#and she hasn't the “ghost limbs”

[hesperidia]

WAIT KID MELINOE HAS A POM BLOSSOM WITH HER THATS SUCH A NICE DESIGN DETAIL

[miedei]

hii, i saw your requests are open, so i was thinking how about spencer and reader have a fwb thing going on, but he always told her not to get attached, so she breaks things off and spencer seems fine with that, until he realizes that she goes on dates with other people so maybe they fight about it and they confess their feelings

YES i love this concept nonnie my love this is amazing

not jealous

ex-fwb!spencer gets jealous, but he doesn't have any feelings for you... right?

cw: a little suggestive i think, i can't be held responsible for the things i think ab spencer reid, wrote this in a fugue state that's the only way i can explain this

wc: 1.2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Penelope Garcia is one of Spencer's favourite people in the world, but at this very moment he feels the shameful urge to tell her to shut up.

"Honey, you'd love him! He's a doctor at the hospital a few streets down, so he understands the whole married-to-the-job thing, and he's smart! Just one date, my love, please? You can totally ghost him afterward if you hate him, though I don't think you will," Garcia is perched on your desk, right across from Spencers, so he can't tune this out, despite his repeated attempts to.

You can't help but sigh, staring up at Garcia as she continues to speak. She means well, you know that. You never told her what happened, but she can tell that you've been lonely, and she's doing everything she can to help.

You can't tell her, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to.

"It's probably best if we stay like this. We can be coworkers, friends. It'd be easier if we stay unattached."

The words Spencer said to you months ago are still fresh in your mind. You'd agreed, drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and you were aware that feelings would make things more complicated. You knew that, and yet-

"Spencer, we need to stop. I can't do this no-strings-attached thing anymore."

"Then we can- we can stop. We'll stay friends, right?"

"Right."

Months of stolen moments, hotel room beds, and tangled limbs had gone to your head, and cutting it off had been the best thing to do. Spencer had made it clear that your arrangement was only viable when both of you didn't have feelings, and you knew that.

Getting over someone is hard enough, but Spencer Reid is worse. He's always there, soft smiles and rambling conversations. He seemingly hasn't been affected by the end of your situation at all.

Snapping back to reality, you look up at Garcia, who's looking at you with a hopeful smile. You can see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, staring at his monitor like he couldn't care less who you date.

It's infuriating.

He's over it! He was probably never as attached as you were, why would he care if you date?

"You know what? Give me his number."

"Yes!" Garcia pumps a fist before swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. "You won't regret this, I swear!" She grabs a business card out of her pocket and hands it to you, squeezing you one more time before flouncing off.

You fondle the stiff cardboard once, before placing it down on your desk.

Spencer hates him. James Lee. The cursive scripture on the business card stares up at him, mocking him as he tries to work. Your desk is always neat, knickknacks all in their proper spot, so the card is out of place, that's why Spencer can't stop sneaking looks at it.

He's a doctor. So is Spencer. Three times over! If you wanted to date a doctor, why not look for him instead of James Lee, MD.

A PhD's much better than an MD anyway. More effort.

He sighs. He's being petulant, he knows that. You're allowed to date people.

Even if Spencer's the one that knows the way you stretch when you've just woken up. Even if he's the one that's felt your skin under his hands. Even if he's the one that's learned how to elicit those sounds from you.

He can't take it any more, rising abruptly from his desk, stomping over to the kitchenette. The coffee pot is nearly empty, and he pours the dregs into his cup, spooning sugar into it with barely restrained movements.

He can hear Emily humming, Morgan tapping his pen against his desk. He can hear you, typing away at your phone.

He can't take it any more.

Stalking over to his desk, he picks up a random file, and stands by your elbow.

"I need to talk to you about this file. Can you help me find the other report?" He all but melts with relief when you set down your phone, following him to the storage room readily.

Being in close quarters like this causes memories to come rushing back, and you can't help the blush that comes to your face. Shaking your head slightly, you look up at Spencer, resolutely shutting out the images in your mind.

"What report are we looking for?"

He looks sheepish, but his eyes are intense as he looks down at you.

"There's no report. I need to talk to you." You tilt your head in confusion, focusing entirely on him. "Don't go on a date with him."

"What?"

"That guy." He nearly spits out his words. "Garcia's friend. Don't go out with him."

What? He's acting weird, completely still as his eyes blaze into yours.

"Why do you care if I go out with him? Garcia said he's a good guy, I trust her."

He shakes his head. "I'm- I'm sure he's normal. Nice. But you shouldn't go out with him."

He's infuriating, dancing around whatever he means.

"Why, Spencer? I think this would be good for me! I want to have fun."

"With him? You don't know him! Why not go out with someone you-" He cuts himself off, his hand flying to his hair in frustration. "Why this guy? Why not someone you know?" If it weren't Spencer, you'd say he was growling, his eyes dark.

Is he angry at you for going out with this guy?

"What? Are you seriously mad at me? For what?" His eyes flash at your words.

"Why date him? Why not-"

"Who would I date? You? Are you angry at me for dating someone else when we never dated at all? Spencer, you wanted no feelings! I did what you asked, I ended- whatever we were, because you said we shouldn't involve feelings!" Your chest tightens, looking away from him.

"What are you saying? You ended it because... Why didn't you tell me?" He ducks his head, trying to meet your gaze. You've had enough. Enough of his maddening words, making you feel bad for doing what he asked of you.

"Spencer, you're being unfair. What more do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you that I wanted more? I ended it because I caught feelings, and you didn't want that, so I told you we had to stop because I couldn't hide it from you, not when we were always together, and-"

You're stunned into silence when his hands come up to frame your face, impossibly gentle as large fingers trace your jaw.

"You're right, I said that." A hand travels higher, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn't have, though. I should've... should've told you."

You can't help but whisper, the intimacy of the moment blanketing the small room in quiet. "Told me what?"

As if in answer, he ducks his head towards you, and you instinctually crane your head upwards to meet his lips.

It's practised, even if it's been a while. Your hands travel up his sides, bracing your palms on either side of his jaw as his come down to grip your waist.

His lips are soft yet insistent, pressing against you like he's trying to impart a message. Lips part, breath stolen, and it's minutes before either of you pulls back.

Your forehead presses against his, chest heaving. His eyes are light, and a breathless giggle leaves his lips as he looks at you.

"Don't go on that date. Please."

"You're going to have to take that up with Garcia."

[missvaseline]

Deal under the Blue Moon: Chapter 2/3 (Alucard X Reader)

He'll grant the witch access to the secrets and knowledge she craves, but there is always a price- especially a dhampir who claims he hasn't eaten in forever.

Read Previous: Chapter 1

This is NSFW(18+) with an inclusion of a podfic (TTS) that's optional to listen to as well. (triggers in this chapter: bartering for sex, sassy Alucard, cunnilingus) This story doesn't have any sort of description of the reader- I left it intentionally vague without using inserts(Y/N, Reader, etc.) so then it doesn't disturb the tone of the story.

She stands out of her chair, ready to walk back out as she feels a sudden jolt of shame hit her like a wave in a storm.

"What could you possibly do with my cunt that isn't sex?" She sighs as she grows silent to contemplate.

He surely was attractive, he probably had years of experience behind him and rather- The witch didn't have reservations against sex in this case- but for respect in this situation.Alucard’s golden eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and anticipation as he paused before the door of his room. His hand hovering over the ornate handle. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Alucard’s lips curled into a sly grin as he sensed her hesitation beginning to crack.

“I can assure you, the things I can do with your cunt have little to do with intercourse- in a crude and vulgar sense of it anyway.”

His golden eyes flickered down to her body, his tongue darting along his bottom lip as if tasting a delicious phantom flavor that already belonged to him.

"And what do you mean by that?"

There was an air of silence that was pregnant between them. It was then she pondered on how she even got here, slaying creatures and traversing in the cold darkness only to make a perverse deal with Alucard, to which she was shocked he'd even ask for this sort of thing.

"You could have anything in the world at your fingertips, yet you choose to ask me of this? I would've thought you'd ask me to apprentice a quest to find some sort of artifact, but nothing as quite simple as this…”

He chuckled softly, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the library, seemingly filling the silence between them with an almost palpable tension. Then he tilted his head as his gaze remained on hers. The witch's assumptions weren't wrong, but her naivety was charming in a way that seems delicious. It seemed utterly delicious because she was grossly underestimating him and his ability to change her whole worldview.

“What do you know of pleasure outside of missionary? It seems like there are some pleasures your human mind cannot grasp without seeing or experiencing it.”

The tendons in her jaw squeaked in her ear as she tensed it. He was at least correct at that. She didn't understand the pleasures of sex and she sorely had disinterest in it as alchemy was always in its stead. She gave a sigh of resignation as she averted her gaze.

“You're right, I don't know. But at the same time, it's not the end all to be all. How I even get in this predicament is still a spectacle to me.”

Golden eyes twinkled with wonder as he glanced at her. In his face, she could almost see the hardship hidden beneath it. Yet as he held her gaze, she felt the underlying sense of curiosity her lips could never admit.

“You barged into my castle asking for a grand mentor in alchemy. Instead of refusing, or perhaps having my undead familiars rip you limb from limb,” He took a dramatic pause, studying her features as if painting a mental picture, “I instead ask a small favor in return- perhaps even less.”

She nearly lunged at him in irritation to suggest giving away the last vestiges of her dignity was something so small. Something as equal as words exchanged.

"*You believe it to be small?!*"

The snarl had him unfazed as he held his place, his expression only seemed to have ‘entertained’ written all over it. A ghost of a smirk danced upon his lips, and he raised an eyebrow in response to her words.

"You can always leave, if this displeases you. If my 'pleasures' seem too unsavory for you- feel free to waddle out into winter’s air having to face the same creatures that likely made your journey a nuisance in the first place." He jests with an apathetic drawl and tilts his head slightly to see the anger that burned in her eyes.

"Is it truly too small of a request- especially since what you could possibly ask is quite grand. Is this not what it is called? Equal exchange?” A dubious chortle sifts out of her as she feels the disappointment slowly but surely swell nerves in her throat until she can barely swallow.

"Probably I'm disappointed a hero I hailed for years turns out to be a pervert." Arms cross over her chest as she finds her body contemplating the decision. Alucard seemed to be austere but at the very least warm at his center. But this sort of estranged personality seemed to leave no room for that warm nature to even live within him. He crossed the remaining distance between them, towering over her petite frame. His voice dropped to a husky whisper as he leaned in, his breath caressing her ear.

“Heroes are not forged in holy water, witch. Or by saving the princess. They are forged in shadows and blood, where desperation forces the impossible and where even the purest souls become stained and calloused by those that would crush them.”

She takes an eager step back as she tries to manage herself. Eagerly, her gaze sought him for anything, for any of the semblance that she's heard of him before but it appears she had more of a parasocial relationship with his reputation than him.

"Then you are a victim of your circumstance. You have been brought down by the very beings you fought against and you're at fault for that.”

She blinked once and he was before her in an instant that startled her into jolting back with owlish eyes. Alucard let out a soft, sardonic laugh, his breath tickling the witch's ear as he leaned in closer, craning over her.

“It seems someone has spirit. Blaming the savior of their realm when those they saved turn around and abuse them. Quite bold.”

He lets out a low snicker, and continues speaking in an overshadow undertone to tease her.

“But spirit alone cannot change the reality before you. nor erase the consequences of power. You do plan to heal the world- I do admire it but I will not give my everything unless it’s worth my time. Especially to you standing before me right now. Your audacity still outclasses your power- how about changing that?”

The sorceress takes another step back but finds her back finally meeting the cold wall, the contact making her jounce again. She gave a chuckle trying to console her timid soul as he stood closer to her than ever before on this night. She finally met his eyes after centering herself, a smile growing on her lips as she bowed her brows. The banter of all of this was surreal.

"You've got more sass than integrity it seems"

A sigh, laced with a quiet exasperation, tumbled from his lips as the corners of his mouth moved ever-so-slightly upward into a barely perceptible smirk. His elegant hand, slender fingers that were taught with deadly precision, gently grazed his chin as if contemplating her biting accusation that he himself almost admired.

“Integrity. Such a human notion. Such useless qualities don't matter when I haven't needed it. Humans have failed me continuously since I stepped out of this very castle to slay the evils they themselves created. And now it is time for me to get a bit of payment in return- after the many favors I have freely bestowed upon others.”

He continues his gentle assault, his words like a lover’s caress despite the predatory edge to his tone.

