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prodbymaui · 2 years ago

Text

To See Is To Not Believe

let a hoe know, I ain't motherfuckin' sharing

PAIRING: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

GENRE: bad boy's good girl

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

WARNINGS: possessive behavior, murder, alcohol consumption, mention of drugs, sexual harassment (not from dh), misogyny and brief homophobia (not from dh as well), choking kink, cum eating, reader is blinded by love, ex-convict!donghyuck

SYNOPSIS: A man tried to force himself on you and your boyfriend didn't liked that one bit.

A/N: Big emphasis on reader being blinded by love!! A massive portion of this fic will contain sexual harassment scene so please be cautious, it ends when the intruder comes in. With that being said, enjoy reading!

Don't like, don't read.

DEPICTION ≠ ENDORSEMENT

Red, blue, purple.

Those are the lights that illuminate the whole club. Together with the loud blasting music and people endlessly chattering, they create a high tension vibe that gets anyone on their tippy toes, dancing carelessly as they drink to their limits. It's amusing how these people find solace in a chaotic environment.

Roaming your eyes, your lips purses around the end of the glass as you sip your 3rd Cape Codder of the night, grimacing at the faint bitter taste coming from the vodka. You're not much of a drinker, hence opting to tend your throat and stomach with fruity or sweet cocktails. Non-alcoholic drinks are off the list as you don't want to miss the fun of getting tipsy.

You flinch when an arm settles on the back of the chair you're sitting on. A man around his late 30s clad in a black tank top and baggy pants is the culprit. ''Are you alone? You are, aren't you? Did your friends leave you? That's too bad– maybe I can be your temporary friend for now. I promise I'm one hell of a good one.''

He leans forward, making you frown in disgust at the foul smell emitting from him. Ugly, bad fashion taste, pervert, and fucking stinky. When God precipitated a rain of misfortunes, you bet he was fucking swimming during that moment. It's so bad that you have to scoot away from the man, not wanting his scent to stick on you.

''Aww, come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that.''

''I-I have.. I'm with someone.'' Your eyes shake, looking around in hopes of catching even the mere shadow of your boyfriend who informed you he'll be meeting his friends roughly 15 minutes ago. There's none.

''Uh-huh, and where are they? Nadda. Gone. Like a fucking demonic ghost when presented a crucifix.'' The man rumbles a laugh as if what he said is the best joke one ever heard about. You don't find it funny though.

Just as his hand is reaching to touch your face, your body reacts faster than your brain can. The shocked and angry face of the man was the last thing you saw before you stood up and headed towards the bathroom, chewing on your lower lip as you remember the forming red mark on the side of his face. You enter one of the cubicles, only to come out minutes later when you realize you don't even feel like such substances desire to leave your body.

Playing with the water running from the faucet in an attempt to take your mind off the event that took place earlier, you hum. Said water splashes everywhere on the counter when the familiar voice echoes the whole bathroom, sweaty and sticky limbs clinging around you, trapping you. This is fucking awful.

Instinctively, you move to flee. ''Ge-get off of me! Stop! I don't like you! Stop, you're disgusting! Get your hands off of me, I have a boyfriend!'' Tears prick your eyes.

''Hmm, you know.. I actually like screamers. Though, preferably if they are screaming my name out of pleasure.''

Pleasure? Is this man deranged and delusional?

''I only scream for one man and that's my boyfriend!'' Your slap resonates the whole entirety of the restroom.

He forces out a chuckle, gripping your waist. ''I don't like how you run that mouth. Shouldn't whores like you only opens their mouth to take a man's dick?''

Your vision diverts to the door steps away from where you stand, frustration taking over you when it appears to be locked. Attempts of fighting against the muscled arms remain futile. You yelp when the man tries to rip your pants apart, failing due to the stubborn belt that you borrowed from Donghyuck.

''Fucking..'' The man transfers you to the wall, pinning you there with a tight grip on your hair. He tsks, annoyed at your constant kicks and flails. Once again, he tugs on your belt, successfully pulling it off of you when the fabric rips apart because of the amount of strength.

Right before he manages to force his hand inside your pants, his movements come to a halt but not yours, his momentum disturbed abruptly by the sudden opening of the door.

''How the fuck..?'' As far as he can remember, he certainly locked that door. ''Hey kid! Go take a piss somewhere else. Can't you see I'm busy with my girlfriend here?''

You get to see who he is talking to you, tears finally escape your eye sockets. Whimpering, your act of resistance continues, now desperate. A smirk stretches the intruder's lips yet the slyness underneath it doesn't reach his eyes.

''Are you sure? Your 'girlfriend' doesn't look like she's enjoying it though?''

The man sucks the top of his teeth. ''Just get the fuck out, will you? You know nothing about bdsm, as expected from a fucking child.'' He waves irritably.

''Ah come on, she's clearly against what you're doing. Why don't we do what you want instead? My ass feels exactly like a pussy. You'll be moaning and chanting my name like a fucking mantra, like you're fucking a woman. You would be addicted to my hole, cumming and filling me to the brim before you know it.'' The intruder quirks a brow, wetting his lips.

''The fuck are you on? I'm not gay, you disgusting shit.'' He spits on the other.

''Now, that's not nice. You see, we shouldn't be homophobic. Who are we to care and have a say about who wanna fuck who? And disgusting? Heh.'' Donghyuck tongues his cheek. ''Who's the one about to rape someone right in front of their boyfriend?''

''Uh?''

''That's my girlfriend, you dumbfuck.''

It all happens in a blink of an eye. One second, they're throwing harsh comments back and forth– next second, Donghyuck is already holding the man's face in his hands, bringing it closer to the lower part of his body. Blood drips on the floor as the man suffers from dizziness, courtesy of Donghyuck smashing his nose with his knees. You stand behind the closed door the second you are free from the shackles of that man.

Your boyfriend didn't stop there. Gripping the man's hair just like what he did to you, he bangs it to the nearest wall continuously and with utmost force. Crimson liquid decorates the beige paint but Donghyuck didn't care. He throws the man on the floor, finally sealing a blunt force trauma. He hovers over the man who dared to touch you.

Donghyuck's eyes glints in a way you couldn't interpret. Snatching his belt where it dangles from the countertop, he tilts his head. ''Ah, this one is quite expensive.'' Tapping the man's bloodied cheeks a few times, Donghyuck hums approvingly in seeing him awake, and proceeds to feel the belt on his skin.

''Do you know who I am, fucker? My government's name is Lee Donghyuck. But gangs and inmates call me 'Cross'. Ask me why.'' The man grunts when his face meets Donghyuck's palm.

''W-why..?''

Donghyuck smiles. The belt circles around the man's neck loosely, the other end enters the metal hole but it doesn't get buckled completely.

''You see, Youngjin, I'm actually a devoted follower of God. I believe in Him. So I make those that had wronged me pray to His cross before I take it upon myself to repeal the life that the Lord Jesus Christ had lent them should they be undeserving of second chances.'' Donghyuck holds the end and stands up, resulting in the belt to tighten itself on the man, choking him. He steps on the area where his head and collarbone meet. How your boyfriend knew the man's name, you don't know.

Crouching, the weight and the pain of Donghyuck's heels digging on Youngji's throat doubles. ''You might be wondering,'' Youngji isn't but he's not at the advantage to tell Donghyuck that. ''Why do gangs and inmates know me? What is my correlation with them? Surprise, motherfucker! I'm an ex-convict! Jailed for a year at South Korea's most notorious prison, got caught smuggling drugs. It should've been five years but money makes the world go round and connections greases the axle. Would've gotten much longer years if they knew the number of people I've slaughtered, possibly a life imprisonment– thank God, they didn't, right?''

Youngji gasps for air, and Donghyuck chuckles at him.

''Uh.. does it hurt?'' Youngji struggles to form an answer, fingers clawing to get the belt off. ''Oh how insensitive of me, why did I even ask you that question? Pardon me, I tend to forget someone's handicap often. My mama once warned me to be careful around people, I don't doubt she'll be scolding me in heaven if she happens to know my slip ups. May she rest in peace.'' He pats the gargling man's face.

Donghyuck then proceeds to drag Youngji by his shirt towards one of the cubicles, the red-skinned man takes this as an opportunity to fill his lungs with oxygen once again as he quickly crawls out of Donghyuck's clutch when the man isn't looking. Unfortunately, this only earns him another torment as Donghyuck tugs his figure forcefully by the belt acting as his leash.

''Now, don't walk out on me.'' Donghyuck grasps him, tightening his knuckles. ''I mentioned that I'm a believer of God, didn't I? Being a follower and believing in Him comes with the responsibility of spreading His words and wisdom. Of course, it isn't a responsibility but you get what I mean. Say.. Are you religious, Youngji-ssi?''

Whatever his answer is, there'll surely be dangerous outcomes. But Youngji doesn't have a choice. If he cooperates, maybe then the haywire in front of him will spare his life.

''No? Ah, that's fine. I just want to let you know that not having an official position in the Catholic realm doesn't mean my faith in Him isn't as strong as those that have one. Prison life requires us to go on mandatory praying every 6pm, it strengthened my faith in Him and He became my anchor during those dark times. I may not be a priest but allow me to reintroduce you, my brother, to Our Lord Jesus Christ.'' His hand stretches for the bidet. He grips the sides of Youngji's jaw to force it open.

''Lord God, our heavenly Father, we thank you for your great goodness, in calling us to know you and to put our trust in you. Increase this knowledge and strengthen our faith. Give your Holy Spirit to this person, that he may be born again and made an heir of everlasting salvation; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.'' Donghyuck closes his eyes and does the sign of the cross. ''Amen.''

Youngji helplessly gags as the seemingly endless clear liquid penetrates his mouth harshly and uninterruptedly, clogging his lungs and his stomach bloating until he can almost feel how it will explode any time soon. Youngji tries to fight it off yet fails because of the weight sitting on his chest. He thrashes, he chokes, he swings his arms. There's pain and aches everywhere until there isn't.

Eyes wide open and water spilling out of his mouth. Donghyuck only stops pressing on the bidet's button when Youngji lays on the floor, unmoving.

Wordlessly, hand rests on your back, leading you out of the bathroom. On your way out, Donghyuck sends a short signal to Yang Jungwon, a member of his gang. And the man, together with Zhong Chenle, makes their way towards where you were previously. Arms clasps secured around Donghyuck's waist, you both zoom away from the bar and arrive at your shared penthouse in no time.

As soon as the comforting ambiance of your bedroom engulfs you, you head to take a bath and wash off any remains of that man on your skin. It didn't take long. Soon, you stand before the mirror, observing the little gashes that stung as soap makes contact with them during the shower while you dry your hair.

Finishing this time, Donghyuck comes up behind you, a towel covering the lower part of his body. You look at him through the reflection, watching his movements. And then your eyes meet his. There lies an undeniable sharp gaze.

He strides towards you and tugs you to a hug, burying his head at your neck and inhaling your scent. Small kisses spread on the vast area where your neck and jaw connect, traveling down to your shoulders before going back where they previously were.

''You let him touch you.'' Donghyuck whispers.

The towel stops rubbing on your strands, confused sound emitting from you.

''You let him touch you,'' he repeats, ''Because I wasn't there to tend to your needs. Tell me, are you getting tired of me that you resort to letting some random fucking man to touch you in places that I am the only one allowed to? Is the greediness inside you?''

It's not. Never did you let that man touch you inappropriately. Never did you willingly enter his arms. Donghyuck witnessed the way you fought against that man, for goodness' sake. Why would he think you'll succumb to anyone other than him?

It should've irked you but it didn't. The voices in your head say all of those words are a result of such love that he has for you, a result of fear losing you. Something tells you that he's afraid that you'll slip out of his arms and fall out of love, that he just can't afford to lose the woman he loves, and you choose to listen.

Donghyuck loves and treasures you that he's gone bat shit paranoid and crazy.

''I didn't let him touch me. It was non-consent.''

''You should've pulled away.'' He's right.

''I did, but he followed me there.''

''You should've called me.'' Donghyuck's right again.

''My phone was in my bag.''

''You should've left the second he sat beside you.'' For the third time, he's right again. Your replies aren't mere responses but excuses as to why you didn't do those things to avoid Youngji.

Guilt starts to eat you up. ''I was too deep in my thoughts to notice him. Look– I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, Hyuck. I should've stood up when I saw him. I shouldn't have gone to that restroom. I shouldn't have sat where he could sit beside me. I shouldn't have looked in his way.''

''He shouldn't have been born.''

''..yes. I hate him, Hyuck. Please help me erase his traces, I don't want anything of him. I only want you.. please.''

Donghyuck smiles, so enchantingly that you fall in love once again. The sudden change of his behavior makes you shiver. Nonetheless, you didn't question it. This is your boyfriend you're talking about, what kind of lover will you be if you dare to speak ill or question his actions?

Wordlessly, he turns you around and plants a deep kiss on your lips, wrapping his arm on your waist while the other hand cups the back of your neck. His tongue explores every part and area that he can reach, licking and savoring your taste on his buds.

The way he sucks your lower lip and mixes your saliva with his through pushing his pink muscle inside your mouth is so addicting that you don't need any drugs no more to get high. Donghyuck's calloused hands spin you around. You face your own reflection again, there you watch as the hand makes its way to the area that soaks for Donghyuck.

He licks the line of your ear and orders, ''Watch.''

Jaws slacking open, a gasp escapes past your lips as Donghyuck wastes no time inserting two fingers in your hole, uncaring if there's sting or pain inflicted on you. Patience is a prize and Donghyuck is no winner. Moans starts to spill out of you when he plunges his digits continuously, merciless as he wiggles it in search of your spongey spot.

''Ah ah ah! Fuck– God, Hyuck–!''

His chest rumbles in chuckles. ''We don't use His name in vain, my darling.''

