#Fried up circuits // Crack

[absoluteangsty]

// ERM ACTUALLY ITS GIN RUMMY

@bytepire || @disassnbler

[okiedokrie]

size kink go brr

Summary: Reader is horny, Mingyu is big, size kink go brrr

Characters/Pairing: Boyfriend!Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Smut, dirty, self-indulgent, porn without plot. (Crack, yeah, this is a crackfic smut.)

AU/Trope info: Established relationship. No thoughts, head empty, monster cock Mingyu.

Word Count: 1254

Warnings: Female reader, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: reskin of another fic i wrote for ateez bc I need to feed yall

Smut Warnings: cunnilingus, degradation and praise at the same time(?), choking, very large emphasis on the fact that reader is getting split open by what is essentially a third leg, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, reader starts crying at one point but Mingyu isnt into that, biting, reader overstimulated to the point she short-circuits. 

“Fuck, Mingyu!” You screamed as he gave a particularly harsh suck to your clit, your fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as two of his large fingers scissored you open. The dirty slurping noises come from Mingyu as he ate you like a starved man, he groans and almost buries his nose in your pelvis, breathing in your scent, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as if your pussy was the best thing in his mouth after fried chicken. 

He bucks into the mattress, dick hard and leaking at the tip in his boxers, if you kept moaning so pornographically and pulling at his hair he might just jizz in his pants. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs hard, pulling your pussy closer to his face, the man was on a mission to make you cream (or better yet, squirt) all over his face; an essential part of his skincare, at least that’s what he said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- Mingyu! Mingyu! I’m cumming- cumming-!” You whine out, clamping your thighs around his head as you push his face closer, Mingyu welcomes your orgasm with his whole mouth by messily slurping your cum. He pulls away from your cunt once you start cringing from overstimulation, using his hand to wipe your cum off his chin.

He quickly discards his pants and boxers, “Help me get your legs over my shoulders babe.” He says as you hook your hands under your thighs, spreading out your legs as Mingyu slots himself between you, pumping his dick quickly. “Fuck, you should see how hot you look, so tiny and so willing to take everything I give you.” He said while lining his dick to your entrance. You can feel the tip of his dick prodding at your hole, you bit your lip as you brace for the entrance of his gargantuan, monster cock; I’m talking thiccc with three ‘c’s, third leg, can play baseball with the fucking moon kind of big.

You hiss as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, his large calloused hands guide your hips onto his dick as he pushes in more. You hiss at the delicious sting of his dick, removing your hands from your legs and opting to claw at the bedsheets, Mingyu takes one takes a hand that was once guiding your hips to hold onto the headboard, the view from below was great.

You slowly take him inch by inch, and even with how wet you are the penetration still seems to burn, it took a lot more time than you think for Mingyu to bottom out, like, when I say MONSTER COCK I MEAN it. Once he does bottom out, his pelvis meeting with your ass, the tip of his angry cock pressing up against your cervix and pushing away some of your organs. 

He pulls out slowly, gauging your reaction to every vein and ridge on his cock, as he pushes back in you furrow your eyebrows, biting your lip as you feel his dick rub the entire inside of your pussy. He groans when you clench around him, nails digging into the wood of the headboard as he starts with a gentle pace, moving his hips in and out slowly at first, before speeding up the roll of his hips.

“Holy shit- Mingyu! Fuck so big, too big-!” You cry out, you really can’t be sure that’s what you said though, even if he isn’t fucking into you at an animalistic pace he still manages to fuck the brain cells out of you, you might just be babbling nonsense right now. He makes a noise between a moan and a groan, biting the inside of his cheek, “You take everything I give you- you understand?” He grunts out, speeding up again and pinning you down more, he is low enough for you to feel his hard breaths on your ear, he bites down on your shoulder in an attempt to quiet down his noises, he wants to hear you.

You grip his arms, moaning in a high pitch and babbling nothing in particular, Mingyu was fucking you stupid with his giant cock and you couldn’t be happier, his pace now was brutal, the skin of your ass stinging with how hard his pelvis has smacked into it, you could feel yourself get embarrassingly close already. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries as your orgasm was speedily approaching, you clenched around his dick to signal to him your incoming orgasm, but it never came, because suddenly Mingyu got off and pulled out, denying you your orgasm. 

You whine in frustration, making more babbling noises and doing grabby hands at Mingyu, he chuckles and bites his lip, looking up and down your naked body, from your hard and perky nipples to your abused and tender hole. He finally enters you again after making sure your climax is nowhere to be seen, this time he starts fucking into you with fervor, holding your hips up to hit the deepest part of you, “Fuuck- that’s it, take my cock like the good fucking cum slut you are-” He says, somehow the combination of his praise and degradation make you whine out, absolutely blissed out, no thoughts, head empty, only big Mingyu and his big cock destroying your insides.

You were so, so close again, but Mingyu slowed down the aggressive pace of his hips, stopping his thrusts and just grinding down slowly, you started to cry, you wanted to cum so badly but Mingyu didn’t let you for the second time already, “Fuck- Mingyu, please please please, let me cum! I’ve been so good, please-!!” Mingyu, not having the heart to deny you again, finally decides that he was going to let you cum.

He lays down, “Go on and ride me, babe, I know how much you love to bounce on my cock.” He says, so naturally, you jump up and immediately straddle his hips, sinking onto his cock quickly, he takes a sharp intake of air as you enthusiastically start rolling your hips, grinding down on him. You place your hands on his large and firm chest, then you start bouncing up and down his cock, loving the sting of his giant dick reaching the deepest parts of you. Mingyu can feel himself coming closer to his high as you clamp down on his dick like a vice, trying to milk him for his worth, he grips your hips and starts bucking up into you, you whine out and babble expletives, mouth hanging open and drooling, digging your nails into his chest as your orgasm approached you quickly.

You throw your head back and finally cum, your jaw slacking open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the spasming of your pussy pushes Mingyu over the edge too, sending his load straight into your womb, this action threw you violently into another orgasm, making you choke out a strangled moan as your cringe of oversensitivity.

You both pant out, you’re exhausted and sweaty, muscles sore, pussy raw, and you just want to pass out in a tub full of warm water. Mingyu shares the same sentiment, so he runs a bath for both of you to get cleaned up, and once you two are done taking a bath, you sit down on the edge of the tub while Mingyu changes the ruined sheets. He tucks you under his arm, kisses your forehead, and you both pass out.

FIN.

[skimmingmilk]

"If it helps, one of the many scenarios my brain likes to twist around is imagining Sonic's perspective of No Cracks In A Closed Loop (and I adore Tails getting to be a badass and pulling off the impossible, too- my brain just likes to spin on the angst sometimes)" - @manynerdthings

A/N: So I was inspired...

I think it's safe to say this helped a lot xD Thank you, manynerdthings!

This is a continuation of my fic "No Cracks in a Closed Loop"

No Cracks in a Closed Loop — Sonic's Side

"Sonic."

That single word—no, just the voice alone—was enough to cut through the adrenaline rush as pure chaos energy sang through his veins and ignited every nerve with its spark. In a flash of light and sound, Super Sonic punched a hole through the Starfall-titan-wanna-be by using his own body as a projectile. A cocky grin cut across his muzzle as it wobbled in place, setting its sights on him instead of the city it had been about to level; its laser cannons aimed directly at the fault line.

This fight wouldn't last twenty seconds. They'd already won.

"What's up, partner?" Sonic said into the comm as he shot skyward.

The streak of gold drew the mech's cannon higher, until it cleared the tips of skyscrapers and nearby mountaintops by the time it shot at him. The laser's heat didn't even singe his fur, firing at full power into the stratosphere instead of drilling deep into the crust of the planet. It zinged past the satellite Tails was communicating from, but Super Sonic's gaze didn't linger on it for more than half a second—already more than certain it was out of the laser's range. Speeding through the air, he whirled around towards the mech for his next move. He was going to cyloop Eggman's newest addition to his junk pile right off its feet. 

Swerving down in a sharp arc, Super Sonic avoided the next blast while he swung around to try and circle it. It's clawed hand swiped at him before he could complete his first circuit. He shot straight up before it could catch him, homing attacking it in the face instead.

The comm was still quiet. Tails must've swapped to their own channel. Super Sonic flew backwards, putting both the titan and the distant satellite in his line of sight. Whatever he had to say, he didn't want anyone else to hear it.

Super Sonic's brow furrowed as a barrage of bullets opened up on him. He weaved between the hundreds of projectiles glinting dangerously in the sunlight, but his chaos energy and speed worked in tandem, as fluidly as a dance, while he searched for another opening to try the cyloop again.

He could beat this thing without it, sure, but it was the fastest way to take it down.

"Tails? Still with me, bud?" Super or not, Sonic still spared a second to check in, static ringing in his ears as he burst through the center of the mech's chest plate for a shortcut.

