#canon character request

[beefscrap]

whos ur fav canon wof character ? 🧐🧐

Basic bitch BeefScrap alert

Darkstalker!

It’s honestly smth I sort of denied- I always said Starflight (who is still one of my favs) but I think if I had to choose over EVERYONE it’d have to be Darkstalker. Tho it’s a really hard decision because there’s so many I like - I have to reread the series too

I don’t have anything profound to justify liking Darkstalker. I think he’s just a super fun concept (why I recreated it like twice now), and he was fun to read abt despite some things I wish were different. His book was my absolute favorite in the entire series. Yea!

Super basic and dumb and here’s my equally boring drawing of him lol

[kabukiaku]

latest batch of kofi commissions!

support / tip me on kofi !☕

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

A Hyrule Warriors Zelda!

Also Link! Though I probably won’t be finishing this particular sketch of him

[silkythewriter]

Hello! New anon here, um, so we have the headcanons for Vox x extravert reader. But what are your headcanons for Vox x introvert reader?

Got me curious :3

Vox x introvert reader!

Warnings!: Non!

Fandom!:Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: AH I WAS WAITING FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS (≧▽≦) TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS! Hazbin hotel has my mind running and my hyperfixation on this show is actually wild. IM SO GREATFUL FOR ALL THE REQUESTS TRUELY

Summary!: Vox with a introverted reader!

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3❤️

꧁𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹꧂

꧁𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹꧂

★📺✨!Vox!✨📺★

First things first, he always makes sure the paparazzi’s back off. Being with one of the more popular and powerful overloads is definitely going to come with some press!. But don’t worry you’ll little head off he can always just zap the equipment or threaten them.

As the show shows us he’s one little show off! But as much as he’d love to show what’s his and who’s he’s with he’d keep it private if your uncomfortable with the sudden spot light.

Depending on your personality behind closed doors, like if your more on the calmer side, or on the but more ecstatic side, it will determine what he prefers to do with you!

If your on the calmer he’d love to wind down in your arms and just lay for a bit! Maybe put on the latest news. Or show you the good press he’s getting for his latest invention. He likes having someone to listen like actually listen as much as he likes having power and using it to scare people. It does effect his daily conversation with people since they want to get one his bad side, so he adores the calm conversations with you! Even if your more a listener then a talker.

Now if you were more on the hyper side behind closed doors, he’s gonna be so confused. Where was all this energy when you guys were in the building?! ヘ（° □°）ヘ!!

Once you explain your a bit more introverted in-front of people you don’t know. Which he has to admit he gets it to a degree.

Most of the time he handles any social interaction and takes the lead if someone approaches you not that he’s jelly of them or anything! Yk that meme where it’s like

“They said no pickles” that’s quite literally you and him

Sometimes holds your hand or links pinky’s with you if your ever feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the workers in the building, or the camera shoved into your face. He hates seeing so stress so he dose his best to figure something out, which he always does!

If your not a busy demon like him and are just with him for most of the day which he will admit in secret he absolutely loves he has your own little space in the three Vs building for you to chill out and not get interrupted. He filled it with whatever you said you’d like, even stuff you didn’t tell him… weird…(💧゜^゜)

Sometimes teases you, just because he doesn’t like seeing you upset doesn’t mean he’s gonna let you get away that easy!

Like one time him you and the two other Vs were ordering over phone and rang up the place. Before handing you the phone hurriedly as they picked up making you stammer and stumble over your words from surprise. He cracked up over this, now your always alert when he has a phone around you…

He’s devious, sometimes he makes you go up and ask for straws or something you always end up getting a bit freaked out only for him to laugh as he calls the waiter himself and does it. Yea he’s foul.. -_-

On the brighter note! He always with you in a second if your having trouble with a person and are to nervous to speak up. He dosent mind doin it for you!

Makes you steer clear of the other Val and velvet, their chatter boxes, also he just prefers you to not have to talk to them.

Sometimes he basks in the pure knowledge that your more comfortable with him then others

Overall! He does tease!, he loves the expressions you make!, but in all honesty even with his personality and attuned he’s a sweetheart! Does whatever makes you uncomfortable for you!, he’s a gentleman after all.

