#he taxidermied those rats himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

breadnbutterplz · 8 months

Text

Mandela Infirmary Au Chapter 2: A Stomach Full Of Cotton

Mark arrives at the Infirmary just like Cesar asked him too.

Mark gets out of the car with some baskets and a get well soon card for Cesar's mother.

He is always the kind one.

As he walks into the hospital, it was colorful with neon lights.

But it was also...dark?

Maybe it was closed or something...

"Cesar! Cesar! I'm here!" Mark calls out of his dear friend.

Hmmm...that's strange.

Maybe he went to the bathroom? Mark decides to check there.

He checks the bathroom. Nothing.

He checks the rooms. Nothing

He looks everywhere. Nothing.

What's going on?

Suddenly he spots someone who looks like Cesar. Same prom outfit, same hair, but a different height...

Mark decides to ignore that and calls out to him.

"Hey, Cesar! I was looking for you everywhere!" Mark exclaims happily.

No response.

"Uh...Ces? You okay?"

Still no response.

Suddenly. 'Cesar's' head snaps his head 360 to look at him.

"𝒪𝐻𝐻𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀! 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒮𝐸𝐸 𝑀𝐸...."

Mark takes a step back. This wasn't Cesar...It was an alternate! Mark pulls out his gun and aims it at him.

"S-Stay back! STAY BACK!"

"𝒜𝓌𝓌𝓌𝓌𝓌, 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀! 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃? 𝐼'𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹! 𝑅𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯?"

Just before Mark could say anything, Alt Cesar grabs him by the shoulders and tries to attack him.

Mark starts to push him off so many times.

"Stop! GET OFF OF ME!!"

Mark struggles to push him off as they both fall down a flight of stairs. The gun was 6ft away from them both.

Mark kicks Alt Cesar off, grabs the gun and bolts to the exit.

He struggles to open it but it wouldn't budge. He needs to survive. He needs to hide.

He locks himself in one of the storage rooms and prays that he won't be found.

Spoiler alert, it's been 3 days. Mark survives on cotton and rats and tries desperately to call the cops but they won't answer. Alt Cesar was puppy gaurding the storage room.

Day 3: His final day.

At night. Mark was quietly sobbing as Alt Cesar taunts him

"𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓀𝓀𝓀𝓀....𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃....𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊..." Alt Cesar taunts and taunts as Mark cries softly.

Just then, Mark spots his gun and decides to finally do one thing.

He can't do this anymore.

He just can't.

As Mark grabs his gun, Alt Cesar bangs on the door.

*BANG!* *BANG!* *BANG!*

"𝐿𝐸𝒯. 𝑀𝐸. 𝐼𝒩. 𝑀𝒜𝑅𝒦."

Mark opens the door coming face to face with the alternate. Alt Cesar laughs. And he laughs at him. It grows louder. Louder. Louder.

Mark can't take it anymore.

He points the gun at himself.

"YOU (CENSORED) B*STARD!"

*BANG!*

He falls to the ground.

MARK falls to the ground.

He's dead.

"𝒪𝒽, 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀! 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊! 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀?" Alt Cesar says as he picks the boy up and brings him to the operating table.

"𝒟𝒪𝒩'𝒯 𝒲𝒪𝑅𝑅𝒴...𝐼'𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝒜𝒦𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝐿𝐸 𝒜𝒢𝒜𝐼𝒩..." Alt Cesar begins to do taxidermy on him.

He replaces his organs with cotton and stitches Mark gunshot wound with beautiful bloody Mayapple Flowers.

Those flowers were Mark's favorite.

Once when he was finished, he carries the poor boy to the 'Lovely Body Room', displays him like a mannequin and closes the door.

Just then a voice calls out. It sounds distorted but soothing.

"𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤. 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏-"

Mark gasps for air and finds himself in the body room. He finds a mirror and is horrified by his existence. He starts to softly cry again.

"Don't worry, Kiddo. It's not that bad!" a voice says.

Mark quickly turns around and finds a tall pale man with a black hoodie which had stickers and pins. The man had the same soothing voice.

"It's okay! I won't hurt you, Mark."

"W-WHO ARE YOU!?" Mark yells.

The man was stunned how he didn't remember him and then chuckles.

"Ah, I forgot! Its been about 13 years hasn't it? Welllll....My name is Intruder AKA Six. I'm the one that you drew back in elementary. I think your story was called 'The Scary Night.' was it not?" Mark's eyes widened.

"H-How are you here...? W-Why do I look like this...?" Mark says.

"I can't answer the first one but I will on the second! Alt Cesar did taxidermy on you and now you're not really a normal human!"

"..What?..."

"I won't hurt my old friend though!"

"I'll be guiding you with your new life!"

#Mandela Infirmary Au #the mandela catalogue #tmc #mandela catalogue #mark heathcliff #cesar torres #tmc intruder #tmc au

5 notes · View notes

notfoundfootage · 2 years

Text

Living with Brahms Heelshire

My view on what's like to live with wall guy.

DO NOT REPOST/PLAGIARIZE instead you can reblog to make the post reach new readers.

Minors don't interact.

A/N: General Brahms warnings (pranks, he's a little shit, mentions of tantrums), taxidermy, mention of dead animals and bugs, there's wifi and the nanny (you) has a notebook, gender neutral reader. Mentions of sex toys and underwear.

Sharing tea in the garden during free time, watching the soft wind blow the trees growing tall in the estate's woods. He's getting out more and more, he still doesn't go back to the woods, but will ask you to bring berries to him if you find any.

Man's glued to your hip, and tries a little to respect your personal space. But expect hugs, lingering touches, him grabbing you and taking to any big enough place just because he decided he wants cuddles. Kisses in your face, neck, hands, head, everywhere you allow him.

The mask stays on most of the time, but he will take it off more and more as time progresses. But he's still a bit insecure and will put it back on his worse days, assure him it's okay and that you still love him.

Will get pouty if you don't kiss or hug him enough.

I hc that he actually likes coocking. Please praise him about his food, offer your criticism and be gentle around his fears. He wants to please you and care for you as much as you care for him.

He asks you to bring any dead animals in the woods for his taxidermy hobbie. You already clean the rat traps everyday, so touching some more dead animals wouldn't be too nasty, would it?

He is awkward and shy, and will fumble to ask you to do the simplest things with him. But he also stares deeply into you as you two try to do any shared activity. If you get uncomfortable, well, too bad, staring deep into your soul as you do the dishes is his main love language.

When you need to dust the higher shelves, he'll hold the ladder you're climbing on and stare at your ass with zero shame. Bonus points if you wear something skimpy.

I HC he made the doll as a gift for his assholes lonely parents and as a way to interact with the world outside the walls. He would make a porcelain doll for you too, and keep them together, with magnets inside their little hands so they hold hands whenever they're close.

He gets to play violin and piano now, and he learns new music excep, so expect him to play in the music room almost weekly. Is really curious about theremins and will ask for one of those. He's much happier and less prone to tantrums now that he has free acess to music.

Another surprising interest he takes on is cooking. It's a spoken promise that he'll make all the food you two need if you take care of the other chores. He'll still help with laundry and do the dishes himself, but it's an agreement you two have now.

He cried the first time he got to eat fresh food with you in the dining room. Brahms remembers it daily: Malcolm brought in a lot of potatoes and you baked a cottage pie for dinner, he mustered all his courage to get out of the walls and move the doll to an armchair, sitting in front of you. But you noticed he was shaking as his hands went to remove the mask, and his eyes were glossy, so you told him it was okay if he wanted to take the plate to his room, you wouldn't be mad.

Now, Brahms may dwell in the walls and may be covered in a fine layer of dust, but this man is clean, fight me if you disagree. And he likes fancy baths with salts and fancy oils too, he smells divine, fresh and a little musky. Pine and lavender are his favourites.

Scrub his hair while he's in the bath and he'll let the loudest whine ever.

I said it once, I'll say it again. Don't let this guy near your credit card. He willl buy the most useless things and luxury items you definely cannot afford.

Somethings he bought in the last three months: A kalimba, bathbombs, fancy ball jointed dolls, a custom shorts that has "nasty" written on the butt, books, some prank packages on "ruin days" website (I'll talk about those later, it's his favourite website), matching pair of crocs for you two, sex toys, art supplies and a subscription for japanese candy mistery boxes.

Talking pranks, he really likes them. Every month theres is april fools. Except you never know when it is or what he's gonna do.

Brahms once put a bunch of dead bugs in your shoes, ordered a box of gummy dicks in bulk, another month it was a spring loaded glitter bomb, he once put plastic wrap between an archway and caused a fake tantrum so you ran right into it, made your curry extra spicy that one time, pushed your head in your birthday cake, put post it papers all over the dining room, filled your bedroom with pink baloons in valentine's day, painted your soap bar with clear polish, and many many more.

Actually, he's not a good actor and you're not sure how he manages to make you trust him enough to be unsuspecting on his antics. He's always keeping a grin from forming in his face whenever you are about to fall in his pranks.

He likes you, but he's kinda used to being alone, so some days you won't see him at all but he never misses the goodnight kisses and will definely sneak in your bed just because he wants his kiss.

Please praise him. Yes he's a spoiled brat, but he goes all mushy when you compliment him or something he did. Hopefully will get better at accepting criticism and at saying sorry when he wrongs you.

Won't stop stealing your stuff, but will give it back after a while. When you tell him he could just ask for it, he goes quiet and then asks "... Can I have that though?" Pointing at whatever set his interest now. Steals your notebook, your underwear, wears your clothes if you have similar bodies, robs you of your snacks too, your body lotion if you use any, it's free real estate.

Goes back to the walls whenever Malcolm's brings the deliveries. And will be whiny if you talk a little too much with him. He's insecure okay? Give this man some kisses and assurance and he'll be happy again in no time.

You manage to get a notebook and wifi in the house. He hates it at first, goind all "eeew modern technology", but will grab the notebook to watch Corpse Bride and Crimson Peak for the eleventh time in the month.

Bramshy loves to give you handmade items. From fur acessories to paintings and little wood sculptures, he has it all. He's always making something with those pretty hands of his and gives you everything he makes thinking of you.

Makes victorian jewlery for you. Paints a lover's eye in a silver necklace with his baby blue eye on it, and makes for himself another with your eye on it, wich he wears daily.

He still trow tantrums, even though they got smaller and lesser with time, he won't get to the level of violence we see in the movie if he doesn't feel that he's threatned or you are in danger. So the best way to bring the emotions to a manageable state again is to be patient, assure him that his emotions are valid and wait until he's a bit calmer.

Then you can talk about his feelings, your feelings and reason with him. You need to be straight to the point and don't beat around the bush, that's not how he works. Offer a glass of water then physical comfort. Even if he's mad at you, he'll want to hold your hand.

Convince to get him a therapist if you can.

#found writes #brahms heelshire hc #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016

76 notes · View notes

persephone-s-moon · 3 years

Note

What are the rat boys favorite toys?

David: David I feel like would be into whatever he can get his grubby little hands on. His favorite thing is to be a nuisance, so messing around with stolen pencils, erasers, toothpaste caps, safety pins, and even lone socks is very common. Anything becomes a toy once he finds it unattended

Marko: I think Marko would just play around with straight up trash. That discarded candy wrapper? His now. That bowl of cherry pits left by the sink? Now he has footballs. Which works perfectly for Michael since he's flat broke

Paul: Paul would absolutely have a thing for cat toys. Especially the ones with bells on them or the ones that make crinkly noises. Just shaking them around the house until Michael or Sam have to take it away from him. Then he starts messing with the teeth in grandpa's taxidermy room

Dwayne: Dwayne wouldn't be too picky when it comes to toys. He'd be more into running around and climbing on things, which leads to Sam stacking weird objects around the house (including the creepy taxidermy grandpa gives him). He has, more than once, just gotten himself stuck in places he should Not be, like on top of the stereo.