"I'm here," Tails answered, but his voice sounded faint, like the feedback was drowning him out. "Sorry, I…" Super Sonic started his cyloop. "I just wanted to—" He was halfway around. "I'm sorry—"

Sonic closed the loop. A burst of chaos energy swelled up with a deafening boom. The air rippled with the force of it in great gusts of wind that rocked the trees and the grass of the nearby hills. Waves rose up in the bay, their white caps scraping the bottom of the golden bridge that marked the edge of the sea. The fake titan lifted into the air, sparks crackling off its metal casing as its system overloaded. Super Sonic didn't give it a second to recalibrate itself.

Faster than anyone could see, he smashed into it on all sides. A tiny mote of golden light against the towering behemoth, but it struck every weak point, fried every circuit, as the chaos energy pressed in on it from the outside. Metal crunched and caved it on itself, contorting into a twisted configuration until it no longer resembled a machine.

A cheap imitation of the ancients' attempts to defend themselves, designed only to destroy instead of protect.

Super Sonic grabbed onto mech's arm—or maybe its leg, it was hard to tell at this point—as the cyloop's effect faded, catching it before it crushed Westopolis. He swung it around and around, gritting his teeth as he built up momentum and set his sights on the ocean out ahead of them. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

Super Sonic let go.

The mech's remains were flung through the air, over the coastline and beyond the bridge that cut off the bay from the sea. It crashed into the water, the ocean spray shooting up into the air in a tower of mist once it hit the surface. The waves rolled aggressively towards the coastline, but ultimately broke apart in the bay before they could do too much damage. Some millionaires might have to replace a yacht or two, but that wasn't Sonic's problem.

As he dusted his hands off, he could finally acknowledge the warning bells Tails's last words to him had set off. "Hey, what was that, bud? I didn't catch—"

Super Sonic turned towards the satellite, addressing it like he would Tails, but it was gone. Instead a cloud of smoke filled the space where the satellite had been not ten seconds ago. Metal shards and fire rained upon the bay. Everything in pieces. Everything gone.

His comm was in chaos. Unintelligible voices shouted over one another in a cacophony of white noise that was already fighting a losing battle to the ringing in his ears. But he still noticed one voice was missing. He couldn't hear it.

He hadn't heard any of it.

Over the sonic boom of his cyloop and the screeching of metal as he demolished the titan, Sonic hadn't heard the satellite explode.

The satellite his little brother was on.

He'd been trying to tell him something.

He'd been trying to tell him something before a satellite exploded with him on it.

"I'm sorry."

Tails. 

Super Sonic shot off like a bullet, speeding towards the black cloud of smoke and smoldering debris like there was even a chance—

No. There had to be a chance—

"I just wanted to—I'm sorry—"

Why? What happened? What did you do, Tails?

He hadn't even properly seen him off before he left. Tails had been trying to hack into Eggman's satellite remotely while Sonic was out chasing after the faux titans. He told them all about his plan to board the satellite and everyone agreed it sounded like the right call, so long as he could do it quickly. They needed to disrupt the signal, after all, and Tails was their best shot.

That was what he'd said, wasn't it? "You're our best shot, Tails. I believe in you, partner."

Their best shot, but not the only one. Not if it meant this.

Nothing was worth this.

Sonic didn't need to breathe while super, but his lungs still burned twin holes in his chest as his own nervous system caught fire. Golden sparks flicked off his quills as he raced through the air. Fiery eyes frantically scanned each scrap of metal that fell, but they must've already been irritated from the smoke because they burned and blurred with the rest of the world around him—

"—onic, wait! Come back! Sonic!"

One voice.

Super Sonic stopped. He stopped so fast and so suddenly, it felt like his own soul completely missed the memo. Like everything inside him continued to hightails it towards where Tails had been without him, leaving him empty. Hollow. Cold.

A vacuous space in the center of himself where there'd once been something. 

The chaos energy inside him didn't know what to do with that.

With so much… nothing.

Stunned, he could only float in place for a stupid second until he remembered he'd stopped for a reason. With a sharp turn, his stare locked onto a splash of orange amidst the blotchy colors of the rest of the world bleeding into one another. Like he was still moving too fast to see clearly. Like he couldn't catch up to himself.

"Sonic…" Tails's voice broke like it had on the comm, but it wasn't with pain guilt fear regret static.

Vision clearing, Sonic could see him now. At the edge of one of the hills overlooking Westopolis and the bay. Tails just rubbed at his nose with a sheepish sort of grin, like the explosion was a minor miscalculation. A hiccup. My bad, he could hear him saying, like he was standing in the middle of his workshop, covered in soot and singed fur, one hand on his hip and a fire extinguisher at his feet.

Like he was fine.

Like he hadn't been incinerated in the fiery inferno smoldering above them.

Tails lowered his hand, eyes shining as they looked up at him, reflecting the very sky Super Sonic was caught in as the satellite's remains fell all around him. He'd been on that satellite. Just seconds ago, Sonic had been so sure of it.

He'd been so sure he'd lost him…

Then Tails opened his arms to him and laughed.

All at once Sonic crashed back into himself, chest heaving with a sharp inhale as his heart lurched forward. 

Faster than a blink, Super Sonic barrelled into Tails and sent them toppling down the hillside. They smacked hard against the ground, but Sonic took the brunt of the fall even with the world spinning around them. His arms encircled Tails tightly, one hand protecting the back of his head while the other braced the small of his back as they tumbled and whooped like a pair of idiots. Pure joy radiated through him, burning brighter than the chaos energy coursing through his quills. It knocked the emeralds right out of him. The seven gems fell into the grass around them as the two mobians eventually rolled to a stop.

Sonic clutched Tails to him, shaking with breathless laughter as he felt his little brother hug him back just as tightly. "I'm here," Tails was saying, and it took a minute to realize he'd been repeating the words while Sonic's hands were trembling. "I'm here. It's okay, big bro. I'm here. I’m here."

"And you say I'm the one that's gonna give you a heart attack," Sonic wheezed, not bothering to give himself room to breathe if it meant letting go for even a second.

"Can't let you have all the fun." Tails smoothed his hands over Sonic's spines to try and settle him, his touch purposeful and grounding. "Deep breaths, big bro. You're gonna pass out."

"Nuh-uh," he argued, but filled his lungs with his next inhale anyway, then let all the air ease out of him.

"That's it. There ya go," Tails encouraged, but Sonic couldn't help his snort of indignation at being coddled and pushed away from him. 

Except Tails just tightened his grip; fingers curling in his fur like they'd be forced apart if he didn't. He hid his face in the crook of Sonic's neck, his breaths coming only a little too fast. But his hands were shaking, too, and his twin tails wound around them both as if they were enough to protect them from the next threat. 

Sonic didn't pull away. He just sat back, the eleven-year-old practically in his lap, and rested his hand atop Tails's head.

"Gave me a real scare there, pal," he said, voice low and gentle as he smoothed out his fur, picking at the grass and brambles they were both covered in.

"…Scared me, too."

Sonic's heart clenched, the open admission like a bludgeon to his protective instincts, even if his pride assured him Tails could handle it. After all, the proof had all but climbed into his lap. But now that he was looking at him—really looking at him—he could see his fur was mussed up from more than just a tumble at supersonic speed. A streak of blood stained his fur on his shoulder and there was a lump near the center of his back that filled Sonic with an angry fire hot enough to burn through the atmosphere when he so much as brushed against it with his fingers. 

Tails didn't flinch when he grazed it, but his muscles gave an involuntary spasm that rippled beneath his fur and his hold on Sonic tightened. It was enough to quell the roiling rage to a simmer. Something he could stick a lid on without worrying it would boil over if left unchecked. It wasn't what Tails needed from him right now.

But Sonic still wanted some answers.

"What happened up there?" he asked. 

Tails shook his head. "Just a bit of a closer call than I thought it'd be. But I'll be okay. I am okay."

Sonic instinctively bristled, prepared to be shut out of whatever it was he'd gone through. "Tails—"

"I'll tell you someday," he promised, pressing his paw over Sonic's heart. "I mean it. But right now we've got a lot of Eggman's mess to clean up. There's still six other titans out there and I'm sure everyone else is worried."

Sonic sighed, as exasperated as he could manage when he was still just glad this kid was alive. "Gonna hold you to that," he threatened, ruffling his fur to muss it up on purpose. "You owe me. Nearly shocked the Chaos Emeralds right outta my system."

"Says Mr. Guy-Who-Loves-Adventure," Tails teased as he pushed himself up to stand. "You should be used to it by now."

Sonic snorted when he was offered a hand up, but he took it nonetheless. "When I go gray early, I'll know exactly who to blame."

"Don't worry. I'll help you dye your quills, old man," Tails snickered, but it broke off with a wince as a sharp twinge ran through his back.

Sonic was quick to lay a supportive hand at his hip to steady him. "Look who's talking. At this rate, you're gonna be right there with me setting the record for the world's youngest old timers."

Tails sent him a look, but accepted the help nonetheless as he leaned his weight against him. "Did you really have to knock us all the way down the hill like that?"

"Heh. Well, in my defense, wasn't exactly thinking straight." Sonic scratched at his nose, giving him a not-so-subtle onceover. "Didn't bang ya up too bad, did I?"

