#thought to start this up with a bit of a...... mindfuck while both of us are In Knowing.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Here to beg for smutty Gale and Maureen thoughts 🙏🏻🙏🏻 I love those two

Oh Nonnie, I’ve got a whole one shot charted out that i think you’ll enjoy immensely. Oh how I need time to write! However, let me give you this little backstory.

Our girl Maureen was sulking very hard over not being cool enough to be a pilot -those were the credentials as far as she could see- and having not applied herself very well to her arithmetic as a child, she was having some trouble even cutting it even as a bombardier. It was training, she went through a few crews, there were reshuffles, there were people getting nixed and people getting added and out of the fog came one pilot who actually had been at this longer than five seconds.

And he looked like that. He sounded like that. He took himself so seriously like that she wanted to bite him. And Maureen, I’m sorry to say, had been an excellent trophy hunter of men and exotic game only a few peacetime months ago and just because a war was on, she’d experienced no change of inclination.

She tried to buy him a drink. Got turned down. Allowed the petulance she felt for the whole situation to simmer over and fully had a little cry while he sat on the barstools begging her to understand it wasn’t her he was refusing but the liquor. She bought him a ginger ale instead.

And she called him by it every time after seeing how it made him squirm. Like a little boy getting his head pat for being ever so “good.” To Gale this was a pure mindfuck and one he was pretty sure came from him not yet adjusting to integrated life. Something about the way he lost all his bearings around her, admired things he used to hold in contempt when she exhibited them, and even ended up looking forward to a run in with her like some masochistic fool hopes he trips up and gets lashed for it.

When they start more training runs together, he ends up taking her far more seriously. He had to chew her out the first flight -in that horrible and measured way of his that’s so much worse than a yell- about her clumsiness. She cited her new bombsight as the issue, he called her an ignorant little wall flower without enough math skills. Maureen knew when not to cry, and this was one of those times so instead she just asked for help, and there’s nothing Gale Cleven is so susceptible to as the chance for helping people. Maureen also went back to her bunk after that dressing down and rubbed herself off furiously to the recollection of his intensity and the firmest hand she’d ever been shown.

By England they have become expected to be seen together, not in the way of Bucky and Buck or even Ida and Egan, but rather like Blakely and Douglass. Gale has somewhere along the way list count of the number of jeep rides he’s had to put her hands out of his lap and back in hers. That’s another thing he’s not sure how he allowed, technically he didn’t but she kept disobeying and he has dreams -actual dreams!- of taking her over his knee and dishing out a few smacks her father didn’t see fit to give that pert little ass in her flysuits.

He tells Bucky that once, thinking it a safe and generic thought. Bucky howls over it and places a bet on how soon Maureen’s hand stays in his lap and how soon Buck repays her with a handprint to her derrière.

All this while flying missions. It’s a bit fucked, and sometimes they admittedly both haven’t got much left for this nonesense, the skies take it out of them. Although Maureen would best like to combat those blues by having a man between her legs, and somehow, it feels moderately untrue to Gale to just hop on the next one even though she does from time to time. The way he seems either clueless or unsurprised by it is excruciating.

It makes her have a very venomously honest chat with him once when her courage is sufficiently liquified and he’s got no mission tomorrow. She asks if he loves Bucky instead and the man about swallows his tongue. “I’d understand-“ she’s very firm about it while Gale protests too much. The short of it is some admittance to not being in the market for girlfriends while fighting a war, the fact a kiss between them could get both court marshaled and well, yes, maybe what he needs he gets from his friendship with Bucky. He’s never been in love before and does she really expect him to suddenly learn to do it both ways?

She does. Even after telling him quite strongly that if her were to ask, Bucky would give that friendship to him “both ways”. Which is another topic to get court marshaled about and Gale says goodnight….After having let her chew on his earlobe an indefinite amount of time while she was suggesting this filth. He ends up back in the showers doing what used to be an occasional self care and is now and almost nightly occurrence.

And then. Egan is drunk, Candy is drunk, Biddick is drunk. One of them asks get to punched so they can feel something. One is reluctant as that’s a crazy ass thing to ask. The other is delighted at the opportunity to do so with no repercussions.

And that’s how Maureen badly hurts her hand on Bucky Egan’s face. While Egan goes to meet the new CO, a little knocked about and mildly dazed, Maureen gets hauled to the base hospital by Gale to get those busted knuckles sorted. It’s not a dire emergency, not even worthy of taking staff away from those who need it -this Maureen insists and maybe the staff agrees as after Cleven tells them he’s looking for gauze and antiseptic, they tell him it’s in the back room, have at it major.

And while back there, watching his intent little face cleaning her cuts and his voice gently berating her foolishness and also admiringly asking how she learned to punch like that -she tells him,

“Did you know I’m ambidextrous?”

And that’s how Gale Cleven got his first handjob in the backroom of the hospital.



#long story long #i don’t have a smitty headcanon list in my head yet but have this #Gale x Maureen #masters of the air #those who can #Gale Cleven

[quirofiliac]

@epitaffia ／ 💥

It starts with a chase-- all good movies do. That's how they grab a viewer's attention in an instant (a snap of the fingers, something kira's finding himself having to do more often nowadays.) with minimal effort. A chase scene was about the same as a generic cliffhanger; it certainly got the job done in all the right ways.

A door's been slammed shut behind him, kicked back into place and very nearly off its hinges. His steps are careful, slow, yet almost... cordial. One foot goes in front of the other, and then another slides behind it. Single tracking within his steps, Kira's upright in posture with both arms at his sides. A lamp swings overhead, swaying like a pendulum and casting minimal light at varying intervals.

He's silent, too. That's something he's learned to be (to do-- to become this "thing" that no one dares think about.) from years upon years of observation that gradually led into improvisation. To survive, he's adjusted accordingly. It was an awful experience every time. Common sense dictated that it was the natural order.

He knows what house they're in (it belongs to a woman named... ah, what was her name again? not like it matters. it's not hers anymore but--) and has its layout memorized. One moment he's strolling out from the bedroom and then the next he's already proceeding down a hallway (--it's going to bother him. he's usually a little better with names...) leading into the bathroom. Why was it always the bathroom, anyway?

It seemed to be everyone's favorite place to hide. Each time, too, it never seemed to work.

Quite an expected and lackluster oversight in Kira's opinion.

Running from one place to the other, too, was another common sight in movies. A "protagonist" -- in quotes because, honestly, they're going to die in another minute anyway... -- always picked the one place where it led nowhere. There was no exit. There wasn't anywhere to hide. All that was left was them, huddled inside the bathtub with streaky mascara running down their cheeks, and the leaky sink a few paces off to the left.

Coming to a stop before the door (of course it's shut. little bitch can't face the music with dignity. most of the time, none of them can.) and enclosing his hand around the knob, Kira rests his forehead gently against cedar. Gaze drifts, at first staring straight ahead before dropping down towards his grip. All of his knuckles pressed up against skin, fading it into a stark white in a matter of seconds.

Kira shuts his eyes, cants his head slightly to the right and inhales.

"Can you let me in?" he asks in a voice that teeters on sweet (it's like dealing with a child. how fucking annoying.) with some artificial sugar tossed in last second. He's made to wait. Eyebrows furrow shortly after. "... I think you should let me in."

He jiggled the knob and it's only a little. Another attempt's tried and, still, there's no give.

A sigh's curtailed, promptly swallowed.

"You're... ah, really pissing me off, actually," comes from behind the door, words clearly vocalizing the sneer taking shape on his face. "You're not trying to do that, are you? I just want to talk."

(i'm only going to bash your fucking face in.)

"I'm going to step away from the door-- and then you're going to open it. I am asking you to open the door."

(jesus christ, why do you have to be so difficult?)

Stepping away from the door as if on cue, all's silent save for the footsteps that grow farther and farther away. It's all done in another walk, because that's more than enough. Time wasn't exactly a commodity in this sort of situation but Kira's willing to accommodate. People accommodate for their neighbors-- all the time, actually! That was normal.

With his back still turned, Kira allows for all the tension within his body to expel itself all at once. Shoulders fall in a sudden drop in tune with his head coming up in a slow rise. Eyes peer up at the ceiling, and the lamp continues to swing. He swore he could almost... hear ticking somewhere off in the distance. It doesn't matter. Best not to dwell on it.

One glance's spared down to his watch (it's six o'clock, on the dot. he's late.) but it's fleeting. A single blink takes him away, replaced by him turning on his heel and facing the "horizon" instead. Peering straight at the door, he began pacing towards the door in smooth, even strides only to gradually pick up in speed. Increasing his speed into a jog before breaking into a sprint, Kira swiveled his body to make direct impact between shoulder and door--

"... Are you... um, alright?"

--they're outside now. Always has been.

It's about four o'clock, give or take a few minutes. Kira's been standing idle with arms slack at his sides. A look of mild concern (painted on, unsure if any of this was actually his business though knowing full well it wasn't his problem.) gradually worked itself over his visage, eyebrows slightly knitted inwards as half of a step's taken back.

Crunch of grass beneath his heel was sharp, and it's enough cause for him to tense (what the hell was this guy's problem? were they just letting anyone prowl the streets now?) on the spot. Fingers flinch, flexing briefly before he's tucking both hands away into his pockets.

Throat's cleared, and Kira nudges his head (asking, but politely, "what the fuck is wrong with you?") in their direction shortly after.

"Are you... perhaps... looking for somebody?"

#＊ 💥 持味：in character. #＊ 💥 𝐯.one，今：another one bites the dust！！ #* smiles at u with Knowing in my eyes * #hiiii leaf <3 thank u sm for liking for a starter!! :D #thought to start this up with a bit of a...... mindfuck while both of us are In Knowing. #also you don't have to match length!! i went... crazy with the preamble. as i tend to do. < / 3

[chikaras-garden]

Mind Games

Kenma takes control of your pleasure as punishment.

Pairing: dom!Kemna x sub!fem!reader

Words: 1.2k

Contains: discipline/punishment, use of toys (it’s just a vibrator), blindfolds, there’s a threat of public sex and dubcon that isn’t actually followed through on, orgasm control, orgasm denial, mild degradation, R is called “whore” and “slut”

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Requested by anon. Honestly this one’s a little bit of a mindfuck and I’m kind of sorry.

The telltale sounds of Kenma’s current favorite game fill the room. The soft music, pings, and chimes all sound louder while you’re blindfolded, your ears compensating for your lack of sight. You bite your lip, fidgeting in the position your boyfriend left you in. Then, you whimper, “Are you streaming?”

There’s a pause. Then, a quiet “hm,” a sound as if you startled him, as if he wasn’t paying attention to you at all until now. 

“I wonder,” is the answer you receive. You let out a shuddering breath in response to the smirk you hear in his voice.

Your relationship has rules, boundaries, lines not meant to be crossed. All actions have clear consequences, all of which mutually agreed upon by yourself and Kenma.

He likes when you’re in bed before he’s done streaming. Knowing that he stays up too late, he doesn’t want the same for you; it’s his way of protecting you, of caring for you. Problem is, you have a similar difficulty when it comes to taking care of yourself.

You stayed up later than he did. You were tired the next day. That alone was the consequence for not getting enough sleep. The blindfold, the punishing position on your knees, and the vibrator tucked between your already-puffy folds are the consequence for breaking one of your relationship’s rules.

As per the agreement.

“Can they…” you trail off, words making your tongue feel clumsy, like a stumbling baby deer, “...hear it?”

There’s a soft click that you recognize: the sound of his microphone switching off.

“The vibrator?” he asks, as if he’s asking what’s for dinner. “Oh, no. They couldn’t hear that.”

Then, there’s a chime from Kenma’s screen: He leveled up, and you hear a soft chuckle of pride rumble from his chest. At the same time, though, the vibration pattern switches. Kenma’s in complete control, removing his hand from his game’s controller for a split second to dance his fingers over the app on his phone that’s connected to the sleek black bullet nestled between your thighs.

This pattern hums harder, faster, and knocks your breath right out of you. You suck in a breath through your teeth, clamping your jaw shut to keep a mewl from slipping out.

You almost double forward, pressing your lower belly into your thighs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you rock on your legs in time with the new rhythm. WIth a gasp, you feel the vibration start to consume you, pleasure building so rapidly that your clit starts to ache.

“Ken,” you gasp, “can I please come?”

He doesn’t verbalize an answer, but the lethargic clicks and taps of his controller are all the reply you need. The game taunts you: no, you can’t come. Not yet. Not now. You groan in response, but the pitiful sound is drowned by the triumphant chime of a turn-based battle just won.

There’s the click again. Your breath hitches, both from the vibration pattern pulsing inside you and from the thought that his followers might hear you writhing. How many people watch his streams on a daily basis? You know he has millions of followers, but some of them are surely bots—how many are real? How many real people are online, right now, listening to your boyfriend stream while you’re getting fucked in the background?

