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little-pondhead · 3 months

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The Folly of Men -

Chapter 1: #355E3B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[Fair warning, guys: Canon is a ball pit, and I’m throwing a baby into it. I have no clue what's happening. Feel free to point out mistakes!]

Danny was starting to hate the color green. It was the color of death.

Green reminded him of the portal that killed him, and the electricity that was constantly humming under his skin. It reminded him of being on the wrong end of an ecto-blaster and having to dodge for dear life. It reminded him of choking plants that swallowed him whole and tried to turn him into fertilizer. It reminded him of his glowing eyes and how they seemed to take up his entire face when he looked at himself in the mirror.

And right now, as he lay weakly on his side, grasping at fresh wounds with shaky fingers as he tried to ice them closed, the green blood that was splattered everywhere reminded him he wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

Green was a familiar color to Ra’s al Ghul. It was the color of life.

Green reminded him of the Lazarus Pits, mostly. When it was the reason he’d lived such a long life, how could it not be the first thing he thought of? Green also reminded him of his cloak and the warmth it wrapped him in during the cold desert nights when his wife was still alive. Of the beauty he saw in the natural world and why he wanted to protect it. It reminded him of his green eyes that have been passed down through his very few children and grandchildren. Green was the color of the al Ghuls and represented the power he’d amassed through centuries of hard work.

And right now, as he stood before the Well of Sins, Ra’s was reminded of a secret contract that was buried deep within his personal records, and the monster he’d made it with. The Gardener, the creature called itself, was a being who had crawled out of a Lazarus Pit years ago in search of Ra’s. Its flesh was made from thorny vines and grasses intertwined, and its eyes were tiny red blooms that glowed and made him feel sick just thinking about it. It had forced him into the contract, exchanging power and knowledge in return for a promise of help in the near future.

‘Near future,’ my ass. Timothy Drake's fleeting voice flickered in his mind, and he could only agree with his subconscious's crude words. It seemed like the only appropriate term as it had already been several centuries since the contract was made, and the being had yet to claim its part of the deal.

He watched, mind racing, as the Well of Sins started swirling frantically. He was alone, with his attendants on standby. Should he call them in? No. Whatever was causing the strange reaction in the pool had something to do with that contract. He could feel it. A power was tugging at his heart, drawing him closer to the edge of the green waters. He loathed to admit it, but this was beyond his scientific understanding. He just knew that every time he tried to look away and leave, his whole body felt like it was alight with flame.

So he stood. And he stared. For hours, possibly, before the first sign of something new caught his attention. A screeching sound was echoing from the bottom of the pool. It slowly got louder and higher pitched as the stone floor started glowing so bright Ra's almost risked the pain of glancing away.

A large head was making its way through the bottom of the pool. It went slowly to accommodate large shoulders, followed by a wide chest and narrow waist. The figure paid no mind to the churning of the Well of Sins and broke the surface of the waters with the ease of a seasoned swimmer. The screeching sound echoed wildly, bouncing unnaturally throughout the chamber, sounding more like incomprehensible words. Ra's wanted to plug his ears with wax and banish the figure back where it came from. Instead, he didn't even twitch an eye.

The Gardener stood before him. And it was carrying a body.

"Master of Lazarusss," it hissed, inclining its head in acknowledgment, but making no move to exit the pool. "Too long has it been, has it not? I've come to collect on my part of the deal."

Ra's nodded in return. Higher being or not, he refused to bow to anyone. "I've expected this, Gardener." He said roughly. Despite learning their language years ago, the sharp chirps and clicks made by the dead were difficult to sound out. It was like he was trying to mimic a broken radio. "Although it's taken longer than I expected for your arrival."

The Gardener clicked its beak in annoyance. "Don't give me flowery words, Pretender. It was not my choice whether to appear before you or not. The Scepter of our realm visited me long ago and commanded me thus; I only now see her vision behind it."

"I...see." He did not see, thank you very much. That was more information in two sentences than he'd ever managed to get from the Gardener. Were there others at play in this little contract of theirs? He did not like the idea of that. "And I assume this whole thing has something to do with the boy in your arms?"

The Gardener let out a low humming sound that seemed to originate from its chest and echo in Ra’s bones. It glanced down, turning the body over gently to let Ra's see his face. The boy was just a child, no older than sixteen. He was deathly pale and seemed eerily stiff, just as if rigor mortis had set in. His white hair was plastered to his forehead from the water, and his clothes were nothing more than rags. Thick green blood was leaking from several wounds and pooling underneath his skin. It wasn't hard to guess what the Gardener was about to ask.

"This is our Guardian and one of the last of his kind. His haunt is not safe anymore, and I task you with his care for the foreseeable future."

Without waiting for a response, the Gardener sloshed forward to set the boy oh-so-gently upon the edge of the pool, taking care that his thorns did not pierce the child. A few vines cupped his face gently as if the Gardener was sad about the boy's state of being.

The assassin made no move to step forward and claim him. "What iske?" He asked. Ra’s voice caught on the last syllable, and he had to repeat the question again properly. Annoying.

The Gardener didn’t seem to mind and just stepped back, relinquishing its hold completely. "He is our Guardian." It repeated. "Care for him well. His fraid will be on the hunt for him and return any harm tenfold. But earn his loyalty, and the power of the Infinite Realms will be at your fingertips. Good luck, Master of Lazarus."

With that, the Gardener disappeared beneath the waves of the Well of Sins, and the waters calmed. The only proof that someone had been there was the sopping wet teen that lay at Ra's feet.

Ra's stared at the boy. The tugging in his heart was a bind, he realized. And it was tying him to the boy. Well, caring for a dead child shouldn't be that hard. Despite his disagreement with Talia over the matter, Jason Todd had turned out just fine, hasn’t he?

With the contract heavy on his mind, Ra's turned and left the boy lying there, clicking his jaw and calling for his attendants to collect him. The Lazarus Pits had gifted him with a new heir, it seemed.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

In another world, a redheaded girl was on the edge of a rampage. Her scream echoed down the suburban street her house was on, and the neighbors sighed quietly and locked their windows shut, not realizing the severity of the question. They were used to this family's antics, and the girl's screaming as a result.

But this could not be written off as 'family antics.'

Jasmine Fenton, nicknamed ‘Jazz,’ was positively furious. Red-faced, she stood before her parents with steam coming from her ears and a bat in hand.

“Jazzy-pants, we-” her father tried.

“Nope!” Jazz put up a hand to stop him. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it. I already know.”

She whirled around, tuning out her parents' protests as she stormed through their house. Correction, her parent’s house. If she had her way, Jazz would never see these metal and unloving walls ever again. Neither would her brother, once she found him.

Her phone rang, and she flipped it open with a snap, leaving the bat at the end of the hallway. Only a few people had her number, and it sure as hell wasn’t her parents calling her. “What.” She barked, shoving the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug through Danny’s closet. His bug-out bag hadn’t been moved.

“It’s Tucker.”

“We have a code green and a code yellow.” She ground out. Good, the ecto-dejecto shots were up to date. The less time she spends in that god-forsaken lab, the better.

“Fuck.” Tucker swore. Rustling was heard and she heard another voice in the background. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

Jazz re-packed the bag quickly, adding in some non-essentials that she knew Danny would appreciate. After it was settled on her shoulders, she switched the phone back to her hand for a better grip. “Is Sam there?”

“I’m here.” The girl responded.

Jazz tripped over her bedroom carpet in her rush to her room. She cursed but recovered and started ransacking her closet and drawers. “Good. One of you needs to contact Danielle. Our parents sold Danny out, and the GIW took him while I was gone yesterday. I’m going ghost and getting him back. Tell Danielle she’s in danger since they have her ecto-signature now.”

“We’re going with you.” Sam said firmly. There was more rustling, and Jazz guessed they were looking for their own emergency bags. “I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll get him back.”

“Are you going to shut down the portal?” Tucker asked.

Jazz paused, considering it. In the original plan, Danny was in charge of shutting down the portal while Jazz and the others took care of the Fentons, GIW, and everything else. It was personal for him; his final resting place. But now that Danny was missing, and they needed a reliable escape route.

“Not permanently.” She decided. “I’ll figure out how to turn it off temporarily, or put a shield up, but Danny will need to be the one to make that call.”

Tucker started typing furiously on his laptop, muttering under his breath until he got to the file he wanted. “Sam and I will take care of the town defenses, and Dani’s on her way from New Zealand. She’ll be here in a few hours. I’m sending you a bug; plug it into the Fenton’s security systems, and it’ll lock them out of the house for now. Only do it after you’re done in the labs. Sam’s gone off and is pulling some strings to get all the ghosts in town back to the Zone. I’ll start tracking Danny and shutting down all the Fenton and GIW equipment I can find.”

“Thanks, Tucker. I’ll meet you guys at Nasty Burger in two hours; pass that message to Danielle.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Jazz?”

“Yeah, Tuck?” Jazz started counting her hidden wads of cash, making sure it was all there. They never wanted to believe the Fentons would go this far, but she was glad they’d made contingency plans just in case.