"Nah. I'll bounce back," Tails assured him, giving him a pat on the back.

"You always do," Sonic agreed warmly as they took a few steps in tandem so they could start collecting the Chaos Emeralds on their way back up the hill while Tails alerted everyone to their status on his comm and checked in on everyone else as well.

Sonic just listened, taking in the rise and fall of his voice, his steady assurances and sighs of relief to hear that the world hadn't fallen apart in his absence. Even if it very nearly did. As far as Sonic was concerned, anyway.

But he was okay now. That was what mattered. And whatever it was that happened on that satellite—whatever reason Tails had for calling him seconds before disaster—he would trust that his little brother would come to him when he was ready. Because he'd be there for him. No matter what.

Keeping his arm looped around Tails’s waist even after they made it back up the hill, Sonic looked up at the smoke still fading from the sky. He tightened his hold on him. It felt like another lifetime, like another him had first seen the explosion and feared the worst. Tails followed his gaze, quiet again with all the calls taken care of and winded from the uphill climb. Through his labored breaths, there was the slightest tremor that traveled from his chest to where he stood pressed against his brother.

"…Scared me, too."

 "Hey, whatever happened up there," Sonic broke the silence, his voice drawing Tails back down beside him. "Whatever you did, I'll bet it was seriously way past cool." He glanced over at him, waiting to catch his eye before giving him a wink.

All too easily, Tails grinned up at him, the shape of his smile the spitting image of his brother's. "Way past is definitely one way to put it."

———

Five years later…

———

"You've been quiet all day, partner. Something going on in that big brain of yours?"

Everyone else had split off for the night. Team Dark vanished sometime after lunch, after Rouge once again tricked Shadow into accompanying her, and Team Chaotix had an appointment for their next case. Amy took Cream back home to Vanilla while Tangle and Whisper left to help Jewel out with some Restoration business.

Which left just Sonic and Tails lounging on the couch; the former picking up where Vector had left off in the game he'd been playing, tapping away at the controller while the latter watched.

Tails hummed in acknowledgement, so Sonic let him have a minute of quiet to collect his thoughts. He picked at one of Whisper's cinnamon muffins, crumbs scattering across the coffee table, but he didn't eat any of it. He hadn't had much of an appetite since slinking out of his lab earlier that afternoon.

It probably had something to do with the quiet and the way he'd been kinda clingy. Sonic had planned on going for a run as soon as Tails retreated back to his lab to tinker with whatever gadgets he had tucked away back there, but he seemed pretty content to stay curled up on the couch beside him. Still, Sonic could adapt. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and slumped back into the cushions as he wandered aimlessly around in a game he couldn't remember owning.

"Do you remember that time you went up against Eggman's seven fake titans?"

Sonic let out a low whistle. "Boy, is that a blast from the past. What about it?" 

When Tails didn't immediately continue, Sonic pressed the pause button, then shifted against the cushion to sit up and face his not-so-little-anymore bro. The sixteen-year-old fox tore his gaze from the screen to watch him instead, eyes bright from television's glow. Looking at him like that, for a split second, Sonic could still see the insecure, little fox kit he used to be in the way his shoulders hunched up as if to make himself smaller. To take up less space in the world.

Sonic draped one arm along the back of the couch, leaving space for him to lean into if he wanted it. No matter how big he got, there'd always be space for him.

Tails scooted closer and rested his head against Sonic's arm. "I needed to disrupt the satellite signal powering the Chaos Emerald vaults, but Eggman locked me out of the remote connection so I had to access it directly—"

"On the actual satellite," Sonic interjected, fingers drumming against the back of the couch. "I remember."

Tails released a long exhale. "Well, he set a trap. A way to slow me down so I wouldn't be able to unlock the emeralds for you in time. The same code that would disrupt the satellite's signal would also cause it to self-destruct. Eggman banked on me having enough self-preservation that I wouldn't engage it without trying to disable that function first."

"But you set it off anyway."

"I set it off anyway," Tails confirmed with a decisive nod. "It was the outcome with the highest percentage of saving people. The fastest way to help you guys. I thought I could get out in time. I should've gotten out in time," his voice lowered, eyes distant as if he was reliving the moment right there on their couch. "But I couldn't. Not on my own. I needed… help."

Sonic tried to follow him there, even if he didn't much like to relive that day in his waking hours. "So you called me."

"Not… exactly." Tails sat up straighter so he could look him in the eye. "I knew you'd come get me if I asked, but then countless lives would've been lost if the titans had gone on unchecked, even if just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes that's all it takes…" Tails's fist clenched as he dropped his hardened gaze to his lap. "I made the call to initiate the self-destruct in order to save people. I couldn't take that back. I couldn't take you away from them. Not again."

A younger Sonic would've snapped at him—would've argued over the value of his life with him until he wasn't the only one blue in the face. But at twenty-three, Sonic had fought more of these battles than he cared to count and never once walked away a winner. So he sat back, held his tongue, and let Tails explain himself.

"I called you to say goodbye," his voice lowered to a whisper, "I wanted to give you that, at least.”

He'd had a feeling. It wasn't one he dwelled on freely, but sometimes the thought wandered in uninvited. Moreso during the first couple of months after the incident, when everything was still fresh and closer to their present.

Before Sonic could respond, Tails pressed forward. "But then an older version of myself traveled through time with two Chaos Emeralds to save me. He said it was the only way. Because at the time, only the two of us knew what transpired on the satellite. We created a temporal paradox, a loop without a proper origin, but as long as it was contained between the two versions of me, nothing could disrupt it. That's why I couldn't tell you before. I wasn't sure… I didn't know if the future version of myself had told you what happened and if that would open up possibilities in the time stream that would botch the encounter entirely." Tails lifted his gaze to seek out Sonic's again, and he could see the eleven-year-old sitting in front of him like it was that very same day. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

"Nothing to apologize for, bud. I get it. I wouldn't want to mess up the time stream for that particular moment either." Sonic shifted the arm draped along the couch so he could cup the back of Tails's head, idly ruffling the fur there. "But if you're telling me all this now…" he drawled, moving to scritch behind Tails's ear. "Charmy wasn't the one who swiped Shadow's Chaos Emerald earlier, was he?"

Tails shrugged, muzzle quirking up on one side. "When he showed up with it today, I just had this feeling that it was time to make my move…" Tails explained. "I've been feeling it for a couple weeks now, to be honest. I had all the equipment I'd had on me that day and I looked close enough to how I remembered. I knew I probably had to go back soon. Just needed everything to align so no one would interfere. Today seemed good…"

Sonic tilted his head as Tails trailed off, his eyes still a little distant. "Well, you made it back in one piece, didn't you? Mission accomplished."

"Yeah. Mission accomplished," he echoed, but whatever was on his mind continued to fester. "I thought I made a mistake."

"Hm?"

"There were only three seconds left," Tails whispered. "I thought I messed it all up. I thought I killed us both—"

"You—"

"I was so sure it would work because it already had, but there was still the possibility I could've gotten it wrong. I could've caused a split in our realities. Created two timelines where I ceased to exist, except in this one no one would've known what happened to me and two of the Chaos Emeralds would be lost to time. How would any of you have known where to look?" Tails rambled, pressing his hands over his face. "I estimated the time of day with a standard deviation of a couple of seconds, but those seconds could've been what killed us—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Sonic hushed, shifting to wrap both arms around his little brother as he slumped against him. "You didn't. You're here. You're right here with me, see?" He gave him a firm squeeze, smile tugging at his muzzle as Tails hugged him back tightly. "Atta boy."

"Stupid…" he mumbled into Sonic's shoulder. "Why does this still work so well?"

"Heh. What're big brothers for?" Sonic huffed out a chuckle. "Listen, you can't live a life of what-ifs, bud. It'll drive you outta your mind. I should know. And I know you know that, too." He felt Tails's nod against his cheek. "You did exactly what you set out to do. And heck, you used the Chaos Emeralds to travel through time! When did you learn how to do that, huh? Holding out on your big bro?"

Tails snorted, but it got him to relax enough to pull back. "Figured if I could use Chaos Control, time travel was just an added boost. Like adding a supercharger to the Tornado's engine."

"Tch. You figured." Sonic rolled his eyes, but the warmth in them was nothing but fond. "Give yourself a little more credit. You did something incredible today, Tails. You defied time and space to save yourself. And not only that, you gave yourself a future to look forward to. Because who wouldn't want to turn out to be like you?"

It was Tails's turn to roll his eyes, though it was his own chuckle that betrayed him. "That's what I told me."

"And wiser words were never spoken," Sonic assured him as he gave his knee a firm pat.

"I dunno. Could make a case for the consequences of rewriting timelines and creating unsustainable permutations of past and future events." Tails grinned.

"Now you’re just being smart," Sonic snorted.

"Well, I am a genius." Tails bumped his shoulder to Sonics. "But I also learned from the best. Even eleven-year-old me picked up on that."

