#reece corpsing

[crusheswhimsandfancies]

Happy birthday to Steve!

I didn’t realise their birthdays were so close together. I bet they’ve had some crazy parties!

#one thing leads to another #😈😈😈 #ahh imagination land #reece and steve #i love them a lot #reece corpsing #rehearsals for tlog live again

[starrrling]

TASK 003 : THE EULOGY.

We gather here to day to honor the life and memories of Richard James Woodrow.

→ Reece Starling delivers her eulogy for Richard at his funeral.

By the time the funeral was around five ward-written eulogies in, Reece had already pretty much assumed that there wasn’t anything else for the rest of them to say, or at least not anything that hadn’t already been covered; leave it to Reuben to prove her wrong in the eleventh hour, then, by announcing to the procession that Richard Woodrow was not a good father. In the subsequent quiet, Reece held her breath while her ears rang, waiting for the punchline that didn’t come, although she felt so sure that it had to be some kind of joke. 

Reece has never been the best about time and place, either, but even she knew that if you wanted to air your grievances about the dead so damn bad, then you should phone a friend, find a therapist, burden a bartender with all of your petty shit. You spare the mourners your grand ideas about what it means to be a good parent, because these are the two hours of the rest of everyone’s life when none of that shit gets to matter anymore. Jesus Christ. The entire thing was already unbearably depressing, and Reuben was only making it worse, bringing all of his personal baggage out in the open for everyone to see, making a captive audience supremely uncomfortable with the piece of performance art that seemed to be his whole life. 

(And maybe Reece had a knack for doing exactly the same thing, and maybe a part of her knew that, but—but at least she tried to be funny about it. If she had a way of shoving her pain in everyone’s face, then it was only for the sake of diluting it, of lightening it, carving off bits of the impossible weight of everything. Wasn’t it?)

She kind of couldn’t wait to watch Alison rip Reuben a new asshole once the wake was over and they were all behind closed doors together. 

Including Reuben’s speech, there were thirteen eulogies that preceded Reece’s turn to take the mic, and somehow, the high from her pre-funeral smoke session still hadn’t worn off yet by the time Reuben was walking out of service altogether. 

Which left Reece up to bat. A part of her had almost expected for the funeral to go on forever, the number of eulogies preceding hers extended infinitely, leaving her posed in the audience picking the black polish off of her nails for the rest of time, real purgatory. She felt as though she was floating as she moved to the front, moving through dark water. Her nose and eye throbbed in time with the audible bloodbeat in her ears. 

She licked her chapped lips as she approached the mic; she closed her eyes for a second, but opened them again when the only thing she could see tattooed on the fleshy black of her eyelids was the image of Richard at her grandmother’s funeral, staring down at the closed casket—abrasions from the car accident covered up with bruised makeup, broken ribs and a punctured lung hidden beneath funeral attire, or maybe gutted from the corpse altogether. Reece never found out, because there hadn’t been anybody that she could ask. 

“Alright, folks, home stretch here. We’ve made it into the final quarter of eulogies, and I really doubt it can get any worse than that, right? Should be smooth sailing from here,” Reece quipped while she fiddled with the mic stand to adjust it to her height. The tight smile she gave the audience was automatic, a little anxious; she cleared her throat, and began. 

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming. Thanks for your patience. You’ve been a great crowd, really,” she said, subconsciously slipping into her What’s the deal with airplane food? voice, talking a little too fast. The very air around her felt sickeningly somber, and she could feel her skin crawl with it, could feel the death and doom creeping in from around the corner. “Um, anyways, my name is Reece, and I was born in the back of a cab in Staten Island. I really shouldn’t be here. I mean, y’know, if you look at all the facts—lay out the first, like, decade or so of my life—that girl? She doesn’t have any business being in a place like this. I mean, if you do the math, it adds up to somebody who grows up to wind up… at Bedford Hills, or, like, on the floor of a bar, or in a ditch by the side of the road, or something. And, hey, I guess there’s still time for all of that,” Reece joked; she was grinning to herself, but as she spoke again, her voice faltered a little. 

“But, um—um, Richard… he never made me feel like that’s what he saw in me. He took me in when I was eleven, and alone, and impossible. You know they use middle school girls as a method of torture during wartime? That’s just the well-adjusted ones, too. Me, though? The kid from the back of the cab? The one who was nursing from a can of Miller Lite with a baby bottle nipple attached? I mean, I would pretty much be the nuclear option,” Reece rambled, losing herself in her thoughts a little before reeling it back in. “Uh—Richard, though. He… he didn’t see that. He… saw a future for me where I—where I wasn’t… ruining anything, not even myself. He could imagine this reality where my life was worth something, or—or I was worth something, worth protecting, and I’m honestly not sure what the fuck I’m going to do now that I don’t—now that he’s—” and then her eyes were burning, and her voice was nothing, this raspy little squeak that fell off in a quiver while she reminded herself, feverishly, inadequately, that she just couldn’t do this. 

She shouldn’t be here. Everything was so fucked, so wrong and fucking sad, and it made the skin of her skull feel too tight. And this isn’t what she meant to say up here, right now—she wasn’t supposed to give another speech about his charity, their family, to tell everyone her sob story where Richard’s the wealthy savior, Daddy Warbucks for the modern girl, almost a saint. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She was supposed to say something different, something that mattered. She was going to tell them about his laugh; she was going to tell them about the way being around him made her feel like her grandmother’s spirit wasn’t really gone, not totally; she had meant to say that Richard was resilient, that he’d suffered and still done good afterwards anyways, that he tried to teach all of them to do the same; she wanted to ask them all—all of these strangers, all of this family—if that didn’t make a good father, what the fuck could?

#wrhq.task #no ending to this i cant write anymore i have no stamina for using my brain lsdkjlfsjkd #just assume her voice broke a little & she went back to her seat #nothing too dramatic

[andorerso]

Rebelcaptain Whumptober: Day 10

for the prompt "Stranded" (warnings: character death, but not Jyn or Cassian. it's Melshi. also zombies)

Curled up in the corner, legs pulled up against her chest, Jyn scratched at the bite mark on her wrist. It was getting itchy. Not a good sign.

Across from her, next to the cashier’s desk, Andor was still staring at the mangled corpse of his… friend? Boyfriend? Brother? She had no idea what they were to each other, but she didn’t think Andor had moved a muscle since the man took his last gurgling breath so she gathered they were close.

Everything went to shit so quickly.

Jyn’s people had been battling another group of survivors to seize control over the area for months now. Small skirmishes here and there, taking out a scout or two, capturing and interrogating members for intel. Nothing major so far, but it was all building up to something. The Rogues had supplies Jyn’s people so desperately needed; food, medicine, water… But the Partisans had weapons and the advantage of an old US military base that anyone would be envious of.

Yavin County wasn’t big enough for both groups. A conflict was inevitable, and they had been preparing for this battle for months. Here, at the ruins of the small town that separated their two bases, was supposed to be the last stand. Jyn had her targets in sight, had spent countless nights pouring over the intel they had, deciding who would need to be eliminated first, who was their weakest link, who could spell trouble… She was to take out their best soldiers, leaving room for others to sneak into their base and ambush their leaders. The rest of the group would then scatter or fall into line.

Yeah, sure. When were things ever that easy?

Nobody counted on the fucking horde that showed up. The new recruits panicked, took off on their own or got swept up in the first wave, while the braver ones attempted to take out as many undead as they could. That went about just as well as panicking.

Rule number one: you didn’t fight a horde. You ran.

Saw called a retreat, but Jyn was too in the thick of it to make it back to her jeep in time. She’d ridden with Reece Tallent, and the fucker couldn’t care less that not everyone returned. He took off at full speed with whoever was on board as soon as he jumped into the vehicle; the rest of them? Tough luck.

Then there was that stupid bite, of course.

