Tumgik
#its like .too frantic for it to be an attack /feed
foryouthegays · 1 year
Text
magnapinna squid r so funny to me so much of the content around them is like TERRIFYING MONSTER OF THE DEEP???? DONT WATCH AT NIGHT SO SCARY and u look at it and its just like 🧍
srsly look at this guy hes just chilling hes like 🧍fr
Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
mintymarabell · 16 days
Text
Platonic yandere elder yautja.
An elder whose strong and powerful in status but not fertile, his seed never taking so he never had children of his own.
He would beat himself up over it all the time, thinking he was not good enough.
He’ll be on earth just wondering around aimlessly when he sees you, a teenager who was crying in the woods.
He would watch curiously, wondering what you were doing alone.
When you get up and leave after composing yourself he’ll follow after you, when you lead him to a house that has two ooman pairs having a yelling match inside he somewhat connects the dots.
He will watch over you over the months, noticing the neglect in the household. He’s so jealous, your parents barely pay you any mind or even care for you and yet he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Maybe one time you’re in your room curled up in bed trying to sleep through your parents continuous arguing when your window slowly slides open, you don’t notice until there’s a big thump and suddenly something is in your room.
You go to scream but a large hand is cupped over your mouth to quiet the sound.
When you wake up again you’re in a different room, one much bigger than your previous one the bed huge and comfortable with alien soft sheets and silk pillows.
A small tray of breakfast sat on the nightstand to your left still warm.
He won’t reveal his scary appearance to you, living as a ghost in his own home as he provided for you better than your parents ever had.
Maybe one day, after a few months of living in the strange very futuristic like house you explore, walking around the grand halls, looking into the various bedrooms, some being children others being for an adult, you simply marveled at the design.
Maybe you walk outside to see the scenery and notice the different colors of the sky, the amber atmosphere.
You wander farther from the house, towards the pristine gates and walk out of them as you look at this ‘new world’ in hopes of feeding your growing curiosity.
Maybe you venture too far, finding you had zoned out and was now in the woods with faint growling and the once twin suns now settling into a dark sky.
Your breathing hitched as you looked around frantically trying to remember where it is you came from, then suddenly something hops from the tree, it is some beast, clearly not from earth.
The beast stalking towards you as it readied itself to attack and then it lunged, you closed your eyes and waited but it never came.
Instead a loud crash could be heard as something ran into the beast, you opened your eyes and seen the beast but nothing else.
It was as if the beast was fighting its imaginary friend, though in this case enemy.
The beast had brawled with the other invisible being, at some point in the fight the beast had landed a hit, the sound of flesh tearing and electric sparks then its invisible cloak was unveiled.
You had been inching back this whole time, slowly but surely won the race right? Though as you inched back, you noticed the humanoid was beginning to slack. Noticing a healing wound on its shoulder blade being the issue of its delay.
You had decided it was clearly on your side so you picked up a size ably sharp stick. Beginning to walk back toward the fight just as the beast had pinned the your possible new friend; you stabbed it right through the throat.
The humanoid pushed off the now dead carcass, standing up slowly. This had given you a moment to look at him truly. He had four mandibles with sharp fangs on the end, along with long dread like hair that was graying. After the awkward pause he had ruffled your hair and pushed you back in the direction of the house you had stayed at.
It had been a few months, your new father now walking around with no invisible cloak. He was in short terms, protective. If you had went out he went along and never let you go far. It appeared he lived alone, in a massive home.
You could get used to it, though you hoped it wasn’t forever it’d be like this.
201 notes · View notes
spooky-bunnys · 1 year
Note
Request idea so the reader is a gardener for the phantomhive manor and Sebastian sometimes sees the reader take food scraps, milk and a few medical supply and heads deep into the garden. Sebastian out of curiosity secretly follows the reader and sees that the reader is feeding a bunch of stray cats and tend to the wounds some of the cats have
I added a twist. Hope you Enjoy!
Momma Cat
Sebastian x Male Reader
Tumblr media
If there was one thing the workers were thankful for. It was (Name). He helped Finny with the garden. So when he messed up (Name) would do what he can before Sebastian or the Young Master found out. Which is what happened right now. Finny had planted the wrong roses so (Name) was removing the roses planted and replanting the correct roses.
As he got more towards the middle of the garden he heard hissing. Alarmed (Name) jumped up. He knows the Young Master is allergic to cats but....they're so fucking cute! (Name) quickly made his way to where he heard the noise. When he made it to the center he stumbled across what looked like a slightly pregnant black cat.
What surprised him was that she was fighting an orange tabby cat. She looked to be losing and he couldn't handle the thought of what'd happen if she did. (Name) quickly grabbed the orange cat by the scruff of his neck. The cat upon being picked up froze. (Name) shook his head and walked away from the other cat. When he made it to the forest (Name) ushered the orange cat away before returning.
When he returned he noticed how injured and hungry the future mom cat looked. So (Name) quietly snuck into the kitchen. Snatching some bandages (He makes sure to have a first aid kit in almost every room because his friends are always getting hurt), a small bowl of milk, and some chicken scraps from his earlier lunch. When he came back the black cat instinctively hissed at him.
(Name) instantly raised his hands before slowly lowering the bowl where he mixed the chicken and milk. Not tasty for a human but the cat loved it. (Name) slowly got to work on cleaning and aiding her. He made sure to keep his hands away from her stomach knowing she'll definitely attack him to protect her kittens.
After he finished he softly scratched behind her ear. Enjoying the sound of her pur. "Well my little queen of darkness I must return to my work. Come again if you ever need anything." (Name) walked away from his new found friend. Happy he was able to help her. What he didn't expect was for his new friend to actually come back.
The newly named Queen kept coming back to the Phantomhive manor garden. Luckily (Name) was always able to sneak bits of milk and scraps. Sometimes bandages if needed. This continued for months. (Name) was never caught by his friends, Sebastian, or even the Young Master.
That is until Queen had gone into labor.
(Name) quickly ran into the kitchen not even looking to see if anyone was inside. He quickly grabbed a blanket, his first aid kit, milk, and more scrapped food. Before making his way to Queens "bed" as he called it. While this was happening he didn't notice Sebastian cleaning up after another one of Bard's "accidents".
He didn't notice Sebastian silently following him either until it was too late. As (Name) was helping Queen by cleaning off the kittens and shredding the food into the milk for her. Sebastian was watching in awe. He just watched what was probably the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "My what a beautiful sight~" (Name) jumped and hid Queen and her kittens. Frantically trying to come up with an excuse.
"Mister Sebastian! I-Its um not what it looks like!" Sebastian raised a eyebrow smirking. "Whatever do you mean? I watched you help the beautiful feline birth her adorable kittens." (Name) blushed in shame. He'd been caught red handed. "I'm sorry sir. I had found her a few months ago. I didn't want anything to happen to her and she kept coming back. Please don't tell Master Ciel."
Sebastian gave him a closed eye smile. "Alright I won't tell the Young Master. As long as you introduce me to your little friend there." (Name) smiled brightly showing Sebastian the cats. He started introducing them starting with Queen before going to her kittens. Once he was introduced Sebastian asked a question (Name) honestly wasn't expecting.
"Queen? Why give her such a name?" (Name) blushed bashfully. "I uh called her my little Queen of Darkness when we first met and she started answering to Queen so it just kind of stuck." (Name) rubbed the back of his head as Sebastian gave a chuckle. "It quite fits actually." They turned back to the cats. (Name)'s gaze soften nodding. "Yeah it does, doesn't it?" Sebastian looked at him from the corner of his eye. He made a promise right there.
He will marry this human.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
696 notes · View notes
maskyartist · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Such a nice, plump frame, what's-his-name has...had...
Has."
proper AU info under the cut but i offer yall!
Eat or Be Eaten AU!
The Putt Putts were grateful for what they had. Every inch of Hole In Fun was theirs, and it was safe. With a metal door and high walls caging them off from potential Bergan attacks, along with plenty of land for growing crops... It was practically perfect.
Except...the limited food.
Crops were fine. Sweet breads made from flower-flour was always sustainable, but you can't expect an entire tribe to live off nothing but bread their entire lives. And meat was sustainable, but the frozens were running out. Their only sources of FOOD were running out, and Viva could see it on her subject's faces.
They were starving.
The following days of the realization included plenty of arguments, fights, and biting. Viva had to come up with a solution, and fast, along with Clay who was happy to help, and was just as desperate as the Queen.
Their answer, quite literally, arrived at their doorstep.
A Bergen. He was tall, but nothing like the grubby old Bergens who dug their nasty fingers in their Troll Tree all those years ago. And the sight of Trolls had him confused, then excited.
Then her people pounced, and Clay learned the clown crusher worked perfectly. Too well. Uncomfortably well.
While the Trolls celebrated their success at defending themselves, Viva and Clay were busy trying to figure out what to do with the body now. It takes their strongest Trolls to pull the body behind the Admin Building, a body that dwarfs the building itself.
They both retreat inside once the night and cleanup are finished, Viva on the verge of frantic. She needs her people to eat, SHE needs to eat. Everyone's hungry, they're running out of food, and she doesn't want to know what'll happen if they all fall into a feral state.
Then, Clay quietly moves to the window where the body sits...and a realization hits.
They can't exactly bury the body, and they cant leave it outside of the Hole In Fun, but they do have one way of getting rid of the body AND feeding their people at the same time!
If you ask him...
It's time they grow a taste for higher grade meats.
