#i might cave now
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Was reading up on Pochacco because of this years april fools event in Granblue Fantasy, and
Me:
Anyone who shares my love of banana ice cream is a real one, I'm sorry I ignored your merch all the time 🧎🏾♀️➡️
#i never thought too hard about him theres so many mascots and i rarely saw him enough to look into it#but this absolutely changes up my rankings#he has superior taste#he's from fuwafuwa town🥺#he weighs three 🥕#im gonna sob 😭#the only merch i have of him are some earbuds i literally never charge but i was eying some cute pochacco merch at miniso yesterday#i might cave now
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Hear me out
#HEAR ME THE HELL OUT.#HE IS SUCH AN INTERESTING FELLOW TO ME#HIS SOUND EFFECTS ARE SO GOOD. HIS DESIGN IS SO GOOD LOOK AT HIS HAIR.#THE FUCKING SWAG HE HAS MY GODDDDD#it might help that he’s purple now that I’m thinking about it. but that’s not the only reason I like him#I just. this is a good game#this is a great game and I’m having fun and I love this stupid motherfucker so much#have you seen him run? his stupid little run? how could you not love him???#mario bros#mario and luigi#mario and luigi brothership#ten Mario and Luigi#mario and luigi ten#extension corps#Starry speaks#legit so sorry I’m not active I’ve been in a cave playing this nonstop for days#I’ll be more active eventually. eventually
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“hold” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 488 words
this, but make it jegulus (i tried to get it as close to the original as possible)
Remus is sitting in an armchair doubled over with laughter. Sirius has fallen out of him chair and is cackling on the floor with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Regulus is sitting on the couch trying his best to stay composed. And James in standing in the middle of the room with more passion and fire in his eyes than Regulus has ever seen.
“Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!” James is shouting.
“James—” Regulus tries to calmly interrupt.
“HOLD ON!” James looks pointedly at Regulus and his eyes look like they’re going to literally pop out of his head. “Her sister was a witch, right?” Regulus is trying so hard to hold back his laughter. “And what was her sister? A princess! The Wicked Witch of the East, Reg.” James is yelling, not unkindly just very passionately, looking directly at Regulus and nodding his head aggressively to emphasize every point.
James starts pacing in genuine distress. Sirius is rolling on the floor holding his stomach and laughing so hard his entire body is shaking. Remus has his hands over his mouth, which is doing absolutely nothing to contain his laughter.
Regulus stands up to meet James in the middle of the room. “I’m gonna stab him.” He mumbles under his breath, which makes Sirius laugh even harder—if that’s even possible.
James whips around to face Regulus. “You’re gonna looks at me and you’re gonna tell me that I’m wrong? Am I wrong?” James asks emphatically.
And the thing is—James is, in fact, very wrong. “It’s my favorite—” Regulus tries to interject but can’t even get a word in.
“She wore a crown, and she came down in a bubble, Reg!” And that proves absolutely nothing.
Regulus knows he’ll never get James to listen to him. “I’m not fighting with you.” He shakes his head, chuckling fondly.
James makes his way out of the living room. “Grow up!” He says over his shoulder.
“I’m not fighting with you.” Regulus says again.
“Grow up.” James seems to be losing steam as he leaves the room.
“Get educated!” Regulus yells then flops down on the couch and finally lets his laughter out.
Eventually Regulus, Sirius and Remus’ laugher fades into soft chuckles as they calm down and take several deep breaths to compose themselves.
It’s a few minutes later when James appears in the doorway with a sheepish look on his face—that Regulus thinks is adorable. He slowly makes his way over to the couch and sits down beside Regulus. He’s quiet for a few moments then turns slightly to look at Regulus.
“I’m not really mad.” James says in a small voice. “And you know I love you, right?”
Regulus chuckles fondly and takes James’ face in his hands. “Yes, I know you love me, Jamie.” He leans in to kiss James softly then pulls back the tiniest bit. “But you’re still wrong.” Regulus whispers against James lips.
#i couldn’t help myself#this was so funny to me - i was giggling the entire time i was writing it#but i'm also sleep deprived so maybe i'm just tired#i think reg and james would definitely have arguments about nothing like this#because they’re both so stubborn and can never let anything go#but even if it’s not a real argument james can never stay upset with reg#so he’s always the first to cave#the guy says ‘i'm gonna stab him’ which is obviously so very reg#i have no idea what this argument was about but reg loves the wizard of oz and wicked so he’s clearly correct regardless#wicked is still rotting my brain#i know this was ridiculous#i might write a real one after i get some sleep and i can think more clearly#i go to sleep now - good night my friends#regulus loves james#james loves regulus#jegulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfiction#marauders fanfiction#regulus black#james potter#marauders#james x regulus#regulus x james#marauders era#harry potter#dead gay wizards from the 70s#starchaser#sunseeker#jeggyverse microfic
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Dogs Will Hunt (Slasher AU)
Honey It's Alright - Part 1
Read on AO3
Dark Fic! Please mind the warnings
Contains: Stalking, Allusion to past kidnapping, Canon-typical violence, Canon-atypical violence, dub con touching, implied dub con/non con, threats of death and violence, just general bad vibes, playing with my OCs like dolls and putting them in situations. Morgan is from Sparrow, and Kitty is from Wildflowers and Honey. This is not canon to their stories at all.
~7,500 words - MDNI
For the first time in ages, Morgan let herself relax, sitting at the kitchen table, slotting the pieces of her rifle back together, the comforting smell of gun grease heavy in the humid summer air. The windows were open to the night, and there was nothing but crickets out there, a shrill chorus in the background, the occasional chirping frog or whistling bird joining the twilight chorus.
She'd given John the slip-- If he was going to find her he would have by now. It had been months since she escaped his cellar (she'd been down there for weeks because of bad behaviour, and he'd gone hunting, leaving her alone with Soap and an opportunity), she'd dug the tracker out of her skin in Greece, zig-zagged across the continent leaving clues for him to chase down, and then stowed away on a shipping container headed to the states. She'd walked most of the way from the coast to her little house in Montana, where an identity totally removed from her old life waited for her. She was lucky she'd set that up as a fail-safe years ago. She only had three identities that maintained themselves so neatly, and Sarah and Blaire were both a little to close to John's house in Northern England to be comfortable. So she was Rebecca Carter now.
And it was nice. So much like home, and no one looked at her weird for carrying a rifle in the backseat of her truck. She found work when she got tired of pacing the cabin with nothing to do, helping repair a neighbour's tractor, and then a few cars, until everyone in town knew she was pretty handy with anything with an engine. It made her nervous, being so known, but there was nothing for it in a small town. Would’ve been more notable if she never spoke to anyone.
The crunch of gravel coming up the long lonely track that ended at her cabin set her heart hammering, the moment of relaxation gone, but she tried to calm herself down again when she peeked out the window, rifle at the ready, and saw that it was just Kitty driving up in her beat up silver Buick.
"Hey, Kit," she called out, stepping onto the porch, hiding her anxiety behind a big smile. "Car trouble?" The car was making a very unhappy grinding sound that stopped when the car did, although the engine still didn’t sound too healthy. Poor Kitty was running patch to patch with that stupid car, but Morgan was happy to help her out. Kitty was the sort of girl that had sorely needed a friend, and she’d attached herself to Morgan pretty quickly, despite her efforts to stay aloof.
She was too soft. Friends were liabilities these days, nothing but trouble. Another avenue for John to find her, if he was even still looking. He’d probably given up when the trail went cold. Even a bloodhound like him couldn’t search forever.
"Yeah! Could you take a look?" Kitty cut the engine and popped the hood, an apologetic look on her face as she climbed out of the driver's seat. "Sorry it's so late, I just got off my shift."