Jyn fired a bullet between the zombie’s eyes, but the damage was already done. Partisans and Rogues alike were fleeing. The horde was advancing. She couldn’t make it back to one of the jeeps now, even if she wanted to. Some of them still lingered while they waited for the last survivors to jump inside, but running into the thick of the horde was suicide. The only thing she could think to do was take up shelter in the hardware store across the street.

She wasn’t the only one left behind, it turned out. She saw one of the Rogues running to make it to a truck that was just leaving when three zombies toppled him to the ground. Somebody from the car yelled “No!”, and out of the corner of her eyes, Jyn saw a man jump from the back of the truck to try and rescue his friend. The car took off without them in a cloud of smoke.

Jyn didn’t stop to help. That man was a fool; one of the undead went for the jugular, his friend was as good as dead. But that didn’t stop him from dragging his bloody and barely conscious body to the hardware store, and damn it, they may be her enemy, but even she wasn’t cruel enough to leave them out there to be torn apart by the horde. Curse her bleeding heart.

The man pulled his friend inside, and Jyn slammed the doors shut just in time. Bodies crashed against the glass, mindless in their pursuit to get inside. Clashing teeth, decaying flesh, dead eyes staring at her with hunger. Jyn stood there for a second in frozen shock.

Then she snapped into action, finding the nearest shelf in the store and attempting to push it against the door.

“Fucking help me, will you?” she hissed at the Rogue. He turned his head to glance at her, and she finally recognized him as Andor.

Who knew he was so selfless?

With a quick look at his convulsing friend on the ground, — definitely dead, Jyn decided, he was missing half his throat — Andor got up and helped her push the shelf in place. She wasn’t sure how long it’d hold, but it was better than nothing. Andor immediately returned to his friend, grasping his cheeks in his hands, murmuring something.

Jyn had the decency not to eavesdrop, but even from the spot she claimed in the corner, she heard it clear as day when his gurgles turned silent.

She glanced at them. His body had stopped twitching, his eyes staring into nothing. Andor’s head was bowed, one of his hands grasping the man’s jacket, his shoulders shaking. It wouldn’t take long before he turned…

Luckily, Jyn didn’t have to voice that. With an audible inhale, Andor lifted his head, retrieved a dagger from his pocket, and slid it into his friend’s head. Killing the brain before the virus had time to reanimate him. The action seemed strangely gentle for what it was.

Then he placed the dagger on his dead friend’s chest and went completely motionless. Still crouching by him, still clutching his jacket, still staring at his lifeless eyes. He just turned off.

After an hour, Jyn couldn’t take it anymore. She had tuned out the banging on the glass, she had tuned out the horrible groans and rattles, she had tuned out the uncomfortable stares of dead people. She tried not to think about her own impending doom, tried not to wonder who made it from her group and who hadn’t.

But her eyes kept wandering back to Andor, waiting for him to move, to say something. Kneeling right in front of her line of vision, he was impossible to ignore.

Oh, fuck it.

Jyn stood from the corner, slowly approaching. He didn’t look up when she stopped by him, but she shrugged out of her jacket, using it to cover his friend’s mangled body.

Andor finally lifted his head, and their eyes met. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, his expression smooth as stone, but she held his gaze and said nothing. They didn’t know each other, and I’m sorry would have been fucking offensive when under different circumstances, she might have been the one to kill his friend. She couldn’t act like she cared. But… it was a gesture. Because she knew what it was like to lose someone.

The silence that stretched between them should have been uncomfortable, but it seemed like he understood. He glanced away, finally releasing his death grip on his friend’s jacket, and sat back against the cashier’s desk. Jyn took that as a success.

She made it back to her corner, a little unsteady on her feet. The world tilted for a second. Shit… She clutched her wrist again. How long before the fever kicked in?

When she sat back down, Andor was watching her curiously.

“What’s your name?”

“Jyn,” she replied, her tone clipped.

“I’m Cassian.” His gaze strayed towards his friend’s body, a flash of grief in his eyes. “And his name was Melshi.” Determination hardened his features as he stood up. In a tone that left no room for argument, he continued, “I’m getting out here.”

Jyn snorted. “Good luck with that.”

He shot her an annoyed glare like she was being unreasonable for seeing the situation clearly. Getting out of here… Yeah, right. And go where?

“Were you bitten?” he asked, his eyes roving across her body.

So he did see her wobble. Jyn gave a curt nod, absentmindedly scratching at her bite.

“Okay. We need to treat that first.”

She wanted to laugh in his face.

A bite didn’t always have to be a death sentence, but in this case, it almost certainly was. With a mortality rate over eighty-four percent, it was difficult to treat under better circumstances. Let alone when you were stranded in a hardware store with a horde waiting for you outside. She didn’t see what he could possibly do to help her now. Maybe if she had made it back to base… But even then.

The bite killed you more often than not.

“What’s the point?” She waved her hand towards the store entrance where the undead were only growing in numbers. “Look outside. We’re dying here.”

“In that case.” Face blank, Andor pulled out his gun and held it out with its handle pointed towards her. Jyn stared at him. “Or would you rather I do it?”

She said nothing. Satisfied, he withdrew his hand and reholstered his gun.

“So let me fucking help you then.”

God. What a dick.

xxx

Andor searched the store for supplies, returning with some bandages, cotton wool, antiseptic, and rubbing alcohol. Jyn watched him, still a little wary as he crouched in front of her and ripped open the cotton wool packaging. Her head was foggy, her limbs a little sluggish, her mouth dry, her skin hot.

The bite was pumping its venom through her system, leaving her weak and vulnerable in front of a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her enemy.

It scared her. He could overpower her right now, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. It scared her more than dying.

But all he did was pour alcohol on the cotton and reach for her hand to clean the wound. Her body tensed up, but she didn’t fight him. His grip was loose, his touch surprisingly gentle, and still, she couldn’t make herself relax. Always anticipating a blow, that was her life. She watched him as he worked, the furrow in his eyebrows, the lock of hair that fell over his eyes, the downturn of his mouth as he inspected her bite.

He was, Jyn mused, undoubtedly handsome. The thought may have been a side effect of the fever that was surely ravaging her body by now, but it was still true, which was rather annoying. It was the last thing she needed to be thinking right now. If she had to die, she wanted to die with some damn dignity.

But yes. The photo she saw of him didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

After a while, Andor lifted his head and met her eyes. Jyn knew she was caught staring, but she didn’t flinch away, holding his gaze as if daring him to call her out on it. She’d use the about-to-die card if she had to.

“You look like shit,” he said after a pause.

She barked out a laugh of surprise, the sound rough. “You’re a fucking asshole, Andor.”

He stilled. Jyn didn’t realize her mistake until he spoke. “I didn’t tell you my last name.”

Goddamn it. She would blame this on the fever as well.

Jyn opened her mouth, hesitating. What were her options? If he wanted to, he would kill her anyway. Which wasn’t a terrible loss as the bite might still do that for him. But she could be honest and hope he saw it as a gesture of goodwill. He knew she was with the Partisans; they’d been shooting at each other not two hours ago. He knew she had killed members of his group before, and would have killed more if things went differently today.

What did it matter if she admitted she was going to kill him as well?

“We surveilled your group,” she spoke softly, watching for his reaction. “You were one of my targets.”

Andor grunted. His face gave nothing away. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.”

Deemed dangerous and competent enough to be a problem. He was one of the three people she was supposed to handle.

Figures he’d end up being the one possibly saving her life.

For a second, Andor only stared at her, his eyes roving her face. Jyn shifted in her place, tightening her hands into fists, preparing for a fight. She had two daggers up her sleeves, another in her boot. A gun strapped to her thigh as a last resort. She was a little dizzy, but she could get the jump on him, go for the neck before he had the chance to realize —

Andor nodded, interrupting her battle tactics, and went back to applying antiseptic to her wound. Jyn waited, but he didn’t have any comments for her. No snippy remarks or angry quips. Not even a ‘it’s a good thing you didn’t kill me then.’

What was wrong with this man?

