#wait that can't be right i did something wrong in here

[notlhecxzsa]

Never Wanted Love Just A Fancy Car - N.R

Summary: Time seemed to pass by so quickly, everything seemed to be moving past between Natasha's fingers, but would she let the only thing that seemed to be giving her everything go? It is not what she wanted anyways... right?

Author's Note: Hii! Omg, finally! I hope this is enough to fill the weeks I haven't updated, I kind of got lost and everything's piling up. But, now, I finally have a good vision on how I want this to go! This is 3k+ words.

Warnings: Starting of Mean!Natasha (ughhh, here we go), bruises, mentions of abuse, sad Y/n (give my girl back her dog and lucy!)

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3rd Person's POV:

A week has already passed by, a routine was set between Y/n and Natasha. Inside that week, Maria, Clint and the other noticed how Natasha stayed in the penthouse, which was very unusual, given that she mostly lives in the manor. They chose not to mention it around the red head, thinking that they might just be thinking too much about it.

Y/n already knows the whole penthouse by heart, keeping everything as tidy as possible even though Natasha had kept saying that she has people to do those things. Making different delicious meals for the both of them, even making extra more for Clint, Maria, Bucky and Steve whom she met on the 3rd day of being there.

Y/n's kindness and attentiveness did not go unnoticed by the people that would come and go inside the penthouse, her actions warms the head of the people around her and makes their stomach churn in a very good way.

Natasha's eyes never left the petite figure of her 'significant other' wherever she goes and whatever she does. The fluttering of her heart makes her want to throw up as the compliments from her friends about Y/n makes her eyes roll. Though, she can't deny that her friends seemed to enjoy going to the penthouse ever since Y/n came.

Late night games and movies became a thing for the past week and a half, 'addicting meals'—as to how Bucky proclaimed it to be, are always served, all while Natasha kept to herself, specifically on times when she and Y/n are not alone.

She felt a magnetic-like energy, rather work at home than to do the work she normally would choose to do. Her tongue burning to get a taste of whatever's being cooked in the kitchen. The little moments and conversation that was spent between the younger girl became something she cherished and most awaited every single day, even though she will never admit it—even to herself.

Now, at the very moment, Y/n was cooking in the kitchen while Natasha seemed to be having a very serious call on the balcony with someone. Y/n's eyes kept checking her over, eyes raking on the expressions she wear across the kitchen, to the living room and to the balcony. She wanted so badly to ask what was wrong, her inside a raging bull that kept pushing her to be there for her...wife.

Before she could even go deep inside her thoughts, the sound of the sliding door filled the air and she quickly looked down to what she was cooking. she was cooking, heavy footsteps was what it was followed, then those deep heavy sighs she's starting to get familiar with. She's stressed. Natasha is stressed.

"Are you-" She started, not even getting the chance to talk before Natasha's dominant voice went straight to her ears.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me. I just need to deal with something." Natasha's footsteps did not falter, not even a bit as she passed through the kitchen, leaving Y/n alone and confused, her heart and mind fighting wether should she check on the redhead or not.

This is the first time she witnessed the redhead so stressed—the first time witnessed Natasha going out to do something without even knowing what it is. Usually, there would be a follow up reason, a short explanation from Natasha without even asking. Now, she just acted so...weird. There wasn't much evidence that Y/n saw from how she just acted, but Y/n could feel it.

What happened?

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Back at the penthouse, silence enveloped the whole atmosphere as Y/n fixed the food inside the microwave, deciding to wait up for Natasha so that they could eat together. Surely, she won't be home late, right? She always gets home by dinner.

Deciding to spend her time waiting by the living room, turning on the TV to watch something. Her hand subconsciously going up to play with her ring finger, wondering when will the ceremony of their wedding will be. Her mind fantasizing how beautiful the even might be, her younger self's dreams might finally happen in just a few days.

Her mind flooded with questions. Will my parents be there? Will Lucy gonna be there? Tamtam? Her heart fluttering in excitement at the thought of the two latter. She don't know how the wedding will go, all she knows is that this is all about something between Natasha's parents and her's. But, it's a wedding, a special event, a matrimony, it has to mean something more than just a business plan, right? Right.

Even though she still has mixed feelings about her unknown relationship with Natasha, she kept learning on how to love her, that what a wife does, right? That's what they should do.

Clad in her usual clothing, leggings and a domesticated sweater with her hair up in a ponytail and strands of hair falling to the sides of her face. Her attention was swarmed by the announcement spoken by the reporter on the television.

"Stark's industry has once again published a new electronic device, setting a standardized testing all over the countries, even in Asia. But, nevertheless, we can see how Romanoff corporation is still on top of the business. Electronics, weaponry, and services for the people and the government...." A small smile made its way on her face, her heart beats with pride. She was proud. She took a mental note to congratulate the red head later, maybe that's where Natasha was going. To discuss about this, this should be something to be celebrated.

Her gaze averted down to her arm, where the sleeves of her sweater was slightly ridden up. There was a vivid bruising, already healing. Caressing it, her eyes fell into a solemn look, thinking of home. Tammy, Lucy. She just hopes they're doing good. Her parents would call her, asking how she is, spending only a minute to talk to her before the conversation is averted about Natasha.

Pulling up the sweater to check on her other bruises, she saw how the others are still visible in the eyes close-up. She hopes it will be gone soon, people might think weird of her once they notice how she only wears a sweater and cover-ups.

Too lost in her thoughts, she did not notice the ninja-like footsteps getting near her. "Y/n?..." She jumped up at the sound, looking up to see Maria with a certain look on her face, her eyes glazing over the arm that was set in front of her. "Are you okay? What happened?" Looking down, Y/n realized that the sleeves was still ridden up.

Quickly pulling it down, she stood up. "Maria! I didn't- I didn't hear you... Why are you here?" Y/n mentally slalpped herself, sounding so nervous and maybe even mean. Fiddling the hem of her sleeves, she continued, "Have you eaten already? I cooked something... I-I'm just waiting for Natalia to come home, she left earlier, by the way-just incase you're looking for her..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.

Maria's gaze stayed for a while on Y/n's covered arms that was visible a while ago. She saw it. Bruises littered on her body is what her life is all about in this business, and she can't be mistaken if she saw one. She saw the stiff shoulder of Y/n and what seemed like a tensed body, clearly having a good read that it is not something she would be open into talking about. But to Natasha, she will for sure ask about it. There's no way Natasha's hurting her?

"Yeah- no, I mean, I was just gonna pass by to bring these papers to Natasha..." Briefly holding up a briefcase in hand, Maria's gaze averted to look back into Y/n's face. "She's been spending work times here, I told her I'd just give this to her and she agreed—where is she, by the way? Did she say anything about where she was going?" Maria asked as she put the suitcase on the coffee table and sat on the couch.

Y/n stayed standing up, "Uhm... no, she left in a hurry... and she also seemed stress." Silence enveloped the atmosphere around them, Maria seemed to be in a very deep thought as her gaze glued on the television while Y/n shifted on where she was standing.

"Would you— would you like to eat, Ria?" Maria look back at the young girl, smiling at the sound of the new nickname she earned.

"What do you have there?" Standing up, they both walked towards the kitchen.

"I cooked salmon! I also did some vegetables salads, if you would like I can make you some juices." Setting up a plate, Maria frowned.

"Aren't you gonna eat too? Did you eat already?" Sitting down, she muttered a small thank you when a glass of water was set in front of her.

"No, don't worry about me. I'll wait for Natalia..." Maria's eyes squinted a little as she looked at Y/n who was taking out the food from the oven.

"Why do you keep calling her Natalia?" Maria blurted out and Y/n frowned, her movements faltering as she turned to look at Maria.

"Isn't that her name?" She questioned.

With a chuckle, Maria took a sip on her water as the food was set in front of her. "No, yeah, it is, it is. She hates that name, do you know that? We all call her Natasha." Maria explained, amusement sparking in her voice.

With a deeper frown, Y/n sat down beside her, after setting all the food that is available in front of the raven haired woman. "She hates it? Really?" With a blown confused voice, she asked. "It's just... it was what I used to call her... before. From as far as I can remember."

"Yeah... but, doesn't seem like it when you're that one calling her that..." Maria took a bit of the delicious food, just as she was about to take a second bite, her movements faltered. "Wait... before?" Looking at Y/n who was looking ahead into a space, seemingly lost in her thoughts with a faint blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Yeah... when we were kids. She used to come in our house with her parents, but I remember only very little." She explained, looking at Maria with a small smile on her face. "Why?" Seeing the distant look on Maria's face, she asked curiously.

A blip of silence came over, the gears running inside of Maria's head seemed to be heard by the girl beside her before she clears her throat slowly. "Urhm... no, nothing. Just curious, that's all—This is so good, by the way. Might eat it all if only Natasha would not kill me." Giggling, Y/n shook her head.

"I can cook you another?" Warmth spreading in her chest, she thought how Natasha got so lucky.

"No, no, don't bother, this is all good." With a nod, Y/n settled beside Maria, conversation thrown at each other like a normal friends would do.

Y/n could only hope Natalia is fine and will come home sooner.

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3rd Person's POV:

Hours passed by and the both of them had settled by the living room, with Maria deciding to stay for a couple of more hours and Y/n now falling asleep on the couch.

Averting her gaze from the television to the young woman who had her head on her knuckles while the other hand cuddled a pillow on her lap. Maria looked down on her phone, all of her messages from Natasha popped up immediately with no reply in sight. Sighing she got up to get herself a glass of water, deciding to stay a few more minutes before heading off.

As she was pouring herself a glass of water, a sheets of colored papers along with some art materials caught her eyes. Flower papers. The same ones she saw on Natasha's glovebox. The same one she also saw on Natasha's room yesterday.

Huh. Smirking, she shook her head before the sound of the door caught her attention. It might be Natasha. Deciding to stay in the kitchen as those familiar quiet footsteps reached her ears. From where she was standing, she could still clearly see where Y/n was laying on the couch but she's not visible for anyone to see if the person walking inside will go straight in the living room.

