#slowly realizing he’s a separate person (that he’s a GHOST) just..

[carefulzombie]

“i love yugioh!” i proclaim, knowing full well i could not give less of a shit about anything card game related towards it (aka 90% of the actual canon content)

[miguelschamp]

say don’t go

pairing: robby keene x fem!reader

summary: you visit robby in juvy

warnings: slight angst, but ends in fluff

you sat at the table wringing your hands together. you were visiting robby in juvy today and he didn’t really have any idea.

after the school fight, you were taken to the hospital for some minors you had acquired during the whole ordeal. you then tried getting a hold of robby.

after a couple of days of coming up short, you heard that he got caught and was put in juvy. you felt terrible because you knew that he hadn’t meant to run from the cops, he was just scared.

you then found out from johnny that he was able to have visitors. fortunately, you were able to set up a day for you to visit him.

you look over as the door opens. you heart starts to beat faster as you see robby walk out. he looks around at the other people visiting with their families before his eyes land on you.

he stops in his tracks and you had to admit that you were scared that he wouldn’t want to see you. you take a deep sigh as he stares at you.

he slowly starts to make his way over to your table. your eyes follow his every move as he sits down.

it’s silent as he finally looks up at you. you shift slightly in your seat before your leg begins to jump up and down.

“hi.” you say softly

“hey.” he nods. his voice was rough as he spoke.

“um, how are you ?” you ask. your eyes shut as you realized what you were asking, “sorry, that’s a stupid question.”

he scoffs lightly, “i’m fine. thanks.”

you nod before looking down at your hands. “i just- i wanted to check on you. i tried looking for you after the fight, but..”

“yeah.” he says looking down at the table. it goes quiet again as you try to wait for robby to take the conversation in whichever direction he chose. “y/n, why are you here ?”

the question stuns you. you thought it was obvious why you were here. you clear your throat, “i- i came to check on you-“

“i know. you said that but,” he starts, “all your friends are in cobra kai and i’m sure if they knew you were here, they’d flip out. so, why are you here ?”

“because i want to be.” you say simply. robby looks up at you. “i was worried about you and wanted to know if you were okay. i don’t care what everyone in cobra kai thinks. i’m not even apart of it anymore.”

“why would you care about me ?”

“despite us being in separate dojos, i thought that we were still sort of friends, so..”

you finally get the courage to look up at robby. when you do, you can see sadness swarming in his green eyes. you didn’t know it, but only kreese and johnny had come to visit him and both for very different reasons.

you were the only other person that had come to visit him.

“look, if you don’t want me here, then i’ll leave.” you say, “whatever you want.”

“i don’t want you to leave.”

you feel your shoulders lighten as he says this. “then i’ll stay.”

you see a ghost of a smile on his lips. you smile back at him as your eyes catch his. you’d definitely be visiting more often.

[zillychu]

woke up from a dead sleep last night realizing I could make soroku flavored pitch pearl and no one could stop me

edit: you know what? I'm feral and I won't apologize. more under the cut bc this is my house

I slammed this out all at once so I apologize for the quality but I'm having EMOTIONS

so imagine. bc of the way Danny was quickly resuscitated, his ghost only barely started forming. With the excess blast of ectoplasm from the portal being created, that little whisp was given form even after Danny's soul returned to his body.

except this ghost (Phantom) slowly comes into consciousness while trapped in Danny's body. they're separate entities sharing one body, but Phantom doesn't really have a sense of self right away. he pieces together vague fragments of Danny's memory to get a basic understanding of the world, and is mostly just observing like a backseat passenger.

Phantom starts reflexively protecting Danny, his powers and instincts bleeding through when his emotions are high. Danny doesn't really transform, and his personality doesn't totally shift that much at first because Phantom’s mind isn't complex yet. but as time goes on, and Danny has tense conversations with ghosts, Phantom realizes that's what he is. he's a ghost, somehow trapped in his old body. and even now, this early on, he already feels separate. he doesn't have all the memories Danny has.

this slowly turns into horror. into rage. sorrow, mourning a life he never got and will never get to have. forever trapped behind the eyes of someone else, never able to interact with the world. Phantom's rage eventually boils over until it allows him short bursts of taking over Danny's body. it starts out small–a stray hand moving without his consent, knees locking up, ghost abilities going awry. Danny can start feeling emotions that don't belong to him. get vague impressions, almost hears a voice inside him.

and eventually, Phantom is able to fully take over. this is when Danny “transforms". at first, Danny blacks out because his consciousness isn't used to being shoved into the back seat. but eventually, he's awake for these “episodes", trapped in the back of his mind while Phantom controls his body. this only happens when ghost stuff is happening, when Phantom feels threatened enough. he's not protecting Danny, he's protecting himself. Phantom knows instinctively that if Danny dies, he dies too. he's not a normal ghost, he wouldn't be freed. he'd simply disappear.

at one point after a fight, Phantom can feel Danny struggling to take back control. and he talks to Danny for the first time, acknowledges he's there. asks how it's fair that Danny is the one that gets to exist. but Phantom is tired and weak, he slips back into the passenger seat.

over the next few days, he's able to start talking to Danny even while he's not driving. though he's not chatty, it's only when necessary. and Danny knows, can feel it across the link between them–Phantom hates him. the ghost he created is desperate to find a way to take over completely. and as time goes on, Danny realizes with horror that it might actually be possible for Phantom to do that. he grows stronger every day, can stay transformed longer, controls Danny's body with much more ease.

it's only through a chance meeting with Frostbite that Danny and Phantom fully learn what happened to them. Danny feels sympathetic towards Phantom now. this isn't a malevolent ghost, it's a person who was never given the chance to live. who's trapped. who has to watch someone else live a life they're just as deserving of.

and Phantom feels that emotion from Danny. is so shocked by it, he doesn't know how to handle it at first. it takes him a while to contemplate, to talk to other ghosts like Frostbite. until one day, Phantom realizes… he feels sympathy for Danny, too.

neither of them asked for this. both of them deserve to live. Danny didn't do anything wrong. they're both villains to each other's story. and if anything… doesn't Phantom owe his life to Danny in the first place?

Phantom takes over less often. Danny doesn't feel hatred from him anymore. anger, yes–but not aimed at him. in fact, Phantom starts controlling their body in little ways in order to protect Danny from things that aren't even dangerous. just to avoid pain that would only affect the human tethered to him.

it isn't long before they're separated, either thanks to another ghost or Danny's parents. they're thrown apart in the middle of a horrific fight, and when Danny sees Phantom's equally shocked expression, he's terrified.

this ghost that hated him for so long–at best, Phantom would leave him defenseless. at worst, surely some part of Phantom still wants to kill him for stealing away his chance for autonomy.

and yet, when fire rains down on them, Phantom risks it all to grab Danny and get them both to safety. they're still both shaken and stunned this is even happening, but Phantom is able to nervously be like shit shit shit okay stay here don't go anywhere or I can't protect you, okay?

after the fight is over and dust settles, Phantom offers Danny his hand. they stare at each other and god if this isn't the weirdest thing. like, uh, okay, what now? they decide to go see Frostbite, who confirms that they're fully separate now. they ask if there's any chance of merging again and Frostbite assures it's impossible.

Phantom asks, even if I overshadowed Danny? or stay real close? yes, it's nothing to worry about. they leave, and back in the quiet of Danny's room, they talk. Phantom isn't sure what to do. now that opportunity is in front of him, he feels paralyzed. Danny does his best to let Phantom know that… they might be separate now, but if he ever wants help or even just a friendly ear, he's here for him.

Phantom is quiet for a while. then says maybe he just needs to rest first. he'll think about it tomorrow. they're both exhausted and injured. Phantom asks quietly… if he could rest in Danny for the night.

Danny's shocked, and–really confused. Phantom blushes and is like I don't know what my haunt is yet, I don't know where to go, but I know… you're kind of my home. now that I know I can leave whenever I want, it's not something bad anymore. I miss feeling your heart next to my core, just a little bit.

and Danny is just as surprised when Phantom overshadows him, then quietly nestles into the passenger seat again. he didn't realize how he got used to feeling Phantom with him. it's a feedback loop of contentedness, and Danny sleeps easily. (they also find out while sharing a body, Danny gets to reap the benefits of Phantom's supernatural healing)

anyway that's all I got for now thank u for coming to my ted talk

[gammija]

idly thinking about an AU where Jon and Martin do manage to land in the same world, in roughly the same location, but separated by time.

Lots of time.

Jon arrives in Britain, in 1988. Martin also arrives in Britain, also in the 80's - the 1780s. Maybe it's the Web putting the pieces in new starting positions, maybe it's just happenstance. Who can say.

The first thing Martin does is look for Jon, of course. Unfortunately, he realizes pretty quickly that, if Jon is here, he's not anywhere near him. But Martin's not giving up that easily. If he's going to find him, he needs resources. So, with a knack for lying to wealthy old men, and using a minimal amount of historical knowledge, he makes a modest name for himself. Hopefully enough so that Jon will be able to find him, when he looks for him -

Because Martin hasn't been able to find a trace of him yet. Not as a real person in the world, and not as a reference in any old texts or stories about odd appearances of men with alien clothes, lots of scars, or piercing eyes.

A few years pass, without Martin finding any sign of Jon. Slowly, he has to come to terms with a few facts:

Firstly, that the Fears are definitely also in this world. In his search for Jon, he's come across far too many accounts that sound eerily familiar. Though they seem to have popped up in the world around the same time he did; He doesn't have any earlier records that consistently line up with the patterns he's familiar with. Which most likely means that they - he - are responsible for their existence in this world... Martin tries not to think about it.

Secondly, thankfully, this must mean that Jon didn't arrive centuries before he did, living and dying without anyone taking notice, which Martin had gotten more and more worried about. He wouldn't have arrived without the Fears being there too. No, if Jon is going to appear in this world, (and Martin is not going to think about the alternatives), he'll arrive in his future.

Maybe so far into the future that Martin won't even live to see him. In which case, however much he'd like to avoid thinking about it, Martin has to create something here and now. Something that will last beyond his lifetime. Something Jon will be able to find as soon as he looks for Martin, so at least Jon won't have to wonder what happened to him, will know that he did not arrive completely alone, that Martin did not abandon him.

Thirdly... through his search for Jon, Martin has amassed quite a little collection of esoteric and weird stories. And, though he did it 200 years in the future, he does have some experience running an organization that ostensibly researches the supernatural, which would also be a good way to keep track of any potential new Jon leads. He thinks of naming it after Jon, of course, but it's not like Jon is going to look for his own name first, is he? And it'd raise more questions than if he named it after himself.

Cue the bittersweet ending where Jon falls out of the sky on a sunny day in the middle of London, asks for someone named Martin Blackwood, and finds Blackwood Organization, a public collection of ghost stories dating back to the 1800. He is given a set of personal letters from the founder, to be hand delivered only to a man called Jonathan Sims as soon as he would walk in the door.

...Or -

After yet another few years, in which Martin has set up his organization and is part of a decent network of people with similar interests (though he dislikes most of them), he bumps into someone. Jonah Magnus. It's an incredibly odd experience, though in hindsight, it was bound to happen, considering the information he's after. Martin has the urge to kill him right there, but the man doesn't seem to be from the future. He's just a creepy guy. Younger than Martin, too, which is also weird. But he manages to shake it off, and doesn't see him again.

Though he does keep tabs on him. Seeing him has set Martin thinking. He's been getting older, and his modern constitution isn't faring great in Georgian times. The organization is doing okay, but he's not sure yet if it's really going to survive after he's, well, gone, which would defeat the whole point. With a few more years, could he make it stronger? Could he maybe even reunite with Jon in person?

Furthermore, with the Fears being now well established, it's only a matter of time before someone tries a ritual. No, Martin isn't going to try and do one first, that'd be really stupid, not to mention evil. He just has to make sure that the world actually survives for Jon to appear in it.

A plan begins to form. One he really doesn't like. But one that, the more he considers it, is very possible. He's quite sure now the Fears mostly operate on vibes. Sure, he's maybe not a full avatar, but through letting the public read stories about the fears, hasn't he kind of spread awful knowledge? Hasn't he seen a lot of terrible things in turn? The Eye was already fond of him, according to Jon.

And even if it were to go wrong... Martin would die in either case, and the only other person suffering would be Jonah. He can't find it in himself to feel too awful about that.

Jon falls out of the sky on a sunny day in 1986. After a short and panicked search, he walks through the doors of the Blackwood Organization, Hilltop Lane 148, Oxford. The receptionist greets him. She seems somewhat shocked as she does so, tells him to take a seat as she makes a call. He doesn't know what else to do, so he sits. The chairs are surprisingly comfortable.

A few minutes later, someone he doesn't at all recognize enters the foyer. He looks at Jon, stops, freezes. Jon stills as well.

The man is unfamiliar in every way. He's short, for one, his skin a darker complexion, hair curling in a way his never did. But those eyes, as soon as he sees them, he recognizes. Those are the eyes of the man he trusted to kill him.

[b0nkedmehead]

I always see people make certain dp characters [ie: Danny's parents, val, giw] wanna get rid of phantom from danny like an exorcism

Even tho they're the same person right

But I always think of that ep where danny went through that ghost spliter, and you see Phantom and danny as two separate beings [this would've been so cool to explore btw]

Before they quickly went back lol

But what if the giw or someone actually succeeded in splitting them up. I wanna see the ramifications that would have.

Would Danny's "human form" slowly deteriorate from the injuries he sustained from the portal? Would it be instant or would it happen slowly.

Everyone thinks yay! No more halfa hes cured yippee 🕺until Danny looks more and more worn down, has phantom pains, can't sleep, nightmares, and slowly slowly his injuries start killing him and everyone starts noticing.

And then they realize danny can't live without phantom. That the people trying to save him from phantom inevitably ended up killing him again.

