little-too-late
little-too-late
how late can I be?
5 posts
i um. . . I write(?)
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little-too-late · 6 months ago
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guys I’m ngl i lowkey forgot i put something out for mcd so sorry for leaving you guys hanging 💀
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little-too-late · 8 months ago
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“you’re a writer, right?”
me, staring at the one sentence i’ve managed to add in the last hour and the 12 open tabs on the specifics of shoes in 1845 Ireland: In theory.
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little-too-late · 8 months ago
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𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 ━━━━━
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━━━━━ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑
↳ a minecraft diaries x fem!reader series
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: cringe writing. this story will contain descriptions of crime, violence, murder/death and blood. proceed with caution and at your own risk.
one two three
also available on wattpad
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little-too-late · 9 months ago
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i. watch it take its shape
words: 2.4k
warnings: death/murder, mentions of blood, cringe writing
Time. It's a fragile, fickle thing. You could spend a millennium to try and make sense of its ever changing existence within itself, to unravel and change the fate that has long been written. But even then, it could never be enough to understand its complexity.
All there is to understand, what you've grown to come to terms with, is that time is unforgiving. It can muddle the most important parts of your being, bend and shape it into something beyond unrecognizable, no matter how dear you hold onto that part of yourself.
It will never be the same again, forever lost to time, no matter how much you beg it to be. Time is cruel; time eats all his children in the end.
He ate a hole in your being, a gaping emptiness that could never be filled no matter what you did. It taunted you, daring you to be rid of it, relishing in your sorrow as attempt after attempt failed.
You had surrendered to that emptiness long ago, finding shelter in the unrecognizable shell it left behind. No longer did it belong to the young girl who relished in the easier times, who carried love and kindness for the world around her, who could do no wrong.
All that you carried now was the perpetual anger for humanity and its cruel Maker who turned his back on his creations. Who were you to defend its people when even the Maker cared no longer?
You crept into the bandit's den undetected, silently dispatching its inhabitants as you ventured further into the cavern, looking for the item of interest that brought you here in the first place.
There were no hard feelings as you pulled your blade free from the fallen bandit, wiping the blood gathered on your blade on your pant leg, continuing forward as if you hadn't taken a life. You held no remorse for those who killed innocence, who took more than just their lives. It was only fair they ended up in the same pit they dug themselves.
Don't be mistaken, you were not pure of heart either. You've taken from the unsuspecting, used many's backwards thinking to your advantage ("no woman can do no harm"—these were your favorite to manipulate) on numerous occasions.
But that was all in a time before when you felt like it was the only way to get by. When you first arrived in Ru'uan, you had made the rash decision to leave your motherland behind with nothing but what you had on your back; not a single coin to your name.
It took little convincing to turn your back on your morals, especially with how angry you were at the world and yourself. You were vulnerable, malleable enough to be shaped by the shadows, and it was far too easy to fall into in the lifestyle when the city you found on your first arrival was a city known for its crime.
But even as you turned your back on your beliefs, performed deeds that your hands could never be washed free of, nothing you did came close to the things these lowlifes did in the dark. You did the world a favor be-ridding the filth.
You fiddle with a locked chest found in the chief bandit's room, wiggling a lockpick around until you hear that wonderful tune —click. The lock falls the ground, allowing you a peek at the valuables held inside.
Trinkets, odds and ends, that sort of thing. . . nothing that called for your attention. Except,
"There you are." You look over the supposed family heirloom, partially confused as to why they chose such a thing to pass down to their children's children. But then again, it's about the sentimental value the item holds, isn't it?
You shrug, placing the gewgaw into your traveling pack before leaving the bandit's den; satisfied. With the help of your steed, you quickly returned to the city to complete the job you were hired for.
There isn't much you could rave about but the city other than the fact its crime rate is astoundingly high, scaring most interested parties that dare to think about housing the empty lots within its walls.
Not a single body within those walls isn't already influenced by the right amount of coin, and it's because of this that no matter what the guards do to protect their city, crime always finds a way around it.
At least, most guards.
You pat your steed's side as you left him in the care of the stable's horse handler, reassuring him of your quick return with an apple. Only then, did you tune into the conversation between the guard on gate duty and a fresh face.
"Before I let you in, you must pay a visitor's tax." You turn your head at his words, eyes narrowing in vexation.
The woman he had stopped looked to him in confusion, rightly questioning his motivations. "The other cities I've visited didn't ask for a visitor's tax?"
"We aren't other cities, are we?" The guard condescendingly says, the woman recoiling on herself. "You want in?" She nods. "Then you must cooperate!" He finishes, holding out his grubby hand for the demanded coin.
An unwarranted heat spreads throughout your chest as you watched the woman give in to the guards quest, a smug grin forming on his face as she took out her coin pouch. Not only was he ignorant enough to believe he was going to collect his lousy coin, but he was moronic enough to leave his helm behind while on duty.
Any chatter around them came to a startled halt as an embarrassing shriek leaves the man, a tip of a blade staring right back at him, only a centimeter away from blinding his left-eye. "Have you not learned your lesson from the last you pulled this trick, guardsman?" You glare, showing no sign of lowering your weapon, "Or need I remind you?"
"Trick?" The woman echo's. You catch a glimpse of her in the corner of your eye, seemingly surprised how things were playing out in front of her. You click your tongue in annoyance, irritated by her feeble-minded and weak judgement. This city will tear her apart the moment she steps foot through those gates.
"Alright, alright! Keep your voices down, why don't you?" He takes a cautious step back, creating a distance between his eye and your blade. "I'll open the gates, so long as you don't mention this to the lord."
Coward.
"Trust me," you sheath your blade, "it won't be the lord who I'll be speaking with." The guard freezes, your vague words having him fearing for his life, leaving him in an excruciating silence as you entered the city.
