Fundy - Blog Posts
yoooo tumblr take some of my lovely ms paint mouse drawings!!
Cheems Fundy and Cat Maid Hbomb my beloved lol
Dear stans,
If you knowingly step over your favorite content creators boundaries, you’re not a fan of them. If you like them, you’d respect them.
❤ Darling~
Request by (@) itsnotfire on Wattpad : "Could we get a part two of this where the reader does test Fundy's loyalty please? Also your work is absolutely amazing!" PART 1
[1800 words]
[They/Them pronouns]
Description: Your cute little hero's been homesick. As some quick fun you let him return home for a day :). (Fundy x M!Reader) This is unhealthy. So many things in this relationship are MEANT to be unhealthy. Do not glorify/romanticize these things because they are toxic and illegal.
[Read the rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
It starts like all good things, with a bang.
Fundy's cooking for you, a hobby he's taken up as weeks with nothing to do have passed by. You can smell it from the study, the lining of cow's blood he mixed in the soup just for you. Fundy's part fox, which means he enjoys raw meat just as much as you, but he's never enjoyed human blood as much as you do. It's sweet for him to add some in, even if it's cows blood.
You're filing down more paperwork, seems some vigilante named Monarch has been raiding your warehouses looking for something or... You chance a glance towards the photo on your desk, a high-quality one of you and Fundy in your background having a picnic. He was laughing when it was taken, beautiful brown eyes pressed closed, cheeks slightly red. You loathed admitting you had gotten a tad attached to the little fox but the thought of someone coming looking for him had your blood boiling.
Then, as you almost snapped your pen in half, a loud bang came from the kitchen alongside a sharp yelp from Fundy. You rushed forward, slightly breathless as you whirled into the kitchen only to find Fundy tearing up, shaking on the floor as boiling soup soaks his clothes.
He looks up at you, shaky lips pressed together to hold sobs in. Without any hesitation he rushes for you, throwing himself into your chest to sob. The soup is a mess on the floor, steam rolling off it and you grimace. You peel him away from you, looking at the mess he's made of himself.
"Oh darling," You coo, reaching up to cup his face. "You're filthy. I bet it hurts, doesn't it."
Fundy nods, sniffling. "I didn't mean to drop it, I swear. It was just so hot and..." he sniffles, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, shh shh, look at me." You wiped tears and soup off his face. "Go run a shower and I'll get someone to pick this up and meet you there."
"Okay," he muttered softly. Glancing back at you, he leaves slowly.
You sigh, turning to the kitchen. It's a burden to pick up yourself so you'll just call someone to do it for you. As you call for a helper, you think back to Fundy's distant behavior. He's been zoning off far more lately and while he's always quick to fix anything he does wrong, today he's... sensitive.
You don't stand around long. After you call them, you're already making quick strides to catch up to Fundy. As you open the door, you catch the sniffling over the pouring of the bath.
Fundy looks over, stripped sown to just his boxers, which miraculously look barely touched. He does brighten up a bit when you enter but it's still diluted in the melancholy.
You strip to your undergarments too, sitting in the large tub with Fundy gladly between your legs, back to your chest. Your little fox greatly enjoys being held, even now that somethings bothering him he's all over you, head tipped back to rest on your shoulder.
"What's wrong darling," You ask gently, pressing soft kisses to his jawline. "You're acting more distant than usual."
"It's nothing just..." He bites his lower lip and looks away with a sigh. "I miss home."
You try to ignore the tension in his body as he asks. It's so off-putting when he gets scared of you. You sigh, thinking back to Monarch's recent break-in to one of your warehouses, trying to find information on Fundy, rightfully assuming you had something to do with it. Maybe... maybe he could visit home.
"If you miss them that badly, you could visit." You suggest casually, though you know the suggestion is anything but to him.
"Really!" Fundy turns, water sloshing out of the tub. He throws his arms around you, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!"
{《☆》}
"You're not coming along," Fundy asks again, biting his lip.
"I'll be there the entire time, just not by your side." You assure him, reaching up to brush hair from his eyes. He smiles widely at you, relaxing back at your words. He offers his arm to you one more time before you leave. "Not right now, darling. Can't have you looking less than perfect for your family."
Fundy pouts but obeys as obediently as always. You fix his shirt, making sure the hem isn't too roughed up. It's an old shirt but you can't just dress a missing person in a suit and send him back. He has to look somewhat hazardous. As you hold your hand at his collarbone, pressing against it lightly, he tries to smile. "I'll miss you."
"I know you will, darling." You smile, pulling your hand away. Fundy chases it for a second before swaying back in place, stock still just for you. "Now, I can't drop you off but if you ever need me just say the word. I have people ready to teleport us out."
"Y/N..." Fundy hesitates. "How long do I have with them?"
"All day if you're good." You smiled as Fundy squared his shoulders. "Now, let's go before someone wakes up."
You walk Fundy down an empty road, face covered with an cracked obsidian mask, molten gold filling the cracks. He seems anxious as you walk, hand curled into yours. You stop a few blocks before Fundy's previous residence as a precaution, bringing his hand up for a brief kiss before disappearing into the shadows.
The fox turns toward the street that will guide him home, firey red eyes glimmering in the artificial street light. He takes a step forward, and then another. He starts running, hair mused by the wind, feet carrying him faster as his neglected powers crackle with eagerness. As eager to be used again as Fundy was.
You follow behind casually because you already know where he's running. When you catch up, Fundys gasping lightly, hands on his knees as he stares at his old home with wonder. When he gets his breathe back he reaches forward, hands brushing the redwood door adoringly.
After a seconds hesitation and a glance back for you, he knocks. And then knocks faster. There is a distant voice you can hear yelling but Fundy doesn't stop.
"What!" They yell before the sight in front of their eyes catches up to their brain. They reel backwards, hands reaching to hold their mouth. "Fundy...?"
"Dad," he answers back, voice just as wet. He reaches forward and Wilbur wraps his arms around him and lifts him up, breathless. "Dad! Dad, put me down!"
"Where were you," Wilbur says when he puts him down, voice still shocked as he holds Fundy's face between his hands. He can't quite seem to help himself from pulling Fundy back into his arms.
