mxlovey32
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Fundy didn't remember Wilbur having wings. Turns out there's a reason for that.
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Tommy was sitting on a bench, well, The Bench, as Cat played on the record player to his left. He looked ill, pallid skin and bags under his eyes that could pass for bruises. A white streak in matted blonde hair covering a wide, off-colored scar that spanned across his forehead. His blue eyes now dull and gray as he stared out at the sunrise. The green bandanna he now used as a bonnet hid his hair loss, the enchanted compass pinned to his lapel, and the tarnished and burnt trench coat that always smelt of gunpowder no matter how many times he washed it weighed heavily on his conscience.
When he couldn't sleep, he would come out to the familiar spot to think. He didn’t think anyone would be out this early, so he began talking aloud, something that had become normal to him since exile. He folded his hands together and hunched forward, staring at the horizon line, voice raspy, “Prime, what do I do now?”
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The Journals of Wilbur Soot, and Tommy Innes by actually_eli, mxlovey32
Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF, Dream SMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
18 Oct 2022
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Crime Bois take on America during the late 1800s. Terrible workplace conditions, old-timey slang, and terminal illnesses await!
AKA: My bestie and I accidentally wrote fanfiction as our history project and now you all get to witness it :)
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金継ぎ (Kintsugi), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum; the method is similar to the maki-e technique. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.
Or, Beeduo addresses their scars.
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L’manberg has won the election. Wilbur has his two sons by his side and the future is so bright. But after a unsettling dream Wilbur has about a black eyed man he’s not so sure anymore about all of their futures.
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BNHA Oneshots by mxlovey32
Fandom 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
21 Jul 2020
- Words:
- 938
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- 1
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The sand pest is gone, yet Daniil Dankovsky still hasn't left the town. With winter being just around the corner, Daniil gets sick. But this type of infection is unlike anything he's ever seen. When scales start sprouting on his body, it doesn't take long for his whole perspective to shift. His only salvation seems to be, once again, Artemy Burakh. Thankfully, the menkhu doesn't fear snakes.
Daniil turns into a snake, which flips his values and kickstarts a journey of self-reflection.
Bookmarked by mxlovey32
06 Apr 2026
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Turn away (‘cause I’m awful just to see) by Cabbage_patch_kid
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
27 Mar 2026
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So what if his former associates thought of him as a lowlife? So what if he was disgraced from academia? So long as he was still welcomed back into the town-on-Gorkhon, nothing else mattered.
With quivering hands, he picked up the letter and carefully opened it as though he was afraid something would jump out at him from inside it. But nothing had changed, it was the exact same as when he had first read it a week ago.Bachelor Daniil Dankovsky,
There is another way.
— Victoria Olgimskaya Sr., The Light Mistress.Yes, there was hope for him still, and hope he would cling to till death did them part.
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Over a year later, Daniil Dankovsky returns to the Town, with a letter from a dead woman and a ticking time bomb inside his own body, in a last-ditch effort to defeat death.
Bookmarked by mxlovey32
26 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Chap 13. Dankovsky is dying. Inoperable lung cancer. His condition has just been discovered by Artemy and his friends, and Artemy has just realized his feelings for Daniil. Nina Kaina, possessing the body of her husband gave Daniil an ultimatum: Artemy leaves the town (or dies?) and Daniil may live on, or keep things as they are and he will succomb to his cancer in two months. Daniil chose the latter.
A letter, supposedly from deceased Victoria Oglimskaya, beckoned him back to the town promising a cure, or rather, a way to keep living.The boat bumped gently into the dock. Artemy was there, holding out a hand to support Daniil off the vessel. Though back on solid ground, it still felt as though his body was rocking back and forth on the water.
The clouds were yet to reach the Town, giving them only a few minutes left of the sunlight before it would become drowned out by the storm.
“How’d it go?” Artemy asked.
“Oh, you know,” Daniil shrugged as he trudged to a bench, the Mistresses nowhere to be soon. “We had a rather enlightening discussion.” He plopped onto the bench with a relieved sigh, setting the cane down (his wrist had already begun hurting from its use) and stretching out his legs.
Artemy watched him expectantly, his body refusing to relax. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What happened?” He demanded. “What’s to be done?”
Daniil fished for a cigarette. “Why, nothing,” he said calmly.
Artemy’s shoulders tensed. “Nothing?”
“Correct,” he nodded. The smoke sent a soothing, burning tension down his throat. He leaned back, taking in the clear sky, how the light was angled so the sun landed beautifully on Artemy’s stricken face, as it did in Ersher’s self-portrait. His overgrown golden hair nearly reached his ears. “You’re due for a haircut—”
“Shudkher, forget about me!” He yelled, grasping Daniil’s shoulders. “What do you mean nothing?”
