#this blood rain event is spooky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

remiivu · 3 months ago

Text

Ghostly Companion- Chapter 1

Link on Ao3! Currently rated Teen but may go up to Mature/Explicit

Masterlist Next Chapter -->

A Mr. Crawling x Reader fic (that may expand into a series!)

This is the first time that I've written anything like this in the past 5 years, so give me some slack if it's bad or cringey lol (also the first fic on Tumblr!)

Set in the ending (and series of events) where you take him home! I've done a few playthroughs so some parts may not be fully accurate, but I'll do my best!

No warnings-- just some minor cursing here and there. 1.8k words!

Enjoy!

Note: Words in italics are in the ghost language. The blocks represent words reader doesn't understand.

You…

Honestly, you weren’t quite sure what happened these past 24 hours. Half of your now fully-conscious brain had settled on this being some sort of twisted hallucination you experienced after inhaling the noxious spores from some weird mushroom during your bravery challenge. But, the other, half-insane half-sane side of your mind simply cannot deny the manifestation of your nightmares sitting right across from you, a sharp smile stretching from ear to ear and a mop of strangely neat black hair swallowing its figure.

It? He? That, too, was something you didn’t know. Hell, the thing never stood up, and the noises that creaked from its throat were far from human.

But… It was nice. It helped you. It followed you, shielded you, and the pure, radiant happiness it exuded when you proposed, in broken ghostly-language, for it to join you hardly came across as malicious or non-sentient. It had feelings, and while some parts were… wrong, surely, it was owed some sort of humanity, you reasoned.

And so, it became a he, and then a Mr. Crawling-- the highlight of your creativity, truly. You doubted he understood the significance of the slightly different noises coming out of your mouth as you called to him, but still, it was the least you could do.

“... not… go?” He asked, head tilted as he sat patiently on the ground, lanky grayed limbs bent awkwardly into some mix between a w-shape and a regular sitting position. You think he said something else as well, but honestly, you were exhausted, and you hadn’t really had much time to truly learn his language.

“...” You sighed again, looking at him, then your surroundings. You had popped out right where you had started– or somewhere near it, at least, as you recognized the spooky decorations nailed and wrapped around trees. You were back in the forest you had entered before being sucked into… something. At least the light rain had stopped, leaving damp soil and the smell of petrichor to fill your senses instead of the… yeah.

Well, besides, you had nothing on you. Right– it was all in your bag that, for some reason, wasn’t brought alongside the rest of you.

“Need…” you paused, hesitating. How did you say bag? Scrounging through all the corners of your mind left you with a blank, and you searched for the next best thing.

Which would be bucket. Fuck.

Mr. Crawling tilted his head the other way, mouth flattening slightly in what you presume to be confusion. “You… ∎∎∎” he uttered something that didn’t spark a single click of recognition in your brain. “∎∎∎… ∎∎∎. ∎∎∎∎∎∎. Help?”

You gave one nod. “Yeah, help. Uhm… bucket… “ You made the attempt of drawing out what it looked like in the dirt while ignoring the small amount of embarrassment that rose in your chest at your horrific attempt to communicate.

You jabbed at the middle of the drawing of your rather simple bag. “Uh- blood.” You muttered, figuring it was the closest thing to whatever the actual word for red was.

Mr. Crawling frowned a bit, then chirped a “Me help you ∎∎∎ bucket! ∎∎∎ ∎∎∎∎?” With a much more pleasant smile.

You nodded, “Yeah, thanks. Ok, so… I guess we’ll split up?”

Mr. Crawling stared blankly with that dopey smile and you sighed, standing up. You felt a little bad for making a… disabled ghost? Yeah, a disabled ghost do some of the work. Shoeless and possibly pant-less

Damn. You’ve stooped down low these past few hours.

_____________________________

Honestly, you were surprised at just how efficient a disabled ghost was when left in the dark, blind, and in an environment he’s never been in before. Just as you were about to give up and start heading back into civilization, you heard a gleeful, familiar bone-chilling giggle followed by “Me ∎∎∎ bucket blood!”

Your head shoots up, “You did?!” As you rushed off to the bushes where he had wandered off.

You let out a sigh of relief as you spotted the familiar bag, grabbing it from Mr. Crawling’s hands. “Thank you,” you smiled, weary but grateful, as Mr. Crawling giggled once again.

“Happy! Happy!” He said, reaching out to pat your head again.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as well at the unusually tender action, giving your bag a quick once-over to confirm everything was there. When you spotted your phone, you quickly tapped on the screen, letting out a quick breath of relief as it lights up only for it to immediately be followed by a small wince.

Over 50 missed calls and 100 messages… yikes. And with a glance at the time and date, you understood why. Turns out, your sense of time was rather accurate– it had been just over a day since your disappeared.

“Hurt? You hurt?” Mr. Crawling asked, leaning in close to do his ghost-equivalent of looking. Honestly, you can’t be bothered to question why, how, or even what he’s seeing when all you’ve noticed on his face was a deep red wound in place of his eyes.

“No,” You shake your head. “Uhm. It’s, uhm, humans. Humans worry… no– me worry humans.” You explained the best you could, standing up again. Mr. Crawling looks up, confused.

“You safe.” He says, crawling towards you rather slowly. “Humans ∎∎∎?”

You shake your head. “Go together with me.” You say with a bit of force. The desire to get home and in bed overshadows much of anything else that could run through your mind.

Mr. Crawling, however, doesn’t seem to mind your curtness, breaking out into another small fit of uncanny giggles as he follows after you, letting out a small mantra of “Together together together together!”

With half fondness and half exasperation, you trudge on with a smile, feeling like this experience was more akin to a person walking their dog rather than a human leading a ghost to their home. Which… you choose to think about another day. You really, really don’t want to contemplate any more images of your death.

You were so tired.

But, after nearly half an hour of much slower-than typical walking, your patience was wearing thin.

As it turns out, disabled ghosts walk– crawl much slower on slippery, uneven terrain than their familiar concrete floors. You’ve had to slow significantly so that Mr. Crawling wouldn’t get too tangled up in roots and rocks, and a part of you worried for the safety of his bare legs, but every passing glance resulted in a tiny glimpse of smooth, unharmed skin. You assume he was taking extra care to ensure he doesn’t get hurt.

But, still, every passing hour drains your phone’s limited battery and therefore your limited ability to navigate through whatever area of the city you wind up in upon exiting the mountains. You really couldn’t afford to keep slowing down or to risk losing your understanding of where to walk by circling around roots and trees. They had passed most of the decorations by now, leaving only trees and the very faint noise of any rare passing cars.

Eventually, you kneel back down, waving at him to get his attention. “Mr. Crawling.” You hum, watching as he perked up.

“∎∎∎!” He chirped, getting to your position in a few seconds.

“Me…” You hesitate. “... Me you… up.” You said, staring at him to see whether or not he understood. You were sure that, without… a lot of things necessary for life, he would be light enough for you to carry. Sure, you weren’t the fittest of the bunch, but you were healthy and exercised. In fact, you’re sure that your physical health was the only reason you lasted that long in that death trap.

His head tilted, then he grinned. “... Me you ∎∎∎?”

You sighed, contemplating. That was a vaguely familiar word, and you could almost hear something else in your memories having said it.

But before you could actually responded, Mr. Crawling lunged up at you, bringing you down to the ground in one swift motion. You let out a scream, your throat raw and strained by now, but settled in once you realized where you were.

“Mr. Crawling, what are you–?” You let out a half-scream of shock as he began to scoot across the floor with his legs, holding you firmly in his lap, cold yet sturdy arms caging you in.

He giggled, “Me ∎∎∎! Me ∎∎∎ you!”

Your jaw dropped, and then the word clicks– carry! Well, carry or lift or hold– something along those lines. You remembered that decapitated head speaking it. The head that you had left behind in the hands of that… goat thing.

“Me carry you!” Mr. Crawling giggled, and honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that this was twice as slow as their previous pace (an actual snail’s pace) you might’ve just stayed here and squeezed a nap in.

“Wait, no– no!” You wiggled, trying to loosen his arms. You couldn’t– not through sheer force, as his arms felt like stone bricks, but he loosened his hold on his own, leaning in far too close and spewing out a cycle of: “Hurt? Hurt? Damaged? You sad?”

You sighed, shaking your head. Well, at least now you know the word. “No, me carry you. Me carry you.” You said, trying to convey through hand motions that it would be faster.

Then… Mr. Crawling giggled. Laughed. Directly at your face. “You carry me? Me ∎∎∎, you ∎∎∎!”

In your heart, you knew you were being laughed at, and you felt heat rushing to your ears as you sputtered in indignation. “What– listen, I can carry you! You’re not even alive, so you probably don’t have water or blood or any other thing in you that makes you as heavy as–”

“Cute!” Mr. Crawling cooed with another giggle, playing with your ears, his fingers gentle despite how coarse they felt. The coolness of them actually felt… nice against your burning ears.

You balked, “You–!”

Your breath was interrupted as cement arms wrapped around you again and his butt-scooting continued.

“Hey, I– !”

“You ∎∎∎ rest!” He said happily, strong legs picking up the pace and pushing small mounds of dirt across the forest floor.

Well… that was actually amendable. Maybe you’d get to the city before sunrise at this pace.

“Rest rest!” He said, one arm reaching up to pat your head. “You ∎∎∎! You rest! You safe.”

You let out another sigh, though you hardly put any heart into it, leaning against him more as you felt the rhythmic stop and push of him quite literally dragging the both of us to safety.

A disabled ghost… helping a fully-capable human move.

You snort, letting your eyes fall shut.

What has your life become?

And that's all! Thank you so much for stopping by! If you're interested, I just wanted to add some notes for anybody paying a bit more attention to minor details in this fic.

Yes, the reader is exhausted and far too tired to ask why a ghost who "can't use his legs" is currently using them as a motor to propel them across the forest floor. Give them some slack! They nearly died about 3 times lmao. (And I have mentally planned out a timeframe where they realize this exact piece of info)

I am aiming for the reader to be completely G/N (for our rare male players) but I may slip up and call them she/her or accidentally follow the canon a bit too closely.

Honestly, while it is based in Japan, most of my understanding outside of some rare visits comes from anime. So, in my head, the local high school was hosting a bravery challenge up in the forest on the mountains and the reader was dragged along with their friends (reader is a working young adult, ~25 years old). In my world, the city they live in is maybe 40 minutes away from that specific area in the mountains. I'm contemplating making the reader American-Japanese (who resides in the US and visited Japan for a vacation to meet up with old friends, or something like that).

Yes, I know that "bucket" in the ghost language isn't correct (the correct word is "container" or something more vague like that) but I can't recall if the reader gets to go to the SOS room on this route where Mr. Crawler refers to the pencil case/make-up bag with that same word, so their only experience would be learning the word through buckets with Mr. Hood.

I may accidentally call Mr. Crawling "Mr. Crawler." I'm pretty sure I haven't done that in this fic, but this is simply a warning for the future lmao.

That's all! Thanks again!^^

Masterlist Next Chapter -->

Banners by @cafekitsune

#mr crawling #x reader #homicipher #mr crawling x reader #mr crawling x you

235 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 5 months ago

Text

Triggered!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

This was inspired by a Tiktok I saw from the creator CrëëpyKönig (Spooky Vexx)! So if you enjoy please go show them love and please remember to be kind and respectful 🩷 Link attached!

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, bullying, stalking, obsessive König, non-con, p in v, biting, anal, humiliation, recording

1.6k word count

On KorTac’s base, König is known as a bully. He is a massive, arrogant, and aggressive man who always seems to enjoy stepping on those beneath him. When you joined a much smaller woman, you quickly found that you weren’t spared from this treatment.