She could hear Tucker’s silent snarl as he said his parting remark. “Leave enough of them behind for the rest of us.”

Jazz laughed, a little hysterical. “I’ll try.” She said, bidding him farewell. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure she could look at her parents ever again. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if they tried to stop her, there wouldn’t even be ashes left from the hell she would raise.

Gotham was caught in a storm. It was one of those ugly, howling summer storms that threw water in your eyes and bit your skin with a vengeance. Damian squinted, trying to make out the sight of Spoiler and Signal through the rain, but even their bright uniforms were lost in the shadows.

He tightened his grip on his grappling hook as a particularly harsh wind tried to throw him around like a ragdoll. Water seeped into his collar, making him shiver. A beep echoed in his ear, and he risked taking one hand off the line to answer his comms.

"Robin," Oracle was practically shouting in his ear over the storm. "Signal made it to the Cave. Spoiler is rounding up Condiment King, and then she'll do the same. You can go back now."

Damian tsked. "Father is still out here," he replied. "I shall not return until he does."

"Robin-" Oracle sighed.

Another gust of wind made him grunt, and he cut the call to refocus on scaling the building. The only good thing that came from such a wild storm was that most of the villains were smart enough to stay inside. Splitting up in such conditions always left a sour taste in his mouth, but Damian understood it was necessary to cover as much ground as possible during times of emergency.

He wasn't sure this counted as an emergency, but Todd was certainly treating it as such. The citizens of Crime Alley were being hit hard. Enough to the point where Red Hood had openly invited the Bats onto his turf to help with the flooding and evacuation from some unstable buildings. Batman and Red Robin had gone, leaving Robin and Orphan to cover their patrol routes.

Finally, finding purchase on the rough brick, Damian quickly hauled himself up to safety. Some of his equipment was ruined, and his costume was soaked. Truly, this storm had come out of nowhere.

His comms clicked back to life. "Robin." Cain's clipped tone was somehow louder than Oracle's voice.

"I'm here," he replied, scowling at the oily mud on his shoes. Damned pollution.

"Home," Orphan said simply.

Damian scowled even harder. He could argue with Oracle without issue, but he barely won when it came to speaking with Orphan. "...Fine." He sniffed. "I shall return."

"Good." Damian could hear the smile in her voice. "Agent A has cocoa."

"I'll consider it." He said stiffly. He imagined his adoptive sister smiling slyly and glancing toward the sky before the comms switched off, leaving him to his thoughts again. After checking his grapple to ensure it still worked, he started picking his way through the building at a snail's pace, letting himself get distracted whenever he spotted someone in trouble. The Batcave would be warmer and dryer than the streets, but not everyone had a dry place to return to. Every little bit helped in the long run, and even Damian wouldn't pass by a lost child in the rain.

The only thing that bothered him more than the dark clouds overhead and fresh hail on the way home was the unnatural feeling on his spine. It felt like someone was watching him, judging him. But when he looked, nobody was there.

The stars were gone.

Danny felt weightless as he floated, staring at the space where the stars were supposed to be. He felt lighter than normal. Danny was surrounded by colors that flowed and ebbed like the tide, taking him deeper into this mysterious space. Golden fish and silver deer wove past him as fire and ice trailed behind, and yet he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get up. He just laid there silently. A bone deep exhaustion was settling into him, but sleep refused him.

“Ghost Child.”

Oh, Danny was dreaming. He was already asleep.

He didn’t turn his head, nor acknowledge when the stars returned to his line of sight. The stars wrapped around him like a curtain, cutting off the rest of the dreamscape. Two bright eyes, burning like red giants, peered down at him as thin hands cupped his body.

“Ghost Child.” The voice repeated again, speaking in his mind even as the words were swallowed by the silence of space.

Danny turned his head slowly. “Nocturn,” he murmured. These too, were snatched from his throat and lost. The cold seeped into his chest and he hiccuped. He couldn’t speak. Not that he really wanted to.

Luckily, Nocturn seemed to understand him just fine. He cradled Danny gently, bringing him closer to his chest. Something shifted in the fabric of space, and suddenly Danny was being laid to rest on the smooth stone of a crescent moon, as pearly white as his own hair. He sighed as the coolness of the moon seeped into his body, soothing aches and burns he didn’t remember getting.

“Where are we?” He wanted to ask.

Nocturn blinked slowly at him, his face twisted down towards Danny. His ram’s horns glinted as a glowing blue jay landed on them and started preening itself. Danny wanted to fly with the bird. His body didn't move.

“Sleep, Ghost Child.” Nocturn hummed. The moon vibrated beneath Danny, soothing the electric currents that kept him awake no matter what he did. Danny’s eyes started sliding shut as Nocturn’s song wrapped around him like a lullaby.

The others… Danny’s mind whispered.

Are safe. The song replied. Rest, young guardian. Your people are safe. You did well.

That was all he needed to hear. Danny let himself fall into slumber, relief flooding his mind. Yes, his people were safe. He did well. He deserved some rest.

As the young ghost fell into a dreamless sleep, a real sleep, Nocturn gently tucked the boy in with a blanket made from his own starry robes, shifting the fabric once more to hide away his core, and the boy who was resting on it. The bluejay on his head chirped indignantly from the movement and flew away, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

Nocturn paid it no mind. Warnings from Fate were never a good idea to ignore, but the bird was but a memory of a life that had long since passed. It only stuck around because of the dreams that kept feeding it. The ghost let his lullaby continue as he returned to his work, taking care to move slowly.

Undergrowth was taking care of his physical body, so he would care for the boy's mind. Vortex was off to round up the little ghostlings who had scattered like dandelion seeds, and the Master of Time was keeping an eye on the rest of Phantom's fraid while they rampaged in the mortal realms. After the stunt he pulled to protect the Realms, it was the least the elder ghosts could do.

"Is the boy awake?" Ra's asked sharply, entering the private rooms he had set aside for the boy.

The attending nurse, an older man born with no tongue, bowed his head and signed, 'No, sir. Vitals are off. He is a cold corpse.'

Ra's regarded the boy. It has been several weeks since the Gardener dropped the boy off in his care, and he hadn't awoken once throughout the entire time. He truly looked like a regular dead teenager, if you exclude the unnaturally white hair.

The Demon's Head bent over the boy's bed, tugging open an eyelid to see if he would react. Nothing. However, he noted the boy's eyes were green, which he was mildly pleased about. Green was such a lovely color, and this boy seemed surrounded in it.

A sharp knock echoed from the door, and Ra's granted the other party permission to enter. His best phlebotomist, a man named Paz, entered, holding a stack of papers as thick as his thumb. He bowed to Ra's as soon as he saw him.

"The results?" Ra's asked.

Paz immediately handed over his work, fully confident that Ra's understood everything he'd written. "For all purposes, the boy is dead." He said in a thick accent. He spoke in halted Arabic, as he'd only lived in 'Eth Alth'eban for a short time. "He has no circulation. No heart to move blood, or lungs to breathe. We must move him every hour to prevent postmortem lividity. He has undergone an extensive autopsy process, but it seems it was stopped before his brain was removed. No organs remain in his body otherwise.”

Ra's examined the papers. They were reports from different scientists and doctors, all of whom had been assigned to examine and work on the boy. Most of them said the same thing. The boy was dead and had been for a while. If the Well of Sins didn't do anything when he first exited the waters, what good would it do now?

He flicked his eyes up. "But you think otherwise," he stated.

Paz nodded enthusiastically. "The boy is dead, but his blood is alive!" He tapped a green folder that was poking out from the bottom of the pile. Ra's shuffled the papers off to the nurse and opened it. Printed off charts had been scribbled over with Paz’s frantic notes, documenting his thought process.

The phlebotomist rambled excitedly as his boss read his work, gesturing wildly. “It’s incredible! Most of his red blood cells have died off, and he has an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicate some kind of infection. But his plates-“

‘Platelets.’

“Platelets,” Paz nodded his thanks to the nurse for correcting his speech. ��The boy’s platelets are still alive, and are actually trying to heal his injuries! We recorded a time-lapse last week to confirm it. The process is incredibly slow, even compared to human healing, but there’s a difference! Because of the absence of red blood cells, the plasma left in his body has practically doubled in volume, even though there’s no circulation to keep it moving. We’ve noticed a collection of stem cells at the base of his skull has started growing as well, and whatever it’s producing is being released into the body at regular intervals.”

“What kind of cells are they?”

“Unsure. At first, we thought it was cancerous in nature.” Paz tapped the corner of the folder again, prompting Ra’s to turn the page. “And while these cells are certainly growing as fast as unchecked cancer, rather than doing harm, we’ve taken samples and noted that they’re merging with whatever original matter has been left in the boy’s body. Bonding, like glue! The healing process is periodically speeding up with every release, the plasma has started circulating on its own, and the white blood cell count is diminishing. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s filling in for everything that’s missing, and keeping what is there, alive. Dr. Vanessa hypothesized that within the month, it may even start replacing the boy’s organs.”