“You’re all done,” he said after he finished wrapping her wound. Jyn’s eyes followed him as he stood up, a question on the tip of her tongue.

He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows as if to say, spit it out, we don’t have all day.

“I killed your people,” she said. A statement, not a question. But he understood the meaning. Why are you helping me?

“I killed yours.”

“Does that make us even?” she wondered.

Andor shrugged. “I don’t know what that makes us. I just know I’m not leaving anyone behind.”

His gaze strayed back to the body on the floor, just for a split second. Melshi, he had said. Was this guilt then? Atonement? Trying to make up for what he felt was a failure by saving someone else?

Well, either way. She wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

But there was still the matter of the horde out there. And it was getting dark soon. If he had any bright ideas, it was time to come out with them.

“We still can’t fight our way out.” She gestured to the undead, clawing at the glass. “Even if I was in top shape. Which I’m not.”

He fixed her up, so her wound hopefully wouldn’t get infected, but the fever would only grow worse. God only knew if she’d even survive.

“We’re stuck here.” Her tone was factual, hiding the desperation that reared its ugly head. She was not going to be a zombie meal. Any death would be better than that.

Andor’s jaw worked as he scanned the store, taking inventory of the shelves. His expression shifted, a glint in his eyes that revealed he had an idea.

“Jyn?”

She blinked, surprised at the sound of her name from his mouth. It was… hmmm. Better not think about it now.

“What?”

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something akin to a smirk. “How much do you know about making bombs?”

#rebelcaptain #rogue one #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #my fics #rcwhumptober #rip melshi #sorry my dude i needed a victim #also i just cannot write non-horny jyn afdhhfgh #it's not projection shut up

[occasionalsnippets]

Retrograde motion mc aus with songs on my phone that I think go well with them- I KNOW I MISSED A FEW BUT ITS SIX AM HERE AND I HAVE TO SLEEP SOON 😭 I typed this while tired af so please don’t judge how random the capitalizations are

RM Mc: Snakes by PVRIS and MIYAVI

Doctor Mc: Good Look by Lasse Lyxe

MTF Mc: Put it on the line by the Heavy

Eldritch Mc: The Mind Electric by Miracle Musical

God Complex Mc: Majesty by Apashe and Wasiu

Amnesia was her name Doctor Mc: Over Me by Reece Brunke

Twitch chats au: Voices by Groundbreaking

Trail of Corpses au: Cradles by Sub Urban

Ooo

#mumblings #answered #ask #anon #Anomalous AU #song-related #Doctor AU #MTF AU #Eldritch AU #God Complex AU #Trails Of Corpses AU #Twitch Chat AU

[stoopsmagazine]

Stoops Issue 12 (DIY Issue) is now available!

So I've been doing this magazine for 9 years now and you would think I would have streamlined the process for releases, but being that it is still mostly a one person operation over here with no real industry support or ad dollars, I'm still just doing my best. Each issue hinges on whatever time and money I have to throw into it with hopes of breaking even but mostly coming to terms with the reality that I am spending what others may spend on mortgages, or cars, or alcoholism to put out a skateboarding publication for my own sanity, grasping for a sense of purpose, and for the few of you actually appreciate it. One day I will come to my senses and give it up, but for now, it is somehow still moving along with no drop in quality. And while I know this seems like a pity party of one over here, it is really my segue into the theme of the new issue. Issue 12 has a Do-It-Yourself theme where we explore the concept of creating spots out of nothing. Just as I am creating a magazine with my own resources, accepting the loss of funds to produce something that brings me joy, skateboarders have been doing this for years. Every spot built by skaters using their own hard earned money has no monetary pay off but brings them joy, as well as netting some happiness for others who get to enjoy using the product of that labor. This issue explores the DIY mentality in skateboarding and its importance.

You can order it here!

Articles: First Words, Brett Sube Interview, In Brief: Dead Dave, In Brief: AC Pearson, Life & Death of Eastland DIY, Max Murphy Interview, Pop-up spots, One-Offs, Barrier Kult

Photographers: Seu Trinh, Mike Heikkila, Marco Hernandez, Reece Leung, Fabien Ponsero, Masa Yoshimoto, Eby Ghafarian, Clément Harpillard, Tadashi Yamaoda, Bradford Bishop, Dharam Khalsa, Isaac McKay-Randozzi, Judah Oakes, Dave Smith, Sam Fidlin, Liam Annis, AC Pearson

Skaters: Deerman of Darkwoods & Ba. Ku., Max Murphy, Dead Dave, Cody Chapman, Brett Sube, Charlie Munro, Josh Wilson, Chris Russell, Elijah Akerley, Mathias Torres, Michal Juras, Justin Andenrian, Zach Riley, AC Pearson, Jace Cooney, Jermaine Whittaker, Haruto Yoshimura, Jiri Bulin, Leo Spartacus, Tom O'Driscoll, Joe Gavin, Faro Phiri, Alder Wilson, Resse Barton, Taylor Lark, Julian Furones, Alex Hallford, Justin Reno, Simon Berton, Yusuke Shirakashi, Ana Vela, Muskellunge of Dark Island, Statue of the Black Crow, Depth Leviathan Dweller, Permafrost Corpse Eating Hraesvelgr, Jon Akers, Jamel Marshall, Presley Sweat, Marcel Pawlowski, Rae Holmes, Steve Barrett, Ethan Kaplan, Dyshon Whidbee, Justin Ganey, Curt Reefe, Jaeson Manzanares, Kent Summers.

#stoops #stoops magazine #stoops mag #skateboarding #magazine #diy #do it yourself #barrier kult #baku #max murphy #brett sube #eastland diy #dead dave #ac pearson

[drippingviolets3]

PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE STILL ACCEPTING ASKS FOR THE REMNANTS OF DESPAIR, I HAVE THE BAD CASE OF THE BRAINROT

I've been trying to find remnants of despair blogs through the tag and your posts are scrumptious.

Anyways, imagine reader who's a past classmates with the Remnants and they survived Junko's brainwashing somehow (probably was absent from school that day idk) and then they're just surviving around the city and stuff.

And somehow, idk how, they hijacked some broadcast system and just played Cupcake's remixes.

This would go on until they get caught by the remnants or something and they're like "sorry your honour, I was in a silly goofy mood 😜"

A/N: THIS. THIS IS THE ENERGY I’M LOOKING FOR IN HEADCANON POSTS AND ASKS.

Blasting Cupkkake remixes to the RoD

•It could have started two different ways: Either you were out sick, or you just weren't close to your classmates, meaning Chiaki’s death didn't affect you (like me-)

•Either way you lucked out because you weren't manipulated into becoming a terrorist.

•Odds are Junko lumped you into Makoto’s class just so she could see what happens. Either you die and it's no big deal, or you make it to the final trial and everyone has to figure out who you are and why you're there. It's fun for her either way so she doesn't care.

•The remnants were also watching with great interest. So when the season finale comes and you exit the school with the other survivors, they’re on the hunt for you. I mean you essentially killed their leader after all.

•Anyways they all do some crazy shit with the corpse as we all know, then they're on the prowl.

•Everyone was taking this seriously, seeing how the world and humanity itself was at stake.

•Everyone except you that is.

•You felt like starting some shit for whatever reason, and what was the best way to do that?

•Well, they were about to find out.

•So picture this: It was all going to shit

• The remnants were attacking. The FF and you were all trapped inside a single building, and while help was on the way there were fifteen remnants or so against a bunch of random workers and you.

•You had to distract them so more people could evacuate, so maybe, just maybe, you could distract them for long enough to get the upper hand.

•You knew what you had to do.

•You grabbed your phone and pulled up YouTube, hooking up your phone and turning on the broadcast system.

•The remnants were caked in blood and reveling in the despair that washed over the place, and when the broadcast system turned on, they expected a surrender.

•Instead they got a blast of CPR/Misery/Reeces Puff theme song blasted at full volume while you and the remaining workers made your escape.

