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felibrary · 11 months ago

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LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR - chuuya nakahara

synopsis: if you wouldn't know any better you'd think that chuuya nakahara doesn't take a liking to you - he loathes you. but what if one day you make a shocking discovery that it might be the opposite.

pairing: chuuya nakahara x gn!reader | wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: im at the first ep of s4, so if chuuya mischaracterized no need to wonder…, school au-ish kind of??, cursing (fuck), dazai teases chuuya for his crush, chuuyas kinda not rly good with his feelings and expressing himself, drinking (chuuya offering to go out and drink), dazai plays cupid/matchmaker

a/n: when i wrote this i didn't have 15 yo dazai or chuuya in mind (cause of the school au yk) just as them idk but interpret it however you like - high school or college wtv, im so obsessed with chuuya rn y'all don't even know, hope u guys enjoy this little thing i've whipped up in an hour

you're convinced that chuuya nakahara hates you.

that's one thing you're sure of. after all, he avoids you like the plague; however when the two of you do get in touch with one another, he starts cursing you out, calling you names such as “dumbass" and abruptly leaves.

yeah, you're pretty sure that that guy dislikes - if not despises you. although until now you've hadn’t had the slightest idea why. well, that was the case up until now.

some days have passed since you started noticing it. every time you hung out with dazai and started laughing a bit too loudly at his jokes or lightly slapped his shoulder, chuuya gave you a death stare - if you wouldnt know any better he looked like he’d grab your throat any minute to shut you up.

admittedly (and also embarrassedly) you never really noticed it until dazai has pointed it out. which, on one hand, explains the weird feeling you’ve recently gotten - it felt like someone was shooting daggers at the back of your head, luckily for you, that’s solved now.

but on the other hand, you still demand an explanation why chuuya would do that. is it simply because of his (one-sided) hatred towards you, that can’t be the case right? or did he have a huge crush on dazai, that’s the most realistic explanation that you can think of.

once school ended and the bell had just rung to release everyone from their classes and go back home. you’d usually scurry home right away, because there was no point in staying longer, after all who’d want to endure this hell house also known as school more than necessary, it's no use right?

well jokes on you, staying over time was definitely worth it. kunikida assigned you the task (forced) to carry a huge stack of boxes full of documents and paper to your homeroom teacher's room, because it was the “right” thing to do - well at least according to his ideals.

“but what about dazai? that idiot just ran off and is probably slacking off right now!” you protested, because it's not fair when everyone has a task to complete and someone else just gets to relax, right?

at your complaint the blond could only scoff “i’ll scold him later, but for now let's just concentrate on the task in front of us, time is running out.”

that’s how you ended up here, back pressed against the heavy classroom door that separated you and the two guys that were inside the room as you tried to listen in into their conversation.

initially your plan was to find dazai, drag him by the collar of his white button up and beat his ass for skipping and leaving you alone with a ton of boxes that not only cost you ten minutes to carry around or so.

because neither kunikida or anyone else didn’t bother to tell you that there were three, fucking three, of those staples of boxes that were filled with countless papers.

however, it came to a change of plans upon hearing chuuyas’ voice. usually, any sound that was made inside of the classrooms was drowned out and barely audible to hear outside the room.

this time, that didn’t seem to be the case though. chuuyas’ screaming and dazais' hysterical laughter were faint but loud enough to hear from outside the room.

“come on chuuya, there's no need denying it, you have a massive crush on them.” dazais’ voice was laced with amusement as he started laughing out loud which seemed to piss the redhead off.

you were able to hear a small huff that escaped dazais mouth. “chuuya, there’s really no need to start getting all violent, just admit that you’re absolutely whipped for them!” the brunette chuckled. “so stop kicking me in the balls!” that probably earned him another kick as you could hear dazai letting out a small “ouch.”

“shut up, shitty dazai.” the guy in question only snickered at that. “yeah, yeah. everyone’s able to tell that you’re madly in love with them. every time you’re around them you start to get beet red, the color even exceeds the one of your hair! a hilarious sight to look at, really.”

you didn’t hear a response from chuuya and apparently neither did dazai so he just continued his rant. “also, let me tell you one thing, you’re not making it any better by cussing them out or intently staring at them, that’s just scary, man!” dazai closes his eyes and starts shaking his head before tutting in disappointment.

“oh chuuya. the brunette sighs, eyes still closed. “letting a beauty like them slip away this easily by not showing any proper interest. you’re to be pitied, really.” the male moves away from his previous position and bolts over to the door, crossing his arms as his back leans against the door.

an exasperated sigh leaves chuuyas mouth. “what do you expect me to do then? they probably have a horrible impression of me already. if i pull up with a bouquet of roses and some cliché pick up lines, they’d probably stare at me in horror, wondering if i got possessed or something.” he sneers at dazai.

just who in the world are they talking about?

dazai pretends to think for a moment before snapping his fingers. “well for starters, how about greeting them, doesn’t even have to be verbal, just some waving or nodding. then start hanging out with them!”

“idiot! how's that supposed to work from just greeting each other!” the ginger scowls at dazai.

“hold your horses.” the brunette whistles. “i didn't say to rendez-vous and have a candle-light dinner. how about accepting those group invites first that you keep declining. then you’d have the chance to meet up with them more often and get to know them.”

dazai continues to advise chuuya by giving him tips and recommendations “try bonding over stuff with each other, like favorite shows or food. and if you’re not incapable of doing so, how about complimenting them. wouldn't hurt you know?” dazai shrugs in simplicity.

chuuyas still skeptical “assumingly that was the case. the two of us attending the same party, they’re alone and i finally get the chance to approach them, what the fuck am i supposed to say?” dazai only smiles at chuuya, a look that says “that’s up to you.”

“why not use me as your lab rat!” dazai suggests optimistically.

“no way in hell!” chuuya shoots back pessimistically.

after pondering and musing for a while, chuuya comes up with a curt sentence. “i find you really good looking and cool.” the redhead stops and both you and dazai await his continuation in anticipation. “wanna go out and grab drinks sometimes?” chuuya doesn’t look up from the floor which he’s been staring at for the past minute. the tips of his ears tinted in a vermillion red.

“well, that wasn't so hard was it?” dazai asks cheerily, clapping his hands together. “if you still have doubts, how about you try it on the real thing now?” and before you can realize what's going on dazai swiftly steps away from the door before grabbing the door handle and opens the door, revealing your figure to the two guys.

you’re not sure who's more taken aback, you or chuuya.

e/n: as y’all can tell the title is inspired by frozen's love is an open door cause y’know dazai opens the door for chuuya to confess his feelings. does this make sense lol??

#felis staple of books ⋆·˚ ༘ *#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya nakahara fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya fluff #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x gn reader #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya bsd #bsd chuuya

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cal-flakes · 2 years ago

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╰┈➤ rafe picking up his drunk girlfriend

warnings: swearing. alcohol, underage drinking.

summary: much to rafe’s dismay, his girlfriend had always been close with the pogues, drinking with them, fishing with them and so on. one particular night, y/n gets a bit too drunk and rafe has to pick her up.

the fire crackled away infront of them as the group chattered amongst themselves, empty beer bottles scattered around behind them. jj and y/n drowned out the others in a drunken attempt to sing some sort of old song, neither knowing the correct words. taking notice of this, the others broke out in hysterics, however this only further egged them on.

y/n sang, or slurred as her friends might say, at the top of her lungs, beginning to twirl around the fire they had made out of rotten wood and pizza boxes. making her way around her friends, she reached out to pope, determined to make him get up and dance.

“you’re wasted y/n, you should sit down” kie called from her place on a tree stump. turning her head, y/n’s face contorted. “you’re wasted y/n, sit down” she mimicked her friend. nevertheless, it was a fact. the pogues knew y/n couldn’t really handle alcohol, it was only in the last few months that she had decided to come out of her shell a bit more. she’d spent the majority of her life sticking to rules, doing as she was told. that was until her close friends from school had convinced her to live out her teenage years in style.

“i-i am not drubk, ‘m having f-fun kie” y/n mumbled, yet the hiccups interrupting her words said otherwise. her friends chuckled at this, allowing her to go on for a little longer. that is until she let out a small scream.

their heads snapped quickly to where y/n was, they would’ve thought she’d disappeared into thin air if it wasn’t for her drunken cries coming from the other side of a large fallen tree. john b, pope and kie jumped out of their places around the fire, attending to their lightweight friend as quickly as possible. jj on the other hand, was also too shitfaced to even realise she’d taken a tumble.

“y/n are you okay?” pope asked, poking his head over the tree to take in the sight of his friend flat on her back, sprawled out on the floor. despite the flowing tears, she managed a thumbs up. “c’mon y/n, that’s two fights you’ve lost with a tree now, when are you gonna learn?” john b mocked while reaching down to help her up.

kie stepped over the tree, also helping y/n up off the floor as she lolled about like deadweight. pope and john b shared a knowing glance as they all pulled y/n back up. once she was up, kiara helped feed her some water, hopefully sobering her up a bit before she went home.

“you know what we’re gonna have to do right? john b?” pope whispered as they stepped away from the girls. to this, john b let out a deep sigh, knowing exactly what they were gonna have to do. “yeah i know” john b grumbled. “who’s gonna do it though? im not, i did it last time.” pope protested quickly.

both boys glanced over to kie, she quickly shook her head however, already knowing what they were going to ask. “no, no way. you can do it this time john b, he almost bit my head off last time i spoke to him.” before john b had anytime to argue, kiara had tossed y/n’s unlocked phone into his hands, looking at him expectantly.

pacing around the fire, john b reluctantly tapped the screen a few times before holding the phone up to his ear and letting it ring. after a few tries, the recipient finally answered the call. “hey baby, you okay?” a raspy voice called out through the phone, earning a small chuckle from pope as he overheard.