Also on the flip side how would this affect phantom like would he just fade away since his body technically isn't dead yet. Would he be caught up in some weird in-between 🤔

Many thoughts many thoughts

I'd also love to hear anyone else's thoughts on this

[wttcsms]

turn on the flash and hit record ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis simon misses you on one of his missions. good thing he has a collection of movies the two of you filmed to keep him company. content contains male masturbation, possessive!ghost, obsessed!ghost, filmed sex, vaginal fingering, brief gunplay (towards the end), he whimpers in this fic btw, slight size kink/size difference

Everything about you seems to have been made specifically for him, from the way your eyes seem to always catch his to how easily he can manhandle you, flipping you into different positions as he very well pleases.

You indulge with his every whim, eager to follow his commands and so when he asks you love, can I record you just this once? you agree with little to no hesitation. After all, it’s Simon, your Simon — you know he’s possessive almost to a fault, and the man rarely shows his face unless he truly trusts the person he’s baring himself to. There’s no chance someone else will be able to get their hands on the footage.

His missions last too long, and the weeks he spends separated from you are nothing short of pure agony. Before you, he didn’t feel the constant need for release, but after you? He craves it. You only realize you’re starving after having a taste of what you’ve been deprived of for so long.

Which is how he finds himself here, tucked safely away in the darkness of a room in a safehouse that’s seen better days, the front of his military-issued pants and briefs pulled down just enough to free his cock.

The tip is flushed red, already leaking with pre, and he spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his length, practically hissing at the contact. Propped up on the nightstand and located in his direct line of sight is his private phone containing only your number and an album full of photos and videos of you in different positions and various states of undress.

Recording you just once turns into a second time which leads to him recording the two of you going at it for a third time until eventually, he’s built up quite the collection. The video playing on his phone is one of his favorites; it’s one of the first he’s ever filmed, proven by the shyness still evident on your face and body as you blush when the camera lands on you.

You’re lying on the bed he shares with you, completely bare and entirely vulnerable. Scattered across your skin are various lovebites, all varying in depth depending on whether he wanted to give you just a playful nip or true mark to remember him by when he’s gone.

You look so pretty right now, love. Let’s hope the camera can catch that beauty, huh?

He can hear the familiar sound of his chuckle coming from the video; you’re the only person left in this world to ever see him with such a playful demeanor, but his laugh might be the last thing on your mind. He’s certainly not thinking too hard when the camera angles downward to showcase your dripping cunt.

Simon takes a sharp inhale as he watches the way your folds are practically glistening with your slick arousal.

Wonder if your pussy’s so wet, I’ll be able to hear it in the video. What do you think, darling?

He tightens his grip on his cock as he watches himself enter three fingers, your tiny hole struggling to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The shlick sound that accompanies every thrust is picked up by his phone camera, and Simon groans as the room he’s currently in gets enveloped in the sounds of him playing with your wet pussy.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, watching the precum bead from the tip of his cock, some of it slowly dribbling down, running along the veins on his dick. The extra lubrication makes his movements smoother, and soon, there’s a subtle clicking sound as he tries to stroke his dick in tandem with the thrusts he’s doing on the screen.

“Simon!” Your sweet voice moans out his name in the recording. He’s watched this video so many times already; he knows that right about now, you’re going to start lifting your pretty hips in an attempt to get his fingers to penetrate you even deeper. He remembers the night he filmed this video; he’s going to curl his fingers right up against that special spot of yours that’ll have you cumming all over his hand.

He struggles to keep his lidded eyes from closing all the way, desperate to watch your tiny hole fluttering around his fingers, squeezing him so tight. In turn, the grip on his dick only tightens as he watches you writhe on top of the sheets, slender fingers curling against the bedsheets as you scream out his name. The camera catches the way you cream all over his fingers, effectively coating his skin in it all the way down to his knuckles. It’s practically dripping all the way to his wrist.

The sight has him practically drooling, his strokes now even rougher. He imagines his rough, calloused hands are your smaller, soft ones. The girth of his dick makes you unable to wrap your whole entire hand, the tips of your fingers unable to touch due to his massive width. He tosses his head back, bucking into his hand as the audio from your little film still plays in the background.

Such a good girl for me. Always so needy, aren’t you?

He doesn’t need to see the video to know you’re nodding in reply. He watches through hazy vision as the him in the video takes his thumb and traces your bottom lip. Without him even needing to ask, you part those pretty lips of yours and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking.

Fuck, what he would do to have you here by his side right now.

He’ll have to make do with these videos, though. It’s not like these little films aren’t enough to bring him to release. The idea of his sweet love being his own personal pornstar does something to him, and he shuts his eyes, still working his cock as other memories of passionate nights beforehand flood his mind.

There was that one night where the two of you played one of the videos of him fucking you to the point where tears were brimming in your eyes due to overstimulation. He made a vow that for every time you came in that video, he would make you cum even harder. (He had done well in keeping that promise.) He thinks of the way your flesh feels underneath his fingers, and he relishes in the memory of how it feels to squeeze your thighs as he spreads you apart so he can savor the taste of you on his tongue. He could eat your little pussy out for hours, and after this mission, he makes a promise to do so.

He’s nearing the end of the video; he knows so because his favorite line is about to come up and at the perfect time, too.

Simon, I-I want your cum. Please come for me, please?

He doesn’t need to look at his screen to know you’re pouting up at him, knowing just the right thing to have him groaning. His breaths are coming in short pants, and your sweet, dulcet tone makes him want to come right then and there.

Please, Simon.  

Your little pleas for him to reach the height of pleasure is music to his ears. He’s practically whimpering now, forcing himself to stroke himself even more rapidly despite the fact that the stimulation on his already sensitive cock is blending pain into his pleasure.

“Gonna do it for you, love.” He weakly moans out in this empty room. He can feel himself about to fall off the edge, his release so close that it’s just about palpable. With a low groan of your name mixed with a string of curses, he finds himself ejaculating all over his hand. The amount of cum is so much that it’s not enough for it to just coat the entire length of his cock and fingers — no, there are strings of white splattered on his abdomen, effectively staining his uniform.

He’s panting, the video now over, but before he can shut off the phone, a text notification appears.

My Love [One Video Attachment]

He clicks on it, curious as to what you could possibly be sending him.

It’s a new video, one you must have just now filmed. You’ve got one of his guns, the magazine lying on the nightstand. He knows it’s unloaded and basically a toy at that point, but he doesn’t understand what’s going on until he watches you strip yourself, leaving your beautiful figure on display. He can see you dripping for him already, and he watches with bated breaths as you take the barrel of his handgun and tease your soaking entrance with it.

I need you so badly, Simon. When will you come back home?

His cock is already hardening again, and he palms himself, fumbling with his phone to call you.

Everything about you is perfect to him.

[7ndipity]

Let Me Love You

Jungkook x Plus Size Reader

Summary: When your friend Jungkook confesses his feelings, you ghost him, despite your own feelings for him, fearing that the relationship will end in disaster. Can he convince you otherwise?

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angsty, mentions of anxiety and body insecurities, swearing, suggestive, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I wanted to post this last night, but I was super tired and fell asleep(I’m still sick lol). Also, part of this is based on a dream I had and couldn’t get out of my head, so sorry if it feels a little random.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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The noise and lights of the party had been almost overwhelming, even around the pool, where some of you had separated off, a few even deciding to brave the cold water to swim.

“Wanna take a dip?” He’d asked as you sat tucked off to the side together, letting your feet hang over the water, leaning in close to hear each other.

“I don’t have a suit.” You’d replied.

“You won’t hear me complaining.” He’d smirked, making you roll your eyes before quickly dropping your attention to the drink in your hand, trying to hide the growing heat in your cheeks.

Jungkook had always been a notorious flirt, especially when it came to you, never missing an opportunity to make some sly comment that would have your face burning, much to his amusement, though you doubted he realized the full effect his words had on you. You’d never shared your feelings for him or your long standing crush, knowing he wouldn’t be into a plus size person like you, and had just focused on maintaining your friendship instead.

“Well, I’m going in.” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, glancing up just in time to see him yank his jacket off and slip in, allowing the water to come up over his head for a moment before resurfacing with a gasp, shaking his head at you like a dog.

“You’re insane.” You commented, laughing.

“You love it.” He said, catching hold of your arm to help pull him out of the water.

“You’re getting me wet!” You squealed, trying to skooch away from him, but he trailed after you, making you both laugh until you were stuck in the corner.

Jungkook’s laughter trailed off, expression suddenly turning serious as he looked up at you. “I wanna try something.” He said.

“What is it?” You asked warily.

Rather than answering, he braced his hands on either side of you, boosting himself up and pressing his mouth briefly to yours.

You froze, staring at him wide-eyed as he pulled away and sank back down.

“What was-?”

“I like you, y/n,” He said quickly. “I want to be with you.”

“I-I-” Your head felt like it was spinning as you stared at him, nearly nodding before reality suddenly began to seep back in, filling your veins like cement.

“I-I’m, I can’t, I’m sorry.” You were scrambling to your feet before you had fully gotten the words out, leaving him staring after you in confusion as you pushed your way through the crowd to escape.

That’d been three days ago, and since then, you hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to him.

You knew dodging his calls and texts was far from a proper solution to your current predicament, but you couldn’t come up with any better ideas, mind still in absolute chaos at the sudden revelation.

Despite your efforts to push it away, memories of the night kept playing on loop in your head, the way he’d looked at you, the feel of his lips on yours.

You couldn’t believe it, the guy of your dreams told you he was into you, and you ran away. Brillant.

You shook your head, slowly dragging yourself out of bed and making your way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, you did, more than you cared to admit to even yourself, but in the back of your mind, there were those same nagging voices that had held you back from confessing in the first place. As a bigger person, you’d experienced more than your share of mistreatment and let downs connecting to your size, only further feeding into your insecurities that you weren’t good enough. And although Jungkook had never given you a reason to feel that way with him, you still couldn’t shake that deep seeded fear that, if you said yes to him, one day he would wake up and realize that his feelings had changed, that the attraction he thought was there wasn’t really, not in the way he originally believed, and you would end up losing one of the most important people in your life. You couldn’t handle that, you couldn’t afford to lose him, it would kill you.

You were shook out of your thoughts by an insistent knock on your front door.

“Who is it?” You called, cautiously making your way over, glancing at the clock and noting that it was only 7:30 in the morning.

“Y/n?” Your stomach dropped at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

You briefly considered not answering, but you knew from previous experience that he would wait on the other side of that door for as long as necessary just to see you, having stayed with you through more than one meltdown in the past.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. “What do you want, Kookie?” You asked quietly, looking up at him. He looked almost as tired as you felt, faint shadows visible under his eyes.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, please?” He asked, keeping his voice soft, but you could see the tension in his eyes.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping back to let him in.

He made his way to the living room out of habit, with you following behind, before finally turning to face you. You spotted your reflection in the mirror over his shoulder, showing you how small and nervous you looked, like a cornered animal.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He said simply. It wasn’t a question, but there was clearly one attached to the statement.

“I was just giving some time.” You said lamely, wincing at the feeble excuse.

“Time for what?”

“To make up for my stupid mistake at the party.”

“You mean when you ran out?” He asked. “That was my fault, I shouldn’t have dumped everything on you so suddenly like that.”

“It’s more than that.” You said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“What is it?” He studied you for a moment before asking quietly. “Do you… not like me that way?”

“No!” You said quickly. “I do, fuck I do, but that’s the problem.”

“You’ve lost me.” He said.

“Koo, it’s just-” You sighed, struggling with your words. “It just doesn't make any sense, we’re too… different”

“No, we aren’t,” He argued. “You’ve said it yourself, if anything, we're too alike.”

“I meant, because I’m…” Your words died off.

“Because you’re bigger?” He finished, understanding crossing his expression before shifting to sadness as he saw your eyes drop. He knew about your struggles with your self image, but he’d never thought they’d be an issue between the two of you. He was always trying to compliment you and let you know how amazing he thought you were.

“Y/n, you know I love you for you right?” He said gently.

“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked “What if you just think you want me? What if you get tired of not being able to do cute coupley things with me because I’m too heavy? What if-?”

Jungkook suddenly moved forward, causing you to backpedal until you were pinned between him and the wall.

“Look at me.” He breathed, staring down at you, completely serious. “There is no universe where I wouldn’t find you fucking gorgeous, you hear me? I have always, and will always love and want you, and nothing will ever change that. Even when we’re super old and gray and wrinkly, I will still be fucking awestruck by you.”

You let out a weak laugh at that, despite the tears gathering in your eyes.

“So, will you let me love you?” He asked, looking at you tenderly.

You nodded. “Yes.”

He smashed his mouth to yours, holding onto you for dear life as he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as he traced the shape of your lips with his, causing you to let out a tiny whine.

Wanting to further prove his point, his hands slipped down to the back of your thighs, catching behind your knees and hoisting you up so you were held up by him. You let out a squeak of shock, wrapping your arms and legs around him for support.

“See?” He asked, grinning at you proudly. “Don’t you dare say that you're too heavy for me.”

“You’re insane.” You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“You love it.” He grinned, letting you pull him back in for another kiss.

[sidekick-hero]

tangled with what I never said

(steddie | mature | 994 words | @steddiemas angsty sentence starters and @steddieholidaydrabbles modern au prompts)

NOW WITH A PART 2

"I don't know what you want from me!" Eddie yells, his face contorted in misery.

He doesn't want to fight. He doesn't want to feel the way he does, confused and angry and miserable. He doesn't want to lose Steve.

"I want to know what's wrong. You can talk to me, man. You know you can, right?" Steve's voice wavers at the question, his hazel eyes imploring Eddie to tell him what's wrong so Steve can fix it.

The problem is, Steve can't fix it. Not this one.

Eddie lets out a deep sigh, feeling all his anger drain out of his body, leaving behind a weariness that feels too big for his body. He's just so tired of feeling like this.

"I don't know what to say, Steve. I told you, I'm just tired, okay? Go back to Sam and enjoy your date. I'm fine."

Steve doesn't move, just looks at him with that hurt look on his face and Eddie doesn't know why, but it reignites that seemingly ever-present flame of hot anger in his stomach.