꧁𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹꧂

AHHHH TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!! I LOVED WRITING THIS AND I LOVE SEEING WHAT I CNA DO WITH CONTRASTING HEADCANONS LIKE THESE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! ☆ ～('▽^人)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

As Much As I Do - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Author's Note: One-shot request from my love lordofthunderthr! Extra thanks because I've been waiting for the genuine smallest reason to use this gif because it's in no way going to fit into the actual story. Title from Bob Dylan by Fall Out Boy (you guys can pry my Fall Out Boy song titles from my cold, dead hands)

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15. It's fluff. Horny fluff.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, fluff

Ben felt like a fucking cat. She was touching him casually while he “slept” and he was pretty sure he was fucking purring. The Thing was definitely making some sort of goddamn low sound, and Ben couldn’t blame it. She was touching him like it was simple, his head was buried in Her neck, and one arm wrapped was between her body and the mattress while one splayed out across the bed because it goddamn could. He was in their fucking bed and Ben could do whatever the hell he wanted on it. 

Except fuck Her. 

Ben wasn’t allowed to fuck Her. 

He wasn’t allowed to make Her moan and scream and feel fucking good. Fuck Her until she said his name and smiled at him and looked so fucking perfect, undone below him. Or above him. Or against him or in front of him or clinging to his body. He didn’t give a single shit, as long as it was Her. Wanting Ben, touching him, letting him touch her. Like this—where Ben’s breath was in time with her heartbeat and her perfect hands were running through his hair—but until She’d been ruined. Until her beautiful face was flushed and her hands were clawing at his back and her pretty eyes were blown out and lustful and all of it was for Ben. For how he was making Her feel, how she was gasping and begging for him to do it again and again until the only words She knew were Ben and please and everything else was just moans and whines. Until she felt half as damn good as Ben did now, resting on top of Her as she fucking pet him and he had to fight the Thing’s urge to just stay here for the rest of goddamn time. 

“I know you’re awake, Benjamin.” Her voice was so perfect, humming everywhere around him and soothing the Thing, that Ben almost missed her actual fucking words. “I can feel you.” 

He didn’t answer. Maybe She’d just give up, and keep him right fucking here—where they both belonged—forever. 

He should’ve known better. Ben knew Her too fucking well to think she’d ever just let anything go. 

“You’re heavy,” She said, and one hand dropped to the base of Ben’s neck. “And you smell like shit.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I smell fucking fantastic.” Ben didn’t move as he grunted the words against Her skin. He wouldn’t move, not until she damn made him. 

“I knew it.” 

Clever, impossible, perfect fucking woman. With Her happy giggle when Ben squeezed her closer and her gasp when he nipped the skin of her neck.

“That’s a goddamn underhanded move, Sunshine.” He muttered, and when he looked up at Her it was like he’d been struck by lightning. She was smiling at him so gently, eyes still heavy with sleep, and so fucking beautiful. Just looking at him, watching Ben like she’d never want to look anywhere else. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pretty Boy.” She kept smiling at him, voice smug. “I didn’t do anything.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “You didn’t know I was awake,” he said Her name, and her smile widened. “You fucking baited me.” 

She shrugged, body shifting under Ben’s and making a small sound that sent a rush of pure fucking hunger through him. “Prove it.” 

Ben had a lot of favorite sounds She made. The small squeak when he flipped her body over his—sitting up with his back against the headboard and sliding her down his chest—was certainly on the damn list. 

“You’re a fucking menace, beautiful.” Ben pulled Her forward slightly, leaning down to growl in her ear. “I don’t think I’ll have to prove it. I think I’ll ask you again and you’ll just tell me.”

When Ben moved back, meeting Her eyes, he could feel her heartbeat under his hands. Resting right at the line of her shirt, never higher. Holding her right where he fucking wanted her. Against him, so when she squirmed he’d feel it. 

“Fuck yo-“ 

He didn’t wait to make a teasing remark or dirty joke. Ben just leaned forwards and touched Her. Kissed her pretty mouth until she opened for him, pushing his tongue in—almost down her throat—and just trying to get closer. As close as he was allowed to be, while still touching her more, making her feel good. Make Her hands pull at his hair, make her whimper a fucking perfect sound from her throat that Ben got to devour. He’d lost sight of his original plan, but he didn’t really fucking care. Not when he bit her lower lip and could revere in the way she leaned further into him, or when he had to try not to lose his fucking mind when she started to grind down on him. Started to practically fucking climb up his body. 

