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agentplutonium · 4 months

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I'm doing a wip Wednesday to keep my motivated for this wips I'm working on because I'm finally on break and theoretically have the time SO up today we actually have two wips:

An update on my Imp!Milo fic I have in my wips (Imp!Milo loses Sweetheart and becomes unrecognizable)

An update on my 1920's Milo/Sweetheart fic I have going on

All below the cut <3

Imp!Milo

Milo’s vision tunnuled. “Where are you?” “West corridor, they have me surrounded, I’m still cloaked so I don’t think they know where I am, but-” The line crackled, then went dead, and Milo looked back at Asher, who was frozen a few feet behind him. “Sweetheart?” Milo asked. Silence. Milo could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his years, and he tried again. “Sweetheart?” The line came alive again, and Milo’s blood ran cold at what he heard. “Don’t you fucking touch him, do you hear me?! I swear to god if you touch a damn hair on his head-!” Sweetheart’s scream was cut off. There was a humourless laugh, deep and dark, that filtered across the walkie. “Looks like we found your little ghostie,” a voice said, the same person who was laughing. “Say goodbye little ghostie.” “Milo don’t fall for it, I’m fine,” Sweetheart tried to reassure him. “I’ll be fine, stay there, promise me that yo-” There was a sickening crack, and the sound of Sweetheart slumping to the floor. Milo didn’t wait any longer, dropping the walkie and taking off at full speed. Asher called after him, but Milo could barely hear it over the rush in his ears. He was shifted into his wolf form in no time. Milo, don’t be rash, Asher’s voice in his head. Again, Milo didn’t listen. He could only repeat Sweetheart’s name in tune with his heart as he raced forward. Milo, Asher repeated, you need to think this through. Milo growled. Tell me what to do again and I rip you to shreds. My mate is in trouble. Either help me or get lost. Asher didn’t respond, but Milo did hear his pace pick up. Asher pulled up beside him, facing forward. Milo could tell by his stance he’s decided to help him. Whether to keep him from killing himself or because Asher doesn’t want to lose Sweetheart, Milo doesn’t care

2. 1920's Milo/Sweetheart

Sneaks couldn’t focus on anything that weekend, no matter how hard they tried. They had errands to run and were making stupid mistakes the whole time. They meant to get ahead on some of the cases that they had but never could get their mind to focus on what was in front of them. Their last interaction with Milo and his friends played on a loop in their head. “Aww, cheer up, Greer. You know we’re only teasing.” “Greer?” Milo had looked so defensive when they caught on, worry deep in those eyes of his. Sneaks would be too if they were in his shoes. But, this was more than just knowing his father. This was about the fact that Sneaks knew where they heard that name before. There is an ongoing case against Shaw Security. There are plenty of reports of their misconduct, but they were never able to get the suckers. Every investigation led to dead ends where they would have to let the pack member go. Sneaks was kicking themself for not realizing it sooner. David was the Alpha’s son, and Asher was a Talbolt, another family they had been having trouble with. The pieces were there, and they still didn’t put it together. It was almost like they knew, but didn’t want to admit it to themselves. On Monday, they still went through the files, just to make sure. They scoured every offence connected to that pack, heart sinking the more that Milo’s name came up. He was never properly convicted and never had any jail time outside of arrests, but Sneaks couldn’t believe what they were seeing. There were accusations of murder on the papers in front of them. They sighed, rubbing their hands down their face, leaning against the table. Sneaks almost didn’t want to believe it. Milo was just so… there was no way he did what he was accused of, right?

#plutonium_WIPW #i'm literally so excited for these guys #they're such fun fics to be playing with #redacted audio #redacted audio milo #redacted audio sweetheart #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redactedverse #redacted wip

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omegasmileyface · 2 years

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Of All the People - ch. 1

Chapter 1 of the fanfiction that @attackradish and @ectolemonades and I wrote together for @invisobang! Starring art by the esteemed @toasty-ghosti! Their art for this chapter is also posted on their own blog here!

summary: After a stupid dare puts Dash Baxter in the lab at Fentonworks during the middle of a ghost fight, he finds himself a little more spectral than usual. Apparently Danny Fenton's gone through the same thing (someone has got to call OSHA on these guys eventually), and who could better help Dash than his hero? His lame, stubborn hero?

warnings: nothing for this chapter, but later chapters have existential crises and Spectra.

total words: 12k

chapter words: 2231

AO3 link

next chapter

===

Why did Dash agree to this? Fenton Works was fucking creepy, and wasn’t that the whole point? He'd been dared to break in because “that place is spooky as hell,” and here he was, shocked to find it spooky as hell. He should have known the air in the house would be dark and heavy like the middle of a ghost fight, but silent like the grave. He had half a mind to just turn around and walk right back out that front door— which, looking from the inside, was armed? —and go home. He didn’t have that option, though, when the point of the dare in the first place was to prove he wasn’t a coward. Earlier he had let out what Kwan called “an absolute Primadonna screech” while the A-listers were attempting to film a found-footage style fake ghost hunt. He was sentenced to a pilgrimage into Fenton Works in the dead of night to steal something cool from the lab. Now, just the entryway was making him wonder if being a coward was such a bad thing.

Since entry, the house had greeted Dash with breathless quiet. He knew there was all that creepy tech shit in the basement, so why wasn’t there any electric humming? It was like the house had noticed him and taken away any sounds he could have used to orient himself. He had to adjust to it, like when the pressure from an altitude change wasn't quite enough to pop your ears.

A sudden shriek broke the silence, and a shadowy figure burst out of a hall closet towards Dash. His legs burst into a sprint before he had time to think, taking him deeper into the suburban labyrinth. He ground to a halt by a hallway (that he could swear wasn’t there before) and ducked into its shadows to catch his breath.

A peek around the corner revealed no monster. Cautiously, he snuck back out for a better look. Maybe he could make a run for the door? He wasn’t going to die just to prove he wasn’t a coward. Let them show the video to the whole school. Hell, throw it up on national news! Anything was better than getting ripped to shreds by whatever that thing was.

Coast looked clear. As he crept back, his ears strained to make out any sounds masked by his footsteps. Slowly but surely, he crossed the Fentons’ living room. The door was just a couple yards away. He could make it. He grit his teeth, ready to outrun the devil itself, and bolted.

Just an arm’s reach away from the door, a claw snapped shut around his ankle and pulled. Dash fell helplessly to the floor.

This was it. His death was at hand. He would die on a stupid dare in a town that took “dead end” to a new level, offed by some entity whose name he didn’t even know.

…Why hadn’t anything happened? The oppressive silence of Fenton Works beat into his temples. The claw around his ankle slowly felt less and less like a vise. Dash turned to face his attacker… a pair of coats and a vacuum cleaner.

God, he felt stupid. The house lost some of its horror when it was so obviously domestic. He got up, dusted himself off, and turned back to the living room with a renewed sense of confidence.

