#eret x y/n

[milqueandsugar]

Could you make headcannons for a reader who is chronically up late at the same times, not by choice, and how it is with different SMP members? Niki and Eret are preferred, but I'm okay with any others.

Also can I be 🌺 anon? If that's taken could I be 🧃?

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of war

Welcome 🧃!

| Eret |

He doesn't mind much at first, to each their own

They quite enjoy their beauty sleep but if you were comfortable staying up late they weren't going to drag you kicking and screaming

That was until they caught on that perhaps your sleeping schedule was more out of your hands then he suspected

They bring it up, casually of course, and with much grace

You complain about your sleepless nights, nightmares of wars both won and lost keeping you up if your work isn't

And suddenly they are very invested in your sleep

"You should try this tea hun, it's supposed to help you sleep."

"Oh? Where'd you get this from?"

"Found it pushed away in the pantry, not sure if it works but it certainly tastes good."

The tea was fine, it certainly did make you sleepy, when you searched for R the next morning however you find the tag that went along with it

You aren't entirely sure why your lover is being so secretive about their concern for your health, to be honest you find it a little silly, but if they keep this up you might truly get a night's sleep in their arms, which is really what you want.

| Niki |

Old habits die hard, or so you heard

You never thought yourself a creature of habit, the countless wars made you adaptable and quick to change

But now you've settled down with you're lovely wife, and you've come to realize that years of conflict have perhaps left a mark on you

Nights, weeks, years sleeping with an eye open have made any breeze outside an enemy, any breath stirring you from any sleep you can catch, it makes a night in the bed of your lover a purgatory

Despite the lovely view she is you just want to sleep.

Niki catches on to your troubles quickly, a few times you've even stirred her awake

You first begin sleeping in separate beds, but then you were not only awake but awake, miserable and lonely, so you came crawling back quite quickly

Next was exercise, surely if your body was tired you would have to konk out

Yet no matter how hard you put your back into your chores, or some.. activities with your wife, had brought you any rest

Eventually you caved and tried a salve, the medicine was bitter and chalky but it worked

Niki found ways to bake it into your dinner and baked goods, which made it far more bareable and for once, it was your lover kept awake by you're snoring

[moriiartist]

LIKE INK IN WATER

Masterlist

Taglist

PAIRING: Ghost!Eret x GN!Reader

SUMMARY: Get a job as a tour guide at the local historic castle!’, they said. ‘It’ll be fun!’, they said. Well, now a specter of the last monarch to be crowned in its old halls has decided you’re the best thing since sliced bread, and you have to live with it.

WARNINGS: Mild language, implied/referenced death, implied/referenced murder, body horror, fainting mention

A/N: Okay- I know the warnings look bad, but in my opinion the fic is a lot lighter than it may first appear. Don’t judge a book by its cover, or... something. Anyways, enjoy, and remember to take care of yourselves y’all!

When you stepped into the darkened, cavernous expanse of the great hall from the brightness of the front lawns, you had only two things on your mind: a fresh cup of coffee and your need for a new jacket.

The squeaking of your sneakers echoed off the high stone walls and reverberated throughout the room, no doubt audible throughout the empty building. It was difficult for sound to permeate the castle’s infrastructure; the birdsong, the wind, all of it was muffled. You could almost forget that there was a world outside of the site’s sprawling grounds, that you hadn’t been transported back into the dark ages.

The emptiness was unnerving, especially during your first few days on the job, but you’d quickly grown to love it while it lasted. The serenity wouldn’t last long- not when, in about an hour, the castle would be swarming with tourists and their ankle biters.

“‘Morning Sam,” you murmured blearily as you dumped your bag onto the security kiosk’s counter, rifling through it for your employee ID. 

“Guess again,” a cheery voice greeted you, and you paused. Blinking up at the person behind the glass, you felt your eyebrows shoot up so fast that it almost hurt. The grin that spread across your face was painful in its own right, wide and broad.

“Tubbo! I didn’t know you were working today,” you beamed, sleepiness forgotten as you greeted the teen. His grin, coupled with a bright gleam in his eye, was even brighter than your own.

Tubbo shrugged, a mirthful gleam in his eye as he took your offered ID and scanned it into the security system with deft fingers. The bright glow of the computer screen illuminated his youthful features and compact, soft face, turning his skin a ghostly shade of pale blue. Catching your eye, he grinned mischievously.

No doubt about it. If Tubbo died and somehow came back, he’d be a poltergeist.

Although he was only eighteen, he’d been working at the site for three years; much longer than you, barely a month in. Security, site maintenance, guiding tours- he’d done them all. The two of you had grown close, what with all the time you’d spent around each other, and although you would be hard-pressed to admit it, you had begun to think of the kid as a little brother.

“Sam was sick today, and couldn’t come in.”

You nodded sagely. “Ponk?”

“Ponk,” he agreed.

Despite the fact that you could count the number of times you’d met Ponk on two hands, it’d been enough for you and the rest of your coworkers to develop a healthy fear of her. She was perfectly nice, if a bit of a prankster, but when it came to Sam’s workaholic tendencies…?

You winced. He definitely needed the rest, but you did not want to know what atrocities Ponk had committed in getting him to stay home for the day.

The computer beeped, and Tubbo slid your ID back through the slot in the glass with a grin. “I heard you’re chaperoning some ghost hunters this weekend.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s kind of stupid, but I’m getting paid overtime for it, so.”

“Really?” he hummed, tipping his head to the side and cupping his chin in his palm. “Sounds like someone’s a skeptic.”

You hesitated.

“I don’t… know,” you said, drawing the words out. “As far as I’m concerned, the spookiest thing in this castle the lack of air conditioning. I’ll mind my own business, and so can the ghosts- spirits, or whatever.”

“Fair,” Tubbo snickered, his grin widening into something with entirely too many teeth. “You’ll have to tell me what show came by. I want to watch the footage when the episode releases.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Tubs,” you sighed, ignoring his blatant attempt to psyche you out.

“Good luck!”

Kentillie Hold was many things to many different people. To you, it was the place where you spent your working hours, spouting scripts to visitors and their bored children. To historians, it was the crowning jewel of an ancient kingdom to rival Britain’s own, and the setting for one of the most brutal executions in history. To tourists… it was pretty and a good place to pose for Instagram pictures.

And it was, apparently, one of the most haunted places in England. At least, according to all the ghost hunters and paranormal enthusiasts that swamped the place, it was.

If you had been asked if you believed any of those claims a month ago, you would’ve called bullshit. Since your childhood, ghosts had always been a scare tactic that’d been used against you to, whether it be just to elicit some sort of reaction, or coerce you into doing something out of fear.

Years had passed, and you’d long since come to the realization that ghosts weren’t something to be afraid of- because they weren’t real. It was kind of ridiculous, the idea that the spirits of the dead had returned to the world of the living to just… hang out?

However, since your time spent at Kentillie, you were beginning to reconsider your stance on the subject.

It was easy to imagine that a place like the Hold was filled to the brim with ghosts. It was old- very, very old. Though there’d been no written record of when it was built, it had been estimated to be around 1040- almost twenty years earlier than Berkhamsted Castle. The stone walls and portcullis were crumbled and grey with age, with vines of ivy and climbing roses continually threatening to overtake the structure entirely.

Entire sections of the castle were forbidden for both staff and visitors to enter because of the rot that had done away with the castle for years before its restoration. One of the maintenance men actually had to quit because, while taking a shortcut through the restricted rooms, he had fallen through the floors and into the dungeons.

The Hold needed a lot of maintenance, too. It seemed like every other week something needed to be repaired or replaced. In fact, you’d heard that over the weekend the mirrors in the King’s Chambers had needed to be deep-cleaned. Something about the metal backing rusting and causing red fluid to start leaking out of the glass?

You had only held your job for a brief time, but that was more than long enough for you to begin to notice the… odd happenings within the site’s halls. Stuff- yours and your coworker’s- consistently disappeared and reappeared in spots they definitely weren’t in before. Guests mentioned hearing disembodied voices near closing hours, footsteps that followed them down the hall; movement out of the corner of their eyes that, when they turned to investigate, revealed nothing there.

The earnestness with which they recounted these events was enough to make even the most hard-core skeptic waver in their beliefs. Unnerving to say the least- especially when you were a witness of some of these encounters yourself.

You did your best to put it out of your mind, but more often than not you felt watched. The sensation of intangible eyes boring holes into you during your work shifts was a familiar one. Random chills, goosebumps, and running into inexplicably cold patches of air, even more so.

Acknowledging it only invited childhood fear back, so you didn’t. At least, not consciously.

More importantly than the Hold’s age or the toll that time had taken on it in reinforcing the mythology of paranormal happenings was the history held within its hallowed halls; the long, winding tale of one of the most powerful (and obscure) royal lineages to ever exist, and of a betrayal that rivaled the drama of the Ides of March.

“Do any of you know who the last reigning monarch of Kentillie Hold was?” you asked politely, gaze sweeping over the faces of the tour group you were leading. They stared at you, faces blank and uncomprehending. Someone coughed.