Two becomes three, and three turns into four. You tremble in Donghyuck's hold, eyes rolling back at the pads of fingers accurately jabbing your spot without a stop, giving you not even a second to breathe.

Donghyuck tsks disapprovingly, squeezing your throat that lies on his grip. ''I said, watch.''

Albeit having a hard time due to the overwhelming pleasure coming from the mind-numbing pace of Donghyuck's fingers, your eyes flicker, forcing themselves to look down where your boyfriend assaults your pussy. The slick is visible, his palms glistening everytime it is hit by the light emitting from the lampshade at the side of your bed.

It is so fucking obscene– the visual, the sounds, and fuck, the motherfucking drool trickling down your body. It is all too much. Words wouldn't be able to suffice how the scissoring movements inside your soaping wet pussy sends an electrifying feeling down on every fiber of your body.

''Oh, shit! Shit shit– it's so good, fuck! I'm gonna come– ah, I'm gonna come–''

Kissing your jaw, Donghyuck watches you fall apart in his hands. Legs folding, eyes rolling hard to the back of your head, hand gripping his wrist, and mouth wide open to a scream as your walls clenches down on his fingers.

Donghyuck presses his lips at the side of your head. ''That's right. There we go. That's a good girl.'' He pulls out his fingers, sucking on them all the while keeping his eyes where you sit on the floor, tired and spent.

Donghyuck feasts on your cum a little more, scooping the substance and licking it before doing it again until there's none left. He wipes his saliva on his towel, nudging your legs and body to an on fours position. With a single tug, the towel falls off his body as if on cue. Then he walks off to grab something, right hand busy stroking his cock up and down.

When he comes back, a non-pleasant cloud of smoke follows him. Donghyuck kneels behind you, smirking as you present yourself to him, stark naked. He didn't have to order you, you've done it yourself.

Spitting on his palm, Donghyuck tugs his length a few times more, bringing the tip to the valley of your pussy, rubbing it so he could slick the crown of his dick. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, his lungs greets the cancerous chemicals like an old friend, welcoming.

One smooth slide (and maybe some desperate whines from you) is all it takes for Donghyuck to be fully wrapped of your velvety walls, twitching and ready to fuck you to oblivion. And so fuck you to oblivion he did, without preparation nor build up of pace.

''Oooh! Oh shit! Please fuck me– so good, so good, Hyuck! Fuck me, please–''

''Ah.. fuck.'' Donghyuck closes his eyes, throwing his head back, taking another inhale of the cigar. His hips resume to snap, skin-slapping sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Donghyuck contributes another sound by delivering a hit on your ass cheek.

He leans forward, placing his lips right at your ear, free hand settling on your throat as he grumbles. ''You like that, huh? You like the feeling of my cock going in and out of your fucking hole? Fuck, this pussy is so good I might consider quitting doing anything else and just fuck you every damn time of the day. Would you like that, darling? My dick will be inside of you whatever part of the day it is– morning, afternoon, evening. I will fucking fill you up to the brim that pregnancy would be a fucking fool not to show up. Your stomach will bloat because of how much cum you have in this tight little fucking pussy. Tell me, darling, do you like that?''

The pathetic whines and desperate hands searching for anything to grab is more than enough as an answer for Donghyuck. Pulling away from your back to chest position, Donghyuck props one foot to the floor, angling his hips. His laughter resonates in the room as you thrash.

''Yes! Yes yes yes– oh my God! It's so good, fuuuck! Yes, so good! Ooh, why is it so good? I-I'm going crazy, shit!''

He smacks your ass again, a smile dawning on his face as he enjoys the way you nonsensically ramble, it fuels the pride inside him. Donghyuck taps the cigar on your back, the ashes with heat yet to dwindle, falling to your skin. It should've hurt but instead, it heightens the pleasure. Your arms give up.

You face the side in order to be able to breathe, legs feeling jelly. It would also give out if not for Donghyuck's grip on your waist. Shutting your eyes tightly, your tongue spills out the same set of words to signal your nearing release.

Taking one last drag, Donghyuck puts out the nicotine stick's flame with a deep press on the floor. If it burns the carpet in any way, who the fuck cares? As long as it doesn't start a damn fire, Donghyuck can buy a dozen more carpets to replace this one.

''Say it, darling. You know what I want to hear.''

''Oh..! Ah ah ah! I-I'm yours. I'm only– fuck– I'm only yours, Hyuck. Shit, I'm gonna come– I'm all yours!''

Grabbing you by a grip on your hair, his hand transfers to your throat and tightens it enough to cause you thrusting back to his cock desperately. The pleasure all together is so fucking mind-boggling, you can't think of anything else other than the monstrous cock thrusting inside you so vigorously. Sucking on your neck, Donghyuck's palm travels down.

His thumb circling around your swollen clit with pressure is what finally triggers your climax. And a few clenches from your pussy, Donghyuck follows right after, his cum spilling out of your hole just like what he promised earlier. He carefully pulls out, watching the way your pussy momentarily catches his tip as if not wanting to let go just yet. Donghyuck looks away before his dick gets fucking hard again.

Scooping you in his arms, Donghyuck lays you on the soft mattress, gently so as to not stir you awake or interrupt you from traveling to dreamland. He's never one to get tired easily but you are. Brushing the strands away from your face, he places a kiss on your forehead before quietly whispering that he'll be preparing a bath for you.

Despite having your eyes closed, you heard it. Maybe, just maybe. Donghyuck is yours just as you are his.

Share your thoughts?

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eirianerisdar · 7 months ago

Note

For the director's commentary thing: I would love a director's commentary for Icarus on what went on in Red Bull HQ after Daniel came back, specifically when he went on the sim for the first time and it all went so horribly wrong- what happened that we didn't see in the story afterwards, how did Simon and the rest of the team cope? And how did Max react when he came back, did Daniel or Christian tell him what had happened?

Hahaha this is asking more for a Director's outtake rather than commentary, but I don't mind.

For the unaware, Icarus is a platonic maxiel wingfic where Daniel is pressured into trimming his wings for speed in McLaren, and has a long, slow fall before anyone notices. Much Maxiel angst and hurt/comfort and fluff.

Have an outtake from Max's POV that would have slotted directly after chapter 28 of Icarus:

=====

It's late when Max reaches Christian's country estate at last. He guns his engine and takes the imposing driveway up to the mansion at twice the proper speed limit, manicured trees blurring past on either side.

He's probably ruining the cobblestones. He doesn't give a fuck.

He should've insisted they delay Daniel's sim session until his flight landed. He should've-

Max steps back from the door, his hand smarting. He hadn't planned on banging at the door like that. He'd planned on ringing the doorbell. But every fibre of him is screaming for his flock; his wings feel like they are on fire.

One of the house staff opens the door. "Mr Verstappen-"

Max shoulders his way past. He's probably being rude but he doesn't care.

A moment, where he stands in the cavernous, marbled entryway, with sweep of the grand staircase up to the second floor and heavy oak doors leading in every direction.

Daniel. Where's-

"Max," a voice calls softly. "You're here."

Geri. Max snaps towards her. "Where's-"

"They're in the garden," Geri says, tilting her head towards the back of the house. "I think Daniel's alseep." She doesn't seem to mind the dirt Max is tracking into her house. But maybe she has people for that.

Max moves through the house like a dream. Entryway, living area, kitchen; through a set of french glass doors and into the back garden. The garden itself is dim, but there is a bonfire in the fire pit casting the grass in ruddy reds and yellows. Silhouetted in the flickering light are two winged figures - one with golden eagle wings crouching to tend to the fire, the other bundled in a blanket on a lawn chair, bandaged macaw wings painted sanguine by the light of the fire.

Daniel.

Christian stands as Max rapidly approaches. "Shh," he says quietly, holding a finger to his lips. "He's sleeping."

Max's ignores him. He drops to his knees next to Daniel's lawn chair, reaches out with a shaking hand to brush Daniel's curls out of his face.

Daniel looks paler than when Max saw him last a week ago. The firelight makes the shadows under Daniel's eyes look bruised.

Daniel shifts in his sleep, leans into Max's touch. Even in sleep there is pain on his face.

Max twists to look over his shoulder at Christian.

"Explain," he says accusingly. He needs to understand.

Christian had promised he wouldn't force Daniel's healing wings into the sim before they were ready. Christian had promised that the team would treat Daniel with the care and respect he deserved after what that other team had done to him. After he'd almost lost his wings.

"He reopened his wounds in a couple of places," Christian says. His eyes are fixed on Daniel's bandaged wings. "But the hospital said he'd be okay. They've stitched him up."

"What the fuck does that mean," Max hisses. "How did it even happen?"

Christian puts up his hands. "Simon tells me he pushed himself," he says. "Went through the break without stopping, and he wanted to get back in the sim so we could perfect the setup for Brazil-"

"Fuck off," Max hisses. "Don't - don't fucking tell me he was bleeding into the sim and nobody noticed."

Christian looks at him. There is grief and guilt in Christian's eyes, but over it all, bitter, seething fury.

"Max," he says. "None of us noticed for a whole fucking year."

All the air is punched out of Max's chest.

It's true. Max hadn't noticed his own flock slowly fading to nothing as Daniel hid his trimmed wings from the world. Max hadn't noticed Daniel entering a wing crisis that fateful week before Monza, either.

Daniel shivers under Max's palm. His breath comes short against Max's knuckles.

Max takes a slow, shuddering breath, takes up Daniel's hands in his own to warm them. They feel like ice in the cold night air, so Max sets a hip on edge of the lawn chair and pulls Daniel into his arms. He wraps his trimmed wing as far as he can around Daniel's shoulders and drops his chin into Daniel's hair.

Daniel relaxes. His breath evens out.

Max inhales, breathes in the warm woodsmoke of Daniel's hair. "I'm taking him home."

Christian frowns. "Don't be ridiculous," he says, and he is Max's boss again, sharp-tongued, effortlessly efficient. "It's late. Geri and I'll put you up."

Max gathers Daniel closer. "I'm taking him home," he says. "Back to my apartment in Milton Keynes. We'll fly back to Monaco in the morning."

Max's apartment in Milton Keynes; the spare room that has slowly morphed into Daniel's, with Enchante merch in the closets and preening brushes in the living room, a place that smells of flock.

Christian rolls his eyes. "Max, don't be-"

"Daniel," Max whispers, pressing his forehead to Daniel's temple. "Daniel, it's time to wake up."

Daniel stirs. He blinks up at Max, brown eyes turned muddy with painkillers.

"Oh," Daniel slurs. He scrabbles at the sleeve of Max's jacket. "Maxy."

"Yeah," Max says. His heart is expanding and shattering at the same time. "It's me. I'm taking you back to my place."

Daniel blinks rapidly as his bandaged wings shift behind him. His face blanches with memory and shame. "I'm sor-"

"No," Max says. "You can apologise later. Let's get out of here."

Christian stares between them. "You're fucking serious," he says disbelievingly. "Both of you."

Max doesn't bother looking at Christian. He pulls Daniel's arm over his shoulders and gets to his feet, dragging Daniel up with him. They make their slow, swaying way back through the house, Daniel's head lolling on Max's shoulder and his breath gusting over Max's chin.

Christian is talking rapidly with Geri now, but Max doesn't care. He brushes aside Geri's well-meaning hands and hoists Daniel down the front steps and into the passenger seat of his car.

"You know what? Fine," Christian is saying from the front door. "I can't stop you two being idiots. Fucking goodnight, then."

"Christian!" Geri admonishes. "Goodnight, Daniel, Max."

Daniel acquiesces for Geri to pat his cheek, and Max shuts the door as soon as Geri steps back. He moves past Christian as he circles the car to get to the driver's seat. Christian doesn't say anything, which is good. Max doesn't want to talk to him.

They pass the stupid marble fountain and pull out of the driveway proper, on past the artificially manicured trees and into the Oxfordshire night.

The motorway is nearly empty this time of night. Max takes up a steady pace towards Milton Keynes.

Daniel wraps his blanket more tightly around himself. Max reaches over wordlessly, threads his fingers through Daniel's.

Daniel sighs as Max's thumb moves over his. His breath evens out slowly, slows into sleep.

Max doesn't let go of Daniel's hand the entire way back.

======

For the uninitiated, you can read more of Icarus here!

Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!

(This particular ask ended up being an outtake, but director's commentary is more in the vein of explaining choices in wording or scenes, or explaining narrative choices)

#replies #f1 #maxiel #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #f1 wingfic #f1 wing au #my post #writing #fanfic #icarus #f1 fanfic

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simping-on-the-daily · 2 months ago

Text

you look good tonight (strangled by your tie to me)

Summary: Bill’s off celebrating the Endless Party with their friends, instructing you to teach the senior citizen some new moves. Reader desperately tries to assure themselves they’re mentally well.

Part 2 to this!! And this one won the poll, so here ya go!!

Warnings: Gore, Reader’s heart gets abused again, forced pet regression/mind control, toxic relationships, mentions of bullying, the inherent weirdness of asking a mind-controlled dogboy to kiss you, Reader's morally ambigious/on a destructive power trip

Notes: Title is from HalaCG’s Nightmare Worldwide, Reader has an ambiguous birth defect/condition, though I tend to imagine it as polycoria or something similar to Down Syndrome, Reader slanders BookTok, references to The Yellow Wallpaper, Bill's all pronoun swag continues, Reader's mentioned to have hair as a minor

As a young adult, The Yellow Wallpaper used to fascinate you as a kid. A tale of medical misogyny at its worst, how the woman’s postpartum depression morphed into something sinister because of her husband’s twisted ‘care.’ You once promised yourself that you were nothing like the woman, that you were stronger than her. You were smarter and better than her, you’d escape the yellow wallpaper with your sanity intact.

