#echo the goner ghost

[dork-a-doodle]

You don’t understand they’re so silly I love them-

[scraps-n-starters]

Dead Serious Arranged Marriage aus are fun

If I were to do one I'd play with it a little. Give one or both of them a bit of forewarning.

A careful message from Talia, an arrangement set in soul and stone with the opening of the pits. A bit of research, an awareness of the inherent cruelty and callousness of the unliving.

A file flagged with familiar purple as Danny attempts to sort through the mess left by his predecessors. A Crown Prince as his heart still beats, but an Heir Apparent nonetheless.

A cautious meeting between affianced.

(One wary and wise, with word that any Heir Apparent of The Tyrant is not a foe to be trifled with)

(One can tell much by the ghosts the other leaves behind. A Nursemaid with tales of the vicious culture of the League. Test assassins that tell of what one will do to survive. Failed clones, empty echoes, unable to live their own lives but neither left with room for error or mercy. All drowned out by dozens of soft mewls and memories of warm hands and gentle goodbyes. You cannot rescue every animal that comes into your hands. But the echoes of attempts exist. Desert coarse fur and shared water. Danny was a goner before they'd ever even met.)

Likely a warning at 16, a meeting at 17, and a courtship lasting an age and a half

But that's alright

They've got all the time in the world

[koisuko]

Imagine:

A ruthless killer shows mercy. (For my best friend❣️)

Tw: blood, pain, chase, gn reader, use of “you”

Could it get any fucking worse?

This was the 4th time in a row that the entity had chosen you as a victim of the trials. The 4th goddamn time. And for the 4th time, you had shocked yourself in the wires of the generator. A quick jolt shot through the bone of your finger, causing you to flinch and gasp, more in surprise than in pain. You sighed, wiping the sweat from your brow. You weren't a mechanic before all this shit started, yet somehow you knew how to get these things running with little thought or recollection of learning prior. As soon as you knelt down by the still and cold hunk of metal, it was like working on autopilot. Several clicks and huffs before the machine began pumping in succession, whirring to life with one last pull of a lever. The light above ignited, illuminating the once dark and eerie area, signaling one step closer to an escape.

You rose to your feet, dusting the dirt from your ruined jeans. Odd, it was unusually quiet, and the peace was becoming unsettling. It couldn’t have been someone like Ghost Face or Myers, you would have felt the hairs on your neck bristle by this point. Yet if it was someone like the Huntress, you’d hear her hums from miles away. So, why was it so..silent?

You didn’t run, instead creeping with featherlight steps towards the next generator. You could see the top of the light peeking over a wooden wall, but you were too scared to bolt for it. Better to play it safe, incase it really was a stealth killer, and the lack of sleep dulling your ability to sense their eyes on you.

After a few careful steps, you made it to the wall, peeking around to reveal the generator. This was the last one, the last barrier between you, and the gate to freedom. You could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through you at the sight of it. You sighed in relief, taking one step towards it before crying out in pain. Your leg had caught in several strands of bloody barbed wire, your foot sinking and squelching in a bulging red substance. You began to panic, struggling against the hold the barbed wire had on your calf. The more you struggled, the tighter it felt, the sharp tips digging deeper into your skin.

You could hear it now, the loud orchestra of a thundering heartbeat, the sound deafening you from every direction. The only sound breaking through, was the heavy breathing approaching rapidly, and the grinding metallic echo of a massive knife. You winced and wreathed, the wire drawing blood. You watched as it trickled down, joining the bubbling red liquid beneath you.

Run, you screamed into your head. Finally, you managed to free yourself from the coils keeping you in place. Thump, your heart was hammering against your ribcage. Thump, the rhythm matching the stomps of your feet against the dirt, your legs carrying you away from the killer. Thump thump, every time you think you’ve gained distance, he’s quick to close it with each stride. You could see him picking up speed, this chase was nothing to him. You were a goner, with no where to hide and no where to run. And you were right to think so. One second you were running as fast as you could, and the next you were face first in the dirt, your body colliding harshly with the cold ground. You had been too busy looking behind you to notice the trail of torment drawn in your path. You pay the price now, tangled in the stinging barbs of your mistake.

He approached, slowly. You could hear his growls and breaths echoing off the walls of his chamber like head. With each step closer, each inch towards death, your heart deafened you with terror. You had no choice, no way to fight back. So you accepted it, closing your eyes to await the burning sensation of a fatal slash. To your surprise, it never came.

It had become silent once again, even his growls had calmed to an extent. Your eyes fluttered open, being met with his towering figure gazing down on you. He didn’t speak, or make a move, just simply watched. It was unsettling, terrifying even, to see him stand so still. If only you could read minds, was he going to kill you? What did he want? A scream had broken you from your thoughts, sounding from somewhere behind you. On instinct, you craned your neck to look in the direction you heard it, hoping to see a teammate coming to your rescue, only to see nothing in particular. With a heavy huff, you turned back to meet empty space where the executioner once stood. You stared off to where you presumed he had gone, a perplexed look in your eyes at the mercy shown from a killer.

[cycat-carisi]

Take From Me My Lace

Pairing: Hetty x Trevor

Summary: Trevor learns about Hetty's most well-kept secret. (Takes place sometime before "Holes Are Bad".)

Tags/warnings: Spoilers for CBS Ghosts 3x08 "Holes Are Bad", some pg content, (implied) suicide.

Words: 1026

A/N: Heyyo! I'm new around here *waves frantically* I've been watching the show casually for 2 seasons. A rerun of the episode where Pete meets his grandkid SOLD me hard, and then the whole Tretty/H-Money affair started up, and I was a total goner, lol.

After watching "Holes Are Bad" I'm on the side that's convinced that Trevor knew. The look on his face, I think, is more sympathetic as if he's sad on her behalf that she had to reveal her secret, and not even on her own time. And when the other ghosts talk to Trevor afterwards, it feels like he's covering up what he knew.

So yeah, long story short, all of that inspired this little fic thing. I have not read any other fics in this fandom yet, but needed to get this out in the world to help kick off my full-blown obsession 😁🫶🏼

AO3: link (or below the cut!)

The pulse point just beneath her jawline.

He would never admit it out loud, but that was Trevor's favourite place to kiss Hetty. He loved that spot because his tender touch would send her eyes fluttering shut amidst hushed moans.

At first Hetty was apprehensive when Trevor's lips would trail close to the intricate neckline of her dress. Yet, as their relationship progressed, Hetty allowed Trevor to explore more and more of the places she had never let anyone else reach.

Still, most nights she would redirect Trevor's affections when his lips strayed even a little too far down towards the lacy seam. Trevor initially wrote off the abrupt change simply as Hetty's insatiable passion taking over, until one night he finally learned the truth.

"Mmm, Trevor," Hetty sighs, her voice heavy with sleep. Limbs tangled with hers, Trevor continues his ministrations, enjoying the feel of her soft murmurs echoing under his lips. "Ready for round two, are we?" quips the Victorian woman as she rouses from her slumber.

"Just lemme make you feel good instead," Trevor insists as he finds the spot beneath Hetty's ear that makes her keen.

She instantly gives in when his hand trails up the front of her corset, arriving to cradle her face. His thumb rubs delicately along the apple of her cheek while Trevor leans overtop his lover to place a languid kiss to her plush lips.

Hetty arches into the kiss, groaning when Trevor begins to trail his lips down to her pulse point. One of her hands grips his shoulder while the other seeks purchase in his styled hair. "Don't stop," she whispers when Trevor suckles lightly on the tender flesh beneath her jawline. And who is he to say no?

Trevor moves his lips inch by tantalizing inch along her neck, pausing to nip and lave his tongue over her ivory skin. He works further down towards the delicate lacework, and this time, without realization, Hetty tilts her head back to grant her lover greater access.

With her fiery red tresses pressed into the pillow, Trevor takes advantage, soothing her features with his thumb and slowly navigating his fingertips underneath the lace.

He feels it at the same time that she does.

Hetty's bright eyes fly open. She recoils, panic surging through her as she scoots herself up towards the headboard.

Trevor pulls back, startled; concern is written all over his face. "Hetty," he speaks gently. "What was that?"

The Victorian woman's vision turns glassy. She has kept her secret for so long, and now she has slipped up. She could lie. She could run. She could get angry at her pantless, horny lover. But she knows that none of those options would be fair. She is just as responsible for their affair as he is, and she concedes that this moment was ultimately inevitable.

Hetty swallows hard; fear and something akin to defeat are etched deep into her features.

Trevor leans in cautiously, his hand coming to rest reassuringly upon her clothed thigh. He sits patiently, waiting for her to be ready to speak.

"Ohh hoo," she exhales shakily, shifting to sit up further. His dark eyes never leave hers as she does. Except instead of speaking, Hetty simply reaches upwards, and her nimble fingers work to roll down the lacy fabric.

Trevor's brows pinch, and his heart sinks when the bruises and golden cord come into view.

Hetty scrunches her eyes closed, bracing herself for judgement–for Trevor to draw back in disgust. Instead, a soft voice engulfs her. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry."

What Hetty sees when she opens her eyes is a handsome face laden with tenderness. There is no aversion, only warmth. And so, Hetty Woodstone, for the first time in the 120 years since her death, confesses the truth surrounding that fateful day.

Trevor listens attentively as the headstrong woman he is familiar with suddenly becomes so vulnerable, revealing her shame and deepest regrets. And as he takes in her words, Trevor feels privileged that Hetty–his Hetty–trusts him enough to bear her soul to him in this way.

Trevor allows her to speak until she has said all that she needs to. And somehow, Hetty finds her hands in his–an anchor to keep her from drifting away.

