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odder-oddish · 10 days ago

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Need a fic of Unknown wondering what it's like to hug someone since it never had anyone hug it before. You can choose what character you want interacting with it! 👍

This prompt had me stumped for a little bit, as I'm not super familiar with the Unknown so writing from Its perspective was a challenge for me. But here it is now. I'm not sure it followed the request exactly, but I like how it turned out.

Enjoy, (and if you have a ship or a character you'd like to see more of, my asks are open, so feel free to come leave me a oneshot request)

First Mate

How can you long for something you never knew you were missing? That shouldn't be possible, but It can feel something missing nonetheless. It yearns for something. Something that It never had. It doesn't know what It yearns for, but It aches anyway.

It spends a lot of time alone these days, but that's nothing new. It doesn't mind. There are trees and a pretty statue, and a building with comfy chairs. And sometimes the black wall morphs into a dancing picture, and It can't help but stare sometimes. Occasionally, it wanders into other strange places, forests, swamps, or surrounded by walls of cars. But usually it's back in the place with the trees, the statue, and the dancing picture.

Sometimes, there are others in and around the building. They crouch in front of strange machines and make them hum. But they never stop to say hi to It. They talk to each other, sometimes giving them orders or arguing. But other times they cheer each other on. But they never talk to It. Instead they just run. So It uses the sharp stick it found, the one with the metal head, to try and slow the people down. So they'll talk to It just for a minute.

Sometimes, It kicks the machines. It feels bad, destroying all of their hard work, but It doesn't know what else to do. When the machines get loud enough they turn bright and then all the other people run away, but black webs and sticks keep It from following them.

Sometimes, It tries to start a conversation. "You're gonna wanna see this," It says to a man with glasses and dark hair but he just turns and runs away.

"Hey, come here!" It tries to a woman with long white hair but she just shoots him with her sun ray.

"Help!" It tries, as a few run away, trying desperately to push past the strange black web holding it in. But the people just run from It, celebrating another "victory." Though It doesn't know what they were victorious over.

So ordinarily, It is alone. And maybe that is what It yearns for. Not being alone anymore. It's skin feels almost cold, but not really. Deep within Its skin It feels a strange, empty ache. But what will soothe It?

There is no sun here, so It never sees the day, and It doesn't know how much time has passed. Though It also didn't know how much time passed before it came here. And yet, It hopes something will change.

Something comes some time later, in the shape of a dog. A massive, drooling, angry black dog. He seems angry, but not at It. He barks, a harsh, loud sound that carries over the wind. So It walks over to it, leaning down, and putting Its head close to his.

"Help… do you need help?" It asks.

But the dog backs away from It before letting out a long howl. A despairing sound that makes It feel oddly sad. It wonders if the dog is longing for something too.

"Can… Can I help?" It tries again, and this time the dog looks at It. For a second, he seems to regard It with curiosity before it growls and lunges, baring his teeth as dives for It.

But his sharp teeth don't close around Its body. Instead, he bites on the metal-tipped stick It holds. He growls slightly, then his tail begins to wag. And the dog growls lowly, continuing to tug on the stick.

Then, suddenly, the dog lets go, but the change in force makes It lose Its grip. The metal stick goes flying and lands about fifteen yards away. The dog looks first at It, then at the stick, before he turns and scampers to the stick, picking it up and carrying it back to It.

It watches as the stick is dropped at Its feet, covered in dog drool. The dog, meanwhile, looks up at it, tail still wagging, and yaps excitedly.

"Do you want… again?" It asks, voice distorted. The yapping continues, so It lifts the metal stick in the air and then throws it as far as it can. Once again, the dog chases after it.

The process repeats and It feels… happy for the first time. The dog seems to like It, as he isn't running away from It. He keeps coming back with the stick and wagging his tail and it doesn't leave It behind. It has a friend!

After about a dozen tosses and retrievals, the dog seems a little bit tired. Panting, he lays down in the grass for a minute before suddenly, he jumps back to his feet, nose in the air. He begins to sniff and look around wildly.

"What… What is it?" It asks, but the dog ignores It, following some sort of scent.

The dog ends up at the popcorn machine, standing on his hind legs and pawing at the glass, as a low whine escapes his mouth. He wants whatever's inside, It realizes.

And It can help! With a decisive motion, It lifts the metal stick and crashes it into the machine, breaking it open. The dog immediately lunges for the intestines coiled up in the machine and runs away, the intestines dragged on the grass behind him.

And It feels sad again. The dog has left It, like everyone else does. Saddened, It sits in the grass, unsure what to do. Maybe It will wait for the people to return and make the fancy machines hum again. Maybe It will throw the metal stick at them and see if they bring the stick back too.

It wonders if it ruined it's chance. The dog left It, just like everyone else, and just so he could chew on some intestines. It walks over to a a tall fence and sits down with a "thud," head hung in sorrow. What would it take, It wonders, to get someone to stay?

It feels cold, all of a sudden. And It aches with a pain It doesn't quite understand. It must be cursed to an existence alone. Its heart feels heavy.

Soft footsteps slowly approach It, and It looks up to see the dog trotting back over, the intestines likely already devoured. But this time, the dog doesn't reach for the sharp metal stick. He walks straight up to It before lying down in Its lap. The dog's weight settles over It, as he lays down, his head resting on Its knee.

It isn't sure whether It has a heart, but if It does, it would certainly be beating faster with utter glee, at the sensation of feeling the dog lie in Its lap. Another creature, finally not running from It, but instead staying with It, even seeking out Its comfort? The emotion is overwhelming. Finally, another creature who doesn't fear It. It is almost afraid to move, to disrupt the dog who rests against Its legs. Because this is what It has ben craving. What It has needed for so long.