"Nowhere important, Dad," Fundy mumbles into his father's shoulder. You feel something twist uncomfortably in your stomach as you stare at the reunion but it's easy to ignore. "I don't really want to talk about it. Can we just... watch a few movies? We could have that pizza from down the block?"
"Fundy you hate that place," Wilbur says with a small frown, he smoothes it out easily when Fundy just tilts forward with a sigh. "Alright. I'll call them and we can watch Treasure Planet. How'd that feel bud?"
"I'd love that," Fundy says, more relaxed than you've ever seen him. "I really, really would."
The night goes off without a hitch. Wilbur seemed tense but he always let Fundy lie to him and pretend it was nothing. They sit around and eat really cheesy pizza and watch the same movie twice before just talking for another 3 hours. They eat the leftovers of the pizza and Wilbur makes sure to remind Fundy every 5 minutes that he loves him.
When Fundy took a step out the front door, face nostalgic and sad, Wilbur took it in stride. He sweeps Fundy into one last hug, shoulders shaking with repressed tears. When he pulls away, he sets a gentle kiss on Fundy's forehead and says one last time, "I love you."
And Fundy smiles, that sweet and gentle one you had grown to adore, "I know, Dad. I love you too."
He steps away, pausing for a moment like he's rethinking something. With a small shake of his head, he lets go of the hesitation and leaves. You wait, staring right at Wilbur- Willow, you realize now, and his face splits into a soft sob as he falls to his knees.
You turn to follow after Fundy and don't looks back.
{《☆》}
Fundy has been in a higher spirits after his visit home. He seems lighter now that he's been reassured they're okay. It's not really insulting that he thinks you'd hurt them, you've had far worse assumptions made about you. Your mother had thought you the antichrist and tried murdering you as a young toddler, so at least this one was believeable and didn't result in a lifelong scar.
He seemed normal, pressing kisses to your bloody hands when you returned from work, bleeding for you, tracing your claims on his body like he wanted to brand them into his skin. But you never quite managed to get rid of the memory of his willing departure. You had started this with adrenaline coursing your veins, joyful at how much work Fundy was to break, ravishing yourself in his unique blood. Now though, it felt different. There was no game to play now that you knew he was loyal to you, utterly and completely yours.
You flicked through papers from your henchmen who were only reporting minor issues, homeless people breaking into warehouses or vigilantes sniffing around. Ugh, even they had started producing higher numbers. You were undoubtedly the strongest villain in the city and yet— You were incomplete.
"Darling," You call out, lips quirked up as eager footsteps come racing. Fundy waits patiently by the door for you to say something, anything at all. You rack your finger against the desk, nodding him over. As he settles on your lap, hands on your shoulder silently, something feels wrong.
You look back at your desk, staring at the picture of a homeless kid. Their thin white hair is disheveled as they struggled against two of your workers. Their pale blue eyes glare up at the camera, mouth foaming as he likely screams at the worker holding it. He was apparently a homeless kid with an unusually strong superpower who had broken in for a night's rest. You tilt your head at the photo for a second.
Maybe...
You look into Fundy's eyes, a sharp-toothed grin on your face. "How'd you feel about adopting a kid?"
{《☆》}
[Bro this request is from like 3 months ago ;-; I'm so behind on requests. FYI, the next request is for a third (and final part) of the King Eret works and then after that is another Eret request for a sequel to Sweet Summer Sun. If you're a first time reader who doesn't know what the fuck those are, go to the Eret section and have fun!]
[Anyways I'm going to go start that and then I'm going to rewatch Doukyuusei (this really cute mxm story and it's just ahfkahgk!!!) Take care of yourself, you are loved and appreciated and there are things and people and stories waiting for you that you don't even know exist yet so hold on until you get to meet them and then let them help pull you up.]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars
❤ Bad Boy (Cute Boy)
Request by @ -KIYOORIN on Wattpad: "Wilbur x male reader but highschool au, where wilbur has a crush on reader and he is trying to asked out reader to go to the prom with him."
[2069 words :3]
[He/him]
Description: Wilbur is a hopeless romantic and Tommy likes to eat dirt. (Wilbur x MReader)
[Read the rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
Wilbur picks at the dirt under his fingers as he sits through math class. His math teacher doesn't try to get him not to, even though he's the weird type. Tries too hard, acts too odd, calls tests 'festivals of learning'. Honestly, he kind of regrets doing this exchange program just because of that.
Well, not really. Wilbur likes this odd school, even if it's kinda fucked up. It has good music programs and he has a lot of good friends, a surprising amount of them British as well. And well... he maybe, sort of, kind of but not really, has a crush.
Wilburs face flushes just thinking about it. He ducks his head lower and picks his pencil up to pretend he's doing his work instead of daydreaming.
He glances over at you, doodling something one the margins of your math book with a small smile you probably didn't even realize you had. Wilbur sighed deeply, unable to look away as you fiddled with the pencil, almost dropping it. God, he thought you were gorgeous.
You looked up briefly and Wilbur panicked and snapped his head back down. He waited a few minutes, actually starting his math problems before he chanced a glance up. You were back to drawing and he relaxed with a relieved sigh. And then you looked back up again.
{《☆》}
Wilbur didn't know which God he had to thank that day but you didn't seem weirded out. In fact, you smiled at him in the hall earlier and almost made him have a heart attack. Wilbur hid his blushing face in his hands for a second, ignoring the conversation Fundy and Eret were having next to him.
"Are you good, Wil?" Niki asked, her lunch laid out neatly in front of her. She brushed her hand over his shoulder. "You look kind of red."
"I'm fine," he squeaked out, patting her hand before trying to shake it off. "Sorry, I'm good."
"He's having a breakdown because (Y/N) smiled at him earlier," Technoblade, the prick, says with no hint of remorse.
Wilbur scowls at him, kicking his leg under the table. "Shut it."
"Aww," Fundy coos mockingly, with a faked high-pitch British accent. "The fish fucker is in love."
"Not you too," Wilbur groans, flicking a bit of corn at the ginger.
