#like....this was actually so dangerous for me because i only JUST fully snapped out of a limerent obsession

[thebloodredraven]

The "why are people criticizing romance tarot readers, I don't want to do shadow work readings" shit I saw on here a few months ago did a lot to my psyche, mostly make me realize I should not be consuming that content as much as I have been over the past few years.

I also learned that anyone who has a problem with doing shadow work or self reflection readings but obsesses over romance are probably suffering with limerence like me and that snapped me tf awake

Edit: also what the FUCK do you mean "if this pile just sounds like it's describing yourself, that just means your person is mirroring you!!" NO???? THAT MEANS YOU NEED TO FOCUS ON YOURSELF BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHING ELSE WHY ARE WE SAYING THIS TO IMPRESSIONABLE PEOPLE

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 27

Wc:3213 Masterpost CW: Hospitalization, discussions of temporary character deaths

The hospital was pure chaos. Reporters were at the door, police were at the reporters to stay back, and the Waynes were pacing.

None of them had wanted to be left behind, not with this, so as soon as those who had been playing hero changed, they all headed for the hospital. Bruce had met them in a waiting room that had been cleared out for their use. There were benefits to having a wing named after one’s father.

“Clear,” Babs said as she and Tim finished typing on the tablets that they had brought from WE. “CTV cameras will just loop past this room.”

“There are no bugs. I’ve activated scramblers for parabolic mics or anything, not that they should be able to get to us in here anyways,” Tim said.

“What happened?” Steph asked, looking to Bruce.

Bruce looked to Dick. The rest of the eyes followed.

Dick sighed.

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I believe we are past that, Richard,” Damian snapped.

“Why don’t you start with a debrief of tonight,” Bruce coached.

“I was almost in suit when Babs came over the comms, telling us they took Danny. I started to look for suspicious vehicles given the time frame. I wasn’t successful at spotting anything before the…” Dick was really glad that Jason was back with Danny and not here listening to this. “…before the trap went off. I saw one of the buildings go dark.

"Cass joined me. We took out the henchmen at the van and leading into the building. Based on intel, I headed straight for the basement. The place was flooded an inch or two deep. They broke the sprinkler valve, I believe. Danny was tied to a metal chair bolted in the middle of the room. A wire had been tapped into the circuit breaker and was at Danny’s feet. His shoes were off.”

Dick swallowed hard and let his arms drop to his side. That urge to punch something was still there. He flexed his hands and then purposefully relaxed them.

“I was sure he was dead, but when I called out his name he moved. I made sure the circuit breaker was off, disconnected the wire, and went to him. He was…” Dick snorted, shaking his head. “He was making jokes. He was conscious but not fully lucid. Confusion, slurred words, panic. He didn’t want to be taken to the hospital. He thought they would cut him open if ‘they knew’. I was able to convince him to come by saying we’d get Leslie and that we’d protect him.”

Damian scoffed. “Of course we will.”

“Case?” Cass signed, face scrunched up in question.

“And asked Alfred to bring a case, one that Jason put in the Cave that Danny gave him,” Dick confirmed.

“What’s in it?” Tim asked.

Dick just shook his head.

“He’s a Meta, isn’t he?” Duke asked. The question was quiet, but it felt loud in the tense air of the waiting room. He wasn’t staring at the ground rather than any of them. “Something new. Maybe something dangerous or, worse, something useful. It’s why he’s afraid they’ll cut him open.”

Steph cussed and turned to punch the wall only to be stopped by Tim.

“Is he?” Tim asked.

It seemed like there was no getting out of this question. “’Close enough’ was the way it was put when I stumbled in on… the secret.”

“Are his powers electricity based?” Babs asked. “Is that how he survived?”

Dick laughed. The bitter sound made a few of the others flinch or grimace.

“No, opposite, really. He’s weak to it. I think they only got him because they used tasers and it really knocks him out.” I’m so sorry, Danny, Dick thought. “Danny… Danny’s been electrocuted before when he was a kid. It killed him, however briefly. Really… I’m not sure if it didn’t actually kill him again tonight.”

This time Tim didn’t stop Stephanie from punching the wall.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dr. Thompkins said as she peeled off her gloves.

Danny just glared at the IV in his hand that had been carefully tapped down and put under a mesh glove.

“It’s like she doesn’t trust me,” Danny whispered loudly to Jason.

“She’s right not to,” Jason said.

Danny pouted at him.

“Fish,” Jason said with a wet chuckle. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, which seemed to soothe him. “You said loudly and repeatedly that you were going to go out the window as soon as she stopped watching you or if she took your blood or if she put the IV in.”

“She did take it,” Danny whined.

“I did,” Leslie said, “and I also promised you no one else would get a hold of your blood and I meant it. I need a baseline for you though. It’s my job now to make sure that you’re well.”

“And no clones,” Danny said.

“And no clones,” Leslie said.

She shot Jason a look who just shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know enough about what went down with that to answer her questions.

Leslie gave up with a sigh. “You really went and found someone who fit right in with the family craziness I see.”

“Nah, Doc, he goes above and beyond.”

“Well… that should make for an interesting file.”

Danny flinched at that, hard enough for Leslie to notice and stop what she was doing.

“Danny, listen to me,” Leslie said. She waited until Danny met her eyes to continue. “No one else will see the file. It’s encrypted by Oracle, Batman’s tech person, and that’s understating them. I need to keep a file so that I can treat you and keep you healthy, that’s all.”

“No experiments,” Danny croaked.

Jason wanted to punch someone again.

“No experiments,” Leslie promised.

Danny gave a little nod, turned away from her, and all but climbed into Jason’s lap.

“Make sure he doesn’t pull that IV out,” Leslie ordered and went back to making her notes.

Not long after Jason had gotten him and Danny settled into the hospital bed, there was a knock at the door. Jason’s hand went immediately to the scalpel that Leslie had generously pretended not to notice Jason palming earlier. It didn’t matter that it was a knock Jason recognized, he wasn’t taking any chances with Danny right then.

Jason only relaxed when Dick had stepped fully through the door alone.

“Hey Danny, how are you doing?”

“Leslie took my blood.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Dick said. He was smiling, words cheerful, but Jason could see the cracks in his brother’s facade. “Alfred is going to be here in just a moment with the case. Can I send him in when he arrives? Or I can bring it myself? Or any of us. We’re all out there.”

Danny turned his head enough to be able to peer at Dick with one eye. “You’re worried.”

“Yeah, little fish, we’re all pretty worried. We care about you,” Dick said gently.

Jason resisted the urge to kiss Danny’s pout away as he shifted his gaze from Dick to Leslie.

“Can they come in?” Danny asked.

Leslie pursed her lips. “Only for a half hour. After that, it’s only Jason and one other allowed at a time and that’s only because I want Jason to try to get some rest too. Whoever else is in here is on a minimum two hour shift so not to wake you up every five minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dick chirped.

“And tell them to keep it calm,” Leslie called after Dick as he slipped back out the door. She sighed and shook her head before focusing back on Danny. “Now, there will be nurses who come in.”

“Noooo,” Danny whined.

“Yes,” Leslie said. “They’ll just be taking your blood pressure, which they’ll know to expect to be low, and changing out your saline and pain medication. I’ll be back in the morning myself to check on your burns. Everyone who steps foot in this room will be approved by Bruce and I. Someone from the family will be with you the whole time, you’ll be safe in every way.”

Danny’s pout deepened before he sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Danny. Now please try to rest after the group leaves, both of you.”

“Sure, Doc,” Jason answered and sent her a smile. He’d have to do something to help her clinic out soon, she really went above and beyond for them tonight. He managed to get Danny turned around so that his boyfriend wasn’t buried face first into his pecs before his family invaded.

It seemed like everyone was really trying to listen to Leslie and they all filed in orderly and tucked themselves onto the couch and chairs and each other. Bruce and Alfred stayed standing.

“Hi guys,” Danny said with a wobbly smile.

Some of the family flinched at how ruined Danny’s voice sounded. The flinches weren’t obvious to be noticed by anyone by a Bat, except maybe for Duke’s, but they still happened and Jason noticed. They all looked wrecked, really, in various ways. One would almost think they had been the ones kidnapped and murdered tonight.

It was Jason’s turn to flinch at his own thoughts. Greedily, he soothed himself by pressing a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“Hi Danny,” Duke said back. “How are you?”

“You know, feeling a little extra crispy,” he joked.

The room seemed to lose all the air for a moment before Tim groaned. “God, there are two of them now. No wonder you’re dating Jason, you have the same morbid sense of humor.”

The tension in the room broke and Barbie even laughed. (They all ignored how the laugh was a little too tinged with hysteria to be truly happy.)

Alfred cleared his throat and stepped forward. “The case, Master Jason.”

“Ooh, is that…” Danny asked, zeroing in on the case.

“Yep,” Jason confirmed, popping the ‘p’.

Danny held out his arms, making grabby hands at the case. Alfred raised a brow, looking to Jason for permission, before he moved forward and handed over the case. Jason rested his hand on the lid before Danny could open it.

“So,” Jason started. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “no one freak out, okay? What’s in the case isn’t what it looks like. And… and we’ll explain?”

He wasn’t sure if they would.

He wasn’t sure if they could afford not to.

“We’ll explain,” Danny confirmed.

“Okay, Jay-lad,” Bruce agreed, though Jason could tell he didn’t know what he was agreeing to, other than trusting his son.

Jason took a breath and removed his hand. Danny flipped the lid open. It was innocuous at first, a simple black padded case. Then Danny plucked out one of the glowing, Lazarus green ectoshots and the stances of several Bats shifted.

“That is—” Damian started.

“Nope,” Jason interrupted.

“Jay—” Bruce rumbled.

“I’m sure,” Jason said. He glanced at Cass. “Really.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Tim asked, sounding a little strangled.

“Drink it,” Danny answered.

“Drink it?!”

Danny’s nose wrinkled. “Does everyone in this room have issues with that— what did you call it— Pit water?”

“Pit water or Lazarus water,” Jason said. He calmly ran his fingers through Danny’s hair as he made sure to not have a reaction to the ectoshots. Danny needed to drink them, he couldn’t have any of it spilled from misplaced panic. “And a lot of us, yeah. It’s… been a thing. My situation didn’t help any.”

Tim frowned at the vial, clearly itching to get his hands on it. “If that’s not Lazarus water, what is it?”

“Ectoplasm,” Danny sing songed and then just downed the vial to the wince of the room. A shudder ran through his body before he slumped bonelessly against Jason.

Jason plucked the empty vial from Danny’s limp fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, and put it back in the case. “From best we can think without getting our hands on Lazarus water, they’re a bit related, but ectoplasm is a pure source where as whatever Lazarus water is, it’s fucked up. Beyond that, I think…”

Jason sighed and buried his face in the top of Danny’s head. He didn’t know how to explain the next part to his family. He didn’t know how to tell them he was still, at least a little, dead. He didn’t want to hurt them like that.

“Ectoplasm isn’t a miracle cure, not like it sounds they use Lazarus water for,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “Doesn’t work for normal people.”

“Does it work for you because you’re a meta?” Duke asked. The sympathy in his voice was hard to hear.

Danny’s laugh wasn’t any easier to hear. “Nope! I mean, like, sure how you count Superman as a meta I’m a meta, I guess. More a different species.”

Steph made an incredulous noise. “You’re an alien?”

“I wish,” Danny snickered. “I’m dead.”

“That is not funny, Nightingale,” Damian snapped.

Jason peered up at his bristling little brother. Demon brat really was already attached to Danny. “He’s not trying to be funny, Dami. Danny is half dead or, rather, half ghost.”

“Okay, which of your parents fucked a ghost?”

“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised.

“Sorry Alfie,” Stephanie mumbled under Danny’s snickering.

At least having almost died (again) tonight saved Danny from being admonished too.

“Ancient, no, my parents hate ghosts,” Danny said.

“But you’re half ghost,” Babs pointed out, gently.

“Yeah. And there’s a reason that I changed my last name and don’t talk to them anymore, not that they know,” Danny said. He stretched out his arms, arching like a cat. Clearly the ectoshot was starting to have an effect. “No, I’m half dead ‘cause I died and then didn’t.”