Ra’s looked up from the research. “These photos look like plant cells, is this an example or actual recordings of the activity?”

Paz wrinkled his nose. “Those are evidence of the activity. For some reason, cellulose is present within his body, and the mysterious stem cells seem to be a mix of both plant and animal matter. It’s hard to track even with our technology, but it looks like the cellulose is forming a sort of…skeleton? Frame? I’m not sure what the right word is, but Dr. Vanessa says they might start regrowing in another month. If that’s true, this would be a huge breakthrough in the realm of organ transplants and other medical fields!”

The Demon’s Head hummed, flipping through the work again and considering the man’s words. “Very good,” he praised. Paz beamed like a child at his words. “Unfortunately, I shall be releasing you of your duty, and your tongue is too loose for your head.”

“What-“ Paz’s eyes widened as he gurgled, his words cut off. Ra’s twisted his wrist, driving home the dagger he’d planted in the man’s heart. He had no use for men who talked too much.

Paz fell to the floor, convulsing as he tried to weakly remove the weapon still sticking out of his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went pale as his blood seeped out onto the floor.

Ra’s barely spared the dying man a glance, taking back the extra stack of papers from the nurse and neatly stepped around him to exit the room. “Clean that up,” he said over his shoulder.

The old nurse bowed his head, waiting patiently for the foolish doctor to finish dying before he got out the mop.

This is why the nurse had survived so long; he knew how to stay silent.

[Nocturn tucking Danny in to rest. Ghost speech says, "Rest well, ghost child"]

#pondhead writes #the folly of men fic #dpxdc #long post #really long post #no beta we die like Danny #I rewrote this three times #this was gonna be longer but the plot got away from me so we're doing more than one part now #the whole point of this is to get me back into writing more so i guess it's working??#i literally did so much googling for this #even watched timeline videos but i'm pretty sure i'm still wrong #literally what is dc lore anymore #i'd rather learn about kingdom hearts lore at this point #literally I am summoning all of my brain snails to bring this together #not medically accurate!!!#I am not a doctor I just took biology twice

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yandereunsolved · 3 months

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Clip A Hummingbird's Wings - ,, yandere James's s/o tries to escape

cw(s): yandere themes, semi-graphic gore, suggestive themes

☾ He hadn't killed you yet, but he will. You two had such a good thing going. He stalked you through the hotel and fell madly in love with you. You stayed unaware and gave him perfect views into your body and soul. You just had to go and do this. You just had to go and try to escape. Now he's dragging your body into a torture chamber and strapping you onto a metal table.

☾ He is still madly in love with you. He's getting drunk off of those terrified faces you're making and how your features contort into unending petrification. He may even be a little excited that such a delicate bird like you tried to fly from their cage. It gives him a chance to try some more of his extreme methods to make you submissive to his words and will.

☾ You won't be in peace for many weeks to come. The times you are visited by James are filled with 'reprogramming' as he has coined it. This is a mix of torture and praise. He keeps you on high alert constantly. You don't know whether he is going to choose to take you on the table once again or ruthlessly dig his favorite knives into your skin, so you know how he felt when you tried to leave him.

☾ Naturally, he first broke your legs. It is for the 'reprogramming'. You need to be dependent on him. You need to be nothing without him. Don't worry. He won't allow them to heal incorrectly. He won't allow them to heal at all. He threatens you with cutting them off and then killing you. It would be so romantic. You wouldn't be able to act like the Countess. You'd have to depend on him to carry you everywhere. ♡

☾ He starves you of food and his attention. He makes you eat from his hands. He makes you eat from the utensil he is holding. Oh no, sweetheart. You have not earned the right to eat at the table with him again. You will be eating on the metal table. Perhaps if he is feeling generous he will unstrap you and allow you to sit up. If you spit at him or refuse, you'll only make it infinity worse for yourself. No more food for you. The Countess is now delivering your food. As much as she detests James, she hates it more that he's found someone he truly loves. So she manages to be even worse than he is.

☾ He breaks your mind by allowing the addiction demon to be your constant companion. He soaks in your tortured screams as his hand fiddles with his belt. As much as he'd love to indulge in his carnal needs... he'd rather just use the lovely companion he has in the torture chamber. It'll give you a reprieve from the demon. He gets to hear you beg for him and his body. It's like falling in love with you all over again.

☾ He injects you with many different drugs. He paints you with many scars from his most beloved tools. It felt like years before your pain finally ceased. In reality, it could have been just days. James came in to the torture chamber and whispered 'I love you, darling' into your ear. He cut your neck wide open so you would have a matching neck wound. As the life leaves your eyes he presses kisses all over your face. He gropes your body and moans. 'We will be forever together. There is no escape now.'

☾ You awake in his bed with a new pair of sleepware on. You look so pretty and cute. You touch your neck and the slit is there. James can't get enough of it. You tried to escape and now he has you forever.

☾ James taxedermied your dead body. He thinks it's the greatest thing he could do for you. He keeps it next to the 10 Commandment jars. Your body even gets its own glass case. No disgusting chute for you. His love deserves so much more.

☾ He doesn't allow you out of his sight. If you stray too far from his side he summons the addiction demon to terrorize you until you come back. He makes sure that you are so utterly pathetic and lost without his constant attention and care.

☾ He's still very paranoid that you will find someway to escape. He makes sure every guest that enters the hotel doesn't have any affinity for the dark arts. He makes sure no holy people come in either. The last thing he needs is your soul being saved. He needs you here for all eternity with him. If you try and beg for help with other guests he only drags you back. He pulls you into his embrace and gently tsks you. He treats you almost like a bratty, disobedient child. He secretly loves when you're bratty. He loves an excuse to punish you.

☾ You are under his control at all times. Yet, you also have such a control on him. The mere absence of your presence causes him to go on a murderous frenzy. In the lack of your absence he seeks out the Countess for some hate-filled companionship. He has canceled his monthly dinners with the Countess. Something new arises. A sort of punishment from your previous escape that has now made James addicted. You are all in the dining room but the Countess has to watch as he toys with you, makes out with you, plays with the pretty little throat slit he gave you. He doesn't allow her to say anything to you. He just makes her watch. He makes her watch so that he is able to get revenge. As I said, this was originally about 'reprogramming you'... now it is just a greater payback, and an erotic payback at that.

☾ You are able to use that small amount of control over him to get anything you'd like. Your freedom? No. Space or privacy? No. The greatest luxuries and lavish goods one could wish for? Yes. Behave and he'll offer the world to your hands. You may even be able to talk with a guest or two— if he's allowed to stay by your side in his invisible ghost mode— and he gets to brutally slaughter them after.

☾ It'll take over a year for you to gain any semblance of his trust back. After that, you have a better chance of exploiting him and possibly escaping through exorcism or attachment to someone's presence. You will get more freedoms and responsibilities within the hotel. Does that mean he's gonna leave you alone? Not even a little. He may just leave for a few minutes to commit another massacre of guests.

☾ You may have lost your chance to ever escape at after 2026. The hotel is now a historical landmark. They will never tear it down. The place is ever so popular. People go just for the possibility of getting murdered. And oh? James is even more possessive of you as the hotel gains popularity. These swine have come to see his beautiful god(dess)!? They have come just to see if they are able to help you escape? 'Darling, you cannot leave anywhere without me. It's not safe. They want to take you from me. I will not allow it! There will be no arguments on this subject matter! Understood?'

☾ He does not allow any of the other ghosts around you. You are completely isolated except for him. If one or two of them try to pity you they are tortured and scared out of spending time with you.

☾ He contemplates binding your souls together. It's a risky ritual. It would require a talented witch or warlock. It is the process in which you and your soul mate conjoin your souls through time and space. Through every reincarnation you both will find each other. Even if you do not remember you will be tied together. It is a manipulation of fate considering you already had a soul bound to you. James was infuriated when he found that out. He is more likely to do it even more now. He can't have your soul escape, and you find whoever it is that your soul is bound to. You belong to him! Him only!

☾ He treats everyday with you like it is your last. He constantly showers you in praise and love. He allows makes you watch his killings. He is just so utterly obsessed with your presence. He makes it so you would never want to leave. Right? Darling? Dearest? Love of my life? God(dess) of everything in my life?

☾ If somehow all of this didn't manage to move your heart and you still wanted to escape, he would be devastated. He would resort to begging on his hands and knees and sobbing. It would be quite out of character for him. Can't you just see that's what you do to him?

☾ He will do anything and everything. He will make you his forever. He will go through with the soul binding ritual. He will kiss away all of your attempts at anger. He will soothe your need to lash out. He will practically be floating in the heavens. You are his, forever. You are his even after death. In the next lifetime he will have you. He will have you in the lifetime after that as well. It makes his dead body flush. His desire for you just continuously grows even though he has you for all life and eternity.

☾ You'll never truly escape his presence. You'll never truly leave this hotel. Even if it crumbles and the world caves in— he'll pass on with your lips locked together, his hand in yours.