===
Basically instead of the Putt Putts hiding out and making the Golf Course as unnoticable as possible, they instead spruce the entire area up and give it a fresh coat of paint! it looks like its open, with shiny lights and happy music from the inside during "business hours" and after
When really, its the Putt Putts luring Bergens into their home to kill and eat them :D
If the Bergens thought they were tasty, then I can assure you these Trolls find them delectable~ Fatty and melt-in-your-mouth delicious. Plus, it makes them stronger. Much like how eating Trolls makes Bergens happy, Bergen meat provides Trolls immense strength and speed
Makes convincing Viva that the Bergens are good people MUCH more difficult i'd say
i'll also say after so long of lack of sugary foods (lets be real they ran out of sugar a LONG time ago all that candy got eaten VERY quickly), the Putt Putts actually CANT digest immense amounts of sugar as Poppy's Pop Trolls can :)
this is just for me ngl but i hope yall find it interesting!
62 notes · View notes
esmeinlove · 3 months
Text
I have another idea I can’t stop thinking about
Carlisle and Esme are both human, married and in love (obs). After 4 years of trying for a baby they fall pregnant and are so desperately overjoyed. But 2 weeks later Carlisle ends up being attacked on the way home from work. He stops to assist a broken down car. However when he approaches approached the car he disturbs a vampire who was feeding on the driver. Carlisle tries to run but is bitten waking up three days later alone and thirsty….
All he can think about is Esme and his thirst. The two go hand in hand. He wants to get back to her but every time he moves closer to civilisation he wants to feed on human blood, so he retreats back into the forest, disgusted with himself. He was a doctor in his previous life, wanting to help people and how he was the opposite.
Esme is obviously beside herself. She is frantically looking for him. A search party, posters, missing people charities contacted, but nothing. No trace. How can this happen to her? They were so happy after such a hard time in their lives. She whispers to her baby every night that she will never give up looking for him.
Carlisle works with his thirst, desperate to get back to Esme - finds he can survive on animal blood. Finally, just as Esme is reaching the end of her pregnancy Carlisle is able to reach the woods that border his old house. He can smell her. Oh, how wonderful she smells. It’s overpowering and draws him in closer, he finally sees her through the kitchen window washing the dishes. He moves closer, it’s dark, she can’t see out to the dark grass. She dries her hands and walks across the kitchen past the glass doors. Carlisle sees her. He drops to her knees and sobs. The swell of her pregnant belly is too much for him, the way she touches her rounded stomach and talks to the baby. It’s all he’s ever wanted and it was taken away from him.
He can hear two heartbeats. He can sense the extra blood, his lips begin to pull back across his sharp teeth. The growl pulls him back and he runs away. He despises himself. He wanted to bite her, consume her, drink her blood.
He now visits every night, sitting in the trees far enough away so he’s of no danger. He watches over her and his baby that is safe inside her body.
One night, after hunting, he goes back and she’s not there. He panics. He can smell amniotic fluid. The baby, she must be in labour.
He follows the scent as best he could and heads for the hospital, but it’s too much. He can’t get closer. The bloodlust. The fear someone would see him. So he goes back to their old house, to the safety of the woods. After a day - he’s curious. Is the key still under the chicken flowerpot by the front door… it is… he lets himself in.
He consumes her scent. He wraps himself in her blankets, her clothes, their bed. His heart aches greater than it ever has before. Nothing has changed. His belongings are still in the house, his running shoes were still by the front door. Like she was expecting him to come back. His throat burns but he could put that aside for her.
For them.
She returns 5 days later. He retreats to the forest. She is alone. She’s quiet, her eyes are hollow sat upon dark circles. Her skin pale. The life and love deserted her. She’s forlorn. Her shoulders are slumped, she shuffles her feet, looking at the ground. Esme’s good friend brings her in and settles her into bed… they hardly say anything to each other. Esme can’t make eye contact. She sobs quietly into her pillow.
Carlisle hurts for her. What happened? The fire in his throat is present he can smell her bleeding from down below, and its like a hot iron piercing through his soul. It would have consumed him and made him tear into the house if he wasn’t so concerned for her.
Carlisle wonders where is the baby? What has happened, what has gone so wrong? Esme’s friend goes downstairs and makes a call to her husband. Carlisle can hear every word as he’s so close to the house now. Esme’s sobs are pulling him apart. He wants to comfort her and he’s so close but he needs to her what her friend says on the phone.
‘I’m back at Esme’s. I’ve just tucked her in bed’
‘Oh babe, poor girl. How is she?’ A male voice came from the small phone.
‘She’s bad’ a pause. ‘I can’t believe this happened. It’s just so tragic. First Carlisle, now their precious baby boy. She doesn’t deserve this’
Carlisle felt as though the world had shattered around him. He had a son. But what had happened? He couldn’t stay away any longer. Esme needed him.
He climbs in through their bedroom window. She barely lifts her head to acknowledge him. Her face is tear stained and eyes are blank. She catatonic. He has to hold his breath but pushes the fire down. Her emotional needs were far greater than the pain in his throat. He calls softly to her. She doesn’t register.
He sits on the edge of the bed. His cold hand reaches out to take her hand. He has to loosen her fingers that are gripping the sheets tightly.
‘Esme’ he tried again.
She slowly turns her face to his and whispers ‘You’ve come back’
‘Oh, darling. I’m so sorry, my love’ he watched the silent tears roll down her face as he spoke.
‘Take good care of him’ Esme was so far into grief, she assumes Carlisle has come from the afterlife to comfort her. She doesn’t realise he’s with her, that he’s really there. He sat with her until he heard the friend come back up the stairs.
He goes to hunt - to quench the fire that burns his soul. The grief of losing a son, Esme’s grief fuelling his body to run further to smash through trees to be careless. After he drained his third bear he fell into the fur and cried. Tearless sobs echoed across the valley as the rain poured down.
He went back 2 days later. She was gone. The police were there. He heard that she had left in the middle of the night. Carlisle closed his eyes and followed her scent. The rain dampened it but with her fresh bleeding after birth he could track her through the woods. He ran as if his life depended on it.
He finds her at the edge of a cliff, that overlooked the valley in the forest. A favourite picnic spot of theirs from happier times. Her hair whipping around her face blowing her scent into the wind. She stepped closer to the edge… turned around, looked at him in the eyes as he shouted
‘Esme!’ His arms reaching out for her, his fingertips stretching to their limits.
He heard her whisper as she fell backwards over the edge ‘I’m coming Carlisle’. He watched her fall and then he jumped.
He heard the impact of her soft body hitting the ground and she didn’t scream. He landed next to her. Scooping her up screaming ‘no, no, no’ thoughts screaming round his head - what could he do. Her breathing was uneven, her heart was fading, she was so close to death. He needed to save her.
His fingers held her broken body close to his, his face buried in her hair, close to the skin of her neck. He could feel the flutter of her pulse. His teeth were so close to her skin. He thought of the crescent moon scars that were on his neck… on his wrists as he leant into her.
Following some unknown instinct he bite into her skin, her blood filling his mouth. He groaned as he stopped himself from swallowing the delicious blood that spilled from her body. He bit again on the other side, her wrists and her chest near her heart. He held her close as she screamed for three days. Trying desperately to muffle the sounds of her pain. Burying themselves deeper into a nearby crack in the cliff.
He hated himself for putting her through it. He couldn’t bear to continue to cause her pain, but when her visible injuries began to heal and her heart stopped beating he knew it had worked. He continued to hold her as her red eyes flicked open and fell upon his.
‘Carlisle?’ She whispered. ‘Heaven’
‘My love. I’m here’
26 notes · View notes
ilovedthestars · 7 months
Text
a trick or treat for @cellarwhales, who was having mysterious technical difficulties with my inbox
you asked for something hopeful or cathartic, so i am going to share some snips from the slightly angsty but mostly soft fic that i wrote after backreading the Murderbot has a Murdercat thread on discord. this wip was inspired by the excellent fic a hero to me by kiore ( @temporalreplicsimile ) and it's really not that far from being finished, but i stalled out on looking thru the books to find some quotes to tie the various snips i wrote into canon scenes.....i should go do that so i can post this!
these snips are scenes from ASR (starting immediately after the rogue discovery scene), but if Murderbot had a cat. because it deserves one.
---
A small, furry fauna streaked out of the corner and attacked my feet with its tiny claws. I was so relieved to see it that I didn’t even think before I bent down and lifted it off the floor. It shoved its head into the crook of my elbow and I had to pull my arms close to my body to keep from dropping it. It burrowed its face into my shirt and started to vibrate softly. I realized that all the humans were staring at me. Ratthi said, “Oh, is it yours?” I just stood there, trying frantically to think of a lie or an excuse that would explain why this small fauna had attached itself to me. Anything that wouldn’t lead to it being taken away. Arada said, “It came running out of the cubicle when we opened it, and wouldn’t come back. We weren’t sure how a cat got in with us, but if you brought it with you, that explains that.” Volescu said, “Is that…allowed? For SecUnits to have pets?” I tensed, and clutched the fauna a little closer to myself. Gurathin was frowning at the fauna in my arms. “It can’t possibly be allowed. It must have been hiding the cat, too. I suppose if it was rogue, it could have managed to sneak it in.” He put a little too much emphasis on the word rogue, and Mensah shot him a look. “SecUnit, I would like you to remain part of our group, at least until we get off this planet and back to a place of safety. At that point, we can discuss what you’d like to do. But I swear to you, I won’t tell the company, or anyone outside this room, anything about you or the broken module.” She considered the fauna, and added, “Or the cat.”