"I think it's sweet how much you like him," Eret said, the only one Wilbur respected anymore. He picked up a piece of celery and talked while he chewed, "Even if it's just made you a bigger simp."
"I'm leaving," Wilbur says with a scowl, picking up his tray. He doesn't usually eat much during lunch anyways but the conversation made him lose the rest of his appetite. But, of course, the universe hated him.
Wilbur slammed into someone, sending corn all over himself, ruining his freshly washed navy jumper. "Just great, can you–,"
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," You said, reeling back. Your own lunch was tipped over the try, pouring out but somehow managing not to stain your clothes. "I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, you're good" He managed to say through a strangled throat. He set the empty tray on an empty table and started brushing corn off of his sweater, which stuck to it with a grudge.
"Here," You said, coming back when Wilbur didn't even notice you left. In your hand was a bunch of clumped up napkins that you very quickly shoved in his hands, shifting feet nervously. After a second of Wilbur rubbing corn off of his sweater, your face falls when you realize just how stained it was. "Oh no, your sweater. I ruined it."
"It's okay, I was- I was going to donate it anyway," He fumbled over his words, lying because, well, you were you. Grimacing a bit, he powered through. "It's not the best thing to wear for the rest of the day but it'll make do."
You seemed dejected either way. "I can go put your tray back for you?"
"You're fine, really. It was an accident," Wilbur assured you it was, dropping the messy napkins on his tray. Patting his sweater and grimacing at the way it was still wet. "I'll just go,"
"Wait," You blurted out, hands raised in a minor panic. A sudden thought rang in your brain and you quickly reached for your backpack. In your hands was a plain yellow sweater, one that looked (way too big/perfect/a bit small) for your size and something that would fit Wilbur well enough to last the day. "I had a backup sweater in my backpack and since I kinda ruined yours, I think it's only fair you use it."
Wilbur hesitated, shaking his head. "No it's fine, really."
"Please," You practically begged, giving Wilbur the sweetest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. "I feel so bad. It's no trouble."
"Alright," He muttered, ducking his head but unable to hide the bright pink flush that spread across his face. He pulls the navy jumper off, careful not the touch the wet spot to his face.
You were looking away (if pale: face flushed), obviously embarrassed. Wilbur quickly realized that the shirt he wore under the jumper had ridden up, pulling it down sheepishly. Taking the sweater, he ran his hand down the soft cotton fabric. "Thanks."
"No problem," You shook your head, looking back at him. Shooting him a smile, you finally stepped back and let him walk to put his tray away.
Wilbur was left in such a daze, he hardly even registered the teasing his friends gave him when he sat back down.
{《☆》}
Prom was coming up and Wilbur had totally forgotten. He sat at his desk, staring at the pair of tickets his friend had given him on a whim, saying something had come up but that he should still enjoy prom with his boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Because yeah, people have started being under the assumption that Wilbur had manned up and asked you out. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Wilbur groaned, hands wrapping tight around the yellow sweater he was still wearing, still had. He had tried giving it back once but the teacher had decided that day was going to be their first-ever pop quiz and he had to sit back down.
He had worn it yesterday, fiddling with the nice sleeves that wrapped around his wrist loosely enough to pinch the fabric under and twist it. But something about realizing the weight of the next week, the last week he had until prom came and he'd be forced to go alone.
Wilbur was screwed. He had a week to ask you out, likely get rejected, and then spend the night at prom depressed while his friends had fun. Just the idea of going made him queasy.
His door was knocked on rapidly. "Wilby! Wil! Wil! Open the door!" Tommy screeched from the other side, waiting for permission before he jumped onto Wilbur's bed.
"You can come in," He said, moving to sweep the tickets into a drawer, hand still caught tight on the sweater.
"Wilby!" Tommy says, clambering in with his blankie trailing behind him, the cow plush Wilur had bought him held tightly in his little fist. "I did the big tree thing. I went to Tubbo's house and he has such a big tree and I know that you and baba climb the tr-un-k so I had Tubbo help me, because it's so tall! And he did! And I got to hold the small tree and there was this bug and-!"
"Tommy, why aren't you playing with Phil," Wilbur asked, turning away from his desk to open his arms wide at Tommy. His baby brother leaped off the bed, landing in his arms and giggling.
"Phil was being mean again," Tommy pouted, curled into Wilburs chest. "He told me to go play with you instead."
He frowned, but then smoothed it out. "Thank you for telling me, Tommy. And thank you for following the rules and knocking."
"I'm very smart, aren't I Wilby!" Tommy giggled again, kicking his feet out. Wilbur bounced his knee a bit, nodding. "When is Baba getting home. He said I couldn't play with his sword until he gets here and I'm bored."
"He's still at work, Toms, but how about we go play outside instead." Wilbur smiled down at the 8-year-old, pinching Tommy's button nose between his fingers.
"Okay Wilby!" Tommy said, dragging the teen with him. Wilbur didn't know how lucky he had to have been to get an exchange home that'd give him his own brother.
Tommy set down Henry neatly next to him before he started digging his fingers into the dirt. Wilbur picked up his blankie and made extra sure it was safe from dirt on the seat he laid it on. He sat down by Tommy, pulling his arms away whenever he tried to eat dirt.
"Oh, it's you," A pleasent voice said from not so far away. Wilbur looks up and sees you standing there, holding a leash tightly, a dog standing by your legs. "I didn't know you lived here."
"I'm part of an exchange program, the Minecrafts are my host family," Wilbur said, rushing to stand. Tommy, ever the loud mouth around family, is tucked behind his leg, bright gold curls barely peeking out. You take a small step closer and Wilbur's face starts turning red. "Uh, this is Tommy."
"Hello Tommy," You say, kneeling to be on even ground. The blond mutters a small "hi", still clutching Wilbur's pants but shuffled more into view. You stick your hand out, wearing the prettiest smile Wilbur has ever seen. "It's lovely to meet you."
Tommy's hands look so tiny in yours but he seems so happy to be doing something familiar. Phil's had him do similar around his buisness friends. Predictably, your dog rounds your legs, nudging Tommy. He giggles, gasping with an infatuation with animals in the way only Tommy could have.