A year into being a part of KorTac and things with König have only escalated. No one is brave enough to stand up to him, so you’re left to fend for yourself. He uses his height to his advantage as well as setting you off by being incredibly sexist. In his eyes, you’re the easiest target on base.

Underneath your calm exterior, a rage was forming. Yes, you’re small, but you know your own strength. Respect is the only reason you haven’t gone completely crazy on your colonel. Everyone knows he deserves it.

It’s been raining hard these last few weeks, leaving the outdoors training field to turn into a muddy mess. That doesn’t stop the military, though. König has his men, and you, outside running drills back and forth through the slick terrain. Everyone is slipping, unable to gain proper footing; yet it’s when you fall that you hear König’s harsh accent boom throughout the open space.

“Pathetic little girl!” König barks. “Get up!”

As you scramble to your feet, you feel his hands violently lift you before setting you on your feet. You can feel your hands trembling, but not with fear; it’s that rage. König looms over you, yelling down at you as everyone around you stops to watch the vicious verbal assault with looks of sympathy on their faces.

Time seems to slow as you lift your dominant hand into a fist, pulling back and punching König with everything you’d got. His head actually snaps back, causing a loud gasp to echo out amongst the team. Your eyes widen once you realize what you’ve done, you just assaulted your colonel.

König feels a sharp pain, followed by the taste of blood beginning to fill his mouth. This little bitch. His eyes snap down to yours with a look of shock.

First, it was one laugh, followed by a roaring laughter that spread between everyone. The smallest tear slips from König’s eye as they widen, glaring down at you. He looks around quickly, trying to fight back the waterfall of tears threatening to be released. It’s as if he’s eleven again and his entire class is mocking him. For a moment, he isn’t the 6’10 280lb colonel; he’s that chubby 5’9 child that didn’t fit in.

Slowly, his look of shock turns into a wild look of horror. Without another word to you, König leaves. He hurries to his barracks, leaving you alone with an odd feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. A few people come up to you simply to thank you for doing what they’ve been too scared to do. Others make sure that you’re okay.

The events of the day came and went. It was talked about for a while, but you were never reprimanded so no one ever reported you. König has backed off of you, leaving you to believe he simply realizes that you’re not the one to mess with. If only you knew how wrong you were.

Then you begin to notice König almost everywhere you are. He’s never obvious, hiding within the cover or crowds and dark corners of the halls. Almost as if he has become your own personal boogeyman. At the same time, it’s base and your schedules line up, so maybe you’re just being paranoid. Simply noticing him where you never did before because of the deep-rooted fear that he might retaliate one day.

Your first thought is the correct one though. König is everywhere you are, watching every move you make, attempting to familiarize himself with every little aspect of your day to day. Ever since you humiliated him, he’s grown obsessed with you. Not even a fully grown man has ever had the balls to do what you did to him. That day he cried like he hadn’t in a very long time, not since his mother passed.

The desire to own you, forever, consumes his every waking thought. His mind continues to replay the look in your eyes when you hit him, the sounds of laughter, and the taste of blood. He’s obsessed with the idea of getting back at you, making you feel the humiliation and torment he felt in that moment.

König was missing from training today, not that you mind, it was just odd. His job is his life and you’ve never known him to have missed a day. Either way, you felt as if you were finally able to relax and focus on excelling at the tasks at hand.

That very night as you walk back to your room, a recruit you don’t recognize walks up to you with a note in their hand. He holds it out to you, looking into your eyes with a blank expression. You reach out and open it to read that you’re wanting to finish signing paperwork. Confused, you look up, ready to ask a question; but the recruit has left in a hurry.

You look down at your watch to see how late it is, wondering if the people in the offices are even still there at this hour. With a deep sigh you turn and head across base. The sun is setting, the sky a beautiful pale blue color setting a calm tone over the moment.

Upon entering the building, you notice that the halls are empty. Some lights are still on, so you just continue on to the room that was scribbled down. You knock. No answer. You know again and wait before trying the handle. You walk in to see a blinking red light in the darkness. Confused, you linger for a second; long enough for König to reach out, grabbing your neck, and pulling you inside.

You get slammed on to the wall as the door closes leaving you in complete darkness. Short shaky breaths flee your lips as you try to not scream; you know it’s König. A million things are running through your mind as you gaze up in his direction.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to be bold, but your voice cracks.

“You.” König whispers, dragging your body forward and slamming you down on a desk.

Your head hits the cold wood hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears. In a panic you begin to push up against the desk, but it’s no use since König is nearly twice your size. Finally, you realize the blinking light to a camera recording; what is he about to do?

König lets go of your neck and moves his hands all over your body, tracing every curve and contour of your much smaller frame. He completely towers over you, consuming you. Having you underneath his fingers, completely defenseless and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!” You cry out as he begins to strip you of your clothing. His sharp canines dig into your back as he slides your shirt up, pulling a loud scream from you. No one heard you, you're completely alone with this monster.

“You’ve been an arrogant, disrespectful, little slut!” König shouts as he spanks your ass harshly.

He undresses behind you, pulling his pants down to be around his knees. His eyes flick over to the camera to make sure it’s still recording before looking back down at you. Your outline is visible to him as his eyes have adjusted to the dark. He laces his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back to bite your neck. Again, you let out a loud cry making König feel a rush of excitement. The more pain you feel, the more pleasure he feels. He lets go and you fall back on the desk.

“Keep screaming for us, Hase.” He mocks.

Us?

Your thoughts are redirected as you feel his cock slip along your dry folds. You beg him to not do this as your hips squirm back and forth to attempt to get him away. The searing pain of his cock pushing into you causes your body to tense up.

As you lift your abdomen from the desk König slams you back down. His hand remains on your back to hold you there as his hips pull back and slam into you. A soft moan leaves his lips as a pained whimper leaves your own.

“This…” König speaks with a voice laced with lust. “…is what women are made for. To be whores. To be fucked.” He growls as his hips begin to buck forward into you faster.

In infrared, the camera records König’s thick veiny cock slamming in and out of your tight little cunt. The pained look on your face and sad little whimpers coming through perfectly. On the other side of the camera men sit with their cocks in their hands, masturbating to your torment.

“Say you’re a worthless whore.” König demands as he closes his eyes and leans his head back to immerse himself into the pleasure of you.

You say nothing, only angering König more. He pulls out of you, spitting on to his hand to rub on the head of his cock before moving back to you. The tip pushes against your asshole.

“Say it.” He growls once more.

“I- I’m a worthless whore.” You say with a weak voice.

“Ah, good girl.” König whispers as he presses his cock painfully into your ass.

Your humiliation pleases König. Now you feel how he felt when you hit him. How he felt when the squad laughed at him. Now you have thousands of people getting pleasure from watching you getting violated; your small body destroyed in König’s hands.

326 notes · View notes

ghoul-slime · 3 months ago

Text

Ghoul horror movie night: double-feature edition

Thought I'd do another Halloween post similar to the one I did last year about the ghouls' favorite horror films!

Unsurprisingly, Halloween is a big event in the Ministry, and all month-long the ghouls each take turns curating a double feature movie night for the rest of the pack:

Aether: Halloween 3 and Night of the Demons

For Aether, a Halloween double feature means watching movies that take place on Halloween. And which two better than Halloween 3 (yes, the one without Michael Myers) and Night of the Demons? Both extremely fun and packed with delicious Halloween atmosphere. Aether goes all out and decks out the ghoul den with cheesy lights and decorations and makes sure there’s plenty of candy and popcorn to go around.

Swiss: The Devils and Messiah of Evil

Transgressive and blasphemous religious horror from the 1970s. Messiah has a more supernatural element while the Devils, famous for receiving an X rating and being banned in multiple countries, deals with Catholic sexual repression, witchcraft, and religious fervor - a very popular set of subjects in the Ministry. Bonus points for containing a full-on nun orgy scene.

Dew: Dead Alive and Demons

Blood! Guts! Goop! Lawmowers, motorcycles, possessed demonic masks, and zombie rats!! Two of the absolute MOST fun movies to watch with a crowd. Dead Alive aka Braindead (directed by Peter Jackson, yes THAT Peter Jackson) has one of THE most fun, over the top final acts of all time and Demons has an amazing heavy metal soundtrack and the evil mask looks A LOT like the ghouls’ Prequelle masks. Dew knows that these two movies are sure to get the entire pack yelling and cheering at the screen (he is proud of himself).

Mountain: Event Horizon and Galaxy of Terror

Mounty loves his sci fi. This time around he’s picking two space themed horror films that aren’t alien movies. Event Horizon is like Hellraiser in space (but NOT like Hellraiser: Bloodline, which is actually Hellraiser in space). Both films are essentially about inadvertently finding Hell through space travel.

Aurora: Toxic Avenger and Swamp Thing

MONSTROUS, MUTATED ROMANCE. Aurora says if your not a monster fucker or a mutant fucker then you’re a coward.

Phantom: Spooky Encounters 1 & 2

Two Hong Kong martial arts vampire movies! Incredibly fun, great gags, and packed with amazing martial arts stunts by Sammo Hung, one of the greatest martial arts actors ever. Phantom loves his vampire movies, and are some of his favorites.

Cirrus: Blood on Satan’s Claw and Eyes of Fire

Both set in the 18th century, Cirrus loves the unsettling, slow-burn atmosphere of folk horror films, and these two are essential viewing. She insists that anyone that loves movies like The VVitch and Midsommar go back and give these two a watch.

Sunshine: Frankenhooker and Bride of Re-Animator

1990 was apparently the year for wacky Frankenstein re-imaginings. Like most of the ghouls, Sunny loves a goofy, over-the-top horror comedy. Frankenhooker is exactly what it sounds like and more while Bride is a sequel to Re-Animator (she thinks Dan and Herbert should just freaking kiss already).

Cumulus: Lair of the White Worm and Vamypros Lesbos

Two erotic horror films with VERY different tones. Lair is hilarious and choc full of phallic imagery (“It’s a penis movie” - Cumulus) and Vampyros Lesbos is about, well, lesbian vampires. Very sexy and beautifully shot.

Rain: Xtro and the Blob

Two slimy alien movies. Xtro is something that needs to be seen to be believed, and the fact that Rain picked it has Dew beaming (he has taught him well). The Blob, a remake of the 1958 film, has great practical effects. Despite the fact that the Blob is about a giant blob of alien space goo that dissolves humans into a bloody puddle of goop, Xtro makes it seem like a Disney movie. Rain loves to see all the WTF expressions on everyone’s faces (except Dew, who is grinning ear to ear).

Ifrit: The Burning and the Prowler

Slasher films. Ifrit has seen them all. While he thinks slasher classics like Halloween and Friday the 13th are essential viewing, he thinks these two lesser-seen slasher flicks from the 80s are superior.

Omega: Prince of Darkness and the Beyond

Omega is the cosmic horror enthusiast of the bunch. He loves the scientific quantum physics spin on the devil’s return to earth in Prince of Darkness and thinks the Beyond is the best of Fulci’s Gates of Hell trilogy.

Mist: Audition and High Tension

Women who love a little too much. These movies being Mist’s picks have everyone wondering if they should be worried (they shouldn’t, but she wants them to think they should be.)

Alpha: New York Ripper and Torso

ITALIAN SLEAZE. Part giallo and part horror, both of these films are slasher meets murder mystery. Arguably the popularization of giallo in the 70s gave way to the rise of slasher films in the 80s, and these perfectly combine the two subgenres. Alpha and Dew yap about the hypersexualized ultraviolence and dreamy, surreal cinematography in giallo films the whole time (annoying).

#nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #halloween ghouls #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #mist ghoulette #alpha ghoul #omega ghoul #ifrit ghoul #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette

17 notes · View notes

merbear25 · 4 months ago

Note

Hey! Can I have a Germany x Female!Reader for your Spooky Season Event? :D Set in a carnival with a (mayhaps clown themed or something?) haunting. Maybe a rescue and love confession that's SFW or at most softcore! (I watched Killer Klowns from Outer Space recently and I'm still kind of stuck on it, fun movie!)