“hey rafe..um, it’s john b” he mumbled, knowing how this was going to go. “why the fuck do you have y/n’s phone?” rafe sneered, blood boiling at all the possible situations running through his head. “yeah, i- um, i think you need to come pick her up, she’s a bit wasted and she’s hurt herself.”

overhearing this, y/n’s face contorted, her mind clearing for a second as she realised what was going on. “are you telling my fucking boyfriend on me john b?” she slurred, her voice loud enough for rafe to hear. before john b could get another word in, rafe put the phone down on him. “asshole” he muttered, already dreading rafe’s arrival.

fifteen minutes go by and y/n had been in a huff every single second, she knew rafe would jump at the chance to argue with her friends, so john b calling him to come get her was not the most intelligent idea.

the pogue’s heads turn at the sound of a car engine pulling up not to far from them. sharing looks as they heard a car door slam. y/n jumped at the sound, the dreading feeling gone as excitement to see her baby took over. the leaves behind her rustled and she leaped from the camping chair, just about falling into rafe’s arms. “hiiii babyyy” y/n sang as he helped her back up, stabling her. sparing his angel a quick smile, he turned to narrow his eyes at her friends.

“what the fuck did you give her!” rafe bellowed, waking jj from his wasted slumber. the blonde boy stood up, stalking over to rafe, well..trying to atleast. “who the fuck do you think you are cameron? talking to us like that?” jj growled through gritted teeth, chest heaving. rafe chuckled to himself lowly, squaring up as he did. “you’re fucking lucky she’s here maybank, or i’d have already punched your face into the ground” he retorted.

pope and john b had situated themselves in the middle before jj could lunge at him. “heyyy! h-hey! stop it! you guys gotta accept that i love you bothhhh! your my b-boyfriend and these g-guys are my besties!” y/n sang from besides rafe, throwing an arm around both rafe and jj. attempting to de-escalate the situation.

rafe’s nostrils flared as he took a step back, throwing a glare in the pogue’s direction before leading his girlfriend away. “bye guys! see you so-ooon!” she yelled while following rafe to the car.

stepping into the drivers side, rafe gathered himself for a second, not wanting to lash out at her for something so small. releasing a harsh breath, he turned to her, intent on lecturing her about drinking so much when his eyes met her puppy dog gaze. his thought out words suddenly crumbled away. sighing, he intertwined his free hand with hers and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “seatbelt” rafe ordered, his tone teetering on harsh. “yes sir!” she giggled before doing what he asked.

as they drove, rafe felt the anger in his veins dissipating as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “rafe?” she mumbled. humming in response, he glanced at her before turning back to the road. “do you think you could make me a sandwich when we get back? pretty pleaseeee” y/n pleaded, half expecting him to say no.

“of course baby, anything for you”

#dom!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #soft!rafe cameron #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe x y/n #rafecameron #obx #outer banks

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kisskiss-slashslash · 2 years ago

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Im really ticklish so I’d like to request slashers and Micheal reacting to chasing a victim (their future s/o) and grabbing them and their s/o just bursts out laughing bc they’re too ticklish there and it doesn’t matter where the slasher touches them they just keep laughing bc they are really ticklish

So sorry this took so long, but here it goes.

Slashers with a very ticklish future s/o

Jason Voorhees

He is hopelessly confused when he grabs you and you suddenly burst out laughing. He is way too used to screams of terror. But he remembers his mother occasionally tickling him to make him laugh when he was feeling low as a child. It is that connection in his brain that makes him put aside his machete and give you a closer look. Despite your laughter, there is still a look of terror on your face.

He stretches out his hand, and pokes you in your side, causing you to laugh harder.

Hey, this is... *fun*.

Vincent Sinclair

He actually gets mildly annoyed. You are so ticklish that it even breaks through the paralytic poison that he injects all of his victims with, making you pretty useless as a base, unless he kills you first, and he really doesn't feel like working with a corpse right now. Besides, there is only very little laughter happening in Ambrose. He and his brothers rarely have a reason to laugh. So maybe having someone like you around would brighten things a little.

Freddy Krueger

The laughter quite literally saves your life. Unlike the others, Freddy isn't so easy to give up on a kill, but as soon as he touches you in the dream, you burst out laughing, both in and out of your dream, and that alerts your family to what is happening and makes them wake you up before Freddy can even do anything else.

Brahms Heelshire

You are his new nanny, and he hears you offhandedly mention how ticklish you are while you are on the phone with a friend. He is immediately intrigued and decides to put it to the test. That night, he sneaks to your side while you sleep, and carefully pokes you in the stomach. Even in your sleep you curl up and let out a sleepy giggle. He grins behind his mask. Oh he is gonna have a blast with you.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is used to random hysterical laughter from his brothers, so when you suddenly start laughing when he grabs you, the wires get crossed in his head. Only friends laugh together, right?

He touches you again and you laugh louder, and now he laughs too. He will overdo it and make you laugh until your sides hurt, but afterwards, you have won a friend, and possibly more, for life.

Michael Myers

Honestly, your seemingly random laughter is your ticket to survival. Unlike many of the others, he isn't going to immediately give up on killing you, just because you laughed. But you can use his momentary confusion to make your escape. As you run into each other time and time again, though, he has to admit to himself that you may not be as terrible as other people.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #michael myers x reader

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rekreku · 2 years ago

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hi hi <3 i absolutely love your writing. i saw that your requests are open!! if you’re comfortable with it, i was wondering if i am able to request zenitsu, tanjiro, and inosuke from demon slayer with a s/o!reader who gets severely injured during a mission with them? it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with doing this! thank you though :)

in harm’s way.

various demon slayer characters x gn! reader

type: angst

prompt: in which your boyfriend finds you severely injured.

note: thank you so much for the rq, sweetheart! <3 i love these three sm!! again, im sorry for being mia for over uhh (checks watch) a long time now! :’) i don’t have a set schedule and school has been kicking my ass. but i see everyone’s requests and i will get to them, i promise! <3

characters include: tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu.

•

the first thing TANJIRO does when he sees you’re injured is scream out your name.

he stops whatever he’s doing to get you out of the middle of the fight, making sure nothing else can hurt you.

he keeps you close to his body, as if trying to keep you warm with his body heat.

he’s panicking, not sure what to do. he peppers your face in kisses, telling you that you’ll be okay and that you’re going to get the proper treatment you need soon.

inside, he blames himself for letting you get hurt; though, he’s not going to tell you that, but he will be apologizing over and over under his breath.

he gets you to a safe space and promises you he’ll be right back, continuing to kiss your face, using it as a way to calm himself down.

he gives you his kimono to stop as much bleeding as possible before returning to the battlefield.

•

the first thing INOSUKE does when he sees you severely injured is stop everything he’s doing.

of course, that’s easier said than done, considering how passionate he is about fighting.

however, he’ll rush to your side, crying out your name and telling you to get up; he’d be extremely confused as to why you weren’t really responding.

and then, when he sees your wounds, he’ll go crazy. he’ll start mindlessly attacking the demons left and right, too blinded by his fury.

afterwards, he’ll take you somewhere safe, unsure of how to help.

he’ll ask tanjiro for help; which is a shocker anyway, considering how much he likes to take care of things himself, but he wants you safe and protected.

he’d feel lowkey extremely guilty, pinning it on himself for not protecting you or being your shield like he swore he would be.

he’ll stay by your side as much as he’s able before he has to leave for more missions.

•

the first thing ZENITSU does when he sees you’re severely injured is cry hysterically.

he wants to make sure you’re okay, reaching for you and immediately dragging you out of harm’s way.

he’s probably swearing under his breath about not being able to be there to protect you, calling himself a coward.

he’d cry to tanjiro and inosuke, unable to fully get enough air to breathe properly, causing him to let out choked sobs.

he’d refuse to let go of you for even a minute, even if you were being examined.

he’d gently run his hand through your hair when you’re laying in his lap, whimpering soft words to you, practically pleading for you to keep fighting until they get help.

#anime #gn!reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #zenitsu agatsuma #inosuke hashibira #angst #tanjiro x reader #inosuke x reader #zenitsu x reader

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boybeholding · 3 months ago

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oops this ones a fic. sorry that im just the stoner x reader guy i cant help it

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

2012 Raph + Stoner Reader Content Warnings: recreational drug use, swearing

Not requested.

Mikey, Donnie (wip), Leo (& 2)

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Casey introduced you.

Raph should have been more skeptical when he dragged him out to shoot hoops in the middle of the night, insisting that they had to go to the high school and use their court.

Casey had thought of this plan about 5 minutes before its execution, so he was simultaneously begging you not to freak out and Raph not to be mad.

"Casey-!? What the fuck IS that thing?"

"oh, you are one to talk, you poser garbage--"

you got along. eventually.

when Casey and him brought you to the lair, you witnessed a screaming match to put any family holiday to shame.

the orange one... kind of took your side. in that he dragged you away in the middle of it to watch shitty anime.

it put you at a 3v3 between the group of friends/siblings. you didn't meet their father until after a life-threatening catastrophe where you... arguably... saved april's life.

so, by proxy of your shared traumatic experience, you got to hang around sometimes.

Raph was dead asleep when you cut class to go down there. scared the shell off of him when you jostled him awake.

"Hey, pepper. Wake up."

he threw his pillow at you.

"C'monnn!! Casey ditched me for April. I hate smoking alone."

"I hate when dumbasses wake me up in the middle of the night."

"It's 2pm. I just left school."

"My night."

he got up eventually. he lead you down a seemingly random pipe, insisting he knew a spot that wouldn't smell like. well... sewer.

he didn't ask any questions, just pretended like he knew what he was doing. when you asked him if he wanted some, he just scoffed and took the pipe from you.

you had to reach over and adjust his hand to hold it right, even as he protested. you lit it for him.

"don't take too big a hit."

"yeah, yeah, i get it."

he took too big a hit.

you made him hold his arms above his head as you fumbled for your water bottle, laughing hysterically at him. you gave his shell a few firm pats as he coughed his lungs out.

you honestly thought he might puke.

he didn't, though. asked to try again. and again.

"dude. you are so high," you snickered at him.

he bristled at you. did he realize how close your faces were? how your hands were on top of each other on the pipe?

you grinned all wide and found yourself lost in a laughing fit, and it was only egged on harder when you watched his face split into a grin.