"I have been fair. If you do not wish for my power- leave."

It was his third time telling her she could leave instead of taking the deal. This is when she realized she couldn't bargain with the dhampir. He laid out the boundaries and what he would need in order to teach what she was seeking. The ball was in her court. Her resolve was faltering before she finally parted her lips and let the words fall out.

“Fine.”

It was a grumble that echoed in the library and suddenly the air shifted. Fortunately, he took a step back. Although she was expecting for the leerish smirk to reappear on his face, it hadn’t came. Instead, he turned away and soundlessly, almost hauntingly, glided to the book shelves.

He extended his hand towards a nearby chair, silently offering her a seat. Once she is comfortably seated, he continues,

"I require a very simple favor, a very small favor."

His voice lowered, adopting a hypnotic cadence,

"Your services will be needed everyday- until your mind has learned what I have to offer. It isn't a harsh arrangement is it? It will grant you many things- but if you grow uncomfortable at any time, I will release you from my grasp and gift you a sum of gold and riches far grander than you could possibly make in ten lifetimes."

Well now her interest has peaked.

"Oh?" She hummed in surprise.

All the words she had left had all but died as she sat back down in the seat. Was his appetite so insatiable that he had to do it every single day of their proposition? She wanted to ask him, to press him further to dispel the possible meaning that she would have to sacrifice part of herself everyday to this seemingly cold and callous being. She opened her mouth to protest finally-

“Deal?”

His voice whispered into the library like a hymn that was unforgettable. Then she had nothing else left to say. The wiccan sat there for a moment, pondering and contemplating. It wasn’t such a bad deal, but she questioned her stamina. Regardless, if she fell tired, she would still be rewarded in the end.

She glanced at him before contemplating before sighing and giving a faint nod

Alucard’s expression remained stoic as he patiently awaited her decision, his golden eyes unwavering as they locked with hers.

“Speak, witch. Are we in agreement or are you going to shamble back out into that frostbitten hell?”

"Deal." She sighs as she settles her eyes on him. It was settled then and there.

“Come.”

He barked, pacing past her back into the long labyrinth of the halls.

Legs moved while her mind didn’t for a moment. Her thoughts swirled with notions of what everything could imply. The air was pregnant with silence the rest of the way as she was too afraid to back out. The air was far too unfriendly outside, the excursion to this bastion was extensive, she was exhausted- mentally dispelled and disillusioned. She couldn’t go back out there. Not now. He suddenly halted, making her pace accidentally against his back before she cleared her throat with a step back. Alucard turns to open the door, his eyes flickering to her with a slight smile.

“Here is your abode… for now.” A strong arm gestures the way. The witch paces forward entering the room’s darkness before the wicks in the room lit themselves.

“-And for fucks sake try not to steal my trinkets. Clothes are there for you on the bed.” He hissed as she paced passed him, goosebumps prickling her skin from both his whispers and the flames alight. She remained wordless as he shut the door behind her.

More like caged her in, she thought.

The sorceress was left with herself, a shaky breath of relief, fear, a tinge of shame and dare she say excitement ran through her before she puts her coat down on the wood chair pushed in under the desk and peeled clothes off only to stop and furrow her brows in confusion at the sight of a sleeping gown and a towel already laid out for her on the bed. It appears he expects this... Or wishes for company in the very least

.

She carefully took the towel and gown, pushing the side door of the room to find a bathroom of immaculate posture. Her eyes skim the golden faucets and porcelain lining. This wasn't like bathing in a bucket, she nearly glared at the faucet for a moment before finally turning it for it to provide hot water.

By the gods.

She found herself soaking for at least an hour, relishing in an environment that isn't harsh or cold for once. A shaky sigh escapes her before she stands to pat herself dry and to put on the rather modest gown. And when she slipped herself underneath the heavy embroidery comforter her eyes found themselves staring at the tall ceiling and the chandelier. The golden prismatic defeat reflecting from the moonlight peering past white transparent drapes.

The silence overtook her. Not even the castle was cracking and settling under its massive structure. It was simply her with herself... And the fact she made a deal with her body. The feeling meddled with her until sleep finally found her.

The hours melted away like candle wax before the day came to steal the moon’s show. Birds cackled and chirped at each other while the morning dew formed outside the dark castle. She was deep into slumber. A soft knock stirs her from her sleep. And all the worries that were kept away by slumber suddenly were there in the morning to greet her.

“Rise and shine, witch. It is time.”

Alucard greets her with a seemingly soft tone.

Her eyes open for her to see the glimpse of day peering through the windows before she grunts while anxiety brews in her stomach.

"what is the time?"

“Just past dawn. Or are you simply unable to read a clock? Perhaps the human in you is starting to show more than I realized.”

"Probably I didn't see the damn clock when I had asked?" A sharp glut of irritation was spat back at him through the carefully carved bedroom door.

Alucard let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by the witch’s indignant response.

“Such a delight. Do hurry, I am rather hungry and I am sure you don’t wish to starve your supposed savior, hmm?”

His words are a delicate caress. After a few moments, the sounds of his retreating footsteps can be heard echoing down the hallway as he gave her a reprieve to dress herself and collect her belongings. She grumbles under her breath before opening the door only for her steps to meet an outfit for her to wear.

Of course he would dress me… She thought before breaths fumble from her previously buttoned lips.

The door clicked shut and shortly she was out of the room, the dress hugging her figure and slightly too short for her tastes. After putting her boots on, her body melted into the hallway’s darkness.

Alucard materialized from the shadows at the end of the hallway, his footsteps near silent as he approached the witch, seemingly emerging from the very stone walls of the castle. He offered a curt nod of acknowledgement before gesturing for her to follow.

“Good, it suits you. Try not to trip.” His voice laced with amusement as his golden eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her legs

Each step felt like lightning shooting up from the soles of her feet and into her body. And every step she took sounded at a distance, a distinguishably slower tempo than his to build the distance between them as she had been doing since their encounter.

Alucard glanced over his shoulder, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he noticed the witch's discomfort. He slowed his pace, allowing her to catch up before resuming their journey through the castle's winding corridors. He continued into the dark hall towards the library where she had arrived last night.

“Your anxiety amuses me, witch.” He commented as they moved towards the dark oak doors at the end of the long, narrow passageway, its double doors ominous under the dim candle light lining the hallway towards it.

"I'm preparing myself." With gritted teeth, boots seemingly slowing in tempo against the stone behind him just to rebuild the distance again.

“Preparing yourself for a fate worse than death? Do try to be a bit more original, witch. Every frightened virgin utters the same damn sentence.”

The premeditated gestures earlier did seem to be schooled in some repetitive ritual.

"Of course you'd be the one to know that, right?”

Alucard’s lips curved into a sardonic grin as he pushed open the heavy oak doors, revealing the dimly lit expanse of the library. He gestured for the witch to enter, his voice dripping with sarcasm,

“Of course, I do, darling. You're not that special now, are you?”

"You heathen," She growled under her breath as she followed him into the library. "That's supposed to make me feel bad?”

He let out a low chuckle that seemed to reverberate through the silent chamber before turning to face her, a playful smirk dancing upon his lips

“You mistake my honesty for malice. The first step in mastering magic is control. Control your heart and your mind. It appears you lack both, hm?”

Out of the fuming sorceress, sighs of irritation parted from her lips before she remained still with a glare plastered on her face.

"And You're highly insufferable..." She murmurs in defiance.

Alucard chuckled, amusement flashing across his features as he sauntered back to his favorite velvet chair perched around the crackling fire in the hearth that had been ablaze the entire evening. It appeared as though he hadn't left this room since she fell asleep.

“And you’re just another boring Tuesday evening.”

He gestured for her to approach the bed tilting his head to a side.

To that the woman glared at him before, her jaw tightens to the point where her teeth grinded. She realizes why this whole situation was paying so much more of a price for the sake of Alchemic knowledge now if she hasn't before. Alucard seemed to have enough years backed behind him to know how humans tick to know where to stick and jab word where it hurts most.

She stammers in place, eyes flickering from the book stand, the drapery, and the ornate details of faces hung on the walls to the chair before sighing and giving in. At this point she'll lose her mind fighting with this creten. Bare feet pad against the wooden floor to the side of the velvet chair before she plops down in defeat.

“Let's just get this over with, I'm done arguing.” She grumbles as her eyes flicker to him.

“Good,” His lips spread into a leer, “pull up your dress and open your legs.”

The words snaked out of his mouth as if it were wrapping around her body, squeezing her with trepidation as she felt nervous undressing for his hungry gaze. She was still as she looked at him, expecting more- something more than just a cold bark of orders while he shut the door and turned to face her.

“That certainly makes me feel comfortable..” Sarcasm tinges her words as she crosses her arms, ignoring his requests.

“If the delicacies of gold and knowledge weren't enough comfort for you, I can assure you I can do much more than just lap you with words and you'll be so much ever comfortable than you've ,felt in your life.”

He purrs lowly, so low in fact that the woman can feel it vibrating in her body. Another slow step forward and he was towering down, gleaming at her with a golden gaze before craning over. The tip of his nose nearly met hers as he searched her eyes.

“Pull your dress up.”

His gaze is unrelenting. Loud drumming thumps met the witches ears and she swallowed on nerves that appeared to swell in her throat.

“Or leave. And never come back.”

She shivers as she bites her lip and averts her gaze. Shaky palms run to the sides of her ruffled dress before hiking the dress up slightly, showing her thighs to him. There was a slight sense of shame to this but nonetheless, she could get much more than cowering out of this. The witch just despised his tongue.

He waits.

Golden eyes flicker at her trembling lips before trailing up to her eyes. A shaky breath parts from her before her fingers curl and bunch her dress until her thighs peak at him.

“And open your legs.” He whispered against her ear before pulling away and studying her expression.

Her thighs wavered before incrementally opening wider while she swallowed another round of swollen nerves. His golden locks suddenly descended as he kneeled on his knees before she felt lips press at her knee.

A gasp slips from her before she shivers and before another kiss on the side of it. Slow and gentle kisses butterfly up her inner thigh as she was shaking all the more harder the closer he got to the apex of her thighs. A smooth palm gently slides up her calf before cupping her knee as he kissed closer and closer to the white cotton that shielded her core. Strands of golden hair whispered against her thighs as he leaned forward causing her to bite her lips out of an emotion she couldn't even recognize until her cunt squeezed in anticipation.

She was enjoying this

Then for a brief moment she felt nothing. Annoyance was suddenly seeping into her, none that she could recognize as she opened her eyes to glance at him smirking at her. There was a triumph he already claimed before he even started. A look in her eye that he must've seen that-

“You're wet.” Alucard purrs, “and I was beginning to think I should just send you off as you were astutely uncomfortable just moments ago…”

Warmth presses against her cheeks and the voice in her dies down. Probably she didn't want to deal with him being a bitch towards her anymore than he already was. She stayed still, legs splayed as she looked at him silently. There was, after all, a wet patch unseen by her eyes at the middle of her panties. She quickly felt exposed, embarrassed even though she wasn't the one on her knees.

Alucard let out a soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest before he trailed his tongue up her other knee, the motion making her shiver.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon…” he hums as the witch seemed so shy for someone who traversed through hellfire and brimstone to reach him. “So impatient…” he continues before blowing cool air on her soaking core.

“Shut up-”

“Make me, darling.” Alucard murmurs against her heated skin, tongue slowly bunching and parting the white cotton of her panties to tease at the flesh underneath. The fabric of the velvet chair croaked beneath her nails as her palms clutch each side. The witch’s breath stuttered as she felt his tongue kneading into her hidden clit.

He glanced up to look at her expression as his tongue massaged and slivered against the tenting flesh underneath the delicate cloth. The white fabric was getting so drenched, he could see the color of the flesh beneath it. His pants felt so miserly that he considered letting it free to relieve himself of the uncomfortable tightness as his cock pleaded to be let out of the guard of his belt and buttons. Pads of fingers slip to the sides of her labia underneath her panties to splay them apart, freeing her clit from the mercy of being hidden between lips before he grazes his tongue over the fabric again.

She hissed as she sucked in air trying to steel herself from him.

The nerves in her brain were snapping and popping just trying to process what was happening

"Why are you licking like that?" Her panties were still on, but it was as if they were off.

“Why are you trembling like this?” He copies her as he pulls away and gives her soaked panties a pointed look.

“Perhaps if you’re more compliant you might find out.”