Of course, you’d soon learn that knowing from her example does not make you better than the woman. You were not superior to Icarus because you learned from his mistakes, you could never understand the hubris of a mad scientist because you weren’t a scientist. Meeting Ford and catching a few moments of intellectual lucidity from Old Man McGucket were sciency enough for you (quantum mechanics were so not your style). Accepting that you were human and the woman was human made you feel better about yourself.

Now? You weren’t really sure that you were human, not anymore. And you're not sure if you're the woman now, because she lost herself to the delusions of isolation and thought she was the figure in the wallpaper. But there was a man in front of you, crawling on all fours, just like the shadow, and you don't think you could ever become him. You were better then him.

Ford stared up at you, awestruck, as he always had. Did he see you as another Muse, another polygon to worship and put posters all over the basement, to dedicate his work in your name? Though, it probably wasn’t all directed at you, and you hated the way you wanted to grab Ford by the face and let his nose touch yours and not let go.

Because right beside you was Bill motherfucking Cipher, floating all smug with his cane and if you weren’t focused on Ford you’d take that giant stick you’d shove it in his eye before praying to whatever God was still alive that Bill had an ass you could shove the stake up of. And her stupid face was smug too, expression in the closest thing you think she could get to a lazy grin.

“So, snookums, you know what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck.” You were supposed to listen to them?

“Haha, need a recap? I’m a-okay with that!” Bill’s eye turned upwards in giddy glee. “Previously on Keeping Up With The Ciphers-” “Are you fucking kidding me-?”

“The best friend forever, Bill, promised his Henchmaniacs he’d go out and join them on an all out tour of Oregon! Tickets sold out, eat your heart out, Tay-tay!” With a sickening lurch and a weak scream littered with swearing, your heart was ripped out of your socket and Bill took a nibble. You curled in on yourself, hiding your attempt at a bird flip as you stared up at Bill with seething contempt. You hated how that was their new recurring gag.

“While we’ll be having fun and increasing our ALL-SEEING EYES on the Pines family,” Your heart lurched, resuming your prayers for their safety and happiness. Soos and Wendy were good kids, and the kids couldn’t take the grief if something happened to them. “Sugarbun and Sixer will be having some quality master pet time!”

The way your heart soared knowing who was the pet and who had the control could not be water-boarded out of you.

“You’ll be teaching this old dog new tricks, give his bones a peaceful workout! Say, being on his knees is letting them rest way more than always running away from the Quxezquan?” Bill floated over to Ford, rubbing his hand through his hair. You can confirm Ford purred at that one.

“You know dog-shit about human anatomy.”

“But I know dog-lots about sweet Sixer here, and that’s the important part! Give me some more time and I’ll know LOTS about you as well! The heart’s where the soul is, and we’ve been getting real intimate!” Her fingers began to rip your organ in half, and you resisted the urge to scream. Dipper had a whole rap recording of his voice cracks, you didn’t need a more fucked up version of that.

“I’ll leave this here, if you wanna play a few games with Fordsy!” With an unceremonious squelch, your heart fell to the ground. “Well, I’ll be off! Byeeeeeeee, sweeties!” With that, Bill vanished in a flash of golden, Ford turning his eyes from her to you.

“........Hi?” Not your best.

Ford embraced the ground more than he already had, forehead touching the floor. So, he thought everything was your best. You refused to address how euphoric that made you feel.

“Let’s just……run through the basics, I think?” You didn’t really want to cope with a Bill who came back and learnt you didn’t do his instructions. Everytime they came back from the Henchmaniacs, she was always jumping for joy or ready to rip either you or Ford’s face off. Ford seemed to enjoy it but Bill said he liked to respect your boundaries, said that they’d give you time. Bullshit.

Ford nodded, hearts in his eyes as he looked up to you, getting up and ‘standing’ at perfect, doggy attention. Fuck, you were always more of a cat person, what were you supposed to do now? Fuck, you needed your phone.

You stuttered a bit, brain racking through the list of easy tricks. Ford’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, but the look of sheer love in his eyes didn’t subside.

“L-Lie down.” That seemed like the easiest one.

Like a lightbulb turned on, Ford’s face brightened, before flopping on his right side. You distinctly remember it as the way human Ford, pre-Weirdmaggedon Ford would occasionally go to bed, one the few occasions he did and didn’t pose like a dead man.

It felt a bit off to you, though. “Upright.” Dogs layed like that, right?

With no hesitance, Ford adjusted his position, lying on his stomach, hands stretched out towards you on the floor. Yeah, that looked more accurate. “Roll over.” You continued, motivated by Ford’s face and your lack of failure. Ford continued to impress, with a quick roll you think you’d seen in action movies, hands and legs up as his stomach faced the roof, decorated by Bill’s visage, surrounded by a wheel of household items, what you’re pretty sure was an alpaca, and stuff you immediately recognised from the Pines Family. After all, you knew only one man who wore that crescent oyster phoenix pearl fish thing.

“Play dead.” Ford’s limbs were out strewn before going slack, tilting so that he leaned more to the left.

“Headstand?”

Ford’s head titled in confusion. God, that was stupid. What kind of dogs could do a headstand?

“Fuck!” You growled under your breath, bitter that your streak was ruined. Your anger was interrupted by Ford’s nose gently nuzzling your knee, and you felt it all dissipate. Times like these reminded you that Bill wasn’t going to be death of you. Rather, it was his damned dog and his adorable little glasses and cute innocent smile.

You pat his head gently, and Ford only responded with a ‘yip!’, which he could apparently do. As if your heart wasn’t growing three times its size every day Fordsy was in your vicinity.

“Kiss me.”

What.

“I-” You froze, arms outstretched as your hands shook. “No, that’s weird, you’re in the headspace of an animal, that’s so fucked- but like, people do way worse then that, right? People wayyyy younger then me writing all their stories about rich millionaires and getting their brothers to fuck you instead, ha, yeah, I’m way better then those TikTokers and their books-”

His lips touched yours. Ford was fucking kissing you. This was wrong. He was being mind controlled, there was probably a pendulum swinging in his brain to keep him like this, you weren’t Bill, you were better than him, you were better then the high-schoolers and kids who picked on you and threw rocks at you and locked you in the closet and made you play seven minutes in heaven with a guy who threatened to cut your hair-

And yet you leaned in. You grabbed him by the waist and hugged him, as though you were going to lift him up. You couldn’t- Ford was tall and you weren’t in your prime, but knowing that Ford wouldn’t fight you if you tried felt like a massive boost to your confidence. He’d do anything for you, he’d protect you from the kids who called you a freak and never invited you to their birthdays. And he’d do it with a smile, because he loved you and Bill-

Bill. You opened your eyes (when did you close them?) and looked up to the roof, terror etched in your pupils.

Bill’s visage, surrounded by that stupid wheel.

You pushed Ford off, overcome by panic. He wasn’t out with the Henchmaniacs, he was probably laughing at you and saying that you were a horrible person who deserved to be alone but you weren’t. You were a good person. Ford wouldn’t have hung out with you if you were a bad person. Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t hang out with you if you were a bad person. Stan wouldn’t let you be near the kids or Ford if you were a bad person. Wendy and Soos wouldn’t let you hang out near the kids or the shack if you were a bad person.

But you had just kissed Ford when he was a dog. You liked it when he was a dog. You enjoyed the power you had over him. You wanted your name on his collar and for your symbol to be on his leash, not just that triangle chain that connected the two.

You fell to the ground, unable to stand. You stomped on your heart and something burst, blood splattering all over your face and arm. You didn’t scream, though, or curl in on yourself. The pain of one organ and its constant abuse was nothing compared to the rollercoaster your mind was.

I’m a good person. I’m better than the people who hurt me. I won’t hurt people. My revenge is being better than those who hurt me.

Your misery was interrupted by Ford, curling up next to you with a worried look and a yip. You stroked his hair, the pattern soothing the tension in your body ever so slightly, but unlike with the headstand, he couldn’t fix this or soothe your worries. Not when he had caused them, not when he was the root. Ford and his stupid little cute face and the way he didn’t look so stressed and the way those soft gloves were probably protecting him from the pain of his knuckles on the ground.

No, not him. Never Ford. You couldn’t blame him, heaven knows he did that enough himself. Bill, it had to be Bill. Because it couldn’t be you. You couldn’t be a monster, you couldn’t be continuing a cycle of pain just because the opportunity was in your lap.

The woman in The Yellow Wallpaper had no-one, not really. All she had was her husband’s shitty reassurances that she’d be ‘cured’ if she stayed in the nursery and a woman she made up. You weren’t the woman, because the two people who haunted you were very much real. The psychical manifestations of a drug and the dealer.

You weren’t sure which was worse.

#GOD I LOVE READERS WHO AREN'T 100% GOOD AND WEIRD IN A DISTURBING WAY #yandere gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #bill cipher x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #billford x reader #simper scribbles

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vasito-de-leche · 7 months ago

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a little prompt, if you don’t mind

what about mercenary!reader and symbiote!Pavia? it’s just Pavia’s ult/wolves kinda remind me of Venom and i think it would be fun to imagine him being something like Venom

;R1999 PAVIA - "under your skin"

Symbiote!Pavia x Mercenary!Reader 2.5k words body horror What you and Pavia have is nothing more than transactional—you need him to make a living, and he needs you alive to ensure a comfortable life. It's taken some time to get used to these changes, to share everything you have with him for the sake of convenience: your home, your food, your job. And most importantly, your body. Perfect symbiosis, or dysfunctional parasitism? You've yet to figure out where you two stand. One thing is clear, though; he's the best at getting under your skin.

i just want you to know that this prompt speaks to MY SOUL bc i love venom and pavia so fucking much. you dont understand how hard i think about the concept of a symbiotic relationship between symbiote and host. so I went extremely self-indulgent with this one <3

as usual, this is written to be read as platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat!

Bang!

A clean kill.

The only reason you watch as the body drops to the ground is out of respect for the work you do, nothing else. You've done this a dozen times, and you will do it a dozen more -- the gun in your hand has become a reliable friend rather than a tool for mindless murder, its familiar weight a fleeting comfort in the tedious routine. A shame it came from the most annoying person you know.

Screaming ensues as everyone surrounding your target runs around in panic. You remain, eyes locked on the target. When someone moves their body, attempting to cradle that lifeless corpse, you see it; a bullet right between their eyebrows, the perfect shot.

You feel a tug, but it comes from within your chest cavity. Something squirms inside you, pulling you back, and you understand this as your cue to slide back into the shadows. It begins with a single step backwards, then another, until you feel the texture under your shoes shift -- what was once solid ground is now a dark, velvety mass, floating upwards and fading away like smoke. It licks at your ankles, providing an initially cold sensation that permeates your clothes, and then it continues upwards to your calves, your knees, your thighs. The gun slowly dissolves into slime, taking the shape of what you assume to be a hand, horrible and sticky fingers intertwined with yours, pulling you downwards.

By then, you feel that burning sensation, and then you're dragged into the abyss.

"That was a lousy shot."

A voice echoes in your mind, it is not your own. It feels like a thousand ants marching alongside your cranium. Or rather, what you assume to be your cranium -- in this current state, you can't separate yourself from the embrace of the void. The voice might as well reverberate all around you.

You scoff and insist. No, it was a perfect shot.

"Perfect my ass. You were off by 2 centimeters," the biting remark makes you clench your jaw. You don't reply. The voice does the same, it remains still, only a semblance of white noise, but you understand its silence as a smug victory.

Suddenly, vertigo takes hold of you. It only happens for a split second, always unannounced, but you know better than to brace yourself. Doing so, as you've learned, would only make you nauseous, dizzy and weak -- instead, you let go and the shadows gently coax you back into the light before dissipating in the air.

You find yourself in front of your apartment door, an odd and anticlimactic way of ending a productive day. What, no snack run today?

"Not feeling it today. So you either open the door on your own, or I'll do it myself. Get a move on."

Some of these threats tend to hold more water than others, but more often than not, they're just empty words and loud, useless barking. And so you've learned to ignore them all -- however, you feel a faint prodding inside your back pocket, like a tentacle in search of something. Right, your keys. The roll of your eyes and the slowness in your movements are the only means of rebellion you have against this annoying entity in your head, it continues to breathe down your neck, impatient as ever, until the door opens and you step into your safe haven.

"Finally! Guess there's some activity in that brain dead head of yours."

You're forced to make a bee-line for the kitchen and the fridge, puppeteered by a force much more stronger, much more ancient than every insignificant emotion you've ever felt: the damn parasite inside of you is hungry.

As you both scan the leftovers -- your leech of a roommate seeing through your eyes, smelling through your nose -- the voice returns, this time in a more playful tone, less grating than before.

"Scusi, what's with the silent treatment today?" You bite the inside of your cheek and it laughs at you. "Don't tell me, wolf got your tongue? Are you mad that I saw right through your poor, shitty technique?"

A suffocating presence crawls inside you, starting from somewhere below your rib cage and making its way upwards through your esophagus and trachea, shifting until you feel the prodding of cold, slimy fingers in your mouth. They are tasteless and you can still breathe, your body not even bothering to perceive this as an obstruction or an intruding force that must be coughed and spat out. They are careless in their movements, pinching the tip of your tongue and pushing against your clenched teeth in an attempt to get you to open up.

And the worst part is that this is nothing but a mocking gesture, you've come to understand this over the years. To you, this is no different than someone poking at your sides, childishly asking for your attention. You obediently open, enough for a single digit to slip out, one you recognize as the middle finger. It presses down on your lower lip.

And then you bite down, hard.

It dissipates instantly, it is absorbed back into your body through every inch of skin it makes contact with. There is a new sound in the back of your mind, one you weren't quite expecting. Your parasite laughs, amused, no trace of that usual condescending tone.

"Good, you still know how to use that petty mouth of yours. I don't have to worry about teaching you how to chew down your food."