You roll your hips forward in time with the vibrator while its pattern takes over your heartbeat. It’s consuming you, and you close your eyes while you think of what his viewers must be thinking right now.

Do they think you’re a filthy whore? Too insatiable to wait for Kenma’s stream to end, so you had to get fucked like this? Are they getting off on this, too? 

If only they knew what the sensation of being heard-but-not-seen was doing to you right now, how dwelling on what they must think of you makes you gush around expensive silicone. If only they knew that thinking of you as nothing more than Kenma’s brainless slut pushes you closer, closer to the peak of your orgasm.

“Kenma,” you whine, slurring the syllables together as tears prick the back of your eyes. “Please?”

You hear him chuckle, tap-tap-tapping away at something on his computer. Your heart begins to race—something on stream? Chatting with his mods? Do they know what he’s doing to you?

“She thinks she should come,” he muses. Your stomach twists and blood rushes to your core. Those words aren’t for you; they’re about you, mocking you, making it perfectly clear to whoever’s listening that you’re a soaking mess for him.

You hold in a moan. How many people could it be? Thousands? Tens of thousands?

Without warning, the vibration pattern switches again. Now, it pulses like a heartbeat, never quite dropping to zero, but quickly ramping up to a speed that makes you see stars behind the black of the blindfold. 

Each pulse of its fullest intensity makes you gasp. You can’t get your bearings with this pattern; instead, you’re at its mercy, rocking erratically into the cushion beneath your knees. There’s a sound of swords clashing rapidly, somewhere in the distance, but as your mind turns to mush, you can’t focus on anything other than “come,” “come now.”

Kenma levels up again. Like you, he’s grinding, relentlessly pursuing the high of success, of release from whatever’s holding you back—be it a low level or a building orgasm.

Your clit throbs, sending shivers up and down your spine. You double over as a moan bursts free from your lips, and you don’t care. You don’t care who hears you or how many of them there are; all you can think about is how good and perfect and full your pussy feels.

And how good and perfect it feels for the whole world to know you belong to Kenma.

Your hands fall flat on the sheets and ball the fabric up in desperately tight fists. You’re sweating, writhing, moaning like a cat in heat, and finally, finally—you come.

White-hot pleasure takes over you. Face-down on the bed, you’re drooling and whimpering into the sheets. What don’t notice is the way the mattress dips, the soft hand tracing your spine, or the way the vibration finally stops—until the blindfold is suddenly taken off of your eyes.

Kenma.

“Hey,” he murmurs after your eyes blink into focus. Your gaze flicks over his shoulder, to the monitor atop his desk. The game is paused and—most importantly—you don’t see his stream’s overlay.

“You weren’t streaming,” you murmur, delirious. 

Kenma makes an affirmative noise before he cradles your head in one delicate palm, then brings you in close, so your head can rest on his shoulder.

“As if I’d want to share you? No way.” he scoffs. He won’t look at you, but the way he avoids your eyes gives you a perfect view of the red tips of his ears.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you smut #haikyuu x reader smut #kenma smut #kenma x you smut #kenma x reader smut #🌕— dark content. #cw dubcon #cw dubious consent #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #kenma x you #kenma x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #🌸— mine. #🌸— kenma.

[ghosts-cyphera]

Since I'm SO NORMAL about Ghost and what you said about my idea, I can't stop thinking that Ghost wouldn't give reader mask back, actually he would tweak it so it looked like one of his and keep using it. Always using it when you two had some mission together. He would notice how since it happened, reader would always carry an extra mask for him, and OF COURSE it didn't make his heart skip a bit what THE FUCK you on about 🔪.

I imagine that he would be SO conflicted while all of this "get to know" is happening. Everything in him is screaming for him to be the most cold piece of ass so reader would just leave, and he do tries that for a bit after the mask thing happens, but as soon he starts it, he stop it, why? Because he realized it was TOO efective and he didnt like it at all.

All it took was one mean/rude answer from him and reader left him alone like he wanted, or he THOUGHT he wanted, the man watched from afar how you kept talking with the rest of the team and completly ignored him and he was HURT.

But like you said, this man doesnt deal with feelings, so he just pretended nothing happened and went back to talk to you, checking up on you since he doesn't know how to say sorry.

And reader just watched him from afar too, kinda worried that this man really doesnt know how to deal with feelings and wondering what happened to him, but of course they wouldn't dare ask it. Just playing along when he came back.

While the rest of 141 is all like: 👀👀👀🙄😆🙃 watching it all unfold

Link to the first part of this ask 💌

I HEAR YOU, I see you, and I fucking adore you for sharing the same two brain cells with me hahaha.

Seriously, it is not just me who feels only more attracted to Ghost due to his inability to express his emotions, right?

It’s like—I might be a masochist—but the idea of the reader trying so hard to figure out what the hell it is that Ghost wants when every other day he’s giving them the cold shoulder, and every other day he’s checking in on them and telling them a random joke at a slightly inappropriate moment (likely on a stake-out mission or after just having finished sniping someone)—it has me screaming. Oh and he’d totally secretly look at the reader after cracking a joke in hopes to catch a glimpse of their smile because that fucking smile makes his days tremendously better, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

I feel like one day—after yet another moment of Ghost being more distant—the reader would snap and storm to Soap, ranting about how they’re getting fucking whiplash from Ghost’s mood swings, and Soap would sorta just chuckle before going: “y’know it’s because he fuckin’ likes you, right?”

AAAAA can you imagine the fucking mindfuck because while the reader was totally catching feelings for Ghost ever since the whole mask thing happened (fuck, probably even before then because who wouldn’t like a quiet, broody masked man who is fucking hard to approach haha), they genuinely could not tell if Ghost wanted to be their friend or wanted to off them, lol. A healthy mix of both was what they were ready to settle for, but actually hearing Soap say the words was a whole ass spritual awakening.

And suddenly, all the cold shoulders that were followed by Ghost checking in on them made sense. Suddenly the reader begins to notice the way that Ghost would look at them after telling a joke, and the way that he remembers what candybar they like, and how he’d listen to songs that the reader had hummed earlier that week.

WAIT STOP, I can’t breathe hahaha. My chest is doing the thing where it’s swelling with my happiness and excitement and I feel like I’m about to explode.

I’m so ridiculously happy over this hahaha.

#lo answers #hoemine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost x reader

[imagineitdearies]

god I'm still reeling after the 22 chapter. what a mindfuck. also since you said you can talk about Astarion for hours let me take advantage of that.

so we know what Tyrus thought about this whole situation with forced bj but what about Astarion. i need his pov. was he dissociating by default, or enjoying himself despite the circumstances because it was Tyrus and feeling hella guilty afterwards?

and with the second part of the chapter what prompted his breakdown? pls ramble away ;)

Hi anon 🥰

Haha oh no, I've revealed my (very obvious) achilles heel!!

Yes yes, let's talk about Astarion in this scene 👀

As Astarion mentioned, he'd been studying up on Polymorph, hoping to prove he could be useful and an equal partner in their relationship, when Tyrus walks in.

Then Tyrus is acting off (the poor boy is not subtle about it) and 9/10 times it's thanks to Cazador, so Astarion assumes at the beginning that Tyrus has been assaulted again. And after hearing what Cazador has manipulated Tyrus into agreeing to instead, Astarion is both relieved and terrified. Their last time was absolutely awful for both of them, and at first that's all he associates this with--it's why he's so tense even whilst agreeing that he'd rather Tyrus do this with him than Cazador. Ch7 flashbacks 💀

And then he gets pulled out of it when Tyrus starts getting on his knees, reminding himself this time can be different to some extent, thanks to their bond and the lack of conditions Cazador set. At first, he's of the mindset "do the least harm," much like he was in ch4 first "teaching" Tyrus during initiation. Except this time he's sooooo much more attached to Tyrus and worried about his discomfort--not to mention feeling an unpleasant, niggling feeling of guilt about how much Tyrus has done for him of late only to now be giving him a blowjob as well. And Astarion has to shut his mouth and not offer one back even though he desperately wants to even things out because, well, he knows Tyrus too well 😂

We also have to remember that receiving a blowjob/oral sex isn't all that common in the prostitution business. Sure, it happens if the customer wants it, but very very rarely, and even then the point is always to make sure they're enjoying themselves, not Astarion, and it's usually just foreplay for the main event.

But with Tyrus in this scene, it ends up being very strange for Astarion . . . because he knows that Tyrus is not going to get his rocks off doing it. The point (besides Cazador's gross enjoyment) is Astarion's release, Astarion's pleasure. Which Tyrus does seem to care about, despite the circumstances. It's quite the novel experience.

So, while he's at first very focused and checking in on Tyrus's comfort throughout the scene, once Tyrus gets into a groove so to speak (😂) Astarion finds himself caught up in enjoying it, almost able to forget everything else, and just focus on the good parts: the physical pleasure, feeling close to Tyrus, and the pretty sight of watching him.

He's a bit confused when Tyrus ignores his warning, but his brain really isn't working enough to think hard about it before he reaches his peak and has to come down from that. Aaaaand that's when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, of course. For a split instant he doesn't understand why Tyrus would say such a thing--and then he does understand, his faculties returning to him enough that he knows who sent him this message. And all he can feel is disgust and anger, both at Cazador and at himself for enjoying it, because that means he accepted the gift.

Afterwards, his main concern is Tyrus, and then the discontent of feeling so helpless, so useless. Cue him bringing up Polymorph, and everything that follows!!

....I may have to make this a two-parter, because my ramblings are already huge now without getting more into what prompted Astarion's breakdown 😂😂

Part 2 of this Ask

#fic: perfect slaughter #ask me anything #bg3 fanfiction

[lookatlavender]

wow... wow. yes. you desperately trying to contain yourself with my thigh between your legs, wanting so badly to grind on me. i'd make you look at me and wrap my hands around your throat. i know it's hard, but try to stay still for me, sweet one, okay? you need to sleep and we both know you're just going to end up trying to fuck me again if you start teasing yourself on me again. of course, while i say that, i'd push my thigh up against you a little harder.

ffffuck the mindfuck of everything gentle i do to you being a punishment because you're so desperate to earn your ruins. i'd make you beg to be allowed to hurt yourself for me and then when you're done spanking your pussy raw i'd edge you gently on my tongue as a reward for being such a very good boy. of course i'd be moaning into your boycunt because i love the feeling of it, and of course we'd have to find a way to punish you if you ruined from the vibrations of my voice. i'd train you to start repeating your mantra, good boys don't cum, every time you get close. it'll help you hold back and it'll help me control you. a win-win ❤️

i keep thinking about training you for long-term denial. you'd stop begging to cum quickly because you already know the answer. you know it's not about your orgasm. you know i like you teased and denied. when you beg to be ruined i'd make fun of you, not even begging for a whole orgasm anymore. isn't that pathetic, sweet one? that you cum all over you so many times a day and you haven't had a full orgasm in weeks? those piercings we talked about could be how you finally earn one ❤️ giving yourself over to me completely just to be able to cum once more for pleasure.

mmm. this is making me wish i had counted how many times i've cum since the start of your denial. i've cum twice today thinking about you, and i'm about to make myself cum thinking about you ruining one last time.

when you do cum, whichever type of stimulation you use, i think you should put on a timer for an hour and force yourself to go for the whole hour, no matter how intense it is. 💫

god the way you would hear me whine at that treatment 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 being told not to grind while you press your thigh up against me, teasing even worse and making me want to grind until i can’t even think anymore 🙈 i’d grab onto you so desperately, trying to ground myself and focusing on your hands on my throat, whine about how you’re being such a tease and making it so hard to be a good boy for you. i might just clench my thighs around yours, hold myself tight there and try to keep myself still that way.

it would be so fucking hot when i realized what i was doing too 🙈 the first time i came to you begging and caught myself begging for pain instead of for you to touch me, realizing that it was an automatic ask at this point. i hadn’t even thought about it, just spouted what my brain knew you wanted and what comes out is me begging for you to hurt me. of course you’d find a way to make even that a bit crueler, and force me to do it myself. force me to be entertaining enough for you to keep watching while i torture myself for you. i’d spank my own pussy until i was crying, and any time you looked bored i would switch to a different instrument. first up to my small flogger, then a bigger one. soon i’d move on to a wooden paddle, heavy and solid. i wouldn’t even be able to hit myself very hard with it because of how intense it is (i know from experience) but i would still try my hardest for you. i’d make sure every hit count, til i was red and puffy and sore for you. and only then would you call me over to tease me, once you knew that even the softest touch from your tongue would be even sweeter torture than the hits had been. you could suck on my tdick and probably make me scream if you wanted to, either from pleasure or pain or both. wouldn’t even have to keep sucking, just once hard so I shriek and you can pull away, softly laughing and remarking how usually i like that so much, what’s changed?

and once i finally started getting close you’d know, hear me mumbling to myself at first maybe and then more clearly, me telling myself over and over that good boys don’t cum while i twist my fingers in the sheets and try to hold myself back for you 😵‍💫🙈

the fantasy of long term denial really is so hot too 🙈🙈 it might take me time to truly give it up, but eventually i would. let you take my orgasms for real, especially when i got the piercings and let you lock me up for real. that last orgasm would be so sweet, a final reminder of what i was giving up to you before i never get one again. and i know you’d guide me through it and remind me all the reasons it was gonna be so much better to be denied by you, to retrain my mind to think of your pleasure only and totally give up mine. unless you’re using it against me that is 😈😵‍💫

i wish i knew how many times you’d cum for me too, i’d use the number of ruins and make that how many days i have to go on a no touch for you 🙈 i hope you did end up making yourself cum to the thought of me ruining. and i hope you cum even more times to the audio i post of me finally being allowed to cum after so long 😵‍💫

i wish i’d had time to go for that long 🙈🙈🙈 i would have been so fucked out 😵‍💫 someday i need to take an entire day and just dedicate the whole thing to fucking myself, stretching out all my holes and making myself cum over and over until i’m overstimulated and sensitive to the touch. maybe at the end of all of it all give my pussy a few good spanks while it’s still sensitive 🤭🤭🤭

#lavender asks #💫 anon

[spicyspencerreid]

A Little Funny

Fem!Reader; BAU!Reader// A whole 1,688 words :)

Warnings// Swearing!! Very very unproofread and I wrote it in one sitting. Okay this gets pretty steamy, it’s like almost smut, I got pretty carried away. FLUFF.