Before she could even speak, his lips wrapped around her fabric covered pearl and suckled. The spine against the chair arched with a rasp parting from her. His tongue skillfully had her writhing without even taking her panties off- she could feel her cunt convulsing against his lips. Dribble building at the corner of her lips as she silently screamed, struggling to soundlessly contain herself.

Suddenly a deep groan made the coil at her core tighten all the further as she flickered down to meet his gaze. And he seemed determined to educate her on what pleasure really meant. Without her mind taking decision, her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling in both frustration and euphoria as her breaths became labored.

He yanked her closer, wrapping his arms around her thighs to keep her bound in her place all the while a yelp squeaks out of her. Fabric rips with a sharp yank at her panties before she could process it. Cheeks were aflame alike.

Labia spread again, his tongue slipped into her drenched hole before lewdly slurping the slick out from it as if it were the last sip of blood he could ever take in his life. His fangs pressed against her cunt as he lapped egregiously. Finally a cry slips out of her throat like a wailing sob as she found herself unable to restrain all that was left of her dignity.

“There she is..”

He purred. His fingers carefully slip to the sides of her clit, rolling back the protective hood that stood between his tongue and she jolted as if she were suffering a seizure or a possession she couldn't wring from her body.

“Fuck!” She moaned As her body danced up the chair, wooden legs scraped against wooden boards as she began to claw at velvet armrests. Toes curled, back arched, slick seeping into velvet beneath her- she was losing her sanity. Her eyes nearly lawl back as her cunt quivered instinctively.

She was losing control. Her cunt wouldn’t stop spasming. She couldn’t stop clawing at thefucking armrests.

Alucard pulls back slightly, slick visibly bridging between the tip of his tongue and the exposed tip of her hardened clit, engorged and drenched with saliva and slick alike. He was showing her just what he was doing to her and with a faint smirk, his finger circled around her hole. Gilded eyes stare back at her as the tip of his tongue grazed and wagged on the tip of her hardened nub in a hypnotic fashion that nearly pulled her soul from her body. A lewd drop of slick gathered on his tongue exquisitely rolling down the short length of her bud, seeping into the cavern of her cunt.

The display made her question if she were still asleep, in the guest bedroom of the castle, dreaming.

She felt the pressure of his finger as he pushed it in her tight hole, groaning at the anticipated embrace of it around his cock.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze… nonetheless..”

He murmurs before giving her nub attention with the delight of his tongue again as he gently thrusted and presses the pad of his finger to the top of her clenching walls. Another palm crept under her dress, long fingers slip around her breast and squeezed as he lapped and fingered her. The witch’s pelvis moved, thrusting up into his lips as she pulled at his tresses again.

Of course, he enjoyed it thoroughly. She couldn’t sass anymore as her jaw slacks with breathless moans. Fingers pinched at her nipple as he pressed a second finger inside of her, nearly making her jolt from the chair as he lapped faster at her clit. Her warmth wrapped around his fingers, slick pussing out from her hole as a never ending source. Like a spring that has no end. Her bud jolted to his tongue, her body writhes, giving the tell tale signs of her impending orgasm as she was driving herself up the chair with squirms and back arches.

Lips squeeze tighter around her clit as he sucks harder, rolling his tongue in a hypnotic symphony before she sobs out her cunt squeezing tightly, a tear slips from the corner of her eye, down to her cheek. The fingers squeezing her nipple felt good- at this point everything melted into a euphoria where all the world's problems went away with the lens of this experience. It felt so good, she was crying as if she’s finally found solace in this world.

The witch’s body explodes into trembles, cries and to ceaseless breaths as her cunt spasmed with pleasure. Waves of trepidation had her until she finally settled down into the seat, panting. Soft eyes were glazed over as she had nothing to think of. She was in subspace, a sort of trance.

She felt the pressure of his fingers slip away before his tongue traversed her one last time as he desperately laps the last vestiges of slick away from her trembling, engorged pussy before his fingers. She could barely process that he stood up, a low chuckle as he observed her baffled body that was limp on the seat of the sofa chair.

“Get dressed, witch. We have a long day ahead of us. Today, we begin with the basics of alchemy." He spoke coolly, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as if nothing occurred.

Read Next: Chapter 3

[radiance1]

[That one au but mixed with my Teddy Bear au where Danny got his accident at like 5-10 but because he was with his Teddy Bear on hand he kinda turned into that Teddy Bear basically.

A mix up of these two specifically where he's Ghost King and Pariah took it upon himself to be his kinda Mentor.]

So Pariah and Trigon meet each other at some point, with Trigon half-heartedly insulting him because he lost his status as king, but Pariah willingly gave it up so he literally could not give more than 0 shits.

So then they Pariah decided that his successor-to-be should get to know Trigon's daughter, and Trigon was like: Are you sure? Because she would probably infect them with that 'Morally good' shit.

Pariah waves it off, because his successor-to-be is already morally good and hasn't even enslaved a race or destroyed a planet yet.

Trigon:

Pariah:

Trigon: Are you okay?

Pariah: What do you think.

Trigon pats him on the back awkwardly, because no tyrant should have to go through that.

So then one Teddy Bear Danny, adorned in his star cloak, a misty ice crown with an ever-shifting constellation hovering over it, and a ring around his stubby limb, appeared in the DC universe and told to go and find the daughter of Trigon, who he would hopefully be able to make an alliance within the best-case scenario.

Which Danny is a bit confused about because he doesn't know who Trigon or his daughter is, but he's at least willing to try! Also, he might get side-tracked in exploring here and there.

[bearimba]

Ok wait I have vague GIG(G)S ideas:

Impulse: an Experienced Ghost Hunter(TM)!

He worked for whoever the in-game company is (they don't have a canon name as far as I'm aware?) for a while before going independent.

Accidentally made a pact** with a demon during his early days and is now racing to reverse it before he dies and his soul gets eaten

Something about the pact gives him plot armor so he's lowkey immune to dying (yes this is counterproductive. no I don't know why/how this works yet. probably something happened to make the contract go awry)

Surprise surprise, making deals with a demon goes against company policy, but breaking the pact like they want would also probably kill him. He makes a get-away by stealing their van, and since he's got the equipment and skills for it, he continues ghost-hunting to make a living while on the run.

He also offers services as an electrician on the side just for extra cash, which is great because faulty electronics is often a sign of EMF stuff.

He gets little demon horns? Maybe? It's for the vibe (and maybe a tail too, to hold his lighter with)

The cheat sheet is just a journal (or maybe a collection of journals?) full of notes he's taken over the years

Skizz: a literal and metaphorical angel*!

For backstory and world-building reasons I haven't figured out yet, he forms a sin-eating pact** with Impulse, and that's why they stick together (besides the fact they enjoy each other's company, of course).

He's a tradesman on the side just like Impulse, but he does more home-repair and carpentry stuff.

All his clothes are torn-up because he keeps dying in stupid ways, but he hasn't replaced them yet because he insists it makes him look cool.

He's in charge of taking pictures because his ✨angelic presence✨ counteracts the EMF stuff that messes up the camera. They used to have a much nicer one that wasn't affected by EMF back when Impulse first started, but they managed to break it and haven't been able to afford one like it since.

Honestly I don't have enough headcanons for him yet and it makes me sad :(

Gem: a totally normal… individual!

You heard of not-deer? Yeah, it's kinda like that >:]c Has she been replaced? Was she once Gem but has been transformed into something else? Has she always been this way and no one noticed until now? Who knows!

She and Grian met in middle school while causing trouble in the same arts class and have been buddies ever since.

She liked to spend a lot of time in the woods near her home partially due to a casual interest in botany and partially because she and Grian could get up to shenanigans without getting caught. Even when they moved to a different country for college (it was the only university they could find that offered decent programs for both architecture and medical science, not to mention his cousin offered to let them stay at his place rent-free), she enjoyed driving out to the nearby national park to hang out. That park was also her last-reported location before she went missing.

If you look too close, there's subtle details that hint that something's not quite right---eyes that reflect light, limbs that are a little longer than they used to be, very sparse blinking, and a smile that's a little too wide...

Grian was going to be her first victim. He was an easy target, after all---unlikely be missed under the right circumstances, and scatterbrained enough to fall for her tricks---but there was never a good time to strike without blowing her cover. Eventually, the cravings for human died down completely, and she (mostly) forgot he was supposed to be her meal instead of her best friend.

She likes to study other people and mimic their behavior, and she's gotten a lot better at it than she used to be when she first reappeared.

Imp and Skizz both realize there's something off about her, but she's not exactly aggressive or anything, so they just let her be. It doesn't help that whenever they try to question Grian about it, he insists there's nothing wrong.

She usually stays in the van because for some strange reason, the ghosts don't like to appear when she's around.

Although she didn't get to study anything in-depth, she does have more medical knowledge than the rest of the crew, and getting her to help is cheaper than going to a doctor.

Grian: a blind clairvoyant!

Despite Gem's disappearance, Grian managed to pull himself together enough to continue college in the fall. But about halfway through his degree, Jimmy pulled him along to study in a supposedly haunted part of the library because no one else would bother them there, during which the whole building experienced a blackout. The staff fixed it quickly enough, but when the lights came back on, Jimmy was confronted with a knocked-out Grian. For the rest of the semester, he'd be plagued by headaches, insomnia, sleepwalking outside and sleeptalking about the moon and eyes, paranoia, periods of amnesia, and other symptoms that almost made him drop out of college.

Ever since, he's had has this uncanny intuition for when something's about to go wrong and often suddenly knows things without any explanation as to how. Skizz swears it's like he's got eyes in the back of his head or something.

When Gem popped up right after he graduated and suggested to him that they leave on a long roadtrip, he wasn't really in a state of mind to question it. He just thought it would be a good chance to get his head on straight, and strangely enough, just being near Gem helps him to think much more clearly. He just assumes it's because they're such good friends.

He gets possessed at Point Hope, and although the crew manages to exorcise him, he still occasionally gets the urge to set sail and never come back. He's also noticed a lot more mollusks in strange places since then, though surely that must be unrelated...

Scar: a lovable salesman!

He's also considered an angel*, and he definitely likes to play the part to sell his wares.

The GIGS crew buys their supplies from him since certified sources are rare and trustworthy vendors are even rarer. Scar is still a pretty shifty guy, but he hasn't let them down yet---killing off his customers beloved friends would be bad business, after all!

He lives on the road just like GIGS for his own reasons, so they have to arrange to meet with him way both they run out of supplies.

His previous life is a well-kept secret, but he had an interest in the occult even before he became an angel. He claims it was to contact his old pets from beyond the grave, but unsurprisingly, no one quite believes him.

He loves to make outdated references, but no one knows if it's because he's that old or he's just a nerd.

Sometimes he'll join the crew on an investigation for fun, but he dies more often than not, and recovery is so inconvenient that he doesn't like to be on-site very often.

The crew:

They mostly deal in ghost identification, but they do offer extermination for an extra fee. It's more expensive than companies that specialize in extermination, but that's just the price for convenient/speedy service.

Each person has an unofficial role with Impulse as the ringleader, Skizz as the photographer, Gem as the man in the chair, and Grian as the odd-jobber. Of course, everyone has a little experience with everything, but they're most comfortable like this.

They all live in the van, and will usually stay in a town for anywhere from a few days to a couple months depending on how much work is available.

They tend to stay nights at motels and the like, but when money's short or there's nowhere to stay nearby, Imp and Skizz usually sleep in the cab of the truck while Grain and Gem get to camp in the back with sleeping bags.

Pay is split five ways: each member gets a set stipend for personal stuff, and the rest goes towards "work expenses" such as food, motel fees, gas, and the occasional treat for a job well done.

Other appearances:

Pearl, a mysterious woman with a wolfish grin and strange knack for attracting the supernatural.

Jimmy, Grian's well-meaning cousin who accidentally gets Grian possessed, freaks out when he goes no-contact on a sudden "road trip" with someone who's been presumed dead, and then nearly dies himself after an investigation gone wrong.

Lizzie (Jimmy's cousin on the other side) and her husband Joel, who contact GIGS for help and are surprised to find two old acquaintances among them (which is how Jimmy finds Grian again).

Ze and his new colleague Sneeg, two employees of Imp's old company that they run into at a haunting that got double-booked.

BDubs ("is that even a name?" "shut up. like you can judge, Mr. 'my-name-is-Grian-not-Grain.'" "yeah--- well--- at least I'm not named after some stupid stars!"), a very concerned patron who insists on supervising the investigation and gets roped into helping.

