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nicktremblaywayfu · 9 months

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Like A Wolf in The Ruins (18+)

Author Note : This is a filthy Big Grunt fic. Every time you encountered that brown haired big guy, please know that the person behind this blog loves him more than anything. Summary : Cold War was harsh to your life and the facility you hoped as a prosperous place was nothing but a man-made hell. Between the miseries, you found a pleasure in pain, although you won't admit it to yourself. Or to the man standing above you. Pairing : Big Grunt x AFAB! Reader Characters : Big Grunt, Reader (as Reagents), The Snitch Warning : Dubcon, mentions of parents death, blood, and violence. also cursing Words : 2,760

Available on Ao3 as well

=== MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY ===

Life couldn’t get worse in this man-made hell for the sake of science. And the fact that you are shorter than average people was the cherry on top. You'd rather be stabbed in the guts than laughed at by those damned ex-pops. Gooseberry rarely targeted you thanks to her delusion that you were a lonely child stuck in the middle of evil people. Although sometimes she snapped anyway and attacked you just like any other ex-pop. While Coyle simply mocked your height, spending more time making fun of you than chasing you. And if you think that was all, those big guys thought you were easy prey, particularly the one with brown hair.

It would be almost guaranteed you’d be the first to catch his attention, wanting to get you more than he desired your teammates. He would taunt you with his heavy, thunderous voice. Telling you how much he wanted you in his palm, which was almost as big as your head. Sometimes, your tiny body is a miracle. You could find a better hiding spot—a place that no other reagents could use. He was big and simple-minded, and he would think he could find an alternate way whenever he saw you hiding in the ceiling. But he would also curse his own giant body, which was taller than most doorframes because he couldn’t reach you.

You measured his height; he was roughly 8 feet. Whatever Murkoff did to him, sure, they successfully made a real-life giant. You were like half his height; your body was slightly bigger than his whole legs. And you took advantage of it, sneaking around while he was not looking.

—

It was another day of lonely trials. You didn’t make many friends, and Murkoff mistook it for bravery as you often went through trials and programs all by yourself. It was hard—no lies. But do you have any other choice? Once you leave this place, you’ll fly to another country. No matter the cost, no matter how you would do it, anywhere else other than this place

Electrocuting a snitch was a classic way to go, and although you preferred something more leisurely, the rewards were good enough. You had found all the keys you needed to open those gates, pushing the snitch before Coyle found you once again. You sighed heavily, injecting adrenaline, and pushed the screaming snitch, who was begging for his life. You have grown immune to this crying and begging. You need to prioritize your ego, as saving those poor people would only put you in trouble.

"Please... I know you're a good one. His muffled words sounded desperate, but not enough to change your mind.

"Killing me would only put you in this chair as the next candidate."

You didn’t say anything.

"Trust me. I'm the one who pushed the previous one. I killed him, and now look where I am!"

You just shook your head while your legs kept moving forward.

"Oh, you son of a bitch. Somebody help me!

"Would you please shut your fucking mouth? You’re putting us in the spotlight, and that was the last thing I needed. " You shouted, forgetting that you were, unfortunately, making yourself audible.

It was too late to reckon with what you had done, as you saw a shadow towering over your figure.

"Honey !"

"Fuck nope!" You dodged as he tried to grab you. You threw a brick on his head, but of course, it did nothing other than make him pissed.

"That hurts!"

"As it should be." You planted a blinding mine before you ran to the infirmary. You hid inside a locker, not having any time to find a more hidden spot.

"Where’s my little naughty scrawny babe?"

You covered your mouth in fright. You’ve encountered this man many times, yet he never fails to scare you anyway. He was irritating and terrifying with his size.

"Not..here…" He grumbled. I walked away, looking for another spot, acting like I had magically teleported to another room. He was stupid, or was he? What if he knew and planned to bait you somewhere with a less hiding spot? You shook your head, peeked through the locker room, and ran the opposite way from the infirmary.

You couldn’t care less about the snitch, at least until you found a bottle or a brick to distract him while waiting for your rig to fill up. God damn these trials, as the damned Murkoff made your rig charge twice the usual length. You found some things, but not the ones you were looking for. You sighed. The more you spend time in this place, the more ex-pops will be released to hunt you down. You looked around, but nobody was around. Strange. Where have all the ex-pops gone? It was eerily silent—too quiet.

Perhaps you celebrated too early, as you heard a door clicked open by a figure that you just met a while ago. Your eyes widened, and you ran like a deer.

"Little rabbit!" His voice was excited, and he ran like a wolf. He was fast—too fast for his size.

Just as you reached the infirmary’s door, he grabbed your head and pulled it roughly into the darkness in the opposite room.

"Shit, that hurts!" You scratched his hand but to no avail. He didn’t flinch; your nails felt like tickles for him.