After checking in with Tubbo, you’d been launched into the routine that dictated your day-to-day work life: you stowed your stuff away in the staff room (which was really just a repurposed part of the cellar), changed into your uniform, and prepped for the tours that you were slated to corral. It was well past noon and you were leading your fourth- and most boring- group of your shift.

Despite the difficulty, you kept your smile staunchly plastered across your face. It wasn’t very often that you met someone who knew, given how deep the Herobrines were in the British monarchy’s shadow. However, having to explain the same thing over and over again to people who rarely cared was… tiring, to say the least.

Since it was a weekday, there were fewer people visiting. The ballroom was quiet, the hushed voices of guests barely audible against the rush of wind outside the small, port-like windows. Your voice was the loudest by far, all those Drama lessons you’d taken helping you project your voice to every corner of the space.

Before you could continue, resigned to your fate, a tiny hand shot up into the air. “Eret Herobrine!”

Your eyebrows flickered up as you gazed down at the little girl who’d answered your question, a determined gleam to her eye as her gaze met yours. Softening, you graced her with the most genuine smile you’d given throughout the duration of the tour.

“Very good!” you enthused. “They were the seventh and last reigning monarch of Herobrine.”

Stepping to the side, you gestured to the painting that’d been hung directly behind you. At your cue, the light coming through a nearby window strengthened, setting the bold colors that comprised the work alight with a fiery vibrance. “This portrait here depicts him at the height of his rule, right around the time of his coronation.”

The tourists ooo’d and ahhh’d, some of the more industrious taking out their cell phones or cameras to snap a pic. You couldn’t blame them for their enraptured reactions- you’d felt much the same the first time you’d seen it.

That painting- ‘Winter After The Coronation’- was one of the many mysteries of the Hold. It was ancient, but somehow throughout the years, it had managed to remain as pristine as the day it was framed. Whether it was because it was found stored within the walls of the castle, far away from the elements, or through some method of sealing or making paint that made it immune to weathering, the artistry was pristine.

And oh, was it breathtaking.

Brought to life on the canvas was the likeness of a tall, aristocratic figure, clothed in a furred red cape and dripping with gold. They were standing in a garden, snow falling in thick flakes and tangling in their long, curly dark hair; catching in their eyelashes and clinging to the branches of holly and yew that framed their face like a thorny crown.

Somehow, the painter had managed to capture the texture and feel of the expensive fabrics draped across his form, the play of light across his face, and the cool flush that the biting wind brought to his face. Eret’s eyes were dark and warm, his brows arched and expression serene. The suggestion of a smile lingered around the lines of his mouth- like he knew a secret that you didn’t.

“As you all can see, she’s not wearing a crown,” you extrapolated after allowing the visitors to admire the work for a few moments, drawing their attention back to you. “This is just one of the many mysteries surrounding Eret and her reign. Paintings were extremely expensive to commission, and so most royals in the Herobrine line only had their portraits taken once or twice in their lifetime.

“So, why would Eret choose not to appear in their crown, as so many of their predecessors did? Why would they remove their most defining mark of status, one of the only things that could’ve been used to identify them once they’d passed on?”

The little girl who had spoken up frowned. “Maybe he thought it was ugly.”

You laughed, turning your head to look at the canvas once more. The painted eyes almost seemed to stare back, hidden truths swirling within their depths.

“I guess we’ll never know. It’s not like we can call her up and ask her,” you joked, earning a few smiles from the peanut gallery. It was muscle memory to glance away from your tour group while they chattered amongst one another and make a sweep of the room, checking for any guests that might’ve wandered away. 

Movement from the corner of your eye drew your gaze.

Squinting, you hazarded a step closer to the source of your distraction, one of the many mirrors that dotted the walls. Some insane interior designer had gone absolutely crazy with mirrors- almost every vertical surface was covered with them, and they were large. We’re talking floor-to-ceiling, non-stop reflective action.

Now that you were looking at it, nothing seemed amiss… but you could’ve sworn you saw something. You were confident enough in your suspicion to draw even nearer, close enough to touch the glass surface if you reached out.

There- at the very edge of the mirror, you barely caught the flutter of a cape sliding out of view.

You blinked once, twice, three times, feeling your heart pick up in pace. You glanced behind you. Nobody was wearing anything resembling what you’d seen- except, perhaps, the elegant old woman in the red trench coat that was perusing the floor, arm delicately linked with her husband’s.

Leaning back, you smoothed your hands down the shirt of your uniform, taking slow, measured breaths. Nothing else appeared in the mirror, and you felt yourself begin to calm down. You even managed to force out a breathy chuckle.

Oh, you would be having words with Tubbo later. The dude must’ve been more effective at freaking you out than he really was.

You pointedly ignored the prickling sensation as every hair on your body stood on end.

Ushering the group along, you led them through the dark hallways that wound throughout the interior of the Hold. Your path was lit only by the flickering beeswax candles that dotted the walls every ten paces or so; you pointed them out to your tour group, remarking how, back in the day, they used tallow candles made from animal fat instead.

Only one place was left for you to visit before this particular tour was over, and that was the Hold’s most famous room: the Royal Suite.

Located on the uppermost floor, the sprawling chambers took up almost the entire level- with only a little bit of space for the receiving room, where guests could sit and have tea. 

Unlike the rest of the castle grounds, the Royal Suite and the adjacent areas were completely forbidden for guests to enter by themselves. Only tour groups were allowed to access them, so the delighted gasps and assorted sounds of awe that arose as you pushed open the heavy cherrywood door were… pretty par for the course, actually.

If you had to pick which part of Kentillie grounds was your favorite, you’d be a dirty liar if you didn’t at least mention the opulent rooms that awaited you beyond the open doorway.

When the castle was restored, the most work and effort was put into the Royal Suite. According to what records were available, this was where the Herobrine family’s reigning monarchs ate, slept, and lived; it was a testament to the wealth they’d gathered throughout their long stewardship of the British Isles.

You watched with keen eyes as the guests spread out, gaping at the craftsmanship that had gone into every inch of the connected chambers.

Detailed paintings of wildlife covered the walls, depicting everything from gnarled forest trees to different kinds of birds, foxes, and weasels. The floors were polished to a mirror glaze, made of some type of dark red granite. Overhead, porcelain chandeliers that burned with a thousand little candles cast rainbow-colored light throughout the room.

Plush carpets, woven thick enough that your feet hardly made a sound as you walked across them, padded the center of the space. Right on top of it was the canopy bed- one of the biggest beds, in fact, that you think you’ve ever seen.

Were you to lay down upon it lengthwise, you would have at least another half-meter or so of space on either end. The mattress was overflowing with pillows- the expensive horsehair kind that looked so overstuffed they might explode at any moment; each richly colored and embroidered with delicate furls of ferns.

To the right, you could see the short hallway that led to the cordoned-off bath chamber. Although it was forbidden to enter- something about structural integrity- you could still make out the play of light against the multicolored ceramic tiles that dotted the floor.

If your memory served you correctly, the majority of the space inside was taken up by a gargantuan claw-footed bath that the royalty would use to immerse themselves in perfumed water and flower petals. It was actually quite a flex in the olden times to have a room solely delegated to bathing, seeing as most people couldn’t afford to take them too often. Heating up the water, having servants haul it upstairs, and then only using it once before it was drained… 

Yeah.

To your left was the study, which also had a barrier to prevent any tourists from wandering in and breaking something. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, bracketing a lone desk covered with papers. One of the most interesting things about the Herobrine family was their value of literature and literacy; You think that Eret even wrote a book before she died.

You smirked. Right, you were just getting to that.

There were a few more rooms beyond that, used to hold meetings with local knights and lords- but you weren’t interested in those. No, you were much more focused on the room you were standing in. The one where they were murdered.

Clearing your throat, you gathered your audience before you, herding them into position at the foot of the bed. You spread your arms wide, and with the same amount of drama as an actor about to perform a soliloquy.

“This was His Royal Highnesses chambers,” you exclaimed, allowing your smirk to grow. You winked at the little girl from before, peeking out from behind her mother’s back. “Though some of you might’ve already known that.”

Earning a few chuckles from your audience, you allowed your arms to fall back into a neutral state. “This was where Eret Herobrine at the height of her rule ate, slept, bathed, and occasionally held court. One could say that is was the primary backdrop for her life.

“It was the backdrop for the end of her life as well.”

Stepping to the side, you circled the canopy frame, stopping right beside the headboard. Reaching behind it, you heard your tour group collectively inhale as you drew a long, wicked-looking dagger from out behind it.

“Only two years after their coronation,” you went on, spinning the blade between your fingers, “Eret was slaughtered in cold blood.”

Someone gasped as you stabbed the dagger into the pillow, just about where someone’s head would be if they were laying down. You laughed wickedly, enjoying their momentary shock. It had to be the most emotion you’d elicited from the group yet.