When Ben sucked on her tongue and she made maybe the best sound he’d ever heard in his life—unintelligible and breathless—he had to wrap his arms around Her and pull her into his chest. Hold Her there until he could get goddamn control of himself and not have to explain why he’d fucking cum in his pants. 

“Ben,” She whispered, head in his chest. “You really do smell terrible.”

He chuckled. “Brat.”

“Cunt. Can you please shower so we can train?” 

“I told you last night, we’re not fucking training-“ 

“And I told you, Benjamin, that I do not care what you told me.” She glared up at him, so fucking beautiful, and now Ben had to goddamn pretend he hadn’t already given in. “I am training, with or without you.” 

“You’re a pain in my fucking ass.” 

She smiled at him. “But…?”

Ben rolled his eyes, leaning his head back, forcing himself to stop staring at Her perfect face. “Fine.” 

“Fine?” 

“We’ll train.” 

“Thank you,” She kissed his neck, near his jaw, and hummed against his skin. “Now go shower. You smell like balls.” 

The only thing that kept Ben from taking a year in the shower—letting the Thing grab him and show him all the ways he could’ve just fucked her on the bed, buried himself in her and made her scream—was that sometimes, when they trained her singing, his doppelgänger would appear. It would make Her face flush, make her eyes wide and heartbeat quicken, and Ben would get to taunt her until one of them moved and he was kissing the air out of her lungs. It was something to look forward to. Something that made Ben fucking haul ass, getting in and out of the shower in four minutes flat. 

Ben hadn’t left the room when he realized that She was already singing. She’d gotten more comfortable with it, the longer they practiced, and sometimes would hum softly during movies or while doing normal things. Normal, easy things like laundry or dishes or cooking, simple fucking things that Ben got to share with Her. Got to watch how Her humming would send the world into a spiral of her, all the perfect fucking parts of her cast across the room for Ben to exist in. Colors and lights that he got to watch her sway in. 

This wasn’t that. This was singing. 

With words and instruments and a beat that ran through Ben’s body and bones. With the room turned into a dark club, with lights that flashed and changed in time with the bass. 

And She was dancing. She was singing and dancing and moving with the music like it had been made for Her. Like the rhythm had been designed to follow her legs, and the guitar had been made to move her hips. Like the whole fucking song had been perfectly tailored to her voice and how she moved through it. How she didn’t stop for even a second, never losing a breath, performing for no one like her life depended on it. 

It didn’t, but Ben’s life might. Everything in the world might hinge on letting her just dance like that forever. The Thing wanted all of this. All of Her, forever, like this, or it would fucking explode. Ben had no will to push against it. Not when She was dropping down and twisting and turning her body and so lost in it that she didn’t even see Ben. Falling to her knees and leaning back while her hands gestured with the lyrics. Trailed down her body and up again. Wrapping around her throat before falling to the side. Her whole fucking voice saying every word like it had been written for her, the whole face twisting with the emotions of the song, smiling and dropping into a pout and so fucking perfect. 

She only saw Ben when the song ended. When the club disappeared and they were back in the apartment, leaving Ben no longer hidden in the shadows of her illusion. He should probably feel like a goddamn creep, but Her mouth fell open and her heart picked up, so he couldn’t really bring himself to give a fuck.

“Hi,” She whispered, and Ben grinned at Her.

“Hello.”

“How long-“ 

“About three minutes,” he crossed the room until he was standing above Her. “Almost the whole fucking show.” 

“You, um, you showered fast.” 

Ben winked at Her. “I’d have showered faster if I’d known I was missing something. You do dance like a fucking slut.” 

She scoffed, wrinkling her nose at him. “That’s pretty high and mighty for the manwhore to say.” 

“It was fucking hot,” he lowered himself down until his nose was bumping hers. “I think I prefer your slut dancing, Sunshine. It’s more you.” 

“More me?” She gave him a flat look. “Fucking rude.” 

“How the hell is that-“ 

“You just called me a slut, Benjamin. That’s not very nice.” She whacked his chest, and Ben caught her hand. Held it there. 

“It’s more you because it’s fucking loud. Because it’s fucking captivating and hot. So fucking beautiful and good.”

Because it’s fucking perfect, the Thing rumbled. Because you’re fucking perfect. 