Heyy!! I'm glad you sent something in for the event! I hope you like what I came up with 💜🧡

Twists and turns down the wet boardwalk, the smell of rain was still lingering in the air. The swirling patterns of colorful lights illuminated the otherwise dark and foggy night. With laughter and music filling the air, there was no reason for anyone to think that something was lurking in the shadows.

CW: SFW, fem!reader, fluff, early stages of relationship, mentions of survival situations, supernatural

Twisted mirrors (Germany)

With the rain having settled, you leisurely walked down the street. Your arms linked and conversation pleasant: the colorful lights danced on your silhouettes as the carnival welcomed the newly defined couple with upbeat music. Rows of games with empty promises of prizes for the strongest and best shooter led to the various rides. Shrieks of giggling joy brought life to the cold night and the crashing of waves in the distance sprayed the salt from the sea.

Your eyes sparkled when you saw a large teddy bear being teased as a grand prize.

“Step right up and try your best! Let’s find the sharpest shooter this side of town!” The man’s eyes fell on you and as a true salesman, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “Prove your skills and win your special lady any prize of her choosing! Only the best of the best can get all five targets.” The extension of his cane made Ludwig’s eyebrow cock.

“Oh, what about that one!” You were overcome with giddiness. That cream colored bear looked like the softest thing you’d ever seen, and knowing that your boyfriend won it for you would make it that much more cherished.

“These games are such a scam.” His pessimism did little to crush your new dream of owning the stuffed animal.

“Eh? Not so sure you can defeat an old man at his own game, huh?” The man poked fun. “Give it a shot!” He laughed at his own joke after gesturing to the BB guns.

When you turned to give him those sad puppy dog eyes, he let out a long sigh before moving towards the booth. “Alright, I’ll get it for you.”

“Shoot all five of the targets in the center and you get that pretty girl of yours any one of those prizes off the top shelf.” A smile that oozed greed spread across his lips as your boyfriend handed him the money.

The thick paper on the first four gave way at the center perfectly, leaving the fifth one to be the deciding factor of whether or not you’d be cuddling up to the plush toy tonight. A sudden shake of the boardwalk caused him to slip and miss the target completely.

“What was that?” Your question came out in a shaky breath.

“What that was was you two not getting that cute bear.”

“Why should that count? That clearly wasn’t anything to do with me!”

“Sorry but those are the rules. You’re more than welcome to pay for another go.” A laugh that was equivalent to nails on a chalkboard got your boyfriend’s blood boiling. You stepped in to reassure him that you didn’t need the bear, and that you ought to just try and enjoy the rest of the evening.

Leaving in a huff, you allowed him to blow off some steam. He didn’t need much to feel better, though: a quick vent, your loving touch, and a soft peck on the cheek was all he needed. Walking to the “Twisting Wonderland of Mirrors”, a low rumble sounded throughout the area.

“Is that thunder?”

“Sounds a bit too high pitched for thunder.”

Not wanting to let something else throw a wrench in your fun, you both walked up and around the black and lime green checkered ramp. It tilted with each step towards the towering entrance—an open mouth of a pale-faced clown with gaudy neon orange hair.

The cavern-like walls of mirrors were lit with dim shades of purple and green. The floors were checkered swirls of lime green fading to white and black the deeper you explored. As you passed each mirror, the funhouse exaggerations got a few laughs out of you, while Ludwig’s demeanor didn’t really falter from mildly amused. However, watching you get a kick out of the silly tricks of the lights and mirrors had him smiling a bit more noticeably.

“Is that a smile I see?” You teased.

“It’s just another trick of the light.” His eyes lingered on your face before he leaned down to kiss you. With such a young relationship, you hadn’t yet said those three words, even though you both felt it strongly.

You stepped forward, letting your fingers trail off his cheek. Admiring the woman in front of him, he hesitated before following behind. There was another shift in the building, making you both lose your footing. When he looked back up, your image appeared to be distorted, blurred even. Reaching out made his heart sink. Thick glass had sealed him off from you. He pounded on the wall, signaling you to turn around, but whereas he had sight of you, you had none. When you turned to face the banging on the walls, you were met with only a reflection of yourself.

Calling out to each other was in vain. Even after being blocked off, other options opened. Taking any chance he could to get to you, each step still felt as if he was being pulled further and further away.

Deeper into the halls of mirrors released a light fog that billowed past your legs. Its chill made you shiver, but with seemingly no way of turning back, you pushed forward. The dimly lit hallways grew darker and the patterns on the floor became more disorienting. Spirals that twisted the very inner workings of your mind worked their way down to your legs. Vertigo set in as the constant changes of your appearance loomed over you and mocked the feeble attempt you were making to escape.

That low rumble returned, rising to a higher pitch as you trudged forward. A barrier against the now ear-piercing screeching was impossible, your hands could only muffle it so much before you cried out in fear. Sinking to the floor, its swirling pattern coiled around you. Black and white snake-like slithers, bolts of lime green surging through the thickening fog, and an abrupt jolt hoisting you into the air.

Flailing limbs that came crashing down on the slick slide to have formed, your nails and feet dragged across the framed mirrors. A searing heat wafted up the corridor and made you wince in pain as it burned your eyes. The smell of sulfur, echoes of sadistic laughter, and the rising heat, all coming to a fever pitch as the mirror below rattled in anticipation.

Pounding on the walls returned. “Go away!” The moisture in your throat was drying up, leaving your screams to be replaced with hoarse coughs.

A roar sent the mirror beneath you to collapse in on itself. Tornado force winds whipped your hair towards the fiery vortex. Shards of glass from above nearly sliced your skin as you clung to the sides for dear life. You begged for mercy when a pair of hands gripped your arm, thinking that a creature tied to this hellish experience had chosen you for a satisfying meal.

“Grab onto me!”

That familiar voice, your saving grace. Without a second thought, you grabbed a hold of him, scaling the sides as he pulled you out of the pit. The agonizing cries and screams from being robbed of its victim flooded the building. Clanks of metal and shattering glass accompanied them as the roof began shifting downward.

Through the jagged frame of a recently destroyed mirror was a flickering exit sign—the only risk worth taking. Flinging open the door to the drizzling outside, the newly wet pavement scrapped at your hands and knees. The raging cries of protest were dying down but would ring in your ears and in your dreams for years to come.

“Are you alright?” He asked while checking you thoroughly.

“Yes, but what about you? You’re covered in cuts.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said breathlessly. His hand went up to cup your face. Stroking your soft cheek with his thumb, his gaze flickered to your lips. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but there was no stopping the collision of your lips.

He pulled you tightly against him in fear of you being taken away from him again. Murmurs of “I love you” were exchanged repeatedly between passionate kisses.

Hand in hand, you journeyed back up the familiar wooden path. A recently packed and colorful carnival was now riddled with nothing but old flyers. The booths that were filled with stuffed prizes were practically all barren, all except for the one with that teddy bear you had your eye on.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he glanced over at you. “I think this is rightfully ours, don’t you?”

You nodded and accepted the gift in a warm embrace. Your heart-felt thank you was more than he could’ve asked for, but those three words you uttered earlier were still the highlight of an otherwise dreadful night.

#halloween event #x reader #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #aph hetalia #aph #hetalia germany #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #hetalia fluff #aph germany #germany hetalia

17 notes · View notes

fridaynightaus · 4 months ago

Text

New AU jumpscare! This one is known as "Lucid Evening Lullabies" (or just "Lucid Lullabies" for short). Inspired by games like Nightmare Ned, American Mcgee's Alice, Among the Sleep, and Yume Nikki (among other things).

This AU begins with Jacob (aka "Boyfriend") coming down with a bad case of insomnia, he doesn't know why or how it happened, but he's been getting less sleep than usual, affecting his performance. His girlfriend Amber (aka "Girlfriend") decides to give him a music box to help him sleep. And sure enough, it works! Just a short tune or two and he's out like a light.

However using the music box had some unintended side effects. As when Jacob falls asleep, he falls into to surreal, vivid, and life-like dreams. But there's nothing bad about that...right?

Well, when there are dreams, there are also nightmares...And opening his eyes will not be enough for him to escape them. He must conquer them, one way or another. For if he doesn't wake up safe and sound...He may never wake up at all...

Anyways. Similar to Alice Madness Returns, Jacob and Amber's outfits change for each night (night's being the AU's version of "Weeks"). Each one of them themed after the dreams, which are in turn are based around the familiar faces and experiences BF has encountered in the past.

Outfit and night descriptions below!

Pajamas

Jacob's default outfit, and the one he always has in the beginning of the dreams.

He wears a blue long sleeved top with white accent lines and buttons, as well as a pocket with a white crescent moon on it. He also wears a pair of long, slightly baggy, blue plaid pants that are tucked into red slippers.

Night 1 ("Sleepy Hollows")

The first night is based on Week 2. It takes place on Halloween night in a suburban town bursting at the seams in Halloween decor and aesthetics, with the trees raining leaves of orange and yellow (think Halloweentown and the town in Hocus Pocus. That is until Jacob, Amber, and the spooky kids come across a decrepit mansion, where inside there are no treats...only a sour trick...

Here, Jacob wears a Jason Voorhees Costume (to match Amber's costume, which is a bit more thematically appropriate given the context. But can also be seen as a reference to Spooksides as his counterpart got his first name after the hockey masked killer). He has the hockey mask on the side of his hide, attached to a black strap. He is wearing a dark green shirt, a dark brown belt, a pair dark blue jeans, black gloves, and black boots which his pants are tucked into. His shirt and pants have (fake) blood stains on them. He is also wielding a fake machete, which has the blade stained with fake blood.

He does actually get to use it at some point, just not in the way one would think when it comes to using a machete...

Night 2 ("Final 'Xamination")

The second night is based on the events Pico's School, and a bit of Week 3. Just from that alone, you can tell this dream's quite closer to home for the little rapper. As a vile invader stalks the building, out of sight...waiting...watching. And a all-too familiar face has noticed that as well, but he's no sweet dream himself...

Jacob's uniform consists of a white, short-sleeved buttoned shirt, a blue tie, a blueish-gray sleeveless sweater. blue pants, and black loafers.

Night 3 ("Rose Fields Forever")

The third night is based on Week 6. With Jacob and Amber finding themselves in a "garden" (It's actually less of a garden and more of a jungle, just replacing the palm trees with cherry blossoms, rafflasia with roses, etc), the denizens welcoming them with open arms. Inviting them to become "hosts" for the upcoming festival to honor their handsome, flowery, idol.But soon they will learn that every rose has it's thorns...and a festival might not be the only thing they'll be hosting...

Jacob's outfit is a ancient Greek-based outfit. With a white tunic with gold accents. a gold belt, a blue toga fastened with reddish-pink gem with a gold base, and a pair of golden sandals. He also has a forget-me-not flower in his hair.

I also have a fourth night planned that centers around Inferno (BF's encounter with Blaze) but I just wanted to do the first three for now while I still try to figure that one out.

#lucid evening lullabies #friday night funkin #fnf au #friday night funkin au #fnf fanart #friday night funkin fanart #fnf boyfriend #boyfriend fnf #boyfriend friday night funkin #friday night funkin boyfriend #tw blood #(( It's fake blood but still ))

17 notes · View notes

studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 year ago

Note

hello hope you have a wonderful day I thought about that weird farmer story and I couldn’t not stop thinking about it and since it is the cursed day that monsters like to come out from you know what I mean Halloween , can I please have a spouse from each of starter valley and expansion and ridgeside village …Jio, finding the farmer sleeping in one of the forests Ponds unconscious from the event of the night while the water is mixing with the blood on their clothes , but as soon as they approach to see if the farmer is hurt, the farmer attack them before falling unconscious again .

and one more thing please continue writing those stories I cannot stop reading them and you’r writing style is wonderful and I hope you have a wonderful and spooky day.