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ronanxing · 5 months

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some turts at the skateboard park

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #enkidoodles #omfg i rewrote the tags three times #its awfulll #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #they make me so happy #checking the values saved my life

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katasstrophy · 1 year

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Bruh Nagi being buff as hell after Manshine's training 🥰🥰🥰

sammy you deadass bout to make me objectify this man on main SO BAD this has been running something of a small marathon in my head so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls accept my humble word vomit

cw. [n]sfw. mdni. pro player! nagi + aged-up characters. bit of body worship(?) you ride his abs. nipple play (m. receiving). subby nagi (but he's actually a switch >:) + some fluff bc he's so baby :(

note. a bit rambly oop soz it’s bc i went insane. i describe how he looks like to ME (re: hot as fuck) but i guess y'all can read it too hehe<3

1.4k words -> how could you ever hope to keep your hands to yourself when nagi's body looks like that.

i feel like unless you have prior knowledge of the fact that nagi is a pro athlete, from a cursory glance, your first thought upon seeing him wouldn’t be “hmm i bet that dude is built like a brick house.” it doesn’t help that nagi’s basically the unofficial king of athleisure — his closet’s chockfull of loose-fitting hoodies and sweats. he barely owns anything else besides those monochrome hooded tracksuits (and sportswear for practice, i guess he’d need some of that too lol) because he claims it’s the only outfit that gives him unlimited access to just lounge about basically anywhere he pleases. it’s what he genuinely finds to be the most comfortable style for him as well. but if you’re fortunate enough to get a peak underneath the layers of baggy clothes? dear god nagi’s built like a fever dream. amen you’ll eat so good then he’s a whole ass feast.

i’m gonna brazenly speak my truth here so don’t come for me >:( but! from what you’d consider to be “a typical footballer’s physique”, purely from that perspective, nagi’s legs are… not that impressive. his stagnant motivation has much improved ever since he committed to making a career out of soccer, but that doesn’t mean his slacker tendencies haven’t followed suit. don’t get me wrong, he still puts his all into every game so his legs are still very much capable of making your mouth water, but you won’t catch him sprinting up and down the field at full speed if he can help it. packed with lean muscle, his thighs are thick, calves well-defined with a few bold veins thinly zigzagging down the taut skin like a lightning strike on the occasion you happen to catch him after a particularly gruelling conditioning session. but compared to some of his teammates whose legs seem to be carved from iron, he’s a bit.. overshadowed.

it’s a fairly similar story with his arms. (i promise i’m not just talking shit lol i could NEVER my poor meow meow it’s gonna get so hot in a second i swear just bear with me!!!) again, it’s most definitely a drool-worthy sight. the stretch of his arms is long and sinewy, rolling with a set of generous biceps that flutter under the gentle scrap of your fingerpads and nails when he (totally intentionally) flexes the swell of muscle there. in his profession, he mostly uses his arms for balance and to create distance between himself and his opponents. buried in his private nook back home, he has a tendency to hold his phone above his head while playing mobile games — that blissfully only rarely come crashing down on his face — but his unrivalled favourite will, of course, always be enveloping you in his arms <3

nagi’s not the most expressive person, but his subtle social cues become much easier to pick up on whenever he’s sleepy, which let’s be honest is almost always. he’s in dire need of a snuggle in those moments and not only loves, but craves being close to you physically, his face a canvas of huffy evidence of what a Big Deal this is to him if you learn to read the hidden hints (it’s a pursed, pouty frown nine times out of ten he ain’t slick lmfao). he kind of regards your presence as his “recharging station” what a cringe fail soggy loser man i adore him with my whole heart 🥹 his lanky limbs will snake around you with the security of a vine until you’re all cosy and wrapped up in each other, his hold bearing enough strength to not budge against any playful escape tactics you might attempt — at least not until he decides he’s had his fair share of quality snuggle time with you.

nagi’s a practical man, however — the world doesn’t call him a lazy genius for nothing. for these, albeit lovely, purposes, he determined there’s absolutely no need to overexert himself by lifting weights to buff up his arms. he can get by just fine! there are definitely more jacked arms out there i’m sorry :(

but here’s the kicker. nagi’s tall. you could even say he’s huge — he’d tower over most people if he actually straightened his posture for once. so his muscle mass kind of stretches out a bit… unevenly throughout his body. he does have muscle mass though, plenty of it, actually, and he needs only to do one tiny little thing to remind you of it: lift his shirt up.

it’s a subconscious, everyday thing for nagi to toy with the hem of his cotton tees. his fingers often grow restless if they’re just lying about, so playing with the material of his clothes is not only stupidly ready at hand but also helps to soothe the itch brimming along his fingers to do something with them. in the process, you’re rewarded with glimpses of his stomach often when he involuntarily ends up exposing the skin clinging to those hard planes. but what’s objectively worse for your sanity is when nagi comes trudging into the kitchen to ease his thirst. he never bothers with a glass from the cupboard, just swoops down to drink from the open tap, his adam’s apple bopping rhythmically as he swallows. there’s water coating his lips when he rises, a few droplets still running down his chin that he tugs on the ends of his t-shirt to lazily wipe away. it’s an innocent endeavour to him, but a sinful display for you, as it essentially shows off his entire, deliciously shaped midriff. nagi might slack off in other areas, but his core strength is insane. his torso is like a gift from the heavens, chiselled after the image of their gods and heroes. don’t even get me started on his abs.

because i cannot stress enough how perfect nagi’s abs are for grinding your sweet, drooling little cunny on :( the ridges of muscle packed together at his abdomen are firm, but twitch almost uncontrollably when you slowly drag your cunt up and down the sculpted slabs of his stomach that bump against your poor, swollen clit in a way that makes you delirious. your thighs bracket his waist as you move, his waist that is so trim and almost tiny compared to the broad stretch of his shoulders. you can feel the coarse, light hair of his happy trail graze against your bare ass, leading to his heavy, stirring cock still confined in his sweats for now as you continue to leisurely rut your pussy down his abs, leaving a slick mess behind. the hard cut of his v-line is so prominent a thin contour of shadow clings to the underside of it.

nagi wishes desperately that he could help you, that he could sink his fingers into the plush of your skin and push you down along his abdomen to accelerate your high, dictate a more intense pace for you by his hands and make you take it, but he’s too busy being a moaning, blubbering mess underneath you to take initiative. his large palm lies dormant at your waist, the other tangled in his snowy, sweaty bangs so he doesn’t miss even a blink of the intoxicating vision you present above him. he’s drunk on every salacious sound that comes tumbling from your lips, every wanton contortion of your gorgeous face as the lewd squelching of your pussy fills his ears. his defined chest is flushed red from arousal, shuddering with shaky exhales as he all but devours the sight of you — he thinks you using him for your own pleasure is so fucking hot.

if you want to turn him into an utter wreck, whining like a bitch in heat, please please play with his nipples :( paw at his pecs all needy first, ‘n don’t be afraid to grip the flesh with the blunt of your nails. he’ll mewl about it, but you only need to shush and praise him, tell him how good he looks like this for you and he’ll behave. pinch at the pretty pink of his pebbled nipples, gently circle his areola with your tongue, sucking on the bud and nagi will lose his mind, might even cum untouched :( but that’s okay because he’s so turned on his refractory period is barely an issue, he’ll sink into your tight, sloppy walls in one go and fuck you absolutely senseless on his cock. it’s all you can do to scramble for purchase with your trembling fingers, marking up the milky expanse of his broad back and mouthing at his collarbones to stifle your near pornographic keens and cries as he mercilessly splits you open.

in conclusion nagi seishiro is built like a wet dream and i want him carnally </3

#i rewrote this like three times so i’m just releasing it into wild now bc i’m sick of it lol!! i retain my right for this to be sucky hehe #haven’t written anything in a hot minute but if this causes at least one (1) person to short circuit my job here is done #nagi smut #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #—bllk.thirsts!#—riv.fic!

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droodlebug · 7 months

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my phone camera is tje bane of my existence anyway wyll and blight. theyre in my brain

#droodles #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll #wyll ravengard #durge #blight #oc #ocs #i am not a writer writing makes me anxious. i rewrote the single sentence there like three times #bc i could not settle on a way i thought wyll would actually phrase that sentiment #my brain is made for pichers not worbs ✌️

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analogwriting · 3 months

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Star-Crossed

Chapter 8: Hart

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.2k next

A month went by. Things were returning to normal at the hospital. It was business as normal, no pop up visits from your father. Corazon stopped coming by, which you expected. He did threaten you with a gun, after all. He also seemed to have zero trust in you now just because of who your father is - which is exactly why you had taken a different last name in the first place. To avoid natural distrust just because of your namesake.

You also found yourself missing his little visits. It was always a breath of fresh air to see him standing in your lobby or doing something stupid. It always put a smile on your face and he just made you feel so at ease. Hell, you didn’t even see him outside of work. It seemed whatever game Fate had been playing, she was finished with it.