“How warm you are, Tyoma. Give me your hands, let me warm mine in yours,” he peeled off his gloves so Artemy could hold Daniil’s hands within his own, rubbing them until the colour returned to his fingertips.
“Don’t drive me mad like this, please,” Artemy begged. “What do you mean nothing?”
Again, he shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do. I’m going to die.”
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To Daniil's shock, Artemy instantly blushed redder than the bloody twyre, all the way from the bridge of his nose across his cheeks to the tip of his ears. His eyes widened, and he glanced between the underwhelming nosegay and Daniil's face repeatedly, raising his hand to cover his mouth.
"Wh—Wow, oynon, this is... I didn't expect this from you," Artemy stammered, his tone low and almost raspy.
"Yes, well. I've learned at least some things about the Steppe, haven't I?" Daniil preened, shooting him a modest grin.
"Ah, I suppose you have, oynon... th—thank you, truly."
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Daniil gifts Artemy herbs without realizing that he's propositioning him according to Kin tradition. Culture shock shenanigans ensue.
Bookmarked by mxlovey32
27 Nov 2025
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While I'm here by Isimarie
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
02 Mar 2026
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"He took a long breath, stripping off his shoes and stepping over the railing.
The wind almost seemed to pick up as he stood on the thin ledge.
“It’s almost romantic“ He thought as he shifted his weight forward.
The wind howled around him as the concrete floor came closer and closer. He closed his eyes a second before impact."What Izuku didn’t plan, was that he would wake back up surrounded in his own blood, entirely unharmed.
(Or, Deku has a quirk where he instead of dying regenerates, and is just generally mentally unwell, trying his best to overcome past trauma, I mean, what other choice does he have if he can't die?)
TW in the notes
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Bookmarked by mxlovey32
07 Nov 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Izuku has a revival quirk and has died several times both by his own hand and from the League of Villains. Himiko sent an anonymous tip to Aizawa post USJ that lead to him finding where Izuku had been kidnapped to. He hasn't acted the same since returning.
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• Don’t let Journals go to waste
Pen scratched over paper as the boy crossed the final thing off his To-Do list.
With a quiet squeak he got up from his desk, placing the journal back into the drawer it belonged in, pulling two different ones out of it before closing it.
He then pulled a thick pen from his drawer, placing the journals side by side. One of which had an empty cover, the other read ‘Quirk analysis’
‘Open me’
He scrawled onto the cover of the empty one before clicking the cap of the pen back onto it.
The boy gave his room a long look. With all of his stuff now up on display, it almost felt like home. It almost drew his mind out of the sludge it had been submerged in ever since he woke back up on the concrete floor that day.
“I’m going to bed now! Goodnight mom!” He typed into his phone and hit send.
His phone vibrated with what he assumed was a message from his mom as he closed the door to his room.
His gaze fixed on the floor, he waked downstairs.
“Oh Izuku!”
Smile.
Turn your head and make eye contact.
“You’re having dinner at your mom’s tonight, right?” Tsuyu said. She was chopping vegetables in the shared kitchen.
“Ooo I should visit home for dinner at some point too. I truly miss my Maman’s cooking” Aoyama said, a wistful expression on his face.
Laugh.
Wave.
His gaze returned to the floor as he exited the dormitory. They’d be fine without him.
Izuku put his hood up, as he let himself disappear into the night.
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"It’s evening. Eight thirty-two p.m. The sun would be setting outside, washing the landscape in fiery colors that he hasn’t seen for weeks. Or months. He’d grieve, but the endless, empty void of limbo suits him better these days.
Tommy can’t count the times he’s done this. He wakes up, just as bloodsoaked as he was in death, and cradles the clock in his hands like it will save him.
Eleven thirty-five a.m., he read with an ache in his chest where a sword used to be.
Three eighteen p.m., he read with blurry eyes, vision still swimming from the phantom damage to his skull.
Five forty-nine a.m., he read after an eternity of trying to summon the strength to move his arm, white and pale as a sheet. Dream wanted to see just how much blood was in his body. Tommy doesn’t know the answer; he wasn’t awake long enough to see it through."
OR:
Dream escapes Pandora's Vault and makes good on his promise to kill Tommy and revive him over and over and over and over and over--
Bookmarked by mxlovey32
14 Jan 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
The Dead Don't Dream but shorter, sweeter, and Tommy gets retribution by killing Dream himself and blowing shit up!