"Thank you, Trevor," she concludes, voice low and crestfallen. "Thank you for listening."

"You don't have to thank me, Hetty," Trevor soothes. "I just wish you had told me sooner so I could’ve been here for you."

Hetty gazes deeply into Trevor's eyes. Details leading up to his own death had been a secretive topic for the man who hides his compassion beneath a frat-boy persona. Hetty came to understand that part of him, and now Trevor is privy to a similar part of her. "You are here now, and that is more than I could ask for," she replies with a small smile.

Trevor nods, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

"Just… please don't let on you know." Hetty whispers, her eyes brimming with the desperation of her plea.

Trevor gives her hands a gentle squeeze. "Your secret is safe with me."

The pair's gazes fix as they drink one another in. The moment is raw, unveiling, and somehow deeply intimate.

Hetty's eyes fall to Trevor's lips. She begins to tilt her body toward his when Trevor decides to break the silence. He wants to hold her, wants to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and to kiss away the pain she has locked deep inside herself. Instead, he murmurs, "Does it still hurt?"

Hetty feels Trevor’s breath tickle her lips. She pauses for a moment before answering solemnly. "A dull ache that never truly leaves."

Hetty nods, and Trevor slowly closes the distance between them. His nose grazes against her jawline before warm lips softly meet the bruises encircling her neck. Trevor's movements are gentle; there is no lust, only affection, and something that borders on the line of love.

Trevor draws nearer. "May I?" He asks, eyelashes flickering as he drags his gaze between her collar and the ocean swirls of her irises.

Feedback is loved 🥰

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hello lovely. I saw that you have open request and ran to leave one. I'm going to give you an idea, just to make it more "easy" for you (idk, I explain my self like a shit when it come to ask for request, I'm sorry). Will be for ghost x reader (or y/n), whatever you want.

What if soap, on the way to mexico, start talking about love and asks ghost if he believes in it (which he can give a simple or a cold answer). To which soap says that hopefully ghost will fall in love at first sight so that he will eat his words.

And when they land in mexico (in the part they meet alejandro and blah blah), there is a friend or maybe alejandro's daughter. And ghost just fell hard and now he has to eat his words. And maybe where Alejandro and Soap notice this and start comment Sweet thing just to fuck him up, like: "Oh y/n, you just win a heart" "Love is in the air" And ghost just having a heart attack.

Basically is the trope of "falling in love at first sight" Just something like that with daddy ghost. Can make something complete different that the "idea" that I gave you. Thank you very much if you write it. Have a nice day ♥️

Your brain… literally beautiful ily and I love this idea 😭❤️

Ghost was a man of few words, he never says anything he doesn’t mean, he’s direct, and he won’t shy away from the blunt truth. It’s extremely rare that he has to backtrack, and it takes an anomaly of the utmost importance for him to eat his words. And that anomaly is you.

On the plane to Las Almas, Soap had asked him if he believed in love at first sight and the lieutenant couldn’t help but scoff before turning his attention back to the empty seat across from him.

“I feel sorry for ye, LT, I’m sure there’s someone out there that can stomach ye.” Soap sighed,

“Focus, sergeant.” His voice was stern,

“Jus’ sayin’”

There was a small pause, Soap’s prodding question hanging heavily in the air. Beckoning an answer that would satisfy,

“It’s not for people like me, Johnny.” He admitted quietly, and if it weren’t for the fact that Soap sat right next to him, he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Respectfully, sir, I think you’re more human than you let on.” He shrugged,

And then the plane landed and the doors opened, you stood beside Alejandro, talking to him and laughing before turning your attention to the two men approaching you. And that was it. That was the kiss of death. Your laugh echoed in Ghost’s mind, bouncing off the walls of the heart he dismissed as cold. Your smile was bright enough to challenge the sun, and when you walked ahead of him with your shoulders back and humble confidence in every step, he was a goner. (It didn’t help that he was mesmerized by the swaying of your hips)

Absolutely fucking not. There’s no fucking way.

After exchanging words in the car on the way to Alejandro’s base, suddenly he wanted to hear you talk about everything and anything. He wanted to hear your life story and everything else in between. So naturally when Soap would ask you something, Ghost would hang off of every syllable that came out of those pretty lips.

And you picked up on that (you’re not Alejandro’s top pick for no reason), and you had to admit that maybe it wasn’t so terrible having a ghost haunt your every step. So you indulged him, and in turn you indulged yourself.

You brought him coffee in the mornings and sat in silent contemplation until one of you broke the silence, and more often than not it was Ghost. He’d ask how long you’ve lived in Las Almas and how long you’ve been in Los Vaqueros, and you’d smile that same smile that lit up the airstrip when he first landed. You answered every question and tried getting some out of him in return, he was a little more reserved than you but you could tell that he wanted to give you the whole truth.

Through all this, you managed to convince your colonel that you were just trying to get to know your new teammates. To which he laughed, winked and clapped your shoulder, much to your chagrin. Soap didn’t go any easier on Ghost,

“So how’d recon go?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could manage,

“Uneventful, thanks to an extra set of eyes. Managed to tag an extra set of guards we missed.”

It was rare for Ghost to throw out a compliment so unaware like that. And even rarer for him to catch himself. It took a fraction of a second for his eyes to widen and return to normal as soon as he realized what he said. But Soap saw all of it. He bit his lower lip so hard,

“Sergeant, I’m warning you.”

“Lips are sealed, LT.”

“Fuckin hell, Johnny.”

And then Soap caught you two. It was a tender moment and he almost felt bad stumbling upon it, but he couldn’t deny he was thrilled to witness it.

“You know your blood’s supposed to stay inside of you, right?” You teased as you held Ghost’s bicep, your hands firmly holding gauze against a nasty bullet grazed,

“Wouldn’t have thought.” He chuckled,

“What do they teach you guys over there?” You laughed shaking your head, your bottom lip catching on your teeth as you tried to suppress it and focus on his wound,

“Personally, I make a tea to die for.”

“A critical skill, I’m sure.” You teased, “You’ll have to make me one sometime.” Your fingers gently wrapping the wound with a bandage, your touch was light and firm when it was needed. Ghost didn’t miss the way your hands shook almost imperceptibly, or the way your cheeks reddened as you seemed to process what you just said,

“Just tell me when.”

Soap was biting his fist as he watched all of it unfold, “Not for people like me” my arse. He watched as your eyes flickered from the bandage on his arm, down to your hands, and back up to his eyes,

“Tell me how to reach you and I will.”

Damn, that was smooth.

Alejandro approached you later on with a knowing smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders,

“Parece que te encontraste un fantasma.” Looks like you found yourself a ghost.

“Ay, ya, Alejo, please.” You playfully shoved him away from you with a bashful smile and a blush that would put tomatoes to shame.

Not too far away, Ghost and Soap were prepping their gear, getting ready to track down Hassan,

“If ye don’t say anything, ye’ll regret it.” Soap said as a matter of factly,

“Keep it tactical, sergeant.” Ghost sighed, doing everything he can to focus on sharpening his knives. Don’t bite. He’s baiting you. Don’t fucking say anything.

“Besides, they already know how to get hold of me when they want to.”

“What’d I say, sir? I fuckin’ told ye-”

“That’ll do.”

[elenavr13]

Darkiplier/Damien Playlist (Updated)

172 songs

Evermore- Dan Stevens

Everybody Wants To Tule the World- Lorde

Control- Halsey

Gasoline- Halsey

Dynasty- MIIA

Judas- Lady Gaga

Take Me To Church- Hozier

Castle- Halsey

Sing To Me- MISSIO

Kamikazee- MISSIO

Panic Room- Au/Ra

Isolate- Sub Urban

Elastic Heart (Rock Cover)- Written by Wolves

Crossfire- Stephen

Dead!- My Chemical Romance

Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots

Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift

Smooth Criminal- Michael Jackson

The Voice of Darkiplier- Markiplier

I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys

In His Eyes- Jekyll & Hyde (musical)

Can You Feel My Heart- Bring Me to the Horizon

Feeling Good- Michael Buble

Can You Feel My Heart x Favorite Dress (slowed)- Miro remix

My Demons- Starset

Achilles Come Down- Gang of Youth

Monster- Skillet

What’s the Use of Feeling Blue- Caleb Hyles

Where I Want to Be- Chess in Concert

Can’t Help Falling In Love- Ice Nine Kills

The American Nightmare- Ice Nine Kills

A Grave Mistake- Ice Nine Kills

Left Behind- DAGames

Farewell II Flesh- Ice Nine Kills

Below the Surface- Griffinilla

The Wrecked and the Worried- NateWantsToBattle

You Can’t Take Me Anywhere- NateWantsToBattle

Goner- Twenty One Pilots

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid- The Offspring

Fake You Out- Twenty One Pilots

Miss You- Corpse

Epoch- The Living Tombstone

In the End- Linkin Park

Me, Myself & Hyde- Ice Nine Kills

The World In My Hands- Ice Nine Kills

Popular Monster- Falling In Reverse

Monster- Imagine Dragons

What I Could Have Been- Sting

Hushh- AViVA

Phantom of the Opera

Darkside- NEONI

Broken- DNMO & Sub Urban

Killer In the Mirror- Set It Off

Doubt- Twenty One Pilots

I’m Not Okay- My Chemical Romance

Friends on the Other Side- Princess and the Frog

Poison- WE ARE THE FURY

Apologize- One Republic

My Lullaby (metal cover)- Jonathan Young

I See Red (slowed)- Everybody Loves an Outlaw

Tear In My Heart- Twenty One Pilots

I Hate Everything About You- Three Days Grace

F.L.Y- Ice Nine Kills

Migraine- Twenty One Pilots

Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots

Demons- MISSIO

Snakes- PVRIS & MIYAVI

Villain- KDA

Royalty- Egzod & Maestro Chives ft. Neoni

The Red Means I Love You- Madds Buckley

Loser- Neoni

Not Ready To Die- Avenged Sevenfold

I Want You- Mitski

Poltergeist- Corpse

Life Waster- Corpse

All Of Me (slowed)- John Legend

Young And Beautiful- Lana Del Rey

Dark Paradise (slowed)- Lana Del Rey

How Villains Are Made- Madalen Duke

Love and War- Fluerie

Dark Things- Adona

Wicked Game- Ursine Vulpine

Neptune- Sleeping At Last

Enemy- Tommee Profitt

Far From Home (The Raven)- Sam Tinnesz

City Of The Dead- Eurielle

Throne- Saint Mesa

Paint it, Black- Ciara cover

Man Or A Monster- Sam Tinnesz

Dark On Me- Starset

Hell’s Comin’ With Me- Poor Mans Poison

Wires- The Neighbourhood

Liquid Smooth- Mitski

Little Dark Age- MGMT

Devil In Disguise- Elvis (LLusion)

