#super fun character to write…

[yourbestpalpercy]

As the flames of the fire before them began to fade, The Blaze shoved her sword into the wood with a rough stab, watching the fire explode throughout the wood and awaken the red puffball on the other side of the fire. “Gwah! Y-You scared me again, Blaze! Wh-Why do you keep shoving your sword into the fire?? Y-You really just need to poke it lightly.”

The Blaze glanced up from the fire, staring at the red puffball rather coldly. Then again, with her mask on, all of her glances and stares looked cold. “Sorry,” She said flatly, allowing her sword to go out and disappear. The puffball reached up to his brown hat and tugged it down some. “Uhm…why do you stab the fire with so much force…?” He pressed his red gloves together. The Blaze just sat back on the grass, stretching and burning an ant she saw by lighting her finger up and squishing it. “There’s a lot to be angry about in the worlds, Glaze.”

“I think you mean…” Glaze trailed off, remembering The Blaze could travel through dimensions and had been to directly assist Glaze in moving away from his crazy family. “Never mind, I forgot you uhm…” The Blaze shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s an easy thing to forget. My whole thing is fire after all,” She raised her skeletal hand, watching the fire on it. Glaze gripped his hands, watching the blood drip down her arm.

“It…seriously doesn’t hurt wh-when you do that…?” Glaze asked, sitting up a little. “I-It makes me all squishy and sick-y inside..” Glaze messed with his paws. “Of course seeing blood makes you feel that way. Blood isn’t typically something Toons see. Just like how humans aren’t typically supposed to be given magic,” The Blaze lowered her head to stare into the flames before realizing that Glaze asked her a question. “Oh…no…it stopped hurting forevers ago. I have already destroyed all of my nerves around my hands. All that’s being charred now is the bones.”

Glaze then asked another question, “If…you can make a portal to anywhere, why haven’t you just…made a portal directly to ToonTown?” Glaze moved around the flames to join by The Blaze’s side. “Sometimes, the adventure is more fun than the actual destination. Sometimes a walk helps heal all injuries, so, we’re walking. My bet is we’ll be there by tomorrow evening.” The Blaze stared up at the stars.

“...I’m starting to realize I never really got your name, Blaze. You call yourself The Blaze. Do you…go by a different name too?” Glaze asked, staring up at her cold mask as she stared into the fire. Glaze could’ve swore he could see eyes behind her mask but he wasn’t too sure. “‘Too’?” The Blaze raised her head a bit and turned her head slightly towards Glaze.

“Uhm…yeah, gwah…m’family’s nuts. I don’t like candy though so..I go by Glaze D. Donut instead of..” Glaze groaned and rolled his eyes, “Bluu Razzberi.” The Blaze only hummed and looked back at the fire, almost entranced by it.

“Glaze,” Hearing The Blaze say his name directly instead of ‘Puffball’ or ‘Toon’ caught Glaze off guard. He flinched and looked up at The Blaze. She was now directly staring at Glaze with the cold eyes of the mask. Honestly, Glaze began to shake. “When you’ve been artificially enhanced to be around much, much longer than you’re supposed to be, being called by a name that’s not yours, you tend to forget your real name. For all I know, I’ve been known as The Blaze all my life. Any documents having my real name and family were burned up in the massacre.”

“I…don’t believe you’ve ever told me in full what ‘The Massacre’ was. Could you-,” “It was a day full of death. There’s a reason I’m called The Blaze. They all found out that day too. I don’t share details like that with people I’ll never see again,” The Blaze gestured towards Glaze, not even seeing him frown at the comment. “All you need to know is I’m known as The Blaze, I was human and I have…regretfully, committed a massacre,” The Blaze dipped her head closer to the fire. “There’s this tiny part of me that wishes I had escaped peacefully. That part says I went Overkill. That part says they all had families too. …I don’t know how to feel about it. I can’t even remember how long ago the massacre was. I lost count of the years I’ve been around. I’ve lost count of the years it's been since the massacre. Someone took a torch to my brain long ago, burnt up a memory for everyone I hurt and a memory for everything I destroyed.”

Glaze just…sighed and grew closer to the fire before using his large, donut spotted hat as a pillow and fell asleep next to the large fire. The Blaze just sighed. She would sleep too but she didn’t know these plains. Everything could be a threat. Keep your guard up. No one will ever hurt you again if you’re always ready.

‘But you haven’t slept in centuries. You need it ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️, please…please just sleep. I don’t need it. I didn’t need it then. I don’t need it now…Glaze could never protect me. I need to protect him until we get to…whatever ToonTown is. I’ll need to hide my hands or…maybe not enter the town at all. I do not need to spread panic. He’s like- what? 23? 34? 19? …Whatever, I don’t know how Toon ages work and I’m not about to do the math for a puffball I’ll never see again.’

‘You need a break, ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️, please? I don’t care that I need a break…I’ll rest when I’m dead. But…you’re immortal. My point exactly, ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️. And we don’t know if we won’t return to this place. Remember that other puffball? ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️? No, I don’t. At least not by name. Well, w-we saw her multiple times! How does a puffball without dimensional magic even get into so many worlds and get lost like that? I liked her, she was nice despite her somehow dating that other puffball. The planet destroyer? Hmfp, I remember him, that was a fun fight. I felt alive for once. I felt like I could attack him however much I wanted and he wouldn’t explode into flames. Eeeeeeh, he did once but only got coated in ash! Oh yeah, he was a manga character from a light hearted world, someone like that wouldn’t die. Or explode into fire and ash.’

‘So, you really don’t feel safe enough to sleep? Even with years of exhaustion on your shoulders? I don’t. And I won’t be taking a snooze at ToonTown either. You never know with those guys…Toons are typically unpredictable. Always will be. But Glaze-? Who cares about him? He’s going to ToonTown and he’ll be out of my scarred hands soon…And I won’t miss him! I didn’t miss the other ones- ALL I am is a hopeless wraith that carries people to other worlds as they need!’ The Blaze hadn’t noticed but some bugs and bits of loose dirt began to float a little around her as traces of orange, burning tears dripped out of her mask. ‘Now shut. up. I don’t need you…’

And with that, The Blaze sat through the night, watching the fire and…when it came close to burning out, she lightly poked the fire, watching the grass and wood sizzle for a moment before crackling into soft flames.

