#but even the ghosts have more color than you do...

[yoonjae20]

Danny deeply distrusts the Justice League

Based on the wonderful @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.

I really feel like they aren't enough fanfics or prompts where Danny dislikes the Justice League — and continues to dislike them even after everything (Anti-Ecto Acts) is revealed and taken care of. (Or maybe I'm not looking in the right places — if you guys have any recommendations put them in the Tags or Comments!)

Read on ao3. Masterpost

After many years Danny has finally retired — sure he had to leave everything he loved and that was familiar to him behind for it, but it was worth it. He had a small little house that was his own, he would water his plants every morning and make small talk with his neighbors. Everything was fine. 

Everything turns not so fine, when there’s a sudden knock on his door. Expecting it to be one of his neighbors — for example needing eggs or flour (a neighbor’s kid had needed eggs to bake one of her parents a cake and Danny had been more than willing to spare the few she needed) — he opens the door without a second thought.

Only to almost immediately want to close it again. 

Because that’s the Justice League standing in front of his door. And that can mean nothing good.

Before Danny can slam the door closed, Superman‘s shoe slides in between the door frame, blocking his escape. The smile the man shoots him is probably meant to be reassuring, but the only thing Danny feels is dread. 

To most civilians the Justice League is seen as a beacon of hope — but to Danny? He knows the bitter truth. When he needed them the most they turned his back on him before chasing him across half the globe calling him a villain without even hearing his side of the story. They handed him over the GIW for Ancient’s Sake. He would have died if it weren’t for Tucker and Sam. (He may not have scars to show for it but he can still feel his chest burn when he thinks back to it.) Not that they can remember that though. He still doesn’t trust them. 

“You are Danny Fenton, correct?” Superman asks and Danny stiffens. 

Fenton — not Nightingale like he has changed his surname into to escape his parents influence and leave everything behind. 

“Yes,” he says warily — seeing no point in lying. Considering Batman is lingering behind Superman the Detective would figure it out instantly. 

“And you used to be Amity’s Park’s vigilante Phantom?”

Danny grips the door frame, knuckles white. What’s their point? Are they trying to intimidate him?

“Yes,” he grits out. 

“We were told that you are the one we should seek out in matters involving Ghosts and the Infinite Realms,” Superman continues, but Danny doesn’t let him finish.

“I’m retired,” he interrupts. “Find someone else.”  

“There’s a world-ending event,” Superman says like that would convince Danny. Like Danny hadn’t lived though so many of them — had to prevent them from happening without anyone’s help every single time. Guilt-tripping much? “Even if you don’t want to fight — we need you as an advisor.”

Danny snorts, shaking his head. 

“Go take up the matter with the Justice League Dark then.” 

Danny moves to close the door, but still Superman’s foot doesn’t budge. He could probably brute-force his way through this — but Danny’s tired and he’s not in the mood to explain to his neighbors why his door is broken and he needs to do repairs.

He glares at them and to his surprise Superman actually takes a step back — but still not enough to be able to close the door. 

Danny hasn’t transformed into Phantom since he left Amity Park. Had kept that part of himself locked away — would have separated his Ghost Self from himself if he didn’t know he would be selfish for that. Had ignored his Obsession even if it screamed at him — had pushed it away in his Human Form even if it muted all the colors around him and it meant that every breath was a painful wheeze.

Faced with this situation he almost wants to break the promise he made to himself — but he can’t.

There is no GIW anymore —  Danny had made sure of that. He had wiped all of their files and his parents published research with the help of Technus. He had dismantled both portals to the Ghost Zone and made sure no one would be able to replicate it. But Danny also knows the Justice League — knows how much Superman’s punches hurt, how it feels to get mind controlled — they could overpower him in an instant if he twitched as much as into the wrong direction.  

He really doesn’t have a choice here, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t go out of his free will — they will force him with any means necessary, of that much he is sure. 

His gaze trails to his neighbor’s house and the swing in their backyard. And if they are right and he turns them away — is he sure he won’t feel any guilt if something happens that he could have prevented? Sometimes Danny really hates his Martyr Complex. 

Danny sighs, defeated.

“What do you need my help for?”

They had liked their new neighbor despite the fact that he barely left his house other than to water his plants. They had known that the young man was sickly. He looked like death wormed him over and was weak on his feet— his ice-blue eyes dull. His smile barely held any warmth in it.

Still they invited them over after he had given their daughter eggs to bake the cake for their birthday. They learned that he was kind and had escaped to their small village to live a quiet life. 

When the young man came to tell them that he would be out of town for a few days and to please water his plants if they could, they were worried.

“Are you sure that you are fine, son?” they asked and touched the man’s forehead — but it was icily cold like the rest of their skin had always been. “You look even paler than usual.”

The young man had only given them a half-hearted smile and affirmed them that he was fine

Their daughter's excited steps had hurried behind them and she tugged on their pants after the man had left. 

“Was that Uncle Danny?” the girl asked. “Can I play with him?”

They gave their daughter a weak smile. 

“Uncle Danny is busy for a few days,” they explained. “Later, okay? How about you draw him a picture while we wait for him to come back? So he has something to look forward to?” 

Their daughter nodded and raced back to the living room, searching for supplies, while they continued looking out of the window. They can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.  

It’s unnerving how quiet the young man is. 

There are no easy smiles, sassy quips and puns like from the few shaky phone videos they had pulled from the internet about Phantom. 

He’s meticulous. Probably even more than Batman — and that is a statement. There had been a deep mistrust in the eyes when they had located him and asked him to help them. It’s evident in every step he makes. He double-, even triple-checks every single evidence, every single sentence, every single word they say. 

Nothing is left unturned as he works the way though the situation like if he is dealing with a case. He never stops moving, always doing something — reading through heavy leather-bound books or through their reports. His heart rate is so slow that Clark sometimes wonders if the boy is still breathing at all. 

When the young man had asked them if they spoke to the leader regarding the war declaration and the reasons behind them, he had clicked his tongue when they told him no.

He hadn’t let anyone help him when he drew out the summoning cycle — it looked even more intricate and complicated than they had seen from Zatanna or Constantine. When he had spoken the words for the spell,  his words had sounded ancient and undescribable — hushed whispers following every single word. He clasped his hands and only opened his eyes when he spoke the last word, his eyes burning a deep green. 

The cycle goes up in green fire before a form appears — Clark recognizes the Ghost from the declaration. 

The man’s cold gaze sweeps over the Justice League before it stops on Phantom. He smirks, bowing his head slightly.

“I greet the Prince of the Infinite Realms.”

“Cut the crap Fright Knight,” Phantom's voice is steel-hard. “We both know I refused that position.”

The man tilts his head but nods.

“Very well,” he says. “I greet Phantom, savior of the Infinite Realms.”

Phantom grits his teeth like he wants to refuse that title too before he shakes his head. He gestures to the Justice League.

“Explain.”

“We are just paying back what has been done to us,” Fright Knight claims. “Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.”

“Life is short, art is long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult,” Diana translates for them. 

“I see the Daughter of the Queen of the Amazons knows her arts,” the man’s voice has a hint of mockery. “Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. Ignorantia legis non excusat:”

Diana’s eyebrows knit together as she listens. 

“Mankind is too greedy for lies. Ignorance of the law does not excuse,” her voice is almost a whisper. 

“I would have thought you would know of this Phantom,” Fright Knight addresses the young man again. “But now seeing your state, you probably didn’t feel the call for the announcement either. Is there a reason why you are starving yourself?”

Phantom doesn’t meet any of their eyes as he answers.

“That is unimportant to this situation.”

Fright Knight’s lips twitch back into a grin. 

“If the savior of the Infinite Dreams claims so, then I have no choice but to accept it.” He turns back to the Justice League. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”

“If you want peace, prepare for war.”

“When have we been ignorant?” Batman finally steps in. 

Fright Knight huffs out a dark laugh.

“When has mankind not been ignorant?” Fright Knight questions. “When your government captured my brethren and tortured them, where were you? When they declared us as non-sentient and staged war against us, where were you? When they threatened to destroy our home, where were you?”

The man’s eyes seem to burn as he repeats himself.

“Where were you?”

Clark and the rest of the League are shocked to silence. 

“Now that the danger has passed, why should we just forgive you? Why should we forget?” Fright Knight continues. “If we are not worthy enough to be counted towards mankind that means we just have to rewrite the rules. And since we were never given the chance to negotiate, that means by force.”

“The Meta-Protection Acts-” 

“Only count towards those that are alive.” Fright Knight interrupts Batman. “After all, how can the dead feel any emotions such as pain? I’m sure if you ask your government they will hand you a lot of pretty reports on the biased experiments that prove so.” 

“But that’s-” Clark starts but Fright Knight doesn’t let him finish.

“Despicable? When has that ever stopped mankind?” Fright Knight asks. “We can talk if there isn't a law that states that we can be eradicated without any consequences.”

Before either of them can stop him, Fright Knight swishes his cape made out of purple fire and disappears. Clark faintly asks himself if that is how other people feel when Batman does that in front of their noses. 

Seeing no other option the entire League turns back to Phantom who hasn’t said a single word since the Ghost went on his tirade.