Ghostie-ghoulie stuff:

The supernatural is common enough to be recognized but isn't typically considered a part of everyday life.

"Ghost" refers to any supernatural creature that forms from human souls, which mean their appearences and attributes can vary just as much as human personalities. However, their traits can be greatly affected by the circumstances in which they were created (aka how a person died), so there's enough commonality to classify them.

Just like any other being, ghosts need energy to function. They absorb this energy in the form of heat and expel it and electromagnetic radiation. If they output enough of this radiation, they can create EMFs that can be detected by readers. This is also why haunted areas tend to be cold and events/hunts can be tracked by spikes in EMF levels.

If ghosts aren't formed enough enough energy to subsist right off the bat, they can wither away without intervention.

Most ghosts the GIGS that exist are fairly new, so they aren't strong enough to kill anyone. It usually takes at least a year of residence for enough EMF to gather for them to mess with the environment, and even longer to cause events. However, the older a ghost is, the more its sentience slips away.

The reason ghosts kill can vary wildly and may even depend on the type of ghost. Some ghosts are simply territorial, some hold grudges towards the living (though they aren't always aware enough to realize what/why), and some even want to possess the living.

Possessions are incredibly rare because it takes an immense amount of energy to possess someone, but most ghosts are no longer sentient to want such a thing by the time they've amassed enough power. Possession of a living body is even harder for the exact same reason.

*Angels and demons don't actually have anything to do with Christian mythology. Unlike other ghosts, neither are fully dead. The link between their soul and body is just messed up, though due to the rarity of both entities, how exactly this occurs is severely under-researched. For demons, their soul has been banished from their body (the still-functioning body is called a zombie and can be killed to destroy the demon), and their creation typically happens within an abundance of "bad energy" (ex: violent murder). On the other hand, angels are permanently bonded to their bodies and are created in the presence of "good energy" (ex: heroic sacrifice). They can also be killed by destroying their bodies, but unlike demons, the fact that their soul remains inside the body means they're able to regenerate even though the scars always remain. Both entities can rot (not age) to death within the average human lifespan but can prolong the wait by consuming energy, and both tend to have very clumsy/uncoordinated bodies due to the messed up soul link.

**Also, although it costs demons a lot of energy to form a pact with humans (and again, the manner in which a pact is formed/maintained is unknown), the fulfillment of a contract will grant them much more power than they out into it---it's bascially an investment. Angels can do a similar things called "sin-eating" but it works in reverse: it takes a little energy to make the pact, but the fullfilment will drain them greatly (no I don't exactly know how this works yet either. but it sounds cool so I'm keeping it >:]c )

[shaunamilfman]

the ghost you dressed up as [6]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x r summary: "It's all been leading up to this, hasn't it? Time for you to officially become a part of it all." note: GRAPHIC depictions of violence. masterlist

You finally rise to a crouch at the sound of Mrs. Loomis's voice rising in fright, peeking through the small slats in her hall closet’s door. Hiding out in her home for her wasn't quite as glamorous as you had imagined it being. The sweat clings to your skin, making the black cloak stick to your skin in odd places. The mask sits awkwardly on your face, leaving you struggling to find a position for it to sit in which you can both see and breathe through it.

Your limbs ache from the position you'd taken, the cramped quarters causing you to contort awkwardly to fit inside. The small wire shelves had been pressing into your skin for what felt like hours, leaving uncomfortable indents in your skin.

No part of you could see Shauna being patient enough to lay in waiting like this, and certainly not Jackie, but maybe that was what you were for. Maybe the concept of waiting in the house was as new to you as it was to her. Maybe that could be what you brought to the table–a patience neither of them could stomach.

Shauna and Jackie had insisted that someone needed to wait inside the house, claiming that they'd never tried taking on someone so much older than themselves. Mrs. Loomis was no teenager, not like the rest of their victims. A fully grown adult with authority of her own who loathed to give it up. Jackie claims she would have to choose her words carefully to instill that feeling of being prey upon her, to ensure she would be too frightened to act logically.

But you knew how easily Mrs. Loomis folded from the will of teenagers. How long had she sat there and done nothing while your peers pointed their fingers at you? She was a coward at heart.

You suspected, however, that it mostly just served to prevent you from chickening out last second. Where would you go, after all? You were already inside, already lying in wait.

Mrs. Loomis anxiously walks across the living room to look through the blinds, foolishly ensuring herself that there was no one actually there as long as she couldn't see them. As if they wouldn't be hiding from her, probably just below that very window. Shauna took pleasure in that, knowing that she could get caught if her victims were only just a little smarter. There was something about watching that misplaced sense of security turn into horror that appealed to her. It was a validation, in a way, ensuring herself that she was as smart as she believed she was.

It wasn't enough to just win, just to kill them–no, the way she won mattered just as much. More, even. She needed them to realize that they never stood a chance, not once she and Jackie decided to kill them. Shauna lived for the reveal more than anything, when they realized they weren't just running from her. There had been two of them all along, and they hadn't even noticed, even with the almost supernatural prowess it would've taken for just one person to get around that quickly.

At least, that's how it sounded when Jackie described it to you. You've never seen her in action, not really. You'd seen her kill Tatum, but there was no real action in that. No flourish beyond just getting the job done. They hadn't had time to really think it through, having felt pressured to move up the timeline the moment you announced your date. There was no hunt in that.

You can almost imagine it: that wide-eyed, almost manic grin hidden beneath Shauna's mask. You know Shauna loves this–the waiting, the hunt. 

Or that almost bored smirk beneath Jackie as she weaves her words of terror down the phone line. She never rushes, never feeling the need to. Each word is carefully chosen to maximize the terror she’s causing. So often she spoke without meaning to, revealing things that she never wanted to, but not like this. Never when she’s like this. You know she must be succeeding with the way Mrs. Loomis's voice starts to shake. You swear you can almost hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Good, you think, remembering that condescending look on her face. ‘Hanging off of them’ indeed.

She lets the blinds fall back into place with a shaky sigh, trying to convince herself of a safety she no longer believes in. There’s something so pleasing in seeing her be the one out of control for once, watching her squirm beneath the weight of her own feelings. You can see it in the way her hands shake, the way each breath comes out just a little too sharp–she’s afraid.

You could step in, could call it off somehow. You knew they would let you, even if you’d be hearing about it. 

But you don’t. 

Just like she didn’t.

“Listen,” She says suddenly, her voice cracking but finally loud enough for you to make out the individual words. “I-I don’t know who you are, but you need to stop this. Right now! This isn’t funny.” She’s growing more and more frantic, even as she tries to maintain some sort of control over the conversation. It’s almost pathetic to watch her flounder like this. Riding the edge of begging and demanding.

She’s crying in earnest now, screaming as a window shatters on the other side of the house. You grip the knife in your hand tighter, readying yourself for the inevitable. The weight of it feels grounding, the smooth handle warming beneath the heat of your palm. It was probably Shauna, growing somewhat tired of the game. Mrs. Loomis thought it was a joke? Shauna would show her it wasn’t.

“You’re sick,” She sobs. “You’re insane. Why are you doing this?”

The back door slams against the wall, reminding her she forgot to lock it in her haste. You can just barely see the horrified realization on her face: that she may die from her own complacency. Who would leave a door unlocked when there was a serial killer on the prowl in her own town? Someone who was confident in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be a victim. Now, faced with an open door, that confidence crumbles.

She runs toward it to close it before someone else can get it, giving you the chance to silently slip out of the closet. You watch her as you back up, making your way up to the stairs just like the three of you had discussed. The stairs creak softly beneath your weight, a sound that would be a dead giveaway in the usual silence that blanketed her home. But now, under the weight of her panic and the deadly voice whispering in her ear? She stood no chance of hearing it.

They would chase her up to you, and you would take her by surprise. It sounded so easy when they discussed it. All you had to do was kill her. They would bring her right to you. She would bolt up the stairs for her only chance, and when she reached the top? There you would be.

Mrs. Loomis, frantic, panting, scared out of her mind, would stumble right into your path. Just bring the knife down. The weight of it presses heavier on top of you now that it’s no longer just an idea. The knife feels more solid now, each step taking you closer to the inevitable.

It’s real, and you have to be ready.

You hear a slam downstairs, and the sound of glass shattering. When you don't hear the immediate sound of screaming, you wince–knowing either Shauna or Jackie is going to be insufferable about getting injured. 

Jackie, over the top and prone to dramatics, will milk it for all it's worth. The most shallow cut will end up being the talk of the evening just so she can make you and Shauna kiss it better. You can already imagine it, eyes wide and pitiful, as they draw you in and force you to indulge her. You’ll have to act concerned, play your part, or else you’ll end up with the cold shoulder.

It's Shauna that worries you more. That girl would try to hide a stab wound out of embarrassment if she thought she could get away with it. She could be as pale as a ghost from the blood loss and would stick her nose in the air and shake her head at the slightest hint of concern on your face. 

Either way, it's going to be a long night. 

You peer through a gap in the railing as Mrs. Loomis runs for the front door, glancing over her shoulder at whoever is behind her. She runs straight into it, frantically fumbling with the lock long enough that either of them could have killed her three times over if they hadn't been saving her for you. The thought is terribly charming: a gift, just for you. Predictably, there's already a black-robed figure waiting for her when she opens the door, a knife glinting threateningly in the light. 

She's almost frozen for a moment in horror, screaming as she comes face to face with the soulless mask that has haunted the town. Mrs. Loomis backs away as quickly as she can, nearly wiping out on the corner of the rug. Whirling around, she finds that whoever was behind her was no longer there. You catch sight of one of them looking up at you before kneeling behind a counter to hide from view. 

Backdoor, out. 

Frontdoor, out. 

Eventually she turns to the only option left: the footsteps sound frantically up the stairs toward you. You ready the knife in your hand, lunging out at her the moment she reaches the top step. She slams against the wall under the force of your body, but you don't quite manage to get the knife in before she manages to shove you off. You manage to slash her side, the blood dripping down your gloved hand matching the growing stain on her shirt. 

She breathes hard, her chest rapidly rising and falling under the sheer adrenaline she must be feeling. Her eyes are wide with terror, and something much worse: hope. She thinks she has a chance. Clearly she's realized you're the weakest link here. How embarrassing. 

That alone is enough to prepare you to try again. The thought of Jackie trying to comfort you with a patronizing smile as she tells you that everyone makes mistakes is almost unbearable. You’d rather die trying than let Shauna come in to clean up your mess for you. The look on Shauna’s face, silent and disappointed, would stay in your mind far longer than any injury could.

Her hand presses to her side in some frantic attempt to stop the bleeding, blood running out from between her fingers and dripping to the floor. You lunge again, immediately taking advantage of that moment of weakness. She’s not thinking about anything but staying alive, which unfortunately will be her downfall. 

Mrs. Loomis screams, trying to claw at your arm with her free hand, but it’s not enough to stop you from sinking the blade into her torso with a sickening sound. The flesh gives way easier than you imagined it would, sinking to the hilt almost like it was nothing. It was the adrenaline, it had to be, but you’re almost sickened by how easy it felt to kill someone. Shauna had told you it was her sharpest knife, offering it up like a gift. You understand why now.

She jerks in your grasp, letting out a shrill, blood-curdling scream that has you suddenly worried about how close the nearest house was. The worry was pointless–the three of you had scoped out her daily routine and found the best place to kill her–but the fear makes your hand shake as you rip the knife back out. The sound she lets out is almost a gasp, but just not quite. As if she couldn’t fully force the sound out. The hand clawing at your arm weakens with the blood loss, but not enough that she couldn’t manage one last swing at you as she pushes off the wall with enough force to take the both of you down to the ground.

Mrs. Loomis lands on top of you, taking your breath away as your back hits the wooden flooring. You can faintly hear frantic footsteps running toward the stairs as your ears ring, but you're not done yet. She swings wildly at you, trying to hit any part of you she can reach. Still, the wounds made her weak enough that you’re able to buck her off of you. You follow her back, hands wrapping around her throat as you frantically look around for the knife. It had clattered to the ground with your fall, and you can just barely make out the hilt from where it’s fallen beneath a nearby table.

Not close enough for you to reach. 

Her whole body thrashes beneath you, scratching and hitting at anything she can reach. Thankfully, most of your skin is covered one way or another. It seems the stupid costumes Shauna insisted on had at least one use. She gasps and chokes with a sound so horrible you can barely manage to look at her as you close your hand tighter and tighter around her throat. The blood from your gloves smears across her neck, making the whole scene look gorier, as if what you did already wasn’t enough.