#oc writing #oc oneshot #oneshot #I’m super proud of this #like #you have NO idea how proud I am #of this oneshot #I haven’t written The Blaze’s character #in literally forever #and she’s changed a LOT since I first made her #I like her new character going from a depressed teen #to a mysterious character who knows more than she’s letting on #super fun character to write…

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

#ramble after realtags yeag. shoutout to serrangelic btw suggesting the silhouettes thing bc i would have Died otherwise #pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #gustavo and brick #arting #pizzaposting #so anyway i think fake peppino has like. a general awareness that he is supposed to Be Peppino and that he was Made to do that #and likewise he does generally try to...do that. the thing he does NOT realize is hes like really goddamn bad at it #not to be mean but like...c'mon. they are pretty distinctly different kinds of guys even beyond the physiology yknow. #he's neither on-brand nor fooling anyone dsjdsjjkgfsd. BUT! #since the rest of the cast generally likes him [at least as I play it] he thinks hes doing just fine #he's like 'oh they r happy with me so i must be getting a good grade in being peppino :)' #so getting told that 'yeah you actually really suck at that but that was never the reason people liked you' #and told that by og model peppino no less--yknow THE guy he's supposed to be living up to #who's already a bit intimidating for that and who ALSO totally wrecked him TWICE in the tower #making him acutely familiar with just how formidable the guy is and how much there IS to live up to.... #it's a Moment for sure. not really a sad or hurt one though. just... contemplative. #thinking abt people liking him for being the guy he's already naturally been being even though that guy is Not Peppino #i don't think he's gonna be super broken up about realizing he has a bad grade in peppino given everything else hes got now #nor do i really think he cares enough to go like reinvent himself or whatever after the fact #he seems to b pretty clearly having fun with it already so i think he just keeps doing that #and in some cases he still has the pre-installed peppino traits/instincts like to cooka da pizza. and that's fine #is this projection. yes. but if youve been following me awhile you know most of my character writing is ghdhfdgf #gonna kinda expand on all this in the gerome one which is...one after next. itll be a bit but man. #anyway peppino will never admit to anyone and especially not himself that he's gotten a little attached to the guy. hee hoo #pep tends to be kinda surly but he certainly has his ways of showing he cares. all of which are on display here #''that thing is not my son'' says man currently watching thing's antics with the 'bemused dad' arms crossed pose. yeah ok buddy. #gus is totally onto him already but hes not gonna say anything. #if u read all this ur prize is not having to go decode fp's rot13. his lines are ''meant to be you...?'' and ''wrong question.''

[kindledrose]

goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!

#cubfan135 #zedaph #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #sorry for making zed purple-coded do you still love me /j (it's kind of a magenta. so.) #this was my first time drawing cub (unless you count scraps of doodles from like 2019 that i probably lost a while ago) !! #and as such it was a definite learning process! i could definitely draw him better now i think but this one turned out okay for now #i still feel like i didn't do him justice though.. i'll try again tomorrow #zed on the other hand came out fantastic and then i proceeded to not be able to draw him well ever again (he's from a few days ago) #fun fact i was trying to write a desert duo-centric little story a couple days ago and i randomly put cub in as a placeholder character for #-scar to talk to in a scene and my entire story accidentally became about convex instead. whoopsies #also zed lives in scar's basement. cub does too but he actually pays rent. they don't know about zed so it's funny #scar's house is a theme park. his basement is a hole #it's a whole thing. why am i talking about this? i don't know i'm really tired ok #doodles #reblogs super appreciated as always :D

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

#Ticklish!Dogday #Lee!Dogday #Ler!Reader #Ler!Player #poppy playtime tickles #poppy playtime tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #DOGDAY IS A DEAR HE DESERVES TO LAUGH AND BE SILLY AND PLAYFUL AND HAPPY OK I COULDN'T HELP IT #I like to imagine that Dogday is all giggles and half pleas and protesting babbles and giddy snickers until he actually gets tickled #then he just let everything else go and start laughing non stop without a single care in the world #if i had a nickel everytime I had to be careful while describing raspberries and nibbles w a character that had trauma related to being- #well- #nibbled on but not in a tickly fun way. I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot. But it's weird that happened twice... #lkjhgfghjkolploijuh anyway!! hope you all have a nice week! take care <3 #xreader #they are both incredibly silly you honor #I was writing another fic where reader and dogday find his own small smiling critter toy version and befriend it but this one will be super #-long and time is scarse so I decided to finish this playful idea here first and then try to write the other when I can #Let's see how that plays out :D

[ceruleancattail]

The Heart’s Rage

Butler Jade x reader

Your fingers trembled.

Digging them into the walls, plaster cutting deep into your nails. Hands closing around a hilt, squeezing tight. Clad in leather, wrinkled with age. An old sword, framed onto the walls of your mansion.

For too long has it stood upon its lofty perch, staring down at you tantalisingly. The gleam of the metal mocking you, in the gentle morning light. It taunts you, challenging you to grasp its hilt.

Today, you shall.

A metallic stench wafted into your nostrils, stinging like a thousand wasps. The stench of rust, a crimson red along the blade. A metal that once was stainless, now crumpling to dust, bit by bit. Nothing could stand against the gruelling march of time forever, yet you hoped. You dared to hope.

Hoping that this blade had some life to it yet.

Storming down to the courtyard, you fling that insufferable letter down. With a heave, you thread it underfoot, stomping it into disarray. Sword held ready, you swing it down, that blunt blade stabbing through the papers. Absolutely skewering its contents into nothingness.

That flowery prose that sent shivers down your spine. That self assured manner which the sender carried themselves with, the sheer confidence that you would accept their proposal. The audacity of them to make plans for a wedding, without even consulting you.

It disgusted you.

Expletives were uttered as you stabbed, pressing your body weight into every blow. Sword striking again, again, and again. Sweat dripped down your brow, slipping into your eyes.

The salt stung, tears dripping out of your eyes. Emotions burning red hot, searing your veins like molten lava. Everything hurts. Your arms, aching from the exertion. Your back, throbbing away incessantly.

Your heart, slighted and offended. Doomed to be married off to another, without a single thought given to your opinion.

Planting the sword firmly onto the ground, your legs give way. Crashing to the earth, hands still grasping the hilt desperately. Your forehead brushes against the blade, weighed down with despair.

Your lips part, to form a single word. A curse, a plea, just something. Anything to release that stifling pressure pressing down on your chest.

“Fuck.”

Soft. A handkerchief was brushed gently over your forehead, down to your cheeks, before finally wiping your neck. Gathering all the sweat with one fluid motion. A gloved hand cupped your cheek, the linen brushing against your skin. A pair of mismatched eyes peered into yours, brows pressed together in concern.

“Master, you really shouldn’t use such crass words.”

His gaze flickered towards the letter. Or rather, what remained of it. Moving his shoes over the scattered remains, he nudged the pieces in place. A sigh, as fragments form into readable words. A name was all Jade needed, before his feet planted themselves firmly into the paper.