Once he crossed the threshold into the much darker kitchen, the feeling of dread tickled back up his spine. He rested his hands on the table to steady his nerves. It’s just a house, Baxter. Remember what got you spooked last time? …But what if it’s actually something dangerous next time? And I’m not ready for it? He focused on his breathing. Listened for the anxious thump in his chest. After a bit, he regained some calm.

Without warning, he lost his balance. It was like the table had suddenly moved up and pushed his hand. At a glance it seemed a little taller, but it was too dark to see if the legs were still touching the floor, and Dash knew better than to check.

Maybe the kitchen was a bad place to be right now. Kitchens have practically everything dangerous for humans and just about nothing dangerous to ghosts— at least the lab should have something to defend himself with.

Dash wasted no time trying to escape the room. In his sprint, an open cupboard cracked against his forehead. He staggered backward and nearly flipped over an open silverware drawer. He overcorrected, stumbling forward into the stove, limbs sprawling over the cooktop. He froze at a distinctive t-t-t-t next to his ear— the igniting of a gas burner. The burner opposite his face erupted in a flash of blue. Then another a bit closer. Shitshitshit—! As he jumped away, the remaining burners lit all at once like a fireworks show. He bit back a scream (like that did anything for all the noise he’d already made) and sprinted through the kitchen with arms raised for cover. This house was absolutely haunted! Was it built on an old cemetery? Did the Fentons kill off some forgotten child of theirs? Had they finally pushed the spirits past their limit with their meddling in the paranormal?

Exhausted, his nerves shot, Dash pried open the metal door to the lab stairs and descended into the radioactive glow.

===

Danny hadn't particularly planned on waking up at 2 a.m. because he felt someone break into his house. He especially hadn't planned on that someone being Dash. But an opportunity to torment that pain in the neck with little to no consequence? He couldn't pass that up.

The first few minutes of watching Dash flail around in the dark and attempt to stifle panic over anything and everything were hilarious without any ghostly influence. By the time Dash made it to the kitchen, Danny couldn't resist stepping in. When Dash tripped over the silverware drawer, he’d had to react quickly to hold it and keep it from breaking. The trick with the burners on the stove was quite genius, if he did say so himself. Some ghostly side of Danny was taking a dark pleasure in the way Dash’s fear wafted through his house.

Once he reached the lab, though, Danny had to draw a line. That place was a mess, and even someone wearing protective equipment could be seriously hurt. In fact, depending on how much denial he was indulging in at the moment, he might even say he'd proven the lab lethal.

He only watched Dash rummage around for a moment before regaining visibility on the steps while his back was turned.

"You shouldn't be in the lab unsupervised. You could get hurt down here, y'know."

Dash nearly jumped out of his skin. The ectoplasm sample he was holding fell as he whipped around and threw his hands in the air.

"I'm so sorry I swear–! Oh, Fenton, uh," Dash spluttered, clearly trying to play off his panic. "What are you doing here?" Danny raised his eyebrows at him.

"This is my house, Dash. You were making enough noise to wake the dead," Danny smiled at his own joke.

"Well it's not my fault your family doesn't know how to close cabinets! Hey, shouldn’t you have a gun or something? What if I was an armed robber? What were you going to do, try to fist-fight me? You’d hardly weigh 100 pounds soaking wet!"

"Aw, you care if I can protect myself! How sweet," Danny snarked. "Let's see.” He ticked things off on his fingers as he spoke: “First you break into my house, then you judge my family's kitchen habits, and then you snoop around a lab full of dangerous equipment and manage to break a sample. Which, by the way, you have to help me clean up now."

"Why is it your business what I'm doing?" Dash snapped.

"Once again, this is my house, Dash." Danny sighed. "Whatever, if you help me clean up your mess, I'll give you whatever it is you came here for so you can leave and I can get some sleep."

Dash seemed visibly taken aback by how Danny spoke to him. Danny shrugged it off and went through the motions of cleaning up a spilled sample. Gloves, broom, rag, Fenton Disinfecto spray.

He walked Dash through the process, explaining vaguely how the spray would neutralize any potential ectoradiation in the area of the spill, just in case it was a particularly potent sample. He wasn't sure why he even bothered to explain it, or how he felt about Dash silently following his instructions with a somewhat solemn look on his face. Whatever. He couldn’t sulk his way out of cleaning up the mess he made after breaking into Danny’s house.

Mess cleaned up and cleaning implements properly sanitized, Danny started rummaging through cabinets with more confidence than Dash had.

"So, what were you trying to get? Wrist ray? Fenton Th—" Danny cut himself off with a small gasp at the feeling of cold air sliding up his throat.

"Uh, what was that?" Shit. Danny had hoped he wouldn't notice anything. He coughed, a weak attempt at covering it up.

"I, uh, thought I heard someone upstairs," he said. Dash didn’t get the chance to ask any more questions before there was a burst of green light and Johnny 13 was roaring through the portal.

Oh, just perfect. Danny had held out hope that it would at least be Boxy or some innocent blob, but why would he ever get someone nice at 2 a.m. with his biggest human tormentor in the room? He made eye contact with Johnny, who seemed surprised to be greeted so soon. Danny tried to look scared, or at least shocked, but it was the middle of the night in his own house. Sue him if he wasn’t feeling up to theatrics.

There was something like a ping in the back of his mind, and his attention was drawn to the side, where Dash was backing up away from the portal. He was shaking like a chihuahua, but he kept his movements slow, like Johnny wouldn’t see him if he didn’t move.

Whatever Danny did had to be fast and effective to keep Dash from getting hurt.

Johnny was over his surprise, his green eyes narrowed with determination. This wasn’t the time for an identity reveal, but Danny didn’t have any accessible thermos on him at the moment. Maybe he could find a weapon to force him away? The lab was pretty empty of weapons at the moment, except a Fenton Bazooka lying half-assembled in some work-in-progress “upgrade”. He didn’t trust it. His best bet was the Weapons Vault, 6 or so yards away.

“Hey, Twerp!” Johnny started revving his engine to charge.

Danny tried desperately to communicate don’t you dare act familiar with me or you’ll get a month of Soup Hell after this with a look. He turned to Dash. “Getting weapons. Stay here.”

In his rush, he didn’t wait for Dash’s stunned nod. He bolted for the vault door and hoped he was keeping Johnny’s attention.

===

What the FUCK was going on? First Fenton was acting all weird and nice and bold, and then some vaguely familiar goddamn ghost came out of the vortex, which was apparently some kind of portal just left open, and then Fenton stared the thing down and zoomed off into the front of the room but it wasn’t like he was running it was like he was gearing up, and the ghost wasn’t paying any attention to Dash and how was he supposed to protest? Then as the ghost chased after Fenton, who was off like a wild fucking cat, it started charging some kind of shot in its hand, and Dash had seen attacks like that one too many times watching Phantom fight. He had to cover Fenton’s back somehow, he wasn’t going to be responsible for letting the kid die because of his stupid dare.