Even the receptionists seemed to miss him. Not only were they unable to see their real life soap opera playing out in front of their very eyes, but they did enjoy his company. He was always so kind and polite to them. You heard that he had also brought them some flowers once.

You even overheard Law talking about it with Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin. “I just don’t know what happened,” you had heard Law say, feeling your entire body freezing. He was just around the corner from you and you knew that you shouldn’t be listening, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were almost holding your breath to make sure that you didn’t make any noise.

“Really fumbled that one, honestly,” Penguin said, folding his arms and shaking his head.

“He was so into them. Now he won’t even talk about them. I tried to ask and he just shut me out.” You could hear the concern in Law’s voice. “It’s all so irritating.” He clicked his tongue.

“You don’t think the doctor rejected him do you?” Shachi asked, gasping and covering his mouth.

“No, I don’t think so. I would’ve had a moping Cora to deal with. Not…whatever the hell this is.” Law sighed. “He honestly hasn’t acted like this in a long time.”

“Maybe a new factor came in we didn’t know about?” Bepo suggested. “Something that could be a deal breaker?”

“I don’t know. There didn’t seem to be anything that happened that could’ve done that. I mean, all that happened was that y/n’s dad showed up and-”

Bepo gasped, covering his mouth in shock with whatever revelation he had. “Do you think their father threatened Cora?”

Law scoffed, shaking his head. “Definitely not. Even if he tried, nothing scares him. At least not like that.”

The four of them shared a collective sigh and you took that as your cue. You rounded the corner. “Hey, boys.” They all jumped, looking at you with wild eyes. They were in such a state of panic that you had to keep yourself from laughing.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “What? Did something happen?”

“No, doctor!” They all chimed, scattering in different directions. Well, Shachi and Penguin ran right into each other before scittering off. You watched with amusement, but couldn’t help but think about what Law said.

Had Corazon really been that into you? You didn’t understand it. You didn’t see it, but you supposed they saw more from the outside looking in. Pain settled into your heart and you just sighed. This was no time to be sad about it. You had a hospital to run. Besides, you didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself to keep the disappointment at bay.

“Code Magenta.” A voice boomed over the speakers. Your eyes widened and you immediately began to run through the hospital as panic set in. You heard a couple of people ask what that meant as it’s a code not often used and especially not on this side of the hospital. You heard a few people just brushed it off, saying it’s just a special code for you - which wasn’t completely wrong.

Code Magenta meant that there was a life threatening emergency involving a child on the underground side of things. You only had this code one other time in the years that you’ve been in this hospital. The child had been involved with a domestic situation. You were able to save her and provide safe passage for her and her father out of that lifestyle. You occasionally received letters from them, updating you on things.

The last time you were barely able to save the child, you just hoped you’d be able to this time as well. You also knew that you wouldn’t have to worry about your hospital because Marco would step in while you were away. You could have your full attention on whatever the situation was.

And it was terrible.

A child was caught in the middle of a crossfire. A deal gone wrong and for some reason, they had brought their child. This is why you hated the fact that this lifestyle included their children or indoctrinated them at such a young age. There were plenty of ways to prepare a child for such a lifestyle without putting them in danger. You hated the lifestyle and wish children weren’t involved in any way, but such was life.

You immediately went into surgery. You spent hours just trying to keep this kid alive; removing bullets, sewing them up, mending broken bones, everything. You did everything in your power to help this kid.

But it wasn’t enough.

The wounds were too great, the child too small. Most doctors would’ve declared him a lost cause the moment they laid eyes on him, but not you. You didn’t care how little of a chance he had of surviving, you were going to do everything in your power to try. After all, if you had that kind of thought process, you wouldn’t have been able to save Law all those years ago or the other small child that ended up coming through here.

Because of that mentality, your hospital mortality rate was incredibly low - you’ve only lost a few patients over the years. However, that mentality was also a double edged sword. Due to the fact that you cared so much and were so determined to defy odds, it also completely destroyed you every time you failed. You blamed yourself for not being good enough and that it was your fault they died. Which wasn’t the case, it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could, but it always took you a minute to see that.

Marco also knew this. When he was trying to come up with some excuse for Robin and Law as they asked questions to what Code Magenta was and being too good at seeing through his lies, a voice boomed over the intercom once more. “Code Azure.” Now Marco was the one running across the hospital. Law and Robin called after him, but he was too quick and lost them almost immediately. Again, people were whispering and asking what it meant. Again, those who knew brushed it off saying it was a special code for Marco, which was true.

Code Azure was everything he needed to know. It was similar to Code Cyan, where you were emotional and needed him to keep you from losing it. This one was on a greater scale. That meant that no, you didn’t succeed and you were about to actually lose it. He just hoped it made it in time.

You had a certain habit when this happened. A habit he had down. Typically, you’d start spiraling almost immediately. You’d grow numb and become a robot. Then you’d disappear. Never for very long and typically you ended up at a bar. The only tricky part was that you never went to the same bar, so he always had to hunt you down. Also you tended to be more rambunctious and squirmy when you drank, so just dealing with you in that kind of state was something he was trying to avoid.

When he arrived on the other side, one of the nurses sighed before shaking their head. “They’re already gone.”

Marco groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He glared at the nurse who licked her teeth and grimaced at him.

“It’s not like they exactly leave in the most conspicuous manner, you know this. One moment they’re there, the next they’re not.” With that, they left Marco to his own devices. He couldn’t just leave right now. There were still some things to take care of before he could leave. He also knew Law and Robin were probably waiting for an explanation.

He pulled out his phone, texting his father to let him know the current situation. Pops could start looking while he finished things up here. It shouldn’t take him too long.

You weren’t exactly sure how you got here. One moment the single toned beep was ringing in your ears and now you were trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get home. You weren’t sure how much you drank, you never did when this happened. It was like you clocked out of your body for some hours and when you came back, someone else had taken the wheel and crashed.

You slowly slid from your seat, the world around you spinning. You held on to the edge of the bar, blinking hard as you tried to gather yourself. Fuck, you hated drinking. This is why you never did it, but this was just what you did every time. As if you were punishing yourself for something that was out of your control. Actually, that’s exactly what it was. You knew it was bad, you knew it was unhealthy, but you just felt like you couldn’t control it.

You took another deep breath, your world still spinning but you were able to handle it now. “You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?” the bartender asked, looking at the state of you. You shook your head. “I’m gonna just walk it off. Some fresh air might do me good.”

The man just looked at you rather skeptically.

“And I don’t want to end up vomiting in someone’s car,” you mumbled. The bartender snorted, nodding. “There’s the truth I was looking for. At least you’re considerate. Just be careful on your way, okay?”

You nodded, offering a very drunken salute before stumbling out the door.

The cold air hit you like a slap in the face. You immediately felt everything coming up and rushed over to the bushes, unleashing whatever you had been putting into your stomach for the last couple of hours. Man, how did you do so much damage in so little time? What time even was it right now? Did you even have your phone?

Once you were done with that, you felt a whole lot better. The world was still tilted and moving slightly but you were able to stand up straight for the most part. Marco was going to kill you. You groaned, double checking yourself. You had your phone - which was dead, keys, and wallet. You manage to not upchuck all over yourself. Things were okay for now. You assumed your car was at the hospital. At least you had enough sense in your dazed state to walk instead of drive.

You started walking - well, stumbling - down the sidewalk. You moved slowly as if you were learning how to walk again. It didn’t take long before you were somewhat able to walk for the most part.

At least, that’s what you thought before you tripped over yourself. There was no saving yourself. You braced yourself for impact only for it to never come. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground not far from your face. What the hell? That’s when you realized someone had you by the collar of your shirt.

You felt yourself being picked up and tossed over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There’s only one person who it could be. Everything hit you all at once and Marco was the only person you really could unleash everything on. “Marco, I’m so sorry,” you grumbled, feeling the tears well up. “I tried everything I could, but it wasn’t enough.” You felt the tears start to fall. “Everything is just going wrong. I thought it was fine. Things would be fine, but it isn’t. I don’t know what’s going on.” You kept your face covered, laying limply over his shoulder as you sobbed.

“He was so small, Marco.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “So small. His wounds were too great. They were for an adult, not a child. I went into this to save children, but I wasn’t able to. I couldn’t help him. God, why do they have to involve kids with their stupid lives. They don’t want this. They never do. I never wanted it. I just- What’s the point of being a doctor if I can’t save lives?” You were just blubbering at this point, no real structure to your sentences.

After another moment of crying, you calmed down a little bit. Then you realized something. Marco hadn’t said anything. He was usually scolding you by now. That, and he would never pick you up like this. He knew how squirmy you sometimes got and he usually opted for dragging you. “Marco?” you asked, sniffling and wiping your eyes.

Hold on. Why were you this high off the ground? Marco wasn’t this tall. It couldn’t be Pops either, he was way taller. You tried to move, but felt the arm around your middle tighten. “Uh?” Panic was setting in. Were you being kidnapped, right now? You started squirming but to no avail. Unlike Marco, whoever was holding on to you seemed to have no trouble keeping you in place.