“That family is certainly… determined, are they not?”

You groan, an insufferable sound.

“Determined isn’t the word I’ll use. More like desperate. I’ve shot them down again, and again. Yet they haven’t taken a single hint.”

Jade shrugs. A casual movement that has his shoulders rippling through his suit. Smooth, like the crystal clear waters rushing down a stream.

“Perhaps they were… a little too blinded by your prestige, my dear. Perhaps your wealth was another factor.”

A sharp click fell from your tongue.

“They’ll never have it. They’ll never have me.”

A low chuckle. Jade brings his fist upwards, laughing into his glove.

“How admirable, Master. Yet the longer you remain unwed, more and more… suitors will come crawling out of the woodwork.”

The word suitors was said in a low, menacing voice. Positively dripping with venom. For a moment, a shadow shrouded Jade’s face. A sinister expression one might find in a horror film… on the killer himself.

However, one blink and it was gone. Wiped cleanly off his face like it never existed. Although a deathly chill still ran down your spine, all the same.

“Honestly, Jade. I’m tired of this.”

Leaning back, you plonk yourself on the ground. Arms stretched out behind you, supporting your weight. Dirt and grass presses into the plush of your palms. Silvers of pain stabbing through your skin.

Although, compared to the pain of a sword’s hilt? You prefer these emerald blades of grass instead.

A rustle of cloth, as Jade takes a seat next to you. His slender legs bumping against yours, shoulders just barely grazing your own. Hand sneaking towards yours, Jade threads his fingers through yours. Clutching it firmly.

Not tightly enough to hurt, but not loose enough for you to slip out of his hold.

You shoot him a quizzical gaze, holding up his hand. Jade gently presses his other hand over yours, folding your fingers into the back of his palm.

His touch was cold. The refreshing temperature of a lake in the summer, transparent drops of water twinkling in the sunlight. They lap against your skin, delightfully cool. Unconsciously, your fingers grow just a smidge tighter.

Pulling his palm closer.

Pulling him closer.

Closer to you.

Jade lowers his head, lips pressing into your fingertips. Light, fleeting kisses alighting upon your skin. First, they’re on the very tips of your fingers. Then, he slowly moves up, the plush of his lips resting on each of your knuckles. Before he slips to the back of your palm.

Pressing a gentlemanly kiss into your hand.

His glance flickers up, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Filled to the brim with adoration, a certain slyness lurking deep within. He holds you ever so gently, a lover’s touch.

“Well, if I may be so bold…”

Moving a little closer, Jade’s voice lowers into a sultry purr. Velvet, wrapping you within his arms. Yanking you closer to him, a mere fish in the clutches of an eel.

Honestly? You don’t really mind.

He could squeeze you to death, if it meant you’ll live the rest of your days in his embrace.

“Perhaps the best way to avoid any more.. suitors would be to.. elope, ourselves.”

His grip grows tighter.

A silent threat?

A promise of passion?

A gesture of affection?

Either way, he’ll never let you say no.

“What do you say, Master?

Would you grant me the honour of your hand?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Jade leech #Jade leech x reader #Jade #Jade x reader #butler au #lucky potion🔹 #coming back with jade locked and loaded baby!!!!!! #he’s just… a fun character to write for. I genuinely enjoy this slippery bastard’s personality #I actually wrote this on my break #so it was super fun to write for an angry mc #for once

[sourscratched]

got caught in one of the back wheels of the bandwagon, extended corniverse headcanons be upon ye

my bryce and clark are based on the lovely lovely designs for them made by @gaybearwedding !! (well they at least were initially. things may have gotten away from me)

additional dumb doodling under the cut

(and one for my little team illinois + nebraska ocs ⬇️)

notes, headcanons, etc:

- the Wicked shirt and the blue button down (from the group pic in the first photoset) are both shirts i’ve owned for a long time and are still in my closet right now

- the team illinois and team nebraska captains are named dani (daniela) and miya and pretty much exactly what happened between bryce and clark also happened with them. they also spent a summer road-tripping together; prime grounds for homosexual thoughts to happen

- for anybody who’s watched the off book episode The Kids Are At Night with Mary Sohn (10/10 episode highly recommended), i imagine that most nights after clark gets done helping his sisters* with their homework he’s probably looking up online editions of Boy Boy Magazine. gotta get connected to the culture

* = my headcanon is that he has two sisters, one older one younger

- the Away Team is from the same country as Princess Emily but they’re diehard Nothing Everything Children Glass fans (is there an actual name for the group who made it?? tag with your headcanon for the band name) and there is a rivalry between the two factions

that’s all ive got for now thanks for reading all my weird little ideas!! 💖💖

#my art #play it by ear #im extremely late to the party #anyway!!!! #these were really fun to make #*slaps the cornhole in one characters* you can project so many queer young adult life experiences onto these bad boys #i haven’t been super active recently but ive quietly been keeping up on the content everyone’s been making and it’s so good and cute #it makes me super happy that more and more people are jumping in and making stuff for the series #💐🌸🌹🌼💝 <- for the pibe fans make sure to take one with you #anyway. my hobby is connecting elevator pitch to as many parts of the improvised musical universe as possible #i have more thoughts but im not collected enough to write them out.. maybe later #i feel like ive been so in my head with the hcs for this universe that there’s a lot of stuff in this post that must be ??? to everyone #but hopefully it’s like. mildly intelligible at least

[kobadit]

Rogue City was so good, you guys

#Robocop #Robocop Rogue City #I love the feel of games like this where it's linear but there are optional side quests #along with deviations in conversations/relationships and how to play/spec your character #reminds me of Deus Ex #the devs at Teyon clearly have so much love for the Robo property #it was super fun and the writing had me enthralled #plus it made me rewatch Robocop 1987 which is an absolute banger of a film

[freakadr0id]

This has been sitting in the back of my mind since I first watched Rise, but it seems that the show hints at an underlying sadness to Donnie's character that appears very subtly over the course of both seasons.

(Long post after the cut)

I feel like Donnie longs for a normal, human life to some degree. It isn't a major part of his character but it's there. Maybe he doesn't exactly want to be human, but there are a few signs that Donnie wants, at the very least, a human experience.

We see a few nods to this throughout the show:

He has a knowledge and love of fashion and appearance, something he, as a mutant turtle, wouldn't need to know or care about. Sure, his brothers wear clothes several times in the show as well, but they don't seem to have as much of an interest or passion as Donnie.

In 'The Purple Jacket' Donnie initially wanted to fit in with the Purple Dragons, a human group of teens at a human school (although it was mostly for the jacket).