"Stop. Stop looking at me like that." He snaps and sees Steve jump at the sharpness in his voice. They've been roommates for two years now, and friends for almost as long, and Eddie can count the times they've fought on one hand.

"Like what?"

"Like I killed your puppy or something. Like I hurt you when you're the one -" Eddie snaps his mouth shut, but it's too late. Fuck his traitorous mouth that keeps running off and ruining his life.

Steve takes a step forward, then another, inching closer like he's approaching a wild, cornered animal. "When I'm the one hurting you? Is that what's going on, Eddie, have I hurt you?" His hand reaches for Eddie and Eddie wants to take it so badly. That's the problem, isn't it? He wants and wants and wants.

He wants to be happy for Steve, he really does. He wants to smile and congratulate him for finally finding someone he likes enough to take out on dates and kiss good night and hold his hand with that happy smile on his face. Someone to hold him and fuck him so good that Eddie can hear it through the wall separating their bedrooms.

But most of all, Eddie wants to be that person for Steve.

"Eddie?" Steve's voice jolts him from his thoughts as a warm hand settles on his upper arm. "What did I do? Please, tell me."

"You didn't do anything..."

"Bullshit!" Steve shouts, and Eddie swears he can hear that one word echoing through his mind. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

"Steve," he tries, but is cut off by Steve's shaking voice, a stark contrast to the tight grip on his arm.

"No, Eddie. You can't... I can't do this anymore, watching you pull away. It's like. I don't know. Like you're disappearing before my eyes. And I... fuck." He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was after the heavy make-out session Eddie had come home to earlier than planned. His eyes find Eddie's and Eddie's stomach drops when he sees the tears glistening in them. "I miss you, okay? I fucking miss you."

"I'm right here," Eddie whispers. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say, but they're all stuck in his throat, slowly choking him.

Steve moves even closer so that their faces are only inches apart, his eyes never leaving Eddie's, and whispers back, "No, you're not. Not really. You're like a ghost story." Eddie can feel Steve's breath against his own lips and thinks Steve must be trembling before he realizes that no, that's him.

"Steve, please." He doesn't know what he's pleading for. Maybe to take back those stupid words he said to Steve fourteen months ago.

It was a mistake.

We were drunk and high and I didn't mean it.

We can still be friends.

Maybe he's begging Steve to take the thoughts out of his head so he doesn't have to say them.

I'm sorry.

I was scared because I didn't want to lose you.

I'm so in love with you that some days it feels like it's killing me and I want to let it.

Steve's big, warm hand cradles his face and Eddie leans into it like a flower starving for the nurturing touch of the sun. They are so close that Eddie can feel Steve's body shaking as well, and Eddie doesn't know what it means, but he wants to take Steve and hold him until it stops. Until they can both be put back together again.

"Eddie, I -"

A knock interrupts what Steve is about to say. "Babe, is everything okay?"

Eddie feels his heart crumple in his chest at the sound of Steve's boyfriend's voice.

"Yeah, just give me a second." Steve calls over his shoulder, but when he turns around, Eddie steps away from him.

"Go to your boyfriend, Steve." Eddie tells him before grabbing his jacket and walking out of his bedroom and towards the door. He doesn't know where he's going, just that he hopes they're both gone when he gets back.

He walks aimlessly through the night, replaying their fight over and over again. The way he reacted when he saw Steve and Sam making out on the couch, how Steve followed him, confronted him. Steve telling him he missed him with tears in his eyes and holding his face so gently afterwards.

Maybe it's his Hail Mary, but he has to tell Steve how he feels, if only to make him understand that it's not Steve who's the problem, but Eddie.

Letting himself into their apartment, he finds it dark and quiet as he tiptoes to his room, and he's glad for the delay.

What he isn't prepared for is the sight of Steve lying on Eddie's bed, fast asleep, clutching Eddie's favorite hoodie to his chest.

[captain-mj]

Biblically accurate Ghost. Give.

Delivered! Hope you're the original person

Soap wasn’t sure when exactly he started to notice Ghost was… different. Besides the obvious stuff. Yeah, he moved quicker and quieter than average. That was normal for a person in the SAS. He had weird quirks. All normal honestly. He wasn’t the only person who never took off a mask. Half the Shadows didn���t. Several recruits had permanent medical masks. It was strange and he teased him, but it wasn’t exactly the strangest thing about him. 

Ghost’s back moved. Well, to be more accurate, his shirt rippled. Something slid and moved beneath it. When Soap pointed it out to Gaz, Gaz claimed it was the work of shadows. Though funnily enough, the two of them were never alone in the same room again. 

Price never gave anything away, but Soap started to pay attention and he noticed the way he tensed when Ghost first entered a room before relaxing on cue every time. If he had to have his back to someone, it was always Ghost. He did more dangerous things if Ghost was there. 

Soap had no idea what made him first get suspicious. Part of him wondered if he was working himself into a frenzy over nothing. If his desperation to be close to Ghost made him make conspiracy theories. 

But he knew what made him realize it was bigger than some quirks. It was when someone shot Price point blank and nothing happened. 

They all saw it. The person slipped by them and their bullets sprayed across where Price was. And nothing happened. 

Nothing. 

There were bullets by Price’s feet. No other explanation. 

Price had called it a miracle and then never acknowledged it again. When it got brought up, Price simply looked away. He said they shouldn’t question fate. 

It was strange. 

Then, Gaz broke his arm. It was so clearly broken. Snapped and hanging wrong. His fingers didn’t move. 

Soap got the stuff to wrap it. He felt the break in the bone. The two separate breaks in the bone. 

Ghost scoffed. “It’s nothing.” He stalked over. 

Gaz scowled. “Are you serious??”

Ghost grabbed his arm hard. And twisted. It looked painful. But Gaz didn’t flinch. He stopped and stared at his arm, slowly moving his fingers. 

Soap felt his arm. Nothing. Clean bone. Not a hint of any damage. 

He saw the look in Gaz’s eyes. 

“Just a sprain, Sergeant.” Ghost walked away from him and continued to guard them. 

Gaz started at Soap. Soap stared back. 

He checked the medical records of his team. They had far less than anyone else. Far far less. Not all of it could be blamed on them being better trained than the others. 

Soap waited for his moment. For the bullet to miss. The bone to heal. Or shrapnel to just miss his skin. 

This mission, the knife went through his ribs and punctured his lungs but there was no blood. No bleeding. He wasn’t drowning in his own blood. 

That didn’t stop the blow to his head. That he smashed to the ground at the same time as Ghost.

One of them stabbed Ghost with something. It looked like a blade but it was shaped weird. 

Ghost stopped fighting. Soap could hear the tiny, heart wrenching whimper the pain got out of him before Ghost quickly regained control of himself and shut up. His body looked broken. Laying there in a way that unsettled something in Soap’s chest. Big brown eyes stared right into Soap from that skull mask. 

Soap didn’t feel a thing. Even when the butt of the gun slammed into his temple. When he woke up, he didn’t even have a headache. There was a taste of blood in his mouth, but nothing else. 

He had been tied up pretty tight, but there were no guards. The chair was just wooden. Soap gritted his teeth and fell back, feeling the legs snap before it even hit the ground. 

How insulting. 

If Ghost was in a similar situation, that would explain the lack of guards. He probably killed them all. 

Soap found his gear on the table behind where he was sitting, just out of sight if he was still tied up. He grabbed his radio and tried calling out. 

It was a miracle he got a response from Price. 

“Bravo 6 this is Bravo 7-1.”

“Soap.” Price dropped the titles so Soap followed suit. “Where are you?”

“Facility of some kind. Don’t think I’ve been out too long so can’t be far from where we were. Haven’t seen Ghost yet. I’ll find him though.”

“You both got captured?” Price’s voice sounded rather worried. “Something happen?”

Soap sighed. “Just got the jump on us. One of them stabbed me. One of your little miracles happened.”

“That explains it.” Price responded, which was honestly just cryptic as all hell. “Find Ghost. We’ll be there soon.”

Soap frowned and put his tac vest back on. He tightened it and put one of the plates in it in case he ran into trouble. Everything was quiet. Very quiet. He found some people but they all were dazed. Barely reacted to him before he shot him. 

“Did you know?” One of them mumbled. 

Soap held the gun steady. “What?”

They didn’t attack him just grabbed their cross. “May God forgive me for my transgressions. I beg for forgiveness.”

Soap was unnerved. This soldier had set his gun to the side. 

He didn’t get a chance to stop them. Just watched their brains splatter against the wall. 

Soap continued on. Something was wrong. These weren’t shadows. They had a weird logo instead. 

As he searched further into the facility, more and more of them were normal. Immediately starting to fight back. One of them didn’t bother to shoot, aiming instead to bash his brains in. Soap stabbed him, watching blood that looked a little too dark splash everywhere. 

Maybe, with everything that had happened, he shouldn’t be as shocked. But opening the door to see Ghost was a nightmare. One of the liminal ones that leave you questioning reality for days afterward.

Soap almost left, not recognizing Ghost as… Ghost. There was a man with many thin blades, almost like spears, going in and out of his body with blooms of golden ichor. Through his hands, his torso and his…

His….

The wings. 

Three giant pairs, all bending and twisting oddly. Soap couldn’t be sure if it was because of the spears or if they naturally looked like that. 

Without his mask and the rest of his clothing, it took noticing the tattoos to realize who he was staring at. Ghost was kneeling, head down, arms stretched and twisted slightly, probably to keep him from trying to escape. It meant the spears tangled with the muscle instead of just going through it. 

“Simon?”

A slow hum. It echoed and reverberated around the room, starting borderline inaudible before coming increasingly loud. Right before it could reach the horrific crescendo, when Soap’s ears felt on the edge of bleeding and bursting, Ghost cut himself off and looked at him. 

Something black oozed from his eyes, staining his cheeks all the way down to his chest. Where he was run through, there was no red, just the stunning gold color of ichor. It did not puddle underneath him, instead it made intricate symbols on the floor. 

Even hurt and trapped, Ghost was ungodly gorgeous. Ethereal. That’s the word.

“Don’t be afraid.” Ghost said softly. Voice echoing and breaking and flitting around the room. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Soap stepped a bit closer. He most certainly was. Thought not of Ghost. 

His wings were so big. They took up every bit of space in the room. The spears cut straight through them, breaking feathers and bones. Though, it appeared as if Ghost had healed around them somewhat, which might make removing them even harder.

“They’re very sharp. Be careful.” Ghost mumbled, his head falling back down. Soft ginger blond hair looked matted with gold ichor. 

Soap had been wrong Spear was not the best word. It was more like razer wire that had been yanked taut. He found a knife but it couldn’t cut through it and the pained sounds Ghost made from the vibrations was enough to make him stop. 

Instead, Soap found where each strand was being held, usually tied to one of the loops in the floor next to Ghost. Ghost sat as quietly and as still as he could. 

Soap’s thoughts wandered. He had an angel. An actual angel. Right here at his fingertips. His hand slid through the feathers, trying to find where a particularly nasty looking wire was cutting the flesh. 

Silk, egyptian cotton, velvet, none of the fanciest materials he could think of came close. It was softer than down. Warmer than sunlight. 

He found the wire and removed it. The slow process of pulling the wire through his wing and then letting it hang from the ceiling or wall or wherever the other side was. 

Mind numbing. The work was repetitive. That’s what he blamed on the fact that he was crying. 

The ones through Ghost’s… more human looking parts of his body were actually spears. He yanked them out as quickly as possible. Ghost clearly wouldn’t die from something as dumb as internal bleeding. 

Soap went to catch him but Ghost didn’t fall. Just stayed kneeling. With nothing to stop it, more blood poured from the wounds, gathering with the rest of it on the floor and continuing the intricate symbols. 

“Simon, you gotta get up.” 

Ghost tried. He pulled himself to his feet and then grabbed Soap hard. His tactical pants were soaked in red and gold. His chest exposed but so bloody he might as well be covered. But the main concern was his face. 

Soap checked his gear, trying to see if he had anything they could use. Anything at all. Ghost took advantage of the fact that he was distracted and buried his face in his shoulders. 

Soap paused in surprise, feeling warm breath against his skin. Shivers wracked Ghost’s body and Soap wondered if he was wrong and he could bleed out. 

“I got you, Simon. Being so tough for me.” Soap whispered nonsense to them. They were on an enemy base. Current whereabouts unknown. Price was looking but that could take ages. He didn’t need Ghost in fighting condition, but he did need him okay.

“Are you hurt?” Ghost asked softly. “I can heal you.” 

Soap shook his head. “Absolutely not. No. I’m fine. Just focus on you.” He pet his hair, trying not to grimace when the ichor stuck to his hand, shining against his skin. 

Ghost stayed quiet. 

Soap managed to find his clothing in a closet connected to the room. He helped Ghost get dressed, including his tac vest. Needed to keep him safe. 

Ghost watched him as he moved, head lolling any time he wasn’t focused. Even well dressed, he looked wrong. His wings were very visible. They were smushed instead of artfully disappearing. Then they just tore through everything. Stretching out and once again filling all the air in the room. Ghost’s tatters of a shirt just fall around his chest and arms. 

Soap stared at him and sighed. “Alright, can’t do that. No big deal! Just gotta get you out of here, okay?”

Ghost looked weary. He nodded along and grabbed Soap’s hand, but if he had his way, he’d just lay down and suffer the consequences. 

But Soap could never let him do that. He dragged him along and kept his gun out despite how empty the halls seemed. Full of dead people. Some clearly self inflicted and some clearly not. 

“I tend to have this effect on people.” Ghost joked, watching all the carnage with such emptiness. He didn’t care they died. The world was honestly better for it. 

Soap held him tight and got them outside. He started to speak into his radio again. “Price, come in. We’re outside of the building. Looks like we’re on a hill.”

“Closer to God.” Ghost mumbled, sinking back down into a kneel.

Price quickly replied. “We think we’ve located you. Should be there in less than 5. What did Ghost just say?”

Soap stared at the bloody wings. “You’ll see when you get here sir,”

Ghost stayed kneeling, head tilted back to look at the stars. Soap realized he was praying. Kinda. It wasn’t in english but it sound like prayer. 