But overall, I think the one toy they can all agree on is Barbies. They got their first Barbie set on the first Christmas they spent with the Emerson's and they fell in love.

Also, they would DEFINATELY love taking turns driving each other around in those little remote control cars (which did NOT exist in the 80s but bear with me, the image was cute)

236 notes · View notes

mixelation · 3 years

Note

Akatsuki, but ranked by the jobs they'd have if they weren't ninja, in order of how much you would like those jobs.

Job I want most to job I want least:

1. Itachi - He's just a rich kid. He does not need to work. He is simply born into money. Ideal job.

2. Orochimaru - Orochimaru doesn't always go in my rankings, but I think his job is that he was a big-shot biomedical researcher but then got caught making an impressive number of ethics violations, somehow didn't go to prison but basically can't do research anymore, and now he runs a science museum out of a creepy old mansion. The floors creek. All the rooms are a little bit musty and there are odd cold spots and not enough lighting. There are rooms dedicated to old medical samples floating in jars and rare taxidermied animals. You can look at some very old science equipment behind glass, and he has some replicas out for your to play with, and there's one room that's just microscopes and slides of various things you can look at under them. Despite being creepy, the museum does do child-friendly programming, and you can sign your ten year old up to go play with rats in a maze and see what happens when you spray chemicals on ants. Like I'm not saying I would do unethical research, but I AM saying I would sign up to be a mysterious museum owner in a spooky and potentially hunted mansion in like a second.

3. Sasori - Sasori lists "artist" as his job and he does make money from it (I know for a fact there's an audience for art made from dead things), but supplies are expensive and he has a meat-space shop that sells both his art and just general taxidermy services. He finds the non-artistic part of this slightly demeaning, but he does occasionally have people bring in interesting things they want preserved. Sasori would support and enable you wanting to preserve your amputated toe, for example. He definitely taxidermied several very weird things for Orochimaru's museum without question. Ranked here because I think, assuming I also got the requisite skills, this would be a bit fun and also intellectually rewarding.

4. Kisame - Kisame definitely has a job involving The Ocean, and I kind of like the idea of him diving to collect some sort of seafood? But also I'm not sure how much this is practiced, and I'm going to say he makes most of his money driving tourists around on a boat. He does like "shark tours" or some shit and will dump chum in the water to attract them. He'll also point out cool things in the bay, drive you around to look for dolphins and birds, and can be convinced to take you somewhere good for fishing. I think I would love the part of this that's "ramble about marine life to strangers for ninety minutes," but I don't like the idea of having to maintain a boat or that costumers have definitely gotten seasick and vomited on the boat.

5. Deidara - Deidara is also "an artist" but he's less established than Sasori so his day job is working in a bakery/coffeeshop. Why? Because in high school I knew a guy that worked at Panera and he'd be like "oh yeah, the bagel fires--" and I told someone else who worked at Panera that I heard they had ongoing problems with bagel catching fire and they were like what the hell are you talking about. So I think Deidara makes art and then goes into work at this coffeeshop that also sells pastries and while he's on his phone trying to promote his online store, sometimes things... catch fire? Oh, it's just a him problem? Ranked because while the idea of living off of art does seem fulfilling to me, if I have to do customer service for my main income, I want it to involve summoning sharks.

6. Zetsu - Zetsu sells fruit off the back of a truck. He claims he grew them himself. Sometimes he's also selling bags or nuts or baby plants. A good, simple life.... until you find out he also stalks celebrities and sells candid photos of them. Hmm. Gross.

7. Hidan - Hidan is clearly a cult leader. He doesn't have a ton of followers, but the ones he does have pay for his lifestyle of driving around the country and spreading the word of Jashin. He has some (borderline nonsensical) ebooks you can buy on the topic, and some really wild youtube videos on an accounted managed by some PR person who's not getting paid but wants Jashin's approval. They're in the process of making an online course. Hidan essentially just does whatever the fuck her wants, and then his followers scramble around to make it into something profitable. Honestly traveling around, being on my bullshit, and having other people turn that into money seems like a cushy lifestyle I'd be okay with, but I have to rank it low for the Moral Toll of creating and leading a cult.

8. Pein and Konan - Pein and Konan are ranked together because they work together. They co-found some sort of non-profit which gets a lot of bad press because, while their ultimate goals are good, they do... a lot of extreme stuff to get their name out there and collect donations. This includes some morally questionable harassment of online personalities, celebrities, and politicians, and also there are weird rumors about them destroying property/outright violence? Seems shady. The on-paper job of a nonprofit dedicated to help disenfranchised people (or whatever they're doing) seems cool, but I'm ranking this low due to.... not wanting to be involved in crime. I'd rather accidentally start bagel fires, even if it's less fulfilling.

9. Kakuzu - At first I was going to make Kakuzu a stockbroker or something, but then I googled "most evil job related to money" and google went what the hell are you talking about and gave me a bunch of lists of high-paying jobs that are dangerous or just gross. And do you know what? I'm going to say Kakuzu is a crime scene cleaner. He is not bothered by the work itself, despite being labor-heavy and gross and having a high emotional toll on a lot of people. It pays pretty well. He's been looking into selling deer urine as a side gig, which is also apparently a job. I don't want to do any of these things. I would be better at spending the money made from these endeavors than Kakuzu, but also I'm too tired to have a gross and emotionally upsetting day job AND a gross side hustle. No thanks.

#akatsuki ranked #akatsuki #uchiha itachi #orochimaru #sasori #kisame #deidara #zetsu #hidan #pein #konan #kakuzu

155 notes · View notes

subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Four

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships

tumblr edits out my italics when i copy/paste, and its midnight on a school night, so. italics arent in the tumblr version of this chapter cuz im not manually replacing them rn :P

Warnings: Taxidermy, swearing, fights (verbally, not physically), mentions of death, sexual innuedo (thanks remus), sympathetic everyone but there is Conflict.

Word Count: 2,645

Patton had learned, in his many years of emotion-filled life, that every person interacted with others uniquely. An obvious thing to learn, maybe, but in his younger years he felt like it really wasn’t made clear enough.

When it finally hit Patton that other people didn’t feel things in just the same way he did, it came with slow disbelief. Shocked was he to learn that not only were people so vastly different inside, but that he might’ve been one of the most different of all- even with the other sides. After all, each of them had seemed to understand all their differences like it was second nature, while Patton tried to come to terms with the information.

And come to terms with it he had, throughout Thomas’ late teens to early twenties. It was just Patton’s nature to try and learn about his friends, and that didn’t change when the task got harder. If anything, he’d become furiously determined to know how to care for all his family better than anyone, even if it more than once sent him spiralling in thought.

Logan, for example, was at his best when he was around other people; calmly talking, debating, doing work in the same space, anything that amounted to time spent together. So, even when Patton didn’t know what he was going on about, he did his best to at least be someone Logan could talk at. Which must’ve have worked somehow, because Patton couldn’t even count the times anymore he’d realized it had been hours after starting a conversation with his best friend, the both of them grinning and talking and enjoying each other’s company. Color Logan understood!

Roman, an even easier case to crack, didn’t really care what kind of attention he got- as long as it was positive. Which Patton was of course happy to provide! Though Roman became easily suspicious of any signs of friendship, Patton liked to think he’d weaseled his way into being a close companion, if the amount of times Roman dragged him off on adventures was any indication. Roman, too, was a check!

Virgil had been harder to figure out; not enough support and he got nervous, too much and he’d get overwhelmed. Fine balances did not come easily to Patton, so there had been more than a little trial and error. He’d eventually landed on treating him not unlike a wild cat: to just exist in the same space and let Virgil do whatever he wanted in his own time (a method that had found resounding success!). Virgil, much as he wanted to seem mysterious, was also marked off the list of understanding.

Janus was deceptively easy to work out. He just needed someone to challenge him, all in good sport, to be friendly and frustrating at the same time. Call it environmental enrichment, but with people! Patton was more than happy to be one of those people, pushing and pulling in equal parts banter and genuine conversation. Janus, surprisingly, was clear as well.

Patton wondered if it was weird to think about it so much. He thought about all of them, and he wondered if they took time to decode him, too. Or maybe they just knew already- they saw the heart on his sleeve (or chest, as it were) and had him all figured out right then.

He liked to believe they did spend time thinking about it, though. It was nice to think he wasn’t the only one that cared enough to take the time, and he knew that they cared about him already! Even if they didn’t say it as much as he did, even if they showed it all differently, and even if sometimes it felt like they didn’t understand him…

They still cared. The hoodie around his shoulders said so. The card framed on his wall said so. The stray dog dander on his clothes said so. So long as he had that, who needed the luxury of understanding?

Patton shook his head, no, he wasn’t worrying about all them right now. Right now, there was someone else to worry about.

Remus. Remus, who always chatted on and on, but sometimes went dead quiet for no reason at all; whose expression never seemed to match his words, who laughed when he was happy and when he was angry, who yelled when he was bored and when he was overwhelmed. Remus, who threw himself around a corner for a cheap jumpscare every five minutes, limbs broken and wrapped in ragged, punk-style clothes. Who would also drape himself all the way across Patton gently and calmly, wearing something baggy and impossibly soft (but still neon as ever), talking and talking and acting like it was all perfectly normal. Remus, who Patton wasn’t even sure was officially his friend yet.

Patton wanted him to be. But there was still… something in the way. Some kind of frustrating, tense, unknowable barrier that left him on edge around the trait. If Remus could just tell him something, anything, or give him any hints at all about what Patton was supposed to make of him, then it wouldn’t be so downright impossible. But he was inscrutable, an open book written in a language Patton didn’t know.

Whenever Remus walked into the room, it was almost like nothing had even changed since his acceptance.

Speaking of-

Patton barely had time to dodge out of the way as Remus leapt onto the couch, landing in a sprawl and taking up as much space as possible. He looked out of breath, so he’d probably booked it down the hallway and stairs, too. Just as probable was him having no reason for doing so at all.

“Hello,” Patton said.

Remus, from his laid down position, arched his neck up until he was peering upside-down at Morality. He had a reserved look in his eyes, but it was obvious he was fighting not to grin.

“Guess what I did.”

Patton paused. There were… a lot of ways that could go. Most of them weird.

“Um-”

Remus made a disturbingly accurate buzzer noise, exclaiming, “Took too long!”. He flipped over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his palms, his legs draped over the arm of the couch, and rocked back and forth excitedly. “I made you something!”

The worry slipped out of Patton’s mind, replaced by curiosity. He hummed, smiling, and asked:

“Like a gift?”

Remus beamed.

“Something like that!”

As Patton laughed by response, he ran his thumb compulsively over his bead bracelet (that he hadn’t taken off even once since getting, of course).

“That’s so sweet!” he chirped, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The Duke puffed out a breath, ruffling the white section of his hair. He rolled his eyes and shifted around, pushing up until he sat upright.

“Yeah, I know. Haven’t we done this dance before, Morey?”

“Okay, okay, I know,” Patton shrugged, his expression turning sheepish, “What is it, then?”