I mean, this is a boy who wants to actually go to school and even graduate college but we know that, realistically, he can't do either.

Seriously, just look at how happy he is to be at April's school!

Hell, he draws eyebrows on his mask for goodness sake. Yes, from a meta standpoint this is mostly for the sake of his character design since he would look really fucking stupid without them, but the key to any good character design is to have an in-universe reason for it as well. While some people headcanon that Donnie does this to better convey his emotions (which is totally valid and I kind of agree), I also think this could also be a way for him to seem just a bit more human.

I'm not saying this is a defining element of Donnie's character - IT ISN'T. Our boy Donnie is confident in his intelligence, his skills as a scientist and an inventor, and who he is as a person overall - he doesn't want to change those things about himself. However, it is possible that maybe some small, quiet part of Donnie still longs for the things he could experience if he was a human, as opposed to a mutant turtle.

Hopefully, I'm not the only one who sees this because I think there are interesting things you could do with this part of his character - especially when you consider his closer friendship with April and the potential isolation he feels with his brothers.

I don't know, maybe this is just me overthinking things or looking for angst where there is none, however, this little thread of Donnie's character appeared often enough in the show to at least acknowledge it.

#yeah I'm not sure how I feel about this post #I might be crazy here #and maybe I'm grasping at straws #but I noticed it enough in the show that I just HAD to mention it #Rise also reinforces it visually by constantly framing and pairing april and Donnie together #and planting the idea that Donnie has a closer association with humans in the mind of the audience #BUUTTT #I still think it would be super fun to explore more of this in fanon and canon #we're getting that season 3 I'm sure of it #(they said in complete denial) #Just think about it #he is a softshell turtle who likely feels that he's different from his brothers #if you consider those insecurities #it makes his subtle longing for humanity and the human experience that much more interesting #maybe someone with better writing skills than me can play with this idea a bit more #*hint hint* #and who knows #this could be an established part of Donatello's character in TMNT already #Rise is the only TMNT thing I've seen so I have no idea #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rise donnie #rise donatello #analysis #character analysis #rottmnt analysis

[agerefandom]

🧸 Tenth doctor

10th Doctor is a flip to me! He is SUCH a regressor and SUCH a caregiver at the same time.

I personally think that any version of The Doctor doesn't fit into dichotomies: they're always both of whatever is offered to them.

Random Headcanons:

1- bad at keeping regression gear separate: if he's taking care of a regressor, he'll steal their gear, but also give them things from his own stash: he just doesn't register the 'his' vs. 'theirs'

2- his physical affection goes way up when he's regressed, and he's definitely a 'run and jump into a hug' kind of regressor when he's comfortable with someone

3- I think The Doctor and The Master used to be a matched set of flips when they were both on Gallifrey and it adds to ye olde angst of 10's seasons

send a character and a 🧸 and I’ll give you three random agere headcanons!

#doctor who agere #my headcanons #agere writing #agere headcanons #fandom agere #asks #anon #headcanon ask game #ok this game is super fun #thank you to everyone sending characters! #doctor who

[good-beans]

I know most of our focus goes (rightfully) to the trial songs, but I genuinely believe Baptism of Fire is equally a masterpiece of meaningful writing and intense vocal acting

Incoming tag rant because I need to yell about this, feel free to yell back

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #like the other vds have good writing about the character and whatever social issue their crime focuses on #but this one is very pointedly about YOU #its about the audience. its about the milgram project. its about self reflection. its about self-appointed roles. its about you #even if you didnt vote t1 or anything the whole things is calling on you to reflect on your own judgements of others #how you treat people who come off rougher. how you treat people who have made a (bad but) common mistake. #do you also find entertainment in seeing people dragged down and suffering because it would 'serve them right?' #but es always remains in control of the situation. the drama doesnt end with 'and fuuta was right - you guys suck!' #its clarified that situations are different and have nuance. we are reminded to look at things with nuance. #then we are smoothly re-immersed in the story #and then!! the acting itself!!! #arthur lounsbery put his whole fussy into that performance (<- fuuta pussy) and i am in his debt every day for it #in both his vds hes just super expressive and fun to listen to #i dont understand japanese but he packs so much interesting intonation and emotion into every word -- im obsessed listening to him #he nails all the subtle emotions fuuta has: the pouts and outrage as well as underlying fear grief insecurity and immaturity #and then baptism of fire hes just... Wailing #like mahiru has her innocent and pathetic cries of pain in her sweet voice that works for her character but fuutas pain feels much more raw #the way hes practically sobbing at the end -- his voice cracking and screeching throughout -- the whimper of pain #its so unbearably intense!! it hurts!! and its supposed to!! but hes just so raw with it #and dont even get me started on his pained hysteric laughter omg.... #its just. a masterpiece. #i always appreciate the vds but i dont think ive enjoyed/relistened to one as much as this one #okay WAIT im back to add one more thing because im obsessed with ths idea of intentions #specifically in milgram i think the intention behind the murders are very important to consider #so i love love love the huge focus on 'i didnt expect/mean for this to happen' #plus as a general theme in fiction i think its sooo juicy when good intentions get fucked up #so i loved the repetition of that #fuuta is such a special case because he genuinely had no desire or expectation for his victim to die #(maybe kazui too? but he doesn't say so in his vd like fuuta does)

[arsenicflame]

it is so funny to be reading my izzy takes from last year where i was trying to be all moderate and shit and like 'i know hes done a lot wrong but that doesn't mean i cant like him :( ' in comparison to my more recent takes where ive babygirled the hell out of him. thats my princess. he is perfect in every way and i think he should stab stede again, as a treat :)

#izzy haters will hate you for liking izzy either way so why not have fun with it! #i can; of course be serious about my opinions with him! i have a lot of serious opinions about what hes done and what i want to see #but its way more fun for me most the time just! being silly with him!! im gonna give him stupid shirta. im gonna cradle him bridal style #im gonna joke about him pegging jack im gonna give him a super pretty and rich boyfriend who shows stede up tenfold (sam my beloved) #i think he should have done worse!!!!!!! #as i said the other day. im not his lawyer im writing his biased character letters #nyxtalks #ofmd #izzy hands #israel hands

[tiny-chubby-bird]

So like a normal person I got kind of curious and looked at the names of the petrified drow so I could try looking for possible name meanings, but I'm no drow expert. I could only look at the Drow Names site and hope for any similarities. These are my best guesses:

Dhourn (Dhaun: infested, plague. Houn: magic, trail, way)

Izwae (izz: hidden, mask, masked. Wae: heir, inheritor, princess)

Moy (May: beautiful, beauty, silver. Mol: blue, storm, thunder, wind. oj: aura, cloak, hide, skin)

Arcagh (word arc: curve, bow. Akor/Alak: beloved, best, first. agh: breaker, destruction, end, omega)

Tecothy (like Timothy? Teb: blade, sharp, sword)

Artimezt (Inspired by Artemis maybe? zt: finder, hunter)

Important to note that some of the similar words/names I found and used here are the feminine versions, and I remember seeing a detailed post somewhere in which someone took Kar'niss' name and tried to translate it, in which they also mentioned what it means if a male drow uses a feminine name version, but I forgot...