This makes you stand up straight, turning your head and glaring at an empty space, where you assume this presence would manifest if it chose to stop taking residence in your body, "I'm not eating while you're still in there. If you want dinner, then get out."

There is a beat, a momentary silence. You don't give the parasite any time to bargain, "I'm serious. Use your own damn mouth if you're so hungry. I already have to do everything on my own, I'm not going to start spoon feeding you, too!"

The reply comes out faster than you expected.

"Fine."

For a moment, your vision doubles and your body feels like it's being painlessly torn apart. For a moment, you have two sets of eyes, two sets of arms, two sets of legs and two minds. You are both yourself and him, simultaneously. It is like someone is cutting your soul in half, shoving each part into two different bodies.

It is over in the blink of an eye, and there is a presence looming behind you, made from the same material that took you here, the same material that often travels in your veins and every other crevice, nook and cranny available between your organs and bones. The lights of your apartment flicker, and you take notice of his shadow cast over you.

His predatory gaze burns holes in the back of your head, and in the stillness of it all, you hear his steps, the sound his leather pants and the shifting of his shirt fabric as he steps closer -- until you feel his chest against your back. An arm slides into view, closing the door to the fridge and resting there, preventing you from escaping. It is decorated with all the useless, silver jewelry he's taken from your targets, a hand covered with tattoos you've often traced with your very own fingers in the past.

Oddly enough, you do not feel like prey. Not anymore. Your instinct tells you that you should, but truth be told, you could not care less. Especially when you feel his chin dig into the top of your head, his weight pressing lazily on you.

"…But in exchange, I'm cooking tonight. You got 10 seconds to get outta here." He shifts, and his cheek nuzzles into you as he yawns, like he's ready to move on from this conversation.

"Huh?" You slide from under him, finally looking at the parasite concealing as a man -- one you recognize as the bane of your existence, Pavia. "Uh, like hell I'm trusting you with the food! I've seen the stuff you put on your pizza."

"Like you're one to talk! You add too much salt to everything you make. If you wanted to ruin your liver, you should've just let me eat it from day one. 5 seconds left before I throw you out. C'mon."

"Do you even know how to cook? Any actual recipes that don't require winging everything?"

"Does pasta with a side of 'mind your fucking business or I'll make us eat rat poison' sound good to you?"

"I swear if you put anything funny in the food--…"

"Time's up. Out!" Pavia picks you up, manhandles you even, and tosses you out into the living room. As soon as you land on the couch, the door to the kitchen closes and you're left all alone.

It's easy to forget that you have no fucking clue as to who or what Pavia even is.

No last name, no records, no personal information at all. You've touched him before—he looks and feels just like any other person. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn he bleeds the same way you do. But there are times when that outer layer of normalcy is peeled back just enough to remind you what you're dealing with. Sometimes, the outline of his form darkens, as if the light around him couldn't affect him in any way, and his eyes go dark, so very dark.

You've seen him in this form, unhinging his jaw to uncomfortable degrees and revealing endless sets of saw-like fangs and teeth. His nails have grown longer, thicker and sharper than expected in many occasions. You would find those on the ground, like a wild dog who has never known, let alone needed, a trimmer.

And most importantly, you've allowed him entry to every pore of your body, every piece of cartilage, every muscle, every vein.

That's when you get a small glimpse into the eldritch monstrosity living under your roof—sometimes, he's a thick fog. Sometimes, he's an oozing pile of slime. Sometimes, he's the big, bad wolf. Sometimes, you can't even understand what you're looking at when he manifests in front of you. Regardless, you're certain of something.

Pavia is darkness, eternal and haunting as the night.

He is also a huge, ungrateful, bastard.

"Hey! Where'd you leave the gelato!? This freezer's a damn mess!" His voice is heard, muffled. It doesn't carry the same cadence and weight as it does when you hear it from within your mind. He sounds more annoying, in fact.

It's a strange experience, to have him coexist right beside you as if he weren't some sort of parasite, one hair away from eating your organs. But at least like this, he cannot read your mind nor attempt to puppet your body like a moron in broad daylight. You don't answer, fully aware that he's only trying to piss you off and lure you into another argument -- as if he'd ever lose sight of his precious dessert, anyway. Instead, you busy yourself with the usual routine; finishing what is left of your work, contact your employers and whatnot.

Soon enough, the kitchen door opens and Pavia slides into the room with a single plate of warm food. You look at him, eyes wide in indignation. Oh, he wouldn't …

"Huh? What, I thought you didn't trust me to cook, so I just made something for myself. There's some leftovers from your poor excuse of a lasagna, though." The smarmy expression plastered all over his face as he licks the sauce off his spoon is unbearable, and you rush to the kitchen either to find the biggest knife to drive into his chest or to resign yourself and eat those leftovers.

And then you see it, another plate resting by the counter. Full of delicious looking pasta.

Son of a bitch.

"Bring me some of that orange juice you bought yesterday while you're in there, yeah?" Pavia never gives you time to settle down, demanding your attention and your frustration time and time again, unable to form a single coherent thought nor opinion about him.

He's annoying, that's all you've been able to figure out so far.

He's annoying, and he's made a mess out of your kitchen to cook this meal for both of you. He's annoying, and stingy when it comes to sharing his favorite snacks and desserts, but he never attempts to steal your own. He's annoying, and he offers you a power beyond your wildest dreams, to get rid of inhibition and embrace the abilities of an eldritch beast. He's annoying, and he hogs all the fucking blankets at night, planting his cold feet against your legs or back to add insult to injury.

He's annoying, and he's calling out to you once more, telling you to hurry or else you'll miss "that one stupid show" you like, that he'll switch channels if you don't sit down with him to eat. You sigh. The nerve, the hypocrisy. You know the things he likes to watch -- he has no right to criticize your taste like this.

"I'm coming, calm down! Christ …"

You notice that he never lingers nor invades any of your usual places, always picking the same spots for himself, and this is ironic in every way possible given his fickle nature. There's no doubt that as soon as you two retire for the night, Pavia will make a show out of sliding back into your body, to rest with the warmth of your blood and the soothing rhythm of your heart. And you will tell him to fuck off and sleep on the couch, reminding him of that one time he got a little too comfortable, clutching your heart in his claws, causing you to believe you were having a heart attack. Then, morning will arrive, and you will find Pavia either sprawled out or gone, but never truly leaving you alone. You will feel him, that inky slime, both cold and warm in your veins. You will go to work, and you will return home to start all over again. This is the routine, one you stopped questioning a long time ago.

This parasite who gets under your skin, both figuratively and literally, is annoying. He's annoying when he teases you, forcing you to admit that he can cook a mean pasta. He's annoying when he laughs, loud and boisterous, at those stupid moments he often criticizes in all of your favorite shows. He's annoying when he gets clingy, using you as a pillow because he can't be bothered to reach out for one of the many other pillows scattered around.

He's so very annoying when he looks at you with a curious gleam in his eyes, obviously noticing the way you've chosen to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Time stands still as you simply look at each other, as you lose yourself in those bright, sharp eyes.

You stick out your tongue at him, and Pavia blows a raspberry at you. Sure, he might be plenty annoying on his own, but together you're both insufferable and unstoppable.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 pavia #reverse 1999 x reader #pavia #dreamy sigh. i love overly complex relationships that can be interpreted in 20 different ways #yeah you hate each other. yeah you love each other. yeah you cant stand each other. yeah you cant literally live without each other #yeah hes your best friend. yeah hes the bane of your existence. and yeah youre his only lifeline. yeah youre the only one he trusts #love having relationships with The Eldritch tm #if some of this sounds suggestive its bc i love romantizicing body possession and body sharing and symbiotes theyre my favorite thing ever

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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 1 year ago

Text

The Grumbo Apocalypse / Monster Horror AU

Massive thank you and credit to @angeart for helping me out with this AU of mine, coming up with new ideas, listening to my insane rambles, writing cool stuff, and making some brilliant concept art!

(and helping with this post too!)

CW/TW for this au: apocalyptic scenario, discussions of death / existential dread / being replaced / horror themes, body horror, issues of identity and self-image

SO the 'grumbo apocalypse / monster horror' AU is sort of what it says on the tin? Mumbo is just a regular guy with a coding job who wakes up one day to a nice bright apocalypse outside.

The sky turns white, the sun turns black, shadows become death traps, wormhole open up in the middle of the road... you get the picture. At first, everything is reported on by local news stations- it all seems rather mundane despite the horror of it all. People are hunted down by various monsters in the streets, and you can hear all about it on the ten 'o clock news.

Still, eventually, humanity seems to flicker out. No more electricity. No more news. Mumbo goes to his living room window and Something looks back at him. So he does what any self-respecting person would do, and cowers under the windowsill waiting to die.

The monster that breaks into his house through the glass is something the media called an 'outsider'. Its form shifts, changing fluidly with horrible wet sounds. It has scales and feathers which move across its pale skin like insects. Two- five- three- two eyes. A mouth, filled with rows of teeth and black bile, opens up from nothing on its face. It stares at Mumbo. Mumbo thinks he's going to die.

Then the monster speaks to him. It says 'hello' in a disjointed, stuttering voice. Mumbo doesn't die. The monster tries to look more human. It's name is Grian, apparently.

Grian is part of a species which existed long before the apocalypse. A monster which lived on the outskirts of towns and cities, usually just keeping to themselves. Like pests, they would sometimes wander into isolated houses, and find themselves nesting there.

Outsiders- we will call them that for now- can change form easily. Naturally. They also mimic sounds. Voices. Screams of the dead. And they are designed to blend in. To slip into a home, kill a human, take their voice, become them. If they feel threatened enough.

The apocalypse made them angrier, more feral. Hunting, eating, killing humans just seemed natural, despite their generally passive past.

Mumbo survives because he freezes. Naturally, he's the type to panic and stop moving entirely. He freezes and hides and waits. Outsiders are built to chase a moving target. They don't tend to attack an unmoving figure.

Grian settles, and Mumbo becomes his new friend. Like that, because Mumbo is still reeling from not being slashed to death or eaten, Grian simply stays. Or, Mumbo stays.

Grian is very protective of Mumbo. They leave the city, Grian using his teeth and claws to kill any threats. Into the forest, they find Grian's nest- where his flock is (though Mumbo can never quite be sure if they are there, hidden in the shadows) and they survive.

It is nice, for a while.

Grian only sometimes talks in an original voice. He can speak his own language (chirps, whistles, gurgles, clicks) just fine, but he is only made to mimic human language. The most basic words- though he's learning. He can use the voices of the dead (and has a funny habit of replicating their dying screams).

(Mumbo tries not to hear familiar screams in Grian's voice)

(If he has nightmares about it, and panics when he wakes up wrapped in Grian's arms, the arms of a killing machine, he doesn't mention it)

But, also, the apocalypse, and living in the forest, and cuddling with a being designed to kill and replace you, is scary. Mumbo wants to go home. He wants to stay. The sky is white. His mind can't quite take it.

And when another monster tries to attack him, he runs. Grian kills the monster fast. He sees Mumbo running. Instinct triggers. He pounces.

Mumbo tries to forgive Grian for the scratches. (They aren't scratches. Mumbo calls them scratches. They run deep). He still flinches for the next week whenever Grian gets close. They both know it couldn't have been helped- their instincts are incompatible. Human and monster. Made enemies by the end of the world.

Grian tries to make himself more human. Two eyes, two arms, two legs, no tail, less feathers, smoother skin, a normal face, a normal voice. It hurts to hold that form. It hurts to look at his true form, knowing it scares Mumbo. It's worth the pain to pretend they are a normal pair.

Neither of them talk. Neither of them try. Soon, one of them will break, and the other will come crumbling down after... but that's a story for another day.

(psst. ask me questions about this AU I get insane about it always) (also scar, cub, pearl, joe hills and cleo have very minor roles you should ask about them too)

#ben chats shit on the internet #grumbo apocalypse monster au #grumbo #grian #mumbo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #long post #hermitblr #au post #??? i dont know

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cozymoko · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I just found your blog, and I love your stuff♡♡ Could I ask for domestic headcanons for the mukami family? As in how would living with them (separately) be as their partner. Thank you!

DOMESTIC HCS W/ MUKAMI BROTHERS

Note: Hello~! I've been seeing you all over my feed lol, I'm glad you like it. I'm making them married if that's okay. Enjoy! (ﾟ▽＾*)☆

Pairing: Domestic! Mukami brothers x gn! reader

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): none

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

RUKI MUKAMI

It's almost like you're living with a prince. So perfect, not skipping a beat when it's time to assist you, (on a good day). One would think he's a mind reader with the way he reads you. It's as though you are a book brimming with such unimaginable intricacy, one he has studied word for word until it's engraved in the depths of his memory.

If he wanted to he could take care of all the household chores within a sheer blink of an eye. But what's the fun in that? Ruki cares for you, however, he will not do your chores for you.

As adults, the two of you have several things to tend to throughout the day but there's no excuse for falling behind on house maintenance. So unless you are on the brink of collapsing or he grows weary of watching you struggle, it's best not to anticipate too much from him, Geez, what a clean freak!

"You look rather tired this evening. Are you overworking yourself? Do not lie to me, this will only make it harder for not just you but me as well."

KOU MUKAMI

Your living situation is a secret between the two of you. Now being away from that secluded manor, he'd hate it if his new home was bombarded by paparazzi and deranged fans.

Kou isn't the greatest at cooking but he'll try his best. After living under the same roof as Ruki and Yuma, the skills he can provide are just as worthless as you'd think: Very. They made everything for him. And don't get me started on his cleaning...

The man's a sucker for surprises, no matter how big or small. It could be as simple as completing his portion of the chores or preparing a warm meal for him to come home to. It makes his heart race. Fret not because in this world the things you bestow upon others are bound to return to you.

"Hehe, you made all this for me? Wah~, I really am the luckiest man alive. Don't worry honey, I'll be sure to return the favor very soon~!"