She was watching Ben with wide eyes. Opening and closing her mouth like she was going to say something. 

Instead, she fucking tackled him. Rammed Her body forward, crashed her mouth against his, and let Ben pick her up and carry to the couch. Training could fucking wait. Everything could fucking wait. She was making that same perfect sound from before, and her hands in his hair were making him groan, and when his hand started to kneed at her skin she made such a happy fucking sigh and Ben knew everything could wait. This was just Her. Making the Thing content and goddamn purr in his chest. Making Ben grin against Her neck when he sucked that one spot and she moaned his name. 

The whole world could go fuck itself. This was Her.

End Note: Let's all say thank you to @lordofthunderthr for some easy fluff in these dark times (Chapter 16 to Chapter 19).

I'm going to start a separate tag list for one-shots, so lemme know if you want to be added!

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

[herebecritters]

Can you draw flippy x flaky please

You’re lucky I love them ❤️

[longing-for-rain]

I’ve been thinking about The Promise again, and it’s really interesting to me how the narrative tries to frame Zuko as the “dark” character once again, despite the fact that Aang was the one considering banning interracial relationships and supporting the Earth Kingdom in invading Yu Dao (which most of the people living there did not want).

In canon, Aang only changed his stance on interracial relationships after realizing it would affect him personally. But consider this—what if Katara wasn’t interested in Aang at that point. What if she was with someone else?

It would be interesting to explore how that would change the plot.

[ohposhers]

(Art request❤) Shadow with my oc?

I WARNED YALL IF YOU KEPT SENDING ME OC REQUESTS THERE WOULD BE CONSEQUENCES GOD DAMMIT

[spoiledskullz]

For the requests :

Seasonal Knuckles X Welkin ?

made this my first October drawing lol

they were raking a path to their burrow but started playing in the leaves lol

Full below

[lloydfrontera]

ok so you know how in china 'cut sleeve' was used as an euphemism for homosexuality. that but in lorasia they use 'lullaby singer'. or 'angel fighter'. lately 'knightly escort' is making the rounds. there's a lot of euphemisms for gay people actually.

[dunanana]

So what abilities does Birdie have.

She’s a phoenix right? Does she have any fire abilities? Is she physically warmer to the touch? Is she fireproof?

And being a singer as you’ve mentioned before, can she do anything with her voice? Like maybe hypnotize people, or mimic voices perfectly? Or does she just have an inhumanly beautiful voice?

(would this count since we basically discussed the answers to this already 🤭) But yes! I made her with the image of a phoenix but with extra characteristics similar to the Ibong Adarna, a phoenix-like creature that appeared in an epic filipino poem from the 19th century. So yeah, she'd have the standard affinity to fire as well as being fireproof but her most important asset is her voice. Her most common abilities with it includes, healing, buffing and compulsion (very useful for calming particularly aggressive yaoguais or make em sleep for a time). And absolutely mimicry, she loves to trick people with it when she can (or do a duet on her own)- The abilities already differentiates her from the other yaoguai's but that isn't the only reason the empress of the heavens keep her around, it's because of her Miracles. The Miracles are a set of songs only Birdie knows and sing that's basically like a wish (Reviving someone from the dead, curing worldwide plagues, essentially a living deus ex machina-) but it can only be sung 7 times and after each song, a feather withers. It completely withers when pulled out forcefully though. When all of them are used up instead of the phoenix rising from the ashes, her body weakens and fall into a deep sleep during which she will need rest till either 1000 years to 10,000 years. Her revival is marked with a very fertile spring in each corner of the world. When Wukong met her, she's actually at her last tail so she's heavily guarded but what are guards against one drunk monkey amiright? 😩. Some of the details may be changed but this was what my idea is so far🤭

Bèiké absolutely not letting her spend her last miracle over a man, cmon sis stand up! 😭 @maiden-of-the-waters

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Do you know this queer character?

Jon is Biromantic and Asexual, and uses He/Him pronouns!

Art by @ wellotwig on X

[thelien-art]

Made an OC I named Azruzimril, I hope you like her as much as I do :)

I have a weird relationship with OCs for some reason. Some of the reasons are that they don´t fill that much of my thoughts, and another is that I need to have thought everything out for them, which is why I find D&D characters more enjoyable. But oh well, I saw a documentary about pearl divers and drew a girl, so now I have an OC.

