#it just. appeared in my brain out of nowhere like what was the reason

[danvillecheese]

day ruined i just remembered the pine tree scene at the end of owca files </3

[girlivealwaysbean]

man i hate having dreams i feel more stressed and tired than i did before going to bed

[yourheart-inmyhands]

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best. 

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

[bruisedboys]

Shy!reader who's brain is running a million miles per hour and Sirius who notices and decides to pull her into a secret room for doting kisses and sweet compliments???

thank you for your request lovely! <333

sirius black x fem!reader

You don’t know how Sirius has managed to weasel you out of the thick of the party and into his friend’s bathroom, but here you are, alone with Sirius in Remus Lupin’s bathroom and trying not to act like this is exactly what you wanted.

“Sirius,” you say, breathless as you watch him close the door and then spin round to face you, grinning. “What are you doing?”

Sirius shrugs. “Just trying to get some alone time with my girl. Sue me.”

My girl. You try not to buckle at the knees. “Alone time? I thought you liked parties.”

“I only like whatever you like.”

You glare at him. He’s being awful on purpose. “Don’t you want to go hang out with your friends?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Sirius says, moving towards you. You know he’s gonna grab you before he does, hands hot at your hips as he pulls you towards him. “I was watching you out there, you know. You looked like you weren’t having a good time.”

“Did I?” You ask, horrified. “Sirius, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You push at his chest as if that’s gonna do anything. He’s much stronger than you. In more ways than one. “I don’t want Remus to think I’m a priss.”

Sirius laughs. “Dove,” he says, chiding and amused. “He doesn’t think that. The only reason I noticed is ‘cos I know you so well.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb as if to say, yeah, I know you, and I love you all the same. “You’d’ve looked completely lovely to everyone else.”

“Ugh,” you say, as if you’re grossed out by his fondness rather than totally enthralled. Your burning cheeks say otherwise.

“Ugh,” Sirius copies agreeably. “You’re okay, though? We can leave if you need, babe. I swear I don’t mind.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence. “No, I’m okay. We can stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you having an awful time.”

“I’m not,” you say honestly. You were overwhelmed earlier but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have handled it for Sirius’ sake. He’s handled a lot worse for your sake.

Sirius raises his eyebrows, looking incredibly handsome. “Promise?”

You smile at him. “Promise.”

Sirius smiles back, all pearly white teeth and dusty pink lips. You’re not surprised when he ducks in to kiss you. You let him because you like him a lot and you could really use a kiss right now. He’s right of course, you had been having a hard time out in the living room. You’d just been beginning to spiral when Sirius had appeared out of nowhere and whisked you away like he could read your mind. Now, he kisses you with all the care of someone who knows you like the back of his hand, and all the electricity of a boy in love.

He backs you up against the sink, hands firm at your hips, kissing and kissing, but pulls back just when you think he’s about to really get carried away. You’re grateful because you’d hate to be discovered like this by one of his friends and you think he knows that.

“I love you,” he says, ducking in for another quick kiss that’s brief but sweet enough to leave you reeling. “Promise you’ll let me know if you want to get out of here, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod, frazzled by his kissing and his sweetness.

Sirius smiles a dizzying smile and chucks you under the chin. “C’mon, lovely girl,” he takes your hand and tugs you towards the door. “Wanna help me win poker?”

He knows you’re no good at card games — he just wants you in his lap as his so-called lucky charm. Lucky for him, you can’t think of anything else you’d rather do.

[l13]

bitter

dunno what brought this on but reader has good taste;P also let's pretend that lyla is team reader x miguel for plot reasons

word count: 2.3k

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, MDNI, f!reader, ex!miguel, aged up bf!hobie<3, miguel has some v descriptive sexual thoughts about you (p in v sex, f!receiving oral), swearing, jealousy, ANGSTTT

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.

Miguel often thinks about how he ended up giving in to his desires and starting a situationship with you, how he regrets it when he can tell how you've fallen for him. How your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, looking at him like he hung the moon. He regrets it because that's how he looks at you as well.

Why’d you have to ask him on that stupid date?

“That’d be unprofessional.” is what Miguel had said in reply. Because it was the truth. You were only fucking, nothing more.

You’d scoffed, “Oh come on, Miguel, we’re not office workers. Surely we can go out together?”

“What, fucking me ain’t enough for you?”

You'd huffed, your expression dull, shaking your head in disbelief, “No, actually, it isn’t. I genuinely like you, is that so bad?”

Miguel had ignored the flip his stomach did at your confession “You know why we can’t, now drop it.”

“No, I want you to tell me why.”

“It’s not in the canon” He cringes every time he remembers what he’d said, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was right. He was, but fuck, how he wanted to be wrong. He so desperately wanted it to be him that you were meant to fall in love with, him you were meant to build a life together.

“Fuck the canon.” had been your reply, before you turned to walk away and he'd made no move to follow you.

He'd failed to ignore Lyla when she'd whistled, “That was painful even for me,”

“Jesus- can you not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, can't interrupt your brooding time. I'm just saying. You prevented the woman of your dreams from falling in love with you, because she's meant to fall for someone else? But that's stupid- Your heart literally jumps when you see her-”

“Lyla I swear to God, if you don't stop talking-”

And now, as he stands in front of your house months later, waiting for you to answer the door, Miguel found himself to be annoyed. Annoyed that he hadn't gotten your mission report on time, and had to come and fetch it for himself.

Some sick, twisted part of his brain wanted you to have forgotten it on purpose, and ignored his calls in order for him to come over, maybe reconcile- fuck your brains out till you're begging him to take you back, even if it meant putting your feelings aside.

“She better be home,” Miguel hisses to himself, his hand massaging his temples, and he doesn't even flinch when Lyla shows up out of nowhere “Oh, she is. The thermal scan picks her up, see? Wait who’s-”

Miguel was thankful for the interruption, but what he saw when you opened the door was not at all what he expected, or was even prepared for.

You were practically naked, an oversized t-shirt covering your body, stopping just under your ass and- Jesus Christ were those thigh highs? Yes they were, pretty ones, too. They were sheer white tights, that ended just in the middle of your plush thighs, the material hugging your legs beautifully, the very top of them decorated with a lace material, giving them a sexy twist.

God, he'd get on his knees right here and now if you just asked-Miguel licked his lips and cleared his throat, quickly averting his gaze, praying that he doesn't appear flustered.

“Miguel! Are you okay? Is something wrong? Hey Lyla-” you seem out of breath as you talk, clearly not bothered by your lack of clothing in front of him. Lyla offers you a bright hello and wave, one you softly smile at.

No, he's not fucking okay.

“I'm great.” he hisses, but really he was trying to convince himself of it. You study him for a bit longer before humming, not believing him for a moment.

“I need the report from the mission that you were sent to do yesterday. The one you forgot to send me.” Miguel inhales sharply and stands taller, trying to hide the fact that your presence damages his brain functionality severely, by trying to look more intimidating.

Memories of last night flash in your mind suddenly, being pressed against your bookshelf, the furniture rattling loudly, books almost toppling to the floor, but you didn’t have the heart in you to care. Not when he was grinding up at you, hand under your thigh to keep you upright as you moaned against his mouth crossing your legs around his waist and bringing him closer, the sound of your watch beeping pulling you out of your trance, “Fuck, wait. T-the reports-”

He undid your watch expertly with one hand, and you gasped trying to snatch it from his grasp, but he held it up above your head, placing it on top of your bookshelf carelessly, before grabbing the top shelf to brace himself and grind himself harder against you, moaning under his breath, “Fuck ‘em.”

Your eyes widen comically, and you sputter, “Right! Shit- fuck. I'm sorry, umm, wait here.” and you slam the door right in his face. Miguel's eyebrow twitches.

There's shuffling from inside before Miguel realizes that you're talking to someone-

“Can you go in five minutes? Please?”

“Nah, ‘m afraid I need to go right now, love. Got things to do, places to be.”

“Can't you open up a portal here?”

“When there’s a perfectly usable front door? I don’ think so,” “C’mon pretty.. what are y’so afraid of?”

“He’s our boss.”

“He’s your ex. Now, if you’re ashamed to be seen with me, I get it-”

“No! Baby, no. I just don’t want to rub it in his face, don't want him to think that I am either,”

“But that’s so boring. Let’s make ‘im suffer, you’ll thank me later-”

“Hob-”

The door opens suddenly and Miguel could act surprised, could act like he’s been waiting for quite a while not knowing what’s going on inside, but he doesn’t. Not when he’s face to face with Hobie. Not when he obviously knows how good Miguel’s hearing is, how he could definitely hear every word that was spoken, not when you’d tried to be nice- tried to whisper and be subtle, not when Hobie blatantly did the opposite out of spite.

So he just stares ahead with a blank face, as Hobie leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest lazily. There’s a hickey on his neck and Miguel feels like he might throw up.

And somehow, Miguel still thinks that this is all some sick joke, a prank, a dream. Anything to explain what he's seeing. Because there’s no way you're dating Hobie. There’s no way you fucked Hobie fucking Brown- the single most annoying person in Miguel’s life (after peter, of course). And after what, only eight months after you stopped seeing him? That's how long it took for you to get over him? He can almost hear Lyla laughing in his head, 'You're just bitter that you're not over her yet'

Hobie smirks at him “Hello mate, long time no see.” Miguel at least has the human decency to offer him a curt nod, which Hobie apparently finds hilarious as he huffs out a laugh, “'S alright if I send my report later, right? I'm kind of exhausted right now, did a lot of runnin' yesterday, y'know,”

Lyla visibly winces and disappears a second later.

Running. Miguel needed breathing exercises and he needed them now-

Miguel's eyes snapped to yours. Were you just gonna let Hobie talk all that shit, without saying anything? (Knowing Hobie's life was in imminent danger?) Apparently so, because you just scoffed and rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. What a great couple you two made.

He refused to believe that this is who you chose, refused to acknowledge that his anger was pointed at himself and not you. He’d never, ever, admit it, not even at gunpoint, but Hobie was a good kid, he’d treat you right and that's what pissed him off the most.

“Fuck the canon.” Hobie would have laughed and nodded in agreement at your words, not Miguel though. Miguel had said nothing and it had cost him his future with you.

Sensing that Miguel wouldn’t reply anytime soon, Hobie just shrugged nonchalantly, “Thanks for understanding, boss.”

Miguel felt like he could hear his own veins pulsing. Boss, he'd called him boss. That little-

Turning to you, Hobie throws a hand around your waist and squeezes you against him, pressing a kiss on your cheek “I'll see you later love, don' forget to put some ice on that, yeah?” he lays a slap on your ass that makes you almost tumble forward, and Hobie's smirk widens when he sees Miguel ball his fists at his sides, nostrils flaring. Hobie throws a wink at Miguel before squeezing through him to walk out, seeing as Miguel didn't make any attempt to get out of the way.

Miguel doesn't turn to see him open up a portal to leave, he's too busy looking at the way the multi-colored lights illuminate your face, how you grin and wave shyly at your boyfriend.

“So sorry about him.. d'you wanna come in?” you ask, shifting from one leg to another once the portal disappears. Miguel just stares at you, eyes hooded, mouth pressed in a tight line.

“Ookay, I’ll just go get the- yeah” you trail off and turn to walk deeper into your apartment, and Miguel hates himself for craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your ass. And then hates himself even more when he thinks about how smug Hobie would be if he knew Miguel was checking out his girl. He'd say some dumb shit like "Wanting somethin' you can't have again, boss?"

Meanwhile, you're standing on your tippy-toes in front of your infamous bookshelf, arm outstretched, trying to grab your watch but to no use, cursing Hobie in your mind for putting it so high up. You had no idea that by trying to get your stupid watch, you were giving Miguel the perfect view of your backside, seeing as your shirt rode up each time you stretched out your arm.

No, fuck that. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Hobie was right. Let him suffer. He chose this, so now he can deal with the consequences.

Miguel wanted to give everything up right then and there. It's funny how quickly you could strip him of his morals, and he just wishes he could have done that before realizing he'd lost you forever. He could picture his future in his mind so clearly, if only he'd just said yes to your question.

“Will you go out with me?"

He’d resign, move out some place nice, next to a beach preferably. Spend his days laying on the sand and drinking piña coladas with no care in the world.

Except you’d be there. Straddling his lap to steal his drink, giggling and laughing when he tried to take it back from you. He’d grab your hips and with a swift motion you'd switch places, your back against the hot sand. The drink would spill from the movement, the liquid falling over your bikini covered tits, and you’d gasp oh-so prettily when he’d bend to lick it all up.