•I’m 99% sure half of the SDR2 cast have ADHD, and if they're anything like me they're going to get distracted trying to follow along with three songs at once. Plenty of time for a getaway.

•And for the few who don't focus on the music? Well they lost their targets and now backup was approaching their location rapidly, so they had to start running.

•The FF were not pleased with your tactic of escape because they're all boomers and suck a-

•So after thoroughly chewing you out, they finally asked you what you had to say for yourself. And your answer?

•”Sorry your honor, I was in a silly goofy mood 😝🤪🥳🤩😜🤣😂”

•To this day, no one knows how you managed to speak in emojis

#danganronpa #danganronpa remnants of despair #remnants of despair #sdr2 #danganronpa sdr2 #danganronpa headcanons

[eldridgecandell]

⭐️

During the Second War, Miles Ward and Eld Candell rode together during a few missions with the 5th Mounted Blunder Brigade. They weren't called that because of mishaps or mix-ups in their missions but were one of the first to receive black powder weaponry from dwarves of Dun Morgh.

Eld along with Reece Langston had been the first to volunteer during a rescue mission into the heart of the Hinterlands to free a captured Wildhammer clansman. Miles Ward having joined a newly commisioned covert group within the burgeoning Alliance was given his first command with the mission called Operation Blue Feather. With a few others, six men and Ward had entered the troll territory in search of the captured thane. Sadly the mission turned out to be a bust as the dwarf had already tried to escape three times and paid for it with a healthy dose of wyvern poison. A mangled corpse was also the disturbing prize.

But for what they had lacked in rescuing the thane they had come upon a nest of gryphon eggs taken and a matriarch as well that the squad was able to free. A harrowing escape on gryphon back led to a marginal heroes welcome among the tattooed master of flight.

Candell, Langston, and Ward would part as comrades but definitely would end up in different parts of the world before establishing any further of a relationship. As the riflemen returned to their company and quieter days while Miles continued into a world of espionage and intrigue among SI:7.

@damien-ward

#ask answered #headcanon #eldridge candell #reese langston #miles ward #5th Mounted Blunder Brigade #Second War #the past #world of warcraft #wyrmrest accord #moon guard #roleplay #SI:7

[flint-goes-crazy]

thinking about the apocalypse

In the small shelter, an attempt at putting a kitchen together has mostly succeeded. A metal heating plate is harder to use than a gas hob, but open fire is too dangerous these days, especially now that Reece has installed hay insulation in the walls. The last thing we need is to turn the destruction of our home into a beacon that might reveal our location. It’s still worth it, though, as the few remaining meteorological instruments outside are predicting snow next July, and it’s not getting any warmer.

Since we managed to destroy half our planet, weather’s been quite weird.

There’s still high levels of danger of radioactive exposure above ground, as well as gangs and cults and God knows how many idiots running around with guns just looking for a fight. I sometimes wonder whether they’ve understood that the world’s ended already, that they’re fighting for a corpse of a planet.

Outside, Reece is talking to the leaders of two other communities, their voice friendly, but firm.

“…still needs work, but we can get through okay. Most of these rations just need water, heat or both. As long as we stick together, we can pool our resources, provide for our communities, just try and survive a little bit better..”

Surviving better. That’s been Reece’s idea since day one, when the nuclear weaponry of all major military forces around the world suddenly detonated. Each model of missile, bomb and explosive was designed to maximise casualties, killing far more after the initial bang and flash than during.

Some claimed it was a computer hack, that some young prodigy with something to prove had pressed the big red button with lines of code, slicing through the iron bones and steel skin of security systems surrounding launch codes. Others argued that the rich and powerful had left the Earth in search of a new world, crippling the people left behind so they couldn’t follow the rockets into the bright new future of humanity. A few even thought that God had lost a bet with the Devil, and had allowed hell on Earth to pay for the huge amount of debt only such divine beings could accumulate.

Personally, I thought it was a bad joke. The world ended with nuclear devastation, and it was trending on Instagram within minutes.

“Surviving better” from Reece means “We’re fucked, but let’s try and enjoy it.” Tonight, we’re going to try having a sit-down dinner with some neighbouring shelters. All the food has been placed in decontamination chambers weeks in advance for the meal, along with a few bottles of wine. Unless someone brings glasses, we’ll be passing the bottles around the table. We still have some decent cutlery and crockery from Reece’s mum and a tablecloth with some nice patterns on it.

I made the mistake of looking at the news yesterday. Now that I’ve seen how the world looks from a satellite, I’m trying not to think of half-eaten apples. Or charcoal.  

 Or hell.

(Please don't post this elsewhere)

#creative writing #apocalypse #writing prompt

[aeipathcy]

cast: niko, lian, naoki date: 06/18/2023 word count: 2,164 content warning(s): not applicable

prompt: a chat about 'feelings'

The fact he was even awake at this hour was odd. Actually, it was more than odd. It was concerning, to say the least. The sight Lian had walked into that afternoon was the scene of his undead roommate huddled into a ball as he sat on the corner seat of the living room couch, the television off and the breeze gently flowing in from the partially open window. The sun shone in from outside and its beams rested upon the undead corpse’s deathly pale figure as if to highlight just how out of place his presence was in the living room. Seeing Niko awake in the middle of the day was almost unreasonable, as for the past year, he had completely shifted to his natural nocturnal cycle. The caladrius stood there practically frozen, golden brown eyes blinking unnaturally in disbelief as he brought his coffee mug towards his lips. Was he imagining this or was Niko actually sitting here? He was in the process of getting over the effects of an all-nighter so—

“Hey Lian, how do you know if you love someone?” his voice softly piped up.

And he almost dropped his coffee—another thing that was highly unexpected. Niko, of all people, asking about romance?! With the way the brunette had been vocalizing his disgust about his partner coming over these days and being “sickeningly lovey-dovey” (as he put it) plus his personal trauma regarding his own love life, one of the last things he expected was to even talk about with him was this emotion. Though, Lian didn’t really mind. It was a sign he was moving past the memories that once shook him to the core.

When the silence stretched longer than expected, the brunette leaned his head back onto the plush back of the couch, lifting his gaze the best he could to catch Lian’s attention. Regaining his bearings from the sudden inquiry, the blond let out a sigh, clearly still recovering from both morning (or rather afternoon since he got up late) grogginess and the shock of Niko’s very presence here.

“Weren’t you the one who actually proposed to someone before?” he remarked, a tinge of sleepiness evident in his tone. He did even go so far to handcraft the engagement ring as well, as far as he knew (evident from the time he spent trying to recreate the ring he had given her so long ago; although he had paused those activities for the past year or so… maybe due to some significant changes). He brought the rim of the cup to his lips to take a larger sip of pure black coffee to help wake himself up, “or did all your trauma related to it make you lose sight of it all?”

Without a word, the corpse nodded in agreement, unable to verbally affirm the confirmation of Lian’s assumption. 

Ah, this was going to be a somewhat deeper talk today. Lian didn’t mind; after all, it was his job as a caladrius to heal the injured and sick, and emotional troubles could fit into that category if he stretched the healing bird’s definition of their duties. Then again, even if it didn’t, there was no way he would ever leave a friend to deal with problems on their own. To put himself more into the conversation, the blond leaned against the couch himself, resting his arms along the top using his elbows for support and nursed his coffee.

 Looking fondly back at the memories of his experiences before he had begun officially dating his current and wonderful partner, Lian slowly formulated his answer momentarily shifting his gaze to the upper left corner of his visual field, “for one thing, it makes your heart race.” With the fond memories of their little dates, cooking mishaps, and intimate moments flooding into his mind, the caladrius couldn’t hold back a smile, his lips curling despite trying to hold it back to keep himself more serious. How could he though? Reece was truly a source of happiness and there was no way he could ever pretend he wasn’t. 

