Fandoms
- Hermitcraft SMP (2)
- Dream SMP (2)
- Marvel (1)
- The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (1)
- Fleabag (TV) (1)
Recent works
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Summary
Six months later, she runs into him at the supermarket.
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under phantom eyes by decaffeinatedsquirrel for moon_shroom
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Evolution SMP
11 Jan 2025
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Summary
Grian stands at the prow of the ship, motionless. If Pearl doesn’t think too hard, in the darkness he’s almost the same as he was five years ago, standing alone against the world as was his pastime. Jimmy used to say that the two of them couldn’t be separated; like a boxed set, sun and moon. Pearl would lure the ghosts out with darkness, and Grian would snuff them out with his sunlight.
But she can’t lie to herself forever. The silhouette of the Watcher’s wings is blocking out the stars, and Pearl is so, so small.
~
Pearl spends her life destroying ghost ships with her crew of pirates and running from her past. When a friend presumed dead makes an unexpected reappearance in her life, she'll have to fight all of her demons, past and present: and as it turns out, they're unfortunately the same thing.
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“So,” says Philza in an alarmingly conversational tone. The side of the speeder bangs into a fruit stand - Techno hears the angry cries of the merchant behind them as they’re swallowed into the wind. “Is it true you’ve turned light?”
“Sounds about right. Well, I’ve actually reevaluated my stance on the current governmental -”
“Good,” says Philza, like the excellent conversationalist he isn’t. “It’d explain why you’re absolute crap with the Force.”
“How do you know what the F-”
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Technoblade is a Sith warrior recently turned towards the light. Philza is a cryptic legend bullets just can't seem to hit. When the Angel of Death finds him cornered in a dingy cantina, Techno needs to rediscover his connection to the Force if they're going to make it out alive.
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“No one cared about him!” exclaims Dream, laughing, always laughing. “You don’t care about a tank, Techno. You don’t evaluate the emotions of something built to destroy. Liabilities; what are you? A chant in the dark, a cold sword; a favor owed. You’re no more man to them than the swords they wield. The only difference is they have to reason with you to turn the tides.”
“Phil cares.”
“You’re smarter than that,” Dream snorts. “Voices come to watch a show. What show are you giving them?”
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Or - stuck in prison with Dream, Techno thinks twice about loyalty, favors, and what it really means to be a hero.
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mercury by decaffeinatedsquirrel
Fandoms: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Hermitcraft SMP
19 Nov 2021
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Summary
But that was third - last - that was last time. This world wants death. It screams in green fire and drowns and burns with ferocious tension. It buries its assets in the earth with bodies and fills the blank space with bloodlust. Everything is muted here. Everything is humid, wet, muffled by sheets of snow and stone, wilting, dead. If he’s careful he can smell the moss underneath that layer of ash. Nothing feels real anymore and everything smells like rain. Everything is a grave.
The sun has lost its battle with gravity, and now they’re all in that awkward space between dusk and night. The stars are dim behind an ever shifting cloud cover. He wonders what he would have done a few months ago. Not be here, probably, though it’s not like he had much of a choice in that. Not kill the horse. Gosh, he’d killed a horse, and he doesn’t know why that feels more monstrous than punching his best friend to death but it does for some reason and he can’t shake it.
The lead swings lazily at him, taunting.
He can’t fall asleep.
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Or, as night falls the day he kills Scar's - his - horse, Grian reflects on who he was and who he's become.
(Post Session 3 - before, you know)
Recent bookmarks
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walking on the dark side of the evening by Odaigahara for pastelitey
Fandoms: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series
27 Dec 2024
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Gem’s hands hurt, backpack over her shoulder and satellite phone probably in her pocket still, emphasis on the probably and good luck if it wasn’t, and her muscles hurt like they’d been shredded to bits by the climb. And maybe they had, honestly, because what a climb it had been.
Scrambling up the side of a slot canyon, hearing the rumbling of a whole freaking flood from upriver-- Pearl had boosted her for the last part. They’d gone up like thirty feet, using handholds they could barely fit their fingertips into, and the water had frothed below them, churning with mud and debris.