I did have a bit of a hard time naming her as I won´t use Quenya name for those in Numenor who are not high class so I settled for an Adûnaic name as that is the language spoken.

I named her Azruzimril as it means sea jewel with a feminine ending and her family are peal divers with her as the only daughter.

I have a surprising lot of thoughts about her...

[zeorigir]

toxic old men yaoi or smthng like that

Idea from @nicktremblaywayfu

Original from

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Back to Here - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Author's Note: One-shot request from the amazing @afroslacks! Title from Shade of Yellow by Griff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place in Chapter 14. We once again face the horny fluff.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, fluff

When you’d told Ben you were okay with him touching you in front of everyone, your exact phrasing was as long as you’re not gross. You’re absolutely positive he’d heard you as well, because he’d rolled his eyes before kissing the words out of your mouth.

But the man doesn’t listen. On purpose. You know it’s on purpose, because usually he’ll grunt and grumble but do what you tell him, and right now he’s not even pretending to remember.

What’s annoying is that you’re not even that mad about it. What’s more annoying is that he knows you’re not mad about it, because he’s not even worried about you making him stop. Ben never pushes your lines to tries try see if he can make you budge, because he knows you won’t and he’ll get in trouble. But that also means he’s impossibly good at knowing what lines aren’t real. What things you tell him to do that you say because sometimes you just say stuff. Sometimes you’re just trying to pretend that you’re not always thirsty for him, don’t always want him at your side.

And the asshole has you figured out. He knows that when you say we’re going to team dinners every night you mean it, but when you say play nice with everyone you’re talking about everyone except Butcher. Ben knows that if you tell him clean up after yourself you’re serious, because that’s the start of it. Ben cleans up once and now, months later, you somehow trust him with your life and every part of you he’ll take. He also knows if you tell him we need to get out of bed he can just hold you tighter and you’ll immediately give in with a sigh.

He knows when you say not everything, not yet it’s important that he listens. That he can take everything else he wants except that, and he does. Ben touches you everywhere you’ll let him, but waits for you to give him the clear to take more.

He knows that when you said don’t be gross you just meant don’t make me visibly horny in front of everyone. Don’t make me grind into you or pin me on top of the table. 

And he is walking that line very precariously.

“Bloody fuckin hell,” Butcher mutters, and you can feel his glare from across the table. “You twats can’t keep it in your pants for one hour? Some of us are tryin to eat.”

“They are still in their pants,” Frenchie’s words are muffled from a mouthful of pasta. “And I am eating just fine.”

“That’s cause you’re a fuckin pervert, Mate.” Butcher snaps. “I didn’t come here to see two supes neckin like teenagers. I came here because Hughie gets all bloody puppy faced when I don’t.”

“You promised-“

Butcher cuts Hughie off with a scoff. “I’m here, ain’t I? And I would appreciate it if I could fuckin eat my shitty ass spaghetti without worryin that Soldier Boy’s gonna cum all over the table!”

A chorus of groans echoes through the room, and it’s almost enough to make you push Ben away.

Almost. But he drops his mouth to your neck, pulls you closer in his side, and you decide you can find a way to live with yourself.

You’re starting to worry that he can read your mind. Because before that brief hesitation even fades, Ben sucks the skin at the base of your throat once—sloppy and wet—and pulls away. You’re grateful, half because you can bury your flushed face in his shoulder as he gives Butcher a lazy grin, and half because you were getting dangerously close to climbing on top of him.

“It’s not our fault all you pussies have blue balls.” Ben drawls, and you kick him under the table, glaring up at his stupid, smug, handsome face.

Don’t be an ass.

He rolls his eyes. They’re being fucking prudes.

Benjamin.

“You two care to have this conversation out loud?” You turn to see MM looking at you with a bored expression. He’s never really pissed about this anymore, and you think he just gave up on being disgusted. He doesn’t like it, but he’s not mad. It’s honestly more than you could ask for.

“No.”

You whack Ben’s arm. “Sorry. We’ll stop.”

Ben scoffs, and hunches over his plate. His arm over your shoulders drops down, tugging you into his side so you can only move your hands—everything past that trapped against his body—and you don’t care. He’s touching you, and he’s warm, and you can feel his annoyance but it’s nothing compared to his desire. It’s nothing compared to the affection you can feel rush through him when you give him a smile, even if he just grunts and glares at his pasta like it’s the one that cock-blocked him.