---
When we left for the rendezvous site, I left the fauna with the big hopper. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like bringing a fauna to a hostile negotiation was going to help anyone. It tried to follow me to the little hopper with Mensah. I picked it up and carried it back. “Stay here.” It knew to stay when I told it to stay. If it hadn’t figured that out quickly, it wouldn’t have lasted very long. It was a smart fauna. It tucked itself underneath one of the big hopper’s seats, almost out of sight, and stayed quiet. “Good fauna,” I told it. If everything went to shit, I hoped it would find a way to survive.
---
I was hovering on the edge of a system failure. I had flashes, off and on. The inside of the little hopper, my humans talking, something soft pushing against my hand. I felt the scrabble of tiny claws. It was my fauna. It was bumping my hand with its head and making tiny whimpering sounds. I didn’t want it to be scared, but my hand wouldn’t move to stroke it. Then being in the big hopper, as it was lifting up. I could tell from the drive noise, the flashes of the feed, that the pick-up transport was bringing it on board. The fauna licked my fingers. That meant the humans hadn’t left it behind.
38 notes · View notes
cinebration · 1 year
Text
Come Back To Me (Jack Russell x Reader) [Epilogue]
The end.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue
Tagged: @lucy-sky​, @faeoftheapocalypse​, @theconsultingdoctor10​, @starfirette​, @bitchyglitterfox​, @thefandomqueenbb​, @scarlettsoldier​, @russell-ed​, @xasement​, @stand-with-cap​, @marvelenthusiast10​, @supermarvelgirl15​, @eykismyfav​, @killeromanoff​, @hawkins-2000​, @fangurldayandnight​, @liv-victoriano​, @randomchick546​, @g1m2g3, @gingermous​, @howlingco​, @vynsvision​, @jwjeepers, @rellasnowheenim​, @yelenas-lova​, @ackroxia​, @littlenosoul​, @allthingsvicf​, @emiemiemii​, @n3rdybirdee​, @kl0k, @damnzelsoul, @theslytherinwriter​​​​
Warnings: mention of blood
Tumblr media
Gif Source: timothydalton
Talking with Ted did little to ease Jack’s anxiety. His turning over the full moon had been harrowing. Though his systems had remained in place and he hadn’t escaped to hurt anyone, he had woken all three mornings to bruises and slashes along his own skin. The walls were riddled with gouges, the beast desperate to be free.
Reports of ear-splitting howls circulated over all three nights in the area he hid himself.
It wasn’t the lingering smell of blood in his apartment or the fact a death had occurred there a few days before that had triggered such a bad change. It had been the anguish at seeing you attacked, hurt, and worst of all broken in the encounter. The look of cold horror, followed by intense detachment, on your face had chilled Jack to the bone.
Now a week from the incident, he still hadn’t heard from you. Your last words to him repeated endlessly in his ears.
“No more helping.”
Ted offered little in the way of comfort. There was nothing he could say or do to alleviate Jack’s guilt and shame and grief over the incident. Just recounting it had brought tears to Jack’s eyes, followed by a few moments of grappling with his emotions to finish telling the story.
“I’m not worried she’s going to kill me,” he told Ted, answering the creature’s question. “She saved me! She could have killed me. For the bounty, for that guy, for any reason, but she didn’t. I don’t think she will change her mind now.”
Ted growled.
“I have to believe it means something, Ted.” Jack swallowed thickly, fighting the tightening in his throat. “She could have killed me. I wouldn’t have been able to stop her. I wouldn’t have tried. But she didn’t. That has to mean something!”
His friend shrugged, countering.
“She wouldn’t do that, I’m sure of it. In fact, she quit hunting, so she definitely wouldn’t do that.” Ignoring the crack in his voice, Jack paced around the small campfire, following his anxious tracks from a week before. It felt like an eternity ago he had been worrying about what to feed you for dinner. Possibly breakfast, if he dared admit it.
“I’m afraid I won’t see her again,” he admitted, his voice a mournful whisper.
Ted grunted in sympathy.
The thought haunted Jack more than the histories of his past. He didn’t need to explain himself or even talk to you at all, not if you didn’t want him to. He only wanted to see you again, to be seen by you again. Even if it was to say good-bye.
Jack froze, stricken. “What if she goes to my home looking for me?” He spun on his heel, frantic. “I shouldn’t be here. Not that I don’t enjoy your company, my friend, but she won’t know where to find me.”
Ted grunted again, waving him away with a large hand.
~~
Appetite lost, Jack refused to leave his apartment. The chance of missing you, if ever you came to see him, was too great for him to fathom being one moment outside the apartment.
A fire alarm went off two days after he spoke with Ted. He remained huddled in his apartment, hoping it wasn’t serious.
No one noticed his absence.
The fifth day, he forced himself to go into the bathroom and shave his stubbly face. He showered and opened windows to air out the musty smell of his prolonged presence. It smelled too much like the wolf.
It paced restlessly inside him, mourning the loss of its potential mate. It snarled things deep in Jack’s soul, insisting he tear apart the night to find you.
Jack kept a rein on it.
Barely.
Another week later, Jack had not given up hope but had resigned himself to it not happening. He ate dinner without tasting it and wondered if there was a way for him to find you. He could try to track your scent around the city, but he had nothing of yours to inhale deeply.
The seeds of despair sowed themselves in his soul.
Knuckles rapped on his door.
He froze, every nerve singing as he went taut with alertness.
The knuckles rapped again.
Leaping to his feet, heart pounding, he rushed to the door, hope swelling. It took all his restraint not to yank open the door.
You stood opposite the threshold, looking determined but worse for wear. Heart jumping into his throat, Jack could only manage, “You’re here.”
Nodding, you stared down at your feet, hands clenching and unclenching into anxious fists. Jack took a step back to let you into the apartment.
You remained in the hallway.
Fear twisted his heart.
“Do you remember where you found me?” you asked, your voice strained.
“Yes.”
“Could you find it again?”
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. “Yes.”
“Take me there.”
~~
The drive was silent, you sitting behind the wheel, Jack sitting with his window rolled down so he could smell the heady scent of the woods. You parked off the scenic route and followed Jack through the trees, stepping carefully in the near darkness. Detritus crunched underfoot, at times slipping with slime beneath shoes.
Jack desperately wanted to speak, to get you to talk to him, but for once he was at a loss. Each sentence he formed in his mind felt wrong, guaranteed to widen the chasm yawning between you both.
It hurt him more than the silence itself.
After half an hour, he drew to a stop a few feet away from the hunter’s trap. “There it is.”
You stared at the open maw of the pit, refusing to step any nearer. Arms folding over your chest, you clenched your hands into fists against your biceps—whether to stave off the cold or your own emotions, Jack couldn’t be sure.
He fidgeted beside you, stealing surreptitious glances at your closed expression. The urge to ask if he could help nearly overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to remain quiet, afraid it was the wrong thing to ask.
“You could have left me there.”
Your soft voice set his heart racing.
“When you realized I was a hunter, you could have let me die here.”
Jack risked a glance at your face, found you still staring at the pit, a crease slowly forming in your forehead.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you,” you continued, your arms tightening across your chest. “I thought it was such an irony that I was gonna die that way. Having a monster leave me there to die would have been icing on the cake.”
“I couldn’t,” he blurted, stepping into your line of sight. “I could never.”
For a second, you stared through him. Then your gaze lifted and met his, scrutinizing his face with such intensity that Jack felt bare beneath it.
“You really couldn’t, could you?”
“Never,” he repeated. “The wolf—”
Your eyelids twitched.
“—it’s only a few nights of me. I’m human most of the time, and I have systems to protect everyone. What happened at Bloodstone Manor, that was…” He glanced away. “They used the stone. I tried to warn them, but they didn’t listen.”
Your attention dropped down to your feet.
“You don’t have to believe me,” he whispered, pain lining his voice. “But I could never hurt anyone intentionally.”
“You didn’t even fight Jaeger, just went to get the gun away when I gave you the chance.”
“Yes.”
The muscle in your jaw worked. Lifting your head, you looked past him at the pit again and then stepped around him, striding over to the open hole.
You dropped down inside.
Panic seizing his nervous system, Jack rushed to the lip of the trap.
You stood safely at the bottom, carefully avoiding the stakes. Skirting along the walls of the hole, you found the stump of the stake that had impaled you. A flurry of emotions clouded your face until the hard set of your shoulders banished them. You reached down and yanked on the stake, pulling hard and digging your heels into the soft earth.
The stake slid free.
You hefted it in your hands for several heartbeats, then tossed it over the edge of the lip. You glanced up at Jack.
His chest constricted as he met your gaze.
“Can you help me?” you asked.
His heart swelled. “Of course.”
Dropping down into the hole, he worked alongside you to pull out the remaining stakes, tossing them outside the pit and rooting around in the muck for the broken ones at the bottom.
Jack helped you climb out of the hole, followed you up, assisted in gathering up the stakes, hefting most of them in his arms.
You stood at the edge of the hole for a few more minutes, staring down into the darkness at the bottom.
When you faced him, Jack saw something like peace flicker over your features. Brief and fleeting, but there, capable of returning.
You started off toward the car, Jack falling into step beside you. Hope smoldered in his chest, his heart knocking against his ribs with it.
“Platanos maduros,” you said.
“What?”
“You asked me if there was anything I wanted you to cook specifically. I’ve heard platanos maduros are really sweet.” You met his gaze. “Can you make those?”
The stakes nearly tumbled out of his arms. Nodding vigorously, he answered, “Yes, most definitely. I have plantains already.”
“Good. All this work’s made me hungry.”
The bounce returning to his step, Jack beamed with burning hope, as bright in the darkness as the moon.
174 notes · View notes
undertheopensky · 8 months
Text
Moorhaunt 1
Whumptober Day 4: “You in there?”
Characters: Legend, Four, Hyrule, everyone’s kind of there
Trigger warnings: Discussions of suicide and self-harm
Read on Ao3!