A hand comes up weakly to your face, the fight draining out of her along with her last vestiges of air as she pulls at the mask. You tilt your head just slightly, enough that you’re not entirely sure whether it was purposeful or not. Was it some semblance of guilt that possessed you to do it, to let her know who her attacker was? Or maybe it was just arrogance. Wanting her to know that you were the one who sunk that knife into her chest, that you were the one that choked the life out of her.

Her eyes widen with a sick recognition as she pulls it over your head, the mask clutched tightly in weakening fingers as the fight in her fades completely. Mrs. Loomis’s hand weakly hits the floor, the mask cluttering to the ground next to her as she looks up at you with unseeing eyes. Her chest is finally still, a calmness so utterly different than just 15 seconds ago. How quickly a person ceases to be. You let go of her throat hesitantly, watching her closely to make sure she doesn’t move as you stretch across her body to reach the knife.

Gloved fingers close around the hilt, sending a jolt of surprise through you as a masked face suddenly appears in front of you. The crouching figure flips the knife around in her hand, holding the hilt out for you to grab. You take it from her slowly, wondering just how long she has been standing at the top of the stairs watching you. She tilts her head to the side in consideration, shuffling forward to snatch the mask off the ground and slowly put it back over your head.

Shauna, then.

“Thanks,” You say softly, glancing down again at the body underneath you. You raise the knife, sinking it into Mrs. Loomis’s torso. Again, and again, until Shauna finally pulls you away from her. 

There’s an undeniable excitement to her as she pulls you down the stairs, taking them two at a time in her haste to get out of the house with you. Jackie joins you the second your feet make contact with the first floor, following behind you as you race out of the house and toward Shauna’s car.

You sit in the backseat with Jackie, eyes wide with the shock of the whole night, as you stare out the window and into the distance as Shauna drives. Gentle fingers make their way up your shoulder, carefully cataloging her movements as if not to scare you. When they start pulling your mask off your head, you don’t stop them, even if some part of you desperately wanted the sense of anonymity the mask provided you.

“See?” Jackie asks quietly, fingers carding through your hair as she leans over to press a kiss against your cheek. “It wasn’t that hard. You’re a natural.”

You weren’t sure if murder was something you wanted to be a natural at, but you knew that wasn’t quite true either. Jackie had stayed outside in order to catch Mrs. Loomis if she made it out the door. She hadn’t seen the way she managed to get the drop on you. You catch Shauna’s eyes in the rearview mirror, her mask sitting almost innocently on the passenger's seat next to her knife. There wasn’t a drop of blood on either–none that she hadn’t gotten from touching you, at least. She shakes her head in answer to your unspoken question.

Shauna wouldn’t tell her, and neither would you.

“Yeah,” You say. “A natural.”

…

You stare at the small memorial, flowers and notes strewn chaotically outside of her classroom door, with an expression you can't quite name. It isn't guilt–you hadn't, for a second, felt bad about it. It isn't regret or sorrow, not when you knew it had to happen. But, strangely, it also wasn't happiness. There's no thrill to it, not like there was that night. She's dead, and you're not. 

That's all there is to it. 

You thought–in the small moments you allowed yourself to consider it–that you would have stronger feelings looking at the impact of what you did. Even last night, watching her grieving parents on the news calling for the police to finally stop this monster, you hadn't felt like you thought you should. Their voices had cracked under the weight of their sorrow, choked sobs forced from throats that couldn't hold them back any longer.

It just didn't seem like something that was happening to you. You watched along with the same detachment you'd watched every new murder announcement, slightly intrigued but mostly just bored. You'd taken something from these people, who obviously cared about her to some extent. 

You erased her. 

You were the reason this meager display even existed. It had already been defaced by someone writing “bitch” across the door in big blocky letters–the janitors had tried to get it off, but you could still just barely make out the ink still lingering. Even in death, she couldn't escape her reputation. 

It pleased you, at least somewhat, to know that she hadn't singled you out. Mrs. Loomis was awful enough that others can't bring themselves to forgive her even after her brutal death. This whole attempt at a memorial, and all it took was a marker to reduce her down to a single word. 

You remembered how it felt to stab her, and how it felt to watch her blood drop down your fingers. More than anything, you remember how it felt to hold her life in your hands and then to take it.

Maybe that was it. Maybe you were waiting to feel like that again. 

You hadn't expected the way her glassy eyes stared back at you. How they seemed to blame you. That look of surprise on her face when she finally pulled your mask off had played over and over again in your head as you ran back to the car, but it hadn't bothered you since. 

Not after Jackie pulled your mask off in the backseat of Shauna's car, after she dragged her knife across your skin just enough to draw blood. Just enough to scratch their initials–Shauna's, and then hers–into your skin. Jackie had leaned in to press a kiss just above it, gloved fingers wiping your blood from her blade with a flourish. Shauna had been watching from the driver's seat, a gleam of approval beneath her barely hidden jealousy. 

You were theirs now–it was official. How could you regret something that gave you them? If Mrs. Loomis was the price of admission, you'd gladly pay it a thousand more times. She had been a means to an end, and you had gotten it. They would've let you stay even if you hadn't done it, but your relationship would've been different, marked by your reluctance to fully join them. Your skin still burns beneath your shirt, the fabric rubbing against the carefully bandaged wound despite Shauna's best efforts to cover it. 

You step down the hallway with none of the drama you had been expecting, hurrying out the door to meet Jackie and Shauna by Shauna's car. 

“Hey,” You hear a voice call out, just as you push the front doors open. Reluctantly, you turn to face him, taking in the sight of Jeff Sadecki with visible surprise. You hadn't been expecting a meeting with Jackie's ex-boyfriend today. He looks awkward, shifting back and forth from foot to foot, as if unsure how to approach you.

You knew the official reason they had broken up: he had been cheating on Jackie with some blonde girl you wouldn't recognize in a lineup. But you'd quickly learned that he'd only ever been used to please Jackie's parents, who hadn't much noticed the way Jackie barely gave him the time of day when they weren't directly watching. Jackie insisted that it didn't matter that he had cheated on her–her heart just wasn't in it anyway–but you and Shauna wore matching glares whenever his name came up. 

“I just wanted to ask if you were okay after…” Jeff trails off, leaving her name unspoken. You can see his hesitation, clearly unsure if one of Jackie’s friends will appreciate him approaching her. There’s something else, though: a genuine concern that disgusts you a little.

You give him a curious look, shifting your bag nonchalantly on your shoulder. “Why wouldn't I be?”

He gives you a sympathetic look, hands buried in his pockets as he rocks on his heels. “It's just… I saw that she pulled you aside after class. It just must be freaky, is all. Hell, you were probably the last one to see her alive.” He pauses before adding, “Besides the dude who gutted her, obviously.”

Anyone else in his position would have lobbied that as a threat, and you're still half expecting him to as your stomach drops at the words. But no. Stupid Jeff Sadecki, so laughably earnest. The more you watch him, the more you become certain that your secret is safe. At least for now. 

Why would he tell anyone? He doesn't think it means anything. 

“I'm okay, really. Thanks,” You say quietly, shooting him a smile that he quickly returns with a dumb little nod he probably believes is charming. He’s probably already patting himself on the back for whatever noble thing he thinks he’s accomplished by pulling you aside after class. 

… 

“What is it, Mari?” You ask finally, getting irritated about the way she’s been skirting around you all practice. Mari’s been following just a step behind, close enough that she stepped on the back of your cleats a few times, mouth opening and closing without saying anything–like a fish gasping for air. Clearly something’s on her mind.

“I wanted to… apologize.” She spits out the last word like it personally pains her. You’re sure it does. 

Apologize? Mari?

You can’t imagine what possibly could have made Mari decide that she was going to apologize for that dumb comment she made. You haven't known her to apologize for anything. Not when she got a week of detention for a bitchy comment she’d made to her math teacher, not even when the whole team was mad at her. But then, you see the way Jackie keeps glancing over at the two of you in a way she probably thinks is subtle. You glance away to hide your dumb smile, already convinced she has something to do with Mari’s sudden change of heart.

In all honesty, you could barely even remember what Mari had even said to you at this point. It had barely even registered in the moment, not any longer than it took you to storm off from the table. You hadn’t even thought about it since it happened. But Jackie? Jackie wouldn’t let an insult like that slide.

You can imagine the look at Mari’s face as Jackie pulled her aside in the locker room, Jackie’s sweet smile masking the quiet threat beneath her words. Jackie’s never openly malicious, not in any way that can be tied back to her, but when she looks at you with those slightly narrowed eyes and strained smile, it’s almost more terrifying than if she glared. Your girlfriend uses her charm like a weapon.

“Well?”

Mari huffs, glaring at you as she crosses her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry, or whatever. It wasn’t cool of me to accuse you of killing our teammate, no matter how suspicious you looked.” She adds the last sentence in a bit of a rush, clearly intending to get one last insult in for her trouble.

“Sure, Mari,” You say, rolling your eyes. You weren’t likely to get anything better. “We’re good–”

“Obviously it wasn’t her,” Travis interrupts, causing the both of you to whirl around in surprise to see him leaning against the side of the bleachers. “Only a man could’ve done something like that.”

You almost laugh, both of you walking back toward the locker room as Jackie calls for the end of practice.

“Maybe it was Travis,” Mari muses once you’re out of ear shot, grinning when you snicker under your breath. She’s obviously just trying to lighten the mood, and yet…

“Didn’t he almost fail Mrs. Loomis’s class?” You ask, watching as Mari’s eyes light up at the reminder. She gives him another look, as if sizing him up.

[avionvadion]

side effect from the puppet magic

El: needs a cane to walk

Grim: becomes far sighted

Jack: asthma like symptoms

Vil: skin peeling

Jade and Floyd: Heart problems

Trey: is half deaf

Leona: IS AFRAID TO STAND STILL TOO LONG, AND THEREFORE CANT SLEEP

Why should Elmbe the only one who suffers 😀

Oh gods I could never curse Jack with asthma he doesn’t deserve that 😭😭😭 OCs yes but NOT MY BOY.

That said LEONA HAVING SLEEP PARALYSIS IS SO GOOD. I think Vil being scared of standing still too long would be good too since he’s a MODEL and models probably HAVE to stand still for photo shoots. LEONA HAVING INSOMNIA. THE IRONY. Jack COULD have insomnia too. He’s very particular about going to bed on a certain time. It’ll definitely interfere with his sleep schedule not being able to sleep because of the trauma of staying still.

I think Jade and Floyd should have the skin peeling when in their human forms since they’re Merfolk. Azul is gonna be so confused because since they’re merfolk their skin should be naturally moist (gods I hate that word, thanks high school) and shouldn’t be dry enough to peel at all yet it is.

…I hate drawing glasses, so I’m gonna make Grim deaf in one ear.

I’ll totally give Trey the asthma though. (Sorry, Trey, but the most exercise you usually get is baking, you’ll be fine.) Cater could be the one who ends up far sighted and has to start wearing contacts and/or reading glasses. (He would totally own this? He’d be like my eldest sister, with like five different colorful and differently shapes glasses that he’d change depending on his outfit.)

Hmmmm. Am I missing anyone??? Aside from Ace, Ortho, and Kalim.

AH, LILIA. Maybe like ghost pains kind of? He came SO CLOSE to being fully puppet. Sometimes it feels like his limbs are still wood and he has to jolt his arm or leg to snap himself out of it. His fingers ache where they had once been twigs. Sometimes his legs don’t move the way he wants them to. Other times he’s frozen still and he can’t move his mouth to speak and someone has to snap him out of it. Jade also probably gets this too, along with the skin peeling.

Just… really really creepy ghost pains. The trauma be REAL.

EDIT:

Thinking about it more, and the boys who suffer the most are going to be those who were wood the longest.

I don't remember the exact order of who got caught save for Jade, Lilia, Yuu, and Grim who were the first to get cursed, but those who were wood the longest will most likely share in phantom pains, insomnia, sleep paralysis, an inability to remain still for too long, and/or suffer a more physical aftermath such as potential anxiety-induced asthma as Fellow does imply that turning into a puppet makes it hard to breathe.

All of them will have nightmares. The majority will probably feel cautious/anxious about going near Amusement Parks. Grim will never be able to eat Apple-Core Popcorn or Fried Tuna again because of the bad memories it brings up.