As if to interrupt before Lian got too caught up in la-la land and become stuck with that lovestruck smile of his, Niko furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, “I don’t have a pulse, remember?” The second the words were out, the brunette found himself internally and visibly cringing. He didn’t like being reminded of his non-human nature much, and despite having been in this undead state for centuries, it was never easy to accept. Bringing his knees to his chest, Niko pulled his back away from the couch and hunched forward to rest his head on his knees as his gauze-covered arms wrapped around the sides of his legs.

How could he forget something like that? What an absolute mistake! He should’ve known not to mention that sort of thing with Niko involved! Argh! 

Completely torn away from reminiscing, Lian returned his gaze to his not-vampire companion, hoping to salvage the conversation, “then, have you felt warm inside? Any fuzziness maybe? A desire or tugging feeling that makes you want to be closer? Thoughts drifting to someone in particular?” His list was hopefully better than his initial marker and better suited for his roommate’s predicament.

With the list of possible markers of budding romance, Niko’s gaze moved sharply to the bottom right corner of his vision, fixing on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch and the edges of his bandaged up, charred beyond belief foot (as noted by the non-existent presence of toes and black skin peaking through the gaps in the gauze). Did his thoughts drift to her? Did he feel warm inside? Did he want to be with her more? The questions swirled in the corpse’s mind as he reflected over his time with a certain dark-haired woman who lived in the woods, the one who also lived in the night and whose diet similarly consisted of the blood of humans around her.

He reflected on the time he had caught her wandering legs before the sun broke over the horizon line and the way her frantic confession of feelings died on her tongue when he revealed them to her, how that confession to being friends somehow made him feel  good inside. He reflected on the day they first held hands while trudging through a steep hill that was difficult for him to climb with the hindrance that was his prosthetic foot (the warmth of her hand in his, the way it fit into his, how quickly she had reached to squeeze his despite the chilling reminder of his dead state). He recalled the times they’d meet up in winter, with him making surprise visits and her naturally accommodating his presence as if she had expected him to come from the start. They had shared a blanket as they huddled in front of the fireplace to keep warm. He had listened to her beautiful piano playing (it was beautiful to him regardless of her protests). They had gone to see a late-night performance all dressed up once too, and that experience almost felt like the first time he had gone on a date with his now deceased fiancée. For the holidays, they had exchanged gifts consisting of a handcrafted pendant necklace and a woolen trench coat, and he vividly recalled how he didn’t want to leave that day.

“When I’m with her, I… don’t want to leave.” His voice was soft, almost incomprehensible mumbling. 

All of this was only recalling the events themselves and not counting the memories of those vulnerable conversations, the days where they opened up to each other about the lives they used to have, the things they lost and things that still hurt to this day. Niko wouldn’t say that she filled any missing pieces and gaps, but the memories and experiences being with her provided helped him let go of the nightmares and eased the pain of the loss that had been haunting him for so many years. When she wasn’t there, he’d find himself consumed by immense loneliness, and the only way he could cope with that was to sleep. The nights with her were bright and the nights without her were almost despairingly dim.

“With her, I feel safe and comforted.” The corpse couldn’t help but begin to fidget with the strings that held his wooden prosthetic in place. Saying all of this out loud wasn’t easy. 

Surely, this was enough to piece it together. Niko already had an inkling as to what he was feeling, but acknowledging it properly was a different story altogether. Maybe he needed Lian to talk sense into him for this, to push him to actually take that tangible step into moving on from the past that dragged him down. To leave the rest of what he knew was part of him behind—that was what paralyzed him. How would he fare without those anchors that his traumatic death left him with? Although the chains were weakening, Niko wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I want to hold her close… hold her hand, share meals together, share blankets, watch the stars…” 

His timid string of answers came to a stop. Niko buried his face in his knees, already feeling the embarrassment kick in despite the blood not rushing to his face (it wasn’t possible for him to blush with no blood circulation after all). Placing a bony hand to the back of his neck, he hoped his deathly cold temperature would help settle this unnerving, gentle warmth. 

Noticing that Niko had said his piece, Lian’s smile returned, although this one was more akin to a more muted and comforting one, meant to convey a support without being overwhelming. Shifting his mostly-empty coffee mug to his other hand, he reached over with his newly freed one to carefully ruffle the thin and messy dark brown locks of hair on his friend’s head, “that sounds like your version of love to me.” With how much he knew about Niko’s past relationship with Amelia, this description was how it seemed the emotion manifested for him. 

Just then, the front door burst open, the force strong enough for the door to slam itself on the adjacent wall, and a shorter boy with fluffy fern green tinted dark colored hair and large glasses entered the home and raced into the living room with an exclamation that bounced off the walls, “Niko is in love with someone?!!” 

God damn it, Naoki!

Despite both of them being stunned from the sudden return of their other roommate, the two whose conversation was clearly interrupted turned towards the teenager, nearly glaring at him for his awful timing. Niko had lifted his head from his knees; his glare was much harsher than the kinder one of Lian’s. 

“You’ve grown so much, Niko! I’m so proud of you!” the boy almost mockingly cheered as he pulled out a cloth handkerchief to wipe away ‘tears’ at the edges of his eyes.

“Aren’t I older than you?” the corpse argued back, his earlier timidness easily replaced with annoyance and irritation.

“Details, details,” Naoki said in sing-song as he tucked the cloth into his jacket pocket. Resting on the couch’s arm chair, he propped his elbow on it and leaned his head against his hand, ultimately forcing himself into Niko’s personal space as a mischievous grin stretched across his face, “what I wanna know is who managed to capture your unbeating, dead heart.”

Niko pulled away, pursing his lips in defiance as he refused to comment on Naoki’s line of inquiry.

“It’s Analyn isn’t it?” the youth pressed with a knowing laugh.

Startled, Niko’s stern silence fell to reveal his flusteredness from before, “How did you—?”

“The trees of course!” Naoki beamed in false innocence, smiling in such a way that would serve to tip people into acting on their anger if they weren’t used to his antics, “how else do I keep up with all of you and your little fun times that happen when I’m not here?” With the last remark, he had momentarily acknowledged Lian, and of course the blond knew exactly what he was referring to—a red hue beginning to blossom on his face as the realization dawned on him.

Right, the kid is a tree spirit. He was a nosy, intrusive tree yokai that loved to have fun without regard to the expense of others. 

For a second, the caladrius’ attention was fixed on the tall trees in the backyard that were visible from this very room. The privacy… all the times he spent here cuddling with Reece, watching movies, the lovey-doveyness they acted on routinely, the times they sort of went further— he wanted to cry right about now. 

“A-Anyhow, good luck on confessing!” Lian stammered out, hastily making his way toward the kitchen before Naoki could spill the beans, leaving Niko there alone to deal with the younger boy’s irritating presence. 

#* ✭ ❪❪ queue ❫. #* ✭ ❪❪ drabbles ❫. #* ✭ ❪❪ lian ↠ in character ❫. #* ✭ ❪❪ niko ↠ in character ❫. #;; why do I write these mainly from Lian's perspective my god #;; ig it's because he /is/ head of the house lol

[charliedawn]

Good news, I got to go trick or treating for the second time in my life tonight!! My disability makes cold nights really difficult for me, but I felt good enough to go and it was the best thing ever!!!!! I got so many Reece’s I’m so so happy!! I dressed up as corpse bride and got a lot of compliments on my face paint! I also made my own bouquet of fake flowers and had the soundtrack playing quietly on my phone, so everyone was impressed and I’m SO HAPPY EVERYONE LIKED IT!! We also ran a haunted house, and we had everyone screaming, it was so much fun!! One guy was dressed as Jason, and I immediately hugged him, which says a lot about what your blog had done to me. I hope you have a lovely Halloween Charlie, and I hope everyone on this blog does too!! Happy Halloween to the slashers too, but I’ll send them another message tomorrow when they are in better control. Happy Halloween!!

Author : "That's nice dear. Happy Halloween to you and I hope you get to enjoy every single minute."

[grindhousefunhouse]

ONE OF THE CRAZIEST SLASHER KILLS EVER! | In A Violent Nature (2024) | Movie Review

Are you in the mood for an arthouse/backwoods/experimental Canadian slasher?