Key// Y/n- your name Y/n/n- your nickname Y/l/n- your last name. 

From Anon// can you write something where Spencer and the reader are in a secret relationship and Hotch walks in on them at work. could you also add that the reader is super bubbly and laughs a lot. thank you! p.s. i love your writing. 

To Anon// Ty & I love this idea :)))) I tried to include all of it, hope you like it!

Summary// It’s short and sweet, pretty much the request down to a T :)

He had to know what he was doing. He had to. Him and Derek were having a casual conversation, but there was absolutely nothing casual about the way his tongue traced over his lower lip. You were staring, but to be honest, you couldn’t help it. The way his tongue moved when he spoke. The focused look on his face was making you melt. You repeatedly crossed and uncrossed your legs, trying to stay sane as you watch the way he moved. 

“Y/n,” Emily snapped her fingers at your face with a smile as she returned to your seat, “You’re practically drooling,” you ignored her teasing, more focused on the fact that she’d gotten in the way of your view. She was the only member of the team who knew about you and Spencer’s secret relationship. You liked to think Emily knowing about you two was a good thing. You were always giggling and smiling, even with this job you’d managed to keep up your happy spirit. So there were times when Spencer would call you his light in the darkness, or his sunshine, and you were happy you two could be happy around her. 

She almost lost her shit when you told her, well told is an exaggeration. You were having a girls night and she saw one of Spencer’s favorite socks on the carpet next to your bag. You’d begged her not to say a single word to anyone else, claiming you and Spencer were waiting for the right moment to tell the team, and while she’d been great about that, the teasing was relentless.

“Oh stop,” you sneered, “...and can you move just a little bit to the left.”

“Pathetic, Y/n, pathetic,” you smiled at her and she did as you asked, positioning herself so that she wasn’t obstructing your view of Spencer. You returned to staring, slowly dragging the pen in your hand on your lower lip, before lightly chewing it, you needed something to occupy your mouth more than anything. And then the hand motioning started, he was trying to explain something to Derek. You watched his hands, your mind wandering to other places, other places you definitely shouldn’t have been thinking about during work. Derek went back to his seat, and Spencer looked over you. You took a second to register the fact he was looking at you, still dragging your pen along your teeth. Spencer raised his eyebrows at you and you snapped out of it, immediately blushing and looking down at your paperwork. Emily asked you a question and you snapped back into work mode. The both of you started to look at a document when you felt Spencer’s presence approach your desk. 

“Ahem, Agent Y/l/n,” Spencer cleared his throat. 

“What could I do for you Dr. Reid?” You bit down on your pen, trying to stop yourself from giggling at the formality as you stared down at the paper, teasing him by refusing to make eye contact.  

“I need to find some old case files and was wondering if you could help me out?” He bit his lip, clearly also trying to hold back a smile as well. You looked up to meet his eyes, instantly melting even more. 

“I guess I could be of service,” you looked over at Emily, who was fake gagging across the desk from you. You glared at her before following Spencer down the hall into the file room. He shut the door behind you and you grabbed one of his hands. 

“So, which boxes should I start looking through first?” You smiled as you  loosely played with the fingers that had been on your mind. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n/n,” he smiled as he pulled you into him, connecting his lips with yours. His hands immediately went to your waist, yours making their way up to his neck. You played with the little hairs on the back of his neck, slowly threading your fingers through his chocolate brown locks. He lightly bit your lower lip in response. You let out a breathy laugh and playfully tugged on his hair, a groan escaping from his lips as you did so. 

“Mmn S-spence?” You pulled away, earning a frown from him at the loss of contact. 

“Mhm,” he moved your hair out of the way of your neck, and used the opportunity to pepper kisses on it. He quickly found the spot right under your ear, and sucked lightly. You let out a small moan, cursing under your breath. You could feel him smirk against your skin. You winced at his cold hands as they stroked your lower back under your shirt, leaving goosebumps along the way. He knew all of your weaknesses, and he knew them well. 

“Anybody could walk in,” it came out breathy as you struggled to form coherent sentences. A little voice in the back of your head was screaming at you to think with your very capable brain instead of your...but how could you listen with Spencer’s lips on your neck and his hands making their way under your shirt.

“Guess you better be quiet then,” he whispered in your ear, ending his assault on his neck and pulling you back into his lips from under your shirt, kissing you deeply. His tongue lightly swiped against your lips, his way of asking you for entrance. You quickly obliged, and your tongues danced together in motion. His hands roamed all over your body, stroking your back from under your shirt and lightly gripping you through your bra. He moved his hands, reaching under your skirt, his fingers lightly tracing over where you needed him most. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, knowing it was all because of him, assuming you’d been this wet since before you entered the file room, and his assumption was correct. You started to loosen his tie and his fingers lightly traced over the outline of your underwear. He pulled away from your lips, awaiting your okay. You nodded and he reached up to your skirt buckle, desperate to get it off, but instantly pushed back when he heard the doorknob turning. Your heart stopped for a second before you went into profiler mode. You had quick reflexes, it was part of the job, but you weren’t sure if you could fake out anyone else on your team. You turned to face one of the file cabinets, opening it and pretending to look for something, and Spencer did the same, trying to cover the bulge in his pants. 

“Reid I need-” his eyes didn’t even widen, he just stared.

“Oh, hey Hotch,” you desperately tried to sound confident, but your voice cracked just a little bit because you never had a moment to catch your breath. You only turned your head towards him in an effort to hide your body before staring back at the files you knew nothing about.

He looked at you, then back at Spencer, then back at you. You did your best to avoid eye contact, but Hotch maintained it with Reid. Then, a smile broke out on his face. You looked up to see his smile and a huge hearty laugh. You and Spencer looked at each other before looking out at him, completely mindfucked with what was happening. He turned around and walked out, still laughing. 

“What just-” you could barely form words. 

“I have absolutely no idea,” Spencer closed the cabinet in front of him. 

“Okay, now we should definitely go,” you turned back to face Spencer, smiling at his flushed face.

“You go first, I’m gonna need,” he cleared his throat, “a couple seconds,” you looked down at his pants, then nodded, covering your face with your hand in an effort to stifle your laughter, “it’s not funny,” he said with a shit-eating grin, completely contradicting himself.

“Oh it’s very funny....” you giggled. 

“Okay it’s a little funny,” he laughed with you as you adjusted your skirt, trying to look presentable, “You look fine, now go, you being here isn’t exactly helping my...problem,” you giggled even louder at him and leaned in to peck his lips. You gave him a teasing wave as you shut the door behind you. You went back to sit at your desk and Emily raised her eyebrows at you. 

“Hotch walked in,” you whispered as you bit back a laugh.

“No!” She gasped. Right on queue Spencer walked back into the bullpen. You went back to work for a couple seconds, looking up at Spencer every so often and laughing to yourself.

“Y/l/n, Reid, can I see you two in my office,” your eyes snapped up to meet Spencer’s as you stood up. You heard a laugh come from Emily and made a mental note to get back at her later. You and Spencer walked up together, entering Hotch’s office.

“Reid did you ever grab those files I asked for?” He didn’t look up from his desk, still scribbling on some papers. 

“I-I um didn’t get a chance to get those,” it took everything in you to hold in a laugh as Spencer stuttered over his words. 

“Well, if you could grab those in a minute, that would be great,” he looked up to both of you, “and if you could also keep your personal relationship at home that would also be great.” Heat rose to your cheeks.

“Yes Sir,” you nodded.

“That will be all,” he spoke, and you and Spencer made your way to the door, “if one of you could tell Rossi he owes me $20 that would also be great,” you looked back at Hotch, he was smiling as he wrote on his papers. You and Spencer walked out as fast as you could. 

“You should’ve told me there were actual files,” you playfully poked his side, “I thought you were just trying to get me alone.”

“I don’t need to make up a story to get you in bed, Y/n/n,” he shot back, nudging you with his shoulder. 

“Hm okay, we’ll see about that Dr. Reid,” you smiled as you made your way back to your desk. 

#Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds spencer #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #mgg #mgg fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler #spence #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer smut #spencer reid x you #reader insert #spencer imagine #spencer #spencer x reader #criminal minds x reader

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #153: Miyamoto Musashi

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re creating the ultimate wandering swordswoman,  Shinmen Musashi-no-Kami Fujiwara no Harunobu a.k.a. Miyamoto Musashi!

This wandering samurai is an Aberrant Mind Sorcerer to wander from plane to plane and bend the world to her sword-wielding whims with her Empyrean Eye, as well as a Swords Bard, because you actually have to be good with swords too, I guess.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Ask not for whom the bell tolls.

Announcement: Today (May 10, 2021) is also the last day to suggest possible servants for the anniversary build! If you’ve already sent yours in, you’re in the running! If you haven’t, just comment and/or reblog with any Type Moon character you’d like to see a build of and they’ll be added to the list! (One per person tho)

Race and Background

Musashi’s a Human, but popping in and out of reality isn’t that ordinary so we’ll go with the variant rules for this one. Variant Humans get +1 Dexterity and Constitution, as well as one feat and one skill proficiency. Grab the Performance proficiency to turn every duel into a mindfuck, and the Dual Wielder feat to dual wield. More specifically, this gives you +1 AC while dual wielding, you can use non-light weapons to dual-wield, so longswords are totally an option if you can get the proficiency in them. You can also draw or stow two weapons in the same amount of time you’d draw one.

Like your rival Kojirou, you’re also a Mercenary Veteran, giving you proficiency in Athletics and Persuasion.

Ability Scores

You’re really good with a sword, but that comes from technique, not brute force, so make your Dexterity as high as possible. That’ll also help with the fact that you’re clearly not wearing armor. Getting into your opponent’s head metaphorically is almost as important to your fighting style as getting into it literally, so Charisma should be number 2. Your Constitution should be next so you can stomach more bowls of udon in a single go. After that is Wisdom- your Empyrean Eye won’t do anything if you can’t see what you want to cut. Your Strength isn’t bad, we just needed other stuff more, but your Intelligence is kind of wonky. Shifting around the multiverse so much means world history is not your strong suit.

Class Levels

1. Bard 1: Going with bard right off the bat gives you a better hit die to start with, as well as a more forgiving skill list. Since bards can pick any three skills to be proficient with, I’d suggest Acrobatics, Intimidation, and Perception. I don’t know what exactly rattling your swords to provoke people would count as, but now you’ve got intimidation, performance, and persuasion, so it’s probably one of those. You also get proficiency with Dexterity and Charisma saves.

As a bard, you get Bardic Inspiration, a number of d6 equal to your charisma modifier per long rest. You can give one of these dice to your allies as a bonus action, which they can use to improve one of their attack rolls, saves, or checks. 

You can also cast Spells using your Charisma. Vicious Mockery lets you get under the skin of your opponent just like the real Musashi, and Message is a neat lil walkie talkie. I assume Gudako gave you one by this point, it’d be really hard to chat with you otherwise.

You also get first level spells like Disguise Self so you can slap a big ol’ hat on your head and be completely unrecognizable, Heroism to be a hero, Detect Magic because it seems that kind of a baseline power in the nasuverse, and Bane for even more ways to insult your way to victory.

2. Bard 2: Second level bards become a Jack of All Trades, adding half your proficiency to any skill checks you aren’t already proficient in. That extra boost to survival checks will probably come in handy if you get rayshifted to the middle of nowhere again.

You also learn a Song of Rest, letting you and your party kick back a little harder on short rests, regaining an extra 1d6 hp if you use your hit dice.