"Well, he's a genius, too. He knows what's up." Sonic slung his arm around Tails’s shoulder, this time his turn to watch as his brother picked up the video game controller to continue where Sonic left off. 

He let him, taking his turn to be content as he watched Tails figure out the game faster than he did and go farther than Sonic could. They said nothing for a few minutes, Tails working out the rest of his pent up feelings through the game while Sonic quietly processed what he'd just been told. He wasn't a stranger to time travel, not by a long shot, but even so, it wasn't what he thought the answer to that day had been. As much faith he had in his best friend, his self-sacrificial tendencies were something he couldn't help but take notice of. After all, he'd learned from the best, hadn't he?

But it wasn't with bitterness or disdain when he set his gaze on the teen beside him. That wasn't possible; not when he saw every age at once. Not when he was in absolute awe of how far his kid had come. 

"Tails."

"Sonic," Tails answered instinctively, matching his tone with the hint of a crooked smile.

"Thanks for saving him."

Tails blinked and paused the game so he could look at Sonic. In the light from the television screen, green eyes glimmered with a depth that took him back to a younger version of his big bro, who was trying to do everything in his power to be there for him. Because he wanted to be. Because he needed to be.

One tail curled around Sonic's back and draped over his lap, giving back the same reassurance he always gave so freely.

"Anytime, big bro."

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

chapter four

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[ghostlyglimmer]

White Noise by GhostlyGlimmer

Summary:

Phantom didn't mean to do it. He didn’t mean to exist like this, raw and unfiltered, a storm given shape. He didn’t mean to lose himself. But every time he tried to be Danny, the signal broke.

Jazz never believed in ghosts. Not really. Not the way her parents did, with their endless gadgets and crackpot theories. Not the way the town did, with their terrified whispers of Phantom—the electric specter that haunted Amity Park like a living storm.

She believed in Danny.

She believed in the hollow ache in her chest when the accident happened, in the empty seat at the dinner table that no one would talk about. She believed in the way Sam and Tucker never quite smiled anymore, how their conversations were full of sharp edges and unfinished sentences.

She believed in the static.

It started small. A flickering streetlamp when she walked home. A burst of static in her earbuds that made her flinch. Her phone screen distorting for a second, showing glimpses of something—someone—who wasn’t there.

Then came the radio.

She found it in the attic, an old, bulky thing from the 80s that their dad had tossed aside in favor of his more modern ghost-hunting equipment. The first time she turned it on, all she got was dead air. The second time, static. The third—

"I don’t know how to come back."

The words came distorted, stretched thin like they’d traveled too far to reach her properly. The voice—God, the voice. It wasn’t quite Danny’s, but it wasn’t not his, either.

Jazz nearly dropped the radio.

She tried again the next night. And the next. It wasn’t always clear, but the words never changed.

"I don’t know how to come back."

She started to believe that maybe he never left.

Amity Park called him Phantom.

They feared him, more than the other ghosts, more than anything else that stalked the streets at night. Because Phantom wasn’t just a ghost—he was a phenomenon. A presence that made the air taste of burnt ozone, that made neon signs shatter when he passed. He wasn’t like the other ghosts, bound by their own rules. He didn’t just fight—he erased.

The GIW tried to capture him once. Their containment units shorted out the moment he got near, exploding in violent sparks. The agents barely escaped, faces blistered from the sudden burst of heat.

Ghosts feared him even more.

The first time Skulker tried to hunt him, his ectosuit fried, leaving him a twitching mess of sparking metal. Ember’s guitar wailed with a feedback scream and exploded in her hands. Technus fled at the mere sight of him.

Phantom didn't mean to do it.

He didn’t mean to exist like this, raw and unfiltered, a storm given shape. He didn’t mean to lose himself.

But every time he tried to be Danny, the signal broke.

He could barely hold onto the memories. They flickered in and out, like static, like old television snow. He remembered running home from school, Jazz ruffling his hair, Sam rolling her eyes at Tucker’s jokes. He remembered dying, sort of—except he never stopped. Never crossed over. Just became this.

This thing.

This force of nature that couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop.

Jazz was going to find him.

She kept the radio close, fiddling with the knobs, trying to pick up anything else. Some nights, the signal was stronger. She could hear his voice layered over itself, overlapping fragments of thought.

"Jazz."

"Help."

"I can’t feel anything."

She chased the static, walking the empty streets at night, ignoring the way the lights flickered around her. Ignoring the way the shadows moved.

And then—

She saw him.

He wasn’t human.

His body was skeletal with marred charred skin stretched taut all over, with cracks of ectoplasm on his left arm. Made of crackling energy, barely contained in a vaguely humanoid shape. His eyes were endless pits of green light, burning like overcharged circuits. She stepped closer, her hair lifted from the static charge in the air.

He turned toward her.

And then—his form glitched. His shape wavered, flickering between something—someone—else. For half a second, she swore she saw her brother.

“Danny,” she whispered.

The storm hesitated.

Lightning cracked through the air, arcing from his fingertips to a nearby streetlamp. The bulb exploded, glass shattering across the pavement.

“Danny, it’s me,” she tried again, stepping forward. The static in the air made her skin tingle, but she didn’t stop.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. Just a noise, distorted and fractured, like an old recording breaking apart. Then, softer—

"I don’t know how to come back."

She gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll bring you back.”

For the first time in what felt like eternity, Phantom stayed still.

And in the distance, an old radio crackled to life.

[tinyshyteacup]

Tw: cussing, tooth rotting fluff

Part 21

A Charming Detour - Part 22

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his hands were sweaty, and he knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't fucking help it.

Juice’s brain decided to just malfunction.

He saw you standing in the kitchen, your back turned, casually reaching for a mug in the cabinet.

Okay.

Breathe. Just—tell her the plan.

“Hey, babe—uh, so, I was thinking—”

You turned around, looking at him with that sweet, soft expression, and Juice panicked.

“I mean—fuck, okay, don’t—don’t say anything yet,” he rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just—just hear me out, okay?”

You blinked.

Juice kept rambling.

“So, like, I know we didn’t really do the whole, uh, dating thing—’cause, y’know, fake marriage, then—then feelings, which is totally ass-backwards, but, uh—” He let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Whatever, that’s not the point.”

You tilted your head slightly, listening, which only made him more anxious.

“Like, an actual date. No club shit, no favors, no—none of the fake stuff. Just—me and you. I, uh—tonight” he blurted.

You blinked again.

Juice swallowed hard.

“So?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

There was a pause.

Then—

Your lips parted slightly, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face before you spoke.

“Juice… we have work tomorrow.”

Juice froze.

His stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

Juice stared at you for a second, scrambling to process.

Because—

Fuck, he didn’t even think about work.

He was too busy being a lovesick moron to remember that you both had responsibilities.

“I mean,” you continued, biting your lip, “I’d love to, but I don’t think a late night out is a great idea.”

Juice felt something in his chest sink—but before he could get too deep into his own disappointment, you took a step closer.

“But…” You smiled softly, looking up at him. “How about takeout and video games?”

Juice blinked.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a little shy now. “It’s not a date-date, but… it’s still just us, right?”

Juice’s brain stalled.

Because holy shit.

That was—

That was even better.

"We could save your idea though, until the weekend ?" You said, hopefully

Juice had spent the whole day stressing about where to take you, how to impress you, what the perfect first date should be.

But the truth was—

You didn’t need some big, extravagant night out.

You just wanted him.

His shoulders slumped in relief, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Babe,” he exhaled. “That’s—fuck, that’s perfect.”

You giggled softly. “Yeah?”

Juice nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

Because nothing—nothing—sounded better than a night on the couch, eating shitty takeout and kicking your ass in video games.

Or, more likely, you kicking his ass—but whatever. He’d take it.

The smell of greasy fries and takeout containers filled the living room as Juice flopped onto the couch beside you, controller in hand.

“Alright, baby,” he said, nudging you playfully. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

You let out a huff, curling up beside him. “Oh, please. I’m way better than you.”

Juice snorted. “Oh, now you talk shit? Alright. Let’s go.”

The game loaded, and you both settled into a comfortable rhythm—laughing, teasing, stealing each other’s food between rounds.

And Juice—

Juice couldn’t stop staring at you.

Because you looked so happy.

So at ease.

And this was actually real.

He felt something warm spread through his chest.

Juice was not cool.

He knew that.

But fuck, he was trying.

It started when you leaned over to grab a fry from his container—totally stealing his food, but he couldn’t even be mad because your sweater slipped off your shoulder a little, and it was so distracting.

Juice’s brain short-circuited.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

You paused, blinking at him mid-bite. “What?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Uh. Say something smooth. Say something—

“Your—your, uh—” He gestured vaguely at your shoulder, floundering. “It’s—uh, you’re—”

You glanced down in confusion, then tilted your head. “Juice, what are you saying?”

Juice panicked.

“Your skin,” he blurted, way too loud. “I mean—it’s, uh, soft.”

There was a beat of silence.

You stared at him.

Juice stared back.

Oh my god.

What the fuck did he just say?

Your lips twitched, and then—

You burst into laughter.