You're just in luck!

Check out my review for "A Violent Nature" written and directed by Chris Nash that will be in a theater near you on May 31st.

What's different about this slasher is that it's shot almost entirely through the killer's POV.

Synopsis:

When a locket is removed from a collapsed fire tower in the woods that entombs the rotting corpse of Johnny, a vengeful spirit spurred on by a horrific 60-year old crime, his body is resurrected and becomes hellbent on retrieving it.

Directed by Chris Nash and starring Ry Barrett, Andrea Pavlovic, Cameron Love, Reece Presley and Liam Leone.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqxIeXgiXCM

PLEASE LIKE! SHARE! & SUBSCRIBE!

➤ Merch Store : https://www.etsy.com/shop/GrindhouseFunhouse

• INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/grindhousefunhouse • FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/grindhousefunhouse • REDDIT: https://www.reddit.com/r/grindhousefunhouse

#in a violent nature #in a violent nature review #slasher movie #backwoods slasher

[themnmovieman]

Movie Review ~ In a Violent Nature

In a Violent Nature Synopsis: When a locket is removed from a collapsed fire tower in the woods that entombs the rotting corpse of a vengeful spirit spurred on by a horrific 60-year-old crime, his body is resurrected, and he becomes hellbent on retrieving it.Stars: Ry Barrett, Andrea Pavlovic, Cameron Love, Reece Presley, Liam Leone, Charlotte Creaghan, Lea Rose Sebastianis, Sam Roulston,…

View On WordPress

#Alexander Oliver #Andrea Pavlovic #Cameron Love #Charlotte Creaghan #Chris Nash #In A Violent Nature #Lea Rose Sebastianis #Liam Leone #Reece Presley #Ry Barrett #Sam Roulston #Serial Killer #Shudder #Slasher

[wavehq]

enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, marshall lee abadeer ( adventure time ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, venus!

( adventure time, dupes not allowed. reece king, he/they, demi man ) ——- hey, is that ( marshall lee abadeer ) hanging around ( sour candy )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty - six ) year old ( musician ) and ( being a nuisance to those who are dear to him )? they’re notorious for being ( charming ) yet ( unrefined ), and i always seem to hear ( CODE MISTAKE ) by ( CORPSE ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( playing his guitar at the most random street spots ), and they’re associated with ( black leather layered atop a red flannel, shiny white fangs tainted by spots of red, & a six-stringed axe designed with sheer willpower ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( his complicated past with gumball ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ venus, 25 / est, she/her. ]

#adventure time rp #multifandom rp #discord rp #panfandom rp #appless rp #whq.accept

[judeswhore]

MASON AND READER DRESS UP IN THAT ONE COSTUME MAGGIE LINDERMAN AND HER MANS WORE IN LIKE 2018 AHHHHHH or they dress up as victor and emily from corpse bride🥺

OKAY BUT MAGGIE LOOKED SO HOT

also in which mason gets pouty because you beat him in beer pong

malaria and grim - mason mount

“Oh you two look hot,” Were the first words out of Reece’s mouth the second he opened his front door. The inside of his house already seemed overflowing with people, some in Halloween costumes, some not and even though you and Mason were hardly late, everyone already seemed on the edge of being drunk. “What are you meant to be?”

You glanced at your boyfriend, dressed head to toe in black, the only hint of colour being the red inside of his cloak and the white make up on his face. You agreed with Reece though, even with skull make up covering his face Mason looked incredible and definitely the human embodiment of sin.

“Malaria and Grim obviously.” You did a little twirl in the doorway, slow so that Reece could take in your outfit of tight black dress, black Docs, elbow length black gloves and a black choker. Unlike Mason, your face make up was pretty normal apart from a shading of purple blush all across your face.

“Not sure who they are but you’re definitely the best dressed, plus you get points for it being all matchy and shit.” Mason narrowed his eyes slightly, head tilting to the side.

“Please don’t tell me you actually organised some sort of costume contest.”

“Of course I did. I wanted to make sure most people dressed up.” You finally took in Reece’s costume and weren’t at all surprised that he’d dressed up as the joker, you knew his girlfriend would be around about somewhere dressed like Harley Quinn.

“Well, James, if we don’t win just know I’ll never make you another spotify playlist again.” The boy opposite you rolled his eyes at your dramatics and stepped back from the door.

“Stop trying to cheat and get inside it’s freezing out there.” Mason placed his hand on your lower back and led you into the house, fingers slipping around your waist within seconds.

"That twirl was pretty hot." He mumbled into your ear, breath stirring your hair and you couldn't hold back your little shiver. You could feel the imprint of his hand on your skin and it was embarrassing how just one touch from him could make your knees so incredibly weak.

"Wait till I've had a few shots." You glanced up at him, sliding your hand up to wrap your fingers around his arm, clinging to him as he led you through the crowd of people. Mason’s smile turned into a smirk and the butterflies that took off in your stomach were almost immediate.

“Offering me a lap dance, sweetheart?”

“If you behave yourself.” Mason was leading you towards the kitchen, already eager for a drink since it was the first time he’d actually had alcohol in a while. The kitchen was flooded with people and Mason was careful to keep you tucked into his side while you walked through, your gaze flickering around everyone’s costumes. You’d seen three people dressed as angels already and knew for a fact one of those girls would be complaining.

“Want a drink?” Mason asked, tapping his fingers against your hip to get your attention. He was standing in front of a bag of red solo cups and you nodded, turning again to look for Ben, who’d told you he was already at the party. “Wait here a second, yeah? I’m gonna get the vodka.” Your boyfriend disappeared in the sea of people and you leant against the counter, phone in hand so you could text Ben.

He replied within seconds, a photo of him by the beer pong table in the dining area with an invitation for you and Mason to join him and Declan. Mason arrived back just as you were tucking your phone back into your purse and kissed your forehead in greeting, fingers passing you a red cup.

“Vodka cranberry just as the lady likes.”

“Where’d you get the cranberry from?”

“Made Reece buy some for you.” This had you grinning and pushing up on to your tip toe to kiss him, free hand curling around his neck. Mason made a soft noise in the back of his throat, teeth clashing against yours because of his own smile. “Mauling me in public, Y/N, at least take me upstairs.”

“Can’t ruin your make up, Mase, guess you’ll have to wait until we get home.” Your teasing had him pushing you against the counter top, hands against the wood by your side to keep you caged in.

“Aren’t I usually the one trying not to ruin your make up?”

“No, you’re the one usually trying to ruin my make up.” You reached up to pull the hood of his cloak up, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you took in how good he looked. Who knew the Grim Reaper could be so sexy? “I think this is the hottest you’ve ever looked. Reckon you could wear it all the time?”

“Are we discovering a new kink? Grim Reaper role play?” Your nose scrunched at this and you shook your head on disgust, the look on your face making Mason laugh, his fingers reaching for your chin so he could pull you in for another kiss. “Yeah maybe not, I might keep it on for tonight though.” His mouth covered yours before you could even reply, body pressing firmly against yours.

“Jesus Christ, every time I see you two lately you’re attempting to swallow each other.” You knew it was Ben before you even saw him and fixed him with a glare when you pulled back from Mason. Your best friend sent you a playful grin, eyebrows wiggling as he gestured to himself. “What do you think?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“I’m Cruella.” Ben did a twirl almost identical to yours early, bowing when he was facing the two of you again. “I wanted to be authentic and Emma Stone did an amazing job.” Before you could answer Ben pointed his finger. “I thought I told you to meet us at the beer pong table, Dec said he’s gonna leave if you don’t hurry up.”

You heard Mason’s mumbled complaint about his own best friend being unnecessarily annoying but nodded his head. He slipped his hand on to your lower back again, gently nudging you to follow Ben who’d swiped an almost full bottle of vodka from behind Reece’s bread bin.