"Hey, no sweat honey. You know I'm never up to all that much."
Kitty was a pretty little thing, a hand-span shorter than Morgan, small boned like a bird, all soft curves and wide doe-like eyes peering out of her round face. Full of anxious energy most of the time, and especially now, nerves stretched thin after a long shift of avoiding grasping hands and smiling wide through it all. She bounced on her toes as Morgan leaned over the engine, watching. "Yeah. Owen said he asked you out. Why'd you say no?"
"Don't like him that much," Morgan said, shrugging. "Had my fill of men."
Kitty bit her lip, folding her hands behind her back. "Forever?" she asked.
Morgan braced her arms on the car, looking over. "Why do I feel like there's an ask attached to that question?"
"Well. Mason asked me out. He's got a friend workin' at the depot, Jack— I actually don’t know his last name— and he'd like to turn it into a double date. Think he knows I won't be so twitchy if you're there with me."
"When's this?"
"Tomorrow night, if you're free. Figured you would be, so I already said yes, but I can ask Mason not to bring his buddy if you can't. No pressure. Lord knows I owe you plenty already, can't ask for a favour."
"You don't owe me shit, Kitty. We're friends."
“Don’t have a lot of friends who do as much for me as you do,” Kitty said, her expression turning sheepish. “You really don’t have to say yes. Just figured you might want to get out, meet somebody. It’s not good for a person to spend as much time alone as you do.”
“Already know everyone I’d like to. But I’ll come along, if you want me too. Promise to be nice and everything.”
Kitty laughed. “Everyone knows your bark is worse than your bite by now, Beck. It’ll be fun. Maybe Jack’ll turn out to be the one. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Morgan grunted noncommittally. “Probably won’t be. Think it’s one of the wheel bearings. Is the car shaking when you drive?”
Kitty nodded. “Yeah. Is that bad?”
“Well it’s not good. Let me get underneath and check it out. The jack’s in my truck.” Morgan went inside to grab her keys and came back out, frowning. Kitty had already opened up the back door of the truck for her.
“Looks like you left it open,” she said. “I don’t even know why you bother to lock it, all the way out here.”
“I’m not keen on the idea of someone getting into my shit.” Morgan gently moved Kitty to the side and leaned in to grab the box of emergency supplies from under the back seat, her nose wrinkling. The cab smelled wrong, like tobacco smoke and cedar— Like John.
Dread settled into her stomach like lead. He’d found her. He’d been in her truck, probably been in her house— She dropped the box back in and scanned the trees surrounding the cabin, hunting for anything out of the ordinary.
“What’s the matter?” Kitty asked. “You’re all pale.”
“My ex has been here. He’s a sick fuck, Kit. I need to get out of town.” She looked at Kitty, the lead in her belly turning molten, hot with guilt and anger. What if she’d put Kitty in danger too? It was a mistake to have friends. A mistake to think John wouldn’t track her down. She should have kept moving, shouldn’t have let her guard down, should have just turned around somewhere and waited for him to catch up and killed him.
Her stomach churned. What if he’d been following her the whole time? What if he’d been in town as long as she had? “Kit, did you meet that Jack guy? He ever been to the diner?”
Kit nodded, her eyes wide as saucers. “Y-yeah, he’s a regular. Beck, you’re really freaking me out.”
“What’s he look like?”
“Um. Big. Handsome. Blue eyes, beard, a smile that’s all in his eyes. Um. He’s got a mole, or a freckle on his nose. He’s really nice though, Beck, he always tips well, and he’s never pawed at me.” Kitty scrubbed her hands on the polyester skirt of her uniform nervously. “And he’s been here almost as long as you have. And he’s English,” she added, as if that made it impossible for him to be John, rather than the nail in Morgan’s proverbial coffin.
Morgan swallowed acid. He’d been here for months, watching her let her guard down slowly, laughing at her, watching her get close to Kitty. “Fuck. That’s him.” Morgan grabbed Kitty’s hand and pulled her into the house. She locked the front door and closed the kitchen window. “Stay here a sec. I have to sweep the house.”
“Sweep?” Kitty asked blankly. “But…” She trailed off when she saw Morgan pick up the rifle. “Oh.”
Morgan checked all the rooms quickly, closing windows as she went, hunting for any sign of John. He wasn’t there, thank fucking god. She returned to the kitchen. “Kit, I’m leaving town tonight. I think you should come with me. If John’s been here this long, he might hurt you to get back at me. I don’t want that to happen.” She cupped Kitty’s face, hands trembling. “He’ll know how much I care about you.”
Kitty’s breath hitched, big brown eyes flicking between Morgan’s, like she was hunting for a sign it was a joke, or a lie. “You want me to come with you?”
“Please. I can’t let him hurt you, Kit. I’m going to pack a bag. You think about it. I can’t promise that you’ll be safer with me, but I can promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive.”
Kitty swallowed. “I’ll come with you,” she whispered. “Can— Can I get my things?”
“Yeah. Hopefully he thinks we’re still gonna show up for that date. Which’ll give us a good head start. We’ll drop by your apartment on the way out of town.” Morgan marched back to her room, Kitty close on her heels, and threw things into a bag, prioritizing dark, basic clothes and essentials. She pulled her shoulder harness on over her t-shirt and took her pistols from their hiding spots, checking both for tampering before sliding them into the holsters under her arms. She threw an oversized denim jacket on over top and zipped up the bag. “Let’s go.”
Kitty shook from nerves, but held herself together admirably, following Morgan out to the truck and sitting in the passenger seat as Morgan rifled through everything, searching for the tracker John had most certainly planted in the vehicle. Probably in anticipation of her fleeing their “date” the next day.
She found two, one tucked into the curling pages of the manual in the glovebox, and a magnetic one stuck under the back bumper. She stuck that one to Kitty’s car, and tossed the other one underneath it. Then she hopped into the driver’s seat and drove away from the place that had been home for months now, her heart twisting viciously in her chest.
In an instant, Becca became a stranger.
Beck was unshakable, cool and calm, detached. And then she wasn’t.
That someone could frighten her this much… It terrified Kitty. Made her sick to think that a favourite regular— a friend— was someone that would hurt Beck— That would hurt her to get at Beck. That she’d been smiling at him all this time, won over by the accent and the charm, the genuine interest in her sad little life. Those sincere blue eyes. He’d seemed so nice.
She held onto the corner of Becca’s jacket as she checked for intruders in Kitty’s apartment, and then packed a bag as quickly as she could, following Beck’s directions to pack practical clothes, to keep things light. That was easy. There wasn’t all that much in the place she cared about. The only sentimental items she took were the little photo album from her childhood and her jewellery box. She could sell things, if they needed the money. She wasn’t really sure what life on the run would entail. Wasn’t sure if she was up for it.
But she’d try. Better to try, and stay close to Beck. She’d said she’d protect her, and Kitty believed it.
They didn’t say much until they hit the highway, lights from the cars on the other side of the grass median zipping past, illuminating Becca’s face in flashes. She looked grim, serious as a soldier, determined. It was almost a surprise to hear her speak after so long.
“I’m sorry this happened, Kitty. I should have known to stay away from you. I was selfish, and I put you in danger.”
“Selfish?” Kitty echoed, guilt pooling in her guts. “You’re the furthest thing from selfish! Always doin’ things for other folks— Doin’ things for me that no one else would. You’ve been a better friend than anyone in that whole rotten town.”
“You just lost everything because of me,” Becca said.
“I’d do it again!” Kitty declared. She felt bold, unmoored, nothing to lose anymore. “I’d rather have you than anything I left behind.”