Finally, you learn the spell Faerie Fire for a cheap and easy way to nullify invisibility. You’ll learn how to see through it eventually, but for now break out the light show.

3. Bard 3: Like I said before, you’re a Swords bard, giving you the Two-Weapon Fighting Style so you can add your dexterity modifier to attacks from both hands. You can also use Blade Flourishes, giving you an extra 10 feet of movement if you attack as your action. Once per turn you can also add one of three options to your attack by burning one use of Bardic Inspiration. Defense Flourish adds the die rolled to your damage and your AC for the round. Slashing Flourish deals the roll in damage to the target and any other creatures you want within 5′ of you. Mobile Flourish pushes the target and deals extra damage to them equal to the roll, and you can use your reaction to follow them.

Your Expertise doubles your proficiency bonus in Performance and Perception, so you can find enemies and goad them into fights easier.

You also learn Locate Object. It’s still not tracking down a creature, but it’s getting closer.

4. Sorcerer 1: Bouncing over to sorcerer now nets you Spells, and boy howdy do Aberrant Mind sorcerers get a lot of spells. By using your Charisma you can cast your normal spells, or your Psionic Spells, bonuses you get at certain levels. Most of those aren’t in-character, but thankfully we can swap them out as we go.

You also learn Telepathic Speech. Using a bonus action, you can speak telepathically with them for as long as you’re within Charisma Modifier miles of each other, for Sorcerer Level minutes.

Starting with your psionic spells, you get Arms of Hadar and Dissonant Whispers, but we swap out Mind Sliver for Friends. Whatever goading someone to fight is, it’s definitely a charisma check, so this will help with that. I mean this also helps since it turns the target hostile after the spell ends, but either way you get a fight.

On top of that, you get all your other spells, like Booming Blade, Blade Ward, Green-Flame Blade, and True Strike to make your swordplay even stronger. (On technicality in True Strike’s case, just attack twice) and Absorb Elements and Mage Armor for magical defenses.

Also, your spell levels do mix, so check the multiclassing table to see how much stuff you got at each level.

5. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic, giving you Sorcery Points equal to your sorcerer level. You can turn spell levels into points or vice versa, but that’ll get more important in a couple levels.

You also learn Shield for more magic defense, and swap out Arms of Hadar for Comprehend Languages. Everyone in FGO speaks english for no reason anyway, so I bet everyone has this spell to begin with.

6. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma modifier for better spells and more inspiration. You also learn the Light cantrip, and Knock. Breaking down a door barely counts as magic, but here we are.

7. Bard 5: Your bardic inspiration dice grows to d8s, and you become a Font of Inspiration, letting you regain inspiration on short rests instead of long ones. You also learn Major Image. It’ll be a while until you can summon a Nioh, at least it’ll look like you can now!

8. Bard 6: Sixth level bards can spend their action on a Countercharm, giving you and your allies advantage on saves against being frightened or charmed. More importantly, you get an Extra Attack with each attack action, which is way better than spending a whole action on some magic nonsense.

Speaking of spending an action to end magic nonsense, you can cast Dispel Magic to cut through magical effects. Raise Dead on permanent contingency is a bitch and a half to get through otherwise.

9. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers learn Metamagic, ways to customize their spells using Sorcery Points. Quickened Spell lets you cast action spells as a bonus action, while Extended Spell doubles the length of time a spell remains active. Both are super useful on your buffs, but you can only have one active per spell.

For your psionic spells, replace Calm Emotions with Mind Spike for a bit of psychic damage and to let you ignore the target creature’s invisibility for up to an hour if it fails a wisdom saving throw. You also always know the target’s location if you’re on the same plane. You also get Detect Thoughts. for now. For your normal spell, Magic Weapon will help you out if your DM’s really stingy with magic items.

10. Sorcerer 4: Your spells are starting to get spicy, so let’s keep things working smoothly by grabbing War Caster this ASI. This feat gives you advantage on concentration saves, and you can cast spells while dual-wielding. On top of that, you can use spells as attacks of opportunity now! They have to be only targeting that one creature though, so Sword Burst and Darkvision won’t be super helpful. 

We’re also replacing detect thoughts with See Invisibility for a saving throw free way to track creatures down.

11. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers can use Magical Guidance to turn a sorcery point into a re-roll on a failed skill check. You also learn Fear to send less interesting opponents running, and the psionic spells Sending to boost your walkie-talkie’s range and Tongues instead of Hunger of Hadar. If you’re going to insult someone they better understand you.

12. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level aberrant minds know Psionic Sorcery, letting you spend sorcery points to cast psionic spells instead of using a spell slot. If you do so, you can ignore verbal or somatic components, as well as unconsumed material components. You also get Psychic Defenses for resistance against psychic damage and advantage against being charmed or frightened. Oh hey, it’s like countercharm but significantly better!

You can also cast Haste now, doubling your actions for up to a minute, as well as giving you advantage on dexterity saves, a +2 to AC and doubled speed. (The second action can only be used to make one attack, but still, free attack.) After the spell ends you can’t move or take actions for a round while you take an udon break to refuel.

13. Sorcerer 7: Seventh level sorcerers can use fourth level spells, like Conjure Barlgura! It’s... kind of like a Nioh, if you squint really hard. Just keep it away from the rest of the party.

You also get more psionic spells with Evards Black Tentacles and Locate Creature instead of Summon Aberration. 

14. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to finally bump up your Dexterity for a stronger AC and better attacks. You also gain Banishment to cut someone out of this plane of reality. (It’s temporary if they’re actually from whatever reality you’re currently in, but still.)

15. Sorcerer 9: Use your fifth level spell Skill Empowerment to make getting to your target even easier. Need to be really good at acrobatics to reach somebody? Sure, why not. You also get your last psionic spells, Rary’s Telepathic Bond for a long-term walkie-talkie, and Hold Monster in place of Telekinesis. Cutting things is so much easier when they stand still.

16. Sorcerer 10: Tenth level sorcerers get another Metamagic option. Heightened Spell gives a creature disadvantage on their first save against a spell, like Create Bonfire and Charm Monster. I’ll be honest there’s not a lot of fifth level spells that work for you, but you’re both cute and able to start fires, so I guess it works out.

17. Sorcerer 11: Eleventh level sorcerers gain a sixth level spell, and True Seeing lets you ignore any illusions, invisibility, or shapechangers you can see on your path to true swordsmanship, automatically making any saves against their deceptions.

18. Sorcerer 12: Use your last ASI to max out Dexterity for the swordiest swords and the least swordiest body possible.

19. Sorcerer 13: At the penultimate level we finally get our seventh level spell that we’ve been working so hard to reach- Plane Shift. You and up to eight creatures can move to a different plane of existence. Alternatively, you can make a spell attack against a creature, and if it hits and they fail a charisma save they have to find their way back from wherever the hell you sent them.

20. Sorcerer 14: Your capstone level makes you a Revelation in Flesh, spending a bonus action to transform yourself for up to 10 minutes. You can spend 1-4 sorcery points to activate one to four benefits: You can see invisible creatures, fly, swim and breathe underwater, or pass through inch wide gaps and escape restraints easily. Most of those...probably aren’t canon, but at least you get invisibility sight without using concentration.

Pros:

You come packing plenty of magic defenses, with a great dexterity save, advantage on mind altering effects, and the ability to tear down an enemy’s magical traps.

Seeing through invisibility and plenty of location spells makes you hard to escape, especially when you factor in plane shift to the mix. Those Empyrean Eyes aren’t just there for decoration, y’know.

Your psionic sorcery and multitude of telepathic abilities mean you can get a lot done while completely silent, which helps a lot on stealth missions. Your maxed out dexterity and JoAT certainly doesn’t hurt either.

Cons:

Gishes live and die on their concentration saves, and not starting with Sorcerer definitely hurt yours a lot. Even with advantage you’ve only got a +2 modifier. That’s going to drop spells more often than not.

Taking so many levels of sorcerer also leaves you with low hp, barely scratching past 100 by the end of the build. Your AC is very good, but when you get hit you’re going to feel it.

Focusing on dexterity and feats leaves you with a low charisma, at least by bard standards. This means you don’t have a lot of flourishes to work with, and your spells aren’t as strong as they could be. Your buffs and protection don’t really care about charisma though, so most of your kit isn’t that badly hurt from it.

#Fate Grand Order #FGO #Miyamoto Musashi #D&D 5e #DND #Sorcerer #Bard

[puckmeupfam]

The Right to Be Jealous | Jake Virtanen

Word Count: 3177 Note: Friends with benefits to lovers with the one and only. I feel like everything I write is same ice cream different cone, but I like to give the people what I want.

Sitting in the shadowed booth, your nails dug into the faux leather upholstery. Everyone else was out dancing and laughing loudly on the sticky floor. They were relaxed, blowing off steam, singing along to the ‘00s pop throwback that was blasting. You just stayed glaring daggers at your vodka cran that had slowly become watered down by the ice, shedding a puddle of condensation. There was one other member of the Canucks posse who was not on the dance floor: Jake was standing with his elbow on the bar while his eyes were on the woman perched on the barstool. In your desperation, you had even tried that body language deciphering trick of looking at his feet just to find them pointed towards her as well. 

Jake was free to do whatever he wants, you told yourself, you have no hold over him. The two of you met shortly after you moved to Vancouver for school. At first, you were friends but nothing more. Yes, you found each other attractive, that was clear. But you were much more compatible at making sarcastic jokes and counseling each other through life’s daily mindfucks than anything else. Then, Jake started inviting you as his plus one to events and parties, he had found that everyone had a tendency to pair off at those events and he wasn’t a fan of not having anyone’s attention. That’s how it started, him shushing you because you were incapable of keeping your voice down and you saving him whenever he got caught in a boring, bureaucratic conversation. 

And that’s how it went until last year’s Halloween party.

You both drank more than usual. And maybe the catalyst was him placing his hand on your bare thigh where the costume had ridden up. Or maybe it was you lamenting about how long it had been since you had gotten laid. But probably it was him tying a knot in that damn cherry stem. No matter how it happened, you found yourself being pulled by the wrist down the hallway of his building. Both of you drunk and giggly. When you stepped into his apartment, he spun you around so your back was flush against the cold door. He spent a minute staring down at you, not laughing anymore. You let yourself get lost in his bright eyes that kept flickering to your lips. Without even realizing it you brought your hand up to his face and stroked your thumb along the apple of his cheek. Suddenly he leaned down and kissed you, hard. The hand on his face went to wrap around his neck while the one previously at your side ended up tangled in his hair. You tasted booze and hints of sweet grape from jello shots as he licked your lip. When you opened your mouth there was something else on his tongue which you classified as “fuck-why-have-we-been-doing-anything-but-this.” No matter what the catalyst was you were gone.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and messy hair. On your right, Jake was sprawled on his stomach with one tattooed arm thrown over your hip. As you started to shift he groaned and tightened his hold on you. Reaching over to scratch your nails against his scalp, you spoke in a scratchy voice, “I’m just getting coffee, you big baby.” When you came back with the mugs full of steaming liquid, Jake’s with an extra splash of cream, you both sat against the headboards quietly. Minutes passed but it was Jake who broke the silence, “(Y/N), you know, I’m so sorry,” he said in a nervous jumble. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn’t that. 

“I just really, really don’t want to fuck us up. You’re so important to me and I just can’t not talk to you every day. It’s not something I can live with,” he continued. When you peered over at him he wasn’t looking back at you but rather locking his eyes on a chip on his mug that he worried with his thumb. Your chest felt tight and your chin wobbled a bit. If Jake was trying not to ruin your friendship then you would have to try too. So you steeled your emotions and forced your hands not to shake as you brought the mug to your lips.

And that was that. 

Until the holiday party. Where the same thing happened, except the next morning he didn’t say anything. Instead, when you moved to get coffee he held your wrist back and insisted he take you out to a diner. While you would really rather him not tell you that last night was a mistake in front of witnesses, you still threw on a hoodie and did your best to tame your hair though you didn’t bother attempting anything for the dark circles under your eyes. The surprising part was that when you got to the diner he didn’t say anything about the night prior. He even went so far as to order for you before you could even open your mouth. Caramel french toast with strawberries and powdered sugar. And when the food came to your table, he even went so far as to nudge the syrup in your direction. 

He never brought it up. And he didn’t the next day. Or the next. But then he pulled you into a corner at Bo’s New Year’s Eve party, planting his lips on yours until you found yourself slipping out the door with him with over thirty minutes remaining until midnight. Whether you liked it or not once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, three was a pattern, and after that… Well, you had simply stopped counting once you got to eleven. Stopped trying to make sense of it. Just went with it.