Toxic- 2WEI

Dark Room- Foreign Figures & EJ Michels

Heathens- Twenty One Pilots

Dance With The Devil- Breaking Benjamin

Black Out Days- Phantogram

Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

Monsters- Ruelle

Whispers In The Dark- Skillet

Salvaged- NateWantsToBattle

Saint Bernard- Lincoln

F*ck You- Silent Child

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead- Thomas Borchert, Brandi Burkhardt

Broken Inside- Broken Iris

Sweet Dreams- Besomorph

EVIL- AViVA

Saints- Echos

Screaming Bloody Murder- Sum 41

Dandelions (slowed)- Ruth B

Master Mirror- Ashley Serena

Everyday A Little Death- The Count of Monte Cristo

FREAK- Jordan Friction

Broken (slowed)- lovelytheband

Michelle- Sir Chloe

Like A Villain- BAD OMENS

If It’s Vengeance You Want- Unlike Pluto

Monster- Fight The Fade

Listen Before I Go- Billie Eilish

Mary On a Cross (slowed)- Ghost

R.I.F.P.- MOTHICA

Nervous- Lola Blanc

Unravel- Johnathan Young

Lost In Paradise- Evanescence

Lies- Evanescence

Haunted- Laura Les

Dread- Unlike Pluto

Monsters- Shinedown

Black Soul- Shinedown

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last

Seeing Red- Saint Chaos

Villain- Bella Poarch

Lithium- Nirvana

Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana

Down With The Sickness- Disturbed

Animal I Have Become- Three Day Grace

Greed- Godsmack

One of Us is the Killer- The Dillinger Escape Plan

All The King’s Horses- Karmina

Gilded Lily- Cults

Haunted & Unwanted- NateWantsToBattle

Symbol of My Regret- NateWantsToBattle

In My Head- NateWantsToBattle

Vendetta- Unsecret & Krigare

Nothing To Me- NateWantsToBattle

Chasing Cars- Sleeping At Last

Villain- MISSIO

Used to the Darkness- Des Rocs

Unforgiven- Ghost Nation

Monster- Starset

Eight- Sleeping At Last

Already Gone- Sleeping At Last

Devilish- The Phantoms

Motherland- Reach

Falling Away From Me- Korn

Just a Man- Jorge Rivera-Herrans & EPIC Ensemble

Something Wicked- Starset

Darkness in Me- Fight The Fade

I Would Die for You- In This Moment

Eye For An Eye- Rina Sawayama

Psycho in my Head- Skillet

Done With Everything- Line So Thin

Monster- Besomorph

Twisted Games- Night Panda, Krigarè

Killer Inside of Me- Willyecho

King For A Day- Pierce The Veil ft. Kellin Quinn

someone i’m not- Layto

[nochocolate]

Theory: Chara's motivations

lucabicono submitted to nochocolate:

I recently found this blog and got drawn back in to reading theories and speculations, and after reading a few, I noticed a common thread that I never had before, connecting a lot of elements regarding the narrative of Undertale, Chara's behavior and motivations, and the significance of the Goner/Gaster characters: the idea of being forgotten. I'm not sure if anyone else has pointed any of this out, but I wanted to submit it for consideration. I also haven't come up with any theories of my own in a long time, and my knowledge of the inner workings and unique scenarios (fun values, kill count changes, etc.) present in Undertale is elementary at best, so I figured you might be better at piecing this together and seeing if it holds water at all.

First off, the obvious connection to the idea of being forgotten, or rather, the concept of memory. The game itself remembers the actions of the player, even in new games and fresh resets, but it doesn't simply stop with the game. Characters like Sans and Flowey obviously either know about previous playthroughs, or at least have some awareness of them. Even Frisk is implied if not outright stated to have some recollection between runs; Toriel's comment that they look like they've "seen a ghost" if the player kills her and then reloads a previous save, and Frisk outright telling Asgore how many times he's killed them.

Another pretty obvious connection is with the Goner characters, specifically Gaster and his followers. Gaster himself was completely erased, past present and future; forgotten by existence. The only people remaining who know about him (aside from, implicitly, Sans) are characters like the Goner Kid, whose entire spiel is about "a world world where everything is exactly the same...except you don't exist", or essentially "a world that has forgotten you". The Goner Kid also asks for the player to forget about them when bringing them an umbrella.

And there are plenty of other allusions to the idea of being forgotten, and having the world move on without you. For example, the Echo Flower that Flowey speaks into says the following: "She'll find another kid, and instantly forget about you." This also ties into the game’s overall theme of letting go.

Having read the theory on here regarding how Chara's influence is tied to number of kills and how the player isn't necessarily corrupting them, as well as the theory surrounding the use of the “*...” dialogue, I began thinking, what exactly is Chara's motivation? Because just having them be a demon or whatever is boring.

Could Chara be motivated at least partially by a fear of being forgotten?

It would explain their hatred of Toriel during a genocide route, who took in fallen child after fallen child even after their passing. It would explain how they're able to one-shot Mettaton NEO despite his monster soul being protected by his robot body; the fountain having possibly been made in to celebrate Chara's arrival having been altered to instead honor Mettaton. I would explain why Chara makes sure to remind the player of the consequences of the genocide route in a soulless pacifist run. It would explain why, even when the player is on a neutral or true pacifist run and they have no soul of their own and basically no influence, Chara is still Determined to let the player know that they're there through things like flavor text ("You laugh and keep laughing", "All you can do is FIGHT", etc).

Given how prevalent the concept of being forgotten by the world is, as well as Chara implicitly wanting to become the angel to "free" the monsters, and how their/the player's in-game theme is quite literally "Megalovania", I think it's entirely possible that they would find the idea of being forgotten terrifying.

[dustedmagazine]

Dusted Mid-Year 2024, Part III (The Lists)

Winged Wheel

Dusted’s writers picked two for the mid-year exchange, but any of them could easily reel off a dozen or more other favorites.  Find out what else they liked in this collection of lists. 

If you haven’t read Part I or Part II yet, check them out. 

Christian Carey

Arooj Aftab —  Night Reign (Verve)

Richard Baker —  The Tyranny of Fun (NMC)

Kyle Bruckman —  Of Rivers (New Focus)

Madi Diaz —  Weird Feeling (Anti)

Julia Holter —  Something in the Room She Moves (Domino)

Hurray for the Riff Raff —  The Past is Still Alive (Nonesuch)

Vijay Iyer, Linda May Han Oh, Tyshawn Sorey —  Compassion (ECM)

Kali Malone —  All Life Long (Ideologic Organ)

Rosali — Bite Down (Merge)

Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion —  Rectangles and Circumstance (Nonesuch)

Ches Smith —  Laugh Ash (Pyroclastic)

Waxahatchee —  Tigers Blood (Anti)

Tim Clarke

DIIV — Frog In Boiling Water (Fantasy)

Loma — How Will I Live Without A Body? (Sub Pop)

Jessica Pratt — Here in the Pitch (City Slang)

Jon Mckiel — Hex (You’ve Changed)

Winged Wheel — Big Hotel (12XU)

Corridor — Mimi (Sub Pop)

English Teacher — This Could Be Texas (Island)

Helado Negro — Phasor (4AD)

Ty Segall — Three Bells (Drag City)

The Smile — Wall of Eyes (XL)

Andrew Forell

Arab Strap — I’m totally fine with it 👍 don’t give a fuck anymore 👍 (Rock Action)

Camera Obscura — Look to the East, Look to the West (Merge)

Daryl Groetsch — Above the Shore (self-released)

Drahla — angeltape (Captured Tracks)

Geotic — The Anchorite (Basement’s Basement)

Iceboy Violet, Nueen — You Said You’d Hold my Hand Through the Fire (Hyperdub)

Kim Gordon — The Collective (Matador)

Mick Harvey — Five Ways to Say Goodbye (Mute)

Sandwell District — Where Next? (Point of Departure)

Umbrellas — Fairweather Friend (Slumberland)

Yosa Peit — Gutbuster (Fire)

Reissues:

Brion Gysin — Junk (WEWANTSOUNDS)

These Immortal Souls — Get Lost (Don’t Lie!) Mute

Bryon Hayes

Rosali – Bite Down (Merge)

Winged Wheel – Big Hotel (12xU)

Gastr Del Sol – We Have Dozens of Titles (Drag City)

Beings – There is a Garden (No Quarter)