Becca’s hand curled around hers, resting on her leg. Kitty’s heart skipped several beats. “I just hope I haven’t made things worse for you. I won’t let him hurt you, I swear. But if— If I ever tell you to run, I want you to run, and don’t look back. If he catches me— Well. It won’t be good. I don’t know what he’ll do to me. I don’t want him to do it to you.”
Kitty swallowed hard. “Who— Who is he?”
“John Price. He’s a killer. We met at a bar near my hometown about two years ago. Northern Ontario. He was nice enough. Handsome, charming. Drugged me. Woke up in the middle of the woods, just me and him. Said he’d give me a half hour head start. He likes the chase. Likes to hunt.” Her face twisted with anger at the memory, but her voice was nearly robotic as she recounted it, as thought she’d locked away all the emotion to keep it from overwhelming her. “I got away. Was more familiar with the area, better than he thought I’d be at running and navigating through the woods. My parents used to have me run— Well, it doesn’t matter. It took me a week to get home. Had to hunt with my boot knife if I wanted to eat, couldn’t stop for long anywhere. It was exhausting. I guess he thought so too, because he gave up the chase, and ambushed me at home. Wasn’t careful enough. I’m usually so cautious, but I was too tired.”
Kitty squeezed her hand lightly. “I’m sorry, Beck.”
“It’s Morgan.”
“Huh?”
“Morgan’s my actual name. Figure you should know it.”
“Oh.” That stood to reason, didn’t it? She wouldn’t have been using her real name if she was hiding out. “What— What did he do to you?”
“Well, he didn’t kill me. I guess he decided I was worth keeping. That I was more fun alive than dead. He took me home with him. Decided he wanted to play house. It was play along or get locked in the cellar for days or weeks. Sometimes he wouldn’t turn the lights on and I’d just have to sit there in the dark, all alone until he came for me. It could have been worse more often, but it was usually the cellar. He didn’t want to hurt me, he wanted to break me.”
Kitty swallowed nervously. "He sounds awful. I can't believe he sat in my diner and acted so normal when he's… like that."
"Well that's the thing about John. When he's getting his way? He's downright pleasant. Didn't get nasty until I tried to run, or broke the rules, or failed a task on purpose. If I played housewife right he was… loving, almost. Some bastardized version of that. Indulgent. It was fucked up." Beck-- No, Morgan's other hand gripped the steering wheel tight. "I hate him. I've tried to kill him a hundred times by now. He just keeps beating me."
She sounded so defeated. Angry and scared. It felt so strange to see her scared, when she was usually so together, so much stronger than anyone else Kitty knew.
They didn't stop until dawn, to fill the truck with fuel and for Morgan to get a shit gas station coffee. Kitty had fallen asleep at some point. Morgan hadn't let her drive when she’d offered, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, not just one night. The dark circles under her eyes were purple and puffy, but she shook her head again when Kitty offered to drive.
"I can go a little while longer. You get some more sleep."
"B-- Morgan. You've been driving all night. Let me help. You'll want to be sharp if he catches up to us." Kitty reached out and gently tugged the keys out of Morgan's hand. "We'll be better off if we take care of each other. It's not all on you."
Morgan relented. "Yeah. You wake me up if you see anything concerning. Stay on major roads, but just drive anywhere. If he’s following, we can lose him in the mountains for a day or two.” She sighed and leaned back in the seat while Kitty adjusted the one on the driver's side. "I'm sorry, Kit. This is so fucked."
"It's okay." Kitty steered the truck back onto the highway. "Not your fault."
"Yeah it is," Morgan grumbled, closing her eyes. "Maybe I shoulda stayed and fought. I don't know. Just hate that I've ruined your life."
“Didn’t have much of one to ruin. It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Morgan turned toward the window with a sigh, cushioning her head from the glass with the palm of her hand.
In the silence, Kitty had nothing to do but think. About how little she really knew about Morgan, about how much she had misjudged Jack— Or John, really. She felt pretty stupid for thinking— for saying anything about her to him. Mistakes on mistakes.
She still trusted Morgan. She’d tried to be distant at the beginning of their friendship, tried to keep Kitty away. But Kitty had been so eager to make a new friend that she’d ignored all those attempts at deflection and inserted herself into Morgan’s life anyway. When she’d said that Kitty didn’t want shit to do with her, this was what she meant.
They spent three days like that. Morgan seemed to have no problem driving twenty hours straight, and wouldn’t let Kitty drive for more than four hours at a time. She was tense, wound tight, jumpy every time they had to stop for gas. She relaxed just a hair on the fourth night, and started driving more purposefully, taking them North through the mountains. She seemed to know exactly where they were, even though it was all windy mountain roads and forests, broken up by the occasional late.
Morgan cursed when they came to a road closure, forced to go around and detour from her planned route, but it didn’t really seem to slow her down any. They stopped at a gas station in some tiny mountain town early in the morning. Kitty was surprised to see Canadian flags flying from some of the houses they passed. Had they gone over a border while she was sleeping? Morgan parked off to the side so they could use the washroom and buy a handful of snacks and a map in case there were any more holdups.
Morgan stopped short, eyes turning sharp. A car had parked beside the truck, clearly too close for her comfort.
Kitty eyed the two men warily as they stood outside their car, smoking. She’d have to squeeze past the bigger fellow to get into the passenger seat again. Morgan spotted that too, and flashed them big smiles. “Any chance you boys are locals?” she asked, voice pitched higher, the slightest southern drawl colouring her voice. How did she become someone else so easily? “We got a bit turned around with that road closure, was wondering if you knew any shortcuts to Vancouver.” She unfolded the map on the hood of their car without waiting for an answer. Predictably, both of the men stepped in close on either side of her, not so subtly checking out her ass.
“Not locals, m’afraid,” the big one said. “But funny enough, that’s where we’re ‘eaded too.”
“Real tricky findin’ places to stop through here.” The other one was big too, but not as big, a baseball cap with the union jack set tilted back on his head and a wide, bright white smile on his face. He leaned on the hood of their car, his fingertips a little too close to Morgan’s hand. “Nearly went through all our cigs. Wouldn’t’ve been pretty’f we ran out before we got here. Si’s a real bear without his nicotine.”
Kitty took the opportunity to slip past to the passenger door, trying to calm her nerves. Just because they were English didn’t mean they had anything to do with John. Morgan folded her map back up, still smiling.
“Thought y’wanted ‘elp gettin’ there,” Si said, tilting his head to the side.
Morgan just tapped her now folded map against his chest playfully. “If you’re not locals, you’re not gonna know any shortcuts are you? You’ll just get me lost!”
“Might be fun, gettin’ a bit lost with us,” baseball hat said. Kitty didn’t much like the edge to his smile. But maybe she was just imagining it.
Morgan laughed. “You ever been lost in the mountains before, sugar? Wouldn’t recommend it. Ain’t that many roads that go anywhere worth goin’.” She bounced back a step, and kicked at loose bit of gravel. “But maybe we’ll see you in the city. We’re headed to the beach. Water’ll be cold, but it’s supposed to be pretty nice. Bet you’d both look pretty good with your shirts off.” She winked at baseball hat and gave them a little wave before circling back around to the drivers side and starting up the truck.
She peeled out of the parking lot, her smile falling away. “Pretty sure those are John’s boys. They’re not gonna be happy when they realize I dropped spikes in front of their tires.”
Kitty blinked. “You— Is that what you were doing?”
“That, and making sure the big guy didn’t grab you or slip a tracker on you. Once we get some distance out, I’ll have to re-check the outside of the truck too.”
Kitty let out a shaky breath. “How do you live like this?” she asked. “How do you know what to do, what to check?”