“You’ve died before, Danny?” Bruce asked, voice carefully gentle in that way he used only when talking to his kids or those who were basically family through his kids.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “It was, um, don’t like talking about it. It’s a ghost thing. But my parents built a portal to the ghost’s realm to try and study them. It didn’t work, not at first. I stepped in it, tripped, hit the on button and bam… ten thousand volts of electricity later and I’m dead.”

Tim and Cass both reached out to stop Steph from moving.

“Thing is, the portal turned on,” Danny continued. “So I also got pure ectoplasm shot right through me. It brought me back, kinda. I’m a halfa; half ghost and half human. Half dead and half alive.”

“You’ve died by electricity before,” Bruce said into the silence of the room.

“Probably died again to it tonight,” Danny said with a casualness that had Jason tightening his arms around Danny. Danny just giggled. “But like I told Dick, I’m immune now.”

“You know,” Barbie said. She narrowed her eyes as Danny shrugged before she glanced to Dick. “And you knew.”

Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Little wing?”

“Go ahead, Dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve connected all the dots now,” Jason said. Maybe it would be easier, no, smoother if Dick explained it. He was better at hiding his anger.

Though by the way Dick had to shift on his feet, maybe not. “I… I think I have. Then you’re…?”

Jason nodded.

“Fuck!” Dick twisted and paced to the door and back again.

“Master Richard!”

“Don’t be so harsh, Alfie,” Jason said. He couldn’t make Dick be the one to tell them; that had been a selfish hope. “Dick just put two and two together that if the ectoshots only help Danny because he’s dead—”

“Part dead,” Danny chimed in brightly.

“—then that means I’m still part dead too.”

“Jay-lad?” Bruce prompted after a tense moment, voice rough.

Jason just smiled sadly. “The Pits healed me. It sorta… filled in the cracks, but it couldn’t fix that whatever brought me back didn’t bring all of me back… or couldn’t bring all of me back. I think that’s part of why the Pits had such a hold on me. Not that it’s an excuse, but just… whatever. Point is, I’m a halfa too, even if I’m still healing enough to be a proper one.”

The family practically curled around each other in grief. Dick tucked Damian against his side. Tim slumped into Steph and Cass. Steph reached out to squeeze Bab’s hand. Bruce took an aborted step towards them. Even Alfred raised a hand to his mouth.

“I’m alright,” Jason assured them.

“You’re still dead!” Dick snapped.

“I’m half alive, that’s more than I was before,” Jason pointed out.

Dick hunched into himself at that, prompting Damian to give Dick an awkward looking hug.

“What all does that mean, being a halfa?” Bruce asked. He held up a hand as he paused and took a measured breath. “I don’t mean that as an interrogation. Right now, what’s important for us to know to make sure you’re both healthy? Or is there anything that we should avoid doing?”

Jason snorted. He appreciated the clarification, the attempt at being gentle, he did, but, “I know you want to know more than that.”

Bruce smiled, though the expression was more mocking himself than anything. “Of course I do. You know me, chum, I don’t do good with only pieces of information, but right now I’m not the important one. I can deal with some… unease so that we can focus on you and Danny.”

“Danny should drink at least another ectoshot in a bit. They help us heal as halfas. Dick knows because there was an incident where I got stabbed. Danny sensed my distress and showed up to give me an ectoshot. I had called Dick already. Which means Danny also knows about everything.”

“Danny sensed your distress?” Tim asked.

“It’s a ghost thing,” Jason said with a shrug, unsure how to really explain it. “It comes from ghosts having cores which are sort of their central organ.”

“You core?” Cass asked, clearly struggling to verbalize right then with how her nose wrinkled.

“I do. Or, I’m getting more of one. Because the Pits put me back together badly I was really messed up.”

“It’s coming in well,” Danny said sleepily. He yawned wildly (a little too widely) and turned to bury his face into Jason’s chest. “Pretty lava core too. It’s good to have close for healing. It’s warm and lovely.”

Jason snorted and kissed the top of Danny’s head. “Go to sleep if you can. You’ll need lots of rest.”

Danny huffed a mumbled protest, but Jason could tell that Danny was fading fast.

“We’ll talk more later, Jay-lad,” Bruce said as he finally let himself come close to help Danny and Jason better settle into the hospital bed to sleep.

“Yeah,” Jason said as he fought his own yawn as the head of the bed lowered. “Have to have Danny show you his ghost form, it’s really something.”

Tim echoed ‘ghost form’ quietly in the background as Alfred murmured something to the group.

“Do you want myself or Dick here for the first shift?” Bruce asked.

“Stay?” Jason asked. His eyes dropped closed as his dad ran a hand through his hair.

“Always.”

---

AN: a very tired taaaaaada. They got the bulk of the explanation! Though still things to learn and talk about. I was going to put in more bits, but this felt full the way it was! Next chapter more answers, more questions, and someone shows up.

I no longer tag people but you can subscribe on the masterpost.

[viviennevermillion]

late night snack

✧ synopsis: you find your hungry captain in the ship's kitchen at 1am. you decide to have mercy on him and make him a meal.

✧ contains: luffy x gn!reader, ambiguous relationship (bc honestly luffy is so aroace-coded to me), cuddles, cooking as a bonding experience, 2.1k words

✧ now playing: johnny boy (instrumental) — santiano

✧ warnings: none

"Luffy, I'm almost too afraid to ask, but what exactly is it you're trying to do?"

It was the dead of the night and you originally just planned to make a quick trip to the kitchen and back for a glass of juice. After all, everyone was already sleeping and there were no disturbances in sight. Considering the plethora of instances that had you running away from marines or getting into fights with other pirates, that was a blessing to be fully taken advantage off. So you were looking forward to let the swaying of the ship on the waves lull you back into the land of dreams and find solace in the soft sound of light rain meeting the Going Merry.

But you found that when you entered the kitchen, you were not alone. And wherever your captain was, adventure was never far behind. This time "adventure" came in the form of a fire hazard frying pan with food in it taped to the kitchen wall with Luffy's rubber arm holding onto the wooden spoon. Luffy himself was standing on the other side of the room, his arm stretched all the way across the kitchen.

"Oh hi!", he exclaimed, happy to see you, then started to explain his current predicament, "well you see, Sanji refused to make me some food because it is 1am and I said 'Sanji, please' and he groaned 'make it yourself'. So I thought 'hey, that's actually not a bad idea!'"

"I don't like where this is going, but go on", you let out a sigh but could hardly be mad at him for the chaos he had caused in the kitchen, given the way he was looking at you with such a pure smile. "So, given that this was my first time cooking anything, my first attempt didn't work out as I intended to", he continued, "so I wanted to clean up the kitchen so Sanji wouldn't get mad, but you see, the spoon got stuck to the frying pan and I can't remove it even with my devil fruit powers." He still looked so carefree explaining this, that you couldn't help but envy him for his seemingly complete lack of stress and anxiety.

You stepped closer to the pan to see how he managed to get the wooden spoon stuck on it. You looked back and forth between the pan and your smiling captain, blinking in disbelief a couple of times. "I really don't get what I did wrong, I did exactly what the cookbook said", Luffy went on, "it said caramelize the onions-"

You stopped him right there, gesturing to the frying pan. "So let me just confirm this: you threw a whole fish and three whole onions into the pan and put caramel on it... and from the looks of it mozzarella?" Luffy nodded. "Sanji always said that being a chef also means you can be creative with the food you make and I thought that sounded really fun!", he stemmed his hands into his hips. "You look way too proud of this", you raised an eyebrow with concern written on your face, sending a silent prayer to whatever was out there to hear you. Keep my captain safe, never let him near a stove unsupervised.

You gently removed his fist from the spoon, hearing his rubber arm snap back to its natural length. "You're lucky you're cute...", you sighed and removed the pan from the wall, putting it aside with a slightly painful smile on your face, "this is a Sanji problem."

Even though you had a soft spot for him, or perhaps especially because of it, you felt the need to remind Luffy of the dangers of cooking with 0 experience. "Please be more careful next time... you could have caused a fire on the ship", you turned around to speak to him only to find he was no longer where he had been standing just seconds ago. You looked around the room and found him rummaging through the fridge again. "I'm still hungry", he pouted. You could even hear his stomach growling. For the sake of him and everyone else you decided it was better to not let him go to bed hungry and risk waking up to the final inferno that would annihilate all seas.

"If I make you something, will you help me prepare the ingredients and clean up the kitchen?", you sighed but you looked up in surprise when you found Luffy in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and pressing his cheek to your shoulder. "Yes, thank you, you're the best!", he exclaimed and you couldn't help but smile, wrapping your arms around your captain as well and running your fingers through his soft hair. His hug felt warm and comforting and you almost didn't want to let go yet, but reminded yourself that you had promised to make him some food.

So you went over to the fridge and the pile of ingredients that Luffy had already dragged out of it and checked what you could make with the stuff you had. "I suppose I could make some wraps", you reasoned and started organizing the ingredients. "Ooh, fill mine with lots of meat please!", Luffy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rocking back and forth with excitement. "Sure thing", you smiled back at him and tossed him the salad. "Can you wash this and cut a few leaves of it into small stripes?", you asked and Luffy nodded, getting up from the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

"Right... it needs to be washed", he repeated slowly as if this had been a major enlightenment to him. "Good lord...", you whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at the mental image of what could have happened if you hadn't prevented him from making another 'Luffy original'. "Also, I noticed the oil was still in the cupboard, did you not use it when you tried to fry your fish?", you asked out of curiosity. Luffy shrugged. "I didn't know you had to put oil, I thought any liquid worked." You took a deep breath. "What did you put?" "Ketchup."

Despite everything, Luffy did a pretty good job following your instructions; after all, he had properly cut the salad, tomatoes and pulled the ground beef apart. "Cutting vegetables is harder than I thought", you just heard him mumble and turned around to find him staring at you with helplessness in his eyes, holding up his bleeding pointer finger.

"Yeah that's my fault, I should have seen that coming...", you sighed and opened a kitchen drawer to pull out the bandaids. "There you go", you said after putting the bandaid on Luffy's finger. He looked down at his finger, now covered in a black bandaid with a pirate skull on it and you just quietly heard him mumble something about a 'battle scar'.

"Sunshine, I think the tomato clearly won that one", you raised an eyebrow, preparing the meat for the wraps on the stove. "There'll be a rematch", Luffy informed you in a motivated tone. "Sure, tell that to Sanji tomorrow, I'm sure he's going to think that's a splendid idea", you chuckled. "Yeah, I will!", Luffy smiled at you. You laughed and went on to show Luffy how to prepare the beef.

He looked over your shoulder with his chin rested on it, watching what you did closely. He seemed curious and fascinated by how different cooking worked from what he originally thought. You leaned your head against his and heard him yawn. Luffy wrapped his arms around you again, nuzzling your neck with his eyes closed. "Hey, don't go falling asleep on me now, you don't want to miss your meal right?", you reminded him and he yawned again, nodding. "Don't worry, 'm awake", he mumbled with a tired voice.

Having him cling to you like this, peacefully resting on your shoulder, made you almost disappointed when the meat was finally done.

"This is great!", Luffy exclaimed with his mouth stuffed full of food after you had handed him two wraps, "thank you so much for the food!" You quietly enjoyed your own wrap, smiling at the situation. Luffy had a way of making every encounter the two of you had one without regrets, even if it involved cooking at 1am. As long as he was happy, you were content.

After finishing your late night snack, both of you decided it was time for a small break so you settled down on the couch, holding Luffy in your arms. You were laying on your back, your head propped up by a pillow, while your captain was resting on your chest with a satisfied smile on his face. He looks so cute, you thought, playing with his hair.

Luffy let out another yawn and you soon noticed he was drifting off to sleep. He looked so peaceful sleeping in your embrace and you cupped his cheek gently, pressing a soft goodnight kiss to his forehead. This was the night you found out that Luffy was a sleep-talker. "...Meat", he'd mumble and you smiled, deciding it would be cruel to get up now to wash the dishes and risk waking him up. Maybe you'd manage to get up in the morning before Sanji would wake up. This is worth it, Sanji will understand, you reasoned with yourself with perhaps a little too much optimism, something you suspected may have rubbed off on you from Luffy.