His wounds stayed there though. Soap kept waiting for them to magically heal. He didn’t know why. But they didn’t stop bleeding. 

Ghost looked pale, but his hair had a faint glow. He got up when Price arrive. 

Price stared at him, blinking his eyes slowly. Gaz went to grab Soap before shuddering and stepping back. Ghost sank down further, smashing to the ground like a piece of china. 

Soap almost thought he would shatter. 

It was remarkable how easily they all just… ignored it. Price and Soap helped Ghost while Gaz kept watching, firing at anyone that got close. They left a thick trail of gold behind them, but it wasn’t something they wondered about very much. Just… needed to get Ghost to the heli. 

Soap had never been a religious man. But with Ghost right there, a glorious angel, though not nearly as scary as he was expecting. 

Nik stared at the giant wings and slowly raised his sunglasses. “Price, what the hell?”

Price stared at him. “I don’t… know. Just, just fucking fly.”

Nik got them in the air faster than the last time they were being shot at. 

Soap watched Ghost start to kneel again and he quickly grabbed him, pulling him into the seat instead. Ghost fell into his side. Vulnerable. Beautiful. Angelic. 

Soft lips stained gold. Giant white wings that were soaked. Wounds along his wings that still hadn’t healed. 

“What do you need?” Soap asked, feeling useless. He wanted to help him. 

Ghost looked at him, eyes so incredibly dark. “Can I sleep on your shoulder?”

“Yeah. Of course, Simon.” He pulled him so his head was resting on him. It surprised him how quickly he fell to sleep. Ghost shivered and Soap looked at Price who nodded and looked for more clothing. Without his balaclava and only half of a shirt, he looked small somehow. And cold. 

An angel. 

Simon Ghost Riley. 

A man whose hands were soaked in blood. 

A bloody angel. 

Soap shook his head before quickly stopping when Ghost moaned in pain. “Sorry, didn’t mean to jostle ya.” 

Ghost buried his face in Soap’s neck and dozed back off. He stared there for the majority of the trip, barely reacting when Price pulled a thick jacket around him. It just barely covered his wings, but it looked like it was the material instead of something underneath it. 

Gaz and Price took Ghost from Soap. It was because all of the adrenaline had left Soap, leaving him sore all over from being hit, but it didn’t feel that way. Ghost felt stolen from him. 

Nik followed, clearly invested. Soap had never noticed the crucifix around his neck. 

“Russian Orthodox. Haven’t followed in a while.” Nik explained. 

Soap wished he had his rosary. “Scottish Catholic. Also haven’t followed in a while. Kinda regret that now.” 

Nik nodded wordlessly and they all managed to go to Ghost’s room. Ghost was still clearly dazed, falling in and out of consciousness. He laid on the bed and pulled off his jacket, laying on his stomach. His skin had slowly started to stitch back together. 

Gaz carefully used the back of his hand to move one of the wings and they could see where the majority of the skin on his back had a weird glow with dozens of intricate symbols burned into him. The wings were not orderly and in two straight lines like one would expect. There was no symmetry that was discernible. Just chaotic placement. 

Soap looked over the wings again and realized they were not, in fact, three sets. Each wings was a slightly different size. They folded perfectly, blending together to look like a normal pair of wings on a bird. 

It was unsettling.

There were also… lines. Little spots among of the feathers were there were… wounds? Possibly? It was hard to tell. 

Price stared. “I always assumed he was just a lucky bastard. Or maybe that there was some demon deal he made that I didn’t know about. Not quite… this.”

“Demons don’t make deals.” Ghost croaked, eyes opening. His arms were folded to his chest. “Those things Soap killed were demons. The ones that bled black.”

Soap frowned. “You can shoot them to death?”

“Rather easily. Just like how they almost killed me with those spears…” Ghost went into his nightstand and grabbed his mask, slipping it on. 

Gaz stepped back a little. “What’s taking so long for you to heal?”

“Lot of damage. It hurts. I’m sorry.”

Soap frowned. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, but I damned you guys to hell.”

“What?”

“You know. Gazing upon an angel. Don’t exactly have to trust in god if you have proof.” Ghost shrugged. 

Panic rippled through the room for a solid minute. Gaz started to hyperventilate while Nik stared blankly at him for a solid moment. 

“Kidding. Kidding. I’ll pull some strings for you guys.”

Soap hit his shoulder. “Asshole.” 

Price tried to break the tension. “Thought angels were supposed to be scary looking, not making scary jokes.”

“You don’t think I’m scary looking?” 

Price hesitated. “No?”

Ghost paused what he was doing and looked at him. 

The things in his wings opened. 

Dozens. 

Hundreds. 

Maybe thousands of… eyes. 

All blinking and focusing their sole focus on Price. They vibrated in their sockets, spreading and narrowing and opening and closing and…

Price winced but didn’t back down. He stared at him until Ghost relaxed and put his wings back down. 

“Guess I’m not scary anymore.” Ghost stretched and flopped back down. “Can you guys leave me alone?”

Price left the moment it was asked of him. Gaz lingered, watching him until Nik tugged him away. 

Soap did not leave.

“Johnny…”

“Simon. I get why you wouldn’t tell me. Don’t worry. Are your wings heavy?”

“Yes.”

“What about your family and stuff? Was that real?”

“Yeah. Just made them human sounding is all.” Ghost relaxed again, unable to help himself in Soap’s presence. “If you want to touch them, you can. Just be careful of the eyes.” 

Soap took it. He ran his fingers through those soft feathers, watching beautiful brown eyes open up and look at him before closing again, wings leaning into the heavenly touch. 

“I’ll make sure when we get to heaven, you’re in mine.” Ghost mumbled. 

Soap felt a shiver. “Yeah?”

“Yes. God doesn’t watch there.” 

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

I have another idea for a story, but I once again don't know what to write, so I'm building a skeleton.

It's a DC x DP x ML crossover. Damien, Marinette, and Danny are triplets born into the LoA. From birth, they were taught to not see each other as siblings but as rivals for Ra's attention. When they were five, they were dipped (more like dropped) into the pits for the first time. Danny never comes back out. The second time was when they were six. Damien and Marinette came back from a mission gravely injured. Marinette doesn't come back out. Damien becomes the sole heir.

As one can imagine, Danny and Marinette aren't dead but simply taken to where they were needed at the time. That being said, things for these two characters go mostly according to their respective shows after they integrate into society. With the exception that the two of them are more competent and don't fight like rabid raccoons. But things take a dark turn when they turn sixteen.

Marinette

. After finding out that his father is Hawkmoth, Adrien is unable to carry the weight of being the holder of the cat Miraculous, as he doesn't want to fight his father and gives it to Ladybug. He promptly moves to the States to further his modeling career. Marinette, unable to find someone else worthy to be the holder of the cat Miraculous, stores it away and becomes the sole hero of Paris (with occasional helpers). But because of this, her two lives get more intertwined, and she is forced into a corner where she has to choose between being Ladybuy or Marinette.

. But she doesn't get a chance as Hawkmoth is dethroned and replaced by an even greater threat. She is forced to take on the persona of LadyNoir. Her life crumbles as she tries her hardest to balance her life as a hero and a person. She tries to save everyone but someone always ends up getting hurt. Whether it be her as Marinette, clinging to what little of her life is left. Or her as LadyNoir, with no choice but to watch innocent civilians die because she couldn't think of a better plan that could've saved everyone.

. It gets to the point where she makes an unforgivable wish. But every wish has a cost. She only finds out the price when she is forced to stand behind an invisible wall and watch as her life replays before her eyes, the film slowly burning away till there's nothing left. She cries as she falls into an ocean of familiar Lazarus green.

Danny

. Danny's life is also crumbling around him as he struggles to separate his human life from his ghost half. But after becoming the Ghost King, things only became more complicated and even more dangerous as more ghosts started coming through the portal to challenge him for the crown. And while he would really love to give it away, the guys that kept fighting him for it are very clearly evil. So he has to keep fighting, winning, and solidifying his position as the King of the Infinite Realms. But with every win comes a newfound power. Power he doesn't want. Power that scares him.

. It gets to the point when Danny has to drop out of school. He wasn't even scoring double digits anymore so what was the sense of keeping him? But Danny couldn't stay home either, it was too dangerous as his ghost and human halves were slowly becoming one. And his parents' obsession was slowly becoming a threat to him. He thought he had the solution. He was going to shut down the portal and leave Amity Park.

. It was perfect really, as no ghost portal meant no ghost. And he couldn't be vivisected if neither the GIW nor his parents could catch him. He talked the plan over with team phantom and they reluctantly agreed. The ghost portal is destroyed, and Danny leaves Amity and files over Elmerton and a few other towns. But after flying for a while, Danny gets to a sort of border where nothing meets... NOTHING. On the other side was just an infinite void. Nothing.

. Danny slowly realizes that in this world, all he knew was Amity Park. He never actually traveled or went on field trips. Never went to visit extended family nor did any visit. No one 'new' ever came to Amity Park because they were all just nearby. He learned no relevant history besides Amity Park because there was nothing outside of Amity Park. When the realization had finally set in the world began to crumble into the void and it became a race against him and the void.

. Danny knew that he was fast but the void was faster, and before he knew it he was back in Amity. He was going to warn them and try to save as many people as he could. But saw something in their eyes. They already knew. Danny watched how teary eyes and big smiles, everyone and everything he loved crumbled into the void, fading into nothingness.

Scientists across the galaxy, the universe even, often theorize about how everything came to be. Well, it didn't start with a bang, that's for sure. 'Well then how did it start?' you might ask.

Well..., it started with some tears and a scream.

[nina-renmen]

You’re mine pt.3

Pt.1 Pt.2

Warnings: Yandere themes, talks of alcohol, possessiveness, Minors DNI (This is a black reader fanfic. Please do not ask me to change that. Thank you 😄)

Y/n had slipped away from Price’s grasp. She slipped away when he thought he had a tight grasp on her. Her response had shocked him, but what else should he have expected? You’d only known him for a month, of course you’d choose your family.

Deep down price knew you were lying. The more he dug deeper into your personal life the more he found out about you and your family. You were close to your father but had cut off ties with your mother. He realized just how big your family tree was, you had family in the CIA. Family in the military that were captains just like him.

‘This might be harder than I thought.’ Price thought to himself. He was seated in the darkness of his office. His computer screen illuminating light on his face. He’d need a better approach. He couldn’t just separate you from your family when they were generals and CIA. He’d have to get you to willingly separate yourself. And even that was a risk. You were climbing up the ranks fast, just as expected which left Price in a time crunch. Price groaned in frustration, standing up from his desk, flicking the lights on.

A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts. The person on the other side waiting to enter at his command. “Come in.” Price’s voice rang out. He already knew it wasn’t Laswell, she comes in without waiting for his approval.

The door opened revealing y/n who was now a lieutenant, like ghost. She had a guilty expression on her face. One that she so desperately tried to hide. A tray of food in her hands . One that consisted of bread, rice and soup. “I got dinner for you….i didn’t see you down at the mess hall.” The darker female spoke. She placed the tray on the cherry oak desk that was littered with paperwork. Immediately Price closed the laptop, raising suspicions but y/n did not comment on it.

“You’re not the type to be….affectionate like this.” John stated, folding his arms over his chest. “I wanted to apologize for earlier this week. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t care for you or -“

“I get it….No hard feelings.” John spoke, looking over at your form. “I know I just sprung it on you. I should be apologizing, let me take you out to dinner. As a date.”

Y/n looked conflicted, causing Price’s eyes to narrow. Had someone spoken ill about him? Just as the older male were about to speak up one more y/n nodded. “Yeah….that sounds nice.” Prices expression changed before y/n got a good look at him. He needed to reel her in, he needed her to drop her guard around him. It was obvious she’d never been spoiled before. She’d never been showered with gifts, maybe that was his opening. “How does Friday at seven sound?”

That one, small nod from y/n was all he needed. He’d pick out a dress for her to wear, slowly get her to depend on him until she no longer needed to be in the military anymore.

Throughout the week he found out her favorite color, flowers and food. By the time Friday rolled by Price had a reservation to a restaurant locked in place. Y/n was notorious for staying on base when everyone else was out and about or back home. Currently it was the former.

Standing in front of the mirror, y/n fiddled with the fitted dress. She felt exposed in it, she tried everything. Wearing a cardigan, to wearing tights with it until y/n decided to change the dress. ‘I’ll just say it was too small.’ Y/n thought to herself as she changed into a red dress and throwing a cardigan over it. Leaving it unbuttoned she opened her office door.

“You’re not wearing the dress I picked out.”

Y/n yelped at the voice. Prices looming form startled her. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” She put a hand over her heart, settling down from the scare. “But….no. I’m not. It was too small.” Y/n lied through her teeth as she closed and locked her office door.

‘That dress is the same size.’ Price thought. He already went through her clothes to find out what was her size. He didn’t care about morals or privacy at this point. Brushing it off Price tried not to think about it. Instead he gave y/n the flowers he’d bought earlier that day.

Y/n looked at him almost surprised that he’d gotten her flowers. A bouquet of dark, red roses were decorated in only a manner you’d see in movies. “I didn’t know what you wanted so….I thought this would be my best bet.” Price lied. He’d done plenty of stalking research to find out what you liked. He could see the sparkle in y/n’s eyes. A bright smile on her face as she gently took the red roses. “They’re gorgeous.” She said, playing with one of the soft petals. “They smell amazing….Thank you.”

Price felt a small swell of pride in his chest. If he kept this up maybe things might go his way. “Wait right here. I think I have a vase.” Y/n said, going back into her office. She left the door open so Price could step in. Her office wasn’t something he expected. Little trinkets that looked like they were made from children sat on her shelves. A picture frame sat on her desk, facing away from him. He leisurely walked in behind y/n. Picking up the picture frame while y/n fiddled with the bouquet of roses. Price’s eyes narrowed. One of the generals that resembled y/n was in the photo. His arm slinked around y/n’s waist, a graduation hat on top of her head. He looked older. His salt and pepper hair was prominent, showing off his old age. ‘That’s definitely her father.’ Price thought to himself, putting the frame back down.