“Phantom-” Batman tries, but the young man’s eyes burn with so much hate that the normally stoic man stocks in his words. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Phantom seethes. “You heard him. Now finally do your jobs right for once.”

Then he leaves the room without a single glance back.

Clark gulps as they look at each other.

“I feel like we made a mistake.”

When the news declares the Anti-Ecto Acts as abolished, Danny feels nothing but exhaustion. The Justice League barely managed to avoid a large-scale — and very justified war. 

Danny leans back tiredly on his sofa. His eyes trail to the drawing his neighbor’s daughter had given him and the first genuine smile in months graces his lips.

“What I don’t do for mankind,” he sighs before he closes his eyes. 

[niechys]

I am hereby exercise my right to use tape in this jenga tower of writings started by @keferon

I made a fanart of this event once, but didn't have all the components. Now we do.

Rescue mission!! everyone is here!!!

Blurr + Swerve section were made as this comic here.

Which happens after this event here

And on TexAid side, after this Shockwave's mindscape endless Tuesday server from here.

it gets long so all under cut!

------------------

"Let's go over the short version again. So..You and your friend are alien that kind of like living robots?" Blurr said as he pilot Swerve to walk along the corridor.

"Pretty much, yeah. Oh, turn right here" Swerve answered, directing Blurr as they go. Trying their best to not be spotted.

"And you met Jazz"

"Yeah"

"I remembered when he disappeared. You guys met him then you came to Earth?" He repeated what the alien-robot-ghost friend of his had explained earlier.

"Yep, then Shockwave captured me and Prowl"

"Right, Prowl..." Blurr repeated the name, murmured it few more times under his breath.

"Now...Prowl is well guarded...We are gonna need help. Do you happened have a phone?"

--------

Deadlock stop when he spotted the form on the big slab which Ratchet told him were their objective. They were suppose to steal this mech away to save him. Ratchet already went ahead and try to free the mech from all the wiring.

"Do I have to save that guy? He's an Autobot. A very high ranking Autobot"

"I don't know what's that about, kid. But we already promise we'd help Jazz and his friend" Ratchet answered as he disconnected wires and restraints. Trying to call to Jazz inside the cockpit.

"I didn't know his friend was an Autobot" Deadlock still wouldn't move from his spot, but already unsupspaced a couple of guns.

"It seems there are some rats in my lab" A voice called out from above, probably from the room's speaker. They looked up, couldn't see anyone, but one of the high window lit up, a silhouette of a man inside.

"Shockwave..." Ratchet scowl.

The wall to the side burst open. A dark mech. almost as tall as the room was high stepped in. Two black blades in hands, dragging on the floor leaving long marks. Visor glowing maliciously red, hovering, staring, unfeeling.

"You human sure make big toys, huh" Deadlock move to shield Ratchet behind him. The mech slowly stalked towards them.

"Why the fuck is Vortex here..." Ratchet mutter under his breath, looking up, still trying to free Prowl from all the wires.

"Thank you for bringing me more subjects. I see there are more of these aliens around" Shockwave's voice echoing from the speaker. Vortex loomed ever closer.

"Don't worry. I will not damage them too much"

Vortex raise his blade, black massive slab of metal with a sharp cutting edge.

"Autobot or not, looks like I have to get pass you first" A smile tucked at the corner of Deadlock's mouth. He didn't expect to fight the big mech, but it definitely seems like fun.

Ratchet backed away as Deadlock pull out his gun and shot a series of bullets at the hand holding the blade, diverting the aim.

Vortex raised the other blade, swinging it at Deadlock. Deadlock was faster, dodging back and shooting at the bigger mech again although not doing much damage with each round. He still had to back out or sidestepped away from the blade swinging down at him, slamming into the ground.

Another mech dashed into the fray, blocking Deadlock's path. It was smaller than Vortex, colored fiery red and gold.

"Hot Rod!?" Deadlock shouted, surprised. But Hot Rod only shoot flame at him.

"Hey! What the hell?!" He yelled while dodging the plume of flame.

There were no response. Hot Rod didn't even seem to recognize them.

"I can't feel his field. Something's wrong!" Deadlock shouted over to Ratchet. "Could someone else be using his mech!?"

"That's unlikely, but possible for Hot Rod. But no one except Felix can pilot Vortex" Ratchet answered, tearing of the last of the wire connected to Prowl.

When Hot Rod's mech aimed the flamethrower towards Ratchet, Deadlock rushed in, slamming his body into the other mech to get him away from the human. Vortex then step in, slashing at Deadlock who narrowly dodged the strike.

"Ratch! They had to be controlled by one person. Their movement are off!" Deadlock yelled as he still dodging and diverting their attacks. Shockwave may have two mechas on him, but he still couldn't catch up with Deadlock. After all, Shockwave was still, one person.

"Correct. I have control of both the pilots and the mechas" His voice sounded from the speaker. Projecting image on the far wall from cameras inside the cockpit, showing both pilots, Hot Rod abd First Aid, with their helmet on, not being able to move.

"The pilots are in there? Shit!" Deadlock spared a glance at the image while backing from their attack. That means if he attack Hot Rod's mechas, there's a big chance he would hurt Hot Rod. Deadlock didn't like that idea. Vortex seems much sturdier, hopefully Ratchet won't be too mad if he didn't hold back.

"If Shockwave still have control of the mechs we won't be able to get the Autobot out!" He yelled, trying to not bring the fight to where Ratchet was.

"Hold them off a little longer, Kid! I have an idea" Ratchet ran toward the console in the corner, avoiding the fighting mechs. He open up the schematics and controls system connecting to the mechas.

"I'm not much of a technician... but this much I can do" The bioengineer muttered, almost holding his breath as he quickly typing on orders to the console.

"The safety protocol, if activated, will release the pilot and stop the mechas movement. And it should be able to override anything else" Ratchet slammed on the enter key, narrowly dodge a stray piece of metal that flew his way.

Both mechas stopped in mid action, steam expelling from their frames. Both their cockpit opened. Hot Rod almost fell out of the cockpit, saved for Deadlock rushing in to break his fall.

"My head...."

"Hot Rod, you alright?" Deadlock gently let him down to the floor. Hot Rod kept one hand on Deadlock's finger to steady himself.

"I couldn't move all of the sudden and...Shockwave. right! Shockwave was controlling me!!" He tried to look around, to look for Shockwave. He was aware of what was happening, but the release happened so fast.

"Ratchet did something to get you out. We're gonna get our of here" Deadlock picked Hot Rod up, turning to see Ratchet rushing back to Prowl. The hatch on is chest was unlocked and open, he helped Jazz up.

"Are you alright?"

"My head hurts...As soon as I connect I couldn't move...." Jazz was holding his head, one eye squeezed shut.

"We got you now"

"Wait, what about Prowl?"

"I'm here. ..You will need to pilot me. I can't seems to move right now. The connection to my body isn't working." Prowl answered, but couldn't seem to move anything other than his mouth to talk.

"Jazz, don't connect to him yet. We don't know what Shockwave might pull again" Ratchet looked over, then up to the window to Shockwave's lab.

---------------

There was no warning. One second he was in the old base with Vortex, in that endless Tuesdays, running around trying to find a way out, a way to wake up.

The next he woke up. Neural link disconnected right away.

"Vortex?" First Aid called, promptly getting off the seat and taking the helmet off just in case the link took him back.

[Get out. I can't move]

Text showed up on screen. At least Vortex was awake.

"Is he still controlling...Whoa... where are we...?" First Aid swayed, still disoriented, he held on to the pilot chair, looking out the vizor that opened up without actual input.

[Near Shockwave's lab. That's the weird mech they brought in]

"What's going on?"

They were in a big, high ceiling room. Maybe an old hangar. There was a black and white mech lying on a big slap, with some wiring around it, looking like they were just torn off. The mech were odd, not of MECHA design. His face like a sculpture with blue glass eyes. Ratchet was beside the mech and right on the cockpit was Jazz.

Hot Rod's mecha was frozen beside them. But Hot Rod was being held in a hand of another mech near by. The mech was similar to the one lying in the center. It has a face almost like human. And the design was definitely not from MECHA.

Above and behind them was Shockwave in his lab over looking at the space below.

[He was using me and the orange one to fight that guy]

"Felix!!" Ratchet shouted from below. First Aid looked down still confused.

"Ratchet!? What's going on?"

"We are--"

Ratchet's voice was cut by Shockwave's voice coming from the speaker.

"Safety protocol... I see you have manage to release the pilots. It matters not. I can also override it. Just the mechas are enough to take care of your alien friend" Shockwave up in the lab was pressing something on his console as he talked. Overriding the safety again to allow the mechas to move by his control.

[Just get out]

Text blinked on the screen beside him. First Aid look at it, run a hand on the edge of the screen and looked up to Shockwave's lab window above.

"I don't know what's going on. But he's gonna control you again, I won't let him. We are getting you out"

First Aid quickly climbed down the escape chute just as Vortex started moving again. It was slow, rather unlike Vortex. He got to the ground and get clear of the mech before a foot stomp on where he was.

"Ratchet! Why are you here? What..?" He ran toward Ratchet first.

"Felix! We are rescuing our friend. It's a long story, let's just say we need to stop Shockwave from controlling the mechas!"