His eyes darted around the lab. There had to be weapons around here somewhere, and Fenton was just overlooking them. There! On the workbench. It was big and looked partway disassembled, but it was the green and silver of ghost weaponry and it had an obvious trigger and he had to act fast. He hauled the thing up to his chest, aimed the best he could, and pulled the trigger.

For a second, he thought he succeeded. There was a massive flash of green light and the sound of a small explosion. But then he noticed the shockwave, coming from the gun itself and not its target. And he noticed the pain, blooming out from his chest like he’d broken more ribs than he even had and the broken bones had grabbed up his heart in their claws and eaten it whole. His vision stayed green as he noticed he was falling. And as his head hit the ground, his left leg exploded into pain, taken by the same hungry god that took his heart. He thought he heard a scream through the white noise, and he had no idea if it was his. If his own throat even worked. Then, there was nothing, except the thought that he had predicted his own death a few minutes too early.

#danny phantom #invisobang 2022 #my writing #swagger bishie #halfa!dash #halfa dash au #teddy ghost #check ao3 for more tags!#dash baxter

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daedalmirage · 2 years

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marjoram ♥ marigold ♥ r.e: shari, franz

"But Shari is nothing without Joy."

Mari's response to Franz was flatly conversational: as though announcing the weather outside rather than helping a woman double down on a dejected statement. Her earlier perky energy had faded back into something more subtle, chin dropped into both her hands and lazily kicking her legs as best she could.

"You don't really get it, do you, Franzy? I mean, sure, we could go back down the ghostie possession route or something and say that Joy was really calling the shots for everything Shari did the whole time. I'd believe it, the way they acted in the like, one conversation I had with them both. But Shari and Joy are a package. They're Together Buddies, right? It sounds like I grew out of the age range for that show a long time ago, but you can't have Together Buddies with just one of the buddies. That's not the brand that people know and - crucially? - pay attention to. It's like the really stupid argument that I'm nothing without Tyler originally pushing me to the show by being an ass, or you needing to be sent to a work thing alongside someone else to sell something. It's nothing if there's only one half of the pair- but then even with all that, it sounds like Joy was always the main star of the show."

A shrug, so casual its more just a slow jerk of Mari's shoulders than the defined action.

"Thaaaaat said, I GUESS Shari could always have another Joy whipped up somewhere, but I dunno! Maybe the original Joy was sentimental or something, like Shari made her on the floor outside the door to her audition or something. Problem is though, it still kinda makes sense that Inkyo's the one on the discovery list. Maybe Shari was just sick of Joy's shadow or something. Ooo, maybe the Mark makes you go crazy and just rip the closest person to you to shreds!"

Considering their circumstances, that didn't really sound like a theory to get excited about.

"Anyway, speaking of the Together Buddies, isn't it possible that Shari was just sharing a drink with Joy or something as daft as that? There was some weird stuff going on in the shop, yeah, like some of the items being put back in the wrong places on the shelves, but maybe the vending machine stuff isn't related at all. Kinda tricky without being able to tell who was actually there, I guess."

Her expression cracked into a lazy yet somehow expectant grin.

"Hey, actually, why am I still talking? Bella's trying to lead us into thinking about the car, and Tezuka sounds like he's got it allllll figured out! Thank God for that. Go ahead, guys, floor's yours."

The vibe was exactly that of pushing a poor unfortunate classmate into something you're going to instantly shame them for.

#daedal mirage #prologue #trial #marigold

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man-me--a-sand · 4 years

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Ghosts

Summary: Emma is pretty sure she isnt alone in her apartment

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144439

Characters: Emma Perkins, Paul Matthews, Lex Foster

TW: death, getting shot is mentioned, swearing

Notes: My contribution to the spooky season, I guess? I promise it isn’t spooky as it sounds Thanks to Ella on the saf discord for betaing this for me

And no, I haven’t seen nightmare Time ep 2, but I know theres paulkins, and I know it’s kinda weird

Smash! Emma’s head shot up when she heard the loud crash coming from the kitchen. She hurried over, and there was a pile of broken glass on the floor. The cup hadn’t been anywhere near the edge, so she wasn’t sure how it had fallen.

“Jeez, it’s like I’m being haunted.” Emma laughed. “Hey, whatever ghosts that’s breaking my shit, please stop, this isn’t cheap. I mean, it is cheap stuff, but that’s beside the point.” Emma bent over to pick up the larger shreds of glass. She put it on the counter, far back, but it somehow fell off. For a second Emma could have sworn it was floating, but nah. She believed in ghosts, but this was too far.

••

When Emma got home to see the fridge open, she started to wonder. So, considering she had nobody to talk her out of it, she headed to the Hatchetfield mall.

The short brunette shuffled through the shelves, searching for the dark purple box that would ease her mind. The strange happenings in her apartment were getting a bit too weird for her taste.

A teenager stumbled up to her, barely paying attention as she mumbled. “Hi are you getting everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Emma finally pulled out the box.

“A ouija board, huh?” The teen asked. “Summoning the dead?”

“Yeah.” Emma snapped.

“Jeez.” The teenager raised her hands up in defeat.

Emma stood up, clutching the box. This was stupid. There was no way she was haunted by some vengeful spirit, this was a waste of money.

“Hey, how obsessed with quality are you?”

“What?” The teenager was still standing there. She lifted her jacket to reveal a red toy zone vest. “Yeah, there’s one in the back, the box is all fucked up, but the boards useable. Want it?”

“Why are you offering me this? Are you going to try and say I stole, cause kid, I don’t have the energy to deal with that.”

The girl scoffed. “Are you a dick? If not, I won’t. So, want it or not?”

“Sure.” Emma peered at the girls nametag. “Lex.”

“Here.” Lex shoved the box into Emma’s hands. “I took the liberty of ripping off the barcode.”

“Well, thanks-.” She was leaving. Emma rushed out before she could be accused of stealing.

••

“Alright, twelve ninety nine piece of shit, do something for me.” Emma muttered, sipping her iced tea. “Mr. Ghost? Or Ms. Ghost, or Mx, I don’t care.”

Nothing happened.

“Wonderful. I’m not being haunted, case closed.” Emma stood up, and saw something shift in the corner of her eye.

Shit.

Ok that wasn’t something that actually happened. It was just a trick of the light, or something. Right? Emma took a deep breath. She had never had to prove ghosts existed before, but now was a good enough time, right?

“Hi.”

“So you are.. a ghost.”

Yeah

“You seem pretty casual about that. So you didn’t die a horrible death and are haunting the world as revenge?”

“Ok, final question, what’s your name?” Emma tightened, one thought repeating in her head over and over. Don’t be Jane, don’t be Jane-

Paul

Matthews

“Well, hi, Paul. Can you stop breaking my shit?”