“Who did your makeup?” He asked, pointing the bottle in Mason’s direction. It wasn’t even 10PM yet and you already knew Ben was drunk, you wondered how long he’d been at the party.

“The girl Y/N goes to for her nails. You know who we are right?”

“Of course, Malaria and Grim, iconic as shit.“ The three of you had made it to the beer pong table and Declan, dressed in a cowboy outfit, was leant against it, a bottle raised to his lips. He whistled when he saw you and Mason.

“Power couple of the year right here. Bro you look sick.” He pulled Mason into a weird man hug, slapping him on the back before pulling you into a hug. “Beautiful as always, Y/N.”

“I like your boots.” You told him, eyes slipping to the brown cowboy boots covering his feet.

“You should, you know how fucking long it took me to find a pair of these? Too long.” He took a swig of his drink and then wiggled his eyebrows at you and Mason. “Me and Mase against you and Chilly? Battle of the besties?” Your lips tilted into a smile, already knowing you had this in the bag, you and Ben were basically champions at beer pong when you were together.

“Don’t cry when you lose, boys.” You downed the liquid in your cup and then settled yourself on one end of the table, Ben settling in beside you. Declan set up the cups and then handed you the ping pong ball.

“Head start.”

“You’re so big headed.”

Your shot was easy, ball landing in the closest cup and you watched with a grin when Declan grimaced after down the liquid inside. He shook his hands out, handing the little ball to Mason.

“Come on man, we’ve got this.” Mason’s eyes met yours across the table and you leant forward, hands propping you up, arms deliberately pushing your boobs together. His gaze dipped lower and you watched the way his throat bobbed on a swallow, eyes unable to tear away from your body as you grinned at him.

“Good luck, Masey.” He blinked suddenly and threw the ball but his eyes were darting between you and the cups and the ball bounced off the rim and landed on the floor. You sucked in a breath as your straightened up, pouting playfully at your boyfriend who knew exactly what you were doing. “Better luck next time, baby.”

Declan and Mason were shit. Declan had clearly drank too much and his aim was off and Mason couldn’t keep his eyes off your tits long enough to focus on where his ball was going. When you had Declan downing his last drink, Ben turned to you, his hand raised ready for your signature hand shake. You let out a giggle as you did it, dancing on the spot while Declan and Mason complained.

“That’s not fair, Y/N has an advantage over us.” Declan’s grumbled, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. You frowned at this, picking up Mason’s vodka coke he still hadn’t finished. You watched him over the rim of the cup, his eyebrows drawn together.

“How’d you work that out?” Ben asked, already setting more cups up on the table, determined to keep playing all night.

“She went to uni, she had freshers experience.”

“That means nothing, you’re just shit compared to her.”

“You kept pushing your boobs up whenever it was my go.” Mason spoke up, eyes narrowed across the table at you.

“Did not.”

“Yeah you did, princess. Might as well have just took your dress off.” You lips tilted into a teasing smirk behind your cup, gaze locked on your cheek obviously upset boyfriend. You knew Mason hated losing at anything but that only made you want to win even more because you’d learned over the years that he was the absolute worst sore loser.

“Who’s fault is it for being distracted by them? You’ve seen them before, Mase, they’re not new.” His eyes narrowed even more and his lips tilted into a pout when Ben barked out a laugh, coughing to cover it up.

“You cheated.”

“We won fair and square, Mount, you might just wanna be on my team next.” You finished Mason’s drink off, placing the cup down on the table.

“I don’t work with cheaters.” He told you and you rolled your eyes, sliding past Ben so you could move over to Mason. You wrapped your arms around his neck, playfully patting his cheek.

“You’re a terrible loser, you know that?”

“You’re a filthy player.”

“Can’t help that I’m just so incredible at beer pong. Want me to teach you some of my tricks?” Mason’s eyes slid to your boobs and you knew what he was going to say immediately.

“I don’t have those to distract you with.” You hummed in reply, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, ignoring the mumbled complaint from Ben.

“No but you have other things.”

“So you’re admitting you do cheat?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d win if I didn’t show you my tits.” Mason tilted his head at this, fingers grazing down your waist and over your hips.

“Oh really?” You nodded and then he stepped back, shrugging his cloak off and moving to wrap it around your shoulders instead. You let out a laugh, shaking your head at how ridiculous he was, why he couldn’t just accept defeat and move on was beyond you. “Go on then, rematch.”

“Y’know, Mase, you’re just showing everyone your weaknesses here. Everyone knows you’re like a teenager when you see tits.” Mason just grinned at you, thumb swiping over his bottom lip.

“Shut up and fill your cups, sweetheart, then we’ll see what you’ve got to say.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader

[add1ss0n]

Spyder. You literally have an empty space in the void housing Klondike's spirit corpse, her living body that you are pretend dating her girlfriend with, and connections to an entity fragmented across space and time. But you don't believe Reece is piloting Pink's body right now? The only reason we're even telling you is because of the triplets. I'd love to see you dead, but I'm not doing them dirty like that.

#anon #add1ss0n #spyder posts #significant lore posts

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Danny had just finished dealing with one problem when a sort of old problem reared it's ugly head and made itself a priority.   For once, he may have to deal with a supernatural entity the same way any Fenton traditionally would.

trigger warning for suicide mention and school shooting mention

“Uh, well, I know a way I can help.”  Danny smiled, rubbing the back of his head.  “Sorry for making that wish without asking your permission but I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”

“I’m certain.”  Desiree sighed and turned to fly away, but Danny couldn’t just let her go like that.  People made wishes haphazardly all the time, and interpretation was a horrible thing to mix magick into.

“I wish that you were free of the curse that was laid on you.”  She froze, turning to stare at him with wide red eyes.  Pink and green light gathered around her fingertips and she raised her hands.

“So you have wished it… so shall it be.”  A cloud of smoke enveloped her like a cocoon, and Danny squinted into it.  A wave of force exploded from the cloud and all the booths shook with the energy released, Danny being knocked to the ground.  When he looked up, Desiree was blue-skinned, her silver armbands violet and her dress a dark green.  Eyes like stars looked down upon her new form, bottom half still a cloud of wispy mist, and she slowly began to smile and laugh.  “I’m… free?  I’m free!  Thank you, Danny, thank you so much!”  She flicked her hand, pink and blue ripples of light fixing up the cotton candy explosion and even setting Danny on his feet properly.  “I had thought I’d never be free of that wretched curse!”

“No problem!  Just, if you can avoid it, please don’t go hurting anyone?”  She arched a brow at him and Danny winced.  “I mean, I’m kind of trying to keep everyone, ghosts and humans alike, safe in my town, you know?”

“I cannot promise not to hurt anyone but I won’t be staying in this Realm for long.”  Desiree smiled, a sharp and dangerous baring of teeth and a gaze fixed on something far beyond them that Danny felt pity for.  “After all, I have to find the fool who did this to me and show him how it feels.  And then, I’ll return to my own realm, and a queendom of my own shall be mine!”  She laughed, lights and swirls of colors that his brain had no way of making sense of dancing around her, and throughout the park.  After a moment, she sighed and patted his head.  “Thank you, Danny.  Stay safe.”  And in a swirl of pink that might not have actually been pink, she was gone.

Danny took a moment to feel all warm and tingly inside about how he helped someone so easily, and then he let everything slide past him and through him, flying into the ground and then back up under the table.  The cold of his ghost curled back up into a ball somewhere within him and his skin regained its color and warmth, the world settling back into a thin extreme indigo lense.  He crawled out from under the table cloth and found Tucker, staring at where he had been, and tackled him.  They tumbled to the ground with a yelp from Tucker and Danny laughed, rolling away from the zap of the belt.  “Dude, Desiree is a Jinni!  I wished for a dick and now I have magickally transitioned.”

“Don’t let my being crushed into the ground by you fool ya, I’m genuinely overjoyed for you about that.”  Tucker lifted his head and laughed, deactivating the Specter Deflector before dragging Danny into a hug in the grass.  The hug lasted longer than he felt this deserved, even if he was over the moon about it.  It was also tighter than it should be, and Tucker’s gold was streaked with all kinds of wild blurples, marshons and even some grick.