"Friend...?" First Aid tried to make sense of the situation. Looking at both unusual mechs. Especially the one who still cradling Hot Rod in his hand.

"That one. If we can get that guy up, we could make a run for it. At this point, you might as well come along" Ratchet pointed at the mech still lying on the slab, Jazz on his chest, trying to check inside the cockpit.

"No.. I'm not leaving without Vortex" He balled his hands into a fist. Looking up at the window to Shockwave's lab again.

"What?"

But First Aid already took off running. Ratchet wasn't sure where to, that was when his phone rang.

---------------

"They're here already, getting your friend out, Ratchet and the others. But Shockwave is controlling the mechas" Blurr said, phone still in his hand. "If we can get to Shockwave and stop him, they can rescue Prowl and get out"

"Stop Shockwave...." Swerve felt shivers went up his spine- spinal strut. Just the thought of having to face Shockwave made him scared. His fear was probably felt by Blurr as well. Blurr's hand stroke lightly on the control.

"Hey, you are a big mech. Surely we can do something"

Swerve was starting to feel assured. Blurr was piloting him after all. And right now it was just Shockwave in his lab, he was a mech, he can just...just squish him, may be... The thought made him feel sick, so he drop the thought thread and trust Blurr.

A figure in a pilot suit suddenly appeared just as they were about to turn the corner.

"Wahh!" The pilot point an axe at them, looking rather shaken, a trail of dried blood ran from his nose.

"Whoa!! easy there... why do you have an axe?" Swerve blurted out. Blurr pilot him to stop and held the one remaining hand up.

"I got it from the emergency cabinet. Who are you?..I've never seen this mecha model" the pilot still held his axe in front of him. Swerve recognized him after another look.

"First Aid... you're First Aid, right? I'm Swerve...er..you might not remember me. er...." Swerve realized First Aid wouldn't know this form. He was trying to explain when the hatch opened. First Aid's eyes widen. he almost held his breath when the pilot inside removed his helmet.

"Wait...Blurr??..The..Blurr?? Oh my god, your face..."

"Yeah. I'd like to explain too, but we don't have time. We're going to stop Shockwave, if you're going to stop us-"

"Oh! Are you...with Ratchet then?" First Aid was still unsure. But if these people wanted to stop Shockwave, their interests were aligned. And if they are with Ratchet, then he can probably trust them.

"Ratchet..." Blurr repeated. Swerve quickly chimed in.

"Yes! we are! First Aid, please, trust us. We want to get out of here with our friends, too"

"I... I'm also going to stop Shockwave. His lab is this way, right? He's still controlling Vortex"

"Let's go then. We'll explain everything later. I promise" Blurr said, as he put the helmet back on and the cockpit hatch closed.

-----------------

Swerve's mecha body barely fit the entrance to the lab.

"Shockwave!"

"Hm, oh, your are the other alien" Shockwave turned to look at Swerve, barely reacted at all aside from his remark. "How come you look different now?"

"Release the control. Let them go!" Swerve tried to make his voice sounded scary while Blurr moved his remaining arm to rise threateningly.

"What are you going to do if I don't?"

Below, in the hangar, Vortex and Hot Rod's mecha were still moving, attacking Prowl who still couldn't move. Only Deadlock stood between them, deflecting attacks and dragging Prowl out of the way.

"We will...um....."

First Aid walked out from behind them, axe held high in hands.

"We will release them ourselves" He said, voice colder then he would even believe came out of his own mouth.

"Hm...Why don't you just runaway? You could have just run right now, couldn't you?" Shockwave asked, his one yellow lens peered out the window to the fight below. Still controlling Vortex and Hot Rod's mecha.

"I'm taking Vortex with me"

"You want to take that mecha with you?"

"Yes. Let go of Vortex, now"

"And if I don't? If I have to let others go. I rather keep that one. I would also like to keep you" He turned his attentionn slightly to First Aid, cocking his head a little to the side.

First Aid looked at the console

"....the control goes through here isn't it?" He raise the axe. Hands wider on the handle, ready to strike.

"What are you going to do with that? Kill me?"

First Aid swing the axe into the console. Shockwave stared at him. The yellow lens was unreadable, but it might just be in disbelief.

"Regrettable. You were going to be such a good subject" Shockwave was lifting his mechanical arm. Blurr inside Swerve was getting ready to intervene, maybe grab First Aid and blitz out of there.

Black massive blade pierced into the lab, missing Shockwave by only a hair's breath, cutting him off from the rest of the room. They stared at the blade, First Aid moving a little closer to it. The blade retreated, replace by Vortex's massive metal hand in the gaping hole. First Aid widen his eyes a little, before the surprised expression soften into a weak smile.

In the room below, Ratchet and Jazz stared at Vortex in confusion. Jazz then quickly get back inside Prowl's cockpit, while Deadlock transform and Ratchet readily hopped in.

"You are right on time" First Aid climbed on to Vortex's hand to be picked up.

Blurr and Swerve back out of the room at this point, rushing out to go meet with Ratchet down stairs.

When First Aid was back in Vortex's cockpit, the camera was still pointing at Shockwave's lab. Vortex zoomed in on the axe on the console. A text blinked on.

[Why didn't you put that in Shockwave's head?]

"I was thinking about getting you out" First Aid settled into the pilot seat, heaving a sigh.

[Wuss]

"Hey, look, you can move on your own"

[Yeah. Maybe I tried hard enough and finally breakthrough or something]

"That's great, isn't it. Let's go?"

[We're not wrecking the place?]

"Please? Let's go with Ratchet. We can't stay here, Can't let you get captured again" he put a hand on the control stick, stroked it lightly.

[Like I would let them. But fine, only because you asked nicely and it might be fun later]

First Aid giggle, putting the helmet on. Not realizing that Vortex was thinking about the two odd mechs they saw in that room. Especially the one who was defending Ratchet the whole time. What was it, exactly? It doesn't feel like an AI at all.

But that will be for later.

--------------------

Later.

They all sat down, gathered in an old warehouse near Ratchet's workshop. The effect of adrenaline slowly fade and they all reflected on the event that just passed. They had escaped from MECHA base. Using the night to cover them as best they could. It was a miracle in and of itself that they actually got away with slipping Vortex away to hiding with them.

Hot Rod stood beside some machinery near the center, looking around the warehouse and at everyone. His mecha was powered down off to the side. The three Cybertronian in the warehouse could feel a mix of relief and confusion radiating from him.

"okay...Let me get this straight. ...As straight as it can be, I guess." Hot Rod started. He looked over to First Aid, sitting in a small chair, almost underneath Vortex's hunkered down form. One metal hand reaching low, hovering over First Aid's head in a protective, possessive pose. The Cybertronians could also feel a whole lot of malice oozing out from the empty mecha and couldn't help wonder why this one have its own EM field.

"I and First Aid got back from a mission and got taken over by Shockwave. I remember that part, my head's still killing me. Can't move, can't disengage" He continued, massaging his temple.

"Yeah he also locked me in connection with Prowl. I contacted Ratchet for help before that, but when I connected to him, I couldn't do anything" Jazz pitched in from his corner, still checking on Prowl for missing or broken parts.

"I suspect it was probably because Prowl was connected via hard line and Shockwave was breaking into his system. That's why he could also access the pilot. But it didn't do the same to Swerve" Ratchet explained. Although mostly speculation, most guys nodded.

"Then Ratchet get you pilots out of that control, by some protocol thingies. Have to say we could've just make a run for it from there" Deadlock shot them a look from the opposite corner, trying to not pull out a gun and shoot Prowl. Ratchet stood in front of him, facing everyone else.

"I coulda pilot Prowl and get him out, sure. But we had to be sure I wouldn't get controlled again" Jazz shot back, asm crossed his chess.

"Meanwhile I was in the hospital wing when Swerve showed up with his....uh..?" Blurr started, looking from where he sat on Swerve's leg, leaning on his torso, arm crossed over his chest.

"Holo projection" Swerve added for him. He was sitting a bit off to the side. Projecting his own avatar to sitting on his other leg. His real body still leaned away from Vortex as much as he could.

"His holo projection, right. He asked for help. So I get out to find him got taken apart. He scanned my mecha and transform. That's how he got out of all the wires and stuff" Blurr continued.

"Um..I'm sorry but....you lost me at scanned your mecha" First Aid raised a hand, looking confused.

"Our race can turn into other machines after scanning it" Prowl gave an explanation.

"Right. You guys are aliens... aliens that look like robots. Aliens really exist..." First Aid was still dealing with that fact, mumbling to himself. Vortex above turned his camera around, inspecting each alien robot. That spooked the rest of the human in the room.

"Actually First Aid, I have a question" Swerve raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"You went and put an axe in Shockwave's console to release his control on the mechas, right? Which is freacking risky. The control might never be released instead..."

"Yes. And yeah I know that but I don't think we can make Shockwave release it."

"Uh huh... At least things turned out good. Then Vortex broke into the room by stabbing it from the outside so he can pick you up"

"Yes"

"....But you were in the room with us"

".....Yes...."

".....Who controlled Vortex then?"

"Well...about that..."