She watched as the familar form of a red haired woman with a dominant aura walked slowly with careful steps that Maria is not familiar with approach the young woman. With furrowed eyebrows, curiosity filled her body as she watched Natasha stand still, her figure looming over the girl, just watching over her.

Slowly, a sly smirk made its way on her face as she decided to step little by little closer to the living room, coming into a view where she can see Natasha's face clearly.

There was a certain look in Natasha's face that she could not pinpoint. A certain look she'd never seen before. Now, with a frown, she thought how could Natasha not notice another presence with them? With her eyes soft and tensed at the same time, analyzing the small figure by the couch, she decided to get her attention.

"Natasha..." With an uncertainty in her voice, she called out.

Head whipping around, shoulder becoming tensed as her features falter, Natasha replied, "Maria..." Clearing her throat, she straighten up, turning on her heels and walked towards the kitchen, her eyes trailing towards the art materials present on the table. "What are you doing here?"

Watching as Natasha opened up the fridge but just stared. "I got you the files. Where did you went?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you not to come anymore. I'll be going back at the mansion." Closing the fridge, she went to sit on one of the stools, now looking straight into Maria's eyes, not caring how she ignored the second question.

Frowning, she asked, "What? What about Y/n?"

Natasha shrugged, "What about her? I mean, she's doing fine here...I can just check on her—you guys can check on her from time to time." Taking a sip on the beer she got from the fridge, she averted her gaze to look by the living room, her gaze immediately falling down on the young woman laying on the couch.

With a still frown, Maria couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere had shifted, now taking notice that there was something up with her friend. She know her too well not to notice it, but seeing how tensed Natasha was, she chose not to question. Questions that are already piling up after the things she had witnessed and learned today.

"Well, then, I should go now. The files are by the living room..." Turning, Maria gathered her things she left on the kitchen counter earlier.

"Thank you, Maria." Natasha said with a monotone, acknowledging the effort that was made by the woman.

With a nod, Maria walked towards the exit, but her movements faltering as she turned her head to look at Natasha who was still looking ahead. "She cooked for you..." Even with her face in a stone cold feature, Maria could see right through her. "She was waiting for you to come back."

Receiving no reply, Maria headed off, leaving Natasha in her own bubble that seemed to be going off in any moment.

As soon as the sound of the door closing in, she swallowed a heavy lump that formed in her throat, her facade falling into pieces as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she let it out.

As soon as she opened it, she saw a movement by the living room. Taking a large swig of the beer, she watched as the figure took notice of her presence. Those eyes that haunted her in her sleep, the same ones she craved as soon as she wakes up. Natasha made no effort in resolving her facade, watching as the young woman marched forward in the kitchen, strands of hair falling into place as she took careful steps just like what she always do, as if worrying that she might trip.

Natasha learned all her habits, the way she would tuck her hair behind her ear, how she would fiddle the ends of her sleeve as she tried to cover up her hands as if she was not covered enough with those sweaters and cardigans along with leggings and pants that seemed to be countless. The way her eyes would move everywhere when she's nervous and couldn't seemed to hold an eye contact. Many more she could not even begin to explain, and many more she could not stop thinking about.

She was held captive, and she knows it. Especially, after tonight. It was a hard pill to swallow, finally realizing that she was capable of doing something she grew up thinking she was not able to do so.

"You're home." Home. Natasha's gaze felt like she was burning holes into Y/n's eyes. "Do you wanna eat? Wait, let me just reheat it. Maria was here earlier, she got your files by the living room—oh, I also made a dessert for us, thankfully Maria did not see it inside the fridge, she would eat it all for sure." A giggle passed her soft lips, even though she was not in Natasha's view, the red head could see the smile she wanted so badly to keep from the world and own it to herself.

So that she could only see it.

So that she could only smile for her.

She was not supposed to feel like this, and that was what makes it more a bitter thing to taste.

"She's just simply the paper in between their business, Natasha. After the marriage, you and I both know she's nothing to father..."

Her facade hardened at the voice of her sister from earlier, receiving the truthful message that made everything clear for her.

She was not supposed to feel like this because that smile was never meant to be hers.

She has a mission to do, a mission for herself.

"...and you and I both know she means nothing to you..."

Standing up, everything seemed to be closing in around her. Gulping down the beer while her eyes strayed away from the one's who's trying to catch it with a confused and worrying gaze.

"I'm not hungry. You should also clean that mess up... can't have my house piling up with childish things." Pointing briefly on the art material she knew clearly well was meant to be given to her.

She was met with silence, and it was almost deafening. Walking away, her insides screamed to her the giggle earlier, craving to hear her voice filling up the air as she bid her goodnight.

Once again, a lump started to form in her throat, but this time, she can't find the strength to swallow.

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Author's note: Hope you liked it! I tried my best, really ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ I'll do better on the next one! More angst piling up in the corner, I know this seemed to be in a rush but I promise to give more on the next ones! Many peeps keeps on messaging me and piling up my asks so I just did what I can do at the moment ಠ⁠ ⁠೧⁠ ⁠ಠ thank you for reading, until next time!

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 8) (Interactive Story)

You all want these monkeys to be happy. Fighting for it. Imma give you a touch choice this time~

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal Au

Ships: Shadow Peach

Macaque's anger melted away, replaced by a deep, aching sorrow. He stood before Wukong, watching the confusion and panic in those golden eyes as they searched fruitlessly for the source of the unseen force. Macaque's heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"You fool," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm right here."

With trembling fingers, Macaque reached out towards Wukong's face. He knew his hand would likely pass right through, but he couldn't stop himself from trying. Gently, ever so gently he attempted to cup Wukong's cheek.

It was unsurprising when Macaque's fingers trembled as they passed through Wukong's cheek, encountering no resistance. The familiar warmth and softness he longed to feel was replaced by an empty chill. His hand hovered there, suspended in the space where Wukong's face was.

"You can't even feel me, can you?" Macaque whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "After everything... I'm nothing more than a ghost to you now." Macaque brought his hands back to bury his face against them, wanting to block out the sight by covering his eyes, “Wukong…”

A look of bewilderment crossed Wukong’s face as an inexplicable sensation brushed against his cheek. It wasn't quite a touch - more like the faintest whisper of a breeze, or the lightest caress of silk. But there was an undeniable presence there, one that sent a shiver down his spine.

"What..." he murmured, his hand rising to touch the spot where he'd felt... something. His fingers quivered slightly as they hovered over his cheek, uncertain. Golden eyes focused, and Wukong focused. It took a moment, a deep peer into the void, but for a moment, he saw the impossible, and it made his voice weak.

"...Mihou?"

It shook Macaque to his very core when those eyes fell upon him. When that voice, spoke his name. He panicked, holding perfectly still, his hand still over his eyes. He was positive he had just heard wrong. But he could sense a shift in Wukong’s posture. A change to his gaze. He wasn’t blindly looking, he was focused.

Did Wukong see him?

Wukong had frozen stiff, eyes wide and looking at him so clearly. The gold of his eyes letting him peer through the veil just enough to see- to glimpse the silhouette of the mate he thought he had lost.

Thoughts rushed through Macaque's head. Panic, realization- Wukong’s lower lip trembling, eyes widening with such vulnerability. Macaque had never seen Wukong look at him like this before.

“Moon,” his hand extended out hesitantly, his voice crackly. He can hardly believe it. He seems to understand this is real a second later, and that he cannot let this moment slip through his fingers. With wild desperation he surged forward. “Moon!”

Macaque jumped in surprise as Wukong called out to him. He stepped back quickly as Wukong stumbled and vanished right through them, trying to catch hold of him but failing. If Macaque was alive, he would have been squished to Wukong’s chest, those strong arms tightening around him to hold in a bruising hug…

It was in that moment that Both were forced to recognize that Macaque’s presence wasn’t solid. Both of them froze in shock, each with their own unique feelings of horror.

Macaque's breath comes out in ragged gasps as he stares ahead, his heart racing with adrenaline. Behind him, Wukong tumbles and crashes, the ground shaking beneath them both. Macaque's eyes are wide with- terror, joy, so many different emotions as he realizes that… Wukong had seen him.

Wukong yanked himself to his knees stared at his empty hands- opening and closing them as he swore he had just- why wasn’t Mihou? Wukong whipped around, Panicked when his actions had lost him focus, Macaque fading from view again, “Wait-wait-!” he pleaded for Macaque to stay. To not leave his sight.

His composed demeanor from earlier was rapidly crumbling as he fell into a state of despair. Macaque managed to evade Wukong as the latter stumbled back towards him. Not that it mattered, as Wukong could not touch him, but he would rather not be reminded over and over that he wasn’t truly physically there.

Macaque felt ill as he watched Wukong's desperation unfold. The King's eyes darted wildly, searching for any trace of his lost mate. "Moon! Please, don't go!" Wukong's voice cracked, a sound so raw and anguished that Macaque felt his non-existent heart clench.

For a moment, Macaque considered reaching out, trying to touch Wukong's cheek again to comfort him. But the memory of his hand passing through Wukong earlier stopped him. What was the point? He couldn't truly touch him.

Macaque's heart raced as Wukong's gaze pierced through him. For a brief, shining moment, their eyes met across the veil separating life and death- Wukong could see him again.

Sun Wukong's face crumpled with a mix of desperation and hope, his hand reaching out. "Moon," he breathed, voice cracking. "Is it really you?"

Macaque's throat tightened. He wanted to run, to hide from that vulnerable gaze that threatened to undo him. Several thoughts came to mind at once.

First, a panic that Wukong could see him. What was Wukong going to say? What was he going to do? It half convinced Macaque to turn and flee. He couldn’t get far, he knew, with this string connecting them, but he just couldn’t bare the sight of those eyes. He should go. He should run. H-He… Wukong was going to hurt him again.

Second, joy. His mate could see him. Could potentially hear him or read his lips. A part of him felt elated, wanting to just forgive Wukong as he tended to do, regardless of the pain. The moon so desperate for it’s Sun. The pathetic and weaker side of him, unable to truly ever break away it’s from its mate. It’s soulmate. He was Sun Wukong’s soulmate.