The dogs eyes close and it begins to snore. It takes Its hand, the one not holding the stick, and puts it on the dog's back, gently petting the fur. It doesn't know what compels it to do that, but It knows that feels right. The dog doesn't fear It, trusts It enough to sleep curled up in Its lap. And suddenly, It gets a strange feeling of belonging that It's never had before.

It must fall asleep, because It wakes up in pain. A blunt object is pressed into Its chest, hard. The pressure hurts and It writhes in pain, opening Its eyes to see a woman standing above him.

She is tall. Very tall. With dark skin and hair and a cane in her hand which is currently being shoved against It. "Another abomination," she says, her voice low. "No matter. I hope you're prepared to die like the rest of that scum."

The cane is pulled back and she raises it into the air and It realizes what's going to happen. She is going to hurt It. In the moment between her raising the cane and the inevitable blow, It thinks about the dog one last time. How lucky It was to have a moment of comfort, even if it was fleeting.

But the dog isn't gone. He's still there, behind the woman. And just before she can swing at It, the dog begins to whine, a high pitched, desperate sort of noise. To Its suprise, the dog leaps in between It and the woman, barking at her.

"What is it, boy?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

The dog doesn't respond. Just turns to It and licks Its face, a strange, slobbery sensation.

"Oi. You like this one, do ya?" she asks as the dog turns back to her and gently headbutts her, pushing her back.

It watches, confused, as the woman and the dog face off. Until she changes her grip on the cane, once again holding it from the head, and lowers her arm. She reaches for It with her free hand instead, pulling It to Its feet. "Today's your lucky day. But remember, you're only alive because Snug likes ya, understood?"

It nods quickly, just relieved that the cane isn't going to hurt It. "Hi. Is this your dog?" It asks, voice distorted as always.

"Aye. Snug's my boy." she answers, looking It over with a critical gaze. There's a strange look in her eye, as if her nature is to be bloodthirsty and violent, and now, she must go against her instincts. Once again, her hand is held out to It, but It doesn't know what to do with it. "Captain Portia," she says boldly. "And what can I call you?"

It doesn't have an answer. "Call me. Call… me?" It asks, utterly confused.

The woman, Portia, laughs, a rowdy, full-bellied sound. And It, in Its confusion, begins to laugh as well. "You're a strange one, I'll give you that. And thank you, for looking after Snug." At the mention of his name, Snug looks up at Portia, panting lightly. She gives his head a few pats before turning away from It.

It realizes, Snug is leaving. Leaving with Portia. Not again. It can't be left alone again. After having the most teasing taste of companionship, of belonging, it is going to be isolated all over again.

"Wait. Please wait," It says, and Portia turns back to It, a strange look on her face. "Can I… Can I stay?"

She purses her lips and stares at It for a full minute before looking down at Snug. "I'm trying to kill a man who destroyed my life. I'll stop at nothing, and will leave no one who stands in my way alive. I will kill again and again, destroying the vermin who dare cross me. Do you understand?"

It nods. It will stay out of her way. It just doesn't want to be alone. If she wants to kill a man, It will help. It will do whatever she needs so that It doesn't have to be by Itself forever.

"Right then. I suppose I could use a first mate. But don't fall behind."

She turns and begins walking again and It follows. And Portia shows It a way out of Its confinement, to other worlds. She shows It new realms. Forests and swamps and a small abandoned town and strange futuristic planets. And they encounter all sorts of strange creatures and monsters. But It is never alone.

Portia tells It stories about growing up on a pirate ship, of navigating, of studying the stars. And It listens. It doesn't have exciting stories to share back, but It likes to listen. Sometimes while she talks Snug will come lay in Its lap and sleep again, snoring loudly in the night.

And one day, they're chasing people again. They're in a forest with some people who are once again trying to make the machines bright and loud. And while It still doesn't understand why, It and Portia chase after them all.

"Oi! One of 'em is getting away!" Portia yells. It turns just in time to see a woman with pretty blonde hair run past. She's going to run past the gates and leave like always. And Portia isn't close enough to stop her.

So It instinctively charges into action, catching the blonde woman at a different angle and bringing the sharp stick down over her head. The blonde woman falls to the ground and Snug holds her there.

It watches intently as Portia walks over and stomps her foot down over the woman's head. Laughing as the screams abruptly cease.

"Ha-ha! You've done it!" she says, turning to It with a bloodthirsty, wild smile. She closes the distance between him and slings and arm around It's shoulders as she whoops loud into the air. "You certainly are a good first mate."

The arm around It is too rough. Squeezing too hard and making Its neck hurt. But It doesn't mind. It's made her proud, It's done something good. And It's made someone happy. The touch is casual, but It relishes each second of contact, the companionship igniting a sense of belonging that It's never felt before.

Snug comes over too, and It reaches down to pet him for a few seconds before turning back to Portia. "We're a. We're a team!" It says, voice distorting even more as excitement obscures Its voice.

"And a damned good one at that, Mate," Portia says with a grin. She pulls her arm away but this time, the loss of contact doesn't leave It feeling empty inside. Instead, It still feels warm, like the camaraderie between them is going to last.

"Come on, we've got more to explore," Portia says after a moment. The three of them, the violent pirate captain without a ship, her loyal hound, and It, the strange creature that has never belonged anywhere, walk into the shadows together. And for the first time, It feels happy about the adventures to come.

It has a crew now. It has a home.

#dead by daylight fanfic #dead by daylight unknown #dbd the unknown #dbd houndmaster #dbd unknown #portia maye #dbd snug #the houndmaster

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