#drowposting #bg3 drow #dnd drow #my personal favourite has to be arcagh #that's a great name lmao #like gagging and exclaiming “argh!” #i rlly wanna write a fic with these guys some day :( #no idea what but i'm kinda getting attached #why am i always like this #i always pick out some npcs that barely have any lines or info about them #and then get sorta obsessed #maybe because it's fun to interpret? #like it's fun to take a character with barely any info and just make up your own shit based on the little info you have #anyway i'm super normal about this

[randomalistic]

Becoming an adult means realizing helluva/hazbin are Kind of bad

AND you are still allowed to Enjoy Things that are Sorta Bad ❤️ you just acknowledge the flaws along with the strengths

#they’re both a guilty pleasure still #it’s such a weird show like. godly animation super catchy songs #writing? ohh. Not Great #the characters are wonderful they’re just Written Weirdly #helluva is better than hazbin imo but still they suffer from the same problems #vivziepop critical #it’s so easy to hate it and overlook the fun things about it just as it’s so easy to love it and overlook the weird things about it #YOU CAN HAVE BOTH

[pangyham]

been thinking about the liyue gang and how id draw their physical builds so here are some thoughts i had for xy cy and gm in particular

- xingqiu, unsurprisingly, would be quite lanky. i like to think he has broad-ish shoulders, like a thin athlete's build? hes a long boy to me haha, long face, neck, limbs, fingers etc, so naturally hes stands (comparatively) tall at 5'6" or 5'7"

i like to think hes most physically attractive one and has that handsome princely and boyish charm to him because it adds a lot to his fuckass duality LOL

- chongyun is a lot like xiao imo! short stature but with muscular arms. he seems nimble and flexible because of his normal attack animations (which bears a lot of similarities to xiao's actually! this + the fact that chongyun's normal attacks create gusts of wind further reinforces my hc that xiao trains him). sometimes i watch high energy choreography vids on youtube and some dancers look incredibly light on their feet, almost like their body is inherently bouncy? and i imagine chongyun to have that agility to him. chongyun has a delicate face and aura and i let that bleed into my hcs for his fighting style and physical capabilities hahaha. hes kind of like a cat who's deceptively strong. as for height.. just a few inches taller than xiao, so perceptibly short at 5'4"

- ga ming my new beloved. pretty much similar to chongyun but more muscular and stronger just because he wields his claymore with ease. theres a noticeable weight different between cy and his claymore the way he lugs it up after he swings (or even other claymore users like razor who, on his last hit, bounces from impact). meanwhile ga ming literally slams his to the ground LOL. i love his movements though hes very swift and expressive and radiant.. if cy has delicate movements then ga ming's is fierce and (charmingly!) assertive

ga ming is wonderfully charismatic though, i know hes not well known in liyue harbor yet, but he seems like the type to gain a reputation from his friendliness. how could no one adore him hahaha. 5'5" for height! just between xy and xq

#tangy talks genshin #chongyun gets analyzed most my bad #this was super fun though #while thoughtful ; genshin chara designs will always look distinctly gacha and flashy so a lot of the designs kinda blur together in my hea #this is why i really like looking into their animations particuarly their normal attacks #i think it conveys their personalities really well! it's always something to look forward to when new characters release #i gravitate towards swords polearms and claymores most though because i like the act of swinging and slashing hah. it also requires a lot o #body movement and reflects a lot of irl martial arts fencing and other combat techniques #sword users are always really fun to watch because theyre inherently graceful hahah. i will admit it gets kinda repetitive #i think my favorite NA animation has to be albedo's.. very simple clean and refined. he stands elegantly and puts his arm behind his back o #his 2nd attack which ive been transfixed by since be first came out in 2020 LOL. i love albebo #wow these tags are long as hell #but anyway i actually have more thoughts on xq's physical appearance but its just me rambling about how i think hes funny as fuck #im a proponent of dashingly pretty princely xingqiu not necessarily because i want to bestow upon him desirable traits #but because i think its funny knowing hes just a bit of a loser under all that #hes well known (mr worldwide one might say) and the heir to a prestigious guild and chivalrous talented and prolific #but he writes self insert novels hates carrots had bad handwriting sings really bad #hes just a teenage boy #as always i will 100% have more to say about chongyun but ill save that for another post #ga ming on the other hand.. i dont have anything substantial to say but hes super fun to think about #hes such a likable character #wow these tags are LONG as fuck ill stop now.

[meowmeowmage]

Anders: There is nothing you can say that I haven't said to myself.

Red!Hawke: I bet I fucking can. Thank you! For finally bringing the tension to a boil, it was driving me fucking nuts! And you did it in a way that forces the mages to fight back instead of getting slaughtered like pigs in their sleep. And by forcing the mages and the city into a fight you're also giving me the chance to finally fucking go at Meredith. And on top of everything you took care of Elthina. I'd like to see her neutrality now. Shut up, Sebastian! I knew you [Anders] had a plan but wow, it was way more effective that I could've predicted, fucking brilliant! The Chantry can't sweep this under the carpet. Now stand the fuck up and let's go kill a shitton of templars. I've been itching for a fight for damn years already. I said stand up, come on!

#handers #anders #hawke #my posts #red hawke is super fun to write bc you can go full on unhinged and it would still be in character haha #red!hawke aggressively reassuring anders #also i love to write characters swearing and red hawke is the best candidate for that

[hum--hallelujah]

like a sledgehammer to a disco ball - 3.9k words, Fun Ghoul angst and protective Kobra Kid

Kobra jerks awake at the first creak of the floor. The only person who has any right to be in his room at night knows better than to step where the floor creaks. Instinct takes over and he's holding his blaster at body height by the time his brain and eyes are awake enough to see through the dark.

"It's me, it's me, it's me," Ghoul stammers, holding his hands defensively in the air. Only, it sounds more like "'smee," because of the way Ghoul is slurring. And he's bleeding.