Morgan shrugged. “You get used to it.”
Kitty wasn’t sure how someone ever could.
After that, Morgan turned grim again, pushing to cover ground fast. The brush with those men had scared her too. She’d been driving all night, but she didn’t stop until the mountains were a ways behind them, and the countryside had turned flat, fields on either side of them filled with waving grasses and the occasional farm. Kitty insisted on taking over at their next stop. Morgan looked wrecked, the days of driving and poor sleep catching up with her. Kitty didn’t feel much better, but at least she’d gotten more rest.
"Where are we going?" she asked once they were on their way again.
"I know a place we can get a plane. Then I figure South America? Lots of places to disappear there." Morgan yawned, glancing in the mirror surreptitiously, as though she expected to see danger right on their tail. “Basically just drive straight down this highway. Not a lot of alternative routes around here. Wake me up in three hours, that’s about when we need to make a couple turns.”
Traffic slowed down to a crawl after two, so she tapped Morgan’s shoulder gently. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I think the road’s closed up ahead.”
“Shit. No getting around it.” Morgan turned on the radio and flicked through stations until she found one that came in clear. “They’ll give a traffic update in a bit,” she said, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She came around fast, like she was used to waking up and moving quick. “We still inching forward every few minutes?”
Kitty nodded.
“They’ve prob’ly cleared a lane, be feeding folks through one side at a time. S’gonna suck, probably add three or four hours to the drive.”
“It’ll give you more time to sleep,” Kitty said.
They waited for the traffic report, grimacing at the details of it. Truck driver asleep at the wheel, veered into oncoming traffic and took out three cars. Only the truck driver and his passenger survived.
“Fuck, that’s a mess,” Morgan said grimly. “They need to regulate the industry better. That shit happens too often. Lots of drivers shouldn’t have a license, and the whole industry is overworked and pushed to get deliveries done in too short a time. S’fucked.”
Diplomatically, Kitty didn’t mention the fact that Morgan had been driving for sixteen hours straight herself. “There’s really no way around?”
“Might be, but that map I bought ended a good eighty kilometres ago. We’d better stay on this road or I’ll get us lost.” Morgan sighed. “We’re gonna lose our head start at this rate.”
“Already? He doesn’t know where we’re going, does he?”
“Doubt it. But I have to act like he’s right on my tail, because he usually is.” Morgan leaned her head back against the headrest with a sigh. “Let me get another hour of sleep, keep checking your mirrors, looking around. You see anything the slightest bit funny, wake me up again.”
Kitty nodded. “I will. Get some rest, Morgan.”
“What the fuck do you mean you rented out my plane?” Morgan snarled, resisting the urge to strangle the airfield manager, but only barely.
The portly, balding man with the name tag that said Tim Kent held his clipboard up defensively. “Look, we haven’t heard anything from you in over two years—”
“You still getting paid?”
“Well, y-yes,” Tim said nervously.
“Then why the fuck would you think that anything had changed?”
“Well, I— I um—”
“Forget it,” she snapped, holding up a hand. It was greed, and thinking he could get away with double dipping. She didn’t need him to say it. “When’s it back?”
“Tomorrow morning,” he said. “We’ll have it ready for you as soon as it comes back. There’s a motel, just down the highway— I know the owner, can get him to comp you a room, Ms. Winters.”
If it were just her, she'd sleep in the truck, with the doors locked and the keys in the ignition, ready to drive off at a moments notice. But Kitty-- Kitty needed a moment to collect herself, needed to shower, and sleep in a bed, and regroup. If Morgan had to sleep on the floor in front of the door with her rifle in her lap to make that happen, so be it.
"Yeah. Alright." It was against every instinct for survival she had. She knew that John wasn't far behind, if his boys had been that close. If they even were his boys. Maybe she'd fucked up the day of some totally innocent Brits on holiday.
It didn't matter. She'd just kill John if she saw him. Get it over with. No more fucking around. She couldn’t run forever. Kitty certainly couldn’t. It hadn’t even been a week, and Kitty was already nervous and stressed, on the verge of tears since their run in with the boys at the gas station. Morgan had been living like this periodically even before John.
She got the information for the motel, and about the two women who had rented the plane (two American women, which was a relief. Nothing to do with John, just an unfortunate coincidence), and headed back to the truck. Kitty was crying, and trying valiantly to pretend she wasn’t.
Morgan slid into her seat with a sigh. “Do you want to go home, Kit? I can take you back. I think that’s pretty much the only thing that would surprise him, at this point. I feel like he’s been a step ahead this whole time. Sent me running in a blind panic so he could set an ambush. I’m worried I’ve put you in more danger by asking you to come with me.”
Kitty shook her head furiously. “No! I want to stay with you. I don’t care if it’s dangerous.” She leaned across the middle seat and gripped the collar of Morgan’s jacket, pulling them together for a kiss.
Morgan tensed for a moment, surprise freezing her in place for a long moment. Suddenly, things made a lot more sense.
Kitty retreated quickly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. We can just forget it, I won’t do it again, I—” She halted mid sentence when Morgan reached out and brushed away the tears welling in her eyes again.
“Don’t be sorry. C’mere.” She gently held Kitty’s face and pressed a tentative kiss to her lips in return, tasting salt, humming when Kitty responded enthusiastically, lips parted and hands braced against Morgan’s thigh so she could leverage herself closer. For a minute, Morgan let herself forget that they were parked out in the open, that John was bound to catch up with them sooner rather than later, that they were far from safe, and that it was far from wise. She wanted to lose herself in that moment.
But good sense wouldn’t let her stay there for too long. “Come on. Lets go get something proper to eat. We’re stuck here till the morning. We’ll just have to keep an eye out.”
Morgan drove well out of the way to find a diner to eat dinner at, and watched the door the whole time, barely tasting her food. Kitty, at least, looked a little more settled with a proper meal in her, relaxing slightly even while Morgan twitched at every new patron coming through the door.
"What was he like when he wasn't— I mean— Was it all bad?"
Kitty's question surprised Morgan out of her vigilance, splitting her focus down the middle. It took a moment to figure out a response to that. “I sucked at following his rules. Fought him on everything. So I spent a lot more time getting punished than I did anything else.” She picked up a cold fry off her plate and dipped it in ketchup. “He wanted me to like him. I’m sure he could have been worse.”
Kitty nodded slowly. "What was he like when you did follow the rules?"
"A creep. Making me wear short little dresses without panties while I did housework, if he let me wear clothes at all. Letting me sleep in bed so he could feel me up. Asking if I was done being stubborn or if I was ready to ask for his cock. Fucking pervert." She tossed the fry into her mouth. "It was some kind of fucking game to him. He wanted me to beg for it."
"Oh," Kitty said in a small voice.
"I'm trying to spare you the details, Kit. He's got some ugly fucking demons in him, and it'll be better if we get far away."
"Y-yeah. Of course."
"You sure you don't want me turning the truck around? Could get you back home before—"
"No!" Kitty said quickly. "I'll stay. Just— um. Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I did. He had connections. They fucking delivered me back to him." She slumped back into her seat. “Let’s get out of here. Not safe to stay in one place too long. We’re risking enough with a motel stay.”
Not that she had any intention of staying at the one that Tim had suggested. It was just a red herring, something to hopefully draw attention if Tim was compromised while she found somewhere to stay an hour or two’s drive away.
She finally decided on one as the sun started setting, pulling into a half empty gravel lot. The place was dated, but that was fine. It didn’t need to be perfect. Just needed a door that locked and a bed with clean sheets.
The front desk was run by a bored looking girl in her late teens. She snapped her gum while she booked Morgan in on the ancient computer. She didn’t ask any questions, and she let Morgan pay cash, which was all she cared about.