Those who were wood shortest will probably jolt/jerk and rub/scratch at their arms because they just suddenly felt that awful sensation of being transformed out of nowhere only to realize they’re fine. Gidel escapes without out too much trauma since he was cursed just before the Hero Trio and Fellow went out in search of the "Boss" and was therefore the last one to get masked.

Ace, however, despite not being turned into wood, will be having extreme nightmares and guilt and anxiety.

For reasons that will be hinted at in the chapters I'm currently working on and will be fully revealed at the end of Book Two, he'll be blackmailing El into going to the Amusement Park with him- and thus blames himself when she turns into wood.

He already has nightmares from Riddle's Overblot when Eleanora fell into a temporary coma (though it hasn't been really shown that he has nightmares, his fear of her dying and getting hurt badly does make itself known in his protectiveness- which we have seen) but, because of his pettiness, she died. Even if only for a couple minutes, she was gone.

He's going to have severe nightmares about Eleanora dying again and again because of him, and her turning into wood being sold off as a puppet. Ace is going to despise puppets in all their forms, sock, wood, paper- etc.

And every time he sees her walking around with her cane, he's going to remember what happened at Playful Land. Ace, Ortho, and Kalim may have avoided getting cursed in this, and Ortho and Kalim are overall unbothered (Kalim being used to trauma and it just being par to the course, which is in itself its own trauma, and Ortho being a robot who merely just feels bad because if they had listened to Eleanora to begin with, none of this would have happened) but Ace?

Not only will he be blaming himself, but Deuce is going to blame him as well and beat the ever living crap out of him when he discovers Eleanora in another coma and Poma, our sparkly school nurse, pushing his unique magic to the limit trying to heal her.

It's gonna be rough.

[ponyosmom35]

you don't like me, I don't like you

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter two!

Synopsis: Reader is new, she's a medic whom is strictly on base. She is not enlisted in the military. She's there due to her older sisters training for Taskforce 141, her sister made a deal with Laswell, the pair were a packaged deal. Ghost hasn't been taking her arrival well as he feels like she's a waste of space. He is not afraid to let her know for the second time since they've met.

warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, ghost is scary, reader is stubborn

Link to full Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

After finally finishing the last part of the report Ghost sighs and closes his computer. It was nearly 3 am and he was exhausted. He stands up, stretching his sore limbs slightly, and walks to his door, he shuts the light off and closes it behind him, locking it. In the distance, he could hear banging. He frowns knowing that it was lights out, so nobody should be awake. He notices the light coming from the training center and walks in angrily. He notices the new medic. Younger sister of Sergeant Emma James, one of the finest in the training program. Price had her transferred to his base so he could keep an eye on her, testing to see if she’d be a good fit for 141. He was unsure why Laswell had requested her medic sister be transferred as well. The girl had been nothing but a pain in his ass from the moment she arrived. She didn’t belong there, what use was a medic if she was strictly on base, no military experience.  He scoffs as he notices her incorrect form as she punches the bag over and over, her stance was off and her hands weren’t even taped correctly. He stomps over to her and turns off the music she had playing in the background. She whips around and glares at him angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, snatching the speaker from him

“You shouldn’t be out here, its light out”

“I don’t care” 

“Go back to your room, no one is allowed out here”

“Then why are you here?” she questions, staring at him with raised eyebrows 

“The rules don’t apply to me”

“So you’re above it all now?” she asks sarcastically 

“I’m the Lieutenant” he deadpans 

“I don’t really care to be honest” 

“Listen, I don't think you understand. You don't belong here. You're not a solider. You are a medic. So, get back to your rom and stay there. Otherwise, I'm going to have to report you to Captain Price for insubordination. Do I make myself clear?” Ghost warns, his tone incredibly threatening. It takes everything in her not to show her fear.  

“I’m not enlisted in the military”

“Listen, you may work for Laswell, but you're still on a military base, and that makes you subject to military law. Go to your room, or I will order the guards to take you there myself. Understood?”

“what guards Luitentant? looks like it’s just you and me here” she says gesturing to the empty room.

“Don't test me, medic. Just go back to your room, and don't come out until morning. Is that a clear enough order for you?”

“like I said, I don't take orders from you Ghost” she sneers 

“You're making a mistake. Let me spell it out for you, Either you agree to do what I say and when I say it, or I'll call Laswell and have her pull you out of this task force and send you back to the states. Is that clear?”

“First you bitch about my lack of training, now you're bitching at me to go to bed! make up your goddamn mind!”

“So that's your attitude then? Fine, I'll call Laswell right now and explain the situation. There’s an endless amount of army medics who do us good in the field. You’re easy to replace”

“fuck you” she says as she tries to push past him, making sure to hit him with her shoulder

“Listen!” he snaps, grabbing her arm and pull her back towards him, his tone growing more serious as his expression darkens.

“ I've been trying to be patient with you, but that time is over. Now listen up, because I'm going to say this once. You are here because you're part of a team and you're expected to behave like it. And that means doing what I say, no questions asked. Do you understand?”

“If I say yes will you finally shut the fuck up?”

“I wasn't finished speaking, and you will show a little more respect to me and this unit. Now, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

“yes! I heard you perfectly clear” she responds as she turns her back on him and walks towards the sleeping quarters. 

“Fucking hell” 

-

The next morning Ghost had asked Soap to bring her to his office the next morning. He could not have her behave that way around the others. Disrespect was not permitted here. Someone needed to teach her. It dones’t take long for a knock to appear at his door. 

“Come in” he yells gruffly 

Soap opens the door for her and pats her on the shoulder gently. He sends Ghost a look before shutting it behind him. Ghost motions for her to enter and sit down at the chair across from his desk. “Now that you’ve slept on it, what have you got to say for yourself? I hope you've got a real good excuse for that behavior last night”

“what do you want me to say? want me to tell you I'm on my period or that I'm just that naturally charming?” she says sarcastically, her arms crossed as she sits down. 

“What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to go against direct orders from a superior officer”

“I see that we're going in circles here, so why don't we just cut the shit. you don't like me, I don't like you. For whatever reason you've been out to get me since I got here. Look man I'm just trying to do my job, so if you want me to stop 'defying orders'”  she quotes him sarcastically “then you should just let me do what I came here to”

“You don't get it, do you? It has nothing to do with me not liking you or some personal vendetta that you think I have against you. The fact of the matter is, you're not qualified to be a part of this operation. You don't have the training, skills, or experience to handle yourself in a dangerous situation. What you're doing is putting yourself and other members of the task force at risk, and I'm not going to tolerate it.”

“my position has nothing to do with the field, I'm strictly on base!” she exclaims 

“That is not the point. You're still on duty, and you're still responsible for the safety and well-being of the task force. You're a liability, not a help, when it comes down to it. If we need an immediate evac and the other actual medics are already in the field then what? we send you in because you're all we got. The last thing I need right now is to worry about keeping you safe instead of focusing on the mission. So, do you understand why you're nothing but a burden to me on this task force?”

“I've been called many things in my life, but never a burden. that's a new one thanks Ghost you truly never fail to surprise me! But you aren't gonna bully me out of here. Laswell wanted me here and I'm gonna do my job” she says standing “Also for future reference, the medic that could be saving your life one day really isn't the person to piss off”

“Oh trust me, I'm well aware” his skull-covered face inching closer as he leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into hers. She stands tall and refuses to let him see how truly nervous he made her. ”But while we're giving life advice, let me give you some. If I were you, I would be very careful about who you choose to piss off. Because if I have to deal with your bullshit again, I'll make sure you regret it. Is that clear?”

She salutes him sarcastically and walks out the door. Ghost rolls his eyes and sighs in frustration. 

“Bloody hell” he murmurs before going back to his paperwork. 

chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733828281298780160/show-him?source=share

[remyfire]

Thinking about Louise and Trapper this morning got my mind racing and I had a scenario come to mind that I don't think I have the time to turn into a fanfic, but I wanted to share it here anyway in case anyone else enjoys it.

CW: A brief but explicit description of sex.

Trapper postwar sneaks a photo of him and Hawkeye home with him and tries to keep it hidden from Louise. I feel like in whatever verse this would be, Trapper probably wrote to his daughters more about Daddy's Friend Hawkeye than mentioning him much to Louise in the few letters he sent home specifically to her. Maybe he wrote about Hawkeye quite a bit initially, then suddenly cut to never mentioning him to Louise, even conveniently ignoring any time she might've asked about That Surgeon Friend Of Yours while he wrote around the question in his replies home.

Trap doesn't talk about Hawkeye once he gets home, not a word. He's so frigid and tense, rigid too, only really loosens up with the girls. He's intimate with Louise once or twice, but it's few and far between and he makes excuses whenever Louise initiates sex.

But there's one night—something big, maybe the anniversary of Henry's death—when Trapper slides over to her side of the bed, quietly but passionate seducing her with a growing fervor, but they get as far as both of them being naked before she realizes he's not actually hard and when she points it out, he's embarrassed, pulls back sharply and tries to just roll over and go to sleep.

But Louise is undeterred. She wraps herself around his back with all her limbs, kisses and nips at his shoulder and throat, and when she finally feels him starting to relax, she asks him what he wants tonight, that she'll do anything she can. And it takes a few minutes for Trapper to get the words out—his tongue is too thick in his mouth and when she puts her hand over his heart, it's racing so fast that she's surprised he hasn't passed out. But eventually he finds a clumsy way to say that he wants her to fuck him. She asks if he means riding him and he says no, reiterates, he wants her to fuck him. And god, they've never done that before. Trapper's always taken her with such feverish passion, loved being inside of her.

Her silence makes him anxious and he begins to pull away again, but Louise blurts, "On your back or your front?" and Trapper holds his breath for a long few seconds, waiting for her to change her mind, before he rolls onto his hands and knees. He's up there maybe a second before his front half crumples and he buries his face in his pillow, ass still up in the air.

It takes Louise a few minutes to figure things out. She's got to be a sight, she thinks, her tight barrel curls wildly mussed and flying everywhere, completely naked but for her wide-open white robe, probably looks like the world's weirdest ghost rooting through the pantry in the dead of night. But she had plenty of needs of her own while Trapper was away, and with two little girls who always needed her attention and no contact with her own family for personal reasons (she hates their guts, as you do), it wasn't like she could go trawling the bars and bringing joes home to fuck her. So when she gets back to the bedroom, she tentatively rubs at his hole with a little bit of vegetable oil and when Trapper whines into the pillow—whines, a sound she's barely ever heard from him—she drips a little more onto her fingers, then cautiously begins stretching him out like he often had to do with her in those first months of marriage when she had trouble adjusting to his size.

I'm imagining Louise doesn't own a dildo because she has no idea how to get a hold of one and especially doesn't want to ask the wrong person and have her looked down on in some way as a mother—she already feels like she must be the worst kind of wife, thanks to Trap's occasional bitter treatment of her for one reason or another over the years, and like hell is she gonna risk somebody saying she's a shit mother or a dangerous influence—but after she has Trap prepped, she pulls out her hairbrush that's served her many a night and fucks him with the handle.

Trapper gasps and moans for her in ways that he rarely does, and when she quietly asks, "Still good, John?" he freezes, then lifts his head just enough to say, "Call, call me Trap, okay?" And it's a nickname that Louise has always been wary of, but what is she going to say, no? So she does. And the moment she whispers that name, Trapper begins crying into the pillow, is still weeping when Louise gets a hand around his cock and jerks him off until he comes.

And I'm imagining Trapper pulls Louise close, curls up in a little ball as he buries his face in her neck like a child hiding from the world, and she...is pretty sure she understands quite a bit more about her husband than she did an hour ago. So when she quietly asks, "I bet you miss your friend very much. Hawkeye, yeah?" he sniffles, begins to cry again, but gentler this time. And it's halting and coaxing, asking gentle questions that confirm her suspicions—that this man was her husband's lover in Korea, that he's the only person who kept Trapper sane—and every time he goes quiet with fear at what her next response might be, she simply keeps rubbing his back and talking about whatever comes to mind, anything at all to do with Hawk and with Trap's time spent with him. They're still talking when the sun rises. It's the most words he's said to her in literal months.

Hawk finally gets a letter from Trapper two weeks later, written on Louise's stationary and with the pen she'd pushed into Trap's hand. And at the end of it, Hawkeye gets an open invitation to drop by Boston the second he gets home, signed by both of them.

[as-i-watch]

Do you know what the biggest lie ever told in one piece is?

"There are only 5 devil fruits that can fly"

I mean Pell sounded cool when he said it but it has gotten worse over time with every devil fruit that appears.