Pearl had heard it before Gem had. The canyon had garbled the sound of running water, but Pearl had frozen, knuckles going white on the straps of her hiking pack, hackles raising practically visibly.
Werewolf senses. Never failed.
Series
- Part 36 of mcyt fic my beloved
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,735
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 54
- Kudos:
- 190
- Bookmarks:
- 20
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- 1,094
Bookmarked by decaffeinatedsquirrel
11 Jan 2025
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between the click of the light and the start of the dream by Odaigahara
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
09 Aug 2024
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Summary
The lights of the whole district went out with a pop, streetlights and autocars grinding to a halt. The contrast felt like losing touch with reality, stimulation dropping to zero: no lights in the windows, no holographic advertisements crowding the sidewalks, every VR port in the city running on emergency battery power. Grian activated his wings on reflex, but there wasn’t an attack. It couldn’t have been an attack, or Pearl would have already been moving.
The only possible threat was the storm over the sea, a roiling unnatural thunderhead that the lack of advertisements made significantly more visible. It was coming in from the west. To the east the sky was clearer, and the clouds had gaps between them, and one of those gaps cradled the moon like a picture frame.
It was impossible to concentrate on anything else after seeing the moon. The heightened winds, the debris slamming into the unshielded buildings, the shantytown lights blinking off one by one as they diverted power to their defenses– none of it meant anything. None of it even registered.
“Pearl,” Grian said, almost too fascinated to be horrified, "am I dreaming, or is the moon big?”
Series
- Part 32 of mcyt fic my beloved
- Part 9 of hermit/traffic sampler [personal favorites]
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,502
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 65
- Kudos:
- 139
- Bookmarks:
- 39
- Hits:
- 1,910
Bookmarked by decaffeinatedsquirrel
20 Aug 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
It’s cyberpunk! It’s unreliable narrators! It’s a great example of how to worldbuild and write characters! It’s highly recommended!
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“For better or for worse,” Donna promised the Doctor, the day she met him. The day he met her. She could have chosen any number of lines to make the joke, but she’d missed her own wedding, been kidnapped by flippin’ robot Santas, and jumped out of a taxi because this Martian without a name promised he would catch her.
A leap of faith.
Donna Noble didn’t believe in faith, or destiny. At least, not for people like her. But she’d jumped anyway because, because, because –
Because there was a robot Santa driving the taxi.
(She jumped. Time held them in balance. The Doctor caught her. He always would: for better or for worse.)
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Or, a character study of Donna Noble, with the Doctor.
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Summary
Fisk gets put away again, and it feels like that should be the end of it, but it’s not. Of course it’s not. The FBI needs a win. Who better to take that out on than the lawyers who exposed their corruption.
I am not Daredevil, Matt says so many times in so many spaces that he almost believes it.
His ability to maintain a concept of self was difficult enough before this: this new judgment day, this thing that has fractured him beyond what he thought was possible. He feels like he’s been dropped into the ocean, all his limbs weighted with stones, unable to find which way is up and which way is down, which way is surface and which way is gone.
Later, he'll try to think about it objectively, distance himself from this new kind of violence that inhabits his body. He'll grapple with the defined edges of his constantly shifting memory, carefully delineate the before from the after, turn his conclusion over and over in his mind. As it turns out, he observes, living feels a lot like drowning.
[An exploration of trauma and memory, of what it might look like if Matt's identity as Daredevil was exposed. Prison fic. Post-S3.]
Series
- Part 1 of light as memory, light as myth
Bookmarked by decaffeinatedsquirrel
21 Jun 2024
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Adrenaline Rush by FoxAutumn
Fandoms: Lockwood & Co. (TV), Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
12 Mar 2023
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“You could hold me out over the edge of that balcony in the office and pretend to drop me,” I suggested.
“I will have to laugh about that one later, Lucy.”
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Based on a Tumblr prompt, which was basically: what if Lucy got ghost-touched while on a case with Lockwood, and after finding that they don't have any adrenaline injections with them, she asks Lockwood to kiss her?
Purely to stave off the ghost-touch, of course.Bookmarked by decaffeinatedsquirrel
30 May 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
the cutest, most in-character, altogether most lovely lockwood & co fic. Highly recommend!