After First Aid's explanation, Vortex nodded, with rattling metal noise that sounded too much like laughter. Everyone else looked at the biggest mech in the warehouse, expression showing various degrees of disbelief and fear in some case.

"You're telling me, not only the rumors were all true. But Vortex has been piloting himself all this time, which means, GHOST EXIST!!?" Swerve unintentionally raise his voice.

"AND YOU JUST TOLD ME ALIENS EXIST AND ONE OF OUR ENGINEER HAS BEEN AN ALIEN HOLOGRAM ALL THIS TIME!"

"What have I gotten myself into..." Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You also hide a Decepticon in your workshop for god knows how long" Swerve mumbles at Ratchet who shot him down with stares.

"Don't worry, he just made me rescue a high ass ranking Autobot, too" Deadlock said through his teeth, still itching to grab a gun from his subspace.

Ratchet's headache had just gotten a lot worse.

-------------------------

I know they kind of escape easily. but it really is getting long.

[cookiestar360]

Character Sheet

Character- Star

Name- Dummy

Nicknames- Star, Light, Bright, Cookie

Gender-

Species- Angel Dummy

Occupation- Guardian "Angel", Training Dummy

Text Color- Gold or Desaturated Yellow

You can ask them questions :)

-Depiction of Star. Note that I am not very good at art.

Overview

Star is classified as a sentient dummy. After coming across a guardian angel, Star was so excited to see the angel, having heavy admiration for the angel's work that eventually Star was inspired to try and become a guardian angel themselves. Despite not being an angel and having a heavy lack of strength, Star tries their best to defend those who don't have anyone to protect them. Star's devotion towards trying to be a guardian angel derives from the concept that a dummy is supposed to help people... typically by getting injured as a training or testing dummy.

Appearance

True form

Skin tone- #7f7f7f

Height- 5`4 (accurately a Dummy would be 4`6 but I don't wanna use that...)

Weight- 90 Lb

Physical appearance- nothing of note. Just a gray person.

Pretender form

Height- 5`4

Weight- 97 Lb

Physical appearance- A dummy with two pairs of wings on their back, the top pair is golden and sparkles, the bottom one is white. There are two pairs of wings on the head too. Star also has two angelic rings around their head covered in eyes.

Sometimes they'll appear with medium lengthed white hair with a similar color to their head wings.

The wings they have do not work at all. They can be flapped around but Star cannot fly.

The eyes surrounding Star's head DO work, allowing Star to see in every direction alongside seeing ghosts and other things not visible to the average human eye. These eyes cannot close, even while sleeping, but they can move and depict Star's emotions.

Star's two normal eyes are blindfolded, because of this, you will nearly never notice if Star is crying.

Abilities

Shapeshifting

Star is a shapeshifter, they can shapeshift their body to their own will. Star uses this to form the wings, eyes, and halo on themself. Shapeshifting takes energy to do and Star can wear themself out if they overuse it. Instead of using a weapon, Star will shapeshift into a scythe and throw themself at their opponent. This scythe is uncreatively called "Angelsknife"

Necromancy

Star can use magic to revive the dead. This sounds useful, however Star only knows how to use it on themself. Star can bring themself to life and no one else, and they cannot perform this spell while they are dead... If Star uses necromancy right before they die, they can bring themself back to life. This allows Star to effectively avoid death as long as they know they're going to die.

Behavior

Star has barely any care for their life. Star thinks that they are supposed to die in the name of someone else.

Because of their lack of care, this leads to them having no fear or extra respect of beings with far more power than them, including gods.

Star has impostor syndrome, meaning they doubt their own skills and feels like they aren't fit to be a guardian angel. (However, they quite literally are an impostor of a guardian angel, so the feelings are justified.)

Star will become extremely upset if they fail to protect someone, Which can have harsh consequences.

If Star gets overwhelmed, they will begin to lose control of their muscles as they will start to rapidly and randomly shake. This includes Star's heart, so if Star gets too stressed out or upset, their heart will explode.

If scared, (which doesn't happen often) Star will use shapeshifting to distort their face to appear disturbing. This is done in an attempt to appear intimidating.

Star sometimes lacks comprehension of social cues and can often act in ways unwarranted to whatever situation is going on.

Star sometimes wonders if the other training dummies are also sentient and just cannot move, being subject to dying over and over with no one ever knowing they're sentient. This deeply disturbs Star.

The only show Star watches is Family Guy. There is no explanation behind this.

Star's favorite Pokémon is a Substitute Doll (the Pokémon that gets summoned when you use the move substitute that takes damage for the Pokémon using the move.). They refuse to believe anyone who says that isn't an actual Pokémon.

Relations

Family

Star considers every single other dummy like them to be family. Nearly every other dummy isn't sentient however, and just stands still. Parent- Workspace Grandparent- Game (huh, what do you mean those don't count?)

Other

Seth, Burger, Max, Unpleasant, pleasant, Jaws, Lenora, Gabriel, Cinyu, Zephyros, Marth, Grat, Ultra, aevry, Asa, Zandee, Astereal, pancakepieman45, Unus, Randumb and Korissa

Star views Daisy Bell and Alice as siblings/cousins and heavily cares for them.

Star is inspired by Zailyn and Lamentia and views them as role models.

Songs

Yes. They're all just generic royalty free songs. This is because Star is generic.

Also, Their voice sounds like an old text to speech program without the inaccuracies of a machine.

Star's first ever design was made by @abagofstalechiips

Character- Cookie

Name- Cookie K. Star

Gender- Male

Text Color- Green or Purple

You can ask me questions I guess.

Subpar Person

This is just me "Out of Character"

I'm decently different from Star.

Wears a top hat

No I don't like family guy, but I think the characters are funny.

I made the little header page dividers in this sheet myself, thats just how dedicated i am!!1!1!

I don't typically ever do anything like this so my writing is not the best.

I'd say more about me but that's not important, is it?

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 11

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Oemgaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization; selling children to a cult

Author's Note: Ope, forgot to add this- just wanted to drop a reminder that 13 has an ask blog now! @ask13-cod :D she'll ocassionally reblog bits of her story but will mostly be answering any asks <3 currently she's open to name suggestions!

"Johnny can be... a lot."

Simon's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I turn to look at him.

"Is that why you're so worried about making sure I'm ok with having him there today?"

"Yeah, mostly. That and you've only recently met me. Another alpha so soon could be a lot." He pauses, glancing at me. "If he gets to be too much, just let me know."

"I'm capable of setting my own boundaries," I snort, smilng. "But I understand why you're offering. It's your job as my alpha and all that."

Just as I turn to face the road again, I see Simon's forehead crease. Did I say something wrong? It is his job as my alpha to step in where I can't. Why is saying that out loud upsetting?

Eh. He'll bring it up if it's really a problem.

But what if I truly upset him?

The omega in my head paws at her enclosure and I scowl slightly. I am so not in the mood for her today so I push her back further.

What the hell do they feed these guys?!

"Johnny," the Scotsman grins down at me as he greets me. "Nice to meet you, 13."

"It's nice to meet you too," I greet him from slightly behind Simon.

I'm not entirely sure why I'm back here, honeslty. Johnny seems really nice. Even if he seems a bit like he's buzzing with energy - as expected from what Simon said earlier.

"Alright?" Simon asks me as soon as Johnny's attention is drawn to a candy wall in the shop.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?" Simon insists, eyebrows creasing together just enough to notice.

"I don't know? Just... nervous, I guess?" I offer hesitantly.

Maybe it's the knowledge that this is Simon's best friend and I'm supposed to be Simon's omega so there's this... need for approval.

No.

No, absolutely not. I don't need anyone's approval. What the hell was that? Damn omega brain.

"I'm fine. What's our first to-do?"

Simon studies me quietly for a moment before nodding toward the rest of the shop.

"Figured you might want to find yourself some clothes of your own. There's a few shops available for it, and for supplies for your nest. I'm not sure when you'll start your-"

"We can talk about that later and not in public," I cut him off abruptly and glance around the shop to see if anybody noticed what he was on about.

"Understood," he says with a firm nod. "I'm not good with fashion, but if you'd like input I can try."

I shrug at him and wander toward the nearest rack of clothes to slowly flip through them. This shop is full of... bright colors. Nothing is really catching my interest, honestly, but I continue looking just in case.

Toward the back of the store, there's a small circle rack of light grey tshirts. I begin thumbing through the different prints before coming across a tshirt with a white crescent moon printed on it. A smile spreads across my face as I hold it up. It's has a light and soft, cotton-y texture and the sleeves are cuffed.

"This one," I say with a bright smile.

"Pastels not your thing?" Johnny asks from next to Simon.

I shake my head, still smiling as I admire the shirt.

"Not really," I agree and turn toward Simon. "Can I get-"

"Anything that'll make you more comfortable," he says quickly, almost like he wouldn't hear any argument about what I get or, more accurately, don't get. "There's a shop next door with far less pastels. We'll get this one and find you some more options, yeah?"

"Thank you," I tell him, sincerity thick in my voice.

"Ah, don't be like that, lass! He's just doing his best and making sure you're all set up. Right, Simon?" Johnny says just before getting nudged in the ribs and glared at by Simon.