YUMA MUKAMI

Upon the moment you moved in, Yuma had grown more protective of you. If you hadn't known any better, you'd think he's your shadow. A very large, imposing one, to say the least. Yuma fears that you'll injure yourself whenever you leave his sight, hence why he tends to hover over you quite often. At times like these, he reminds you of a mother with his seemingly endless nagging.

Yuma would be the perfect housewife — "house husband" for better wording. He can cook, clean, and is pleasant to be around the more you get to know him.

Life with Yuma is a whirlpool of emotions within itself as you never knew what was to come of you. Gardening alongside the man you cherished, lazing around 'til your heart's content, spending several late nights baking for the pleasure of it. You've done it all, it seems. But you know this is solely the beginning.

"Oi, sow, don't cut the fruit like that damn it. Are you tryna' hurt yourself or somethin'? Pfft, I wouldn't put it past ya'."

AZUSA MUKAMI

You may as well call him your "number one supporter" because ultimately that's all he's good at. Azusa does his best to aid you in your day-to-day tasks even if he's not up to par. Yet somehow his efforts were helpful in their own ways.

He is a great listener if you need him to be. After a long day of work, stressed and exhausted. what could be more tempting than a listening ear? Scream at the top of your lungs about all the things you dislike; kick and scream about your boss's irksome behavior. (Kick him, we all know he'd like it.)

Azusa is up your ass every waking moment. Whether you're cooking or even showering, he will be there. With cold hands lingering along the line of your waist, bodies pressed flush against one another. It will never be enough to soothe his shivering heart, which longed for you when you aren't near. It's unfortunate, truly.

"I missed you...so much...I hate when you leave me to go to work....just...stay, can't you? I promise...It'll be a lot of....fun..."

#—🍁#x reader #diaboys #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami #mukami brothers #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers scenarios #diabolik lovers imagines

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sicklyseraphnsuch · 1 year ago

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(1) (2)

"Is that a dragon? That's a dragon! It's a dragon! You're a dragon!"

Hiccup and Toothless share a look. When facing a thousand pound, flying, fire-breathing lizard, people tend to back away at best, and at worst, they start swinging - axes, clubs, fists. In general, there's a lot of panic, sometimes screaming, involved. Hiccup was prepared for that, not whatever Jack's doing.

Clearly, if their guest was healthier - more capable of moving without risk of death, he would be running around like a madman. But, thankfully for Hiccup's sanity, Jack can barely stand, staying on his feet through sheer stubborn will.

But he laughs freely and loudly as a smile lights up his whole face. Hiccup could almost - almost - forget the corpse-like tinge of Jack's skin, the sunken shadows on his cheeks, or the bruise-like marks beneath his eyes.

"Uh yeah... So... Meet Toothless... He's a dragon, alright." Hiccup frowns. "What? Have you never seen a dragon before?"

"Of course not!" Jack replies, not taking his eyes off Toothless. "Dragons don't exist where I'm from. We only have stories, you know, myths and legends." He turns to Hiccup. "You're the weird one here."

"Me?"

"Yeah! You see dragons everyday and you're just so boring about it."

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh not like that! I was just - I don't know. I'm over here losing my mind and you're just standing there, looking at me funny."

Hiccup tries to imagine a life where dragons had not been part of his existence since day one. He nearly gets a headache for his efforts. A life - a world without dragons? What? There's no way. That's just impossible.

"Aaaand now you just look constipated."

Hiccup rolls his eyes. "So what do you have over in the New World?"

"Horses? Bears? Sheep? Beavers?"

"What's a beaver?"

"It's kinda like a giant rat - big front teeth and a wide flat tail. They build their houses on rivers. You can make good money from their fur."

"Huh."

"Right? Totally not as cool as dragons."

"You know, most people would be afraid of dragons. You're over here acting like Snoggletog came early."

"What's Snoggletog?"

"What's - Okay, this is too much. You're breaking my brain over here."

Jack cackles, which quickly turns into hacking coughs that shake his whole body.

Hiccup frowns. "I think that's enough excitement for one day."

"What? No! We just got started! I'm literally four steps from the front door!" Jack wheezes out, gesturing at the hut sitting right at his back.

It's only been two days since Jack woke up and introduced himself. This was not nearly enough time for a full recovery, according to Gothi. But after a couple hours of sitting around, watching water boil, the guy was literally climbing up the walls. Once, Hiccup had to catch him because Jack almost fell out the window. All things considered, that was probably an escape attempt... Or maybe Jack had really intense cabin fever. If Hiccup had to spend two whole days with only Gothi for company, he would also throw himself out the window.

Since Jack was driving himself crazy (which drove Gothi crazy), Hiccup took pity on him (on them both), and offered to show him around Berk. Of course, that meant Jack would get to see all the dragons roaming around. There was a good chance that Jack would keel over at the sight of so many dragons in one place. So, not taking any risks, Hiccup figured that a quiet, one on one introduction would help their guest get... used to the way they do things around here.

Given the way Jack got so excited from meeting Toothless, Hiccup can pat himself on the back for a job well done. He can also smack himself for not thinking about the whole "Jack can barely move" problem. How's the guy supposed to see Berk if he can't even walk ten steps without collapsing? Didn't think about that, did ya Hiccup?

Hiccup and Toothless share another look. If dragons could shrug, Toothless would have done so at that exact moment. He also would have said something like, "Hey, this guy's your problem." Lazy lizard.

Sighing, Hiccup runs a hand through his hair, thinking over his options. Maybe if he...

"If we strap you to the saddle, we can show you Berk from the sky."

Jack's eyes nearly pop out of his skull. "The sky? What? You're gonna let me ride Toothless? We're gonna fly?!"

Hearing him say so, Hiccup begins to question his idea. The face that Toothless makes doesn't help. But Jack is vibrating with excitement now, his grin curling from ear to ear. Hiccup doesn't have the heart to deny him.

"Yeaaa... But just a short flight... If you die on my watch, Gothi can and will curse me."

"Fair. But I'm not gonna die." Jack rolls his eyes.

Hiccup snorts. "Well, I suppose there's really only one way to find out."

It takes some work. Hiccup asked Gothi for some spare leather, which he quickly wove into a rudimentary belt. Then he handed Jack some of his extra flight gear (kept on hand in case something breaks midair), and walked him through adjusting it for his size. Jack was vaguely annoyed, almost sulking, when he had to tighten the straps several notches. Hiccup made things worse by grinning at the size difference. After a lifetime of being the village toothpick, it's sooo nice to be bigger than someone for once.

Finally, it was the moment of truth. Hiccup was fairly confident that Toothless would allow Jack a seat on his back. But as they say, "it's never wise to count your fish before coming to shore".

With Jack watching closely, Hiccup steps forward, holding out his hand. "Just let him come to you."

Taking his cue, Toothless bumps his snout against Hiccup's palm, exactly the way he did all those years ago.

"See?" Hiccup glances at Jack as he gently pets Toothless. "As long as you're careful and slow..."

Jack meets his gaze and nods slowly. He copies Hiccup, lifting a hand up and letting it hang in the air. Unlike when Hiccup first tried this, Jack doesn't look away. Toothless stares right back. For what feels like forever, neither make a move and Hiccup starts to think that they'll never move again. Then Toothless decides to break their little staring contest, but he doesn't press his snout to Jack's hand. No, this weirdo of a lizard decides to lick Jack's palm. Their equally weird guest outright cackles with glee. Toothless appears very pleased with himself.

Hiccup shakes his head, clapping his hands. "Alright, alright. We're all good buddies now, great! Let's not waste anymore daylight."

Jack whoops and scrambles over to the saddle. After some awkward wiggling and squirming, it becomes pretty clear that Jack has never sat on a saddle in his whole life. Toothless keeps trying to look behind him, wondering what this strange new human was doing on his back.

"Need some help?" Hiccup asks, stifling a smile.

"Nah! I'm good!" Jack says cheerfully, with his booted feet planted on the saddle, and nowhere near the stirrups.

Hiccup crosses his arms. "I'm sorry to say that you've got it all wrong."

Jack takes in his crouched position. "What? No! Can't be!"

There's even odds that this guy is just messing with him. But Hiccup finds himself laughing along. It was just a bit of harmless fun.

"Right well, your feet are supposed to go here. Let me-" Hiccup reaches over to take hold of Jack's ankle.

He didn't mean anything by it. He was just going to place Jack's foot into the stirrup. But as soon as Hiccup's fingers brush against Jack's ankle, the guy flinches hard and launches himself off the saddle. Toothless lets out a loud squawk, echoed by Hiccup, as they watch Jack tumble down - head first - towards the ground.

Luckily, Toothless is not very tall so falling off his back won't cause permanent damage. But it would still hurt. From the hard thump followed by a breathless groan, it sure sounds like it hurts.

"Jack!" Hiccup hurries over.

"I'm fine! I'm fine! Just a little..." Jack waves a hand. "You... I wasn't expecting the..."

The poor guy looks shaken, breathing heavily and trembling all over. All that from one tiny touch? Hiccup frowns.

"Sorry, I didn't - I was - I should have warned you."

"No, no, no! You're good!" Jack folds his brow, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. "It really wasn't a big deal."

"Coulda fooled me..." Hiccup murmurs under his breath. "Can you - Are you hurt?"

"Just my dignity, but who needs that, right?" Jack pushes himself up and dusts himself off.

Hiccup snorts. "I wouldn't know. I never had that myself."

Jack grins, already looking a lot steadier. Sure, he's breathing a little funny, but he's less twitchy - less ready to run. Before Hiccup could say anything more, Jack's already back by Toothless, swinging himself onto the saddle, no more messing around. But the stirrups still give him trouble and after a few failed tries, he lets out a frustrated grunt and kicks off his boots.

"There! Much better!"

Hiccup blinks. "Huh? Did those not fit?"

"Nope, those fit fine. I just don't like boots."

"Do you not wear boots in the New World?"

"Can we just go already? The sun's gonna set!"

"We're not going anywhere until you put the boots back on. It's even colder up in the air. You could get frostbite!"

Jack snorts. "Please! I'm not even cold right now! And we're only gonna be up there for what? Five minutes? Ten? I'm not gonna lose my toes after ten minutes of windchill!"

Hiccup clenches his jaw before breathing out a heavy sigh. He's spent a lifetime with hardheaded people. He knows a lost argument when he sees one. "Fine, fine. What's a few toes in the grand scheme of things?"

"That's the spirit!"

Hiccup gives Toothless a tired look. Toothless has the audacity to laugh at him. Thanks, bud. Real supportive. Grabbing hold of the saddle, Hiccup hops on as easy as one, two, three. He settles himself behind Jack, and again, the contact causes Jack to flinch. The reaction is more muted this time, undoubtedly due to the guy's admirable restraint. Yet Hiccup can pick out the way Jack draws his shoulders up, his arms pressing tight against his torso, and his hands holding onto the harness with a white-knuckled grip. Every part of him is wound up tighter than a trebuchet about to fire.

"We good?" Hiccup asks.

"Yeah," Jack squeaks out.

Taking pity on the guy, Hiccup ignores the way Jack sounded like mouse just then. "Alright, let's get you strapped in."

Somehow, Jack tenses even more but he doesn't complain as Hiccup winds the belt around them both. Then Hiccup leans forward, pressing his front to Jack's back, as he grabs onto the harness. Close together like this, Hiccup could feel Jack's ribs stretch and shrink - faster and shorter with every breath.

"Everything ok-"

"Just. Fly."

Thor save Hiccup from stupidly stubborn guys. He wasn't kidding about Gothi cursing him.

"Alright. You heard the man, Toothless."

Letting out a warbling growl, the Night Fury stretches out his wings and with a click from Hiccup's prosthetic, they leap into the air.

Jack stops breathing entirely. He stops for a single, sticky second - long enough for Hiccup to start panicking. But then Toothless levels out, prompting Hiccup to adjust his tail, and just like that, they were flying.

And Jack... Jack laughs - a noisy, clumsy, heavy sound as if he needs his whole body to laugh. Hiccup has never heard anything more joyous. Toothless must share his opinion because the dragon lets out an echoing roar before barrel-rolling across the air. Jack's laughter transforms into a throaty shriek as he lets go of the harness, opening his arms wide like he's trying to embrace the sky itself.

Hiccup thanks every god he can name that he had the foresight to strap this guy onto the saddle. Jack would have slid right off from that stunt.

"Are you crazy?!" Hiccup yells, tugging hard on the harness. "Toothless, quit it! Jack, put your hands back down!"

Toothless gets the message because he straightens out neatly. Hiccup knows that the dragon is rolling his eyes. Just for that, he is sooo not getting fresh chicken tonight.

Jack breathes out a throaty chuckle before placing his hands right back on the harness. "Man, that was fun. You get to do that every day?"

It's hard to believe this was the same scared-stiff guy from earlier. From his position, Hiccup can't quite see Jack's face but he could see a world of difference in the looseness of Jack's limbs and the soft curve of his back. Somehow, Jack seems more at ease, more at peace in mid-air than he ever did on the ground.

"Yeah... I'm pretty sure Toothless would bite my head off if I didn't take him flying at least once a day. Twice if we have time."

"Wow..."

Toothless takes them up higher and further out into the ocean until the whole island could be seen. Then, as if greeting them personally, a strong Northern wind whistles by, parting the clouds and letting the sun shine a spotlight onto the busy, messy, crazy village below. From this height, Hiccup could see the sturdy perches placed by each home, the forever full feeding stations, and the comfy, customized stables. He could watch a cacophony of colored scales wing around the vikings as they went about their day - fishing, fighting, and even frolicking when they thought no one was looking.

"Oh," Jack whispers - soft and gentle and weightless with wonder.

Hiccup allows himself to smile proudly. No one could say that they had it easy these last few years, but they made it here somehow - a long way from where they started.