"Sshh, I will not hurt you like the others. You will be fine with me here." Ironically, what he did was the opposite. He then put you on a table, pushing and crashing stuff on top of it.

"Let go of me, you freak! Fuck !" You tried to punch him, slap him, and do everything you could to fight him, yet what stood in front of you was the embodiment of a human weapon. His body was hard like there was no flesh or muscle, but instead, they put machines inside of him.

"What are you going to do to me? Just kill me already without all this unnecessary bullshit. I’ll just come back to finish this shit and fly away from this place !" You spit on him and kicked him in the chest with your knee. If only you could reach his groin.

"I want to love you." He sounded like he was half-pleading.

"You-wait, what?" " You were taken aback by his statement.

He put his face closer to you, making you press your back and head closer to the surface. You were used to the foul smell of this place and some ex-pops, but somehow his breath smelled like fresh blood. With the metallic, rancid smell of blood, you were certain he had just eaten a poor reagent hours ago or was probably an unfortunate fellow ex-pop.

"Let me love you."

"I don’t want to."

"You have to. You’re the only one who could love me here."

"You’re talking crazy, you son of a bitch. Let me go now.” You bit one of his hands that pinned you on the table. He growled in surprise but managed to press your forehead to the surface to restrain further movement.

"That hurts!" There was no blood drawn, but sure, you left a mark there.

"I can do worse; I’ll never give up. It’s up to you whether you want mercy or not, boy." You grinned, trying not to show any fear. The giant just furrowed his brows, not affected by your threats.

“You won’t hurt me. I know that.” He moved closer, you could feel the friction of the screws on his chest device. He moved his hands from your head, putting both of your hands above your head with ease. One giant palm was more than enough to restrain both of your hands, while the other started to explore your still-clothed body.

“Fuck off Let go of me-” You struggled under his grasp, with him trying to take off your ESOP.

“Let me help you.”

“You better not break that thing. They’ll put me in trouble if I do and you probably won’t see me again.” Right after that, he looked at you right in the eyes. You probably won’t see me again, and just like that, he went more gentle or took off your ESOP. He carefully took off the belts, pulling the ESOP out from your body. He then reached your night vision.

“You can’t pull it off. Believe me, I tried, it was drilled inside my skull.”

“Drilled into...bones? Like this ?” He pointed to his device that was put all over his body. You winced, what they did to you was nothing compared to him.

“Yes. Just like that.”

“But it makes me stronger.”

“I don’t want to be strong. I want to be free.”

“Don’t go, you should stay in my house.”

“In your dreams, gigantic freak.”

“Then..then I'll live up to my dreams.”

“What the fuck? Hold on !” Before you could say any words, he pressed his lips onto yours, trying to fit between your smaller lips. You could taste the fresh blood from his tongue that overlapped yours, you gagged at the metallic taste.

While you were troubled in breathing between the kiss, he proceeded to unbutton your white shirts. You were about to say something, embarrassed that your underwear beneath your shirt was revealed, but he kept pressing your mouth.

“Let me-”

His hand crept under your back finding the hook of your bra. After he unhooked it, he pulled it over your chest, leaving your nipples to be seen.

“Shit, I can’t allow this to happen.” Your face reddening, and so is your torso in humiliation.

“You don't have to hide it from me.” He whispered to your ear, although it was still loud for a whisper. He moved like an experienced man, once had a woman in his life before mayhaps.

His hand was way too big for your chest, but still found enjoyment in kneading your breast. You moaned quietly, not wanting to show submission under his touch. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you always desired sex after months of being imprisoned in this facility and treated like guinea pigs. But doing it with an ex-pops holding the title of “Big Grunt” was not the man you expected. Not even someone you were looking for.

Between your struggles, there was one thing you realized from his close-up face. A long scar across his right eye, something that he got from a fight. At the same time, his right eye was blinded, pale blue almost white like his sclera while his left green eye was heavily injured. His nose was big and pointy, while wrinkles decorated his face showing he had aged. You suspected he was in his 50s, which means you were about to fuck with someone as old as your parents. They had died from the war, but if they knew about this, they could die for the second time.

You snapped from your thoughts as he bit the spot between your neck and your shoulder. You screamed in pain, as he drew some blood and drank it a little bit. If you let him, he would probably cut off your head and make you a dinner tonight. He licked the blood left in the mark, then moved to the lower area. Much lower, reaching your pants.

“Not there, please. It was more than enough.” Your breath was shaking, legs trembling with the feeling of embarrassment. What should you say if the guards question your deeds with a big grunt?

He continued, slowly pulling your pants onto your ankles. He looked at your undies, and wet spot on the crotch. He grabbed the side of your underpants, dragging it down until there was nothing vulgar to hide anymore. You didn’t dare to look at him, shy and embarrassed that you showed your genitalia to a stranger who wanted to murder you these months.