“Their very own personal advisor, a former knight by the name of Dream, snuck up into their chambers late at night and killed them. His plan was to put a new ruler into power: his lover, a lord by the name of George.”

You shook your head, sighing internally at the sheer audacity.

“Of course, he didn’t succeed. Both Dream and George were executed, while those who were accused of aiding them fled the land.

“Ultimately, though, Eret’s death was too much for the kingdom to take, and it crumbled into obscurity not long after. The remains of Kentillie Hold are all that remain of the proud Herobrine legacy, so thank you for booking a tour with us.”

The visitors all clapped politely, and you bowed.

“If you’d like to donate money, please deposit it in the boxes on the first floor.”

As the group dispersed, their hour long tour finally finished, you surreptitiously checked the blankets covered the bed. Although the blade you’d used was obviously plastic, you would still get in trouble if you damaged anything- and you could not afford the hundreds of dollars it would take to fix it if it got torn.

You jolted as something brushed your shoulder lightly, head snapping up to stare suspiciously at the empty space that surrounded you. Before you could begin to question it too much, however, you were distracted by a tug on your pants.

“Can I help you?” you asked, staring down at the little girl whose hands were securely fisted in the fabric of your clothes. Her parents rushed up behind her; the mother pulling the girl away and into her embrace.

“Sorry, she’s still learning about personal space,” the father said sheepishly. He turned back towards his daughter, face softening. “Didn’t you have something to give the nice tour guide, sweetie?”

Shyly, she extracted her arms from her mother’s hold, holding out a crisp twenty dollar bill for you to take.

“Oh!” you said, your previously bemused expression shifting into a gentle smile. “Thank you!”

You shivered as you crouched to take it from here, the temperature of the room seeming to have gone down by a few degrees. Rubbing at your arms, you offered her one last grin before her parents swept her away to the safety of the sunny outdoors.

Or- not so sunny. Shit.

How late was it?

Pulling out your phone, you blanched at the time that blinked up at you from the screen: 6:00 PM. It was well past the point you should’ve been making your way back to the staff room to get changed and drive home, and if you waited any longer you wouldn’t be getting back ot the house until at least midnight.

“Damn it,” you cursed. Luckily, no one else was around to scold you except yourself, the rest of the visitors having long since exited the room.

Starting the long trek to the first floor, you couldn’t dispel the goosebumps that had surfaced all over your body. Normally they would only last so long before they inevitably relaxed- but it was somehow different this time. Like you were reacting to something much different than what you normally dealt with.

The last of your tour group were exiting the building when you finally made it all the way down, breaths heaving and shaky as you momentarily braced yourself against one of the cold stone walls. You frowned down at your wobbly legs, bemoaning your lack of athleticism.

Most of the staff had already left. The majority of the work done in the Hold was either in the mornings or on the weekends, so on days like this the only people left at this hour were you and the security guards that patrolled the grounds. Tubbo was going to pack up soon, probably in about thirty minutes, so you had to be fast.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the electricity in the air when you barged down into the cellar-turned-staff room, complaining about the freezing air temperature as you slipped into the changing room.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the droplets of blood dotting the floor as you padded to your locker, checking the time once more with a harried expression. The soles of your feet were stained red, leaving sticky, bright footprints like a breadcrumb trail behind you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the figure floating behind you until it was too late- until your hind-brain was screaming at you to run, to hide, to do anything but stay here. 

You could ignore a lot of things, but not your instincts when they were this insistent. Which is why, when the air behind you chilled in an upside-down facsimile of body heat, you finally recognized the storm brewing.

Your body went as still as the grave when you made eye contact with it in the reflection of your phone, breathing shallow. Your heart felt like a bird bludgeoning itself against the cage of your ribs, broken and bloody, and you whimpered softly when it blinked.

Turning slowly around, your breath halted completely when you came face-to-face with that of a corpse. There was no way that the thing standing- floating- behind you was human, although it took the shape of one. 

It’s skin was grey and lifeless, flickering with an inner light. It’s eyes were a pupil-less, pure white that glowed in the room’s shadows. It’s clothes, a loose ruffle shirt and thick woolen pants, were tattered and torn. The shredded edges swirled around it as if buoyed by an invisible wind.

For some reason, it seemed oddly familiar.

But most importantly- most horrifyingly- was the dagger sunk deep within its chest, covering the entire front of its shirt with crimson, viscous blood. As you watched, frozen with a mixture of shock and terror, small drops of it dripped onto the floor and landed with a spatter.

It inhaled, the sound rattling in its ruined lungs, before speaking. If you had to liken what its voice was, it was like the whistling of wind through the Hold’s ruined towers; the sound of the tree leaves rustling, the sound of the beeswax candles guttering.

“Hello.”

You shrieked.

The ghost, because that’s what it was, a goddamn ghost- winced, drifting slightly further away. “Ah. That is… not ideal.”

Half-convinced you were about to pass out, you braced yourself on your locker door, curling up like you were considering shoving yourself inside to escape this entire situation. You actually might, if it got any closer.

It raised its bloodstained hands out in front of itself placatingly, grimacing. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked at it, caught in the middle of taking another shuddering breath to scream for help. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

The ghost sighed, which was weird now that you thought about it because it didn’t need to breathe. It smiled awkwardly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was nervous. “... Hopefully?”

“You’re doing a terrible job at convincing me!” you laughed hysterically. You were kind of starting to hyperventilate at this point, and if you didn’t stop you were going to pass out. The ghost seemed to agree.

“You need to calm down.”

You glared at it. “Thanks.”

It hesitated for a moment. “This is… not how I wanted this to go.”

“How else could this have gone?!”

Pausing, it seemed to be thinking for a moment. You took the time to begin to edge out from your spot, angling for the door. If you moved quickly enough, you might be able to make it out of the building with your life intact.

“You have a point,” the ghost mused. Before you could blink, it was right in front of you again, pale lips curving into a grin. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Oh.

You froze, heart leaping into your throat. You realized why it had seemed so familiar, why its appearance had niggled at the back of your brain. The ghost’s visage was a haunting echo of that shown in the same painting you’d seen over and over again for the past few weeks.

The sharpness of its smile, the secretive cast to its face, the way in which it dressed- down to the last detail, you realized. Ghosts are the spirits of the dead, back to walk the earth once more.

“Hello,” Eret Herobrine said, taking your hand in her own. The sensation was weird, to say the least. It was similar to when you would stick your hand out of the car window and feel the wind pushing at it like a physical barrier.

This was like that, but in the shape of a hand.

You shivered as they pressed a chilled kiss to your skin, feeling the curve of their grin like a physical brand.

“Eret,” He murmured, pallid eyes locked on your own. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

@blufr0st​ @itsonlydana​ @amearla​ @bapthadapper​ @redactedsouls​ @sina-the-idiot @icarusthefoolish @blockyshieldmaiden

[yettobedetermined7]

Imagine betraying L’manburg with Eret

[minkyungseokie]

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Alastair better known online as Eret (also known as TheEret), is an English gaming YouTuber known for playing Minecraft on YouTube and Twitch.

Spifey

George "Geo" Anderson better known online as Spifey, is an English Minecraft gaming YouTube channel that shows off older versions of the game. Some of the content on Spifey's channel include listening to certain annoying songs to win money for a long period of time with users of Minecraft on the servers and trolling his friends with cursed Minecraft mods

Skeppy

Zak Ahmed better known online as Skeppy, is an American YouTuber known for his Minecraft challenge videos involving numerous contestants and his collaborations with fellow YouTuber BadBoyHalo.

Quackity

Alexis "Alex" Maldonado better known online as Quackity (formerly QuackityHQ), is a Mexican YouTuber and Twitch streamer known for playing the video game Minecraft and his raid videos.

kennysong

Kenny Song is a famous TikTok star, Instagram star, and food influencer from the US. He shares Asian cuisine and simple meal and snack options. He also posts shorts videos alongside his cooking videos

[unoislazy]

A Dragon Trappers Fate (Part 2)

Eret Son of Eret x Gn! Reader

Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.

Your group of friends, of course excluding Hiccup, flew back in the general direction of Berk. A steady silence hung over all of you as you all had to come to terms with the fact that a war was coming, and a fairly gruesome one at that given the nature of Stoick’s story.

You looked ahead to the woman who naturally led the group, Astrid. You noticed the sour expression she held as she looked out at the landscape before her. Astrid was many things but good at hiding her emotion was not one of them. You lightly gestured your dragon to move up to her, now steadily flying beside her.

“So… you’re not going to listen to him are you?” You asked. She quickly snapped her head towards, surprised by your sudden presence before visibly relaxing a bit.

“Well, what if they get taken? What if Hiccup finds Drago before they can find him?” She asks, turning back to the landscape, very clearly lost in her stressful thoughts.

“Hiccup may be stubborn but so is his father, let's just give them time, don't act too hastily. Besides, it’s Hiccup we’re talking about.” You commented, eventually slightly persuading her to at least relax a slight bit.

“Let’s wait right there, and if they’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m going to look for them.” Astrid stated, guiding Stormfly down to a sizable piece of ice, big enough to hold everyone’s dragons while you all waited.