"Welcome to Berk."

#hijack #jack frost #hiccup haddock #how to train your dragon #rise of the guardians #frostcup #journey to the past

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its-chili · 1 year ago

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Mold

I read a strange book once in elementary school about a girl and her cat. Something about ghosts or shadows and a curse I don't particularly remember the name or nature of. I only got about halfway, as those sorts of things tended to freak me out, and I would have rather read I Spy or Ripley's Believe It or Not. But, for some reason or another, I have never been able to get the setting of that book out of my head. It took place in a house that wasn't hers- or at least a house she hadn't lived in for her conscious years. I remember how it was described as this massive organism whose cells and organelles consisted of hallways and bed bugs. How living in its bricked walls was to invoke the experience of being digested, and with every passing day, parts of you would congeal into the furnish. Your flesh would start to peel, needing another coating, while your bones would creak and cry out for oil. I remember the terror that the book instilled in me.

I don't know when I left or how I got there, but I wake to find myself in front of a house, simultaneously my own and someone else's.

There is an infinite expanse of blotchy gray-green in every direction, only varying in size but never shape. A skeleton of a picket fence, overgrown with weeds and vines, the only thing separating me from the great beast of brick and mortar. I turn my head to look behind me, expecting to see a road of some sort, but nothing. Nothing but Daisy, my old truck, and her faded mustard skin and bulging blue headlights. I don't remember driving. Where are my keys? I dig a hand into my pocket, rustling around only to pull out some cotton knots and… I want to leave, but Daisy smiles, encouraging me forward. I don't think she knows where to go, either. Or if she is even capable of leaving. Last time I checked, she was on empty, and her left back tire was about to burst like a rubbery piñata

I turn again. The house remains. Motionless. The exterior has been painted cream. Or white. Or something of the like that maybe once looked pristine and shiny and new but has long since lost its luster. I try to remember a time when it looked shiny and new. It has always looked this way. It has never looked this way.

Despite myself, my feet begin trudging forward, carrying me like an unwilling passenger forced upon a train headed for what could only be certain doom. I feel the strain of weeds tangles against my boots. It feels like ripping sinews.

The journey takes hours. I appear at the steps in minutes. Where did the railing go?

Flashes of my grandmother shoot through me. She smiles as she holds out a tray of apple juice and chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. Then she frowns as the tray hits the ground. She's staring at me. Her ankle doesn't look right.

There is supposed to be a railing.

I go to open the door- but there isn't a handle. Where did the knob go? Did someone steal it? Who in their right mind would steal a doorknob? Does it have that much value? Or was it the only shiny thing left, and whoever stole it figured that that was the only thing that could possibly give them anything worth the trouble. The urge to run suddenly spikes through my chest. I turn again. Daisy is gone. Everything is gone. It's just the infinite sea of blotchy gray-green.

I hear a creak behind me. The door is open.

I can't move. Everything in me screams. I want to laugh. I do laugh. I laugh so hard my sides hurt, and tears start to form in my eyes, and I have to bend over and hold onto the railing that isn't there to steady myself.

I bring a sleeve to my face to wipe away the tears and the blurred lens of my reality, and I almost relish in the salty sensation of the tiny droplets that manage to sneak their way onto my tongue. I relish the soft fabric of my sweater. I don't remember if I have washed this. Do I need to wash this? I smile as I bring my arm back down, only to find myself standing in the middle of my kitchen.

A table carved with indentions and scuff marks sits illuminated by a single golden orb. I can't see past the head of the table. I can picture my father's beaming smile, slightly shaded by a tangle of salt and pepper strands of scruff. I hear my mother's voice whisper a wordless prayer. It resonates with me. I sit at the end. A plate is in front of me, but I don't know what's on it. Mashed potatoes? Squashed Eggplant? Whatever goes into the cafeteria food I had to consume in college so I wouldn't starve? My fingers grip a knife I didn't realize I was holding. The mass does not make a squelching sound. It does not vibrate slightly like rotting jello. It does not stare up at me with one giant, congested, verdant eye whose veins pulsate to the rhythm of my racing heart… It does not roll back to gaze at the other end of the table. It does not focus on the figure at the other end of the table.

At one point in my life, I think in my junior year, my family and I had to temporarily move out of our house because we had discovered a patch of black mold behind my parents' bed. The cleaners knocked out the wall, prepared to place the plagued patches in the trash, and called it a day. The wall came down.

The bones and organs of my entire house were black.

During that time, my mom had been designing the interior for my uncle's townhome, and thankfully, he let us crash there until the mold was dealt with. My mom's immune system could be compared to a wet Kleenex, as almost every food category was in the danger zone, and she couldn't get nutrients and immune support from just salads and chicken broth alone. I spent that entire summer in that tiny house–having to drive back and forth 30 minutes from there to my job back home to back again to my friend's houses to my grandparents to back- The gas prices always seemed to rise every time I pressed on the pedal. We were given the all-clear at the beginning of August and promptly huddled back into the hovel we had carved in the shape of ourselves….

Two years later, my mom started coughing while we watched Sound of Music in her bed. She got sick…very sick. She was ill to a point where fish lips chewed on her eyes, and blue worms wiggled beneath her taut skin. I remember the crystal snake that curled around her arm and off the bed, feeding back into a plastic bag hanging ever halfway empty beside her. I remember the drip. Drip. Drip of it. I was a floor above them, but I could still hear it underneath my covers. I swear I could see the tube sometimes slithering beneath my bed.

And then, one spring, the drip just… stopped.

It was sunny outside. 73 degrees. No chance of rain.

We tore down my parents' room a few months later…and faced a black hole of spores as the wall came down.

My eyes focus once more, or at least as focused as they can get with the dim lighting. I stare at the "not mashed potatoes" before me. I want to look at the other end of the table. I need to look at the other end. But my body refuses; there's an anvil pressing in my throat, forcing down every syllable and scream and panicked breath, and my hands are clamming up like they've turned into a kid's bad science project. I feel the neurons firing; I can picture myself craning my neck as if my head didn't feel like a sloppily attached bowling ball. But nothing. I am utterly paralyzed.

The sound of wood scraping against wood echoes in my ears as the shadows shift just out of sight, dancing at the edges of my vision. The floor creaks. Closer. And Closer. Uncomprehendingly heavy and light all at once. And from the darkness, a fragment of a long, wiry appendage slowly begins to-

#lostcore #strangecore #surrealcore #weirdcore #eldritchcore #local cryptid #eldritch horror #cosmic horror #cryptidcore #cryptid #horror #horror story #horror fiction #eldritch fiction #hp lovecraft #mushroom #bone #flesh

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yoshipea762 · 5 months ago

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SIPHA the dusky dolphin rant ig

So, random shitpost that has some relation to google translated portal (P0RTUGUL) aside...

I want to talk about SIPHA for a moment, bring up what inspired me to make her in the first place, and other random OC stuff I guess. I'm in the mood to do so, and my sudden need to RP as Deva Gwain Saga in Discord is... Let's say it's not being attained atm due to not being able to find a partner.

Keep reading if you REALLY want to see the rant(Just mind the writing. I tend to make stuff sound confusing without even realizing it). If not, move on and pretend I didn't say anything.

Now then. For design, I'll admit that I was looking for dolphin OCs to reference from. Inspiration kind of just struck like a literal wrecking ball when I saw a wholphin called 502(One of Omiza-Zu's old OCs). I openly admit that I took... A good amount of inspiration from that, although I seem to have still made her stand out on her own. Somehow. I may have also doubled down on the Silver stuff, as her "hair" reminded me of him to some extent. The shoes she normally wears for example use the rims his boots have, just recolored to better suit her color palette. The air shoes design was clearly from Shadow, but we don't talk about that.

Why I made her a robot was obvious (bias), but making her a prototype badnik who had people die during her creation just so she could have a built-in laser wisp power? Honestly, the idea of something typically evil NOT being an enemy was always an interesting concept to me. Badniks are usually Eggman's go-to robot army, and even in my AU, that's the case. You'd want to get rid of them. So, if a Badnik approached you and didn't have the intent to kill you, would you be on edge? What if I made that a Black Arms monster, something typically dangerous as hell? They'd probably put you on edge, wondering if they're even on your side or not?

Unless... say, they're friendly before you realize they're a Badnik. But even then, you can do something interesting with that position too. Are they still trustworthy? Or are they just a mole pretending to be a defector?

For her personality and abilities? Yeah, I... may have went for the "foil to Sonic" route, even though she won't actually interact with him. She's pretty friendly once you get to know her, but suffers from trust issues due to circumstances from her past. She can't stand staying in place, so putting her in a locked room is enough to make her scream. And yes, she's bound to make a fool of herself. Pretty sure her TH page can explain better than I can right now, lol. I kind of just... Copied Sonic's capabilities, but made it so she's more like his Luigi equivalent stat-wise. She runs at the same speed as Knux, but her jump height is higher, and her homing attack is much faster. I don't know why I made her like this other than to make her fit the bill of being a speed-type. Laser wisp power? Did the same thing with my AU's Sonic, so... Eheheh... :p

I've gotta rework her backstory tho. Her current one just isn't good to me, tbh. Needs more depth and oomph.

One more thing? Going back to something I brought up earlier, I thiiiiink I tried contacting Omiza sometime before or after the first SIPHA drawing? I haven't had a response from my many attempts, so I'm just gonna assume they don't want to talk about 502 anymore. Don't you hate it when a character you gained interest in happens to have died long before you knew about them? Sure, making your own content for them would be nice, but I feel horrible whenever I even think about doing it, especially when it's someone else's OC.

Thanks for reading through this... rant/tangent that likely made no sense to you. Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna go back to existing in my totally legitimate lake.

#not art #dolphin girl #robot girl #original character #rant post #random thought

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uroborosymphony · 6 months ago

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The Quinn's back is resting against the street lamp. her feline eyes on the man standing in front of her. All dressed in black she is, her new attire as the Dark Quinn, almost invisible in the night, uncatchable. This man isn't just a supplier but her ticket to More, to Bigger. Ever since she got of out of Black Fang, to build an image on her own has been harder than one would think. Taiyang Tseng is the charismatic figure and leader everyone wanted to make business with, smelling the good deed it was to be affiliated to one of the biggest gang in the city : he would take care of the alliances, of the negociations. Quinn, meanwhile her role was more in the background, calculating Black Fang's next moves and tending to her members, by extension benefited of Taiyang's image. It all changed as the word spread like a forest fire : the Quinn losing her mind, the Quinn losing everything. To re build a smaller empire on her own requires patience, determination, to execute many operations by herself, to risk it all, to team up with the wrong people if she has to. Finally, it is working for her. Investing all her money in a new base, her army is close to 20 soldiers now - it does seem a long path is left to her goal of 100, but again, this is just the beginning. "That's good with me Darling, as long as you give me access to aaaaall of your supplies... See, I'm a very very hungry girl. I need twice as much as I ordered, for the same price of course. Will you be a good boy and give me the locaiton of the warehouse? We should go there together and have fun on a little shopping night mm?" This man, he sure isn't insensitive to the Quinn's charms and Oh Ara had no shame playing around that. The man's offer is to stay in the shadow while she will be on the front : it isn't a problem for her as long as she gets what she wants. All she needs is this one information : the location of all the firearms and explosives. A step is made towards the man with a cat smile on her lips. The exchange is cut short - zing, a knife errupts from the shadows, flying straight into the man's chest. A good aim. It doesn't take long for Quinn to put one and one together, knowing that one move more than anybody else. Her supplier is growning in pain, screaming and then pathetically falling the ground as he's already losing so much blood. "Oh you got to be kidding me-" The words are sighed, exasperated from her mouth, her eyes rolling as she just lost a very important deal.

"I can see you." She speaks out loud, jaded, with little to no surprise when Taiyang finally steps out. Her jaw is clenching, her viscera tightening at the sight of him. After weeks spending apart, after the storms of pain that washed through her.... How to describe the emotions building up inside of her? Anger - he just ruined everything. And satisfaction too, a twisted, unexplainable one. The Quinn is different. That thing, inside, the one she used to battle against, the one she tried to save her own mind from - it has completely taken over now. No breakdowns anymore, no screams, no tears, no more, she became It. All It ever wanted was to have Ara's mind for itself. In a way, Taiyang did It a favor by letting Ara rot on her own, he fed her to the demons inside. The satisfaction, that's where it comes from. The anger then turns into annoyance as Taiyang does nothing but to lecture her, joking about her date deal being dead and give her some very patronizing take on a situation she had under control. "How insulting of you." She starts, one eyebrow raised as her jaw doesn't seem to unclench. "After all these years to address me like I'm some sort of idiotic bitch who follows Someone Else's plan. The alliance was fake, I was planning on taking his weapons and kill him the minute he hands them to me. See, I don't partner up with boys anymore. All they do is promise me Wonders of a lifetime together and then stab me in the back." Of course the line is directed to him. Her hand pulls the glock hidden in her back in her belt, it is aimed towards the man down the floor as she shoots him once in the head without even looking at the body. Dead, he is now. He wasn't useful anymore with a dagger in his chest and aware of her plan. The gun she holds, it is then redirected to Taiyang - the eyes she lands on him, she has never landed before, they're empty. The Dark Quinn, she is a stranger. "Oh wait? Could it be ... you're worried about me?" The Quinn then asks, chuckling in a sinister way. " Hahahaa aw." Her features harden again. "I want my bombs back. Find a way. Or. I kill you." She cocks the gun.