Wukong took a hesitant step forward, hand still outstretched when Macaque didn’t respond righta way. "Moon, please," he pleaded, voice thick with emotion. "Don't disappear again. I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Macaque felt cold.

The third and last thought followed. A darker thought.

Wukong could see him, but could do no harm to him. It left the door open to possabilities… whispered opportunity. What could one do to someone so… desperate for them?

Wukong never often revealed his hand, always keeping aloof. A casual friendly demeanor always hiding his real intent, his real emotion. He had folded now, revealing his anguish. Somehow or another, Wukong was- perhaps happy to see him? That quiver in his eyes indicated remorse. He was vulnerable right now.

Words would cut far deeper now than ever before. Macaque had nothing but words now. He could break Sun Wukong. 

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Beheheh I got some tough ones for you all this time~ Flee and deal with this another time? Continue the toxic cycle of blind forgiveness?? Or begin a new toxic cycle of emotional manipulation??

choose wisely~

Previous

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If you are willing, I’m curious what you all voted for in the comments! No worries if you don’t want to though

[reticenceofladyeva]

9 Things Zuko Does That Aggravate the Avatar

I take it back. I no longer hate the last chapter of Where the Tulips Grow. In its honor, here's a little follow-up, just because it made me laugh.

And because Aang is like fifteen and a little jilted.

Aang doesn't hate Zuko. He doesn't hate anyone. He doesn't even hate the Fire Lord--er, former Fire Lord--so obviously, Sokka doesn't know what he's talking about.

Then again, Sokka did stroke his beard and suggest that Aang journal about his feelings, and that didn't sound like a terrible idea.

Inhaling deeply, Aang dips his brush in ink and spreads a piece of parchment across a small table. He'll make a list of things that he doesn't like about Zuko, and then he'll blow it into the fireplace, and that will be that.

Sokka's pretty wise for a guy with a fake beard.

He tried to kill me and my friends.

Well, that's not exactly true. Really, Zuko was trying to capture Aang and his friends. Katara had been raging about Combustion Man being Zuko's fault last time they'd spoken, but still. Aang doubts Sokka and Katara would have survived long after being captured, so.

2. He shot fire at me after I saved him.

Zuko was really ungrateful that he hadn't been left for Zhao to find.

3. He sided with Azula in Ba Sing Se.

This one, Aang thinks, needs very little explanation.

4. He betrayed Katara in Ba Sing Se.

Aang scowls down at the paper. He'd never seen her so angry before Zuko had shown up at the Western Air Temple.

5. There was something going on between Zuko and Katara in Ba Sing Se.

All of his friends, Katara included, say the play got that wrong, but if the play got that wrong, why was she so upset at the temple? Why couldn't she just forgive him? Katara is like him; she forgives and would never hurt anyone on purpose. Aang nods at the paper for emphasis. Whatever got into her that day was Zuko's fault.

6. Zuko makes Katara angry.

She's spent too much time with him. Katara supported Ozai's execution, even after Aang wrote to her and begged her to stop it. She refused, and he just knows it's because Zuko was there and not just writing her a letter and he must have been constantly bothering her about Fire Nation justice or whatever. Katara would never hurt anyone on purpose, and Aang wouldn't either.

7. Zuko married Katara.

Aang prides himself on his ability to let things go. It's the airbender way to be free of attachments, and he's always been able to follow that philosophy. Except for Katara. Guru Pathik said he had to let Katara go, but letting Katara go is what got him killed in Ba Sing Se, and besides, doesn't the universe want him to be happy? And then just when he thought they were going to be together, Zuko popped out of the woodwork and stole her from him.

He waited until Aang was out of the picture to swoop in and manipulate her into staying in the Fire Nation. He got hurt during the battle knowing she wouldn't leave him like that. He--

Aang takes a deep, calming breath and reminds himself that he doesn't hate Zuko.

8. Zuko won't give up the colonies.

This is Aang's biggest problem. The newer ones have been dissolved for almost two years, but Zuko is refusing to bring the Fire Nation citizens of Yu Dao home. So now Aang has to go and try to talk King Kuei out of starting a war, and then King Kuei went to the colony with an army anyway, and then Katara was there with the Fire Nation army saying she agreed with Zuko, and then the mayor's Earth Kingdom wife agreed with Katara, and now the whole thing is a mess.

Aang doesn't know how Zuko brainwashed her, but it's really frustrating.

9. Zuko can't get along with Kuei.

This one is completely Zuko's fault. The Earth King is a great guy who just wants to live in peace with his pet bear. Aang does not understand why Zuko is always picking fights with him about things like the colonies and whether or not sea prunes are edible.

Aang shudders. Kuei is right on both counts.

And that's it, Aang thinks. Nine things about Zuko that make him a terrible person. Iroh would be a much better Fire Lord. As the parchment dries, Aang lifts it and rereads his list. Sokka said to take three really, really deep breaths, and then to blow it into the fireplace. Once the list burns, Aang can let all of these go, and maybe then he'll be able to really clear out his chakras. That's the idea, anyway.

Sokka's pretty smart, Aang reminds himself.

Just as he prepares to burn the list, Hawky flaps into the room through the open window, looking dazed and a little confused (pretty normal for Hawky). Momo squawks indignantly when the bird lands next to him. Greeting Hawky with a quick pat on the head and some berries, Aang pulls the message out of its tube.

Then the list is forgotten. Aang shouts at the wall and rips his glider from its perch, throwing it open and darting into the sky.

The tenth thing Aang hates about Zuko is scrawled across the tiny parchment. Sokka is going to be an uncle in the summer.

P.S. The title is a reference to the last chapter:

“Stop avoiding me, Zuko,” she says, looking like she’s going to push everything off his desk if he ignores her. “We haven’t sparred since the last full moon, and we both need to stay sharp.”

She’s right, and he knows it. The assassination attempts have been foiled easily enough so far, but there are more rumors of rebellion fomenting in the south, and the Earth King isn’t budging on his demands to evict Fire Nation colonists from Yu Dao (Zuko isn’t budging on Yu Dao either, one more thing Zuko does that aggravates the Avatar). 

[metranart]

Imagine Gojo moving down your body without a word and slowly spread your legs to position himself between your thighs—

—and then going down on you for what feels like fucking DAYS.

You slip in and out of it, falling graciously numb whenever, 'the master', Geto slides his hands are at your thighs or his lips suck on your neck, coming to your senses whenever Gojo gently touches your clit with his avid tongue.  He can talk shit and scold Geto all he wants about the wrongness of creating a creature as you, but now he is so HOOKED. He can't have enough, spreading you out on the blanket with your legs open, letting himself taste you to try to fulfil his drive.

“She doesn't need preparation, Satoru. I made this little creature-she's always ready.” 

Geto had murmur, even so, Satoru licks your cunt just because he WANTS to-… being unbelievably gentle about it, doing as much as he possibly can to urge you to cum, to relax you enough to do to you EVERYTHING he want.

“Let me make her cum another couple of times… and then we can dive into our old manners.” Satoru begs to a waiting Geto who merely shrugs his shoulder, amused.

“Whateva- this kitten’s awfully close,” Suguru watches your spine arch over and over again. He was right, you were achingly, sickeningly close to orgasm, sweating and shaking and about to burst at any second. Satoru got your clit in his mouth, doing something that should be illegal for how exquisite it feels—

“—gonna cum—” it’s half-gasped, half-squealed at the ceiling before it whips through you like a bolt of lightning, fierce and blazingly tight. You cum hard in his mouth and then just lay there weakly afterwards.

Then, Satoru and Suguru spend hours inside you, obsessed over your soft curves and smooth skin.

“I’ve miss this,” you hear Geto purr to his ex-bestie as their tongues mix in a feral tangle of kisses and smooches, “…. Did you, Satoru?” 

“… Always so fuckin’ needy.” Satoru purrs wickedly but the way he keeps eating Geto’s mouth speaks for itself. 

They kept fucking you, all sorts of positions you didn't even know your body could bend into, being penetrated by both of them made you feel like exploding but also fulfil, they made a great duo but even between their caresses there were traces of violence and resentment, sometimes their hips would hit too savagely with a hidden intention, and you were just the receptacle of those pent up feelings -that you suspected were aimed at each other… but if this happens to bring you to several slow, lazy orgasms in between their arms—well then, so be it. 

“...... Is she human?”

You are unable to hear their pillow talk, your body motionless and exhausted on top of Satoru's, his now calm heartbeat taking you to a peaceful and cloudy sleep.

“No” Geto replies, playing with a strand of your hair between his fingers. “But she's not just a curse either-”

Satoru glances at him with confusion, and the cult leader smirks.

“She's obsession made flesh, I haven't been able to keep my hands off her since she was born, I think i have created my own destruction.” His chuckle was curt yet full of powerful undertones of vulnerability.

“And yet you sent her to look for Yuji, Megumi, Nanami, Toge-”

He sounded furious, he was. If anyone wasn't good at sharing it was Satoru, who if he were the one to create you, wouldn't have sent you to collect other sorcerers' samples, he would have just given you his own, over and over again until it took root, until you were heavy with his child in your belly.

“It's the reason for her creation, you know that my goals always come first, but now that I've accomplished them, I can keep her.”

Geto gently reaches for your arm, trying to drag your unconscious body to him, he wants to feel your warmth on his skin... but finds something he didn't expect, someone refused to let go of you... Satoru, smirks.

“Who says I'm going to let you?”

➡️🔞 COMPLETE STORY HERE!

[primus-why]

Hot take but I feel like folks be really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this take?

Like after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on this part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 as acting the same as Sentinel, so he said what he said and stood on his business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who had enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he sets his gaze towards the horizon... and their future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrriiipped-- oops, uh, hey there Mr. Optimus Prime... sir." And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will be barely a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- basically picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters dropped in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to hang with the High Guard at the end and ended up sticking around, that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly? Kinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, and he'd probably be back to wreak more havoc! (If the Quints didn't just kill him for incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too??