And so you waited.

And waited.

And… waited.

You watched as Astrid, someone who was usually quite put together, became fidgety and eager to get back out there. There was no doubt she loved that boy, and while you were all worried about his safety, clearly it was hitting her the most.

You almost didn’t understand it.

As far as you were concerned you had only ever experienced a familial kind of love, mainly through your friends and Stoick. He had always served as a sort of father figure over the group. You never really had that connection with anyone like Astrid and Hiccup had, or even the way Ruff, Snotlout and Fishlegs were… you never truly felt that way about anyone.

And as far as you knew, no one felt that way about you.

You couldn’t help but think how nice it must be to be able to find someone that you can not only be vulnerable with but you also want to protect. Good luck finding that in Berk, pretty sure the only Viking okay with seeming vulnerable is Fishlegs, and he gets made fun of for it every time.

It’s a weird thought, wanting to feel loved. Most people relate to the feeling, and strangely enough you felt like you had felt that feeling once before but you couldn’t place where.

You sighed, finally snapping out of your thoughts as you looked back up at Astrid who had just landed after searching the surrounding area for the fourth time in ten minutes.

“I don't like this. They should’ve been back by now.” She says to the group, even though you were almost sure the rest of them were truly too bored to listen.

“Alright then, let's go look for them.” You approved with a nod. Astrid Hofferson of all people did not truly need your approval for anything but you were the one who told her to wait in the first place. Without another word, Astrid took off practically leaving the rest of you behind in her dust.

“Good gods, what does she feed that dragon?” You asked rhetorically. Your dragon was fast but Astrid knew how to get Stormfly to her fastest potential.

“I think she feeds her chicken ‘cause they fly faster.” Tuffnut said which earned a very confused look from you as you turned back to him.

“Chickens can't fly…” You were well aware the twins had their moments of stupidity but it was always like a fresh slap in the face when you realized just how stupid they sounded sometimes.

“Oh yeah… well why do they have wings?” He argued, and honestly you couldn’t really think of a reason to argue back. Chickens are weird.

You shook your head before turning back towards where you could see Astrid a bit of a ways away from you all.

“You’d think she cares more about Hiccup than she does the rest of us.” You joked.

“I know I’d never leave you behind like that.” Snotlout added on, flying beside you to which you responded,

“Spare me.” Before adding distance between you and the short Viking man.

As you continued on, you questioned, how exactly were you meant to find Drago’s army? You had no idea where he could be at this point, Or at any point, you had never seen his army before. That’s when it clicked for you, who else would know where Drago is hiding than the dragon trappers.

Which meant seeing Eret son of Eret yet again.

You knew you weren’t looking forward to this but you’d have to suck it up for Hiccups potential safety.

After some time had passed you could start to see Erets ship in the distance, not in any better shape than it had looked last time. You caught up with Astrid before shouting towards him,

“So… any ideas on how to get him to talk?” You asked, to which Astrid responded with a smirk

“Watch and learn.” She stretched her arms out in front of her, cracking her knuckles as she often did. You waited behind as you watched her quickly dive down and scoop Eret up like it was nothing.

You watched as Stormfly flew back up to your height effortlessly, the man dangling between her claws as if he was nothing more than her latest kill or a scrap of meat. You looked down at the man from before, noticing slight features that you hadn’t really taken into account from before.

As much as you wanted to hate him, you could not deny he was still… very handsome. Oh how you hated admitting that.

You almost felt weak for not being able to control your thoughts or feelings about this Dragon trapper. Maybe you weren’t weak for it, for having emotions is just part of being human, but gods above were you ashamed of them.

The man screamed as he hung onto the dragons foot for dear life.

“What do you want from me?” He shouted desperately, which to be honest, was quite a good look for him. You shook your head at the thought before responding,

“We want you to take us to Drago.”

To that response the man look at you as if you had just sprouted two heads and a dragon tail.

“Help a bunch of dragon riders infiltrate Dragos army? Just kill me now.” He said in a half joking tone, but considering his situation they were definitely not the wisest words to say. Without another thought, Astrid ordered Stormfly to drop Eret which she did in a matter of seconds.

People could say what they wanted about Astrid but no one could deny that she had trained her dragon extremely well. Not like anyone had the balls to make a comment about her anyways.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Astrid asked, turning towards you as she gestured to a still screaming Eret who continued to get closer and closer to the ground.

“With pleasure.” You responded before telling your dragon to go down and fetch him. Coincidentally Eret had just been in the process of caving in, so your timing was impeccable.

Once you had flown back up to the group, Ruffnut was the first to fly towards Eret. She quickly cling to his arm as she begged to take him from you. You only laughed it off, but you couldn’t help but feel… upset about her being so enthusiastic towards him?

Which clearly confused you cause she did nothing wrong.

It felt like it could be described as jealousy but there is no way you’d ever be jealous over a dragon trapper of all people. You merely shook your head of the thoughts before looking down at the man now dangling in the grasp of your dragons claws.

“So Eret, how does it feel to be at the mercy of yet another dragon?” You teased, looking down at the man who simply rolled his eyes at you with a scoff.

“I’d be careful with how you respond, my dragon is now pretty eager to continue playing fetch.” You threatened in a lighthearted manner which didn’t get any verbal response from Eret but he definitely acknowledged the statement with his sudden shift in body language.

“Maybe you should change your profession, dragons seem to love you.” You joked, which finally got Eret to respond.

“And go against Drago Bludvist? No, I value my life, thank you.”

“Okay but say we took Drago out of the equation, would you consider it then?” You asked, genuinely curious in his answer.

“Did you not hear me when I said I’m the ‘finest dragon trapper alive’? I would have that title with or without Drago.” He stated quite arrogantly. He clearly wasn’t trying to impress anyone, just boost his own ego.

“Right well… have you ever actually gotten to know a dragon before?” You couldn’t help but feel like Hiccup with the way you were trying to talk down the situation. Usually Hiccup was the main advocate for switching people to the dragon side, but you couldn’t help but want to try and persuade Eret. Maybe if you could get him to switch sides you’d feel less guilty about your feelings for him. Or maybe there was something deeper that was urging you. Your mind was too muddled to properly discern the true reasoning so you simply just chalked it up to Hiccup rubbing off on you.

“No, and I don’t plan it. How many times do I have to say it, I’m a dragon ‘trapper’ not one of you.” He spat which caused you to scowl slightly.

“Yeah, you’ll eat your words one day.” You stated as if you knew his fate as a fact. You don’t know why but you felt extremely confident in your words.

“Or get eaten, tell me which outcome sounds more plausible?” He asked sarcastically.

So much for trying to win him over. Guess you were really going to have to do the “Hiccup Thing” and just wait to show him somehow.

Little did you know that opportunity would come up a lot sooner than you thought.

Taglist

(Ive never made one before so bear with me if I get it wrong the first few times)

@aiko-oba

[k1ng0fn0b0dy]

may i request eret, quackity, sam and foolish comforting reader? thanks x

Of course! Take care anon xx

Eret

His entire presence is comforting in and of itself. They are just a very good person to be around in general if you need calming down.

Eret has a very natural sort of peace-keeping personality that he'd definitely be very good with angry-sad people.

Her voice is just very soothing and she's got a few breathing exercises memorized.

Eret also has a bunch of extra candy laying around that he's not afraid of using to make you feel better, because you're not you when you're hungry.

That's not to say they're used to it though, they can and will startle pretty easily

As long as they care about you though, she'd still try to help anyways!

Quackity

He pulls a lot of the same tricks my Mexican mother pulls when I'm upset.

Which is essentially talking loudly over you and pretending you're not upset until it works.

Okay, jokes aside Quackity is very awkward around crying people so as long as your liquids are inside of you, he's good to go.

Quackity is very much of the mindset of 'comforting distractions' to take your mind off what's making you upset.

With jokes, stories, or even singing if that helps, though his default is Mexican lullabies (they're super effective, I can personally vouch)

He's also someone who'd set up an entire blanket fort just to platonically cuddle you.

but only because he read somewhere that hugs are supposed to make you feel better (pls don't tell this man otherwise, Quackity couldn't take it, he'd instantly explode and then you'd have to comfort him)

You can't rant to him though, he will have a million and one things to say

Sam

Sam is actually really good at handling people, even upset people

He's sort of just a natural, very empathetic and caring.

Not to say Sam does it very often, but he always tries to be there and let everyone know it

he's just naturally good at reading the room and catering to your needs

Need to eat your feelings? Sam has snacks! Need really shitty romance movies and a good cry? He quite literally has hundreds and tissues, go off.

A bit awkward with physical affection but always willing as long as you don't bully him too much for it

He's also a very good listener if you need to rant, Sam is also very good at giving advice (unless it's romantic, don't ask)

Sam just cares a lot, please do the same for him because he deserves it

Foolish

This man is a mess

Foolish will definitely try his best to comfort you, I can promise you that

Will it work? Probably not, this man sucks at genuine comfort

Unless his fumbling comforts you, in which case: He's amazing!