Sorry was trying to get ur attention

“Well, you have it. Because I’m talking to a fucking ghost, I guess.Also bro, if this is some elaborate prank, I’ll kill you.”

Ur a little late to kill me

“So , how’d you die, then?”

Cliche shooting in clivesdale

Emma winced. “Oof, you died in clivesdsle? I’m sorry, bro. Or not? He/him?”

Yes

“Ok.”

Dying in clivesdale sucked ass

“I can imagine. Jeez, Clivesdale. You know, I’d always hoped I wouldn’t die in Hatchetfield, but wow. I would hate to die in Clivesdale.”

Why not die in hatchetfield

“I hate Hatchetfield. Grew up here, spent every second trying to get out. Went to Guatemala right after I graduated, backpacked around, had a lot of sex. I had a girlfriend for a bit, a boyfriend for a bit right before I came back, it was alright.” Emma sighed.

Why did u come back

“My sister. Jane. She had this perfect life plan, followed it to the letter. Except I don’t think dying so soon was in her Lisa Frank binder.”

Im sorry

“For a second I was scared she was haunting me, trying to ruin my life. It would definitely be fair. I never came back from Guatemala, igniting weddings, baby showers, birthdays. I’m quite the piece of shit.”

It’s ok emma

She knew u cared

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that. Anyways, anything I can do to help you out? Stop you from annoying me?”

Ill stop if u get me a whiteboard

“That’s all?” She had been expecting something a little more ghostish. Eh. At least it was easy. “Nothing else? No dramatically burning your gravestone so you can pass over?” Emma said sarcastically.

How do u burn stone

I want to stay

“Well, it’s all right with me as long as you stop breaking my shit, ghostie boy.” Emma stood up, waving at the empty space by the ouija board. “Well, I’m headed to bed. I’ll get you a whiteboard, Paul.”

Thanks

“Don’t watch me sleep!”

••

Emma heard quiet whispering behind her as she left the store with some groceries and a whiteboard.

“Yeah, that’s the guy who always rushes me, and that lady, I gave her a ouija board the other day. Oh, that asshole took forever counting out individual coins for a fourth dollar toy the other day!”

She turned around to see the teenager (taller than her!) who had given her the free ouija board, and probably saved her a lot of money in glasses. Honestly, she could have bought plastic cups, but Emma had never claimed to have an abundance of common sense, and she hadn’t run out yet. The teenager, Lex? waved at her awkwardly, noticing Emma looking at her. There was another taller than her teen next to Lex, but this one was actually tall, and a small girl.

Emma waved back.

“Did you find any ghosts!?” Lex shouted needlessly, considering they weren’t that far away from each other. The teen turned to tall guy. “If I was a ghost, would you still date me?”

“Of course, ghosts are sexy.”

“I have plenty of ghosts following me around now, thanks for the board.” Emma said, walking away.

“Funky.”

••

Emma dropped her bag of groceries in her doorway, waving the whiteboard around. “Ghost Paul? Did I hallucinate you, cause I got your whiteboard.” She uncapped the pen and held it out, holding the board away from her.

Shaky lettering appeared on the whiteboard.

Thank u

“No problem, ghost boy.”

You're nice

“Sure.” Emma laughed.

Can I stay here?

“I guess you can keep.. haunting me. Cause that is already happening.”

Thanks

“So, what tv do you like? Wanna watch Netflix with me?”

---

If you’re wondering, Emma’s next endeavour would be getting a ghost to pay rent. I hope you liked it! Either way, have a nice day/night!

#The paulkins isn’t really romantic #but eh they blur the line #paul matthews #emma perkins #lex foster #paulkins #black friday #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #starkid #sand writes

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hoeiplier · 5 years

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i havent written anything in forever, gomenasai ~mod ghostie

jackie/sammy featuring anti

TW // DUB-CON, TENTACLES, BLACKMAIL, UNEDITED AS FUCK

Jackie bit his lip as the slimey tentacles dragged themselves over the town shreds of his suit. Red and blue leather falling apart, exposing his toned body. Heated skin becoming stained with the oozing green slime the monster secreted.

It started out easy enough -- take down Anti’s pet, fondly named Sammy, and keep the citizens of this city safe from it’s grips. Jackie had just about done it! Grimacing as Anti laughed heartily atop of the city’s abandoned warehouse. His gleaming eyes cascading down on his pet monster wrestling the hero to the ground.

It all became a fast blur as Anti said only one request.

“Sammy, pounce.”

...Which lead to the scene now. The near cartoonish eyeball monster spouted more tentacles. His slime becoming slicker as Jackie struggled to grip. Hoping to fly away to a safe distance, but those damned tentacles held his quivering body down.

"You -- You bastard, just knock it off! You k-know I’m gonna win--fuck,” Jackie groaned. Anti smirking devilishly, his eyes watching as his dear pet Sammy set to work on his newest trick.

Jackie could feel each tentacle rip at his suit, soothing his worn body, touching at his inner thighs, just beneath his ass, even reaching up to caress at his cheek. Touching him like no single person has in a while. His heart racing as Sammy’s tentacles reached further down his now completely nude body. Panting with hesitation and want.

“H-Hey, Anti...c-c’mon. G-Get him to...to...fuck--”

“Oh, he will alright.” Anti replied with pride, “maybe a nice good fuck will get you to lay off our backs for a while.”

Jackie could barely reply. His briefs being pulled clean off his lower half as his semi hard cock throbbed in the cool air of the warehouse. Biting his lip once more, holding back the moan he didn’t dare let slip. Knowing it’d only be what Anti wanted.

Sammy only blinked, it’s once angry gaze now a soft glance. Almost bored as it’s thinner tentacle reached up to play with Jackie’s cock. The soft underside of it’s tentacle runs up along the length. Jerking it slowly, drawing out pre-cum in just the first few moments of it’s teasing touch.

“Fucking...Anti--”

“Aww, what’s a matter, Jackie? Big bad hero high strung? You’re already leaking. What, none of those pretty ladies and gents you save everyday give you something in return?”

Jackie lets his head fall back, eyes closed shut, his body moving in motion with Sammy. Letting his legs open as a thicker tentacle runs along the back of his knee, teasing at his entrance. Already so worked up in so little, maybe Anti was right...

“Show him a good time, Sammy, don’t rough him up too much.”

The monster purred, before letting the tentacle slowly inch inside the hero. The slime helping it along the ring of muscle. Two extra tentacles holding Jackie’s ass cheeks open. A completely lewd sight for the villain above.

“Shit--!” Jackie finally moaned. The tentacle curving up slowly inside him, rubbing against his inner walls in the most perfect of ways, the other rubbing along his dick -- teasing his leaking head. It was all...so...so

Perfect.

Amazing.

Everything he needed -- pleasure crashing on him. His body so use to the abuse crimefighting had on him, nearly melting at the first sensual touches it’s had in months.