"shut up," he hissed between giggles.

did he even know how cute he was?

"hey, pepper,"

"okay, knock it off. not my name."

you pouted. "but you're red and green!"

you reached for him and he planted a hand on your face, pushing you away.

"and so spicy," you cooed, yelping when he suddenly shoved you hard. you pouted, laying on the ground on your back.

"case'n point."

you sat in silence for a long minute. or, maybe only a few seconds. it was hard to tell.

"hey..." he broke the silence. "...do you think sensei's gonna be able to smell this shit on me?"

you rubbed your eyes. "oh yeah. one hundred percent."

"...wait, shit, really?"

#i need a writing tag #tmnt x reader #tmnt fic #tmnt #tmnt imagines #tmnt 2012 x reader #raphael x reader

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fwuffcat · 7 months ago

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// jiaoqiu character story - leaks

IM CRYING DYING THROWING UP SOBBING SCREAMING HYSTERICALLY ON THE FLOOR I WOKE UP TO JIAOQIU CHARACTER STORY LEAKS ADHSLJD

I feel so bad for him :(

tldr is basically i think the borosins and the foxians were always at war and he was a military healer, he didn't join the alchemy commission because he wanted to heal loads of people and the place that requires a healer the most is the battlefield. even though he heals all these people eventually a lot of them die anyway, and he starts questioning why he continues to heal people if that's the case. some sort of huge beam leaves the battlefield in ruins and kills all the abominations of abundance, jiaoqiu rescues feixiao i'm pretty sure (the girl always by general yueyu's side) and his sense of taste was numbed by whatever that beam was and that's why he likes spicy food because only when he added loads of spice to it could he taste anything :')

that explanation made a lot more sense in my head, but yeah what do ya'll think (i personally think hoyo cooked with this one)

#hsr #honkai star rail #jiaoqiu #character story

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conundrumsofphilosophy · 11 months ago

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hi!! how do you think each merc would react if they got stuck on an elevator? maybe reader could be there too and started panicking, how would they deal with it? ^^

ANON I LOVE THIS. this is such a fun prompt im obsessed. sorry this took literally months . college is hard

scout

- he's immediately mad. kicking the wall and repeatedly pushing buttons

- ends up pacing and freaking anyone else in the elevator out

- when he starts yelling for help it's over

- if you start panicking it'll just make him panic because he doesn't know what to do to help you, he just gets louder

soldier

- slamming on the doors with his entire body weight. does NOT realize the doors will open to an elevator shaft and not a safe floor

- SCREAMING for help. he's not panicked really just very impatient. it's very un-american to get trapped in an elevator.

- if he's in there too long he'll wear himself out and sit on the floor and pout for a while. sad sad puppy dog man

- if you're freaking out he'll just yell in your face which will not help but he is yelling reassuring things. he just has zero volume control.

pyro

- definitely just saying what the hell over and over again. not yelling just muttering to themself and being mostly unintelligible

- kicks the door a little bit but doesn't get overly violent

- mostly just dismayed at the situation. will sit down and fiddle with whatever they have on them, tinker with whatever weapons anyone has. patient

- will sit there in silence with you and help you breathe deep if you're panicking. mutters kind things which you can't understand but he's trying

engineer

- pops open the panel immediately and starts fiddling with wires and trying to fix it himself. not at all worried that he might break it worse

- throws stuff if he can't get it working again. very much with the dangits and dammits and dagnabbits

- starts yelling for help but gets bored of it pretty quick and just huffs and puffs

- if you're freaked out he'll calm himself down though. he'd hate to be part of the reason you're freaking out

demo

- he doesn't even notice at first. he's just drinking and smiling.

- once he realizes it's been a loooong time in the elevator. he'll sort of just poke at some buttons, kick at the door a little bit. surprisingly nonchalant about it

- if he's drunk enough he'll start to prepare to blow the door open you gotta make him not do that. because it would most certainly not help

- if you're freaking out he'll stare at you for a while before he even says anything because he doesn't know what would help. he isn't helpful at all

heavy

- so normal about. he is chilling. if someone else has an idea that requires brute force he will contribute but won't initiate it himself he's perfectly content to just wait it out

- i like to think he brings a little paperback with him all the time and he will just sit down and read

- might even fall asleep. his snoring would make anyone else in the elevator want to die though

- probably the best person to have with you if you're freaking out he can provide anything you need. need to be grounded? bone crushing hug. need reassuring words? might be a little broken in english but he's got em.

medic

- gone into hysterics i think. especially if there are more than three people in the elevator he needs out right now

- snaps at anyone that tries to get him to help with anything he's like. sitting in the corner rocking back and forth

- he's literally completely 100% normal the second you get out it's like nothing happened

- he's not helping you if you're freaking out unless staring at you menacingly is helping

sniper

- doesn't care literally whatsoever he's used to being in enclosed spaces for hours at a time

- you better believe he's pissing in jars if he has them.

- will help with the Escape Plan if he deems it smart enough

- if you're freaking out he'll just sit there but he thinks it's helping

spy

- soooooo frustrated there are much better things he'd rather be doing than being trapped with You People

- filling the elevator with cigarette smoke much to the chagrin of everyone in it. he does not care whatsoever

- gets bored quickly and will sit and flip his knife endlessly while still chainsmoking

- if you're freaking out he'll probably just say something he thinks is kind but just makes you feel worse

#doe's drabbles (request)#doe's drabbles (headcanons)#tf2 #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #tf2 headcanons #tf2 mercs #anon

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bcdrawsandwrites · 2 months ago

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Day 20: Alt prompt: Prison Characters: Compton Boole and Ford Cruller Warnings: References to canon animal death. Summary: Compton didn't realize he'd be getting out of jail so soon.

This was certainly one of the worst situations he'd found himself in. Not the worst, of course—that would be the divorce. And after that, the events that had transpired last night. He did not want to think about those events, even though they were what led to his current circumstances.

He did not much want to think about that, either.

So he didn't, leaving his consciousness to hang somewhere above his body, which was sitting in a filthy, reeking cell. Some other part of his mind was still off somewhere else, screaming hysterically, while in a distant memory—somewhere several kilometers away—were the voices of cheering abruptly turning to screaming before going silent, then starting up again, over and over in a cacophonous background chorus.

And beyond all that was another very, very small voice, wondering what he was going to do. He'd thought this would be a new life for him—going rogue, helping the hurting animals like he'd always wanted—but...

He could barely remember turning himself in, having the faintest memories of going to the police, being questioned and dragged around for a while and then winding up here.

He couldn't even imagine where he should go after this, after what had happened. Perhaps he should just... stay here.

Just as the cheering-to-screaming started anew, another voice cut in:

"All right, Boole, you're free to go."

It didn't register, at first, sounding just as far away as everything else. It wasn't until the officer repeated himself a few more times that his consciousness crept a bit closer to his body. "C-come again?" he heard himself stammer.

"Someone's come to bail you out."

Compton blinked once, twice. "A-are you sure?"

"Yes, Boole. I don't know why anyone would want to bail out a psychopath like you, but here we are."

He didn't know, either. Surely not Barbara—she wanted nothing to do with him now to begin with, and after that...

"It's some American. Friend of yours?"

That shocked him right back to his senses, and he stood up. "A-an American? What would...?"

Someone—perhaps the American in question—stepped into the room. His hands were behind his back, and he stared at Compton with a look of keen interest, his eyes looking him up and down, studying him. The officer glanced at the man. "You sure about this?"

"'Course I'm sure," the man replied in a strong accent Compton had only ever heard on TV. "Let 'im outta there."

The officer shrugged. "Your funeral." With that, he strode over to Compton's cell and unlocked the door. Before opening it, however, he turned back to the other man. "If you believe the rumors, this guy's a mentalist."

Compton didn't have time to shrink back as the man shot a glare at the officer, his calm facade instantly gone. "You gonna let 'im out or what?"

The officer glared back, but opened the cell regardless. Compton hesitated.

The man's demeanor went calm again as he stepped toward the cell. "C'mon. Let's get you outta here."

Compton looked around; he'd never really taken a moment to take in his surroundings. The cell was cold, and dark, and reeked something terrible.

Much like the cages the animals had been in.

Shuddering, he closed his eyes and lowered his head. "It's true, you know."

"Hm?"

"What I did... and what the officer said."

"I know."

Slowly he looked up. "You... do?" The officer was staring at him with renewed disgust, while the man was still watching him calmly. If anything, his expression had grown warmer.

Compton took a step back. "Then you know I should stay here."

"No, I don't think so," the man replied, with the air of someone answering a question of the weather.

"But you knew what I did!" Compton cried, tugging at his hair, and the memories were coming back, the animals and their joyful voices that were too loud, too much, and he'd just wanted to help, he'd just wanted to save them, but he'd—he'd— "I-I'm a murderer."

"Now hold on—"

"I didn't mean to do it," he went on, his breathing coming in short gasps, "but they wouldn't—I didn't—oh!"

The officer shouted in alarm and scrambled away as Compton hunched over, grasping his head, but the man charged forward instead. Compton wanted to tell him to get away, but he was panicking too hard to speak. It was going to happen all over again, only this time it wouldn't be animals, it would be—it would be...!

Something touched his head, and he yelped, waiting for the terrible, inevitable explosion.

Nothing happened.

Gasping, he looked up, and found the man standing a few feet away, his posture that of one who was starting to flee but had paused, a bright smile on his face. The cop, meanwhile, was hiding behind his desk.

"Wh... what happened?" Compton stammered.

"Otto's plan worked," the American replied, straightening himself and placing his hands on his hips. He did not bother to explain who "Otto" was. Glancing to the side, he scratched his head. "Didn't think we'd have to use it so soon, but..."

"Use what?" Compton reached up to scratch his own head, only to find a covering had been placed on it. Blinking, he removed it, and looked it over; it was a simple covering made of cloth and a metallic material that he did not recognize.

"We saw in the news what had happened, and Otto... eh, you don't care about that part. Important thing is, it'll stop those outbursts of psychic energy."