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

[lucifermorningstxr]

The humiliatingly honest truth of the situation was that Lucifer Morningstar, the actual Devil himself, was afraid. Petrified, in fact, of losing Chloe. The weight that had been lifted from his shoulders in the parking garage earlier that afternoon fell crashing back onto him, landing directly on his head this time, as Kinley spun his tale, and Eve's presence made it so his hands were tied with the Detective for the time being. His only salvation was how good of a person she really was, and her response to his honest display was reassuring, to say the least. He nodded at her words, leaning into her touch as much as possible without outwardly disrespecting the woman he was still officially committed to. That didn't mean he wasn't still planning to end it though, nor did it mean he didn't want to hold Chloe tighter than he's ever held anyone in his eternity. It just meant things were stalled a bit while this whole mess was sorted. All of that being said, for the time being, he'd keep his reply honest yet brief. "Thank you, Detective. I... I promise I'll tell you everything i know. Thank you for having my back again." Not meant to be pointed, it was as genuine of a gratuity as the Devil could ever offer. Through thick and thin, they'd always seem to have each other's back. It was something so unusual for him, but he liked it. He loved it, in fact.

It pained him inside to go from confiding into the Detective to entertaining Eve. At first, he felt genuinely terrible for the first woman. Imagine spending your entire eternal existence having to be something you're not only to track down your 'first love' only to be smacked with the realization you don't really fit in, then compound all of that with the prophecy; it's a dreadful reality for anyone. Even the Devil has a heart, and he couldn't help but feel it squeezed a wrong way when the news that was shattering his world was building hers up. He moved to loosen his grip on her in that moment, but then she jumped all over him with her excitement. He couldn't lie but was being totally honest right here, right now what was best for the situation? His initial goal was just to smile and giggle with his girlfriend, feeding a bit into his carnal desires to distract from the heaviness of his reality, but when the Detective took what he knew looked bad even worse than he'd imagined, he was left to quickly reroute. Their reconciliation would not be in vain, not for nothing, not even his 'first love.'

He led Eve swiftly as he could after Chloe, being slowed by the maintenance of his eternally immature girlfriend. "Detective! Wait!" Lucifer would try to get her attention, but it seemed Eve was the real draw, and not in a good way. The suggestion of blatant disrespect to the woman he cared most for by the woman who had turned his life upside down was too much to bear. Yet, he'd try to contain himself. After all, this was a prison parking lot, wherein the building was held an insanely evil priest who would do anything to prove his 'true colours.' What's more is that this is the Detective's reputation. He'd been better behaved when working with her until Eve showed up, and he intended nothing less than respect for her. Channeling his strongest feelings into a cool, stern tone following the Detective's rightful upset, he'd turn to Eve and take one last stab at convincing the petulant first woman to behave. "Eve, darling, the Detective is right. Can't the sex wait? It's just a short drive back to the precinct anyway, and you know I last too long to make it." Not knowing what else to say that was honest in the moment, he tried to put a proverbial bandaid over the situation.

Any additional attempts he'd make to offer an apology to Chloe on Eve's behalf, or even address what was said on his own accord, were thwarted by Eve's remark. Chloe was the one not letting him be his true self? Chloe was the bad influence? Very well. If it's Big Bad Devil that Eve wanted, it'd be Big Bad Devil that Eve got. No more placating, no more games, and if that meant no more aquarium sex, then so be it. He was going to show both of them exactly where he stood, to Hell with the rest of the nonsense.

"The Detective is the bad influence!? Eve, do you even hear yourself?" With each word, his voice got louder as he got angrier. "The Detective is the only one who's consistently been there for me. You want to talk about my true self? Let's talk about it! Thanks to the Detective, I know I'm NOT the monster society has painted me to be! I know I'm NOT evil incarnate like every other human has believed me to be! Like dear old bloody Dad cast me to be!" He'd even flashed his Devil eyes a few times throughout his explosive tangent, typically in punctuation, but isn't that what Eve wanted? His nastier side? "My true self? You don't know who I am anymore! You know my body, but you clearly don't know me. Did you even stop for a moment to consider how the prophecy affects me!? All you have to do is be my 'first love' while I'm the one unleashing evil into the world by simply existing! By daring to think for one moment that I might deserve love. Maybe I don't, because I certainly don't feel loved. Not by you anyway, Eve. Sit where you want, but you'll be sitting by yourself."

As he huffed from his tantrum, turning to storm away from his 'girlfriend,' Lucifer gazed over at Chloe with a deeply honest pain in his eyes. "Please forgive me for my outburst, Detective. You don't have to deal with all of this anymore."

Lucifer was trying to balance his urge to comfort both women with his own self-preservation, trying not to crack under the anxious pressures brought on by what he'd just witnessed. He knew that it didn't matter whether he exploded in anger or got defensive because either would give Kinley's baseless claims too much credit. And it wasn't that he feared Chloe's rejection alone, as he himself was battling his own self-image in real time once more. He wasn't evil. Not like humanity said, and not like Kinley had just painted him out to be. Luckily, his spiral of thought was interrupted by the Detective's impeccable timing as she pulled him aside. Lucifer had to make a split-second decision on how to react, and Chloe's gentle approach combined with his own vulnerability led to the obvious answer; honesty as always, but soft communication. Not only to not rile Eve, but to demonstrate a composure and show that he's changed not only in eternity, but in the four years he'd been working with Chloe. The best four years of his existence to date.

"Detective, I have to tell you... you're doing an awfully good job handling all of this for a human. I... I want to talk to you about this. I need to talk to you about this..." He paused for a moment, motioning in the direction of Eve with his eyes. "But I don't think here is the best place. You still trust me, don't you? Do you trust me to be alone with you? To talk?" The Devil's mouth was shaky once more, his eyes set on the woman in front of him. "I'm not evil, Detective. I punish Evil, but I'm not evil. And... I don't want to be evil."

As their conversation was cut off, Lucifer couldn't help but reach out and pull Eve into his side. He'd wanted to do the same to the Detective, but it didn't seem appropriate in the moment, not in front of Eve, and he knew that if she accepted his offer, he'd have plenty of time to comfort her too. He gave her a look that said 'Please, don't be hurt. She needs this right now' as he soothed the uneasy first woman. If the prophecy was even a little bit true, then Eve likely had more than a small part in it. The least he could do was comfort her in this time of uncertain strife.

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[hauntingblue]

Skypiea time

Robin saying that because I know she only got on a ship to then leave it...

Nami sees Conis and gets sanji out of there so SHE can talk to her akdhksajka not a single second lost

Hello my favourite panel of nami maybe ever

Sillies...

CHOPPER YOU ARE THE CUTEST

Robin throws this guy off a cliff and to make just to make sure she breaks his neck too akdjsksk who is doing it like her???

OMG ACE!!!! IT IS TIME!!!!

[hahasuchagarbage]

YOOOOOOO I inspired a person's art HELL YEAH

Also LOVED this post, can't wait to read more (hope there will be more 🙏). I have my own "new canon story" going on in mind (very very deep in mind, never meant to see the light of day EVER) with the already established dt17 reboot story of drake mallard, but no interdimensional-old-dwd-show villains situation - like, same character at the end, but with new in-dt17-universe backstories going on (it's complicated), so It was doubly pleasant to read what ideas other people might have about Bushroot's character :DD

Few thoughts that I have after reading, hope you don't mind me sharing:

"because Bushroot, believe it or not, is a good horror character" YES HE IS. yall remember that Laura Palmer shit he pulled out in one of the episodes?? dude wrapped his own damn dead body (the SECOND dead body he had in that episode) in a plastic bag, threw it near some river and continued his day, spying for alien cows, as if nothing had happened.

that is some really twisted shit for a "coward" he is claimed to be to do

"Quackerjack is one of the ones he would get along with the least" I actually strongly agree here lol. (aside from all the other traits mentioned) Quackerjack is too unpredictable and chaotic at this point of his mental state, relationship with him would be a living HELL for someone like Bushroot, if we take into the account all the established issues Reggie has + if there is no character changes/development done before them entering into relationship.

"two gossipers " THEY ARE

(Bushroot and Liquidator also have the "we shouldn't judge/but we will)" duo energy)

"Negaduck would ALWAYS threaten Bushroot for every thing he did wrong" okay-okay, hear me out, do you all too think that negaduck tends to projects his hatred for friendly four toward team fearsome? Especially in the og series, and not the fan-redesigns ones, where both versions of them as villains and heroes are totally identical, and each time friendly four are getting on his nerves he blows the steam on his ''henchmen".

(therefore, there is this concept of how darkwing and negaduck project their experiences with both of their universes fours, where dw is the one who was able to overcome his mistrust and prejudice and see each member of friendly four as their own person, that has nothing to do with the their villain persona; but negaduck did not and will probably never do the same in opposite direction.)

"their relationship would be very cute to explore" - Bushroot's attitude towards spike is something I always interpreted as him striving for love and support, but stubbornly ignoring all those same things coming from spike (like its here, right under your beak, but you don't/don't want to see it. A kind of irony and underline of Bushroot's ignorance, that he as a character must outgrow to finally gain what he craves the most. does that make sense? I hope it does?

Character Ideas for Writers - Bushroot (Darkwing Duck)

This blog is for Darkwing Duck writers who plan to write a fanfic, comic or anything that directly or indirectly involves the character Bushroot. The ideas may not be for everyone and everyone has their own different vision of the character, but this blog is for those who are experiencing writer's block or any other creative issues. I hope you understand and, if you use any of these ideas, please give me credit. Thank you for understanding.