“Fucki-”

“Y/n.” You stopped as you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in a while. “Corazon?” Your eyes widened and you felt your face warm up. Of course he’s the one who found you like this. Of course. Of all people. Of all times. “Where…are you taking me?” Oh fuck, was he going to kill you? Had he actually been working with Doflamingo this whole time? A whole new wave of panic set in.

“To the hospital.” Oh. Well, that made sense. Leave it to your drunk state of mind to come up with insane scenarios. Besides, if he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it already. It’s not like it was exactly hard to do when you were like this.

“Seems like the roles are reversed now, huh?” It seemed he was trying to lighten the mood. You blinked at his words, confused. “What do you mean?” Corazon chuckled softly. “Well, you’re usually the one stopping me from falling. Not the other way around. I’ve never seen you in such a state.” You felt your face set ablaze and you sputtered for a moment.

“Well, it doesn’t happen often,” you mumbled, yawning. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you. “So, don’t get used to it.” You thought for a moment. “Huh, I guess the roles really are reversed.” You yawned again, feeling your body going slack. “You saved me from falling,” your voice slowly became softer as you were drifting off. “You pointed the gun at me just like I did to you when we met.”

You felt Corazon stop. “What?” You covered your mouth, tiredly giggling. “Oops.” Now delirium was setting in. With the lack of sleep and the alcohol coursing through your veins, you were reaching a point in which you were honestly surprised you were still awake.

Corazon gently set you down on the ground and looked at you. “What did you mean by that?” You blinked, looking at him with half lidded eyes. You were barely able to stay awake. You felt yourself sway a bit and he put his hands on your shoulders to hold you steady. “When the hell did you point a gun at me, y/n?”

You yawned, shaking your head. “A long time ago, you don’t remember.” Corazon studied your face as he tried to figure out what you were telling him. Honestly, you weren’t even processing what you were saying right now. You just looked at him through droopy eyes and watched as his face slowly came to the realization.

“You’re-”

“Y/N!” A voice cut through the cold night air. Your ears perked up and you turned around, almost toppling over as you did so had Corazon not been holding on to you.

“MARCO!” You threw your hands in the air and grinned widely. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d find me.” You giggled as he ran over to you.

Marco was panting, glaring at you. He stopped, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. You were doctors not athletes. “It’s okay. I was safe. Corazon was watching over.” You patted his hand that was still on your arm to keep you steady. “Good guy.” The next word that came out of your mouth was something you didn't even realize you were saying and you didn't even process. "Handsome too, huh, Marco?"

You turned back to Marco, who was fully standing up now that he recovered for the most part. He opened his mouth and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re going to scold me later.” You were not a fan of his scoldings, but at least it wasn’t as if you had to hear them often.

“Let’s go, then,” he said. “Pops is on the way with the truck.”

As if on cue, a large truck pulled up next to the three of you. “Y/n!” A voice boomed out of the window. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You frowned, feeling bad for having worried the two of them. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t long before you were safely secured in the truck and you rolled down the window. “Thanks for helping me out there, Corazon,” you said with a sleepy smile, leaning against the side of the window.

He’d been silent since Marco showed up, not really knowing what to say. “What did you mean when you said you pointed a gun at me earlier?” You blinked at him slowly, trying to process his words.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” You were slowly starting to drift off now. “‘T all happened the night I met you…” You yawned one more time. “When I saved Law.” You stuck your arm out the window for him to see, pointing at the bullet wound scar. “Got this too when ‘Mingo’s guys jumped me. Which was unfair, we were trying to be all nice n’ stuff. Dad sent me in as an olive branch and I almost came out as swiss cheese.” You laughed as you rambled, pulling your arm back in and leaning against the side again.

“Time to go. Thanks, Corazon,” Marco said out his window before the truck took off, leaving the other man frozen in disbelief.

#now to be dead the next three days bc of work lmfao #i also rewrote this like four times oof #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #corazon #rosinante x reader #rosinante #am fics #sc

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oh-surprise-its-me · 8 months

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Okay, tell me your thoughts on God 🤣 *coughs* on Jamie and Simon's relationship.

When Roy comes in and is all gooey about the baking and SURPRISE, JAMIE CAN BAKE! Roy totally proposes after having the best baked good of his life!

Simon would totally cry because he taught his Jam Tartt how to bake. It was hard at times but once Jamie understood it, it was absolute magic to watch him create things in the kitchen.

He totally cried when he made a cake for him and Georgie for their anniversary or something.

Just gimme that wholesome cuteness and Roy being an absolute puddle for these two men. Especially his Jamie.

(Georgie watches all her boys fondly and would totally run her hands thru Roy's hair when he's having a freaking meltdown over wanting to marry Jamie as Jamie and Simon are in the kitchen blissfully unaware 😁)

I have too many thoughts and feelings about this!

Oh my god okay yes

Jamie bounced around Roy’s kitchen all morning. Roy could only watch as Jamie was so excited for Simon to cook with him.

Roy doesn’t quite get it but hey. His parents didn’t cook. Or keep him around for as long as possible so what does he know.

He’s sitting in the living room with Georgie now. They have pride and prejudice on in the background when Roy has the urge to ask.

“Why does Jamie get so excited to cook with Simon?” Georgie smiles, she ticks her legs under herself and leans closer to Roy to talk. “Little baby Jam didn’t know what to do with a father that just loved him. Simon thought that if he was teaching Jamie something he might relax more.”

Roy blinks. Oh fuck. “Oh fuck. Okay. Sorry.” Georgie pats his hand, “oh honey no! That’s such a fair question, Simon was a shock to us all. He’s so nice and always got Jam the clothing he said he didn’t need or want. I blame him for those colors sometimes.”

Roy laughs. He leans closer to Georgie without thinking anything of it. She pulls him down so his head is in her lap. “You’re a darling boy Roy. You’ll make a wonderful husband for Jamie.” Roy freezes. He hasn’t said anything about that to literally anyone.

“Oh Roy you thought I couldn’t tell? Hon you look at him like he’s the earth and you’re the moon floating around him.” Roy blinks the tears out of his eyes. “You approve?” She pats his face, “I approve because even if I didn’t you’d still ask him.”

Roy blushes. She’s not wrong. He takes her hand and squeezes it, “I promise to take care of him.”

Georgie leans down and kisses his head “I know baby.”

Jamie is cutting the cookies out, Simon comes up next to him with more flour. “Here kiddo.” Jamie smiles at him. “Thanks Si.”

Simon leans on the counter watching Jamie cut a snowman out. “Jamie you’re the best son I could’ve asked for I want you to be happy yeah?” Jamie tilts his head. This sounds like the it’s fine if you’re gay conversations they had when he was younger.

“Yeah mate I know?” Simon nods. “Marry Roy. Don’t be afraid if he asks. Jump into it.” Jamie’s mouth drops open. He can’t believe Simon just said that. “Dad-?” “Kiddo the way he looks at you is the way I look at Georgie when she’s covered in paint.”

Jamie blinks. Oh fuck he’s right. “Oh fuck i wanna marry Roy.” Simon laughs he loops an arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “You’ve wanted that since you were like 14 Jam.” Jamie nods, Simon is right.

“You approve? Mum approves?” Simon kisses his head, “yeah we approve hon. Marry him.”

Jamie nods, he can’t wait to talk to Roy again. Loves that his parents approve of Roy.

Loves Roy.

Wants to marry Roy.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie tartt x roy kent #royjamie #roy x jamie #jamie x roy #mac writes ted lasso #I HOPE YOU LIKE I REWROTE LIKE THREE TIMES

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dulcesiabits · 2 years

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one good turn deserves another.

request: hiiii!!! i love your blog and your writing so much!! i also love that you love ruggie too!! i was thinking it would be a super cute idea to see something about ruggie pining over the reader but he thinks they’re trying to get with leona and that’s why they’ve been helping ruggie with his tasks, but really it’s bc the reader has a crush on ruggie and is just trying to get closer to him lol. the ideas been living in my head rent freeee

notes: 1.8k words, fic, fluff, pining

Ruggie Bucchi has survived many things in his short life: hunger, poverty and life-threatening injuries, to name a few. But this? This has to be the worst thing he’s ever had to face.

“Leona, where do you even keep your socks?” you ask, hoisting a basket of laundry to your hip. You, the Ramshackle prefect, who’s faced several overblots and garnered quite the notoriety in school as a result, are now doing Leona’s laundry. And for free, too.

It would have been laughable if Ruggie didn’t have to bite back a scowl every time you talked to Leona.

“Dunno. Ask Ruggie,” Leona drawls, still buried somewhere under his comforter.

“Ruggie, where does Leona put his socks?”

“Left cabinet, top drawer,” he responds automatically, smoothing out a crease in Leona’s lab coat.

“Thanks!”

“Don’t mess anything up, herbivore,” Leona calls.