Remus’ grin widened in that almost impossibly way of his, and something about the glint of his teeth was distinctly threatening. It probably wasn’t intentional, but Patton could never really tell, when his claws tapped impatiently against his leg and something mischievous wormed into his expression.

“Well, you have to close your eyes, first!” Remus clapped his hands together, and there that glint seemed to get brighter.

“Oh, uh-”

“It’s not gonna be my dick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Patton yelped, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Well I wasn’t worried before you said that!”

Remus shrieked with laughter. Patton didn’t move his hands from his cheeks, a flush of discomfort starting at his ears and pricking his skin.

“You’re hilarious, but no- not this time, at least,” -Remus winked- “But just close your eyes, okay?”

Patton took a couple deep breaths, glancing up to give Remus his best approximation of a stern glare. He then let his hands drop to his lap, palms up, and squeezed his eyes shut.

There was a soft whoosh, and something small was dropped into Patton’s waiting hands. He ran the pad of his thumb over its surface, tracing something like fur. Soft, short fur, but when he pressed it was far too stiff to be a plush animal.

“Remus,” Patton felt along the object with both hands, jolting when he felt something scaly at the end, “What-”

“You can look now!”

Patton did as told, staring down at his lap.

There laid a rat.

A dead one, to be precise. A dead, taxidermized rat, posed up on its hind legs like some goofy little cartoon character. It’s eyes were impersonal glass orbs, but its skin was perfectly, horribly real.

Patton looked up, his eyes wide with disgust, to see unfiltered excitement shining on Remus’ face.

“I made it myself!” His pride echoed in the words, that grin stretching his lips looking all the more unnatural.

It was then that Patton’s body caught up with his brain, and he realized what exactly he was holding. He dropped it- all but threw it, actually- kicked it and scrambled back and anything to just get away.

The gift fell to the floor with a dull thump, toppling under the coffee table and out of sight. Patton pressed his hand against his mouth, the other one tightly fisted in his lap. He felt sick- sick enough that his brain was leagues away from rationality. Because he’d really touched- held- that corpse, that thing that used to be a cute little critter, what was now a homemade trinket of horror.

He turned his attention back to Remus, and a million thoughts and feelings rushed him. Betrayal, horror, fear- and weirdest of all was surprise.

Remus’ smile twitched, and he tipped his head from side to side.

“You dropped it,” he pointed out, “I thought you liked rats?”

The noise Patton made was something between a gasp and a cry.

“I like alive ones!” He exclaimed, pushing himself back until there was a good cushion’s distance between himself and Remus.

Remus’ smile dipped lower.

“Well, this way you don’t have to take care of it! It’s all of the cute with none of the trouble!”

“You think this is cute?!”

He couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything- he hadn’t gotten through to Remus even a little? It was all still a game for him to terrorize Patton? To shove dead things into his lap and laugh about it?

But Remus wasn’t laughing, strangely. In fact, he was very still.

“You don’t like it?”

In hindsight, Patton would look back on what he said with remorse so strong it gave him headaches. He had scores of memories like that, of course, but this one’s sting would never fade, not even long after they’d moved on from it. But in that moment of fear, of revile, he could not think about anything else but the feeling of being tricked by his almost-friend laying heavy in his stomach.

“Like it? Is this- are you joking? Remus, you made me touch a dead animal! I thought we were starting to be friends, but- oh my God, what is wrong with you?!”

Patton was sure he stopped breathing right after he said that, his voice choking out. In the silence that followed, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

Remus stood up, and everything about the way he moved showed a woundedness that didn’t suit him. He looked at Patton with an awful intensity, his ruby-red eyes practically glowing. There was nothing vulnerable about him when he was hurt, nothing at all like how Patton would respond to something like an argument. There was only anger and tension.

He didn’t smile, but his voice stayed pitchy. Gleeful.

“Everything,” Remus hissed, “I thought you’d catch on before now, but.”

Remus spun on his heel, and the floor beneath him bubbled with oil and acid and plague as he sank into the ground and out of the living room. The carpet shriveled, sick-green, in his wake.

That was when the understanding hit him. A lot like a train.

“Oh, no,” whispered Patton, “Oh, no.”

Patton struggled to his feet, as if on autopilot. Was he going to go after Remus? No, no, that definitely wouldn’t go over well. He was probably halfway into the Imagination by then, anyway, ready to take his anger out on his creations and not do any talking at all.

Patton tore his eyes away from the spot where Remus had sunk out, stumbling over to the coffee table instead. He crouched, reached his hand under it, and let his fingers touch the fur of his discarded present. He grabbed it, looked down at it. The wave of nausea when he saw the little rat was now less disgust, and much more regret.

He cradled the preserved creature in his hands with all the gentleness he could. There was a slip of thick, yellowish paper attached to it, that in all the upset had gone completely unnoticed. It was folded in half, tied with twine to the rat’s neck.

Patton looked into the rat’s shiny, empty eyes for far too long, watching his reflection be distorted by the spheres. He took a shuddering breath, then, and thumbed the edge of the paper, felt its grain, and flipped it open.

“This is Jenner. You can have him, because even if you’re a priss, if you can handle me you can handle having cool shit like this. Plus, you’re weirdly nice to me, so I guess I don’t mind being nicely weird to you.

-R (the funnier one <3)”

Patton read the note once. Twice. Three, four, maybe six times the words ran over each other in his head.

The paper slipped from his fingers. He held his rat in both hands and stared down its coffee-brown snout. Patton couldn’t help bringing the figurine to his chest and hugging it tightly, like it was the thing he’d hurt so badly, serving as surrogate. Its sharp fingers and tail poked through his shirt like needles, but he ignored it, holding the irrational hope that the inanimate object could forgive him somehow.

Jenner was creepy, that was probably intentional; his proportions and pose were so uncanny it couldn’t have been an accident. And it was so, so very Remus of a thing that Patton couldn’t stand to hate it. His shift in view was so sudden, and in some sad way he realized that the conflict had been the final piece he’d needed. What let that understanding crash into Patton’s mind, painting the picture of somebody layered.

The picture of Remus, who he was, had finally clicked into place- and at the exact worst time for it to do so.

Patton had fucked up. Massively.

He didn’t react how he thought he would when he realized it. He didn’t grow weary and exhausted, desperate to apologize and then collapse into unthinking sleep for days. Gone was the emptiness of making promises that he hoped he could hold true on, just wanting to have gotten it right the first time. No, Patton felt something burning under his skin, something itching him to take action because he’d learned from a mistake. He knew exactly what he’d done, and he was ready to do better right damn now.

Patton breathed in deep and exhaled sharp, because first…

He sunk out to his room, Jenner tucked into the crook of his elbow. He rose up at his bedside and shoved a handful of knickknacks off the nightstand. With enough space cleared, Patton set his rat down on the table and stood it up on his alarm clock, facing the bed. And then, as just a final touch, he smoothed back the fur of its head and gave it a peck on the forehead.

Now, he had some planning to do.

Chapter Five

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #platonic intruality #qpr intruality #patton #remus #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

26 notes · View notes

clownwritesfanfic · 5 years

Text

Look it’s my first original post wow. This was a topic discussed in a Discord server I’m in, Hello there if you are from that server. Also thanks if you helped when i got stuck. I decided to share it here because I had a bit of fun with it.

Slashers/Horror Characters and their hobbies (when they’re not on a killing spree)

Michael (1978) would probably read. I like to think they would at least give him some books to read in the asylum. If his victim has a collection of books and he’s got time he’ll browse through the selections and take some that intrigue him. His favourite genre would probably be mystery or psychological horror. Think SAW if it was a book. 2007 remake Michael, as we already know likes to make masks. I don’t really think that would stop after escaping.

Bubba would enjoy cooking and baking I think. He’d get all prettied up in his pretty woman mask and a nice non-bloodied apron and get to work. He doesn’t get to cook that often because Drayton thinks he’ll burn the house down because of one (1) incident where Bubba accidentally started an oil fire and in a panic threw water on it. (Do not do that btw it makes the fire so much worse) But when he does cook or bake it is delicious. He enjoys trying and making new recipes too.

Nubbins does taxidermy. But he makes really weird scenes with the dead animals. He once took the ballerina off an old wind up music box he found and placed a rat in a tutu doing a pirouette on it instead and gave it to Bubba. (Bubba adores that thing and it helps him sleep at night).He likes to take random parts from animals and make his own new creatures and try to convince Bubba they’re real. (Poor guy actually fell for one once and was scared of “flying rabid raccoons” for almost a whole month) He’s also partial to photography. Although he doesn’t have much of a muse and some of the pictures are blurry.

Chop Top likes to listen to music and has tried his hand at making it (much to Drayton’s dismay but he doesn’t have any rights so that doesn’t matter). He likes Rock music but his guilty pleasure would be smooth jazz.

Thomas would enjoy sewing. He once tried making a dress for Luda Mae but it wasn’t sized properly. The sleeves were much too small and the dress itself was too big it would be a hassle to do any house work in it. Luda Mae still praised Thomas for it and she still has it even if she can’t wear it and shes very proud of him for it.

Billy Loomis just watches different movies and makes up theories around them and likes to discuss plot holes. He’s like one of those Disney fans that makes up long and elaborate theories. (no disrespect to those people i actually enjoy them) Except it’s mostly on horror or thriller movies instead.

Stu has a little artistic side in him. He can’t do photo realistic drawings but he doodles quick little things of people, objects, animals, etc. When he;s bored in class he’ll look around and doodle his classmates on his notes. Some of his teachers have had to tell him to stop drawing on assignments and tests while others look forward to seeing his little doodles. He’s dabbled in sculpture quite a bit too. He’s not the best but he likes doing it. He once made Billy a little cup that Billy still has in his room holding some pencils and pens. He prefers drawing over painting and he’s got his own unique style.

Brahms will sit and play with his toys or colour in a colouring book. He actually prefers colouring over playing with toys. It’s a quick way to get him to calm down by having him sit at the dinner table and colour in a page with crayons (he’s not allowed pencil crayons, for obvious reasons) and a cup of tea. He also likes putting things back together (which might be the reason why he breaks his toys so often). He’s good at figuring out which piece fits with another much like a puzzle (however he doesn’t like real puzzles much). That’s why he was able to put his doll back together.

Jason also likes to read. Before he drowned he was at a higher reading level than the other kids. His mom made sure to teach him from an early age. She wanted a bright and respectable son. Sometimes he’ll go raid the cabins after slaughtering all the new campers to see if any have brought books. He enjoys poems and a bit of romance. If it has a scene his mother would frown upon her boy reading, he’ll skip it. He would also enjoy bird watching and observing all the other animals that roam the area.

Freddy...to be quite honest I have no idea what Freddy would do other than enter peoples dreams. He might like metalwork considering he made that little glove of his. If he’s not murdering people he’s probably just fucking with their dreams to entertain himself.

Chucky i’m also not sure of. I would like to say he’d play videos games but at the same time it doesn’t seem very fitting. (I’ve never watched a Chucky movie so I don’t really know his personality well enough)

Tiffany however would enjoy cooking and baking, like Bubba. I think she would prefer baking a little bit more than cooking.

Other than disturbing the sorority with his calls and *ahem* doing what he does best, Billy Lenz likes making collages. Either using material from old magazines or pictures of the girls. He likes getting a little surreal and cryptic with them. He likes putting animal heads on people. If you were to look at some of them you would have no clue as to what is happening or what it means. Billy knows. But he won’t tell you.