She checked the room, paranoia winning over the more rational thought that she hadn’t known where they were staying until they got there, so John couldn’t have possibly set a trap for her, and Kitty hopped into the shower while Morgan flipped on the tv and scanned through channels listlessly.
— For a limited time only—
*— A community in chaos to— *
— Refreshing—
Wait. She flicked back to the news channel. A woman with a microphone standing in front of the smoking remains of a building, the unscathed sign at the edge of the parking lot reading Rosemary’s Diner. Red and blue flashing lights haloed her blonde hair, firefighters and police securing the area against the gathering crowd. “Crews are still recovering bodies from the ashes of this beloved local establishment. It is unclear what happened, or why none of the patrons were able to escape before the fire engulfed the building, but—”
Morgan’s head went fuzzy, her ears ringing as the noise from the tv scrambled as her brain tried to make sense of it. No on could escape because they were already dead. She’d killed them by walking into the place. This was her fault.
“Um, Morgan,” Kitty called from the bathroom. “There’s no towels.”
Morgan grimaced. She didn’t want them to separate for an instant. “I’ll go to the front desk and get some. Keep that door locked.”
The night time air was quiet and cool. She locked the door behind her— The place was so old that it had keys rather than cards. She wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a liability. She was too rattled to think it over.
This shouldn’t have shaken her so much. She knew who John was. She knew how dangerous, how depraved he was. It just felt so… Unnecessary. Maybe it was just a message to her. That everywhere she went she’d endanger innocent people.
Morgan pushed the door open and walked into the front office of the motel, blinking in the bright fluorescent lights, frowning at the lack of sound. Hadn’t there been a bell over the door? The bored looking teen who had been there earlier was nowhere to be seen, and the scent of blood in the air hit her as she breathed in, thick, coppery, cloying. There was the bell, lying on the floor next to an expanding pool of red trickling out from behind the desk. This had just happened. Which meant--
"Hi, bonnie."
Morgan whirled around to face Soap, grimacing. He was the only one of John’s boys she'd met before, and she wished she hadn't. He’d been babysitting her when she’d escaped. He’d be eager to hand her back over to John and gain forgiveness for losing her in the first place. He wiped the bloody blade of his knife off on his shirt, blue eyes fixed on her, teeth bared in a feral sort of grin.
She grabbed the computer monitor off the desk and threw it at him, grabbing out a gun. Someone behind her grabbed her hand and yanked her hand up, sending her shot wild, shattering the window rather than blowing through Soap’s head like she intended. She yelped when another hand grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head backwards.
“Hey there, sugar.” That was one of the men from the mountain town gas station, the baseball hat one, if the sliver of blue in the upper periphery was any indication. Gaz, probably. He didn’t feel like a Ghost. “Why don’t you drop that gun?”
Morgan grabbed for her other gun, only just clearing the holster by the time Soap was on her, pinning her arm to her chest and leaning close, so that she was pressed tightly between their bodies.
Soap traced his thumb down her throat, fingers curled around her neck like he was dreaming of throttling the life out of her. He probably was. “No’ verrah sportin’ of ye, Morgan. Bringin’ guns to a knife fight.”
“You brought a friend, seems fair to me.”
“Ye would. Tricky little thing. Dinnae ken what Price sees in ye.”
“No?” Gaz pried the gun out of her hand and stowed it somewhere, his now freed hand coming around to cup her breast, lips trailing over her ear. “I can see a few things that he’d like.”
“Weel. There is tha’.”
Morgan kneed him hard, nailing him right above the knee. The angle wasn’t good for generating as much power as she would have liked, but it was effective enough.
He swore and yanked the other gun out of her hand, jamming it up under her chin. “Should jest kill ye now,” he growled. “Yer nothin’ but trouble.”
“You’re just upset because I lied about wanting to play with you,” she taunted. He’d let her out of the cage in the cellar, and wound up locked in there himself. “How long were you stuck in there, Soap? Did John let you out when he got home, or did he leave you in there a little longer to make sure puppy learned his lesson?”
“Mouthy for a brat with a gun to her head,” Gaz said, yanking on her hair again. “Should be beggin’ for forgiveness.”
“Pull the fucking trigger, you coward,” Morgan spat. “I’m not going to beg for my life. Just fucking kill me. Should be easy. You killed all those people at the diner.” She carefully reached for the knife on Soap’s belt, doing her best not to move too much. So long as they were paying more attention to her mouth, she could get it. “Fucking losers, picking off a bunch of seniors. You lose your nerve when you’ve got a fair fight on your hands? Can’t even take me without backup, huh Soap?”
His hold on her other wrist tightened, enough to make her bones creak. She tried not to grimace, but he saw the wince in her eyes, satisfaction flitting through his baby-blues. “Price said one piece, but he didna say I couldnae break a few fingers.”
“Soap,” Gaz said warningly. “Come on. Let’s just get her out of here.”
Soap lowered the gun. Morgan ripped the knife off his belt and stabbed it into Gaz’s leg, gripping tight so she wouldn’t lose it when he jerked back, letting go of her hair in surprise.
“Shit, get back here you little—” Gaz tried to grab her again, so she turned and slashed at him, cutting a thin slice through his shirt.
Soap grabbed her from behind, so she let him take her weight as she kicked Gaz hard in the gut, knocking all the air out of him. Morgan smashed her head back into Soap’s face as she lowered her legs, only stumbling a little when he let go to cradle his nose, blood pouring from between his fingers. She grabbed his shoulders and kneed him hard in the groin for good measure, shoving him to the ground.
She ran outside. The air reeked of gasoline, the signature cover for their sins. They'd burn the place down on the way out. She ran back to the room. The door was open, hanging off it's hinges, the darkness beyond yawning like an open mouth.
"Kitty?" she called out, stepping inside. She already knew she wouldn't be there. Or if she was…
Only silence. Kitty's bag was gone off the bed, but hers was still there. She grabbed it, nearly sobbing when she found it open, her rifle gone. No guns, no Kitty, just her and a couple of flimsy knives against John and his dogs.
"Lookin' for this, honey?" John melted out of the shadows by the door. It should have been impossible for a man as big as him to be so quiet, so invisible. He held her rifle loosely in his big hands, not even bothering to point it at her. He was entirely at ease, shoulders relaxed, head tipped slightly to the side as he looked at her, eyes glittering in the low light.
Morgan gripped her stolen knife tighter. "Where's Kitty?"
“Ghost has her. Put the knife down, sweetheart. Somethin’ happens to me, he’s gonna snap her pretty neck. Be easy too, little thing like her.” He took a step forward. “It’s time to come home. Nothing left for you out here.”
Morgan backed up a step. He was between her and the door. There were no other exits. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He had her cornered, defenceless, beaten again.
“Come on,” he said, holding out one hand, taking another slow step, like she was a wild animal he was trying to coax into domestication. That was probably how he saw her. “We don’t need to fight anymore, do we? I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” she asked, acid roiling in her belly. “You were there that whole time— Six months! You knew! Why didn’t you just— Why’d you let me think I’d gotten away?”
Another step. “I was going to come get you early on, but I overheard Kitty talkin’ to one of the other girls at the diner about you. How you’d helped her fix her car up, how sweet you were, how smart, how strong. Poor girl was half in love with you before you’d been there a month. And I thought to myself, maybe that’s what a wild thing like you needs. A good girl to show you how to behave.”