You’d moan even sweeter when he’d move lower, when he’d eat you out till you’re a crying, babbling mess, whining that you can’t take it anymore. Oh, but you could. You would take it, and he’d prove it when he’d later fuck you against the pool, and he’d make sure he fucked you good. Your mewls would be panted against his ear as he’d thrust into you relentlessly, your fingers digging into his wet back, and all he’d taste would be your pretty moans and the faint taste of rum against his tongue.

His cheeks would hurt from how hard he'd be grinning as he stared at you when you both would go for a walk by the beach later. He'd jog up to you, springing you in his arms, nuzzling his head against your hair- your distinctive smell fogging up his brain- your laughter mixing together, as you chased each other through the waves.

When you'd had enough, and stood panting, your -now wet- dress clinging to you like second skin, he'd drop to his knee, pulling out a ring from his pocket, one he was anxious not to drop when he was chasing you around, and you'd gape at him, tears already welling up in your eyes.

You would have said yes that night. In fact, the word would have been repeated against his shoulder as he fucked you later, rolling his hips into you slowly, kissing your pretty tears, holding you, loving you–

“Done! I just sent it–,” you could have sworn you and Miguel shivered at the same time when he blinked down at you, his mouth parted. His eyes were glistening all of a sudden, and it made your whole being fill with a sense of longing and dread.

“Lyla?” you swallowed harshly at Miguel's hoarse tone, gnawing at your lip as you avoided his gaze.

It was as if Lyla knew not to fuck with him either, because she didn't even make him beg for it, instead pulling up a hologram that showed the report, “Yup, got it!”

You cleared your throat, eager to get back into bed and forget the look on his face just now, suddenly feeling nostalgic for a memory you couldn't quite place- “I'm sorry that I forgot, it won’t happen again, promise.”

Yes it will.

“See you back at HQ?”

Miguel hums, not saying anything, not even caring to correct you, because he’d sooner see you in his dreams than at headquarters.

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[plant-pluto]

You Need Him? I Could Be Him!

Rodrick Heffley x Popular! Reader

I feel like I always write Reader liking Rodrick while he likes Heather, but like what if its the other way round. Aka your stereotypical friends help each other out by getting the other together with their respective love interest but you end up liking each other.

Wordcount: 3,411

Masterlist

tws: underage drinking mentioned

    Rodrick’s friendship with you was something uncanny to the residents of Plainview, seemingly blossoming out of nowhere you two appeared as thick as thieves with how you were now seen constantly with the resident “emo”. And it certainly threw Heather for a loop when she managed to spot you two chatting.     “ God babes, please don’t tell me you're going out with that loser.” She berated once she found out, and you remember the altercation as clear as day.     “ As if! Besides, he’s not terrible, he’s actually kinda nice.” You defended, trying to put in a good word as that’s the reason you started being “friends” in the first place.

    This symbiotic relationship all started when you witnessed yet another tragedy of Rodrick “flirting” with Heather (if you could even call it that) the interaction so awkward it felt like someone was ripping you apart with a knife. You felt bad for the guy! Heather having left him in the dust causing you to reach out, especially once you recognized how beneficial this could be.     You had a very very secret crush on Chris, Löded Diper’s bassist, and Rodrick was the only other person in the world you revealed that to. The plan was obvious, you helped him out with Heather because as you stated “Lord knows you need it”, and he helps you out with Chris. WIth Rodrick letting you in on their band practices, and you still trying to get Heather to stand being in the same proximity as him, you were around each other constantly. A friendship forming between the local “emo” and “Heather’s hot friend” turned a few heads, especially the heads of your peers.

    Honestly, you didn’t even know if the two of you were friends, you grew to like hanging out with him despite it beginning as a “you scratch my back, I scratch yours” kinda deal, and a part of you wondered if he felt the same.     “ Rodrick.” You called from your place on the boy’s bed, torso dangling off the side as you looked at him from your upside-down view.     He hummed, glancing up from his phone from his place on the floor.     “ Do you like me?” You pondered bluntly, the question of his feelings towards you nagging your brain.

    This certainly caught his attention, eyes widening as he looked back at you, phone now forgotten as he dropped it to the ground.

    “ Pshh what! Why would I-” Rodrick floundered, face red as he began to stutter.

    “ As a friend, dingus, relax.” You huffed in amusement, sitting up on his bed, and turning around to face him,” We’re gonna have to work on you getting flustered so easily because, wow!”

    “ I knew that!” He defended, posture relaxing as he cleared his throat,” I do…like you.”     You deadpanned at his hesitation,” It sounds like someone’s holding you at gunpoint.”     He shrugged, and you started to tease,” I get it, I get it, you’ll be done with me once you get with Heather and I’ll be left behind with no credit. I thought we were friends Rodrick, you wound me.”     “ We are friends!” He exclaimed quickly, and this caused you to smile.     “ Really!? Yayyy!” You exclaimed softly, getting off the bed and flopping down on the floor in front of him.     “ I thought that was obvious.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes, and picking his phone back up to check the time.     “ Just wanted to make sure.” You grinned, mind at ease now that you got the verbal confirmation.     Checking your own phone, you got up,” The guys should be here soon, let's go!” You ushered, dusting yourself off before making your way to Rodrick’s door.     “ Just in case you needed confirmation, I like you too Hot Rod.” You grinned, throwing him a smile over your shoulder, swinging his door open, not seeing the way he flushed and frowned.     Walking around his house like you belonged there (and to be completely honest, you did) you said your hellos to Susan before entering the garage. Taking your usual seat on the couch, Rodrick followed behind you shortly after, a sort of glum look on his face.     “ What’s wrong, you look like you’re thinking.” You asked genuinely, despite your teasing.     “ It’s fine, don't worry about it.” You frowned at his answer, but you brightened once you remembered something.     “ Okok, but I have some wonderful news for you! Heather’s throwing a party, her parents are out of town and she said I could bring you.” You cheered, faltering when you saw that he didn’t perk up at the mention of her name like he usually does.     You went to pry, but the side door swinging open caused you to shut your mouth, in walked Chris and Ben, but more importantly Chris.     “ Hey Chris!” You chirped, the blonde making his way over to you at your greeting.

    “ ‘Sup.” He stated, taking the guitar case off his shoulder and resting it on the arm of the couch.     “ The usual, how was your day?” You asked, not off put by his nonchalant attitude as conversation began to spark.     Immersed in the exchange, you failed to notice that everyone else finished setting up, that was until you heard the loud clash coming from Rodrick’s drum set, a slight glare on his face as he looked between the two of you. Both you and Chris exchanged a look with Ben who just shrugged.     “ Sorry man.” Chris mumbled, grabbing his bass from the case and going to plug it in.     You looked at Rodrick as he talked to Ben, seemingly okay now, causing you to furrow your brows.     Practice went as usual, but your ever growing worry caused you to look at Rodrick for its entirety despite how you normally took this time to watch Chris play. You cheered once they finished, gathering your things as you got ready for the usual tradition of visiting the local 7/11 as a wrap up.     Heading over to Rodrick, you nudged him slightly, hoping to get some kind of confirmation of his status. You smiled at him, and he gave a half-smile back.     “ Ready to go?” You questioned softly, wondering if he could tell just how concerned you were.     “ Uh, I actually…can’t go out.” He hesitated, and you felt the urge to pry as you asked why.     “ I’ve…I’m not feeling well.” The statement came out as more of a question, and you knew just how to tell when Rodrick was lying.

    Chris called your name before you could dwell on it though, casting Rodrick one last look before you walked back over.

    “ You comin’ with us?” He asked, already overhearing Rodrick’s lie.     “ Nah, I got homework.” The excuse flew from your lips before you could even register it, and that had left you confused.     A month ago you would have been overjoyed at the prospect of him asking you to hangout, hell, a few weeks ago you would’ve been ecstatic that you were going to hangout without Rodrick being there. But now, now it just felt off, leaving a pit in your stomach that not even Chris could fill.

    “ Alright, see you guys later!” Ben waved, the door slamming against the frame slightly as Chris and Ben made their exit.     You twirled around, brows furrowed looking at your friend, questions at the tip of your tongue now that you had the space to ask them.     “ What’s wrong?” You got straight to the point, not bothering to tease as you had enough of him brushing you off.     “ What do you mean, I’m fine.” Rodrick stressed, and this only caused you to grow irritated.     “ Seriously Rodrick, I’m just worried, you didn’t even get excited when I said you could go to Heather’s party.” You combatted, not letting up as you pressed.     “ Just tired.” He paused looking around the room, seeming to pick up on the fact that that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you.

    “ You should help me prep for the party though.” He stated, already going back into the house, and you couldn’t help but feel relieved as you followed behind him.     “ What, don’t tell me you’ve never been to one.” You teased, mind clear as you both seemed to slip back into your normal pace.     He remained silent, and you smirked, practically running up after him on the stairs as he seemed to try and escape you.     “ Rodrick Heffley! Have you seriously never been to a party before?” You exclaimed, slightly shocked at that fact.     He turned to face you as he swung open his door, the sheepish shake of his head causing your grin to widen. 

   “Oh we have a lot of work to do, show me your best dance!” You flopped onto the bed, watching in amusement as he shot you a funny look.     “ What!? You have to know how to dance, what if Heather wants to dance?” You urged, but you shot to your feet once you had the realization.     “ Oh god what if Heather wants to dance, quick Rodrick gimme your hands!” You rushed, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips as you turned your back towards him.     “What’re you!?” He made a strangled noise, and if you were to turn around, you would’ve seen Rodrick’s face turn the brightest shade it has since this whole ordeal started.

    It was moments before the party, and Rodrick couldn’t do anything but stare at his wall, apparently you had pulled a few strings to get Chris an invite, and he hated the feelings that stirred up within him.     Rodrick Heffley falling for you was not part of the plan he had in mind, and he knew that wasn’t part of your plan either.     He was almost tempted to tell you he couldn’t go, but he didn’t want to make you worry. The chime from his phone alerted him to you being done getting ready, and he got ready to drive on over to your house. Taking one last look in the mirror he frowned slightly at the lack of guyliner, but he remembered how you said Heather didn’t really like stuff like that. Not that it mattered to him now, he knew that you liked it, having said so yourself, but he decided to look the part.     The cold was biting as he made his way into his van, unfortunately he had to pick up Chris first before he could see you, and despite the fact he was his friend, he couldn’t help but get irritated with him now-a-days. Peeling out of the driveway, he reluctantly made his way over to Chris’, and once he was collected, he finally made his way over to you.

    Parking in your driveway as he usually did, he let you know he was there before exiting. You had all decided to walk over to Heather's since it was just at the end of the block, and your parents would kill all of you if they found out you drove under the influence.     “ Hey guys!” You chirped, closing the door behind you as you made your way down the steps.     Rodrick took a second to secretly admire, trying not to visibly wither as you made your way over to Chris first.     Waiting for you to say hi to him, he smiled and started to walk with you and Chris in tow, he looked up at the stars as he listened to you two conversate, silently brooding as he hoped to get the chance to talk to you before the party.     “ Rodrick!” You called, and it was like you had some kind of sixth sense for when he was getting moody, it was something he grew to appreciate.     He hummed, beginning to walk backwards as he waited for you to continue.     “ I was asking if you were gonna drink tonight.” You tilted your head unintentionally, and it caused Rodrick to bite the inside of his cheek.     “ Maybe.” He responded, dragging out the ‘e’ as he genuinely didn’t know, but depending on how the night went, he might wind up having a beer or two.

    Finally reaching Heather’s house, you could hear it before you even entered, the blaring music muffled through the walls, and he watched in curiosity as you ushered Chris inside. He stiffened as you turned to him, melting once you nudged him with your shoulder and smiled.     “ You ready Rockstar?” Whenever you called him that it really made him feel like he was one, butterflies erupting in stomach akin to cheers from a crowd, and your gaze making him feel like he was in the limelight.     “ Ready as I’ll ever be.” He grinned back, flashing his teeth despite the ever growing feeling of worry in his stomach.     The music managed to be even louder once you opened the door, the air was thick and humid, the intermingling smell of various substances assaulting his nose.     “ Let’s go say hi to Heather!” You had urged, and he found your commitment to the hopeless case of him and Heather endearing.     Walking over to the blonde, neither of you missed how she cast Rodrick a small glare,” Hey babes! …Hey Rodrick.”     God it was so much easier for him to see how little of a chance he had when he no longer wanted it.     Walking away to let you chat with Heather, and ignoring the confused glance you gave him, he made his way over to Chris. Chris was already making eyes at some girl, and this made him scowl.     “ Whatcha up to Chris?” He asked, trying to keep it casual, and still trying his best for Chris and you even though he no longer wanted you two to be a thing.     “ Nothing honestly, just observing.” He spoke cooly, and Rodrick couldn’t help but roll his eyes, what did you even see in this guy?

    His eyes floated over to the girl he was looking at, “ Yeah, looks like you’re observing that chick over there.”