Kobra drops the blaster as soon as he realizes that the dark smear across Ghoul's face is blood. "What the hell, man," he hisses, groping in the dark for a light with one hand and trying to pat Ghoul down to make sure he's not like, actively dying, with the other. He could be blackout drunk or he could have gone out alone like he does sometimes and any number of things could have happened. The cold metal of an old flashlight meets his fingers and he flicks it on, shining the dim light over Ghoul.

"I did something stupid," Ghoul says. Only, it comes out as "Uh did su'hn stooid," wavering slightly, because the entire right side of Ghoul's face, from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone, is sliced open. There's a horrific flap of flesh hanging loose that's supposed to be connected to the rest of his face. That's where the blood staining his face and clothes and hands is coming from, and why when he speaks, it sounds wrong.

"Holy shit," Kobra whispers, feeling cold Zone night air sting his eyes because they're open so wide. "Okay. Okay, what happened?" He holds Ghoul carefully by one arm, feels the way he's shaking. He's always shaking, except when he's got his hands in a bomb. This is worse than normal though. This is so much worse than anything Kobra's ever seen.

Ghoul shrugs, waves his hands vaguely and wildly. Kobra hisses a sharp breath through his teeth, frantically runs a hand through his hair. "Okay," He says again. "I'm gonna get-" He needs Jet, de facto medic, he needs Party, needs his brother-

"No," Ghoul says sharply, and that at least is completely clear. His eyes are wild from what Kobra can see in the dark. If human eyes could glow, his would. He grips Kobra's arms. "Please don't," he mumbles around the gruesome injury. His voice is high and frantic, and it has to hurt to talk. "Just you."

Kobra freezes. There's a slowly building feeling of dread, growing stronger by the moment. He pulls Ghoul off him, holds him by the wrists. "Okay. Just me," he promises, and feels sick about it. "Just me."

Ghoul noticeably relaxes, though he's still trembling head to toe, and lets Kobra drag him across the diner in near-silence aside from the occasional seemingly involuntary whimper on Ghoul's part, into the single-stall bathroom with a barely working lightbulb. Somehow, they make it past the front room where Party sleeps without waking him, much as Kobra wants to let his brother take care of this. He's practically trembling at how badly he wants Pois right now.

There's a medical kit in the cabinet that Kobra pulls out immediately. He knows how to handle this, physically speaking. It's whatever else, the shit he doesn't know and is scared to find out, like how this freaking happened, that makes him nervous. Ghoul stands in the flickering light like he doesn't know what to do.

"Sit the fuck down," Kobra snaps nervously, gesturing to the toilet lid. Ghoul does. Kobra pulls a dubiously clean rag from the cabinet and eyes it. It scares him to see Ghoul like this. Usually if he's scared, he fights. He hisses and spits and claws at whoever comes near him. More often than not, that's Kobra. But this, the wide-eyed jittering, is a whole other animal.

"This whole thing is gonna suck," he says stiffly. Ghoul nods. With a little more light, Kobra can see the thick, shiny blood streaming from the wound through his cheek. It isn't enough that Kobra's afraid Ghoul will bleed out, but the cut is so long and clear through and absolutely grotesque. He crouches down in front of where Ghoul is sitting, sideways on the toilet, and he can't tell if Ghoul is looking at him or through him, almost as if he's the ghost.

In a quick motion that startles both of them, probably, Kobra grabs the back of Ghoul's head with one hand and presses the rag to the seeping wound with the other. Ghoul's eyes go even wider and even greener, and what starts out as a shout of pain from him turns into a choked keening sound. Hearing it feels like being stabbed.

"What happened?" Asks Kobra again, when he's convinced that the bleeding has slowed enough to try and actually deal with this thing. He twists the handle on the faucet on and off, on and off, enough times that the ancient water pump starts up and clean water gurgles into the sink. He cleans the rag that way, then wets it and wrings it out before shutting the water off.

Ghoul's shoulders rise and fall in short, panicky breaths. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm- I didn't think, it was stupid, I'm sorry," he continues babbling like that before going silent again aside from the sharp sounds of his breathing.

In a testament to Kobra's selfishness, his biggest worry is that Ghoul took his motorbike out for a spin and crashed it. He can't think of what could have caused something like this. He has visions of his bike sliding out on a turn, crumbled metal and Ghoul's body flying through the air. But if that had happened he'd be hurt other than this. If that had happened he might be dead.

"Yo," he says quietly. "Chill. Just tell me what happened." He presses the now-damp rag to Ghoul's face, trying to ignore just how grotesque the wound really is. Maybe because it's fresh, maybe because of the fear, but somehow it's worse than the space where Jet's other eye used to be. Kobra never wanted to see an injury of that level on another person again in his life, let alone someone he cares about.

Ghoul flinches away, but Kobra shoots him a look and it must process somehow, because he stills and lets Kobra clean the already drying blood away from the edges of the wound with barely a whine. "It was stupid," he repeats, his voice shaking as much as it's slurring. "I don't know why I did it, Kid."

Something about the way he says that, voice small and wavering, sends a chill down Kobra's throat. Sudden understanding dawns on him. The blood on Ghoul's hands. He's not injured anywhere else. "You did that to yourself?" Kobra asks hoarsely.

Ghoul's eyes snap onto his and the rest of the color drains from his face. Kobra thinks he's going to pass out for a second, but he doesn't. He pulls as far away as he can, scrabbling awkwardly against the cold tiles and porcelain of the bathroom. "I don't know what I though, I was stupid, I don't- Kobra," he whines, with enough animalistic despair that Kobra wants suddenly to burst into tears, if he weren't so utterly stunned.

"Ghoul, calm down, I've gotta stitch it still," he says on autopilot. "Cool your engine, man."

Maybe it's the practicality of the thing that makes Ghoul momentarily stop panicking. "I'm sorry," he says again, tears welling in his eyes that he then blinks away half-frantically. Kobra's never heard him apologize for anything before tonight. He never wants to hear it again.

"It's okay, man. I've got you." He replies. If his own voice is shaking now, too, no the hell it isn't. "Come on, you have to let me..." he trails off, eyes wide. "Ghoul, why..." Then he shakes his head. He can't think about that now. He needs to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. And it's going to hurt Ghoul really, really badly.

He reaches behind him, grabs at the bottle of alcohol. This stuff is rare out in the Zones. They try to use it as little as possible. Only in emergencies. This is enough of an emergency, though. This is a fucking crisis.

He pours the bare minimum of the alcohol onto another piece of cloth, feels the cold soak in. Ghoul watches every move with jerking, stilted intensity. Kobra looks up at him from where he's now kneeling on the cold tile. He puts a hand behind Ghoul's head again. "This is going to hurt," he warns. They've nearly gouged each other's eyes out before, yet suddenly Kobra feels like he's going to be sick at the thought of causing Ghoul any more pain. Ghoul shuts his eyes in preparation.