Cujo (as one of my fellow server mates said since i’ve never seen Cujo) likes to play fetch. What dog doesn’t? He’s also very partial to tug of war too. But don’t think you’ll win. That dog can dent a car door with his head.

1990 Pennywise would sit on his ass and read the newspaper or watch a shitty little broken TV on his shitty, dirty, springs-showing, torn up, recliner and smoke. He mostly smokes cigarettes but he doesn’t mind a good cigar if he can get his hands on one. Even though he sleeps for 27 years, he’ll still take naps on said recliner. Changing his form and chasing kids is hard work for an old being like him.

2017 Pennywise however is younger than 1990 Penny and so he has more energy. Pennywise genuinely likes clowns and what they do, that’s why the clown form is his favourite. (1990 Pennywise finds it easier to attract kids and make them feel safe if he looks like a clown). So he tries to make balloon animals. He’s not very good at it and they keep popping but he’s trying his best. And yes, he does get pretty angry if he keeps messing up.

Vincent as we already know, likes to make wax sculptures. He’s tried clay before but he doesn’t like how it feels dried on his hands. He’s much more comfortable with wax. Plus, if he ever runs out of wax he can re-melt a sculpture that is old or isn’t his favourite and start anew. Once clay dries it can’t go back to clay.

Bo likes to work on cars. The older the better. He prefers trucks but cars are just as good. He can tell whats wrong with it just by turning the engine on. He’s one of the best (and only) mechanics in town.

Lester likes to collect bones, mostly skulls, from roadkill he’s found. He waits for his little pile to rot then he’ll go in looking for skulls and bones.He’s got a whole wall of shelves filled with different animal skulls and skeletons. He also tried taxidermy once. Emphasis on tried. They came out looking terrible and messed up. He still likes doing it from time to time though.

Sweeney Todd actually enjoys being a barber. He finds it relaxing cutting peoples hair and making people look and feel good. He finds shaving men’s faces really satisfying and finds it quite humorous to see a gentleman with a beard come in and leave with a smooth baby face. They tend not to look so intimidating anymore.

149 notes · View notes

ghost-at-the-masquerade · 3 years

Text

Friends in Low Places

Part 2: Tourist Trap

Rating: PG

Count: 2666

Summary: A few days after the events of Tremors, the trio stops for a bite and tour of a roadside attraction. Or: Juliette makes an excellent choice, and Zeke makes a bad one.

-------------------

“Afraid she’s never gonna be the same after a shock to her suspension like that.” Zeke sighed, patting the side of the truck as he came around. Juliette and Roscoe sat on the tailgate, boxes and bags of their belongings pressed against their backs.

“Is it real bad?” Juliette said through a mouthful of cheese-steak, brows creased.

“Well, it’s not good, but we’ll get by.” He shrugged and leaned past her to grab his own sandwich.

Juliette swung her feet, marveling at the sweeping height of the pines around them. The smell of ceders heavy in the air. They were parked in a gravel lot with nothing but half-rotted blocks of wood to mark the spaces. Back around the bend, toward where they came in, was the little food stand where they had grabbed their lunch; a weather-stained building with just two windows to order from and three friendly, stocky folk tending it. In the other direction was their next destination.

A building made of logs almost black in color, with a steep roof and its name up in gaudy, blood-orange lettering; Twinkle Cove’s House of Terrors. ‘Terrors’ had a dripping effect that had clearly been added later. It might have been a home once, but the windows and doors had since been replaced with dark frosted glass. The inside of the door was plastered with fliers for other local businesses.

Once they were done eating, Zeke led the group to join just one other small party in the lobby, ditching their trash in the can outside. A gust from the AC swept over them at the threshold, making way for the faint smell of dust and taxidermy. Lights over each display cast heavy shadows to hide the seams on the tackier fakes. Floor vents rattled in the corners.

Zeke removed his sunglasses and let them hang from his shirt collar, grinning all the while. Usually he tried not to make comments about Juliette’s stops, not wanting to influence her choices, but he loved this hokey shit and could make no secret of it.

The counter to their left was manned by a spindly fellow who reminded Zeke of a harvestman; those tiny, long-legged spiders. Dressed in a clean black suit and cloak, gloves and bowtie a rich sanguine, topped off with too-big silver cufflinks and a swirl in his hair. He acknowledged them with a nod and a flash of pearly-whites.

The three of them split across the room. Juliette went for the counter, its glass case holding an array of trinkets. Gems inset in gargoyle claws, decently realistic rats, wands and supposedly cursed objects.

Zeke himself made a round of the room, looking over the displays that you got for free. A passable piece of taxidermy claiming to be a were-badger, crafted, as far as he could tell, from a honey badger and a red fox. A tuft of brown hair that almost looked burnt, kept behind glass; the plaque described it as a trophy from an encounter with the local woodland witch. Several unsettling mannequins he couldn’t get a good look at, since they were occupying the small family also in the lobby.

Roscoe went to peep down the hallway to the right, which was cornered off with a single strip of velvet rope. When they went to lay a hand on it, the man at the counter tutted and called out in what was surely his stage voice, “Folks if you would just gather here, I’d be glad to sign you up for our grand tour!”

Juliette side-stepped over in front of the register to be first in line, a cheeky smile on her face. The man returned her a smile that crinkled his eyes. Zeke joined her shortly, and it took no time at all the register both parties.

Thus the lot of them gathered in front of the rope divide, the man in charge standing before them with his shoulders braced and hands twisted together. It was hard to tell if the posture was part of the bit, or genuine nerves.

“Hello, hello, I’m your host and owner of all these terrible delights, Terry!” He stumbled over his script with an appreciative laugh when a couple of them cheered. Moving the rope aside, he gathered himself and continued, “Stay close behind me and don’t touch anything you aren’t willing to… get attached to.”

With that and a menacing laugh the tour began. Through the first narrow hallway, with concerningly real cobwebs in its crooks and crannies, past an alcove leading to a bathroom and an office, they took a left-hand turn into a room even darker than the lobby.

As their host briefly explained; “Certain items can be damaged over time in bright lights. No flash photography, of course.”

There were the staples of places like this; traces of Bigfoot and hair of the moth-man, hooves of unicorns even. More interesting was a purple checked hood, dropped by the flatwoods monster - the holes in front lightly singed from the intense light of the creature’s eyes. Surprisingly life-like stone statues of woodland critters, victims of a basilisk. The basilisk itself, even, or a depiction of it.

“Even the corpse is dangerous!” Terry proclaimed, a finger held sternly in the air, “Not suitable for display.”

To his credit, Terry seemed genuinely enthused about each and every piece. But his clear favorite, in the final room, was most impressive of all.

This room was smaller than the others they had passed through, holding only one display. Hidden behind a heavy satin curtain, deep red and lightly dusty. Terry crossed the room with a twirl of his cape, his hands almost seemed to tremble as he reached for the thick braided cord that would pull back the curtain.

“Parents, please hold on to your children.” The party of strangers obliged for the hell of it. Juliette made a point of scooting away from both Zeke and Roscoe.

Terry yanked the cord and revealed a dark, hairy, humanoid figure. Vaguely canine in the face, with great black horns that scraped the ceiling. Hands that weren’t quite hands, but not quite paws either, with jagged, broken claws. Roscoe leaned closer, mouth open slightly. The thing’s fur was as black and fluid as ink, eyes shimmering unnaturally bright for the dimness of the room. Surely, it had to be a sort of projection, but search as the eye might, they could not find the subtle tells.

“The grand prize that no doubt drew you to this place, the lesser demon slain by our very own local monster hunter, Paul Anderson!” Terry shook like an excitable dog.

The younger of the two children there reached out. When their fingertips brushed its bent knee, a single second shattered into a thousand. The beast’s head snapped down, teeth barred in a growl. It staggered forward, knocking over the rope divide. The children shrieked and all seven of the guests scrambled backwards.

Zeke’s hand snapped to his side automatically, instinctively going for his revolver. Thankfully, it was still in the car, so the situation would escalate no further. Terry was absolutely howling with laughter.

He crowed after the little family, who were already back in the previous room, “All in good fun, all in good fun, that’s the one that keeps them coming back!”

Roscoe clutched their heart, despite being blank-faced as ever, aside the raised eyebrows. Juliette tugged at her braid.

Zeke spat out the scare and laughed. “Aw, okay, you got us. That’s pretty damn good. What’s that, animatronic-?”

Terry didn’t even let him finish, moving out of the room, “I’m afraid that’s all there is to see for now! But we always have more attractions coming, if you’d come see us again in the fall…!” His spiel continuing as they returned to the lobby.

With a little distance, everyone was in good spirits about it, though the younger child was a bit huffy in denying that they’d been scared. The family argued briefly over whether to buy anything before ultimately leaving empty-handed. Juliette gently bullied Roscoe into buying her one of the cursed spoons from the display case. Roscoe cast a meaningful glance back at Zeke before taking her outside.

Business concluded, the register rung - an old fashioned thing - and Terry came around the register again. He cast a wary, sideways look at Zeke as he went to set the rope barrier back in place. “Something I can help you with?”

Zeke sidled up next to him with a few casual, swinging steps, put on a sloppy, side-ways kind of smile and a bit of concern on his brow. He clicked his tongue and looked around the lobby as he spoke, “Awfully bold of you to be flauntin’ it like that these days. Pretty neat setup you got going on, though. How’s the monster-hunter involved?”

When he actually turned to look at him, Terry was frozen stiff, breathing in quick, shallow breaths. Zeke held up his hands, any humor dropping from his expression.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I’m not-” the rest of his words were forced out in a gasp as Zeke threw himself aside. He turned back to find a comically large axe splitting the floor where he had just been standing. His gaze shot up to Terry’s face, wide-eyed, unreadable.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He held out a hand even as he crawled backwards toward the hall. Terry shook his head rapidly, fists clenched in his cape.

“That’s what they all say!” Shadows shot up to swallow the light from outside, crept up the walls like thousands of spiders to dim the overhead lights. Terry jerked his arm out dramatically, “That’s what all of them said!”

The weight of those words came into focus quickly; the three grotesque mannequins, their horrified faces looking as though they’d been covered in clay, came to flank Terry. Their bases scratched the floorboards, following as he moved into the hall after Zeke.

Zeke did all he could do; scramble to his feet and try to put distance between them. The options for where he could get it were severely limited; continue on down the hall, into the bathroom, or the office. Zeke didn’t fancy being cornered that quickly. He backed away, still holding up a single pacifying hand. The walls cracked and splintered on either side of him, oozing viscous void from their wounds. Lightbulbs screamed, formless things flitted through the edges of his vision.

“Listen, I’m not here to start anything,” Steady words that simply bounced off his pursuer as they made it into the main display room, “It’s not like that, I’m not with those bastards.”

“I won’t be lied to. I won’t be taken that easy.” Terry spat. The jackalope in the case to his left sprung to life, flailing and trying to bite through the glass, dead eyes flashing. Zeke’s eyes flitted around the room for his next move.

The room dimmed further and suddenly silver flashed in Terry’s hand. A simple, smooth blade. Something clicked together in Zeke’s head, but there wasn’t even time for it to form as a whole thought before Terry threw.

Zeke’s arm shot up in defense, but to no avail. A glass display teetered as he staggered back against the wall. Pain coursed through his ribs - far less than it seemed like there should be. Ragged breaths drew through his teeth as he saw but couldn’t feel the blood pooling up under his fingers. Something that sounded like stomping was lost at the edge of his perception, overtaken by static.