When Simon turns back to me, his expression - what I can see of it - is softer than usual. There's usually a neutrality to all of him with the occassional crinkle in the corner of his eyes from what I assume is a smile. In this moment he seems... genuinely happy. Maybe even content.

That's good.

I think?

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat @peanutismynickname

[nightfurynova1217]

@deathnotetober 2024 #30 - Alone

Gosh, Near is such tragic character when you think about it too much...

Time Taken: 2:10 hours

DeviantArt Comic Tumblr Instagram Twitter AO3 YouTube Discord: @nightfurynova4112

[mbat]

im never going to not utterly adore the trope of eyes reflecting someones emotional state tbh. eye color, eyes glowing, hell, even something as human as pupil size, but especially if it expands past the limits of humanity and goes like how cats eyes go soo big lol. physical form changing inhumanly to reflect ones emotional state going out of their control is just so. mmm thats so delicious

[saja-star]

I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.

When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"

When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...

"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.

"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"

Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."

People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?

[pcktknife]

read the full post please and thanks!

Hi! Please don't vote without sharing‼️

This is Ahmed (@zinaanqar), who I've been talking with for a little while now. Who's been incredibly dedicated in reaching out to you all for help to save his family and promote their campaign. Ahmed is 34 years old and lives in Gaza with his wife Dina, who is 36, and their children: Zeina (8 years old), Eileen (7 years old), Yamen (5 years old), and baby Ronza (only 4 months old). Imagine if it were your own family member, friend, or child who should be enjoying school or playing with friends, but instead spend they're time hiding from bombs and relying on the kindness of strangers to survive. This family has been suffering for more than a year due to the relentless siege and devastation and we are their only chance to find safety and hope for a better future. Please help by sharing their campaign and spreading the word. Right now (10/22/24) their campaign is at €66,413 of their €75,000 goal leaving them with €8,587 left to raise!

vetted by:

@/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi on their vetted Gaza fundraiser list (#264)

@/butterflyeffect.project (instagram) on their spreadsheet (#741)

@/gazavetters on their spreadsheet (#213)

Never forget that Palestinians are not numbers on a list of deaths. Please think of each of them, think of their names and faces and know that you can help them. I think of them everyday. I think of the hopes and dreams they should be able to achieve. I think of their education, their future, and the love they show when they work hard everyday to get help. You may feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you do have the power to save Ahmed and his family. Even the smallest donations go a long way and it's important to remember that.

tags for reach

@90-ghost @heritageposts @neechees @khanger @beserkerjewel @appsa @nerdyqueerr @strangeauthor @neptunerings @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @feluka @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater @anneemay @tamamita @tamarrud @punkitt-is-here @turtletoria @sara-roz @ot3 @valtsv @t-800 @officialspec

[bi-writes]

ghost is such a daddy, isn't he? ;) too bad he's such a dick. (18+)

but it's hard to find a donor. you've been single for practically your whole life, it's the whole reason you're looking to just get pregnant by yourself. you don't need a man--you can walk into a clinic and pick from their little flip book.

but none of them fit what you're looking for. too short, hairline too far back, you don't care for the look in their eyes or the occupation they chose or their descriptions of how much they like model trains and reading george orwell every christmas. they're john does in different colored suits, and they reek of entitlement and the need for perfection and lack the individuality that you crave.

not special, no--you're looking for an edge. and none of them have it.

you're glaring at your lieutenant from three hundred yards away when your eyes soften with realization. ghost is such a bastard to you; he snaps at you easily, uses his obvious stature to overpower you in the most inconvenient of situations, and he always turns his nose up at you for being even slightly less than perfection, just a smidge off your target or just below your personal record.

he demands more of everyone he commands, but you in particular he likes to pick on. you used to think it was because you were the only woman around, but that wasn't it. ghost isn't a misogynist, he's just a right asshole.

but a gorgeous one. not in the way he looks, per say, because his face isn't all that pretty. you've seen his face, glimpses of it, enough to put the puzzle together in your head. he wears mangled skin, torn apart at the seams and scarred to high hell, but ghost is more than just stitched together skin.

he's huge. large and so fucking well in charge. he takes up space, and he does it with intent. spreads his legs when he takes a seat, crosses his arms over his chest when he's standing idly by. his expressions aren't visible under the mask he wears, but it is very obvious when he isn't happy. his glare burns through the fabric, dark eyes narrowed intensely; it is impossible to not understand when ghost is less than amused by you.

he's so capable. you've seen him take apart his gun and put it back together many times. big fingers sliding over metal and fastening it back together with practiced ease. you've seen him haul over two hundred pounds of man over a railing, seen him set up his sniper rifle and shoot a target more than a thousand yards away. he's smart, and he knows what he's doing, and even in the face of uncertainty and chaos, he's oftentimes the voice of reason in the field, and it's sexy.

god, he's so fucking hot. especially when he's rolling up his sleeves, showing off one sleeve of shitty military tattoos and telling the private that's practically in tears what a fucking muppet he is for assembling his standard issue pistol without a fucking magazine loaded into it.

that's what you want.

someone resilient. capable of overcoming tragedy, of finding purpose even when there really isn't anything to live for. the drive of bettering yourself, of not fucking it up, of being able to breathe easy and get out of a corner even when the path ahead is just more of the unknown.

unable to die.

"ever thought of being a father, lieutenant?"

he laughs, bitterly, licking the pad of his thumb before rubbing at a spot on the scope of his rifle.

"fuckin' hate kids," he mutters. "loud. dirty." he grunts. "besides. bloodline dies with me. don't need anymore fuckin' rileys mucking up this place."

you bite your lip. it's not the worst reason you've ever heard. it's just too bad he's exactly the kind of baby daddy you're looking for.

"that's too bad, lieutenant," you purr, standing up. you pass by him, your hips swaying and brushing against his shoulder. it's enough of a touch that his gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes flickering to the curve of your ass as you leave. "you'd make such a good daddy."

the fuck?

it's hard to focus. you keep bending over in front of him; dropping papers, picking things up, leaning over desks just to make his face twitch under the mask. you're constantly in his line of sight, wearing the tightest fucking shirts he's ever seen. cleavage on display, definitely a violation of protocols that no one is enforcing, and it's making his head spin as you lick chocolate off your fingers and swipe it off the curve of your breast. he thinks you must be mad when you make eye contact with him and keep it as you slip two fingers into your mouth and suck.

the worst was when he was stuck in the back of a humvee with you. the back was packed, soldiers pressed together as they rode back to base. he was sweaty and exhausted, leaning his head back as the truck rattled along the dirt road. on a particularly rough bump, you bounced into his lap, ass pressed back against his pelvis. on instinct, one gloved hand caught you by the curve of your waist, and you hummed as you leaned back against him.

"sorry, lieutenant," you had cooed, in that soft, honeyed voice he hated. "am i hurting you?"

"fuck you, sergeant," he had snapped, but his growl was cut short when you arched your back a little, nestling your ass against the fucking hard rock in his pants.

"just happy to see me then?"

acckkk, a fucking fiend, you are. pressing up against him when you slip into line in front of him in the mess hall. asking him for help because your aim is off, just to look at him from over your shoulder and give him that smile. the absolute doe eyes you give him when he berates you for the hundredth time that day, just for you to mumble back, "oh...yes, of course, sir..."

ngghhh...and he's thinking about you. thinking about smoothing a hand down your back as he bends you over a desk. thinking about what it would be like if you climbed over him on his cot and sat your fat ass down onto his face. thinking about the sounds you'd make, the big, wet eyes you'd give him, how good you'd look in his bed and wearing his clothes and cumming on his cock--

"the fuck are y'doin' ta me?" he growls in your ear. you blink up at him, tilting your head back, leaning against his door.

"johnny said you were training, so i thought i'd wait for you. got something real important to talk to you about."

you smile at him innocently, ducking under his arm as you slink into his room. when he shuts the door, you spin around to face him again, giggling.

"there's something i want."

"out with it."

"something i need."

"fuckin' tolk then, yeah?"

"want a baby, lieutenant."

"yeah, right mad about tha', luv."

"want your baby."

he laughs, humorless, "be fuckin' honest."

but you are honest. you're honest when you smile wider, and you're honest when you turn around. you're honest when you bend over onto your forearms against the cot in his room, and you're honest when you shimmey your trousers just low enough, right under your ass, showing off the wet cunt you've had since watching his arms flex as he stacked boxes after breakfast.

he steps forward, leaning over, smoothing two big hands up your plush thighs before spreading your ass, watching your little hole pucker. he smirks, chuckling low.

"'f y'want t'be a riley so bad, don't need to 'ave m'baby, swee'eart," he murmurs, but the echo of his belt undoing clinks in the room anyways. you squirm a little when you hear the zipper of his pants.

"but i want it," you whine, and you slide your arms out in front of you, pressing back against him as you grip the thin sheets on his bed. "i want it!"

"shhhhh," he scolds, gripping his cock with a calloused hand and shoving it between your thighs. you moan as he wets his cock along your folds, grinding slow, getting himself nice and slick. "y'want m'baby, swee'eart? wanna 'ave my cubs? gonna be bears, love. they're gonna split y'open, got such a little cunt."

you cry out, pressing back against him.