Jackie arched his back into the tentacle around his cock. Mouth finally opening in a long drawn out beg for more. His thighs quivering as Sammy lifted him up higher in the air. As if presenting the hero. The tentacle sweetly fucking into him. Bright green slime oozing out around his hole as Sammy fucked him thoroughly. His body giving into the pleasure, his ass held nicely spread out as the monster had it’s fun with him.

Anti smirked.

It was a sight to behold, Jackie -- the city’s own savior -- now being fucked like a common whore. Begging to be filled, touched, dominated. Complete opposite to his usual dominant attitude.

“Fuuuuck, Sammy--” Jackie moaned, his body bouncing at the sheer pace the monster went. Skin slapping against skin, his cock throbbing harder and harder in Sammy’s grip. The soft squishy underside of the tentacle wrapping so warm and tight around his cock, jerking up and down, the end of said tentacle running under his foreskin. Teasing the sensitive spots along the head, all driving him closer and closer to the edge.

His ass jiggled with Sammy’s efforts, a lone tentacle spanking his toned ass as it fucked him harder and harder. Making sure to hit his sweet spot deadon almost every time. The tentacle not like the others -- much more firmer, bigger, making Jackie’s eyes roll back as it fucked into him. Pleasure shooting throughout his body as the tentacle thrusted in and out of him. Still spanking at his cheeks as it went along -- leaving his ass as red as his suit.

“Good boy, Sammy.” Anti chuckled. A long drawn out cry coming from the hero. Eyes closed shut, body twitching as he came. Cum shooting from his cock, dirtying Sammy and his appendages, clenching around the tentacle inside him. Chest heaving as he rode his orgasm.

The warehouse seemed as quiet as it had been before the two fought. Jackie still enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm, his blue mask just barely hanging onto his sweat drenched face.

“You’re good at being fucked, you’re good at begging, hell -- even good at moaning...” Anti walks along the warehouse’s upper level, where he’d watch the whole ordeal from. Three blinking red dots in front of him that Jackie hadn’t noticed before. Suspiciously reminding him of cameras...

“Let’s see what else everyone’s favorite hero is good at, hmm?” Anti cackles again. Jackie losing all thought as the tentacle around his dick let go. Still dirtied with his own cum, entering his mouth. The hero giving in, why not? When will he get treated this well ever again?

Jackie groans -- letting the tentacle reach down his throat, pulling back in and out. Fucking his face properly as another reaches up to pull at his hair.

“Good boy. Sammy,” Jackie gives in, mumbling around the tentacle in his mouth with pleasure. The ones inside him slowly start their pace from before.

#I FORGOT MY TAGS SFKJKGHAKJFAGH #mod ghostie #Superhero Boy #Glitch Bitch #tentacles

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dvp95 · 5 years

Text

quiet on widow’s peak (1)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter & total) summary: Phil's got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story. Bingo squares: met on tumblr

new wip? NEW WIP.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

The wind is loud in this one. That's frustrating, and it makes Phil's job a lot harder, but he can't control the weather. Be cool if he could. He does his best to level out his voice and the background noise of Mother Nature before he settles in with his good headphones and really cranks the volume.

It's even more annoying to listen to the alternating crackle and whistle right in his ears. Phil has dealt with worse during this whole process, though, so he finds the strength to power through it. He listens to the full thing three times, scribbling a few timestamps down on a Post-It pad as he does. He takes a break after that, does some stretches around his tiny bedroom and tiptoes out to get a snack without waking the whole damn house, and then he's right back in his apparently ergonomic office chair to subject his ears to more of this nonsense.

Wind, wind, and more wind. And sometimes just Phil's own voice. Nothing of note.

Phil is about to give this video up as a loss altogether when he hits one of the final timestamps and... can't figure out what that noise is.

For the first time since he opened this file, Phil grins. He exports the clip and plays around with it in Audacity. Some videos are always more fun than others, and Phil had felt like he was slogging through this one until now.

"Do you hear that, Theodore?" Phil murmurs. The tiny cactus on his desk, thankfully, does not respond.

It sounds like a person. It sounds like a person, whispering, and it definitely isn't the wind, and it isn't Phil's own voice, because he's in the middle of a question in this clip.

Phil might just be going crazy from sleep deprivation or wishful thinking, though. He pulls out his phone and texts the only group chat that doesn't cause him anxiety, which is comprised of the housemates that he actually gets along with. Anyone up? he asks, adding a single eye emoji for good measure.

Even though it's gone two in the morning, he gets immediate responses from all of them. A string of vaguely dirty emojis from Chris, a simple yeah from Sophie, and a cheerfully morbid did you know that insomnia leads to an early death? from PJ.

Wanna listen to a noise for me?

Within three minutes, Phil's bedroom is full of people in various states of sleepiness. All of them are in ridiculous pyjamas - including Phil - and PJ's hair in particular has taken on a mind of its own. Phil's room isn't really big enough for all of them, so there's some awkward shuffling before PJ claims the office chair. Phil sits at the foot of his bed with Sophie and Chris on either side of him, pressed close against each other's shoulders. It's a good thing he likes these people.

"I mean, it isn't the wind," is PJ's confident opinion. "Did you have anyone with you?"

"No, it's just me and my camera against the world," says Phil.

"No need to be a twat," Chris informs him. He taps at PJ's upper arm, impatient. "Let me have a go, then, if there's something there."

Chris is famously bad at hearing things in white noise, but PJ acquiesces the seat easily enough. Phil laughs, watching them do a weird step dance around each other in the small space between Phil's bed and desk.

"I can't hear any specific words," PJ says as he flops down across Phil's pillows, making himself comfortable. Phil just nods, because neither can he.

"How d'you know it's a person, then?" Sophie asks. Her voice is probably the only one soft enough for the hour. Their other housemates hate them for their frequent all-nighters, but Sophie is kind and quiet enough that she slips under the radar.

"You'll see for yourself."

When Sophie goes to respond, Chris interrupts in a hilariously loud voice, as if he's forgotten that having headphones on doesn't mean they can't hear him. "It's some kind of ghoulie or ghostie! I can barely fucking hear it, Philly, why didn't you mic it?"

"Why didn't I mic the ghost?" Phil asks, bewildered. Naturally, Chris doesn't hear him.

Sophie taps Chris on the shoulder and stands, leaning over his shoulder as she takes her turn listening to the sound clip over and over. Chris spins in the chair a few times and gives Phil an unhinged sort of grin.

"You got something this time," says Chris. He sounds like he's having just as much fun as Phil is, now that there's actually a thing to listen to besides his own voice and the loud, loud wind.

"I think so," says Phil. "Why didn't I mic the ghost?"

"I'm saying it would make your job a lot easier if you mic the ghost, yes."

"If I could mic a ghost, I'd be a millionaire."

"Then you better get on it, eh?" Chris laughs, spinning a bit faster. Phil has never seen the man sleep. It's a little bit worrying.