-----
It takes them way too long to realise Legend is missing.
This is Hyrule’s Hyrule. They should never have lost track of one of their own, not in a place this dangerous. How could they have lost someone, lost Legend of all people? Not even Wild goes wandering alone here, there are so many monsters, traps and poisons and people who aren’t. How could he have lost someone?
Frantic barking distracts Hyrule from his panic. Wolfie comes barrelling out of the woods and skids to a stop on the trail in front of them. He yips twice, as if to make sure he’s got their attention, before diving back into the underbrush the way he’d come.
“Wolfie’s got something,” says Time, unnecessarily; everyone’s already racing after the wolf.
They follow the sound of him more than anything. The undergrowth here is dry and sickly, and makes a lot of noise when a hundred kilograms of anxious wolf goes crashing through it. Dead leaves drift to the ground in his wake, only to be stirred up again by seven pairs of boots. How far off trail did Legend go? Why?
By the time they make it to Twilight, Wolfie has vanished, job done. Hyrule gets a good look and stops dead.
Twilight’s wrist deep in the black haze hugging Legend’s upper body. “I can’t - I can’t touch it,” he’s saying, panicked. “I found him like this and he’s still breathing, but -”
“Oh no,” Hyrule moans. “No no no no no -”
He’s only seen them twice before. But the creeping black fog, too cohesive to be anything but alive, clinging and crawling and strangling -
“It’s a moorhaunt.”
“You know what it is? Great! How do we kill it?” Warriors is all business.
“We can’t, we - it’ll hurt Legend, we have to get it off first -”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know!” Hyrule wails. “It’s not - it should already be - be drifting between us, trying to feed from all of us at once, they don’t just - they’re opportunists, not true predators, this makes no sense -”
“Hyrule, breathe,” Time interrupts. “How much time do we have? How long before this is fatal?”
Hyrule bites his lip. “It’s - it’s not. Not directly. Moorhaunts don’t kill their hosts.”
That ratchets the tension down - somewhat. It looks bad - like Legend’s wearing a thick hood of shadows - but he is breathing, steady and strong, and he’s sitting upright without aid. They’re not running on a deadline. Warriors just narrows his eyes.
“If it’s not lethal, then why are you so scared?”
Hyrule flinches, mouth wobbling, then firms up his shoulders and makes himself say it. “About seventy percent of people commit suicide, within a week of the attack.”
Everyone jolts. Twilight casts a horrified look at Legend, still sitting placidly on his knees with a black haze shrouding his face.
Hyrule continues, “About ten percent recover okay. The rest of them… seem to recover, but within a month or so, as soon as someone takes their eyes off them -” he cuts himself off with a grim twist to his mouth. “Well. There’s a reason they were hunted almost to extinction in the Hero of Legend’s time.”
“Okay, so what do we do about it now?”
The noise Hyrule makes is somewhere between distress and despair. He doesn’t know.
Warriors breaks into his panic. “Hyrule. You said, ‘host’, and that it should be trying to feed on us, too. What exactly is its food source?”
“They’re… a kind of energy parasite. That’s why we can’t just - cut it off, it’s all up in Legend’s life force, it might - it could hurt him if we do anything to it, I don’t usually deal with them when they have a - have a person already, or if they do they’re willing to jump for me and then I can kill them -”
Again, Warriors stops him. “Hyrule, what’s its food source?”
“It’s - pain. Not physical pain, but -” Hyrule scratches at his ear, then his neck; his skin is prickling all over. “They don’t - cause pain. They just - trigger it. They infiltrate the host’s mind, and force them - make them relive their worst memories. And they feed off the pain it causes them.”
Warriors isn’t the only one to jerk back. Hyrule’s shaking like a leaf just standing next to the thing. All of them have things in their pasts they don’t like to think about. To have those things come alive again - trapped in your own memories, unable to escape -
“That’s why the suicides,” Four says, eyes dark. “And why it’s so fixated on Legend, I bet. He’s been through a lot. Why abandon a high-value food source for a less certain one, or one that’s less concentrated?”
Wind makes a high-pitched noise. “We gotta get it off him!”
“Think maybe we can intimidate it?” Twilight asks Warriors.
“I don’t want to -” Hyrule waves his hands and grimaces, struggling for words. “I’ve never dealt with one that’s so - entrenched. It’s wound right through Legend’s life force, and if we hurt it, or shock it, it might hurt him.”
“Well we can’t just leave him like this!” says Wind.
Theoretically, they could. The moorhaunt wouldn’t kill Legend. But what it put him through in the meantime - no, there has to be a way. He just has to think.
Four’s thinking too. “Hey, Hyrule. It took time to get this way, right? So that it’s hard for us to remove?”
“Yeah.”
“So if we can convince it onto someone else, there’s a window where we can kill it before there’s a risk of damage to the host. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but - it hasn’t reacted to any of us at all.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” One small hand pulls the feather earring from his ear and tucks it away. “Just get it off me as fast as you can.”
Then before anyone can protest, he’s kneeling right next to Legend.
The response is immediate - the moorhaunt visibly loosens its grip. It’s not like an octorock, with distinct, visible appendages; it just - expands in space, becoming slightly more transparent, like the black fog is lifting, or spreading. Then a tendril reaches out, light and fine as black silk fibre, to stroke Four’s face, almost curiously.
Four doesn’t flinch.
The moorhaunt shifts to Four in layers of gossamer black. Dark haze peels away from Legend to wrap around the smaller smithy, and it’s terrifying to watch his face disappear under the dark veil, but Legend’s becoming more and more visible as it eases free of him.
The last few wisps linger, reluctant to leave behind their last meal, but Four takes a deep breath and draws them in.
Like its psychic grip had been the only thing holding him up, Legend slumps sideways. Hyrule grabs him, sends a useless pulse of healing through him - he knows it won’t do any good but it’s instinct when Legend is so pale and drawn.
Dried tear tracks trail from unseeing red eyes, tight with pain. With the moorhaunt gone, they start to flutter closed, exhaustion draining the last of his strength. But his heart is still strong, and his breathing is steady - for now, for now, he’s okay.
“Hyrule - is he clear?”
Hyrule triple-checks. There’s nothing in Legend’s aura but his own tired energies.
He nods. “Yeah - kill it.”
Sky wastes no time. He draws the Master Sword, and almost delicately flicks it through the moorhaunt, as close to Four as he dares.
The scream is warping metal and wind through hollows. Sky slashes again, chasing the shadow’s retreat, and this time, it fades away to nothing; burned to ash in the light.
Four falls.
Legend is stable. Hyrule leaves him with Twilight and bolts for Four, supported against Time’s armour and tears coursing down his face. No, no, no, it was only a few seconds, he’ll be okay, he’s got to be okay. “Four? Four, talk to me. Do you remember where you are?”
Four’s jaw is clamped shut, and he’s making no move to answer. A faint tremble is starting to make itself known in his hands where they hang loose at his sides. He’d only been under a few minutes, but he’s in the same empty-eyed state as Legend.
“Fuck,” Hyrule mutters, “fuck.”
He scrubs his hands over his face, then runs them up through his hair and pulls. Two people down. In the middle of a dead forest. Black-blooded monsters yet to be found. They’re all tired, and stressed, and desperately worried.
Hyrule hates being in charge. But nobody else here knows the wastelands of his kingdom like he does.
“We need - we need to find a safe place to stay put for a few days.”
“The fairy fountain?” Time offers. It was where they’d been headed originally, before Legend went missing.
“No.” Hyrule’s refusal visibly surprises them. “No, that’s too enclosed, too much chance of an ambush.”
Warriors scowls. “Then why were we going there in the first place?”
“Because it is safe, briefly. But the entrance is a bottleneck, and if monsters realise you’re there, all they have to do is camp out by the entrance until you leave. And we’re going to need somewhere to make camp for several days at least.” The healer’s face is grim. “These two won’t be fit to travel for a while.”
Everyone’s gaze slides sideways.
Legend almost looks like he’s dozing, collapsed into Twilight’s side. There’s no way to make the same mistake with Four - he’s crying, shaking. Every now and then he shudders, and swallows, gaze fixed on something none of them can see. He’d done it to save Legend, without demand, without complaint. Hyrule still feels sick with guilt.
“It’s okay,” he whispers through the tightness in his throat, “it’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”
Through it all, Four doesn’t make a sound.
-----
Read Part 2 here!
32 notes · View notes
switch-writer · 7 months
Note
Can I request Johnny Cage hcs? He has such chaotic switch energy
Tumblr media
Johnny Cage Tickle Headcanons
Tumblr media
A/N: As a Johnny Cage fan since MK9, I love how Johnny SINGLE-HANDEDLY managed to get people who never played Mortal Kombat to love it. Its honestly too funny 😭 But! I love Johnny, he was always a fun little character. Nonetheless. It was fun writing these due to his goofy personality. Do enjoy!
• Right out of the way, he might as well have a sixth sense of telling if someone is ticklish and how to get them laughing, where to poke, etc.
• His energy is infinite so his hands will be jumping all over the place and tickle anywhere he can reach. He likes to jump from spot to spot. Very all over the place.
• He’ll stop once someone needs him to. He pushes people a little bit, but as long as they’re laughing and trying to push him off, he’ll stop for them. He’s kind hearted.
• …Although. You will certainly persuade him much easier if you feed him a compliment or two… or three… or many.
• “You want me to stop? Alright alright… BUT! First off! Who’s the most talented movie star out there? What was that? Say that again? Can’t hear you over the laughter!”
• He will also playfully put on a announcer voice and say things like “And the most ticklish fighter in the world goes to…!”