Yeah, I know, this blog took longer than I wanted... But in my defense, my college (yes, I'm in college-) gave me a lot of work to do, so that's it... Little time to make a blog... But I did it little by little and, now, here I am! Well, my dear writers, fanfiction writers, Fan Comics writers and Darkwing Duck fans, let's start with tips about my second favorite Darkwing Duck villain, Reginald Bushroot!:D

(Second favorite, because you already know... My number one favorite villain is Liquidator... -w-)

I decided to start with Bushroot because I had more ideas related to him and I was rewatching the Darkwing Duck episodes while listening to the Podcast "The Saint Canarian Files: A Darkwing Duck Podcast" (By the way, listen to their Podcast, it's really good and they bring curiosities about the production of the episodes :³). And, also, I ended up changing my mind about the "Bushroot Redemption Arc" that was being done in the "Boom Comics" comics and, after hearing some opinions from other people, I ended up liking the idea (and also, this blog was supposed to be released last month because Bushroot, believe it or not, is a good horror character). This blog will be divided into topics and, in each topic, I will talk about specific themes, but that encompass several ideas about that theme. Enjoy! :D

Oh, and for the people who came to the blog to complain about my ideas, I didn't see that you agree with my opinions, don't like Bushroot or are just here to complain as if it were Twitter... I kindly ask that you leave peacefully, malicious or inappropriate comments will be deleted.

Character's Past

This topic (as well as others) is optional, but if you want to make a story (like a fanfic, comic or One-Shot) focused on the character, this topic can be good to give more layers to the character.

I've heard many psychologists talk about how our inner child defines who we are in the present, and despite a series of factors involved, it's really true. So, in Bushroot's case, we have to define what made him a person who, despite being good deep down, ends up losing control of his emotions and ends up doing questionable things, and who also can't express what he wants to others. So I took some things from the psychoanalysis of Attachment Theory. And, to give a very rough summary (go research it later if you want), it is a theory that says that your type of attachments to friendships, family, work and romantic relationships can fit into four aspects of attachment: Anxious Attachment, Avoidant Attachment, Disorganized Attachment and Secure Attachment.

Since our focus is on Bushroot, after analyzing each of the attachments, I classified it into the two most likely attachments for him: Anxious Attachment and Disorganized Attachment.

- Anxious Attachment

The theory says that Anxious Attachment is caused when the person responsible for the child was inconsistent in meeting the child's needs, such as security, affection and attention. One day the child had a lot and the next, he had little. This attachment causes the child to end up developing affective anxiety, with this unpredictability of the person who took care of the child projecting itself into the constant fear that people will abandon him. And this also extends to other life experiences besides older people, such as having a boyfriend or a friend who sometimes gave you attention, and sometimes barely spoke to you, which can be harmful to future relationships, because the person ends up suffocating the loved one in search of validation and security, usually looking for dynamics that are "familiar" to them from past experiences. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

Needs constant validation

Never feels loved enough

Has emotional ups and downs

His biggest fear is that they will abandon him

Constantly questioning your worth as a person based on the answers you receive

Always needs attention from others

He cares a lot about every detail

There have been moments considered toxic because of emotional dependence.

He has anxiety and worries a lot about the possibility of betrayal, of people no longer loving him or being interested in him.

- Disorganized Attachment

People with Disorganized Attachment are commonly the result of living in a hostile family environment, with dysfunctional dynamics and emotional abuse. The retained trauma ends up being manifested in later relationships. And, of course, it can also be developed in adulthood. Even if the person has received love in a good family environment, they can become a person with this attachment after traumatic experiences with a toxic partner. Extremely stressful situations can cause this type of attachment. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

You don't know how to regulate your emotions, you never know what you're going to feel around someone

There was more than one person in that area who mistreated him

Carry unhealed traumas that show up in relationships

You know his behavior seems contradictory

People are generally untrustworthy

Feeling incomplete, with very low self-esteem

You want to be loved, but you're afraid of being hurt

You know that any relationship will always abandon you

I would like to love myself more, but I don't know if I can

So, yeah... You can take the Bushroot side of things, as a child, having had inconsistent parents or having lived in a hostile family environment, because both attachments are valid. But let's get out of the speculation part and into the part that's probably more fun to play with.

Origin of Powers and Mutation

Definitely the one I had the most ideas for, but let's take it one step at a time... We already know Bushroot's personality and why he did the experiment in the original, but if you want to change that, I have some suggestions.

- Trying to cure a terminal illness

I know, it's a cliché that a scientist tries to cure a disease that would probably kill him or make him lose something that would end his life, but it's still a cliché that, if done well, can give a greater dramatic load to the character. Having reached such an extreme point just to survive, it can also show the character's selfishness, even if small.

- Seek approval and recognition

This is also nothing new considering the duck plant, but it is really valid and is in the original, in parts. And it still works, changing one point or another, it can be well executed.

- Sabotaged by colleagues

This is a strand that goes a little against the original, but it is valid. If Bushroot had his project approved by his boss, Dr. Gary and Dr. Larson would probably be very angry with the duck and would have sabotaged the project, which would cause his mutation and, consequently, they would have indirectly caused their own deaths. But if you want a more interesting Plot Twist... We have another strand of this idea.

- Rhoda being the culprit behind the Bushroot mutation

If you want to completely change the origin of the mutation, you can do the following... Bushroot would be getting approval and would be making money with his projects, while Rhoda is about to be fired, so she decides to use the fact that Bushroot always wants approval from others and convince him to try to do a riskier project. However, she ends up tricking him and using him as an unwitting guinea pig, which ends up causing his mutation and, in the end, she is the one who receives the credit (even though the project was Bushroot's), which causes Bushroot to become blind with rage and want revenge on everyone, including Rhoda. It would be an interesting origin and one that, in fact, would add a lot to his story. And since we're talking about Rhoda...

Rhoda's Character

Another optional topic, but one that could be interesting to work on... Because, in itself, Rhoda's character is not very developed, she serves more as a stepping stone for the plot to follow and to contribute to Bushroot's initial motivation. So, if you want to work more on the character and her relationship with Bushroot, here are some suggestions.

- Keep the original personality, but with more development

It's self-explanatory, but it's valid... The issue of Rhoda being the only person who supports Reginald and truly believes in him is good, whether she just sees him as a friend or something more, which would also give more impact when Bushroot loses his sanity and ends up becoming a villain. You can also try to include her in a few times, making her a recurring secondary character and developing her personality more.

- Good on the outside, but manipulative and cruel on the inside

There are two sayings in my country that I've heard of: the first is "Love makes people blind" and the second is "Love is a purple flower, which grew in the heart of a fool". These two sayings fit this idea... If you want to make a more interesting plot twist, you can use Rhoda as a ladder for a character who seems good, but deep down she is the "mad scientist" of the story. As mentioned in the idea of Rhoda being the culprit of everything, she would have tricked Bushroot into stealing his project and thus gaining money and recognition, never having truly cared about him. This, besides being a plot twist for the audience, would be a reality check for Darkwing Duck, who would be shocked when he found out about this. It could also open the basis for a lot of symbolism regarding this act of Rhoda, but I'll leave that one for you to think about.

- Dying (unintentionally or not) because of Bushroot

Regardless of the path you choose, whether you want Rhoda to be good or evil, another idea that would be interesting is if Bushroot ended up killing her. Whether by accident, with the collapse of the laboratory or a fit of rage that hit Rhoda, or intentionally, with him killing her in cold blood or replicating her experiment, but ending up killing her in the process. But that depends on each writer, the shock value has to be used in the right way and that makes sense in the narrative, and there is no point in killing the character if there is no development for her or her death. But going back to the question of the Bushroot mutation...

Consequences of Mutation

We already know that he became a plant mutant and that this gave him, in addition to plant powers, an extremely surprising regeneration capacity. But what about the consequences of the mutation? Would there be any? I have some suggestions...

- Physical consequences of the body

For those who study biology, you know that our body has a certain "recipe" that, if changed, can cause physiological problems for us. In the case of Bushroot, because he transformed (or was transformed) his body into a plant, his body could reject the mutation. Whether it's his organs not adapting well and causing him to have internal problems, vomiting flowers like "Hanahaki" (those who know fanfics know this term), or him having the physiology of a zombie, losing his vocal cords and becoming hunched over, among other problems.

- Psychological problems

If you want to go into the more psychological aspect of the character, there are also ways to work on that. You can work on an identity crisis in him, with him realizing that he is no longer human and questioning whether he is still himself. You can explore how the mutation ended up affecting his brain, which makes him slowly start to lose his sanity and have hallucinations. Or, if you want to follow the original, explore how lonely Bushroot is now that he is a mutant, since everyone is afraid of him and wants him away, which also touches on the issue of his emotional dependence. But, for this last suggestion, we have a hook to talk about another topic.

Relationships

I'm not just talking about romantic relationships, I'm also talking about friendship and enmity. Let's start with the basics...

- Darkwing Duck

Everyone knows this... Bushroot doesn't like Darkwing Duck at first, mainly because he keeps getting in the way of his plans, but their relationship in the comics and the series ends up changing. Like in "Silme Okay, You're Okay", "Jailbird", "Twin Beaks" and in the zombie potato comic (I can't remember the name right now), they've already teamed up against a bigger villain. In the latter, by the way, it was the first time that Darkwing called Bushroot by his nickname, "Reggie". It comes to the point that, despite all their differences, they are similar, Darkwing even says this: "I know we have our differences...". You can explore either the aspect of Bushroot's hatred towards Darkwing or the aspect of Darkwing being a person who, even though Bushroot is a villain, supports his change of character.

- Fearsome Four

This is the second relationship that is most important, after all, he is in a group of powerful villains... But let's take it one step at a time... Quackerjack is one of the ones he would get along with the least, because, besides Quackerjack being noisy, it was seen in "Jailbird" that he destroys Reginald's plants a lot and doesn't care about his feelings. With Megavolt, he wouldn't interact much, but they would probably get along, considering that they were both losers in the past and have interests in science (even if their field is different), despite Volt also being VERY noisy. Now, with Liquidator, who unfortunately was the least explored, you can see that they get along very well, and could be both the "brave and coward" duo, as well as, probably, two gossipers (because I really think that both of them would be the type of person who likes to gossip), besides that their relationship with Dator could help his self-esteem, even if just a little, because the water dog definitely doesn't take any nonsense.