"Sure," Phil says, giving up on trying to teach any logic to someone who's clearly long lost their hold on it. "Next time I spend all night in a graveyard, I'll mic any spirits that might be hanging out."

"Shut up," Sophie tells them, mild.

Chris mimes zipping his lips, wrapping an easy arm around her waist, and PJ laughs.

For the first few months they all lived together, Phil had struggled to keep up with whatever dynamics were going on between the three of them, but he's long since given it up as something he's not going to understand.

After a moment of quiet, Sophie nods. "I hear it," she tells them. Even with the headphones on, she's quiet. "It's not words, I wouldn't put any subtitles over it."

"Yeah," PJ agrees. "Just let your audience duke it out in the comments like they always do."

"Thanks, guys," Phil says, feeling a sort of warmth sink into his shoulders. He notices that Chris is pulling up another application and half-heartedly protests. "Chris, you don't need to edit this one for me. I still haven't paid you for the last video." Or the one before that. Or the three or four previous. Phil has it written down somewhere.

"Don't be stupid," Chris hums, already clicking around erratically. It makes the editor in Phil want to scream, but he has to admit that Chris manages to find more weird visual stuff to isolate than he could on his own.

"I feel bad," says Phil, chewing his lip.

"I've told you," says Chris, "you can pay me back in chores and sexual favours."

PJ's slippered foot knocks against Phil's hip, and he grins brightly when Phil turns to him. "You know, I do have a bit of a laundry backlog."

"Funny thing, that," says Sophie.

Biting back a laugh, Phil shakes his head. "Alright, alright. Everybody leave their laundry in front of my door tomorrow."

"That's a no on the beej, then?" Chris asks, raising a single eyebrow and pointing dramatically at Phil. It has been near two years of this, and Phil is still too afraid to ask if it's a joke.

It's not as if Phil's answer would change if it wasn't a joke, because he's not interested in Chris, and he's especially not interested in becoming entangled in whatever nonsense his housemates have gotten themselves into. But, still, he might be kinder about letting Chris down if he were being genuine.

"That is a no," Phil confirms. "But I will wash your pants."

"Kinky," says Chris. He turns back to the screen and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture. "This is pretty shit. You know that, right?"

Yeah. Phil does know that. It's getting harder and harder to have the same optimism in every video that he'd had when he first started recording his wanderings around the supposedly-haunted places of Rossendale. He'd brought the camera with him when he left, but might have left that optimism behind. Phil only kind of believes in supernatural things - the way he only kind of believes in giraffes or true love - but it's been more fun than anything else to pick up a camera and try to find some evidence.

He's been doing this since he was nineteen, though, and he's getting a little bored by the formula of it all. Go into a haunted place, try to communicate with the spirits, pick up some garbled words or creepy noises, highlight visual oddities like orbs, and let the internet tear it all to shreds. Honestly, he'd have more fun making proper horror at this point in his life.

Phil shrugs and pulls his knees up to his chest. He wants to hide away from the sympathy in Sophie's eyes, from Chris' blunt words. "Yeah. I'm getting kind of... I don't know. Restless."

"Maybe you should ask people to submit things again," PJ suggests. "That went well last time."

It had, actually. Phil had needed to sort through a lot more ridiculous stories and obvious hoaxes than usual, but he'd found some nuggets of gold in all that hay. Or however that saying goes.

"People did like having their stories read out," Phil says slowly. "I'd just need to be extra sure that nobody's, like..."

"Ripping off r/NoSleep," says PJ.

"Yeah, exactly."

"We can help," Sophie says, and Phil could cry at how easily PJ and Chris agree with her.

He really doesn't deserve to have such great people around him. They've got work and lives of their own, but they're always happy to spend time crowded around Phil's computer listening to weird noises together. Phil sometimes wonders what they get out of it. Do they just like helping him, the way he has fun holding the boom for PJ's films or testing Sophie's concoctions? Or are they just as fascinated as Phil by the weirdness of it all? Do they want to see the cool instances of paranormal activity, too? At this point it feels nearly impossible to ask.

"That's going to be a lot of washing pants for me," Phil sighs. He doesn't know how to thank them, not when they always just wave it off.

"Sure is," says PJ. "But you should... ask the audience!"

"Your Chris Tarrant is pretty good," says Phil, only a little surprised by it. PJ's voice is as much of a tool to him as the rest of his body, and it's one he's always been skilled with. The impressions still tend to catch Phil off guard sometimes.

PJ tips an invisible hat. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week."

At his friends' not so gentle encouragement, Phil makes a few posts on his socials to ask his followers for new creepy things to explore. It might be the middle of the night in Brighton, but he has a feeling that Chris isn't leaving his desk until he's found every instance of an orb or strange shadow in the fifty minutes of currently uncut footage.

It seems like Sophie is on the same page, because she excuses herself to make tea for everyone. PJ leans over Chris' shoulder and watches the clips without sound, his lips moving as if he's murmuring to himself.

Sometimes this feels more like a group effort than Phil is comfortable with. He's never been very good at asking for help. As grateful as he is, he still itches with the need to take back control of the situation. He uses the slow trickle of fan submissions to distract him from that feeling, because all three of them do make his videos better when he stops being so possessive over his footage. Phil flops onto his back and scrolls through the incoming emails, tweets, and Tumblr messages to see if there's anything promising.

For the most part, the answer is a resounding no. Some things are blatant lies - there are countless ripoffs of films or novels that Phil happens to be familiar with, a few things swiped from creepypasta or subreddits, and his usual amount of conspiracy theorist fans insisting that some high profile person or other is a lizard - but most of it, to Phil's dismay, just doesn't grab his attention the way he wants it to.

Sophie comes back with tea and snacks. She leans her head against Phil's shoulder and watches him cycle through his apps, fact-checking idly and sighing every time something easily proves to be a hoax. Her hair smells like coconut and she makes a soft humming noise every time she lifts the mug to her lips. Her presence alone, small and warm and supportive, is enough to keep Phil from throwing his phone across the room and having a right sulk about how his career is in a tailspin because nobody makes ghosts like they used to. At some point in the night, Sophie's breathing evens out to the point that Phil thinks she's asleep, but then she reaches out to tap a tiny finger to his screen.

"What's this, then?" she murmurs.

Phil has been zoned out entirely for at least fifteen, and he blinks back into reality. There's a new message in his Tumblr inbox, one that seems like it must be over the character limit for asks. He must have submissions turned on or something, that's the only possible explanation for an actual essay being sent to him. It's barely broken into paragraphs with very little punctuation and no capitalization, and Phil has been staring at screens for far too long to try and parse this on his own.

"Can you please make sure this isn't, like, the entire Bee Movie," Phil asks, handing Sophie his phone with only a slight twinge of anxiety. He trusts her not to go snooping, but. Still. "I need to pee."