You know it’s a lie. You might not lie to Ben, but you lie a lot to your team. You lie to Hughie when you say you like certain Billy Joel songs because you don’t want him to gape at you and try to convince you otherwise. You lie to Frenchie when you say you’d love nothing more than to hear about his latest supe-killing weapon, because he gets really excited—it’s kind of adorable—and sometimes it’s actually pretty interesting. You lie to Annie when she picks you up for lunch and asks—every time without fail—what’s going on between you and Ben. You say it’s complicated, but it’s not. It’s actually really simple: You want Ben more than you’ve ever wanted anything and he wants you but not like that, just as a friend he can fuck. And that kills you a little, so you’re trapped in this limbo where Ben can almost make you moan at the dinner table—but you won’t let him just carry you back to your bed and make you scream and fall apart under him—and Annie can give her a look that tells you she knows. She knows you won’t stop doing this. There won’t be more tonight, because Butcher’s still glaring at you and Hughie’s whole face looks like a tomato, but tomorrow the exact same thing will almost certainly happen. Ben will kiss you once, innocently enough if you’d only seen it in passing, and you’ll taste him, you'll feel the want pounding in his chest, and immediately pull him closer. The absolute fucking asshole always anticipates you keeping yourself against him—he plans on it—and his arm will immediately move over your shoulders, hand reaching your jaw to angle your head where he wants it. And then he’ll go and go and go until someone coughs—Hughie or Annie—or makes a remark—Butcher or MM—and he finds whatever line you have for the day. Then he’ll pull back and you have to pretend you’re fine with it. Like your pouting is because he’s being cocky and annoying and not because you wish he would pick you up and lay you on the table. 

It’ll happen the after as well, then again after that, then every night until Butcher either shoots one of you or you figure out a way to just attach Ben to you forever. 

End Note: They really can make any situation horny. Also if you've noticed I'm re-using gifs, yeah :( I am. Please sign my petition to make Jensen Ackles just do stuff in character so we can have more gifs.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles

[ca-8]

I really really loved your DogDay fic (like a lot), so I thought I'd request a DogDay x player reader fic about the nightmares both of them would more than likely have when this is all over and they've escaped Playtime Co, and how they'd try to be there for each other when they happen.

Black curtains smothered their view. (Y/n)'s body was light. Someone must have carried them from the sweet warm hug of their mattress and into the shadowing atmosphere. Fabric rippled and swayed gently just barely beneath their falling figure, separating inches before contact... And so, falling past the waving curtains that faded harshly into cracking rubble.. Falling past the growing cracks swirling into light pink, stretching tubes and blue fuzzy ropes... Falling into hell's fiery, drifting red smoke through long, thin fingers that cursed away flesh... Elliot's voice welcomed them once again.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡

DogDay x Reader Rippling Deja Vu (Part 1)

(WARNING: The following contains scenes of graphic body horror and mutilation)

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Wet spider webs caught them, like a Venus fly trap breaking the fall of a frightened butterfly with a torn wing. A chill ran down their spine, causing them to stir in their sleep, and soon, (Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open. Dim flickering light beamed down them, watching them. Cold goo kissed the back of their neck. They shuddered and pulled themselves up, dragging behind lines of webs connecting them to their new bed. It tugged, urging (Y/n) to fall back into its embrace, until the lines finally broke. They collapsed on freezing tile. When (Y/n) opened their eyes, the first thing they saw were the tattered clothes they wore on the day they entered the gates of hell: a dirty tank top torn at the side and thin jeans caked in dust and dried blood. Their eyes widened. "No...No no no no no....!"

Rapidly swatting off the remaining clinging webs, (Y/n)’s bottom collapsed onto the tiled floor. Their quick and heavy breaths rushed into the dusty cold air, flailing around in tiny clouds before fusing with the hallway’s stretching darkness. After finally casting off the last piece of the web, their hands suddenly went still, trembling in place, then clenching into fists a few times as if they were holding a Grabpack’s trigger.