• He’ll often shove someone back down when they try to get up. If they have long hair? He shoves it in their face. Wearing a hat? In their face so they can’t see. Etc.
• He’d also probably take photos with the person quickly while they’re smiling then quickly go right back to tickles.
• His goal is just to make the person laugh any means necessary, including silly actions to make sure he succeeds.
• Once he knows someone is ticklish, he’d probably take a jab at their sides every so often and have a big grin that basically screams his cockiness. Almost as if he’s trying to say ‘I still know’ and so he can dangle it over their head.
• He’d also give a eyebrow raise whenever someone who’s ticklish snarks off, and wiggle his fingers as if to send the hint that they should watch it or else the movie star is gonna rush over and do his usual mischievous (and slightly annoying) acts.
• Despite all of this, this is probably as often as the rest of his antics. He’d tickle someone every so often just as he’d shove a camera in someone’s face every so often with the flash on.
• That being said, he knows when to be serious, and knows when someone is being direct with him. He’s a actor and knows what to look for in body language.
• …He’d still give a little poke though.
• And that leads to the flip side of things.
• He’s someone to slowly back away with his hands up and go ‘woah woah! Lets get rational here.’ With a nervous smile.
• He’d consider running but his ego says it’d be too cowardly, however, he can’t handle when someone stares at him in a dead serious manner yer clearly has the intent to tickle him. He’ll run. The seriousness makes Johnny panic even more so he’ll bolt it. Other than that, he’ll stand his ground.
• He’ll constantly grab at the other person’s hands to block them. If you’ve played MK11, you remember the mime time move where he’ll act like a mime and if you hit him, he’ll basically reflect the attack/block it then immediately hit the other person (sorta similar to his fatal blow in MK1) so think of it like that. He’ll grab hands when they come at him and try and flip the tables.
• He will flail, he kicks, he’ll wiggle, he will do anything to dodge the tickles. So sit on his waist and he’ll be a sitting duck. Straddle him or pin him or else you’ll have. 50% percent chance of being kicked.
• Once the tickles actually start? His hands will auto focus on getting your hands off. His nerves freak out and therefore his hands flip out and frantically try and get the sensations off. But he’ll usually give in after the first minute because he loses most of his strength.
• But his actual laugh is extremely contagious, it probably sounds a little goofy and a touch more high pitched than his normal laugh, but it’s a contagious laugh that’s loud. He’ll also sometimes start silent laughing at his limit.
• He’ll start backpedaling the moment the tickles start.
• Johnny maybe bold with his actions, such as when he takes pictures when tickling someone, but if someone takes a photo or dare I say a video of him, his face will go tomato red. He isn’t a man easily embarrassed, but there’s things that make him tomato red, and that’s one of them.
• If that video is ever mentioned, he will quiet down fast too.
• He’ll be a major giggler after the tickles stop. He’ll just slowly get up as he giggles, fixing his shades with a giggle. The tingles will linger for a moment with him.
• He’ll usually be mellow for the next 30 minutes or so too. He’ll be quieter and less obnoxious, but he’ll chat normally.
• Johnny also likes teasingly going ‘hey, 20 bucks a second’ just to quickly say it’s a joke in case someone tries to tickle persuasion into him, one look that hints tickles, he’ll quickly clear it up.
• Over all, Johnny thinks it’s amusing to do it to others, and is greatly embarrassing when he’s on the receiving end. But… it’s mostly fun, so that’s what matters to him!
Hopefully you enjoyed!
28 notes · View notes
Here we go! The introductory for this funny little AU!! This more or less takes place a few days after the events of the game! Either way, hope y'all enjoy it!!
Update [April 4th, 2023]:
[posts are labelled as pg# in the tags. start here is the tag to go to the beginning of the ask posts]
Update [April 7th, 2023]:
[all posts that answer story asks now have the tag ask post attached to them.]
Introductory to Melted Memories
_____________________________________________
Too bright…
Too hot…
Too loud…
It was almost too much for the melty mass to take in.
Peppino….no…no that's not its name…did it even have a name other than what the others called it? Fake Peppino? Feppino? Those were the only names that it was ever called….
It guesses that Feppino will have to do for now…
Either way, it missed it's home in the tower, nice and cool, a little bit dark, and quiet for the most part…until Peppino showed up and destroyed the tower.
It wasn't angry at Peppino for doing so, after all, he did have the courtesy of leading it and the others out of that place.
But now it didn't know where to go. It's restaurant was gone, the tower was gone, everything that it knew was gone. Nothing but rubble now, so there was no going back.
It slipped and glooped through the underbrush, hoping to find something, or even someone, that was familiar to it.
That's when it spotted a ginormous rat sitting by the back of a building.
Feppino sludged it's way into a nearby dumpster, peeping out of it to observe.
It watched as the back door of the building swung open, and a short mustachioed chef stepped out, a bulging garbage bag over his shoulder.
The small man pulls a good piece of cheese from the bag, and feeds it to the gargantuan rodent, petting it's nose before throwing the bag into a nearby trashcan, and heading back inside.
Feppino slips out from the dumpster, snagging a half-eaten sandwich from it. It presents the sandwich to the rat.
The rat in question, sniffs the sandwich, and tentatively takes it from the melty man with its hands, and nibbles on the free food with content.
Feppino gives a gurgled giggle, giving the rat a pat on the nose, just as he saw the small man do, before entering the back door.
It slinked it's way through the kitchen, keeping out of sight as it silently followed the small man, all the way to the walk-in freezer, slipping inside of it before the small man could see it.
It was cold….dark.…quiet….it was no tower, but it felt just right….
Feppino wedged itself in between some boxes of frozen dough, getting perfectly comfy as it became the freezer's newest resident. Perhaps taking a little nap wouldn't hurt….
----------------------------------------------------------
Gustavo washed his hands in the sink before returning up to the front to where Peppino was, the latter frantically trying to keep up with orders.
Peppino wasn't one to really complain about the influx of new customers, but he did slightly wish that they were, well, more on the normal side. Most of the people that were milling about his restaurant, were the fiends that he met back in the tower, the ones he had to toss around and run through in his escapade to mow through the place. But now? With the tower gone, there was no place for them to go, other than the closest building that they could find. That place, being Peppino's own restaurant. 
Needless to say, he was just glad that they weren't trying to attack him.
As soon as Gustavo came up to him, he handed him some order receipts, urging him to help get them started.
Gustavo simply nods, and rushes back to the kitchen, clipping the orders up on a small rack to maintain them, keeping one off to the side, an order for a cheese supreme, complete with stuffed crust.
He pulls out a few pizza pans, greasing them up with some olive oil before running to the freezer to grab some dough out to defrost. But when he opens it, he's quite confused by what he sees.
Wedged between the boxes was what looked like….
Gustavo peeked out to the front counter, and saw a frantic Peppino, trying to keep up with orders, and deal with rowdy customers.
Looking back in the freezer, he saw something that appeared to be someone, or better yet something, that looked like Peppino, but just…really off. Despite it being scrunched up in a ball, the differences between it and the real Peppino were subtle, yet obvious.
Gustavo steps into the freezer, hesitantly approaching the strange being. It looked like it was asleep at the moment, so he tried to keep as quiet as possible to avoid waking it up.
He gets a better look at the odd creature, becoming more worried as he makes note of its seemingly half-melted appearance.
He leaves the freezer to retrieve Peppino.
----------------------------------------------------------
"And for the last time, NO! WE DON'T PUT PICKLES, ON-A THE PIZZA!"
Peppino has only known The Noise for a few days, and already had the yellow-suited nuisance on his shitlist.
"Uhm, hey uh….Peppino? Can I talk to you?"" Gustavo asks worriedly as he approaches the angry Italian.
"What's goin' on back-a there Gustavo? We gotsa lot of hungry customers!" Peppino wasn't one to really yell at Gustavo, sure, they would squabble with each other every now and then, but it was never anything that got out of hand.
Gustavo wrings his hands. "Well, uh….you might-a need to come and see this…."
Peppino groans, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fine, but we gotta make this quick…"
Gustavo leads Peppino back into the kitchen, and to the door of the freezer. "Just keep-a your voice down…."
Peppino is already worried about the request. He takes a deep breath and gives Gustavo a nod to open the door.
Upon opening the door, Peppino is hit with a wave of anxiety as his gaze lands upon the creature in the freezer. Memories from a few days ago surface in his mind; a decrepit pizzeria, sludgy copies of himself, and a chase through a labyrinthic basement. Drops of sweat already appearing on his forehead as he bites on his knuckle.
"...Peppino? Are you ok?" Gustavo asks nervously, looking up at his stress-filled co-worker.
Before Peppino could respond, the creature begins to stir, lazily opening it's droopy eyes, and unfolding lanky legs. Peppino would've yelled if it hadn't been for Gustavo's hand slapping over his mouth to stop him.
The creature takes a moment to readjust itself, but freezes upon meeting the gaze of the two Italians, Peppino being the one it knew all too well. After all, it was made to mimic him….it tries to wedge itself back in between the boxes, squishing itself back into place.
Peppino stares in anxious confusion. He somewhat expected it to jump at him or something….
"Hey Peppino….now that I'm-a thinkin' about it…isn't that one of the people from-a the tower?" Gustavo asks, removing his hand from Peppino's face.
"Uh…y…yeah…somethin' like-a that….." truth be told, Peppino had no idea on what was going on here. All he could think of was the first time that he had met it. The placid smile it wore, the distorted scream it made, not to mention the way it looked when it finally chased him out, a forfeit by it on technicality. But it was nothing like that now, probably since it wasn't on its own turf, and yet, it still made Peppino unsure about, well, anything.