Everything in the room distorted and flickered, twisted and turned sickeningly, lights searing bright before settling back into normalcy. And then it was gone; the knife was gone, both flesh and fabric mended. He palpated the spot just to be sure.

His gaze shot back up to where Terry stood shaking, eyes glistening. The mannequins were gone. And over Terry’s shoulder, he could see Roscoe, an indecipherable mess of guilt and pain and concern on their face, their hands laid on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry - I don’t like to do it so quickly.”

“He stabbed me!” Zeke objected to the apology, hand still on the spot where the knife had been.

They couldn’t really disagree, so they just grimaced and tilted their head.

Zeke pushed himself upright. “Can we please just talk now?!”

“Are you going to take me in, then?” Terry’s voice was small. Frightened. He swallowed and said more insistently, “All I can do is scare people, I’m no good to you. Just parlor tricks.”

Zeke did his best to steady his voice, “No, I tried to tell you, it’s not like that.”

But with his only defense disabled, the fear split him anyway. “Then what?! What do you want?!”

Something like guilt made Zeke’s temper flare, “I just - wanted you to know you got fucking caught! That somebody who knows something about conduits is going to see through you if you keep this up!” Zeke turned on his heel, away from the palpable tension in the room.

Terry did nothing to cut it; he stayed stock still, looking at the ground until he finally slipped to his knees. Roscoe backed away a step.

Zeke put a hand over his mouth and sighed through his nose, trying to ignore the tiny adrenaline tremors still coursing through his arms. He turned back with a suspicious squint.

“If it’s all just tricks of light then how did it hurt?”

Terry looked over to the jackalope display, conspicuously fingering the hole where his cuff-link had been, “I mean, objects can be disguised…”

Zeke’s face felt hot. Had he really reacted so dramatically to something so small? Fear had a power all its own.

“The hunter - you asked about the hunter, Anderson,” Terry twisted his hands together, “He- he caught me. And said… said I could use him as part of the story…”

The subtext settled neatly beneath the silence, like dust beneath a sheet.

“You wanted to talk, that’s where I am. He hasn’t imposed much and it’s been good for business. So what do I do?”

Many questions compounded into one. None that Zeke had the answers to.

“What do I do?” He repeated, shoulders drawn in.

Zeke opened his mouth, but all that came out at first was another sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t-” He walked past them into the hall on autopilot. He needed out of this suffocating place.

Roscoe picked up for him, knelt down next to Terry and produced from their vest a light purple business card. “The best we can offer is somewhere to run, if it comes to that.”

Terry took the card like it might come alive and snap at him.

Zeke heard the two continue to talk, softer now, but didn’t tune in to what else was said. Then Roscoe’s hand was on his back, leading him outside.

The light of day was blinding after the all-consuming dark Terry imposed, every bit of metal or particularly bright rock boring into him. Zeke breathed deep the smell of ceder and hot stone as he put his sunglasses back on.

“Coulda gone better.”

Roscoe laughed and put their hands on their knees. “It was not one of your better showings… I’m glad you’re in one piece.”

“Two pieces, but yeah.”

They laughed again as they straightened up, letting their arms hang loose. “But are you okay?”

“Okay as I’m gonna be. Feel kinda stupid.”

“Normal, then.”

Zeke punched their arm, smirking anyway, “Asshole…”

Across the lot, Juliette was hanging out the window, arms crossed on the edge.

Zeke looked to Roscoe, but from the corner of his eye, he could see movement in the lobby. Inside, Terry quickly looked away, the card still in both hands, face drawn. Zeke sighed. “Put it in the Rolodex… I think we’ll be back.”

#Infamous #Infamous 2 #Zeke Dunbar #that's a dumb trans joke toward the end. because I'm trans and dumb

6 notes · View notes

illdesigns · 4 years

Note

Nategaar, 4, F, ✿ :)

lake, jitters, candles (thank you!)

It was supposed to be relaxing. A lakeside cabin. Fishing, isolation, privacy, nice weather. Skwisgaar had been reluctantly pulled to the vacation spot, Nathan spending a good month beforehand talking about how he used to go there all the time, how fun it was, all that good stuff. A reward of well-earned downtime after a long tour.

The first two days were nice. The sun was out, warm but not hot, the bugs were kept at bay with sprays and citronella. Nathan was even able to get Skwisgaar to try fishing. They didn’t catch anything and Swisgaar was too squeamish to bait his own hook but they had a good time on still water. Then there was a turn. The bug bites during the day despite their efforts, the humidity climbing as it rained, the general unease that storms brought.

A clap of thunder had stirred Nathan from his nap on the sofa and he sat up to see Skwisgaar staring out the window. Rain clattered against the glass, trees whipped in harsh winds that made the cabin creak and lightning illuminated the dark sky in thin spidery lines. And Skwisgaar sat in a chair staring, playing an unplugged guitar that he had dragged with him.

“Hey,” Nathan called softly. He couldn’t hide a smile when he saw Skwisgaar all but jump out of his skin. “You okay?”

Skwisgaar hummed and nodded absently, eyes still focused on the storm. Nathan walked over to him and set his hands on his shoulders in an attempt at comforting him. He was tense. The reason was unspoken and understood and Nathan felt no need to pry. Another burst of lightning and earth-shattering thunder made Skwisgaar jump under his touch again.

“You saids this was gonna be funs,” Skwisgaar said with a shaky laugh.

“We can still have fun!” Nathan’s reply was quick was he gave Skwisgaar’s shoulders another squeeze. “C’mon, man! We can close the blinds, turn up the TV loud and we can watch a-”

The lights flickered once, twice and then stayed off.

“-movie,” he finished with a groan. Skwisgaar shifted under his hands and he heard a soft, quick inhale. “Hey, hey, hey. Hang on. We’re okay. It’s just...shit...Florida weather. You remember this shit.”

As he continued his soothing, Nathan fished in his pocket for his phone, turning on the flash to illuminate the cabin again. Another crack of lightning sent an eerie glow throughout the room, casting further ghostly shadows across the two men, the taxidermied deer head, the furniture. Nathan pat Skwisgaar one last time before heading over to the linen closet in the hallway. The box on the top of the shelf was what he was looking for, almost running into Skwisgaar when he closed the door and tried to make his way back to the living room.

“Candles,” said Nathan simply.

They made their retreat to the bedroom soon after, lighting enough candles until a warm glow lit up almost the entirety of the cozy space. Flames flickered as they moved and shuffled on the bed, yellowed wax dripping down onto paper plates to protect the wooden furniture. The storm still raged outside and Nathan drowned out the sounds as best he could with his shitty phone speakers. It was just sound, music half-listened to, but anything to blot out the noise was better than nothing.

“You remember your first hurricane down here?” asked Nathan suddenly.

It had been bad, in hindsight, Nathan being unphased by the hurricane sirens when they went off. After years of living on the East coast he had almost become deaf to them, but everyone else had been put on immediate edge. They had packed into Pickles’ room in the apartment, the one without windows, all sitting and waiting it out.

“Yeah,” Skwisgaar replied in a soft voice.

The power had gone out then as well. The wind absolutely screaming as rain crashed onto the roof while a radio played music to distract them and for any attempt at hearing the noise. There were less candles that time, a few pinpoints of light in the middle of their circle as Pickles taught them to play poker with guitar picks and bottle caps as chips.

“That was, like, when I first realized you were really scared of storms,” Nathan paused and laughed. “And rats.”

“Oh, those fuckings things,” groaned Skwisgaar.

It had been fun at first, light conversation, Murderface trying to subtly ask what a good hand was when he didn’t even have one to begin with. Then Skwisgaar had let out an almighty gasp of horror at the realization that the five were seven when two little faces peeked out of Magnus’ hair. Nathan remembered the incredulous laugh from Magnus as he held out one of his stupid fucking rats towards Skwisgaar, remembered swatting his hand away as Skwisgaar leaned back as far as he could without getting up and darting out of the room entirely.

He remembered a hand on his own afterward, fingers lacing together in the dim light.

“Is not so bads now, though,” the statement jerked Nathan out of his nostalgia, turning his head to look over at Skwisgaar. With the candles and how he laid on his back, hands folded over his chest, he almost looked like a corpse at a wake. “I handles it better.”

A crash of thunder that made him jump severely undercut his statement. Nathan rolled onto his side and tried to hide his smile as he draped a heavy arm over him. His hand found Skwisgaar’s face to turn it as they looked at each other. Their lips met and Nathan couldn’t stop himself from smiling further into the kiss as Skwisgaar was still at the next roll of thunder. It was an interesting way to keep him calm during storms but if it worked, it worked. And it worked almost too well as candles snuffed themselves out one by one, wicks drowning in their own wax, until they were eventually in complete darkness again.

#rowan's mtl tag #mine #thank you for the prompts sorry it took like two three weeks <3 #yknow

19 notes · View notes

zoocross0vers · 4 years

Photo

HERE WE…GOOO!!!!🦔💨

Sorry for not posting this sooner, I had some problems with scanning and lighting but I’m glad that is finally done. Here are some doodles of Sonic/Zootopia crossover from my 2 favourite movies. Those two movies are complimenting each other. Remember when I told you how Tom👦 and Maddie👩🏾 (these are names of those characters from Sonic movie) remind me a lot of Nick🦊 and Judy🐰? Well, after I watched the movie (10 times in cinema, 15 times at home after pandemy, don’t judge me!), it turns out that they have lot in common indeed that I thought. Those are my favourite moments from movie with Nick and Judy as Tom and Maddie and so does other characters from Zootopia (I really enjoy also that scene akward conversation about shooting Sonic with tranq-gun, that is hilarious for me). Wish I could include more but unfortunately after I drew I realized that my paper is not big enough, dang it! Thankfully I was able for example including at least 3 important moments like Sonic looking at happy couple behind window wishing been part of company, because of fear of him all alone forever, which it saddening him (😢 „sniff“ can someone please give that kid a hug?!😭), Ozzy licking Sonic’s face (awwwwww :3) and of course “THE FINAL BATTLE WITH ROBOTNIK” (at least the confrontation). The only thing I didn’t include was Longclaw and echidna tribe, since they had small screen and I small space (dang it!). Which is bummer because I really like Longclaw, she is really interesting character and wish we could see more. There were only two scenes of her, the one from begging of the movie and the deleted where she end up in earth with Sonic for some time but died from s-sicknes-ss “sniff”😢 (I’m sorry for that but this moment always makes cry every-time I watching it😭, it’s just really personal for me for certain reasons.). I guess you questioning the Ozzy licking Sonic’s face scene considering there are no domestic animal, including dogs and Zootopia is world of anthromorphic mammals, so I thought I would use Yoshi as Ozzy as a cameo from Mario (you know because of friendly rivalry between Sonic and Mario) and also as a gift for Yoshifan, especially after seen many pictures of Nick and Yoshi who’s calling him “Mama Nick” and I found it pretty funny. After I started drawing I realized there are some obstacles that would be problem like (aside from Ozzy) raccoons, bear-head from Piston Pit, chilli-dogs (considering what meat they put on these things if, IF it is a meat), the Sonic’s shoes (the old and new ones) and of course Robotnik himself considering I don’t want to change him into some mammal. Like I said before Robotnik works better as human and he doesn’t need to change to an animal considering he put animals from Sonic’s world, anthromorphic and normal, always in danger or abuse (like making them into badniks, or robotized them). So, how are gonna fix it you ask? Well I have some idea. Like I said before for Ozzy I choose Yoshi for that role (and honestly I don’t have any other options, heheh. BUT you must admit that it is adorable 🥰), raccoons were a challenge so I came multiple ideas for example:

Instead of raccoons we use gerbil jerks from Zistopia concept art

Raccoons will be anthromorphic teens who like mess with Nick while eating from trashcans (like Mr. Big said, evolved but deep down still animals)

Since mammals are sentient how about use non-mammal “trash pandas”(lol, I like that nickname) like birds as ravens, crows or pigeons (pigeons are also known as “flying rats” – thank you Spies in Disguise)

Those are mine options, if you have other in mind I’m listening.