Credits to @hahasuchagarbage for the idea and inspiration

- Negaduck

Yeah... It's definitely not good... I DOUBT that Negaduck would be nice to Bushroot, even if he is useful as a "henchman", Negaduck would consider him "too soft". You must know that Negaduck is a HORRIBLE person (don't even try to contradict that it's true!), but he would certainly be one of the factors for Bushroot to have trauma that would take him to therapy... Negaduck would ALWAYS threaten Bushroot for every thing he did wrong, whether psychologically or by threatening to burn him alive until he dies. One of the relationships that, besides being toxic, would be one of the factors for Bushroot to be excited about wanting to have redemption or not.

- Spike

To lighten the mood, let's talk about the plant dog Spike... Even though, in the series, Bushroot acted very badly towards Spike, their relationship would be very cute to explore. There are people who, when they feel bad, adopt therapy animals to improve their anxiety and other psychological problems, which ends up fitting with Spike. And with this cuteness, we move on to the next topic.

Powers

Another optional topic, however, equally interesting! We know that Bushroot's powers, in general, are limited to controlling plants, but if you want to expand Reggie's range of powers further, there are some that suit him.

- Expand his plant control

Self-explanatory, but it requires research into plant biology, and I understand that it can be boring, but it ends up being rewarding and makes you see that Bushroot is, in fact, one of Darkwing Duck's most powerful villains.

- Control insects

A slightly more insane idea, but an interesting one, considering that some plants can trick certain insects into survival, whether through pheromones or another method. So it would be interesting for Bushroot to use some formula to manipulate insects.

- Control people with pollen from modified flowers

Just like Poison Ivy, who is the inspiration for Bushroot, he can use the flowers to control people, not necessarily making them fall in love with him, but manipulating their minds to commit crimes for him or something else. And now, let's get to the topic everyone was waiting for...

Redemption or not? That is the question...

As has been said many times here, there is the option of leaving Bushroot as a villain and someone who does not want to change (as some episodes of the series and the comics, both old and Dynamite, did) and there is the option of working on Bushroot's redemption and making him become a hero or an anti-hero. And now, let's explore these two narrative points. And, just for the joke, I'm going to do like Undertale and call the slopes "Good Route", "Neutral Route" and "Evil Route".

- Good Route

The route follows what was proposed by the Boom Comics comics and was touched upon in the original series, a possible redemption of Bushroot... As seen in the other topics, Bushroot suffered a lot of trauma, whether from the past, in his origins or with Negaduck, being some of the reasons why Bushroot is apprehensive about having a redemption arc, asking himself "Is it worth it for me to do this? Will anyone really believe in me to the point of agreeing to help me? Or will everyone just abandon me for choosing this?". And the character who would probably help Reggie in this arc would be Gosalyn (because, as much as Darkwing Duck might consider it, he is not at all delicate with words). Gosalyn, despite being a character with a bit of "no filter", she is a good person and, upon seeing an act of kindness from Bushroot, she would want to help him change. However, Negaduck would be the main obstacle to this redemption, threatening Bushroot with death if he did so, but, in the end, Reggie would finally face him and, thus, would begin his arc of reform, whether as an Anti-hero or as a hero itself. As for the reaction of the other Fearsomes... It will depend... If you want to maintain a good relationship between Bushroot and them, the Fearsomes can get upset, but they would understand Bushroot's side and accept his choice. Now, if you want a negative reaction, you can make them angry and get satisfaction from Bushroot, who would reinforce that he no longer wants to be a villain.

- Neutra Route

She is a middle ground between the good Bushroot and the evil Bushroot, literally being in the middle of them. Bushroot could even consider having redemption, but due to Negaduck's constant threats, he would refuse, even if it would break Gosalyn's heart... However, the event of the Fearsome Four breaking away from Negaduck could occur, which could open the door for Bushroot to be an anti-hero who only kills horrible people, but not necessarily being a hero or a villain, truly being neutral, which still keeps him in the Fearsome Four.

- Evil Route

Now... If you want Bushroot to be 100% villainous, you can choose how to do it... You can make him slowly lose his sanity and, when he is given the chance to redeem himself, he is so insane and traumatized that he would furiously refuse. Or you can make him feel that, if he changes, he will lose everything he has built and his friendship with the Fearsomes, deciding to remain a villain. There may be an atmosphere of terror with these aspects. Or, if you want a more tragic side, make loneliness consume him completely and he becomes a complete villain because of it. You can also want to make him have a redemption, but for a series of factors and a series of issues, he ends up dying in the end, but doing an act of kindness before dying. It's a tragic fate, but you can choose whichever one you want.

Reference Suggestions

Last extra topic to end the blog with a flourish (or perhaps a marigold, if you prefer), which are literary and character tips for you to get inspired.

- Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Hyde

It might be a good choice if you want to explore Bushroot's internal conflict, between being good or being evil.

- Frankenstein

The most classic parallel, if you want to use the idea of Rhoda being evil and Bushroot being the victim, is questioning the ethics of science and the dilemma of "Who is the monster and who is the human?".

- Poison Ivy

The most direct inspiration for Bushroot, but if you want, you can delve deeper into the character to have both the aspect of Bushroot's powers and more of his past.

- Pearl (from Steven Universe)

It is one of the most classic examples of characters who have emotional dependence and who can help this part of Bushroot evolve and become more self-sufficient.

- Dead Plate

This last one doesn't exactly match Bushroot, but the protagonist and antagonist have two parallels about "what is love?" I recommend researching more about the characters and the game.

Conclusion

But that's basically it, folks... The blog got bigger than I expected, but I hope I helped you! If you have any suggestions for ideas, leave them in the comments and I'll reblog them with your idea! Each like and reblog is a little Lemon Balm Tea to calm down poor Bushroot... That's it, BYEEE!!!

All the arts were made by me in traditional, I hope you liked it! ^^

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[anguishedlurker]

Chapter two coming UP, on Ao3 HERE as well.

~

So at first she'd lost her new notebook, which was all sorts of awful. She just got that, dammit! And had wrapped something up in record time, too!

She knew she'd left it on her nightstand, she couldn't be convinced otherwise either, but where did it go!? She was gone five fucking minutes!

All that wasted time and effort, with the haunting sense she wasn't alone. And in Amity, that meant so much more than it should!

But whatever. She could deal. Or at least pretend to until she could harass her brother, the most likely culprit for this. She hoped it was burning his eyes, sticky fingered little....

So she'd crawled back into bed and curled up, and set aside the steaming rage to be hashed out at the dinner table over cereal. Mom usually wasn't well humored to her making things public, but dad was still mad enough about the riding lawnmower that he'd be ready to take reasons to pile-drive the no electronics mandate for even longer. Wrong move, turd.

And curled on her side, she fell asleep after some not that set aside rage. The reckoning would be afoot come six am.

But she'd woken up suddenly, or at least... she thought she did. Maybe. Unlikely, now that she thinks about it.

All she'd heard as the folds of her comforter revealed nothing was chuckling, before a voice she felt like she should know spoke.

"Pardon the interruption, but I think this story needs its star actor, yes?"

Suddenly, she was thrown in someone's arms.

Under different circumstances she'd aim towards making fun of their clothes, but, well...

It was undeniably a well put together fantasy costume. The sort of thing she'd pick out for one of the guys, if they'd have the intelligence to get her help for any costume parties.

Though, it was definitely sparking a familiar mental image right now...

Arms were wrapped around her, hoisting her back upwards enough to get her feet under her and peel back from them a little bit.

Which is about where it all made some sense.

His hair was messily styled; the right balance of non effort while still being meticulous to the trained eye. His fur pauldrons framed his startled look as the cape swished back with all the sudden movement.

And above all else, he was holding her...

Officially, pinch her. This was too much to wake up to.

Or not, given the scene... 

It was straight out of her notebook. She was the only being in existence that knew what was in there, and this wasn't something her brother could rig up. He'd be a freak to try doing something like this, besides.

It's not like you can slap a white wig on Mikey or Dash and call it good, this was clearly Phantom in front of her, and this simply had to be The Evergreen Field!

Phantom- the prince- shifted from her, looking  over her form extremely carefully.

Right, right, it's weird and strange for some random girl to appear and be enthused at him.

Hell, what were his lines? It can't be that hard.

"Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one." Phantom tittered, just so slightly breathless.

"An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps..." He trailed, shifting his arms up to her hands.

"Lady Manson may well keep the top spot." He clicked, seemingly extremely put off.

That... wasn't it, but it was close enough!

"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She quipped, giggling.

Hey, no, wait. She knows that last name. Why's that name in her book?

Maybe... She's read before that the brain will pull from people and things it knows in sleep, so that's gotta be it.

Because if this is real... 

Frightening thought..

~

("I know you can hear me. You wouldn't dare not be listening in to my thoughts if  only to make fun of me more. We can discuss this, and come to some sort of peace.")

("Don't you like it, child?  She seems so fond  of you, it'd be a shame denying her her fantasies!")

("I know you know I know, you're making fun of me and that is bait. Ha ha, make me flip over being the valiant white knight prince in one of your stories, get her outta here you damn creep!)

("Oh child, this one isn't mine. I took the liberty of polishing it up some , but this story is all hers... Won't you make her dreams, her fantasies, come to... such life?"

Smug bastard speaking in riddles, struggling to finish his own goddamn sentences.

Or... No. Wait. This cannot possibly be this straight forward. Oh, what a mess this is!

His tongue was only slightly unstuck though, meaning he was still going to have a very bad time with speaking normally.

But god, her surprised enthusiasm was clearly waning to concern and fear.

""Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one. An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps... Lady Manson may well keep the top spot."

No, no, no! That should've been ,,I haven't seen an entrance like that since a friend of mine crashed the chandelier into a ball"!!

Not that that was an entrance, but still!

("Unhand my tongue, wretched puppet master.") He spat, cringing as Ghost Writer cackled. Not even his projected thoughts were safe?

"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She laughed, bouncing back to enthused and looking at him like there was no danger going on right now. For a split second her smile tightened, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"A fair lady friend of mine, who's of no relevance presently. Did the fall hurt?" He pressed, trying to ignore how the words tripped over his lips ever so lamely.

He was super gonna kill Ghost Writer a second time for this one, mark his words!