Juice groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“I—” You wheezed, clutching your stomach. “My skin?”

“Shut up,” Juice whined. “It was supposed to be a compliment!”

“I mean—thank you?” you giggled, still watching him struggle. “That’s so—God, you’re adorable.”

Juice died inside.

A little later, you were curled up against him, casually scrolling through something on your phone while Juice tried to act normal on 1V1 mode.

Which was hard.

Because every time you shifted, every time your leg brushed against his, every time you tucked yourself a little closer to him—

Juice had to remind himself how to breathe.

But then—then he had an idea.

He saw an opening.

You stretched, arms lifting above your head, letting out a soft little sigh—

And Juice, in a very brave (and totally not well-thought-out) moment, decided to pull you back down against him.

Smooth. Casual. Effortless.

Or at least—

That was the plan.

What actually happened was—

He miscalculated horribly.

His arm yanked too hard, and instead of a cute, flirty moment—

You yelped and practically toppled into his lap.

Juice panicked.

“Shit—fuck—sorry, babe, I—”

You blinked up at him, stunned, your hands gripping his shirt.

Juice’s brain blue-screened.

Because—because you were so close.

Your nose nearly brushed his, your wide eyes looking up at him, your lips right there, and—

Juice forgot how to function.

“Uh.”

Silence.

You tilted your head, face crimson.

Juice swallowed.

And then you—

You just settled.

"This ok Juice?" You ask in that soft little voice.

Like it didn’t completely ruin him.

Juice nodded and barely managed to keep his brain from exploding.

Later, Juice was mindlessly playing with your fingers, tracing circles on your palm while you rested against his chest.

It was so easy to just be with you.

So easy that—

He kind of forgot to keep his mouth shut.

“You know I'm pretty sure I'm in love you.” he murmured absently.

Silence.

Juice blinked.

Then froze, realised what he said.

Then panicked.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

His heart stopped.

He did not just—

Slowly—very slowly—you shifted agasint him.

Juice stared at you, horrified.

He panicked.

“I mean—fuck,” he rushed, voice cracking. “I mean, like—not—not in, like, a weird way, just in a—I mean, not that it’d be weird if I did, but I just—” He wheezed. “Oh my god, kill me.”

Juice stared at the ceiling, heart racing.

He was so fucked.

Then—

He dared to look down.

Your eyelashes fanned your cheeks.

Your fist was curled up under your cheek.

Breathing even.

Holy shit.

You

You where asleep.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

And Juice?

He was freaking out.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a holy shit, I get to hold her kind of way.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, heart hammering against his ribs.

Your cheek was pressed against his shirt now, your fingers loosely curled against his chest. You looked so peaceful like this, so soft and warm and—

Fuck, he was in trouble.

Carefully—so carefully—he shifted, easing an arm beneath your legs before scooping you up entirely.

And immediately—

You whined in your sleep, instinctively burying your face against his throat.

Juice’s entire brain blue-screened.

His arms locked up, breath catching as your nose nudged against his skin, warm and trusting and—

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

This was dangerous.

Juice wasn’t sure what made him do it.

Maybe it was the way you sighed when he tucked you under the covers.

Maybe it was the way you rolled towards him instinctively, like even in your sleep, you wanted to be close to him.

Or maybe—

Maybe it was just the fact that you were his now, and for the first time, he didn’t have to pretend this whole thing was fake.

Either way—

He hesitated for way too long.

He was so used to trying to keep space between you in bed. You’d slept next to each other a bunch of times before, but always with a boundary—a line neither of he had never crossed.

But now?

Now, you were actually dating.

Now, he had every right to reach for you.

Right?

And the second he did—

You melted against him.

Juice sucked in a sharp breath as your body pressed flush against his, tucking yourself right under his chin like it was natural.

And it was.

Too natural.

Too easy.

Too perfect.

Juice’s throat went dry, heart pounding as he let his arms wrap around you fully, drawing you closer.

And the worst part?

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest like you belonged there.

Juice was the human embodiment of a dial tone.

Juice tried to be smooth.

He really did.

But the thing was—

His brain stopped working whenever you were this close.

It started with his fingers lightly tracing up and down your back—innocent, just casual, nothing weird.

And then, in a very bold move, he tipped his head just slightly so his lips brushed your hair.

Soft.

You shifted at the touch, stirring just enough to murmur, “Mm… Juice?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Abort. Abort.

“Uh—nothing, baby,” he rushed, way too guilty. “Go back to sleep.”

You hummed sleepily, eyes barely open. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. “I was just—uh—” He scrambled for an excuse. “You—you smell nice.”

Silence.

Then—

Your lips twitched.

Juice panicked.

Oh no.

You were fully awake now.

And you were grinning.

Juice groaned, immediately hiding his face in your shoulder. “Oh my god.”

You giggled. “I smell nice?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

You giggled harder.

You were warm.

That was the problem.

You were all soft limbs and gentle touches, your fingers absentmindedly brushing along his wrist, his arms and fuck—Juice was so gone for you.

“I like this,” you murmured sleepily.

Juice swallowed. “Yeah?”

You nodded against his chest. “Feels… safe.”

Something in his chest ached.

His arms tightened around you without thinking, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed a slow, almost reverent kiss to the top of your head.

“I got you, baby,” he murmured before he could stop himself. “Always.”

You hummed softly, completely at ease, and Juice—

Juice realized too late what he’d just said.

Oh shit.

Oh, shit.

His heart stopped.

Did you hear that?

Was it too much.

Did you—did you realize—

But no—your breathing had already evened out again, your body loose and trusting against his.

Juice exhaled.

He was so in trouble

[absoluteangsty]

Ah so this guys was being literal with the term. When will people know its a catchphrase or something along those lines. Like hell she would want some sort of vampire to give her a chomp or something. Murder Drones and herself were kind of vampire like already. Ugh, people these times. Though it looks like he was caught off guard by the whole 'hide the body' thing she spoke about. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow about these... Plant like creatures.

"Well lets just hope they dont come back and wanting a piece of us. Guess that count as hiding some kind of body? But plant based-"

Seems like most things are plant based now-

“Uhm, no. I don’t think I will. If ya wanna get bitten, I can recommend NOS-4-A2  the energy vampire to you. An extraordinary creature and the epitome of charm and sheer excitement, trust me.”

Just the mere mention of a body causes a slight shift within him. His gaze falters. A body? Never before has he entertained the idea of attempting to store one within him. It never crossed his mind, nor did he ever have the need to do so.

“Do the LGM count? They sometimes sneak in-” Almost as if on cue, one of the LGM (luckily equipped for this toxic planet) pops out from inside him, swiftly saluting and disappearing just as quickly. XR watches them scuttle away, maneuvering his wheels to move closer towards Uzi, gesturing for her to lean in as if sharing a forbidden secret.

“Lil’ buggers have no concept of personal space.”

[absoluteangsty]

@bytepire

She is gonna cover her sister's mouth gently.

"Zi, my boyfriend can't spell- So if its something that we wanna talk about we have to spell it out. He gets excited when he hears T-R-E-A-T-"

[b1rds3ye]

Hellooo‼️‼️I just stumbled in your blog and I saw the LED mask request thing and I suddenly have brainrot😭😭 it's such a idea idfk i just love it‼️‼️

ANYWAY🤯 reader comes back from a mission, solo or not! Is up to you :] and then they just have a bullet stuck in their mask. Just straight up a bullet stuck, very big cracks on their mask. It can still kind of work, only one side so when they see them reader simply waves while the other half of their LED mask just shows: ':D' as if there wasn't a bullet in their mask.

That's all! I hope you are having a good day, afternoon, or night‼️‼️make sure to stay hydrated because I'm a walking desert☺

THATS SUCH A BITTERSWEET IMAGE THOUGH, I LOVE YOUR BRAIN ANON!!

A part of the operation had to be done solo by you - it needed your specialised skill set and it was too risky sending others with you because stealth was crucial. You succeeded in distracting the enemy. That transmission was half an hour ago.

The 141 never leave their own behind, the extraction point is far enough from enemy territory that they can spare some time to wait for you. Price and Ghost are going through extra logistics, Soap is distracting himself by disassembling and reassembling gear and Gaz is just... watching. Watching for a sign that you are there. And soon enough, amongst the fog of dust kicked up by fallen buildings and bodies, is the silhouette of you. The faint LEDs emanate a light that refract off the dust, creating a halo-like glow where your head should be.

As you approach closer, it is silent. There are no light-hearted quips from you, just the audible crunch of your combat boots against the dry earth. If it weren't for your unmistakable stature and gait, the rest of the 141 would have thought it was an imposter who had stolen your mask.

Johnny only utters a quiet "Jesus..." as the details of your mask come into view. A bullet was now embedded in your mask where the side of your temple would be, a chilling reminder of the clutches of death you narrowly escaped from for now. It shone maliciously against your darkened mask that could only let out the occasional spark and whir of short circuiting.