"Mhm," Sophie hums, already apparently lost in whatever stream-of-consciousness has been dropped into Phil's inbox.

The floorboards in this old Brighton house creak, and Phil has always envied some of his housemates for being able to sidestep the noises. It doesn't seem to matter how long he lives here, how much he tries to avoid making any noise, it's like the floorboards are determined to creak under Phil's weight. He winces as he passes two bedrooms whose occupants surely don't appreciate creaking outside their doors at such an ungodly hour.

At least he doesn't run into any walls this time. The nightlight in the bathroom at the end of the hall is the only thing lighting Phil's way, and he tends to stub his toes on absolutely nothing in this kind of semi-darkness.

When he makes his - very, very creaky - way back to his own room, he's bewildered by the scene that greets him. PJ and Chris have joined Sophie on his bed, and all three of them are poring over Phil's phone as though they're looking at a map to the Holy Grail.

"Hello," Phil says slowly, closing the door behind him. It creaks, too. "You aren't going through my pictures, are you?"

"No," Sophie and PJ chorus without looking up.

"You got nudes on here or something?" Chris asks with a mild sort of interest, clearly also too engaged in Phil's phone to put his all into the flirting.

"I don't," says Phil. It doesn't sound convincing, even though it's true, and he waits for Chris to tease him about it some more. When he doesn't, Phil has to admit that he's curious. "So I guess it isn't a meme or something?"

That makes them look up, in almost comedic synchronicity. Sophie blinks a few times, as if she's coming back to herself. She holds out Phil's phone and shakes her head.

"It's not a meme," she says. "And near as we can tell, it's genuine."

Phil joins them and takes his phone back, adjusting his glasses. His bed really wasn't made for four people, but his housemates have never had any personal space amongst themselves, and Phil isn't one to say no to human contact when he isn't getting it anywhere else.

The message is just as hard to read as it was at first glance, but Phil puts his brain to work. If his friends are reacting like this, it usually means he's in for something good.

hi ok so the thing is that this is completely ridiculous and i dont think its what youre looking for at all but theres a building near my uni thats got a ton of stories around it and it only started happening like this year like it isnt an old obviously haunted type of place but theres a lot of weird shit that goes down there so i found all the references to it online that i could and ive summarized them here (w/ sources ofc im not a dick) and its all just this side of strange so it seems like the sort of thing you might be interested in ok here we go SO

And it goes on like that. Phil feels his eyebrows raising as he clicks the provided links in the following walls of text, which are exactly what they're advertised as. Not a single rickroll in there. Just a handful of posts on Reddit and Facebook and independent blogs about various experiences people have had with a particular abandoned building in -

"I know this place," Phil says, surprised. He looks up at PJ's grin, Sophie's wide eyes, Chris' palms rubbing together in exaggerated interest. "I've been to parties here. Well, okay," he corrects himself before his friends can do it for him, "I've gone with Martyn to parties here and left early."

"Yeah, it isn't far out of Manchester," PJ hums. He bounces in place a bit, like he's suddenly energized enough to go jump on the soonest train up north.

"It didn't seem that weird," says Phil. "It's been a few years, I guess, but it wasn't even that scary."

"Sounds like it's only just started, though," Chris pipes up.

Phil isn't sure how much he likes that. The idea of a place he's been a few times, half an hour from his childhood home, being so suddenly full of haunted activity feels... weird. Still, it's catching his interest in a way that nothing else has in months, so.

"I'll look into it some more tomorrow," he decides, glancing at the time. His brother is probably still awake, to be honest, but Phil doesn't want to be that guy asking 'hey, do you remember the Wilkins place?' before dawn has even broken. Again. He has definitely done that sort of thing in the past. "I'll have plenty of time while I do, what, seventeen loads of laundry?"

"Something like that," PJ laughs. "Want us to clear out?"

As nice as the company and help has been, Phil still feels a rush of relief at the concept of being left alone again. He nods, still scrolling idly through the Wilkins place submission.

It hits him, very literally, too close to home to ignore. He wonders if his fan knows that, if this is somehow an elaborate prank that will end up just wasting Phil's time, but he's too curious to leave it alone. He'll just have to ask around, see if anyone else has heard these murmurings.

Til then, maybe he ought to try and get some sleep. Phil's computer, still open on the editing software, tempts him.

Well. What's another couple hours at this point?

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #qowp..... mayhaps i made a mistake w this title......#quiet on widow's peak #YES it's another marianas title what are you the marianas title police?#bingo

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mauriooo · 4 years

Note

Tell us your OCs. I. Have. Intrigue

oh okay um-

first off here’s a link to the masterlist

second a quick explanation of all my non-fandom ocs’ universes i guess? putting them under a cut cos they are LONG… sorry if you just wanted a brief summary of the characters themselves i just saw an opportunity to info dump about all the worldbuilding i’ve done and i took it

the universe with all of the animal ocs (Skye-Inklii on the masterlist) is definitely my most worked-on universe to date cos of all the semi-connected stories in it, the complexity of the world, and the pantheon i’ve kind of come up with? basically it takes place on a continent that has yet to be named but it’s a big place in the middle of an ocean called the Sparkling Sea. the continent is divided into multiple “Kingdoms,” all surrounding the Royal City (where the most important families live) in the middle of the continent. these kingdoms include the Ocean Kingdom (basically a huge gulf connected to the Sparking Sea filled with water-dwelling people, who aren’t mermaids but do have gills and stuff along with the general frame of land-dwellers) and the Smoldering Kingdom (formerly a prosperous matriarchy that was a hotspot (hah) for trading, next to a volcano. almost completely desolated by a conflict commonly known as the Brushfire War, with Ka being the only survivor. residents here were often confused for actual fires from afar, considering their particular subspecies often had small flames all over their body, which could not be snuffed out.). the Royal City is surrounded by an area known as the Outskirts (working name), where people like Skye, Pine, and Lavender who didn’t really have any particular elemental traits of any kind or came from a different kingdom lived. this area is known for having a bustling market and a diverse populace, unlike the other kingdoms whose residents almost always look similar. also there’s a royal family in the Royal City that rule most of the continent (each Kingdom has their own government but really the royal family is up top). the royal family has a royal scientist (undertale influenced a bunch of this ok), currently Hawthorn, previously his father Bramble. Bramble did a bunch of bad stuff so I’m not gonna dwell on him. garbageboy stinkman belongs in the toilet