"Back in Windmill Village, they considered me a meat philosopher", Luffy mumbled in his sleep and it took you two minutes to suppress a laugh.

This man is an experience, you bit your lip to hold back your wheezing, burying your face in your hands. You just had to ask him to elaborate on this once he'd wake up. You shook your head with a bright smile on your face. Your fingers started gently drawing circles on Luffy's back, causing him to try and snuggle even closer in his sleep. Once you had recovered from your captain's sleep-talking endeavors, tiredness soon caught up to you and you drifted off to sleep, still holding onto Luffy. It was a peaceful night indeed.

But the peace was never meant to last. Once the sun had risen, you wake up to an angry "Luffy!" echoing through the kitchen. Luffy's eyes fluttered open and he promptly sat up. "Oh, good morning Sanji", he called out with a happy expression, stretching his limbs. Your ship's cook had a threatening smile on his face. "Don't 'good morning Sanji' me, what the fuck did you two do to my kitchen?"

"I helped y/n make food", Luffy explained, proud of his contribution. "I can see that", Sanji grabbed the caramel abomination from the kitchen counter and held it up, "this pan is literally ruined." You sat up as well and raised your hands. "In my defense, this was all his doing. I wasn't here to prevent this."

Luffy looked at you from the side. "Ratting me out like this... I thought we were in this together", he pouted and rested his chin on his knees. "Nuh-uh", you shook your head, "I'm not taking responsibility for Satan's first edible plague... then again I don't think you can even call this edible." "Technically almost everything is edible", Luffy gave you a thumbs-up.

"Dishes. Now."

You got up very fast after discovering that Sanji was not messing around. That was the day you two got sentenced to dish-washing duty for the next 3 weeks. Originally it was supposed to be one week, but you may or may not have gotten into a foam fight with Luffy, leaving the kitchen in an even bigger mess.

"This reminds me of my job at Baratie. Good times", Luffy was reminiscing. "You didn't have 'a job', you had to do the dishes because you couldn't pay for what looked like your last supper", you reminded him. "And I only broke 5 of them", he proudly informed you.

You couldn't help but laugh, Luffy joining in not soon after. You were once again reminded why you would never regret joining this crew. If someone could make even washing dishes fun and make you happy like this, you'd be damned to not keep him in your life. Luffy was like the sun, brightening up each day since you had met him; even the darkest of them. He looked up and caught you smiling at him from the side.

"What's the matter?", he asked, smiling back.

"Just thinking about how happy I am to have met you."

[transformers-spike]

Random!Blitzwing vore, but it's actually a glorified cunnilingus. Yes you gotta put this on the internet for everyone to see

Idk what to say. I personally don't do vore, but I know for a fact Blitzwing's random personality is into that (even if he doesn't know what it is) So here. Come get your mush

Inside the mines you were exploring just a minute ago, you shoot Blitzwing an exasperated glare as he brings you to his eye level. The face before you is a horror movie amalgamation of shadow creature and Tumblr Sexyman, razor sharp teeth cocked into a smile. “Can’t you just let me go?” you say, having experienced the same situation for the third time this week. Nothing has been clearly established yet, but considering the many occasions he’s fingerbanged you, you’re sure your fragile human self must mean something to the giant killing machine. Admittedly, judging by the overexcited grin he’s giving you, things are bound to get weird unless his other faces intervene. He tilts his head at you like a hungry tiger observing the mouse he just caught.

“Now why would I do that?” he asks, accent thick and clear. You have to remind yourself it’s because there’s something wrong with his translator, not that he’s a giant robot built by German officials to destroy Detroit and all its inhabitants as payback for the Second World War.

You point at the metal behemoth approaching through the mine’s entrance, far enough for you to look like a spec in Blitzwing’s hand, and you wonder for a moment if it’s safer for Blitzwing to splatter you against the wall or wait until his pal gets his two massive claws on you. In a moment of pure, unperturbed genius, Blitzwing flings you into his mouth like a kid chucking a bubblegum ball.

Whirling in the air doing a full, dizzying 360, you land face first against a squishy metal mass you assume to be his tongue. It’s too dark to see anything, the kind of pitch blackness only present in underground caverns. So, you do the right thing and fish out the flashlight you brought specifically to explore the mine before your giant robot bitch plucked you from the ground. Flicking it on, you realize this could very well be a cave if it wasn’t for the stench of motor oil and exhaustion fluid prying your nostrils open. You wheeze and sputter, burying your nose in your sleeve as your teary eyes try to make sense of the other two paths perpendicular to your own, separated by a huge dark gullet at the center, deeper than the Mariana Trench. It’s then it actually hits you; “Oh shit, I forgot about the other two heads.”

Then the tongue below you starts to squirm like a worm being plucked out of the dirt.

You fall back on your ass and push yourself as far away from that thing as humanly possible, up until your shoulders hit the back of his teeth. There’s a commotion outside, and try as you might, you can’t catch his attention by banging against the inside of his mouth while yelling “GET ME OUT OF HERE I DON’T WANT TO GET PROBED BY YOUR TENTACLE TONGUE!”

The lack of an answer leaves you vulnerable to the apparatus rubbing up against your legs. You snap them shut as hard as you can, but you’ve clearly underestimated its alien determination. With an impressive if not outright criminal prehensility, it slips into your pants. Hentai flashbacks fill your mind with a giant DANGER sign pulsing bright red. You try to kick it away and conceal the arousal, leaving you especially hot in the desert that is his mouth – humiliation growing as your attempts falter and you spread your thighs just a bit to let it slip down to your entrance.

You’re going to tear Blitzwing piece by piece with your bare hands once you get out of here, but for now you can only squeeze your eyes shut and whimper as it enters you over and over again, fully aware of the embarrassing wetness having built up when he first caught you sneaking around the place. You throw your head back and groan, forgoing any form of dignity as you fuck yourself with his tongue, meeting every movement of his with jubilation.

As the noises die down behind you, you drill through your second rock bottom by taking off your pants and underwear. You tuck them under your arms like the world’s saddest security blanket and bite your lip as the tongue drags across your stomach and back to your crotch before slipping back in for just a second…

Before Blitzwing’s mouth opens up and he pulls you out. Dripping with your own fluids, the expression of shock on your face is replaced with one of righteous fury – then shame – then fury again.

“You…” you falter, red in the face, “you fucking degenerate.”

[ivystoryweaver]

3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 2 of 5: Gun

previous || Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: Jake creates a second chance to get the job done

Or: Will you get a new toy to play with?

Word Count: 1.8k

Content: Read all series warnings on the miniseries masterlist! nsfw, mdni, more below the cut

Part 2: Power imbalance, kidnapping, violence, language, stalking, very extremely dirty gun play, danger, masturbation, not beta'd

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A week passed before you left your penthouse.

Jake’s boss was not a patient man, but Jake convinced him that you were unreachable for a few days, and that he was on it. He sent new surveillance pictures to calm the man down, assuring him he would take care of the problem.

He wanted to wait longer. You were hurt, after all. No way you’d completely recovered from a stab wound, but you seemed determined to get back to your life. Of course, why did he care if you were fully recovered or still hurting if he was only looking for another opportunity to kill you?

Unfortunately, your inept bodyguards Dumb and Dumber added a third. So…Dumb and Dumber and Dumbest?

He only made things worse for himself for letting you live, but you got under his skin, plain and simple.

Another week passed before he could get you alone again, and it took practically 24/7 stalking to find his moment.

So…he had definitely descended into creep behavior.

Time to get this over with.

He found you in the park again, walking instead of jogging this time. Maybe your side still hurt.

The Dummies lingered close by, but Jake could handle a challenge.

He walked right by you with a nonchalant stroll, and pushed a gun into your (not wounded) side, ushering you into his car before your idiot bodyguards could react.

Despite your fantasies about this man over the past two weeks, terror flooded your body as he steered with one hand and held you at gunpoint with his other.

His clean shaven face momentarily distracted you - perhaps his first intelligent decision. He should at least try to hide from your father, and even a slight alteration to his appearance could prove helpful. His strong, sharp jawline and pliable lips made him seem simultaneously more approachable and somehow deadlier.

“Got your present,” he smoothly intoned. The corner of his mouth curled. “Brought you a new one to play with.”

“Okay. Okay,” you gasped, holding out your hands defensively. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working, all right? Just…do what you’re gonna do. You're scaring the shit out of me.”

Jake tutted, but kept his eyes on the road. “You really have a death wish, don’t you, Princesa?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat. “My father calls me that. His princess.”

Probably not a great idea to bring up your father to the man who wanted revenge against him.

Jake held his tongue, driving in silence for another few minutes. Finally he pulled the car into a parking garage and drove down the bottom level, below street level, before turning off the engine and looking over at you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you with a certain tenderness in his coffee colored eyes, as if he actually might care.

“What? Why the fuck do you care how I’m feeling?” You snapped. “You have a gun in my face and you stabbed me. I feel like shit. Like - terrified, impatient shit, thank you very much.”

“There it is,” he appreciatively chuckled. “I didn’t think one little stab wound would turn you into a damsel.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you clapped back, feigning courage. “Shooting someone is a hard crime to cover up. But I’m sure you know that because you look like the kind of asshole who does my father’s dirty work. You really want me splattered all over the inside of this piece of shit you call a car?”

Jake shoved the barrel of his gun right between your eyes. “You’re calling my car a piece of shit? That’s reason enough to pull the trigger, muñeca. We don’t all have daddy’s blood money to buy us toys.”

Despite your feistiness, a loaded gun between your eyes did give you pause. Your lips trembled as Jake dragged the gun down your nose to your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the fullness of your parted, panting lips with his weapon. “Shame I have to kill you.”

If someone paid you a billion dollars, you would never be able to puzzle out why you did it: but your tongue darted out to lick the barrel of his gun.

Jake locked eyes with you as you swirled your tongue around the cool metal. “You know how to use one of these, baby?” He purred, pushing the gun into your mouth.

You nodded slightly, body trembling as you wrapped your lips around the barrel, accepting it all the way to the back of your throat until you gagged.

Jake groaned, easing the gun back toward your lips, almost completely removing it from your mouth before fucking it back into your wet, waiting cavern. You started to bob your head, sucking the weapon like a cock, eyes locked on his as he shoved it over and over again…

…to the back of your throat, gagging you, to the front of your lips until drool spilled out the corners of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he rasped, finally removing the offending metal from you completely.

Your lust-soaked panties didn’t prevent you from collapsing in a small measure of relief after your wild but dangerous display. He could have blown your head off, even by accident, and still probably intended to.

“You didn’t answer me,” he chided, using the gun’s barrel to lift your chin back up, forcing you to look at him. “I can see you know how to use that pretty mouth, but do you know how to use this?”

Shaking your head quickly, you wanted to scream as he condescendingly chuckled. “Of course not. You are a princess. Here.” Shoving the thing into your trembling fingers, he made sure to turn on the safety. He reached for your opposite hand, correctly positioning your grip in his gloved hands.

“Two hands, like this,” he instructed. “No action movie bullshit.”

His eyebrows shot up, waiting for you to respond. You slowly nodded.

“It’s loaded, but - " Positioning your finger by the safety, he showed you how to use it correctly. “Safety first. Don’t ever take the safety off unless you have a plan to get rid of a body.”

“Why?” You gasped, your hands dipping under the weight of the weapon as he finally removed his own. “How do you know I won’t shoot you?”

And he smiled. “I don’t.”

“I will,” you huffed, shoving the gun into his chest. “I’ll do it.”

Jake wet his lips, his eyes darkening as he cocked his head to the side. “Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me.”

“You asshole - "

“You started this,” he lowly growled, “by sending me that knife instead of giving it to daddy.” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in, his breath ghosting your lips. “I bet you shove this gun in your pussy the way you let me shove it into your mouth,” he taunted, slowly reaching up to put his hand over yours before pushing the gun down between your legs.