#둘 𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 / the vengeress.#둘 𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 / arc 03 ; to defeat.#둘 𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 / interactions.#I'M LAUGHING HIS LINE WAS HILARIOUS BUT SHE AINT HERE TO LAUGH IM SORRY SHE MADDDDDD

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yanderegrizzsworld · 2 years ago

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Hiiii! Was wondering if you could do a romantic Yandere!Shadow scenario where the reader dares to strike back after an escape attempt. Shadow's response to this makes him temporarily underestimate his strength and hurts them in the process. Then the reader has no choice but to let him tend to their injury as they're being reprimanded. If you want to make adjustments, I'm totally down! I love surprises and twists! If you don't wish to write this, I understand. Keep being awesome and get plenty of sleep! X3

Yandere Shadow the Hedgehog: You've left Me no Choice (Romantic Scenario)

TW/CW: Blood, injuries & implied anxiety

A.N: Hello to you dear!

You count the ticks of the clock as you eye the door from the kitchen counter. You synchronized your breathing with each tick that you counted, your heart pounding harshly in your chest as if seeking to break through your ribcage. You've memorized at what time he'd show up but... What if it doesn't work? Having been a brief member of G.U.N, he'd explicitly detect you planning something, but like a child discarding an old toy, you toss that thought out of your skull for the moment. You take your gaze away from the door & stare out a small window momentarily watching the leaves sway lightly, the sound of the ticks swirling in your mind as you slugged towards a cabinet & take out a glass cup.

Walling towards the sink tardily, you halt your movement staring at the sink before you lift the glass & turn the faucet of the sink. Inspecting the clear liquid fill the cup, you rub your eyes as you utter a sigh, the ticks of the clock starting to irritate you the more you listen to it, closing the tab harshly. The moment your ears catch the sound of footsteps getting closer to the front door your eyes widen.

This is it, it's now or never.

You continue to tally the ticks as you examine the door opening in which a black hedgehog with red stripes walks in, eyes scanning the area before landing on you. "Hey, how have you been?" He kicks the door close, its garish thud echoing slightly. You hesitate to answer keeping your gaze on him, thinking on how to get him further away. "I've... been alright, I guess" each word felt leaden & bereft of any ardency. As you observed the hedgehog turn to the door as if to lock it your breath gets caught in your throat, panic beginning to descend within you, clambering on what to do to hinder his motion at the moment.

Crash!

You stand by the kitchen counter, glancing at the now shattered glass for an instant before gawking at the ultimate life form who has now rushed in front of you. "Why did you drop it!? Are you okay?! Did you cut yourself?" He inspected your hands for any injuries in which you move your palm away before backing away slightly, he kneels towards whatever remains of the glass as if inspecting to see any blood spilled. You cautiously move around him, eyes flickering between him & the door as you strive to keep your breathing steady. "I'll go fetch the... uh..." You keep your gaze on the hedgehog as he snatches a nearby cloth & swipes away the shards to absorb the water spilled. You gradually inch closer to the entry, sentiments of Shadow hindering your plan plague your skull as you seek to keep yourself lull & tranquil.

You feel the frigid doorknob on your palm, tingling raising up your arm. "Hey" His voice that of a parent ready to scold a child, "What are you doing so close to the door?" The moment he finished the phrase you bolt it out the door as his screams of ire reach your ears.

♡♡♡

"What did I do?! What did I do?! What did i do?!" You repeat to yourself like a chant as you avoid running into the trees in the darkness, the snapping of branches below you echoing in the quiet around you. The only source of light of the moon is hardly seen by the twisted branches & leaves clustered together by the trees that made them seem fused together. The distant sounds of steps ring in your ears but you dismiss it as a fox or a deer, anything than to imagine him behind you, searching for you. The thought of the hedgehog chasing you within the trees forces you to continue running as the adrenaline pumps through your veins rapidly. As you take a turn by a tree, a sudden force is felt by your feet before spreading to the rest of your body, the faint taste of dirt & tiny pebbles cause you to hurl in disgust, spitting rapidly while shakily attempting to get on your feet again.

"C'mon...c'mon!" You continuously look around you in a frenzy, not knowing whether the shaking is from the cold outside or the adrenaline still pumping in you.

You feel a sudden force run into you & you collapse to the dirt below, you feel whatever knocked you down on top of you as you shiver in fear knowing who it was. "When we get back you have a lot of-" you land a blow towards his nose, a groan emitting from his throat as he falls on his back. Just as you manage to lift yourself off the ground, Shadow snatches your wrist with a grip that'll surely leave a bruise. You pull against his hold in sheer panic, when you notice him getting up, you bolted into him crashing against a tree in the process. Shadow gasps & grunts in pain, letting go of your wrist & bringing his hands to the back of his head.

You make a run for it while he's distracted, trusting it'll give you enough time to make it to seek help. A blur materialized from the corner of you eye, the only glimpses you could get were some red when it ran by where the moon managed to shine through. Before you could take a guess on who or what it could be, pain shoots from your leg as you collapse against your ground violently. You attempt to hit him with your elbow, yet he catches it & forces it down to the dirt below, "Let go!" Any attempt to crawl away becomes futile when you feel his weight on top of you, hindering your movements.

"What is your problem?!" You feel his hand grip against the back of your head, you hiss in pain before being silenced by having your faced shoved into the dirt, the chalky taste invades your senses as you squirm & try to fight back the ultimate life form. You gasp when your head is liftef & inhale the fresh air quickly, fearing he'll shove your face down again. You manage to move a bit despite his essentially putting all his weight on you, the rocks & pebbles rubbing against you harshly like rubbing a cloth against skin.

"Quit moving!" Shadow takes hold of one of your arms, you slightly push yourself up with the other, striving to get him off of you. As he gets closer to snatch your other arm, you elbow him in the jaw, leading him to gasp & grunt in agony. Even as he falls to the side from your sudden attack, his grip on your arm never ceases, instead tightening. Your muscles refuse to cooperate in aiding you in lifting yourself up, of which the hedgehog takes note of as he pulls you towards him. You clash with more rocks, you feel something warm yet cold run slowly down your palm & the taste of iron enter your mouth, yet you pay it little attention, your mind more preoccupied with the abrupt pain flowing in your ankle.

Even with your heart beating painfully in your chest, your eyelids feel heavy, closing tardily with each slow blink. No! No! No! You gotta move else you'll get taken back by him! Yet you're too sore to move more than an inch. You barely catch Shadow lift himself with your blurring vision as he lifts you upper body up, feeling the same warm taste of iron drip down your chin.

"We're going to have a long talk about this" You hardly process what he said as you finally let you eyes to shut one last time.

♡♡♡

The silence between the two of you feels suffocating. Your occasional low hisses & silent grunts are all you manage to emit, preferring to look at anything besides Shadow tending to your wounds. He moved his hands carefully, gently putting pressure on your cuts with the same cloth he used earlier, removing it from time to time to check if the bleeding ceased altogether. The sound of ripping swirls in you mind like honey in tea, every attempt to look at him fills you with dread & every glimpse just makes you quickly look away, your throat feeling dry.

That blood dripping down your nose & invading your mouth distracts you for a while, the salty taste seeping down your throat. "Done with the arms" Despite not looking at him, his gaze on you makes you momentarily squirm, your hands feeling clammy as you clench your fists against the carpet floor. You turn your head towards the windows, the sight of leaves flowing gently from the breeze outside bring you brief comfort until you recall the events that transpired.

The texture of gloves on your cheek return you to reality, your face being turned forward making you look at the black hedgehog. "Stay still, this might hurt a bit" His voice was low & quiet, almost fearful of raising it. You promptly hiss the moment the cloth came in contact with your nose, "Sorry, did I press it too hard?" You loathed moments such as this, always leading to you having mixed feelings. You shake you head slowly, swallowing a grunt when he pressed again to stop the bleeding. "...Why did you do that?" His tone going from almost soft to rough nearly arose a cough from you, swallowing heavily.

You refuse to answer, opting to play as if you didn't hear him in the hopes he'd drop it. "I'm waiting" you allow a sigh to slip through your lips before meeting his gaze again, "I...I, um..." You can't find nor think of what to say, fearing any way of explaining would result in the ultimate life form getting angry & forbidding you from leaving. "Uh...I just wanted to be outside...I guess"

You internally pray that he drops it right there, Shadow hums in acknowledgement of what you said, switching the cloth to the other end when the side got too much blood in it. "Outside? You could've asked me, you know" He rests his gloved hand on your shoulder, slightly rubbing his thumb in circular motions as if in a attempt to comfort you. "I guess" You eye his hand on your shoulder for a bit before looking straight at him, "Then why did you run then?" Your hands clench from his question, feeling your finger twitch slightly against your palm.

"I..." You look down at your bandaged arms, small blood spots painted the bandages like paint on a canvas. "If you'd just ask, none of this wouldn't have happen" You inhale slowly when Shadow removes the cloth from your nose, observing Shadow stand up with the bloodied cloth. "Do you think I liked having you try to fight me?" Each word was spoken slowly, making the swallow in your throat taste almost bitter, "Think I liked having you fight me? Make me accidentally hurt you?" His eyes, filled with sorrow & guilt, stared at you as you refused to look up at him.

"You left me no choice" His voice, laced with guilt & disappointment, felt like a stab through the chest. You squirm lightly as Shados sighs slowly turning around, "I'll make you some dinner"

You watch Shadow head towards the kitchen before turning your head out the window. The salty taste still lingering in your mouth as you watch the moonlight get absorbed by passing clouds. Your body aches of which it'll be a constant reminder, for which will consume your dreams the next following days, of tonight.

#yandere #yandere scenario #romantic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere shadow the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader

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huneekrispee · 3 years ago

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Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #huneewrites #dsmp x reader #dream team x reader #dream x reader #dream x reader fluff #dream x reader angst #dreamwastaken angst #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dream x gn!reader #c!dream x reader #c!dreamsmp x reader

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etcrow · 3 years ago

Text

My monsters are real.

➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸

Genre: Angst

Characters: Male! Mc x Satan

Universe: Obey Me!

Warnings: physical and mental violence

➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸➹➷➸

Some people love to sleep, others don't. MC is one of them.

The last time he slept, nightmares overwhelmed him, horrible images made their way into his mind wrapped in Morpheus' sweet embrace. He would love to be able to sleep at least once without having horrible recurring nightmares, but they seem not to want to let him go.

Whatever he does, he wakes up in panic or horror and his screams of terror have woken the seven brothers several times during his stay in devildoom. He tries not to make them worry, sneaking out of his room and going to sleep in the most varied places. Several times they found him curled up sleeping on the sofa, in the library or even in the most remote corners of the house.

Asmo had even offered to give him a massage or prepare a relaxing bath, but the boy's nightmares had not decided to let him go. He had two large black circles around his eyes and barely stood or dozed off wherever he came across, and then stiffened and sat in terror.

MC had spent another sleepless night, you could see it from his tired look and the way he could barely keep his eyes open, curled up in the blanket. He had brought a flashlight with him to illuminate the library and, hidden under the desk, tried -in vain- to sleep. He would have loved to close his eyes and sink into a dreamless sleep.

Vibrations on the floor and an all-too-familiar shadow had led him to peek from a corner of the desk, noticing Satan's presence. The avatar of wrath was watching him in silence, albeit with a look between exasperation and worry. MC greeted him with a movement of his hand, and the demon sensed that he had forgotten his hearing aids again.

MC was silent by nature but often tended to forget about his hearing aids.

'Are you sleeping here again?' Satan asked him in sign language, and MC simply shrugged and moved his hand on the floor, as if inviting him to sit down. The demon had sat next to him, taking something from his pocket. 'I found them in your room. You shouldn't forget them around.'

He wasn't scolding him, but that boy had his head in the clouds and those devices were important for him, even if MC managed to lose them or forget them in the strangest places.

Satan had once found them inside one of his books.

MC had taken them and put them on, awkwardly scratching his head. "I forgot them agai, huh?" he murmured giggling, but immediately stunned as soon as he saw Satan's stern gaze.

"Why are you here again?"

MC had lowered his gaze, gesturing nervously with his hands. By now in the house they were used to finding him sleeping in the strangest places, but no one had ever understood why; MC had never said anything.

"You know, I can't sleep"

Satan had offered many times to read something for MC, to make him calm down and make him sleep, but every time he fell asleep, he woke up disoriented and frightened because of another nightmare. Also, this time he seemed to have woken up after yet another bad dream and judging by his expression, it must have been one of the worst ones.

Next to him was a book, one very familiar to the avatar of wrath: The treasure Island.

MC was never tired of reading it over and over again, and Satan could see his eyes sparkle every time he opened that book. Those few moments when he forgot his nightmares and found some peace.

This time, however, a book would not have been enough, and Satan wanted answers.

"Then explain to me why you can't sleep"

MC had looked at him for a second, then returned to nervously move his hands, sighing; he didn't know whether to speak or not. After a long sigh, he decided to speak, hoping not to worry the demon too much.

"I... I never talked about my father, did I?"

It was true. MC always spoke only of his mother and had never mentioned his father, leading the demon to the conclusion that he was probably an absent father or that he was no longer alive, and the boy preferred not to talk about him.

"My father died when I was four years old. We were walking near a frozen lake and I walked away to chase something, then I found myself in the middle of the ice and when it broke... I ended up in the water and my father did everything to get me out. He died to save me."

MC had told everything with a bowed look, without ever looking Satan in the face. The demon had listened to him in silence, noticing that the boy wanted to say something else, but that he was struggling to continue. He could see that his gaze had become saddened but also a veil of fear in his eyes.

"After what happened, my uncles offered to help my mother, but my uncle never forgave me for the death of my father, his brother. He always said it was my fault that dad left us and then..."

Silence had fallen into the room and MC, frightened, had looked up at Satan who had a strange expression on his face.

It was serious, but also cold as ice. He probably already knew what he was going to tell him. He had noticed several times that MC jumped frightened every time someone made sudden movements near him or if someone raised his voice and he was certainly not a fool not to understand what his uncle could have done to him.

"He beat you, didn't he?"