Ambarchi Berthling Werliin – Dusted II (Drag City)

Sunburned Hand of the Man – Nimbus (Three Lobed)

Water Damage – In E (12xU)

Dun-Dun Band – Pita Parka Pt. 1: Xam Egdub (Ansible Editions)

Gerycz Powers Rolin – Activator (12xU)

Magic Tuber String Band – Needlefall (Thrill Jockey)

Alex Johnson

Rosali — Bite Down (Merge)

RE Seraphin —  Fool’s Mate (Take A Turn/Safe Suburban Home)

Uranium Club —  Infants Under the Bulb (Static Shock)

The Spatulas —  Beehive Mind (Post Present Medium)

Yohei —  Echo You Know (Perpetual Doom)

Pardoner —  Paranoid in Hell (Convulse)

NYSSA —  Shake Me Where I’m Foolish (Six Shooter)

Nowhere Flower —  Ruts the Place (Radical Documents)

Sheer Mag —  Playing Favorites (Third Man)

Cindy Lee —  Diamond Jubilee (Realistik Studios)

Oren Ambachi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werlin —  Ghosted II (Drag City)

Winged Wheel —  Big Hotel (12XU)

Jennifer Kelly

Rosali—Bite Down (Merge)

Mdou Moctar—Funeral for Justice (Matador)

Mary Timony—Untame the Tiger (Merge)

Myriam Gendron—Mayday (Thrill Jockey)

Lupa Citto—S-T (12XU)

James Elkington & Nathan Salsburg—All Gist (Paradise of Bachelors)

Rail Band—S-T (Mississippi)

Winged Wheel—Big Hotel (12XU)

Six Organs of Admittance—Time is Glass (Drag City)

Split System—Vol. 2 (Goner)

Ian Mathers

The Body & Dis Fig — Orchards of a Futile Heaven (Thrill Jockey)

Broadcast — Spell Blanket: Collected Demos 2006-2009 (Warp)

Cassandra Jenkins — My Light, My Destroyer (Dead Oceans)

Chelsea Wolfe — She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She (Loma Vista)

Jessica Moss — For UNRWA (Self released)

Laura Masotto — The Spirit of Things (7K!)

loscil // lawrence english — Chroma (Self released)

Myriam Gendron — Mayday (Feeding Tube/Thrill Jockey)

Polar Inertia — Environment Control (Northern Electronics)

Whitelands — Night-bound Eyes Are Blind to the Day (Sonic Cathedral)

Jim Marks

Ben Allison, Steve Cardenas, and Ted Nash — Tell the Birds I Said Hello: The Music of Herbie Nichols (Sonic Camera)

Mary Halvorson — Cloudward (Nonesuch)

Demian Cabaud — Arbol Adentro (Porta Jazz)

Fabiano do Nascimento and Sam Gendel — The Room (Real World)

Francesco Sensi — In Abstracto (WoW)

James Brandon Lewis Quartet — Transfiguration (Intakt)

James Elkington and Nathan Salsburg — All Gist (Paradise of Bachelors)

Juan Pablo Alcazar — Otro Quatuor Pour La Fin Du Temps (Porta Jazz)

Michele di Toro, Yuri Goloubev, and Hans Mathisen — Trinomics (Calogola)

Tony Moreno Trio — Ballads Volume 1 (Sunnyside)

Patrick Masterson

Cindy Lee — Diamond Jubilee (Realistik)

Chief Keef — Almighty So 2 (43B)

Marika Hackman — Big Sigh (Chrysalis)

Water Damage — In E (12XU)

Oneida — Expensive Air (Joyful Noise)

Winged Wheel — Big Hotel (12XU)

Burial — “Dreamfear / Boy Sent From Above" (XL)

Gouge Away — Deep Sage (Deathwish Inc.)

Blues Ambush — Blues Ambush (Radical Documents)

Tei Shi — Valerie (self-released)

Armand Hammer — BLK LBL (self-released)

Donato Dozzy — Magda (Spazio Disponibile)

Bill Meyer

 أحمد  [Ahmed] —Wood Blues (Astral Spirits)

 أحمد  [Ahmed]—Giant Beauty (Fönstret)

Bill Orcutt Guitar Quartet—Four Guitars Live (Palilalia) 

Itasca—Imitation of War (Paradise of Bachelors) 

Lisa Ullen, Heirloom (Fönstret)

Lumpeks—Polonez (Umlaut) 

Matthew Shipp Trio, New Directions in Jazz Piano Trio (ESP-Disk’)

Olivia Block—The Mountains Pass (Black Truffle)

Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werliin—Ghosted II (Drag City)

Rafael Toral—Spectral Evolution (Moikai) 

The Handover—The Handover (Sublime Frequencies) 

Tomeka Reid Quartet—3x3 (Cuneiform) 

Jonathan Shaw

Bad Breeding—Contempt (Iron Lung)

Fuera de Sektor—Juegos Prohibidos (La Vida Es un Mus)

Cindy Lee—Diamond Jubilee (Realistik Studios)

SUMAC—The Healer (Thrill Jockey)

Thou—Umbilical (Sacred Bones)

VR Sex—“Hard Copy” (Dais)

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Oh, baby, this is it!!!

The last chapter of Act One. I hope you guys are ready for the hell I’m gonna bestow on you all lmaooo

I just wanted to say, while I have a bunch of shit written for Act Two and a boat load of ideas, I am up for suggestions. If there's something you'd like to see in the fic, don't be a stranger. I can't guarantee I’ll do it, if it doesn't mesh with the ideas I have, but as a free writer, my work is always evolving and taking on a life of its own. So hit me up if there's some specific shit you wanna see.

Also this chapter is a little rough so… re-read the tags and take care of your mental health.

Placebo - A Million Little Pieces

There wasn't much I used to need

A smile would blow a summer breeze through my heart

Now my mistakes are haunting me

Like winter came and put a freeze on my heart

I've lost the power to understand

What it takes to be a man with my heart

I saw you wanted this to end

You tried your best to be a friend to my heart

But I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Whenever I was feeling wrong

I used to go and write a song from my heart

But now I feel I've lost my spark

No more glowing in the dark for my heart

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand? (Can't you see I'm sick of fighting?)

Understand? (Can't you tell I've lost my way?)

Understand? (Look at me there's no denying)

Understand? (I won't last another day)

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Then I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces now

A burst pipe was dripping, the nose echoing in the desolate concrete room. Sounded like a bullet ricocheting off the walls. Simon fucking wished it was, wished it ricocheted right into his brain. How long had he been here? It all bled together, felt like forever at this point. His body was well and truly broken, had so much done to him that he’d been sure he was a goner multiple times, yet somehow he was still clinging on. His mind though, that he was trying to clutch with all of his might, bloodied fingers and all. 

He wasn't sure just where it all went wrong, to be betrayed by his superior like he had, to wind up in the hands of a monster. Roba wanted him to join their side, thought he’d make a great soldier for him. Wanted him a mindless drone to follow his brutal orders. An unstoppable machine. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t ever fucking do it but boy was Roba determined to try and break him. 

It had been your run of the mill torture at first but Simon was prepared for that, fucking passed his RTI training with flying colours for a reason. But when that didn't work it got meaner, more brutal, until Simon’s body was littered with scars, so many he was sure he looked like mincemeat. The one that sliced through his top lip into his cheek had been the most painful. It was still trying to heal. 

When Roba realised he wasn't getting anywhere to break his new favourite toy, he resorted to tactics that Simon hadn’t been prepared for, ones that had damaged his psyche beyond repair. He’d been confused when the first prostitute had been brought to him and he’d been horrified at what they wanted him to do. He was married and he wasn’t about to fuck a hooker. Roba hadn't liked that though and as the poor girl hit the floor with a thud, bullet hole in her head, Simon had felt bile clawing its way up his throat. He might not have pulled the trigger but he damn well killed her, and that was the fucking point wasn’t it? The mind games. 

Roba knew he'd play along more if innocent lives were threatened and so that's what he did. He kept bringing him women that if he was honest, might not have even been willing participants and they forced him to be touched against his will. And if he didn’t get hard, didn’t fucking finish as they watched like the sick perverts they were, the girls wound up beaten or dead. He wasn't sure he’d ever be right in the head again if he ever got out of here, especially not when it got even worse when even that hadn’t broken him completely. 

Then it turned into the men taking turns with him, being used in a way he’d never even considered. He felt dirty, like he’d never wash clean, like he was tarnished from the inside out and all he could think about was her. Could she still love him after he’d been with other people? No, that wasn't right was it? Hadn’t been voluntary, hadn’t been willing. He knew exactly what it was he went through, the R word that burned in the back of his mind like vitriol. He’d been defiled. 

Would she think of him differently or would she open her arms out to him, wrap them around him in a tender embrace and tell him it would all be okay? Simon’s eyes closed, tears leaking down the sides as he lay on the hard concrete floor, the cold biting into his broken and naked body. He could just about hear her, the delicate voice floating through the peripheries of his shattered mind.

I’ve got you, Si. I love you.

A deep and aching sob wracked his bruised chest, his heart yearning so fiercely for her that it caused him more physical pain than the beatings. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in check, the only thing he was clinging onto so desperately. He needed to get back to her, needed to be in her arms, needed to feel like he was still a man, still worthy of love. 

He felt so disconnected from everything, disjointed and wrong. Nothing felt like it made sense anymore other than her. He’d never allow them to break him because he couldn't leave her all alone. He’d promised her that years ago, made it solid with his vows to her. He wouldn't die here, wouldn't leave her grieving and alone. He’d get back to her no matter what it took. 