"That's Kujo, he's really friendly," You say and Tommy turns to you, eyes turning into melted clouds.
"Can I play with him? Please," He asks, bottom lip jutted out into a plead. Wilburs heart softens and you melt at the sight of his little brother. You carefully hand him the leash, saying that Kujo knows better than to run but if he does try, it's okay if he let's go. When Tommy heads off, ever so gentle with guiding Kujo, you stand and smile at him.
"Is your sweater okay?" You ask out of the blue. Wilbur glances down at what he's wearing before processing the words.
Face flushed, he nods. "It took a few washes but it doesn't smell like corn anymore, so..."
"I'm glad," You smile easily, not minding him trailing off. "I've dumped food on myself more than once and it's horrible to get off. I have a sweater at home where the sleeve still smell like milk."
Wilbur laughs, feeling as though he's floating on air. It wasn't even the funniest joke in existence but Wilbur is sure he could never laugh harder, warmth bubbling up in his chest. "That sounds horrid. Although I once managed to burn the fur off a coat once."
"No," You gasped, reaching up to cover your smile with your hand. "An arsonist is here, in my neighborhood. For shame."
Wilbur doesn't know what confidence overcame him but he quirks his lips into a wicked grin, "That's not the worst I've done."
"Oh? Aren't you Mr. Bad boy?" You say with a chuckle.
Again, it comes out without thinking. "Depends, do you like bad boys?" His cheeks flush instantly, hands curling up as he almost dies of embarrassment.
You raise a brow, lips curled into a smile. "I like cute boys that look cuter in my sweaters."
It takes him a second for it to process, his ears the brightest shade of red in just a second. "Ah well," he fiddles with the hem of his sweater. "I mean, uh... Are you going to prom?"
"I haven't been asked yet," You look over at Tommy, stting down and digging with Kujo helping. "But I think I'd like to go."
"Well, I—, do you wanna...," Wilbur grimaces, taking a second to breathe. "Would you like to go to prom with me?"
You positively beam at him, "I would love to."
{《☆》}
[Tommy eat dirt :DDD]
[Next post is going to be a c!Purpled fic and maybe a pt2 to Wildest Wills, and then updates will likely slow down with finals before I get back during break :P]
[Take care of yourself. Eat food, drink water, take a shower. You are loved and appreciated even if it's hard to accept. Reach out to your friends, they miss you as much as you miss them. Have a day <3]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars
❤ No Friends
[2300+ words]
[He/Him pronouns]
[Squid Game AU: Blood mentions, undescriptive death, furry mention, possible other triggers be careful!]
Description: This contest isn't a game between friends. Somehow, you find some anyway. [Dream Team x Reader]
[Read the rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
You worried your lip between your teeth, leaning back against the coarse fabric of your bed. Teams were already forming, people huddled in their own unconsciously divided sections watching stragglers warily. The next game was set to start soon and you hadn't joined a team, an unsettled pit in your stomach every time you thought about picking a side.
There were two large groups, one set of people referring to themselves as "L'Manburg" and another calling themselves "Dream's Ensemble" or something similar. Each leader was a stark division from the other, one team lead by the first number, 001, and the last number, 486, though you didn't remember who had which.
Your own number, 243, was smack dab in the middle of both of the numbers. In a way, the rest of the stragglers considered you their de-facto leader with no one else taking up the mantle. There weren't many who hadn't chosen a side but there was still enough people for you to feel so small for the shoes you were trying to fill.
You tore a piece of your bread apart, shoving it in your mouth with nothing else to do. It wasn't amazing bread, not warm and soft and slightly buttery, but it could've been worse. You've had people give you worse. You took a good look over the people spanning the beds around you. They weren't trustworthy, not truly, you didn't know half of their names and the rest of them were a blubbering mess of weak spots. Weak spots got you killed.
Frowning, you ripped off another piece of bread. As you shove it in your mouth. the disgusting taste of paper hit your tongue. You've eaten enough scrap paper in times of desperation to know the taste of ink smearing your tongue. Spitting it out, you wipe at your tongue with your sleeve and grimace at the slobbery piece of paper in your bread.
'Circle. Triangle. Star. Umbrella.'
It was scrawled in perfect print. on such tiny paper that it was a wonder you ever noticed it. You glanced around, curious if anyone else noticed the odd taste. No, nothing. No one had hunched into themselves reading a tiny pink slip. You were the only one to notice.
Without thinking, you shoved the paper in your mouth. It wasn't a good taste but you had a feeling the slip had something to do with the next challenge. Shoving the rest of the bread in your mouth, you chugged the rest of your milk and wiped your mouth. The next challenge would be starting soon, you should probably try to make some alliances, however strained.
"Hi," Someone walked up to you before you could move, white-rimmed sunglasses pushed high up their nose. Their light brown hair was bouncing with their steps. "I don't think we've talked yet."
"No," You affirm, briefly looking over their shoulder and catching the stone-faced leader staring back. Goosebumps trailing your neck, you twist your head up to look in 404's eyes from your low position on your bed. "I'm Y/N. No last name."
"George, last name not needed." They said, lips quirked up with amusement. "So, I'm only asking because Dream told me to but would you like to join the Dream SMP."
"No," You said without needing to think. You could join, but they had a target painted on their back by L'Manburg and it was drama unneeded. "I appreciate the offer but I'd rather stay a neutral party for now."
George didn't look surprised at all. "I thought so," he said, solidifying your guess. "You don't seem the type to instantly join a fight. You'd watch and wait for the right moment to join. Dream didn't think so but he's a stupid American."
"You're oddly observant," You say in lieu of a response.
"And so are you." George did smile this time. a sweet little thing, shy but heart-warming. "Word of advice, don't wait too long. You sit around the entire time and people won't need you. You'd be another death in a game where people stopped keeping track."
You look at George, really look at him, and he is unassuming with his too-large zip-up hoodie that wasn't his and his boyish, charming features. There is a sharpness to his face though, sharp teeth hiding behind soft lips and edges that could cut steel. His eyes, barely noticeable with the sunglasses. see too much with a smart glint that has you wondering what he doesn't know. He tips his head to you, face going back to an impasse.