“Okay, I’m ready.” The sound of the vase making contact with the mahogany shelf. The red roses were now damp, small droplets of water resting on the delicate petals. Price found his arm snaking around y/n waist, leading the female out of her office and to his vehicle.

Y/n found herself siting across from Price. Her gaze tracing the details and art that were on the crevices of the menu. She furrowed her eyebrows, a nervous look on her face. ‘Why is everything on here so fucking expensive?’ Y/n thought, her gaze locked into the prices. ’50 pounds just for a lobster? You’ve got to be kidding me.’

Y/n was starting to regret not eating before this date. What if she ordered too much food? The cheapest thing was the lobster itself and y/n wasn’t really into seafood like that.

John could practically feel the nervousness radiating from y/n. He could tell her eyes were locked onto the prices of all the items. “Don’t worry about the prices. This is my treat.” His voice easing the female’s nervousness.

Before she knew it the waiter had come over. John spoke up before her ordering his drink as well as attempting to order one for y/n. “I don’t drink…” Y/n said, gently cutting him off making the waiter pause. Her pen stopped moving before crossing out the wine that Price had just ordered for you. “You don’t?” Price asked. He thought he’d heard her wrong but y/n only shook her head. Price sat back, allowing y/n order the choice of drink she wanted. As soon as the waiter had left to retrieve their beverages, John spoke up.

“I thought I’ve seen you drink wine before.” It was almost as if John couldn’t believe it. He thought he knew everything about you. But apparently, you’ve changed.

“That was probably a soda…or cranberry juice. I stopped drinking a few years ago.”

Price nodded. You had your reasons, the male wouldn’t question you. Instead he changed the subject, wanting to ease up the mood. “Do you believe this soulmate system works?”

Y/n looked up from her menu. Looking at him through her lashes. “I’m not sure…” Y/n truthfully answered. “I’ve seen soulmates fall apart and I’ve seen others thrive. To me it’s a hit or miss. Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean we are one hundred percent compatible.”

Good, you weren’t gullible. Maybe it would’ve been easier if you were. But who know who or what could’ve snatched you up by now if you were.

By the end of dinner John had found out more about you. It was better than he’d expected. When the check came out y/n took a peek at it before John could grab it himself. Sneakily she put her card in it. Setting it down next to her for the waiter to come back.

“What are you doing? Give me the check.” Price chuckled, going to reach out for the slip but y/n only pulled it away. “It’s three hundred pounds…you can pay for the next one.”

“Oh? So youre thinking about letting me take you out again?” Price asked, a shit eating grin crossed his face as y/n spoke up, “Hm….maybe.”

”Then let me pay. It’s the least I can do for letting me take you out.” There seemed to be a small rivalry between the two. Y/n kept the check close by her, waiting for the waiter to come by again to grab it. As y/n spoke her guard began to drop. “Thank you but-hey!”

Price had leaned over, swiping the check from y/n’s hands. He replaced her card with one of his own, giving back y/n’s card with a cheeky grin on his face. Lady luck seemed to be on his side because the waiter came back around. Taking the check from price and running it through the system before coming back.

As they left the restaurant y/n’s arms unconsciously snaked around Prices arm. Before she even knew it Price led her to the passenger side, opening the car door for her. She could feel her cheeks warm up, thanking the heavens that her skin tone didn’t allow people to see her blush. Y/n’s arms unwrapped themselves from price. Thanking the older man, she got in. The sound of the passenger side door closing before everything was silent seemed to calm her.

Her mind replaying the events that had happened earlier in the night as price got in next to her. The sound of the engine roaring bringing her back from her thoughts. By the time they’d arrived back in the base it was dark out. The street lamps nearby were on and the crickets chirped around them. “I had a nice time with you.” Y/n spoke, her steps slowing down as she neared her office.

“If you let me take you out more often you could have fun with me all the time.” Price said. Pulling one arm up, leaning on the doorway. “I’d like that.” Y/n whispered, pulling her purse closer to her. Without thinking y/n leaned over kissing his cheek. Giving him enough time to pull away or stop.

Before y/n could freak out over what she had just done John grinned. Pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll pick you up next Wednesday. Try to wear what I buy you this time…yeah?” John asked, pushing away the pieces of hair that fell in front of y/n’s face before stepping away, bidding y/n a goodnight.

By the time John had made it to his own chambers he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A red, lipstick kiss mark was on his cheek. The poor man almost didn’t want to wash it off.

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero chapter 2

masterlist | taglist | AO3

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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost doesn't know what to do. He looks for Riley everywhere, with no results. He slowly loses his mind and does something he hasn't done for a long time… You wonder who and where Riley has been with all these years. How he found you? Why is he wearing that weird vest? And above all, where is the person who put it on him?

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I didn't expect so many comments, likes… everything… Thank you for this, it motivates me a lot. Unfortunately, what everyone probably expects doesn't happen in this chapter… or maybe it does?^^ I plan to add new chapter once a week. However, I have more free time this week, so I will add the next part in a few days.

Chapter 2: The one with(out) Riley

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Day 730

You & Riley

It had to be Riley.

Of all the things you dreamed of all those lonely nights. About family, friends. Everything you've been longing for. You missed him the most. For your beloved dog. I t wasn't like the other family members were important to you. You just knew and pretty quickly came to terms with the thought that you wouldn't see them again.

It was difficult, hard. However, the realization of the unpleasant truth and mourning in such strange and new lonely conditions passed. The loss of the dog was unexpected and sudden. And knowing from day one that many animals somehow survived. Somewhere deep in your heart you felt that Riley was just there. And eventually, one way or another, you will be together again. But you thought it would happen after you died.

Not now. And not like that.

The dog was so happy to see you that he jumped at you with his front paws, trying to put them on your shoulders, but he was so excited and exhausted that he hit you with full force, pushing you. You hit the ground with a loud thud, crushed by the mass of the dog who was now licking every inch of your body, clothed or not. It didn't matter to him at all.

"Oh my god Riley...stop it, oh fuck" as you try to get out of the weight you don't know if you're in pain or if you're happy or shocked.

You're going through a million emotions. Many thoughts are running through your head. You have so many questions. So much confusion.

"Riley, man, calm down... I know, I know..."

You're trying to say something and at the same time get rid of the dog that has gained a lot of weight after these two years. Not only was he handsome, but he looked like a decent dog. Adult, mature. After many attempts, you finally manage to sit down, the dog seems to let go for a moment, panting loudly and sticking out his tongue. You look at each other as if each of you wanted to express and tell you everything that happened and what you felt during these months of separation.

Riley still had that incredible wisdom in his eyes, something that made him seem so human. This was one of the features that made him easy to recognize. The second thing was the fact that, unfortunately, before he came to you, when he was a puppy he lost part of his left ear. That's why as soon as you saw an animal running towards you, in a split second you knew it was him.

It was something so incredible, even impossible.

And you remember your mother's words the day the puppy showed up at the door of your family home 

"Fucking miracle"

Scratching Riley's ear, you shook your head in amusement and whispered, barely audible

"Yes Mommy, you were right… as always. He's a miracle."

Now you were just curious about the person who had kept Riley alive for so long and kept him in such great shape.

Slowly standing up, brushing off the dust from your clothes and wiping your cheeks, which were wet with dog saliva. You looked around the area, not seeing another living creature.

“Riley, who did you come with? Where is this person?”

You asked the companion next to you, grabbing your backpack and slowly walking in the direction the dog came from. However, the wounds on your feet from the long walk were so painful that you had to give up after walking a few steps.

“So, I guess we'll have to wait here for this mysterious Ghost?”

Walking towards a small building that was probably an energy building. Hoping that there will be a working power supply with electricity inside. which the tower still works and sends a signal, from time to time you looked with a smile at the dog which was glued to your leg and was following along with you.

For the first time in a long time, you smiled.

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Day 731

You & Riley

Nothing, silence, emptiness.

As if the arrival of the dog didn't change much. And it changed practically everything. The world took on new colors for you, you felt that it was a signal, a sign. Whatever. Something refreshing that restored meaning to your life after such hopeless and miserable, long and lonely months.

And somewhere deep inside you believed that someone would eventually show up. And after many hours of sitting in a dingy little building next to the tower, you lose hope again. Maybe Riley's arrival was everything you deserved in this new life.

When trying to get more comfortable on a concrete floor, you need to be careful with your dog. With every movement you make, even the smallest one, Riley raises his head and looks at you. He gets closer if you move your body away from his just the slightest. As if he was afraid that you would disappear from his sight again.

The night and half of the day passed. No one came at noon.

Like the mysterious Ghost, sleep never came.

“Darling, I'm so tired... everything hurts,” you say quietly, stroking the animal's fur with your hand.

 “Riley, I think we should wait a little longer, maybe one more day?” You look towards your backpack. Unfortunately, all the supplies you had packed were slowly running out. Your water supply would last for another day. Maybe if you saved more for the next two days. You had food for two or three days. However, you didn't expect before that you would have to count all the food and water for two.

It wasn't a problem. At all.

“Oh boy… you don't know how glad I am that you're here with me,” you muttered, placing your hand on the dog's body, finally falling asleep.

And the last thought was that in two years you haven't said as many words as today.

And it wasn't a problem. At all.

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Day 730

Ghost

Ghost felt like he was slowly losing his mind. That he's about to go crazy. Since all this happened, this whole cataclysm, the apocalypse. The end of the world... Everyone could call it whatever they wanted. That damn Day Zero. The man was able to organize himself in all this chaos, pursue his goals, plan and live. From day one, everything made sense, meaning, some direction for him.

Planning, patterns, predictability. Sticking to the schedule, drill.

His years in the army prepared him for this. It was in his blood.

So now that there had been no sign of Riley for over 24 hours, the only living being for whom he got up and went to sleep every day, it all made no sense. His life had no meaning.

Yesterday when he left the fucking house with a pillow in his hand that he took for the dog. In terror, he ran around the area shouting the dog's name, hoping that it would appear soon. Ghost was under the illusion that Riley would run around  the corner with some prey in his mouth. Wagging his tail happily.

Nothing like that happened.

Ghost, in his madness, destroyed several objects he encountered on his way. Screaming loudly and cursing. This couldn't be true. Something bad must have happened. The dog had been clinging to Ghost continuously for 2 years. Even when he taught him to hunt or search in new unknown locations, the dog was able to return to the man.

Why wasn't he there now?

Ghost finally went home after many hours of frantic searching. All the time he was wondering what else he should do to make his friend come back to him.

When he finally reached a safe place and parked the car, he looked around the area, hoping Riley had found his way home, and stuck his tongue out, wagging his tail. That the dog would be sitting outside the house, waiting for Ghost.

Unfortunately, to the man's horror, there was no sign of any presence.

Ghost felt under his skin that if he was left alone, he would lose ground. And his entire planned, arranged life will collapse day by day like a house of cards.

The house seemed unusually quiet and empty. Even though every space, every corner, cabinet, shelf and floor was filled with objects that the man had collected for two years. Supplies, clothes, items needed for survival. He was proud of how easily and quickly he adapted to the new challenge. How he was able to find himself alone, without other people.

This was another difficult and important mission for him.

I'm sitting in a chair at a large oak desk. He converted the room into an office where he kept maps, important documents and books. Ghost leaned back in the leather chair and closed his eyes.

He was afraid of this moment. Yes, he expected that one day he would be alone again. That he would have to say goodbye to his best companion. However, a German Shepherd should live up to 13 years. Maybe Riley would have lived another year or two in good health. Ghost was ready for this terrible situation. But that was to happen in the future. Someday, when they're both ready. In many years. In at least 9-10 years. That was the plan. That was the assumption.

And now Ghost was staring at the blank white ceiling, feeling like his world had collapsed once again.

The first was the death of his family.

The second time was when his teammate died.

Third… no, no, no. This couldn't happen again.

"No!" the man growled loudly, getting up from his chair and hurrying towards the room that was now the large pantry.

He must have had something strong to drink. Bloody hell. He had to drink that fucking brandy.

It's been a long 730 days since Ghost last dipped his lips in alcohol. Two years of sobriety.

And a drunk lieutenant meant something very dangerous. 

Pure madness. 

If someone showed up at Ghost's door now. The person should step back and leave without hesitation. And never come back. For your own safety. Your pathetic life.

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Day 732

Walking towards the city in the morning, with your dog by your side, you felt as if the world smiled at you and let you go back to your happy years. When you were younger and Riley was just a few months old puppy. This is exactly what your mornings looked like. You were walking along quiet streets somewhere on the outskirts of your city, enjoying the new, sunny day. You usually went to your favorite cafe and bakery, then went to the park with your dog. Lazy, ordinary mornings.

Unfortunately, now despite the idyllic landscape, peace and quiet, greening grasses and trees. Nothing else here was like back then.

Silence, deserted, ruined buildings.

Even though the world changed completely that day, the city looked remarkably good and clean, the main roads were passable, cars and other things on the road had been moved so that one lane was empty. You decided to go to the center and plan further walking there.

You entered several buildings and checked several vehicles.

Weird. All the more important and necessary things you could find in these places are gone. Medicines, canned goods. Batteries, clothes, shoes. The fuel from the car was drained, batteries, light bulbs and other things from the engine were removed.

The city looked like someone had definitely lived there after Day Zero. For a long time.

However, after a few hours of walking around empty streets, you decided to enter the last building where you expected to find at least a few drops of water. Even fermented, rotten food. Whatever.

“Riley, come on, one more place and we're going back to the tower, maybe Ghost will show up tomorrow?”

you lightly pulled the dog's leash. The dog was still sitting on its hind legs, looking in the opposite direction from which you had come.

You didn't have time to react.

Focused on the dog, you leaned down to give him the command again to finally move.

You didn't have time to do anything else.

Shot.

And the whistle of the bullet.

That's all you heard...