He stared at it for a long moment, and his hands began to tremble. "It's..."

"Not terribly attractive—I told him that, but he didn't want to waste material until we could—"

Tears blurred Compton's vision. "It's... wonderful."

The man knelt next to him. "Well, there's more where that came from," he said, lowering his voice. "My name's Ford Cruller. My partners and I are studyin' our psychic powers out in the states. We'd be happy if you could join us."

Compton had to fight to keep from using the head covering—this wonderful, life-changing hat—as a handkerchief. "Y-yes," he replied. "Yes. I would love to."

#compton boole #ford cruller #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #my writing #fanfic #scrambling to post this before work #still wanna get the rest of these posted

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homotronserviceace · 9 months ago

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Title: In Every Lifetime

Fandom: Lovely Runner (TV)

Tags: Jealousy, Fluff, Soft Soljae

(note: english is not my first languange and this is purely self-indulgent, so please proceed with caution)

“What? You’re going to Sunjae’s set?” Hyunjoo asks while Sol gathers her stuff from the office table.

“Yeah. We haven’t seen each other lately since his filming started.” Sol whines with a slight pout on her lips. “I already asked Dongseok and he said he’ll have a short break later.” She heaves a sigh. “I miss him so much, Hyunjoo.”

Said woman suppresses the urge to gag. She thinks she may never get accustomed to this version of Sol. She’s always been cute and affectionate, yes, but it’s like meeting Sunjae and dating him unleashed another persona in her that was locked before.

And if the lovesick way she’s acting right now is any indication, Hyunjoo can bet her car that her plan to surprise Sunjae will blow up on her face.

“Are you crazy? You do know he’s starring in a romantic film, right?”

“And?” Sol asks, actually oblivious. She looks at her watch. She has to drive now if she wants to make the most of his break.

Hyunjoo grabs at her arm, trying to stop her. “I know Sunjae loves you very much–he practically has permanent heart eyes for you– but do you really want to see him acting?”

Sol still seems to not get it. “My Sunjae is a very good actor. Why wouldn’t I?”

Hyunjoo sighs. This foolish girl. “Yeah, your Sunjae is indeed a very good actor. And he happens to play the role of a man in love with another woman. I saw the script and it involves a lot of… intimate scenes. Do you really want to see that?”

Sol, much to Hyunjoo’s surprise, lets out a hysterical laugh. “Yah,” She starts, wiping at an eye, “I’m not childish like that! I’m a very cool girlfriend–I know how to separate work from personal life!”

---

Oh, how wrong she was.

As it turns out, Sol is definitely not a very cool girlfriend. No, not even slightly. And she really, really wants to do something childish, right about now, like grab the actress ravishing his boyfriend by the neck and fling her across the room.

Sunjae is sitting on the bed with his partner on his lap. He’s got one hand on her hips and another one spanning her back. She cradles his head, tilting it back to kiss him deeper. A low moan is heard in the room. Sunjae shifts to lay her down on the bed.

It’s only when the director yells a cut! that Sol registers how tightly she’s been holding the strap of her poor bag. She releases the breath she’s been holding. She opens the palm of her other hand, surprised to see red crescent marks from her nails.

She looks up. Sunjae and the actress pull away from each other. Her boyfriend, ever the gentleman, helps her up. She doesn’t hear it, but she’s sure he’s asking her if she’s okay. He’s always been kind like that to his co-stars. Sol wishes he wasn’t.

She knows it’s unreasonable because Sunjae’s just doing his job. She’s never had an issue with it before. She’s seen his films; seen him kiss actresses countless times…

Seeing him in action, though, is an entirely different thing. Jealousy like she never felt before rises in her gut. She wants to smash something.

When the director cues them again, Sol’s not masochistic enough to stay. She turns around and leaves.

You’re right, she texts Hyunjoo when she gets inside her car. This is a bad idea.

What did I tell you, comes her immediate reply. Should I get soju or makgeolli?

I love you, Sol types. Both please.

—

This scene feels oddly familiar, Im Geum thinks, as he watches her younger sister chug soju like apple juice on their rooftop. Her wife sits across from her, looking equally as drunk. She brightens up at the sight of him.

“My gold,” She singsongs, reaching out adorably to him. He sits down beside her. The smell of alcohol assaults his senses, and he gapes at the amount of bottles on the table. Seven?!

“Yah, Hyunjoo!” Sol suddenly screams, startling the couple. “You think you’re safe? Just so you wait, sooner or later your husband will be kissing other women!”

Hyunjoo gasps, palm dramatically slapping over her mouth.

“You’re right! I can’t let that happen!”

“What are you talking about? Why would I kiss other women?”

Sol jabs a finger at his brother, cross-eyed. “When you have a girlfriend-” she hiccups, “-don’t you think you should protect your precious lips? Shouldn’t your girlfriend be the only one allowed to touch you?”

What, Geum rages, did Sunjae cheat on her little sis?

He’s about to ask her when Sol shouts again.

“Yah, Ryu Sunjae!” The finger jabbing at him earlier is now directed at the heavens. “Why did you become an actor and kiss other women?!” She downs another shot, and then mumbles, “Where’s that damn watch? I need to go back again and make sure he doesn’t become a celebrity…”

Relieved, and a little bit confused by the last bit, Geum sighs. Thank goodness. He thought he had to cut ties with his top star brother-in-law.

He gets his phone and texts Sunjae.

—

“Dongseok, did Sol come by earlier?”

Sunjae is sitting on the van, eyes fixed on the image of his girlfriend that Geum sent him. His adorable Sol, red in the face, looking like a cute angry hamster.

You dumbass, the text below the image read, why’d you let Sol watch you film a bed scene?

“Oh? Didn’t you see each other? She called me earlier asking for your schedule, and she said she’ll surprise you...” Dongseok replies, eyes briefly meeting him in the mirror.

“Yah!” Sunjae shouts, horror dawning on him. “You know what I was filming earlier!” At the front, Dongseok’s eyes widen in realization.

Sunjae looks at the photo again, and notices the alarming bottles of soju on the table. He recalls a memory from a lifetime ago– Sol wearing a trash can as a hat, a drunken shout from a rooftop, and a fallen slipper.

He orders Dongseok to drive to Geum’s home.

He’s got an angry and jealous girlfriend to pacify.

—

Sol is out cold when he arrives at the couple’s home, which is a blessing because it made carrying Sol into the van and into his house easier. He deposits her on the bed, propping her up slightly on the headboard so he can fuss over her.

He carefully removes her coat, her shoes, and the pins and bands on her hair. He makes quick work of removing her make-up, knowing first hand how awful it is to sleep with one. He was just about to remove her top to change her into comfortable sleep clothes when her eyes suddenly flashes open.

Flustered, Sunjae drops her top and falls on his ass on the bed.

“Oh, you’re awake.” He stutters out. He grabs the bottle of water by the bedside and hands it over to her. “Drink. You must be thirsty.”

Sol receives the water with complaint, drinking the entire thing without removing her gaze on him. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, still looking at him, gaze intent and determined. No, not at him. On his lips, particularly.

She licks her bottom lip, and Sunjae stops breathing. He gulps, suddenly feeling hot. He didn’t expect the night to go like this, given her inebriation, but if she wants…

His not-so-pure-like-oxygen thoughts are halted when she leans over and scrubs at his lips. Furiously, like she’s trying to wipe the entire thing off.

It clicks, and Sunjae lets out a chuckle. Is she literally trying to rub off the evidence of another woman on his lips?

She’s so concentrated at the task that her face forms a charming little frown. God, his girlfriend is adorable when jealous.

“Do you think it’s funny?” Sol pouts at him, and he wants to explode at how utterly cute she looks. Sunjae holds her face in both hands, squishing it into a pout.

“Im PD, weren’t you the one who recommended this script?” He asks, teasingly.

Sol heaves a sigh, then purses her lips, before leaning back on the headboard. Sunjae follows suit and sits beside her, arm pillowing her head.

A few moments pass before Sol speaks again, voice small and whiny. “But did you have to kiss her so passionately?”

He can’t help it– Sunjae laughs. Oh, how the tables turned.

“Do you believe me now, then? I told you, I’m a master of meloromance.”

Sol pinches him on his side, a particularly ticklish location, which makes Sunjae yelp. “Sorry, sorry! I’ll stop laughing now!” He grabs the offending arm, then slides his hand down to intertwine her hand with his. He places his other hand one on top of theirs, covering it completely.

The familiar feeling of joy and contentment washes over him, as it always does, whenever he’s in her presence.

“Sol-ah,” Sunjae starts, tone placating. “Were you really mad?”

Sol shakes her head. “No, not really.”

“Just jealous?”

She nods, although faintly.

“Why?”

“Because…” Sol takes in a large breath, as if preparing for a speech. “When on TV, or in cinemas, when I’m watching you, I’m also watching your character. I get immersed in your role and its world. But watching you on set, however… there is no story. It’s just you and a woman. Kissing.”

Sunjae just keeps looking at her silently while she goes on her tirade, giving her the moment to vent out her frustrations.

“I know it’s stupid. But… I don’t know. She’s so pretty… and tall… like all your on-screen partners were, and watching you two— you just looked so good together. And I know it’s your job but I just—It just dawned on me just how many attractive people you got around you in the daily.”

He’s got a lot to say about this, but he just kept his mum. Something like you are literally a goddess in my eyes and celebrities should be thankful you chose to be behind the cameras.

Sol just kept on, almost stumbling over her words, refusing to meet his eyes. “Ah, I don’t know! And you weren’t supposed to know, anyway! I was gonna get over it myself… stupid Im Geum—”

No longer able to stop himself, Sunjae kisses her. Partly to shut her up, partly because of how pretty she looks all riled up. She was about to speak when he kisses her again, this time a little longer and a little deeper. Her arms come up to his neck while his finds purchase on her waist. When he leans back, her eyes look a bit hazy.

“Sol-ah, I love you.” Sunjae says, looking deep into her eyes.