You’re broken from your memories by Troy and Emma coming back to the table to get their things. With the night winding down and your group dispersing, some realities occurred to you. Jake had picked you up at your apartment earlier in the evening and both of you had planned that he would take you home at the end of the night. Apparently, he had forgotten. Or maybe he just didn’t care. You weren’t sure which was worse: being thrown to the side for a blonde at the bar or being such a blip on your best friend’s radar that he would totally forget about your existence.

“Hey, would you guys be able to give me a ride home by any chance?” you asked, drawing their attention to you. The couple shared a look before nodding along. You grabbed your bag and jacket before scurrying out of the booth and following behind them, not sparing Jake a glance. Slipping into the backseat of Troy’s car, you reminded him of your address. They had the radio turned up lowly so you could vaguely hear the tune but not quite catch the lyrics. You looked at your phone for a few moments before Emma spoke. 

“Didn’t Jake drive you?” You held in a sigh at her loaded question. While you had never spoken about your situation with Jake to anyone, not even Jake himself, you knew other people noticed that there was something going on between the two of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly cautious, nothing you and Jake did was well thought out, the two of you had surely drunkenly made out in too bright of a corner or stumbled out the door a bit too loudly. And everyone had likely discussed whatever the two of you were doing after you left. And Jake might have even talked about your situation during late-night card games on roadies. And… You snapped yourself out of the weird self-analyzing pity show to answer Emma and save yourself from hyperventilating in your friends’ car.

“He did,” you began, “but he was… busy, and I didn’t want to get in his way.” You were sitting behind Emma so you had a much better view of Troy as he reacted to your answer. He squinted before looking over at his girlfriend with a raised brow. Emma’s only response was a mumbled, “Oh.” 

As Troy pulled up in front of your building, you were glad that they didn’t push further. You thanked them profusely for the ride before jumping out and speed walking into your apartment. You closed and locked the door as soon as you got in before pouring yourself a glass of water. One glance at your phone showed that you had many texts waiting for you and one flash of Jake’s name had you powering the device all the way off and plugging it in. You wiped your makeup off and rubbed in your favorite rich moisturizer. Even though it was still fairly early, you felt exhausted with emotions that you shouldn’t have. Nevertheless, you took a melatonin gummy for good measure and brushed your teeth before encasing yourself in blankets and waiting for sleep.

When you woke up to the morning sun on your face, you got up purposefully avoiding your phone. After drinking a cup of coffee you decided to cook a healthy breakfast. Maybe if you detoxed your body a bit it would help to detox Jake from your mind. When you were finished you sat at the counter. You couldn’t stop flashing through every moment with Jake, looking for hidden meanings in his actions and replaying his words to search for anything valuable. It was like you couldn’t stop yourself from relishing in the emotional pain. You weren’t sure how much time passed before you tasted metal and realized you had been chewing up your lip in thought. 

This simply wouldn’t work. No more wallowing, you decided. Cleaning up the pans and dishes you had used with a bit more elbow grease than you would typically use you shoved everything back in its typical place. You stopped yourself for a minute as something occurred to you. While you wished it had been an epiphany about moving on or signing up for online dating, you realized that your kitchen organization was completely lacking. Your pots were nowhere near your stove. Your cups weren’t close enough to your sink. Your pantry was a disaster.

Without any hesitation, you started pulling everything out of the cabinets. Before you knew it your counters were covered in plates, glasses, mugs, pans, and a rice cooker. You had just started alphabetizing your spices when you heard a knock on your door. With a loud groan, you ran to the door and swung it open without even looking through the peephole. Standing in the hallway was none other than Jake Virtanen. You stilled your frenzied movements to just stare at him. His eyes were sharp as they studied your face. 

“Can I come in,” you barely heard his words but they somehow woke you up and you opened the door wider before spinning around and racing back into your kitchen. Your heart pounded wildly as you went back to work. Nerves coursed through your veins so you weren’t being productive but rather picking up an item and setting it down in a slightly different place. The sound of Jake’s footsteps followed you and you could feel him hovering.

“Um… (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Jake?”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He paused for a minute to watch you scramble around like a chicken with its head cut off.

“I honestly have no idea.” You huffed and forced your hands to still on the counter top.

“I’m organizing my kitchen.” You forced your face into an expression that could be read as ‘duh’ but given your flushed cheeks and wild eyes, it didn’t seem to translate. 

“Can we talk about what happened last night,” Jake asked. While you hadn’t assumed this was a typical social visit, his question reignited your panic and you resumed your pottering around the kitchen. At first, Jake just seemed bewildered but after a loud clang erupted from two pots you were moving from one side of the counter to the other his eyebrows furrowed into a scowl and he snapped, “(Y/N), do you mind?” 

You threw up your hands and turned to him as he continued, “I want to talk to you and have you actually listen like a normal person instead of doing… whatever it is that you’re doing over there.”

“Talk about what,” you asked, partially trying to buy time and partially trying to seem blase.

“About last night.”

“Nothing happened last night, Jake.”

“I watched you leave with Troy and Emma. You just left, (Y/N).”

“So? You were busy, I wanted to go home.” Without you even realizing it, Jake was taking steps towards you until you glanced up from the floor to find him right in front of you. He reached out his hand to hold your arm. Whether he was trying to comfort you or prevent you from escaping you weren’t sure. The spot where his skin met yours sent tingles down your spine that you forced yourself not to react to.

“When you left, I called Troy,” he said. Now this was news to you. Before you could interject Jake spoke again, “I had been trying to text and call you but you weren’t answering so I finally called Troy. He said you left without me because of that girl.” You tried to pull away but his hand around your arm tightened.

“You were jealous,” Jake said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. You glared at him, you couldn’t believe that he would come to your apartment just to embarrass you about your feelings for him.

“I wasn’t jealous. I have no right to be jealous about what or who you do,” you snapped. He threw his head back and sighed.

“That’s the fucking point, (Y/N). I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

Your heart stopped. Your mind stopped. You looked up at him just to see his eyes boring into yours. 

“What,” you asked hazily.

“You heard me. I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

“B-but what does that mean?”

“It means… I love you, okay? I love you and I want to be with you and I want you to be jealous even though you don’t ever have to be. Because you’re the only one I see in a crowded room. Because every time we go to a wedding I imagine it’s us standing up there in front of our friends and family. Because I can’t fucking stand being away from you. Because you’re the most important person in my life,” he said emphatically, vehemently. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), I love you,” he said with a smile on his face. This all felt so confusing and so surreal and you wanted to pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real life. In real life, Jake was the one who decided that the two of you were friends with benefits. Jake was the one who didn’t want to take it any further. Jake was the one who talked with girls at bars.

“Since when,” you murmured. Jake’s smile only brightened.

“Since always,” he told you.

“But, Jake, you said you didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You never seemed like you wanted to take us any further, where is this coming from?” At your words, Jake released your arm and rubbed his palm along his face. The tables turned and now he was the one pacing through your kitchen.

“I thought you wanted that. I thought you were going to tell me that it was all a mistake, that you didn’t really like me.” His words made your stomach squeeze and it felt like you had been slapped in the face. As much as you wished you could wrap your arms around him and kiss him madly, telling him that of course you wouldn’t do that. Because he was Jake and you were you and that would never be a mistake. But you knew that if you fell into him now you wouldn’t get clarity, so you pushed on. “Then what have we been doing? If you were so scared, if you really felt that way, why did we keep happening?” 

Jake stopped his pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets. He refused to look at you, trailing his eyes along the mess in your kitchen and the pictures on your fridge before settling on the floor.

“I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I thought that if that was all I could have with you it would still be better than nothing,” his words were quiet but you still heard him. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and you opened your mouth to speak before Jake interrupted you.

“But then I called Troy last night asking where you were, what happened to you… and he said that you liked me too and I needed to snap out of whatever I was doing and man up,” he brought his eyes up to yours, “he said he was sick of me whining about you like a lovesick puppy and that I needed to, quote, go get my girl.”

His eyes read nothing but love and sincerity. You trusted and believed him. You didn’t want to stumble around your feelings anymore so you stepped forward until you were chest to chest.

“I love you too, Jake,” you said drawing your hand up to his neck. His face erupted into a smile, but instead of leaning in to kiss you, he spoke.

“Do you want to do this thing with me?” Your responding laugh was watery but he waited for your response.

“What? Being in love?”

“Well, yes, that’s pretty important. But I meant being in a real relationship. Y’know? Hold hands in public, change our relationship statuses on Facebook, the whole deal.”

“You don’t even use Facebook,” you teased. He groaned dramatically but the smile seemed to be glued to his face.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “do you want to do this thing with me?”

Jake’s eyes sparkled and you bit your lip. You didn’t deign his question with a response, just brought the hand that rested on his neck down so you could capture his lips in a kiss. For a few blissful moments, it was just you and him. You arched your back to press yourself more fully against him as he planted one hand on your hip as the other snaked up your back. As he moved to press scorching hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat he broke the silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You pulled on his hair until his mouth was back against yours and you whispered against his lips an answering yes.

And if Troy Stecher whistled and hooted an “I told you so,” when you and Jake showed up to the next Canucks gathering, hands tightly intertwined… well, would he be wrong?

#jake virtanen #jake virtanen imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fic #vancouver canucks imagine #j.virtanen

[willowbird]

Twinyards - Hello ( Daemons AU)

Okay so here is going to be my one and only entry for @twinyardsappreciationweek -- not because I didn't want to!! I just.. life happened and so I only actually got the first one done and then I went back and forth about posting it for several days because my anxiety is off the charts this week (huh I wonder why??)

So ANYWAY! This is my "Hellos", a first meeting between Aaron and Andrew in an AU that takes what I like about His Dark Materials and ignores what I've forgotten about it because I honestly haven't read the books in 15 years. Please forgive me for making up the rules as I go along. You do not need to be familiar with The Golden Compass/Northern Lights/His Dark Materials in order to understand or enjoy this AU because.. well, like I just said, I kinda kept the "soul animal" bit and decided to make up the rules for the rest as I went along. Feel free to ping me in messages or send me an ask if you have any questions.

------

“You’re biting your nails all the way down again.” Stella’s voice was quiet in Aaron’s ear. She was currently balanced on his shoulder where she could see the whole room while also being well out of trampling-range of larger daemons and their people.

“No I’m not,” he grumbled, but snatched his fingers away from his mouth because yes - he was. “And don’t hedgehogs have terrible eyesight? How would you even know?”

Stella huffed, and the small snap of her breath tickled his ear, making him twitch. “I don’t know where you heard that, but I can see just fine, thank you very much.”

“If you say so,” Aaron relented -- not because he actually believed her but because he was too distracted to engage in their usual bickering. There was nothing interesting about the room they were sitting in. It was empty of anyone besides him and his uncle and their daemons, neither of which were very large, and was painted a pale blue offset by a dark gray shallow carpet that made Aaron feel like he was sitting in the waiting room of a dentist’s office rather than a juvenile detention center. Still, despite the general blandness of their surroundings, Aaron’s mind was busy.

After all, today he was going to be meeting his brother. His long-lost brother. His long-lost twin brother.

Yeah, mindfuck right?

Twice already his uncle had shot him a look for the way his knee kept bouncing with jittery nerves, but it’s not like he could help it. It just wasn’t every day that you found out that you had a long-lost twin. That you got to meet that long-lost twin, especially after they’d initially told you to piss off.

Well, more or less.

Andrew’s letter back to him had been more like, Aaron, back the fuck off. Stay far the fuck away until you hear from me. I’m fucking serious. -- A.

No, really. That’s exactly what it said. Aaron had read it so many times that he’d memorized it, first because he couldn’t believe that he’d gotten a letter back, then because he couldn’t believe his brother was such an unrepentant asshole, and then because he couldn’t help but notice that they both wrote their lower-case ‘a’s the exact same way.

That was almost two months ago. Mom had absolutely freaked out and moved them across the damn country within a couple of weeks of the whole ‘Andrew Situation’ coming to light, and if it had been up to her Aaron definitely wouldn’t be here now. Except Uncle Luther, for all that he was a gigantic flaming dickhead, wasn’t quite as willing to let it go. Then, last week, he’d gotten a letter back from Andrew. All it had was an address to a juvenile detention center.

And so here he was, ready to meet his twin brother, and he felt so many things about it that he didn’t even know how he was really feeling.

“Luther Hemmick and Aaron Minyard?”

Aaron jumped at the voice and looked over at the stout man who had just entered the room. He wore a white coat like some kind of doctor and looked weirdly buff for also being old and balding.

Beside him, his uncle stood up, his pomeranian daemon trotting out from where she’d been curled under his chair. Aaron scooped Stella off his shoulder and returned her to her preferred nest inside the pocket of his hoodie as he joined his uncle. He tried to mimic his uncle’s superior sort of calm as he trailed after the two men, passing through the security door and down the narrow tiled hallway into what looked like some kind of common room.

Aaron had expected it to look like the rooms inmates talked to their families on tv, with two-way glass and phones so that you could talk to the person on the other side. He’d expected a lot of cold steel and white stone walls, with all the kids in matching gray jumpsuits or something.