Hello anon 👋 Thank you for your kind words ❤️🫶 I hope you don't mind if I make only vanilla characters, because you get a lot of candidates with mods (feel free to ask again about this then!)

As far as I understand it, you want "a headcanon where Farmer lies unconscious in a pond (the pond is apparently quite shallow like a puddle, or else they'd drown), their spouses find them in that state in the woods, Farmer attacks them and immediately passes out again." Okay, got it! (Hope that's what you meant). Have a wonderful day too! Enjoy! ❤️

_________________________________________

Unfortunately, the Farmer managed to hurt Shane when he, all worried, was pulling his spouse out of the shallow pond. He didn't care about clay, rocks and all kinds of mud, but Shane involuntarily let go of Farmer when they, suddenly attacking, accidentally scratched him on the cheek with their fingernails. He isn't angry tho, just even more worried about them. Now he knows roughly what it was like for the farmer to drag him themself when he was near that cliff.....

Even in this situation, even after the attack, Leah has not lost her composure. The artist realises that her spouse is probably more frightened and confused than she is. Leah will quickly examine them, help them if there are serious wounds, and carry them on her back to at least someone's house. It would be easier to call for help there than in the dark forest.

Penny cried out in despair when she found her missing spouse unconscious, wet, all their clothes damp with mud and blood. And after they suddenly pounced on the girl like a predator, Penny screamed so heartbreakingly that anyone's blood would run cold in their veins. Both fell unconscious (Penny - from horror and shock). People will have to look for the two of them now.

Sam's reflexes are good. As soon as he saw Farmer in the shallow pond and ran to their aid, he bounced like a lynx away from the same Farmer, who woke up abruptly and attacked the confused Sam. Whatever happens, the young musician is determined to help them, even if it means risking his own life. He hopes he has the strength to quickly get his spouse to the Harvey's Clinic in time.

Who would have thought that Sebastian would unwittingly become a horror film character, as in "It Howls in the Rain". Spending an entire day searching for his missing spouse, only to find them near a pond in mud and blood, and then dodging them as they attacked him. But, fortunately for Farmer, Sebastian, even after the shock, will not behave stupidly, as in the same horror films, and will call friends and relatives, asking for help.

Haley froze in horror at the sight of her poor spouse, the way deer usually freeze at the sight of bright car headlights. The girl was paralysed with fear, though she realised they needed help. But no sooner had Haley pulled herself together than the Farmers began to rise from the pond: in torn clothes, wet and....? What was wrong with them? Why aren't they responding to Haley's call? Have they... fell again?! Now she finally came to senses and quickly ran over to them, checking their condition. She need to get her sister on the phone right away and call for help.

Emily couldn't stop praying to Yoba that Farmer would be all right. She was so worried her spouse had disappeared. Now, she finds them by the pond, soaked and bloody. Had they been attacked by forest animals? The wounds aren't too deep, so it's not serious. Of course, she was shocked by the Farmer's attack, but Emily thinks it's just the Farmer not yet realising what's happened. They probably mistook Emily for a forest animal and tried to defend themselves.

Poor Alex feels awful when he almost punched his already injured spouse in the face, but they gave him such a fright! Not only was he worried and digging through almost the entire Valley looking for them, but the Farmer abruptly stood up, all in wet clothes, and attacked him. Truthfully, the fact that they fell unconscious again didn't make it any easier on Alex's heart. Good thing Alex had nice physical strength, so it would be easy for him to deliver his love to the local doctor.

Fight or flight, fight or flight.... Abigail shouldn't have chosen any of these options at all! But after her spouse attacked her near that pond in the night woods, Abby couldn't help herself: her instincts kicked in first. Fortunately, the Farmer's attack ended as quickly as it began, and the purple-haired girl hopes she won't have to fight her own spouse while she's on the phone asking her friends for aid.

Yoba, pity Elliott's poor heart, he's almost grey with fear! All this time to look for his spouse who suddenly disappeared, and to find them here, in the woods, near the pond in dirty and wet clothes?! So now there's this sudden attack. Honestly, Elliott's whole life flashed before his eyes! He'll be screaming for help and waiting for someone to come to him and Farmer.

It was not enough that Harvey had had a mini heart attack when he found his beloved spouse in such a state, but he was about to have a real one when Farmer jumped on him like a wild beast. The poor man is trembling and worried about them, but when it came to treating the wounds, here Harvey showed all his cold-bloodedness. The Doctor realises that even though he himself is frightened by Farmer's physical condition (and maybe even mental), he must help them as soon as possible.

Don't panic.... Just don't panic. You have to give Maru credit, she held up well and didn't panic when she caught Farmer unconscious in the pond. There's a pulse, there's breathing, they even managed to come to their senses (even though they attacked her)... They're alive, and that's the main thing. Now Maru needs to give her dear spouse first aid and call Harvey to report the emergency. The main thing is not to panic...

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv penny #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv abigail #sdv leah #thanks for the ask!#goodnight everyone

75 notes · View notes

amaranthinecanicular · 1 year ago

Text

Pai Cellbit tucks him into bed and tells him stories that one of his other dads would probably think irresponsible. When Richarlyson is sure Cellbit has nodded off next to his bed again, he takes out the book. Reality is interpretation, just like art, the book says. If you show this painting to someone, their interpretation of it could change your reality. “I don’t want them knowing about the painting,” Richarlyson whispers. “Or any of your paintings. I don’t want them to know about you.” Even if it saves Bobby’s life? (In which some tragedies can be avoided. Others cannot.)

[written belatedly for @atthebell, for the @mcyt-halloween event, who requested a spooky Romero Richas fic! So so sorry it's coming in a bit late, and I hope you enjoy! Presenting a bit of a canon au fix-it fic, and a bit of something else entirely.]

Richarlyson paints a portrait of himself that no one will ever see. He uses bright colors and bold patterns. The outlines are thick and black. Every angle is sharp like broken bone.

It’s bright out, clear blue sky. Pai Felps is looking for him. Richarlyson props the portrait up against the wall. He makes sure it’s facing him and makes sure it won’t fall. Then he pulls out the next painting and sets it on fire.

“There,” he says. He keeps his voice down. Felps is nearby, calling his name. The smoke will draw him nearer. “That’s what I think of you and your paintings.”

The portrait smiles at him.

Richarlyson can’t smell the smoke anymore, or hear Felps calling his name. He turns.

The painting is gone. There’s a book in its place. He opens it.

Art is very important, it says. It should be shared with everyone.

Richarlyson slams the book shut. He glares at the portrait. “Not your art. Your art is bad. You’re bad for painting bad things like that. No one should see it.”

The book is in his lap. It’s raining outside, cold and gray. He doesn’t know where Pai Felps is. His portrait is smiling at him.

His portrait isn’t smiling at him. It’s smiling over his shoulder.

Richarlyson is not the biggest hatchling but he’s still a dragon, afraid of bulls and little else. He’s not scared to look behind him. He wishes his dads were with him, or Bobby, but not because he’s scared. He’s not.

He turns. The painting he burned has been remade, bigger and brighter. Roier’s tears fall down his face in electric blue spirals. Bobby’s blood fractals out to the edges of the canvas. The colors clash, lurid and painful to look at.

The best art is born from delusions, says the most recent entry in the book. The craziest interpretations of reality.

“This isn’t reality,” Richarlyson says. He lights the painting on fire and watches the paint bubble and blacken before turning back to his self-portrait. “It’s not real. You’re not real.”

I want to be real. Art speaks to reality. If reality is real only when observed, then when observed, I will be real.

“I don’t want you to be real. I don’t want this to be real! Bobby isn’t going to die!”

Art speaks to reality, the book says again. I’m not the one making it happen. It’s already happening. This is reality whether you want it or not.

Richarlyson smashes his fist into the portrait. Canvas rips. The paint is still fresh and wet.

“Just like I taught you,” a rough voice says behind him.

Pai Cellbit is half asleep on the floor, one arm curled under his head as a pillow. He passed out in his rumpled clothes explaining some of his tamer theories to Richarlyson, after much pleading and nagging, corkboard and thread pinned haphazardly behind him.

He stretches, joints cracking. The sky is dark and deep outside the window. Clear enough to pick out the stars. “What did you just punch?”

“A bad painting,” Richarlyson says.

Cellbit blinks some of the sleep out of his eyes. “Bad how?”

“It wasn’t good enough.” Richarlyson says. Cellbit is still looking at him, and his mouth won’t quit talking. “It was going to be a present. For Bobby.”

Cellbit pats his head with a fumbling hand. “I’m sure he’ll like it. Even if it’s bad.”

Richarlyson punches him. Cellbit laughs.

“Come on, Richas. We have to get you to bed before Forever gets mad.”

“You’re the one who fell asleep,” Richarlyson points out. “He’ll get mad at you.”

“All the more reason.”

Cellbit brings him to bed, tucks him in and tells him more stories that one of his other dads would probably think irresponsible. When Richarlyson is sure Cellbit has nodded off next to his bed again, he takes out the book.

Reality is interpretation, just like art, it says. If you show this painting to someone, their interpretation of it could change your reality.

“I don’t want them knowing about this painting,” Richarlyson whispers. “Or any of your paintings. I don’t want them to know about you.”

Even if it saves Bobby’s life?

The portrait is back. So is the painting of Bobby and Roier and the vindicator. Richarlyson is staring down at them both.

A hand hooks around his ankle. He screams. He’s pulled across the floor—out from under the bed, not in it.

“Found you!” says Pai Forever, grinning wide. “It’s bath time, my dear little Richas, whether you like it or not!” His smile falters. “What’s wrong? Did you fall asleep under there? Have a bad dream?”

Just a bad dream. That’s right. He’s been running from bathtime for hours, and he’s not giving in now. He bites Forever’s hand and scampers off to a symphony of yowls.

He finds a good hiding place, too small for Forever to wiggle into. It’s dark, too dark to see, but his eyes are dragon eyes and they adjust faster than a human’s.

His portrait is waiting for him. So is the painting of Bobby’s death.

Richarlyson’s heart plummets. His hands squeeze into fists, and he looks down to find the paintbrush in his hand.

“What are you?” Richarlyson whispers.

There’s a new book in his inventory. I am a memory, it says. I am a dream. I am nothing. The base of existence is nothing. When nothing exists I take their place. When they die I take their place. When they sleep I take their place.

“Go away,” says Richarlyson. “Go away.”

Just passing by, says the book. Shhh.

He lights both paintings on fire. He doesn’t blink until they’re ash.

“Richas?”

It’s Pai Pac. He’s smiling, silhouetted by sunlight. “Finally found you! This hide and seek arena has more hiding places than we thought, huh?”

Richarlyson looks over his shoulder, but the paintings are gone. Maybe the ash blew away. Maybe the paintings were never there at all.

Richarlyson rubs his eyes and does not cry. Pac pulls him out of his hiding place, cooing and cuddling him close when Richas curls into him.

Over Pac’s shoulder, Mike calls, “Your turn to seek, Richas!”

Pac kisses Richarlyson’s forehead, then sets him down. Richarlyson throws his hands over his eyes and counts to twenty, skipping a few numbers to get there faster.

He uncovers his eyes. He’s staring at his portrait.

Bobby is running out of time :> says the new book. You are all running out of time. Reality is perception. Let them perceive the painting. Do not let them take it. Do not let them sell it. Let them perceive me.

“I don’t want to,” Richarlyson says. He stamps his foot. “That would make it real.”

Art makes me real. But Bobby’s death is already real. You know what I paint will happen. It’s happened before.

The painting of Bobby is sitting right beside it, the paint still fresh. It looks more gruesome every time it’s painted. “Do I have to show them this one?”