He takes a deep breath, knowing there’s no turning back once he says it. He swore he wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but he guesses she’s bound to know one way or another, anyway. In Hyuk has a big mouth.

“You’re the only woman in my life. The only person. Ever.”

Confusion paints Sol’s face, and then surprise.

“What? What do you mean only?”

“There’s no one, other than you. I never dated anyone.”

Surprise turns into disbelief.

“In this life? But… you never knew me?”

“Not just in this life. In all of them.”

Sunjae sees the weight of his confession dawn on her. Practically sees the excuses firing up in her brain. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. He continues.

“In my first life, when you mistook me for a delivery man? I knew then, the moment you gave me your yellow umbrella and those white candies, that I love you.”

He brings a hand to her face, bracing himself and her, for what he’s about to say. They haven’t really talked about this, no. “And I don’t want you to blame yourself, Sol, okay? But when the articles then said I was depressed, had anxiety and was undergoing medication? It was true. But it wasn’t because of the public, or their perception of me.”

Sunjae’s surprised about how easy the words come to him. Weightless, now that the burden has been lifted. He used to be only able to speak of it in moments of inebriation, with In Hyuk, or in his sessions with a therapist.

Sol, on the other hand, seems to be overwhelmed with emotions. He notices the tell-tale signs of her eyes reddening.

“It’s because of guilt and regret. That I couldn’t save you. That it was because of me that you got hurt–” Sol starts to protest, but he shakes his head. “--I couldn’t forget you. And while that was partly because of guilt, I know it’s also because of a love that could have been.”

Sol’s lips start quivering, and he can see how hard she’s trying to keep her tears at bay. This girl– she’s the one crying for me again.

“When I met you again on that bridge, I was glad that you didn’t remember me. That I at least have been someone who’s given you strength– that tou didn’t remember me as a person who caused you pain. ”

Like a dam overflowing, Sol’s tears fall down her face. Sunjae catches them all with his palms.

“And in another life, just when I thought I couldn't possibly love you more, I find out that you literally jumped through space and time just to save me. It was… I was gone, Sol. And I loved you for fifteen years in a life before that, even when all I had of you was a photograph and the memory of a few months to sustain me. There was just no going back for me, once we crossed paths. You owned me– body and heart and soul.”

She was full on crying now, breaths stuttering with each inhale. Sunjae soldiers on. He’s got a point to get across.

“And in this life, even without memories of you, it’s like all the love I held for you in all my lifetimes accumulated so much that it overflowed in this one. Somehow, I knew in my heart that if it wasn’t you, I would rather be alone. And the moment we met— this will really sound cliche— it felt like I was coming up for air after a long time underwater. My mind sure took a long to catch up, but my heart recognized you.”

Sol reaches up to grip on the hand on her face, holding it tight.

“All of this to say, my dear Sol– I love you. I’m yours— before, now, and forever. You literally cannot get rid of me, no matter how much you try. So,” Sunjae pinches her cheeks, “As much as I enjoy seeing you cutely huffing and puffing like a kitten, I’d much rather it not be because of jealousy. Okay?”

Sol’s face crumple with her tears, but a watery smile graces her lips. Sunjae feels the room brighten with it. Sol nods and whispers a small okay. And the she throws her arms around him, burying her face on his chest, crying some more.

“I love you, Sunjae. You’re the only one for me, too.”

He hugs her tighter. “I love you too, Sol.”

It takes her a bit more to calm down. When she does, she looks up to see his face. She traces the bags under eyes, frowning a bit. “I’m sorry. You should have been resting, but here you are…”

Sunjae smiles at her, booping her nose with his. “You are my rest.”

That must be the wrong thing to say, because Sol burst out crying again.

A memory comes back to Sunjae at that moment, making him chuckle.

“Why are you crying? I didn’t make you cry.” Sunjae asks her, a teasing smile on his lips.

She punches him lightly on the chest. “Yah! You definitely did!”

#lovely runner #sol #lovelyrunner #sunjae #fic #fanfic #im sorry

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samsalami66 · 2 years ago

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And I'm back again with an addition to my Knight!Hob Prince!Dream au (I've decided to go with royal au for shortness' sake lmao) which you can find the first part of here.

Once again all the love and thanks to my wonderful @im-not-corrupted , who provided me with motivation and screams as I wrote this little drabble and is the #1 fan of this au.

-----

Dream hated audiences.

Audiences meant spending an awful amount of time in his parents' presence, and even if nobody paid much attention to the third royal child in a line of seven, it was still painful to spend even a minute longer than necessary in the King's and Queen's presence. Dream could feel his father's disapproving gaze drift towards him every time his eyes would droop a bit too low, whenever his elbow would slip from where he had it propped on the armrest of his throne to hold his head upright, which felt heavier with every word the current Lord or Duke let spill from his lips.

Lord Burgess, the man currently grazing the family with his abnormally boring presence, looked about ready to explode as the King once again denied his request for an addition to his land, which would allow him to hunt in the forest neighboring his crops. But the forests were strictly royal territory, and Dream could have told Lord Burgess in much fewer sentences than his father that they would never give up on ancestral lands, not in this lifetime or any other.

But just as Dream's eyes were about to close to allow him another few moments of respite from this whole ordeal, sounds echoed through the halls outside the throne room. Voices got louder in volume and increasingly more frustrated the closer they got. It was a blessing, an escape from these confines of literal hell, and Dream perked up curiously to figure out what the tumult was about.

Between the shouts and hisses he could make out a hysterical You can't just waltz in there! and a very joyful Watch me, mate! and Dream decided that this was bound to become a much more interesting audience than he had anticipated. And, true to the small exclamation Dream overheard, a man did just waltz into the room, a smile on his face that would cause even the strongest hearts to faint in charm. Dream didn't quite know how he managed not to, when bright brown eyes caught his over the entirety of the room in an instant, familiar mischief hidden somewhere behind the obvious amusement.

Christ, those eyes had brought ruin upon Dream once already, years ago, when they had both been young and stupid. Though, by the looks of it, Hob Gadling had not cast that particular trait aside, if his entrance was anything to go by. Guards were hot on his heels, panic written all over their faces as they didn't manage to keep this man from interrupting a private audience with the royal family, which would surely end in them being excused from their service.

But Hob Gadling seemed to care little for their steps behind him or the guards eventual fate, his stride purposeful, a clear destination in his step. Dream realised much too late what that destination was, too distracted by the way Hob's shirt clung to muscles that had not been there when they had last met, hair that was longer and curlier than he remembered and that framed a bearded jaw so beautifully Dream almost swooned. There was no time for that though, not when those eyes finally left his and were cast towards the ground, not ten meters away from Dream.

Hob Gadling was kneeling, his head tilted in a bow that was entirely unnecessary for the position he was already in, in front of Dream.

Not in front of the family, or the King himself, but before Dream's throne, an unmistakable message to everyone present, a showcasing of ultimate loyalty.

To his left Dream could hear Lord Burgess hiss in annoyance at the interruption, the words You dare to interrupt my audience, commoner? falling from his lips like venom-infused blood. Dream did not care for boneless threats.

He merely cared for the smile stretched over rosy lips before him, the cheeks that stretched with unconcealed amusement. Two guards reached Hob Gadling's side, prepared to force the uninvited guest out the room, and it took all of Dream's years of carefully trained composure to not jump from his throne in a sudden surge of panic.

"Leave him be!" he demanded, voice overshadowing any and all conversation as he slowly rose from his throne. Hob's grin turned victorious at the exclamation, his posture more relaxed where he knelt on the black carpet to Dream's feet. "I want to know what he has to say."

There were eyes on him, Dream knew, those of his parents, those of Lord Burgess, those of his guards. He knew his eldest sister was hiding a smile somewhere to his left, fully aware of his and Hob Gadling's relationship, and the only person in this world aware of Dream's feelings towards this infuriating, obviously insane man.

All the attention Dream had held with his command shifted towards Hob Gadling when he opened his mouth to speak, determination colouring his voice with self-confidence that vibrated through Dream's body like the pleasant rumble of a cat's purr.

"I come to pledge myself to you, my Lord," Hob started, almost causing Dream to choke on thin air. "In body and in mind, I swear to protect you with my blade and life. Make me your knight, Dream of the Endless, so that I might serve under your name until I take my last breath, until my body betrays my desire to keep you from harm."

There was no sound filtering through the pounding of Dream's heart in his throat. This – This, Hob's declaration, his offering of complete and utter submission – it was insane, completely crazy, simply not done, not in royal families, not in any politics around the world. One pledged themselves to the King and thereby the country, not to a prince who would never be king, an outcast from his own folk, from his own family.

This wasn't done, had never been done before, and yet Dream found he didn't care. He didn't care for one single moment about propriety, not when all he had ever wanted kneeled before his feet and offered him Heaven.

"I do not know who you believe yourself to be, but I will not allow-" The King started off, but Dream cut his reply short, his voice purposefully overpowering that of his father.

"I accept your request."

The answer wasn't grand or eloquent, entirely false in its deliverance, unofficial without the ritualistic knighting. But Dream was in a trance, his hand not his own as he stepped down the stairs to stand before Hob, one hand reaching to the hilt of the sword that was hidden beneath his robes.

When Dream pulled the sword from its sheath and held it to Hob's head, all those eyes reflected back at him was trust, even when faced with total submission, with surrendering himself entirely to Dream, his office and his personal whims. All of this, when Dream had left him behind at the mere notion of friendship, knowing he could not be friends with a commoner. He could be friends with his personal guardian, with a Knight who stood entirely under his protection, and the fact that Hob had been willing to go to such lengths to find a way to be in Dream's presence…

Well, if Dream felt tears build in his eyes as he allowed his sword to rest on Hob's shoulders, once on each, then that was between him and his Knight. And when his voice trembled slightly as he spoke next, then that was just between them too.

"Rise, Sir Robert Gadling."

Dream huffed a silent laugh into the hug he was pulled in next, the excitement bubbling in his chest enough to chase away every ill thought of his parents' opinion as he burrowed his face in Hob's neck.

The sense of safety he felt in the arms of his oldest friend was almost too much to bear.