    Rodrick couldn’t stop his tone from being a little harsh, and he hoped Chris didn’t notice.

    “ Hell yeah, should I go talk to her?” Chris asked, a little too eagerly, might Rodrick add, but he wasn’t one to judge.

    “ Nah dude, who I really think you should talk to, is over there.” Rodrick pointed over at you, watching as you happily chattered with Heather of all people.

    “ What? Dude that’s literally a death sentence, they’re clearly into you.” Chris nudged Rodrick,” You should go talk to them.”     Rodrick bit back a few choice words, Chris didn’t know how good he had it,” No, trust me on this one man, just go talk to them.”     “ I’m good off that man, they aren’t my type anyways, too chatty.” Chris remarked, and that was all Rodrick needed.     “ Too chatty?” He exclaimed, shoulders bristling as he spoke through grit teeth.     “ Dude, they only talk to you so much because they like you.” He couldn’t believe this, Chris was walking away from the literal definition of picture perfect in Rodrick’s eyes, and he almost hated him for it, almost.     “ Woah really? Maybe I’ll just try to slide in then.” Chris laughed at his own crude joke, and with you in mind Rodrick decided against punching him in the face.     “ You’re the fucking worst.” Rodrick sneered, and Chris put his hands up in mock surrender right before Rodrick walked away.     The night had certainly progressed, and Rodrick was definitely drinking tonight, he hadn’t seen you for most of the party, and that fact started to worry him.     Walking down the never ending hallways of Heather’s huge home, he managed to stumble upon the plot twist of the century. Behind the door at the end of the hallway was apparently Heather’s room, and what became even more apparent was the figure of Heather Hills on top of Chris.     If this were to happen a few months ago, Rodrick would’ve been pissed at the sight, and now, now he was still pissed, but for a much different reason.

    The door slammed shut behind him, muffling Heather’s shrill screams in horror at being caught. Rushing down the steps, he continued to squeeze past the sea of bodies as he tried to search for you. And once he did find you, he was dragging you towards the door, you following him willingly causing him to go faster.

    “ Rodrick, what’s going on?” You were frantic, and he didn’t answer until he swung open the front door.

    The air did little to nothing to cool Rodrick’s heated attitude, and he turned to face you, looking up as you were still at the door, and he was on the sidewalk.

    “ Can we ditch? Please.” He asked weakly, not knowing what to say if you asked why.

    “ What happened, are you okay? What about Chris?” You asked clearly confused as you walked down to him.     As quick as his heart leapt at your concern, it was crushed at the mention of him.     “ Who cares about him!” Rodrick snapped, temper catching up to him as a multitude of emotions swirled in his chest.

    “ I do!” You defended, but a part of you knew you didn’t mean that as strongly as before.     “ Why?!” He challenged, and he really wanted an answer, because whenever he thought about it, it was lost to him.

    “ What’s so great about him?” Question after question kept spewing out before he even had the chance to feel bad.     “ What about him makes him so much better-” He choked on his words, the gravity of his statement bringing him back to reality as he looked away from you.     “ Better?” You questioned softly, not swayed by his attitude, and that was clear when he saw the concern dance in your eyes as he turned back to face you.     “ Better than me.” His voice was soft now, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear.     It all made sense now.

    Like the last piece of the puzzle slid into place allowing you to see the full picture. Your ever growing concern, that time when you said no to hanging out with Chris, the fact that you hardly even cared about Chris anymore. You were finally able to make sense of it all, and it all boiled down to one now glaringly obvious fact.

    You liked Rodrick Heffley, and you were pretty sure he liked you too.

    The world felt silent despite the raging party inside, and everything felt so vulnerable, the way Rodrick couldn’t look you in the eye, and the way you saw him now with your feelings apparent. You wondered how long he felt this way, and his behavior at practice a few days ago also made sense. A small huff of air escaped you, and you looked at the boy in front of you with such fondness that it compelled you to reach out.

    You cupped his face lightly, and if anyone looked as closely as you did, they would see how his brows were slightly furrowed with anxiety, and how his jaw was clenched. The entirety of your being softened once you felt him relax in your hold, turning his face to meet yours, he looked at you with the adoration you felt for him.

    “ Now that you mention it.” You said softly, and Rodrick looked as though he was hanging onto your every word, and that’s because he was.     “ No one’s better than you Rodrick.” You could see the immediate relief that overtook him, eyes softening as his hands went to rest on your hips.     “ No one?” He mumbled, still in disbelief.     You shook your head, a smile gracing your features that almost brought Rodrick to his knees. You brought him in closer, and your lips brushed against each other before they locked. Holding you tighter, he couldn’t help but smile as he kissed you, and this caused you to giggle, kissing for a few beats longer before you broke apart.     “ Let’s go back home, Rockstar.” You faced him as you dragged him down the sidewalk, not that you needed to, Rodrick would go anywhere you told him to, and he was sure you would do the same.

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Again and Again.” [←Previous | Next→]

—

"you can't be serious right?"

"I am."

"..."

—

You would stand there, eyes widening as he just finished his little confession..then suddenly he'd speak up

"is it really that hard to believe I have feelings for you?"

"coming from you Sukuna? Yes, yes it is hard to believe, if you think you can win my forgiveness with some petty confession that I doubt is real your wrong."

"how long did you practice saying that for?"

"y/n I'm dead serious, I like you, I really do.."

You refuse to believe he's telling the truth. A visible scowl would appear on your face before you clenched your fist as you stared at him as if you were on the verge of tears.

"You're lying, aren't you? Even if your confession is genuine do you really think I'd accept it that easily? You've been openly hating me for years for no absolute reason, do you think it's funny to play with my feelings? I've been hurt enough I don't need you to add more to that problem. If you really did like me then you should've spoken up sooner instead of now."

"I was about to. Remember when your ex confessed his feelings for you during high school? How did he get you those flowers and letters?"

"Just what are you implying Sukuna."

"guess what y/n that was all me. I got you those flowers and letters not him. It was all Me yet you were dating someone who never loved you like I did. yet? you chose him over me. I would've treated you better than him if you just used your Brain back then."

"if what you are saying is true..then how come you haven't spoken up? I would've believed you if you just told me that instead of ignoring me and acting as if you hated me. Did doing all that get you anywhere Sukuna?"

"No..."

"Exactly. It got you nowhere. You could've just told me then this whole thing could've been avoided but no. You just had to add more fuel to the fire, didn't you? You just had to make the situation worse."

"tell me Sukuna did you have fun toying with my emotions? Was it worth it? This doesn't mean I believe in your petty confession."

With that you'd immediately turn to leave, as you did you just left him standing there leaving him and his emotions alone together for him to figure it out himself.

He shouldn't have said that. Why were you being so difficult?

He really was a fool for believing he'd actually have a chance with you, but he knows his chances are low despite that he can't help but keep chasing after you no matter how hard he tries to deny the fact he hates you.

But you on the other hand..you wanted to believe what he said was genuine, but deep down you know. You know everything he says..it's still the same Sukuna deep down.—

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/N: I didn't know what to do for this part because erm..the thing is....I make all the parts on the spot...🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

(I promise I'll make the next part longer 😞😞🙏‼️)

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[torturedtypewritersdept]

the sun + the sand - pt. six - the proposition

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

The aluminum of the boat you sat in swayed back and forth, the ebb and flow of the current beneath it creating a rocking pattern against your skin. It had always made you nauseous – being on the water. There was something about the unsteady, uncoordinated movement of the waves that reminded you how much you were like them, floating through life with no destination. You had always followed what everyone else was doing and when you were drowning, Rafe clung to you; he had always been the life vest protecting you amidst the water trying to permeate your lungs. The nausea was overwhelming as you listened to Pope spew facts he had learned at the science camp he had spent the first few weeks of his summer at; his obsession with becoming a coroner shining through as he led the conversation. You couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what was being said the same way John B’s arm draped around your shoulders, you should’ve been enjoying affection from a boy, especially one so sought after. But, you couldn’t because really, it all felt wrong. It always did when you spent time with this crowd. Though the blue and pink hues of the decorated cotton candy sky was a nice addition to your sunset boat ride, you still felt out of place. You knew you would no matter what. Even after John had practically begged you like a puppy to join the gang for this rendezvous, promising JJ would be nowhere in sight – it still felt odd and wrong to be there, to be amidst his friends, when all you could think about was Rafe. You were torn away from the thoughts that your brain was creating at the speed of light as your phone chimed. 

Unknown: you look so beautiful today. 

The screen read a sweet message and you wondered who it was from, it couldn’t be Rafe. If he was going to say something sweet, he wouldn’t text you from a private number. You quickly closed and locked your phone thinking it must be nothing more than a wrong number, even though the compliment gave you the resemblance of butterflies in your gut. 

Unknown: don’t ignore me. 

This time as your phone chimed, the message changed in tone and you decided to reply – a snarky, sarcastic comment for the person who remained anonymous was what you dished out. 

To unknown: It’s hard to reply when I don't know who I’m speaking to. 

As quickly as you had hit send, another message appeared in the queue. 

Unknown: watch your mouth or I'll gut you like a fish. 

You swallowed thickly at the words that littered your screen, unsure of who was behind them. You couldn’t think of anyone who would talk to you like that unless it was one of your boys playing a joke. But quickly pushed away the thought. Surely, they’d never speak to you that way even if they were kidding, or so you hoped. 

“Are you alright, y/n?” 

John B’s voice echoed against your ears as tears pricked your eyes and panic rose through your chest, the walls of your heart contracting simultaneously, you subconsciously recognized the tells of an anxiety attack creeping its way up your throat. John B’s lack of awareness, lack of knowing you the way Rafe did was just one more reason why you needed to be away from him. 

“R-rafe, take me to Rafe. Please.” 

You begged and he nodded though reluctant, wanting you to trust him and confide in him the same way that you did Rafe. He wanted you to be his peach, to regard him in your heart the same way you regarded the Cameron boy, though part of him knew it would never happen. Girls like you weren’t meant to end up with guys like him and even if you loved him in the same way he loved you, he knew Rafe Cameron would die before he ever let it happen. 

-

John B barely had time to get the hms pogue adjacent to the Cameron’s dock before you jumped off the ledge, clearing the width between the aluminum and the wood of the pier. You needed Rafe and you needed him now, it left no time for pleasantries and frankly, you didn’t care about the routledge boy enough to provide him with a false sense of comfort, a false sense that you were his when you weren’t. So, you did what you knew how to – you ran. Your feet padded against the wood of the dock as fast as they could, your breath uneven as you made it to the end and scoured the property for your person. He stood by Kelce and Topper at the pool, his tan skin stretched across broad shoulders, muscles contracting as he laughed and sipped from the red solo cup in his hand. You made your way toward him, almost knocking him over as you latched on to him like a child after losing their parents in the grocery store. 

“I know those arms, anywhere.” 

He chuckled against you, leaning into you as you hugged him from behind. You stilled against him, muscles retracting in relief as just his aura brought you an immeasurable amount of peace. His laughter stopped as he felt tiny drops hit the skin at the middle of his spine and before you could protest he turned around, taking you in. His blue orbs searched you for injury, it wasn’t like you to look so panicked, especially in public settings. This behavior was not like you in any sense and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on. So, he did what he did best. He picked you up, guiding your arms and legs around his neck and torso in a koala like hold and carried you to his bedroom, knowing that whatever was plaguing you couldn’t be shared in front of the other two stooges. As he entered the threshold of his bedroom, he placed you onto the blue satin sheets that you loved so much, the coolness against your skin was already soothing you as Rafe parted your knees and wedged his body between them, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your eyes remained focused on the tan skin of his chest, his pectoral muscles built to such a degree that it made him look like a c-cup. You smiled briefly at the thought. 

“Peach, baby, what’s going on?” 

He asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing his thumb across the skin of your cheek. 

“I-, were you and the boys sending me weird texts earlier?” 

You stuttered as you asked, afraid of his answer being yes, but also afraid of it being no. You wanted so badly for it to be a practical joke and for you not to have a reason to be scared. 

“No, baby. Why would you ask that?” 

You didn’t respond, simply handing over the phone, placing it in his hands and watching as he took in the conversation. His eyes darted back and forth as read the contents of the screen, stopping only when he was finished. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, remaining in his spot between your legs. 

“I’m fine – that’s the last thing I need to hear right now, Rafe.” 

He swallowed thickly before retorting. 

“Well, what do you need to hear? What am I supposed to say about this? About you showing up on my doorstep every time you’re in trouble?” 

His words stung – he knew they had, shit, they had felt like vomit expelling from him, the twist of his insides after he lurched over the toilet ever present. That’s what he felt as he watched your face contort in sadness. 