Let's go down the list from least to most ridiculous DF users who can fly.

ACTUAL BIRDS:

-Pell [Bird Bird fruit: Model Falcon]

-Marco [Bird Bird fruit: Model Phoenix]

-Morgans [Bird Bird fruit: Model Albatross ]*

*Morgans is flightless in his hybrid form, but Albatrosses can naturally fly for long distances*

-Buzz [Bird Bird fruit Model eagle]**

**Buzz is a noncanon character from the movie One piece strawhat chase. He is a dog**

OTHER FLYING ANIMALS:

-Cub [bug bug fruit: Model rhinoceros beetle]

-Bian [bug bug fruit: Model hornet]

While bugs are known for crawling, these two tontatas have DFs who's species can naturally fly.

-King [Dragon Dragon fruit: Model Pteranodon]

Flying is the only natural thing that King does with his fruit. All the fire stuff is unique to King

-Kaido/Momonosuke [DF NAME UNKNOWN]

Momo can fly by summoning clouds and walking on them but dragons appear to have the innate ability to fly as shown with Kaido

BIRD BY TECHNICALITY:

-Toragatsu [Bird Bird fruit Model: Nue]

Torgatsu is a noncanon character from the One Piece x Kyoto art show. The nue is a chimera like creature from Japanese folklore that has the body of a tiger, head of a monkey and a snake for a tail. Alternatively it can be described as having the back of a tiger, the limbs of a tanuki, the tail of a fox, the head of a cat, and the torso of a chicken. It is a bird fruit because the name Nue also refers to the scaly thrush bird that the chimera mimics. Torgatsu can fly by summoning rainbow colored flames.

LOGIAS:

All known logia users [with the exceptions of Aokiji, Akainu*, Blackbeard &Caribou ] can fly via elemental propulsion. [*Akainu is in a different category]

-Ace/Sabo [flame flame fruit]

-Smoker [plume plume fruit](smoke)

-Crocodile [Sand sand fruit]*

*the presence of these 3 fruits alone in alabasta immediately invalidated Pell's statement*

-Kizaru [glint glint fruit] (light)

-Enel [Rumble Rumble fruit] (Lightning)

-Caesar Clown [Gas Gas fruit]

-Monet [Snow snow fruit]

PARAMECIA SHENANIGANS

-Shiki [Float Float fruit]

man can just straight up fly

-Trafalgar Law [Op Op fruit]

-Fujitora [Press Press fruit]

-Eustass Kid [Magnet Magnet Fruit]

The above manipulate their environment to create platforms that they ride on.

-Big Mom [Soul soul fruit]

Can use her soul to create constructs that she rides on

-Perona [Hollow Hollow fruit]

Can fly by turning herself into a ghost.

-buffalo [Spin Spinf Fruit]

Can fly by helicoptering his body parts.

IS IT FLYING IF I DON'T TOUCH THE GROUND?

-Akainu [Mag mag fruit]

Has been shown to use his magma to propel himself short distances but hasn't shown the ability to fly

-Magellan [Venom Venom fruit]

Can create pathways of poison that allow him to fast travel around impel down

FLIGHT BY TECHNICALITY

-Buggy [Chop chopper fruit]

his body parts can Float around within a certain radius of him, excluding his feet.

DOESNT COUNT AS FLYING

-Ms. Valentine [Kilo Kilo fruit]

Reducing her weight to 1Kg allows her to jump really high into the air and slowly fall down

??????

Karasu [DF UNKNOWN]

Can turn himself into a murder of crows and fly.

SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO FLY AT ALL

-Doflamingo[string string fruit]

He flies by spidermaning his way through the air, sticking his strings to clouds

-Robin [flower flower fruit]

Grows several dozen arms that she fuses into a pair of wings

-Luffy [Gum Gum fruit]

Gear 4. Contracts and expands his legs with so much speed and force that it generates thrust.

There are probably some others that I missed but these are the major ones for where you are.

This a really cool categorization and also

Perhaps it was meant that only 5 DF like actually come with wings and the other ones just elevate their powers to do all that crazy shit

Or perhaps is further evidence Oda makes it all up as he goes along (most likely lol)

[astheforcewillsit]

Title: The Gathering ao3 link//tw past suicide attempt/suicidal ideation Summary:

For the Jedi, wins after Order 66 are far and few between. But they've managed to keep Appo alive for another day. The younglings consider that a win.

When Caleb finally joins the group of younglings (though he's hesitant to call it a group--Katooni and Ganodi hardly count as that), they are lingering cautiously outside of Appo's suite. Katooni's eyes light up when she spots Caleb, though the wringing in her fingers does not stop.

Ganodi does slow her pacing, though tugs on her padawan beads anxiously. Katooni sports a set of her own too, and they sway as she approaches Caleb. Like the few younglings who managed to survive Order 66, they were granted the rank of padawans.

"We've been waiting for hours. He didn't come down when we called him for breakfast."

Caleb nods stiffly and presses the ringing mechanism. He waits--nothing.

He knocks afterwards. Still--nothing.

A flood of anxiety erupts in his stomach, but he wills it down as he thinks of the first logical thing that comes to his mind.

It could be that he just can't hear them. These rooms used to belong to older Masters, and were more spacious than the others.

The Jedi had granted it to Appo to give him some privacy after Order 66. And mainly because the previous occupant, one of the many fallen Jedi, was dead.

Caleb was furious at first. Fury bordering the Dark Side--or so he'd been told. But more frankly, he was enraged that their Order, still reeling from Order 66, let a clone live with them.

The sentiment was shared amongst some of the others.

They were broken--the entire Order. A sea of missing limbs, of cloth bandages (because Force they'd run out of bacta), and funding nearly drained.

The Sith being revealed as the Chancellor did little to nothing to help their reputation. The Galaxy blamed the Jedi for the Clone Wars.

More than they blamed the clones.

And Caleb, in his anger, had let everyone know his thoughts about a clone living in the temple. A clone who ran down defenseless younglings with his blasters, who led his men into alcoves and crannies Caleb and his friends used to hide in when they were little.

His home had been tainted with ghost that would not leave. They were still removing the stains. Every week someone found a new body.

He didn't care that Appo shot Skyawlker. He didn't care that he had a supposed chip in his head.

He just cared that Appo was there, and he was the closest thing he could direct his anger at. He wanted him gone.

At that moment, he wanted Appo dead.

And then the next day, he walked into Appo swinging by his neck on a rope.

Caleb hasn't touched the Force since then. But he thinks he'll have to use it today if Appo doesn't leave his room.

"It's been almost four hours." Ganodi speaks in the same way she sounded when they cut Appo down, and told them he had a small pulse.

'Okay," Caleb says--Kanan--he likes that name now. He used it when he was on the run, and uses it when he needs to be strong. Caleb hid when Depa died. Kanan helped him survive.

"Stand back."

There is an dread about them as Kanan focuses his will on the door. He doesn't mean to tear it clean off. But the Force is new to him, and since Depa died he can't regulate as well as he used to.

He closes his eyes, and let's the Force guide him.

It's not as clean as he wants it to be. The door rolls off of the sliding mechanism like foil. The metal makes a loud, ugly sound. Katooni covers where Caleb thinks her ears must be, while Ganodi closes her's shut.

Caleb steps over the mess, and immediately finds Appo on the couch. Appo, who's eyes are closed. The sadness has scarred him permanently. Even with his eyes shut, there are heavy bags under them, purple and bruised. He looks older than he should be, and it's not because of the accelerated aging. He looks small on the couch, eaten by the large black hoodie he's wearing and the beige blanket on him.

"Look, there's pills!"

Caleb is free of the mess in a second. Katooni beats him to it though. She's shaking Appo like a rag doll. Ganodi joins too.

"Whoa whoa whoa, I'm awake. I'm awake! Is Coruscant on fire?"

Appo doesn't move like a regular clone anymore. A regular clone would have been up and alert the moment the doors came flying open. Appo is sluggish in his movement, pushing himself up by his elbows as he groggily takes in the wreck of his living room.

He removes his hood, and with it a headphones. His hair is curly, and a bit unkempt.

"You weren't answering the door. We--we thought when we came in, something happened. You weren't waking up." Katooni stammers, "You were supposed to come down for breakfast."

"I'm sorry. I'm on some new sleeping pills. Heavy stuff. heavier than what our medics used to give us to knock out," mechanically, Appo nods towards the half empty bottle, then looks at his door, "I guess they did the job." Caleb scrutinizes the medication. Appo used to scream at night, and he'd heard something about them giving him something to put him to sleep. Caleb couldn't imagine why they would do that.

He thinks Appo is a minor inconvenience away from swallowing the entire thing.

"What were you listening to?" Ganodi doesn't ask when she sits on his couch and takes his headset herself. It's award, maneuvering them on her ears. But she manages.

"It's pretty!" She screams.

They wince.

"Sorry," she apologizes, then says quietly, "this is pretty."

He's less tense around them. Good. He used to not even be able to look at the younglings without feeling guilt. And when Caleb yelled at him? Well that pushed him over the edge. Caleb feels he might as well have given him the rope.

"You should answer your comms. We get scared you know. What if you--" "Caleb, stop." Katooni hisses. She's on her knees with Appo's tooka in her arms, eyes pleading with Caleb to just be normal. Her expression a reminder that they were all hurt.

"What have you three done?" They forgot the door was busted in. Master Kenobi stands outside, jaw dropped and hands on his hips. Caleb is a bit guilty. From what he understands, Kenobi is still cleaning up Skywalker's mess.

"Master, he wasn't answering his door. We commed him earlier...We thought he..." Katooni being the sensible of them all speaks. But even her words fail her.

They do not need to speak to tell Master Kenobi what's befallen them. Why they did what they did. What has transpired. Appo looks tired, his hair curly. Like he hasn't moved in years.

"Goodness, you look just like Cody..." He didn't mean to say it, and by the time it's out he looks so bewildered and disappointed in himself all at once.

"Sir?" "Please forget I said that. Children, out. You have your duties," he fixes his gaze on them, and then at the mess of the door, "And Appo, we will have someone fox the door. I am so sorry."

Katooni returns the tooka to Appo, and threads her fingers in his before she's pulled away by Obi-Wan's presence. Ganodi is no different. She takes the headphones off and hands them back to their owner, squeezing Appo's hand before she leaves.

Caleb lingers, blue eyes locked on brown ones. The last time he turned his back on someone clearly in need, they died.

"Caleb," Obi-Wan says, "We must leave. He will be okay."

It's deeper than that. Caleb is forming an attachment, and everyone knows.

Appo included.

"It's alright," he mumbles, voice lacking all confidence. But stern as it can be.

"Be here...when we get back?" Caleb sounds small, and he feels small. He has a hundred and one things to say. To demand.

They should take the medicine away. His hoodie has strings. His blaster is on his table. Caleb could walk away and never see Appo again, and that terrifies him more than it should.

"Yeah kid, I promise."

Experimentally, Kanan reaches into the Force. It's the only way he'll truly know. When he last did this, when he told Appo to just die, he'd felt a reassurance in the Force that let him know Appo would do just that.

"You mean it?"

"I do." And Appo really means it. The Force is reassuring him, again. But this time, it's different. It's calm, warmth beckoning him back.

He nods and follows Obi-Wan out. He thinks he hears Deppa telling him it will be okay.

[sleep-deprived-tim]

Tim is 17, has hallucinations is currently constantly fighting and arguing with family. He does have coping skills so can usually tell when he is hallucinating the exception being when the hallucination scares him terribly. Tim is genderfluid and uses all pronouns.

ooc info:

mun is an adult, accepts all kind of anon messages. Rps with anyone. Dms are open to lore ideas between muses.

Plot past and present.

(i will try to update this when stuff happens)

breakdown arc -part 1. Tim is a very mentally ill 17 year old both lack of sleep and stress give him auditory and visual hallucinations. One of his deepest fears is his family not believing him when something bad happens as they believe he is just imagining something. That happened with Damian a few times when during halloween a shadow began slowly taking away his soul after becoming his shadow (@little-pumpkin-shadow ). @irl-batsignal ended up taking on the shadow and it stopped using its powers which stopped the soul draining. Tim ended up losing part of his arm which returned after halloweens end.

breakdown + death.