You whimpered, thinking this was it. He was about to shoot you right now.

“Safety’s on, baby,” he leaned in and breathed on your ear, pushing the gun lower until it rested over your panties.

“You’re wet right now, aren’t you?” He taunted, slowly rubbing the gun back and forth.

“Dammit, I knew you were a pervert,” you whispered, unable to muster a convincing amount of guile.

Jake immediately removed his hands, holding them up as if surrendering. “I’m never going to touch you like that until you ask me to.”

“I’ll fucking kill you first,” You growled, shoving the gun back into his chest.

He easily disarmed you, pointing the gun right at your head. “Get out.”

Shit. Shit, this was it. “I-if those are my last words, I can do better.”

He actually laughed. “Get the fuck out.”

He waited until you opened the car door before deftly removing the magazine and tossing the pieces out behind you. “Keep it. Someone’s trying to kill you.”

Reaching over to close the door, he peeled out of the parking garage, leaving you there alone. And armed. Sort of.

“Asshole!” You screamed after him.

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You dreaded your bodyguards questioning where you went and why you suddenly had possession of a weapon. But when they finally got your call, you decided to turn the tables, letting them know that if your father found out you were missing today, on their watch, he would use the gun in your hand to put holes in the backs of their heads.

They left you alone.

You were reeling by the time you got back to your penthouse, but inevitably, nighttime came.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The smooth velvet of his voice echoed in your head. “Good girl…I bet you shove it in your pussy…”

You weren’t about to shove a loaded gun anywhere in your body, so you left the magazine out and took off all your clothes, sliding under the sheets.

“Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me..”

You dragged the barrel of the gun across your hard nipples, just the way you played with the knife. The simple memory of his voice had you soaked already.

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered into the dark, somehow wishing he could hear you as you plunged the gun’s barrel into your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck…” The metal wasn’t as forgiving as one of your toys, but your pussy clenched and quivered just the same, knowing he predicted you would fuck yourself with his weapon - that he hoped you would.

With two fingers, you circled your clit, wishing you could pant his name as you writhed and fucked down harder, but…

you still didn’t know him.

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Jake waited a few days, wondering if you’d send the gun back to him, covered in your juices, but maybe you’d wised up. If you had any sense at all, you’d give it to the police, but he was certain you wouldn’t.

His employer was growing impatient.

And even Jake didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet...except that seeing you sent a thrill jolting through him he couldn't understand.

But time to get this shit done or it would be him at the bottom of the river. The fire in your voice as you snapped back at him like a wounded animal...the memory of the rise and fall of your breasts as you pretended not be afraid of him - the misplaced desire in you to be brave, even though no one in your life cared enough to teach you basic self-defense or how to handle a firearm... You were not the victim here. Your family made victims. He couldn't be your savior.

It was you or him.

So no more games.

next

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Jake Lockley-Centric stories

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[dollgxtz]

I’m not the same anon that asked about reader having PPD. But I read your reply to their question, and I want to ask: what if reader DOES end up snapping and hurting the baby (or perhaps even killing it)? would he hate her? How would he react? I’ve studied this matter a bit and I’ve found out that mothers getting aggressive with children that tie them down to abusive or unhealthy relationships is in fact much more common than we think. Alot of mothers abandon their child when they escape these relationships too. It’s all because they can’t help but think of those traumatic events every time they see their child. So, yeah. What would happen if she does end up hurting the child severely, or even killing them? (either in a state of psychosis or when she snaps, or intentionally)

TW: CHILD DEATH

(Heed the warning!!! Don’t click read more if this triggers you!)

I think Yan!Sylus would be heartbroken, angry, and desperate to rationalize why Reader would do such a thing to their precious baby. But make no mistake, he would never actually let it get to the point where she would manage to kill the baby. He would notice the signs and act accordingly, as he’s a very observant man.

In the event that she did kill baby though, hypothetically, you can imagine this would be one of those times he’d fully release his anger onto Reader. Not physically harming her to the point of killing, but he would be so heartbroken that he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool for once.

After his anger was gone he’d likely rationalize in his head what happened. Probably end up blaming himself, and then just…start the process over (impregnating her again), this time vowing to be more attentive and just separate baby. He still wants a family, and if that means baby can’t be with mom for awhile then so be it. (As fucked as that sounds, it’s very in character for the Yan!Sylus I’m portraying.)

Also, in his mind, he can’t ever let her go now as she’s a danger not only to herself but to others clearly. So he’d take it upon himself to take the burden of caring for Reader, forever. Because despite what she’s done, he can’t stop loving her. His own messed up psyche won’t let him stop caring about her even he wanted to.

Pretty sad and tragic. The only reason I’m even typing this out is because that is definitely not an ending that I would ever make, the murder of children is like a huge no no for me in my own personal writing. Miscarriages, stillborns are fine but murder of children? Breaks my heart too much 💔

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Okay so consider!!!

Yandere platonic Geralt!! Generally very cool!! Very nice!! But if you fuck up you have to deal with (what you have dubbed) the get along cuff. Which is literally him just making you sleep next to him and tying your leg to his with a bit of leather cord. It’s thin so he can easily snap it if there’s a danger, but he’ll wake up if you move it.

Also Jaskier being completely fine and okay with this would be hilarious, I would love to see you write a scenerio!! (Idk why but I picture a modern reader, like one who got dropped in the Witcher from the modern world)

I love this ask!! I also love the trope of a modern character in a medieval setting, I think it was all the ‘Modern Girl IN Middle Earth’ fanfics I read (an actual tag on ao3) so I have a weakness for it!! Also Jaskier just going ‘eh’ is so funny to me.

Warnings: forced proximity, captivity, kidnapping, some level of being infantalized, being tied to another person as a form of being restrained, future Stockholm syndrome. Jaskier is complicit, up to you whether he is also a yandere or not. Also the fact Geralt can smell emotions

“You know this could be like, an actual danger?”

You try and reason your way out of your situation, like reason has ever worked on Geralt before. He ignores you, mostly, concentrating on tying the knot around your wrist in a manner that you cannot undo the knot but it also didn’t cut off your circulation. He slips a finger under the cord, testing the knot and the cords strength, and you hear him make a satisfied rumble. You were still getting used to that, to the various sounds the Witcher made to express emotion.

“No it’s not. The cord’s thin, and if I have to fight I can snap it easily. Plus this area doesn’t normally have monsters, not this time of year.”

He stands, towering over you from you spot on the ground, near the fire, and you tilt your face up. The yellow light throws his features into a harsh countenance, makes his face all angles and scars, golden eyes reflecting the light the way a predators would as he glared down at you, scowling. You tighten your fingers in the wool cloak he had given you, so long ago, the fibers catching in your nails.

He must see something in your gaze, or maybe it’s the way you know you probably reek of anxiety right now, but his stance softens, the scowl melting away into something softer, not a smile because you knew he was still very, very upset with you, but not a harsh frown that made you feel small and stupid and like all the things he thought about you were true.

He crouches, making himself smaller next to you, and you feel your shoulders start to unwind. It was strange, being around someone who was so perceptive to your emotions, but seemingly had no clue how to address or handle them, beyond his own instincts as a Witcher and his limited interpersonal skills. His very limited interpersonal skills.

Seriously. You were pretty sure the guy only had two friends.

“You’re going to try and run again. Maybe not tonight, but I clearly can’t trust you to behave without me keeping my eye on you at all times. Since I can’t do that while I’m asleep, this is the solution.”

He motions to the thin leather cord, and you scowl, face twisting into something you know is ugly but doing it anyways. He wouldn’t be intimidated, you knew, he seemed to view you as some helpless kid, even though you were a fully grown adult who had been attending college.

“You wouldn’t have to watch me if you just let me go, Geralt. You can’t… you can’t just not let someone go home, that’s not right.”

You snap, fingers burying further into the cloak to stave off the chill that was only getting colder, creeping up your arms and legs to your torso and making you shiver. It had just gotten dark, the little fire Geralt built crackling away and too small to provide much warmth but rapidly gaining strength, and you shiver, leaning toward the fire and away from the Witcher.

“We’re not having this conversation again. You can’t survive out there on your own.”

Your face flushes, angry, and you bury your face further into the cloak. He had a point, to some extent. You weren’t used to the world of the Witcher, with its monsters and it’s hardships, weren’t used to the roughness of medieval life and all of its struggles. You were used to the modern world, where distances could be travelled by car, not horse, and you didn’t have to endure biting cold in the winter and blazing heat in the summer.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, Geralt. What kinda person would I be if I didn’t at least try to get home?” You protest, and there’s the sound of rustling, a muttered curse. Looks like Jaskier was back with wood.

“Ah. Seems I walked into a horribly tense situation.”

Jaskier remarks, but his voice is light, not taking your predicament seriously, even as his eyes land on the tether around your wrist and Geralt’s as he feeds wood into the fire, which licks up the logs and sticks eagerly, hungry for fuel. You scowl, face buried in the cloak to hide your sour mood as much as possible. Geralt didn’t care if you were pisses off or not, he cared when you were afraid not when you were mad, but Jaskier would do everything in his power to pull you out of your bad mood. From telling stories to playing little tavern songs, he would be relentless in making sure you cracked a smile at least once, and you didn’t feel like having to endure the bards attempts to cheer you up right now.

“Is tying them to you really necessary though, Geralt? They look like a kicked pup, can’t you be a bit more lenient?”

Jaskier wheedles, and wow, he might actually be your favorite person right now. You peek up from the fold of the cloak, and he’s got a hand on a hip, shifting his weight with a concerned frown. He looks entirely disapproving of the whole thing, which makes your heart soar. Maybe he would actually be able to get Geralt to listen to him.

“They’re lucky I don’t tie them on Roach all day.” Geralt grumbles, setting up the bed rolls. You could feel every small movement he made, the motion tugging gently on the thin tether.

“Oh you grump. Stop being so rude.” Jaskier huffs, sitting next to you, and you quietly despair how easily he gave in, how quickly he yielded to what Geralt wanted to do. You tuck your face back into the cloak, dejected.

“Hey now, it isn’t all bad. There are worse places to sleep. I can recall a few of them myself.”

Jaskier’s hand lands on your shoulder, and you glare, annoyed. You didn’t want company, or comfort, or any of it. You wanted one thing, and it was something that the both of them were denying you.

Jaskier, because he was Jaskier, seemingly didn’t notice. Which wasn’t the greatest.

“Yeah, sure, I guess. Never slept tied to somebody, though.” You say pointedly, and the annoyed rumble Geralt gives is almost worth it. Sharp gold eyes narrow at you slightly, before Geralt huffs, turning back to his task.

“I have! Well, it was more I had been knocked unconscious, but it still applies, I think! And those ropes were rather coarse, my wrists were aching for days!” Jaskier recalls. “Geralt had to rescue me, it was quite the adventure. I wrote a song about it, at some point, although I never published it. I really should rework that song, actually, come to think of it.”

He rambles, his voice filling the tense silence between you and Geralt, and you feel your shoulders start to relax. He was good at that, chattering to fill the silence that would drag on for hours between the two of you if it wasn’t for him. You sigh quietly, leaning into the warm hand clasped on your shoulders as the fire grows in strength, the bedrolls almost fully prepared.

“Alright. Jaskier, you take first watch, and I’ll take over in an hour or so.” There must not be many monsters around, you think, for Geralt to be so comfortable letting Jaskier take watch. Jaskier nods, slipping away your side as Geralt approaches.

“Not a problem! I was feeling wired tonight anyways, a few more hours though and I should be able to sleep well enough.” Jaskier agrees amicably. “Although I am a bit surprised, you normally insist on first watch.”

“Wanna get (Y/N) down.” Geralt huffs, and Jaskier nods.

“Fair enough, I suppose. They are criminally lacking in the sleep department, they’re beginning to get bags, poor thing.”

You scowl at Jaskier, annoyed.

“I’ve had these since middle school, first of all, not my fault I have insomnia.” You scowl, and jerk when Geralt all but drags you to the bed roll, barely waiting for you to finish talking.