“I don’t know, tell me this is fake, that it’s a joke, that I don’t have a reason to be scared. I mean, this paired with all the other weird shit, it just, I don’t know, okay? Sorry – I’ll go. I just didn’t know what to do. But, hey – I’ll figure it out.” 

You said, swaying on your feet as you stood, preparing to walk away from the room of the boy you loved. Your brain didn’t process any of what he said in normal emotion, it only registered that he was sick of you and you were adding stress to him and that was the last thing you ever wanted to do. He pulled you in by your wrist, making your face collide with the muscles of his chest as he rubbed your hair away from your face and craned his neck to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I want to help you, okay? You are not going to navigate this by yourself, peach. I’d die if something happened to you. Now, I think I may have an idea.” 

You pulled your head away from his chest, meeting his eyes with question laced in yours. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

You asked, moving to sit on the bed again and Rafe followed your lead, plopping down parallel to you before turning to face you. 

“Well – it seems like all this stuff is related, that weirdo at your house and these texts. I’m worried someone is stalking you, sweetheart.” 

He said, blue eyes boring into yours and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him. 

“Stalking? Come on, Rafe – as if. I’m not special enough for someone to stalk me.” 

You muttered.

“Peach – yes you are. Just because you can’t see that, doesn’t mean it’s not possible, baby.” 

He replied, grabbing your hands in his. 

“Okay, so what’s your big idea? I mean what are we supposed to do? We don’t even know who it could be.”  

You stated matter-of-factly. 

“I think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He replied and you were shell-shocked, the question and confusion written on your face. 

“Huh? Like for real?” 

You asked. 

“I mean – I need to protect you and come on, it’s not so far off for us, is it? The idea of being your fake boyfriend for a while, I mean. No one will come near you if you’re with me, sweetheart and it just means more time with my Georgia peach.” 

He said, smiling from ear-to-ear. 

“How long are we supposed to keep this up?” 

You questioned. ‘Forever, I hope’ he thought as he stared into your sweet face. 

“As long as it takes.” 

He replied, pushing his thoughts down. 

“Okay, but we have to make it look real, Rafe. People will figure it out otherwise, we can’t just act like we usually do.” 

You said and he curled his eyebrow upward. 

“What do you propose, Peach?” 

He asked.

“I mean – we could kiss?” 

You said, almost in the form of a question and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. You were shocked, mostly because it felt the way it was supposed to, the way you had always daydreamed about, electricity running from your mouth to the tips of your toes. You pulled away after a moment and looked at him. 

“Just practicing.” 

He said, a smirk lifting on one side of his mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and wished so badly that one day, this would all be real. 

as always, if you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know <3

taglist:

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[sugar-plum-writer]

A Heian Era Affair

Paring: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader Text: Gojo ends up in the Heian Era through unknown reason (will be reveled later on) and meets reader and hence journey begins both of adventure and romance~ [If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 1

The bamboo trees rustled as the cool wind blew, almost hauntingly as if carrying a message from another side of the world. Wiping your sweat with a ragged cloth, you stumbled and walked while carrying a bucket of water to your old wooden house.

It was hard to make a living, the minister of your area was evil, exploiting the people to death, and raising taxes beyond what people could pay. It was a nightmare- no worse at least you could wake up from nightmares but what about reality? can you wake up from it?

Sometimes you wanted to barge in and rip his head off. Too bad you could not, the guards were too strong, and with your strength you doubt you could ever survive.

Sighing, you returned to the river to fill your bucket again.

You had just bent over when a strong gust of wind started blowing out from nowhere, the trees shrieked as the water rippled- throwing you back 10 feet away with a slam- making you hit a tree. The sharp pain made your back go numb. As you tried to get up staggering- the wind kicked up a notch increasing it's speed and power like a cyclone. Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at what was happening- a big black hole appeared in the middle of the river; with water distorting around it and floating up defying gravity.

"What on-"

Before your brain could comprehend what just happened, a white-haired man flew out of the hole towards you, slamming into you-

Bang

Opening your eyes, you tried to get up, but- found the man on top of you, your legs intertwined together, he groaned as he tried to stand

"Ugh"

His voice was deep causing you to freeze a moment, but you came back to your senses and pushed him off

"Who are you!? You demon!" you screamed as you looked at him

"Me? Ah I am Gojo Satoru and no I am no demon, it's the first someone has called me a demon! sure I might be tall but it does not mean I am a demon haha~" he smiled as he looked at you helping you stand up

"What-!? but you j-"

"Do you know where this is? I am a bit in a hurry"

"This is Mizushima village…."

He paused

"What?…. since when did we have a Mizushima village in Japan? Isn't Mizushima an Island!? which prefecture even is this?"

"Prefecture? Our village is part of the Minamoto Clan on the West side"

He paused longer this time

"Minamoto Clan?…"

"Yeah"

"eh?" he froze as he cocked his head to the side

"For real?"

"Yeah"

"I….what-what era is this?" his voice trembled a bit

"This is the Heian Era…the year is 1185…" You looked at him as he stood grounded on the spot contemplating the meaning of his life

Now that you observed him, he was wearing weird clothing the fabric was also very different from what you had ever seen, it was so smooth and very different from cotton- almost otherworldly

"Is he a noble? from Heian-kyo?", you thought to yourself and backed away a bit

"I am…1000 years in the past oh shit"

"Shit? What does it mean? which part are you from? your Japanese is very weird" You looked at him even more confused, even his accent was weird and some words he used were different

"Ah…." he looked at you struggling to explain

"You see…I am from the future more than 1000 years from the future, I know it sounds absurd but..it is the truth" he looked at you seriously meaning every word he said

"Huh? What-what bullshit are you saying? Are you a psycho? possessed?" you looked at him bewildered

"What is bullshit?" he looked at you confused

"I-I am leaving; good day to you, to ask what bullshit means I- you should find a priest" Picking up your bucket you hurried away wondering why you always met weirdos

"Wait-!" he yelled but you turned deaf to his words and ran as fast as your feet allowed you to.

You ran as fast as you could but he appeared in front of you almost like magic

"Please listen to me! I am not lying!!" he grabbed you by the shoulders frantically

"I really am from the future!"

"You freak let go of me!! AHHHHH!" you punched him doing little to no damage and screaming

This continued for some time, you running and him teleporting wherever you were it went on for a few hours and soon both of you sat panting on the ground

"Man…you sure got some stamina.." he wiped the sweat off his forehead simultaneously removing the blindfold

You froze- his eyes- were breathtaking; looking into them your heart exploded like fireworks, so serene, it felt like you were looking at the sky itself. You had never seen such eyes ever

How can someone be this good-looking?

"What? too captive by my looks~ Ah I guess even in the Heian Era I am attractive~" he leaned in with a smirk causing you to look away blushing crimson

"Who would!? you demon! Get away!"

He pouted a bit disappointed

"H…How do I believe you are from the future? And your powers? What are you?"

"I am a sorcerer from the Gojo Clan and…as for how I am from the future…" he scratched his head

"Got it!"

He smirked and took out a weird looking box and opened it

"Here try some, I bet you have never eaten something like this! It is a cheesecake that too from a very famous shop"

With swift movement from his hands, he put the cake in your hands, its scent was sweet, it was jiggly- even a bit liquid-y making you wonder if it was poison

"You...you sure humans can eat this?" your hands trembled as you held the plate

"Yes, it is! here~" he took the fork in his hands and ate a small bite of the cake- grinning

"Ah it really is good~"

Seeing him eat it and look so elated you also wanted a bite- how bad could it be? with a gulp and sharp breath you took a bite- a bite so good it made your eyes light up-

The flavor was exploding in your mouth, it had a rich and creamy flavor with a slightly tangy and sweet taste. The texture was smooth and dense melting in your mouth it felt like heaven.

"It must be so expensive....even in death I doubt I could eat something like this.."

He paused for a moment but then a smile crept up his lips

"Eh it was nothing just enjoy~" he winked

"You should see your reaction~ now that's a nice expression! It makes me wonder what other reactions you can make if I gave you other things~" smirking he leaned in his breath inches away from yours

"So...Do you believe me now?"

"....Yeah" nodding you took another bite

"Yay! Thank you~ please look after me from now on~"

[Link to my master list~ enjoy!]

[atwas-gaming]

People who complain that Sonic's character is "static" must have never played Unleashed or Black Knight. Or they did, but they didn't understand them.

I think one of the reasons why Unleashed and Black Knight are such fan favorites and stick in our memory so well is because the entire theme of both games is about taking Sonic out of his element, taking away things that he has relied on for so long- speed, jumping, spindashing, boosting, homing attacks- taking all those things away from him, and seeing how he does.

And he still shines. Even without all the abilities that he has relied on throughout his entire life, he still manages to beat the Big Bad.

(Please note that I haven't finished either game yet and I'm just drawing from what I've been spoiled on.)

As the werehog, Sonic is not able to curl into a ball at all (we're ignoring the mobile games for this post), and his greater height and weight, probably due to a larger bone structure, as well as heavier, thicker fur, keeps him from being able to run as fast or jump as high as he's used to. He now how to resort to fighting styles he has never used before, including several forms of martial arts (aided by his Dark Gaia-powered stretch abilities). Perhaps the most unusual of all is how he has to get down on all fours to run.

In addition, Sonic describes his werehog form as "pretty ugly." Sonic thinks of himself as good-looking, and this is a part of his personal identity, which is part of why he was upset that Amy didn't recognize him (no matter what feelings he may or may not have for her). The werehog form also seems to be physically uncomfortable and taxing on Sonic's body due to the heavier weight, as the werehog idle animations include Sonic stretching in an exaggerated way and forcibly rotating his shoulders (motions I, myself, have learned to use after years at a desk job that has ruined my neck and upper back). Sonic's idle animations also include him being jumpy and looking around every few seconds- basically, the werehog never fully relaxes.

All in all, Sonic is very uncomfortable as a werehog, and prefers not to be seen in this form. But the reason why is not fully evident until he thanks Chip for protecting him and keeping him from turning evil. To this, Chip replies, "I haven't done anything, Sonic. You're too strong to lose yourself."

On top of this, Amy doesn't have a problem with Sonic's appearance. She still loves him. Tails also doesn't care what Sonic looks like. Neither does Professor Pickle. Neither does ANYONE. Even if they're startled by the werehog's appearance at first, they all seem to go, "Oh, it's just Sonic. This is just what he's like at night."

The entire story of Unleashed was about Sonic coming to realize that he is not who he is because of what he looks like or how he is built.

Black Knight takes this a step further. In Unleashed, Sonic wasn't able to run, but he was still able to use his body as a weapon. In Black Knight, Sonic can run again, but nowhere near as fast as his normal speed. All of Sonic's abilities to fight with his body are stripped from him, and he is forced to use an actual weapon, instead. And Sonic hates this. He even says it: "I wish I didn't have to use this dang sword!"

Sonic has never used a weapon before in the games (as far as I am aware, anyway). His weapon has always been his own body: his feet, his fists, his whole body via spindash and homing attack. Now he's having to train himself to fight with something outside of his own body. This requires not only the creation of new muscle memory, but also a complete shift in the way his brain processes information to fight. He always has the option to just crumble and say, "I can't do this, it's not what I'm used to, I give up." He never does that. He complains a bit at first, but eventually rises to the occasion and excels at swordfighting.

Please bear in mind that I haven't ever gotten past the King Arthur battle. I presume Sonic is forced to kill him, and then I believe there's another half a game after that. But so far, it seems that Sonic's character arc in Black Knight is about him learning that he is not who he is just because of what he can do.

What makes Sonic Sonic is not what he looks like or what he is able to do, but about who he is inside. Sonic is someone who cares, someone who is strong, someone who doesn't give up, someone who sees a difficult situation and, no matter how much of an inconvenience it may be, turns it around and finds a way through.

[lexosaurus]

stained teeth leave the aftertaste of rot (part 3)

Part three of my @ecto-implosion fic for @antleredweirdo's art [right here]! (seriously check it out it's amazing)

Characters: Danny Fenton Tags/warnings: minor character death, gore, ghost hunger Summary: Danny was just sick. It was probably some sort of ghost flu that was making his body heavy, his stomach hollow, and his eyes burn with fatigue. There was no way he was—no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't. In the darkest corner of the room, something shifted.

[read on ao3]

[part 1] [part 2]

****

The days blurred together. Danny didn’t know if it was Monday or Wednesday or some other day that week. 

The only way he could confirm that time was passing at all was how each morning when he woke up, he saw the shadow standing slightly closer to him than it had the day before.

The first morning, he’d tried to order it back into its corner. But it just smirked at him and refused to move.