(Y/n) looked up. Blinking light illuminated parts of the stretching shadow for brief seconds, beckoning them to let them light their way. But they couldn’t move — they wouldn’t dare move. As soon as they’d jump to their feet, something meant to lie still, something first made for play and learning and innocence that then would become a shell for screams and blood and torn flesh, would come after them and pull and dig and prod and eat at each breathing morsel they offered. (Y/n) sat still, very, very, very, very still. 

Then they got up. Their trembling body begging to stay safe under the only working light began to get pulled by marionette strings. (Y/n) started to choke on their cry for help and fought with every atom within them to stop moving, but the blackened jaws had already consumed them. And through all that desperate effort, a pathetic whimper only left their lips. 

GO BACK

RUN

HIDE

HELP

THE HOUR OF JOY

One, then four, then ten, then innumerable warnings laced in trauma appeared under the blinking lights. Blue and red and yellow overlapped with one another, shouting over each other, screaming at a once naive, curious fool. (Y/n)’s body didn’t listen, it just had to see what that gorgeous cherry red light was growing in the distance.

They attempted at another cry for help, but only another quiet muffle sang along with the factory’s distant curling cogs. First wiggling their fingers, then shooting their hands up to their face, (Y/n) felt for a mouth, a hint of lips or drool or just anything, but nothing. Just a blank (s/c) canvas of skin. Their throat erupted in shouts and wails, they even tried pulling at the canvas, and still nothing — the fool had become a shrieking tomb. 

The walls stopped moving, and they looked down to see their legs glued to the floor. 

And the ground began to roar.

Ripples and rumbles threw (Y/n) off their feet and forced them to watch the rear of the hallway. Flickering lights hinted to the devastation’s core; a flash of a human skull protruding from rising, cracking tile, a glimpse of light showing onto its growing body that melted from bone to a curling wet tongue rounding into a pink and blue twirling body, and that blinking, twirling body grew larger as its organs and bones stuck out and into darkened pink, stretching arms, weaving through a monstrous ribcage, tying together blue and purple fur and paws with ravaging whetted claws, growing and growing and growing against the cracking floor and screaming walls, growing and growing and growing and growing and growing

until it stopped.

And the human skull twisted, slowly rotating on its spinal column. Curling all the way around, blood rained from inside the splitting bone, emitting an appalling crackling echo as bits of it snapped off onto the ground. One of them hit the fool in the forehead. Finally, it stopped once completing its orbit.

It stared at (Y/n), and (Y/n) couldn’t help but stare back at it. Naked teeth and unblinking empty eye sockets, sloshing pulsating guts and creaking legs. They wanted to run, to hide, anything to stay as far away as that thing as possible. Its mouth opened, and its jaw stretched down and down and down toward the floor, bits of bone snapping and muscle from beneath bulging from the holes and stretching and stretching and its teeth reached to the ground and dug underneath the tile. 

It stopped. It winced. It pushed forward, claws scraping against the tile as its mouth excavated gathering tile, making the walls and ceiling screech such a deafening bawl. Faster it crawled, right down the hall, right towards (Y/n).

Right as glowing dots of life awoken in those empty sockets, they regained control of their body again. They scrambled onto their feet and bolted down the hallway. 

“A……?”

The hallway seemed to curl in on itself, but that didn’t stop them. (Y/n) so desperately wanted to cover their ears from that godforsaken screech but they couldn’t risk it. They just had to make their legs push faster, no matter how much they ached or cramped or were being sucked into the earth-

“..An…l….”

They were slowing down. Something of a thousand pounds became attached to their ankles and drove them into the melting floor. They yelped and fell right onto burning slosh, howling in pain and immediately yanking themselves up. Pained gasps and whines heaved from their lips, and they looked back to see the boiling floor had engulfed their legs, spreading up to their calf. (Y/n) spotted sections of their skin closer to its mouths peeling back to reveal bubbling muscle, before it all were to be swallowed. 

“....Angel…”

They tried hauling themselves up, but grew unsteady and fell back on the burning slosh. (Y/n) let out an agonizing cry as skin began to peel off from their arms. Smoke rose from their body, as if the spirits of their faded bits were already accepting the inevitable end. They peered over their shoulder — the creature was standing over them.

“.....Angel…!”

It dug up their body. (Y/n) violently flailed against its gasp, and through their tears they saw muscle plunging from their arms and legs and more of that thing’s hands wrapping around their tiny, weak, insignificant body, twirling around their waist and making them feel their spine slowly snap.