"want it! i want it!"

ghost chuckles again, laying over you, his weight pinning you down as he laces his fingers with yours. he's so big, you can feel him heavy and throbbing between your thighs. you need it, even if it doesn't take, even if he just takes you apart right now, you need it.

"you'll make such a good mama though," he mutters, mostly to himself. "fuck...you'll get so bloody nice and fat. nnghh..." he lets go of one of your hands to smack his paw against one side of your ass, gripping it tight and jiggling it. "every part of ya. right for the taking, luvvie. oll f'me."

he reaches down between you, notching the head at your entrance before sinking in easy. you're so wet now, dripping between your thighs, and he grunts as his hips meet your ass quick.

"tits'll get so big..." he smacks his lips together before giving you a heavy thrust. "fuckin' hell...takin' y'out afta this...gonna make you a fuckin' riley today. how's tha' sound, aye?"

you gurgle a little, a line of drool dribbling down your chin. he leans over, pushing his mask up, and he licks your spit off your face, his breath hot as he starts to pick up the pace, fucking into you quick.

"want y'just like this, every day," he growls in your ear. "in m'bed...spread out for me..." he sucks on the edge of your ear, making you cry. "gonna 'ave y'for oll three meals, swee'eart--fuck--until we know it takes."

you smile, your cheek smushed into the bed and rubbing raw against the sheets as he fucks into you from behind. his big hands squeeze your own, holding onto you tight, and you push back against him, your orgasm coming unexpectedly as he babbles in your ear about your tight cunt, your pretty face, the perfect place for him to empty his cock. it makes your vision go white, but you don't feel satiated until he holds his hips against you from behind and curses as he spills inside.

so creamy, slick and soft, but he refuses to waste a single drop. he keeps his pelvis against you, wrapping a forearm around your waist and yanking you up until your back meets his chest. you giggle, dizzy and a little drunk, leaning your head back against him.

"knew you'd fuck me," you mumble, sticking your tongue out, not satisfied until he leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and kissing you wet and sloppy. he laughs, his chest rumbling, and you put your hands over his, scratching along his skin as he licks into your mouth.

"tha' right, luv? why's that?"

you giggle. "because i always get what i want, simon."

next

[spxllcxstxr]

Being in an Established Relationship with Jayce and Viktor • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: I am desperate for more Jayce x Viktor x Reader content! Would I be able to request headcanons for what an established relationship with them would be like?? 🥺 -- @spatialwave

Warnings: gn!reader, first time writing arcane and jayvik so I hope it's all good!!

A.N: Andy (@spatialwave) has inspired me so much so PLEASE go read their beautiful writing! You need to understand I got this request LAST NIGHT, I just had to bang it out I was writing like a FIEND. I loved writing this so much, I hope to write more in the future!! Hope you enjoy!

•

Being in a relationship with Jayce and Viktor is like being a part of an old married couple that simultaneously bickers all the time and is just falling in love all over again every day

Jayce is like a ray of sunshine on a summer afternoon

He's clingy--but not overwhelmingly so. Jayce just has to have some sort of body part on either of you at all times (except in the lab unless he's feeling especially in love that day)

He loves putting his arms around your waist, chest pressed up against your back and lips ghosting over your neck. Jayce is a bit more subtle with Viktor, since your other partner prefers smaller touches, so their fingers are always tangled together. Some days Jayce will even sneak his hand into Vik's back pocket, making the slimmer boy light up red from the neck up

Jayce is also the type of boyfriend that will always have you two on his mind. He picks a flower from someone's garden to give it to you because "the vibrancy of its color reminded me of your eyes," or buys a little knick knack for Viktor because "I thought you would find it hilariously stupid" (Viktor will put it on his already cluttered desk at the lab because Jayce was right, it is stupidly funny)

Jayce will always get an A for effort because even if he can't remember how you like your coffee or tea, it's the thought that counts

Has bigass puppy dog eyes and he fucking knows how to use them against you two

All he has to do is look between you and Vik with those golden eyes are you're both putty in his hands

Speaking of being putty in hands, Jayce is the cuddler of the relationship

Which is good because he is also the space heater of the relationship too

Will basically have Viktor curled up on one side and you on the other. His face will be buried in Viktor's hair, placing sleepy kissed on his scalp. His fingers will rub circles on the small of your back. Jayce is the best pillow and blanket in all of Piltover AND Zaun

Viktor, on the other hand, is like the moon at midnight

He loves the both of you in a slightly different way than Jayce

While Jayce is more touchy and exuberant with his love, Vik is certainly more subtle, though that doesn't mean he loves you two any less

He is actually exceptionally smitten with you and Jayce. It's like his walls come crashing down whenever you two are with him. He could come back from having a disagreement about a project with Heimer, with his jaw clenched and brows furrowed, and then he'll spot you and Jayce in your shared apartment and it all melts away

Viktor isn't carrying the world on his shoulders with his partners around him. He knows that you guys will lift the hefty weight from his shoulders

While Viktor isn't as touchy ad you or Jayce, he shows his presence in other ways.

Viktor will always have at least one eye on you at all times. It's not that he doesn't trust you two (on the contrary, you two are the only people he trusts with his life), he just needs to know his lovers are ok

Jayce could be tinkering with something in the lab and 50% of Viktor's attention will be on him. Making sure he doesn't shock himself or mix the wrong chemicals together. And if that does ever happen, Viktor drops everything to help him. He masks his worry with wit, but the mask is transparent for you and Jayce

Viktor is also the one with the extreme attention to detail. Your coffee or tea is always right and always the right temperature in the morning. A scarf is always hanging on the coat rack near the front door on chilly days for you. Puts a bookmark in the book you're reading when you unexpectedly fall asleep reading on the couch

He is so big on being a gentleman. Will open doors for you two, pull out seats during a nice dinner. Also is the type to lift up your hand so he can kiss your knuckles (he knows this drives you wild and he struggles to hide a smirk at your heated face)

The three of you are witty and biting and funny in your own ways, quips are basically thrown around every hour of the day. The day isn't complete without someone rolling their eyes. Teasing knows no bounds--the apartment, the lab, a fancy dinner, in front of councilmen and women--doesn't matter

Every day you feel lucky to have these two as your partners, you really hit the jackpot with them. They're caring and attentive and loving in ways no one else is

And they feel the exact same way

•

[audisive]

♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.

tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon

Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 

Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.

"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."

(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)

Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!

He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 

Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.

"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.

"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"

Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."

It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.

It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.

"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.

"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.

Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?

Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.

When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.

    divider by @cafekitsune !

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

weirdness

OKAY

Why’s Skully’s idea of the ideal Halloween so jank??? Bro wants:

No candy (he says it’s frivolous and therefore unnecessary; Trey and Riddle argue for candy, RIDDLE defends CANDY)

No decorations (he calls for modesty and simplicity)

No color (just rooms painted entirely black with a single lit pumpkin; Vil and even Malleus, who often wears mostly black, areagainst this idea)

No music, no dancing (only silence; he says music and dancing is inappropriate even after the mermen talk about the importance of music)

To beat back (bad) ghosts (even though this holiday is meant to honor them all and their temporary return to the land of the living; Leona, Sebek, and Jamil are appalled at the suggestion, calling it discourteous)

Very odd how his entire concept of Halloween contradicts his idol’s vision for it?? Especially since Skully claims he and his entire village supposedly worship Jack Skellington as the founder of the holiday. In fact, Skully seems to be experiencing cognitive dissonance when Jack proposes a Halloween with all the things Skully disapproves of, but agrees to help with Jack’s vision anyway. What kind of twisted version of history do they have in his hometown…? Are Jack and Halloween as a whole just super dull there???

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, Skully js disappointed when you disagree with him… There’s also a very strange personality shift between Skully’s upbeat, gentlemanly self and the Skully that makes that deranged expression, speaks ill of dissenters, and gets gloomy when his ideas are rejected. His wording is also very odd???? He says things like he’ll teach everyone what a “proper” Halloween is, which is very reminiscent of how controlling Riddle was back in book 1. Skully also talks about LOT about reflection and atonement. He also mentions it is his duty/reason why he was brought to this world/book… to show everyone what Halloween truly is.

HOW IS SKULLY JUST AS CONSERVATIVE AND VAGUELY RELIGIOUS AS ROLLO???????? 😭 Look, it’s okay to have a different perspective on Halloween and want to celebrate it differently than the modern and more commercialized version of it, but there’s no need to be upset about it when you get outvoted??? (Not the NRC students were the most polite when they told Skully off, but still…) Really not sure how to feel about this.

Starting to think your classmates were right about you being WEIRD, Skully 💀 I didn’t buy the “he’s a cultist” or “he’s old/dead” or “he’s Rollo’s dead brother” theories but now I’m really eyeballin’ him suspiciously… (Not that I believe the theories now, but something is definitely up with him.)

[the-raindeer-king]

Okay, So I'm the only girl on my team at work. And I'm telling y’all, regardless of age or relationship status, guys absolutely get excited when you give them stuff. Even if they act like they don't. All I can do is imagine how this would work with the 141.

Like imagine you make Gaz a bracelet. It's nothing too crazy, just a single strand of green pony beads. It didn't even take a lot to make it. Just some small, homemade thing that you give to him while you've got some down time between tasks.