#dreamling #the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #royal au #knight!hob #prince!dream #hob is an idiot #and devoted #he would do anything to be with Dream lets be real #salamiwrites

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jointhearumanati · 6 months ago

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🌎 HETALIA AMERICA HEADCANNONS 🌎

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a southern drawl when he's angry through yelling ain't and y'all are common during these times

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a Boston Accent when tired

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a Louisiana accent when making a serious point

🇺🇲 Alfred has a Bald Eagle 🦅 Tramp Stamp tattoo with the date of his independence under it

🇺🇲 Alfred has his flag tattooed on his right Bicep

🇺🇲 Alfred is the best at cooking on the Grill he even owns an electric smoker

🇺🇲🇱🇹 Alfred likes to swing dance with Tolys while putting on some old Jazz

🇺🇲🇯🇵🇫🇷 Alfred and Kiku go to Comic-Con together sometimes Francis also tags along

🇺🇲 Alfred religiously watches Ancient Aliens and goes to Alien Con

🇺🇲 Alfred likes going Whale watching they are one of his favorite animals

🇺🇲 Alfred helps conservation efforts for Bald Eagles, American Bison, and other native species

🇺🇲 Alfred doesn't drink much he prefers soda or coffee but he does drink socially usually just 1 beer or a Jack and coke but only one drink and never in his home country as it isn't legal

🇺🇲🇮🇹 Alfred and Lovino are actually good friends Lovino makes pizza to eat while they chat

🇺🇲🇨🇦 Alfred and Mathieu bought each other custom hoodies online together Alfred's is blue with a white star, and ties and Mathieu's is white with a red maple 🍁 leaf, ties and hood it's their favorite hoodies

🇺🇲🇬🇧 Arthur knits sweaters for his kids every Christmas Alfred's sweaters are Iggy made to this day

🇺🇲🇬🇧 Arthur's middle name is Ignatius that's where Alfred got the name Iggy

🇺🇲🇱🇹 Alfred has a crush on Tolys though he keeps it to himself he's fine with how things are at the moment

🇺🇲🇰🇷🇬🇧 Alfred and Im Yong Soo are besties they listen to K-pop get super hyper on sugar and hang out usually doing stupid stuff like lighting illegal fireworks one time they accidentally set Arthur's hair on fire Alfred just decided to sing his national anthem while Arthur screams and Im Yong Soo laughs hysterically in the background #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲🇬🇧 On his birthday Alfred decided dumping tea on Arthur is a patriotic activity then he books it while laughing #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲🇷🇺 one of Alfred's favorite pastimes is to Prank Ivan and try not to get killed he thinks it's hilarious it just ends in a prank war where they try to out prank each other sometimes innocent nations get involved unwillingly #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲 Alfred owns a fourwheeler and likes going mud bogging on rainy days

🇺🇲🇨🇦 Alfred Hates the cold he will try to hibernate the whole winter like a bear Mathieu however loves the cold and will stand in the cold with a tank top eating ice cream just to tease him Alfred gets him back during the summer because Mathieu hates the heat and usually cools down in a kitty pool ice bath while Alfred sits in front of him tanning and teasing him

#Alfred is a menace to society and I love him for it

#headcannons #hetalia #aph america

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imjunebitch · 1 month ago

Text

channelers chapter one: feeling small and as though creation is fucked

im June, bitch! and this is Channelers, a dumb series about wizards, God, and things that call themselves gods.

tw: gratuitous body horror, asshole queerphobe protagonist (just in this chapter), gratuitous dick jokes, scary elements kinda, existential dread, and nodens.

reblogs and feedback always appreciated :D

Fear greatly, for though GOD knows no equality, that Supreme Being does know equity. You who hold His power, know that while you live, all Creation must then groan, and the darkness that predates time will also know your name-

"You were nine years old when it happened, and you would tell them you didn't remember it, but you did, you do. You let yourself internally categorize the question as another, simpler question, 'did you see anything helpful, anything that makes sense.' And no, you didn't, so you felt justified lying then, as a child, and lying now, even to the doctor you pay actual money, under the pretense of having someone who you could be fully honest with. You don't even admit it to yourself.

You went out to the road at night at your grandparents house with your older cousin, and he pointed where the long, narrow road stretched out between two seemingly endless walls of trees, and the thin dusky light emanating lazily from the porch dissolved into utter darkness, blacker than black, and grinned, and said whoever walked the furthest without turning and running would win.

And you'd whined, but then he called you a baby, and you weren't a fucking baby, you were nine years old, and he laughed, and said you were too a baby, listen to yourself, saying the word fuck like you had never said it before, you were bad at it. That made you angry, and you walked quickly down the road. He followed you, mocking you initially, and then falling silent.

The darkness was big. It was so big that it was like slipping out of light entirely, floating into space, no energy, no sound, nothing, nothing. Your cousin spoke quietly, said you could turn around, and you knew he was trying to trick you, so you kept going.

And then it was so dark that you could not see your arms or legs, and you heard your cousin scream, and you ran. You ran. You left him.

You moved as quickly as you could, and heard screams cut short, and saw that you could not see any part of your body, and you felt that your feet were no longer touch any ground at all. You knew you were moving forward, but as you wiggled your fingers and toes and realized that you could not do that, as you no longer had toes or fingers to wiggle, you realized you were not running. You could not.

You were alone, of course, truly alone, and nothing seemed to exist but blackness. But in the mind of a human, especially a child, anthropomorphizing anything and everything is unavoidable, so you imagined the malicious or uncaring void that had taken your cousin as a great, monstrous black goat. This brought you a little comfort. You imagined that your cousin had not simply vanished, that perhaps he had been eaten. This, too, was comforting. You spoke, and heard your own voice, either aloud or in your head. You giggled hysterically in relief, and began to speak.

Sometimes when you were young you would whisper terrible things to yourself in bed and feel the dark joy, shame, and terror of transgression. You would say things like I love Satan and then laugh and weep in terror, in your bed, late at night. In that moment, you didn't pay attention to what you were saying, because you knew it would terrify you, petrify you, make you scream and weep. You spoke words you would never say.

And when they found your curled up on the side of the road and asked you where your cousin was you lied and said you didn't k-"

Eddie liked to feel important. It was truly among his favorite things. So although the job paid chickenshit, although the people he worked with filled him with a mild sense of loathing, although seeing the fucking scene kids and teenage skater assholes made him feel older than he was, and sapped him of hope for the future, the simple fact that being a mall security guard let him wear a uniform, and carry a baton, even if he wasn't really allowed to use it, was enough of a thrill to keep him more than happy.

Eddie's life was not interesting, but he was not an interesting man. He had light brown hair, which he cut short. His face looked a little bit like it had been broken apart and then mended, almost, almost perfectly. Proportions and composition just a little off.

He would wake up in the morning and walk to work. Sometimes he would allow himself breakfast, usually from the food court, and then he would walk to his locker, put on his uniform, and grab his baton. Occasionally the blue dyed-hair, pimply fucker he worked with would remark on how he seemed to enjoy holding the baton just a smidgen too much, and ask if he felt the object was phallic in any sense. He wouldn't respond to them.

Today they were nowhere to be found, God be blessed, and so he slipped his uniform on in silence. It was crisp. Nobody else kept their uniform crisp. Eddie liked to think he would have made a good police officer. Or perhaps a military officer. But no, it was the mall, the mall for him. He reminded himself as he looked around the dingy locker room (green, almost brown walls, metal benches, gray and somehow almost preternatural levels of grime and stickiness coating the metal of the lockers themselves) that you only had what you were given. He held this power, at least, over his tiny slice of creation. He tried not to be ungrateful, but it was difficult. 28 fucking years old, and this was all he had?

A bad line of thought. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Were you meant to do that the other way? He wasn't sure. Whatever, breathing didn't do shit anyway.

He grasped his baton firmly, cursing the barely adult shit-stain for making him think of it as a penis intermittently, and walked out to do his job.

His job consisted of walking the mall, which he often did like a man in a trance, and listening to his radio, from which he would periodically be told that there was an issue. When there was an issue, he would go to the person or people causing it and speak in low, friendly tones, and clutch his baton, firmly and suggestively. No- Not "firmly and suggestively," fuck, fuck that blue-haired cumstain. He would grasp it... No... Grip it, grip it with authority- FUCK.

He would hold it and tacitly threaten the troublemaker. There. Goddamnit. But that rarely happened. When it did, it utterly delighted him. It was a moment of brightness in an otherwise dull and overly repetitive life. A brief respite from his irritatingly routine existence. As he clutched the blunt, firm, thick rod-

God fucking damnit, he couldn't stop thinking about penises now.

Nothing much was happening today. Mall goths were congregating in their quiet, pale-faced circles. Old men and women were walking with apparent determination and enthusiasm. Stanley, who sold T-shirts and was easily ten years his senior, waved at him.

"Hey, Stanley," Eddie murmured quietly, looking at the wrinkly, large-headed man. Stanley smiled disingenuously and spoke in whatever accent he spoke in. "Hello Edward. Where is the kid?" Eddie groaned "Sick, probably? Hell if I know. Not here, that's enough for me." Stanley smiled. "Not your friend, then." Eddie sighed. "Not my friend. Obviously not my friend. I doubt that I have ever said anything about them to you that wasn't derisive."

Stanley shrugged. "Edward, all day I talk to people. Customers, coworkers, bastards who walk the mall and purchase nothing. My skull contains no room for your petty squabbles." Eddie paused. Hm. That was fair. It still upset him vaguely that Stanley didn't seem to care that much about him, so he spun in his heel and walked down the hall.

It was a quiet day, because it was almost always a quiet day. There were no fights to break up, no customers aggressive enough to warrant being called in for a warning. Even the joy he took in verbally degrading his coworkers was unattainable, as he was alone that day. Hell, no teenagers seemed interested in harassing him. It was a cold day in hell, then. Although quiet days were common, today went above and beyond, he thought.