MC nodded and in Satan the blood began to boil in his veins.

The boy had told him how he beat him when his mother was not there and how she blamed him for the death of his father. He had even called him a "useless creature" because of his partial deafness and had broken his hearing aids several times, forcing him to take the blame or give it to some schoolmate who bullied him for his situation.

His nightmares had sprung from that man. He was always there, staring at him at the foot of the bed or in front of the lake yelling at him as he drowned. Or he saw his father drowning repeatedly and his uncle standing still watching the scene and telling him it was only his fault that his father had died.

He also relived the screams and everything he had done to him during those years. Only that was no longer his uncle. He was a huge monster that had very long and sharp claws that scratched him until he bled and even if he screamed in pain no one could hear him. Every night he dreamed of that monster and every night he woke up terrified of him.

MC had sighed, sensing the tension that had been created in the air; he knew that Satan was furious.

"Satan, I have confided in you, and you must promise me that you will do nothing"

The avatar of wrath had closed his eyes in surprise. Do nothing? How could he even ask him? He would have liked so much to materialize in front of that man and tear his heart with his bare hands. He was already anticipating the scene, when...

“Satan”

MC's voice had brought him back to reality. He was worried and seemed to regret telling him that story. Partly because he didn't want him to worry and partly because he was afraid of his uncle and what he might do to his mother or aunt or even if he told his mother what Satan could do to him after learning the news or even worse... he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to incite Satan to hurt his uncle just because he couldn't stand up to him and defend himself.

"I'm able to defend myself, don't worry. Now I'm grown up and he can't hurt me anymore."

MC had placed a hand on Satan's shoulder, noticing how tense he was.

"They're just nightmares, they'll pass."

Satan did not understand this. Was that human stupid or just too good to understand the gravity of the situation? How could he even let that man abuse him? How had he managed not to take revenge all this time? If he had asked him, he would have immediately gone to make him pay, but MC did not want to.

Instead, he lay down on the ground, resting his head on the demon's legs, leaving him speechless. He was rarely so close to anyone, and it surprised him.

"Would you like to read me that book again?"

"Do you really want to pretend that nothing happened?"

"Satan, that's okay... I'm so tired now"

Sighing, Satan had picked up the book, beginning to read it for MC. He had stayed awake for a while, continuing to say, 'Would you read another chapter to me?' until he fell asleep and Satan read a little before he knew it.

For the first time he seemed to have fallen asleep peacefully and that no nightmare was tormenting him. Satan would have loved to stay there to watch over him, but instead he had instead slowly risen so as not to wake him up and had gently placed him on the floor.

He had to have a chat with a certain bastard.

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me post #obey me headcanons #obey me x male reader #obey me x male mc #obey me satan #om satan #obey me satan x mc

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strsburn · 4 years ago

Text

destiny led me to you | loki

pairing - loki laufeyson x female reader

synopsis - driven by the heartbreak of losing your entire world by the hands of thanos, you set out to find him, leaving destruction in your path in multiple universes; thus creating a horde of branches in the timeline and catching the attention of the TVA.

but you would do it all again if it meant you could see him once more.

notes - this is hopefully going to be a series, depending on the feedback i receive, i plan to follow the episodes only slightly because i dont want it to be an exact copy of the show.

[THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LOKI SERIES]

idea credit ( @horrorisunknowntoyou ) thank you for the inspo and allowing me to run with it!

warnings - death, violence, angst, and possible smut (in later chapters?)

wc - 2.4k

MASTERLIST • AO3

"Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same." A wrinkled hand reaches for your chin, running prune colored fingers along your jawline, doting; mockingly.

Your heartbeat pulses loudly in your ears, eyes glazing over with exhaustion and pain as you attempt to glare, the notion in vain as the titan merely chuckled amusedly.

"I can see great power in you, little one. An infinity stone pulses beneath your every vein. Tell me, where is the tesseract?"

You remain silent.

"We don't have the tesseract, it was destroyed along with all of Asgard." Thor interjects weakly from where he lies, his body held tightly in the arms of the black order.

Guilt sweeps across your being as you make eye contact with Loki, sharing a single nod as you both know what you must do.

Thanos grows annoyed with your unwillingness to comply as he walks over with loud steps, his footprints visible as he raises his gauntlet up, the power stone shining threateningly close to Thor.

"The tesseract, or your brother's head. I assume you have a preference." It's not a question. Merely a statement, one that Loki knows he must prove unbothered.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." To anyone else it would seem he couldn't care less about his brother's demise, but you know your love better than he does himself and you catch the glance of fear that washes over cerulean eyes.

You can only watch in trepidation as the stone makes contact with the God's head. Agonized cries escaping as his skin is burned by the mere power of the stone.

Loki does his best to look unaffected, but you catch the hitch in his breath as he batters inner turmoil. the universe, or his brother.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Loki turns his palm up, as a familiar blue cube materializes in his hand. The eerie blue glow casting a shadow upon his face.

Thanos steps away, smug. You force yourself to look away from Thor's accusing gaze.

"You truly are the worst, brother." Thor shakes his head, eyes disappointed but not surprised.

As Thanos moves to take the stone from his hand cerulean blue eyes make contact with your own and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as you recognize the look in Loki's eyes.

"I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again." He does not move his gaze from your own and you can't help but feel this is an unspoken goodbye.

"Your optimism is misplaced, asgardian."

"Well, for one thing, I'm not asgardian. For another, we have a hulk."

In a blur of color you are shoved from where you lie, a slithe figure covering your own as you breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon and leather.

"We don't have much time, my love. I just want you to know that I love you dearly, and I am grateful for the time I had with you. May I see you again, in Valhalla." His eyes are teary and you barely process his words, as his hands grab hold of your face and pull you into a kiss.

The kiss is desperate, filled with love and grief and you can only briefly kiss your love back as he steps closer to Thanos, rambling on about undying fidelity.

You catch a glimpse of silver behind his back and you gasp as realization sets in.

You move to reach him just as he leaps for Thanos, the knife poised for his head, frozen in mid air as the stones across his knuckles pulse.

"Undying fidelity, you should choose your words more wisely."

You cry out as Loki struggles in his grip, his skin fading blue. You crawl forward, legs aching as you reach for him, your progress hinged by your inability to walk.

"You will never be a god." The rasped words are followed by a snap as his neck gives out beneath Thanos' hands.

A tortured scream rings out and it takes you a second to realize it's your own. A broken sob leaves you as you crawl forward to reach where Thanos has carelessly thrown the body of your love.

You heave as your shaky fingers caress his face, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as you clutch him to your chest.

You rock back and forth knotting your fingers in his hair as you plead for the nightmare to end.

"No resurrections this time."

A portal opens and closes behind you, yet you make no motion to move.

You simply close your eyes and welcome the sweet release of death as the universe explodes around you.

N E W Y O R K 2 0 1 2

"'Coordinates for search and rescue, on my way now.' I mean honestly, how-" Loki is promptly shut up by the mouth guard that decorates his face, courtesy of his brother.

Displeasure makes an appearance as Loki is led to the elevator followed by the avengers that quickly file in. The only source of entertainment being the temper tantrum the green beast throws as he is denied entry. Loki can hardly contain his glee as he waves mockingly as the doors close.

As he is led to the ground floor his cuffed hands clinking annoyingly with every step he glances wearily around himself, dreading the lecture that is sure to come once he reaches asgard. He has no doubt in his mind that Odin will find perfect reason to throw him to the wolves, lest his mother get involved.

As he contemplates, his attention is caught by the sound of his brother calling for help, the guards holding him, attending to what he perceives to be a heart attack, to none other than the man of metal.

He watches, confused as a small stature kicks the case holding the tesseract away from view as the others tend to Stark.

Looking around bemused he watches to see what will conspire next. Before any other move can be made a shout is heard as the doors to the staircase along with the wall is torn apart, the hulk making his distaste for the tedious activity known.

For once since meeting the beast he feels thankful, as the case holding the tesseract is knocked open, the familiar cube sliding towards his foot.

A beat passes and grabbing a hold of the familiar cube he glances around, vanishing in a thin cloud of blue.

T V A U N K N O W N

Hurried footsteps echo down the corridor as the man moves with barely contained excitement. Tie swinging to and fro, a slightly wrinkled hand pulls at the collar of his neck nervously.

Mobius had seen many variants in his time at the TVA. Yet, none had ever come close to interesting as the file he currently held in one hand. Variant L1130 or Loki, as he was called, was perhaps one of the most complicated cases he had come across.

Born as a legend of mythology it was quite unbelievable to know that not only was he real, but he happened to be in their custody for creating a new branch in the timeline. Mobius could only hope Renslayer would agree to allowing him to be the God's superior.

Entering the courtroom, Mobius sits down and watches with rapt attention as Loki attempts to bargain with Ravonna. His plans are foiled as he tries to call upon his magic in a last effort to escape.

Mobius feels it's time to intervene when Renslayer makes it clear he is to be executed.

"You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"Actually I might have an idea of what he is capable of." He offers as he makes his way up to the stand.

His plea must be written across his face as Ravonna leans over to look at him directly.

"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea." She warns.

Nonetheless she reluctantly lets him go and Mobius has to fight off the urge to fist pump the air as he escorts Loki down the hallway.

"Oh, I'm Agent Mobius by the way." He offers a hand that is quickly ignored.

He can practically see the distrust written on Loki's face, his eyes calculating every move he makes.

Mobius is hardly surprised that as soon as he enters the room, his back turned to the God as he adjusts his projector, Loki is surging forward to attack. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he clicks a button on his remote, resetting the God as if the action never even happened.

"C'mon, let's take a look at some of your greatest hits." Mobius waves a hand, as Loki curiously sits down, eyes trained on the projector.

He finds himself staring back at a hologram of his attack on New York. His blue eyes darting back and forth with glee as chaos erupts around him.

A feeling of something akin to shame runs down his spine as he recalls his reign of terror on the city, an illusion of preying on the weak to hide his own fear, lest he fail and succumb to Thanos and his minions.

Loki clenches his jaw, arms crossing over his form in an attempt to hide himself as he turns to avoid the screen.

"I see no point in this-"

"No, no wait, this is just getting good." Mobius grins as he points to the screen and Loki finds himself once again face to face with another variation of himself.

He briefly recalls the time he had lost a bet to Thor and had to change his form into that of a ginger haired man wearing a clean three piece suit, claiming he had a bomb and required over two hundred thousand in midgardian money just to see if he could pull it off. He did, in fact, pull it off, but his mother was not happy as well as the midgardians who failed to solve the case, naming him D.B. Cooper as they had no clue as to his real identity.

His attention is pulled to the screen as a familiar voice of silk enters the scene and he watches as his mother speaks to his future self, his eyes drawn into her face.

"Then am I not your mother?" He hears her ask. Yes, you are.

"No. You are not." Loki's eyes start to mist as he watches the look of hurt pass over his mother's features before she schools her expression into one of contempt.

"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself." She decides.

The screen flickers and he sees himself talking to an intruder, his voice amused as he suggests the monster to take the stairs to the left.

Then, his mother, Frigga, lying on the cold ground, a puddle of red growing rapidly beneath her body as her eyes remained closed.

His breath hitches, anger now licking up his spine. He turns sharply to Mobius who smartly remains silent.

"What is this! Some cruel joke? Where is she?! Where do you have her?"

Mobius steps forward, expression neutral as he speaks.

"She's dead Loki. This is the future, it's destined to happen, again and again because that's how it should be."

Loki falters his eyes narrowing as he spits "You're lying! I'll kill you!"

"What? Like you killed your mother."

There's a split second of silence before an angered shout is heard, a chair splitting the air as it crashes into pieces along the floor.

Before anything else can be said Mobius is summoned by Hunter B-15, his eyes falling to Loki who remains silent and he leaves with a slight tinge of guilt burrowing in his chest at the haunted look in the God's eyes.

"You think yourself so sly don't you." Loki looks up at the unfamiliar voice as the projector suddenly comes to life, a new image flicking gently on screen. His eyes catch upon your form and he watches in awe and wonder as you sit beside his future self.

"I don't think, love. I know." He grins leaning in to steal a kiss from you that leaves you both breathless.

He watches as your eyes are filled with nothing but love and adoration for him as you lean into his side.

"Loki?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Loki tilts his head in contemplation as he looks to you, before a soft grin pulls at his lips.

"I didn't until I met you. I know that no matter who or what tries to tear us apart, we will always find a way back to each other."

A smile breaks out onto your face and Loki watches in stunned silence as the clip ends with the two of your voices fading into laughter.

"You two are meant to be together."

Loki turns as Mobius slowly comes to a stop behind him, his expression thoughtful.

"I don't enjoy hurting people you know." He responds, motioning towards the screen in reference to his attack on New York and the death of his mother.

Mobius doesn't respond, and he takes that as a sign to continue.

"I do it because I have to. Because I've had to." He looks down as he fiddles with his fingers.

Mobius hums as he replies.

"Why? Why do you think that is?"

"It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Realization lights up in Mobius' eyes as he answers back.

"A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

"A villain." Loki sums up.

"Not the way I see it."

There's a mutual silence between them before Mobius sighs.

"Look I can't offer you salvation but I can offer you something better. A fugitive variant has been killing our minutemen."

"And let me guess, you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him."

"That's right."

"How could I possibly be of use to you?"

"That's the thing. The variant we are hunting, we believe is y/n." Mobius looks towards the projector where your image is still.

"I beg your pardon?"

U N K N O W N

Mutilated bodies line the floor as a hooded figure steps over them, eyes glowing an unnatural hue.

"Is it finished?"

"Yes."

A wicked laugh fills the empty space as a portal opens in the deserted land, a set of footsteps following through.

"I'm coming for you, my love."

#loki series #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x female reader #tom hiddleston #loki spoilers #fanfic #loki fanfic #bizzarebarnes

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