Then there’s taxidermy bear-head. Considering that pouching would classified as not just illegal but also as psycho (still not get over that taxidermy Moose-head from Sly 2. Yeah I know that was part of mission to blend in to not rise a suspicion but seriously, WHY those Moose have that head, did they just-…you know what let’s not think about it😖) I came up with idea instead of taxidermy bear-head how about some mask of unusual mascot like the manticore from Onward, eh eehh? (Or it can some dino but I rather prefer manticore). As for those motorbike gang at first I want to suggest those Ranger Scouts. That would be delightful punishing them that way (evil chuckle😈). But then I remembered the trash gang from Zootopia comic “A hard day’s work” and to be honest those characters are ideal for those roles: wildebeest could the black cowboy, elephant as the belly guy (oh come on, like you didn’t think same nickname after seen Sonic sprung out of his belly) and hyena with green Mohawk as of course the Bear-head jerk. But if you want combine them be my guest.😁

As for chilli-dogs since are Sonic’s favourite we cannot left them behind. Thankfully I was watching on YouTube where there mentioned Tails been vegetarian and one comment that said “Chilli-dog: Am I joke to you?” that made conversation about mobians been vegetarians. So in that case since Zootopia is filled birds (and sometimes bugs), and synthetic meat, proteins, probably tofu, we can assume that there are Chilli-dogs made especially in Zootopia universe (and honestly we do not really know, what exactly hot-dogs are truly made of).🌭

👟The shoes were honestly a very hard obstacle for me considering mammals don’t wear shoes since they are still animals, like our directors said, BUT that doesn’t mean they don’t exist in Zootopia.

Evidence 1: Gazelle – she’s wearing high heels from Preyda

Evidence 2: Poster of (parody) movie Cinderellephant, with elephant-size glass slipper

Evidence 3: Judy Hopps – she wears half-sockets in her police uniform (that still does count as a foot-wear)

So I came with headcanon that only celebrities and patients with sensitive feet wear shoes as a luxury or medical protection (I mean we have a lot of animals that can’t live on different area with their conditions, come on have someone of you seen a polar bear live in Sahara Square?) and in this case it’s the latter (plus there is in this story a human character that needs his own footwear) since Sonic is wearing his running shoes considering that his speed is high enough to burn his feet (ouch🤕).

And finally with Robotnik, we use that orphan idea and certain headcanon from Sonic X about planets that once were one until they divided and made their own time and space alterations, prof. Gerald Robotnik (Eggman’s grand-father) could study Mobius for finding cure for Maria, creating Shadow, G.U.N. etc. It could be three worlds (Sonic’s world/Mobius, Robotnik’s world/our world, and Zootopian’s world) or just two (Mobius and Zootopia), what works better.

As you can see there are some characters I included in in certain scene (aside from Yoshi), I present to you Judy’s niece named Cotton and one of Judy’s (many) sisters Violet Hopps. No, those are not an OC from any fandom, those are official characters from Zootopia universe. You already actually know Cotton but for those who don’t know who is Violet, she was introduced in Zootopia Graphic Novel in comic named “Brothers & Sisters” and considering how she is very overprotective of Judy (like any other Hopps) I thought she would fit perfectly for Rachel role (I don’t think she’s Cotton’s mother so don’t ask), and also she’s the only official Hopps sibling with name we know. I wanted also include another characters into this doodles but I like I said before I didn’t have enough space on one paper. So here are my character ideas: Clawhauser as Wade, Bogo as Major Bennington, Mayor Lionheart as Commander Walters (no surprise). For others like Crazy Carl and Agent Stone I had some problems.

For Crazy Carl I first thought about who would fit perfectly and I came up with a lot of ideas: first I thought about Duke Weaselton, since he has face for that crazyness but then I declined since he doesn’t fit on the character, then I thought about Pop-Pop Hopps but that was questionable considering in movie he had a huge aversion of foxes (red as devil) and comic he’s not biased but then I thought who could describe Crazy Carl better than well-known concept crazy theorist Honey Badger am I right?

As for agent Stone I had no idea what to do with him. I could let him stay as but that would make questions of humans and I didn’t want to put Bellwether into this position. If she was unhappy of been unappreciated and humiliated by predators then I don’t think she would really want to work with someone who is full of himself more than her and only see humanity as an excuse of stupidity and “herd of useless sheep (get it?)” and only relay on machines. And characters from Zootopia Crimes was not an option and Jack Savage was out of question no in my point. Not saying that Jack Savage could be a great option but I don’t think fans would appreciate another bad guy role for Jack and I already have something different for him in my mind. Then it came another that would fit for Stone and that is a certain platypus Dr. Starline from Sonic The Hedgehog IDW comics. He admires Eggman and his evil genius (questionable) and in comics he’s working as partner/assistant for him. But since he is mobian as Sonic we could use idea that government knows about it (partially) but does not tell and he thinks that he is an unusual zootopian platypus (after all he does wear clothes and looks “more” normal unlike Sonic) and we could do the same with Robotnik considering his past about grand-father and project Shadow if Jeff Fowler would follow some headcanons (I wouldn’t surprised if some government keeping some secrets even from employers). But then again we could use also Tony, a bunny from Zootopia Crime Files since he is shady and bland at once and already wear a suit, like agent Stone (great, now I don’t know which one to choose again).

You know what, I’ll give you an option who would fit for role of Agent Stone:

1. Dr. Starline, a platypus from Sonic The Hedgehog IDW comics

2. Tony, a bunny from Zootopia Crime Files

3. Jack Savage, a jackrabbit from Zootopia concept art/Savage Seas (you don’t have to take that third one too seriously, but just in case)

DONE (pass out from exhaustion). Haahhh so much work, editing fixing hands, oohh boyyy. You have no idea how hard this was for me to finally made it. I wish I could do more. But for now I’m so glad that I was able to draw at least some of my favourite moments because I feel they’re important for storytelling: first the introduction of main characters, their struggles, interactions and how they greatly compliment to each other (both Sonic and Zootopia). I mean you can’t just see Judy call Nick and Sonic cute and not imagine that, or there was also moment where Sonic dry like dog so his fur and quills(?) go puffy and Nick would look mesmerized by fluffiness. Come to think of it Sonic has lot in common with Nick and Judy that he would actually fit for the role as their son. You’re not believe? Well here are some examples.

Similarities between Sonic and-

-Judy🐰:

1. heroes in blue (get it?)🌀

2. pretty fast (Sonic more faster than Judy but still…)

3. impatient😤

4. first act then think (always put themselves into danger)

5. thing for get into trouble

6. sense for justice

7. never give up

8. preys but not rodents (that’s right hedgehogs are not rodents)

9. became a friend with fox (their natural predator, that was bullied in past, huh strange, just as strange as hedgehog be taken care of by owl that is also his natural predator)

-Nick🦊:

1. sly smile😏

2. mischievous trickster

3. green eyes

4. omnivores (hedgehogs eat melons, watermelons(what’s the difference?), berries (blueberries headcanon!) and insects, snails, frogs snakes🤢- uhhh I think chilli-dogs works better thank you)

5. cringy sense of humor😒

6. thing for nicknames (by Nick: Carrots, Buffalo Butt, Yakity yak, Flash Hundred Yard Dash, by Sonic: Donut Lord, Pretzel Lady, Eggman, Knucklehead, Super Observant Carl)

7. loyalty (they never left their friends behind)

8. never let them see they get to you (despite suffering a lot of emotional damage, thanks a lot SEGA)

9. smooth talker with heart of gold

-both🐰 🦊:

1. traumatic past

2. sacrifices for others

3. fight for what is right

See they had a lot in common. Anyway I am still glad I was finally able to finish this. It wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

But I guess, that I made it hard for you with those moments so how about this we use the final moments like in your fanfic Carcass Bride: FINAL BOSS BATTLE SONIC VS. ROBOTNIK because honestly this moment is epic (wish I could make it bigger), it would start Sonic running from Robotnik, like we’ve seen in beginning of the movie, get shot retelling in short whole story, like in movie only less detailed and faster the confrontation between Nick and Robotnik (Sonic would unconscious but still hear them and had a self-doubt like Naruto in first chapter/episode if you what mean until he hear the important words that’ll give him boost), the final battle and then epilogue (Sonic with his new family) with open ending (you know the Eggman in Mushroom planet and then Tails’s introuction). As for what kind of universe all of them would be I have another suggestions:

1. Sonic movie universe in Zootopia (but still happening in Green Hills only Zootopia would be San Francisco and Transamerica could be Palm Hotel like in Zistopia storyboard) and Night Howler Case never happened.

2. Night Howler case happened Nick and Judy are still cops, but later decided to live in Green Hills

3. Night Howler case happened but was solved instead of Judy and Nick by Jack and Skye who later became agents and don’t like Robotnik for his ego:

a) Nick come from Green Hills (Wachowskis live as police in GH for 50 years), but suffered from Ranger Scouts move to Zootopia became “shifty fox” until he’s saved by childhood friend Judy from Bunnyburrow (from wrong decision and targeting to become savage) and the return to Green Hills become sheriff along with his new wife.

b) Both Nick and Judy just heard about it in Green Hills.

I guess the first and third are more interesting.

Okaayy now I realized that this became more ambitious that I planned but I guess that happens when you try balancing two franchises so it can make sense (enough for headcanons). But I’m not saying that I’m proud of myself. So I’ll leave you the rest (the options and writing) so I can’t wait for one-shot fanfic good luck. And also (even though it’s late but still better than never) Happy birthday Sonic, this is for you! GOTTA GO FAST!🐰🦊🦔💨

#GottaGoFast🦔💨

#LongLiveWildeHopps🦊🐰

#StaySafe😷

#AlwaysRemember (this is for late actreesses that they will alway be remembered and in our hearts❤️)

....

Oh wow! This is really great! You put a lot of scenes from the film, this is awesome!I also see that you gave Yoshi a cameo, lol! @yoshifan30 will definitely love that, lol! I like the collage look you gave the whole thing. Also, I just realized, is that supposed to be Cotton? Judy’s niece? Thank you so much for this! I will reblog this soon so I can read it more thoroughly and discuss anything I may have missed :) And once again, this...is...INCREDIBLE!!! <3 Fantastic Job Guest! You’re really talented! :D

#zootopia #sonic #sonic film #crossover #wildehopps #awesome mini comics #comic collage #submission

33 notes · View notes

darksunrising · 5 years

Text

Sola Gratia (3/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General Audiences, no warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 3/? (2262 words)

Author’s notes : Eris starts to explore, and starts to understand castle and Count both hold some mysteries she is not sure she wants to resolve.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

My eyes fluttered open, and it took me a second to make sense of my surroundings. Sitting up with some difficulty, the soft mattress seemingly trying to keep me in, I set the covers aside, and threw my legs over the edge of the bed. The room was bathed in a strange light, almost green, and if the rain had stopped, the sky was still low with bulging clouds, threatening to burst open at any moment. The fire in the hearth had died out, only leaving a few red coals to shimmer softly.