the universe with Hazel and the ghosties is a universe where basically it’s almost the same as real life but magic, ghosts, demons, and angels exist and it’s not as technologically advanced (phones exist but color tv does not and people don’t rely as much on technology) Hazel and Michael/Virus both have some angel and some demon blood, Michael having more demon than angel and Hazel with vice versa, both having wings of some sort due to this. both their parents are basically human but their descendants (from a time where demons and angels were free to walk the earth) had children with demons/angels and some of those traits got passed down. it’s very rare to pass down traits from one of these entities (about 1 in 1,000 for just one) but Ezekiel/Chance got very lucky and got a little of both, compared to his siblings Cassidy/Jinx and Lisa/Boo who got nothing (but after becoming ghosts Jinx did get some demon traits and Boo got some angel traits). not all ghosts are friendly so those with an affinity for locating the undead are hired to exorcise houses and whatnot, called “ghosters.” Michael was one of the more famous ghosters and so he’s commonly called upon to help in areas, so he and Hazel traveled a lot. i should also mention that with certain rituals one can summon a ghost to help with something (finances, love, etc.) but it’s very hard to pull off (to stabilize a ghost and keep it from returning to the afterlife you have to make a very special necklace from specific gemstones depending on the ghost, and one for yourself to make sure the ghost can’t hurt you and it has to obey your orders (although you can free it to do what it wishes if you want)) anyways there’s a really dangerous demon that broke free from a seal placed on it hundreds of years ago commonly referred to as the Stalker, the Nothing, and things like that. Michael unknowingly accepted a job to rid an abandoned house in a quaint little town of this thing, and brought Hazel with him. it uh… didn’t go well :D this thing HATES angels cos a half-angel sealed it away so it attempted to kill Hazel because she bears a strong resemblance to the being that sealed it away. Michael didn’t like that so he barely managed to seal it away for a few more years but got like,,, a LOT of vital organs ripped out in the process. this, understandably, traumatized Hazel cos that was her last living family member being ripped to shreds in front of her so she went back to the town where she, first, scared 99% of the population cos she was DRENCHED in blood but then she got cleaned up and sent to a nearby orphanage where she was immediately adopted by a p mean family cos they thought she could summon a ghost to make them rich? she ended up summoning Virus (who didn’t recognize her cos ghosts lose most of their memories except for their moment of death, Chance is an exception), and then Jinx, Chance, and Boo all at once cos they died within a few minutes of each other. this took a hard right into backstory territory so imma move on

Gardenia and Ashe live in a world where, rarely, children will be born with their souls basically attuned to an element of nature (often with different subclasses) or creature. these phenomenons are called elementals and mutants, respectively. even rarer, however, is a child being born as both. Gardenia was born without eyes, with the left side of her face being just smooth where her eye should be and the right having a, well, gardenia growing in the place of an eye. also when she bleeds small flowers grow in the wound, which was assumed to be a sort of defense mechanism to plug the wound. because of these, when she was born, she was designated a plant elemental of the flower subclass. ashe was born part-fire elemental, part-salamander mutant. they both ended up at a school specifically for elementals and mutants where they could learn not to destroy things, which is where these two met in about 7th grade? they stayed friends since then and eventually fell in love (even if Gardenia couldn’t see Ashe, she loved her personality and her voice). probably the only universe with no murder so far

Meredy and Connor are robotic entities known as “mechae,” Meredy being made to entertain while Connor was made to fix. these entities were mass-produced to help humans in a futuristic society. they are made with 6 chips: Empathy, Ethics, Functionality, Memory, Intelligence, and Personality. if one of these chips break the entire mecha basically breaks and has to be recalled. Nikki is just a reclusive mechanic who works with Connor because xe saved him from being scrapped after faulty wiring and a broken Functionality chip were discovered upon his activation, causing him to frequently experience small shocks that either overload his system and shut him down or just make him unable to move for a few minutes. Nikki is trying to fix him up but for now just hides him from the public because xe doesn’t want him to be taken away from xir. Meredy is just a broken entertainment mecha whose Functionality and Ethics chip went haywire during a performance, causing uh... not great things? no one died but they got p injured cos metal is heavy and she ran away, eventually getting to Nikki’s shop after they met in a back alley while Meredy was hiding and Nikki was fishing for parts. that’s basically all i have for now

oh christ where do i start with the zodiacs. okay lady fate got sick of having to look after EVERYONE after they died so she basically chose 15 random people (1 for each zodiac sign except for Gemini and Pisces, who got 2) and made it so when they die (mostly by unfortunate circumstances) they go to a special place in the afterlife where every dead person is called their Dominion (i. e. Aquarius Dominion, Taurus Dominion, etc.), and every person in this world goes to the Dominion corresponding to their zodiac sign where the corresponding Zodiac... doesn’t exactly rule over them but controls the Dominion in a way? they basically get to decide what everything looks like and stuff and they get to live in a big ol mansion with everything they could ever need. all of the Dominions are spread in a circle around a central area known as the Hub where people from different signs can intermingle. the entire area has this neat little feature where once you die and get there, any physical ailments are gone. couldn’t walk while you were alive? well now you can! missing one or more limbs? you can choose to get cool substitute limbs made of sparkling ether that function like normal limbs! were you experiencing gender dysphoria in life? your new body fits your preferred gender! finally, you get a necklace or other piece of jewelry that designates your sign so people can tell what you are! i haven’t worked on this world as much cos i didn’t have too many ideas at first but i really like it :o

Endris and Kyu are demons under service of the Demon King. Endris is a demon species known as a Kahre, a genetically engineered soldier race, but his test tube broke and it was too dangerous to put him in a new one so he’s just smol and ended up as a personal servant to the king. Kyu is a Senru, a general/advisor race, who’s like... a giant suck-up. he mostly refers to Endris as “defect” unless he’s saying that Kyu needs to go speak with the king for a bit because then he’s all sunshine and rainbows. there are also the Erina, small scientists and doctors, and Wisps, tiny lil servants that are often formed when a new soul enters the Underworld. i really liked designing all the demons for this universe and i’m prolly gonna make more uwu

Carrie and Zade just live in a normal world? like they could totally be real people in real life and their stories wouldn’t change. Zade, who is Carrie’s best friend since they were toddlers, is a trans guy, so he was having all sorts of anxiety when he had to explain to her why he would rather not be called the name she’s been referring to him as for 10 years. she was definitely fine with it though. as long as he’s happy, she’s happy! but Zade started transitioning in like 8th grade so most other people weren’t as nice cos middle school sucks, and Carrie was basically his only friend for a while. Carrie eventually figured out (mistakenly, i might add) that she was the reason Zade was getting bullied so she assumed that if she was gone he would be happier and have more friends so uh... she did a self oof? her assumption was wrong, obviously. but people did leave him alone for a while to let him grieve.

sorry for the dark turn at the end? but yeah that’s a basic explanation of most of my original universes \ ( -ワ- ) / if you have any questions feel free to ask! also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if i’m being offensive in any way in any of these??? i really don’t want to offend anyone but i’m an idiot so yeah i probably screwed up a lot

#mauri speaks #mauri answers #floralianspiderboynova #ocs #my ocs #mauris ocs #came up with a lot of this on the spot :D #didn't want to disappoint #but also did want to eventually come up with location names #this took a really long time i hope you're happy #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw implied suicide #tw implied transphobia

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