He absolutely lights up, smiling wide, eyes bright. He thanks you with a side hug and a kiss to your temple. It's more than what you were expecting, but you're not gonna complain.

You don't think much of it, and move on with your business, nearly forgetting about the bracelet… until Soap interrupts you at the gym, demanding to know why Gaz got one and not him.

You didn't think he wanted one, and you certainly didn't think he'd be so distraught over something so silly. So, you promise him a bracelet, and you deliver it to him the next day. A single strand blue bracelet.

Johnny's ecstatic, grinning like a kid on Christmas. He gives you a bear hug, and a messy kiss to your cheek, practically singing your praise as he leaves.

Price is next. But thankfully you don't give him a chance to ask. You had noticed the way his gaze lingers on the bracelets that Gaz and Soap have, the small frown he's got after talking to them.

You make him a yellow one, and drop it off on his desk with some paperwork. No need for all the fanfare or even the chance he might reject it. He doesn't. He does bring you your favorite drink, his way of saying thanks. And the yellow bracelet is on his wrist the whole time.

Ghost is last, only because you didn't think he'd want one. But ever since Price got his, Ghost has been waiting with baited breath for one. He's not going to outright ask, will even scoff if Soap or Gaz brag about it. But he wants one!

It's late, when he drops by your barrack, quiet when you open the door. It takes him a moment to gather the courage. But eventually, he holds his hand out, asking where his bracelet is.

When you admit you hadn't made him one, he's a little hurt. You're teammates. Why wouldn't he want one? But you invite him into your barrack, letting him sit with you as you make the bracelet. It's just black, his color of course, but he leaves, smiling under the mask.

Oh, and when you show up for the next briefing with your own bracelet, a repeating pattern of green, blue, yellow and black, no one comments on it. But it's hard to ignore the way they all smile at you, a soft look in their eyes.

[roturo]

-; ੈ♡˳ MINISKIRT

JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU TEASING THEM WITH A MINISKIRT! ★༉‧₊˚✧

(gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento)

contents: smut, nsfw, sub behavior, PRAISE, miniskirts, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, whimpering, overstimulation, edging, jealousy, sub-space, fluff, possesive behavior, all of them being DOWN for you, and lovesick for you.

A/N: wrote this while watching the office and drunk so npr, and proabably took so long to write because of this.

gojo satoru

He knows what you’re trying. That’s why he doesn’t give in. And it’s much more difficult when that tiny miniskirt is the color of his eyes, matching perfectly with a top as small as your skirt of his hair color.

Bending over the table just so he could see the matching panties while you ‘try to have a closer look to what Nanami is showing you’ – And he doesn’t know what angers him more, the fact you’re doing this to annoy him and probably other people behind you are watching your panties which he’s trying to cover with his body, or the fact Nanami is more likely watching your tits through that tiny top you’re wearing right now. 

He pinches the back of your thigh, making you squeak and sit again as a reaction– looking to your side finding Satoru giving you a glare easily expressing ‘stop what you´re doing’ – and maybe that’s what makes you more eager to tease him now that you’re feeling the wetness coming out of you.

And you know he’s suffering right now. Not only because he’s jealous, but because you’re giving a small piece to someone else of what he supposed it was his.

“Nngh- please baby, i’m sorry- but I couldn’t stand him watching how precious you looked” His cries went to deaf ears as you rode him, edging him for the third? fourth? time. He had some ‘childish’ (that’s what you called it) outburst because he couldn’t stand you teasing him like that, and suddenly after pinching your thigh moved you towards his lap after you sat so you could feel his raging erection and broke Nanami’s chair with the cursed energy he couldn’t control coming out of his body. Something completely new for him.

“Please princess, it was just- You’re so beautiful I can’t let anyone to- I… I just can’t get enough of you.” He ghosted his lips with yours, trying to kiss them but you wouldn’t let him. You were close to another orgasm too, he was yearning for your touch, begging to whatever god stronger than him so you could give him permission to cum.

Who would’ve thought, huh? 

If Mahito, Sukuna or any of those fuckers watched him lose control to a girl they woulc’ve laughed at his face, but if they experienced how good it was to be inside of you, feeling your liquids coat him and his pelvis while they come out of you— even though you don’t let him cum, they would’ve understand. 

But he won’t let them get even 2 meters near you.

You started kissing his neck, marks that will be very prominent in just some hours, his whimpers bringing you to heaven even with how slow you rode him, just one thrust and he swears he could cum– overstimulation taking the best of him, you just pecked his lips one time and did as what he imagined and failed to keep it in.

“Aw baby, you ruined it! Why couldn’t you wait for me? Wanted to cum so badly? It’s okay, but cum again, okay? Be my good boy and make me cum again mhm?”

geto suguru

Are you doing this on purpose? Or you don't really notice? He swears people could see his raging erection from 10 meters afar, quirks of having a big cock, i guess.

And it’s so fucking embarrasing trying to hide it with the shopping bags you gave him to carry, not only he looked in an awkward position while walking, but the friction– and having you infront of him walking with that mini skirt, would make everyone crazy.

He swears he could just cum while walking and watching your hips move and tease him with your body. 

But you just were clueless. Getting excited to find the store you were looking for and do small jumps which had him rolling his eyes to conceal his need for you.

And he was getting needy. Spraying kisses all over your neck when he back-hugged you, he was making it obvious now! Rubbing himself on you, he needed it.

When you finally arrived home, he couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing away the bags somewhere in the kitchen carrying you– having to steady yourself by grabbing what you could from his back and not fall face into the floor while your legs were hanging on his front.

He carried you all the way into your bedroom and dropped you down softly on your bed while he plastered kisses all over your thighs mumbling about how much he missed being between your thighs and how you’ve been playing games with him this entire day.

You were suddenly overcome with excitement. Your clit throbbed and you desperately needed release. Your breath hitched in anticipation. All you could think about was letting Geto finally give you what you’ve been planning this whole day. 

“You’re so perfect. So perfect f´me– and all you been doin’ this day was tease me with that tiny skirt of yours baby- had to control myself to not go crazy over ya’”

At times like this, where Geto is kneeling right in front of you with his face buried in the middle of your legs, you are grateful that you lived alone. Because it means you don’t have to hold back your moans when Geto swipes his tongue on your clit. You don’t have to hold back as he roams his tongue around your entrance.  You know you genuinely lost it when he wrapped his lips around your bud, giving it a hard suckle that made your hips bucked. Out of instinct, your hand went to his hair. Gripping around the strand of it just to push his head closer to your cunt, letting the tip of his nose pressed against it. 

He inhaled, he fucking inhaled to let your scent filled his nose as if his tongue isn’t enough to make you feel stars.  Soon enough, you are on your knees, with your face buried on your pillow, tears pooling around your teardox as Geto has his mouth back to your pussy. His tongue moves in and out your hole to build up your orgasm. 

“What happened to my teasing girl mhm?”

choso kamo

Poor him. How did he end up in this situation? He swears all he did was give a small peek through your skirt because how couldn’t he?!

You were bending in front of him! And you’re even meaner because you know he has a crush for you since….ever. Kinda embarrassing to be honest. Because he acts like a kid having a crush, even worse, like when a little kid had a crush on their old brothers/sister friends… 

But. He won't lie he loves when you punish him like this. Because you praise him for being such dork for you. 

"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose with his black mark and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"

And he’s not thinking very clearly right now– Not when you’re pumping his cock in that tempo that has him seeing stars and crying out loud for you.

“yesyesyesy princess– oh my god- oh my fucking god… i´m sosososoooo lucky to be here with you baby, I love you soo much, i’m so, fuck, nngh!”

He was coming for a fifth? six? time right now. He swears he heard something about you telling him you won’t stop jacking him off until he cums dry. 

Choso looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his hand around yours, "But I want to fuck you now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.

And he’s fucking excited for that. To fucking lose his mind and body to you. To dump all his cum wherever and whenever you wanted.

nanami kento

This little fucking pervert! He acts like this ‘oh so mature guy’ when he’s just as down for you as you are for him. He tried not to fall for you once he saw you for the first time in a mission both of you coincidentally crashed into. Being from another part of the world and suddenly connecting through these annoying curses.

But what annoyed him the most was how ‘inappropriate’ you are while working. Wearing those miniskirts of different colors for work. For work!

How is he supposed to focus? How is he supposed to train? Not when you’re moving your legs with that skirt that barely covers your butt and he easily sees the figure of it and your lips begging to be released to be tasted. By him. 

And you finally have him where you wanted, right between your legs. 

Your moans echo inside your bedroom, and maybe tomorrow you will have your neighbor file a noise complaint to you, but you didn’t mind. To have Kento’s attention only to you worth everything. 

At first, Kento wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too big compared to you.

Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck your needy cunt.

You were just barely holding onto his shoulders, leaving scratch marks that he would not even bother covering up, holding you with ease against the wall. "That's right, bunny, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Kento whined and clung to you, feeling his cock pumping in and out of your small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.

The obvious outline of his length on your lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, your trembling legs wrapping around his hips, keeping his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of his cum.

"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock kento, please~!"