I changed back into my new outfit. My usual clothes might have dried out overnight, but I had to admit I really loved the skirt. It had pockets, for hell’s sake. I had no idea what time it was, the dark skies making it impossible to assess the position of the sun. I figured if I were going to do anything, I might as well go check on the damage in my bag, which I decided to forget about last night. I left the room, trying to find my way back to the main hall. After a few hesitations and turnbacks, I finally found the main stairs, and reached my bag, still sitting near the door. As I feared, most of everything was soaked, even the food I’d taken with me. Had to throw that out, at some point. I found my phone, that I had miraculously put in a waterproof case. Still working, though on concerningly low battery, and had no signal. I sighed, and set it to extreme batter saver mode, hoping it would last until I could get back to civilisation.

I grabbed my remaining clothes to have them dry with the rest, and went to the dining room. There, the fire was still going strong, with a couple of fresh logs. At the end of the large banquet table, I was surprised to see a steaming pot of tea, and a plate of something close to scones, I believe. It was accompanied by a sheet of thick, high quality paper, folded in half to stand on its own, marked with my name in a neat, graceful handwriting.

“Dear Eris, I expect you had a pleasant sleep. I have left for the most of the day, and will certainly not return before dark. Please enjoy some breakfast, as you must surely be famished. Feel free to explore should you wish it, as I have left the keys for you along with this letter. I hope you will forgive me for my absence, and trust you will find the means for distraction. Your devoted host, Count Vlad Balaur.”

As I read the letter in a half hushed voice, warmth spread across my chest as I finished on his name. A glance at the table confirmed the presence of said keys. If I had to fumble through all of them every time I wanted to open a door, exploring just might take the whole day after all. I slipped them, along with the letter, in my pocket, and poured me a cup of tea. It was a different blend, black, yet flowery and soft. Perfectly well infused. The scones seemed to be fresh out of the oven, which made me wonder if he baked them himself, or had staff. I didn’t see anyone last night, but then again, it was late. If he was as rich as his house suggested, he just might. I figured I would look out for them. If anything, I had to compliment the chef. I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday at lunch, but eating these scones felt somewhat close to a religious experience.

After I became physically unable to eat any more, I decided to follow the Count’s idea, and explore. The castle was old, that much I could tell. I wasn’t an expert on architecture, but I was more or less convinced that the most ancient phase of construction had to be around the 13th, 14th century. The village probably built itself around it, so that would make some sense. Obviously, it had been updated, rebuilt, but the main structure was still visible. A lot of the rooms seemed almost… Stuck in time. A bit messy, crowded, as if the people who last left could come back any moment. Even so, the thick layer of dust dulling the colors made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.

I couldn’t help but feel some nostalgia. 15-year-old me would have been thrilled exploring a place like this. Not that I wasn’t, but at that time, I was so into urban exploration that I almost got dragged to the station a couple of times for tresspassing. My parents never knew, and just thinking of their reaction if they ever had had to go bail me out of jail for being a bastard goblin made me go into hysterics. Couldn’t help but picture my father, stilted up into some sad brown corduroy suit, mouth pinched in a lip-less line, having to pick up a ratty kid who just could not, would not, keep her grubby hands out of dangerous, rat infested abandonned houses. Or shut down psych wards, that one time. Pretty anti-climatic, that was.

I stifled a laughter, and shut the door behind me. Most of the rooms were boudoirs, spare bedrooms and such. There was one large room, covered in hunting trophies and animal skeletons. This one interested me the most. Inside, I noticed it was close to a cabinet of curiosities. Glass and wood shelves hosted a variety of skeletons, egg and sea shells, fossils, even some weirdly misshapen baby animals, floating in yellowed jars. The taxidermied animals seemed almost real, and at any moment, I expected them to start moving around. One shelf, built along the whole length of a wall, was dedicated to various skulls, ranging from standard game, elks, boars and whatnot, to more exotic things. One in particular caught my eye. At first glance, I thought it might be human, but I was very quick to change my mind.

The skull seemed fine, strong jaw still attached to the cranium, even a bit of mummifies tissue still attached in some spaces. However, the teeth… The teeth made no sense. Too many, too sharp, like they had been filed into curved, pointy shapes you only see in great apes, or carnivorous animals. Reviewing every strange cultural rite that could explain such a bizarre thing, I started to feel more and more uneasy. I almost felt like it was staring at me from the shadows, behind the hollow eye sockets. Not necessarily wanting to linger any more, I slipped out of the room, and locked the door after a few tries. Just to be sure, you know.

I had visited most of the rooms, but still one was pinching my curiosity. If I understood right, I could see its windows from those of the corridor leading to the dining room. Tall windows, almost church-like. I passed its door a few times, but was never able to find the key that unlocked it. The mind works like it works, and by the thrid time, I was almost ready to find a way to pick the lock, or break it down. Frustrated as ever, I gave a kick to the frame, that made me repress a cry of pain.

“Well now, what has that poor door done to deserve this ?”

I nearly jumped at the sound of the Count’s voice. He was standing behind me, a manner which seemed to have become a habit on his part.

“It was resisting my best attempts to pierce it’s secrets, which is a grave offense in my book”, I replied.

“Ah, I am afraid it was entirely my fault”, he admitted, and produced a key from his pocket, twisting it between his long, slender fingers.

A mischievous smile playing on his lips, he unlocked the double doors, and pushed them open, dramatically turning back to face me, his coat flaring around him, arms open.

“Welcome to my library.”

The room was filled with the last rays of the sun, setting on the mountain ridge, under the clouds. It caught the dust the Count must have raised as he entered in golden specs, floating up all around him. Everywhere, bookshelves stretched out up to the high ceilings, accessible by ladders and small bridgeways. The floor was covered in richly woven carpets, and at every comfortable corner sat armchairs and reading tables, agremented with chandeliers. There had to be a lifetime’s worth of reading within these four walls, and for a moment, I was unable to even walk in.

As I finally regained control of my limbs, I stubled inside, jogging to the nearest shelf. Leather-bound books, stacks of rolled parchment, gilted, worn, intricate, small, large, I didn’t even know where to look first. There were so many different languages, I couldn’t even recognize half. I let my fingers trail along the backs of the volumes, deciding on which to pick first.

“Do you like it ?”, the Count softly asked, as if not to disturb my frantic search.

I turned towards him, unable to stop smiling. He looked almost surprised, almost moved. The sun caught his eyes, revealing their deep blue color. I noticed his hair was now dark as night, cascading on his shoulders. Not a single gray hair in sight. He looked almost exactly like his portrait in the dining room, now that I thought about it. He must have noticed my internal trouble.

“Is there something wrong ?”, he asked, stepping closer to me.

“Nothing”, I replied, shaking my head. “You seem to be… Well, for lack of better terms, younger than yesterday.”

“Ah, a bruise to my ego !”, he exclaimed as he carried a hand to his heart. “I know I have left my younger days behind, but I have yet to be an old man.”

It had been a dark, stormy night, and I figured that by candlelight, my mind could have played tricks on me. Maybe I had been expecting a lonely old man so much, that he appeared that way, in my slightly frostbitten mind. I decidedly turned my attention to the shelves, and picked a volume. A bit worn, but the dark green of the leather, and the tiny golden patterns still vivid on the spine. As I read the title, it had me laughing to myself. Ὀδύσσεια, Homer’s Odyssey, in the “original” speech.

“Do you read ancient greek ?”, the Count asked, now looking over my shoulder.

“I have had the misfortune of learning it. Since then, I fell out of practice, I think.”

I turned over the pages, the familiar words coming back to mind without having to really read them. It was with this story, and the Illiad, that my parents taught me. I knew them almost by heart at that point. His tall silhouette, behind me, felt almost protective. I was nearly tempted to let myself lean back against his chest. I could feel soft strands of hair brushing past my shoulder, making a shiver run down my spine.

“Are you cold ?”, he asked. “I am afraid these walls tend to not hold the heat very well. I could have a fire lit here, if you want.”

His tone was almost tender, concerned. I had no time to answer, before I heard the rustling of fabric, and felt the weight of his coat placed over my shoulders. His hands lightly slid down my arms, flattening the soft, tightly woven wool over me. The sudden warmth did nothing for my shivering, and I nervously turned another page. My finger slipped on the edge, which cut right through the soft skin.

I cursed under my breath, watching red bead at the cut, and run toward my palm. The hands of the Count, still over my shoulders, suddenly gripped them tight, almost enough to hurt me. I could swear I heard a growl from deep inside his chest. He took my hand in his, examining the wound. A slow stream of red came trickling down his own fingers. He was leaning closer to me, so much that I could feel his breathing on the nape of my neck, heavy, trembling.

“You should be more careful”, he told me, his voice barely more than a whisper, deep, and dark.

I turned back, freeing myself of his grip, and tried to step away. My back hit the shelves, my injured hand held up to my chest, the other still holding the book so tight my knuckles went white. He once again took my hand, this time holding a cloth to the cut, red slowly seeping into the white cotton. He kept his eyes riveted to the makeshift band-aid. They didn’t seem so blue anymore. He took a deep breath, which sounded almost like a snarl as he let it out. He whispered something in romanian I couldn’t make out, let go, and suddenly, he was gone. Leaving me breathless, confused, holding the now mostly red cotton square to my hand. The edges of the shelf dug into my back. I inhaled sharply, as if I’d been holding my breath the entire time, which could easily have been the case.

I closed the book, and slipped it back onto the shelf. The library was silent, if it weren’t for the faint sound of a crackling fire, in the hearth.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock

#fanfiction #dracula fanfiction #dracula bbc #dracula castlevania #bram stoker's dracula #vampire x human #slow burn #fanfic #heheh things are gonna go down soon!!!#i'd love to hear what you thing of it #don't hesitate sending me asks or stuff like that !

28 notes · View notes

yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years

Note

oooo could we now get some headcanons for the Prefects as Animagi?

be me: hyperventilating and throwing aside every other submission to do this one

ABSOLUTELY

Chester

• Animal: Giant panda

• He only seems to sleep in this form

• He will straight up snooze in the library in the form of a large fuzzy bear but it isn’t bothering anyone so nobody really cares

• He like,,,stick

• Twitches his ears a lot

• Don’t know why but he does

• Angie likes to hug him and bury her face in his fur when she’s sad

• He doesn’t mind at all

• He will also straight up lay on her and engulf her with his fluff

• Sleeps in the oddest places

• Grooms Angie even though pandas don’t usually do that

• His bestie’s gotta look good though

Angelica

• Animal: Kinkajou

• Nobody really knew what she was at first

• Felix, picking her up: what kind of rat is this

Angelica: *screeches*

Felix: WHAT THE FUCK

• Finally! She can scream and people won’t think it’s weird! (cause kinkajous are very verbal)

• So yeah she makes a lot of noises

• Sits on Chester’s shoulder a lot

• Or on his head if he’s in his Animagus form and they’ll cruise around the school

• She has a lot of,,,,tongue

• Seriously kinkajous have very long tongues

• Unfortunately she’s very small and can’t stop other Gryffindors from doing stupid shit in this form

• Still, she enjoys it a lot

• Angie: *screaming while on top of a shelf*

Rowan: w...what is that?