He pulled his face closer, smelling your crotch. He knew this smell. It wasn't just a regular wet slick slime covering your vagina, it was the one that you had whenever you were ovulating. Mature eggs meant a more wet and sticky vagina, perfect for his hard waiting dick. He licked the hole, making you flinched and mewled. His pointy nose rubbed against your swollen red clits, while his tongue started to explore inside the canals.

“Oh god..” You spoke in a higher pitch, no longer able to hold your moan. Not enough with eating you up, he put a finger inside you. Then two, which make you shriek. His palms were like, twice the size of average people’s. You gritted your teeth and squirmed under his grasp as he thrust his two large fingers. You could feel your hole stretched to its limit.

You could only feel the painful pleasure as he rubbed against your walls, with his thumb massaging the clit. You were ashamed to admit this, but you wonder if out of other reagents that were willing to have sex with you, would they be this experienced?

Enough with the juice spilled and wetting the lips, he pulled his finger and started to give what he wanted in the first place. He let your hands go, knowing that you wouldn’t run in this condition.

You dared yourself to look at him again despite your face being as red as a boiled crab, only to be alarmed by the size of his girth. You almost laugh in desperation, because all of dicks you’ve seen from naked ex-pops, this was the biggest one. Like his dick adjusting to his height, standing proudly with precum leaking. Big Grunt positioned himself in front of the table, needed to hunch, and positioned his knees considering the extreme height gaps you both had. But the fact you were half of his size was his favorite. He loved imagining you carried like a sack of potatoes, practically portable-sized that he could bring everywhere.

It was the tip, but your heart beat so fast as you tried to take his shaft. This would be painful, stretching your hole more than his fingers did. Sadly, you were right. You screamed as he started to thrust his dick, holding onto the table with your toes curling.

This did not happen , you cried in your hearts. Your body shivered, feeling the friction of his cock inside your clamping canal. But he was not in a hurry, despite all this anguish. He savored the moment, enjoying every second his shaft was wrapped around inside of you. Although there were few centimeters left on the base, he huffed in pride looking at you and accepting a major part of his manhood.

You pushed your head upwards, back arching as he started to take his pace. His movement as he repeatedly thrusts you. His tip rubbed against that particular spot, as well as the entrance of your womb. The base acted like it scratched the itch on your clit, stimulating your whole pussy with no area left behind. He growled like a monster, a heavy harsh voice that still frightened you yet somehow managed to increase your desire for more of him. You reached his head, he hummed in confusion only for then groan as you pulled his hair backward.

“Should’ve told Murkoff you’re into this stuff you naughty boy.” The eagerness to please him and hurt him mixed into one. But things you knew, it did make him more horny than before, uncontrollably thrusting you in lust.

He wanted to say something, but his voice cracked between the pace. Out of nowhere, he choked your neck. So hard, that you were alarmed that you scratched his arms until he bled. There was no word exchanged other than struggling breath and heavy whimpers. He pressed your head, in need of something to hold on to. And right after that, he came. He spilled every last drop that some leaked through the tight space. While he let off your neck and dropped his head to collect his breaths, you rubbed your clits at a fast pace to finish yourself. Ain’t no way you were gonna let that man thrust you again, that could led to a second round. As you came, your mouth let out a squeak, which he noticed.

His hair was more messy than before, wet with sweat. He finally pulled out, picking up his pants again while you realized the things you had done. Realizing that the cameras were everywhere and that they were watching. That Easterman was watching, without a second being missed.

—

#outlast #outlast trials #the outlast trials #big grunt #big grunt outlast trials #big grunt x reader #red barrels #horror game #horror game fics #outlast fanfictions #x reader #self-insert #reader insert

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mystiffox · 25 days

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— for the protection of creation.

is ftfo still relevant around these parts?? (/lh) but hi yes if you havent heard of this fic, you're missing out. its got heavy hurt (it gets worse before it gets better) but if you love found family its sooo so worth it bc omg i Love the found family SO MUCH (also ft. some human healer!ink and ftfo!error designs bc slay)

also some (sorta spoiler-y doodles) !! theres a few more on my insta but im too lazy to get em all lmaoo

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babygirlgiles · 2 months

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Why does no one else see my vision for post-war Effie Trinket. Like that woman does NOT become a civil servant, she does not join the ranks of government service. She is 100% New Panem’s first influencer. She was already having her It Girl moment as the escort of District Twelve’s victors beforehand and now there’s public perception that she was this Hunger Games insider playing the long con to dismantle the system from within and paid this great sacrifice for it by being tortured by Snow’s cadre for her efforts. Which is not true at all because she had No Clue what was going on but Plutarch needs new programming to fill all the hours that used to be taken up by Hunger Games related media so he decides to capitalize on Effie having Her Moment. And with people being allowed to travel between districts for the first time in over a generation and newfound freedom of information, there would a nationwide fascination how other people live. Effie ends up with her own lifestyle/travel series where she visits different regions of Panem and even exotic far away places such as “England”. She’s posting beach selfies on Panemstigram to promote her upcoming episode on lobster fishing off District Thirteen’s revitalized coastline.