He’d let her get close to Kitty just so he could use the poor girl against her. She’d tried to keep Kitty away, but she just kept coming back. A nudge from a well meaning regular might have convinced Kitty to ignore Morgan’s prickles, and that string of car troubles… Easily engineered by someone who knew enough about engines to make it look like it wasn’t sabotage. She’d been so so stupid. Should have just collected what she needed and moved on when she first got to Montana.
John tossed the gun onto the bed to free up his other hand as he moved past it. Morgan wondered if she could get past him, grab the gun, kill him, but—
“You ready to go, boss?” Gaz asked, his shadow filling the doorway.
John turned, carelessly turning his back on Morgan for a moment. She could jam her knife into his neck, grab the gun before John hit the ground, shoot Gaz— But Soap and Ghost were still out there somewhere, and they could hurt Kitty. Without John holding Soap’s leash, the maniac would do a lot worse than just kill them too.
“We’ll be along in a moment. Take her things.” He nodded toward the bed, then chuckled as Gaz limped over. One of his pant legs was dark with blood, a strip of fabric tied around where she’d stabbed him to put some pressure on the wound. “She got you, huh?”
“Got Soap too. Broke his nose.”
John shook his head. “Told you not to underestimate her.”
Gaz shouldered the bag and picked up the rifle. “You’re the one with your back turned to her.”
“She knows better than to try it. Isn’t that right? You’re ready to be good, aren’t you?” He turned back toward Morgan, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “You can start by giving me the knife, princess.”
She stared at his open palm, extended trustingly toward her, like he knew she wouldn’t bite back now. She hated him. Wanted nothing more than sink the blade into his hand, into any soft bit of skin she could reach. She wanted to be free of him more than she wanted to continue breathing.
But they had Kitty.
It felt like driving the final nail into her own coffin, sealing her fate, but she she dropped the knife into his hand, shaking with rage. “I hate you,” she hissed, the scratchy whisper all she could force out from a locked up throat.
He tucked the knife into his belt and closed the remaining space between them, tipping her face up so she couldn’t avoid those piercing blue eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you know that’s not true. If you’ll just be good, we can be happy. You just have to stop fighting me, hm? For Kitty’s sake.”
“Just— Just let her go. Please. I’ll be good.”
“Of course you will.” He thumbed across her cheek, wiping away tears she was desperately trying not to shed. “But I’m keeping you both.” He kissed her forehead, moustache prickling against her skin, and released her.
Morgan stood where she was for a long moment, feet rooted to the faded, stained motel carpet, as John walked away. Usually, he’d cuff her and cart her off, growling admonishments all the way home.
He looked back from the doorway, realizing that she wasn’t following. And of course, he wanted her to come of her own accord, to bow her head and admit defeat and follow him like a dog. He wanted her to choose to be with him.
“Come on, pet. It’s time to go home.”
Haltingly, she willed her feet to move, and she followed him.
Image Credit - Dividers by @/CafeKitsune
If you liked this, check out these stories:
Slasher Handler by Dragonnarrative-writes
Siphon and Keeping House by Syoddeye
Gentle Chokeholds by CharlieMWrites
Nobody by 391780
Please mind the warnings on each of the fics above, the warnings and intensities do vary a lot!
Thanks for Reading!
#Cave Writing#Dogs Will Hunt#Honey It's Alright#Part 1#Slasher AU#Kind of? Probably. They might have some other stuff going on#x OC#John Price x OC#Anyway uhhhh#Dark fic#non con#dark content#It's probably going to get a lot worse in part 2 but it was getting long and I thought it would be good to split it#Also I wanted to post before I lost my nerve#also sorry it's mostly just my little guys in the first half I feel silly about it now :/#but I like them
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New short story: Shades of Silver Lining
A/N: This work is marked as part of a series, BUT you don't have to read anything before this short story. I do cover and explain all essential points from the first part (unrevealed now, requires editing).
Summary: January, sixth year. Amberlyn just wants life to feel normal for once. But at sixteen, wielding Ancient Magic she struggles to control, constantly needing to prove she isn’t a threat to magical society, and navigating her first crush-turned-(secret)relationship, normality is rather challenging to come by.
Ominis is determined to make it through his remaining years at Hogwarts, the only path to freeing himself from the dark shadow of his family’s legacy—a legacy that keeps haunting him and that now threatens those he holds dear.
Meanwhile, the Auror, investigating a case involving that mysterious and extremely dangerous girl, decides that keeping her friend, Sebastian Sallow—who's already missed half a year of school—close at hand might be more useful than anyone expects.
tags: Post Canon, Adventure & Romance, Slow Romance, First Love, Teen Romance, Teen Angst, Eventual Fluff, Protective Ominis Gaunt, Good Friend Sebastian Sallow, Mental Health Issues, traumatized teens, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Room of Requirement, Legends and Myths, Magic theories, First weeks dating, Gaunt Family - Freeform, Unreliable narrator, POV multiple, Sebastian and Anne are not at school, a bit of mystery, a bit of thriller
(teaser) Ch. 0: Déjà vu - or is it? ⬇️
Ch.1 ->
word count: 456
wattpad, ao3
Alyn lost the sensation of magic pushing back, into which she had channelled her few remaining reserves of strength. Caught off guard by the sudden ease, she instinctively stepped forward but couldn't keep her balance and collapsed to her knees. The sand dug unpleasantly under her nails—today, of all days, she was wearing fingerless gloves.
The orb of bright light began to fade, slowly plunging the cave into darkness. Alyn’s eyes stung from the grains of sand stirred up by recent relentless casting. The first thing she noticed was the man, who, just moments ago, had been screaming with all his might. He had collapsed too. Was he... dead?
What had just happened?
She didn’t rush to get up and didn’t want to be the first to approach this man. She could see Sebastian from the corner of her eye as the light dimmed further. He stood frozen a few steps to her right. His left hand was extended towards Alyn as if attempting to protect her from a distance. His wide-open eyes were locked on the man on the ground, lying in a grotesquely unnatural posture. Alyn could hear Sallow’s heavy breathing echoing off the stone walls, much like her ragged gasps pounded inside her head along with her frantic heartbeat.
A rustle behind her caught Alyn’s attention, and she quickly turned her head, lingering panic making her desperate to locate the source of this noise. Ominis, still kneeling, was running his slightly trembling hands over the sand, searching for his wand. This time, Alyn’s heart ached not for herself but for him—his movements were growing more erratic as his wand seemed nowhere to be found.
With each agonisingly long second that passed, Alyn became more aware of how the sight of the body—was he really dead?—made her stomach clench. Sweat on her forehead, once burning hot, cooled unpleasantly on her skin as nausea threatened to overtake her.
It was harder to see through the encroaching darkness.
When did all this start going so terribly wrong? Was it two months ago, when that terrifying incident at dawn occurred, when this all started? Or perhaps, had it all begun last year, when she first discovered her magic, and this nightmare would only grow worse, following her for the rest of her life. How much longer could she even live if such things kept happening around her? The scene now felt as an eerie echo of one of her worst memories, as if it had returned to force her to relive it all over again.
But no, there definitely weren't any green flashes. What on earth?..
The orb of faint light vanished into thin air, finally casting everything around into utter, impenetrable darkness.
tag list: @theladyofshalott1989 , @crvcioking , @savingsallow , @gyattoru thank you for your huge support you fuel me so much, @ravenwind-75 whenever you're ready np 🫶
let me know if you don't want to be tagged or if you are not tagged and want to be as well - tell me🫶
#snowcactus SSL#done with drafts and almost all chapters so i can start posting yay#ok bye i'll go hide in cave because i'm still terified to post fics#also english is my third language so i might be looking for beta for next chapters#bear with me for now pls#hogwarts legacy mc#my writings#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#ominis gaunt x f!mc fanfiction#ominis gaunt x mc fanfiction
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More Pink Bunny AU
It’s finally bath time for Bunny!!