You didn't have time to do anything else.

taglist: @leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles

[floralpascal]

The Ghost of You

Summary: After you go on a months-long mission without Ghost, he’s left to reconcile the ever-increasing loneliness that’s left in your absence.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: Mature (But the series is explicit, so 18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, secret relationship, little hints of agonizing over feelings, fluff, mention of sex, a metaphor that mentions drugs, Ghost getting a little overstimulated

A/N: I know I promised this one would be more fluff than angst… but apparently I can’t help myself

This series: Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

Loneliness was a sly, malicious sort of pain. Before a person could realize how deep the affliction ran, it was already too late. They were already drowning in it. 

It started, as it often did, in Ghost’s dreams. You haunted him often in them, that was no surprise. Hell, sometimes it was a good thing — depending on the type of dream. But recently, the dream version of you wasn’t right next to him like you usually were. At first, you were just out of reach, the ghost of a woman he could never seem to catch up with. So close, yet so far away. Even when the dreams weren’t the kind that he wished he could forget, the distance between you filled him with a sense of unease that he couldn’t shake until long after he awoke. Slowly, the dreams morphed, always leaving you farther and farther from him and in increasing peril. What the danger was or where you were, he never quite knew. All he knew was that he had to close the distance, he had to catch up to you. But he never could. 

The dreams had begun to leave him more on-edge than he was willing to admit. 

Maybe they would’ve been more tolerable if he would have woken to find you next to him or — at least — been able to see you at some point in the day. Instead, the only contact Ghost had with you was with the ever-elusive ghost of you in his dreams. 

Price had taken you on an operation with him three months ago. When you had left, no one knew how long it would take, especially seeing as it was likely to take you to several countries. It was a delicate operation — one Price was working with an old friend — that could use someone with your swiftness and precision. Much to Ghost’s annoyance, it did not require his particular skill set and he was needed on a base in England for the next few months anyways. 

“Don’t worry about me. It’ll be fine, Simon,” you had assured him, easy confidence in your voice as you traced the edges of his mask with your finger. You laid in his bed, completely bare merely hours before you would catch your plane. “Just don’t go missing me too much.”

As weeks turned into months without seeing your face or hearing your voice, the only contact coming in the form of small updates from Price, Simon found himself truly without you for the first time in forever. Since you had joined the 141, you had almost always worked with Ghost, even when the team had to split up to do separate missions. Being without you for so long would’ve felt wrong even if there was no personal component to his relationship with you. 

But there was. 

Sometimes, late in the night, he would forget and start to consider how he could sneak over to your quarters and into your bed. Or he would hear a set of footsteps approaching and think for a moment it might be you. The realization always came to him, each time more biting than the last. 

If he thought you occupied his mind before, you had truly conquered it now. The ghost of you always there. Would you have chuckled at Soap’s joke? Would you have given Gaz a hard time for his favorite football team’s huge loss? What witty, teasing remark would you whisper in Ghost’s ear as you passed him in the hall?

Those questions only led to more. Were you thinking of him? Was he haunting you like you were haunting him? 

Were you okay? 

The space you left felt like a cavern. The dull ache of it gradually spread, taking hold deeper and afflicting more and more of him until he finally had no other option than to admit it. 

It was lonely without you. 

When you were next to him, it was easy to forget what life was like before you joined the team. Before you had wound your way into virtually every aspect of his life with him hardly noticing. Your current absence, however, made this fact painfully obvious to him now.

The days were dimmer, his usual tasks almost unbearably tedious. He had never realized how much he looked for your presence before — or how plentiful it was — until it was gone. He had come to rely on your witty banter while you both did paperwork, your never-ending input on his decisions, and the hidden, imperceptible touches of your hand against him throughout the day. 

It surprised him how much he missed your touch. Out of all the things he missed about you, it was the lack of your soft skin against his that left him endlessly irritable. Enough so that even Soap had noticed that something was wrong, though the Sergeant knew better than to push this subject.

What made him even more irritable were the worries he had about your safety. At least when you were by his side in the field, he could try to protect you. He could do something. There was something agonizing about being unable to even know if you were in danger, let alone do something about it. Ghost had never thought himself to be a worrier, but now he found himself unable to stop. But why was he surprised? He had always worried on some level even when you were right there next to him. Now, the feeling was simply multiplied by uncertainty. 

As Ghost sorted the clean mixture of black, green, and camo laundry in front of him on his bed, he found himself finally being able to put a name to the feeling he felt: emptiness. It described loneliness better, he thought. Loneliness implied that there was a space left that no one had ever occupied. Emptiness, however, left him with the distinct impression that there was a space left unoccupied that was supposed to be occupied. Like someone had once been there and now their absence left a gaping hole. 

You bloody sap, he thought to himself as he laid another worn, soft green shirt onto a stack. Even his own chastising didn’t help.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ghost silently sighed, rolling his eyes. He ignored the knocking at his quarters’ door as he resumed his sorting. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ghost simply called, “Go away.”

He knew what Johnny was here for. The man had pestered him to go with him to some concert at a local pub tonight for days now. Apparently, he didn’t want to take no for an answer.

The door handle jiggled before the door swung open, a line of privacy that he thought Johnny knew much better than to cross. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” Ghost snapped as he whipped around to face him. “What d’ya think you’re-?”

But when his eyes landed on the doorway, Ghost froze, his eyes going wide as he stopped dead in his tracks.

It wasn’t Soap. It was you. 

You. Not the amorphous phantom of you that had haunted him for so long. Undeniably, you. You wore your usual black tee tucked into camo pants, looking rumpled and a bit disheveled. It hit him then that you must have just gotten back. Your eyes were tired and wide, but a small smile still clung to your lips. Even though you had been the one to seek him out, you seemed almost as surprised to see him as he was to see you.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving the two of you alone and in private as you both simply stared — almost disbelieving — at the other. 

You took him in as your shoulders relaxed. 

“Simon,” you sighed, relief dripping from the word. It hung in the air, feeling like it had physical weight to it. 

You stepped forward tentatively, your eyes drinking him in for the first time in months. 

Suddenly, you were in his embrace. He didn’t know if you had thrown yourself there, if he had pulled you in, or if some mix of the two had occurred. His brain was too busy still catching up with the fact that you were really here. That the warmth he felt in his arms was you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands clutching at him as if he might turn into smoke and disappear at any moment. He wrapped his strong arms tighter around you to pull you closer so that any and all space was eliminated from between the two of you, not at all reluctant to seem desperate for this. For you. Maybe some part of him should’ve been mindful not to crush you, but you didn’t seem to mind. You only melted into his embrace even more, your body slumping against his. Wordlessly burying his face in the crook of your neck, he let the long-forgotten scent of you wash over him. 

He had imagined what you both would do when you saw each other again a ridiculous number of times in the last three months but, surprisingly, none of them had gone like this. There wasn’t a sense of lust in the air. There wasn’t any witty banter. There was only the overwhelming need to be close. To simply feel that the other was really here. It conveyed something that words or sex simply couldn’t. A silent, languid, but no less urgent discussion. It felt like recharging after running on low battery for much, much longer than either of you had ever been meant to operate on. This was more than enough, almost too much and not enough at the same time. But that was what being with you was often like.

You both stood there for a while in each other’s embrace. When it became obvious that neither of you were ready for this to end any time soon, Ghost detached from you only enough to gather the just-sorted clothes on his bed and toss them haphazardly to the floor. He pulled you down to lay with him, fully clothed and overwhelming. Your touch soaked through his clothes and through his skin like a drug that he had been suffering withdrawals from.

He found himself lying in the same position with you that he had the night before you left: facing you, his legs entangled with yours, and his arms around you as you ran a finger along the fabric of his mask. The feeling was so fine, yet so strong it sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Missed you,” he whispered, so soft he didn’t even know if you had heard it. The words felt flimsy, useless to describe what he had truly endured. Even if he could describe that, however, he still may not have been able to say the words. It felt too dangerous to put something so vulnerable out into the world like that. Historically, it had always bit him in the arse in the end. Uttering the two simple words he had was already a Herculean feat. 

“I thought I told you not to,” you countered, but it wasn’t a true rebuttal. He couldn’t tell if it was for your own need to hear his voice once again or if you could tell that his admission had taken a lot from him and he needed your wit to lighten the conversation. By the way you longingly studied his face, he placed his bet on both.

He shrugged. “Didn’t listen.”

You looked at him lazily, your expression turning serious once again. “Neither did I. I missed you, too.”

If his senses hadn’t already been overwhelmed by your sudden reappearance, he was sure your admission would’ve hit him harder. He stored it away for another time when he had more clarity to devote to unpacking it. 

To unpacking what any of this meant for the two of you. 

Part of this job was being apart. At any moment, the two of you could be ordered to the opposite ends of the world for an undisclosed amount of time. Maybe at one point in this relationship that would’ve been possible for the two of you. Now, even the thought caused physical sharp, searing pain. 

You brought him back from his thoughts as your hands found the edge of his balaclava, eyes asking him for permission. It wasn’t like you needed to ask anymore — he had already given it to you the night that he first pulled it off of his head in your quarters — but you always did. Without fail, you always asked. 

He gave a curt nod, one that said you know you already have the answer to that question. 

Fingers grazing over his neck, you gathered the soft cloth before gingerly pulling it up and off of his head. Something about taking the mask off in your presence never ceased to make him hold his breath. Each time, you looked at him as if it were the first time again and, at the same time, as if it may be the last time you ever would. 

You took him in for a moment before slowly moving to capture his lips with yours. A soft, world-tipping affair. 

When his senses became overloaded, he pulled away, opting instead to tilt his chin up to place a kiss to your forehead. You scooted closer, tucking yourself under his chin before letting out a long, satisfied breath. Hands slowly traversing your back, he let his eyes fall closed as he simply took in the feeling of you against him again.

Even though he knew you couldn’t stay here all night — not on this base — he needed to take advantage of every second he had with you. Was he making up for lost time or trying to burn these moments with you into his memory in case of another extended time apart? He didn’t know. All he knew was the thought of enduring another second without you made him feel sick. 

Simon pushed the thought away. He didn’t need to think about it right now. You were here in his arms once again, solid and real. And like this, that feeling of emptiness he had grown accustomed to for months was long gone. 

[linkemon]

Beauty is only skin deep (yandere) Schoenheit Vil x Reader x LeBlanche Neige

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Other oneshots can be found here.

ɴᴇɪɢᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴠɪʟ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ? ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜsᴇᴡᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ᴏғ ʀᴀᴍsʜᴀᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍɪᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ. ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪs ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴠɪʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇɪɢᴇ's ʟᴏᴏsᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ sɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ.

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀs ғᴏʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 5. 2. ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛᴇxᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴅɪsᴛᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

— I'm wishing for the one I love to find me... — The singing voice sounded closer and closer.

[Reader] looked around among the green trees, trying to find its source. At first, she was very scared when Grim told her that he had heard something or someone strange in their dormitory. She assumed they were ghosts but when she asked them about it, they denied it. So, complaining about the scared cat, she went to check the situation. There was nothing good to say about their crumbling and overgrown bit of school but it was still their corner. If any of the students came here just like that, she had to talk to them. Crowley wouldn't do anything about it anyway, as long as she knew the lazy headmaster. At worst, she could try to report it to the housewarden responsible for this person.

The girl passed another sad-looking bush. And behind it she saw an intruder. He chose a place near a well that had not been used for a long time. Its newer version was located in the main courtyard of the school, so it was forgotten by everyone. The bricks were covered with moss that tried to keep them in check. The boy rested both elbows on the unstable wall and stared at his reflection in the water below. She had to admit he had a beautiful voice. She had never heard the song but the notes were pure and seemed to permeate her entire being. The feeling with which he sang was truly moving. But that didn't change the fact that his uniform was definitely different from the ones worn at Night Raven College. Instead of black, he wore white.  What was someone out of high school doing here?  A beret with a red ribbon rested askew on his head. Only when she got closer to him did she realize that there were birds sitting on the hat. She took a few more steps and suddenly, out of nowhere, the boy was surrounded by a circle of animals. All the squirrels, mice, hedgehogs and even frogs in the area came out of their hiding places and stared at her accusingly, trying to separate her from the singer.

[Reader] stepped back. The crack of a branch under her shoe startled everyone, including the teenager. He stopped mid-sentence and turned towards her. Unfortunately, he leaned against the well where the bricks were loose. The girl grabbed his hand before he could fall into the dark abyss. The boy swallowed loudly. She could see him slowly realizing what he had just avoided.

— Thank you very much... ummm... what's your name? — Embarrassed, he still held her hand.

— I guess I should ask who you are first. You don't go to our school. I am Housewarden of the Ramshackle Dorm and for obvious reasons no one should venture here.

Was [Reader] lying?  Of course. No one issued any bans on staying in this part of the forest. That didn't mean the stranger would know about it. After the series of overblots and increasingly strange events that had occurred since she arrived at the magical school, she was fed up with trouble. She wanted him to just disappear and let her spend her afternoon doing something else. For example, buying the can of tuna promised to Grim.

— Really? I'm so sorry! — He grabbed both of her hands and closed them in his as a gesture of remorse. — I didn't know you weren't allowed in here! Director Ambrose didn't mention anything but I also admit that I was a little lost and...

If he was lying, he was really good at it. But for some reason it didn't seem like that to her. The brown eyes looked really sincere. There was a sparkle about them that she felt was missing from many NRC students.

— Who is Director Ambrose? — [Reader] asked, releasing her hands from his grip.

— Ah... he's the headmaster of the Royal Sword Academy. It's a twin school to yours. My name is Neige. Neige LeBlanche. — He smiled gently.

If such a school really existed, the girl had never heard of it before. She heard something about the Spelldrive tournament but she had other things on her mind at the time. Not that she'd ever needed it before. She learned many things about the world of Twisted Wonderland this way. By chance. Because to the people around her, many facts were so obvious that they couldn't even think of making her aware of them.

It seemed to her as if the boy was waiting for something. But she didn't know what for. So she decided to take pity on him and offer help.

— Well... I'll walk you to the exit — she said, moving forward.

