Wattpad Fanfics Are So Like Crazy Bc You'll Always Like See THE MOST INTERESTING FUCKING INTRODUCTIONS

Wattpad fanfics are so like crazy bc you'll always like see THE MOST INTERESTING FUCKING INTRODUCTIONS TO THE STORY AND CHARACTER BUT THEN THE AUTHOR DISSAPEARS OF THE FACE OF THE EARTH WHEN THE FANFIC JUST STARTS TO GET INTERESTING. OR THEY END REALLY SATISFYINGLY BUT USUALLY ITS THE FORMER AND LIKE IS WATTPAD CURSED OR SOMETHING (Wouldn't doubt that it is) BUT SERIOUSLY WHAT DEITY IS CAUSING THESE TALENTED PEOPLE TO DISSAPEAR

I don't think there's a single completed Darkiplier fanfic on wattpad that hasn't included Antisepticeye at some point, even if it's in a sequel fic. And I eat it tf up every time because i live for Antisepticeye vs. Darkiplier kinda shit So basically, when in doubt, turn Anti into a plot device

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE CHASE

Spirits

In my defense, it was a fantastic pun. And sometimes you just gotta pour one out for the homies. On a different note, I hurt my own feelings writing this.

Ghost!Chase x GN!Reader, TW: alcohol, grief, death, funeral mention, human experimentation mention Words: 870

You get out of your car in the graveyard parking lot, the anniversary of Chase’s death. It’s gotten a little easier over the years, but it’s still hard to believe he’s gone. You take the grocery bag out of the back seat, heading through the gates to find his grave. You know where it is, your feet almost take you there by themselves, you’ve walked the path so many times. That laboratory deemed his death a “non-preventable casualty” and refused to give any details, and something inside you has told you it wasn’t an accident.

You pull your hood over your ears, the chill autumn air sending shivers down your spine. Just like you do every year, you stare at his gravestone, almost like you’re processing all over again that he’s truly gone. Like you never fully believed it. And you don’t even know if you ever will. You set the bag down, getting down on one knee as you rustle through it. From the bag you pull out a bottle of whiskey, an energy drink, and a small bouquet of flowers. Old flowers are discarded, long dried out and abandoned. You hold the beverages in your hands, staring at the labels. They’re his favorites, ironic how the drinks you tried to get him to stop drinking end up being the things you bring to his grave.

You pop the cork of the whiskey and open the can of energy drink, watching as the two pour out onto the ground, sinking deep into the ground. Something about it feels, good almost. Making a danger cocktail for him, exactly like the ones he used to try and get you to drink. When there’s nothing more than a few sips in each left, you down them yourself, making a face but, you do it for him.

You get comfortable, talking to him about how life has been this year. The ups, the downs, how you still check on his brothers for him. Trying to do best by him while also living your life. It’s a difficult balance, but you have support keeping you upright. When you run out of things to say, you set the whiskey bottle on the lip of the headstone, placing the flowers inside. It’s what he would’ve wanted. As you walk away, something inside you pulls you back, looking at his name on the stone. Through tears, you give him one last fistbump, for old time’s sake.

You step away, wiping your eyes on your sleeve as you take your trash back to your car.

“WAIT-“

You stop in your tracks, not believing what you heard. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank the whiskey and energy drink…

“Dude! I know you can hear me!”

You spin around to be faced with an apparition of Chase, ghostly blue but he almost looks solid in the evening light.

“Chase-“

You cautiously reach out to him, hand colliding with his chest. He’s cold, but he’s there. Your hands move to his shoulders, looking at him through tears before pulling him into a hug. All you can manage out are sobs, apologies, scoldings for leaving you without him, anything you can think to say to him now that you know he’s listening.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. Well, I’m not, I’m a ghost. But I thought you could help me with that…”

The idea of getting your friend back makes your heart leap, maybe, maybe you could fix things between the two of you. Confess the things you always wanted to.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, dude.”

“My body… isn’t here. It’s still at the facility. I didn’t even know I had a grave, although I guess I should’ve expected that.”

“It- it’s not here!?”

You fish through your memories of the funeral, realizing you never saw Chase in that casket. The top was always closed.

“They said the lid was closed because you were disfigured…”

“Yeah that’s a load of bullshit. They were the ones that killed me. They’re trying to use my body as a vessel for… something.”

Your face is a mixture of horror and disgust, which makes Chase chuckle a little bit.

“So… we’re breaking your body out of prison?”

“I mean, that’s one way of putting it.”

“And your brothers? They’ll want to see you. Want to help.”

“I know! I know! But, I wanted to see you first. I didn’t realize you still cared.”

“I always cared, Chase. No matter what your thoughts said. I thought I was waiting for you to come back to me emotionally, not spiritually…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to. But, they grabbed me. The facility-“

“You need to talk to Henrik about that, later. Right now, I have my boy back. And we’ll get your body back, I promise.”

“Your boy… I forgot you called me that.”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

“Always. Please.”

You look at each other for a moment, before you pull him to your chest, kissing the top of his head.

“Let's get you home. See your brothers. Marv will be able to help in the short term.”

“You’re staying, right?”

“Wouldn’t leave you even if they decided it was my turn to go to that facility.”

He's so gorgeous

hmmmm do u really not like Jack's current style as much or is it just that less people post their fav pics of him at his prettiest on your feed like they used to