Instead, they were in what looked like a giant living room. There were several couches and tables, a television with a few different video game systems, and a tall shelving unit filled with board games. There were teenagers lounging on the couches or at the tables, one or two of them apparently also visiting with family. Aaron didn’t spend all that much time scoping out the other kids, though, because on his first scan of the room his gaze settled on a blond boy sitting in the bay window with a fucking lion stretched out on the floor beside him, a living, breathing, tooth-filled barrier between him and the rest of the room.

Andrew.

Their little party had stopped just inside the door and Aaron was distantly aware of the warden or the principal or the doctor or whatever the fuck he was telling Uncle Luther about the facility. He couldn’t focus on them enough to actually retain the specifics though, not when he saw Andrew.

It was so… so fucking weird. He was there. Right fucking there. His brother, and they were identical. Okay, so, not completely identical. Andrew’s hair was longer than his own, and since the kids here were apparently allowed to wear street clothes he was wearing black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt (which was neither a gray jumpsuit nor anything that Aaron would typically wear -- he preferred normal jeans and band t-shirts, thanks). There was also something… colder about him that Aaron didn’t know how to feel about but definitely seemed to match the two brief letters he’d gotten from him.

The lion lifted her head and looked right at him, fixing him with an eerie amber stare he felt both trapped and analyzed by. It was not comfortable and it took all of his willpower not to squirm. As it were, he ended up fully flinching when their guide called out a bit too loudly from a bit too close to him.

"Andrew! Come say hello, your family is here to see you."

Andrew, who up until this point had been reading a book like he hadn't known they were there at all, just… continued to read. He didn't look up, didn't even seem like he'd heard him at all.

The man sighed and gave them an apologetic look. "Sorry, he's, well. He's a bit antisocial."

"Hm." The disapproving sound from Uncle Luther had Aaron glancing over at him and he didn't really like the calculating look on his face. It would be utter bullshit if he finally got a brother only for his uncle to make it so he ended up getting shipped off to military school or something.

Rather than wait around for the adults to come up with some stupid way to attempt to make Andrew bow to their will, Aaron rubbed his thumb reassuringly over Stella's head where she was huddled in his pocket and strode forward with far more confidence than he actually felt. He stopped several feet in front of the lioness and tried not to be intimidated by her. Logically he knew that she wasn't a fully grown lion yet, that she was an adolescent to match her human's age, but Aaron had always been uneasy around daemons who had settled into big predators. Maybe it was because his own daemon was so small and he was protective of her -- or maybe it was some deeper instinct he wasn't ready or able to interpret yet. Either way, he ended up having to keep both hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. He couldn't steady both them and his voice at the same time, and he needed his voice to be steady.

"Hey,” he said -- and yes, his voice for that whole one word was very steady. Maybe even casual. Fuck yeah.

The lion, who had watched him throughout his entire approach, flicked her ears -- but he had no idea what emotion that was supposed to be.

For a moment, Aaron thought that was all he was going to get. Then he saw Andrew sigh and resolutely dog-ear the page he was on before closing the book and setting it down on the windowsill. He looked over at him, just with a flick of his eyes at first and then by turning his head. Aaron kept perfectly still and had the distinct impression he was being judged or evaluated somehow. It was really uncomfortable and also kind of annoying, but the hard stare of the other boy matched that of the lioness a bit too closely for Aaron to be willing to call him out on it just yet.

Instead, he waited, and he used the opportunity to look at his brother too. He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, he just wanted to know him. He wanted to know what his life had been like and his favorite music. He wanted to know if he and his daemon had played the same sort of ‘what if’ games that he and Stella had growing up. He wanted to know if Andrew had always wished for a brother too, and if he’d grown up feeling like something was missing only to feel all the pieces click into place the second he found out that he had a twin. None of these were things he’d be able to learn just by looking at him, but looking was a start -- and it could tell him other things.

For one thing, he could tell that Andrew liked to read, right? There was the book he’d been reading -- it had been a thick one and he’d seemed really into reading it. He clearly didn’t like adults, since he’d ignored the big guy when he’d called out to him (though really, Aaron figured anyone in juvie probably didn’t like adults). He liked the color black..?

Look, it was a start.

Somehow, Aaron got the feeling that Andrew was able to read more on him than he was able to read on Andrew; or maybe that was just his own frustration at being able to pick out so little. Either way, it was irritating when Andrew nodded a few moments later like he’d made some sort of decision or something. Andrew looked past him then to where Uncle Luther was still speaking with the guy in charge and the casual coolness hardened into something icy with disdain.

Aaron frowned and looked over his shoulder to follow his gaze, but didn’t see anything weird. He looked back at Andrew and said, “So, I’m Aaron…”

Andrew looked at him again, his expression a blank mask. “Clearly.”

Aaron’s temper arrived unannounced and uninvited, but that wasn’t altogether that strange. “I thought you wanted me to come. Isn’t that why you sent the address? If you’re just going to be a big dick about it you could have saved us both the trouble.” He snapped the words out without repent, lifting his chin and glaring down at his brother before he remembered there was a lion between them with sharp teeth and man-shredding claws.

Neither Andrew nor his lioness daemon seemed offended by his little outburst, though. If anything, Andrew looked amused. His mouth quirked a little on the side, almost like a smile -- or like, maybe he had an itch or something.

“Where’s your daemon?” he asked then, familiar-but-not hazel eyes scanning the immediate area then glancing backward toward the window. Most buildings were designed for the ease of use for both humans and their daemons, but some larger daemons preferred to stay outside but close-by rather than squeezing into tighter quarters. Larger daemons also tended to have a larger range away from their person, as well. Aaron wasn’t sure how far he could get from Stella. He honestly didn’t like the idea of her not being physically on him most of the time, so he was glad she was small enough to do so.

Aaron cupped his hand in his pocket and she cuddled into it so he could pull her out.

Andrew looked at her, then to him. “She’s cute.”

From most people, that would probably be some kind of an insult, but Aaron got the very weird sense that Andrew was being genuine. It threw him off enough that he just blinked stupidly for a moment before saying, “Uh… thanks. Yeah, she is.”

Instead of responding, Andrew stood up and strode past him. Aaron quickly stepped out of the way as the lioness rose fluidly to move with him.

“And where do you think you’re going, Andrew?” the big guy who’d showed them in said with a false lightness.

“Outside.” He looked over his shoulder then, and Aaron realized a half a second before Andrew continued speaking that he was being invited along. “My brother and I have about fourteen years of catching up to do.”

Aaron’s heart did a traitorous little leap in his chest. He looked down at where he was still holding Stella up in an open palm. She gave him an encouraging nuzzle and Aaron hid a grin as he hurried to follow his brother. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen from here on out -- but he was suddenly sure that no matter what, he and Stella wouldn’t be alone anymore.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #my writing #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #his dark materials au #daemon au #twinyards #wholesome twinyards #hellos #look its an au where things turn out very different and i have a lot of feelings about it ok?? #twinyardsappreciationweek

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

I wouldn't mind that post on VNs!

So I was gonna write three different lists, but then after writing the first part I realized this is very long and takes a while to write and nobody cares anyway so I’ll just post my recommended list only. Well, I mean, you asked, but I doubt you wanted all this lol. Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this stuff, though. Hope you enjoy my ramblings!

An explanation for what this list is: Sometimes I know a game isn't perfect in many aspects but I still had a genuinely good time playing it, hence why I'm recommending it. Also I should mention that I could talk for hours about some of these games so if anyone’s curious about more of my thoughts, let me know.

Alright, now that that's out of the way ...

How to Take Off Your Mask / How to Fool a Liar King / How to Sing to Open Your Heart (f/m): This is a trilogy of smaller, single-RO games where you can take one of two routes depending on how you act, and they’re all interconnected where you get to meet and interact with the previous games’ characters in the sequel games. I went into this expecting very little but what I got blew me away with how funny, charming and cute the games were. They don’t take themselves too seriously, at one point an angsty male character monologues deeply about some shit, and another one just slides into frame and starts mocking him. It was so fucking funny, holy shit. Also, a central theme is literally racism against catgirls? Which is monumentally stupid, and probably the games’ main flaw, especially in the final game where it pairs up a catgirl with a catgirl racist, but that one still ends with a literal bisexual queen literally making a man her malewife because she fell in love with his cooking, so like ... It speaks for itself. My favorite game of the three is the second one, where you get to play a punchy fake catgirl and romance a pink-haired prince. And honestly, all the female protags in these games are lovely and a breath of fresh air, and the male characters are fun and not abusive assholes either. There’s full Japanese voice acting, and two out of three female protags are literal catgirls who pepper in “nya” and “mya” into their dialogue, and it’s just treated as a quirk of their catgirl race. I AM NOT KIDDING. Yet somehow it never comes off as cringe, because it doesn’t take it self too seriously. These games are just cozy. That’s the only way I can describe them. Cozy and hilarious. Play them yesterday. Dream Daddy (m/m): Man tumblr did this game dirty. This is just a cute, wholesome daddy dating simulator with gorgeous art. Coming out on Top (m/m): So you know Dream Daddy? What if it was EXTREMELY, MAJORLY NSFW? Though I realize how bad the comparison really is, the only thing these games have in common is that they’re gay dating sims and don’t have an anime art style and oh, yeah, they’re both really well-written. Or at least, extremely funny. COOT (heh) is DDADDS’ horny older cousin, and I first encountered the game on a lesbian letsplayer’s YouTube channel. Yes I watched a lesbian play a gay porn game and it was GOOD. I was there for the cringe and fun and got surprised by how genuinely funny and sometimes actually touching the game was. I can’t give it my universal endorsement because it’s not a game for everyone, as I said, it’s extremely NSFW and the menu theme literally includes the singers screaming “SEX SEX” at the top of their lungs. There’s more to this game than the porn, but there’s just so much porn. It can be censored in the settings but it’s unavoidable. However, I still think it’s worth a look just because of how funny it is and how charming the characters are. If you don’t want to play it yourself, at least watch Anima’s playthrough of it. It hasn’t aged super well in some spots but I still go back to it every now and then. Akash: Path of the Five (f/m): This game markets itself as a more “professionally produced” western dating sim, and that’s accurate in some superficial aspects. The game is pretty poorly written, but it’s absolutely gorgeous and has really good English voice acting by actual professional voice actors. The premise is quite self-indulgent, but I genuinely respect that about it. You play as the only female elemental in a village with only men, and all five of your classmates want a piece of you. It’s clear the writers have put some thought into the lore and worldbuilding of this world, but barely any of it comes through in the actual writing and plot, which is basically just a vehicle for you to get together with your boy of choice. The ROs aren’t very well-developed either, and the plot is the same in every route with only minor variations depending on which guy you pick, up to the point where the protag has the same voice lines in some parts regardless of which guy she’s talking about. It also has one extra half-route that’s so bad and pointless I genuinely wonder why they wasted resources on making it instead of spending a bit more on the writing/adding some variations to the main plot. So why am I recommending this game? Well, it’s pretty, and it sounds nice. This game is a himbo, gorgeous but dumb as rocks. Enjoy it for what it is. I know I did. Get it when it’s on sale, I think if I hadn’t gotten it at half-price I would’ve felt a bit more cranky about it. Also Rocco is bae. Mystic Destinies: Serendipity of Aeons (f/m): Yes that’s the full title, no I don’t know what it means either. You may have noticed how most of the games so far I’ve enjoyed because they don’t take themselves too seriously? Well, this one does. It takes itself SO FUCKING SERIOUSLY. Like, way too seriously. It’s a little embarrassing at points because baby, you’re an urban fantasy dating sim. Calm down. But the game has gorgeous art and 3 out of 5 routes are very good. The last route, the one with your teacher, is both the most problematic yet somehow the one that breaks down the very concept of a dating sim within its own narrative (yes, this shit gets fucking META) and it got so wild at the end that 1) I still listen to the soundtrack for that route and 2) I still remember it to this day despite finishing it ages ago. My favorite route is Shou, he’s a sweetheart, but the mindfuck route is so buckwild that I think the game is worth playing just for that. There’s also a route that’s like a neo-noir mystery? I Do Not Know. This game is many, many things and it does them so sincerely and tries so hard, you can’t help but respect it. It doesn’t always stick the landing but man, just let this thing take your hand and wax poetic at you for a bit. Also get this one at a sale because it’s very expensive to get the full version. I got it for 9 bucks on itch.io and I felt that was a fair enough price, I’d say I wouldn’t have minded paying more for it because there’s a lot of content to enjoy and/or be baffled by. Arcade Spirits: This one’s a bit more weird from what I recall, and I honestly couldn’t tell you much about it, but I remember having a very good time with it and recommending it to a friend when she was going through some tough times and she said it made her feel better. I remember it making me feel better, as well. This is a VN about an arcade and the ROs are wonderfully diverse, with very real human conflicts that get explored in each of their routes. It can get quite existential and heavy at times, but in the end it’s a kindhearted game that I think everyone can enjoy. The main character was also, how you say, mood. It’s a game about getting possessed by a video game and then learning self-love. Ebon Light (f/m): This one’s free/name your own price on itch.io so go play it. It’s a weird plot where you play as a girl who ate an elven relic? And then the elves kidnap you because you’re the relic now. All the ROs are extremely pasty (like, literally white, as in literally the color white) dark-haired elves, except for one, who’s an extremely pasty blond elf, so ... diversity? I honestly don’t know what this game is aside from unique. I used to be a bit put off by the art style but now I think it contributes to the general atmosphere. It’s a weird game that technically doesn’t do anything groundbreaking but still left an impression of “huh. weird” in my mind and I think more people should play it. The ROs are all pretty generic dating sim archetypes but done well, with bonus points to Duliae who’s just a massive creep and I love him, and also Vadeyn who’s the only bitch in this house I respect. The worldbuilding is honestly a bit buckwild and I can’t give enough credit for how unique the elves’ culture is in this game. Definitely give it a go. Hakuoki: Kyoto Winds / Hakuoki: Edo Blossoms (f/m): These two are newer releases of an older Japanese visual novel. I wouldn’t call it a dating sim, it’s ... it’s more of a super depressing historical fantasy epic with some minor romance aspects awkwardly wedged in. It’s seriously some of the heaviest and most grimdark shit I’ve ever played in a VN/otome. I don’t understand why it’s a dating sim, it doesn’t read like one, it’s just historical fantasy based on real world events with characters based on real people, and they kill and they die and they grieve and they suffer. The games are literally about the downfall of the Shinsengumi, there’s no way of avoiding everything going to shit and you get to watch and be in the middle of it all as they struggle to stay alive and relevant in a world that doesn’t need them anymore. And there’s the protag in the middle of it all, being useless and submissive and bland just the way the usual otome protag is. I don’t think these games are necessarily fun, and the romance is certainly a lot more downplayed and deeply problematic just based on the age differences alone with some of the men, but the sheer amount of horror and sadness in these games make them stand out above its peers. It’s like watching a war movie. Since most of the characters are based on real people, they feel like real people instead of the usual otome archetypes, and they are so, SO flawed, it’s interesting to just watch them deal with the shit the world throws at them. It’s an Experience, and if you’re up for it, I think it’s worth the time. Cinderella Phenomenon (f/m): This game is free on Steam so go get it. You play as a really, genuinely shitty princess who gets cursed to be poor and forgotten and she has to help one of the ROs break his fairy tale curse so that she can learn about being a good person herself and return to her normal life. This game doesn’t look like much, but it has a genuinely well-written main character who’s actually at the center of each of the stories and in the overarching plot instead of just being around to make eyes at the real protagonists, aka the love interests. Aside from the main character, my favorite part of this game’s writing is how each route slowly but very smoothly expands upon the overarching intrigue. If you play them in a certain order, you get more and more info revealed to you that you didn’t see in other routes, gaps are filled in as you find out more about what actually happened and why, but every route also stands on its own as a full experience and none is more canon than the rest. There’s also some really heavy emotional parental abuse explored, which I found quite potent at times. The romances themselves were alright, I think Karma and Waltz were my faves.