On the way, Neige told her why he came to her school. It turned out that there was a festival every year that (as always) she had no idea about. He planned to appear as one of the participants, dancing and singing with his friends. The headmaster decided to take him with him to get used to the unknown place. Scratching the back of his neck, he admitted that he had never been very good at reading directions, which had landed him in the wrong place today.

— I think you sing really beautifully — the girl said, seeing the Ramshackle's gate in sight.

She had to admit that when she compared his voice to the singers she knew from home, none of them seemed to compare to him. He had kind of a charm to it.

— Did you hear that at the well?! — The embarrassed boy forced a smile. — It wasn't a big deal... although I'm glad you liked it! — he added quickly.

— You should take up music seriously. Do you play with your bandmates or something? — [Reader] asked.

— So you don't know anything? — His brow furrowed for a moment in surprise.

— About what?

So she had no idea he was a star. This was new to him. Usually everyone who met him knew who they were dealing with sooner or later.

— Neige! My dear, there you are!

[Reader] has never seen this man before. However, she could assume that he was the director of RSA. He was dressed in a long, dark blue robe. Again and again he stroked his snow-white beard and adjusted his glasses. Plus, he showed up with Crowley, which was definitely unusual.

— We have to go — the old man said, shooting a defiant look at the NRC director. — I'll see you at the festival. I wish you good luck! — he said not so sincerely.

— May the best win! — Crowley smiled maliciously.

All the ravens in the area began to squawk.

LeBlanche followed Ambrose but at one point he turned and ran back.

— I didn't ask for your name in the end! — He panted, resting his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

— [Reader] — the girl replied, casting a questioning glance at her headmaster.

The man shrugged and then walked away, leaving her without a word of explanation. She'll need to learn more from her first-year friends.

— See you at the festival! — With these words, Neige disappeared around the corner.

***

Vil looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was perfect. As always. It reflected the hours spent perfecting it. Healthy diet, training and sacrifices. Hours devoted to self-improvement. All this to become an actor that the crowds will love. And yet he won again. Neige LeBlanche. He got another role. Schoenheit was to remain a villain forever. He never managed to pass the casting for the main character. Maybe because good was never in his nature. Although in the case of his rival it was almost childish naivety, which honestly irritated him.

— Mira, Mira, who is the most popular actor of them all?

— Your search results are: Neige LeBlanche, Vil Schoenheit...  — The boy threw the phone on the couch. He didn't need to hear any further results.

All for nothing. He overcame so many difficulties to get here and was still in second place. Even after that stupid overblot he survived. The dark, sticky tentacles of too much magic were still stuck deep inside him. Not physically but in the mind. In the end, the doe-eyed boy mattered more to everyone around him. Even for Rook, whom he trusted so much. He didn't manage to survive his Fairest One of All, or poison Neige, or even win that stupid competition.

The only person who was still by his side after all this was [Reader]. Ramshackle Housewarden didn't hesitate to run straight to meet him as his curse lingered in the air. And although it annoyed him at the time that she was on the opposite side, he was aware that she did it for him. She told him about it when it was all over. She was the only one who was really there. Perfectly imperfect girl. So out of character with his image. And yet he fell in love. He fit it somewhere in his busy life, full of fame and fans.

So why did this thought bother him?  Did he really need to check this?  He shook his head. He had nothing to fear. He knew they were made for each other. It wasn't a test or a game. It was proof. Confirmation of how connected they are to each other.

He thought of the Big Seven. The Fairest Queen also used her talents. Astrology, potions and alchemy. All this to become better. Why shouldn't he be like her?  He should use his gift. Its fruit will be a beautiful gift. A certainty that they will keep with [Reader] as a couple forever.

He made some tea. Epel's family sent it. Their apple orchards had been popular since he advertised them on Magicam. He strained the grounds and poured the brew into a cup. Little. White. Pure as snow. With a gold pattern on the edges. Soft. It was easy to destroy if you weren't skilled enough.

He heard footsteps in the corridor and hesitated for a moment over the tray. Maybe doing it today wasn't a good idea after all.

— Sorry for being late. I bumped into someone on the way and stayed to chat. — [Reader] closed the door and sat down on the purple sofa.

— Ah yes? With whom? — Vil placed the sugar cubes on the silver tray.

The sugar, of course, was cane sugar. If they had to poison themselves from time to time, at least he'd do it with a slightly healthier version.

— With Neige — the girl replied after a short moment of silence. — We haven't seen each other since SDC.

The Song & Dance Championship. This unfortunate event was the moment when his life spiraled completely out of control.

His hand didn't shake as he sweetened the tea just the way she liked it. After all, he has been an actor for almost his entire life. Was he angry? NO. Perhaps rather disappointed that she was giving LeBlanche any attention at all.

— What were you talking about? — he asked.

— Mainly about you. He would really like to be your friend, Vil... I don't think he fully understands that you don't like him. Even after everything that happened between you two.

Friend. The word gave him a headache. For some reason this boy had made up his mind thinking that they could be anything more than enemies. Neige was as bright as the sun. Vil was like the moon. What he did best was reflecting its light. And no matter how many modeling sessions he undertook, how many articles he appeared in, how many fans he gained on Magicam, how many premieres he had, he was always the worse one. He hated him. So much so that he was ready to poison him a few months ago. He was glad he was stopped. Such a victory would not be worth little. One day he will overcome him in skill and achieve complete perfection. True beauty.

— I'm not going to be friends with him — Vil said firmly.

— I know. I won't push you to do it. I just wanted to tell you this because we'll probably be seeing more of him.

— Why? — He sat down across from her, setting the tray on the gold-plated table.

— Crowley agreed to a new student exchange program. Some people from RSA will come to us for a few weeks. Grim and I were given quite a thankless task. We are to accommodate them for this time. None of the other housewardens agreed to have them under their roof. I didn't really want to give in but keeping this demon cat costs money. And Neige asked on behalf of Headmaster Ambrose.

Vil touched the magical pen hidden in his pocket and touched the cup with his finger. Maybe it was a good day to do it after all. It wasn't jealousy. It was just confirmation of what he already knew.  Fairest One of All . His unique spell that inflicts a curse under any condition. A dream from which only the kiss of true love can awaken. Wasn't it romantic?

His lover lifted the tea to her lips. She took a sip. The eyelids closed almost immediately. He saw surprise in her eyes. However, this expression was quickly replaced by a calm, sleepy face. He caught the porcelain before it could hit the floor.

He gently stroked her face with his thumb. She looked lovely taking a nap. But he had to wake her up. They didn't have all day.

— You'll still have plenty of time to sleep — he whispered.

With these words, he connected their lips. It was strange not to feel her kiss back like she had every time before. He moved away. He waited a few seconds but nothing changed. His heart started beating faster. He tried again. Still nothing.

He felt his thoughts speeding up. After all, he cast the curse correctly. He thought about every word. So why wasn't anything happening?

Heat rushed through his body as he helplessly tried to shake the sleeping girl. The truth dawned on him like a storm of applause piercing the silence after a performance on stage. His spell never lied. So there was only one explanation. They weren't a perfect couple. That's because Vil wasn't [Reader]'s true love...

***

Neige looked around the dormitory. It was obvious that the Headmaster was sparing his thaumarks when he came to Ramshackle. Old curtains, creaky floors and an unattractive surroundings. But that didn't change the fact that there was order here. Grim had already explained to him how hard work he had done (with a little help from the housewarden, not that he needed it, of course) to get the building up to date. And indeed, despite the old age, there was something cozy in colorful blankets, a plush sofa and an old TV.

It was nice here. At least in his opinion. The RSA students who came with him seemed to disagree. At least not everyone. One third-year tied a scarf around his head and began scrubbing the floor as soon as he arrived, complaining about bacteria. Several others, however, started arguing with the first people they met, saying that it was unfair for them to live in such conditions. He had known about the rivalry between the schools for a long time but he had a feeling that some people really exaggerated.

While Ramshackle itself wasn't that bad, it wasn't how he imagined his stay here would be. He hoped to study and spend time together. For a few quiet moments when he can enjoy his life as a student. He loved his fans and music was a big part of him but sometimes he needed a break. Meanwhile, when he arrived, he found a worried demon cat accompanied by worried ghosts. [Reader] slept for the third day in a row and couldn't wake up. Her worried friends, whom he knew from the festival, came to visit her. According to the headmaster, it wasn't a restorative nap but some kind of illness or curse. He was unable to say. The students from Heartslabyul discussed among themselves that Crowley was not making much effort to change the student's situation.

LeBlanche really liked [Reader]. It felt stupid to admit it but when they met, he wished at the well that he would find true love. He even threw the thaumark into the water. It disappeared into it with a soft splash. It's not entirely that the boy believed that his wish would come true. However, when the girl grabbed his hand, he felt that maybe fate was not just a fantasy he had read about in books. He sincerely hoped that he would get to know her better when he came as an exchange student. Their conversations rarely lasted long because he usually had to go back to school right away. He wanted to change that. However, he came across this unfortunate situation and now the only thing he could think about was how to help the bedridden person. Maybe he should join the protest Ace and Deuce were organizing. Her friends were very worried about her and said that they would not wait for the headmaster to graciously do anything.

Neige entered the room. Her condition still hasn't changed. She was breathing steadily. The sun streamed through the dusty window, illuminating her unnaturally pale face. There were students from Pomefiore in the room. He recognized Rook. The boy smiled warmly at him. After all, he was his first fan, which he found out during the festival. Epel, on the other hand, looked at him quite indifferently. He had to admit that his performance at SDC was truly great. The high voice he used was memorable. Vil, on the other hand, frowned when he saw Neige in the doorway. The boy put it down to being worried about his friend. It must have been really hard for him because he looked furious.

— Hi, everyone — he greeted them quietly, walking up to the bed.

— We were just leaving — Epel announced, pulling the vice housewarden behind him.

The blonde looked genuinely disconsolate that he had to leave. His friend was just the opposite. He must have had enough of sitting.

— How are you feeling, Vil? — the brunette asked, standing right next to him.

— How should I feel if my girlfriend has been lying here for three days? — The tone of his voice was as cold as ice. It pierced menacingly through the silence in the room.

— Girlfriend?

If there was one thing LeBlanche didn't expect, it was this. He had never heard that they were a couple before.

— We didn't flaunt our relationship.

Probably because of his career. In Schoenheit's industry, couples were viewed quite unfavorably. Single people were perceived better by fans. He knew something about it himself. Although in his case he had never had to choose before.

He looked at [Reader]. So he had been getting his hopes up all this time. He hoped that everything would be alright with her and that she and Vil would be happy again soon. And, although he felt a slight twinge somewhere near his heart, he decided to ignore it. His friend was a truly wonderful and hard-working man. No wonder she chose him.

He sat down on an old, worn-out stool, right next to the headboard.

— Ummm... hey, [Reader]. I don't really know what to say in situations like this. It's the first time I've encountered something like this — Neige laughed quietly. — I hope you feel better soon and...

— Don't you have anything else to do? — asked the blonde, giving him an angry look.

Vil was standing in a dark part of the room, away from the window. He crossed his arms over his chest. His high heels hit the old boards again and again.

That was not nice. Despite everything, the boy decided not to worry about his friend's words. He must have been nervous. It's natural in such a situation. He'll definitely get over it soon, so he had to be understanding.

— I'm leaving now — he nodded.

In fact, he didn't have much time to say anything. But he didn't want to upset Vil even more. He grabbed [Reader]'s hand. She was cold to the touch. He hoped she would be warm again soon. When she is healthy, they will talk as before. Even if only for a moment, he will be satisfied. He kissed her knuckles gently.

— Wake up quickly — he whispered.

He turned to leave the room. In his thoughts he prayed for the patient's quick recovery. Suddenly he heard a loud yawn. He couldn't believe his eyes. [Reader] was already awake. She rubbed her eyelids and looked around.

— Vil. — Her voice was quiet, but definitely not friendly. — She stared at her boyfriend, her fingers clenching the sheets.

She stood up, wobbling and Neige immediately ran over to help her stay upright. She was furious. He had never seen her like this before.

Loud laughter echoed throughout the dormitory. It was Vil. It started with a chuckle and then progressed to a mocking laugh.

— Him? — He pointed to the brunette. — Of all people it had to be him?

He pulled out his magical pen. A purple mist began to creep out from under his feet. Fairest One of All  flowed across the floor, trying to fill the room.

— Everything's all right? We heard… — Rook almost got hit by a spell.

Magic flew right above his head.

Vil stared ahead. He was aware of what was happening. He was on the road to the overblot again. Dark goo filled the crystal in his pen. Faster and faster with every second. And yet he had no desire to stop it. What was the point?

They were standing right in front of him. [Reader] in front. How it suited her. She was the first one ready to rush towards danger, despite her lack of magic. It's been like that since she got here. He was impressed by it. She was like a legendary prince in shining armor. Neige stood behind her. With his naive kindness as a shield against everything life threw at him. How idiotic. Like a damsell in distress.

— Vil, let's talk...

Prince and princess. Perfect couple. He was never allowed to play the main character. He was always the villain. So where he stood was his place on the stage. On the opposite side.

— True love's kiss! — He heard himself, as if from a distance, laughing hysterically.

Of all the possible people, it had to be LeBlanche. The man he hated. He had everything he always wanted. And now he even had her. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the approaching darkness.

If he couldn't become the hero, he would be the villain...

[shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck]

EXTREMELY interested in The Cube AU- Very fun already! Do you have any other details you could share? Like- The Gang's relationship? Or even how the Stars' felt about being cubed? How did the council even manage to send them there? How do the Gang, Error, and the Stars feel about their... transformation? How did Nightmare get the mask and do any of the others have odd curiosities on them too?

grab your popcorn this got kinda long. i mean i could have made it longer but i kept some things too be included in separate posts.