Chester: that’s her morning ritual

Jane

• Animal: Cougar

• And if she couldn’t get more intimidating!!

• Have you ever gotten glared at by a deadly big cat?? it’s not fun

• She files her claws

• Their sharpness scares first-years

• She likes to do that a lot. Scare the new Hufflepuffs

• Rowan, @ the cougar lounging on a mantle in the common room: Oh, cool, there’s a taxidermy cougar in here, guys!

Jane: *snaps open her eyes*

All the kids: *have fucking heart attacks*

• Has she ever mauled someone? Not yet

• Has she considered it? Many times

• Will sometimes sit in the common room in this form and scares the shit out of MC when they come back from causing trouble

• Sometimes ounces on the other Prefects (but only them. she doesn’t do it to anyone else. it’s like special treatment)

• Has purred before

• Denies it ever happened

Felix

• Animal: Secretary bird

• Can and will kick the shit out of you

• Don’t test those talons or those legs

• Ruffles his feathers when agitated

• Or he’ll flap his wings when distressed or startled

• Angelica calls him a “glorified ostrich”

• So in response he’ll snatch her up by the tail and fly her up to an alarming height

• Don’t worry he’s only dropped her one (1) time

• And Chester had a heart attack

• ANYWAY he’s made a habit of pruning himself

• Snake-Bird’s gotta look good

• His feathers are shiny and soft

• Roughhouses with Angelica a lot

• He gets bitten, she gets stomped on- it’s a mutual thing none Animagi wouldn’t understand

#I LOVE THIS AU!!!!!#LET THEM BE ANIMAGI JAM CITY #COWARDS #chester davies #angelica cole #jane court #felix rosier #hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #ask #imagine hphm #animagus prefect au

40 notes · View notes

ghostheadcanons · 6 years

Text

Papas + Copia: Morbid S/O

Anonymous said:

How about the Papas and Copia individual reactions to someone that has a major fascination with things of a morbid nature (cemeteries, Victorian mourning customs, taxidermy, etc.), the kind of person that would prefer a bouquet of dead flowers over live ones, hahaha. 🌹

Have you looked around, anon? The clergy is the absolute perfect place for an S/O with habits like that!

Papa Nihil:

It takes him by surprise at first, but it’s more of a delightful surprise than anything. How delightfully eccentric of you, cara mia!

He’s been alive for a very long time--if any of those morbid interests include things he knows about, he’ll share them with you in great detail. For example, Italian burial customs through the years, or perhaps the dancing plagues that swept across Europe a few centuries ago...

If taxidermy is something you actively participate in, he would very much like to see your results.

Papa I:

He isn’t quite as enthusiastic about your morbid interests as his father is, but that doesn’t mean he’s not supportive of them.

Tell him that you like dead flowers and he’ll be a little confused. Nonetheless, he’ll let his own blossoms wither and die before he brings them to you. Or he’ll just wait until they’re wilting and press them. Forever preserved, between life and death....

If you’d like, he could pull a few strings to have you working in the church’s cemetery. Taking care of the graves and such.

Papa II:

He himself is interested in quite a few morbid things, so you’re definitely not alone. Talk to him about graveyards, and he’ll talk of the catacombs in Paris. Unsettling folktales...unnerving places...he knows all about them.

When the two of you take vacations, they’re to strange and spooky spots all around the world. You both have quite the collection of souvenirs.

He’s quite poetic about your morbid interests. “La mia bellezza oscura...you bloom so vibrantly, a black rose in a sea of garish daisies...so lucky am I to have found you.”

Papa III:

A little surprised, but he’s an openminded man who is usually down for anything! This Papa loves the dark, so he would be a perfect match for you.

If you partake in taxidermy, he would want to learn how to do it too. Bonding!

The result is a horrifying monstrosity of a stuffed cat. He tried, he really did, but it would give anybody nightmares. He takes to hiding it, and watching you cry out in terror when you find it before cursing him out. It makes him laugh!

You get your revenge by hiding the cat in places where he’ll definitely stumble upon it, and you hear his own shocked yelps. “Merda santa!” But he’s quick to laugh it off. “Well! Hello to you too, Binx.” He gives the cat a few playful pats on the head.

It becomes something of a game for the both of you, scaring eachother with Binx, the taxidermy’d cat. You call it “Cat Scare.”

Cardinal Copia:

‘Dead flowers instead of live ones.’

Okay, but if you tell him you absolutely adore his dead flower bouquets, you see his whole face light up and he smiles. It’s a full-on smile, without a hint of nervousness. You like his presents!!

He himself isn’t very interested in the more morbid things in life, but he’s more than happy to support your interests!

His own interests seem morbid on the outside, but are actually quite normal (like with his rats!), so the pair of you could find some common ground.

#ghost #ghost bc #papa nihil #papa iii #papa ii #papa i #copia #cardinal copia #ghost headcanons #ghost bc headcanons #interests #headcanons #relationships #love

123 notes · View notes

halfbloodlycan · 6 years

Text

The Sorceress’ Murderous Companion - Chapter 1

Thorn hesitated at the door of his own home. He hadn’t seen his brother, Spike for at least two years. He rubbed his tattooed shoulder nervously, traced his fingers along the wheel’s spokes. Thorn took a deep breath. Spike would help him, Thorn was certain. He glanced at the tattoo, its brown lines were dark against his ochre skin and it reminded him that he was an escort, and he wouldn’t let Catherine or anyone else take his life away.

The cabin smelled the same, and as he let himself in, it looked almost as it had two years ago. Stained floor, plants covering cracks in the walls, trophy animal parts stacked in a pile on the floor, waiting to be hung up in a cabin that didn’t need more decoration on the walls.

His brother was startled from a peaceful position at the bottom of the stairs. He jumped to his feet. Sweat gleaned his forehead, and his face was rough with black scruffiness. His hair was a rat’s nest of lengthy tangles as though he had never learned to cut it while he was on his own. Thorn would fix that.

Spike’s clothes were another matter altogether. While Thorn made an effort to keep the blood off his work clothes and blend in with society, Spike had no need to do either of those. Thorn wrinkled his nose, “You smell like squirrel blood. I hope that’s not all you eat.”

Spike looked at his clothes, “I-I’m sorry Thorn. I’ll go clean up.” He practically fell up the stairs as he went to find clean clothes.

The place reeked of rodents and other unsavory meat that made Thorn feel nauseous. He stepped outside to take a breath of fresh air and found their pet carnivorous plant, named Felicia, outside bobbing her bulbous head from side to side. While she couldn’t exactly move around, she managed to somehow lure birds and animals close enough to get some real food once in a while.

Spike came downstairs in a faded gray shirt and dark green pants. In short, he looked like he could blend into the forest easily, though as far as Thorn remembered, Spike was never good at blending in.

“Did two years fix your hunting habits?” Thorn said with a grin. Spike scratched at his arm until it was raw with marks. His eyes downcast, he said, “Why are you here, Thorn? It’s been two years.”

“Two years of planning,” Thorn said. “Two years of keeping my job and keeping you safe.”

“Keeping me safe,” Spike said the words like he was tasting them. “Safe from what?”

“Safe from Catherine’s plans to crack down. Finding out about me could lead her to you. I’ve been walking on eggshells busting my ass so she wouldn’t notice me.” Thorn threw his arm around Spike’s shoulders and drew him closer. “I need your help with the next step. You’re not busy, are you?”

Spike pulled away, but Thorn’s grip grew tighter. “I actually was planning a trip away. Camping, living off the land,” Spike ended meekly.

“You already live off the land, and you need to work on your survival skills before planning any trip like that. We can do it together, once this is all over. Now, I really need you. It’ll be like when dad was alive. You wanna make me proud, don’t you?”

“I guess-”

Thorn patted him on the head, ran fingers through his hair, and pulled until he winced. “First, I’ve gotta make you more presentable.”

Thorn grabbed a clean knife and started cutting. “In about a week, I have a client taking a path from Sylvan Hollow to Alden Town. Luckily, the best route takes us past our cabin here. It’s a bit of a long route [maybe 3 days]*. I’ll lure her to the cabin, and your job will be to catch her. Understand?” Thorn admired Spike’s shorter curls.

“Yeah, okay,” Spike replied. “You planning on eating her?”

“No, not exactly,” Thorn mused. Not immediately, anyway. “First I need her so I can get to her sister, Catherine. She’s the one implementing the stricter rules for escort services. If she gets her way, I’m likely to be the first on her to-kill list.” Thorn studied Spike’s face for a moment.

Spike was shocked, of course, he was. Scared maybe? “If I’m lucky, this plan should also bring our sister back.” That really got Spike’s attention. “You’ve seen Thistle?” He asked a little too eagerly.

Thorn paced around the table next to the kitchen counters. He scratched at the old layers of peeling wood from numerous cuts. “Not recently, no. But she is close to Catherine, which wouldn’t be a problem if the witch wasn’t also fucking up my life.” Thorn dug into the wood a little too deep and felt a pinch under one of his fingertips. He pulled the splinter out and winced. “Is that enough of a reason to help me?”

Spike looked down at the floor for what seemed to Thorn the millionth time. If his eyes were fire, he would’ve burned a hole through the floor. Finally, after some amount of silence later, Spike nodded.

Thorn sighed, no enthusiasm at all? Even for the possibility of seeing his sister again? Spike was far too subdued. Here he’d been, alone in this cabin full of memories of his family, and he wasn’t even excited to see Thorn.

“You’ll need to be alive, Spike.” Maybe he needed a good hunting trip. Something to get him in the mood for the task. Thorn grabbed him by the arm and led him outside.

Spike tried to resist for the first minute but gave up easily. Thorn was certain he needed this. The taste of blood, the smell of dying flesh should be nostalgic enough to pick him up. They could get a trophy for the walls. Or the floors as most of them happened to never get mounted. If they got something good enough, perhaps they could even go through the taxidermy process together. Dad had taught him a lot about it.

Thorn pushed Spike ahead of him. “Go find something. I’ll watch.” Spike hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but turned away to stare at the forest like it was made [out of something dangerous]*. “Find something big,” Thorn clarified. Please, no rodents or small birds. “You can still track bigger animals, can’t you?”

“I can smell them, but-”

But? There was no room for ‘but’. He put a hand on Spike’s shoulder, “But what?” He growled. “When was the last time you tracked anything bigger than a squirrel?”

“There was this bird that was a little bigger. It had a wingspan almost my height, although I guess it was injured so it wasn’t really fly-” Spike stopped himself and looked up at Thorn, then back at the ground.

Thorn could almost hear Spike’s heart racing. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder a little tighter and forced a smile. “You’ll need some practice before she gets here. Do it for me. Do it for your sister. She needs us.”

Tag List:

@maskedlady @tlbodine @lady-redshield-writes @focusdumbass @nerocael@momofwar @contes-de-rheio @forlornraven @writinginthebox @madmoonink

@startledserpent @thatwriternamedvolk @formallyfreya @christophercant@ramblingsofabourbondrinker @random-with-garlic @starsprinkledwaters@infinitebadashianqueen @plsfeedthewriter @kevindamenauthor @benvolio-writes @starlitesymphony @renee561 @enasroterfaden @focusdumbass@nerocael

#wip: sorceress #wip: the sorceress' murderous companion #chapter 1 #preview #my writing #blood #horror #fantasy

18 notes · View notes