[clockwayswrites]

Bird NOPE, no thank you. Part 12

masterpost

“So, what’s the verdict, doc?” Danny asked. He was trying really hard to keep his tone light and not fidget. Mostly because when he fidgeted the wings moved and then he remembered that he had wings.

He really, really wanted an answer to the wings thing.

“Well, Phantom,” Frostbite said as he continued to look at the data, “your status as a halfa continues to bring about most interesting developments at the most interesting pacing!”

Danny groaned. He didn’t want to be interesting. There had been enough of being interesting in his lifetime already. Couldn’t he just have a calm rest of his life? Couldn’t this all of these ‘interesting developments’ wait until he was properly dead?

Danny took a deep breath so that he didn’t end up snapping at Frostbite. “Okay, right. What sort of developments are we talking about here? Because wings seem pretty unusual to me, even among ghosts.”

“Oh, yes, certainly. Fundamentally such a change, if one is to change, shouldn’t come so early and certainly not before other more common physical developments,” Frostbite said, rubbing at his chin with his icy claws. “At least not based on what we know of human ghosts.”

Danny rubbed at his face. The wings shifted. “Frostbite, I get that this is all very interesting to you, but I need you to explain things, please.”

Frostbite gave a little huff of air. “If you had attended the lectures as I recommended—”

“I can do that when I’m dead.” It was an old discussion between them at this point.

“Phantom,” Frostbite said kindly, “you are already dead.”

“And I am still alive!” Danny snapped, his patience frayed. The wings flaring out The tips brushed the edges of the walls. “I am still alive! I have eternity to learn about being dead but I only have one life. I only have one life, Frostbite, and I’m already spending half of it dead. Just… just let me try and live it as much as I can, please?”

“… of course, Phantom. I am sorry, friend. I forget what it’s like to have things be… fleeting.”

“I know, Frostbite,” Danny said, deflating as his anger extinguished. The wings folded tight against his back, a heavy weight pulling his shoulders down. “I know. Just, break it down for me, okay? I’ll sit in on all the lectures you want when I’m fully dead, I promise. Just for right now, explain to me what you can? I need to know why I have these things on my back.”

Frostbite gave a solemn nod and pulled up a stool to sit down on. “Human ghosts especially are very mutable. This is little surprise, really, with how mutable living humans are. Even though as dead we are largely stagnant, humans still often find their way to change. Personally I suspect that even as ghost, humans need the change to avoid Fading. You’ve seen these features in many of your friends and rivals: colored skin, fiery hair, exaggerated features. These are all things that you halfas seem to lack. My assumption has always been that it is your living half that keeps your features grounded in, while not reality, a more fixed visage.”

“Plasmius’ hair smolders some these days,” Danny pointed out.

“It does. The hair is often one of the first changes and Plasmius is both an older ghost than you, but also a much older human.” Frostbite paused before adding with a wry smile. “He is also much more fiery in nature than you are.”

That made Danny give a soft snort of amusement. “Okay so changes are expected, got it. I guess some go further? Like Skulker?”

“He is certainly an example of that. Spectra another. By all reason these changes can range from wish fulfillment to the effects of one’s insecurities. The longer one has been dead and the larger part those feelings play in someone’s making, the more likely changes are,” Frostbite explained. “Though there has yet to be any clear rhyme or reason to much of it. I personally believe the less fulfilled a ghost is, the more that they will change in an attempt to bring that part of themselves to peace.”

“Skulker needing to kill big game to soothe over feeling little and insignificant made him actually tiny and at the same time into a literal killing machine, right, got it,” Danny said. “And I guess that’s why Plasmius still looks like he’s just brushing forty. He was always vain. But Frostbite, I don’t want wings.”

“No, but you have always been… exceptional, Danny Phantom,” Frostbite said somberly. “Other ghosts master one or two skills, you master any you are exposed to. Other ghosts grow slowly, you grow by leaps and bounds. At first I thought this might be part of being a halfa, but we do not see the same growth in Plasmius and Dani. Plasmius is changing at a relatively normal rate and Dani, while advanced at first due to her creation, has stagnated quickly.”

Danny kept his eyes on his hands. He felt like he was fourteen again, scared and uncertain. “Why am I different?”

“I do not have the why, but I believe that the because is that you are destined, in time, to become an Ancient, or at least something akin to one.”

It was good that Danny didn’t need to breathe right then, as he was very sure he couldn’t if he tried.

“…an Ancient?”

Frostbite nodded. “Or something akin to one.”

Danny bowed over and buried his face in his hands. The wings responded and came up to curl around him as if trying to shield him from the world behind the oil slick feathers.

It made Danny want to rip them off.

“If nothing else, Ghosts are beholden to symbolism,” Frostbite said, his words a grounding rumble. “Ancients more so than the rest. The wings mean something, Phantom, even if you are unsure what. Answers will come.”

“I hate waiting,” Danny said, mostly just to be pedantic. He was allowed. He’d grown new limbs for fuck’s sake.

Frostbite rested a gentle hand on Danny’s back, right between the wings.

---

AN: Danny is having a hard time of it this post! Things will get better though. I am also having a bit of a hard time of it, so I'm sure there are many mistakes, but that's okay.

Stay delightful, darlings!

[beloveds-embrace]

I dunno if I've harassed you yet buuuut,

I just read the newest take on the text and they'll be there guard dogish 141, and just. What if an anxious little bird just walks up to one it the group and just squeezes into the crowd and just.

"ignore me I'm about to lose my shit" or just stands there and gives a small hi cause they're overstimmed or need a break or someone's been creepy and they see that people keep a wide berth from said person or group.

Hi I'm excited I hope anything here made a bit of sense. Also possible reverse 'guard dog' distribution system, the small bird doesn't find a dog. The dog finds a bird.

You aren’t harassing me at all! Please don’t ever feel like that 😭💕 i love, love both scenarios, so I’ll do the second one later as well. Thank you for this wonderful ask!

The dim hum of the pub was comforting- warm light glowing against worn wood, the steady murmur of conversations buzzing around you. It had been your usual spot for a quiet drink after a hard week, but tonight was different, and not in a good way.

Someone had been watching you, and not in the harmless, fleeting way most people did. His gaze lingered too long, his smirk too wide, his attempts to approach you far too persistent even when you refused the drink he’d sent towards you. When you’d brushed him off the third time like that, you could see clearly on his face that he didn’t like that.

Men like him were common, but that just made them all the more dangerous.

The weight of his presence was suffocating, so you’d bolted toward the one corner of the room where you felt the most secure. Them.

You’d seen them here before- an unassuming group at first glance, but the way they carried themselves screamed “don’t mess with us.” Four men with their thighs each bigger than your head at the very least, and tonight, they were your only hope.

Standing up and doing your best to ignore the angry gaze practically boring into you, you approached their table cautiously, feeling several pairs of sharp eyes land on you. Mutton chops tilted his head, pretty boy stood from his seat slightly, brow furrowed. Mohawk’s wide grin faltered, replaced with curiosity, while the last one’s gaze, though obscured by his balaclava, was cold and assessing.

You should probably ask for their names. If they let you sit you with them, that is.

“Uh- so sorry to bother,” you started, voice shaking slightly. “But…there’s this guy…” You didn’t need to finish. Balaclava’s attention shifted subtly, big shoulders tightening as his eyes flicked past you. Mohawk’s grin returned, but this time, even in the dim light, you could tell it was dangerous.

“Where?” Mutton chop asked, his voice steady but just as sharp as his eyes

You subtly nodded toward the man at the bar, who was now visibly trying to act like he wasn’t watching your every move. The second he noticed who you were speaking to, his face drained of color. He turned away, gripping his drink like it might shield him.

Pretty boy snorted. “Well, ain’t that something? Big man suddenly doesn’t have the guts, eh?”

“Stay here.” Balaclava said firmly, standing up with the kind of slow, deliberate movement that made your stomach flip. The other three followed suit, each moving with the kind of quiet unity that could only come from working together for years. Maybe they were a team? You knew there was a military base somewhere nearby, could they be from there?

Still, you obeyed and stayed behind, heart thundering in your chest as they approached the man- not from fear, but from excitement. Ghost leaned in, his imposing frame towering over the guy. Whatever was said was too low for you to hear, but the way your harasser paled, hands shaking as he grabbed his coat and bolted from the pub, told you enough.

When they returned and introduced themselves, Soap clapped you lightly on the back with a bold grin. “Dinnae think he’ll be botherin’ you again, lass.”

Price pulled a chair out for you, right with their table. “Sit. You’re safe here. Anyone who’s got a problem with you’s got a problem with us now.”

You sank into the chair, warmth spreading through your chest. You didn’t know them, not really, but in that moment, you felt like you’d just gained four overprotective, no-nonsense bodyguards. Is this what celebrities felt like? It was amazing.

“Thank you, really,” you repeated, giving them such a grateful, blinding smile. “Again, I’m so sorry for bothering you like that. It was just-“

Gaz shook his head, not letting you finish. “No need to, love. We don’t mind at all. Just enjoy your night now, yeah? No more of pricks like him bothering you.”

And judging by the way Soap was already offering to buy you a drink and Ghost’s subtle but watchful eye, you were honestly more than okay with that.