Does try really hard to be there for you and Foolish will definitely make a million stops at stores looking for your favourite comfort candy

He's the type to look up wiki-hows for comforting people but with his luck, it's a coin toss for making it worse or somehow fixing it

Has his sister and mom on speeddial and WILL rely on them for help in the event that he does, in fact, make it worse by using wiki-how

He does put a lot of effort into trying though so please let him know you appreciate that! (And also don't let Foolish try comforting anyone ever again)

{《☆》}

[Wow, I haven't posted anything for two months. A lots happened, certain things hit me real hard and life is quite possibly peak stressful right now. I'd just like to say that I hope all of you are doing well and taking care of yourselves.]

[I'm currently in the process of switching therapists and things are wack so I'm really sorry that I stopped writing for so long. I am healthy and taking care of myself so no one has to worry. I'd love it if all of you could consider donating to curesaracome.org and continue spreading Techno's memory.]

[That's all for now so take care.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Taglist: @creatorofstars @hiwhatsupbruv

Masterlist

[nerdysleepybunny]

If someone doesn’t write a fic where reader is absolutely WORSHIPPING Eret and is just a total simp for her then I’ll do it MYSELF. 😡

LOOK AT THIS QUEEN. THEY DESERVE TO BE WORSHIPPED AND DROWNED IN AFFECTION AKDJANDNANDMSNNDCJ

Eret is so perfect and ethereal I physically and mentally cannot. 😔💗

[draventhedemon]

A lot of people already have asked for a part 2, so here it is!

Lets hope it lives up to you expectations!

⚠️ There is swearing ⚠️

(2 days before the wedding)

It has been 3 months since the big reveal. And every time me, Clay, Nick or George go live we have been bombarded with questions from chat. And we have always answered it the same

"You don't need to worry, Tommy will vlog it so you get to know what goes down."

So we could continue our streams with less interruptions. And we also have FINALLY found out who Clay's best mans gonna be. And well the options were supposed to be Nick or George but because of the constant arguing... Patches, has been bought a suit and will be the best man.

But enough about the past few months. I gotta tell you about today!

Today I have packed my stuff because I'm gonna be spending the next 2 nights at a Hotel with Eret, my bridesmaids and some friends.

And also Tommy because he wants to vlog

And because of the superstition of no seeing the bride before the wedding. I have been packing. Slowly, because of Clay distracting me with his honeymoon phase already being activated.

"Clay... Stop before this goes to far" I say as his chin nudges even further into the crook of my neck.

"do you haft to go? The tradition is stupid anyway?" He says with a whiny voice while kissing my jawline "the tradition may be stupid but I've already told my friends I was gonna be there in an hour" I respond while moving a bit away from him and kissing his nose while getting up. He whines as he tries to drag me back to the floor "jesus, your acting like a clingy cat" I laugh while I pick up my bag and walk out the bedroom door with Clay following shortly behind me. "do you have your dress?" He asks even though he already knows it's in the hands of Eret and the bridesmaids.

"bye Y/n!" I hear Sapnap say from the living room as George holds Dream back from follow me out the door.

"bye you guys!" I say as I wave goodbye and walk out the door. "There gonna burn the house down" I mumble to myself while getting into the Uber.

"It will be around a 30 minute drive" The Uber driver says while I nod and turn on my favorite song to listen to for the drive.

And when I look up from my phone I see my friends all waiting for me. Which Tommy has brought over Ranboo and Tubbo to keep the vlog interesting.

(A/n in this universe Ranboo and Tubbo still get along)

"The woman has arrived!" Tommy says while holding the camera up to my face "You don't need to scream, I'm right here!" I scream back jokingly as he continues to scream into my ear.

"How did Dream take you leaving?" Eret says while taking my bag from the car and all of us walking inside. "I think he took it well" I say while clearly joking as I look around the hotel lobby. "This is gonna be a fun 2 days" I say as Tommy turns off the camera

(1 day before the wedding)

I have been playing competitive Candyland with the Bench trio for the the last 10 minutes and so far Ranboo is in first, Me in second, Tubbo in third and Tommy in last. "You haft to go back to licorice castle Tommy" I point as he screams "What the fuck!?!" As I move his red character back to the castle. "Why do you keep on going back?" Tubbo says with a laugh as Ranboo pulls a card. "I win!" Ranboo lifts his card up showing that he has landed a red and moves his character to the end.

"What the hell did I just walk into?" Niki says as she walks in with Wilbur shortly behind her. "NIKI!" I scream as I run to her because of her sudden appearance "Did you think I was gonna miss this! I get to be a bridesmaid!" She says as she hugs me. "I'm just gonna slip on through here" Wilbur says while walking in and immediately getting tackled hugged by the three boys that we're just sitting down in the living room. "All my bridesmaids have finally arrived" I say while letting go of Niki.

(the wedding will be the very next thing I write!)

[sagegreen261]

fanart by 에레리 컴퍼니 

he looks so pretty

[daydream-walker]

Could you do an eret x reader where reader dog- naps pog (erets dog) as revenge for for the l’manberg betrayal (taking place right after they got Independence) and they make like a scavenger hunt for his dog? I think that would be fun

Yesss love this so so so much!!!

Scavenger Hunt

Eret x reader

Fluff!

Summary: Eret has to go on a scavenger hunt because Y/N stole their dog as revenge.

(He/Her used for eret and they/them used for Y/N so it won't be too confusing!)

It was a typical day, atleast for Eret herself. She had some time on his hands so he planned to walk Pog for a bit and feed the lovely dog. But when she went looking for her dog she couldn't find the pupper.

He started getting more worried until she sees raindow paw prints leading to his study. This confuses Eret to no ends. No matter what she thought she checked her study to find a book on her desk that he didn't remember puttng there.

She picked the book up and a small piece of paper fell from it. He picked it up and saw something written on it, the handwriting seemed familiar but she couldn't place her finger on it. They read the message 'Would you like a burger before your walk?' That surprise Eret even more. Who knew she was going to walk Pog and did they take the poor dog? What did they mean by if she wanted a burger...

Then it hit him. The Van! She quickly rushed out of her study with her cape flowing behind him and made her way out of the castle to were the van currently stood.

Once Eret got there they find on the windshield of the Van another paper surrounded by more colorful paw prints, only this one bigger. It read:

'You found me! Pog is mine now unless you can find us by sun down! Good luck! Remember when you were in your prime? When you paved the path to our demise?'

He thought about it for a second. Remember back to when he betrayed L'manburg and brought the demise of his friends. It still hurt him. He wondered which one of them was behind this. He has been trying to do his best and make it up to them. Which one of them would steal her dog after all this time since then. The first way to find out is to find them and pog. He went through the note again to see anything that stood out. He noticed only two things connected.

"The prime path..." She mumbled to herself and quickly made her way to the prime path. Half way to tommys house he sees more rainbow paw prints and finds they lead up the prime path and to the side of Tommys house. Tommy thankfully not here at the current time. It would be hard to explain her current predicament to the blonde boy.

On the side of tommys house was a third note. This one read:

'To make your trip short check the place that has a more fire-y personality.'

She mulled over that one. The nether makes it easier to get around and it has fire. Could that be it? Eret believe it was worth a shot and made his way to the big nether portal. Once there another set of paw prints and a piece of paper. This one now read:

'Last one! Return to where this all started. What was never ment to be.'

That one he didn't have to think too hard on. The place it all began was L'manburg. Looking up in the direction Eret could see even through her sunglasses that the sun was getting dangerously low. So she started off to what was left of the old country.

By the time she made it there he was out of breath. He was after all practically running since it was almost sun down. While his head was lowered and hands on her knees still tired from the run he heard a bark and a quiet chuckle.

"Took you long enough." A familiar voice said, not in anger or sarcasm but in mischief and perhaps happiness. Eret looked up to see an old friend...Y/N.

"Y/N...You did this?" Eret asked as they straightened to her full height. Looking at their feet he sees Pogs tail wagging and the dogs adorable eyes looking up at her.

"Yup. Glad you found us. I was thinking I might be taking care of your lovely dog from now on!" They said happily patting Pogs head. Eret let out a small sigh of relief and let a small smile come to his lips.

"So why did you do all this?" Eret questioned. As the question hits Y/N's ears their lips form a thin line.

"Just a little scare and pay back for what happened way back then." They say keeping their eyes on the ground. Eret looked down too. He knew it hurt them when she betrayed them.

"Look I'm sorry for what happened but I genuinely thought what I did was for the good of everyone. You, me, and everyone else." She explains looking at Y/N who keeps their eyes lowered. They say somthing too quiet for Eret to hear and when they look up to see his confusion they say it again.

"I forgive you. I don't want to lose someone so close to me over that." Eret smiled at that and questions "So close to you?" Y/N's eyes widen a bit and look up at Eret. The quick change of expression made Eret smile.