#eff plays

[lassieposting]

Hey, I saw you did a hc thing for Scaracen/Dexter and I was wondering if you could do one for Ghastly/Skulduggery?? (I love the pairing but there is no content and it makes me sad) Hope you are having a good time :)

I genuinely thought I had done this for ghasdug but apparently not? I can't find it anyway

There is content in my ghasdug tag but tbh in my experience the ghasdug shippers are on discord mostly...hit me up

ANYWAY

So. Ghasdug. Ghastly wants skug from the start.

They're 16 when they meet. Ghastly gets a bit seasick and doesn't really want to go anywhere by ship, but his mama tells him he needs to, there's something important for him on that ship, that one right there, and he trusts her enough to know that she's clearly foreseen something and to just go with it.

By the time they get back to shore, he's already thinking, it's you. I was supposed to meet you.

They head back to Dublin together. Ghastly's mama takes one look at this awkward, skinny, skittish child and decides she's adopting him, and skug moves into their farmhouse and is subsequently freaked the fuck out by his very first experience of A Loving Family. Ghastly's mother like, hugs him and reminds him to wear a coat and clips his ear for swearing and makes sure he eats breakfast. He is semiferal and not used to any of this.

For a few months they settle into a comfortable routine:

- Ghastly's father spends the week making clothes, then does commission deliveries one day and takes hats and boots and suchlike to the market the next.

- Ghastly's mother has a job as a barmaid, where she gets to regularly crack some skulls and socialise, which is great for her because she is both a short-n-stocky powerhouse and a giant extrovert.

- The boys spend most of their time together, and they're supposed to do the bulk of the chores. It's not a large commercial farm - they have a vegetable garden, and some chickens, and an old carthorse, and maybe a couple of goats or a cow for milk and cheese. Ghastly and Skug are supposed to cut firewood and feed the animals and fetch groceries from the market and milk the milkable animal and fix this and repair that. All the things the parents dont have time for

Which. Is great in theory but skug has never had to do a hard day's work in his lazy aristocratic life, and develops a severe and immediate allergy to manual labour, so actually ghastly tends to do most of the chores while skug skives off and naps in the sun or chats up the girls who live on the neighbouring smallholding over the fence

And like, therein lies the problem, because they are both solidly in the grip of that cruel mistress called puberty and like. Skug was a fuckin weird-looking child. He had big ears and a sharp nose and a bunch of missing teeth and his limbs were all too long for him. But he's now rapidly growing into all the features that made him an unfortunate child, and it's already clear that he's going to be one of those people who will, inevitably, grow into handsome young men.

Which is like. Fine. Ghastly doesn't care. He's not jealous or anything. He doesn't feel a twinge when the neighbour girls only speak to him to ask about Skulduggery. Nobody here is bitter.

It's a good thing, he tells himself. Nobody will want to marry him anyway, so he's glad skug is around now so Mother can harass him to meet a nice girl and give her grandchildren. At least someone will probably want to have children with skug.

He has a dream about skug not long before his 17th. They share the attic room, and when he startles awake, skug is smirking at him from the opposite bed and asking "who is she?" and ghastly thinks oh no. He's painfully embarrassed and awkward about it, and skug rolls over and stretches and says, "relax, bespoke, your secret is safe with me" and all ghastly can focus on is that he's actually been putting some muscle on lately and when he stretches like that it does funny things to ghastly's insides.

- they start riding into town in the evenings to meet up with hopeless at the tavern, play cards and flirt with pretty girls. Or rather, skug flirts with pretty girls. He's all legs and freckles and elegant clothes, and they hang off his every word. Ghastly knows they will never look at him like that. He's Skulduggery's ugly friend. Girls only approach him to ask about skug

- and he gets it! Skug is unfairly attractive! And he's witty, and clever, and sometimes when ghastly wakes up first he stays very quiet so he can watch skug sleep, the way the dawn turns his hair to burnished copper, the way his curls fall across his forehead and the patterns his freckles make on his skin. Skug is an affectionate, tactile drunk, and hopeless looks at ghastly with something like pity whenever skug rests his chin on ghastly's shoulder or leans his head on ghastly's knee or wants a piggyback back to where they tied the horse, and ghastly takes what little he can get and says nothing.

- they're coming home drunk in the pouring rain one night, later than usual, riding doubled up on ghastly's carthorse. ghastly is behind, loosely holding on around skug's waist, and the whole way home all he can think about is how close they are and how much he wants to lean in and put his mouth on skug's neck, and by halfway home he's reduced to silently begging his semi not to pop a full on hard-on until they're home, when skug will crash like always and ghastly can take care of himself in private

- when they get home, they're locked out, which is what they get for coming home well after ghastly's parents are asleep, but this isn't a one off and ghastly's mother always leaves blankets for them to sleep in the barn. so they put the horse away and give her a rub-down/groom together and skug's shirt is practically see-through and his hair is plastered to his skull and ghastly can't take his eyes off the visible jut of collarbone where the neck of skug's shirt is undone and skug makes a couple jokes about it when their eyes meet, how ghastly has been brushing the same bit of horse for as long as it's taken skug to do half his side, but then the third time he laughs and teases, "if i didn't know better, bespoke, I'd say you wanted me" and ghastly will forever blame the alcohol but he doesn't even think about it? It comes out before he can stop himself, before he has time to remember what it could do to their friendship

- he says, "what if i did?"

- skug goes quiet for a minute, and it's a tense sort of quiet, not the thick, cloying tension that comes before a storm or an argument but the light, vibrating tension that comes with standing on a cliff's edge or drawing a bowstring, and then he ducks under the horse's head to come around to ghastly's side. He's still a little shorter than ghastly, still has to look up ever so slightly to meet his eyes.

- skug says, "do you?" like it's still half a joke, and there's a chance to back out right there, to laugh and deny it and let this become an amusing footnote at the bottom of their friendship, but ghastly ignores it. "yes."

- skug shrugs, his lip quirking, and says, "so have me."

- ghastly learns a lot that night. he also accidentally blurts "i love you" when he comes, but nobody's perfect and he's...relatively...sure skug was too distracted to have been paying attention, so he'll count that as a massive win

- morning finds them in the hayloft, tangled up in the blankets left out for them, regretting their choice of tavern beverages and, in ghastly's case, sporting a classic case of morning wood. He's kind of hoping he'll get lucky again with sleepy morning sex but skug is disgustingly hungover and just wants to burrow his head into ghastly's chest to block out the light and go back to sleep so like, out of luck.

- when skug has slept off the booze a bit more, Ghastly awkwardly broaches the question of "just how drunk were you" and they establish that they both remember fucking, neither of them regrets it, and the attraction is apparently mutual? Which is a mindfuck for self-conscious teenage ghastly, because, like, why tho

- they both get to do the walk of shame into the house when ghastly's parents wake up. Ghastly's shirt hides the nail marks skug left on his back nicely; sadly, the same cannot be said for the giant hickey he left on skug's throat, and he is eternally grateful to his parents for not bringing it up (he'll allow his mother her raised eyebrows. She did it quietly)

- they just sort of? happen, after that. There's no conversation about what they are to one another, so there are several crossed wires and feelings get hurt, but they always move past it. They both have phases of going off with someone else - but they keep ending up back together regardless of how much they argue.

#skulduggery pleasant #ghasdug #sp headcanons #nsft mention #the slightest sprinkling of smut #sp getting together meme

[nasty-b]

No longer new at all

A Reader x Feitan Fanfic

Warnings: Non-con, Graphic, Abuse, Mindfuck

Heed the fucking tags folks

Requested by @bananaprincess0

Feitan wants to go ‘home’. Phinks has been riding his asshole this whole time about the last mission not going as planned when it wasn’t even his fault. It was probably everyone's fault but his. Did that matter? Apparently not, because he’s still sitting here and listening to the blonde chew his ass out for reasons he’s completely unaware of. He might as well just leave, it’s not like they’re going to solve whatever grudge is going around with this ‘conversation’. More like a one sided argument really.“Ey- Ey! Fucking pay attention when I’m speaking to you-“

Feitan continues to tune the other out and look to the side to watch the clouds roll past on the giant canvas that is the sky. Mhh.. he got more poetic. He supposes she rubbed off on him. It almost makes him giddy to think about them two rubbing off on each other.. The short man is faintly wondering what she was up to while he was standing here like an idiot and let Phinks yell at him. Maybe the h/c haired woman was making use of the toys he got her. Some gaming consoles and all for good behavior. He made sure to continue to use the ‘good behavior gets rewards’ tactics and it had worked wonders.

In almost any region at least. She was still repulsed by him touching her in any sort of manner, which was fairly understandable, but not an issue for him personally. Feitan did his remote best to not completely tear his woman apart but sometimes just watching her struggle made him tent his pants.. so maybe, he’s not admitting it but maybe.. he sometimes had a bit of a deathgrip on the woman on purpose to encourage a bit of wiggling. His mood sours at the faint realization that it’s his own fucking fault that she’d flinch every time he touches her. Maybe one day he’ll be able to remedy it, buy her with enough rewards. By now she’d know he’d never actually kill her but hurt her? Feitan’s still very open with that notion.

First week she tried to piss off and he broke both her legs in retaliation. That.. left an impression. After that y/n never tried to run away again but it also made any sort of interaction extremely unreal and fake. She smiled at him but it wasn’t real. She did it because he told her to and that made him only angrier. The man closed his eyes and frowned, his lip pulling tight as he tried to figure out why the woman was being so difficult. It’s as if she was retarded. Feitan could give her literally anything she’d want and here they were, playing cat and mouse because she’d rather cling to a life that didn’t appreciate her-

Then again. First time they met he did kick her in the stomach for no actual reason and more because he had the urge to.. Maybe that’s where he really missed it? The man sighed. Phinks wasn’t getting the program, he’s still talking and Feitan’s out of patience. Maybe leaving was going to be the best action here, if he had to sit through hours of this he’d rather do this later when his mood was better. Right now he’s really lacking the patience for this. Y/n was all alone too, he’d rather spend some time with her. Frankly, Feitan can stand letting off some stress. Heh.. His eyes open as he thought about the primal urge he felt going through his spine.. Oh yeah. He’s getting some ideas.