He grumbles. "Well," Peppino starts off, "best to get it outta here before it causes trouble…"
Gustavo wasn't fond of that idea. Sure he was a little scared, but that wasn't going to deter him for long. He goes to approach the strange creature, sitting on the floor to be at eye level with it before looking back at Peppino. "Maybe he's just as scared as you are Peppino….I mean, just-a look at the poor thing!"
Peppino was looking, how could he not? It was right there in front of him, but Gustavo was right, it did seem a bit skittish.
Gustavo turns back to the creature in the shelf, speaking softly in an attempt to calm it and to coax it from it's spot.
The creature timidly moves out from the shelf, placing a hand on the floor, but keeps glancing between Peppino and Gustavo.
Gustavo offers a hand to it, to which it tentatively takes, slowly removing itself from the shelf and unfolding to its full height, but remaining somewhat hunched over as it looks to Peppino with a nervous gaze.
"Look! He's-a completely harmless! He can stay with us!" Gustavo says to his co-worker cheerfully.
Peppino's brow furrows, still unsure of his distorted funhouse mirror of a copy.
"...I dunno Gus…."
Gustavo puts his free hand on his hip. "Boun dio Peppino, just give him a chance! Besides, we could always use another set of hands around here!"
Peppino crossed his arms and hummed in thought. Gustavo was right about them being short-staffed, seeing as how it had always just been the two of them for the longest time, but then again, they never had this many customers before….
Peppino lets out a deep sigh, admitting defeat.
"Alright, fine, he can stay….as long as he doesn't cause trouble, and earns his keep."
It gives Peppino a wobbly grin, already pulling dough from the boxes, as if it already knew what to do.
Gustavo simply smiles as he helps their new employee to get started in the kitchen.
99 notes · View notes
calmedgoose-blog · 3 months
Text
Played Frantic Fanfic for the first time with @bookwermthings and @prettiest-ghoul-at-the-party recently, here’s how the fics I started turned out!!
TITLE: GG Gets Jealous
FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: gg the giraffe, the spine's pet roomba
WRITERS: goose!, bookwerm, summer
RATED ALL AGES
The Spine had come home with something new today. GG was immensely curious as to what this might be.. and then she saw it. A small robotic creature gliding gracefully across the floor, a small pink bow sat atop it's head.
'oh my god.' GG thought, 'its adorable.' GG could not stand for this. Another creature in the house? To steal her thunder? No way, this meant war. GG immediately marched over to the Roomba and snatched the bow from it's head. affixing it to her own ear before smugly strutting right past the group of automatons talking in the hallway. The Roomba following closely behind. As GG slowed down to show off her bow, the Roomba ran right over her
--------------------
"Aaaaah," GG screamed, her high pitched robot voice grating to human ears. "Guys, this stupid ugly thing just attacked me! For no reason!"
Zer0 looked at her and then looked at the Roomba.
"REalLy?" he said. He hid behind The Spine.
The Spine glared at her.
"I can see one obvious reason why Roomba here might not like you. You stole their bow!"
Rabbit laughed. "C'mon, guys, I've heard of Roombas! For St. Nicholas' sake, they don't have brains! How could it be offended by anything?"
With that, the Roomba sped up and ran over Rabbit's toes.
--------------------
"WaAAAAAAAA WHAT's WROng WIth thE ROOMBA" Rabbit exclaimed, jumping in place and holding her foot as if her pain receptors hadn't been damaged there.
The Spine shook his head before walking over to the Roomba. "Now, Roomba, we don't run over people. That being said..." he removed his bowtie and fixed it to Roomba, patting it's head and sending it along it's merry way. "shine bright, Roomba."
GG glared at the Roomba, before angrily taking off her bow and throwing it over to the Roomba, who greedily attempted to eat it.
"N00000000 R00MBA D0N'T D0 THAAT" Zer0 exclaimed, chasing after Roomba with a box of nuts (as in nuts and screws, not the food). He sprinkled some in his hand, attempting to get Roomba to go over to him. This naturally didn't work very well, until he accidentally dropped one on the floor.
However, Roomba didn't get it's little metal treat. Spine picked them up with a huff, beginning to walk to the Hall of Wires.
"You guys can play with Roomba too once you stop being so dangerous. First GG steals their clothes, then Rabbit insults them, and now GG and Zer0 are feeding them poisons... someone has to care for the newest member of the family. So, farewell, if you need me I'll be in my room." He said as he walked, sparing a distressed look over his shoulder.
It was a good thing he did, because then GG was there, tackling him to the floor to get to the Roomba. Or at least, trying to. It was more like she threw herself at his head and hit him square in the face. It wasn't very effective.
She tried to grab the Roomba, who robotically hissed at her. Spine yelled at GG, shaking her off of his arm while holding Roomba away from her.
"YOU CANT BE TRUSTED GG."
Fanfic created with #FranticFanfic.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
TITLE: there is no such thing as goldfishing
FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: bebop, hatchworth
WRITERS: goose!, bookwerm, summer
RATED ALL AGES
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS GOLDFISHING
Hatchworth strutted casually into the workshop of Walter Manor. It wasn't long before he was greeted by a certain blue A.I. on a nearby screen.
"Welcome back, Hatchworth." Beebop called as the robot walked into the room.
"Hello Beebop! was a successful day of Goldfishing." Hatchworth sighed
--------------------
Bebop tutted.
"Did you catch any Gold fish, then?"
"Of course not. But, you know how it goes."
Bebop did not know how it went, and Hatchworth was sure of this fact. Because he had not gone Goldfishing today. He had never gone Goldfishing. Day after day he went out, night after night he came back. He never had any Goldfish, but no one questioned him. Stranger things had happened.
No, Hatchworth had been, you guessed it... time travelling!
It took a lot of effort
--------------------
for him to jump, but the blue portals he created made it easier. After the first time he had realized he could transcend time, he had picked up the hobby, trying to avoid that terrible future he had seen.
He thought about it and shuddered, remembering the way Kazooland had seemed in shambles after the Beciles had overtaken everything for that stupid green rock candy.
"Bebop, I think I'm gonna go."
"Go where?" Bebop asked as inquisitively as they could.
"I... I don't know. But I need to go somewhere. There, uh, there's no good goldfishing spots here." Hatchworth replied tentatively. He knew that once he left, there was no coming back. The Jon and Upgrade had made that clear enough by not visiting. But if he was going to save Kazooland, someone needed to be there who could see what made things go wrong.
"Just tell the others I'm going on a trip. See ya, Bebop". He said as he opened that final portal.
Fanfic created with #FranticFanfic.
11 notes · View notes
the12thnightproject · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
My @flash-exchange fic is for @iphigeniainaulis , who listed Mitsunari as one of her favorites. I never need any encouragement to write about our lovely shy strategist.
Title: The Root of the Problem
Mitsunari x Mai
Prompt: cockroach/bugs
Content warnings: cockroach/bugs
The trouble begins with a carrot.
It is no secret that Mitsunari hates carrots, and goes to great lengths to avoid eating them. Conversely, Hideyoshi and Masamune both believe that carrots are a necessary dietary component and go to equally great lengths to feed them to him. Stir-fried carrots, carrot preserves; even mochi with carrot filling (which in retrospect, everyone agrees had been a terrible idea, even for those who like carrots) find their way into his meals. No matter how distracted he is, how deep into a book, Mitsunari unerringly avoids the orange root, and his dishes, when returned to the kitchens, always contain uneaten carrots.
However, this particular troublesome carrot did not find its way back to the kitchen. Instead, it fell onto the desk, rolled across the room, coming to a stop behind a pile of books. Now… had this incident occurred in winter, the carrot would have eventually fossilized and been swept away by a maid. Unfortunately…
It is summer.
A very hot summer.
A very hot humid summer.
Thus, the wayward carrot sits alone in the soggy heat to do what leftovers do. Until what remains of the carrot is discovered by a-
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Even Mitsunari’s famous focus can be broken, especially when Mai is in trouble. Before she finishes screaming, he leaps to his feet, alert to an attack, just as she throws herself into his arms. Correctly interpreting this action to mean there is no immediate danger, he hugs her close, the adrenaline rush subsiding with that sense of peace that she always brings. She is the ocean at low tide, her presence calmly shimmering like the waves in sunlight.
He gently strokes her hair, marveling at how perfectly she fits in the space between his shoulder and chin. When her initial fright fades, and she moves to step away, he draws her back in, wishing to continue their embrace, continue breathing her for a while longer. Maybe, maybe… since she is already in his arms, he can take the opportunity to kiss her.
It wouldn’t be the first time an afternoon of work has been replaced by a few stolen hours together… in his bed… on the desk… and on one lovely Autumn day, under a tree by the lake.
He leans closer, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to her forehead, waiting for a sign that she too wants to forgo their tasks, waiting for that moment when her breath catches, and she smiles into his eyes and…
A frantic Hideyoshi skids into the room, sword aloft. “I heard screaming.”
“Oh.” The now blushing Mai turns toward him. “Sorry. I saw a bug.”
“A bug.” Hideyoshi glances around the room, scowling when he spots the (admittedly large) cockroach feasting on the rotting carrot.
“Yeucch.” Mai shudders and buries her face in Mitsunari’s shoulder again.
Within moments, Hideyoshi efficiently relocates the bug, disposes of the corpse of the carrot (or more correctly - relocates the carrot and disposes of the corpse of the bug), and proceeds to deliver a lengthy lecture about the necessity of eating your vegetables and keeping your quarters clear of rotting food. “I expect you will, from now on, eat what is set in front of you.”