The gang at first kinda hated each other. to Nightmare they where his henchmen. he says he only gathered them to aid in his spreading of negativity. though deep down he knows this isn't why but is constantly convincing himself of it. Too be honest Nightmare was lonely , but he is constantly self sabotaging his chances of ever actually forming any sort of relationship with... anyone tbh. he's afraid It takes awhile for him to realize he doesn't want too nor have too be the demon he was told he was. he was the only thing keeping himself from feeling happy. Horror only really stayed because of the food promised to horrortale. He didn't like Killer at all and Dust didn't really interact with the gang much outside of missions and fighting with killer. Horror did start to make friends with Cross though. Mainly because cross wasn't stab happy, and also didn't waste food, or skip meals like Dust and Nightmare after Horror had already made food for everyone. Dust like stated before would be constantly avoiding everyone when he could. he spent a lot of time in random places around castle that where hard to reach. and even harder to find. he mainly talked to "Paps" a lot. In this au paps is just a hallucination not an actual ghost. The main reason he is avoiding everyone could be that killer takes any chance to antagonize him. Killer is sort of stuck in the mental loop of always trying to gain more exp. Kind of ironic tbh. most of his emotions are dulled and Fighting gives a sort of rush that too him feel.. something. So he is constantly chasing it. Cross doesn't really know why he's there tbh. he's kind of lost. their relationship slowly shifts too found family but it is certainly a journey. -

The Stars felt betrayed more than anything. They had spent years defending and trying to make the multiverse a better place. Dream already has that small voice in his skull telling him it was because he had failed somehow. That he wasn't good enough. Blue is left wondering just why... WHY. Ink is... confused. he hadn't messed up THAT bad right? he wasn't a terrible person... right? In reality it was partially due too the fact The stars would have tried to shut down the Cube if they had Known more about it. As far as they where concerned it was just a high security prison. They didn't know about how it was designed to essentially be an elaborate form of torture. a world where everything was uncertain, your own body untrustworthy, and everything wants you dead. Dream was starting to get suspicious when he was denied seeing his brother. -

Nightmare's mask has something to do with another character I've made. A scientist who helped make the Cube named Jane. I don't think I'll explain all of that here but i will include it when i post her character. -

As for other oddities and transformations... I think it's time to talk about the mutations caused by the change from magic based to something more physical. The claws on the ends of Nightmare's tentacles are an example, as well as the much less goopy nature. Goop wouldn't stay together without magic after all. Though Nightmare's changes are a little less visually different than some of the other mutations. Mutations are for the most part very very random though.

for Killer: Killer had three fingered hands, and a venomous bite. The hatred that dripped from his sockets is technically just a poison now. His soul kinda got fused with his rib cage so it just looks like a sort of target shaped burn scar in a way. it do glow tho.

here's a doodle of what his hands look like tho.

Dust was one of the more drastically changed individuals. it's possible his blaster attacks had somehow influenced his mutations so now he has a face like this:

when his jaw is closed he can almost pass for completely unchanged. His voice has a strange chittering too it now. the buggyness was completely unconnected too the blaster jaw. but it is there. Dust wears a scarf a lot too hide it.

Cross os the only other one i have Mutations made for atm. He got floof. and ears. honestly this was just kind of for fun

biiiiigg yawn.

he can 100% percent bite someones head off if he wanted too. I wasn't going for any sort of similarity too any animal in particular. but yea... floof... he poofs up if startled. anyways this was certainly a long answer huh :D i hope you enjoyed <3 if you want me too go in even more depth on any of these just ask and i will gladly do so.

[writeforfandoms]

Fall Into Me 5

Find the series masterlist

Rose has some issues, but fortunately, Soap is here to help! And Ghost shows up, possibly just to annoy Soap. 

Warnings: Swearing, mention of stealing, bad employee, bad work ethic, Rose is Very Tired. 

Word count: 2.2k

By Monday morning, Rose was exhausted. It had been a long time since she’d had to work so many days in a row, and she hated it.

Especially since Carmen hadn’t actually called in sick this weekend. Carmen just hadn’t come in. Or responded to texts or calls. 

Rose had a feeling she wouldn’t be seeing Carmen again. 

The usual Monday morning rush was hard. She was pretty sure her smile wavered a few times, the dark circles under her eyes visible. But nobody complained and she got everyone taken care of just a fraction slower than usual. 

It could have been much worse. 

She still made herself a coffee, adding some vanilla and hazelnut to it. She needed the pick-me-up today. 

“Mornin’, Rose!” Soap sauntered up to the counter, grin in place. He didn’t dim even as his gaze darted across her face, and Rose just knew he was cataloging the circles and the way her hair was fairly limp. “Long night?”

It was an easy out, and for a moment, she was tempted to take it. But he was also the first person to ask all day.

“Not exactly,” she admitted on a sigh. “Carmen’s vanished on me.”

“What?” He straightened a little, looking surprised. Then he hopped over the counter, ignoring her yelp. “No no, hen, you sit. I can handle making tea.” 

“You’re really not supposed to be back here.” Rose didn’t move, torn between letting him help and planting her feet. 

“Won’t touch anything but the tea, I promise.” Soap lifted the counter, flapping one hand at her. 

Rose wavered for a moment and then gave in with a sigh. The lure of the chair was too strong to resist. So she plopped herself in the nearest chair, rubbing her forehead briefly. This was a terrible idea if anybody else walked in, but it just… sounded nice to let someone else do this for her. Just this once. 

“Did you work this weekend?” Soap asked as he pulled down two mugs and the tea. He moved without hesitation, and Rose warmed at the realization that he’d definitely watched her go through the motions more than once. 

“And last weekend.” Rose groaned softly, squeezing the back of her neck to try and release some tension there. 

“Hen, how many days in a row have you worked?” Soap paused in his motions to look at her, concern clear.

Rose had to actually stop and think about that, counting backwards. “Today is 15.” 

“Go home.”

“Not a chance.” Rose crossed her arms over her chest, chin tilting stubbornly. 

Soap was silent for a minute as he brought the milk over to the table. “At least close up early.”

Rose huffed. “You’re not my boss.”

He sighed and hopped back behind the counter to grab their teas. For a moment, Rose thought she saw him on his phone, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing. “I’m not trying to boss you around, I’m trying to help you.”

Rose eyed him carefully as he set a mug in front of her. “Why?” In her experience, people wanted something in exchange. Well, most people. Family just butted in and did it because they could. (And also because they could hold it over your head for years.) 

He held her gaze for long moments, completely still. “Because it’s the right thing to do. ‘Sides, your smiles get me through the day.”

Rose couldn’t see any deception or lies in his expression, so she nodded slowly. “I’ll see how this afternoon goes, see if I can close up early.”

“Thank you.” Soap finally relaxed, sprawling back in his chair and lifting his cup for a sip. “How can I help you today, hen?”

Rose added milk and sugar to her tea to give herself time to think. She was… very bad at asking for help. Had been since she was a kid. Added to the fact that she tried to keep her work separated from her friends, and this became… messy. Not that Soap was a friend, really. He was just one of the nice men that worked upstairs and kept her entertained and provided her lots of eye candy and–

Okay. Nope. Putting a pin in that for now, before she got completely distracted. 

“Let me think about it,” she hedged, gaze focused on her tea. 

“The rest of my day is free,” Soap told her, leaning forward. Under the table, his foot nudged hers, drawing her gaze up to his gentle smile. “C’mon, hen, put me to work, I can handle it.” 

Rose chuffed a sort-of laugh, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t, really.”

“What, you think I can’t handle a few orders?” He rolled his eyes, hands spreading wide in exaggerated offense. “Ex-military, I can listen to orders.” He paused for a moment. “Mostly.” 

Rose snorted. “Well that makes one of us.” She sipped her tea, frowning a little. “I can’t pull you away from your actual work, Soap.”

“You can, Price already cleared it. I’m not mission critical today.” Soap shrugged, leaning forward. “If you don’t give me things to do, I’ll start finding things to do.”

That… sounded like a threat. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his grin widened to shit-eating proportions. Definitely a threat. “Fine,” she huffed. “Since you insist. But don’t complain to me if you don’t like it.” 

Which is how, twenty minutes later, Rose found herself teaching him how the espresso machine worked and how to use the milk frother. True to his word, he did listen to orders, and he picked it up pretty quickly. 

But Rose still kept a close eye on him through the lunch rush. He did better than she expected, honestly, and his energy helped her own. 

She was even humming along softly by the time the last person left, leaving the two of them behind the counter. 

“Close up early,” Soap suggested, tone a little wheedling even as he bumped his shoulder into hers companionably. “Lemme take you to lunch.” 

Rose sighed. “I dunno, I hardly ever close early.” She frowned down at the counter. 

“Won’t hurt to close early one day.” He was definitely wheedling, staying in her space, warmth bleeding off into the air between them. 

“Took one last week.” But Rose was just pointing it out to be stubborn, and she knew it. 

Soap caught her hand, ducking his head to hold her gaze. “You need some time to yourself and a good meal,” he pointed out gently. “You’ll feel better.”

“Do I have to worry about you caveman-carrying me out if I refuse?” She kept her voice dry, though her lips twitched with humor.

“Nah. That’s more LT’s style.” His grin was full of mischief.

“LT?” One eyebrow raised at him as she finished wiping down the counter. 

“Ghost.” Soap shrugged, looking a little abashed. “Old habits.” 

“If I ask, are you allowed to tell me how you all know each other?” Rose stepped around him to clean the espresso machine. 

“We all worked together.” 

Rose nodded, accepting that. “And now you still work together, just in a different way.”

“More or less.” Soap shrugged, going to do the few dishes that had accumulated. 

Rose sighed. “Let me count out the till and we can go.”

They got as far as the front door before Ghost joined them. Rose could have sworn there was nobody else on that floor, but she turned around from locking up and jumped at least a foot, because he was right there. 

“LT,” Soap greeted cheerfully enough, though he eyed the other man in a way that Rose hadn’t seen before. 

“Leaving already?” Ghost sounded faintly amused. 

“Going for some grub.” 

“Good plan.” Ghost waited until Rose started walking to fall into step next to her. Perplexed, she looked at Soap, who huffed but apparently decided not to argue. 

“Any thoughts, hen?” Soap held the building door open for her.

“For lunch?” Rose hesitated. There was a really good deli not far, but it was very much a Jewish deli. That could be a good soft test, actually, to see if they said anything. Plenty of people didn’t care, especially not in this day and age, but… She’d seen vitriol before and she had no desire to see it again. “Actually, there’s a really good place not far from here…” 

“Lead the way, then.” Soap winked at her. “You’re still in charge.”

“I doubt that,” Rose muttered, more to herself than anything. “Come on, then.” 

The walk wasn’t too long, and they’d missed the lunch rush so were able to be seated immediately. Rose let Ghost take the spot with better lines of sight, and was somehow completely unsurprised when Soap nudged her into the booth between the two men. 

“Nice place,” Soap commented, looking around with interest. It was decorated with celebrity photos and neighborhood photos, newspaper clippings from past community events, community awards, and pictures of the owner’s extensive family. 

“They’ve got great kreplach here.”

“Kreplach?” Soap nearly stumbled over the unfamiliar word. 

Rose paused, glancing between the two. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never been to a Jewish deli before.”

“Oh, been plenty of times,” Soap assured her, and her shoulders relaxed. “Matzo ball soup is my go-to.”

“Good man,” Rose agreed immediately. “Kreplach is a type of dumpling, it’s pretty good. They use the same base for the kreplach soup as they do the matzo ball soup here. Hmm, what else… The latkes are huge and tasty. Anything with the brisket is good, although they lean towards the barbeque end of the brisket, which is fine.”

Soap laughed quietly. “Been here once or twice then, aye?”

Rose blushed, ducking her head. “A few times,” she agreed. “It’s a favorite place of mine.”

Ghost pressed his knee to hers under the table in silent support. 

The waitress stopped by to get their drink orders before whisking away again. 

“It all looks good,” Soap grumbled. “I can’t decide.”

Rose laughed. “Yeah, I know the feeling. It’s all good.” She nudged Ghost. “You know what you want?”

He shook his head slightly. “Not hungry.”

She eyed him for a moment but nodded and let it go. “Soap? You know yet?”

He made a pained face but nodded, causing Rose to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. 

“Honestly, it’s not like you can never come back here,” she pointed out, still grinning. 

He just pouted, sending her into a fresh fit of giggles. 

But they ordered without fuss when the waitress came back, and then Rose leaned back into the booth with a little sigh. She already felt better just being away from the shop. The long days were hard. 

“You could stay closed tomorrow.” Ghost offered the solution neutrally, without judgment.

“No, weekdays are better for me than weekends.” She sighed, long and slow. “Just need to find someone to replace Carmen.” She paused. “And decide if I want to trust them with the cash or not.” 

“What do you mean?” Soap sat up a little straighter. 

“I didn’t mention earlier?” Rose drummed her fingers on the tabletop, looking away from the two men. “She took off with a few hundred dollars, looks like.”

Soap blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your doing.” Rose waved him off. “Just have to decide what I want to do going forward.” 

Soap and Ghost exchanged looks over her head, having an entire conversation in facial expressions and subtle hand motions. 

“That sounds like a tomorrow problem,” Soap decided, nudging her side with two fingers. “You still owe me knitting demonstration, hen.”

She barked out a laugh. “Seriously? You and Gaz, I swear. I don’t understand why you’re so curious.”

Soap shrugged. “Never had a chance to watch anybody making something.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Well, since you’re that curious, I’ll bring some in this week for sure. You’ll get bored within the first few minutes, guaranteed.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Soap grinned at the challenge. 

Their late lunch passed easily. Soap was easy to talk to, and Ghost was surprisingly good company, even if he didn’t talk much. Rose felt more relaxed by the time they left.

At least until she saw the rain pounding the pavement outside. 

“Hell.” She pouted at the rain and then up at the sky, shuffling outside and to the edge of the awning. 

“We could get a cab?” 

“That will take at least twice as long as walking will.” Rose shook her head, pulling her hood up. “I’m just gonna walk it.”

“We can walk you home,” Soap was quick to offer. 

Rose smiled up at him, reaching over to pat his arm. “You’re sweet, but no thanks. I’m good. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She tucked her purse under her jacket and then took off at a brisk walk, head ducked against the rain.