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to cut holes in all of your socks,” you shot back.

Ruggie’s ears twitch. Truly, listening to you flirt with Leona was worse than breaking a bone. Scratch that, he’d prefer having a broken bone than having to listen to you two banter back and forth. Because every time you exchanged a pointed word with Leona, all Ruggie could think of was how you never talked to anyone else like that.

You were one of the few people Leona (grudgingly) tolerated, and he’d spotted the two of you hanging out during lunch more than once. It makes perfect sense that you’d gotten closer to Leona after his overblot, and you didn’t treat him with any of the trepidation the other students did. It was that, and the fact you were always chasing after Ruggie, asking if Leona had sent him on some outrageous assignment again and if he needed any help, that first clued him in.

It’d been a bit suspicious the first time you chased him down, he wouldn't lie. But hey, he wasn’t going to turn down free help from a known goody two shoes.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Ruggie had said, balancing a mountain of food in his arms.

“I want to help you,” you’d insisted, arms wrapped around your own haul from the cafeteria.

“You want one of these buns?” He waved a freshly baked pastry in your face, and your eyes had followed it, betraying your true thoughts.

“No, it’s okay.”

“Take it,” Ruggie had said, unwrapping it and holding it in front of your mouth.

With some hesitation, you bit into it. “Thanks,” you mumbled, your cheeks stuffed with bread. It was cute– you were cute, even though, for some reason, you refused to make eye contact with him.

“Stop flirting.” Leona’s voice suddenly rang out, irritated. The two of you had made your way to the botanical gardens before either of you was aware of it, and had been loud enough to rouse Leona from his afternoon nap.

“We’re not flirting,” you had hissed. “Go back to sleep.”

Leona raised an eyebrow, but simply beckoned Ruggie over to collect his lunch.

“If you need anything else, you can call me any time,” you had told him afterwards, walking back from the garden.

“Sure, sure, I’ll let you know if a spot opens up to become Leona’s second gopher.”

You’d look a bit upset at that, and it was in that moment it had hit Ruggie that you probably liked Leona. No wonder you didn’t appreciate being called his gopher, and no wonder you’d asked Ruggie if he needed any help buying and carrying food to Leona: it’d all been so you could get closer to him.

Normally, he would put his foot down, tell you to get closer to Leona on your own terms. Ruggie would not let himself be used by someone, not unless they were willing to pay up. But, well, you were a different case. You were– you are– special to him.

Now, watching you and Leona snark at each other, Ruggie has to fight back a familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. You never looked that relaxed when you were with him.

You can do a lot better than Leona, in Ruggie’s opinion. Leona is spoiled, and always looks for underhanded methods, and couldn’t even fold his own clothes, for crying out loud. But he’s– he’s also a prince, and he has money, and he’s good looking. No wonder you’re attracted to him. There’s no way in hell that you’d even consider Ruggie if you were into Leona.

Because Leona is a lot of things that he isn’t, and will never be.

—

Ruggie isn’t sure when he started liking you. Maybe it was when you’d been staying in Leona’s room, and you’d chat with him around the dorm. Or maybe it was when you’d been chasing after him during the spelldrive tournament, trying to pin him down as the culprit to the string of mysterious injuries. Or maybe, from the very beginning, when he saw you stumble out of your coffin during the entrance ceremony, he’d been interested in you. You shone. You’re someone that he couldn’t take his eyes off of, even when it hurt.

“Ruggie!” As if on cue, you run up to him. Classes were over the day, and he’d been making his way to spelldrive practice. Your presence is expected at this point; the first thing you seem to do whenever you have time is come find him. If he was honest, Ruggie would admit that he’d been walking slowly, stretching out the minutes until you came.

“Hey,” he says, and resists the urge to do something stupid, like put his hand on your cheek. “What did you need me for?”

“Epel told me that you have practice today, and I brought you some water,” you say, holding out a cold bottle to him, condensation rolling down the side. “It’s hot today, so… I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”

Did you give one to Leona, too? Ruggie stops himself from asking. It wouldn’t do him any good to know. “Thanks,” he says, instead, and puts a hand on your head.

You smile, and his heart does cartwheels in his chest.

Ruggie is screwed, he is so screwed, and he needs to do something before he falls for you any further.

—

After several weeks of your constant presence, it feels strange when you’re not around. And it’s laundry day again, too, and it would have been nice to have your help lugging around piles of clothes. But, well…

“You should stop playing around with them,” Ruggie mutters, without looking up at Leona.

“Who?”

“What do you mean, who? The Ramshackle prefect, duh. Seriously, Leona.” He flings Leona’s shirt onto the bed with more force than he intended. “They’re, you know. Squishy. Human.”

“Huh. It’s not like you to care about some random herbivore.”

“Well, I don’t. It’s just annoying, seeing them come in here, looking at you like that. Like, they’re waiting for you to give them the time of day, and then you don’t. Just give it to them straight. Say you like them, or say you don’t, but the sooner they stop coming in here, the better.”

“Looking at me? Are you serious?” Leona’s tail flicks in amusement. “You think the herbivore comes in here and does your chores because they want my attention?”

“Well, why else would they be here? Come on, it’s obvious.”

Leona laughs then, a low rumble that Ruggie only hears when they see something unfortunate happen to Rook Hunt or Malleus Draconia. “Ruggie… I’ve always thought you were clever. So why are you giving me that crap?”

“Crap? I’m just…”

“You’re being an idiot,” Leona interrupts. “Your precious little prefect doesn’t like me.”

“Then…” Because if you didn’t like Leona, why else would you spend so much time with Ruggie? What could be the reason you kept hanging around him, the reason you kept helping him out and pestering him? Because… it would mean… Oh. Oh.

“Congratulations on being the last person to figure it out,” Leona says dryly as Ruggie springs up, shirt falling out of his hand.

“Leona, I’ll finish folding your clothes later,” he yells, rushing out the door.

—

Why is it the one time he needs to talk to you that you’re suddenly nowhere to be found? You’re not at Ramshackle, and Jack doesn’t have a clue where you could be. Maybe he could wrangle down those two Heartslabyul freshmen you were always hanging out with…

“Ruggie!”

He stops, heart pounding. There you were, in the middle of the mirror hall. He’s never loved the sound of your voice more.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I could ask you the same thing! I was going to go hang out with Ace and Deuce.” You step closer to him. “Have you been running around?”

“Yes. Sort of. I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

His mouth is dry. In front of you, he feels weak. Everything in him crumbles in your presence, at the way you look at him. “Do you…”

“Do I?”

What if he’s wrong? What if he puts himself out there, and makes himself into a fool? It would be infinitely easier to just shove his feelings down, and keep your relationship as it was. If he never steps out of line, he would never get hurt. Play it safe, and take the easy way out.

But…

“Why do you do so many things for me?” he says instead.

You blink. “Is that what you needed me for? Well, it’s because you’re my… friend, and you’re always working so hard, and I want to help you…”

Ruggie takes another step towards you, so close he could lean in and kiss you. “It’s not because you like Leona, right?”

“Leona? What? No! No way. He’s just a friend, and besides, we would strangle each other to death first.”

“That’s good.”

“Why is it good?”

“Because I like you. I like you, a lot.”

In a sudden movement, you fling your arms around him. “Seriously? Really? You like me?”

He wraps his arms around you, like they were always meant to be there. “Yeah, of course. What, you aren’t going to say it back?”

“I think you already know how I feel,” you mumble, still clinging to him. “I can’t believe you thought I liked Leona! Seriously! Did you think I was doing all of those chores for you because I wanted to impress Leona?”

“Well…”

“Ruggie!” You cup your hands around his cheeks. “I like you! I’ve always, always liked you! You, and not anyone else!”

And really, the only thing he can do right now is kiss you.

The first kiss he gives you is out of relief. The second kiss he gives you is out of love.

#liya writes #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #I LOVED THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!!#i rewrote it like. three times. bc i wanted 2 do it justice and i couldnt get it down right lol

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finniestoncrane · 9 months

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haha scared to post anything longer than like 300 words now i dunno, like it’s forever up for debate if people like my writing or if i’m even any good at it and my brain has just gone into overdrive panic mode writing my commissions and looking at requests thinking “someone else could do that better probably” ;-;

#I probably just need to sleep tbh so GOODNIGHT FRIENDOS #I rewrote the same fic three times today ;-;#I think the fact im having a dreadful time at work right now is not helping tbh #finnie shouts into the void

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channelrat · 5 months

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happy to announce im feeling so much lighter like a feather again

#i wrote a flashback successfully #i think i like it #i finished chappy 1 (AGAIN again)#i had three versions of chappy 1 and still rewrote it #but !! its fine i gotta edit through once more time and then im sending it to the hole #and then if it gets hole approval it goes on ao3 #and then i give chappy 2 to the hole if it's ready by then #(nearly 900 words of flashback alone it is NOT ready i havent seen ezra yet)#should ezra get a pov....#??????#he has to right?#i'll figure it out later

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webbedphantom · 3 months

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Meeting the Matriarch

[Closed starter for @nijimx]

There were a few tells he had to tell when he was nervous.