"Nope! I'm a-okay here, mister Phantom." She grinned, pleased with his attention. Fucks sake…

"Such a fall could certainly harm any-"

"Sheesh, lay off! It was just onto you, sir." She laughed, shoving him lightly and peeling off of him to look at the sunlit field.

She swayed slightly, her own eagerness to stand up properly and keep on staring, thankfully dragging her eyes off of him and looking excited at the damn horse.

This was going to be a big migraine, and it hadn't even really started! The anglerfish would be better right now, at least innocents wouldn't be with him!

("I'm completely innocent of all crimes, and you need to let her go no matter what you think you're going to accomplish.") Danny shot at Ghost Writer, gritting his teeth into the absurd grin Ghost Writer was clearly typing onto him for this.

The clicking of the typewriter halted, Danny's hopes indulging a doomed little dream before whatever overwrought wit Ghost Writer had could be dropped onto him.

("Nah.")

Nah? Just nah? Uncreative much!

The keys resumed, and the smile on his face didn't get to drop as Paulina went and stumbled over her own feet, stand- ("You did NOT give her kitten pumps in a fucking grass field! You did NOT in fact do-")

("What of it, child? Besides, this is her choice! It's what she imagined herself dressed in!") Ghost Writer snapped back instantly at him, the type-writer pausing seconds after as Paulina seemed to freeze on the spot with Danny's hands moving to steady her.

("Why do you know women's heel types, devil child?") Ghost Writer asked.

While he sounded sincere in asking this, Danny didn't trust that information to stay as idle curiosity. His own words could and would be used against them both to who knows what sorts of effects.

"Madam, are you certain you feel alright?" Danny tried pressing, ignoring Ghost Writer with a pointed mental shove between them.

("Suit yourself child. It won't get you out of this to be oh so petulant to me.") Ghost Writer huffed, continuing to write.

"Yup!" She chirped back, smiling like there wasn't a manic reality altering ghost puppeting this whole strange situation.

The horse very conveniently made noise, and Danny faintly wished Sam was here to be a better social example than his pathetic attempts could ever be.

But then there'd be more swearing and violence if she had actually been with him, so maybe it was better in the short term that she wasn't to cause them hell.

"Well my lady, if you insist on your good health then we should be quick to exit this place, before something else happens here." He said, sharply gesturing to the horse. 

("I can fly and carry her ya loser.")

("Bold of you to try and debate the horse.")

"Ahh, but we haven't really done... Yeah, sure." Paulina said, cautiously agreeing. 

Feet! Lift! From ground! Fly! Fly, goddamnit, fly fly!

“Do what? I find there little to have done.” Danny asked blankly, watching her wobble.

Too many lectures from Sam about the variety of girly shit her mom had tried to put her in left him with far too much knowledge about death traps, formally known as the dreaded high heels, to let him be comfortable with her wobbling around in a grass field. His limbs refused to obey his attempts to reach out to Paulina to help though.

“I find it’s not really important now.” She snipped, approaching the horse to mount it.

To Paulina’s credit she had clearly ridden horses before this weirdo kidnapping, not struggling as Danny looked away.

“You seem embarrassed, my good sir. Why’s that?” She asked, clearly only half serious.

Time ticked slowly as Ghost Writer rewrote his totally witty comeback to her.

“While a pretty dress, I find that they’re bad for hiding a woman's undergarments.” He grit out past Ghost Writers influence.

Paulina slowly turned red and nodded.

(“Is it too crass to say I don’t want to see her underwear in full brazen sight? This horse is absurdly tall compared to us and it’s pretty logical to say.”) Danny pressed Ghost Writer, greatly annoyed.

(“Prince charming cannot say the word panties.”) Ghost Writer staunchly informed him, rude too.

(“Okay. But I wasn’t-”) +

(“Don't lie to me.”)

Danny did not grace that with an answer, watching as Paulina shifted around.

(“Okay, genius, now get me on the horse.”)

(“Can you not ride? I thought that you’ve been on-”)

Danny gave the mental equivalent of a hard stare, not one for this nonsense.

His limbs moving on their own never got any easier than the first instance, the anglerfish a distant memory of a better run in with Ghost Writer.

“Now my lady, might I now ask your name?” Danny asked, letting Ghost Writer take charge.

(“Two ‘now’s? Run out of words?”)

(“Shove it, you brat.”)

Paulina was busy wrapping her arms around his waist as they mocked each other, not yet giving an answer for her name.

“It’s just Paulina, my good sir Phantom.” She muttered through his over fancy clothes, sounding family embarrassed to say it.

“Pretty enough. Prettier most names.” He reassured, making the horse start forth.

“Thank you for your kind words, but I don’t think-” She attempted, squirming as she spoke up.

”Pretty enough to announce to the ball.” He continued, cringing as he realized.

Today was gonna be so, so painful.

I've been Isekaied into Paulina's Novel?!

Welcome to the fic for the EctoImposion 2024 event! I was paired with @thebooo-merang for this wonderful fic, and you should go check them out! And check out the ao3 posting HERE

After an incident with Box Ghost solicits a fight with Ghost Writer, Ghost Writers out for revenge. And Paulina has a convenient little fanfiction that Ghost writer could use. Now Danny just has to survive it, with a starstruck Paulina in tow.

The first chapter doesn't especially need warnings, as everything remains cannon typical. It's under the cut!

~

"Get back here!" Danny shouted, ready to be done with wit for today.

"I, THE BOOOX GHOOOST, WILL-"

"Piss off Ghost Writer!" Do you just break into random lairs in search of weird boxes!?" Danny screeched, trying to dive after a flying notebook.

"I, THE BOX GHOST, WILL-" Box shouted over Danny, waving wildly as he went and sending even more boxes and books flying back and forth.

"RUIN WHAT LITTLE TRUCE I'VE GOT GOING WITH HIM!" Danny cut back, struggling to grab books mid-air with one arm and blast Boxy into submission with the other.

"THE BOX GHOST HAS NO NEED FOR LECTURES ON YOUR INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS! PREPARE TO BE DESTROYED!"

Danny was gonna kill him this time!

~

Boxes and books rained over the town, causing havoc and mild property damage to the unprepared. Paulina could only huff and puff as she bolted across the open street from shop to shop, trying to find somewhere to camp out while Phantom dealt with the box menace, trying to keep an eye out for whatever storefront Star had managed to find for herself.

Another keeper kept their shoulder into the door as she pushed, and bitterly she cursed them out. She probably didn't get any sympathetic glances through the wood door, but whatever! Rude ass motherfuckers locking out innocents while there was an attack!

It was tempting to keep under the eave, but beyond being mere cloth too much was getting tossed around- plenty enough room for something to slam in sideways and get her then!

God! One good day is all she wanted right now.

Though a few more after wouldn't go amiss...

There! The geek shit shop was probably going to let her in! Maybe!

She didn't care, actually, she'd punch through the glass if she had to! Take that, losers!

First, she needed the mental psyche up to dart across the road again. Three, two, one, go!

The owner, or possible customer, waved behind the glass as she ran.The door opened and closed near instantaneously on her entry.

The sound of Phantom yelling at The Box Ghost dampened as the bell rang, and the store owner gave her an uneasy smile and gestured towards the windowless back. 

“Everyone’s in the back. Might be cramped by now, but there’s a lot of shelves to sit behind.” He nervously informed, eyeing the glass windows.

The casual thumbs up sent him away as she bent slightly to wheeze out the adrenaline.

Yeah, cheer takes some stamina, but adrenaline really messes up her rhythm!

Breath caught, it was time to pack in with the other unlucky idiots back here. With care and precision she marched over behind the popular shelf, examined the bodies packed like sardines, and picked a new shelf to hide behind.

This one was packed with books instead of weird anime figures and dungeons and dragons minis, the spines a cold comfort as she sat down and started staring.

The titles on this sort of crap were so weird… 

But she supposed Star seemed to enjoy them, Star's rants echoing clearly in her head. 

She wouldn’t admit it with a gun to her head, but after enough of those rants… she may or may not be able to pick out a few of the series on display.

Sue her, she's a sucker for some of the romances even if they were trashy a lot of the time. And Star's collection at this rate was pretty impressive, to the point Paulina was convinced she was the only reason a store like this could keep afloat in a town like Amity.

The other nerd shit probably helped it keep alive, though. More screaming outside, this time sounding like it was from The Box Ghost in rage. Good. Phantom could pummel that no good fool to goo for what it mattered.

... Ugh. The fight could easily take a long time; Box Ghost might be weak, but he clearly had a lot of material to use this time. But whatever. Here she is in a castle of weeb books. Maybe some could be a good distraction.

~

"No! Not you!"

"Yes, me! Did you think you could trash my library and get away with it!?" Ghost Writer roared, trying to come up from behind.

"It wasn't me, it was-"

But Box Ghost was already gone, the leftover boxes of books now floating to the ground in a suspiciously gentle manner.

Coward. The thought wouldn't leave as Danny shifted the books he'd been trying to save around, awkwardly offering the armful to Ghost Writer. 

Ghost Writer loomed ominously.

~

All at once the outside world went quiet, some shouting occasionally coming close enough to hear, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief loud enough to drag Paulina from her pile of books.

Five more minutes would've been great to finish the book she'd had in hand, not that it mattered...

Now she needed to find where Star ran off to without her, the books carefully left behind in a pile.

Phantom and a ghost she couldn’t recognize quipped back and forth, the day still significantly quieter than it had been fifteen minutes before. The area remained strewn with books, the ghost gesturing to some on a roof.

Now, she could walk around the district lost and confused looking for Star... Or just sit back down on a nice ledge and wait for Star to come to her while watching Phantom.

Phantom made an odd twist in the air as he shouted, still a little too distant to make out properly.

Yeah, watching sounded so much safer and calmer. One hop later and she was perched on top of one of the lower walls purporting to be defensive.

Fat lot of good they did...

Phantom and his assailant came closer, lending her a nice view of what was going on.

Maybe she shouldn't be here, but it seemed to be more arguing than fighting, so whatever.