Lunch was a fucking cup of pretzel bites from the goddamn pretzel star, because he hadn't packed a lunch. It tasted like butter and nothing else, because he'd forgotten to ask for salt. Why the fuck didn't they just assume salt? Who the hell asks for pretzel bites and doesn't want salt? He didn't mention this to the older woman, because he was a coward, and also an asshole who assumed that she wasn't fluent in English. He drank a diet pepsi.

The first screams came from the hallway adjacent to the Belk, where he sat in a bench eating his fucking butter bread nuggets. The first were screams of panic, then of pain. And Eddie was not a scream expert, but he could tell the difference. The sound was followed by the noise a human hand might make in a blender. It sounded amplified, distorted, crunching and sucking noises looping and overlapping. The hot topic was on the other end of the mall, so it wasn't music...

Eddie was not a brave man, really. He was the opposite. So what he did made no sense. Well, initially he sat perfectly still, rigid and unthinking in his fear, staring blankly at the off-white and shiny black tiles that covered the ground of the hall, grime-encrusted, cracked, and listened to the auditory equivalent of gore, and then he looked up at the older Asian woman working at the pretzel star. Her eyes were wide with fear and she suddenly bolted for the Belk.

Eddie did not bolt for the Belk.

He should have.

He was not a brave man, but neither was he a smart man, not particularly. But that neither explains nor justifies precisely how stupid he was in that moment. Running towards a sound like that. He crossed a corner and looked blankly at an older man walking around the corner.

The man was old, sticky, short. Bald, with a crown of thin white hair around his head, poking around his ears. His skin was a strange, almost red tint, like he was sunburned or very, very cold. When he saw Eddie, he stared blankly, and smiled lifelessly, with wide, watery black eyes.

"I'm a security guard," Eddie said. "I'm here to help." The man smiled wider, and then collapsed onto the ground with a wet slap. Judging by the fluid trickling from his body, Eddie realized that he was probably lacking, at least, the very outermost layer of his skin.

The blood was flowing like a small stream, down the hallway, towards where a thin curtain seemed to have been stretched in the middle, forming a wall. The hall, what he could see of it, was eerily empty.

He began to turn and walk, but then the body began to twitch and move. His back began to shift, and almost roll.

And then his spine left his body.

The curtain down the hallway began to stretch and tear, with a thick, leathery noise, and a strange scent emanated from the other side. Eddie asked himself what that scent might be, but he asked this with the fullness of knowledge of what it was. It felt best, to wonder. Easier.

the spine dragged the man's limp body forward, and the body reached out, clawing at him almost absentmindedly, crawling like a slug. Eddie squealed in a high voice, and

Pain, then, exploding through his leg as the body's teeth sank into his thigh, with a hoarse, harsh scream, thrashing, scream from him, not the body, pain so great that separating things felt impossible. Brain on fire.

He slammed the baton into the head of the body, and let out a quiet gasp as it's head exploded, bursting like a water balloon. He leapt out of the way, tightly clinging to himself and falling in the floor.

UP.

BOY. GET UP.

"Who? Who the fuck said that?"

The voice was booming, deep, paternal, and it had no apparent origin.

THE CONSTRUCT IS NOT YET DESTROYED, NUMBNUTS. GET UP. GET UP, COWARD. YOU HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE SPECIAL. STOP BEING A COWARD. FUCKING. STOP IT.

"Who the fuck are you? What is going on-?"

The voice sighed loudly, and Eddie shook his head rapidly. The voice was coming from inside his head, he could tell. It wasn't making any sense.

BOY. THIS DOES NOT MATTER. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU DESTROY THE CONSTRUCT. IT HAS A TASTE FOR YOU NOW. DO THIS. OR DIE. TAKE YOUR METAL PHALLUS...

"It's a FUCKING baton!!!"

TAKE YOUR METAL PHALLUS. USE IT TO DESTROY THE CONSTRUCT, JUST BE CERTAIN TO GET AS LITTLE OF IT ON OR IN YOU AS POSSIBLE. DO THIS.

Eddie looked down at the body. It had no head now, but it was still moving, somehow. The spine was splintered into three long strands, the center working to hold the body together, and the other two moving... The ribcage. Like a mouth. Jesus fucking Christ.

It staggered to its feet... well, not exactly, not ex-fucking-actly, but it forced itself into an upright position and began to crawl forward. Eddie shrieked, slamming his baton into the bone-jaw, watching in terror and vague, adrenalin-fueled excitement as the rib-teeth shattered. The baton was fucking... Glowing? Blue, it seemed blue. Less so on further examination, but his head was saying"blue," even if his eyes didn't agree.

The body's arm seemed to almost cannibalize itself for resources, disintegrating, reforming as a fleshy tendril, and whipping towards him.

Pain, but that was clearly a given.

FUCKING HOPELESS the voice said quietly, and Eddie felt an unreasonable urge to prove it wrong. He took his metal baton, which still has the strange blue glimmer, and raised it over his head, slamming it into the body over and over again, letting red mist spray, until the body collapsed, seemingly unable to hold itself together.

Eddie laughed. He slumped to the ground. "Fuck you, voice. I killed it. I killed the goddamn zombie."

YEAH, CONGRATULATIONS, BIG MAN. YOU DESTROYED A SINGLE CONSTRUCT. EXCELLENT. THE VERY GOD-DAMNED EXTREMITY OF AN OLD ONE WAS, INDEED, DAMAGED.

"Fuck you. Who are you, anyway?"

NEVER HALLUCINATED BEFORE? KIDDING. I AM NODENS. I AM AN ELDER GOD.

"Ah. Of course. Fucking answers, snappy."

NO. I HAVE EXPLAINED THINGS FAR TOO MANY TIMES TO GO OVER THE BASICS WITH ANOTHER LITTLE BITCH. THE ANSWERS YOU SEEK CAN ONLY COME FROM ANOTHER CHANNELER. NO, DON'T FUCKING ASK ME WHAT A CHANNELER IS. THERE IS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR KIND BEHIND THE SKIN CURTAIN

"Oh, that's what that is? That's disgusting." Eddy shuddered and walked towards the skin curtain. It seemed to be muffling all sound behind it. Because he wasn't thinking right, at all, (he was fairly certain that... Nodens, or whatever was influencing him) he walked up to the curtain and pressed his hand against the layer of skin.

His hand slipped right through. He let out a strangled cry and fell forward, through the skin, and onto the other side.

Holy fuck.

Holy, fuck, a goddamn sphere of body parts was in the center. Writhing, connecting, attaching and detaching. Eddie staggered back, and the skin didn't let him slip through that way. He let out a high, shallow noise, and looked at the walls of skin coating the... Well, the walls.

The sphere was so big, so detailed and variant in form, like a fucking viscera mandala, that even describing it felt like a waste of time. Too much to analyze, and his brain blocked out.

SEE, NOW THAT'S A RESPECTABLE CONSTRUCT, the voice said, it's tone low and almost bored. YOU TOOK THAT DOWN? THAT'D BE SOMETHING TO BRAG ABOUT. BUT I THINK SHE HAS IT COVERED.

Eddie looked up, and saw her. Well, he assumed it was a "her..." Her features were a little androgynous. She was pale, with long, brown hair tied in a loose ponytail, with a long face that reminded him of a bird, or less politely, a rodent. She was wearing a blue-colored suit, the top of which was far too big for her, the tie hanging loosely and the jacket billowing around her, and she was holding a long rifle.

And then things got a little insane: there was the floating head of a hairless cat beside her. A cat's head, clear as fucking day, floating in the air. It was fucking talking too. It's voice was high and shrieky, like nails on a damned chalkboard board and it was saying

THE ONE THING THAT IS TRUE OF ALL THAT DRAWS BREATH IS THAT IT CAN CEASE TO DO SO! ALL WITH BLOOD INSIDE IT CAN BLEED. ALL THAT LIVES CAN DIE! THE PURPOSE OF ALL THAT LIVES IS THUS: TO KILL OR DIE. ALL ELSE IS DISTRACTION!

"Yep," the woman in the suit muttered wearily. "Any new talking points?"

ONLY THIS: I LIKE YOU VERY MUCH. PLEASE DO NOT DIE YET.

The woman giggled, aiming her rifle at the meat sphere. "Aww, are we being sweet, Bastet? How unlike you." Having taken aim, she fired, and Eddie essentially gave up on his life ever making sense again.

The bullets broke open in mid air, like a corn kernel popping. The things bursting forth from the bullets seemed to be far, far too big for those bullets to contain.

They were cats, metal cats, capable of movement, apparently, despite their forms being uniform, and lacking in joints or anything like that.

"What the fuck?" Eddie whispered, and the voice laughed. THAT IMPRESSES YOU? HOLY SHIT, YOU BABY. SIMPLE FUCKING CONSTRUCT, MORON. SURE, VERY IMPRESSIVE IN FORM, BUT SIMPLE FUCKING THING IN FUNCTION. ESPECIALLY WITH THE ELDER GOD HELPING. Eddie blinked, twice. "But... how does the cat fit inside the...?" IT ABSORBS MINERALS IN THE AIR AROUND IT AND RECONFIGURES THE ATOMS- WAIT, NO, FUCK YOU, I JUST SAID I'M NOT EXPLAINING SHIT.

Eddie sighed and shook his head. The metal cat things were tearing into the meat orb now, and it appeared to be screaming, which was... Utterly terrifying. The woman(?) was smiling vaguely at the sight, and the cat head was grinning insanely. And then the meat sphere started crawling. It moved like a huge amoeba, pseudopodia and all, gliding on the floor. The metal cats yelped as mouths with teeth of bone formed, fangs tearing into them.

FUCK! MY PRECIOUS BABIES! AVENGE ME, SLAVE!

"Please stop calling me a slave..." the woman in the suit muttered quietly. "This is a consensual partnership."

The meat orb clearly hadn't focused it's efforts on creating a set of vocal chords also the screams were haphazard and raw. It was doing it's best to rebuild the parts it broke, meat slithering over. The purpose of the skin cocoon was apparent now.

The skin was growing, thickening. Hastily made limbs glided towards it, tearing off chunks and bringing it over towards the mass.