Agony, sweet deserving agony, topping with the fool’s suffering melody

“(Y/N)!” 

And they were back in their bed’s warm embrace. 

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped wide open, letting out a fresh, tearful waterfall streaming down their flushed cheeks. The first thing they saw in darkened solace were a vast, open, empty mouth and eyes that were scrunched up in blazing worry. But this uncanny face was that of familiarity, of warmth, of real joy; yet they couldn’t stop the quickened breaths.

“Angel, it’s okay, look at me, everything’s okay,” DogDay said, although by the tone of his voice, he was starting to panic as well. 

With trembling, non-melting arms, they cautiously hauled themselves up, and their breathing began to slow. Putting his giant paws against their back and on the side of their face, DogDay gently shushed them as his thumb stroked their wet cheek. 

“That’s it, just focus on breathing, you’re doing so well, angel…” With that giant smile as bright as the sun, his guiding whispers lit up the room. Before they knew it, the alerts for death rang silent and (Y/n)’s heart became steady. DogDay sat down on their bed and placed them on his lap, and for a few minutes, he held them close to his fuzzy, vanilla-scented chest. 

Then, (Y/n) spoke up in a hoarse voice: “I’m sorry.”

DogDay stopped petting their head for a second. “Now what are you apologizing for, angel?” he uttered in bewilderment. Words bubbled up inside their throat but they couldn’t bear to speak. He looked down and continued to stroke their shaking head and back. “Another dream about the factory, I take it?”

(Y/n) tensed up and nodded. His grip on them became tighter, but not too tight. 

At first, he didn’t know what to say. Decades of being trapped with nothing but tiny savaging predators taking joy in tearing off his skin little by little, day after day, left him blinded in miserable need. In rare moments of peace, he always dreamt about an angel descending from above and down in the hellish depths that once housed happiness, and blessing those worth saving with freedom. But not once did he see him reaching that freedom; in fact, he still wonders to this day what he did to deserve being one of the only survivors after failing so many so dear to him. And he despised it. 

The DogDay he was conditioned to never think about himself so much. He should always know what to say, especially now. His beloved angel had suffered through so much just like he did, and to make matters worse, they were apologizing for it. If anything, he should be the one…

…”I’m sorry too.”

“What?” (Y/n) gazed up at him. Even in the darkness, the light in their beautiful eyes beamed such radiant sacred life. Life that he swore to protect since that day.

“I-I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to witness and endure so much, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you when you saved me, I.. I’m sorry that you took in so much pain, I-! I…” DogDay took in a breath — ‘don’t cry, this isn’t about you.’ — “I…I’m sorry, angel. You’ve been through so much, and for our sakes… for my sake.”

He embraced them back into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back stubborn tears. “You have every right to be like this — to cry, to lash out, to get so, so scared — after everything that’s happened, you’re allowed to be this vulnerable more than anyone else.” 

They were so quiet. ‘Did I say the right thing? I didn’t make them upset, did I?”

But he did. Something inside (Y/n) cracked at last. Their chest tightened and pulsated and wallowed up, and something crawled up their throat that made them gasp for air and for more of him. They quickly wrapped their arms around DogDay’s torso and let out a shuddering wail as tears flowed freely down their cheeks and onto his chest. 

Feeling his heart hammer against the wet spot they buried their face in, he froze in place. Then his smile drained every ounce of uncertainty, and he held his angel once again. 

“That’s right, angel, let it all out. You’re safe right now,” he softly muttered to them, letting a tear fall from his eye, “and I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

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AND that’s it for right now! As with the last request, there’s a shorter word limit for posts that directly respond to Asks, so I’ll be cutting it off right here and will be posting a Part 2 soon! Sorry this took me a bit to release; new college quarter is starting and I've had a little bit of writer's block, but I have overcome it!! Thank you so much to @paragon-of-obsessed for requesting this, and extra thankies for liking my last DogDay fic! This was so much fun to write, and I can't wait to dive into the next part!

Like what ya saw? Well you can commission your own private piece now!! Read more about that here! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great day!~ 💜💜💜

(Also my ao3 is the_real_catnap_98 if ya wanna follow me on there - same posts are (gonna be) on there + fanfics staring my OCs!! (...and a self-insert, lOOK lIFe iS HArD-/lh)