@thatonecrazysidekick and @tiredgaytheatrekid Bunny is finally clean and floofy!! (And smelling very nice!)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ .
Holding Bunny under one arm, Hyrule slathered soap over his hands, then passed the bar back to Wild. Then, he began to scrub at Bunny’s fur. To his credit, the rabbit remained mostly still over his arm, his hind legs occasionally kicking in the water. The soap suds quickly turned brown with mud, and once every inch of Bunny was brown and sudsy and smelling of lavender and swamp, he dipped the rabbit in the water again, washing away the suds. He ran his fingers through Bunny’s fur, easing out clumps of mud and blood, watching as they trailed downstream.
Hyrule frowned as he worked, clearing the soap from Bunny’s head. He applied another layer of soap to the cleaner fur, taking care to scrub right down to the skin, to gently massage it into his ears, but the second wash did nothing to clear the colour.
Bunny’s fur was bright pink.
“I’ve never seen a rabbit with pink fur,” Wild commented, reaching out to pet Bunny’s head, flinching back when Bunny snapped at him. “No touching, got it!”
“We thought all this was blood, buddy,” Hyrule commented, scratching lightly at Bunny’s head, smiling when he leaned into the touch. Bunny let him pet him, and Hyrule felt special for it. “I’m glad it isn’t. You’ve a lovely coat on you.”
Bunny lifted his head and preened at the compliment, to Hyrule’s amusement.
With Bunny clean and beginning to shiver, Hyrule was quick to call Twilight over to the nearest rock and pass the rabbit off to the only other Link he was comfortable with. Twilight was ready with a little fluffy towel and scooped Bunny up into it. As Twilight began to dry Bunny, scrubbing away at clean damp fur, Hyrule rested his arms over the sun-warmed stone, setting his head over them and watching contentedly.
“Pink’s an interestin’ colour,” Twilight commented as he ran the corner of the towel over the space between Bunny’s ears. “I was worried his fur was stained with…”
“Me too,” Hyrule said. “I’ve never seen a rabbit with pink fur.”
“Could be an era-specific thing,” Twilight said with a shrug. “I’ve learnt not to question it.”
Hyrule chuckled, watching fondly as Twilight began to carefully dry Bunny’s ears, one at a time, pressing the towel over them. Bunny’s eyes began to droop, exhausted and relaxed. Twilight finished up with one last run of the towel over Bunny’s back. As he removed the towel, Hyrule couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him when he saw Bunny’s fur. With Twilight’s firm drying, his fur had fluffed up so he looked twice his usual size.
“Awww,” he couldn’t help but comment. “Bunny, you’re all floofy.” He reached out for the rabbit, but Twilight slapped his hand away.
“Absolutely not. Yer all wet and dirty still. Now finish up with yer own bath—ya reek.”
Hyrule stuck his tongue out at Twilight, but acquiesced, sinking back into the cool water. He watched fondly as Twilight scooped Bunny up into his arms, Bunny easily settling his head over Twilight’s shoulders, his front paws beneath his chin. He watched Bunny’s cute little face as it drifted away from him, back over to the fire. And then Wild pounced on him, dragging him underwater and tearing him out of his fond reverie.
“Champion!”
#I caved and Bunny is now a lop-eared bun#the mental image was too cute#this was soooo lovely and comforting to write#Hyrule and Twi are both absolutely attached to Bunny#they would kill anyone for him#and you know I have to make him all floofy and eepy#most animals might get zoomies after a bath but Bunny is very drained in general#the past day has been a lot for him and it’s all catching up to him#can you believe he’s only been with the Chain for less than 24 hours?#(so far!)#he’s about to bite a certain someone in the next chapter though#he’s choosing violence again#he may be tired and depressed but he will bite#anyway everyone take this and enjoy!#I will get back to work on the next chapter + writing requests now!#actually I’m making gingerbread cookies but after that#lu pink bunny au#Bunny#Hyrule#Twilight#Wild#lu#loz#linked universe#lu fic#linked universe fanfic#faye writes#this is technically a very belated#WIP Saturday
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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
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PLS DON'T SEND ME TIT SPOILERS <3 ‼️‼️
genuinely the only tit spoiler i want is if d&p address philslion, and if they do, what they say about it. other than that I don't want any spoilers until after my show, so pls don't send me any asks regarding the show's content 🫶🏻
also, I will tag any spoilers I post. whether or not they address lion and whether or not it was dan, I'll post about it, so if you see a post from me tagged with spoilers on Wednesday, you won't know what I'm saying about philslion so the fact that I posted in and of itself won't be a spoiler <3 :)
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life candle headcanons
for obey march, day eight: candles
the flame's color depends on the species of the soul the candle represents. angels' candles burn white, humans' have their signature orange/red, and demons' flames are black. but for all three, the color of smoke is grey
all candles are one-of-a-kind works of art. some are the standard tall candle, some have shaped wax, some are carved, etc. intricate details are etched into the wax, often of symbols, patterns, and even scenes connected to the life of the candle's person.
loved one's candles will often be grouped together, sometimes even touching. the reapers have noticed that when candles are in these groups, they melt slower than the ones who are alone.
they're scented, the smell being significant to the person in some way, like a specific food or location. the scents are very faint, up until the wax has melted and the flame has gone out - then the smoke rises, and the smell fills the air before filtering away, like the person saying their final goodbye.