So Danny had given up. And now he was wandering around Amity Park because…he couldn’t remember. Was he trying to go to Tucker’s house? Or was he coming home from Tucker’s house? He thought Tucker might have been the reason he was outside at this hour and still in human form, but he couldn’t quite remember…

There was no reason to be in his ghost form, anyway. There was nothing to patrol. Ever since Johnny 13, Danny hadn't seen his normal rotation of ghosts. Skulker seemed nowhere to be found, and Ember hadn't stopped by either, which was strange because she'd said she was going to debrief with him after the new Dead Teacher single dropped and now, some unknown days later, he hadn't seen her even once. 

Maybe she'd forgotten?

Usually at this point, Youngblood was bored and looking for people to play a new game with, and the Box Ghost was out seeking new boxes to attempt to stake a very flimsy claim with. But strangely, neither of those ghosts had crossed over to the Human World either.

Since Danny was still sick with this ghost flu, he didn't particularly mind the peace and quiet. But, it did set him on edge all the same.

Why had no one appeared? 

Had something happened in the Ghost Zone?

Or, maybe Johnny 13 had told them Danny was tired and needed a break?

...Yeah, no. Danny amended that thought as soon as it popped into his head. He'd complained about being tired many times before and the ghosts had never particularly cared. Maybe their years of being dead had made them all forget what it was like to have human needs like sleep. Regardless, his human necessities had proven to have little effect on their abilities to cause chaos in Amity Park.

So, if not that, then what? Why? Why were they staying away?

And why did he care? 

He stopped, shaking his head. Was he seriously getting offended right now about this? Why did it matter if they were staying away from him? 

Do they know? a corner of his brain asked.

There was nothing to know, he argued back.

The shadow laughed silently next to him.

"Stop following me around," Danny shot at it.

That only seemed to make it laugh more.

His core groaned, and he paused on the sidewalk, lightheadedness swarming his head like a beehive. He leaned against the building beside him and rubbed his forehead with clammy fingers that seemed too pointed to be human any longer. His core had begun doing this a few days ago. It had been whining at him to transform for a while now, but for the past few days, it was pulsing with a desperation he found almost impossible to resist.

And he was resisting.

He told himself that he wasn't transforming into Phantom because there was no need to. With all the ghosts seemingly avoiding Amity Park, there was no reason for him to become Phantom. It was too dangerous, anyway, with the Guys in White constantly patrolling, as well as his parents, Valerie, and all the little contractor ghost-hunting companies that Vlad Masters (that douche) had begun to employ.

Lies... the shadow seemed to say, though it hadn't said anything at all. It didn't have a mouth to speak with. It didn't have a face to gloat. It didn't have eyes to glint at him, nor lips to grin mischievously at him with. But Danny could feel that all the same. 

"I'm not lying," Danny grumbled, his voice hardly loud enough to reach the air a few inches away.

The shadow, strolling across the middle of the road toward him, still with no ears to hear with, didn't seem to have a problem understanding him. You're lying.

"I'm not."

The shadow simply grinned a wicked smile at him in return, and Danny could imagine the ghostly fangs poking out from the corners of its lips.

It was all in his head, all in his head.

His core shuddered, and Danny closed his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to repress the frost that crept up his throat. But he wasn't strong enough, he couldn't hold his breath forever in his human form, and eventually when he opened his mouth to let out the air he'd been holding hostage in his diaphragm, a blue wisp containing microscopic ice crystals and snow escaped his lips.

His ghost sense.

The pull was overwhelming. And suddenly, it didn't seem to matter if his human half required air or not because he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe right now. There was simply no oxygen in the air.

Aura took over his eyes and, like an addict searching for his next hit, his gaze whipped around the air, searching desperately for the ghost. 

It was here. He didn't see it, he didn't see it. But it was here. It had to be. 

His ghost sense never lied.

He felt the overwhelming tug of his core again, and he realized with a mouth-watering hunger that it was directing him. 

Boundless relief rushed through him. He was saved! If he just listened to his core, he could find the ghost after all!

Everything was going to be okay.

But then the human part of him stepped back in, begging him to listen to reason, to turn around and go home because if he listened to his core, if he gave in to the goading of the shadow and the hole in his body then he would lose every last drop of his humanity that his ecto-infused cells still clung to.

It was disgusting how easily his transformation snuffed out the screaming of his human consciousness.

Finally silent, his brain exhaled. Now, there was no confusion. No moral drama to tend to. All he had to do was follow his core. 

Yes.

Finally.

Phantom floated down the street as if in a daze. He rounded the corner, and continued on his merry way, humming happily. His core whined, and he shushed his body, promising to fix it all soon.

He didn't have enough sense left in his brain to pay attention to where they were going. He didn't know whether there were humans around him, or if any of them were trying to get his attention for a selfie or a Tiktok as they often did. He found that, for the first time, he didn't care about anything as insignificant as the wants of other humans. Why should he? He was a ghost, after all. And besides, he was busy.

Hunting.

The prey was near. He could sense it. The switch in his core, from electric whining to a hushed hum. He shifted out of visibility. For most ghosts, that wouldn't matter; they could sense when another specter was nearby. But for a ghost like this...

Phantom peered around a building and saw it: his target.

"Will you be my friend?" the ghost asked a cat rubbing itself against a wooden post.

The cat made no motion that it'd heard or even cared about the green ghost in its pink-striped pajamas. It stepped forward, letting the rough wood on the pole stroke across its body, and then turned around to get the other side of its long body.

"Why does nobody want to be my friend?" the ghost wailed, bringing thick fingers up to hide its face. It bowed, bobbing until its blond hair brushed over its fingers as if it were trying to bury its face in shame.

Well, it wouldn't need to feel shame for much longer.

Phantom crept forward, slowly, raising invisible claws but not directing power yet to the tips of his fingers. He needed to get closer if he wanted to make this clean.

Perhaps he was more eager than he'd realized at the prospect of bringing down this great beast because he'd hardly moved more than a foot around the corner of the building when the ghost sensed him.

A startled grunt escaped its lips as its head shot up from its hands. "Who's there?" it asked.

The world tunneled, and darkness began to shroud the edges of Phantom's vision. He grinned, the tips of his teeth pricking the delicate skin of his lips, but he could hardly feel it.

"Do you want to be my friend? I'm looking for new friends."

Phantom prowled forward, inching slowly. The muscles in his claws flexed as anticipation shot up his spine.

The weak smile slipped off the ghost's face, and its hands raised in submission. It said weakly, "Please come out."

Phantom's core cackled. This ghost was scared. It could sense his intentions. Good. Be scared. 

"I just want to make friends."

Phantom was sure the smile on his lips was wicked. And suddenly, some ghostly part of him urged him to drop his invisibility. To let the ghost see how easily it'd been overpowered by him. 

So Danny unshrouded his body from the linen robes of invisibility and watched in glee as the ghost's face relaxed in recognition.

"Oh, Phantom? It's just you. You know, for a second I thought—"

Phantom glided closer to the prey, the points on his claws turning knifelike as his teeth sharpened dangerously.

The ghost's mouth fell open in horror. 

"Wait, please. Phantom—I—please..." it babbled, trying to scramble back.

One last flicker of humanity, the part that recognized this ghost as one with a name, with personality, as Klemper, yelled at him to stop, please, stop! But Phantom just laughed, his chuckle twisted and cruel, biting the air with the acrid taste of starvation. Because Phantom was starving, and this was the solution.

Phantom's acid eyes slowly meandered back to the trembling, lowly ghost hugging its torso with baggy, pink arms. Its red eyes stared pleadingly, welling with tears as its broken voice let out one last whisper.

"I thought we were friends."

The last of Phantom's patience drained away in an instant, and he surged forward, closing the distance to the prey before it could react. His claws made contact with something soft, and he pushed power through his palms, throwing the prey into the alley behind it. It hit the wall hard, cracking the brick as shockwaves pounded the air. 

"Wait!"

But Phantom was done waiting.

His aura glowed like a blizzard as he followed the prey into the alley. The air was growing darker, darker, and there was his prey, glowing with fresh ectoplasm.

He shot forth, sinking his claws into the prey. His fingers tore through the pajamas easily, knifing the ectoplasmic body underneath and slicing the membrane skin like it was putty.

The moment the scent of fresh, liquid ectoplasm hit Phantom's nose, his eyes stopped seeing, his fingers stopped feeling, everything his brain knew and loved was green.

The first drop of the nectar of the gods hit his tongue, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. His body was a black hole, devouring ectoplasm with drunken craze as this sweet, citrus liquid candy flowed into him.

This was beautiful. This was everything.

He hadn't known why he'd been so afraid before. Why he hadn't let himself indulge in this incredible delicacy. Why he'd been so foolish as to let himself starve.

Now, he was saved.

The cries of his core lulled as he filled his stomach with ectoplasm. He could feel his energy rising again, and the black hole in his chest began shrinking, shrinking, until it was nearly gone. But not quite.

His body was alight with the thrill of the hunt, the enchantment of this feast. He scooped more ectoplasm into his sticky fingers and poured it down his throat. At last, his core let out a satisfied purr and settled down for a nap, and with a flash of light, the urge to dine was over.

Awareness came to his senses again. The gravel digging into his knees, the tingling of his feet as it ached with sleep, the chill of the evening air prickling his wet skin.

His wet skin...

He felt the blood drain from his face first. Then, nausea rolled through him like a tsunami, crushing his heart and lungs and brain with a sea of putrid green battery acid.

The urge to run had never felt so strong, and yet he couldn't move. His legs were plastered to the ground under an inch of ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that he alone had put there.

The pink-striped pajamas were nowhere to be seen, likely having dissolved to join the rest of the spilled ectoplasm the moment Danny tore Klemper's core from his chest. 

Klemper. Oh Ancients, Klemper.

Danny was shaking—violently—eyes searching for a ghost that no longer existed as the world began to spin. His eyes darted around the carnage, frenzied as he searched for Klemper's toothy smile. But Klemper wasn't here. 

Klemper's weak words, his last, defeated muttering of "I thought we were friends" bounced off the cavernous walls of Danny's mind. And then he felt sick all over again. He bent over, gagging, trying to expel all the poison that he'd just consumed. Klemper, it was Klemper. But nothing came up. His body refused to let him eject the disease within.

Ectoplasm dripped down his chin, and he furiously tried to wipe it away. But his hands were too sticky with the substance, and all he succeeded in doing was smearing the remains around his cheeks.

He trembled, and the cold bit him. His hands were still shaped more like claws than human fingers, and the taste of lime and acid and something sweet was still on the back of his tongue. His breathing picked up, ragged and icy, as an invisible hand reached into his chest and squeezed his lungs.

Delusion was still fighting his brain, and for a moment he could almost convince himself that Klemper had gotten away. Danny had injured him, but he was okay. Danny hadn't...he wouldn't...

No.

No!

Danny shut his eyes and rocked back and forth, the tips of his claws digging into his cheeks. Danny was the good guy. He was the hero. He wouldn't kill another creature, even if that being was already dead. He wouldn't. 

He wasn't a murderer. 

Where was Klemper?

His eyes flung open, desperate to try searching one last time for the ghost, and then he froze.

Standing at the entrance of the alley was the nameless, faceless shadow. It stood between the glow from the street lamps and the ectoplasm puddled on the ground watching him without eyes, without expression. It made no attempts to come closer, nor back away. Its posture wasn't tense, nor relaxed. And where Danny expected a goading grin, it had none.

"Say something," Danny growled at the shadow. "Fucking damnit, say something!"

But it just stood there doing nothing.

It didn't have a face. It didn't have a mouth to grin at him with. It didn't have any body language to even hint at an emotion.

And it never did.

It was just standing there. That's all it'd ever done.

A lampost in the street flickered, and the shadow wavered like a candle flame brushing the wind. And then, to Danny's horror, he realized that it wasn't a humanoid shadow at all, but the shadow of a trash bag lying next to the dumpster.

His stomach pitted once again, and his eyes glazed over. 

He thought back to this week. At the shadow in his bedroom—the curtains wavering in the open window—or the shadow following him to his classes—had there been a shadow at all? 

All this time. All this damn time. There wasn't anything there. There'd never been anything there.

He bent over now, his breath hoarse. His lungs burned with ice and acid, and every time he opened his eyes, all he could see was the wreckage that he'd done.

Him. Danny Phantom. A murderer. 

No. 

It was too much. Too much. His ribs were collapsing on his body, and everything hurt.

He forced himself to stand. To get up. He looked away so he didn't have to see the ectoplasm clinging to his jeans like a child glued to their mother's legs. 

"I—I'm—" Danny tried. I'm sorry. But he couldn't.

He couldn't do it.

So instead, like a coward, he ran. The ectoplasm squelched under his shoes, crying tears of abandonment, and it sickened him how he could remember how good it'd tasted, how he could still taste the remnants on his lips.

The hurricane winds slammed his brain, and he snapped, triggering his transformation and shooting into the air. Invisibility was quick to cover him again, hiding his crimes from the public eye and himself. 