During halloween Tim is gifted a box that contains fear gas in it, it increases his already existent hallucinations and anons begin to feed into his paranoia. Tim ends up running away from the manor hallucinating and believing someone is constantly watching him which leads to him dying. Tim then becomes a full ghost. As a ghost he starts dating @kon-el-kent-the-clone. @damian-al-ghul-wayne ends up asking Tim to show him his corpse and then tries to bring back Tim, he drops the corpse into the pit and it fails. Tim seeing Damian fail to bring him back begins to spiral. He decides to dig up the corpse of someone who looks like him and late at night digs up multiple corpses to find one suitable. He finds someone who hasn't been dead long and possess the corpse bringing it to the pit and that is where he resides now. He takes such a drastic action seeing how deeply his death affected Damian and realising him and Kon would eventually break up as Kon would age out of dating Tim.

breakdown p2.

After coming back Tim ends up calming down a lot, she's medicated and feeling a lot better. Then fully comes to terms with being genderfluid. After finding out Kon lives on his own in a dilapidated building spends time cleaning and repairing the building Kon lives in.

@imbatman-imtired ends up adopting @bat-bunni and things go downhill again. After Bunni is killed by someone called goose and is brought back Tim becomes designated babysitter. The stress of seeing her little sibling die started getting to him and he began neglecting themselves to take care of others. After seeing his family killed kidnapped and tortured he begins completely neglecting to keep up with eating sleeping and taking his medication.

Tim is manipulated by a scientist who wants to experiment on him, they give her the praise she feels is missing from loved ones. After they give him a new spleen Tim becomes sure they are the only people being honest with him. As the manipulation continues he begins to believe his family is out to get her. The scientist ends up removing and replacing several of his limbs so he now refers to himself as frankenstein esc.

[anikabooker]

WASTELAND;

TWs ⸻ body horror, blood, mental anguish, hallucinations, pain.

She was burning up; sweating and shivering pressed against the cold wall. There was a silver tray with food at her feet. She’d rather die of hunger than eat whatever that psychotic bitch had prepared for her. The longer she looked at it the more it seemed like something she chewed up, spat out and put back on a plate. Her bare foot kicked the tray, sending it flying and crashing against the metal door. She'd survived on pieces of bread she kept by her mattress, whenever they brought her some.

She didn’t know night from day. Didn’t really care for it, either. It was the same hell — over and over again. Like being stuck in an endless nightmare. No matter how much she pinched herself, she couldn’t wake up.

How long was this going on for? Had it been a month already? Judging by that wound on her arm, it’s been more than a couple of weeks, because the flesh had begun to fester, some kind of white goo was oozing out and the skin felt hot to the touch. The pain was getting worse. She was suddenly grateful to live in the dark. Without light she wouldn’t be able to see the red worms and their little, white heads moving in and out of the necrotic tissue. She wouldn’t be able to watch how the infection would eventually (if it hasn't already) spread to her arm, swallowing it whole, destroying it nerve by nerve, eating away the memories of holding a paint brush, wielding a weapon, caressing her mothers face for the last time. She couldn't remember what any of that felt like.

The memory of his touch would decompress. Fall away like dead skin.

Sweat rolled down her forehead, heavy lids struggling to remain open as eyes tried to focus on what seemed to be a reappearing shadow — coming in and out of view like it was still choosing who to morph into — what agonizing combination of features would torment her most. She had dreamt of her father, and how scared he must be for her. How they only now had reunited, only to be pulled apart once more. She had dreamed of Valka, and how she'd let her down. Foolish, stupid, downright idiotic. Is that what you've been taught, Anika? All you've known is death. Least you could've taken from her was how to avoid it. There was a dream in which her sisters died over and over again, and each time it was by her hands. And another one where there was water — so much of it. She was swimming at the Carson beach where the water was clear and cold. Just as she remembered it, all those years ago. She dreamed while she slept. But she was awake now, wasn't she? A phantom was coming together slowly with shadowy limbs and lungs that breathed life. A face with washed up blue eyes, and a voice too familiar not to recall the lips it belonged to.

‘You don’t look so great.‘ Reid said, and even as a shadowy thing, his gaze was slowly dismantling her. Perhaps because the memory of his stare still lingered in the back of her mind. ‘Fuck you.‘ ‘You almost did.‘ ‘Fuck you.‘ she spat back louder. ‘Why am I here, Anika?‘ ‘To kill me, I hope.‘

He paused, then clicked his tongue in the most irksome manner. ‘Can’t. I’m not real.‘ Then she watched him evaporate into dark smoke. Mercy was too big a favor to ask from a ghost. Yet a silent plea lingered on her tongue. Put me out of my misery— He'd kill her quicker than those worms would. He'd kill her before any of her other misdeeds would catch up to her. Perhaps that was some fucked up form of divine justice; the woman who took all, had nothing to herself, and the moment she found something it was bound to kill her.

She blinked slowly, in and out of awareness. Blood soaking the bandages making her nose wrinkle at the stench. Her head lulling to the side. Then she saw him again — so close, she almost flexed the fingers she thought she still had to touch him. He brought out a cold hand to brush the moisture from her face — a ghostly kind of touch that she allowed to linger, mostly because her body was fucking unresponsive. Blood loss has made her hallucinate before, but never like this. ‘You can't die in here. It's pathetic, even for you.‘

Tongue wet her parched, chapped lips. ‘What the fuck do you care?‘ The laugh that followed was low and hollow, filling her up with dread. He opened his mouth, closed it, the edge of a smirk was fighting its way across his lips — like he was a shapeshifting thing. Tearing itself between who he was and who she wanted to turn him into. ‘You fucking mute or something now?‘ she groaned. ‘Came here to torture me, then go on—‘ ‘You're doing all that on your own.‘ ‘Shut up.‘ she winced. ‘Drink the water.‘ ‘Don't tell me what to fucking do.‘ Her voice was raw, tearing up her dry throat. She'd slam her head against the wall repeatedly until her skull had cracked, if it meant she didn't have to listen to him anymore. If it meant he'd seep out of her head the way blood would out of the wound. Yet, she barely had the strength to keep her eyes open.

Shadows danced across the walls. They melted into him. Molded into different kinds of shapes, people, beings — tall, small, large or slim. Stop. Sweat soaked through her clothes. Her face white as snow. She could feel herself fading, like the last feeble flickers of light at the end of a dark corridor.

‘Don't die, Anika.‘

[mini-leafster]

~ the cave was a thing. Yep. It still is. Starting again.

So after Maple got perforated Pin was informed on how to do necromancy. Maple's dead body was teleported to Pin and she prepared it for plantcromancy. At some point Leafy fucked off to watch ghost TV. We can't recover her because of this and she's been watching BFDI for days so she probably got past BFB 5 and hasn't realized she diverged her timeline because ghost. The last sentence is not confirmed but is something I think about from time to time. What is canon is that Coiny got teleported to Pin when she was going full garden. There are so many soil hands, Junior. I can't tell if it's just the corpse hospital or if Pin decided to disarm civilians again. She was doing this to grow a tree out of Maple's corpse. Pin almost took Coiny's arms again but it was funnier if she took his legs we decided. Also he couldn't run to tell people about the war crimes. Coiny kinda... Deactivated. He's okay but knowing what happened around the tree he's likely missing a limb or two. Around this time the Funny blue plant disowned his kid and fell into drugpression. He is currently being talked out of being suicidal and talked into taking his child who loves him very much back. Shroomy got sick in some way I don't know how but she now has children born from the corpses of two of her victims. We healed her from dying very recently. Her kids are playing with FBP'S child. The tree Pin propagated out of the corpse finally worked and you got mild memory issues. Maple got a makeover by the random future person and is set into murder mode atm. Just another day for you guys. That's all well and good but more importantly Pin has facilitated your rebirth! In cultivatinyou and Maple from the same place from the same corpse and by her own two hands Pin did something significant. You two now legally qualify as sisters! And more than thaaaat.

*Slams fist on table*

PIN IS NOW TO YOUR MOTHER.

..Yeah, y'know how I was saying "that angry feeling went away"? Uh. Ditch that entire sentence.

Also, that fits concerningly well. Um.

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Summary: Kai and Nya run into someone unexpected.

Warnings: Kai considers murdering a child

Prompt: Day 16 - Time Travel

Extra: I had another direction I was gonna go with this, where Wu and Morro sat down and looked through a photo album, but then Season 7 and the time travel prompt hit me in the face and now this happened. Set when Kai, Nya, and Wu travel 40 years back in time during Season 7.

Nya and I rushed to make it in time. For Wu's sake. For the future's sake.

The plan was to pretend to be our parents, get the Time Twins back to the present- or future? Kai shook his head, there's no point in dwelling on specifics. They get the Reverse Blade, then get rid of the Time Twi-

About to run into someone, I yanked Nya close as I rocketed them upwards. Stifling a yell, Nya glared at me, and I sheepishly shrugged at her. We glanced down to see what I dragged us away from, only for our jaws to drop in unison.

Misako, a younger brunette version of her, pulled a kid down the steps.

But not just any kid.

A screaming, flailing, angry, child-sized, living Morro.

It was almost uncanny how similar this child and that evil-monster-danger ghost looked alike, until I reminded myself that they were the same person. He had black hair and the same unnatural green lock, although his skin wasn't tainted a sickly green, nor did he have those darker eye marks, and he seemed a bit smaller. But regardless, the wind master screamed.

"LET ME GO, I CAN HELP! MISAKO!" the boy repeated some variations of that same line constantly, swinging limbs making it difficult for the brunette woman to safely escort the child down.

It would be so easy to blast the kid off the mountainside, a sinister thought slithered through his mind, coiling around his consciousness. It would save Lloyd from the night terrors, the constant fear of possession, the way he looked at Cole. My sister gave me a hardened look, obviously knowing what I was thinking. Not surprised, we could never hide things from each other.

"He's just a kid," she whispered.

"So is Lloyd," I shot back.

"He hasn't done anything wrong yet."

"But he will."

"So?" Nya sighed. "I get it, Kai. But if we change this, the future won't be the same. It could destroy our future."

I pursed my lips, rage still simmered under my skin. That monster child hurts Lloyd in the future.

"Please," Morro teared up. "I can help! I'm strong enough, I can protect them."

My head snapped towards the duo. Misako had stopped trying to walk down the stairs, and Morro had stopped trying to escape, allowing her to set him down with firm hands on his shoulders.

"I know you want to help, and I know you're strong, but we would never be able to forgive ourselves if you got hurt, Morro." Misako reasoned, a soft glint in her eyes. "We all love you, and I need you to trust that the other's can handle this. Capiche?"

Morro glared at the stairs he stood on, as if he could bring down the Time Twins by taking down the mountain itself by his stare.

"...capiche," he mumbled, allowing himself to be brought down the rest of the flight of stairs by Misako's steady grip on his small calloused hands.

The anger seeped out of me. I took a focused breath, and landed us near the monastery.

"Let's finish what we came here to do."

[soaps-mohawk]

So I saw the scruffing ask and HEAR ME OUT:

First off: Ahhhhhh!!!! (Inarticulate noise of excitement!!!)

Okay okay okay, secondly, it would be neat and cool and stuff to have reader be doing something around base and maybe one of the boys steps away for a moment and a random visiting alpha just scruffs her, thinking she’s just another recruit, but GHOST SEES and HOO BOI, we’re gonna have a rumble!! And then after maybe maybe maybe—Ghost is the only one available/on base to comfort her 😏 Helloooooo bonding moment! (Honestly seeing Ghost so grumpy makes me wanna curl up in his lap like a kitten and slowly encourage him to love and accept me 🤣) Anyways, just a thought!

You are such an incredible author and all of this lore building is just feeding my obsession with this fic! The crazy amount of detail and work you’ve put into this project just absolutely floors me every time I see you answer an ask…thank you so much for sharing these amazingly creative thoughts with us!

I hope your week is going well so far for you 💙 You absolutely deserve all of the good things in life, even if your silly little brain tells you otherwise. He’s a liar and fraud!

Always, Blue 💙

Hehe that alpha would be a pile of limbs left in the middle of the road to be found by literally everyone on base after that. Ghost would torture him slow and as agonizingly as possible. He'll be begging for death before Ghost even thinks about removing a limb.

Scruffing will come into play later in the fic, though I'm not going to give any details as to when or how or why. You'll just have to wait and see in that regard.

Thank you, though. This fic has become so much more than I thought it ever would and I'm so eternally grateful to all of my wonderful readers. It's really because of y'all that this fic has even gotten to this point. I owe a lot to y'all and I'm really excited to continue writing and seeing everyone's reactions to the fic.

My week hasn't been too bad (it's still only monday so that could change lol). Still got a lot more to do and a chapter to write 💚