Knowing this was a moment for diplomacy, Mitsunari makes a quick “hmm” that he hopes Hideyoshi interprets as assent.
But with Mai comfortably nestling against his chest, her breath soft on his neck, her thrumming pulse calling to his own - Mitsunari is sure of one thing…
… He will not be eating carrots.
33 notes · View notes
homeofhousechickens · 2 years
Note
Ive noticed on chicken forums a lot of people reccomend not interacting with roosters to stop aggression. They'll say "dont pet him, dont let him sit on your lap, dont get too close, dont hand feed, walk very slowly around him, etc." I see people with house roosters interacting with them all the time. Is that wrong? These people make Roosters sound like wild animals and not domesticated pets. Whats the point of having one if you always have to either fear them or pretend they dont exist. Otherwise you're "making them think hes dominate and he'll become aggressive."
Its bunk science. Those people typically also believe if you pin your rooster down or hang him upside down you can "dominate" him and he will "submit" to you but that really only leads to more defensiveness and more fear. So many chickens are hatchery birds and they are the chicken equivalent of inbred puppy mill dogs, aggression and other behavioural issues are incredibly common (feather picking for example) in some cases it really is just bad genetics "hatchery bird" or not.
Handling a rooster more and making him part of your routine can actually help aggression. Some people can cure an aggressive roo just by carrying him under their arm doing farm chores while feeding hin treats and sometimes you have to actually have to train him via positive reinforcement and counter conditioning but that takes time, consistency, and patience which is in short supply for most people.
There is also the problem of some people misinterpreting their roos behavior in the first place. A well handled young cockerel might find himself temporarily infatuated with your feet or hands when he is coming into his hormones. He might nip and try to mount them and for someone who has been taught roosters are naturally violent and mean they tend to think this is purely a violent attack and react via kicking or running away which can then cause a genuine pattern of fear. The moment that foot makes contact or someone runs away frantically a negative pattern has been established which can lead to actual acts of aggression like spurring.
In those situations like with the young cockerel simply redirecting him on to a stuffed toy can stop that behavior towards you. Seperating hormonal cockerels by themselves while they are coming into their hormones so they dont have hens to feel defensive about is also huge help and something to really consider. Having him away from those stressers at that critical time can help with not establishing negative patterns and it will allow any pullets he grew up with to mature peacefully without a horny boy bothering them. I really really suggest the stuffed animal and to seperate rowdy boys when they first come into their hormones.
116 notes · View notes
icequeenlila · 6 months
Text
He's my Arkenstone- Steddie
Tumblr media
From chapter 1- 'Cafe Latte'
“You're feeling better?”, he heard Steve ask.
Eddie looked up at him to see him point to his neck.
“Oh”, Eddie said. “Yeah. Still stings like a bitch, but compared to killer bats feeding on me alive, it's really not that bad.”
He was aiming for the conversation to go back to its joking rhythm, but Steve's eyes just widened in shock.
“The bites!”, he whisper-shouted. “I completely forgot about them!”
And before he knew it, Eddie had a worried Steve Harrington kneeling in front of him, in the middle of the parking lot, for everyone to see.
“Did the coffee go through the bandages?”, Steve asked, his hands frantically feeling him up.
Well, hello there.
“Did it burn the skin beneath? Are you in pain?”
And because Eddie was too baffled to answer, way too distracted by the sudden sensation of the man's hands on his body, Steve just lifted up (lifted up!) Eddie's sticky shirt, to take a look at the damage.
The damage that wasn't there. It's been around two months since the bats. Eddie wasn't wearing any bandages anymore. So, all Steve got to see was pale skin littered with reddish scar tissue, where the wounds had healed over.
So, that was that. They were sitting there, Steve on his knees between Eddie's legs, holding up his shirt and starring at his torso. Eddie still sitting halfway in the car, too shocked to move, hands still pressing cold packs to his neck and just starring at the man in front of him.
What a sight to see.
“Well that escalated quickly”, Robin's voice appeared out of nowhere.
They both jumped, like they had been electrocuted. Steve falling flat on his back and Eddie hitting his head on the roof of the car.
“Ouch”, he said the second time today, letting himself fall back into the seat and squeezing his eyes shut.
“What the fuck, Buckley!”, he heard Steve's voice. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Eddie put one of the cold packs to his now dully pounding head, and watched Steve scrambling up from the hard pavement. He noticed the way Steve's hand moved to the small of his back, like he was in pain there. Well, falling to the ground after feeling up your friend sure could bring some back pain with it.
Eddie could still feel his skin tingle where Steve had touched him before. And now he had to put the pack from his head to his face, to stop himself from blushing. Not that it worked. He probably was as red as Carrie, when those assholes dumped a bucket of blood onto her.
Somehow his brain falls back onto Stephen King metaphors, most times he gets nervous. Similar to Bilbo Baggins, who always thinks about food, when faced with trouble.
Okay, now that was just his nerd mind, trying to distract himself from the situation. Almost successfully.
“Don't scream at me, dingus”, Robin retorted. “It's not like you two were all that subtle.” She put a hand on her hip, the other still holding on to the cart. “If I must remember you two lovie dovies, it's still the middle of the day and we're on the parking lot of our local shopping market. Which is pretty much the most public place in all of Hawkins.”
She threw up her hands (letting go of the cart) to make clear how done she was with the both of them. “If I can see you, everyone can!” She paused. “Unless that's what you want … then congratulations, I guess.”
She didn't catch the desperate look Steve shot her, because she went off with a yelp, chasing the cart that had decided to go on an adventure, rolling towards a pretty expensive looking Jeep.
Eddie blinked in confusion.
“Uh ...” He looked at Steve, face still partially hidden behind the cold pack. “What was that about?”
Steve was kinda bouncing, like there was suddenly too much energy inside his body that he desperately tried to contain.
“That”, he said a little too loud, his face bright red. “Was Robin being her usual self.” He tried to grin, but it turned out as a painfully comedic grimace. “Namely, being stupid.”
“Okay”, Eddie said slowly, eying Steve skeptically.
What the hell was going on? And did Robin just call them … lovie dovies? Since when was that a word? And how, in the name of everything that was holy and Dustin's mum, did it apply to Steve and himself?
How would Robin even know about Eddie's crush? He never actually told her about it. She knew he was gay, but Eddie had never mentioned his crush.
Well, maybe she had picked it up from all the flirting on his part. Or maybe…? Or maybe?
He stared up at Steve, who was still really flustered and still very bouncing. The red on his cheeks could have been from the sun. But what if it wasn't? What if Steve Harrington had talked to his best friend about … Eddie?
Stupid! Shut up brain! Not in a million years. Not even if he had to choose between you and Vecna!
Even though he mentally yelled at himself for even thinking about the possibility of Steve Harrington actually liking him back, the pounding in his chest indicated that his heart wasn't cooperating.
So. Well. Fuck.
+
Sooooo, this is a fic that is sleeping on my ao3 account. I paused on it ... a year ago. But my brother finally (FINALLY) listened to me and started watching Stranger Things. So I got inspired and revisited my baby. First chapter is now edited (there are currently 4 out). Idk I felt like showing you some. It's an easy, slice of life like fic. Light, light angst (I know shocker). There is some plot but mostly the gang is just having a good time together.
If you decide to give it a look, be warned. This was my very first fic ever on AO3. It has a few spelling/grammar mistakes and formating is ... weird. The first chapter is now all good. I'll do the others too sometime. (Also I don't expect anyone to read it, I just feel very fond of the fic and wanted to share)✨✨✨
Here's the Link (just in case): https://archiveofourown.org/works/41355684
(copy paste) (hope it works)
12 notes · View notes
whumpsical · 1 year
Text
Febuwhump Day 10: Difficulty Breathing
@febuwhump
contents: noncon, asphyxiation, asthma attack, fear of death
ehehe Jian has been having a bad crossover time with @yet-another-heathen 's Garcia <33
(do i include the regular taglist?? idk but no one can stop me @much-ado-about-whumping @minerscanary )
🏋‍♂️🏋‍♂️🏋‍♂️🏋‍♂️🏋‍♂️
"Oh, fu-- FUCK! Please, I ca--" Jian's voice gave out into silent, half-strangled gasps as Garcia shifted his weight and found an even more constricting spot on Jian's back to keep him pinned to the floor beneath Garcia's arm. The air grew sluggish in Jian's lungs, and he could feel his body getting steadily weaker while his thoughts ramped up into an electric mess of miserable, defeated panic.
It wasn't until a few long moments after Jian's eyes had fluttered and rolled back that Garcia released the pressure on Jian's chest.
Jian's brain buzzed to life with his first breath of free air. Every racing thought was torturously loud and completely nonsensical, and for a second Jian could only think of tripping hard on a sticky barstool, leaning back against the bar and watching teams of bachelorettes grind on their gay friends for the fun of it, comprehending nothing of their conversations beneath the overwhelming barrage of the speakers and the hazy filter of the drugs.
Always so loud.
Jian gasped and coughed against the cold floor. But he could take much more than that, they both knew it.
"Please?"
It came out as a squeak, congested and exhausted, and was completely ignored as Garcia leaned down between Jian's shoulder blades again. The desperate breath that Jian had managed to suck in was pressed right back out before it could even reach his lungs, and that claustrophobic terror swept through his mind again, like a fire eating up fabric drapes.
All of Jian's muscles went frantically rigid. He tried with everything he had to get himself up off the floor, but he couldn't even move his arms enough to lay his palms flat. From just above him, Jian heard a quiet hitch in Garcia's breathing as his pathetic little instinctual struggle gave Garcia something tight to push through, but he still couldn’t stop himself from giving in to the panic and pointlessly trying to wrestle his life out of Garcia's hands.