Every few seconds, there would be a flicker of the LEDs working. It was hard to distinguish with the cracks that splayed across the mask like a web, all stemming from the bullet that had made itself at home millimeters away from your head. An eye was missing, that section of your mask completely disconnected from the software. Broken circuitry had the odd pixel flickering in a false positive in various colours before dying.

But despite the stakes, your mask was smiling.

"You broken?" Gaz asked tentatively.

You pause in comtemplation, perhaps the voice amplifier in your mask was fried or you're just too tired to speak - none of the 141 would blame you for either. Instead, you offer a thumbs up before trudging over to Ghost, his eyes trained on you. You rest your forehead against his shoulder and he responds with a slight grunt, but he surrenders to your tired antics. Tilting your head to the rest of the 141, your broken mask flits to a "z_z".

There's a pat on your back from John, both to comfort and to also make sure you don't fall asleep. His hand settles on your shoulder, strong and ready to haul you to the helicopter.

"Good to have you back, Sergeant. Let's get you - and your mask - patched up."

With some encouragement from Johnny and Kyle, you're coaxed to extraction. As you sit on the ride back on base, you bring a hand to probe the damage of the bullet. The metal is colder than death, so smooth it slipped from your grip like your own life had you conducted in the mission any differently. It seems the rest of the 141 knew exactly what you were thinking as your fingers traced every crack of your visor.

But before they can question you, you retract your hand and sit up straight. You're here and you're alive. Granted a little cracked, your soul a little more jaded than in the few hours prior, but for now the legend of the mask lives on.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[lovelymylene]

Would absolutely love some more teenage dirtbag hamzah.. maybe smth like meeting/getting to know his friends (aka Martin n Mandy)

The Booth at BENNY’S

70s hamzah..

The first time you meet Hamzah’s friends, it’s at some dimly lit pizza joint called Benny’s, the kind of place with cracked red vinyl booths and a jukebox that only half works. The whole place smells like melted cheese and grease, and the floors are just sticky enough to remind you that generations of teenagers have sat exactly where you are now, huddled in a booth, stealing fries off each other’s plates, talking about nothing and everything at once.

Hamzah’s next to you, his arm draped lazily along the back of the seat, fingers just barely grazing your shoulder. It’s casual, but it’s something. He keeps glancing at you like he’s trying to read your expression, make sure you’re okay, because Martin is a lot. He’d warned you about that on the way over.

“He overstimulates people,” Hamzah had said, cigarette balanced between his lips as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping out some invisible rhythm against his knee. “Talks too much, says weird shit, but he means well. And Mandy’s cool. She’s just—” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’ll see.”

Now, you see.

Martin is across from you, mid-story about the time he saw a guy punch through a vending machine because his Snickers got stuck. He’s reenacting the whole thing, wild gestures, full sound effects, even a dramatic recreation of the guy’s emotional breakdown afterward. “Dude fell to his knees, right there in the hallway. Hands bleeding, Snickers in his mouth, just sobbing. It was beautiful.”

You’re not sure if the story is real, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s entertaining.

Mandy is next to him, sipping her soda like she’s heard this one before. Which, she probably has. She catches you watching her and just smirks, leaning in a little. “Don’t let him overwhelm you. If you ignore him long enough, he short-circuits.”

“I do not,” Martin protests, offended.

She just raises an eyebrow and turns back to you. “So. What’s your deal?”

Hamzah shifts beside you, like he’s nervous about what you’ll say, but you just tell her the basics, where you’re from, what you do, how you met Hamzah. The last part gets Martin’s attention.

“Wait, wait, wait— let me guess,” he interrupts, squinting dramatically at you. “You saw him from across the room, all broody and mysterious, and just had to know who he was.”

Hamzah groans, kicking him under the table. “Shut the fuck up.”

Martin grins, undeterred. “Or—or maybe he said some deep poetic shit and won you over, huh? That sounds like him. Just staring at the stars, all like, ‘You ever think about how small we are in the grand scheme of things?’

You snort, shaking your head. “Actually, he just asked if I had a lighter.”

Martin slams his fist on the table like you’ve just told him the greatest joke of all time. “CLASSIC.”

Hamzah groans again, sinking lower into the booth, but you can tell he’s smiling a little.

The conversation keeps flowing, movies, music, the weirdest things you’ve ever seen on public transport. Martin jumps from topic to topic like a pinball, Mandy rolling her eyes but still smirking at him like she secretly finds it funny. Hamzah mostly listens, watching you more than he watches them, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll laugh at the right moments, if you’ll understand their inside jokes, if you’ll, fit.

And you do.

Somewhere between stealing the last slice of pizza off Hamzah’s plate and making Mandy laugh with some dumb story about your childhood, you realize you’re not nervous anymore. You like them. And, maybe more importantly, they like you.

Hamzah nudges your knee under the table, subtle but warm, and when you glance over, he’s already looking at you. Soft. Happy. Like he knew this would work out all along.

taglist.. @italiansunsetss @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo @yearlyism

[woradat]

LICK YOUR WOUNDS

SUMMARY - loser got patch up. That's all I can tell u

PARING - black shadow/reader

(reworked/edit version)

Actions have consequences. Blackshadow had always known that. Whether it was raiding random ships in deep space or casually committing mass murder on Autobot battlegrounds at Megatron's behest—he never really felt bad about it. That was the job

He knew exactly what he signed up for when he joined the Decepticons

Instead of caring about the noble ideals or grand vision of the faction, he mostly cared about one thing: himself. And the profits. That was it. Yes, he was that selfish—but who wasn’t, really? Blackshadow just wasn’t ashamed to show it off in the most brutal, over-the-top way possible. And that, conveniently, was also the excuse he used when the Autobots once bribed him with a frankly obscene amount of credits

And as I said, actions have consequences

Phase-sixer would surely regret his poor life choices eventually—and he did, the moment he saw DJD in his line of sight

.

.

You found it mildly—okay, maybe more than mildly—frustrating when you realized Phase-sixer wasn’t offline yet, despite very much needing to be. His condition was so bad that even the thought of reusing or recycling his body parts felt like trying to repurpose a toaster after it went through a supernova

Still, with a shred of pity you somehow hadn’t burned out yet, you decided to help. Not too much, of course—you weren’t about to throw resources at a bot that looked like he’d been chewed up by a black hole and spat out sideways

If he got better, great—miracle of the century. If not? Well, there were probably still some parts left you could make use of. Legs. Maybe an arm. A wire or two

Dragging his wreck of a body onto the ship without turning him into even more of a scrap heap was a challenge on its own. And the missing parts? That was a scavenger hunt from hell. Honestly, you might’ve felt a pang of sympathy for what he’d gone through—if he hadn’t been such a monumental jerk during the war. But hey, you tried to help. That’s got to count for something, right?

“Primus—he really refuses to die, huh…”

The first few repair attempts? A disaster. Phase-sixer wasn’t showing even a hint of recovery. His systems—thankfully still salvageable, or he’d be space dust—were an absolute nightmare: circuits fried, networks glitchier than a bootleg holovid, fuel lines shredded, wires doing interpretive dance, and metal that looked like it lost a fight with a sun. Disgusting. But all you could do was complain while servos kept working away on this pathetic excuse for a bot

.

.

Pain. That was the first thing Blackshadow noticed. Everything hurt. His systems were slowly rebooting, and it honestly felt like his circuits had been deep-fried and then stabbed for good measure. Electric jolts shot through him like sparks with a grudge. His limbs were numb, paralyzed, and honestly? He didn’t want to find out how much it’d hurt if he could move. His processor crawled to catch up, dragging in fragmented memories of the catastrophe that had landed him in this mess, trying to assess his surroundings. Where the frag was he?

His optics still worked, barely. The right one was cracked to hell, giving him a distorted view that made everything look like a nightmare through a funhouse mirror. He shut them instead, focusing on the persistent, burning ache from his last encounter with—ugh—those DJD bastards. Loyal lapdogs of Megatron, bringing justice with a chainsaw. He should have been angry, but he was too exhausted to feel anything that complicated

...Shouldn’t he be dead by now?

He forced his remaining good optic open, just to get a read on where the universe had dumped him this time

Some kind of lab or medbay, maybe. White. Sterile. Looked like the inside of a stasis pod got into a fight with a hospital and lost. A wave of brief relief hit him—until he realized he wasn’t dead, which meant someone had saved him. Whoever it was either had serious medical talent… or the universe had pulled off a miracle and was now just showing off. Either way, he kind of wished they hadn’t bothered. This was the kind of pain that made death sound like a spa day

“You’re awake. I see. How you feeling?”

“Hurts like hell, right? Of course it does. You were a wreck when I found you. Like—half a bot, literally! You were missing a leg! But I found it. Took some doing. Honestly, would’ve been easier to just bolt a new one on, but hey”

Blackshadow gave you a skeptical glance, equal parts confused and annoyed. You talked too much. Sounded a little too proud of yourself. It reminded him uncomfortably of himself—back when he wasn’t a pile of pain with attitude. His brow furrowed instinctively, and you noticed

“Oh, so you can hear me! Can you talk, big guy?”