His whole body tensed up as he heard the door down the hall rattle, the key in the lock turning. A cold, creeping fear trickled through his veins like ice and his chest felt like it caved in. He knew what was coming for him, knew what time it was. And so, he allowed himself to float away somewhere else. Somewhere it was warm, somewhere with blue soft eyes gazing at him, a bright smile just for him, small hands smoothing through his hair and telling him it was all okay. He'd be okay as long as he was with her. 

He’d been through a lot of horrible things in his life but nothing could top the last three months. Nothing could top being hung by his ribs with a meat hook or being buried alive with his dead, treacherous CO. But even then, he hadn't given up. Even bloody and gasping and retching and fractured. He’d dug his way out of that grave with the jaw bone of his bastard of a Major, got himself right out. Finally. He could go back to her. She was all he ached for, all he wanted. 

Getting out of Mexico had been a blur, wound up being picked up by a Captain called John Price that he’d briefly worked with before. He wasn’t sure how he fucking found him, wasn’t sure of anything anymore and then weeks were spent in hospital as he recovered. His brain was fuzzy, his mind trying to erase the horrors he’d endured, trying to stuff them into a box so deep in his mind he’d never be able to find them. Didn't work though, did it? His body recovered, leaving awful scars that covered every part of him. His face made him sick, a scar along his cheek and lip and one that curved around his left temple. Would she flinch when she looked at him? Would she feel as sick as he did? Would she still look at him the same? His body might have healed but his mind sure hadn't. He had this hope, that once he was home, once he was back with her that it would all be okay. She’d make it okay. 

“You thought any more about what I said?” John asked him, watching as Simon slid a hoodie on. The man had been kind enough, slowly earning his trust after not leaving his side. 

“We both know I wouldn't pass a psych eval… not anymore,” he bit out. He tried not to think of the nightmares or the crippling panic attacks he kept getting out of nowhere. Tried not to think about the dreams where he was hurting people, hurting innocent women and enjoying it. Tried to tell himself that Roba hadn't won, he hadn't. 

“Doesn't really matter about that, does it? You've got potential, Simon. A bit of therapy and I think you’d be good to go. I’d love to have you on my team,” the man murmured, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt honoured that after all he went through, this man, a seemingly good man, had decided he was worth something. Decided that he wanted him on board. He felt like a fragile piece of porcelain, cracked and waiting to fall to pieces. He was nothing like the brave soldier he’d thought he was. 

“I appreciate it but… I’m done. I want out. Just wanna get home, back to my wife. Wanna… settle down, get better, have kids. I don't want this life anymore,” he admitted hoarsely. 

His hand moved to his tags, the pendant she got him still there. A tether to her. He couldn't do this life anymore, not after all he’d been through. He just wanted a normal life, wanted to just be with Charlotte. John nodded, moving at a snail's pace to tap him on the shoulder. He still flinched anyway but he was getting better. He hoped to god he wouldn't flinch at Lottie’s touch, he knew it would break her. Her soft heart would already hurt for him when she found out what he’d endured. 

“Alright, well… Here's my number anyway. Call me if you change your mind or… if you just need a chat,” he smiled and Simon nodded, grateful for the man who just appeared in his life when he needed him. He’d never forget his help. 

“Thanks, John,” he murmured. 

He got the special treatment of a private military plane back to Manchester and he looked around at the pitiful smattering of snow and the twinkling lights people had up. It was Christmas day. Even after everything he’d been through, he was excited to see her, his stomach twisting in knots at the prospect. She’d be so surprised to see him and he just needed to feel her, needed to take in her comforting scent and to hear her beating heart. 

A thought occurred to him then and he decided to go to his mum’s first and he knew Tommy, Beth and Jo would be there after spending Christmas day there. Not really to see them as he knew his current scarred state would cause quite a stir but because Lottie’s present was there so she wouldn't see it. His mum had helped him with it. He’d been so excited about giving it to her. While he knew it was wrong, he decided he wouldn't tell his family what happened to him, they didn't need to know those horrors. He’d come up with some bullshit about a bomb or something to cover for his scars. He would tell Lottie though, she deserved to know the truth and why he’d come back different. 

He was glad the houses weren’t too far apart, his steps picking up as he saw his mum’s house. The lights outside blinked rapidly and he smiled at the stupid inflated snowman in the front garden. It wasn't lost on him how close to death he’d been not too long ago and all these little things he’s taken for granted meant so much more to him now. He moved through the front gate, approaching the door and frowning when he saw it was open a crack. 

“Mum! You’ve left the door open!” he called out, pushing it open as he stepped inside. For a house full of people on Christmas day, it was eerily silent and Simon felt a chill sweep up his spine, his military alertness taking over. 

“Mum! Tommy!” he called out warily, moving inside the house fully. 

As he walked into the living room, the world stopped turning and he couldn't breathe. Mum. She was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree and his first thought had been that she’d had a fall or a heart attack or stroke. But as he rushed to her, turning her over to her back, blood pounded in his ears at the bullet hole in her head. No, no, no. 

He jumped up, hands clutching the sides of his head as he shut his eyes, frantically shaking his head. He’d had dreams like this before. It was a dream, it had to be. Yet when he opened his eyes again, the lifeless body of his mum stared back at him. He looked to his left seeing Beth slumped on the couch, bullet wound to the head. He couldn't hear the wounded noises he was making with the pulse blaring in his ears but his cheeks were wet and he clawed at his chest as he tried to breathe. Joseph was in the armchair, body half falling off with blood dripping from his small head.

“No…” he wailed, swaying on his feet as he stumbled over. His hands shook, hovering over the boy before he carefully lifted him so he didn't fall, leaning him against the chair. Tears fell in rivulets, loud and gut wrenching sobs tearing at his throat as he cradled the boy's bloody head. 

Tommy, where's Tommy? His lower lip quivered as he released Joseph, looking around with blurry eyes as he tried to make sense of what happened. He needed to find Tommy. Tommy had to be okay. He moved around the room before going into the kitchen and something broke in him completely at the sight of his baby brother laying on the floor in a pool of blood. An agonised noise left his lips as he fell to his knees on the floor, arms going around his brother uncaring of the blood. He was cold, so cold and he sobbed, clutching Tommy as if it would breathe life back into him. Bad dream, had to be a bad dream, need to wake up, wake up. 

“Was hoping you’d show up.”

The voice made him whip around, eyes widening to see Washington, one his squad mates who had also been taken. He’d thought he’d died. The man looked at him with cold eyes, devoid of the life he’d known them to be and it all clicked in his head. He’d been turned, been sent here to dole out Simon’s punishment for getting away, for not bending to Roba’s will. They’d died because of him. 

He set his brother's body down, standing up to his full height. He towered over Washington but the man was unflinching, gun dangling in his hand. Big mistake. So much pain and rage swept through him that he could hardly contain it. He lunged at him and the fucker wasn’t prepared for it. The gun clattered to the ground but Simon didn't care about that, didn’t need a fucking weapon because he was one. 

He knocked him onto the floor and Washington tried to scramble away, shocked when Simon’s fist collided with his temple and stunned him. But he didn't stop there, couldn't stop there. His fist hit and hit and hit and hit until the man's head was nothing but a pile of broken bones and mush. Until there was brain matter dangling out of his useless split open skull. Until there was no noise coming from the man other than the sick squelching of his head. His rage knew no bounds, ragged breaths ripping in and out of his lungs violently. He couldn't make sense of how he got here, couldn't make sense of anything. Charlotte. Oh god no. 

He took off with his heart in his throat, tearing out of the house and running down the street at inhuman speed. The fear he felt was like nothing else he’d ever experienced as he kept running until he felt sick. He pushed himself until their house came into view, Christmas lights up in the window. He came to a screeching halt at the living room window, seeing Lottie folding up washing and putting it on the couch to sort out. 

The relief he felt made him crumple to his knees, vomit projecting out of him at a painful speed and onto the driveway. She was alive, she was okay. She wouldn't be though. Roba would come for her, he’d get her because she was all Simon had left and his heart ran cold at the notion. His family were dead. Gone completely. He’d never see his mum's warm smile, see Beth’s kind eyes or hear sweet Joseph's laugh again. And Tommy… he’d never hear his stupid jokes again, never roll his eyes at him, never give him big brotherly advice, never hear him poke fun at him for anything and everything. His baby brother who he’d fought so hard to protect his entire life and he’d failed him. He was dead because of him, he’d killed him. 

He wished he’d died back in Mexico so he didn't have to endure the searing pain ripping through his soul. And if he lost Lottie… no, he couldn’t, he fucking refused. He quickly left before she saw him, a plan forming in his mind. He needed to kill Roba, she’d never be safe if he didn’t. Would she be safe even if he did? This proved his line of work was dangerous and he’d made many enemies over the years. He'd never really thought it would bleed into his personal life and now look what happened. 

He couldn't do that to her. Having her alive was better than having her with him temporarily just to die because of him. The idea of leaving her like that was painful, he knew just what he was doing by breaking his promise of leaving her alone, but he had no choice. He couldn't have her die because of him. He had to make this right somehow, how to get justice and revenge for his family, had to keep his wife safe even if he had to hurt her in order to do that. He made his way back to his mum's house, a sick feeling festering in his stomach like an infected wound. 

There was this eerie emptiness that suddenly wrapped around him like a blanket and he welcomed it. Something shifted within himself and he felt it deep in his core. Simon Riley didn't exist anymore, there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man. A ghost, doomed to haunt the earth as his penance. And so, he did the only thing that made sense, setting fire to the house in some kind of funeral pyre for his family, leaving his tags on that murdering cunts neck so he could finally kill himself once and for all. 