"Well yeah...Your like my closets friend! And well..." Y/N stammered. Eret chuckles and gives them a kiss on the forhead. "Well I'm glad to know I'm forgiven. Come on Pog."

Before they can even understand what just happened Eret starts to walk away with Pog right behind her.

All Eret hears is a "HEY!" As he turns around and gets borderline tackled. Thankfully she keeps his balance and keeps the two from falling.

"You can't just do that!" Y/N says looking up at Eret as Erets smile grows bigger with each passing second. "And why not?" Eret counters.

Before they have anything to come back with Eret gives them another kiss this time on the cheek. They quickly turn red to Erets delight.

"Quit doing that! Or I'll um-" They try to think of somthing to say but fail. "Or you'll fall for me?" Eret says. "WHAT- No. I mean yeah but-Gah! I don't know!" Y/N rambles causing Eret to chuckle.

"Then let's find out! Its getting late lets had to my caslte? There is always a spare room for you there!" Eret offers. With a defeated sigh Y/N walks back with Eret and Pog. To the castle, and not at all unhappily.

Thats the end!<3 I hope you like it! I personally love Eret! Remember you can always request more and/or ask me to fix(or redo) something in the request! Have a lovely day/Night!!!

[sam-winchesters-my-bf55]

IF you’re still taking requests… can i get a Wilbur x Reader? OKAY OKAY. HERES THE SCENE. Wil and the reader are like housemates and stream in different rooms (obv). and Do you remember that time early on in the DSMP when L’manburg was just established how Eret betrayed Wil Tubbo and Tommy?? yeah, okay.. That scene but instead of Eret it’s the reader!!!

anyway, after they betrayed L’manburg, Wilbur instantly logged off, went into their room, and is all like “what the f was that” and just starts acting all hurt and then when they get close and try to ‘apologise’, wilbur like throws them into the nearest couch bed whatever and they start play fighting.. ends in butterflies and kisses:)

you don’t have to write this, i just like the idea of it!!

Aw fuck, I can't believe you've done this

A/n: Hey! Thank you for requesting! I was never too informed on the lore this far back, so sorry I didn't go into detail when talking about what reader did! Ans sorry i kinda strayed away from what you asked for!!!!

It was the biggest lore stream of your whole career. You must have had 500 thousand sommad people watching this stream. It was almost like you could feel their eyes on you. You were going to betray l'manburg. You glanced over at your clock, then at your starting soon screen. It's 5 minutes till the stream starts, nervousness pumped adrenaline through your veins and you forced yourself to take a deep breath. You popped your fingers, and looked at the clock again, three minutes left. It was as if time was dragging along now! Your groaned softly. Once the stream finally begun, you took another deep breath, then you started.

After you ended the stream, you walked into the living room, trying to stretch your back out over the arm of the couch, you really needed to fix your posture.

Wilbur walked into the living room as well and noticed you stretching over the arm of the couch like you usually do when you have back problems. He immediately reached down and begun tickling your stomach a pout on his face, and his tone filled with dramatic sadness. "Darling, mind telling me just why you decided to betray my nation?" A squeal came from your mouth as you burst into giggles, trying to curl up to protect your stomach, but wiggle away at the same time. You spoke through giggles and laughter, softly swatting at his hands "t-that was the plan jackass! N-no, im sorry!" You begun to plead as his tickly assault moved to your sides and ribcage, dancing around and drawing any and all laughter out of you. "I'm just so hurt!" He said dramatically. If you werent laughing at his tickles, you were certaintly laughing at his voice. After a few minutes he stopped, and you sat up, taking a deep breath, leftover giggles pouring out of your mouth.

"Y-your an ass..." "Yeah, but you love me." You smirked at him and then with a funny battle cry, dove at him, play wrestling with him. With a yelp and some giggles he wrestled back, you both fighting for the upper hand with tickles and kisses. After a few minutes, you had him pinned under you, his hands by his head, your fingers intertwined. You begun to pepper his neck and collarbone in ticklish little kisses. He burst into giggles, and tried to scrunch up his neck, going through an endless cycle of srunching one side, then the other, you would just 'attack' the other side of his neck each time he revealed one side.

"Love! No! Eek! Nahahahahaha! Stop it!" He pleaded, kicking his feet softly, and you continued for a few minutes before letting up. You planted two final kisses on his cheeks, and untangled your fingers from his. Almost like clockwork, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and turned the tables, rolling on top of you, pinning you under him. You begun to try and wrestle with him again but it was no use, he had you pinned good. He pinned your palms under his knees, and wiggled his fingers at you before softly digging into your belly and sides, saying: "oh no sweetheart, what ever will you do? "

[herstarburststories]

Imagine you being the first person Soldier Boy goes after when he breaks out (Part 2)

Part 1. Soldier Boy x reader imagine after gif :)

“I missed you.”

Words that unveil the false martyr's marmoreal, simple words that undo his pose, making his masquers dissipate and his altar become just a lonely precipice. They take off his metaphorical cape and leave him naked of anything besides what he is; a person wrapped with just a human skin, begging to be touched tenderly.

Ben is no superhero like this, he's just a man. And Soldier Boy is no soldier like this, he's just a boy.

Therefore, you dare you come closer, to let your rationality in your pocket and touch him gently. Show him that's hands do not only bring violence.

“I missed you so much.”

SMACK.

Answer comes with a muffled noise, your back hitting the wall as a groan leaves your lips. Of course, he just knew how to answer love with brutality. He always fucked like he fought.

Soldier Boy's body is pressed against yours, his hands pinning your arms up your head. He wanted to make you feel surrounded on all sides, like a dear in hunting season. How could he act like this before years a part?! That's now how you fantasied this moment, where is all your sweet heart-lighted moments that delusion sold you?

His eyes emerald eyes hide the most wondrous forests, all that ferociousness and beauty of nature. There are no tears, not a glimpse of a sadness, even though you know that was his company for longer than you or any teammate.

His breathing isn't steady, despite his best efforts to look like he's in control. You can feel his erratic breathing like a new tattoo on your neck, and you bet his heart is racing even quicker.

His mouth darts open, and you close your eyes to enjoy his velvet voice as he speaks: “You betrayed me.”

“What?!” your fury builds up like a forest fire. How dare he to accuse you of that after so much suffering, after crying so many tears you could drown everyone in town with your woe? “Are you fucking crazy?”

He pushed you further against the wall. “You sold me to the Russians, you b—”

You didn't miss a second before placing your leg between his, purposely pressing against his crotch as a silent threat. No matter which time, Ben was always frightening to get his little friend hurt, a fucking slut. This always guarantee you advantage when the argument got heated.

“Open your stupid mouth one more time and call me that, I dare you.” you advised him, feeling his cock got semi-eretic. “Awe, little soldier still gets worked up when a girl tells him to get his head out of his ass, you fucking asshole?”

“Shut the fuck up. you know what I'm talking about!” He punched the spot near your head. You didn't blink, you didn't give him the satisfaction. His fist was closed as he glanced into yours eyes. “I loved you, and you sold me to the reds.”

“You loved to fuck me because I looked young enough to make you look good on tv, and old enough to be legal.” you spitted out. Your twisted relationship with him was always like this: fight and fuck, almost kill each other and suddenly a declaration of endless love. Drafting away just to be put together in no time. You two were a Roma ruin that devote kept building, but that kept falling back into pieces. So beautiful, so aching. A hoax of true love, as anything related to super. “If you loved me, you wouldn't think I betrayed you for fucking Russians. I'm more into English boys.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?” good ol' jealous always kept Soldier Boy on the line. All he ever craved was to thrive as #1 and make a home there. He wanted to be adored, and was terrified of people just deciding not to. Others needed food like he needed attention at all time. “You're mine, Y/N. Don't you joke about that.”

His jaw clenched as you observe him like a caveman does to the stars: marveled, scared, crazy for more. You missed him so much, even his untamed brutality dissipating into passion. It hurt so good when he was like this... You couldn't wait to maim him back.

You wouldn't just sit back and let him do whatever he wanted to you. You would strike back, always. You were trapped in that vicious circle, but you weren't gonna run alone in that hamster's wheel. You both would be the end of each other, simply because every action demanded a reaction. He could attack you all he wanted, but you would come at him back.

Soldier Boy taught you that people always forget how you loved them, but never how you hurt them. That's why you should always hit before you kiss.

“I don't know about that, Ben.” you licked your lips, watching how his eyes followed you. “You haven't fucked me in so long. I don't feel like yours anymore.”

He was quiet, although you could notice his body slightly shaking with all those emotions he was so used to translate to violence, like most boys. You knew Ben wouldn't have ears to the mere truth, so you had to be creative to get him to listen to you.

Problematic. Dangerous. Hurtful. Fun. Crazy. That was your cruel savior, and how being with him felt like.

“I don't fuck traitors.” he howled.

“Do I look Russian to you?” you growled back, moving your knee just enough to stroke his hardness slightly. Soldier Boy shut his eyes, leaning into your touch. “Not to mention that no one is a fuck as good as yours, why would I want to leave that?”