This one might save Bobby. But there are others.

Lined up beside the painting of Bobby there is a painting of the lighthouse, and the sea. Another one with all his dads, and all the other dads and moms on the island. That one scares him. He can’t pretend it doesn’t.

“Why do you want to help Bobby?” Richarlyson asks, tearing his eyes back to his cartoonish mirror image. The portrait holds its silence. Richarlyson flips to the next page of the book.

I want to be real, it says, and it says, Bobby is my friend too.

That bites like teeth. Richarlyson bites back. “Bobby is my friend, not yours. I won’t let you scare me into giving him to you.”

He lights it on fire. He lights all of them on fire.

“Aw,” says Roier. “Que haces, that one was really good!”

Richarlyson startles, face to face with Roier, kneeling at eye level behind him. The look on his face is confused and sympathetic. Richarlyson turns again. The only painting there is one of Cellbit and Roier holding hands, with Richarlyson, Bobby, and Jaiden waving in the background. Fire eats through their faces.

Richarlyson swears, and tries to put out the flames. Roier pulls him back.

“Oye, oye! It’s okay! You’ll make another.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Richarlyson says. “Don’t tell Pai Cellbit.”

Roier grins, and holds out a pinky. “He’s not my boss. Our little secret.”

Richarlyson grins back. He likes Roier a lot. Pai Cellbit is the kind of pai who needs looking after, and the kind of looking after that four other pais and one Richarlyson can’t do alone. Roier carries the rest of the weight with a smile, and it makes Pai Cellbit smile too. Richarlyson also likes Roier because he’s cool, and does stuff like this.

He hooks his pinky around Roier’s, and while they’re still in the safety of secrecy, he whispers, “Is Bobby okay?”

Roier’s smile turns confused and sympathetic again. “Sure he is. I think he and Jaiden just—yup, impromptu dance party.”

He points. Not too far away Jaiden and Bobby are hopping up and down, flapping their wings and their arms, wiggling like worms, bouncing and spinning. Bobby dances so hard that both straps of his overalls fall down his shoulders.

Roier scoops Richarlyson up. “Come on, we don’t want to be left out!”

Bobby whoops and hollers when he sees them coming, and Richarlyson leaps out of Roier’s arms to run the rest of the way. He laughs and dances the portrait and the paintings and the books right out of his mind. Bobby grabs his hands and they spin and spin and spin until they fall down laughing, and the sky keeps spinning above them.

“Hey, Richas?” Bobby says, catching his breath. Richarlyson closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of him. His brother. His best friend. “Are you awake?”

Richarlyson opens his eyes. He’s in bed, staring at his portrait.

Today is the day :> All stories must end, or we distort their reality, says the book in Richarlyson’s inventory. Or we kill them.

“Stop,” Richarlyson says. He shuts his eyes and opens them. The portrait is still there. So is the horrible painting of Bobby’s death, and the painting of the lighthouse, and the one of all their parents. “Please stop.”

Do not despair, says the book. I am comfort.

Comfort is Forever doing his hair. Cellbit letting him pin the red string to his corkboard. Pac knocking their legs together. Bedtime stories with Felps. Mike calling him an old man. Roier carrying Bobby on one shoulder and Richas on the other until they’re so tall they can almost see the whole island.

“Shut up,” he says. He thinks of Pai Cellbit, what he would do. “I’ll beat the shit out of you. I’ll kill you.”

The portrait smiles at him in jagged lines.

“Bobby won’t die,” Richarlyson says. “He won’t, he’s big and strong and he has a gun and he won’t die.”

He turns around. He’s in his room. He’s alone.

The book lies open in front of him.

HE ALREADY DID ONCE.

“Richarlyson?”

Pai Cellbit. Richarlyson shoves the canvases under his covers. Even if he didn’t get to burn them, the covers will smear them beyond recognition. The painting of Bobby is last, and it’s in his hands when Cellbit walks in.

“There you are.” He smiles, small, the way only Pai Cellbit does. “You’re covered in paint.”

“It’s Bobby’s blood,” Richarlyson blurts.

Cellbit’s smile fades.

“I—I mean—in this painting. It’s his blood there. He—he isn’t…” he trails off.

“Okay,” Cellbit says slowly. He comes and sits on the bed. If he lands on a wet spot of paint, he doesn’t show it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

No. He wants to pretend it didn’t happen. Wants to pretend it will never happen. Wants to pretend that everything will be alright, and they will all be together, always.

His portrait said today.

Just one, he thinks. Just this one. None of the others.

Instead of answering, he turns the painting around. Cellbit’s eyes rove over it in little flicks. Richarlyson scrutinizes his face as he takes it in, watching for judgment or fear, but Cellbit only has that intense look he gets when he’s investigating. It makes Richarlyson feel better, marginally. Like he’s being taken seriously.

Cellbit’s eyes rise to Richarlyson’s face, and whatever he sees there solidifies his conclusion. “You think this is going to happen?”

Richarlyson nods rapidly. “Today.”

Cellbit’s eyebrows twitch higher on his forehead. “Today?”

“Can we find them?”

“Right now?”

“Right now right now.”

Cellbit’s eyes soften. “Right now.”

He messages Roier for his location, then starts strapping Richarlyson into his armor. Richarlyson doesn’t complain once. They head out, Cellbit hurrying because Richarlyson is hurrying, dread sinking in him like stones with every step. If they don’t make it in time, will it be Richarlyson’s fault? He could have shown his pais the painting any time, any day. They have to make it in time. They have to.

Roier and Bobby are exploring a dungeon. Just before they get there, Cellbit’s communicator starts rattling and doesn’t stop. He glances down at the messages stacking up, doubletakes, and then sets his mouth in a grim line. He picks Richarlyson up and runs the rest of the way, and at the entrance to the dungeon, he puts him down.

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ve messaged Forever and Jaiden. They’re on their way. I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll bring them back. Espere aqui.”

There’s an intent gleam to his eye that Richarlyson knows not to question. He opens his mouth to question anyway, because it’s Bobby, and he’s in trouble, and Richarlyson can’t just let him die, not when it’s his fault—

But Cellbit is already lunging in, and Richarlyson is alone.

He waits for minutes that feel like hours, and then he dashes after him. He’s not fast enough. Before he can get too deep Forever catches up to him and drags him back outside. Jaiden dashes past them both.

Richarlyson kicks and bites, but Forever just holds him, scolds him, sings to him. Still Richarlyson fights, and then he starts to cry, and then he fights some more. He catches Forever with a kick to the inside of his knee, and manages to slip free while Forever crumples and swears. Richarlyson sprints for the dungeon and nearly crashes into Jaiden’s knees as she runs back out.

She looks frenzied and furious, Bobby cradled in her arms. Cellbit and Roier stagger out behind her, supporting each other. As soon as they emerge into open air Roier pushes off of Cellbit and collapses at Jaiden’s side. They lay Bobby out. He’s pale and still and covered in blood. He looks smaller than Richarlyson has ever seen him.

Forever picks Richarlyson up again. This time Richarlyson clings, unable to look away from Bobby and his parents. He hears Forever say to Cellbit, “What was it?” and he hears Cellbit say back, “A vindicator. I think we got there in time, but…”

He trails off. Jaiden and Roier are pouring potions down Bobby’s throat, rubbing his back and whispering to him and petting his hair. For the longest seconds of Richarlyson’s life, Bobby doesn’t move.

And then he does.

It’s a whirlwind of potions and tears, then, and Richarlyson is too busy bursting into tears to remember most of it. Roier and Jaiden are crying too. But he’s alive. Bobby is alive.

When it’s over, everyone is too strung out to endure interrogations, and Pai Cellbit takes mercy. He kisses Richarlyson’s hair and sends him off with Forever, despite how badly Richarlyson knows he wants to ask questions. Then he follows after Roier and Jaiden and Bobby. Richarlyson wants to go with them, but both Cellbit and Forever agreed that it’s best he and Bobby get some rest.

“It was a stressful day,” Forever says. “You can see Bobby tomorrow.”

Forever takes him home and tucks him back into bed, and climbs in after when Richarlyson asks. Soon he’s snoring, his bare torso covered in paint, and Richarlyson is creeping off the bed and crawling under it. He threw the paintings down there when Forever brought him in: the portrait and the lighthouse are smeared beyond recognition, but the painting of all the parents is still relatively clear. If anything, the few smudges make it all the more horrible. Frowning faces become grotesque masks, tears bleeding down the canvas. He doesn’t know why it upsets him so much. After the gruesome depiction of Bobby’s death, this is tame. It’s just their parents standing on the island. Nothing more sinister than that.

But Richarlyson isn’t in it. Neither are any of his siblings. And all their parents are crying.

He told himself that he would only risk showing his pais one of the paintings, and he meant it. A fire would wake Pai Forever, so he rakes with his claws until the canvas is nothing but ribbons. Nothing but a bad dream. Nothing but that.

He climbs back out from under the bed and half-expects to emerge somewhere and somewhen else, with different weather and different company, but Forever is still snoring, covered in paint with his hair wild across the pillow. Relief puffs out of Richarlyson, and he scrambles back onto the bed and into his pai’s side.

Just before he nods off, he remembers to check the notebook.

I see a distant island with a lighthouse and a bell, the notebook reads. Clouds and the sea…a sea that reflects the dark sky…the beaches…

And nobody leaves this place.

#mcyt-halloween #qsmp fic #richarlyson #romero richas #cellbit #forever #qsmp bobby #favela five #ran's writing

40 notes · View notes

nosnet · 26 days ago

Text

Dance With the Devil

by J. D. Dennis

Time Period: 2028

Perspective: Vyxen

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: Blood, discussions of the demonic, Baalii

Word Count: 1,865

Comments: This was originally written as a buffer between two campaign arcs to explain why certain PCs got certain fire powers. However, that the first arc of that campaign is dubious at best and the second is entirely canned, so this is now just an Event that happens – but at least it happens. And hey, it canonizes the absolute worse NPC we’ve ever had.

They had no idea if their plan would work, but they had done weirder things before.

It was almost three in the morning, and there was a light rain falling. They had found an abandoned building, the dark, empty chambers perfect for summoning demons. The shadows pressed at the corners, danced just out of sight, playing with their vision – which was exactly the kind of spooky they wanted for the whole thing. They’d drawn a pentagram, as large as they could make it, and they were covered in the blood from the attempt, up their arms and over their knees and clinging to the hem of their dress. It was in pig’s blood, of course, because vitae was far too precious for arts and crafts, but it was definitely in blood and not paint. They had no idea if it needed to be in blood, but they figured since they were attempting dark demon magicks, anything less was probably subpar. There were candles at each point, incense in the middle, and music playing from their phone in a cup in the corner. It was heavy metal, because they couldn't find anything darker on Youtube.

There was no indication that this was even necessary, to be honest. They could have just texted him - but they knew he craved the drama. They all did, in their own way.

“Hey, jackass!” Vyx called, loudly. They were sitting in the center of the circle, covered in blood, waiting. Their hair was dark and braided, their eyes a dull red, their dress originally white but now a dark red from the blood. They didn’t need to look like that - they could alter their appearance at will by then, changing their hair length and color without issue, or their eyes in a blink - but they, also, craved the drama. They sat, cross legged in the middle of the circle, metal playing in the background, impatiently waiting. “You gonna make a girl wait or what?” They snapped. There was silence except for the music for a moment, just the base of the metal, and then suddenly, it changed. It was dark, suddenly, demonic chanting blaring from the speakers at a volume Vyx didn’t know their phone could hit. They turned around, looking to the door, and sighed. There, standing just inside the threshold, emaciated and slouching to fit through the door, was the misshapen man they’d been looking for.