"See you after the game," His voice is solid, confident. You are confident too.
{《☆》}
You pick a triangle and it is the easiest decision you've made in a while. George greets you with a tip of his head, already leaning back into a bed when you're done. Dream is looking at you over his shoulder and the goosebumps are back.
Settled down in your own corner of the nobodies, you don't expect anyone to bother you until gunshots start ringing out. But someone does, shaking your shoulder and then leaping back when you swing your leg at them.
"Woah," 034 has their hands raised in the air, a large distance between the two of you. They have a bandana wrapped around their head, swaying with them as they lean back. "Sorry dude didn't mean to startle you."
"Whatever, why are you here?" You grumble, a bit peeved at being woken up.
"Uh, oh, Dream wanted to see if you changed your mind." They laugh nervously, scratching at their neck as they look back. Dream is staring at both of you, eyes slanted in an oddly personal way as he meets your eyes. His eyes are a hazel type, with a warm brown circling the pupil but a forest green mixed at the edges. They're like steel as they trace your face, searching for any emotion that will give away your thinking.
"I don't know," You look back at 034, not missing their minuscule flinch from your stoic gaze. "Depends. Has it been long enough?"
They sway in place, switching from the balls of their heels to the tips of their toes anxiously. Not meeting your eyes directly, 034 shrugged. "Maybe, dunno. Not up for me to decide."
You hum, watching 034's hair tilt and fall to cover their eyes, black hair sucking the light out of the world around them. Their white bandana is the only divide you can notice in his hair, too many dark shades blended together to tell which parts fluff up or twist sporadically. He's the type to look dangerous at first glance, sharp features and burning eyes that solder fear into your heart. But he's nothing without a fearless leader to command him. He is a right-hand man but nothing more. It does not make him useless, just troublesome.
"No, not yet," You look back at Dream, smiling with no emotions. He doesn't look different, still staring at you indescribably, just with his lips twisted down and pressed into a thin line.
{《☆》}
A fight breaks out at night. It shocks you awake as your bed shakes with the force of a body slamming into it. People are screaming, crying, bleeding out in front of you. The sheets you were sleeping on are white but the floor around you is not so lucky.
Dodging past a crazy person whose attacking wildly, you spot the two main groups attacking each other. Sharp edged bottles cracked up for weapons, metal bars from the beds gripped tight in small hands.
You squint down at them, stepping closer to the scene. Dream, George, and 034 are leading the fight, all sporting weapons against the relatively young adults that make up L'Manburg, carving lines into cheeks and stabbing shallow wounds into tripped people. You don't know if anyone even has a team when everyone's attacking at wild.
Kicking a bloodthirsty man towards the fight, he's taken down in seconds by an angry dutch man screaming something about furries. Blood pools around their body and you take the brief second to leap down and take their weapon off of them. Slick metal, dripping with blood, is wiped down with your shirt before you try using it. It wouldn't be useful if it fell out your hands the second you tried using it, would it?
You keep towards the outskirts, attacking anybody who gets close. They tend to scramble off quick enough, looking for bigger fish to fry. That is until an oddly tall British man leaps down from a bed and faces you.
"So, you're the person Dream's been trying so hard to get." 486 comments almost idly, bored in fact. "If I'm honest, you don't look like much. Too weak, don't look too smart, I'm honestly surprised you made it this far."
He's not entirely wrong. You hadn't entirely expected to make it this far either, after so much time spent not doing anything productive this felt like too much progress. It felt good to be good at something, but you're also struggling to keep it up.
"You're not all that either," You snap, aiming desperately for an insult to land. Your words sound so familiar to you and it takes you a second to realize they're words you tell yourself. "You're smart sure but your not a leader. Your followers won't respect you when you start losing. You're a phony."
486 grits his teeth as the words hit their mark, arms flexing as they grip their weapon tighter. "Shut up."
You dodge a hard swing, knowing now that you two are more alike than you had thought. You dig deep into the darkness of your brain, pouring every taunting insult you've been told into a mold for a weapon sharp enough to hurt 486. "Why? Afraid of facing the truth that you're building yourself too high. When you fall, no one is going to catch you."
"Shut up!" 486 yelled, face flushed a hundred shades of fury. They swing again and this time you cannot dodge their long arms. Large shards of glass stick out from your arm, cracks in the glass as you drop to the floor. 486 stands over you, looming with a wicked sneer. "You're just a pest. A stupid fucking-!"
Someone bodily slams into 486 with a battle cry, using their metal bed post to hold 486 prisoner against the wall. You take a harsh breath in, stilted like the fear ripped your lungs open. As you open your eyes again, George is standing in front of you. He smiles, a cheeky little smug smile that flushes his cheeks pink. "Saw you needed some help, it's not too early is it?"
"Right on time," You said with an airy breath. George reached down and pulled you up, his soft hands cold against yours carefully. He didn't let go and neither did you. "I'm very much reconsidering my neutral stance," Glancing back at George, you smirked a bit. "After all, I need my knight in shining armour to keep me safe."
George laughed, his cheeks alight with embarrassment. Brushing it aside for his own good, he smiled, "I'm glad you've decided to join."
Looking over at 034, he was wiping off sweat as 486 scrambled towards 213. They looked up, meeting your eyes and smiling. "Glad you're alright now, you looked pretty shit during that. I mean, you're hot and all but blood doesn't look good on anyone." They shake their head before laughing. "So, where's Dream?"
George shook his head fondly, "You're an idiot, Sapnap."
Sapnap grinned, sharp-fanged and welcoming. "You love me."
"Go away," Letting go of your hand, George pushed Sapnap's face away roughly. As Sapnap ambled back to Dream, George looked back at you. Softening, he smiled sweetly at you, raising a hand to brush someone's blood of of your face. "I'm glad you're not just a number. Like, really glad."
You laugh and reach up to hold his hand, leaning into it more than socially acceptable. "I'm glad you aren't either." When you let go, George keeps your fingers linked. He bats away wild attacks, pulling you behind him often.
Dream meets your eyes as you walk into their metal barricade. Their stone cold face breaks into a smug little smile. "I told you so, George."