"While I'm sorry my NOT PARTNER didn't have a spine, you can have yours back!" Phantom shouted as they passed overhead, throwing a book at the weird ghost.

She had to huff out a clipped laugh as the ghost was whacked, even as the ghost elected to bolt as it realized its inferiority.

She could just hear the stunned silence from Phantom, right before he cried out "Get back here!" 

Truly, a foolish thing to think it could stand up to the town hero.

With a certain lack of ceremony, the book the from the fight fell onto her 

"Ouch!" She yelped, one hand raising to rub her scalp as the other fumbled for the offending book.

The whole thing might be a sign it's time to get up and go. Still...

"Raining books is a new one." She muttered, far too late for the comment to be witty but all the same a perfectly serious remark on the latest weird shit Amity came up with.

She cautiously eyed the book in her hands, looking for any oddities. You could never quite trust some of this stuff...

It was just a notebook. Nothing special about it, besides being a trophy for today. The decoration and signature on front was incomprehensible to her, an initial she didn't recognize against the slightly plain front.

Caving to curiosity, the book opened easily. Not that she’d expected anything else. 

It revealed... nothing. Nothing at all. None of the pages had any sort of writing in them.

Well she can't be begrudged for snooping- it's her prize right now. An apology for getting assaulted in broad daylight. This G-W could just deal with it, and the spat was already away from her, so it's not like she was going to be in more danger sitting here.

The blank notebook continued to be uninteresting, and she couldn’t help her annoyance as she shut it. There wasn’t a damn thing to pay her back for getting hit.

Or... well...

She could feel her lip work up into a slight smirk.

I have been wanting to write a new Phantom fic...

The thought was clear as day to her, even as she couldn't wait for the night. What better way to celebrate this particular trophy?

~

Ghost Writer was forced to watch on in abject misery as he realized his collection had been tossed around like a toddler’s toys. No respect whatsoever from the box obsessed lunatic for the actual contents of the boxes.

The nerve! The audacity! To treat his writing like this! The ghost may well need a lesson in manners.

But first, Phantom.

Sure, the boy wasn't the sole force at work- but undeniably the lunatic never would've gotten close to his manuscripts if Phantom hadn't been snooping around in his library.

But don't think he's lost the plot of getting his own books tossed at him! The tactical retreat was nothing more than an admission of lack of home turf!

Nothing to do with not having his typewriter or any notebooks activated!

Ahem... So the child would need an appropriate punishment as well.

Sometime after he collected his books

The whole lot of them, all across town! Lunatics.

It was easy enough to threaten people away from his scripts, but nonetheless annoying and time consuming. Go here, show up there, yell to get their grubby mitts off his stuff. 

Ugh.

The annoyance was the cost of getting everything back. though. He pointedly ignored Phantom’s continued patrolling, likely looking for whatever trap Ghost Writer would end up creating.

Easy enough to stay low and out of sight in the meantime. Whatever he was about to do, it wasn't a ‘now’ plan. Such things take planning, and unfortunately it's not the season to stick the boy back into Christmas stories.

So he was collecting his books, and chasing fools away from them. The cost of love, he supposed.

Still, he was being forced to waste hours upon hours taking his books out of the hands of fools. Having such a collection was not currently a point of pride; He’d have to figure out what went where later.

Slowly but surely his boxes filled back up as he found his manuscripts. There was his old horror story from the eighties, there was his attempt at something akin to a superhero comic, there was his dabbling in... well he couldn't remember either, but if he sat to read it right now it'd take hours for him to finish the book. No reading for him.

Finally, it was time to find his blank notebooks again. He'd be forced to admit that he simply cared less if these ones vanished mysteriously, for a blank notebook was nothing more or less than a possibility.

Most were alright, scattered down the streets carelessly. Some had been picked up and put back down to be examined by wretched hands at a later date.

There was an exception though, something swaying as if held at the edge of where he could feel things. Curious, for how late at night it was getting, but that'd just mean he needed to scare another pathetic mortal off his books.

The pull and search brought him to a cracked window in the suburbs. Nothing meaningful crossed his path, though it was good to be wary; The boy was likely still patrolling, and no doubt Ghost Writer's appearance had put him on edge. As it should.

Slowly rising up to look through, invisible to the mortal eye, he could hear a girl rambling slightly. 

His look through the window was enlightening, the girl curled onto her bed as she wrote with ink that even from this distance sparkled with glitter.

"And then Princess Paulina lived happily ever after with Prince Phantom, aaannd the end." She whispered, pleased with herself.

Barely pausing, she snapped the book shut and laid it on her nightstand, moving to stand and stretch.

Shouting called her away, which was plenty convenient for him even as she huffed and puffed out of the room.

It was child's play to take the notebook back, even with it defiled by mortal hands. It wasn't a toy to be left with creatures that didn't understand what could be done with such tools.

The cover had already been decorated with a couple of stickers and a flowing cursive he couldn't bother deciphering at this second.

Phasing back out of the room and coming to rest back outside of the window, he flipped the cover open.  The inside was decorated similarly.

Oh, yes. That was glitter pen. The pages were coming away bedazzled with runaway glitter.

This book was most certainly going to have to be put in its own container, but for right this second the name on the inside was of modest curiosity.

Paulina Sanchez in bold strokes, fancy flourishes forgone in favor of legibility. If found, return to owner, do not read.

Well now he just had to, didn't he? It wasn't like the rest of the books were going anywhere, the grand total of three he still had to find now could rest safely.

Or well... No, he could spare the time now> What would the boy do, if it blows up on them both? The books shouldn't even be in the town anyways, and it was most certainly his fault thank you very much!

He quickly leafed through the beginning burning through thanks to his superior-ness and a speed reading class he'd attended before.

... hmm.

Hmmmmm.

He'd recently been complaining about what to do with the boy, no?

"This could work." He spoke to no-one, clapping the book shut. For now.

~

Barely past sunrise, Danny squinted at the sky and grumbled. Damn malicious blob ghosts, eating billboards.

Not that he cares about the billboards, but first it's a billboard and then it's drywall.

"Catch!" Got shouted, an object (presumably) sailing from behind him.

Snapping too and turning, he could see Ghost Writer grin manically in glee as a book opened wide.

All he could do was choke out an "eh?" as he reflexively reached, the book splayed open and glowing. Illustory pages floated up and off, and he had a really bad feeling about what was coming next as the world around him went white.

~

Coming to under Ghost Writers writing was not a fun thing to experience, see. One did not simply fade into one of his chaotic and weirdly random worlds. You blink and then suddenly you're just there!

Danny was there, wherever there was. Somewhere was currently a bright grass field, with a decorated horse beside him.

Which he would grant was a better entrance than the last time he'd been flung into one of Ghost Writer's many insane stories.

He would never forget that anglerfish...

But almost just as fast as he got here there was another stupidly bright light, and someone was falling into his arms, briefly bundled into his chest before quickly popping back up to look at him.His tongue was stuck in a way that implied Ghost Writer had ideas about what he should or shouldn't be saying at this time, but that didn't stop the extremely strained noise he gave when he realized the person was Paulina, looking VERY enthused.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[radiance1]

"Danny!" Danny turned around to find Plasmius, gunning straight for him on his motorbike, and came to a quick stop as if he wasn't about to run him over. "You need to keep your alternative self on a leash. You hear me?"

Danny took one long sip of his tea, staring Plasmius straight in the eyes, savored the taste for a moment before swallowing. "Nuh uh."

"What do you mean 'Nuh uh'!?"

"Nuh uh."

Plasmius straight up hissed, red eyes glowing from beyond his pair of sunglasses as he stared the teenager down. "Do you know how many times he's woken me up, before the sun itself is up, just to annoy me into spending valuable hours of my time with him!?"

Danny took another sip of his tea, reaching a hand under his shirt to scratch his stomach. "That sounds like a you problem, really."

"Da-"

"You know he's also made from you right? If I had to fight him, you're going to be annoyed by him." Danny stated plainly, making a gesture with his thermos. "Also, it's a bonus for me since you're too busy to do your frootloop things-"

Plasmius grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt and wrinkled his nose. "You really need to get better pajamas than a simple shirt and oversized pants." He placed the boy under his arm and took the sky. Danny idly shifted to Phantom as he took another sip. "So like, where're you taking me?"

"To go and put stop to that imbecile."

"You know I had plans today."

"Ice cream for a month, all from my card."

Phantom humed. "Make it two."

"Deal."

Phantom flexed his fingers. "...Three..."

"Doable."

"Oh, you're actually serious about this."

A drive later

You see, Dan was having the time of his life. Strongarming that old man at the asscrack of dawn, driving to Metroplis and causing mass amounts of property damage with the crown jewel being that he got to chase around Superman in an attempt to run him over.

He should've expected something to go wrong.

One moment, he was casually minding his business, trying to trample one of the Earth's greatest heroes under his motorbike. The next he was nearly knocked off of it when something slammed into him.

"Ello." Phantom said calmly, as if he wasn't just thrown by Plasmius right into his alternative self from a future that no longer exists. "Twerp." Dan also said 'calmly' as he grabbed onto Phantom and lifted him off of him.

Then dropped him.

Superman was very quick to catch the boy. "Thanks." Phantom said, and Superman smiled. "You're welcome! Are you here to pick him up now, or are you just waiting?"

"I'm getting three months worth of ice cream if I stop him now so like, pick him up I guess."

Superman help him up under the armpits and faced him towards Dan. "He's here to pick you up, by the way!"

"I fucking heard that!" Dan shouted at Superman before turning his attention to Phantom. "Also, what the fuck! You can't just do that! Did that old fuck put you up to this!?"

"Whaaaat? Noooo, he would neveeer..." Phantom glanced around, looking for Plasmius before clicking his tongue. There was an unfortunate lack of said halfa to throw under the bus. "If you stop for like, now, I'll share some of my ice cream with you."

Dan genuinely considered this proposal. "Know what, fine." He yanked Phantom from Superman's hold and dropped him onto the seat beside him before driving away.

"Enjoy your ice cream!" Superman shouted.

"Shut the fuck up boy scout!" Dan shouted back.