Its occupants grew to understand what kind of person you were the moment you arrived through those gates; the qualities you held. It wouldn't be a surprise if you had certain connections to a certain name known throughout the city. "Wait!"
You paid no mind to the woman as she stumbled after you, her clumsy feet kicking up the rubble from beneath them as she matched your pace beside you. "Thank you for helping me back there." She smiles kindly, attempting to open a conversation with you—something you showed no interest in as you remained silent.
"You have an accent. It's nice!" Your brows pinch together at the unnecessary observation, her following question almost stopping you in your trek. "Where's it from?"
The tension in your jaw tightens as you involuntarily think back to the place you once called home, turning to her with an unkind look as you said, "Word of advice; if you cannot see a simple trick such as that one, you will never make it out in the world. Turn around and go home."
Guilt manages to sink its talons into you as you watched the shine in her eyes disappear, her eyes sadden as she turns them down to the ground. You could see it clear as day now. She was everything this city, the world, wasn't. Something it will only break down within time.
You weren't about to stick around and watch that happen. Not again. But, her eyes find that special glow once more, shocking you to a halt. "Oh, I know that now! But I came here looking to hire someone called the. . . Dark Wolf?" Your eye twitches at the name. "Someone from another city mentioned they were the best here and I was hoping if you could—where are you going?" 
Like you said, you weren't about to stick around. So, you did what you did best. You turned your back on her and left.
Past the Merchant's Market, over the bridge, led to more a secluded part of the city. Many avoided coming this way due to the belief it's where most of the darker deeds took place. And although true, for the most part, to others it's where one would come to seek anonymous help for tasks guards didn't dare take up.
No words were exchanged as you met with the person who had given you your recent job, all except for the item of interest and the promised coin. It's what you liked most about being a mercenary. It kept you busy; sane.
Your employer hums in approval as you returned the family heirloom to them, paying no mind to the smear of blood on it. He tosses a pouch of coin to you as he praises, "Didn't expect you to work so fast. Shouldn't have expected anything less from the Dark Wolf, herself."
You wish you could hunt down whoever started spreading that distasteful name around and personally see them to their end. "Pleasure doing business with you." You sourly mumbled as he left, tying the pouch to your waist when you hear movement behind you.
"You're the Dark Wolf?"
You flinch, turning to see the woman who you hoped you lost in the Merchant's Market, but here she was. "Were you following me this whole time?" You questioned, brows cinched at the weirdness of it all. How did you not notice her presence this whole time?
"You left in the middle of our conversation! I was hoping you'd point me in the direction of this 'Dark Wolf', but it turns out you're who I was looking for!" She exclaims, a grin on display. "Small world we live in, huh?”
A heavy sigh leaves past your lips, almost inclined to flat out decline whatever she had to offer, but something nagged at you to listen to what she had to say. "Well? What is it you want to hire me for?" Her eyes light up as she fished for her coin.
"An expedition of some sorts. Is this enough?" Your mouth parts as she presents you a hefty pouch of coin, your hand immediately pushing hers down as you hissed,
"You will get yourself killed flaunting that kind of coin around here!" Her mouth forms an 'o' at your warning, not even thinking about resisting as you grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the meet-point. You frantically looked about for prying eyes that might have been lurking around, eyes that would do anything for some coin (and that didn't exclude murdering the innocent).
"Sorry." She says, now in the comforts of the room you've rented out for when visits lasted longer than expected. Such as this one.
You sat her at the small table placed adjacent from the bed, messaging the spot between your eyes in attempt to relieve the headache forming. You can't believe you were actually considering accepting the job, but if you were to be fair, you would need a good reason not to. "Before I accept, I need more details about this expedition of yours."
She perks up, only really hearing 'I accept'. "What is the end goal?" She stills at your question, adverting her eyes as she thought up something to tell you. She worried if she told you the real truth, you'd see how pointless it was and lose interest in the job. But the truth was all she could speak. "I want to travel throughout Ru'uan in hopes to remember something, anything, from my past."
"Besides my name, I don't remember who I am." Your face draws a blank, leading her to believe you were readying to decline. "You—You said it from the start, I won't make it out there; not by myself! If you could just stick around for a week or two—"
"I accept."
". . . What?"
You clench your jaw, turning away from her shinning eyes. This time around, they didn't shine with happiness (maybe something in relation). No, they shined with tears of relief. Gratefulness. You can't look at her right now. "I said I accept. All I ask for is to receive the first half of the payment now and the rest when you see fit." You answered, packing your belongings for the lengthy trip.
She had watched you pack said things, her heart full as she sat in a stranger's room, who had accepted to help her despite a weird start between them.
"Aphmau."
You still, feeling a never-ending pit in your stomach gape open at the reveal of her name. You guess it was only a matter of time. "My name is Aphmau." She repeats, prompting you to introduce yourself. "What's yours?"
Swallowing down the hard pill, you continue to pack as you answer, "I don't share names."
Aphmau's face contours with confusion, unaware of the weight knowing a name holds for you. "Why's that?" She questions further, curiosity unsatisfied.
"Because with names, comes attachments; attachments you will lose in the end." Silence finds you both once more, your words offering Aphmau something to think about as you moved around the room, keeping yourself busy.
It was by these words that made it clear to Aphmau that there's something from your past that haunts you till this day. It forced you to become closed-off, creating a troubling distance between you and anyone you meet.
She knew it wouldn't be anytime soon you'd be willing to be open with her, but deep down she hoped out of the goodness of her heart, that one day you'd be comfortable enough to do so. Whether it be with her or someone you meet along the way; she wishes nothing nothing but the best.
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little-too-late · 9 months ago
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hiiii is anyone interested in a mcd x reader? I’ve got one cooking up right now!!!
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