“Hey!” You protests, annoyed, but he’s too busy ‘getting you settled’ as he liked to call it. Fussing over the blankets and the best roll, making sure your body was protected from the harsh winds that even the fire couldn’t stave off.

“Jaskier, stop keeping them up.” Geralt grumbles, sounding more tired than annoyed. He drags you closer, and it must be a Witcher thing to radiate heat like a furnace, because he was chasing off the cold without even trying, the same arm that you were tied to securing you against his chest.

“Pretty sure I can sleep on my own.”

You snark, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

“Not for the next week you aren’t, if that. Now go to bed.”

You scowl, glaring up at him. With the blanket over you, the fire, and the heat radiating off his body, you were tired, sure. But not tired enough not to say something, not when you were being treated like an idiot who couldn’t do anything for themselves.

“You can’t just- Geralt this isn’t right, and you know it. You can’t just- keep me here!”

You protest. Arguing with Geralt was much like arguing with a wall, honestly. Stubborn and just as likely to listen to you as the bricks that made up the walls of your old college.

But walls could come down. You just had to get through to him, make him realize that what was doing wasn’t going to work. You weren’t strong enough or fast enough to escape him, not without some clever plan or tricks up your sleeve, and you were pretty sure that an Olympic level athlete would still have issues trying to outpace him. So your only hope was getting him to listen.

It was a fragile hope, but it was the only hope you had.

“We’re not talking about this right now. Go to sleep.”

Geralt grumbles, and you open your mouth again. The warning rumble in his chest cuts you off, and you swallow.

The sound was exactly that. A warning. Geralt had never hurt you before, not really, but whenever he got mad things were miserable. Jaskier would be irritated with you for ‘putting Geralt in a mood’ as he put it, and you would be without the bard’s chattering to fill the heavy silent between you and Geralt. Not to mention the awkwardness of being forced to ride atop Roach with Geralt, the silence thick with tension between the two of you, or the way you would hope desperately for the day to end so you could go to sleep.

No, it was better to keep the Witcher happy. For all parties.

“Alright. Good night.” You finally mutter, and he sighs, the tension leaving his body. You feel his torso loosen, relaxing behind you, and you feel your hand shaking, just slightly. Or a little more than slightly. Your stomach twists, and Geralt sighs.

“I know you don’t understand. But you’ll realize this is what’s best for you.” He says it like it’s supposed to be an assurance, smoothing a hand over your hair like you’re a particularly fussy child, and you consider, for a second, twisting and biting that hand. Driving your teeth deep enough to draw blood and make him listen to you, for once.

You don’t, mainly because you know he would just move it fast enough your teeth would just snap at empty air.

You close your eyes. With the almost stifling heat behind you, and the too-heavy weight of the cord on your wrist that logically shouldn’t feel as heavy as it did, sleep does not come easy. Eventually, though, you feel your consciousness slip away into oblivion.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[dylawas-reblogs]

Larian is wrong. Gale does not have a six pack. Gale does not have abs. Let me propose what's really going on with that dude.

First, let's look at the fighting style of the wizard. Yeah, they have a quarterstaff, but those are usually a last resort defense and not a primary form of attack. You still want to have the upper body strength to swing one around that's decently enough made to not snap like a twig if you've got to defend from an axe in a pinch, so they're not light, but it's not like he's bench pressing with the thing either. He's also not twirling it like a baton, or using it in a martial manner like a monk would, but that's where the other component of a wizard's fight style comes in; casting spells.

I'm not going to pretend I fully know/understand all the intricacies of magic and spellcasting in the Forgotten Realms, I play DND but we ignore that spell component bullshit. Somatic and verbal components still matter, but material? Ppf. Fuck that. All that is to say, take what I'm gonna suggest with a heap of salt.

Pretty much every spell in existence has a somatic component, meaning you move your arms and hands in a certain way to make it happen. So wizards may not be doing much heavy lifting, but they're still moving their arms a lot. Probably having to brace themselves to cast more powerful spells, too. And you can still very much build some muscle tone even if you're not throwing around bags of sand. Gymnasts and swimmers come to mind in this particular instance. Like yes I'm sure they train in other ways (and I know they rely on core and leg strength way more) but you can't tell me none of their increased arm strength comes from doing their actual sport.

And hell, as I was typing that out, maybe wizards do have arm-specific strength building exercises they do outside of spell casting. At the very least they're doing some hyper specific things with their wrists and fingers. Violinists do finger strength building exercises. That's totally not out of the question. It's likely, really.

Posture is also important for a wizard, not just because good posture keeps you alive in most dangerous circumstances in general, but it keeps you properly balanced to cast, and cast accurately. Given Gale's reprieve from the public eye for a year, though, this aspect has admittedly probably taken a little hit, and changes in posture can change the way a body's weight is distributed. And I want to make it very clear-- I don't think this man is thin. Especially not now, not with time and age. But I also don't think he completely stopped keeping up with his spellcasting, either. He'd want to keep his mind, tongue, and fingers sharp. This man doesn't do core exercises, mind, but he probably only spent the first few... Weeks? Maybe a month or two-- wallowing. You can take the wizard out of the spells, but you can't take the spells out of the wizard. He was trained to cast with efficiency and precision, and he'll keep doing that, so his posture, and therefore core strength, wouldn't completely lapse. In short, tummy plush, but likely not round.

Now, everything beneath the belly isn't as important for a wizard's needs, so I'm going to skim past them a little to get to my conclusion, but to summarize, if he has cake it's not because he was doing squats, if his thighs are thick it's not because of muscle, and we all know this man's knees are dogshit. There's a reason one of his canon lines is, "Given my propensity towards verbosity, it surely can't be a surprise that I have a practiced tongue." Suureee bud you can use that as your excuse for being a cunning linguist instead of your knees.

In conclusion, all of this is to get to the point that Gale does not have abs. Gale is, in fact, closer to dadbod, with some pretty decent upper body strength.

Oh yeah and he's hairy. I don't make the rules sorry.

[cranberrymoons]

show me the stars

prompt: ruby (discord drabble) word count: 1,009 rated: t tags: doctor who au, eddie is the doctor, first meetings notes: this prompt only actually fits if you've watched the most recent doctor who lmao but whatevs, enjoy! (you don't have to have seen the ep for this to make sense though)

It's not like he goes looking for trouble. He never has – he’s never had to. It just finds him, whether he wants it to or not.

It’s so much a part of his life that it actually never even really occurred to him that he’s exceptionally accident-prone until he met Robin and she started complaining about the week from hell she’d been having lately. 

“Like what?” he’d asked, only half paying attention as he fiddled with the button on his ice cream scoop. It snapped back then jerked forward, sending the scoop ricocheting out of his hand and into a vat of dirty dishwater. “Fuck.”

“Like, I stubbed my toe this morning,” Robin had said. “Knocked my head getting out of the car, slipped on the floor on my way in and almost had a total wipe-out, bit my tongue during my lunch break earlier.”

And as she went on, describing a thing that basically sounded like Steve’s typical Tuesday afternoon, it started to sink in that – okay, so maybe he actually does have a few more accidents than the average guy. But what was he supposed to do? Walk around in a suit made out of bubble wrap every day? 

Impractical.

It’s a year or two later and two or three more fights lost when it finally fully smacks him in the face that he’s basically a walking disaster waiting to happen. Or rather – doesn’t smack him in the face, in the way that falling objects always seem to. 

It happens all at once, when he’s walking down the street on his way home from work one afternoon in early January. He hears a crack from overhead and looks up, just in time to see a branch falling with startling speed directly at his face. 

He gives a shout, arms coming up to cover his head as he braces for impact, but then it just – doesn’t come. He cracks open an eye and then another, and then he slowly lowers his arms. 

“Nearly got yourself killed,” says a voice from his left. He jumps. “That happen a lot?”

There’s a man leaning against the fence at the edge of the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. His hair is long and dark, and there’s a battered leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders. He pushes off and takes a step toward Steve, and Steve takes one back.

“Where did the branch go?” he asks, glancing up. Because it’s not attached to the tree anymore, but it’s also not embedded in his skull. “And where did you even come from? You weren’t there a second ago.”

The man hums. “Funny you should say that.”

Steve frowns. He doesn’t like the way the guy’s looking at him, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure him out. 

“Say what?”

“A second ago,” the man says under his breath. He reaches out and pokes a finger into Steve’s chin, and Steve flinches away on instinct. “You really do have perfect bone structure, don’t you? All square-jawed movie star mystique.”

“Okay,” Steve says, taking another step back. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, man. Just – thanks for… whatever you did. I’m just going to go on my way.”

He gets a few paces away before he hears the man’s voice from behind him again. 

“I was here a second ago,” he calls. “You’re the one who wasn’t.”

And that makes just enough not-sense that he falters in his steps and turns back. The man’s leaning again, this time against the side of a big blue box that Steve hadn’t noticed until now.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means ,” the guy says, grin flashing. He kicks his heel against the base of the box, and the door creaks open. “Come with me if you want to live.”

Steve makes a face. “Isn’t that a line from The Terminator?”

The guy frowns like he’s thinking, then he nods slowly. “Maybe,” he admits. “Even better if it is, though, because whatever’s after you is about as dangerous as Arnold Schwarzenegger was in that movie.” 

“Wasn’t he the good guy in the end?”

“No, are you serious?” the guy asks. “Have you even seen the movie?”

“Of course I’ve seen –”

“Stop,” the guy says, holding up his hands. He takes a step closer to Steve. “Do you hear that?”

And Steve… does. Actually.

It’s quiet – so quiet he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t been pointed out to him, but it’s there, a quiet scuttling sound like when you hear a mouse in the middle of the night but can’t tell exactly where it’s coming from. But they’re outside, standing on the street in broad daylight. 

The man’s hand wraps slowly around his wrist and grips tight, and Steve jerks in alarm. He hadn’t noticed how close they’d drawn together as they listened until now, and before he has a chance to wrench himself away, he’s being dragged in the direction of the weird box on the curb. He considers yelling for help – anti-kidnapping support? something? – but before he can get his lungs together, he finds himself being shoved through the open door, stumbling over his feet and screwing up his face as he braces again for impact, expecting to smash into the opposite wall of the tiny space.

But that doesn’t come either, and when he opens his eyes this time, he sucks in a breath so sharp he nearly chokes on his own throat. 

The guy slams the door and surges past him up the walkway – there’s a walkway – toward the middle of the open, cavernous room, where there’s some sort of circular control panel covered in lights and buttons and something that looks weirdly like a toaster? And he’s muttering to himself, saying nonsense under his breath as he starts poking buttons and flipping levers, and then the whole room gives a jolt, and Steve grabs onto the railing for balance. 

The guy looks up. “Pretty cool, huh?”

And Steve, breathless, has nothing to say other than, 

“What the fuck?”

[also on ao3]

[h7jfangirl]

TGS UPTADE (Chapter Cover) ✨🎩

I love this one, I think it's my favorite cover until this point.

Jekyll has his old outfit I LOVE THE REFERENCES

Guys, ITS THE OLD DESING GUYS.

When I saw this cover, my first thoughs of it weren't the most pessimist, really

The colors are soft and lighter, and the place looks beautiful and peacful, it gave me nostalgic vibes but I mostly felt... Comfort

So I though this chapter would be the star of the final redemption arc of Jekyll's and Hyde's relationship, the chapter where all their fight would finally end for good and start to actually accept themselfs and work together as a team

I interpret Hyde's expression as a "Wait what!?" Reaction to actual self-love coming from Jekyll, and read the name of this chapter as something of "We are a team! We are together in this! So if one of us goes down, we are going down together! I would never ever leave you alone!" Like a thing of friendship or Brotherhood even.

But after reading the Comment Section in the page, I finally notice that something was off in the cover, a simple detail telling that this may not be a 'end of the conflict' type of chapter

And that simple detail...

It's Jekyll

I really hope he goes insane in this chapter, like ACTUAL insanity, I love when a calm character goes through a 'madness arc' and sadly I don't see it often so I WANNA SEE SOME GOOD SHIT.

Jekyll is grabing Hyde's clothes very strongerly, you can feel the anger on his grabing and how close he puts his face towards Hyde's.