Ghoul still nearly screams when Kobra dabs the alcohol over his wound. Kobra can see it in the way he holds his breath, the spring-tight tension in Ghoul's entire body. The only noise he makes is a quiet, drawn out whine, though. When a tear streaks down his cheekbone, Kobra catches it before a drop of salt can enter the wound.

"'Kay," he says in a ragged whisper. "That's done. Now I have to-" he gestures like he's sewing. Ghoul's eyes pop open to see what he's saying and he visibly forces himself to breathe again.

"'Kay," Ghoul says back in an equally torn up voice.

It only takes Kobra three tries to thread a needle. Medical supplies of any type are hard to come by, a whole new kind of commodity, but this stash has been here for as long as he can remember, just in case. Blaster burns, the most common injuries amongst 'Joys, come pre-cauterized. He's rarely had to sew sutures before.

Ghoul flinches back when the tip of the needle first touches the edge of his torn skin, and Kobra pauses. "Hold still," he grumbles, more out of familiar sniping than any real frustration at this point. He keeps his hand in Ghoul's hair the entire time he sews.

The feeling of a needle piercing flesh is horrible. The fact that it's his friend, someone he'd give his life for before seeing them hurt, is even worse. Kobra wants to fucking throatpunch whoever did this to Ghoul, or better, do the same thing to them, before he remembers with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Ghoul did this to himself.

He ties off the suture just barely keeping his hands from shaking. He doesn't know how Ghoul does this with bombs. Ghoul flinches again, violently, when Kobra cuts the excess line, and Kobra has to jerk back to keep from catching a flailing, uncoordinated fist in the face.

"Hey," he snaps. "Ghoul!"

Ghoul slips off the toilet lid and onto the floor almost as if he intended it but halfway as an accident and immediately curls in on himself. He pulls his knees to his chest and curls his arms around his head and Kobra can hear him hyperventilating. Kobra fucking freezes. He's used to fighting and wrestling and knee-jerk reactions that wind up with someone sporting a black eye. He is terrified right now. And there's still Ghoul's blood on his hands, too.

"Ghoul..." He cautiously reaches out, puts a hand on Ghoul's leg. Ghoul twitches, lets out a hiccupy sound that takes a moment to register in Kobra's mind as a sob. Ghoul, chaos loving, cackling Ghoul, is crying. And not just a single tear, now, his whole body is shuddering with the force of how hard he's crying. Kobra's heart is pounding with how hard he does not know what's happening, but he grips Ghoul's arm and lightly shakes him. "Hey, I'm still here, man."

Ghoul makes that keening whine again and Kobra thinks at first that he's going to pull away at best, or throw a real punch at worst. They fight enough, for any and no reason at all, that he expects it now. That's their normal. This isn't.

Ghoul scrambles to his knees, his hands finding the front of Kobra's shirt. This restroom is small, they're already in close quarters. But maybe unintentionally, maybe just scrabbling for a little purchase on anything, Ghoul winds up grabbing onto Kobra. And Kobra has always had a hard time letting anything go.

Ghoul's forehead crashes into his shoulder and Kobra instinctively puts his hands up, grabs back onto Ghoul in return. Ghoul's usual shaking is familiar to him, but the repressed wracking sobs aren't. Kobra clutches desperately around Ghoul's back, like he could hold together what he's just sewn up, like if he keeps Ghoul close enough he can't shake into pieces. No one should be able to break Ghoul. Not even Ghoul himself.

The edges of the cabinet dig into Kobra's back, but he ignores it. Ghoul is folding in on himself, making himself as small as he can against Kobra, and Kobra doesn't fucking know what to do. He's never seen Ghoul cry like this. He's never seen anyone cry like this.

"It hurts," cries Ghoul suddenly.

"I know," Kobra says, before he realizes that crying like this is probably making everything worse, that he'd worried about salt in the wound a minute before for this exact reason. He can't imagine the pain Ghoul is probably in.

"It didn't hurt at first," Ghoul mumbles, then chokes on a sob. "It didn't hurt when I started. And then it did."

Kobra wants to ask again, why? But he won't get anything intelligible. There's a part of him that doesn't want to know. He's terrified of knowing the truth. Instead, he threads his fingers through Ghoul's hair again and just repeats, "I know. I know."

A few minutes pass in speedy, spiraling silence. The only sound between them is their shared too-fast breathing.

"I can't," stammers Ghoul finally, after his cries have tapered out into raspy gasps. "I can't turn it on or off."

"Huh?" Is all Kobra can think to say. "Ghoul, you're not making sense, nothing about this makes sense," he snips, too quick and too tense. He's so beyond his depth. He wants Jet or Party to come help but he can't have it his way because he promised. He promised Ghoul. He wants to hit something. A wall, just to feel the impact. To imagine he's hitting whatever it is that hurt his friend so badly he hurt himself.

Ghoul sniffs. All Kobra can see of him is the top of his head and the cheek with the stitches. The wound is swollen and red and is going to leave a horrific scar. Kobra clenches his fist tighter behind Ghoul's back. "When I'm having fun or not," Ghoul says. "I can't. I am or I'm not. But."

"But what?" For fuck's sake, Kobra just wants to understand. He can read Ghoul like a book from cover to cover most times, and it scares him that he's so lost right now.

"It isn't good enough," he mumbles. "It's... It's in my fuckin' name, Kid, if I can't live up to that what am I?"

Kobra stares, wide-eyed, at the wall across from him. Something clicks. The clean cut through Ghoul's face, clearly from a recently sharpened knife, clearly intentional, reached from the corner of his lips almost to his ear. "Oh fuck no," he whispers. "Hell no. What the fuck. You're not-" He feels himself shaking suddenly, with restrained searing hot anger. Ghoul cut his head open, mutilated himself, to make himself permanently grin. "You're not fucking beholden to your fucking name," Kobra says. He never swears this much, only in his own mind. He's running out of words. "Fuck," he says, with feeling.

Ghoul shudders again. "I'm fuckin insane, aren't I?" He asks with sudden clarity.

It's exactly what Kobra had been thinking, for once completely unable to figure out Ghoul's mind, but he can't just say that. He can't just say that he's terrified because nothing makes sense and he's never going to freaking leave Ghoul alone again because this is all completely unhinged on so many levels that he can't even begin to sort through it. He can't say anything. He hopes Ghoul is sane enough to understand that, at least.