The one thing he grabbed before he left was the gift he’d made for Charlotte. He didn't have much left of her now, this was it. He’d left his tags behind as much as it wounded him, but he could keep this. Remind himself he was doing this for her. 

When he was far enough away from the house, he made the trek into the city centre, head down and avoiding everyone. He finally got to his destination, chest heavy with grief as he eyed the bus stop in front of him. He could almost envision himself sitting there as if he was a spectator, watch Lottie stroll up in that little dress, watch her pluck his cold heart right out of his chest and warm it up. 

He blinked rapidly, tears falling down his miserable and marred face, moving over to sit down, clutching the gift tightly. He wished so badly he could say goodbye to her, to feel her embrace, to feel her soft kiss just one more time, but in a way he knew he’d never be able to leave her if he saw her tearful face. He rummaged in his pockets, reaching out the two gifts off John. A pocket knife and a burner phone. He flicked the knife out, scratching into the metal seat at his side carefully. 

S.R 

<3

C.R

Maybe she’d see that one day, maybe she’d see it and know it was him, maybe it would comfort her. His lower lip wobbled horribly and he wiped at his eyes, pressing call on the only contact in his phone. 

“Hello?” he answered after two rings. 

“Price… I need help,” he choked out, unable to stay strong under the unbreakable weight of his pain. 

He willed that coldness to come back to him, that emptiness was much easier to handle than all of this emotion. He needed to bury himself, needed to become nothing but a ghost so he could carry out his revenge and keep Charlotte safe. He didn't deserve to have a happy life with her like he’d longed for, was stupid for ever thinking it was possible really, wasn't he? He was nothing but bad luck, cursing everyone he loved to a painful death. He’d never be able to make up for what he’d caused but he’d spend the rest of his miserable life making sure Charlotte wouldn't suffer the same fate. 

[dork-a-doodle]

Cringe is dead and I’m redesigning my old UT/DR OC/Self-Insert: Echo (she/they)

Info dump about them below the cut!

So I originally made them in the wake of Deltarune’s release, when the whole “we, the players, are possessing Kris 😱” thing was very fresh and the whole Undertale Multiverse was still going strong. So naturally they started out as basically a self insert, the version of me that played Undertale and later Deltarune.

So a quick rundown of their lore (btw I make no apologies for the Mary Sue aspects of this):

They originally controlled Frisk, doing several different Runs, endlessly curious about the world

At the end of their most recent True Pacifist they find their way back in the True Lab and into a part of it they hadn’t seen before

While exploring they accidentally activated a machine from before Alphys’s time and get Gastered

…kind of

Instead of being fully “shattered across space and time” they’re just… slightly fractured across space and time

Tbh I like to think of it like they got hurled full force at the 4th wall and got stuck in it like jello

Not really breaking the 4th wall so much as jiggling it aggressively and gaining an new kind of perspective

This had some interesting consequences, including (but not limited to):

separating from Frisk (who runs out of the Lab in fear) and gaining a physical form of their own

the ability to slip into different universes at a whim

the inability to talk normally, now effectively “speaking” in text box noises (lmao get Animal Crossing-ed idiot) and thus can’t be understood by most people (with a few exceptions)

the ability to posses objects and other people (which they do feel the need to sometimes as their true form is off putting to most, though they try not to possess people if they can help it)

others probably? haven’t quite figured that out yet

Which these newfound abilities, they decide to explore the multiverse and see all the interesting things it has to offer

But first, they decide they want a traveling companion, so they don’t get lonely

And they know the perfect candidate, someone who understands what it’s like to have unfathomable power and the want to explore all possibilities with that power for your own entertainment and curiosity’s sake

Someone who really doesn’t have anything left to seek in this world

And damn it if Flowey isn’t very interested in that offer

This arrangement is a strangely balanced symbiosis

For Flowey:

traveling the multiverse gives him a kind of clean slate he could never achieve on his own, especially with the loss of his reset powers

the multiverse is also very interesting and fun to explore

they know what he’s been through and what kind of a person that’s made him better than anyone else. they understand it, and they know to judge him for it would be hypocritical

For Echo:

so long as Flowey is attached to them in some capacity he can understand their strange “speech” and frequently acts as a translator (they are also learning sign language to ease that burden)

he’s far more experienced in battle and frequently acts as protection in more aggressive universes

re: the point about mutual understanding

Flowey is also unable to absorb their soul, which means his power over them is limited and if he crosses a line they’re fully able to ditch is ass in any universe they want

It’s notable that while Echo’s curiosity can occasionally override their morality, they’re still more inclined to chose the kinder option

I consider them to be chaotic neutral, leaning towards chaotic good

(I also personally see Flowey as somewhere between true neutral and chaotic neutral, occasionally slipping into chaotic evil. What can I say, he’s a nuanced guy)

Anyway, they travel the multiverse together, experiencing new things, seeing interesting sights, causing chaos

Eventually they find themselves in the Deltarune side of the multiverse

The universe they end up in is one where the entity possessing Kris is an incredibly malevolent one

Or I should say, the entity that was supposed to be possessing Kris

As Echo senses the Bad Vibes approaching this random human child, they say “absolutely the fuck not” and possess Kris themself to block the entity

This does mean they have to drop Flowey to do this, so he’s just kinda in the background for the time being

From there it’s basically just Chapter 1 until the point when Kris rips out the soul and goes to eat some pie

While they’re distracted, Flowey climbs in and breaks open the cage so Echo can unpossess the soul and leave now that the malicious entity is gone

They do decide to stick around and check out these Dark Worlds

Luckily for them, while they were busy dealing with the classroom Dark World, Flowey took the time to explore the town and found this perfectly good empty vessel that someone seems to have discarded

Deciding not to question it, they possess the vessel and wait for a new Dark World to open so they can explore it together

And that’s the basics of their story (or as much of it as I have ironed out lol). Hopefully this hyperfixation stays with me cuz I’d love to explore their character a lot more 😁

[piacemia]

for you, forever ago

and there he is but in my doubled vision he is a mirror image, 21 with broad shoulders and a laugh that rang through the astroturfed office. a goner. and at the same time he is shining and golden and from afar, ages away from what i knew. ringing clear as a bell through my center i think, there he is. and i am in love

he shines so bright, in and toward, and hands reaching toward, i find glass. rippled, back into place and there we are. he and i, apart. and i am not the bouncing lamb of late, i am not cut from the same orange cloth. i see him walk me home, talk of lipstick on my teeth, and in a clumsy kiss goodnight, i am not there. you are not there an ache and a yearning towards someone alive and moving forward, but for the person they have long left behind. for the life golden and divine in the memory, because what does memory do if not gild and embellish. bejewel.

a splinter, a midas touch, a purpled bruise tender to the touch. there you are. echoes, ghosts, ripples. all away from a center, all changed from their original form.

but damn, if it doesn't ache like the first time some days

[carlyraejepsans]

AAAAAAA THE GONER KID ECHOES IN THAT POST..... YOU'RE A GENIUS I LEGITIMATELY GOT GOOSEBUMPS

hehehe thank you. also, speaking of goner kid and sans... here's another thing an older anon mentioned

did you know that you don't need to fight sans to do a successful genocide run? you just gonna get past him. it's killing mtt (and thus, the final monster in the CORE) that locks you into the route. so if you hypothetically spared him or got around him, you'd still kill asgore. then flowey. then presumably reach LV.20 that way instead. so really, he DOES fight at the absolute last possible moment. normally, I'd chalk it up to "the sans fight is unskippable and only happens once so if they get past him they MUST have won." for code saving reasons but... sans isn't counted as a kill in your stats either.

you can go the entire pacifist run and never talk to him or hang out with him any more than the unskippable cutscenes make you. undyne... papyrus... alphys... all these people are MANDATORY gameplay, to the point that flowey will tell you to go back and be better friends with them to get your happy ending. all of them... except sans. and he'll STILL care about you and love you and root for you by the end of the game (daww what a softie).

he's far from unknown, he's one of the most popular/well liked personalities in snowdin, he has a standup gig at the biggest hotel in the underground, he works for asgore, he has god knows how many jobs AND he sells food at them so people know his face. he's friends with the goddamn queen. and yet... it's like he passes through the underground like a ghost. both noticed and elemental to the story's meaning, yet utterly useless in moving it anywhere. it's like he joined the game as an afterthought

[hlfmoonshine]

angel's name on walter's lips had always done something to the demon, but this was different. the yearning, like a desperate prayer or a lingering curse. only angel was the one who was cursed, wasn't he? cursed to love a man he knew with no uncertainty that he was terrible for. it was bullet time, the tiny shift of walter leaning in, his lips ghosting over angel's, everything going on high alarm in angel's mind. it felt like forever, but by the time walter had moved back, even just a little, the alarms had been cut and angel was a fucking goner. walt leaned in once more, their lips meeting once more and bullet time ended, the echo of his name around him as he reached for walter. his finger's grasped at the other's hips and pulled him in. pathetic, really, just how much angel wanted him. like the dam he'd built to keep his feelings away had broke and the only resource he needed to survive from here on out was the taste of walter's lips against his own.

Walter noticed the demons lingering eyes and as if on queue he leaned closer." Angel." The ex hunter whispered before brushing his lips against his in a kiss. Maybe this was a bad idea but Walt didn't really care, a bad idea could turn into a great one and he could worry about it later. He was already going to Hell anyway, kissing Angel was the least of his worries.

"Angel." He repeats the demons name again kissing him once more, almost as if reciting a prayer in the night. The demon could take his soul right there and then, he would me the happiest man ever.