FASCINATING. LOOK BOY! A SIMPLE ORGANIC WARD, AND IT HAS AUTOMATIC, FAST GROWING REPLENISHMENT! WHY, ONE MUST ALMOST ADMIRE THE CREATURE, VILE THOUGH IT IS. AN OLD ONE IS WISE INDEED!

"No, one mustn't admire it, particularly if one has NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Eddie hissed angrily.

MY DEAR MAN. I DON'T GIVE A JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SHIT.

"You stole that, you fucking stole that joke from the internet!"

YOU CLEARLY HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DOING ANYTHING HELPFUL IN THIS SITUATION

"Yeah, I'm not an idiot-"

THUS, AS EVER, IT FALLS TO ME. KEEL OVER, BITCH.

Eddie fell to his knees, his grip on the cudgel loosening, and with his eyes and jaw slack, and open, he keeled over and lost consciousness.

Nodens had forgotten what flesh felt like, so initially he was hit by the crushing pressure of the violent flowing of blood in his body, smothered under the weight of meat, fat and muscle, piled on fragile and impermanent bone. He remembered to breathe, and some of the crushing weight lifted. He curled his lip. Breathing was such a miserable chore, god damn the evolutionary process for failing to make that reflexive.

Moving, too, was a chore. The weight of meat, of red flesh on flimsy bone. A precarious, tiring, awful chore. Arms, fingers, toes, legs... walking was supposed to be just like riding a bike, he thought. And then he realized, of course, that he could not ride a bike at all, and he shook his head fiercely and angrily.

He looked forward, clutching the large metal phallus that the boy had chosen to be his conduit. The Old one was hiding inside a large, and, he grudgingly admitted to himself, fairly impressive construct, with growth wards providing an endless supply of skin. He bared his teeth, grinning. The thrill of the chase!

Bastet glimpsed over towards him.

INTERLOPER she screamed, and her assistant/worshipper/lover/however they chose to define the relationship between God and Channeler looked forward too.

Nodens smiled "Hello, ancient enemy. The Old One is mine to slay, using this puppet. Step off, my dear BITCH."

ALL THAT LIVES IS MY DOMAIN, HUNTER!!!!

The woman in the suit cleared her throat. "Bastet, my crepuscular queen, the more flesh turned against this beast, the happier I am, in all honesty." Nodens snorted. "Your opinion means less than nothing, insect."

SHE'S MY FAVORITE INSECT, AND THUS SHE IS INFINITELY MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU!!!! YOU SHOULD SURRENDER TO THE GREAT DARKNESS NOW!!!!

"Do not make such insults so casually, my friend," Nodens snarled. "Remember your goddamn place." The woman in the suit rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

"if this shit turns into one of those elder god rap battles, im gonna be sooo pissed."

A FLYTING? NO, I HAVE DOUBT IN THE NECESSITY OF SUCH A THING.

"i do feel the need to point out that the flesh construct remains intact and the old one hidden from view."

Nodens bared his teeth. Yes, perhaps that was a more important concern than MILLENNIUM OLD BEEF with another Elder God. He grabbed the metallic phallus, and raising it high, ran forward. So much forward motion so early might have been a bad idea, but it felt the honorable thing to do.

He heard the bang-bang-bang of the suited priestess and her gun, and scoffed, guns were for cowards, rolling his eyes at the metal cat constructs joining the fray. He tore into the walls of meat with the metal phallus, glowing blue with unnatural light. The meat slipped apart wetly, with little effort. Piss-poor composition, not that it mattered, since the skin wards let it just grow the fuck back.

"Um... I think that we should focus on getting to the actual Old One and not waste time on the construct, because we could fight the construct for-frikkin-ever," the suit wearing priestess opined. Nodens gritted his teeth. The mortal was right, an ever embarrassing thing to admit. He brought the phallus down on a wall of flesh again, and set about tearing an entryway into it.

Hard work, fortunately the construct was not built for offensive purposes. Those minor constructs like the one the boy had felled filled that purpose. This one was a dumb animal, a literal living shield, built around the real threat. It ate, shat, and contained blood, and it did little else, as was it's design.

Metal cats were worming their way in now too, like, well, worms, burrowing into an apple. Eddie's body was giving in already. Nodens snorted. Channeler the boy may be, but he was still human flesh and bone. Weak. He was approaching the Old One now, a fraction of nothingness in a universe that otherwise, for all it's faults, existed. He could feel the sound of it's real silence, in his teeth and jawbone. The body he wore was shaking.

He tried to ignore the way it moved and looked. The way his brain struggled in vain to recognize anything in the pure nothingness ahead of him, and the way his brain filled that empty space with a hundred thousand swirling nightmare visions, none of them real but all of them preferable to the tableau of incomprehensible nonexistence ahead of him. Thank god it was a small one, not capable of thought, not capable of seeing him. His body was reacting in utter terror and though a Channeler was something stronger than a human, he knew that the body would fail in time. Its divinity granted it about five minutes of prolonged exposure of this sort.

This was hard, one of the hardest possible things to do. Nodens allowed about half of his spirit to slip from Eddie's body, so he could work in tandem as God and Priest. Every God could do something that looked like it, but actual creation was impossibly draining. Blood flowed from Eddie's nose, mouth, ears, and eyes, but he wasn't going to die, anyway, and this was what Channelers were for. Batteries.

It wasn't very much. Just a couple of hydrogen molecules in the middle of the Old One, where nothing--literally, truly nothing--had existed before. The Old One was forced for the first time to acknowledge itself, to exist, and where it had not existed before, there was now a patch of air, mingling molecules and gasses.

Nodens let out a loud, agonized cry as he was torn back into the dreamlands, and Eddie crumpled to the floor like a fallen house of cards. And the construct around him collapsed.

WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO BURN THIS ENTIRE MALL DOWN

"I know that, Bastet."

IT'S LIKE A FUCKING BOSCH PAINTING IN THERE. AND YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN THE SECURITY GUARD, HE SEEMS LIKE A CUNT. SHOULD HAVE LET ME EAT HIM WHEN I OFFERED.

"You think everyone is bad, B."

IF HE'S MEAN TO YOU, I'LL EAT HIM

"I told you to stop babying me about the trans thing. I'm a grown ass woman-"

NOT ABOUT THAT. IF ANYONE IS MEAN TO YOU FOR ANY REASON I'LL FUCKING CUT THEM. YOU'RE NICE AND COOL.

"I love you too, B."

...

Quiet grumbling followed, and Eddie wondered why his head hurt so goddamn much, and where he was. Dark, cramped, and... Judging by the sounds... And the feeling of motion... Was... Was he in the trunk of a car? He sniffed heavily. He smelled like shit and raw meat. This was, he realized, probably because of all of the blood he was soaked in. He let out a high, shrill scream.

"Shit. I think he's broken."

WELL, HARD AS IT IS TO SAY, I THINK HE'S LOST ALL USE TO US. YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HIM. I'LL MAKE THE SACRIFICE AND EAT HIM.

"Yeah, well, that's real good of you, B."

MY KINDNESS KNOWS NO BOUNDS.

"Don't you remember when I first realized I was a Channeler? I was confused, scared, panicked.... You helped me, and look where we are now!"

I HELPED YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE HOT, THAT'S LITERALLY IT. HE LOOKS LIKE SHIT.

Eddie took the time and energy to be offended, despite his current state. The car hit a pothole and he almost vomited.

TAKE SOME ADVICE, L. THIS GUY IS AN ASSHOLE. I THINK HE HAS PISSED HIMSELF BACK THERE. HE'S A DUMBASS. DON'T TRAIN HIM. LET ME EAT HIM INSTEAD. I'LL BROIL HIM, CUT HIM UP, SHIT, WE CAN SHARE! I'LL GIVE YOU THE VERY BEST PIECES.

"I still don't eat people. Nor will I, ever. And I'm not training this guy anyway. Our mutual friend K will probably help him out."

OOH, K IS A FUCKING ASSHOLE. GOOD. THIS'LL BE REALLY FUNNY. MAYBE THEY'LL FUCKING KILL HIM AND LET ME EAT H-

"Are you really that fucking hungry, B? So fucking hungry that eating people is the sole thing you can think of?"

I CAN THINK OF A FEW THINGS I'D LIKE TO EAT, YEAH.

The suited woman laughed, affectionately.

"You're fucking disgusting."

The two then settled into a supremely comfortable silence. Well, it was comfortable for them. The blood-drenched man huddled in the trunk of the car, shuddering from his cold wetness, jolted by every bump of the car, too scared to speak or even breathe too loud, was perhaps a little less comfortable in comparison. He closed his eyes tight and waited to wake up from this nightmare.

The trunk opened, and Eddie rolled out onto the concrete driveway, sobbing and stucky with blood. From what, he couldn't even fucking remember. The woman in the suit looked down at him with a sympathetic half-smile. He got a better look at her. She was skinny and pale, with facial features reminiscent of a rodent. He couldn't decide if she was pretty or not, but he was leaning towards not. She had big eyes and thin lips slick with black lipstick, and something wrong with her facial expression. She also had an adams apple, which he felt a tiny bit bad about noticing. She was leaning down to look at him.

"Hey," she said, and her voice was soft. "You're scared, huh? Well, it's okay, okay? My friend Kai is a Channeler, like you are, and they're going to help you learn how this works. Bastet and I are going to go burn down the mall, and then I'll come back around and check on you, okay?"

Kai... where the hell had he heard that name? He couldn't think of it. The woman in the suit was helping him walk to the door now, and she rang the doorbell.

The door opened.

"Fuck my life," Eddie whispered.

He remembered where he knew the name Kai from now. The sole occupant of the house, with their pale skin, and blue hair, and pimply fucking rat face, smiled broadly. "Hi, Luci. Hey Ed."

"Don't fucking call me Ed."

"Nice to see you brought your special metal dildo, Ed. Come on in."

#my writing :3 #original story #june writes #elder godposting #elder gods #lovecraft #queer #authors #long post #dumbassery #body horrow cw #fantasy #horror #ocs #oc writing #channelers series

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