“A good fuck, huh?” he wasn't one to demonstrate a lot, but you knew what his questions endorsed. His remained with his eyes closed, as if he was scared to see your face when you answered.

It was good to know you could make him scared as much as he could to you.

“The best fuck,” you weren't giving in so easily. He started to move his hips, attempting to synchronize with your moves. Soldier Boy was dry humping your leg, thinking about how good it would feel to be inside you again. The best pussy he had ever had... Fuck, he could bet you were wet as a slut for him. He couldn't think straight when you behaved like this. “You know better than your paranoia, asshole.”

Did he? You weren't sure. But your Ben often put his dick before anything else, and you knew that one thing would never change: how much of a weak that false god-like being was towards you. Just as much as you were to him.

“I waited for you.” he stated, making you let out a giggle, not believing for a split of second. He surely had missed fucking you. His hand was still a first next to your head, a coward attempt to refrain you. You let your hand slide towards that toxic symbol, holding his wrist to put fist on your cheek— Ben pressed his knuckles there, his breathing becoming more irregular and he finally glanced into your eyes and.

And.

“Everyday. I waited for you everyday.”

His hands relaxes, no longer a fist: just open, like a man who begs to be given something. Which he was, in more ways than others. Soldier Boy puts his hand plastic on your cheek, stroking you so tenderly, almost like a dream. You can't help the lonely tear that paints your face— was it for the gentleness of the scene or all those by tears you were holding back since he showed up at your door like a madman? There's no right answer, both are blue and both hurt before the relief.

Ben tucks his head into your neck, smelling your fragrance as a soldier who clings back home after a war. And your heart breaks, always breaks when he's in the equation. Either because or for him.

“i waited for you all everyday to save me,” he punches the wall against in frustration, but doesn't pull away, his hops don't stop moving. He was always better talking about emotions this way. “They never came. You never came... I could understand them, but you? You were thenlove of my life, you were my war.”

“I still am, Soldier Boy,” you take his hand, sliding it on your skin, following a path that you know he's hungry for. His hand slides into your panties, and he places a kiss on your neck. “See how wet I am for you? I could never betray you.”

He scoffs, “You always get horny when you're scared, Y/N. That's why we always fucked after...”

“I didn't know you were alive.” You put it into words, because you knew he wouldn't stop his neuroses before you did. Two sneaky fingers slide inside you as his thumb presses to your clit and you want to scream, even though he's just starting. That's the touch you've craved for decades, those warm hands dirty with your wetness are where you'd die someday. “I would've come to you. I'd have killed anyone who stood in my way for you. If I knew you were alive, honey. I'd do anything for you.”

He raises his head, eyes locked with yours as he says:

“I... I missed you too.”

Nietzsche said that you should be careful when loving a monster, or else you could become just like him. Perhaps he was right, you certainly see more of a scorpion than s butterfly in you since you fell in love — and this is the actual fall, not the ross-colored version that most people go through. That's a fall with a crash and broken bones that never heal, so you never leave the place you tripped and plopped on, better call it love than see it for what it truly is, codependency or a disease whatever. Love reads better on the headlines, just like Starlander, which was still on the television just a couple steps away.

So yes, he was right about loving monster and becoming a little too much as them. Still, you also turn them like you. When you love a monster, you keep a little of monster inside your chest. Yet, when a monster loves you... When you love a monster like this, you can make him a little human too. Or so you like to believe.

Did you like it? Comment and reblog! It helps me to know you want more The Boys content. Taglist on reblog.

[moriiartist]

I know it’s not October anymore but…

Ghost Eret, I love them. Please make more! Maybe like reader gets stuck on the chandelier in the castle somehow and Eret is just like “How tf did yo- know what never mind I’m getting you down”

There's not a whole lot you can blame for ending up in this... situation.

Your breath wheezed in and out of your lungs as you clung to the chandelier like an over-excited spider monkey, limbs awkwardly bent to accommodate the sweeping brocade . The ground swayed beneath you, a dizzying ten feet from where you clung for dear life. It was only by some freak stroke of luck that the candles weren't lit, or else you'd no doubt be having a much, much worse time.

Though, that isn't to say that you were exactly having fun right now.

"What in..."

You attempted a smile as you shifted awkwardly to look over your shoulder, though it was likely more of a grimace than anything else. "Hi, Eret."

The specter floated a pace away, milky white eyes blown wide. Their eyelashes flickered sporadically- the only hint you got that they were looking you over, what with their lack of pupils- and their mouth was parted in shock.

If you weren't in imminent peril, you would've found it funny. Imagine- frightening a ghost, when it was supposed to be the other way around.

"What happened?"

Shifting, you bit back a curse as the metal beneath you swayed. The chain that kept the fixture bolted to the ceiling groaned ominously. You chanced a nervous glance, tightening your grip until your hands felt bloodless.

"I could not tell you if I tried."

"I-" she started, then stopped. Sighed gustily, prompting the lighting in the room to flicker. "Alright. I don't think I want to know."

You grinned shakily. "Probably not. Now, d'you think you could let me down?"

"Of course," he murmured, drifting closer with a swirl of his robes. His touch was surprisingly solid (albeit chilling) as he hoisted you up into semi-translucent arms. You grimaced again as you felt lukewarm drops of blood drip onto your shirt.

That would be a pain to scrub out later, though at this point you'd gotten disconcertingly good at it.

Right as you'd settled into their grasp, you paused, finally registering the type of hold they had on your body.

"Really? The bridal carry?"

She winked. "Whatever else so fitting for a damsel in distress?"

(I don't have a whole lot of time to write a full one-shot right now, so please take this crumb!)

[vivisandg]

Hi so I rarely request anything but I’ve fallen back into the httyd rabbit hole again and the lack of eret son of eret content on here is criminal. I came across your eret x pregnant reader and OH. MY. HEART... it’s beautiful! I was wondering if you could write some fluffy Eret x reader who is a dragon nurse? Like a vet for dragons who’s really gentle and compassionate but takes some time to trust him because of the whole ex trapper thing? Thanks and hope you’re enjoying your day and staying hydrated :)

Love thank you sooo much! And yes, I’m trying to stay hydrated, so all of YOU🫵 get some water and drink it RIGHT NOW. Anyways, this is a really good ask and the lack of eret content is, in fact, criminal. I will try my best on this, feel free to criticize and ask for more!

Healing takes Time

Pairing: Eret son of Eret x (g.n/fem)reader

Summary: As a healer for Berk’s dragons, you meet a lot of new dragons in different situations… but nothing prepared you for a certain ex-trapper asking for your help.

     You are one of Berk’s best dragon healers, spending almost 24/7 in the “dragon infirmary” as most call it. To you, it was home. You had been doing this job since Berk made peace with the creatures that you grew to find beautiful, feeling they needed to be treated as equals. You had always loved to help people and were known as one of the kindest Vikings in the archipelago.

     Of course, when the evil Drago Bludvist came about and practically demolished your home, you had a change of heart. You became a bit colder to newcomers and strangers, a bit, but a noticeable bit. After Hiccup and Toothless had successfully taken the madman down, it came as a shock to no one that many dragons needed healing and care for a while.

     One day, as you were releasing a Snafflefang named Muds back to his family, you were greeted by a slightly beat up Skullcrusher with none other than Eret son of Eret, the famous ex-dragon trapper at his side with concern painting his face. It dimmed your heart to see the tall man and not Stoick, the only father figure you ever had, at Skullcrusher’s side, but you would have to get used to it. You had always been skittish around the young Viking, as his tribe killed your dragon before your eyes. You weren’t sure if Eret was there when it happened, you didn’t care, all you saw was your beautiful Raincutter, Sinkah, get beheaded and thrown into the boat next to her.

     It was time to stop thinking about that and face the problem in front of you. “What brings you and Skullcrusher in, Son of Eret?” You ask with more malice than you meant. “He flew through a good 7 trees while finding boulders to rebuild, tore the beast up, they did.” You pursed you lips a bit when he said ‘beast’, but that’s the only way to describe the dragon. “He looks like he got scratched a bit, I’ll have him out of here in about and hour,” you say while examining the slashes on his green wings. “Alright. Thank you, (y/n),” Eret says as he starts to walk away.

     To your surprise, he turns back around and asks you “is there anything that I can help you with? Finding herbs or stuff to help?” This takes you aback, as you expected him to be arrogant, as he seems all the time. You look at him questionably as you ponder why he asks. “If you could get me a few perch from the lake in the east side of the island, that would be great,” you say as both you and Skullcrusher were hungry. Eret says nothing, but nods as he hurries away. That was a bit odd, you thought.

     Eret gets back in a good 30 minutes with a basket of perch, just as you had asked him. You watch as he returns, putting the last few bandages on Skullcrusher, and heading towards him. “Thank you,” you say with sincerity, as you hadn’t eaten in about 5 hours. “No problem, thanks for helping Skullcrusher,” he says back. He then asks a question you weren’t expecting: “ Do you hate me or something?”