She even gets her own daytime talk show at one point. She tries (and fails) for years to get Peeta on the show as a guest. Katniss has never watched a single episode.

#Effie trinket #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #you know I went into my drafts for something totally unrelated about my backpacking trip and found this instead #listen I love the hayffie quiet life in 12 fics as much as everyone else but guys. guys.#Effie in an ENORMOUS parka going ice fishing in the upper peninsula #trying SO hard to remain professional and enthusiastic about the ‘quaint’ local customs #when she’s obviously freezing and doesn’t want to be there #Effie watching someone milk a cow with barely concealed horror #Effie in a corn field. Effie in a swamp.#American foodways are so vast and diverse irl and would be in Panem too #it’s like Anthony bourdain parts unknown but it’s with Effie trinket #the comedic potential is off the charts.#and also she could learn so much about the world and have her worldview broadened etc etc #but also influencer Effie. do you see it. do you.

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funkbun · 5 months

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i know theres technically already horror fic abt bugsnax but I've been kinda wishing someone could make creepypasta abt it. like guys my bugsnax copy is haunted it ate my burger or smth...

getting and Evil copy of bugsnax for my Evil ps5. i start up the game and everything seems normal until i find out that all the bugsnax have Hyper Realistic Eyes and all the grumpuses besides Filbo (who is covered in Hyper Realistic Blood) are missing. the game is Real and it made everything in my pantry Evil. something something Filbo the killer

is this anything, smile

#also i feel like ''Bugsnax Horror Fic'' could apply to Many different fics within the fandom. and im not even that active in the fic space #the game is very easy to Horror-ify lol #bug game #askums 2

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aviscarrentals · 2 months

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Yelp • Chapter 1 ls2

masterlist previous chapter next chapter

words: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, implied off"screen" deaths, injury/blood, implied character death

notes: this first chapter is mostly just exposition (and a little sad i know), but at the very end you get a sneak peak of the action before everything turns totally cray. (there will be more defined logan x parker in the future chapters as well.) parker is supposed to be the "reader" character. i decided to use a gender-neutral name instead of y/n because that's not my thing. she/her pronouns and feminine descriptions are used, but her gender is not a major plot point at all, so you can totally still read this imagining parker however you want. i hope you enjoy!

“God, it’s so weird just going right back to school like nothing’s even happened,” Parker started.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Five fucking kids are dead, but science! Calculus! English!” he finished mockingly.

“Well, four,” Oscar corrected him, Lily nodding along.

Logan let out a large exhale and nodded. “Crazy he survived that shit considering how fucked up the rest of them were.”

“Well, you know what they say about quiet kids,” Arthur chimed in. The other five immediately turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Fred questioned incredulously.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “They’re like actually really cool and badass and stuff.”

“Huh?” Logan inquired with a furrowed brow. “I thought the thing was that they’re like… kinky and shit.”

“Mate, what the fuck?” Arthur responded defensively. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, that’s like the thing people say,” Logan bickered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur retorted, making them all burst out into laughter for a brief moment before they all returned to a somber silence when they remembered the conversation that led them here in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class?” Logan pressed, his pleading tone making it obvious that he was asking for his own sake instead of his girlfriend’s.

“No,” Parker laughed him off, pushing his chin off of her shoulder and his arms from around her waist. “The health room is all the way on the other side of the building. You’ll be late. Again.”

“Yeah, well-” Logan began to protest before his newest complaint was interrupted by a loud crack behind him that made the both of them jump. They turned around to see Zhou Guanyu staring back at them guiltily.

“Sorry,” he started to apologize “I just dropped-”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Logan interrupted, as Parker reached down to pick up the textbook that fell from his locker.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile when she handed it back to him.

“No problem,” she reassured him, returning the expression. “It’s the least I can do, especially considering…” She trailed off, instead gesturing to his left arm which was fully encased in a sling.

After a moment of awkward silence, the girl spoke up again. “Um, what class do you have next? I can help you carry your things,” she offered.

“Bio,” he answered, “but it’s alright,” the boy quickly added. “It’s not far, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way-”

“No, that’s perfect,” she interrupted. “I’ve got psych first period, so I’m headed to the science wing too,” she explained, lifting the heavy load from his hands, right as the morning bell rang.