"Whatever, Dream, go get Ponk," George rolled his eyes, meeting your eyes as Dream happily ambles towards another fellow.
The brunet rolls his eyes fondly. "Dream's prideful. He was so sure you'd join us."
"Well I did, so he's not wrong." You look over at the man whose face seems to be naturally blank. He looks back and as both of your eyes meet he smiles, a softer but very wrong look from the man. Maybe he's just one of those people with a creepy smile. That does sound fitting.
There is a certain relief that comes with being able to let others make your choices. Having people stare at you, expecting and waiting, it makes your skin itch with the weight. Sapnap seems to feel the same, watching Dream, who takes the feeling in stride and thrives, waiting for an order to attack, to wait, to sleep, anything. It's sort of like he's a puppy.
Smiling at your own thought, imaging Sapnap with floppy dalmatian like ears, you slump back into George's shoulder. The brunet doesn't seem to care, too busy wiping blood off of his metal pole. Sapnap looks over, meeting your eyes with his own wide smile. Definitely a dog-boy.
"The fighting seems to be dying down," Dream says, looking down at you from where he now stands at your side. They twist their pole in their fingers, like it's easy to manipulate in theihands. "You two can rest. Me and Sap can take the first shift."
"Thanks Dream," George says, instantly standing to curl in the bed withing the fort. "Come on, Y/N."
"Alright," You stand, brushing dust off of your bloody clothes. Maybe it was counter-productive. "Thanks for the save again, Sapnap."
"Anytime handsome," He laughs, nodding you away to sleep.
Pillow next to George's, you think that maybe you should've joined sooner.
{《☆》}
[And then Dream betrays you all and goes on to die at Tommy's hands in the last game. /j]
[Second post this week wtf happened to having an upload schedule me. Anyway next post should be a little mermaid au with *someone* I'm not sure yet I'm already 1.5k words in ahdkgakf]
[Just as a forewarning! Uploads are out of order so something I said a chapter ago could've been from months ago! I'm thinking of adding dates to my post just so everyone is aware that somethings I've said are out of date! Also please keep commenting some of you are funny af]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars
Bitches stay crying about missing sands of time
It's me I'm bitches.
I'm in cheese cake factory without headphones I legally can't watch Tommy 'loudmouth' Innit pleeeease send help :((
Burn 💛
(699 words :) )
(He/him pronouns)
Description: You are burning your house down. Before you do, you and your father have a chat.
[Rest of the story under the cut.]
{《☆》}
You stare at your door, running a hand down the carved spruce wood. You had spent hours carving it, carving a family of foxes into it. Three of them. One, the largest, watching down on the second and third as the poets guitar lay by its feet. The little foxes play, rough housing with one another. You close your eyes and turn away.
He's there. He watches you with a lopsided smile when you open your eyes again, lips twisted at the edges in that dissimilar way you hated and loved. He is a dillusional phantom of your father, one who watches with the same burning eyes. "Are you really going to burn it down? Your legacy gone, just like that?"
It's like the world watches with bated breath for your answer, a quiet ringing in your ears as he just stand there. You curl your fingers into fists around your flint & steel, breathing in deeply. The air feels like fire in your lungs, weighing you down. "You know better than anyone I never cared about my legacy."
He laughs, a hand on your shoulder in a phantom grip of a proud hold. "The only thing you ever cared about was him." He agreed, his hand falling back to his side. "You'll do what it takes to keep him safe."
"He told me once," You start, a quivering thing in your voice that you hate with more than yourself. Your delusion stands next to you, tilting his head and leaning back against your porch railing. "He called you an Icarus. You flew too close to the sun."
He hums thoughtfully, "I was obsessed with my legacy. I didn't care what I had to do to keep it intact." Quieter, he admits words that only your hallucination will ever admit to you. "I didn't care if I lost you to keep my legacy."
"Your sentences bordered on senseless." You say, knuckles white as you hold the flint. A part of you is ready to get it over with, to rid the world of your reaction. "You were so paranoid, every time I saw you. Driving yourself insane faster than anyone could help."
"You and him were the only thing keeping me sane for a while. After I lost you, I lost it all. And then I lost myself." He admits. If this were real, you think you'd burst into tears. But it isn't, it's what you want to hear. You think you hate it more than hearing anything else. "I was scared of how they'd perceive me."
"Now I'm burning my house down." Its the hard truth. The reality of your actions slamming into you suddenly, like they were just thought before you spoke them into existence. It's funny, in a twisted way. "Let the world wonder how Y/N reacted when you broke his heart. I deserve to keep that to myself. You– the world doesn't deserves to know... It doesn't."
"Are you trying to tell me or convince me?" He laughs, brushing past you. He rests his palm on the door, brushing a gentle thumb over the guarding fox. "Go on then. Burn it down. Burn down our memories."
"I will." You say, stepping closer. The door is locked shut, photos and letters arranged in boxes in your room never to be seen again. Burning all the letters that might've redeemed him. The photos of who he was before, a father, a brother, a poet. "I will."
"Take the final step, Y/N," Wilbur chuckles, standing right by your side as your trembling hand lingers so close to drenched wood. "Burn the world down, my little soldier."
The fire catches quickly. Right in front of your eyes the family of foxes wilts and blackened flames scar any remnants of your work. With an echoing chuckle, your father fades from view and leaves nothing but soot on your face and a fire burning in front of your eyes.
"I hope that you burn." You whispher through a choked fog. Your house burn quickly and the smoke clogs up your lungs. You laugh as snot runs down your face and tears well up in your eyes.
And you burned too.
{《☆》}
[i listened to burn from Hamilton and couldn't help myself ahsjsjk
Also I wrote this twice because the first time I wrote it in discord and then my phone died and I lost it all :(]
[I'm currently working on like 6 other wips I really shouldn't have written this adkshjk I'm now writing mostly on paper because I'm traveling rn (which sucksss)]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Obsessed ❤
Request by @/leaf_2008 on Wattpad: "Can you do another fundy x male reader but they're both obsessed with each other?"
[He/him]
[1300+ words]
Description: You and Fundy live in DryWaters. The Emerald Duo come by for a less than friendly visit.