There were the common ones, like pacing, tapping his fingers or his foot, fidgeting with his phone, or whatever tool he had on hand. But then there were the ones that were more specific to him. The most obvious of which, provided you knew what to look for, came out when he was extremely nervous.

Aaron was typically a very animated person, especially when around those he knew well. And as such, he was almost always moving, even if only slightly. He'd talk with his hands, walk around the room, or twirl his phone in his hand. But when he was as anxious as he was now, he'd get oddly still. His whole body tenses, his mind racing as he tries to run through various scenarios to prepare himself for every possible outcome, with every movement he would make being deliberate, as to not accidentally skew the results, so terrified of screwing everything up that-

"Aaron-"

He turned his attention to the woman across from him, the reason he was so nervous, his Aunt, Mika Amamiya, who might as well be his mother, given she'd had the role for the last 10 years. Though, her mere presence wasn't what had him so high strung. She'd be meeting someone today. Someone rather important to him.

"It's going to be okay-" She continued with a soft smile. "I'm sure she's a lovely girl. You wouldn't talk about her so much if she wasn't."

He sighed, looking down at his hands in his lap. He knew she was right, but that didn't ease his tension very much. Sure, things would probably turn out alright, but he still couldn't help but worry about all the little things. These were two of the most important people in his life, and he really, really wanted this to go well.

Though he didn't have much time to dwell, as it wouldn't be long before the bell at Leblanc's door chimed, signalling the arrival of the guest of honor.

#nijimx #A Web of Lives - Post Strikers;#sorry this took so long! hope it was worth the wait #i rewrote this thing like three times and im still not sure it's any good #but it'll do

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topherwrites · 2 months

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the last time i opened my while you were sleeping!bob doc was two months ago... i've abandoned my boy!

#was almost done with the first chapter #then rewrote it - three times #then decided i wanted to prewrite the whole series #im an idiot #thought it was a fall/winter series and at this rate it probably fucking will be #keep getting distracted

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dhmis-autism · 10 months

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SORRY. JUST REALIZED I ORIGINALLY SKETCHED THE STUFF FROM THAT LAST WIP POST IN. MARCH.

GODDDD...

#I GUESS MY WRIST FUCKING UP PUT ME FURTHER BACK THAN I THOUGHT #but also like. i was JUST talking about it in chat. i have a comic about the Three Of Them that i wrote in a frenzy in FEBUARY.#by the time i rewrote the dialogue and figured out the ending it was SEVEN FUCKING PAGES. SOLID.#OF JUST SCRIPT.#I STILL HAVENT EVEN FINISHED SKETCHING IT. YOU GUYS ARE NOT SEEING THAT SHIT UNTIL 2024 #sometimes an idea of them will grasp me and i will just write the script out in the middle of the night #I realistically. dont even know if you guys are gonna like my scripted stuff.#the first scripted thing i wrote was a yellow&duck comic that im STILL SKETCHING BACKGROUNDS ON #i could be really bad at writing for them. i could totally not get them at all.#but hey!#we'll see when we see I guess #BUT YEAH UH. SORRY FOR LITERALLY ALL I POST BEING WIPS NOWADAYS I AM JUST WORKING ON LIKE 5 DIFFERENT DRAWINGS AT ONCE #STILL TRYING TO GET MY SPRING STUFF DONE. AND ITS ALMOST FALL. SO :]#I JUST CARE SO MUCH ABT THOSE PUPPETS DAWG I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THEM #I HAVE!!! EVEN MORE DRAWINGS THAT I JUST HAVENT SHARED!!! bc i either made them for something real specific in the discord #or bc theyre phone doodles and i dont think theyre that great. or bc i made them just for a friend and thats like. theirs now kjdhkjdfhs #a lotta times once i finish drawing smth for a friend ill just never post it bft. so its just like. for that one thing and nothing else #ANYWAYS HAPPY 3 AM IM FORCING MYSELF TO GO TO BED #AND I STILL HAVE THE ANIMATIONS #AND THE FANART FOR LIKE 5 FICS I WANNA DO #OHHH GOD CMONNN BRO IM NEVER FINISHING ANYTHING #my postings

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princelylove · 4 months

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Since you said okay to request nsfw fic/drabble then I'd love to request for Abdul base on your answer of previous ask. The idea is darling try to escape and he found out, give them a special punishment. I interested in you said he has fear play and edging kink so I hope you can include that. Making darling feel scared but later make them beg for him to reach orgasm is so adorable

~ 🏵️ anon ~

Ahaaaa...... this ask is from the fifteenth of december. I think I owe you something at this point. Forgive me? ♡♡♡♡ This wasn't exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway. Reader is gender neutral but there's one fem pet name in arabic used.

Mohammed is supposed to be patient.

He’s calm, rational.

He isn’t necessarily a man of impulse- very few times has he fallen victim to his own urges, if any such occasions were to exist in the first place.

He can’t recall the last time he made such a rash decision. Perhaps when he was younger.

In a moment of panic, he sets the stairway railing on fire, causing you to stumble off to the side into an end table meant for tossing oddities found on the way home, and sometimes flowers. It isn’t a neatly organized surface, which is odd compared to the rest of Mohammed’s house. Several trinkets are quick to answer gravity’s call, breaking on impact. If you weren’t bent on actually escaping today, you’d usually apologize for breaking any of Mohammed’s ceramic cats laid around your ‘home.’ He’s terribly fond of them- cats, in general, actually.

He wishes you were more like a cat. More simple. You tend to swat at him, certainly, but you’ll learn to trust him, as almost all cats would.

You’d consider yourself not to be a cat, as you’re a human being who has complex needs.

A human being who is very, very flammable.

“Habibti.”

You fumble your way down the stairs, tripping a bit on the end table you just knocked over. Mohammed’s house is quite sizable, you won’t be at the bottom of the stairs anytime soon, even with your fall taking a good four or five steps out of the equation. You’re fine, the rug he had laid out in case you ever did fall saved your poor knees, but it takes you a second to reorient yourself. A second he graciously takes from you, as he sets the rug on fire.

He is not exactly immune to his own fire, so he stares down at you, silently, hating himself for putting even more space between the two of you. When you don't move, he finds it in himself to make a small statement.

“Do not take another step or, God willing, you will not see the light of day for a month.”

You foolishly decide to go for the rest of the stairs. The railing cracks, and falls, putting even more obstacles in Mohammed’s way.

The rooms you pass are all dead ends. You could jump out one of the many windows, of course, but what use would that be? A broken leg isn’t going to allow you your salvation, and your legs are already a bit bruised.

To be fair, neither is stopping to apologize. You can hear it in his tone- he’s trying with all of his might to remain gentle, but he’s livid. His voice rings from his spot at the top of the stairs- you’ve never actually heard him properly yell before. He’s groaning out of frustration.

You make your way to the bottom of the stairs, and just when you reach the front door, you feel a hand yank you back by the collar of your top.

“I love you. Why are you running from me? Have I done something? Tell me what it is, and I’ll fix it.”

He shushes you oh-so-lovingly, and presses you firmly against his chest. His necklace presses into your face roughly.

“My love. My moon. It isn’t so horrible here. Let me take care of you.”

You attempt to push him away, but freeze at his stand grabbing you from behind.

It grabs at your upper arms, and sets the portion under its palms on fire.

Mohammed shushes you. He assures you he has cold water ready. It seems he doesn’t care about your screams, or about rushing, as he takes his time to go to the upstairs bathroom. The rug has been removed from the staircase entirely- not that you’d see it, as you faint on the way there.

When you wake up, which feels instantaneous, Mohammed has you on your back, in your shared bedroom. You’re allowed a personal room, of course, but not at the moment.

He isn’t touching you- in fact, he isn’t anywhere near you. The hands on your wrists belong to him, but aren’t his own. When he hears you’ve finally woken up, he instructs you to keep your eyes closed on the off chance that you can see his stand, Magician’s Red- it’s for the better. He is not easy on the eyes, and is rather unforgiving.

A trait that both the user and stand itself share, if not just the user, and projected onto the stand.

Perhaps if you were more well behaved, he wouldn’t have to remind you of his inclination.

Maybe if you had the common sense of not running from him in a closed space.

He loved chasing you, but he doesn’t love the damage you’ve done to his house. Or the fact that you nearly got out.

“Do you think of me a bad man, my love?" As he speaks, you feel something hot running down your sternum- it travels over your stomach, and hovers between your legs briefly before hovering back up again.

"I never want to be the cause of your stress. If you want to be chased, you need only ask."

He pauses a bit, and you hear his footsteps coming closer. They're dragging, for once.

"In fact, it's my intention to relieve you of stress."

#🏵️ anon #request granted #yandere mohammed abdul #sorrryyy 🏵️ anon dear #i rewrote this three times. i never want to see this man again.#just kiddinggg.#.... about not wanting to see him

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