“Alright,” Logan said, leaning over his girlfriend’s shoulder to give her an instinctual kiss on the cheek. “I better get going. If I’m late to Mrs. K’s class one more time I think she might beat me to death with one of the CPR dummies.”

Parker immediately bore her eyes into her boyfriend’s soul at his word choice, the poor boy not remembering his audience until the words had already left his mouth. Looking like a deer in headlights, he simply turned around and scurried off.

“Sorry,” Parker apologized once she turned back to Zhou, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

“Shit, we better get going or we’ll be late too.”

“You guys know Zhou, right?” Parker asked the group in front of her as she led the incapacitated boy to her customary lunch spot under the oak trees in the school courtyard. The two were met with a chorus of “yeah”s and welcomes.

“I hope it’s okay that I sit with you guys today,” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, great to have you, man,” Liam assured him as Lily reached across the table to relieve Parker of the extra lunch tray.

“Didn’t we have trig together last year, mate?” Dennis piped up to ask him.

“Um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I would recognize you in class,” the bashful boy responded, leading to a roaring bout of laughter from the crowd.

“Goddamn! He got your ass, Hauger,” Jack said through a fit of childish giggles.

As the conversation continued, Parker couldn’t help but notice that one of the usual members of their crew was missing. “Hey, babe,” she said as she nudged her boyfriend’s rib to get his attention.

“What?”

“Where’s Paul?” she asked, concerned. “He said he was coming to school when I checked in on him yesterday,” the girl recalled.

“Yo, Bearman,” Logan called quietly to the younger boy sitting across from them.

“What’s up?” Ollie questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen Paul at all today? Did he change his mind about coming in?”

“No, he’s here,” Ollie informed the couple. “I think he probably just wants some time to himself right now. Usually…” he trailed off.

Parker and Logan nodded in understanding. Usually Paul wasn’t the only Aron present at the lunch table.

“How are you holding up?” Parker inquired, giving the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Paul had lost a brother, but Ollie had lost the next best thing. His best friend. “I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he replied a little too quickly, flitting his eyes away from the couple before abruptly turning to rejoin the ongoing conversation to his right.

Logan and Parker shared a sad glance, but decided it was better to leave the boy be. Paul probably wasn’t the only one who needed space.

“So,” Arthur’s voice rang out, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got Wednesday off, what say you all we hang at my place tomorrow night.”

“OMG! Sleepover!” Jack shrieked in a high pitched voice, eliciting a few snorts from the kids surrounding him.

“Shut up, Doofus,” Arthur shouted at him playfully.

“That’s not my name, Lecdumbass,” the other boy snapped back, overdramatically rolling his eyes in jest.

“Anyways…” Arthur hollered over his friends’ audible amusement, attempting to gather their attention again. “Is everybody in? You too, Guanyu,” he clarified, to which the meek boy simply nodded, much to the others’ delight. “Awesome!”

As everyone else agreed to the plan, Jack interrupted once again. “Can’t. My parents have been totally freaking out over all this shit. You know how they are. So, unfortunately, the only party I will be attending is Doohan family game night hosted at 15 Fairview Road. Sorry, gang.”

“Well, hope you have fun playing Scrabble with Mummy tonight,” Liam teased.

“Yeah,” Dennis joined in sarcastically, “maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you have a scoop of chocolate ice cream too. With sprinkles!”

“Alright, fuck you all, I’m out of here,” Jack countered, beginning to gather his things in perfect unison with the end-of-lunch bell.

“Bye-bye, Doofenshmirtz!” Parker called to the boy’s back.

“See ya when Mama Doohan lets you out of your cage again,” her boyfriend added with a big grin, made even wider when Jack simply flipped them off as he continued walking away.

Dennis had worked his ass off all summer. He wanted that spot on the team and he wanted it bad. So, in the month leading up to tryouts, he had to keep up his training. And if Coach saw how dedicated he was maybe that would benefit him too.

After another grueling workout under the hot September sun, Dennis made his way back to the empty locker room. He could smell, see, feel, and taste the sweat on his body, making him strip off his soaked through shirt before the door had even fully closed behind him. He needed a shower ASAP.

All of a sudden, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his back hit the ground, letting out a strident wheeze. He laid there for a moment, groaning in pain and sweating even harder than before. Wait, no. That wasn’t sweat…

The boy wearily lifted his head off the ground, still recovering from the harsh impact of his fall, only to see the entire floor of the room flooded.

“What the fuck?” he sighed out with the little breath he was able to collect.

He slowly lifted himself back to his feet, ignoring his spinning head, until he looked down at where he had been only to be greeted by a river of pink floating in the shallow water. He reached his fingers to softly touch the back of his throbbing head and was immediately met with an intense pain and sticky, red blood covering his hand.