He didn't know how long it took him to fly home. Time no longer mattered to him. But, crossing through his windowpane, he didn't stop. He was dirty, covered in ectoplasm that had begun to dry on the flight home, and he couldn't let it stain his body. He needed to get it off, to clean his skin, to cover and lie and hide every particle of the monster he'd become from the world.

The water pelted his back like ice pellets. He didn't have time to wait for the shower to warm up. He was too dirty for that.

He stood unmoving until the water heated, head bowed as he watched green mix with water and swirl down the drain. Steam began to cloud the air as the water turned scalding, but he refused to look away. Refused to turn away as Klemper flooded his drain.

He's still alive, his brain tried to reason. You didn't kill him. You wouldn't.

No, Danny knew. He was a monster. A cruel, evil monster.

He was shaking again. His limbs were growing heavier by the second. It took all his strength, but he managed to lift his hands—he had human fingers again—and scrub every inch of his skin and hair. Then again. And again, until the water that pooled at his feet was no longer tinted green.

He shut the shower off and watched the water as it slid down the drain. His legs refused to move until he could be certain that Klemper wasn't going to try climbing back out of it.

Danny wished the ghost would.

His bed was as soft and comfortable as ever when he reached it, but he didn't deserve it. Only humans could sleep in beds. And Danny wasn't human. So he lay on top of his comforter instead, letting the cold air nip at his skin. But his Phantom core thrived in the cold, and it was delighted to have the night to feel the chill air, and Danny wanted to hurl his phone at the wall and scream because his ghost core didn't deserve anything after what it'd done.

He got up and paced his room, human fingers gripping his hair and pulling while his arms shook and his stomach sloshed with ectoplasm that it refused to let Danny hurl up. 

Monster, monster, his brain yelled. He was a monster. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. His shivering limbs and shuddering breath wouldn't allow it. 

Eventually, he crawled back into his bed and stared wide-eyed at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Delusion was still creeping into his brain, lighting candles of hope that Klemper was still alive somewhere. That he'd snuck away invisibly. That he was hiding and recovering. That it wouldn't be too long before Danny saw his toothy smile and heard his annoying voice asking for friendship again.

Danny was too tired to fight the delusions this time. He turned over in his bed and let them take him into their fantasy. And maybe, when he opened his eyes again, the fantasy would be real.

****

"Jeez, what happened over there?" Sam asked.

"What?" Tucker peered from the video he'd been showing Danny on the phone.

"Look!" 

Danny looked over at Sam whose purple-gloved hand was outstretched and pointing up ahead. Danny followed her finger along the sidewalk until he spotted something that sent his stomach plummeting through the pavement.

There was a trail of green on the sidewalk leading around the corner into an alley. It was ectoplasm, Danny knew implicitly. Even though it was beginning to dry and its glow had died down, Danny had seen enough ectoplasm to know with absolute certainty that this was it.

He hadn't realized that this had happened so near his house. That it was on their path to school.

Denial was a stubborn creature, and at once Danny's brain was trying to throw out possibilities. That this was from a previous ghost fight, that the sidewalk had always been green here, that his altercation with Klemper hadn't been bad enough to lead to this much ectoplasm outside of the alley—but he knew, as he approached the entrance with his friends, that this was from last night.

The sight of the ectoplasm only grew as they approached the alley, and Sam and Tucker sped up, gawking at the bloodbath. Danny trailed behind, trying not to throw up the contents of his breakfast in front of his friends.

"Holy shit!" Tucker exclaimed, reaching the entrance.

Sam blinked, her jaw opening and closing as if searching for the right words to describe what was before her. Finally, she settled on, "Holy shit is right."

The last few steps felt like wading through wet cement, but at last, Danny caught up with them. 

He looked up and took in the scene.

A sea of ectoplasm met his eyeline. It painted the ground with dry edges and pools of ectoplasm in the middle. Slashes of it crawled up the brick wall and tagged the dumpster, painting trash bags around it.

It was a massacre. A feral, insane massacre.

It was Klemper. 

It was all that remained of Klemper.

Any last thread of denial that Danny had still been clinging onto in the aftermath of his shock faded in an instant. There was no way Klemper had survived this. Even if Danny didn't remember flashes of his disgusting hand reaching into Klemper's chest and ripping his core from his body, there was far too much ectoplasm here for anyone to recover from.

"What the hell happened here?"

Silence hung in the air, and it took Danny a moment to tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene to see Sam and Tucker staring at him questionably.

As if they knew.

Danny glanced down at his hands, half expecting to see claws dripping with green, but only his human fingers remained. Then he remembered that Sam and Tucker weren't asking because they'd seen him in the alley, but because he was the town's protector, and this was a lot of ectoplasm.

An excuse crawled up his throat, but he faltered. His hands began to tremble again, and he shoved them in the pockets of his hoodie. His mind was drawing a blank. He didn't have an excuse.

He could tell them what happened. He could spill his secret right now. He could say that he was a monster, that he'd been craving ectoplasm for weeks now, that he'd ignored it because it was a repulsive desire and he wouldn't do it. But in ignoring that need, he'd starved his ghost half, which retaliated in the most brutal way possible. He could talk about how he'd lost control of his morality and had given fully into his desires just like Vlad would and that he was no better than his worst ghostly enemies.

He could tell them.

But then they would hate him. They'd see him for the monster he truly was and they'd never speak to him again.

It was selfish of him to want friends he didn't deserve. But he was a ghost, and ghosts were selfish.

So, he shrugged.

"You didn't see anything on patrol?" Sam asked.

Danny shook his head, not trusting his voice to answer. He wasn't sure he could speak without cracking.

"Well, whatever it was, it must have been brutal," Tucker said, awe tinging his voice.

It was brutal.

"One of the ghosts didn't make it out, I'll say that for sure," Sam echoed.

She was more right than she knew.

"Maybe feuders?" Tucker turned to Danny with a raised brow. "You know, ghosts that died fighting each other so their unfinished business is that they try to hunt each other down? Maybe they accidentally fell through a portal and ended up in the alley, and one finally finished the other off."

"Probably," Sam agreed. "Definitely looks like some sort of animal fight."

Danny shrugged and looked down at his shoes. It was an animal fight. A rabid, crazed animal fight.

Hardly a fight, the shadow in his brain said. It was an extermination. 

Danny recalled how delirious he'd been without any sense of right or wrong, willing to murder his friend if it meant not having to starve. It was despicable, the way he greedily swallowed each mouthful of ectoplasm as if it were the first and last meal he'd ever eat in his life. It was sick and twisted and vile and now here was the aftermath.

Klemper had never stood a chance.

Sam and Tucker gave the alley one last glance and turned away to continue down the sidewalk. They had school to get to, after all. And as they began walking, Danny heard their conversation slip back into video games or whatever they'd been talking about before coming upon this bloodshed.

But Danny couldn't turn away. He remained in front of the alley, staring into the mess of gore and the last of Klemper's life and blood splayed out in front of him.

"I thought we were friends," is what Klemper had said.

There was no way anyone could be friends with a monster like Danny.

****

Thanks for reading!

And HUGE shoutout to antleredweirdo for the amazing art!! I literally saw it in the submissions and it immediately went to the top of my list. I've always wanted to write a super dark Ghost Hunger AU fic, and this was the PERFECT opportunity! Loved playing around with the shadow, and ahhhhh the whole art piece is amazinggggg!

Hope y'all enjoyed!

****

< part 2

[oxymorayuri]

Hiii i read the acex reader i dont remember the title but its the one where she was the revolver?

I wanted to request more parts for it please BCS THE WAY U WRITE IT ITS SO CAPTIVATING I CANT

So yes thats all i wanted PLEASE DO CONSIDER 🙏

It will get me through my exams 😔🔫

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part two

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, suggestive content ✦ Spoiler: none

A/N: Aw that is so cute! You know what? Why not? I really fell in love with the revolver too. I had to think of something to continue it but see for yourself, I hope you like it sweetie. PS: I hope everything goes well with your studies <3

wordcount: 2488

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: wudus6

Everything before your eyes appears as if you're looking through a curtain. Time passes more slowly, every touch seems both intense and unreal, but you feel the desire.

There is nothing but desire... the thirst for more.

Light as a feather, you feel as if you are not even in control of your body. But that's not a problem. You enjoy every second, no matter how blurred everything seems to you.

Perhaps because you know that it is nothing more than just a desire. Your movements are rhythmic and you try to intensify the feeling with every thrust, but there are limits to how much you can feel.

Your options are small but you are grateful for what is in front of you.

You can dimly see the lust shining in Ace's eyes, while barely feeling his hands on your hips as they guide you into bliss. Your mind is constantly shifting between lucid yet dazed and one moment you are riding him while the next his lips are caressing yours.

Full of pleasure you close your eyes, your voice says 'more' but you don't feel your lips moving and although your eyes are closed, it gets brighter and brighter behind your eyelids…

You groan in annoyance as you pull the covers over your head. Damn that sucks. This isn't the first dream you've had about Ace, but it's never been as intense as this one.

You cannot escape the images of the things that happened between you and you keep dreaming about that night on the beach. A whole week has passed since then and you and Ace are far from what you could have become and whose fault is it?

Yep, yours.

The angry wiggle in bed gets you nowhere, but you are so annoyed by the situation that you have to let it out.

After your fit of rage, you look up at the ceiling of your room in defeat. Slight dark circles adorn your face because it takes half an eternity for your brain to finally shut up. You don't even want to think about Ace and when you are surrounded by complete silence, his face automatically appears before your eyes. You've spent a few nights tossing and turning in your bed because every time you close your eyes you see him. No matter how tired you were, you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

You tousle your hair. Your ego is so big that you would rather die than approach Ace.

You wonder why you reacted the way you did. After your night, you woke up alone in your room and even though you didn't expect him to be lying next to you, you wished for it.

Loneliness engulfed you and as lonely as you felt, the more you didn't want him to get near you. You felt so available and that's a pretty strange feeling for you… Would it have been different if you had woken up next to him?

You'll never know.

As usual you gave him the cold shoulder but this time you had an additional reason... but somehow you feel a bit childish about it now.

Your thoughts are spinning around. What is your reason anyway? The answer seems to secretly pile up inside you and that makes you nervous.

Should you really have reacted like this? You haven't said a single word to each other. Okay, you haven't said a single word to him… At least he tried, you have to give him that, but after 3 days he had given up. He just leaves you alone and doesn't even get on your "nerves" like before. Nothing nada

Somewhat sadly, you pull your knees towards you and put your head down. You can only blame yourself.

You idiot!

If it wasn't for Jozu, you would probably never have come out of your cabin. He actually managed to get you out of the room.

Well, he more or less dragged you out. He just barged into your room, came up to you without saying a word and grabbed you by the neck. You noticed him, but you didn't have the strength in your bones to really react.

Somewhat belatedly you grab him by his bulky arm but every attempt is in vain and when you realized, that he wanted to leave your room with you, all alarm bells rang in your head.

Like a wild animal, you tried to escape from his grip but no matter how much you scratched him or how hard you hissed, he wouldn't budge. You feisty thing. Without paying the slightest attention to you, he brought you onto the deck and although you were brought here rather roughly, he set you down on the ground with care.

"Touch me like that again and…!!!!!" You are caught off guard when your mouth is suddenly covered with tape; you hadn't expected that. You can only grumble in anger and your eyebrows furrow up furiously as you look up at your commander.

"Hah your stare can't do anything to me you stupid ass!" He makes fun of you while he ties your arms and legs and you have no chance to resist.

The big man took a step back as he watched you wobble pathetically back and forth. You try to free yourself because you are beginning to feel that you are in a critical situation.

Your strength returns and the ropes loosen. Jozu doesn't hesitate any longer and immediately ties you up completely from head to toe, which looks ridiculous. Like a mummy, with only your head free, he leaned you against the ship's mast.

From behind you, you hear Ace apparently going through something similar as you and suddenly he is thrown to the ground in front of you by Marco. He wasn't set down as gently as you were, and with a pained look he rubs his cheek, which has just kissed the ground.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Confused, he looks at the men in front of him who just look down at him with stern expressions and folded arms. Jozu's eyes wandered over to you and Ace's eyes followed his. With shock written all over his face, he looked at you with widened eyes.

Without commenting, he looked back at the two commanders and then Marco broke the silence.

"What have you done Ace." Marco's voice seemed a little threatening. Astonishment spread across Ace's face.

"ME?" Startled, he pointed his own finger at his chest. "I have done NOTHING!" He defends himself with a slightly raised voice.

You want to laugh out loud but the tape stops you.

"I don't know what happened between you, but one thing is clear and that is that the two of you have something to sort out!" Jozu lays out the facts.