[elenavr13]

DA Playlist

38 songs

—

The Lonely- Christina Perry

Migraine- TOP

Bones- NateWantsToBattle

Goner- TOP

Panic Room- Au/Ra

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid- The Offspring

Dynasty- MIIA

Cry Baby- Melanie Martinez

Lost Boy- Ruth B.

Can You Feel the Sun- MISSIO

ANTIHERO- AViVA

Death Bed- Powfu

Failure To Comply- MISSIO

How Villains Are Made- Madalen Duke

Obsolete- NateWantsToBattle

My Demons- Starset

What I Could Have Been- Sting

Prom Dress- mxmtoon

Jealousy, Jealousy- Olivia Rodrigo

Six Feet Under- Billie Eilish

Time- NF

Unsteady- X Ambassadors

Survivor- 2WEI & Edda Hayes

Polarize- TOP

Look Who’s Inside Again- Bo Burnam

Lovely- Billie Eilish & Khalid

Afraid- The Neighbourhood

Angels- Within Temptation

Saints- Echo

Killer In The Mirror- Set It Off

Crawling- Linkin Park

My Heart Is Broken - Evanescence

Kill Your Conscience- Shinedown

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last

The Zombie Song- Stephanie Mabey (AHWM-walk to base)

Ghost- Au/Ra

Dark On Me- Starset (referring to Damien)

Castle of Glass- Linkin Park

[everysongineverykey]

It might not be anything either, but with all the connections to water in Deltarune and the freaky stuff; isn't it also fascinating how Waterfall is so important to the underground in Undertale?

Where you can meet (probably) Gaster? Goner Kid? Clam Girl Goner? Where the Underground gets all its technology from surface refuse? Right next to the Hotlands/CORE?

Waterfall is a really, really weird place. Even in my first playthrough it felt out of place compared to the rest of Undertale somehow, not in a bad way but in a 'this feels like its something different' way.

And if River Person can hear a song from 'the sea', then..

flashing back to my long rambly post about how fucking weird waterfall is YES. YES. it's the way that waterfall has no real residents except aquatic monsters who NEED to live near water to survive (onionsan, undyne, aaron, woshua, clamgirl, clamguy, shyren, etc) and how there's a bit in the unused npcs section of the undertale art book (or maybe the waterfall section?) with an unused waterfall npc who says "me? nah, i'm just visiting. no one really lives here anymore."

no one really lives there anymore. it is a place literally inhabited by ghosts and memories. the flashback to chara and asriel's first meeting where we first hear the song "memory". the history plaques. the legendary artifact. the titan-looking music box statue. the first view of the king's castle. the area music is ominous and sweeping and almost solemn instead of curious or warm or gentle or playful or whimsical like in the ruins or snowdin or hotland. the way it's where monsters go to pretend they can see the stars. the old garbage from the surface that the monsters have to rely on for technology. "a drawing of a strange creature... there's something very unsettling about this picture." the countless ancient moments and conversations immortalized in the echo flowers...

waterfall is a museum. it's a museum, a graveyard, a place of ghosts and memories and history, a memorial to things and people long gone. i LOVE it.

[jxtina-86]

Homecoming

I've got some making up to do. Roman Reigns/OC.

Warning: Smut/Language

Rating: MA

I grumble into the pillow, my back cold, the sheets tangled around my legs. I stretch out to my right, expecting to run my hand over her body, to claim back the cover, to pull her into my arms. I groan as I feel cold sheets instead. I lift my head and squint around the room; I'm alone aside from the clothes strewn across the floor.

Rolling over, I ease myself upright and rub the sleep from my eyes. I must have been dead to the world when she arrived home, the trans-atlantic flight taking its toll as usual. There was a birthday, a promise to be kept and I couldn't. She was halfway through getting ready when I pushed open the bedroom door as quietly as possible. She was standing by the closet door, hair draped over one shoulder, exposing her bare back as she pondered the available choices. She squealed when I slid my hands around her waist, turning her in my arms to kiss her in apology. Her fingers dug into my neck as she pulled me closer.

And then she was pushing me away, telling me not to be silly, that she'd be fine, that the last thing I needed was to spend the night in some bar with overpriced liquor, when I should be in bed. She practically tucked me in before depositing a fair amount of red lipstick on my lips and disappearing in a haze of perfume, glitter and giggles. I almost disobeyed her orders: the sight of her ass in those pants was enough to tempt anyone from their bed. But the minute my head sunk back against the pillows, I was a goner.

Said pants are now inside out on the floor, along with the skyscraper heels that make her legs go on forever. I've lost count how many times we've stumbled home, only for me to strip her of everything but those shoes. My ass is marred with the scars from when she's wrapped her legs around my waist and dug those heels deep. I totally missed my chance last night.

It looks like I've missed my chance this morning too. Jet-lag is a bitch. I kick my legs free from the covers and head to the dresser for sweatpants. Making breakfast is a sure-fire way to make it up to her. Pancakes, waffles, bacon – I know the way to my girl's heart. Her post-pancake lips are beyond irresistible to me. I can almost taste the maple syrup as I envisage exactly how I'll make it up to her.

I slide the dresser drawer home and only then do I hear the hum from the bathroom. I tug the pants up, loosely knotting the tie before I slowly twist the door handle. The smell of lemon hits me instantly, as does the sound of running water.

I slide in, closing the door behind me and leaning against it, smirking at the sight that greets me. Although the shower screen is clouded with steam, I can still make out her figure as she faces away from me, her head leaning back as she runs her hands through her wet hair. Her hands pull the thick strands together as she squeezes the water free before she drops her head forward to wet it again.

She hums as she does, an occasional line breaking free.

Hot sun making me sweat, 'gators getting close hasn't got me yet

Her hips sway back and forth with ease to a beat that I can't hear from where I stand. But I don't want to move, not yet, my mind far too preoccupied with the thought of those hips fitting snugly against mine, moving as one.

She's got a body under that shirt, but all she wants to do is rub my face in the dirt

Her shoulders roll along with her hips, as she dips low. She turns, eyes closed, the water hitting her face as she trails her hands down her sides, the edges blurred behind the steamed glass, but are all too clear in my mind's eye. She reaches out to the side and suddenly I can hear the music loud and clear as she cranks up the volume, the guitar and steady beat echoing around the room.

But I can't dance, I can't talk...

Her head rolls forwards as her hands slide over her stomach and I swallow hard. She pushes her hair back with a hand that then ghosts back over her face and down to her breasts.

A perfect body with the perfect face

The beat kicks up a notch and she starts to turn on the spot, her hips rotating to the extreme and my mouth is dry.

The music fade, the sound of a car commercial flooding the room. I jump, cursing as I hit my elbow on the doorframe and her hand comes up to wipe the steam from the glass.

Her cheeks are flushed red, her mouth in the perfect pout. I grin as she reaches out to switch off the in-shower radio.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. Nice moves by the way, but they don't top mine.” I push off the door and double-foot shuffle my way towards her. Her pout breaks and she rolls her eyes as she slides open the shower door to welcome me.

“Fred Astaire's quaking in his boots...”

“Less of the sarcasm, please.” I lean down to kiss her and her lips are warm and soft, just as they've always been.

She sighs into my mouth and I feel a wet hand on my stomach, sinking south. A finger slides between skin and waistband as I cup the back of her head, feeling the water run over the back of my hand.

“You should've woken me up,” I murmur as I pull away to push my sweatpants down and kick them aside.

“I tried, you ignored me.” She looks up at me coyly, curling a finger and beckoning me to follow as she moves back under the stream of water. She blinks as it runs down her face and then she's against the wall, her hands reaching out to me. I step into the spray and let it soak my hair and skin before I press against her.

“I'm sorry about last night,” I mumble into her neck as her fingers dance over my shoulders.

“S'okay, you were tired.”

“What did I miss?”

“Jose came out to play.”

I groan as her fingers slide through my hair. Tequila makes her do things.

She giggles softly, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to my right bicep, her tongue tracing over the lines of my tattoo. “I was a good girl.”

I chuckle and I'm met with a soft slap across my chest as she pouts up at me. “Sure, a good girl...”

“I can be good.”

“Yeah?” I run a finger down her cheek and then push wet strands of hair from her face. I lean forward, feeling her shiver against me as I trace my tongue over the curve of her ear. “I prefer it when you're not.”

“Tell me something I don't know,” she moans, her hands gripping my waist and pulling me flush against her. My dick jerks as it presses against her stomach. Her hand slides between us and I hiss as her hand wraps around my length, her thumb brushing over the tip before she slowly starts to pump her fist.

My head drops forward, my forehead resting on her shoulder as her fist tightens. I clench my own fist against the wall, bracing myself as her mouth brushes against my chest. Her hand loosens for a second, a solitary finger trailing from tip to base before she cups my balls and her fingernails gently scrape the sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” I stammer as her hand returns to fisting my length. I've got both hands on the wall, my knees trembling as her mouth sinks lower, her tongue flicking over my nipple whilst her free hand traces patterns over my abs.

“I missed you,” she mumbles against my skin. Her hand tightens, her thumb stroking the tip with every other stroke.

“Missed... You... Too...” I struggle to get out as her tongue follows her fingers over my stomach and further south.

I really have. There's only so much that dirty texts, nude snapchats and sweet nothings through a cellphone can do. And even though imagination is a powerful tool, nothing comes close to the real thing. Words only go so far. And even though her tongue can conjure up some pretty awesome images in my mind, it does a far better job when it's showing rather than telling.

She calls my name. “Look at me.”