The boy sluggishly stumbled forward toward the sinks in order to better assess the situation and clean his open wound. The only sounds he could make out were his laboured breaths and the splashes of his feet meeting the puddles beneath him. Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. Splish. He paused for a moment as the world spun around him.

Splash.

But the sound of that extra step behind him didn’t register in time for him to save himself.

taglist (if you would like to be added or removed just lmk!): @gaypoetsblog @koris-009 @feralnando @disneyprincemuke @osbuzz @avaayalaa @faithshouseofchaos @thearchieves @scuderia-piastri @lovelytsunoda @localwhoore @foreveralbon @vroomvroomcircuit @mclarengf @lipringlrh

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thejacketscloset · 4 months

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Okay im feeding myself ideas.

Horroresque Ghoap fic set on a MASSIVE sea vessel with like really off putting silent hill vibes.

They're sent out by boat to gather Intel/figure out what's going on with a sea vessel that was supposed to be transferring classified valuables but just seemed to vanish, crew and all. They're sent to search around the last known location and lo and behold. It's right there. The massive cargo ship is just anchored there in the middle of the sea. What's even more eerie is when they board the boat there's so sign of life. 0 indication that any of the crew had ever even been on the boat. When Soap and Ghost make their way back to their transfer boat it's vanished, along with the small team that had been with them. Their comms aren't working, and they have no feasible way to contact anyone else or leave the boat.

Oh one more thing. Massive thunderstorm.

ITS IN MY HEAD ITS IN MY HEAD

#idk where this plot would even end up leading me but i just #i cant stop thinking abkht it #probably because im listening to the little nightmares soundtrack #which is PEAK btw.#horror game entirely set on a boat?? INCREDIBLE #ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod #mw2 #fic #fic idea

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dykedvonte · 1 month

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Benny Gecko would have the WORST big brother influence on Butch Deloria. It’d be like Rodrick and Greg Heffly.

#like butch isn’t innocent but that man would do horrors to his morals and ability to talk to anyone normally #I’ve been quiet because I’m playing so much fallout 3 as I’m playing the games backwards #the fic ideas THE VOICES #one more week #fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout 3 #benny gecko #benny fnv #butch fallout 3 #butch deloria

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the-six-that-thrive-if · 1 year

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THE SIX THAT THRIVE IS A 18+ INTERACTIVE FICTION! THIS DEALS WITH DISTURBING THEMES OF HORROR, MURDER, GORE, VIOLENCE, EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, ABUSE, DISCRIMINATION, AND DARK ROMANCE! PLEASE BE AWARE WHEN INTERACTING WITH THIS STORY

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

♡ | DELVE DEEPER |

♡ | DEMO | ~ LAST UPDATED: AUGUST 2ND 2023

♡ | PATREON | DISCORD | ASK BOX |

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

AMERICA | NORTHEAST | DISTRICT 6 | DATE UNKOWN

ILLECEBRA

/ilˈle.ke.bra/

/noun/

1. the state of enticement and or lure.

· · ───── · ☼ · ───── · ·

“Anyone with the illecebra Illness is destined to die at the age of 22. There is no cure.”

You were destined to die in 22 years. Since the moment of your birth, you have known your downfall. The age in which you die. You aren’t sure why your parents told you, why they wanted you to know on your tenth birthday, but they did. Holding back tears as if they were the ones to suffer, as if they knew the exact moments they’d die. You like to pretend they prepared you, made you live your life without fear, but—

You’re 22 this year. With no cure in sight, and no way to prevent what is bound to happen to you. You’ll die and you’ll die soon. Unless you can make a deal.

Nearly two thousand years ago, creatures assumed only myth broke free from the ground and ripped away the sky. Fighting amongst themselves and fighting and killing humans. Unable to fight against these creatures, the creation of districts came into being, representing states, nations, and countries, bound to crawl amongst the floor and a dome of safety for the humans living.

Your story begins within the District of Six, one of the first domes built, and the location of the Eclipse Facility, which is in charge of studying Subjects who are monsters from the outside.

☼ Bring Death to a vicious cycle and allow destiny to take a course or Save a vicious world, which seems to be beyond saving. It is up to you.

☼ Customizable MC

[Name, Personality, Gender, Pronouns, Appearance(tattoos n scars), Traits, Allergies, Diet, Piercings, Aesthetics, & More]

☼ Ability to have certain traits, likes, and disabilities

[Favorite Foods, Smoking/Drinking Habits, & More]

[Personality, Mental Illness, Hearing Aids, Prosthetic Arms or Legs and choosing how you lost + MORE]

☼ Options that have and effect on romantic and platonic relationships.

☼ Choose between seven romanceable Love Interests or None at All.

☼ Stats that will affect the story.

☼ The ability to fight, run, hide, and survive.