[Read rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
"I don't want you hanging around Y/N anymore," Fundy said, dead serious as he stared down Quackity. "He's mine."
Quackity's brows furrowed, "You can't restrict who Y/N hangs out with. Kinda possessive." It was obvious Fundy didn't care, the fox simply staring at him like they could see his soul. "Whatever. You can stop me from doing shit."
Fundy let them walk away, knowing that as they hurriedly strode away, he wouldn't have to worry about Quackity trying to steal you.
'Y/N's mine,' he thought bitterly. Fundy wasn't letting anyone touch his gem like that. Quackity had gotten too comfortable with you, forgetting his own fiances when he flirted shamelessly. Fundy wasn't afraid to remind anyone who you belonged to.
Rolling his shoulders, Fundy started towards the nether portal. You were off in Dry Waters, helping with construction, so that was where Fundy had to be.
You were technically Dry Waters only citizen after Niki and Ranboo left. And despite that, you had taken it upon yourself to work hard to build up the shadow of a town. Fundy loved how determined you were to help. And the look on your face when you concentrated on construction plans for too long, then you'd look up at him when you noticed him finally with joy lighting up your eyes and Fundy would melt slightly and agree to get anything you needed without hesitation.
Call him a simp, he was gladly one for you.
He let out a relaxed sigh as he entered the temporary house you two shared. Just like he knew you would be, you sat at your desk scribbling down at a piece of paper. You twisted the pen between your fingers, distracted by ideas so heavy that you didn't notice Fundy approaching.
He carefully approached, reaching around to situate himself before he relentlessly started tickling under your ribs. You squealed in shock, rolling back and twisting away from the deadly hands.
"Stop! Pff-! No-!"
There was a panicked moment when you shoved him off of you and he went careening to the floor. But you just laughed harder as Fundy sat up slowly.
"I hate you," Fundy pouts, leaning back on his palms. His ears flick at you, you just giggle at him. "No you don't."
Fundy exaggeratedly frowned, drawing out a dramatic sigh. "You're right, I don't."
You stand up and walk over to him, snuggling up to him. He shifts slightly as you lean on him, a smitten smile on his lips. Fundy wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you even closer. "How have things been here, darling?"
"Fine," you hum noncommittedly. Closing your eyes, you settle against him. "I've missed you here. It's been forever."
Fundy chuckles fondly, a small, satisfied purr rumbling in his throat. "It's been three hours max."
Humming, you twist to face him. "Three hours too long."
Fundy melts under your stare, rubbing circles into your hips. Unable to stop himself, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "I missed you too," he softly admits.
"Now who's the clingy one?" You tease, voice quiet in the soft atmosphere he created. Either way, you press your foreheads together and just breathe it in. Things have been hard lately, Dry Waters wasn't an easy project and you're a one-man team. Breaks were a luxury you've yet to have. At least, you never take any when Fundy isn't here.
The silence was good. It was comfortable when he was there to hold you and when Fundy's chest would rumble with barely-there purrs or when he'd pull you impossibly closer and press you into his chest and hold you like the rest of the world would decay if you weren't in his arms.
Fundy took your face in his hands, his cold fingers brushing your cheeks gently. He held you like you were his entire world. Your eyes flutter shut and you hold his hand as it caresses your face. There was something different about the world when Fundy held you like this. It softened, the colours were lighter and it seemed like everything except for Fundy just blurred and went away.
It was only him and you. Together. In each other's arms because there was no place you'd rather be.
You opened your eyes slowly as the distant noise of footsteps came closer. Fundy didn't seem to notice, fully focused on tracing invisible lines across your cheeks. "Fundy, cmon, up. Someone's here."
He blinked, frowning as you tried getting up. "Just tell them to go away." Then, he pulled you closer again. You could only barely keep yourself from falling back into another world with him.
"Fundy, I can't tell them to go unless you let me up."
Sighing, he relaxed back and let you go. Brushing off dirt from your pants, you walk over towards the entrance. Someone had already let themselves in because the door was wide open. A bit foolish of Fundy to keep it unlocked but whatever, it was probably just Niki or Ranboo. Maybe even HBomb. They all knew they were welcomed in your home.
HBomb might even be in his cat maid outfit and you finally get to witness him torturing Fundy live. That would be the highlight of your day
"Hello? Where'd you go uh-, Niki? No, Niki would have better manners. HBomb? Yeah, that sounds- oh..."
Technoblade and Philza stood in your living room, examining the objects strewn across the room with a critical eye. They turned to you, their swords out. Now, you were definitely the most skilled in building but you've fought before and you've fought well. Turning slightly, you pull your own sword out.
"Why are you here?" You demanded. Normally you'd have better manners. But also normally, people didn't break into your home. You glanced back at where Fundy was waiting for you. He'd come to find you if you were any louder so, quieter, you asked again. "What do you want?"
Technoblade frowned down at you, intimidating even as he stood hunched over himself awkwardly. Philza took a step forward, his palms raised in the air as you pointed your sword at him. "We need to talk to Fundy, mate. So could you go get him?"
Technoblade scowled at you, so you glared right back. "No. What do you want with him?"
"It's none of your business." Technoblade gruffly said, his grip on his sword tight. "Go get him."
You scoff. "He's my husband. His business is my business."
Philza took a step back, obviously startled at the news. "His-? When did he get married?"
"After you pricks blew up L'Manburg. We decided to tie the knot before it got too late." You frown at him. glancing back at the hybrid who just stared judgementally. "Now, why do you want to talk to him."
"I want him to stop messing around by my house." Technoblade cut in before Philza could, his red eyes glinting dangerously. "The next time I see him, I will kill him."
"Techno," Philza warns, glancing between the two of you. He sighs, "We do want him to stop coming over. He's not exactly welcome after... well, you know."
"I'll tell him. Now go. If I see you around him I will kill you." You stiffly say, watching as Philza's wings puff up slightly. Technoblade just scoffs as he makes his way towards the door.
"Like you could kill me."