You sounded amused, not serious at all. But really—who takes a dying bot seriously?

Phase-sixer's silence said enough. He was pretty sure his voicebox still worked, but just thinking about speaking sent a shock of pain through every fried wire and scorched servo. Even twitching his neck felt like asking the universe to kick him in the spark again

Pathetic

And you seemed to realize that—your tone softened a little, your expression shifting into something almost sympathetic

“Worse than I thought, huh? But don’t worry. You’re in good hands”

Oh great, sympathy. Just what every Decepticon war veteran wants to hear while he’s flat on his back, being pitied by someone who clearly thinks “bedside manner” is a personality trait. Part of him wanted to scoff. Maybe even crack a joke. If he were feeling better, he probably would have. But he wasn’t. And he couldn’t deny… something about it—your tone, your words—actually made him feel slightly better. Warmer, somehow. Safer

Which was ridiculous

Phase-sixer, feared enforcer of the Decepticons, taking comfort from some nobody bot who'd dragged him back from the brink? If someone had told him that back in the day, he would’ve laughed in their face

Now? All he could do was lie there, lick his wounds, and hope to either recover… or die properly this time

Strange, though—he didn’t mind so much when your hand gently touched his frame, steady and reassuring, just for a moment

[heckcareoxytwit]

The battle rages on as the X-Men fighting the three Nimrods at different places - Sentinel City, New York and Washington DC. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Cyclops, Colossus, Rogue, Gambit and Monet are fighting the main Nimrod in Sentinel City. Emma Frost and Synch are battling a Nimrod duplicate in New York. Whereas Polaris and Magneto are facing the Nimrod duplicate in Washington DC. Magik and Eden Fesi try to join into the fray but they get shot by Nimrod (I don't know which one though).

While they are fighting Nimrod, Cyclops and Nightcrawler are wandering around the burning Sentinel City. Nightcrawler confirms to Cyclops that he has destroyed the thrusters and Nimrod/Omega Sentinel won't be able to repair them before the orbit decays. Nightcrawler asks how they're going to kill something that exists in multiple places and Cyclops says they'll have to do it all at once. "Under that armor, it's just… electricity." Then, Kwannon telepathically chimes in saying Colossus got punched out into space and he's almost out of sight. Cyclops tells Nightcrawler to go and he teleports away to save Colossus. Cyclops then goes off to challenge Nimrod. In the control room, Omega Sentinel tries to regain control of the station when Rogue busts through the floor asking if Karima has lost every last shred of her humanity. Omega Sentinel says Xavier cut a deal that the X-Men would get to live on their little island but they're too dense and prideful so she'll have to kill them including Xavier who she'll kill last. Kwannon sneaks up behind and nails Omega Sentinel with a psychic knife, leaving the cyborg mumbling and crying in despair. Rogue is about to stomp her head in but Kwannon stops her, telling her that she fried the Sentinel mind and that Karima's human brain was drowning in regret and pain.

Rogue and Kwannon charge at Nimrod but the robot knocks them out with a blast. He punches the just arriving Colossus away and is about to stomp a knocked out Manifold and Magik but Nightcrawler gets to them first and Cyclops blasts Nimrod away from them. Just as Nimrod could kill more X-Men, the killer robot gets zapped by the timely arrival of Storm. With Storm's lightning zapping the main Nimrod, the Nimrod duplicates are affected too, giving the chance for the other mutants at New York and Washington DC to fight back. The main Nimrod is left to face Storm and Cyclops in Sentinel City when Monet and Omega Sentinel fly in. Omega Sentinel (now with regained humanity) begs at Nimrod to stand down but the killer robot refuses to listen. Cyclops and Storm work together to take down the main Nimrod by cracking the armor and frying the circuits. As the other Nimrod duplicates, they are also defeated by Synch, Polaris and Magneto at different places. As Storm watches as the main Nimrod melting away, Monet arrives with Omega Sentinel and Cyclops says Kwannon is showing him what's going on inside her brain. He tells Omega Sentinel to earn this second chance and she, crying, replies weakly, "Call me Karima." Once the battle is over, the X-Men leave the Sentinel City with Eden Fesi before it explodes.

Fall of the House of X #5, 2024

[sky-forts-and-burning-citadels]

Frore Flames II - Torrid

Summary: It seems even after scraping against death, your love for the seemingly unattainable remains untouched...

Warnings: Hospitals, OOC Geode, thesaurus-level lingo.

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Have fun with Googling the definitions to words, because I definitely forgot about the sheer amount of over-descriptive shit I made ROFL.

Your eyes ached; the darkness of their lids shielding you from the dim lights that threatened to shine past its pitch darkness, morphing the dark shrouds into muted cacophonies of flame-oranges and honey-yellows.

“Hnn…”

You wonder, briefly, if you’re even still alive. The torrid birching of summer had cooked your flesh, fried your mind-circuits and seared your soul…but this didn’t feel like summer.

Your body feels toasty, as if a warm spring breeze was gently caressing its balmy palms over your unmoving form. Gently soothing and healing the harsh burns that summer’s scorching ornery had devastated upon you.

You notice, in your comatose state, that the light has started to grow more radiant, more luminous, more intense; as if a match had been struck inside the gloom and murk of your consciousness, illuminating the umbra in chandeliers of twinkling lights.

You felt yourself gradually commencing the tedious process of reaching the gates of hypnopompia, whilst somewhere far away, a faint beep started piecemealing its way into your mind. Its annoying chiming reverberates in your skull.

Beep…Beep…Beep…

You feel a wave of irritation slash through the numbing murk, shattering the calm into sharp, serrated shards; their whetted edges piercing and dragging their points into the fogged veils of your somnolent state.

If you weren’t waking earlier, you are now.

But your eyelids felt so heavy, so leaden. How could you possibly slip out of your subconsciousness’ anteroom if your body wouldn’t abide by your minds’ commands?

The beeping was becoming more domineering over the murked blur of the quiet noises that encircled your head.

What in the absolute fuck is that shit?

…am I dead? That’d make a lot of sense actually.

The noise began to pulse in your ears, slowly punching your brain-fogged mind into a state of configuration.

You should open your eyes, lift the accursed flesh-lids that curtained them and let the radiance of the world puncture your pupils and blind you.

Aight…MC…you got this girlypop…you got this.

1…2…wait. Nah, that’s fucking stupid. Whoever actually gets up when they count to three is too self-controlled.

What motivates you. That is the query.

Geo…? Geo would whoop my ass for sleeping in.

God he’s fucking awesome.

You hiss, before gingerly opening your weaker eye.

Then you immediately shut it, because, well, your pupils are so used to the shadows that the overhead flare-bright lights have probably blinded them. You wince, a scalding pain begins its fervid assault on your eye socket.

Owie.

You think you swallow. Your throat distinctly — and painfully — aches from the force.

You faintly grimace.

As your cerebrum continues its reboot, your physicality and its wounds become more obvious to you. What once was benumbed progressively became blisteringly arid, parching your skin and clawing at the dried walls of your esophagus.

You think you hear a voice; a heavenly harmony that continues to cautiously pry you from the darkness. A siren, come to guide you towards her island, towards your doom.

But…waking up wouldn’t be your doom, right?

Well. It would be if I happened to be in some psychotic lunatic’s basement. That’d suck.

Either way, you had to assert dominance over your stubborn body.

Okay. Baby steps…baby steps.

You agonisingly slowly begin to open your eyes, aiming to at least squint. Any sign that you were alive was good, especially if you get to hear that beautiful voice again.

Your eyelids pried open a crack, the dazzle of the overhead whites and yellows immediately abusing its power over your weakened eyes.

No…c’mon MC. You’ve got this.

Fortunately, eventually, your eyes began adjusting.

Marvellous. Now…gotta sit up.

You tried to move your arms, testing whether moving them was even a possibility in your current state. You move your focus to your hands, making attempts to flex them or to inch your fingers around, to get a feel for your surroundings.

As soon as your hand left your side, it felt horrifically cold, as if some wraith had exsanguinated all the warmth from your soul and left your body a frore husk. You shamefully retract it into the comfortable cocoon of…blankets?

Oh my god…blankets! I love blankets. Blankets are wonderful.

You felt a surge of joy fill your heart, its unnervingly swift pounding now serving as a steady background drumbeat to the endless, unbounding bliss that you now felt. Alas, the realisation that you needed to alert someone of your consciousness quickly became the priority in your mind.

You also just happened to acknowledge you didn’t have a clue where you fucking were.

You draw in a deep gasp, a thinly veiled storm of frustration suddenly onslaughting your mind, pelting your brain with orders to fucking do something.

“H-. Hell…Hello…?”

Your voice comes out faint and rasped, as if your voice box had rusted to near-irreparability and your tongue had been encased in lead.

“Oh?! Oh my goodness!”

Your ears perk up.

It’s that voice…the pretty one.

The silhouette of a woman comes into view, her head blotting out the ceiling lights and leaving her face anonymous under the shroud of darkness.

“Oh my…I’ll alert the doctor, please relax for now!”

