‘concoction.’”
Etho, apparently satisfied by that explanation, uncorked the bottle and downed it with one swig. He grimaced at the taste, but Bdubs was no slouch at potion-making. A second later, Etho’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s strong.”
Bdubs sat back against the bed post, crossing his arms smugly. “Now does Bdubs know his stuff or what?”
Etho sat up, tentatively, leaning against the headboard. The blankets pooled in his lap. He worried his lip, glanced towards the door and then back at Bdubs again. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
This was normally the part where Etho would be scrambling out of the room, calling goodbye over his shoulder, and Bdubs wouldn’t see him for a few weeks. But for some reason, Etho wasn’t moving from his spot on the bed. He picked at his fingernails instead.
Bdubs let the silence stretch awkwardly. He was curious where this might go.
Finally, Etho spoke up. “Did I… say anything last night?”
Bdubs bit down on the smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “You mean last night, when you broke in to my room?”
Etho pressed his lips together and nodded.
“Last night, when you climbed into bed with me?”
Stiffly, Etho nodded again.
“Yeah, you said something.”
“Bdubs,” Etho whined. His face was red with mortification.
Bdubs let out a bark of laughter and Etho glared at him. “You said cute stuff! Like how I was your happy place!”
Etho covered his face in horror. “I did not.”
“Oh, you did,” Bdubs grinned. “It’s fine, though! You don’t have to be embarrassed or anything.”
Etho groaned, his face still buried in his hands.
“You really shouldn’t be embarrassed, though.” Bdubs fidgeted, then spoke before he lost his nerve. “’Cuz I feel the same way.”
Etho slowly pulled his hands away from his face. His brow was creased, expression impossible to read.
Bdubs leapt off the bed, stomach clenching wildly. “Yup! So. I’ll see you later. Gotta get to work.” He turned to leave.
Etho lunged forward and grabbed Bdubs’ wrist. He blinked up at Bdubs, looking surprised by his own actions.
“What?” Bdubs asked.
Etho pursed his lips. “Bdubs… that’s so cheesy.”
“That’s what I said!”
Etho was just staring up at him, eyes wide. “You—“ he started, then cut himself off. His expression firmed. He rose to his knees and reeled Bdubs in by his wrist. Bdubs stumbled towards him, confused.
Etho was bracing himself for something, eyes darting around Bdubs’ face. And then, abruptly, he leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to Bdubs’ lips.
Bdubs froze, heart knocking painfully against his ribs. This was… Etho was…
Etho drew back, scanned Bdubs’ face anxiously.
“Oh,” Bdubs managed to say, voice weak.
Disappointment flickered across Etho’s face.
Bdubs shook himself. Surely Etho didn’t think… Etho couldn’t think… Did he not know how Bdubs felt?
Bdubs scrambled. “No, wait, I mean… here.” Bdubs took a deep breath and smoothed his hands along Etho’s cheeks, watching Etho’s gaze soften. He pulled Etho towards him and kissed him gently. More gently than Etho’s kiss, at least. Not that it was a competition or anything.
Etho melted against Bdubs, the tension falling out of him, and then they were kissing in earnest; Etho’s mouth moving against his, hesitantly, but with more assurance after Bdubs gave an encouraging hum. They were kissing, Bdubs moving his hands to cup Etho’s jaw, tilting Etho towards him. Etho’s hands settling lightly on his waist.
Bdubs pulled back, chucking Etho affectionately under the chin. “There.”
There was a flush staining Etho’s cheeks. “What, that’s it?”
“Yeah, I got stuff to do,” Bdubs said with a smirk, rocking on his heels.
Etho narrowed his eyes.
Bdubs snorted at his expression, stomach fluttering. “I guess I could be persuaded to stay a little longer…”
Etho tugged Bdubs down on to the bed. “I don’t know why I need to persuade you, since I’m your happy place and all.”
“It doesn’t work like that! You said it first, so you can’t tease me without teasing yourself.”
Etho hardly seemed to hear him. He was staring at Bdubs mouth again, expression hungry.
“Oh, fine,” Bdubs sighed. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I don’t have anywhere to be until… noon? Maybe? I’m yours until then.”
Etho pounced.
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amberstormblade · 3 months
Text
Girl Help I became possessed and wrote over 1000 words for the Viking-Piglin AU I came up with the other day. I don't know how this happened and I'm slightly scared that it will happen again. Enjoy
Part Two
It all started off so simply. Joy was trying to make a potion that would allow her to speak with piglins. She was always needing Nether materials and it would be nice to have the ability to trade again since the villagers still hadn’t forgiven her for the incident that had taken place oh so long ago. It was hopefully in its final stages, she just needed some help testing it. That’s where Legundo, the server’s resident piglin hybrid, came in. She would drink the potion, ask him to say some things in his native tongue and see if it was properly translated. Then, she would say some things and he would let her know what language he heard them in. They both decided it would be best to test this at Joy’s house to keep any mishaps contained since her more customized potions could be a bit wild. It wasn’t until they were walking up the path that Legundo noticed something strange.