Narrowing your eyes, you tug at your memory. "Careful, Tᒷᓵ⍑リ𝙹ʖꖎᔑ↸ᒷ, don't act like the voices haven't already warned you of me."
He stiffens slightly before he scoffs again. Philza pushes him forward and out the door, glancing back at you before he leaves. "Make sure to tell him."
Locking the door behind them, you turn back to the living room. Reaching the area where they stood, between the couch and the coffee table, you reached down to where they stuck the bug. Crushing the metal between your fingers, you made your way back to your office.
Fundy was dozing off, leaning back against the floor. You sighed, letting go of the tension that had coiled in your chest and you drop down next to him. Instantly, he throws his arm over you and pulls you close.
You'd do anything to protect this. To protect him. Anything at all.
{《☆》}
[Go get food and water. Sleep if it's later than 10pm for you and you don't have any work.]
[Also I now have a side blog @thek1ngtalks where I post updates and sneak peeks! Go give me clout ily all]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Remade 2 of them. And then I made Fundy's! Time to do more work on the actual writing more sadge
Distance - Wilbur Soot x M!Reader
Hi, I'm writing an xreader story and decided to make little mood boards for it. Might remake Wilbur's (possibly y/n's too) though since I don't 100% like his.
I'm also planning on making a few more but what do you think? First time making mood boards so I hope they don't suck.
i respect u if u like tubbo and dadschlatt as a duo but oh my god . shakes . do u ever think about how dadschlatt is technically canon through fundy but nobody recognizes dadschlatt and fundy as a father-son duo!!!!! like besties . the dynamic . fundy chose to stop being a spy for pogtopia bc he sympathized with the dictator that exiled his actual father. ISNT THAT CRAZY!! isnt it crazy that schlatt canonically views fundy as a son and felt betrayed he left him!!! isnt it crazy that cfundy views schlatt's sword, the one he got when schlatt died, an heirloom!!! isnt it crazy that his last appearance on the dsmp involves him giving schlatt's sword away to the museum!!! WHY AREN'T WE TALKING ABOUT THEMMM
So remember that one time when Jack Manifold said that he was a huge Ninjago fan and he’d always wanted to be the green ninja?
Anyway this is my Ninjago propaganda please go watch the show :)
Imagine :)
Karl just tweeted -
Tales From the SMP presents:
Revolution
Cast:
Wilbur Soot
TommyInnit
Tubbo
Fundy
Eret
Karl Jacobs
Dream
Sapnap
Georgenotfound
Punz
Karl is taken to the original revolution of L'Manberg with the knowledge of the war already told and has to try and help L'Manberg gain independance without the help from the disks to prevent them getting into Dream's hand.
Moral dilemmas occur over present relationships, does he follow his mission or join one of his future fiancés in the war where only one side can win - the choice can and will change the SMP as we know it.
So, when goats and foxes scream it often gets mistaken for humans in distress, right?
Anyway it's 3 am in manburg, and people are woken by what sounds like two people being brutally murdered.
They grab their weapons and armor and run outside, but turns out It's just Schlatt and Fundy screaming their souls out into the night again
Dad schlatt au where fundy asks him to walk him down the Isle instead of Wilbur,,,,
ok ok hear me out i know there’s a small chance of it happening but what if schlatt shows up as a ghost at fundy and dream’s wedding.
like fundy’s getting ready for the ceremony and then he looks out at the seating area and there are these two ghostly father figures he has complicated relationships with sitting in the back talking to each other and he just goes
huh.
Always about the kindergarten au, a sequel to the previous events (1/2)
"Phil. WHY did a child EAT a teacher?!"
"Well, ducklings can show cannibalistic tendencies in their youth..."
"PHIL WHAT DO YOU MEAN-"
Pic 1: the sleeping Blade UoU zzz
Pic 2: an angel looking after his beloveds
Pic 3: BBH my beloved :) (srs,people make fun of me cause I don't like swearing, he's my comfort streamer <3 )
Pic 4: a tired fox papa and his not-so-tired fox son
Pic 5: what could have been a beautiful friendship in canon TvT
Pic 6 and 7: grown-ups kids, Yogurt being an "ice kitsune" and Michael being one strong pig boi :)
So,this great artist @gaecactae, got this really nice hc: so,when a minecraft couple love eachother very much,a child can spawn nearby the parents.
Now. What if...Yogurt was Dream's and Fundy's child,who spawned a little later than usual when the couple was already separated? The product of a short time when the two were really in love with eachother...
Realization #1
Realization #2 (+mild heart attack)
(Of course,this is just one of many hcs, I also love the idea of Yogurt being just a random fox child adopted by Fundy ahah)
Oh? Who is this little fox strolling around with his dad?
Why, it's little Yogurt! Yogurt likes to do lots of things...
...he likes to take naps with his dada...
...but most of all, he likes to have playdates with his friend Michael! They always have so much fun together!
...he likes to haunt chickies...
Sometimes they even practice shapeshifting together! :)
What a lovely little fox is little Yogurt ^^
I'm going through a Fundy Brainrot, so here he is if he was a deity :>
I imagined him as a god of mischief (of course) and mixed together the design of a kitsune with the typical netherlands' clothes :D
A soft Fundywastaken Au, which was heavily inspired by @clairedreems posts :)
Basically Dream has Enderdragon's features,while Fundy has Phoenix's.
(Also, Dream pranking Fundy and Fundy falling even deeper in love with Dream because he's just as mischievous as he is,if it ain't love-)
Just a good,silly comic, that's all :)
Ghost!Fundy idea taken from @crystalknix
Mama Sally with her little bundle of joy! ^^
+Oh no,the babies are crying D:
Just a dumb comic about Sally The Salmon ^^
I prefer to headcanon her as a village fox girl, rather than a real salmon ^^" (Fundy, being the naive child he is, thought his father was talking about the salmon ahah)
I kinda got the idea from an artist I saw on IG,but I can't find them anymore,so if you know who they are could ya write it down? Thx (They headcanoned why Wilbur's mother is a Samsung fridge ^^)
+Even younger Fundy exploring and getting grossed out by the most hideous bug: the centipede.
++Found who is the artist I was inspired by: their name is theellipelli on IG :D