“Dude, are you alright?”  Danny patted Tucker’s back when he just squeezed tighter and sighed.  “Ok.  We can do this, but like, we’re gonna get stepped on.”  Tucker relented, finally, and they got up, dusting the dirt and grass from their clothes before Danny was hugged, again.  “Tuck?”

“I… we need to talk, with the others too.”  Well, this promised to be interesting at least.  A good distraction from what happened before, hopefully.

It was not, in fact, a good distraction from the shapeshifter that had essentially murdered him (Sam was not the cause, no matter what she probably thought, and he needed to tell her that at some point, she deserved to hear it).  No, instead Danny, Sydney and through the skype call Sam listened to Tucker tell them about how he’d wished that Danny hadn’t gone into the portal and apparently all hell broke loose from that.  On one hand, it was almost freeing to know that even if Danny hadn’t caved to peer pressure like an idiot, the portal still would’ve been wrong when it turned on.  It ached to know that if he hadn’t died in there, his sister would’ve died out here.

But the burning in Danny’s soul was nothing, apparently, compared to Sydney.  “Wait, Tucker, did you say, Spectra?  As in Penelope Spectra?”  Oh boy, Danny knew that tone and he didn’t like it.

“Yes…” Tucker backed up a bit, while Danny shifted to stand in front of him, hand in his pocket.  “She’s the guidance counselor at Casp-”

Sydney glitched, glitched hard.  His features stretched, twisted, overlapped before settling on the image of a corpse, blood dripping from his mouth and the back of his skull as he hissed fury that made the skype call lag and crackle with static.  “Penelope Spectra should be dead like the rest of us!  I- show me a picture of her.  Now!”

“Ok, ok,” Tucker said, pulling up a picture from the school’s website.  “There’s surely plenty of people with that name, Sydney, no need to freak out.”

Except, he did.  When they pulled up the image of a ginger woman with hair done up in what looked almost like horns and a red business suit, the air around Sydney shone with green and his eyes were pits of red light.  “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!  NO ONE CAN SURVIVE A BULLET TO THE HEAD LIKE THAT!  I SURE AS HELL DIDN’T AND NEITHER DID ANY OF THE OTHER BULLIES LIKE HER!”

Tucker, slowly, exited the browser and reactivated his Specter Deflector™ while Danny gently tugged Sydney back from the screen.  It stung, the dark reddish colors radiating off Sydney like heat, anger that wasn’t his own boiling in his chest.  Danny took a slow, deep breath, and when he breathed out he pushed the anger out of him with it.  “Breathe with me, Syd.  Can you do that?”

“I’m dead buster.”

“Yeah, and you don’t need to breathe, but can you?”  The glitching slowed ever so slightly, and Danny brought his energy as close to the surface as he could while still human.   “In and out, c’mon.  In,” the heat receded, concentrated, burned darker for it.  “Out.”  It dissipated in waves, ripples of static on his screens and Tucker grabbed the laptop to keep the current from ruining it.  They did that, breathing, for a while until Sydney looked less like a floating corpse and more like a monochrome translucent image.  He rubbed his arms and looked away while Danny turned to lock eyes with Tucker.  Tucker was busily typing away on the laptop now that nothing was interfering with the wifi signal.  “Tuck?”

“It’s a good thing Sydney stays away from the school,” he muttered, Sam snorting over the line.  “Is it possible for an unagitated ghost to have some color and look like a human being?”

“Uh, not that I know about.”  Danny glanced at Sydney and gave him a pat on the back.  “Syd?”

“I-I don’t know… I’ve been a bit stuck, on the other side you know?”  Sydney was becoming fuzzier at the edges and Danny sighed when he realized the other boy was invisible.  “Maybe someone else would know.”

“Right,” Tucker drawled.  “Syd, do you wanna come with us to go ask Agatha about this?  If we’re dealing with a well-hidden ghost, then I wanna make sure you two are on top of your game.  A hearty meal, or I guess a ghouly meal, is essential for any fight.”

Sydney at least flickered back into something easier on the eyes if not fully there, and he chuckled.  “Uh, maybe?  Who’s Agatha?”

“Agatha Reece,” Sam said over the call, pausing to cough into her arm.  “She’s the ghost of a lunch lady at Casper.”  Sydney’s white eyes went wider than humanly possible, a touch of sepia seeping into his greyscale.

“Ah, you know what, I think I’ll just head out and go see some sights.  I’m sure you two don’t need me to help you grab a snack.”  With that, Sydney flew through Tucker’s ceiling, and Danny leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh on his lips.  It felt like a lot of pressure just rose off of his chest, though there another pressure entirely coming from his swirling thoughts.

“It’s a damn good thing I got Sydney out of the school before he actually saw Dash doing the shit I ranted to him about.”  They all laughed at that, and Danny felt a bit lighter still.  “Though, I imagine school’d be pretty interesting without him.”

“Yeah, we could actually walk around without worrying about getting shoved into a locker.”  Tucker stretched his limbs out, and Danny felt an ache in his joints just at the reminder.  “What a stereotype.”

“As much as I’m glad to cheer on the virtues of Jazz’s therapy sessions with Sydney,” Sam cut in with a shaky, light laugh of her own.  “We still need to figure this Spectra thing out.”

“I’m looking her up and while she’s not stupid enough to use the same name over and over again, her picture is sorta everywhere over the past five decades,” Tucker muttered.  Danny got up and rested his chin on Tucker’s shoulder, taking in the image of a barely, if at all, changing face go throughout the ages back to the 50s.  “Cause if she’s a ghost, she’s gotta be using a lot of energy to keep looking like that.”

“That’s if she’s a ghost,” Sam said.  There was a long moment of quiet after that, and Sam went off-screen, grabbing some book that looked older than Spectra.  “Guys, you just said a Jinni flew off to get revenge on a ghost, how do we know there aren’t other things out there.”

“Mom and Dad have been to other places before…” Danny felt his hand slipping out of reality as the realization hit him like a football to the face.  “They’ve made so many windows to other places and then if a drone could survive going in, they went in, and then Jazz and I went in with them.  Holy shit, what if there was stuff in there we just couldn’t see?”

“What did Sydney and Agatha call the other side?”  Sam sniffled.  “The Infinite Realms?  There’s probably a whole lot of things that Spectra could be.”

“Based on this track record of depression, she’s either a shitty psychologist who doesn’t get how the human mind works, or she’s fucking up people’s lives on purpose.”  Tucker shifted so Danny could see the news article that he was looking at better.  “That’s a lot of people who went from average mental states to killing themselves, or going into self-isolation.”

“Maybe she likes ruining people’s lives,” Sam muttered.  “There’s plenty of legends and myths about things that like to do that.  Danny, have your parents made anything that might help reveal a supernatural being hiding as a human?”

“I… maybe?  I’ll have to check, I haven’t been paying attention to their weapons or anything lately.”  He had been actively avoiding anything offensive that his parents made besides the plasma rifle he had.  He wasn’t looking to have things go off on him, after all.  “Tuck, you check with Agatha about what Spectra might be and I’ll head home, see what Mom and Dad have worked on.  Sam, you see if you can find anything on, I dunno, emotional vampires or straight-up assholes who love ruining lives in folklore.”

“Can do, captain, but there’s a lot of the latter in every kind of story.”  Sam offered a wave before ending the call and Danny sighed, sagging in his chair.

“Look at you, takin charge like a hero.”  Tucker hugged him again, and Danny leaned into his side.

“Yeah.  Let’s hope I can keep being a hero.”

#TW suicide mention #tw school shooting mention #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Desiree #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Sydney Poindexter #fanfiction #fanfic #phanfiction #phanfic #fanphiction #fanphic #phanphiction #phanphic #Monstrous to Supernatural #MtS #Rexy Writes