His body says "I'm about to kick this asshole's ass"

But the thing is that he is also... Smiling. You can't see his eyes but there is a shadow on them that you can tell something it's not okay, something it's wrong with Henry but not in the "Poor victim" type that we always had see him before, on the whole comic

But in "This man is dangerous" type

So, with that grin and his body looking agressive towards Hyde, you can said Edward may be in danger in this chapter.

Predictions~

Now, everybody agrees that the place we were shown it's actually part of Jekyll's mind, a memory actually. So, I think that somehow Jekyll and Edward will both go inside their memories, to see what were the events that lead them to this specific moment

Maybe with Frankestein's help, in a intent of her to understand the experiment's true nature, also trying to help Jekyll and Hyde to they can finally understand it too (THEY ARE TAKING A THERAPY SESSION TO A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL)

Or

They go both inside their own memories because the transformation got worse, and now their body is unconsious, so it would be only Jekyll and Hyde alone inside their mind, finally being able to stand in the same room at the same time, and netheir of them knowing what will happend outside, now that Frankestein knows their secret and the mob it's still out there

So of course, Henry wouldnt have someone who could help him and calm himself, so he is blaming Hyde for the situation as Hyde avoiding the accusations and also blaming Henry too. The rest of the chapter would be about them looking at their memories and reflecting about their actions

But of course, I can imagine two final scenarios happening, based on the scenario shown on the cover actually happening. They finally go together to see a old memory, and they are both close to the cliff, seeing the place

So, Henry finally has the conclusion of blaming Hyde for all the situation, and snaps angst him, deciding to end this just right there, now that he is able to touch and feel Edward's skin as if he had his own body, as a another person he can fully touch

So there is two options:

Jekyll's grabs Hyde's clothes and makes both of them jump to the water, accepting the death as a end but making sure to drag Hyde with him as well, so it feels actually worth it. Of course this being a moment similar to Hyde's ephifany when he is told that he could take down Jekyll as well.

But of course, in this case we'll see Jekyll's perspective to this words "Taking you down with me" (I love how similar they are, even if they turned out to be so different from each other, somehow they are still the same person)

Or, there is this other option. Jekyll actually dosen't jump to the cliff but instead, he shove Hyde to the cliff in a intent of murder him, being mostly like a metaphoric suicide rather than a direct one (Because they are the same person after all). The reason why Jekyll is also jumping in the cover may be a symbolic jump as "Going insane/Jumping the cliff of sanity" for doing something so brutal that the normal and sane Dr Jekyll wouldnt do... Push a person on a cliff, to kill them. So not only this would be a intent to kill Hyde but at the same time accidently murder the person he used to be, the good Dr Henry Jekyll

(Jekyll also jumping can be more like of "how he feels" rather than something literal, he feels atrap and his only company is Hyde, and I dare to say he is the person Jekyll hates the most at this point).

Of course, in any scenario, nethier of them would actually die (yet) because there is like two chapters left to finish this comic, duh

But I like to think about the Second Option. Because it could also explain those spoiler images Sage share in their social media a while ago

There it was another one with Jekyll with a lot of bottles around but I couldn't find it.

Because I think it would fit in. After pushing Hyde on the cliff Jekyll goes out and takes back the body's control and fix the angry mob problem, thinking he has done right in killing Hyde, when actually you can see that he dosen't has his normal eyes anymore but now has Hyde's bags in him (Of course, it could be for the fact that he climp up the society to get in the roof, but I don't think he would like to being seen very tired) meaning that Jekyll has change, in a more hyde-like way. Hyde is not death, and Jekyll's actions will have more consequences, as long they keep fighting each other there will be no end to their problems.

So, this is the tgs UPTADE. I like everyone in the fandom started to make theories like crazy and I love every single one of them.

Sorry for my bad english hehe bye~

[total-drama-brainrot]

Total Drama Psycho Noah AU, after the 'London Adventure' and the truth being revealed, Chris then decides to make this a reward challenge... The reward is that EVERYONE gets to be in First Class, with NOAH... Chris and Noah are curious to see, who will be brave enough to actually enter First Class, after learning about Noah's insanity... How would Courtney + Gwen + Duncan reacts to seeing the video of Noah's insane side showing? 😈 Would Alejandro and Noah still be friends? 😈

Listen, as much as this idea is so fucking funny to me, I really don't think it'd work from a storytelling perspective.

Though (not to push any agendas here, but-) if Chris were to hypothetically have the remaining contestants go against Noah in an enclosed space, in a sort of predator-vs-prey scenario, it'd probably play out something like The Beast chapter in Slay The Princess... without the "eating them alive" aspect, of course.

(Heavy Content Warning for that link, by the way. There's a lot of violence/gore/body horror, among other stuff, by virtue of it being a horror game.)

Maybe he'd lock everyone in the First Class cabin and turn off all of the room's electronics, so the only source of light in the cabin would be the wavering moonlight from whatever tiny windows are dotted around. Noah would use the cover of darkness to his advantage and toy with his competitors in a similar vein to how the Ripper had in their challenge that day, darting silently through the shadows to 'capture' his castmates, picking them off one by one.

It'd be a fun game of cat-and-mouse for Noah. For the others? It'd be a living nightmare. They wouldn't have the luxury of knowing that Noah wouldn't really hurt them, and the bloodlust they'd seen on that screen would be terrifying to watch but downright petrifying to experience first hand. They would be genuinely fearing for their lives, in a way that Chris hadn't been able to prompt since the early days of Island, and the host would love it.

Not that he would do that. And not that Noah would actually attack anyone either. (Without reason to, of course.)

But you are right about one thing; if this AU were to become a fully-fledged story, the London challenge would have to be a reward, just to keep Noah in the competition. Because he literally snapped Zeke's arms like chopsticks- his team would vote him out in a heartbeat just by virtue of him being so dangerous.

Which means the whole of Team Chris (plus Duncan) would be sharing a poorly-lit, structurally unsound cabin with someone they're terrified of.

...Owen notwithstanding, since Owen's a sweetheart and he knows Noah.

But the others would be immediately on guard around him. Noah, knowing there's no reason to keep up his ruse of sarcastic apathy, would probably relish in their fear- he enjoys tormenting people, after all, especially when that torment is purely psychological. So he'd carry on playing the 'unhinged, bloodthirsty sociopath' just to watch the others squirm.

He'd probably make a huge show of still having the Ripper's knife, tucked safely in the sleeve of his white undershirt, and comment that he and Duncan could be 'knife buddies' or something. If only to see how the punk's pierced face would drain of all colour at the prospect of Noah having a sharp object. (Duncan would absently rub at the puncture scars on his hand, to Noah's delight.)

But it'd eventually get boring, I imagine, so Noah would do something to reassure his teammates that he's not some ethics-devoid monster hellbent on destruction. Because having your teammates be in a state of constant paranoia around you would get annoying after a while, and it'd impact their performance in the competition (which Noah isn't really all that concerned with, but Owen is, so Noah doesn't want to do anything to jeopardise their chances of winning challenges).

So he'd drop the exaggeration of his more violent traits, and intentionally show off the unharmful aspects of himself- namely by koala-clinging to Owen and acting 'normally' like they'd done before the London challenge, and/or by approaching Tyler to ask how he was feeling after being stretched on the rack and sheepishly apologise for leaving him behind (showing empathy and remorse, to humanise himself n front of his teammates).

He's insane, not heartless.

As for Alejandro...? I have no idea. Would he even want to risk approaching Noah to find out if their shared comradery was all a ruse? Would whatever tentative trust he had in Noah be completely shattered by the reveal? Or would he be so engulfed by his need to win the competition that he only views this new development as a boon, since now Noah can be more of a physical asset for their team?

It'd probably be a mix of all of these. Alejandro would be left off-footed by the reveal of p!Noah's 'true self' (however much of his 'true self' he's willing to show to others) but I imagine he'd be quick to ally himself with the guy who can break bones like they're chalk and deceive a whole cast of people for two and a half seasons, regardless of any personal misgivings.

[purplerose244]

Headcanons for a Camp Camp season post-David adopting Max

(Because I got back to Camp Camp for no reason at all and it is now everyone's problem. Also apparently new episode incoming? YOOO)

WARNING THERE ARE SWEARS IN THIS BUT I MEAN IT'S CAMP CAMP SO YOU KNOW 😅

Here we go!

No one knows at first

First episode starts with something random (Idk maybe something about change that makes everyone freaking out, you know how CC goes) and the entire time there are hints, like Max arriving at Camp with David and David always being in the proximity of Max. Towards the end Max makes a half-assed comment about it

Neil: Well, I guess some things never change

Neil: This place is still pretty fucked up

Max: Yeah, this is weirder than David adopting me at the end of last summer

(pause)

Everyone: WAIT WHAT?!

Casual episodes have background scenes where David puts a hand in front of Max whenever he wants to do something dangerous, or he picks him up

Max is now enrolled in Camp Campbell for Music Camp. He is never seen actually practicing during afternoon activities, he kinda just stands on his boot, but when no one is watching, especially at night, he does play a bit. He plays a guitar that was the first birthday present he got from David

He's genuinely good, he just thinks that the others will make fun of him for specifically playing guitar and ask him what campfire songs did David teach him

He's right and the answer is ALL OF THEM

Max is back to the plan of making David snap, but the idea evolved from "no way a person can be this happy" to "no way a parent can be this happy". That's totally NOT projection of his own trauma and he DOES NOT expect David to abandon him the moment it becomes too much (wink)

THE AMOUNT OF DAD JOKES ISTG. Max is 100% sure he'll go crazy out of tree puns alone. David is fully convinced that's peak dad behavior and non-negotiable

David: I'd love to take you on a vacation to trees' favourite city!

Max: David no.

David: Montreeal!

Max: DAVID NO.

David: Why so tense, Max? Are you okay?

Max: STOP RIGHT NOW.

David: Should I... leaf you alone?

Max: *groans forever*

A full episode where David is terrified of making preferences for his son and struggles between being a counselor and a father, fearing that the others might feel left out. Ultimately it is pointed out by everyone that Max was always his favourite, therefore he was a shit about it from the beginning and no one really cares (David feels relieved and quite conflicted about this)

Whenever the campers need permission to do something dangerous and there is REALLY no other option, Max sighs and does his best "please I really wanna do this, you are my guardian right?" act. It's embarassing how quickly David caves in

An episode about being a young single father, maybe David going on a date (I'm thinking the cute waitress from the Bonquisha episode and/or the bartender guy from the town episode, just to make some comebacks), having tons in common and getting along, but not wanting to commit with someone with a son. David feels pretty lonely, but he 100% can only be with someone that accepts Max as well (also pan David my beloved 🩷💛💙)

Max discovers David's tipping point when the kid gets seriously hurt because of a stupidly dangerous adventure. Max gets scolded like he didn't think David was able to. It follows a pretty tense period where Max thinks this is it, but David is just very embarassed for snapping like that and while he thinks Max can survive more than he can, he needs him to be safe. After talking they get much closer

David has no idea how to ground someone, especially his son. Usually, when he feels like he has to, he consults Gwen or, heaven forbid, Quartermaster

An episode where the ideal camper arrives. Loves outdoors, loves activities, loves singing along and saluting the flag, so David gets excited. The entire time the campers try to figure out if Max is jealous, but he shows no sign. Obviously the camper is someone evil because this is Camp Camp, and at the end Max stomps the person with a "sorry sweetheart, I'm his favourite"

Max doesn't call him dad, David knows this and never presses him. But the kid slips sometimes and corrects himself quickly, although David never seems to notice

He actually does notice and every night he proceeds to giggle into his log pillow like a high schooler with a crush

An episode where the campers try to figure out how the whole adoption situation happened, since neither Max nor David really explained it. The hypothetical story becomes increasingly crazier and more complex, between alien invations, warlocks and internal monologues. At the end a flashback is shown of Max waiting at camp. Gwen is in the cabin, then David arrives with his cheek red and bloody

David: It took some convincing

Gwen: Oh, David...

David: I'm alright. I knew who I was dealing with, and apparently they're this aggressive only to strangers. It could've been a lot worse, and they said yes anyway

Gwen: So... now what?