[Harem Route & Poly Routes Optional]

☽☼☾ [THE DEMON] SUBJECT F-24:

THE FIRE WHICH BREATHS — {AMAB - MAN}

A sadistic and sarcastic demon that is often quiet and looms around you like a shadow, he's oddly cold to others and can be described as being dosed with water. He's smart, far smarter than the others, and only cares for your input. He's murderous and has no qualms about killing others for you. No matter how good they seem. He's lazy but has an extremely good sense of smell and exceptional hearing.

“What the others think, matter not. I’m here for you and you alone.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] He says long, shaggy black hair that reaches his waist and messy side hair pieces that messily shape his face. He has striking almond-shaped gold eyes that seem to glow. He has an athletic build and warm tan skin that's littered with scars, such as cuts, bites, gashes, healed bullet holes, and claw marks. He has a facial scar that runs vertically along his lip's left side.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DEMON BLOODHOUND]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE ANGEL] SUBJECT L-18:

THE WESTERN WINDS WHICH BLOWS — {AFAB - WOMAN}

A calm and energetic person who switches often. Sometimes being extremely energetic and loud, while others, she's calming, and sometimes you forget she's even there. She's kind and loves humans and mortals. She finds their short lifespans adorable and thinks humans are adorable since she's lived many lifetimes. She is quite the birdbrain and often jumps from topic to topic.

“Aw, humans are the cutest~ I just love, love, love ‘em!”

༺ Appearance:

6’0FT[182.88CM] She's a tall woman with the orangish-yellow talons and legs of a harpy eagle, with two large white wings that fade into a pastel yellow. She has the tail of a bird, which is a pastel yellow that fades into a pastel blue. Her skin is white, almost yellow, and she's covered in an assortment of blue freckles, varying in color.

[3000 YRS OLD, SPECIES: HARPY]

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☽☼☾ [THE DRAGON] SUBJECT R-12:

THE WATER IN WHICH BITES — {??? - GENDERFLUID}

A quiet and soft-spoken woman who spends most of his time reading. She's very straightforward, blunt, and struggles to pick up on social cues. He likes the dark and spends time in the dark corners, only speaking up when necessary. She's obedient and kind but dislikes humans.

“… No. It is simply easier for my skin to remain in the dark.”

༺ Appearance:

5’11FT(180.34CM) She's a tall and slender woman with dark brown skin that looks almost black and black eyes. She has raven black hair that reaches her feet, with two long dark blue horns. Her back is lined with dark blue spikes. Her wrist, upper thighs, upper arms, and ankles have white armbands. She also has a thick lizard-like tail with spikes that run along the middle. While her forehead has an intricate design, similar to a circlet.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DRAGON(UNCOMFIRMED)]

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☽☼☾ [THE ARMADILLO] SUBJECT X-6:

THE EARTH IN WHICH LIVES — {AMAB - GENDERFLUID}

A hardheaded and stubborn individual who is strong-willed but hates change. They often spend time sleeping, curled up into a ball like a rolly-polly. They hate humans and don't shy away from letting you know; they're sometimes outspoken and aggressive.

“Get away, please! The last thing I need is human cooties!”

༺ Appearance:

6’10FT(208.28CM) He has deep brown skin and glowing emerald green eyes, with pale brown armor plates along his back, starting at the base of his neck, with a long flat tail that drags behind him. He has short curly dark brown hair, and his face is dusted in white and pale brown freckles.

[1046 YRS OLD, SPECIES: UNKNOWN (WITHIN ARMADILLO FAMILY)]

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☽☼☾ THE WARDEN:

THE VOID WHICH BECKONS — {AMAB - MAN}

A towering, intimidating man that rarely speaks but is quite sadistic. He cares for order more than justice and is okay with playing the role of the bad guy. He prefers it. He's seen as emotionless and uncaring but constantly aware of his surroundings. He demands attention and unwavering loyalty.

“You must simply follow the rules. Or die. There is no other option.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] Simple black slacks, thick black winter trench with silver buckles and chains, and a black helmet similar to a 12th Century English Knight.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: SPECKULATED SHADOW BEING OR CHAOS DEMON]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

TWO HIDDEN LOVE INTERESTS - THE KING & ????

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ HAREM [MAIN] ROUTE:

F-24, L-18, R-12, X-6, WARDEN, & MC

☽☼☾ POLY ROUTES:

Poly Route One: F-24, WARDEN, & MC

Poly Route Two: L-18, R-12, & MC

Poly Route Three: L-18, R-12, X-6, & MC

Poly Route Four: R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Five: X-6, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Six: F-24, R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Seven: F-24, R-12, & MC

[You’ll learn their names in book]

#interactive fiction #interactive fiction demos #interactive fic #twine interactive fiction #interactive fiction twine #itchio interactive fic #twine games #itchio games #dating sim #horror interactive fic #t.manor.basement #the six that thrive

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faeriekit · 10 months

Text

Health and Hybrids (VI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here and this is part six💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Danny and Bart are bros now. The Speedsters chat about the horribly injured entity their kid has decided is like a...pet? Theydk?