     You are taken aback, again, by him. “Why?” You ask this because you don’t even know. “You glare at me every time you see me, specifically the markings on my chin because that’s about as high as your eyes can reach,” he says blankly. “If you must know, your tribe killed my dragon in front of me and threw her into a nearby boat and dumped me into the ocean,” you say, frowning at the memory. Eret looks appalled, he had seen those men that day, sure he was younger, but he saw how heartbroken you looked. He had sabotaged those men’s work so that Drago punished them; he never saw those men again.

     Telling you this, you realized why he always looked at you like you were familiar, why he looked at you with a look of ‘I will protect you’, rather than sympathy. Finally, shocking Eret, you hug him and mutter a thousand ‘sorry’s. He hugs back and says it’s ok. Maybe you can heal dragons in an hour, but for people, healing takes time.

That’s it for this request. Again, wonderful ask, I wrote this in 2 hours💀😭 bc I loved it soo much. Again also, feel free to request stuff in my ask box, have a good day!❤️

[lanaxoxoxoxoxox]

Hi, Sugar! I was curious if I could request some Eret or Wilbur Soot with a jealous/needy reader? Like Reader is at the mall with Eret or Wil and Reader notices a girl looking at one of them for too long, therefore causing Reader to get more clingy and even a bit jealous. It can be long or short, I don't mind!

Take your time with it, don't worry about rushing!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

, only mine !

cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

warnings: holy shit will is really hot in this one

a/n: as soon as i saw this ask, i instantly had a million ideas and lines and scenarios to add to this request !! thank u sm anon dearie &lt;3

The girl in front of Wilbur and I was really pretty. And the fact she was only a fan as well, and had Wilbur looking into her eyes more and more was making me want to throw up.

Wilbur had caught the fangirl looking at us and sneaking peeks multiple times, so he decided he should probably go up to the fan. I wanted to disagree with Wilbur and just stay where we were, but I knew he loved connecting with his audience and fans in real life, so I didn't want to ruin this for him.

The fan had lustrous and long brunette hair and these pale blue eyes that looked like the clearest of waters. She had perfect, pearly teeth that wanted me to pick my teeth to make sure I didn't have any bits of lunch stuck in the gaps. Everything about her made me want to crawl into a hole.

I looped my arm around Wilbur's arm and the tall man looked down at me for a split second before continuing to talk about music to the fan. I crossed my legs and softly cleared my throat in order to attempt to give Wilbur another hint. Wilbur looked down at me and I gave him a small look, small enough for the fan to not notice and he nodded.

"It was really nice talking to you, Eliza," Wilbur spoke. Oh great, he knew her name. "But Y/n and I must get going now." he finished.

We said our goodbyes, and started to head the opposite way of the girl. I sighed to myself in relief and I looked down at the dirty, tile mall floor beneath my feet as we walked.

"I love it when you get jealous, darling." Wilbur said.

I looked up at him in confusion and turned my head to the side. Wilbur grabbed my chin and pulled me in for a sweet, passionate kiss. "Only mine."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

not proofread!!

hope u enjoyed anon!! sorry this was written so late :')

[disturbed-and-depressed]

Nightmare

C!Wilbur Soot x Sally (romantic), Salbur x FEM!CHILD!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Wilbur blowing up L’manberg, nightmares, crying

[Requested]

“What are you doing?”

Wilbur froze in place at the sound of a voice. Specifically the voice of someone he raised. Someone Fundy grew up with. His daughter. “Y/n.”

Y/n stepped inside the small stone room. She noticed all the signs inside, but her focus was on Wilbur Soot and the button that was placed on a wall in the room.

Wilbur gulped. “Okay, I will admit…Do you know what this button is?”

“Yes.” Y/n had crossed her arms and stared at her father. “I do.”

“Have you heard the song on the walls, have you?” Wilbur glanced at them. “There was a special place where men could go but it’s not there anymore.”

“It is there.” She stopped Wilbur from continuing. “You’ve won it back, dad.” She glanced at her communicator and saw everyone spamming her name, specifically her little brother, but she paid no attention. 

Y/n jumped in surprise as Wilbur yelled in frustration. “I’m always so close to pushing this button Y/n! I have been here like 7 or 8 times.” He covered the way that Y/n had walked in from, so now it was solely just the two of them. “They’re fighting.”

Y/n could hear the fireworks that came from outside. Even if they were muffled, it gave her a weird sense of security. Probably reminding her that as long as they were going off, it still meant people were alive. “You want to just blow it all up?”

Wilbur took a deep breath. “I do.”

“But dad, we fought so hard to get this place back…” Y/n quietly trailed off, trying to ignore what was really happening, her father was crazy. He wasn’t the man he used to be. 

“I don’t even know if the button works anymore Y/n. I could press it…”

“There is a lot of TNT connected to that button right?” Y/n slowly came to the realization that Wilbur was crazy. He was officially crazy and there was no way she or anyone could bring him back.

“Y/n…There was a saying… By a traitor, once part of L’manberg. You of course know Eret.”

“Yeah.” Y/n whispered.

“It was never meant to be.”

Horror spread across the young girl’s face as she watched Wilbur move his hand and press the button. “NO!” She screamed. Y/n grabbed Wilbur’s arm and with enough force, she was about to pull him back so he wouldn’t be harmed by the explosions that rang in the air.

“Dad!” Y/n moved closer to the edge that now showcased the country that was destroyed. She saw a few citizens standing there staring in disbelief that their beloved home was destroyed. 

She didn’t get to do anything as her attention was pulled back by her father, who was breathing heavily. “My L’manberg Y/n! My unfinished symphony! Forever unfinished! If I can’t have this, no one can.”

Y/n blinked trying to get rid of her tears.

Wilbur grinned and it came more manic-like and he grasped his young daughter’s shoulder, spinning her around to face him. “Kill me! Y/n, kill me! Look, they all want you to.”

She looked back and noticed the crowd was bigger than before. “No I can’t. You’re my dad!”

Wilbur’s smile faded and he soon became angry. He narrowed his eyes and began trying to pull Y/n while she fought back against him. Neither of them realized how close to the edge they were until Y/n slipped, pulling Wilbur with her.

Y/n could feel her heart beating and the wind rushing past her ears. The last thing she heard before she hit the ground was yelling and calling of her name.

Then it all went black.

Y/n gasped for breath as she immediately sat up in her bed, her eyes shooting open. She brought her hands to her face in a panic, yet when she checked, there were no marks on her skin. No ash or soot or debris. She was alive.

Y/n’s head turned towards the door when it flung open. Standing there was her mother, Sally. Movement from behind her mother caught her eyes, and she saw it was her father, Wilbur Soot.

Y/n did the only thing she felt she could do at the moment. She began crying. What else was she supposed to do? She had never had a dream like that for as long as she remembered, most likely because dreams were kinda rare for her to have.

She felt herself being embraced by arms and pulled into someone’s chest. The scent of cinnamon and orange fill her senses. It was her mom who pulled her daughter into her arms.

Sally gently shushed her daughter, rocking her back and forth, trying to calm her kind down. She couldn’t recall seeing her beloved child like this. For as long as she remembered, Y/n had never cried, only really letting tears fall when her brother was hurt. It does sorta make sense, since Y/n vowed to protect her little brother no matter what.

Wilbur quietly moved forward, sitting down on the plush bed, slowly moving closer and bringing his warm hand onto Y/n’s head, lightly petting her hair.

A few minutes later, Y/n’s wails and sobs had tuned down to a small sniffle here and there. Wilbur had left and come back with a tired Fundy and steaming tea, setting the orange haired boy down next to his sister, and placing the hot mug on the nightstand beside the bed.

Sally kept running her fingers through the h/c haired girl’s hair. “Do you wanna tell us what happened in your dream?”

Y/n debated on whether she should tell them, but ultimately decided to just go with a blunter approach, and beg. “Please don’t leave dad.”

Wilbur’s eyes focused on his daughter, slightly confused. “What?”

Y/n cleared her throat and spoke up a little louder. “Please don't…don’t leave and start that nation you talked about with uncle Tommy.” She brought her head up and looked her father in the eyes. “I’m not being dramatic, I don’t want you to leave, stay with us.” Tears slowly started building up in the young girl’s orbs once more.

Wilbur and Sally shared a discreet look. Wilbur was set to leave tomorrow. Should he lie and tell his daughter he won’t go, but leave when she falls asleep, or comply with the wishes and stay with his loving family. Wilbur glanced at the clock in the room. It was 2 in the morning, everyone could get some sleep and then talk about it in the morning.

“Alright.” The brown haired man heaved out. “I’ll stay, and we can talk in the morning when everyone gets some sleep. I’ll call over grandpa and Tommy and Techno. Does that sound good?”

Y/n was desperate, so she would take what she could get on such a short notice. She nodded and slipped under the covers more. “Can you guys stay with us?”

Without a complaint the married couple turned out the lights and joined the warm bed.

Everyone was still pretty tired so sleep came easy, but the one question on the parents’ mind was simple.

‘What did Y/n dream about?’