“Hey hey hey! Wait a second, did you see that?” Legundo asked as they approached. “Seems you have a bit of a haunted house!” There’s a laugh in his voice as they both stop and peek through the window at what was clearly Viking, rummaging through Joy’s rather unorganized potion collection. 
“Oh! Maybe he needs more fire resistance? The poor guy keeps running out. Maybe he’d be interested in testing my newest potion out with us! I’ll go ask and-”
“Wait!” Legundo stopped walking and put a hand on Joy’s shoulder. He gave her a mischievous grin. “Viking’s always scaring people by just showing up out of nowhere, right? I say we give him a taste of his own medicine! He’s got his back to us right now so as long as we stay quiet and take it slow… Oh yeah, this is gonna be great!”
The two nod at each other and carefully make their way to the door. Legundo took the lead as they snuck through into the sitting room area that had been taken over by Joy’s latest project. Surprisingly, Viking still hadn’t noticed them, too focused on all of the potions that had been haphazardly pushed to the side. Legundo took a deep breath as Joy did her best to stifle her giggling. 
Just as it looked like Viking was going to turn around, Legundo screamed, “BELL NOISES!” causing Viking to jump and let out a high pitched screech, almost seeming to phase out of the physical world for a second.
Legundo and Joy shared a laugh at Viking’s shriek. They were quick to stop when they heard the shattering of glass. The shimmering red cloud that had escaped the potion bottle was instantly drawn towards the phantom, mingling with his semi corporeal form. 
“Guys,” there’s a tremble in Viking’s voice, ”I don’t- Something doesn’t feel riGH- AH!” He’s suddenly clutching his chest as the potion properly takes hold. He grits his teeth, trying to keep from screaming as it suddenly feels like he’s burning from the inside out. His knees give out as tears begin streaming down his face, the only thing keeping him from bashing his head on the floor are the sudden arms around him. He’s not quite sure who caught him, but he doesn’t have it in him to care as he curls into them and screams. The noise tears its way out of his throat as he feels as his spine almost seems to twist. He vaguely thinks he hears someone mention milk and someone else say it’s too dangerous and the thought would almost be funny if his mouth hadn’t just been filled with blood as something forces its way out of his gums. There’s a weird sensation in his chest, like someone has pushed two observers together and set off a piston with them. If he wasn’t in a constant state of almost dead, he’d think it was a heartbeat and that it was dangerously high. His screams reach an impossible volume and the arms around him just hold tighter, seeming to not care how the hand that isn’t glued to his chest is practically clawing into theirs. Through the pain and confusion he thinks he can feel leather, a belt of sorts, thinks he can fit a face to the arms but then the agony crescendos and all he can think is that he’s dying again and he’d never get the answers he was looking for. He thinks someone tells him to breathe. He wants to laugh, say that he’s not needed to do that in a long time, has only been doing it lately to keep the others from freaking out more. His lungs are burning. That can’t be right though because he doesn’t have any, shouldn’t have any. In a haze he sees what he thinks is his hand but it’s not right, it’s a pale but no longer transparent with thicker, almost claw-like nails on the end and that’s not right. He’s not alive, not really so why isn’t he transparent anymore? The burning has stopped but he still feels warmer than he has since he died. That weird pounding is still going on in his chest as well. He sucks in a breath, and then another. Noise starts filtering back to him and he realizes he’d stopped screaming at some point. The chest he’s leaned against rumbles as the person speaks.
“That’s it, just like that. Keep breathing, you’re doing great.” A calm and gentle mantra, the tone almost unfamiliar when coming from Legundo. This close to him and the man almost seems to purr. They’ve started gently swaying, rocking side to side as the tears finally slow. “Hey bud, you seem to be coming back, that’s great.” His voice stays at an almost whisper and he starts rubbing circles on Viking’s back.
On first attempt to speak, all that comes out is a hoarse croak, leaving him coughing until Joy comes over with both a bottle of water and a clearly labeled healing potion. Viking alternates sips of each until he feels like trying again. “G-guys? What just happened-” a cough escapes his throat, making him wince. “What happened to me?” There’s still the weird movement in his chest but it’s slowed, he’s starting to think that it actually is a heartbeat but still doesn’t know why.
“That potion you dropped,” Joy starts, looking nervously around the room, “That was a highly experimental project I was working on. I was calling it a Nether Potion for now. It turns things into their Nether counterpart.” She nods at some crimson roots sitting in the corner. “Those used to be beetroots. It’s been two weeks since I dropped some of that potion on them and there’s been no sign of changing back. I never even thought about what it might do to a person but,” She pauses for a second, looking between him and Legundo, “It seems you two now have some things in common?” She cringes a bit at her attempt to make light of the situation.
“Wha-” before he could finish asking, Legundo cut him off.
“What she’s trying to say is that, you’re a piglin hybrid now. You’re alive again, Viking.”
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