#its the 10th lmao#had these thoughts since i played the reaper's cave arc#might as well put them out now#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me worldbuilding#hcs#from me#obey march
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some more ideas for the totk rewritten project (botw2);
underground general ideas i thought about what to theme the underground after, and since its vaguely like underwater in canon i thought id push it much much further, you cant actually dive and while id love that i do want to stay within a certain possible range of it still being a sequel to botw and somewhat based on totk- so im putting the low gravity effect away from the sky and instead in the underground, the ENTIRE underground, that way it is distinctly different in the way you have to play since you gotta work around the low gravity effect, the entire plant life and enemies will also be based on deep sea creatures- anglerfish like ones that half burrow and lure you with their light, those fish (or are they worms?) that hide underground as soon as you step too close, maybe they hide initially but only to make you go closer and try and snatch at you
much more glowy things too, basically everythings got some sort of light on it, there are different creatures flying around that all feature some sort of glow, so there is stuff to see but you cant immediately know what it is, theres a unique kind of plant that when you bother it spews out a dark cloud of spores (kinda like in tp) that dims any light you had; there are some landmarks you can activate or repair with the help of zelda but there is no way to illuminate the entire map and the lil light ferns expire slowly too
i also want it to be way more wet, not full with water but maybe a thin layer of water at most places and some drops from stalactites that fall constantly
there are shadowy ghosts there as well but they CAN aggro (still working on it), either by taking a weapon from their grave or some other things; also considered them or some other enemy that stalks you for some time and the only clue you get is maybe double sound of your steps or something at the very edge of your screen but you can never catch it when looking around (i dont want to make it a horror game but do want the underground to stay as creepy as when you first get down there), something elusive and shadow based that is rarely encountered but stays creepy for longer than the miasma hands sicne it cant get stuck on anything and the only way to be safe is while in the air
maybe some miasma reanimated corpses of ancient shiekah killed when the ancient hyrulean king turned on them (only foudn in the underground in this way; there are others but unposessed in alot of the broken shrines and old laboratories so seeing one suddendly move and crawl after you is probably pretty scary, kinda like the vroken guardians sometimes being still functional)
the dongos are the main friendly animal you can discover there and tame (still working out more details) they can climb around, always emit a little bit of light and the shadow enemy wont latch onto you as long as you are near a dongo, maybe even most enemies will leave you alone if you are riding one, as they are slower than horses, with the exception of gigamas (or a similar enemy ill redesign for that) as they are the natural predator of dongos; when you get to close to one it will react to it and if a fight is initiated it burrows away (you can call it and it comes back to you if you are out of range of that enemy)
tameable animals since i played skyward sword recently i just realized again how much fun it is to fly on a bird, sicne im already dividing the three map layers a bit more i thought it would be cool to make these layers more distinct, in some part by the tameable animals- the sky has birds (based on dinosaurs), the surface has horses, the underground dongos- neither of them can follow you to one they dont belong and the way to call them switches as you switch layers
im not sure yet if those birds should be ridable or are only able to give you a small boost upwards when you call them
magic bar so instead of actual batteries i planned to, as i said before, to put that into links shiekah arm prosthetic, and instead of giving you literal battery symbols on the screen it would be a bar right below your health and next to the symbol of the current selected arm ability
krog seeds a bit more to the krogs- as i said before they are no longer the way to make your pockets bigger- among an armor set i also thought about making the most expensive reward OR the end reward for finding all of them be the eponator zero- maybe it went missing during the cataclysm and maronus (engl. hestu) finds it at some point, so you get your bike back but its locked behind something bigger so you are unlikely to exploit it early on
(EDIT) (forgot to mention the dragons- im putting them each in one layer of the map- eldra in the underground bc gan is there and youknow, demise coming from the ground and fire being associated with the ground etc, farodra on the surface GREEN etc, and naydra in the sky, bc wisdom and owls and gods and all that weeeeee)
(on a sidenote im also thinking about ditching the building mechanic to some extent since i dont think it fits very well as a whole and it makes it too easy to completely skip stuff- i want the main way to move things or to get around be the hookshot/grappling hook part of links arm; still working on all that though .. so far it does seem likely like it will be much more limited)
#ganondoodles talks#zelda#totk#ganondoodles rewrites totk#also since alot of the shrines are now more like bigger caves and less in number i thought about making a broken tower into a mini boss#like a mass of miasma spilling from a hole in the ground like the big one in the gerudo area that wields the tower as a weapon#some of the bigger regional changes i wanted to mix it up alot more without redoing the entire map#so gerudo dessert might be flooded#the zora are dealing with all the water in the region having gone through a crack in the earth leading their area to dry up#rito area isnt just snowed in but in an actual blizzard that coated everything in a thick layer of ice#YES ICE PHYSICS WOOHOO#and made them flee maybe into vah medoh whos unfunctional and resting somewhere else#maybe isntead of floating hyrule castle is sunk into the ground .. tho im not so sure on that yet#.... listen theres so much stuff you could do with world to have it have actual changes#what if satoris mountain was half broken and sunk into the ground but the mountain is still there at night like a spiritual footprint#you know#make it actually feel like a big order destroying event has happened!!!
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Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop
To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.
The short answer:
Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!
The long answer:
I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.
Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.
Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.
Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.
What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.
So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!
#I wish there were a cleaner answer to this kind of thing#and I also wish that there were a way to answer that didnt feel like 'just do it lol'#but... genuinely you kind of just have to do it!#I find it helps to reframe writing as trying to figure out which ideas I don't like#then if I write anything that feels bad to me#it's not about being a bad writer or anything like that. it's just something I dont want in my story and I delete it.#like if you find yourself naturally coming up with worldbuilding elements. its okay to just start there!#you can start like 'I really want giant mushrooms' and then start thinking about how cool that would be#and like oooh what if there were really cool caves full of mushrooms and all glowy yeaaah#then you start building people from that. colonies of fungal people or something. this is still worldbuilding#then you might think now. whats a plot that could go with this and show off my cool mushrooms.#maybe the mushrooms are all connected and the main one is dying and no one knows why. it's a classic plot.#if you still dont feel like you can find a character in that. keep going! why is it dying? how can it be saved? can it? if not then why?#etc etc etc. when I am writing I actually ltierally write out 101 questions like this as I'm going and then I answer them#and if I cant answer them. then I figure out a different situation that doesnt bring that question up LMFAO#eventually you can decide you want a hero who idfk will replace the big mushroom or something. a sacrifice and immortality simultaneously#then you can be like yeah so my themes are probably about sacrifice. connection to others. love for your community. stuff like that#and then you can go back to your world and say. yeah I think that people should have telepathic communication on some level!#I'm just making all this up right now but I just want to illustrate somehow how this kind of cyclical process can actually be a tool#because it's not about getting it all right at once. its about leaning into the cycle and how it guides you through developing these#anyways idk if this makes any sense. if this doesnt feel like it works for you then it probably literally doesnt#but writing more and analyzing writing more is ALWAYS good#it will never make your writing worse to do those things.#unfortunately (said with all the love in the world) writing is an endless process of learning more about who you are and what you care abou#its wonderful but it's hard and theres no way to skip that process#good luck!#asks#anon#writing stuff#oh also if at any point you go hm. that big thing isnt working for me I think...
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Guess who’s hooked up to a 24 hour heart monitor!
#doc said there’s no structural issues and it might have to do w the electrics#tony stark core#someone get me an arc reactor#genius billionaire playboy philanthropist in training#now I just need to be kidnapped and put in a cave w some scraps#Ironman suit coming soon#might adopt a kid from queens#saw some spiders on YouTube lately
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making a purchase over $20 is so stressful…. i gotta consult my court eunuchs if i should get a furry tail plug or not
#been weighing the pros & cons in my head for days now….#i think i might cave and buy it cuz it’s my fucking brothday soon#and i j got payedddd#凸^-^凸#hrm hrm hrm hm hmmmmm#hands clasped behind my back and walking in circles over this pursche decision
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silly devouring his salad
my twitter mutual drew a BUTCHER VANITY Rock and caused me to irreparably have a cannibalistic rock living in my head, this is but one escaped consequence of that
#this is a parody of a parody of a parody#so a beloved twitter mutual drew a parody of BUTCHER VANITY with rock and it altered my brain chemistry#there’s a part in the music video for that song where she does the saturn devouring his son pose#anyway the idea of this image has cursed me for the past several days and i can’t use my tablet right now so i tried to do my best in ibis#the red is#it’s just tomatoes from his salad#it’s funnier to imagine that his table manners are that bad#though the question of whether tsurutan/tartan/vinnie has blood has also been on my mind#who knows the sexy daikon crop might also bleed#my art#bokumono#harvest moon#rock tumbling (sos)#harvest moon a wonderful life#hm awl#hm anwl#harvest moon another wonderful life#rock (awl)#harvest moon rock#rock awl#hm rock#many fucked up evil rocks lately i’m very happy about this#i know he’s a harmless little guy… but a villainous rock is just very funny to me. let him cook#my test viewer that i showed this to after crawling out of my cave says it’s‘cursed’ … sorry guys……….
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the overwhelming urge to post my secret santa gift right now but i already posted fic today and i want to space things out a little
#my plan was to post on sunday then i was like okay lets do saturday now i might cave early on friday.#or tomorrow. who knows im so bad at keeping things to myself once theyre done like ill type the last dot and be like okay now here look!!!!
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Almost done with the images for the Etsy page of the MotoGP journal.
#journals lb#and I'm quite enjoying how this looks#I just want to mock fill two pages for the first page#(I think)#the next “issue” is going to be “be patient & wait for january before actually posting about this”#or like “wait for my blog to be back to touch a wider audience”#in addition to I think people being busy right now with holidays and buying a motorsports journal is the last thing they want to do after#spending money on christmas gifts#I don't really know I might just cave and show everyone the second everything is ready
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