“My apologies.” He grinned, mouth full of sharp teeth, one arm hanging lower than the other, his voice the hiss of the snake in the Garden of Eden, tempting and strange. He ducked through the door, pulling up to his full height on the other side. He was never a particularly pretty Kindred, but Vyx could respect the effort he’d put in to cultivating the most unpleasant, uncanny and creepy façade he could. “The traffic was a mess.” He spoke slowly, soothingly, something strangely sincere about his voice. Vyx didn’t balk, however - they knew that the Devil never lied.

“Yeah, well.” Vyx pushed themselves to their feet, brushing off their dress. It didn’t really do much to make it cleaner, but the movement was reflexive and felt nice. “Figured you’d try and show up promptly to someone who wants to make a deal.” They crossed their arms, cocking one hip to the side, and Ilya Illustra grinned.

“Oh?” He asked, stepping forward to the edge of the circle. It was a strange image, the man they summoned standing off to the side of the circle with them inside of it. It was like they were being protected, though that was clearly not the case - they knew if they got into a fight with the other, they’d lose. But they had no intentions of fighting. “What kind of deal?”

“Not me becoming a Baalii, before you get all excited. I don’t wanna see that shit.” Vyx waved off the idea with a hand, but Ilya didn’t react either way to the words. He just shrugged, stepping around and off to the side, making Vyx turn to follow his movements. He was pacing, slowly, watching Vyx talk with a curious eye but a relaxed posture. Vyx, for their play, didn’t turn, following him with their head until he’d passed from their sight and then catching him again when he passed around, unconcerned when he was behind them. They could have spun their head around like an owl, but the room was creepy enough without them trying to copy the Exorcist. “You and I both know that if I lose the ability to interpret the world like I do right now, I’m fucking useless.” Vyx wasn’t mincing words or playing games, and they could hear Ilya chuckle lightly behind them. They were referencing the fact that they had Cassandra like prophetic visions amid the acid trip hallucinations of the world, an effect of their bloodline. It had been put to impeccable use, before, and they knew they had nothing else to offer beyond it.

“I wouldn’t say you’d be useless.” Ilya’s protest was light, not really pushy - nothing he ever did was really pushy, as it wasn’t true devotion to his side if they didn’t want to do it themselves, after all - but still a protest. “Nothing is ever truly useless.”

“Yeah, yeah, mince words, whatever. My point is, I’m not doing that.” Vyx sighed. They didn’t mind the protest, and honestly expected it - the Devil always argued. That’s how it worked in every iteration. They entirely expected the temptation. “But I want something from you, and I want to know the price.” They paused, and Ilya paused in front of them, having paced the full circle during their talks. He didn’t move, uncannily still, watching Vyx carefully, considering them with interest. They shifted their weight in the pause, watching Ilya right back, returning his curious gaze with their own steeled one. “I want to learn Damonion.” They said, sharply. Ilya watched them, his face unchanging and unfazed.

“Ah.” He said, shifting slightly where he stood, a spark of something – desire? Who knew – behind his eyes. “I imagine my most recent childe told you no, and that’s why you’re coming to me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and Vyx sighed slightly at the implications.

“You know how he is about sharing and secrets.” They shrugged. “So - what’s the price? Know that if I don’t like it, I still haven’t asked Dan, so you’re not my one stop shopping experience. I can go elsewhere.” They hadn’t let up on the steeled face, and Ilya grinned. It was dangerous, and feral, but Vyx didn’t react. It was honestly kind of amusing, how Vyx talked to him, how they didn’t fear him. He didn’t mind the lack of fear, of course - whether people feared him or not did nothing to actually make him more powerful, and he was incredibly capable by himself - but it was interesting, watching them. Five foot five inches of spite and fire and vitriol, standing up to a seven foot tall demon who was leagues ahead of them in power - it was like watching a mouse stand up to a tiger.

“You can ask Dan, as long as you’re content with the basics.” Ilya shrugged, starting around the circle again. “But if you want to know the true power of the discipline, you’ll want to go through me.” He cut his eyes towards them, but they didn’t react, and he shrugged, continuing. “Your price?” He paused a moment, thinking. Or he was feigning thinking, and Vyx just couldn’t tell the difference. It was hard to tell, sometimes, if he was faking it or not. “Bring me someone to replace you.” He said. There was no change in tone to affect the words, but there was a gravity to the air, something official about it. “If you’re not going to become a Baalii, you’ll need to bring me someone in your stead. Preferably someone who’s already Kindred, and who does blood magic.” He turned to face Vyx, finally, watching for their reaction for any change, but they, surprisingly, didn’t balk.

“Just one?” They cocked their head, like this was a surprise. “Huh, cheaper than I thought, but considering I’m fucking broke, I’m not complaining.” They shrugged. “Yeah, I can deal with that. You got a deadline? I know the Devil waits for no man, so I’m gonna aim for sooner rather than later, but if you’re skipping out of town before I can, I want to know.”

“The sooner you pay, the more you’ll learn.” Ilya didn’t seem fazed by the idea of a time crunch, his posture still so easy. “But the pay will get you the same amount of content, no matter how long it takes. I can teach you so much, of course, but this bill will get you to the point where you’ll need to start making… other deals.” He shrugged, and Vyx knew what he meant. They knew that, at some point, the discipline required them to start making deals with demons - real and proper demons - though that wasn’t anything they wanted. “Dan abandoned the practice long before that point. Damon, well…” Ilya seemed slightly proud with the shrug. “He couldn’t resist another deal. We can renegotiate when you decide to follow in Damon’s footsteps.”

Vyx sighed. “Yeah, nah, but thanks. I’m making just the one deal.” They shook their head. Ilya shrugged, like it was their loss. “I’m just a hodgepodge of things I didn’t know, so I figure, why the hell not. Two of my friends who I’d trust to save my ass when needed are Baalii, and I don’t think anyone else I’m dating minds, so who the fuck will care anymore, right?” They huffed, finally putting a little of their front down. “I’ve got so much of me to hide these days I might as well have fun with it, right? Like, if people are gonna hate me for being me, I might as well own it.” They shrugged, and of all things, Ilya seemed to understand the sentiment. It was strange, sharing that emotion with a man who was more demon than vampire, but they didn’t dwell on it. “So, when I get this payment, do I gotta… like, do this again?” They referenced the circle, and Ilya chuckled.

“No, that’s not necessary.” He said. “I appreciate the attention to detail, but the pentagram didn’t really do anything. I just happened to be in the area.” He shook his head, pulling out a card from an inner pocket and passing it. Vyx had to step forward to take it, which was strange, as his lopsided arm was long and strange. “When you get my new childe, just message me, and I’ll be around to collect.” He withdrew his hand, and Vyx nodded, stuffing the card into their pocket. “Give Damon my regards.” He said, and Vyx barely got the time to nod before he was suddenly just…. Gone. They sighed, looking to the floor, and the blood, and the time they’d wasted putting it together.

At least he said yes.

#vtm #ttrpg #vampire the masquerade #fiction #malkavian #j. d. dennis #vyxen rivera #trouble with tremere #ilya illustra

0 notes

free-for-all-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Obscure Characters List - Female Edition (N-Z)

Obscure Characters I love for some reason - Female Edition (N-Z). (By obscure I mean characters that have little to no fanfic written about them. Not necessarily characters nobody’s ever heard of.) Don’t ask me to explain why. UPDATED: I had to split these up into separate posts because tumblr is being a butt about post length or something and won’t let me add more to either list idk.

Nepheli Loux (Elden Ring)

Ophelia (Hamlet)

Pannochka/Young Girl/Witch (Viy)

Peaches (2001 Maniacs)

Pearl (Pearl)

Pin-Up Girl (The Strangers)

Princess Daphne (Dragon’s Lair)

Princess Gemstone (Laid to Rest 1 & 2)

Princess Una (Stardust)

Queen Akasha (Queen of the Damned)

Queen Jadis the White Witch (Chronicles of Narnia series)

Queen Marika the Eternal (Elden Ring)

Queen Rennala (Elden Ring)

Rain (Blood Fest)

Rebecca de Winter (Rebecca)

Rebecca Owens (The Mortuary Assistant)

Riley McKendry (Hellraiser 2022)

Rose Vanderboom (Rusty Lake Roots)

Samantha Quick (Nancy Drew, The Silent Spy)

Sarah Bellows (Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark)

Sarah Fier (Fear Street series)

Sarah Martin (Night Trap)

Scream Symbiote (Marvel Comics)

Selene (Underworld series)

Shilo Wallace (Repo! The Genetic Opera)

Sinead Lauren (But I’m a Cheerleader)

Sonya (Underworld series)

Sophia Anne Lester Crain (The Haunting of Hill House novel)

Spooky (Spooky’s House of Jumpscares)

Stacy (Vampires)

Tanith (Elden Ring)

The Doll (Bloodborne)

The Queen of Light (Mirrormask)

The Queen of Shadows (Mirrormask)

Thorn/Sally McKnight (Scooby Doo)

Valerie Page (V For Vendetta)

Violet Baudelaire (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

Wick (Devil’s Carnival)

Winnifred “Winnie” Foster (Tuck Everlasting film)

Young Woman/Lucy/Louisa/Lucia/Ames (I’m Thinking of Ending Things)

#Obscure characters list #Obscure characters #Obscure fictional characters #will be added to over time

0 notes

ladydragonkiller · 2 years ago

Text

I've been re-listening to some early tma and noticed some interesting lines from episode 2 with everybody's fave Joshua Gillespie.

everyone loves him because he just decided he was going to live with the coffin. improvise adapt overcome. wake up finding you're opening the spooky lock? freeze the key. he got so used to the big ole moaning coffin chilling in the living room that it didn't even freak him out anymore

(image ID: screenshot of the transcript of MAG 002: Do Not Open, reading as follows: I lived like that for almost a year and a half. It’s funny how fear can just become as routine as hunger – at a certain point I just accepted it. My first clue that my time keeping the coffin was coming to an end was when it began to rain and there was silence.)

but as I was chilling along with him, I realized that some of this seemed familiar. in fact, it rung a bell in my head connected to one of the episodes that is generally considered the scariest from tma. that's right - 086: Tucked In

(Image ID: screenshot of the transcript of MAG 086: Tucked In, reading as follows: Last night I woke up like before. I sensed it there, but as I raised the covers over my head, I realized that I wasn’t worried. Fear had given way to routine. I lay there, warm and protected, and simply waited to fall back to sleep. But this time, what I felt instead was a sudden weight pressing down on the end of my bed.)

Benjamin Hatendi handled the situation pretty similarly to Joshua Gillespie! He had a terrifying thing happening to him, slowly got used to it, and there is NO REASON that his circumstances worsened while Josh got off scot-free

and honestly, that just makes things scarier. tma has a big theme of arbitrary things happening that just screw someone right over, with no rhyme or reason to them. it's even just said out-right in 160!

(Image ID: screenshot of the transcript of MAG 160: The Eye Opens, reading as follows: It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.)

of course, the web contradicts this imagery somewhat. there isn't a lot less random than "giant metaphysical spider puppeting around all the events to make things go according to plan". but that's only one out of 15 entities, so I think the idea holds

don't really have a meaningful conclusion to all of this, just a bunch of thoughts that I wanted to exorcise from my head.

#new sitcom where joshua benjamin the shadow monster and the coffin are all roommates when #just two normal guys and their eldritch buddies #the coffin and shadow monster don't do anything to fit in with the sitcom format #but there's a laugh track and that's what counts in the end #all made by cane studios #tma #the magnus archives

327 notes · View notes

dat-town · 2 years ago

Text

pretty little monster

Characters: hunter!Taehyun & female OC

Setting & genre: supernatural au, bits of horror, based on the Korean folk tale 'the fox sister'

Summary: What makes a monster? What if you're one, too?