Whatever, Feitan tensed his legs and stood up finally, to his not extremely impressive height. Phinks gave him a sour look and they ended up staring at each other for a moment. Don’t antagonize him, he’ll only- “I wasn’t listening.” Great job. Phinks goes red like he was about to turn into a lobster but before he can blow up again, Feitan turned his body away and just left the situation all together. He’s ignoring the yelling behind him, the blonde knows well enough to not grab Feitan from the behind. That was like asking for an actual battle. He’s not in the mood for one right now, more into a mood of putting his cock into his girlfriend. Girlfriend. He makes a face at the word. That’s not what she is.

She’s more like.. his woman? Kind of, well not emotionally and not mentally either, they were way too off for that. More of a physical ownership. Not that it mattered, he’d get there eventually. Once he got back to her, he’d just beat it into her. Repeatedly.

She wasn’t bleeding anymore at least. Only the first few times, afterwards it was like her body just grew used to him. Frankly, she felt like a perfect mold around his cock. It’s probably not what she felt like though, seeing her sob and choke in despair as she just looked at him like she had learned the hard way how to do. If she didn’t he usually reprimated her. It was a steep learning slope, but they were slowly getting to a point where she didn’t cry as much. At first she usually would be in visible pain, now it ebbed off to just discomfort.

Feitan made sure she wasn’t in pain anymore. Y/N just loved to make a drama out of it because she was still unused to him. It hadn’t been that long that he’d expect her to realize how good she was going to have it yet. This was a long, wearing process of taming a wild rabbit. Sure, it thought freedom was the way of life but that’s because it didn’t know the comfort of a captivity in luxury and safety. She’s complaining that he’s hurting her, he knows he’s not. Take it from someone who hurt people a lot during his lifetime, he was pretty good at telling when someone was in pain and when someone was just exaggerating. Case in point, when he pulled back and then jerked his hip a bit upwards to slam as deep into her as he could he got a weak gasp instead.

His eyebrow twitches at the sound. It had been happening the past few times, once she had healed from their first time and he made sure to not tear her again. Feitan put a little effort into pleasing her sometimes and, while it was a normal biological reaction that she had little control over, it sometimes did manage to rile her up slightly. Not by much, the woman herself had never cummed while they were together. Mostly because Feitan didn’t care if she did. He tried to give her one at some point but she fought it so violently that he saw it reasonable to let her keep this for herself for now.

Eventually she’d give it to him willingly anyway. He tilts his head at her, slowly reaching up and grabbing her in a mock-gentle fashion by the side of her face and giving her horrified expression a warm and inviting smile as he slowed his pace and just began gently rocking into her. She was flushed and sweat, her h/c hair sticking to her half dressed body. She’s wearing a shirt, because he was not feeling touchy today. Maybe he’d feel it next time. “Even you should start getting bored of your temper tantrums.” They’re not tantrums. They’re realistic reactions to someone raping you but a good opportunity to scrutinize her and make it a huge lesser deal than it was.

It wasn’t that he was dumb enough to think her reactions were overdone, he knew they were valid in the face of what he was doing to her, but if he told her long enough that she was just being dramatic, eventually, whether she knew better or not, she’d feel like it too. The wonders of human mentality. Some people were stronger in that regard than others. Y/n? Not exactly a strong person altogether, the woman was so sensitive to pain just the threat of breaking a finger had her in almost hysterics. Considering she was a civilian that grew up in a normal environment, not that much of a surprise. The woman isn’t answering him. She knew better, unless she agreed with him being silent was her best option.

Feitan didn’t take protest well, in fact, he didn’t take it at all. The man felt his cock twitch when her walls clamped down on him in reflex and he closed his eyes for a bit, just relishing in the sensation. Work had been hard.. (No it hadn’t.) He deserved a break. Deserved some pampering, some indulging in his needs. It’s what he tells himself even though he knew that by moral standards he deserved nothing but a rope around the neck. Good for him that he didn’t care about morals. The need to listen to his had stopped long ago. Feitan pressed his slim body against her and exhaled, she’s shivering, trembling and just biting back wails. She won’t get used to this fast.

He’ll have to keep it up, otherwise this might take forever. Not that he didn’t have the time, or patience. He could muster it if he tried hard enough.

#Feitan #Reader #Feitan x Reader #HXH #Hunter x Hunter #Dead Dove do not eat

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 11: Villain - Sinners Are We Chap. 1: I’m Kinda Glad That You’re Evil Too

When Danny goes down, so does everyone else. Including one Valerie Gray. And Dan couldn’t be happier.

Danny Fenton’s life had gone to shit and it didn’t take long after for Valerie Gray’s to follow right behind. Like Danny, she had lost her entire genuine social circle. All the other kids at school certainly weren’t friends of hers that’s for sure. And when Danny went with Vlad? Both of them seemed to just disappear in the wind.

Honestly? She was furious he hadn’t taken her with them. Wasn’t she practically family? Didn’t both of them value her? Vlad said time and time again how proud he was of her and how important she was to him. Danny had loved her once, and had stayed a strong friend after. Yet they both left her behind to rot. Danny, she could forgive, he had lost everything and nearly died; but Vlad? No. Sure she had her dad, but their relationship was strained at best, toxic at worst. He hated what she did and was meek. While she had a violent streak a mile long and loved to fight ghosts. Combine that with all three of her only friends and the one man who supported her vanishing in the aftermath of a fiery explosion, and she became a walking bomb of anger and resentment.

School didn’t help either, none of them gave a damn about the trio after the initial shock and gave even less of a damn about her. If anything, she became the new target for the torment all three had faced. Difference was? She hadn’t been about to tolerate that. Which eventually lead to a quick and unpleasant expulsion due to repeated and violent fights. Her shattering Dash’s knee had been the breaking point for the sports-obsessed school, and she couldn’t have been happier.

Screw the lot of them.

And what was she going to need schooling for anyway? She was a hunter. Now she was free to do that without the distraction of school. Which only led to her feeding her aggressive side. To her fighting more and more. Which her dad was having none of. Because then she had been around him more too, and that led to more fights. Which, her father put his foot down on after she threw a lamp through their stupid thin walls. So that left her out on the streets, with the only family she had left telling her to stay the Hell away. It was at that point she started to resent people more than ghosts.

Because what had ghosts really taken from her? Nothing at this point. Sure that damn dog had got her dad fired and ruined her clothing. But it was humans who abandoned her as a ‘friend’ and ‘family’. It was humans who had harassed her at school and sneered at her on the streets. It was humans who were the mean ones.

The treatment of her as the huntress didn’t help things either. Jack and Maddie, though strange and even dangerous, were likeable and friendly. Red was not. Especially since her grieving tactics seemed to involve taking things a little too far more often than not. She had been stupid proud the first time she managed to actually destroy a ghost, but the first time she did that publicly? The town reacted with nothing but abject horror. Crucified her as a murderer and danger to society. They didn’t reject her though. Of course those pricks didn’t, they needed her. She was the only line of defence against the ghost onslaught.

And eventually she decided: you know what? Screw this whole fucking town. You can all burn for all I care. And stopped giving even an ounce of a damn about bystanders or damages. She was just here to fight, that was it. End of story. If someone died in the crossfires then that wasn’t her problem. These people didn’t deserve for it to be her problem. Fuck every last one of them.

Then her ‘father’ really screwed her over, revealed who she was. The girl behind the mask. And all Hell had broken loose. People would cross the street to avoid her, which only pissed her off. The motel was suddenly perpetually full and any place that could get away with refusing her service did. Eventually, she had to resort to petty theft and death threats just to get a decent meal.

She was absolutely done. Done with this damn town. Done with the stupid people in it. Done with humans. At least a ghost she could pound the crap out of. And they, the ghosts, respected and feared her for it. Good. And she’ll let those ghosts destroy that stupid town, it was retribution as far as she was concerned.

And that’s when she met him again, as she was walking down a deserted road away from the only home she’d ever known and one that had scorned her. And he had looked different. In a way much similar to her. Less friendly. Less kind. Less helpful. Actually...

He had looked like a monster.

All sharp fangs and claws, forked tongue and flaming hair. Red eyes. He couldn't fool a blind man into thinking he was ‘good’ with the way he looked then. Add in the deeper voice as if puberty was a thing ghosts experienced. And the really stupid thing? The first thought that had popped up in her mind was that he was kind of... hot. Which was ridiculous. And she remembers the conversation they had then. Him floating down to stand on the ground with arms crossed and a mean smirk across his face.

“Well if it isn’t the Red Huntress”, quirked a mocking eyebrow, “come looking to hunt me down?”.

She had rolled eyes, “hardly. Unlike the others you aren’t pathetically easy to beat the shit out of”.

That had gotten him to more genuinely raise his eyebrows in slight surprise, “oh? And what if I just so happened to be on my way to Amity? What would you do then, little hunter?”.

She had known that was a threat instantly, she hadn’t known just how serious of a threat it had been though. “Ha, like I care. Raise that miserable place to the ground for all I care”.

He had actually laughed at that, loudly, and uncrossed his arms to shrug exaggeratedly, “well I’ll be. Wasn’t it your ‘sworn duty’ to protect them? That town and it’s people? Whatever could they have done to change your mind”, he had actually looked slightly impressed then, “you are impressively stubborn after all”.

“Hmmm, let me make a list. Oh wait! I don’t care. Those people are dead to me”.

“Oh? And what of ghosts?”.

She had stared at him for a bit then, though had never been able to figure out what the fuck his angle was. “Punching bags that talk back. Might have destroyed a few. What’s it to you”, she had scoffed, “not like you like ghosts either”.

He had laughed again, almost sounding like a cackle, “fair enough, Huntress. Can’t say I haven’t destroyed a few myself”, then smirked and leaned forward menacingly, “what if I said I killed Vlad? Or your dear sweet little Danny”.

She had scoffed, not believing him for a second, “that’s bullshit and both of us know that”.

He shrugged and leaned back, “hardly. Though fine, I just blew up the guys mansion. Didn’t bother confirming any corpses”.

She had squinted at him, the nonchalance had made it clear that he was being honest that time, “yeah well, that man can rot too. He turned his back on me, so fuck him. Fuck people honestly. And what? Did ghosts finally tick you off enough to want them obliterated. Join the fucking party”.

He had smirked and laughed, the smile had been honestly charming; not that she admitted that at the time. “No. I just want to see everything burn, roast marshmallows in the flames, and dance in the aftermath”.

“Well that’s ghostly of you, Phantom”.

He had rolled his eyes very exaggeratedly, “it seems you’re no different”, he had walked close and gotten his face in hers, “so who’s the ghostly one here? Seems you’ve turned your back on your kind. And here you’re supposed to be the ‘good human’”, she swore he purred then, “you know, that almost makes me disappointed. You were always my favourite. Not like any of those other idiots stood a chance”.

She had huffed and refused to back up from him, “agreed. And I don’t think I even have to point out you were my favourite target”.

“And now?”.

She glared at him, “those people have done worse to me than you ever have. I told you, screw them”, and smirked a little, “what? You gone deaf over the years?”.

He had tilted his head back and laughed loudly again, she hadn’t remembered him ever laughing that much or smiling that much. “Damn!”, and looked to her with that stupid cocky smile, “in that case, want to watch it burn together?”.

She had squinted at him more, “what are you playing at”.

Phantom had just rolled his eyes and walked past her, “as I told you, you were always my favourite, Red”. And wasn’t that a mindfuck?

She had turned her head back to watch him walk, looked back to the direction she had been going, and then made a decision that would change everything.

Screw them. Fuck them. This was just. This was what they deserved. They were going to burn and she was going to enjoy the flames.

She had turned on her heel and stalked after him, determined anger in her eyes and a small mean smile on her face. He had looked back to her, at the sound of her footsteps, and full-on cackled before grinning wild and malicious.

In another time, Amity Park would have been the last town standing. Heralded by a hero standing against her long time enemy. But this time, the charred twisted mess of debris, blood, and guts was the spark that started the fire that would set the whole world ablaze. Brought about at the whims of a duo with stained hands twined together doing the waltz across the remains; grinning and laughing all the while.

#ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober2020 #danny phantom #phandom #dan phantom #valerie gray #enemies to friends #Dark Gray #dan/Valerie #Villain! Valerie #Alternate Universe TUE #hate bonding #abandonment #fan fic #phan phic #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #past tense #referenced character death #referenced murder #angst kinda