He just holds his friend tighter. He wants his brother more than anything right now, wants Party to come and take this weight out of his hands, but a part of him knows that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to let go of Ghoul. Why didn't Ghoul want anyone else but him? Why, after pretty much imprinting on Party like a feral kitten when they'd first met, to the point that sometimes Kobra thinks bitterly than Ghoul might know Party better than his own brother does, did he come to him? Why did he do any of this?

If a few tears of his own drip down Kobra's nose and land in Ghoul's tangled hair, no the hell they don't. He's never seen anyone go to pieces like this and he's struck dumb at the fact that it's literal. Very, very literally, Ghoul has gone to pieces. Taken a knife, that's probably still lying on the floor of his abandoned-office bedroom, and cut a line through his own cheek just so others might see a smile there.

There's crazy in his veins. Acid, maybe. And Kobra's always known that even if Party recognized it first. Watching your whole family die, failing to save your baby sibling, doesn't leave a person without any scars. Only, now, the scar is far too visible. Kobra's always known that Ghoul is more wild than any of them. Feral, unpredictable. He was raised by a pair of Killjoys who named themselves Hoot and Holler, and the thing is, a ghoul is just a ghost, and ghosts wail too. He should have known.

"I should've known," he says out loud, the first words in a while. He knows Ghoul so well. Better than he knows himself. He should have known something was wrong. He should never have left him alone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He can't even blink. He stares hard at the opposite wall and tries not to scream.

Ghoul shakes his head against Kobra's shoulder and winces. "Nuh-uh," he mumbles. "I'm crazy, man. I'm insane." The fuzzy way it sounds around the stitches and the swelling just seems like proof. Just last night Ghoul's cheek was smooth and soft as he grinned across a table in triumph after winning a card game. How is it that that was just a few hours ago? He shudders again. "I'm scared," he says more quietly.

"Me too," Kobra says. As soon as the sun comes up he thinks he's going to storm out into the desert and find something, anything to beat up. Even a freakin cactus would do at this point. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Pois or Jet but he knows that much. He's gonna shake so hard he blows up, like a can of soda, unless he hits something. "I fucking hate you," he snaps suddenly.

Ghoul starts to flinch away, but Kobra doesn't let him. In fact, he curls tighter around him without even knowing why. "What the hell," Ghoul rasps.

Kobra hisses through his teeth. Speaking of living up to names. He fucking hates anyone who hurts his friends. But he can't say it. Hard as he tries, in the one moment of clarity about his own mind that he has, he can't speak.

"I fucking hate me, too," Ghoul says finally. The single dusty lightbulb above them flickers. If it goes out, they'll be in total darkness. Kobra thinks one or both of them might have a wicked eyeshine by now. The desert makes you wild. For some people, they're born that way.

"I think you're my best friend," Kobra finally manages to whisper. It isn't exactly what he was going for. It's not something he would ever say if he had thought of it before it popped out of his mouth. But Ghoul gets the point. Of course he does. Ghoul always gets his sharp edges, snakebite teeth and misspoken definitions and all.

"I think you're mine," Ghoul says back. "I'm-"

Kobra smacks the back of his head, like this is in any way normal, like they aren't collapsed on a dim bathroom floor in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning and like one of them isn't mutilated for life by his own hand. Like this isn't the worst thing they've ever gone through together. "If you say you're sorry again, I'll cut you myself."

It's rough, and it's torn up and pained and choked, but Ghoul laughs. Just a short bark of laughter, hardly like the dry, rasping cackle that Kobra knows so well. It sounds like agony but it also sounds like the sun coming up. Kobra makes a noise in the back of his throat, more whine than laugh, but he's so close to blowing up that it's as good as it gets. He wants to freaking die if that would keep Ghoul in one piece.

Ghoul shifts in Kobra's arms and pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. He clumsily wipes at the tears and snot all over his face and Kobra has to snap a hand out to catch his wrist before he unthinkingly swipes at the fresh wound and stitches. "Kobra," Ghoul says, shivering in the dark. The sun won't take long to come up once it starts but until it does, the Zones are freezing. "Kobra."

"Yeah, man, I'm still right here." Kobra forces himself to look Ghoul in the eyes and not the stitches. The wound takes up so much of his face. It's all Kobra can see when he looks at Ghoul, his best friend's mutilated mouth, sliced open by his own hand. Kobra flinches just imagining it. He focuses instead on Ghoul's green eyes, boring holes into his head with the desperate pleading in them. "I'm still right here," Kobra repeats, quieter. Reminding himself, too.

Ghoul doesn't blink. Kobra doesn't blink. Their eyes reflect the dim light back at each other. This is what wild animals must feel for each other. Terror. Uncertainty. Just themselves, each other, and whatever comes. Ghoul licks his lips, tongue flicking briefly, visibly, to the corner of his mouth that he cut open. "Don't let me-" Ghoul starts and then falters. "You gotta make sure," he says. "Don't let me- do stupid shit like this, don't let me go crazy again, Kobra, please."

Kobra stares back at him, matching Ghoul's trembling desperation. He's known Ghoul since the day their crew found him, shell shocked between the shelves of an empty gas station with the bodies of his parents and previous crew around him. Perpetually shaking hands and feral bared teeth, animal eyeshine. No one can match Ghoul for determination, and no one knows Kobra as well as he does. Even if Ghoul does know his brother better than him, the same is true in reverse.

Kobra Kid has a hard fucking time ever letting go of anything once he's got it. Fun Ghoul holds on too loosely. They're both terrified. What a pair they make. But when Kobra Kid makes a promise, he means it. He grabs the ends of Ghoul's hair and pulls, not too hard, but hard enough. That's their normal. Play fighting and hair pulling, and they both know it's a kind of language for when they can't speak. "Okay," he says, and because it's a promise, he repeats it. "Okay."

#uhhhh anyway. come to killjoys world with me #I keep calling these two my mongoose and snake #they take out their worst on each other but at the same time it's like they were *made* for each other #also a few notes in the tags: kobra repeats himself a lot. that's intentional. it's because I do it irl #quite honestly at this point I might almost have a stutter?? #anyway also there's a TON of super vague song references in here. I almost called this ''a scar away from falling apart'' #but I couldn't stop thinking about that one boygenius song while I wrote this. would you still love me if it turns out I'm insane? #also the two(2) minor refs to famous last words!!!! #and very very loosely the ''what a pair they make'' line is bc what a catch donnie came up on my playlist right then #also this is WAY more swearing than I would usually write but... it just felt right? like it helped the flow?? and fit the characters? idk #ANYWHOMST. random danger days precanon fic. the girl isn't here yet. #she speaks! #HMMM do I need a writing tag for this blog? #she writes! #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #kobra kid #fun ghoul #K I think I've got it covered #wait trigger tags #self-harm tw #self mutilation tw