Warnings: lots of mentions of blood, murder, cannibalism (as in eating human liver), character death, emotional manipulation, ambiguous ending

Words: 5.2k

Author’s note: this is my part for the happily never after halloween collab by @soobism and @svhnflwr, check out the other authors and have a nice spooky season! ^^

OC is a gumiho (fox spirit) of Korean ethnicity since the story is set in Seoul and to honour the origin of the fairy tale. other than her past, the historical places, events and figures mentioned in the story were real.

She came like a heart attack: breathtaking and out of blue.

She was a vision painted with blood: her body wrapped in a red one piece dress with red high heels, her crimson lips in a wicked smile and her midnight hair in waves. She smiled like mischief, her eyes promising fun as she asked:

"Have you heard the tale of the fox girl who ate her parents and brothers in order to live?"

"I don't believe in fairytales," her company dismissed her question as if it was a silly little thing, something he shouldn't have cared about. Oh, yes, people these days were just like that. Long gone were the days when people called shamans and made talismans upon seeing her vulpine features. Long gone was the time when they stood a chance. Against beings like her.

"But you believe in business," the girl, no older than twenty on the outside, noted like she knew something he didn't. The conglomerate heir pursed his lips and ran a hand through his silky hair, his Swiss watch glinting under the lights. He hated when it wasn't him who had the leverage, so he watched her warily. She carried on with a sweetened smile, granulated like sugar cubes but only half as sweet as poison. "You believe in balance: eye for an eye, life for a life, don't you?"

"What does it have to do with anything?” He tilted his head, confused but curious, his eyes scamming through her perfect porcelain skin and rosy lips. Not for the first time since the mysterious girl took a seat beside him in one of Gangnam's fanciest bars did the young man look at her with interest.

"Everything, handsome, everything," she hummed with a chuckle, her earrings flashing gold just like her eyes under the chandelier's light.

The smallest of her movements were like hypnosis and her laughter was like a siren’s song, drawing the young man in. Like a moth to the flame, the guy was immediately attracted. Stupid like most of them were, he thought it was his idea: paying for her drinks, making small talk, asking if she wanted to get out of this place. So easy, so predictable and all it took was one compliment and a little mystery.

Outside, the night was buzzing, like a vein pulsing with adrenaline and excitement. The clouds were hauntedly dark above and the smell of rain was still almost tangible in the air. Mainstream music’s sound was pouring out onto the streets, mixing with noises of cars passing by. The cry of pain was just another in the cacophony of the wild city and by the time they discover the pool of blood and the body in the parking lot, it would be too late.

A life for a life; or rather a thousand.

Only one more to go.

Taehyun dumped the contents of a trash bin into the container behind the diner with a sigh. Too bad hunting down monsters didn't pay the bills or else he surely wouldn't have worked an underpaid job like this. But this one he could at least take with his lack of working experience and tendencies to call in emergencies every other week. Emergencies as in a vampire caven spreading, incubi disturbing people, kelpis attacking near the Han River or…

“We have a new case,” Jungkook told him over the phone. Taehyun held the device between his ear and his shoulder, humming as he acknowledged the news and to signal that he was listening. He was just too busy focusing on not dumping everything else into the dirt.

"What's it about?" He grunted, throwing the last trash bin in.

"Rich guy found dead in a parking lot in Gangnam," his partner told him, panting as if he was in the middle of a run. Wouldn't have been surprising, Jungkook liked to listen to police radio frequencies during exercise.

"If he was mobbed, it's hardly our case. Let the police do their job for once," Taehyun laughed and put the phone to his other ear as he straightened his back. Yesterday's rain was still pooling out on the streets under his boots as he was walking back through the staff's door.

Jungkook was silent for a moment too long, the boy knew that it could only mean that he was about to tell him why it was their case after all. It was usually some gruesome reason, something unexplainable or even horrid. Something like…

"He wasn't just missing his wallet. He was missing a liver," his hyung said, quiet, knowing that it said enough.

Taehyun stopped in his tracks, frozen, his fingers gripping the phone tighter. There was no need to be told more. He knew what it meant. He knew what kind of monster lived on livers. The liver of men especially.

"How new is it?"

"Just yesterday. She must still be around," Jungkook said and Taehyun hung up the phone. He threw off his silly apron that served as his work uniform and didn't even bother to properly fold it before shoving it into his locker. He grabbed his backpack and made a run for the metroline heading to Gangnam.

Jungkook texted him the location and details of a police file, a medical report about the organ that was removed as if it was clawed out by an animal. The DNA found from the female hair on his jacket didn't match anyone's in the database as if she didn't even exist but Taehyun knew she did. Foxes don't creep into the busy downtown of Seoul to eat the liver of young and rich guys, not real foxes at least.

Taehyun had been obsessed with gumiho cases over the years, so he knew the pattern: glitter and riches that lured them in, livers going missing during when the moon was the fullest and then nothing. Usually the attacks happened in batches, around one place, the taste of blood made these creatures insatiable. Human liver kept them alive and young, it was easy to get high on that feeling and the boy hoped that it would make the fox careless enough to make a mistake.

A mistake that would help him find her before she would disappear like smoke. Again.

He had spent the night lurking around the murder scene, asking around as if he was just a clueless passerby who had seen the police cordons. He had already gotten used to being treated like a kid and not taken seriously, so it wasn’t surprising that nobody thought it would be harmful to tell him what they knew. He might not have gotten into the fancy clubs and luxurious hotels around to be able to find the girl in red whom the victim had been seen with last night, but little did he know that he didn’t need to try so hard.

"Looking for me?"

A girl singsonged and slid into his booth as he was sitting in a definitely overpriced coffee shop in the area, his table full of newspapers, notebooks and coffee stains across the papers. From an outsider point of view he must have looked like a university student studying overnight for his exam but instead of books and study materials, he was reading about murder cases and folklore.

Taehyun looked up from his phone, his gaze settling on the stranger and her smile, red like berries. She wore all black: tight jeans, turtleneck, leather jacket. Even her nails were dark, her eye makeup cat-like and her hair up in a high ponytail. She looked like a model out of a magazine, or one of those customers at his workplace who thought everything revolved around them, daddy’s little princess.

“Sorry?” He decided to play dumb, just to be safe and the girl smiled like adults smile patiently at children who lie about their wrongdoings.

“You know, I could get you reported for stalking,” she said, drumming on the table with her pretty manicured nails, slowly, calculatingly. Her lowkey threat made the boy raise a brow and put down his phone on the table.

“Then why don’t you?” He wondered out loud like a challenge as he tilted his head. He leaned back in his seat, sliding his right hand into his pocket casually. Fingers touching metal, he contemplated.

The girl smiled at him like a predator and reached over the table, her index finger tapping his chin teasingly. Her touch was cold, it sent shivers down his spine just as much as the look in her dark eyes.

“Because you are pretty,” she said, sounding genuine and Taehyun furrowed his brows. He had never been called pretty, didn’t particularly want to be either but coming from someone who looked as beautiful as her, it was quite a compliment even if it was fake, just sweet words to get onto his good side or even just get some reaction from him. Though, it was certainly an interesting tactic to call guys who were acting suspiciously pretty. She didn’t seem afraid at all and that was what took the boy aback the most.

She giggled when he didn't answer, it was almost pure, childlike as if she had fun. She must have been used to making men breathless with just being. But there he was holding back because he didn't want to make a scene, to sink a dagger into her heart in the middle of a coffee shop and she knew that, that's why she was so reckless.

“Oh, you look surprised. Cat got your tongue? Didn’t expect somebody so pretty like myself? It’s alright, my father didn’t name me Ahreum for no reason,” she noted, her voice tingling gleefully like a chime of bells in the half-empty store, the shadows that the late night drew onto her figure dancing around her like butterfly wings.

If Taehyun wanted to be honest, he actually didn't expect somebody so human. Some monsters wore human faces – vampires, sirens, shapeshifters – but there was always something off about them, something inhuman – like sharper teeth, glowing eyes, pointy ears – but she looked normal. She was generations old and yet she looked his age, her smile fresh but calculating, her skin immaculate and her eyes, they were the deepest of dark. She didn’t look like a monster. But Taehyun knew better than to trust looks. Especially alluring ones like hers.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty you are,” he said firmly. In the eyes of death, nothing so mortal and earthly mattered.

“Oh, so you admit that you find me pretty,” she smiled a sly smile, very much enjoying the situation as if that was the most important. “But you are lying. It does matter. People always act more generously towards those with a beautiful face no matter how rotten they are inside. Humans are so judgemental, you see, but they only look at the surface, the outside. The gold and glitter and beauty. Prove me wrong if you can.”

Of course, he couldn’t. But Taehyun wasn’t there to talk about philosophy and what it was like to be human. He was hunting down a monster, someone who killed not one but probably hundreds. Someone like the monster that had taken his family away from him. He was there to stop her, yet his hand was frozen over the pocket knife, watching each of her mesmerising moves like a man struck. Sure, he wasn’t used to turning creatures into dust and smoke in front of an audience but who knew when he would have a chance like this again? When would he find her by his own accord? Why did she even seek him out? To tell him he was pretty? It didn’t make any sense. Was she hoping he would give up on the hunt once seeing her just because she was pretty? He wasn’t that generous. Hence he couldn’t figure out her reason.

“What do you want?” So he asked, keeping his eyes on her, not letting any of her glamour cloud his judgement, not even the small, content smile in the corner of her lipstick-stained lips.

“Oh, so straightforward, so boring. I just want to have fun,” The girl sighed, wishful, before she resumed the drumming on the table, over his notes, her fingers slowly crawling over the back of his hand that rested over the wood. Her nails scratched his skin lightly but it burnt, the contact. The grip of Taehyun’s other hand tightened around his knife hidden under the table, in his pocket. She was either unaware or didn’t care. She smiled knowingly.

“A hunter, are you? It's been a while since I met one,” she commented, not waiting for his confirmation. She was talking lightly as if they were discussing the weather and not supernatural matters. Not death. “I don't like them around my prey, you see, your kind makes them anxious. But I do like some excitement. I will give you a clue about my next victim, how does that sound?”

Oh, now she sounded positively thrilled. Her eyes also glowed with something childlike and yet dark. Taehyun was both intrigued and disgusted by her idea of fun.

“It's all just a game for you?” He questioned, sickened and the monster pouted like a kid who couldn’t get the last candy.

"Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill. I have lived long enough, I deserve some fun," Ahreum said, nails digging sharper into the boy’s skin before she let go, her smile devilish like damnation.

"So is it still hunting season?" He asked and her lips twitched.

"It always is. Here’s the clue: I kept my special one for the full moon and you know the fox sister’s tale, right? Then you’ll know where to find me.”

Her voice was haunting and with that, she was gone. Her musky, sweet perfume was the only thing she left behind and claw marks over Taehyun’s hand.

Like a stigma. Or a target mark.

Taehyun knew the tale of the fox sister but he knew many variations of it. There was no way he could tell which was the closest to the truth and how it could have made it easier for him to find her. She kept mentioning beauty, how much people cared about it and she only killed the rich, spending her free time in luxury. He knew there must have been a hint there, a clue to this game she was playing like a cat playing with the mice before eating.

“What did you say she said her name was?” Jungkook nudged him on the shoulder as he was dozing off while hovering over materials at their dining table which was used for investigations more often than to eat.

Living together made sense after they started hunting down monsters as a team. Taehyun didn’t have anybody left by the time the elder found him. They both came from hunter families, they had known each other since they were children. But Taehyun’s family wanted a normal life for him: normal school, normal friends, normal family activities instead of shooting practices. Look at how it turned out: blood on the table under the moonlight. He had been hot-headed and raging when Jungkook had found him and taken him in, becoming his only family. He had saved him from himself.