"You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you're constantly setting yourself on fire and even if it doesn't hurt you, it's affecting the people around you." His gaze went to you as he noticed your muffled laughter. "And you? We don't even need to talk about you, y/n. But let me refresh your memory. First you shouted at Ace, then you didn't say a word to ANYONE and then you didn't come out of your room for two whole DAYS!!!" The commander breathes in and out, somewhat exhausted.

You weren't even aware that you were behaving outrageously, but now that Jozu has reminded you, you can't deny it. Ace is bothering you and you are bothering him.

Marco touches his forehead, somewhat distraught.

"Listen, if Newgate gets wind of this, he'll talk to you… is that what you want?!" You both shake your heads in panic at the same time.

"I thought so." - "Ace, you were last with y/n that night and she's been so nasty ever since. Did something happen between you?" Jozu interjects.

He exhales a little helplessly and drops his shoulders.

"hahhh, I don't know… I thought we had a good time but the next day everything was different than I thought and that's why I wanted to talk to her to find out what I did wrong!" He turns to you and for the first time you see a look on his face that you never expected to see. He looks angry with a hint of confusion.

"But SHE doesn't want to talk!" he points his finger at you like a child. Offended, you grimace. Luckily, the tape is stuck to your lips because no matter what you would have said, it wouldn't have made any sense anyway. You're so irrational that you don't even recognize yourself.

The two standing men looked at each other and nodded. You and Ace don't quite understand what's happening now, but you'll find out soon enough.

Marco grabbed Ace by the shoulder and led him ahead of him. Ace doesn't really resist and starts to move. When Jozu approached you, you didn't want to leave the stage without a fight. You tried to move like a worm to escape from your commander and even though he admires your efforts, there's no point in trying to escape, because you're just as fast as a worm - not at all. Jozu has an easy time with you and throws you over his shoulder.

The two of them threw you into a prison cell made of sea stone and before they locked the cell, Jozu freed you from your full body bondage. You are glad that your mouth is free again because now you can finally let out all the bad words you have left for Jozu.

"You son of a bitch! Just wait until I'm out of here, then you'll be given a bloody surprise… I'm telling you!"

But you idiot threw yourself against the bars to grab the big man, forgetting that the bars are made of sea stone and that you now have the power of a devil fruit that you still have to get used to.

The energy sapping feeling in your body is sudden, overwhelming and slowly you go down to the ground.

While the men walk away from the cell, Marco shouts something back to you.

"You stay in there until you've sorted this out!" Grinding your teeth, you roll onto your back with the last ounce of your strength and close your eyes.

If I can't see him, then he's not there...

Yeah, exactly, that will work… You don't really believe that, do you?

"Hey… I'll leave you alone if you want, but the others are right. We take it out on the others and that's not okay. We're a crew…" The word crew makes you open your eyes without wanting to.

You sigh in annoyance and roll onto your side so that Ace can stare at your back.

"Yea, maybe. Leave me alone." Your stubbornness is driving Ace crazy, but he doesn't really want you to be like this with each other. Above all, he wants to know why you're like this to him. What did he do wrong?

He's been racking his brains for days about what he could have done or said that upset you so much. He wants to make things better if you would let him.

"If you're not going to talk to me, at least take the bed. Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good." You have no idea what kind of cheap trick that is. Is he trying to get you to sleep in a bed with him? You look back towards the bed but Ace isn't there. He's sitting next to the bed with his back against the wall.

Unexpectedly, disappointment spreads through you. Wait a minute? Is that what you secretly wanted?

A little confused, you stand up and stop in front of Ace, who looks up at you. His unkempt hair falls back slightly as he looks up at you. How you would like to swallow your pride and fall into his arms, but you have no idea where to start. You don't know what to say because you don't even quite understand what is wrong with you. So you say nothing and stare at him with tired eyes as he sits in front of you with one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.

Ace doesn't quite know how to react, but he's not one to do nothing.

He stands up just a few centimeters away from you and now you are the one looking up at him.

His gaze scans your face for answers that you can't even give yourself.

"What have I done?" he whispers to you. His pained voice tears apart your heart. You didn't know Ace could sound so vulnerable.

"I…, I don't know." you mumble your words, but your gaze remains fixed on Ace.

You have no further answer for Ace and walk towards the bed and lie down with your back to him again.

"Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good…" You repeat Ace's words back to him, feeling less pathetic since he said it first.

You listen closely as you can make out the sound of his feet approaching the bed. His shadow falls on the wall, which you stare at, waiting to see what comes next.

You feel the mattress go down a little and you automatically hold your breath until you can hear your heartbeat.

Ace looks down at your slender figure. His eyes wander over your delicate curves. He would love to stroke your hips until you fall asleep, but he's not sure how far he can go without making a mistake... but he has a feeling that doing nothing would be a mistake too.

He decides to lie down with his chest against your back. Lying on his back doesn't really work, there wouldn't be enough room and back to back would be awkward. He really makes an effort not to touch you unnecessarily. He's already glad that you offered him the bed.

You try to calm down, but Ace's breathing gives you goose bumps on the back of your neck. You pinch your eyes shut and try to concentrate on Ace's warmth, hoping you'll be able to fall asleep soon.

Luckily for you, you quickly find your way to the land of dreams because with Ace behind you, one could say; he's no longer buzzing around in your head...

Masterlist

Stay tuned for the next Part babes <3

➽ Next chapter

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Conner and bizarro finally meet

on a random lonely day in the Kansas country side, Conner is rocking in a rocking chair reading a book lex got him. it's a big fat comic collection about this guy who works with the FDA for some reason and he's honestly just enthralled. there's a whoosh sound and suddenly Jason and bizarro appear, Jason has his arm over the shoulder of bizarro as he waves over to Conner. Conner is pretty confused who the other guy is.

Conner: hi Jason, who's with you?

Jason: oh this is bizarro, he's kind of my son.

Conner: since when?

Jason: since ages, lex basically was going to kill him but we accidentally broke him out of his containment. long story short he's here he's my son.

bizarro: *waves* bye! I'm bizarro

Conner: hi bizarro

Jason: don't mind him he's words are a bit backwards, something about the programming didn't quite work. all negative verbs and such are positives and all positives are negatives. we are working on it right buddy?

bizarro: I'm resting on it!

Jason: speech therapy is hard, he's perfectly normal he just has some mixed up brain functions. lex actually managed to reverse alot of the degenerative disease problems, so you know bizarro is just struggling with a few things. he's doing way better than before though right buddy?

bizarro: I'm not fine, I'm doing bad! red is doing a bad job

Jason: aw, thanks. I try, we really have to work on the negative verbs, but it's fine we can try again later. anyway I wanted you to meet your brother bizarro!

Conner: *holds out hand* nice to meet you bizarro, what do you like to do?

bizarro: I hate… reading books and watching movies, it’s not fun.

Conner: oh! I love reading books, I have some if you want one.

bizarro: I’m not interested, I hate reading. No thanks!

Conner: wait here I’ll go get one!

Conner runs into the house to go grab some books, he didn’t really know he had a brother but this was kinda cool. Even if it came out of nowhere.

Conner: I have.. Julia Gillard’s cookbook, pride and prejudice, moby dick, and.. bionicules? Honestly I don’t think I’ll read them again so you can have them, my gift!

Bizarro looks at Conner and smiles, he takes the books and starts reading them on the floor of the patio.

Jason: I know I should have called you, but we never have the chance to meet up.

Conner: it’s fine, honestly. I was just reading some comics, been a long week. Just wanted to soak up some sun, since Lex was nagging me about it.

Jason: Lex??

Conner: oh I didn’t tell you, yeah we are kinda trying to fix things between us. I think it has something to do with the whole kryptonite induced cancer, thing. He surprisingly actually does not mean any harm to me, it's so weird.

Jason: damn, even Lex of all people is trying to mend his relationships. Never thought I’d see the day.

Conner: oh it was weird, he came up to the house and actually apologised to me. Lex. APOLOGISED

Jason: NO WAY, I don’t believe you *crosses arms*

Connor: I wish I had it on tape, but no he did. It was so weird, then he told me he actually was pregnant with me.

Jason: wait… *murmurs* when would that have been.

Conner: oh a couple years ago as I’m about 4-5 now.

Jason: oh yeah he did basically disappear for a whole year one year, kinda thought he had some sort of horrible injury or assassin on his tail. Didn’t really think he was having you?

Connor: honestly I would not know, because again didn’t exist yet.

Jason: that’s actually around the time bizarro was made actually, well a year or 2 beforehand.

Connor: yeah makes sense, wait. bizarro is older than me?

bizarro: I'm younger than other superman.

Connor: true I do think your older than me, does lex keep saying anything about dissolving DNA to you guys?

Jason: on yeah that's what originally happened to biz over here, right buddy?

bizarro: me DNA re- reconsti- reconstituted.

Connor: oh damn, that most be why he is motherhen'ing so bad. "you really should be checking for it every 2 weeks" as lex says to me fortnightly now. ugh annoying.

Jason: really? guess I'll take his advice that does unironically sound like a good idea. Connor, well this has been nice. but we have to go or we are going to miss family dinner. see ya

Connor: honestly nice that you dropped by, nice to meet you bizarro!

bizarro: hi other superman!

Connor: you can call me Kon if you like

bizarro: hi Kon!

Connor: see you both enjoy the books! I'm sure bizarro will enjoy them

Jason: oh totally pride and prejudice is my favourite, I was looking for a copy for biz actually it's a wonderful gift, nice seeing you! see you next time for the space pirates?

Connor: always, those fucking space pirates though

bizarro: I love space pirates, they are the best

Connor: lol you're so right, bye guys!!

bizarro + Jason: bye!!!!

prev | current | next

[a-bucket-of-trash]

Kelvin “military analysis” - Sons of the Forest

First rant: Everyone talk about how sad is that Kelvin is not entering to a cave with us, but dude... there is a good reason. He is DEAF, right? So his main way to avoid dangers is by SIGHT. Hell, he point the damn mutants way easier than us.

How in hell he will do anything inside a cave if WE BARELY CAN SEE SHIT? Half of the times inside caves, we have to HEAR the mutants because is dark af. Now, if the main Kelvin’s sense is his eyes, he, in a cave, will be not only full useless but also dangerous for him and to us.

Kelvin inside a cave is like he being deaf AND blind. Go and play in a cave with mutants, deaf and blind, without weapons, and see how long you will last.

He stay outside because is the logic action. He is not enough braindead to enter in a cave.

But now, what matters: what kind of soldier is Kelvin?

Someone point that in the opening, Fisheye and us are looking the info in the pc as Kelvin is chilling listening to music.

My theory is: Squads tend to have different “specialities” with different skills, which come extremely handy in a situation like in the game.  

Fisheye have part of his face covered. Usually, members of the Infantry would cover their faces to protect their identity in front of strangers. He is covered inside the helicopter can maybe be a hint of he being a “stranger” with any other member of the team (just like others members are covered too).

We don’t know if we are covered or not, but our skills on combat and weapons could be a hint that we are also Infantry. Plus, that both, as Infantry, be learning about the mission in the flight, at minutes to “deploy” is just a way to say “We are just muscles and guns, as soon we know how the subjects look, the rest don’t matter. We are here to shoot, kill and leave to our respective previous squads”. We are basic fight dogs.

Also, very high chances their (and our) names (Fisheye and Kelvin) are not real names, but codenames (Military call signs) based in the NATO phonetic alphabet (Each codename of each member start with a different letter to make it easier. F is Fisher, K is Kelvin, which it can be used in the trackers, so we can spot more easily the different members of the squad in the island).

Interesting fact, in some places, like the United Kingdom military, these letters also can tell what specialities they have. Fisheye use the F of Foxtrot/ Foxhound, this last one used to sign Infantry.

As also internet says about Kelvin: “His true name is speculated to be Robert, as he often appears in the game files as Rob or Robbie and in the game console as Robby.”

But our boy “Kelvin” is uncovered and chilling. That mean 2 basic things:

1 - Uncovered units are the ones who had to interact face to face with civilians. High chances he is one in charge of mediate with the Pufftons.

2 - He is not paying attention to the info in the pc, neither to the audible orders. The only reason to him to don’t pay attention is the fact that HE KNOWS the info. We are a militar squad rescuing a rich family, they will get the best of the best, so they will not get a lazy random Kelvin in the team. He is useful to the mision. He chills because he know the Pufftons already, knows the map (since he is not looking at it), and he knows the orders. Is not a civilian, or he wouldn’t have militar clothes, neither the previous info, neither will using the K Tag.

Now let’s add the fact that he doesn’t fight in the game, at all. He aims, run, hide, but don’t fight. But he do gather a lot, run fast, fish where is no fishes (lol) and find sticks in the nowhere.  