David: Now? Now I'm bringing him home

David had everything ready for adoption way before meeting Max, stating that as a counselor you never know what might happen. He thinks it's commendable. Max thinks it's fucking creepy

After The Forest episode David developed a bit of feral instincts, but never really showed them. Since Max can usually defend himself better than David does, there is no need to intervene. Until Daniel comes back, and makes the mistake of kidnapping Max this time, wanting to play with David on how to find his kid. He did not know. David turns into wolf dad, literally growling and hunting for his cub. Imagine a feral David roaring and growling "WHERE THE FUCK IS MY KID DANIEL??". Suffice to say, Daniel is sent to the hospital (praying the ultra lord) and Max starts to think, between Daniel and David, maybe it's his dad the psychotic one

He doesn't mind it that much

Possible outcome is Daniel being astonished by such energy, realizing that David just won't die, and feeling something strong for him, starting to ponder if David is an reincarnation of Xemug... he is giving himself an excuse, he basically just got a crush on David. If that would turn him madder or start his redemption arc, I have no idea, but I kinda like it 😂 (actually I might make a separate post about this, I got an idea for another season sequel to this one and yes, pretty Dadvid 💕💕)

Post this incident that ruined it, Mr. Honeynuts now wears a little Camp Campbell counselor uniform. David made it of course, and while Max voices his contempt, the bear was getting rough to hug and the shirt is soft

Idea gag of Max saying "did you know that *insert disturbing emotional abuse practice* isn't okay? Learned that last year"

They got blackmail material on each other. Max obviously uses it the most, between embarassing underpants and sleep talking, but in extreme cases David is not above pulling out his cute Max photo collection

Yes, he got several of those

Yes, he is waiting for someone to ask about it and show them like the proud parent he is

After David adopted Max, he started to work two jobs to make ends meet (I'm thinking teacher and maybe night guard, very standard). He's actually pretty good at both, but it makes him very exhausted. He once snapped at Max out of exhaustion and since then, he decided to rest whenever he feels tired (you know, like a normal person). Max jokes that he was supposed to make his life a nightmare, not help him develop a better and healthier lifestyle

They got a method for asking permission, "bullshit for fun": David allows him some usually unallowed stuff and he gets to have some cute father-son moments in exchange

Max: Okay, it's a huge concert, so I'm willing to go as far as a full week of tucking in bed

David: I'm not letting you go out of town all on your own that easily, young man! The week of that, and three days of hand holding when we get into a crowd!

Max: Mmm... one hand holding and... urgh... one day of camping together

David: WAIT, REALLY?!

Max: It's a really good concert

David: DEAL!!!!

During a particolarly bad night of Max having nightmares, David spends the night comforting him. Max jokes that perhaps David can get even a hug out of this. David states that their system is a fun thing between them for treating responsibilities and boundaries in a less serious way, but if Max needs comfort, that's always free

An episode in which Max hears David talk to Gwen, saying stuff like "I don't have enough money for him. I don't think I can make it. I'm so sorry, poor Max". He then starts the most effective escape from Camp Campbell plan he has ever put in motion, genuinely making it except he comes back because he misses everything. He screams at David for making him love him only to dump him. At last David understands the situation and hugs him, revealing that... he was talking about a dog he wanted to adopt for Max. Max will never live that down, and David is in absolute glee for the following days because his son loves him

Sometimes Max says "Language!" without realizing. It's horrifying for all people involved, even David

On the other hand, David starts to swear more. The thing is, he's used to Max and it's such a foreign thing to him that sometimes he doesn't realize it was him

David: Hold on, now where the fuck is everyone?

David: Language!

David: ... wait-

Idea crossover headcanon, David's last name is Corduroy, his dad is a cousin of the Corduroys of Gravity Falls. But as a matter of fact, David never calls his father dad, going for either sir or sergeant

I have the idea of introducing this father in an episode flashback from before the adoption. David's father, sergeant Jeffrey Corduroy, comes to the camp to "visit his son and reconnect after such a long time". The man is huge and affable, friendly like David, but David turns into a Max version of himself when he's around. After everyone states that he seems cool, David gets pissed even more and basically ditch camp activities the whole day

Max gets a moment alone with the sergent and presses a little more, thrown off by meeting the first person David seems to openly hate. As Max is being Max, Jeff loses it pretty quickly, revealing the kindness is a mask. As he is on his way to hit Max, David puts himself in between. He scolds his father, mad like never before, stating that one apology won't make up for ten years of hell. Jeff leaves, David is so tired his legs won't hold, Max helps him get back to the cabin and they stay there

When the two are alone eventually, David tells him his story: he actually learned about survival from his dad first, he got trained mercilessly to the point of spitting blood, for ten long years. At some point his parents decided to divorce, and he was sent to Camp Campbell to not be in the way. He felt happy there for the first time, but he spiralled after leaving, as his dad left and his mother was depressed. She sent him to France at the clown school, again to not be in the way, and when he was old enough he simply left his house to find his own way to be happy. The only place where that was, was Camp Campbell

David apologizes for making his first story about camp too cheerful, as he should have been sincere. Max comes to two conclusions that night: that they are way more similar than he expected (something he didn't believe when he first heard the camp story from David), and that... maybe David is kind to everyone because he used all the hate he has on that asshole

Possible last episode of the season is another Parent Day. Everyone is teasing Max over the fact that every day is Parent Day for him, and Max complains but passively shows how he can't wait for it. Obviously David is way too gleeful about it. Then David disappears and no one knows where he is, and Max gets in the worse mood possible, making it everyone's problem. Everyone is actually kinda supportive and that turns him from angry to simply sad, although Gwen states that whatever happened to David, he promised to be there therefore he will be

At the exhibition part, when it's Max' turn, David arrives just in time, running in full survival attire like in The Forest. Basically David had another canoe incident, and was hunted down by two more wolves. It turns out that they're the pups of the wolfie he befriended before, they were hunted by men and that's why they were very aggressive towards him at first. Another adventure ensued, with the pups learning how to survive nature

Of course this is not explained to the people (just like The Forest), David apologizes for the late, Max says "fuck you dad" and hugs him in front of everyone

Follows the most mundane celebration between parents, with David (after taking off the survival look) looking a bit goofy and uncomfortable with so many adults while being a young man, but he does his best. Finally a moment of tranquility for the campers, as they watch their parents

Neil: You know Max, maybe you had to learn to appreciate the hell that is Camp Campbell, to meet a parent that truly cared for you. Maybe it was all a learning experience, and this is your reward

Max: ...

Neil: ...

Max: Well, this place sucks, and my dad is a fucking idiot. Definitely not worth it

(Max scoffs, then he smiles at David waving at him. The other campers hold back laughter, clearly not believing him)

It's implied that from then on Max starts calling David dad full time

[pocket-jack]

"Supernova trio stranded on the wild island"

Law: Alright. We need to find water source first. Then build a camp nearby, but not too close to avoid the mosquito attack. Then we should check surroundings for food. Our best course of actions is to look for bird nests and eat the eggs in them. Do not eat any berry, they might be poisonous, and under any circumstances DO NOT eat the meat without thermic processing first. Am I being clea-...

Kid and Luffy who's sit on top of freshly killed bear and eating its meat while fully covered in blood: Huh? Why can't we eat raw meat??

Law: ARE FUCKING SHITTIN ME RIGHT NOW-

________________

I hc that Kid and Luffy have pretty similar childhood.

Kid was a feral child, but instead of having home to sleep or people to care about him, he had nothing, but himself. He also considers Killer his brother or just something like a brother. Perhaps he didn't even knew what the brother/sister/father/mother was, so he just figured that Killer is something that Kid don't want kill.

Killer wasn't a feral child from his birth like Kid was, but instead was left alone on the island by his parents. He knew a lot and was hanging out with Kid to not feel lonely and in danger all the time. Of course, wild life got him twisted too, but he's still pretty intelligent.

They grow protective of each other, hanging out, playing and fighting with the others.

I headcanon that their home was more of the trash island than the solid ground. There was enough of garbage to freely stand on it, but you could sometimes sink deep inside the trashy deep seas.

Killer just noticed that Kid loved doing stuff with the garbage, so he scavenged some engineering book and gifted to Kid. He went "The fuck's a book?", "It's a tones of paper glued together with words, that contains information. This one contains information about engineering", " The fuck's words???". They had to go... Through a lot of explanations Killer's childish brain could come up with. But Kid liked the gift when he understood what he was reading. He actually build a toy robot and was so happy about it. He decided to give it to Killer as a thank you present.

Then they met Victoria who became "a girl they don't want to kill so she can hang with them", and yes, Killer thought of them like siblings.

They kicked some asses, made friendships and alliances, had adventures and made promises to become pirates together.

And then Victoria dies. But unlike Sabo she dies for real. And Kid is devastated. Firstly, because he never thought that someone's death could make him feel so bad (and there were a lot of people and animals dying in here), and secondly, because he loved her dearly. And Killer as the most level-headed person in here (also really devastated, but had to remain calm, because Kid needed him) just stayed there trying to snap him out of it, but the only thing that Kid heard was a fainted "Kid!.. Kid?.. Kid. Don't look at her. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Calm down. I'm here. Please, just calm down. Please". When Kid finally looked at him he just saw how fucking scared and panicked and dirty and wet and bloody his friend was, and it just snapped him out of it.

Kid just brought together the other gang's and defeated the biggest and most dangerous gang in the whole island. I like to believe that after that he couldn't even look at Killer's face again, because the only thing he saw was his face that night. Killer was devastated and hurting much more. He was much intelligent and smart and clearly understood some things better than Kid did, and that's why Kid thought that something that Killer was going through was much worse than he had it. And Kid swore to become much stronger to never see that expression on Killer's face again. And Killer just understood that Kid would never look at his face as usual again, so he just covered it with mask, to make it easier for Kid to look him in the eyes, even if it was just holes.

I like to think that Kid, just like Law, sees Victoria in Luffy: the energetic, stubborn and freedom loving. At first he showed some interest in him, but then just made some parallels, and only then grew much more angry at Luffy for the things none of them couldn't control.

Ouch, that went too far into the angst from the funny silly feral boys doing funny silly feral stuff when their unferal and depressed boyfriend just being angry at them for breaking a lot of sanitary norms.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

something must be wrong (with me)

Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Mario, Toad Relationships: Bowser/Mario Tags: Sickfic, Sick Mario, AU - Rapunzel Fusion, Humor, Pre-Relationship

Summary: Visiting Mario in his tower had inexplicably become something routine, for Bowser. Until this visit, when Mario doesn’t answer Bowser’s calls for him. Prompts: Medieval Treatment, Clean Sheets Word Count: 2,116 words