It was too late. Jian was already slipping away again, his thoughts going dark and his hands going numb. Garcia relished in it, slowing his pace and deepening the roll of his hips as Jian's body went lax again and his head radiated heat from somewhere deep inside his skull, burning wobbling mirages into the air.
"Good boy," Garcia purred from somewhere near the back of Jian's head. "Like that."
There wasn't anything else he could do. As he finally passed out, Jian felt Garcia's hips rutting flush up against him with no resistance at all, as deep inside him as he could possibly go, and Jian knew the fucking perfectly trained puppy that had wormed its way into his subconscious had taken the praise with enthusiasm. A dry whimper managed to escape Jian's throat as he felt himself getting hard too, but he saw black again before the shame could hit him in full force.
He was underwater at first, then in the deep shade of a small tree, the smell of its leaves hanging thick in the muggy air. One trembling breath drew the sweet smell in, but when it came out as a heaving cough, Jian couldn't remember where he was.
Before he could find real flowing air again, Garcia's fucking scent refilled Jian's lungs, and he had never been anywhere except beneath this man.
Again.
Jian tried to stay calm through it, but he knew he would always hit that point where his head started screeching and his body stopped taking orders.
Again.
When he had air, it traveled in short huffs that did more to express his desperation than to feed his aching lungs, but it still wasn't good enough. Garcia only listened for a moment and pressed down again, satisfied with the conviction that Jian could survive another round.
Jian spent every conscious moment trapped in a splitting headache spawned by fear and exertion and dehydration. For every round of Garcia's fucking game, he felt more and more drawn to the unconscious instead. But he couldn't quite reach that peak and hold on to it.
This time, Jian could hardly take in his one allotted gasp through a crop of tears. He couldn't even consider faking the strained wheeze and the choked rattling sounds from deep in his chest that they were waiting for. The consequences of Garcia seeing through even one false performance could mean the end of his life right fucking there. All he could do was endure the horror of teasing death, over and over again, until his own lungs gave him an out.
But he'd had a lot of practice.
Again.
A rush of gratitude and relief welled through him when his breath didn't immediately return upon Garcia releasing pressure this time. Jian scrambled for purchase, gagging on an empty gasp, when Garcia took a handful of hair and tugged his head back, but the leverage he achieved with both of his hands finally solidly on the floor wasn't enough to clear his swelling airways. It was almost over, he told himself, but whether the end would come with a few puffs of his inhaler or a trip across the River fucking Styx he couldn’t tell yet. It was almost over, but of course Garcia was going to fucking come first.
The river grew closer, and Jian grew colder in its proximity. A large hand startled him from behind, and Garcia cupped Jian's throat in his palm, tipping his chin upward, gentle but uncompromising.
Jian had barely blinked his eyes open before he felt Garcia quicken his pace, thrusting into him with single-minded drive.
Just as he felt his mind start to sink away into some kind of dark, inescapable dream, Jian managed a choke. Then a cough, and finally a gasp, but it was like he was breathing through perforated plastic wrap.
Both of his knees knocked against the hard floor, every bone and joint echoing with radiant pain from every jolt. But he was breathing.
His breath rattled in his chest and he was barely getting enough to keep going, but he was breathing. Soon he found himself able to gasp in more quick shots of oxygen, and to whimper out wordless, terrified pleas when he wasn't coughing his fucking lungs out.
He couldn't take any more, they both knew it. But Garcia still pushed him just a bit harder, releasing Jian's throat to plant both hands on Jian's hips and force them to ram backwards into him, making Jian's head rattle around on the hard floor while he whimpered in a distant voice.
It was too close this time.
Garcia buried his teeth into Jian's left ear, tugged his head back and settled deep inside of him. Intentional or not, the pain and shock of it acted like a flimsy rip cord to Jian's spasming lungs, forcing one deep gasp through his inflamed airways.
It was still too close. Jian's vision was shadowed by a dark, gray-blue film, rotting at the edges. He didn't feel being pushed flat to the ground, or the inhaler that bounced off his shoulder, but he saw where it landed in front of him. He was almost too far gone to comprehend what was going on, much less to do anything about it. A rattling cough brought tears to his eyes, and the blurry darkness rapidly crawling inward from the edges of his vision sent a lightning bolt of fear into his heart.
He had to try. He had to fucking try or he was going to die.
One arm stretched over a slow, shaky path across the floor, but Jian's strength was too quickly waning, and he collapsed again into a dark sinkhole.
He stayed underground until something hard and plastic was forced into his mouth, and the slightly bitter taste of his rescue inhaler hit him like cool water on his face.
Jian’s thoughts swirled together like a funnel of water down a drain. It was still just as hard to breathe, but to administer the medication Garcia had dragged Jian's body up into a position that was becoming familiar: Jian sitting upright between Garcia's legs, his back pressed to Garcia's chest. In that half embrace, Jian suddenly didn't feel as frantic as he probably still should.
He felt drowsy, which he supposed might've been just as bad. But he had Garcia, who he supposed still wanted him alive, encouraging Jian's shallow, labored gasps for now.
Another puff of the rescue inhaler brought him closer to focus, just a reminder that he wasn't finished fighting this battle. 
"Come on, Jian," Garcia was saying quietly. He raked a hand through Jian's hair, sweeping sweaty curtains from his forehead. It was all very gentle, but not quite tender. Garcia was just as invested in Jian's suffering as he was in his recovery. "Keep breathing, baby."
Sure, Garcia may have been following Jian's struggle to stay alive like he was watching one of his wrestling championships. He probably would've been taking bets if they weren't alone. But at least for the moment, Garcia was soft and still, and his palms spread their settling warmth across Jian's chest and forehead. Of course Jian was going to soak it up while he could.
Of course he was. He’d had more than enough experience to know that you never passed up those rare comforts offered by a sadistic captor.
He did miss the mountains.
He wasn't going to think about that.
It was hard not to. North Carolina had charred every corner of Jian's brain, and there was no escaping that fact, especially not while lost in the whirlpool of violently uprooted thoughts and all their chaotic branches swirling around him.
But he would beat those memories to the frozen fucking ground if he had to. Not now.
He felt his heartbeat pounding wildly beneath the hand Garcia had pressed reassuringly over his chest, one finger lightly passing back and forth between his collarbones. Jian let one of his trembling, numb hands drift to Garcia's thigh and hold on. It felt like surrender, and he hoped it would be received that way, but he never fucking knew with this guy.
Nestling deeper into Garcia's lap and taking another puff of the inhaler which Garcia was still holding for him, Jian finally felt his lungs start to fill up a touch more comfortably. He still had a long way to go, but his harsh gasps had quieted down to thin, choppy wheezes. Compared to the deep, satisfied breaths that played across Jian's left ear from Garcia's contented fucking sighs behind him, Jian sounded like he was on the brink of death, which he might as well have been.
Jian wouldn't survive another intentionally triggered asthma attack any time soon, no matter how quickly Garcia medicated him afterwards. They both knew that. Jian just hoped he could find other ways to keep Garcia happy in the meantime, and that the bastard wouldn't get too bored and decide to give it a whirl anyway.
47 notes · View notes
stnaf-vn · 2 years
Note
I made this on a sugar high while watching horror films. Not sure if there should be a warning? Mentions of murder and panic attacks. I got the idea from two asks and heeeere we go!
______________________________________________________________
You choked back tears. The past nights had been nothing but fuel induced nightmares that have become physical attacks on your own being.
Scratch marks on your face, torso, and thighs. Deep purpled bruises littering your wrists. What the fuck was going on? You've been seeing a therapist, taking your meds for these panic attacks, hell you even stopped calling HIS cell phone. Voice mail after voice mail sent until it was full. You couldn't grasp why you kept doing this to yourself.
You turned your body as much as you could to face the mirror, more tears fell. Angry scratches and bruises painted your hips and back. Was this a punishment? Were you doomed to the torment yourself until you realized what you lost? You couldn't take this anymore.
Your sobbing was making it difficult to breath now, body feeling like a gasoline and a match was lit on your skin, mind growing fuzzy to your surroundings.
Bed. You needed to get to your bed. Now.
You scrambled from the confines of the bathroom, light almost seeming to pulse behind you. Feet sounding frantic on the wood floors. You were almost there. More tears. You had to hold him. Even through all the shit he put you through, you had to hold him one more time.
You stumbled through the bedroom door, tears obscuring your vision. "Friend?!", your sobs were on the verge of screeching. "FRIEND?!". God you sounded pathetic, pretending that he was still alive. Like you didn't wrap the chains around his neck when he let his guard down after feeding you. Like you didn't use your legs to cage his body against yours, as you tightened the links while he struggled to breathe, sobbing and asking you why till the very last rise of his chest.
Didn't you love him? Friend who kept you safe, kept you fed and warm, brought the sunshine on your cloudiest days. Why this, why didn't you love him enough?
Your screams were vibrating the windows now. All those memories, all those good memories of Friend just plaguing through you mind.
You didn't mean to do it. It was only suppose to knock him out. You just wanted to leave.
Shaky hands finally found purchase on the white plush rabbit. Your body folded in on itself, cradling the plushie close to your heart. You missed him, you missed the one who actually loved and cared for you. Protected you. It was too late to say that now though.
The sobs and tears wouldn't stop.
You didn't mean to kill Friend.
You didn't mean it.
You didn't mean it.
______________________________________________________________
Welp this went everywhere, was suppose to be smutty demon Friend returning but now its all angsty (;゚Д゚). Anyway Love ya Friend <3
ohmygod its angst I've been fed---
78 notes · View notes