Putting his highly possible brain injury a little aside (which not only made him temporarily deaf and mute, but also could reduce a lot his capabilities), we can now speculate that his specialty is not in combat, is not from the Infantry because he don’t fight (not even as a instinct, many soldiers keep their fight reflex even after years out the field).

His skills in gather and build, carring logs for hours, even with his brain damage, can be a hint that his basic training was as Quartermaster. Hear this definition: The Quartermaster Corps officer plans and directs the activities of Army units and organizations engaged in the acquisition, receipt, storage, preservation, and issue of equipment, repair parts, fortification/construction material, subsistence, petroleum products, water, and other general supplies.

And his “chilling instead watch the info” can be a hint that he is now from some branch related to Intelligence or Logistics.

So, my theory is: Robert ak Kelvin - Logistics Quartermaster Officer with a Degree in Brain Injury.

And I love him.

[gz-missfit]

So I wanna talk about tazercraft cause their characters are so incredibly interesting to me in the best way possible. To preface this I don't speak a word of Portuguese (I'm learning tho! And have been picking up on sentences a lot more) and my native language isn't English so I may get some things wrong and if I do feel free to correct me!

More under the cut:

I'll put this in 3 separate parts, them individually and then their dynamic!

Mike:

Mike is interesting to me, he's definitely the outward instigator of the 2 when it comes to causing trouble and as many have already pointed out the brains behind a lot of it! He's managed to master the create mod in ways I genuinely never expected them to be used and it's a cute way to say that mine (his wife) was also a cause of that as the goddess of creation. To move to his personality more he's definitely the lead talker in the duo, he's a lot more confident in his voice and speaking in comparison to Pac and can often seem like the lead of the duo, tho this is the cause for people missing his weaknesses! Mike is not a fighter, far from that actually, he freezes in danger and fumbles. His hand tremble when he holds a sword and sees mobs closing in and when big threats appear his whole body turns into ice. He gets overstimulated by danger he couldn't prepare for or was the cause of. Just to name 2 examples here, the first is in the dungeon on the day the timer ran out you could hear him panic, he was a lot more shaky and especially his sword being the cause of injuries to his friends is what made that worse, it went so far that he even typed in chat that he was overwhelmed (fun fact to note is that through all of that he basically vanished from pacs pov but I'll get to that). Another example is when the code showed up to him and pac to drop Richas cow head to them, he later on explicitly state having frozen in fear to i think Fit if i remember correctly and even when ttt was typed in the chat and pac had jumped down to follow Richas to make sure he could teleport Mike was again, nowhere to be seen.

His fear of a fight that revolves around his family and death especially is so interesting to me cause it's obvious that a lot of that comes from Richas first death and how he still blames himself for it, the fear of failing his loved ones again being set deep into his bones whenever a danger for their lives comes up. This is why the prison stream actually was even more interesting to me than I initially expected, because his personality in that sense took a complete 180! Now it's been shown time and time again that Mike has an intense distaste of the federation and hasn't been fond of them for a long time, he's incredibly hostile to them and not scared at all when threatened by them to the point where it's a game for him and he's retaliated with threats that could lead to a ban for him multiple times. Before I move on I think the reason as to why this is is because the federation never showed to kill or take lives, I think that's why Mike has a lot more confidence in confronting them rather than things that have shown to be fatal with all intention of killing. Back to the prison though, Mike's personality to threats definitely took a turn in there, from the moment we saw him he looked pissed beyond believe and his tone was always threatening and almost mocking, his mind quickly was set on getting him and pac out as soon as possible and the realization that Walter Bob, someone who both have seen be the first federation worker that showed them kindness and an interest in what they do after willingly showing up for a haircut is what devastated him. Mike sees Walter as a close friend due to that and it showed because as soon as the realization of Walters long term treatment hit him he did everything to protect the worker he maybe met a handful of times, you could see him get more and more agitated the more the guards hit him and ironically enough I think if Walter hadn't been there idk if he would've killed the guard, but he was so set on finally setting Walter free as well as make sure Pac doesn't have to relive the past they shared that he was willing to do everything to get those 3 out and that all is perfectly encapsulated by his behavior once Walter got taken again, Mike wasn't sad or distraught like Pac was, no, he was fucking fuming to the point where he didn't respond to Pac. Ya know, the person he talks to 24/7 and that's attached to his hip to the point where most of their words are shared telepathically above all. It was obvious that he was angry beyond believe and I'm sure he's got a lot more plans up his sleeve now to get revenge. Cause if there's one thing about Mike it's definitely that you do not want him as your enemy. He may be an outwardly social guy who is definitely more focused on making people laugh and showing off the things he and Pac created but he's still a fugitive and would destroy the world for those he holds dear as they help him feel stronger in the moments where fear does get the better of him.

Pac:

Pac is honestly incredibly fascinating just due to how many levels his character has. He's outwardly the person that appears more shy in comparison to Mike and stumbles as well as gets flustered quick. This has also been the main cause of people seeing him as a weaker player (which also got added onto by how during the earlier days he'd be the one to die a lot) which in turn has caused an interesting dynamic between him and a bunch of the others players because he's far from that. Pac is full on the brawns when it comes to situations that mean fighting for someone's life, his brain goes into focus mode once a life is on the line and there's many examples to show that! Which is why I find it so funny that he often gets handed things due to seeming and behaving weaker than he actually is (main example here being etoiles who not only gave him a custom diamond sword early on which Pac has kept to this day but also the Scythe which he nowadays uses as his only weapon).

Now to the examples of how he can very much carry his own weight In fights and how fascinating it is to watch him, the first big show of him effortlessly carrying himself and doing his best to support others was during the timer dungeon, he was at the front with Bad,Etoiles and Cellbit and even when a lot less geared than those 3 with a weapon that did a lot less damage he didn't go down once even tho he wasn't even holding a totem at any point. It's genuinely impressive with how well he carried himself through that and used movement to attack big groups of mobs from behind only to have vanished out of their sight again before they could corner him. The only time he got truly cornered was at a point where even Etoiles had to back up a little and ended up next to him and the way Pac casually mentioned being fine only to instantly jump at the opportunity of humor through small talk sticks in my brain to this day due to him having stayed mainly silent the whole time before that. The 2 other examples are about Richas and how quick Pac is to defend his son, like I mentioned before when the Code showed up to him, Mike and Richas, Pac instantly jumped into aggressive, he wanted to hit it but fell due to underestimating the jump and as soon as he laid eyes in Richas he became Pacs priority sticking to his sons side until he was Tp'd away and only then returning to the Platform. The same thing happened during the dinner! Every parent except for him crashed when the codes revealed themselves and as much as Richas was quick to start running the speed at which Pac laid eyes on the egg and started to follow right next to him was genuinely mind blowing, he stood at that elevator once Richas left ready to die if it came to it just to make sure one of those things didn't follow him, and as soon as Mike relogged he became Pacs priority with the latter hovering around him will he was loading in.

Now to compare this to the behavior in prison is interesting. Pacs still as good as ever when it comes to putting on a persona to get what he wants but I do believe that the prison brought up a lot of trauma for him, from what I know his time in prison was a lot worse than Mike's and you could hear that through his voice throughout the whole stream. Pacs a physical fighter not a mental one. But in the end he still has that survival instinct, he still knows he needs to get out to protect his family and he doesn't want to be separated from his other half and best friend anymore so he plays sly. The way he stole the keys from the guard genuinely is the most slick maneuver ever and his ability to portrait his behavior in an exaggerated way that makes him seem like no threat at all has worked in his favor multiple times during this too. He was definitely suffering through that whole experience but his determination to protect the ones he loved still slipped through, his hesitancy when he called to the guards not to hit his friends only to have his voice go small once he was physically threatened. He's not at all comfortable when he doesn't have anything to fight back with. Pacs underestimated A LOT, he let's himself be pushed around for bits with a smile and definitely enjoys appearing a bit dumber and less skilled than he is just due to the perks of it and not really caring for bragging about fighting skills when he'd rather show off the project he and Mike have spent time on, only those with a keen eye can see how he's got the heart of a fighter (Etoiles being the first to vocally call this out) he's not weak by any means and definitely a lot smarter than he'd ever admit. He'd die to protect his family and the ones he cares about and would never back down if push came to shove for them.

To sum this all up and not make this too long (which it already is pfff) for both of them together their dynamic is very clearly the "do not separate" but funnily enough Mike is the one who definitely leans onto that more. During each fight where he panicked, got overwhelmed and/or froze he was missing from Pacs pov, they were split apart and it was Mike who was terrified of not being able to hold his own, the same happened in the prison just differently. In the prison Mike definitely put on a cold facade but it broke everytime he asked if they could share the same cell, the underlying fear of him having to fight alone lacing his words through moments like that. This doesn't mean that Pac isn't the same tho! He's just less outwardly vocal about it in comparison and shows it more through actions and looks. It was obvious to hear his distress when he called Mike's name in prison but his constant turning around to see where the other is and his hesitancy to go into areas that implied separation are what showed how hes just as scared as Mike is about loosing the other.

To go more into headcanon and theories I'd like to think of the 2 as 2 hearts and a shared soul, their telepathic communication is borderline Canon at this point and it's obvious that the thought or implications of being separated doesn't sit well at all with either of them. Their bodies and life's are separate but they're still connected by a soul. And whether that's shown through jokes like not being able to be in one spot without the other or through genuine things like Mike having to remind Pac that only he can hear him unless he uses his voice or their ability to flawlessly work around the other is up to interpretation of each viewer in my opinion but there's something to be said about the fact that without the other they'd never had the determination or confidence to get out of that prison, that without the other their weaknesses would show a lot more and end up causing a lot bigger of a struggle than they currently are. Without the other they wouldn't feel whole.

[tideswept]

Obikin pretty woman au 😏😏😏😏

anon, this has been in my inbox for ages. just. torturing me. tempting me. winking lasciviously at me.

and I have to ask myself every time I come across it, do I really want to write another prostitute!Anakin AU? Does it have to be Anakin? And in my heart of hearts, I know that the answer is yes, and I should accept it. Because damn, could he pull off the outfits.

but I dunno. I'm weird? I like to do weird things? also never actually adapted a movie to a fic? Not yet anyway.

(Practical Magical AU fic, when will it be your turn?)

so I think

.....

okay, let the brain percolate

I think it should be Anakin who finds Obi-Wan. Who is just. He's had a bad day, okay? Like, fantastically fucking bad, big rich money business deals, he's stressed and tired of being the Negotiator but lives are at stake here, employees who need to keep their jobs, so he has to swallow back the stress--but he's been swallowing back that stress for years now.

He's tired.

He didn't mean to just walk out of the 5-star hotel. What he needed was a drink, and not the kind they served at the hotel bar, charging 50 credits for a shot. No, he needs it cheap and dirty and burning on the way down.

"Shit, you look awful," the voice says, and a body sits down next to him on the curb. Normally Obi-Wan wouldn't appreciate a stranger appearing out of nowhere and getting so close to him, but this stranger smells nice, actually. And they're warm, whereas he seems to have lost his jacket at some point between the first and third bar.

"You can't be out here like this, you know? Gonna get mugged and left for dead."

The voice is young enough that it bothers Obi-Wan. And that's how he meets Anakin Skywalker, who's also tired, except he's only twenty-two and hasn't been further than a hundred miles from where he was born. Anakin's got a black eye because he got a fight with a nerfherder and he's not that bothered, some people think that's hot. It's not really going to cut into his profits.

He lights up and offers the death stick to the strange, classy man that definitely shouldn't be sitting on the street after midnight on that liminal strip of road where respectable turns to grimy, and pulls off his high heeled boots and tucks them to the side, switching them over for practical running shoes he keeps in his bag.

Obi-Wan just sort of stares. And then takes the death stick. And for some reason, he's just drunk enough that he starts talking about the shit day he's had, and the even worse week he's about to have.

Anakin snorts and makes catty comments that have Obi-Wan smiling, because that's exactly what he's too polite to say. Too much the Negotiator.

"God," Anakin says after the death stick has long crumbled to ashes. "You need either a serious marathon fuck or drugs. Maybe both. And then to quit your job and do something that doesn't make you want to die."

And Obi-Wan thinks that's the greatest idea he's ever heard.

"Are you--" he nods at the boots. They're rather unmistakable in purpose. And the boy is hardly dressed for the cold night.

"If you're a cop, no," Anakin answers. "If you're asking for how much for the night, you're too fucking drunk, my guy, and I'm too tired to get vomited on. You want me to call you a car or are you just gonna sit here until someone does decide to mug you?"

Obi-Wan chooses the car.

(He comes back the next day to find Anakin. Cue the rest of the movie? CLOTHING MONTAGE. Uhhhhh Qui-Gon as the hotel clerk?)