“She said her father had named her Ahreum because of her beauty,” he said, looking over his shoulder to see his hyung immersed in a book about Korean historical speculations. He had barely slept since his encounter with the girl from the day before, so he appreciated any help. He was determined to find her before the full moon. Before she would kill again.

“Here, look. Read this,” Jungkook passed the book over and pointed at a passage about the royal family in the 1500s.

Changdeokgung, the secondary royal palace of Joseon since King Taejong’s rule (1400–1418), was vacant over decades as Huwon – known as Secret Garden nowadays – was said to be a haunted place. According to the stories, King Myeongjong’s (1545–1567) beautiful daughter was locked away in one of its residents after the Crown Prince and his brothers had died unexpectedly, leaving the kingdom in aghast. Sources vary about the reason but during those decades the royal household suffered numerous losses in personnel, maids and guards as well, all of them bleeding out. Some suspected a disease that spread from person to person and the reason why the princess could survive was because she was alone. Other sources reported about animal attacks. During these uncertain times, a neighbouring kingdom asked her for the princess’ hand to join their forces but the prince had died on the wedding night. That was when the rumours about Princess Ahreum being the cause of it started. The people of the kingdom demanded her to be executed for sorcery, keeping her youth with others’ blood since she was said to have barely aged even after spending two decades in seclusion. Others believed she was cursed and blamed her for the Japanese invasions under the rule of her cousin, King Seonjo (1567–1608). During the military conflict in 1592, Huwon suffered serious damages by fire and Princess Ahreum was declared dead.

“Animal attacks, huh? And a never-ageing princess? Sound about right,” Taehyun hummed, thinking back on the fox sister’s tale: a man praying for a daughter, even if she was a fox, after three of his sons and in the end, his beautiful daughter killed them all except the eldest brother who managed to kill her with fire. And now, a few hours before moonrise, he knew where to look for her.

Huwon at night was hauntingly beautiful.

The royal garden was a popular tourist attraction, especially among couples due to its romantic scenery but the Palace and its garden were closed for the night, so Taehyun was alone after sneaking into one of the national treasures of his country. It was easier than he expected but he didn't want to get ahead of himself nor feel relief as he walked towards the Pavilion behind the Buyongji pond. He had been there before once, during a school trip about Korean heritage. He remembered playing hide and seek with his friends and in a way, this was the same game after all.

A sick version of it.

The garden was eerily quiet. Each of Taehyun's steps echoed off the trees and old buildings, no matter how careful he moved around. The rocks under his feet and the wind blowing in his face gave him away but there was no sign of the girl. Did he misunderstand her clue? Was she somewhere else or was she here, just hiding, waiting for him to find her, to play the game right?

Suddenly, a shadow moved in the dark. A laughter echoed all around him. He felt goosebumps form on his arm and he drew his dagger out, searching for the girl behind it all.

There she was: on the top of the stars, her silhouette unclear in the calm waters of the pond but her smile dangerous like always.

“Oh, someone’s smart,” she giggled at the compliment, twirling in her pretty white hanbok. Like this, with her midnight hair in waves all over her shoulders and the pearl colored dress sweeping the floor, she really did look like a princess. Beautiful like falling petals during the bloom of the cherry blossoms.

Taehyun expected her to have company. A naiv human on whom she could feed on, but she was all alone, no signs of any other living being around them: just her, him and–

“But… you brought a friend. Too bad. I thought it would be just us two,” the girl pouted, sounding genuinely disappointed. Then she moved so fast, Taehyun could barely follow it with his eyes, let alone stop her when she dragged Jungkook out of his observation place behind the Pavilion as if he was nothing but a ragdoll.

"Nobody taught you it's rude to spy on others?" She tsked and when Jungkook raised an arm to strike down on her with an iron arrow, she grabbed onto his wrist with one hand and his neck with the other. Then she simply broke the arrow in two, taking its pointy head and dove it to his chest.

It all happened too quickly, Taehyun was still running up the stairs when Jungkook's knees gave in and he fell on the ground, blood dripping from the wound on his chest to the dirty ground of the Garden that had seen so many ruthless rulers.

Ahreum chuckled again, her palm painted carmine from blood as she wiped it into her snow white dress, ruining it just how murder dirtied innocence. Taehyun didn't think; he acted on impulse and adrenaline as he ran up to her and pushed her against the stone wall, away from his hyung's struggling body with a knife against her throat threateningly.

"What do you want?" He asked, hoarsely, and she smiled a wicked smile that sent shivers down his spine as it reminded him more of a wolf's snarl than anything.

"You, pretty boy, I want to eat you all up," she said, giggling like a maniac and licking her already burgundy lips. Taehyun pushed the blade more into the soft skin of her neck but she didn't seem that affected as her blood-coated fingers toyed with his jawline.

"You are a monster," the boy spat, praying that his hyung could hold on for a bit more.

"Am I?" The fox princess tilted her head, thinking, her grip growing firmer. "I am what I was made to be. It's not like I ever had a choice. My father made a deal with the devil, so he had it coming. But me? If I am the punishment for his greed, why am I punished, too?"

Taehyun had no good answer for that. He never thought that these creatures had it in themselves to feel like they were being punished. To him, it seemed like their existence was the penalty for humanity’s avarice and he never chit-chatted more with any to think otherwise. The vampires, sirens and goblins he had met before were all more eager to kill him than to talk about their lives’ meaning and purpose with him.

“You always have a choice,” the hunter boy reminded her firmly.

To kill was always a choice, even if made under pressure and one had to be able to accept the consequences of their decisions. Yet, the princess didn’t seem to like his answer. Her nails turned into claws and harshly ripped the thin skin of his jaw as she pushed him away. The impact of it sent him to the ground and in a moment, she was crawling all over him, her pretty albeit stained hanbok spreading like a tainted halo around them. She held his wrists on the ground with an inhuman force, her animalistic features coming to surface.

“Should I tear the liver out of your friend’s body? Should I feed on it?” She hissed between her teeth and licked her lips as she glanced over at Jungkook’s unconscious body. “A hunter would make a delicious treat for my 1000th victim. I admit, I thought it would be you but I’m not picky.”

Oh. So he was supposed to be the special one, her next victim. So the clue wasn’t a clue at all, it was a trap and he walked right into it with his hyung following in suit.

“Do you know the ancient rule, don’t you?” Ahreum spoke up in a conversational tone as if she hadn’t just threatened to kill the person who was the closest he had to a family. As if it didn’t matter to her. It probably didn’t. Not with her killing her own family. “My kind turns human after the 1000th human liver. I could finally be something I should have been to begin with. And yet, I’m curious: would you kill me? Even if I wasn’t a monster anymore but a human? For what? Killing your friend to become one? Can you really blame me for not wanting to be like this?”

Yes, Taehyun did hear the myth but he didn’t think it was true. He didn’t think monsters could turn human and even if they did, it wouldn’t overrule what they had done. She had still killed thousands of people for their livers and who knows how much more just out of spite.

“Even if you lose your fox-abilities, it doesn’t automatically make you human,” so he said, standing his ground, gritting his teeth, not caring about the blood dripping down his neck nor her hands smearing the dirt all over his skin.

“Tell me then, pretty boy, what makes a monster to begin with? That they have horns and fangs? Or that they kill?” The princess laughed, amused and wicked. “You act all so mighty but in reality, you are doing the same and you are not doing this for the world’s sake. You do this for yourself. For revenge. So selfish.”

Taehyun hissed at the pressure applied to his chest, at the claws digging into his bloodlines, at the words cutting in deep, hitting exactly where it hurt. He really had gotten back into the hunting business to get revenge on his family and he indeed had a personal vengeance against her kind but at least, he didn’t hurt innocent people.

“You are one to talk. You don’t even have a soul, nothing that could be saved,” he spat because it was clear from how she treated others, like they were dirt under the sole of her shoe. She was self-centred, she only cared about her rights and needs without a care of whom she had to trample over to get those. But there was almost more to meet the eye.

“That’s what you tell yourself to be able to sleep at night? That we don’t have a soul? What? Do you think we miraculously lose what makes us human the moment we become like this? Or you think we are born without a soul to begin with? And if we do, whose fault is that? It’s not like I asked to be like this. You do know my kind would die if we didn’t feed on humans, right? So what right do you have to judge me when humans kill just because they can and not for survival? At the end of the day, aren’t we all just animals in this kingdom?” She whispered with a smirk in the corner of her mouth.

Her perfect white teeth turned to pointy ones, four long canines as she bared them to him to prove a point. Taehyun pushed against her in the attempt to shove her down from him but she was too strong. No matter all those hours spent in the gym, the gumiho’s strength was supernatural and he knew that his only chance was to outsmart her but before he could have distracted her attention enough to free one of his hands, a sudden noise of pocket lighter clicking drew their attention.

"Oh look, he's still alive. A tenacious one, huh?" The girl looked up, the corners of her lips curling up in an impressed grimace.

Turning his head, Taehyun saw his hyung getting up from the ground, holding a hand over his bleeding wound and the lit lighter in the other. They both knew the story of the fox and the fire but watching the flame mirrored in Ahreum orbs, the young hunter wasn’t sure she was afraid at all. After all, somehow she survived the great fire of the Japanese destruction.

But then her eyes widened in surprise and Taehyun knew it was his moment. Without knowing what Jungkook was about to do, he used the girl’s distraction to yank his arms out of her hold and roll out from under her body, grabbing the knife he dropped from the floor. Just as he stumbled to his feet did he see that Jungkook had retrieved his crossbow and lit the next arrowhead on fire, then he took a shot. Ahreum had to jump out of the burning arrow’s way with a hiss. The metal head pierced into the Pavilion’s walls, the painted wood catching light like sugar that was caramelised over the heat.

After seeing his hyung wave at him to go, Taehyun followed the girl as she slipped inside the building. The old dusty smell and darkness of it reminded him of an attic of a home, of hide and seek games played by kids, but now with a knife in hand and a monster hiding, it wasn’t like a game anymore.

“I hate your kind,” Ahreum yelled at him from the shadows, her voice full of blame and hatred. “They had come like this, you know? They came and called me a witch; they wanted me to burn. They heard me scream and they laughed. Aren’t they monsters too then?”

The fox princess’ voice turned into sobs and the flames ate up the walls of the Pavilion and the moonlight shone through the blazing red of fire and the grey smoke. She coughed and tripped, breaking an expensive ancient vase into pieces as she was in hurry to find another escape. But Taehyun was faster in finding her in the middle of shattered ceramics, her hanbok blood red from the rising fire, its heat urging the boy to act too.

When he dove the knife into the gumiho’s heart, he didn’t feel anything. No regret, no guilt. She gasped, coughing up blood, crimson sliding down her pale neck from the corner of her mouth. The dark fluid spread all over her pretty white dress like a blooming red rose. But then Taehyun looked into her eyes, at the tears rolling down her cheeks and his hold on the knife loosened.

“Please, I don't want to die like this,” she pleaded, looking frightened with her big doe eyes, so unlike the sharp fox-like predator from before. She looked like daddy’s precious little princess and for a moment, he considered it all: whether she would have turned out the same if she wasn’t treated like a monster from the start, whether she was right about what made monsters…

Was he becoming a monster, too? The thought haunted him, but it was a mistake.

Using his hesitation to her advantage, the princess grabbed a sharp-edged broken ceramic piece from the floor and jabbed it into his abdomen, tearing skin right above his liver. His warm blood coated her fingers and she licked it with a wicked smile, amusement playing in the corner of her mouth even still.

“You humans… are the most monstrous of all,” she rasped as she reached for Taehyun’s hand over the knife’s handle, unhooking his fingers one by one. “But you know what? I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

With flames reaching high, just like almost half a millennium ago, Huwon was burning and a white fox disappeared into the woods like smoke in the night.

#happilyneveraftercollab #taehyun x reader #txt x reader #txt taehyun x reader #txt angst #stories

27 notes · View notes