. . .

The next few hours passed by in a blur of boring examinations, excessive interviews with some wacko journalists — who were curious about why the famous, privileged, alleged ‘sex-fiend’ Geo Oogami was seen with you in his car (you were so discombobulated with their choice of nickname that water spouted out your nose like it was a fountain).

Now here you lay, stultified, annoyed and exhausted. The emotional toll it had taken to recall why you decided to lie out in a hailstorm was…immense. You cried multiple times in front of the nurses and doctors, who were demanding every piece of information that they deemed necessary for healing you. Also the consistent beeping of the nearby heart rate monitor was pissing you off, but you understood its pricelessness.

As expected, you had hypothermia, and would have to remain here for at least a week under supervision to ensure your organs and bodily tissues hadn’t suffered any long-lasting or permanent complications.

You were thankfully allowed to read books after about a day, so now at least your crippling, (and very lethal) boredom had a temporary fix.

“MC?”

The angelic voice called out again. The woman – Timea was her name, if you recall correctly — stood in the doorway, before swiftly entering and checking your vitals. After deeming your current state as satisfactory, she turns to you.

“I hear you have a visitor.”

You blinked. You? A visitor? Who the fuck would visit you?

What the shit?

You sit up, the sheets rustling under your weight as you turn to look at the doorway.

And from the unseen depths of the corridor, painted in gilded light, a wild Geo Oogami emerged, his icy turquoise eyes staring right into yours.

You swear you forgot how to breathe.

May God Himself preserve you because if this hypothermia doesn’t kill you, the asphyxiation will. Frankly, you don’t exactly care, you’re too busy gazing upon the angelic, elegant face that belongs to the man who sits at your side.

“...Why.”

His voice was like a gong, short and straight-to-the-point; yet so firm and demanding that it left you stunned.

His eyes were filled with a thousand shards of broken glass, each one having once belonged to a mosaic birthed of the stars themselves. Maybe the mosaic was like his heart, cold and sharply-edged, yet so beautiful you couldn’t help but look at it with love.

Wouldn’t that mean his heart is shattered though?

“Why what?” Your query seems to have stilled the air, stilled the molecules in the entire room. Geo looked like he’d been frozen in time, before his face turned bitterly ornery.

“Why the fuck did I find you sitting practically naked in the middle of a storm, then have to watch as you die in my car, then have to pay over 10 grand in fines for speeding you to this bloody hospital?”

His voice was far more hiemal and frosty than whatever you’d felt during that storm. It was as if 0° Kelvin itself had been personified, given a permafrozen heart and the voice of a cold wind-whip. You shiver slightly, but how could you not? Like before, you were now in the direct vicinity of the princeling of winter himself. A very unhappy one, at that.

It was never a good idea to provoke or challenge the wintry wrath of Geo Oogami. Unfortunately, you weren’t exactly the wisest person to have ever lived; a hot burst of annoyance flashed before your eyes, splattering your peripherals in a thousand shades of crimson and scarlet.

“I had my reasons. There’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.”

The scattered shards in his irises seemed to form into serrated points, each one aimed directly at you, as if his eyes themselves wanted to carve you into pieces.

“Need not worry…? Need. Not. Worry?”

He paused, a small vein prodding under the skin of his temple. You gulped.

“Are you demented?”

He was malding now, a spine-chillingly livid anger in his eyes.

“You could’ve died in my car, under my watch, and it’s not something to be worried about?”

“Aren’t I a nuisance to you either way? What difference would it’ve made if I died?”

The words are caustic for the walls of your mouth, leaving a bitter coating on your tongue. You’d thought this way for years, yet having your thoughts be thrown into the expanse of the real world, in front of a real man was…different. Especially considering the fact you idolised, respected…maybe even loved this man.

His face was a vial; a potion concocted of shock, disdain and woe slowly morphing the fury into a condensed cloud of sorrow. One that was now waiting to let loose its tears, to pour rain onto the barren soils of the earth beneath.

“How dare you.”

And so, Winter himself looked you in the eye, piercing the veil of whatever hallowed thing was keeping your emotions safely hidden. The aquamarine depths seemed to be slowly exsanguinating you of reason, of any form of logical function. You wanted to drown in them.

Aight. MC. Stop staring at him, he already resents you, he doesn’t need you to fawn over him like that.

You decide to survey the room you were in, it would be easier than continuing to peer into the unknown depths of his eyes.

White walls. White tiled floor. A couple of pretty paintings. Some fake plants.

A slender bejewelled hand firmly latched onto your chin, steadily, almost like the arms on a clockface, he moved your head towards his.

His hand feels tense, his gelid fingertips bruising the warmth of your flesh. To your left, the bed seems to sink, as if a weight had been strapped unto it.

You still don’t look at him, instead opting to (cautiously) check out his thighs. They were covered by his usual dark pants, the brown fabric ripped and torn in a multitude of places.

God he’s so beautiful.

“You are as much of a nuisance to me as I am unstylish — not in the slightest.”

His voice was monotone, yet — unlike earlier — within its melodious notes was a soft melancholic chime; as if his voice had revamped itself into the epitome of dejection and despondency.

You were as astonished as he was uncomfortable.

Then you felt yourself lose every manner of self control as you began to sob your ghastly heart out.

Fucks’ sake MC. Can’t do jackshit right can you?

You feel a few torrid tears leap over the cliffs of your eyelids and crash onto his pale flesh. His eyes follow the wet trails down your face, before smearing it across your cheek.

You felt yourself losing grip over your mind again, trying to catch onto the grains of whatever cognition you had.

Whatever your brain had repressed from that horrific night was flooding through your consciousness, sweeping you off your feet and leaving you stranded on an island in the storm that was your eternal, unbounding sorrow.

But you supposed that’s one of the reasons why you loved Geo oh-so much. He was cold, hard logic; an anchor for your restless, maladaptive thoughts. His chill soothed the hot anger that pulsed beneath you, both from your fate and at the world for stuffing you into a school where you’d never thrive.

But destiny had its ways, you suppose; for even the most treacherous, onerous and dolorous of winters will eventually (and willingly) surrender to the balmy nature of a newborn spring.

“Whatever it was that led you to commit such a stupid act…I hope you can one day entrust me with the context and reasons.”

“That almost sounds like you care, Geode.”

“Hm. Perhaps.”

You feel his hand, rings and all, land atop your head; before gently, softly, stroking your hair. The tears still fell down your face, but the despair slowly fell muted as you gingerly placed your head on Geo’s shoulder and closed your eyes.

If you’d had your way, you would’ve squished him to death, but you couldn’t afford to push this. Whatever this was.

“Promise me something, MC.”

There’s that monotone voice again…

You give a small thumbs-up in affirmation.

“Promise me that you’ll come to me before you resort to such an extreme act. No matter how stupid it may be to you.”

He lowers his hand, it now lurking near yours; and you feel a small ray of confidence shine through the murk of your paranoia.

“...okay.”

And now, cautiously, almost as if fate Herself was puppeting you; you felt your hand grasp the slender fingers of him.

Touch him, partake in a quick, fleeting moment of heavenly contact.

To your surprise?

It wasn’t short, or brief, or sudden.

It felt more purposeful than every breath you’d fucking taken, hell even Geo looked a tad astounded by the prolonged contact.

Your soul feels a little lighter now.

Maybe the enigmatic winter himself would learn to accept the dawn of a flowery, dainty spring. Maybe he’d even accept himself. And hopefully you’d accept yourself too.

[absoluteangsty]

OH FUCK- Guess Uzi should of thought about it a second time before playing with fire. V wasn't someone to be messing around in the first place. But she couldn't help it, just out of spite. At least she didn't get shot up. Now Uzi has the gross yellow-ish substance on her hands. And a tad bit on her clothes. YUCK. She began to shake her hand off slightly.

"Ahaha... Ahahah... Yeah you sure did-"

RUN BITCH. RUN

That did it.

BANG BANG!

Without any warning whatsoever, and completely ignoring the 'five seconds' part, V suddenly fired both of the guns at the worker--

...and within mere moments, Uzi would've noticed that she hadn't been hit, but the olive oil bottle was completely destroyed, it's contents now spilled and totally useless as a potential anti-disassembly drone weapon.

"Oops," V says smugly as Uzi's potential ammunition against her was now gone. "I missed."

[absoluteangsty]

"The only dance I can do is throw the knife one- I just need two volunteers to spin me and throw a knife at-"

[zenkaiankokuart]

"Wait! You don't understand! I'm meant to be broken! It's better this way!"

What if having your circuits cracked and fried was the only thing keeping you from kidnapping children? The only thing that quieted that voice in your head. That let you think.

Being broken is better than being a monster. Please, please don't fix me.

Just a lil bit of lore for y'all! Sun fucking them up is what released Moon from it's control. Allowed him to disobey orders. Actually prevents him from hurting anyone. Sun tried to destroy Moon. But he may have saved him instead.

If only it hadn't made Sun worse in the process.

Drawn in @daycarefriendpickup's Oct 25th Friday Magma!