[AO3 Link] [Link to Series]

~~~

It really should have been concerning, how routine arriving at Mario’s tower felt.

Despite it only being a few short months since beginning to do so, Bowser was pretty sure he could navigate the route from his castle to the tower in his sleep. And he did, sometimes. In his dreams, to be precise. Which was always weird, because hardly anything would happen when he would get there; he’d climb to the top and...nothing, except for a faint sense of anxiousness. It would also be weird because what the hell was he dreaming about visiting Mario for? Maybe it was a sign he needed to stop visiting him.

But then again, it was only a few days ago when he’d woken up with nothing urgent on his desk for the first time in forever and his kids off visiting friends in a neighboring kingdom and no meetings on the horizon, and the first thing he’d thought of was not how long he could get away with staying in bed nor gracing a nearby town or two with his presence nor tending to his neglected musical instruments. No, the first thing he'd thought about had been walking down this very path and getting up that tower.

So, clearly, something was wrong with him.

And you know what else was wrong?

The fact that Bowser got to the base of the tower, yelled up for Mario, and received absolutely no response. No matter how loud he got in his repeated attempts. Bowser ground his teeth, fuming. So much for those dreams.

“Hello!”

Bowser started, badly. Below him, in his blind spot, a Toad had snuck up and was peering up at him with a cheery smile that barely masked his wariness. “You’re...Bowser, right?”

Unbelievable. As if he wasn't the leader of the army that besieged this Toad’s kingdom in attempts to take it over every few weeks for the past few years. “It’s King Bowser, you worthless pip-squeak,” he growled, and was satisfied to see the Toad’s face reflecting the level of fright someone should have, standing in his presence.

“R-right!” The Toad swallowed nervously. “So, um...I’m...I’m the Mail Toad...”

Bowser raised an eyebrow.

“W-well I’m not actually a real Mail Toad it’s just that no one else wanted to deliver letters all the way out here because of the distance and danger but I don't mind danger or long trips or anything and Mario deserved to get his mail because he’s Mario right so I volunteered to deliver it and then I had to take an exam which was really hard and —”

“Shut up!” Bowser snapped. The Toad skittered back a few steps, shutting up.

A muscle in Bowser’s jaw twitched. He looked up one more time at the tower. Well, fine. If Mario thought he was too good to see him, then that was that. See if he decided to visit ever again.

“W-wait!” the Toad shouted after Bowser as he started to walk away. Bowser ignored him, but the Toad barreled on. “You’re here to visit Mario, right? You usually climb the tower!”

Bowser glared over his shoulder. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Not if the chump’s ignoring me.”

“W-well —! He’s been ignoring me, too!” The Toad held up a parcel of mail. “I haven't been able to deliver this since I got here yesterday!”

At that, Bowser turned fully. It was one thing for Mario to decide not to see him, but to also refuse mail from his family? He had to admit that wasn't like him at all.

“Yeah,” the Toad continued, more confidently now that he had Bowser’s attention. “A-and I saw the lights on the way here, so he’s definitely still up there —”

Of course he’s still up there; he’s literally cursed to be up there.

“— so unless something’s wrong...” the Toad’s voice trailed off. He gasped, looking stricken. “...What if...” he whispered, “what if he died?!”

“He’s not dead.” Bowser rolled his eyes. “He’s just being annoying. And I don't wanna deal with annoying. I’m out of here.”

“But but but!” The Toad wrung his hands together. “Can’t you check on him?” he pleaded. “You’re the only one who can get up there!”

“He’s not dead!” Bowser insisted, rankling at being ordered around by a Toad.

“But what if he is?!”

And wasn't that the question. The stupidest question imaginable, because Mario wasn't dead. Even if this behavior was abnormal, because Mario craved visitors more than a sunflower craved the sun. Or even if they really had no way of knowing for sure unless he went up there himself. Or even if Bowser was remembering that faint sense of anxiousness from his dreams.

Bowser stomped over to the Toad. “Give me the damn mail,” he spat.

The Toad’s demeanor switched in an instant from despair to relief. He beamed. “Thank you!” he said, passing the mail parcel to Bowser.

As soon as Bowser had the parcel in hand he swiped at the Toad with the other, claws inches away from his face. Just to remind the Toad who was the boss, here. But while the Toad flinched and was quick to get his distance, he didn't look nearly as scared as he should have been.

“Y-you can't hurt me!” the Toad declared, exuding false confidence. “Mario would be upset if you did!”

Something in Bowser’s face spasmed. The Toad’s bravado swiftly evaporated, but enough remained for him to reach over his shoulder and draw a weapon. “I-I’m not scared of you,” he lied, very obviously shaking. “I-I know how to use this frying pan! The Princess taught me!”

...Bowser’s seen the way Peach wielded that thing. Bah. He stormed off towards the tower without another word. What a weird Toad.

---

Bowser had only meant to check if Mario was dead, drop off his stupid mail, and then get out.

He’d pried the giant window at the top open, and stepped into a room full of stale air. When he’d called Mario’s name he’d been met with some shuffling noises and a soft groan. That should have been enough to prove Mario wasn't dead, but something had still compelled him to make his way to the lump on the bed in the corner. He'd peeled back the blankets to reveal a Mario shivering and sweating, curled up into a ball, radiating heat enough to make Bowser’s scales sweat, clearly sick with...something. Bowser'd had no clue what. For his sake, he'd hoped it was milder than it looked, considering the closest doctor was days away.

Yes, he’d meant to leave him there and go home, because there was no way he was staying long enough for the fever to latch on to him and thus be brought back to his kids; that would be a nightmare. But as Bowser had removed his hand from checking Mario’s temperature Mario had subconsciously chased it, and his breath had hitched and he’d murmured his brother’s name in the hoarsest, saddest voice Bowser had ever heard and then the next Bowser knew he was hanging Mario’s freshly washed sheets out on the windowsill. He watched them flutter in the breeze, trying to rationalize how he’d gotten to this point. What the heck was wrong with him, that that’d been all it took for him to start acting like...like Kamek? Ugh.

A light squeaking noise caught Bowser’s attention. Just outside the window, a rope-and-pulley system was moving; a small bucket rose up, with the only thing in it a note. Is Mario dead? it read, a crude drawing of a near-crying Toad right next to it.

Instead of burning the note to a crisp like he wanted to, Bowser instead marched over to Mario, who was parked at the table with broth and bread and his bundle of letters. Bowser slammed the note down on the table. “Say something so he stops being annoying,” he demanded.

It took a moment for Mario to process the command, but when it hit him that Toad was still waiting at the base of the tower he sprung up in a burst of energy to look for something to write with. And then he immediately started to sway dangerously from the sudden movement. Bowser reached across and pushed him back into his chair. “Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing a pen off Mario’s desk.

But despite Mario’s sudden urgency, he wasn't actually in a headspace to write anything, only managing a shaky, overlarge N and O underneath Toad’s question before his energy ran out and he just sat there, the ink from his pen bleeding a dark splotch onto the paper. With a huff, Bowser snatched the pen from Mario’s hand, and, turning the note around, scribbled a rough He’s just sick fuck off at the bottom. He tied the note to a spare paperweight off the desk and dropped it out the window, half-hoping it would hit the Toad.

It didn't, evidenced by the bucket going down and then coming up, with the paperweight and the note inside it with Toad’s response: Ok, I’ll tell the Princess — a drawing of a Toad, grinning — take care of him! Far below, the Toad wandered around, cleaning up his campsite.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” Bowser muttered. Mario frowned at him.

...Damn it.

The sun dried the sheets quickly, so Bowser brought them indoors. Mario watched Bowser throw them onto the bed with an odd expression on his face. It was an expression he’d been wearing almost the entire time he’d been cognizant Bowser had been here; it was like he didn't believe Bowser was here at all. Which was ridiculous. Mario wouldn't be able to hallucinate Bower’s greatness properly without a visual aid.

Regardless, with Mario constantly distracted Bowser had to keep aggressively reminding him to finish his damn lunch. Because after the effort it took to make it Mario had better not waste it or he’d be wishing he’d burnt to a crisp from the fever. But that threat didn't land quite right, and it left Mario smiling into his bowl. And instead of paying any examination to his own reaction to that, Bowser jumped at the first bit of busywork he could get his hands on to distract himself, which happened to be making Mario’s bed. Which would have been fine, if not for the fact that this was the precise moment where all the years of ignoring Kamek’s nagging to make his bed instead of passing the chore off to the servants finally came back to bite him.

Frustrated, Bowser threw the sheets haphazardly onto the mattress and gave up, sitting on the floor with his arms crossed sullenly. Mario, finished with his food, wandered over to stare at him. “What?” Bowser growled. “Your brain cooked? Go lie down so I can get outta of here.”

Mario blinked at him. He shuffled closer, glancing between Bowser and his bed in hazy consideration. And then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he let himself fall. Right on top of Bowser.

“Wh - ?” Bowser froze, arms splayed out, as Mario curled himself up right on top of him, heedless of Bowser’s sputtering. And there was a lot of sputtering, with his face burning as hot as the weight of Mario on his legs. In an attempt to save face, the sputtering turned to rambling about how you know fine, he could — and should! — push Mario off him right now but he won't, because Mario was looking uniquely pathetic today and he was a generous king. So Mario should feel thankful. And lucky, too, because they say a King’s touch could cure even the worst illnesses, you know. There used to be lines of people stretching out the castle based on those rumors. Until the old man got pissy about all the sickness floating around or whatever, and made a bunch of coins we could claim could cure people in the same way ‘cause he touched them, but he didn't actually though ‘cause that would just be a whole pain in the ass, and —

Mario wasn't listening to a word Bowser said, because Mario was fast asleep. The rush of annoyance Bowser felt at being ignored was strong, but more distant than it usually would have been. And the longer he stared at Mario’s sleeping face, infinitely more peaceful than it had been mere hours ago, the more his indignation slipped away, and with it went the idea to move Mario off his lap at all. In its place, he was filled with...something else. Something way...lighter, than the circumstances would ever warrant.

He really needed to figure out what was wrong with him.

[unnoticed-poison]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ! ᴅᴀʀᴋ! ᴍᴀɴʜᴡᴀ/ᴍᴀɴʜᴜᴀ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

Chapter 3 to 10 are posted on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev :3

Read the trailer chapter before reading this one if you haven't (it's a mix between the story summary and a chap so you need to read it before this one)

You just stared at the blue screen with a look of pure confusion and horror, not quite understanding the words the screen just said. "What?" you asked once again, still not fully comprehending the situation." run that by me again?"

You questioned while rubbing your temples as if to help you wake up from some crazy dream.

The system, whose name is Jin Xian, looked at you nervously before explaining once more.

You took a deep breath and tried not to lose it."So what you're saying is, there's a bug that's currently hiding in all the manhwas and novels I read for the last few years now and it's probably aiming to kill them all for some unknown reason?"

It hesitates before nodding slowly, "Yeah.. I guess you could put it that way"

"...And you want me to take care of it right?"

"...Y...Yes." It said awkwardly.

"And can I ask why you or whoever you work for haven't done anything about it until now?"

"We tried.." the system answered sadly, "But we just couldn't detect its exact location or even track down where it originally came from. There wasn't anything to pinpoint exactly. But then the people in charge decided that the best course of action was to let us deal with the situation ourselves while they search for another solution, so they decided to send the best world-hoppers to those worlds to try and stop it from spreading, those people are considered the best of the best, all their worlds missions were successful so far with a SSS ranking, of course only the higher ranking systems get those hosts while we low ranking ones have to look for temporary hosts with zero experience." it paused for a moment, before continuing, "So here we are"

It pouted as it said that sentence."Why do I always get stuck with the lowest rank?"

You raised an eyebrow at it." Because you're an idiot, you couldn't even get the right person to be your host, a simple task that should have been easy enough for systems of all rankings and you still failed, no wonder your rank is so low." you snapped in annoyance.

"...That... might be a tad harsh, miss..." it admitted sheepishly. it's been called a lot worse, especially recently, but it still hurt. it might be a robot but it has feelings ok?!

"So now that everything is clear, we need to start moving now! The more time we waste, the faster the bug will spread."

It was silent for a moment before you gave the cheerful Xian a small smile.

"No."

You stated with finality.

"...what?" the system replied in confusion." What do you mean no?"

"Look, as much as I want to meet the characters and go through the quests to get to the bug's location I can't, I have a life here and I'm guessing this mission of yours is gonna be pretty dangerous right?" you gave it a stern stare."So I'm sorry, but I like being alive and I'm not gonna risk it for some fantasy."

"But... but mis-" it attempted to explain, desperate to convince you, "You can't just-"it tried to speak, only to be cut off.

"This mission needs someone intelligent and dedicated, and I assure you I'm neither of these things." You continued to reason, ignoring the obvious pleading tone of your companion. You chuckled, giving the poor thing a comforting smile before continuing."tell you what, I'll pretend that all that happened today was a terrific fever dream and you'll go and look for an actual host that suits you, how about that?"

"But-!"

"Goodbye~! Have a good hunt!" you said as you grabbed it and throw it out the window and closed it shut."I wish you luck!" the room fell into silence again, only the whirring sound of the air conditioning filling the room.

You sighed in relief." Finally." you said, ready to forget the shit that just happened.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, my dear host." a cold voice sounded from behind you as a chill run down your spine.

'Fuck.'

Didn't expect to actually write a chapter after the trailer one but oh well hope you like it 🌻

I posted this on Wattpad too and might post it on AO3 as well.