I do as she says and I'm all ready to blow my load right then and there. She crouches below me, wet hair clinging to the side of her face, her shoulders, her back as she looks up at me. My dick is leaking before her, her hand still gripping me firmly but her pace has slowed. She opens her mouth, the pouty red lips parting to let her tongue slip out. She doesn't break my gaze as she flicks the tip across the head, once, twice. I watch through blurred vision as she flattens her tongue against the underside and lets my dick slide slowly inside her mouth. Her cheeks hollow, her lips expanding over my length as I struggle to keep upright.

I groan as the tip hits the back of her throat and I feel her ease me back, her tongue swirling over the head before she takes me in again. All the time, she never looks away and I'm hypnotised, watching as her hand continues to circle the base, tugging me slowly but surely towards my release. I feel my balls tighten, struggling to keep my hips still, fighting the internal battle between desire and sense. All I want to do is fuck her mouth until I explode in her throat but watching her undo me like this is a gift in itself.

She moves her hands to my hips, pushing me back until I slip from her mouth with a soft pop.

“Do it.”

“What?” I rasp.

“What you want to do.”

I groan as she pulls my hips towards her and my dick pushes through her lips once again. Her hands slide to my thighs as I pull back and then push against her again. Her eyes flutter closed as I hit the back of her throat again and again. Her lips strain around my length as I increase my speed. She hums as I drop one hand from the wall to cup the back of her head, my fingers lacing through her hair as I feel my dick slide down her throat. Her eyes flash open and I hastily pull back, but she grips my thighs and pulls me back in again.

“Fuck!” I grunt, my knees starting to buckle. She moans, the vibrations shuddering around my length as I start to come undone. But it's not the sensation that does me in. No, it's the way her eyes lock with mine as I thrust forward one last time, the way her lips look as they come close to the base, the way her face flushes red, the way a bead of water edges down the side of her face and the way her cheeks hollow one last time.

Half-formed words tumble from my mouth as I jolt and shoot my load down her throat. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel her swallow, her tongue eagerly lapping at the underside of my dick as she lets me slide from her mouth. She presses her lips to the tip, my hand still gripping the back of her head, her hair knotted around my fingers. She giggles as I twitch against her.

“Might be a bit too soon for round two...” she murmurs.

I lean down and de-tangle my hand, before scooping her up in my arms. My mouth crashes against hers and I can taste my essence on her tongue. Her arms lock around my neck as I lift her up and press her against the wall. I slide one hand down her side and hook her leg around my waist. Gripping her thigh and pinning her with my chest, I run a finger down her neck, pressing against her pulse point and feeling it spike. Further south, I trace the swell of her breast against my skin, then follow the curve down. She flinches as I brush the sensitive spot just below her ribs and she nips at my bottom lip in retaliation.

At her hip, I tug her other leg up, but instead of wrapping it around my waist like the other, I let it rest on my arm as I slip my hand between us. Her fingers are in my hair, tugging firmly as I let my fingers trace the apex of her thigh and sex. I ease back slightly and let my mouth slide from hers, settling on her neck instead. Her small strip of hair is damp from the shower and I graze my finger over it, feeling her shiver in my arms.

My thumb flicks over her clit as I bite the skin just below her ear. She hisses in response. I guide my thumb in slow circles, my tongue doing the same to the spot on her neck.

“Shit...”

I continue to tease her clit as I manoeuvre the rest of my fingers further south, one running along her wet slit. It slips in easily and her moan seems never-ending. I nip at her collarbone, lifting her higher as I slowly push my finger in and out of her.

“More,” she mutters, her hands turning to fists as I lower my head to her breast. I flick my tongue over her hard peak, drawing another expletive from her lips. I pull out my one finger and replace it with two, slowly spreading them inside her, feeling her walls grip them tightly.

She whimpers as I release her nipple from my mouth, but she soon gives me a soft moan of appreciation as I switch to the other. My fingers are coated in her wetness as I withdraw them and rub them against her clit, before pushing three back inside her. She grips them firmly as I curl the middle one to press against the spot that makes her lose all sense of time and place.

She arches against me, thrusting her breasts into my face even more. I press open-mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, my tongue tracing a path in the valley between the two. Her hands push me south, her legs sliding up my back until I'm on my knees, one hand gripping her waist, holding her steady as she finds her balance. She moves one leg to the floor, but before she can move the other one, I shake my head, my hair gently grazing her thighs. I palm her leg softly before hitching it over my shoulder.

I look up at her and see that she's got her eyes closed, head back against the wall as she tries to steady herself. I slide my fingers from her and she groans at the lack of intrusion. I reach up with the same hand and cup her face. Her eyes flick open and she stares down at me for a second, before capturing my pointer finger with her mouth. I rest my nose against the strip of hair, breathing in her scent and the lemon shower gel that still lingers despite our antics.

“I want to cum...” she groans above me.

And I'm all too happy to oblige. I blow gently across her clit and grip her hips as she bucks against me. With the tip of my tongue, I circle the bundle of nerves over and over again until she's cursing my name and her hands tug my hair hard.

“Patience is a virtue,” I rumble.

“I have no virtues,” she hits back with a hiss.

I swipe my tongue along her slit, groaning at the taste; she tastes better than ever. I push my tongue deep into her, my thumb pressing her clit as I do. Her hands tighten their hold and her hips rise and fall as I drink from her.

“Please...”

I spread my lips over hers and kiss her deeply before I replace my tongue with my fingers again and wrap my lips around her clit instead. I tease it again and again with my tongue until she screams my name. It echoes around the room, drowning out the pounding water as her hips buck higher and I have to pull my fingers from her grasp and grip her hips instead as she snaps and breaks in my arms.

She slides down the wall, her leg still over my shoulder, my head still buried between her thighs. Her juices coat my beard and I feel drunk on them. She collapses in my arms, her body squashed in half between me and the wall. Her hair sticks to her face and her lips are red raw from her sharp teeth.

“You should go away more often,” she murmurs once she catches her breath.

I cock an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

I pull her close and ease us back under the spray. She buries her face in my neck, as I tug her arms and legs around me. Her wet thighs stick to mine and my dick stirs. If the floor wouldn't leave her red raw, I'd fuck her right here and now, with the water beating on my back, her legs on my shoulders so I could bite her calves as she cums again and again.

I gently push her up to standing and she stands under the spray as I get to my feet as well. I pull her back to me, hugging her close as I switch off the shower and slide the door open. I go to grab a towel, but she stops me.

“Fuck me.”

She looks up at me with a look I can never resist. I ghost my lips over her's until she grips my neck and pulls me to her. We stumble backwards, mouthes glued together until I hit the vanity unit and twist us around so I can lift her on it. I drag my mouth away from hers, down her throat, to her breasts again, using my teeth to harden one nipple, whilst my fingers pinch the other into life once again.

My dick slides against her damp thighs and when I hit her wetness, I groan. She reaches between us and guides me home. We both freeze at the intrusion and I lift my head to hold her gaze. Inch by inch I sink into her, watching her mouth slowly open and her eyes flutter closed. I grip her ass as I push into the hilt. Her head rocks forward to rest against my shoulder as I lift her from the vanity and slowly, my dick still deep inside her, walk out of the bathroom and back to the bed.

I kneel on the edge and lower her down onto the crumpled sheets. My hands glide over her hips as I pull out and then push back in. Her hands reach up to my face, her fingers ghosting over my features until she grips the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers. I hitch one leg under the crook of my arm and then the other, driving home over and over again. Her back arches up and I feel her tighten around my length.

I coax her through it, my mouth at her ear, whispering all the things I'm going to do to her in the next 72 hours. She mumbles in agreement as I draw back to watch the red flush creep up her neck. Her eyes squeeze shut as I slow my pace and I know she's close again.

I pull out of her, ignoring her angry groan. It'll be worth it. She's almost limp in my arms as I turn her over, letting her stretch out to grip the sheets as I lift her hips up. I nudge her legs apart with my own. She presses her chest against the bed, her ass rising higher as she does. I can't help but give it a gentle smack. She hums, turning her head to the side, her mouth twisting into a small smile.

“Behave...”

I lean forward, moulding my body against hers, my dick slipping against her opening. She kisses me softly. I reach between us and guide my dick inside her, my mouth capturing her moan before I straighten and rock her hips back and forth. Her hands twist the sheets into knots as I force sweet sounds from the back of her throat. I look down, my hands moving from her hips to her ass, pushing the cheeks apart to watch my glistening dick disappear and reappear.

“Fuck, babe...” I'm close too and if I'm not too careful, I'm going to cum before she can again. And that's not how I treat my girl, not ever. I reach forward, gather her in my arms and pull her flush against me.

Her wet hair whips against my face, as I tug her arms up and back to wrap around my neck. I drop my hands to her waist, one gripping her hip as I thrust in and out of her, whilst the other sinks lower and flick my thumb over her clit. She squirms at the sensitivity, but I keep going, nuzzling her neck until she turns her face to me and I can claim her lips and moans as I piston into her one last time.

She's so fucking tight and I'm fighting to keep upright as I empty inside her. She's trembling in my arms as my thumb pushes her over the edge and she breaks away from my mouth with a shout. My knees give way and we fall forwards.

I brace my arms on the bed, desperately trying not to crush her with my weight. Her hands seek out mine, her fingers running over my knuckles as she nestles beneath me. I brush my lips over the back of her neck before rolling to the side and pulling her close.

“I think I need another shower,” she groans into my chest.

“Can I scrub your back?”

“If you're good.”

I tip her chin back with my finger. “When aren't I?”

She doesn't reply, just grins and wriggles out of my grasp and heads back to the bathroom, calling me to follow.

She doesn't have to ask twice.

Fin.