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny wakes up to an unbridled wave of nostopdon’t.

…He rouses. His lungs flutter.

Danny flinches.

There’s something— it’s large and it’s green in a way that humans are not and it’s taller and wider than Danny’s human and the space it makes in Danny’s senses—

The red human Danny is too attached to now buzzes to his bedside, spilling worrywor/rynerv/ous all over Danny’s section of this abandoned hospital. His muscles tighten up to compensate; and when the green not-human adult gets closer, Danny pushes himself forward on his elbows— closer to his vibrating human, closer to a defensive formation.

The green thing moves and Danny can’t see the gesture. He bristles.

And then

Danny’s skull spl

its

down the middle.

Everything hurts and everything is on fire.

Danny screams.

And he screams.

And—

Danny isn’t moving— everything else moves when Danny screams but he isn’t moving— the fast human has gotten even faster and they’re zooming through the building, through rooms and past adult humans that Danny has never seen, and all Danny can do is sink his claws into the human and hope that it stays. That Danny stays. In its arms, and not next to— that.

The fast-buzzing human finds a dark room.

It shoves Danny and itself inside. Good.

They hide.

Even better.

Someone comes to the door, and Danny can feel the frigid heat of a blast forming in his fingers. But it’s only two of the humans Danny has already met. And another young human.

This one has light hair, he thinks. It shines in the light spreading out from the cracked doorway.

They talk and they don’t crowd his space but to be honest Danny would rather they did. There’s something horrible out there, and he knows these humans aren’t that bad and whatever green thing out there certainly is. They should all be safe in this nice dark room.

He makes a grabby hand. Come here. Get closer.

…One of them does. Great! Danny gently bats at it with his knuckles until it joins them underneath the table. Danny puts the buzzing human in front of him and his new human behind him, so that he’s in the middle. There’s layers now. They can’t all get wiped out at once.

Danny makes grabby hands at the other. It makes a huffy sort of vibration. Probably a laugh. Stupid. Doesn’t it notice that they’re in danger??

Danny whips a very sharp comehererightnowbetween them— not lashing, but not gentle. They are in danger. Come here.

Thankfully, the last two obey—Danny’s pretty sure he’s being humored, but that doesn’t matter. Not as long as they’re all under the table. And safe.

The buzzing human’s anxious vibrations slowly move out into a slower, calmer boredom, and that’s fine, because boredom means that it doesn’t think they’re in danger. No one has found them yet and the humans are twitchy and nervous.

One of the darker-dressed humans says something. Danny can’t tell what it says, exactly, but he can turn his head to listen. The words flow around him like water. Someone else murmurs something else.

A human hand bats at Danny’s. Danny flinches. It—is it fighting?? Are they fighting??

They don’t start…hitting. But they keep batting at Danny’s hands, very carefully avoiding his claws, and—oh. They want to play. And they probably want to play quietly, so they’re being smart about not getting caught. Ugh. If Danny had his toys, they wouldn’t be so bored. This is almost worse than boredom.

…Fine. Danny’s claws don’t exactly retract like an animal’s, but they’re not so essential to his being that they’re formed and present all the time. The sharp shapes of his claws shift in the darkness, until they’re only blunt nails: suitable for playing.

All the humans make very excited noises under their breath. It’s all very interesting or something. It can’t be that special. Danny sees other ghosts reshape little bits of themselves all the time.

The quiet human in red gently lifts up Danny’s hands with its own. It gently tosses Danny’s hands in the air, so that they clap together very quietly once they fall down onto its own. Danny lets it happen. They’re this close to him anyway. They’re probably not a threat.

(The real threat is outside, anyway.)

Then his hands get flipped over. The human gently bats its hands against Danny’s, extremely careful not to anger him enough to claw. They do this a couple times before Danny figures the game out.

Oh. It’s a hand game—Danny even knows this one. It’s Ms. Mary Mack. The quiet one whispers the right tune under its breath.

Once Danny knows it, it’s easy to gently follow the motions. He surprises them when he knows the motions as well as they do; his wrists hurt when he goes too fast, or when the human kids do—when they push too hard, Danny makes himself intangible, to their delight—but he can be gentle, and eventually everyone else is gentle, and they carefully plot out Mrs. Mary Mack and a veeeery slow version of Concentration.

It’s all very fun, right up until the Large Green Not-Human pushes itself through the floor.

Danny pulls his hands back, unsheathes his claws, and shrieks.

Everyone yells and everyone gets closer—it’s a defensive formation and that’s good but it’s not enough if he needs space to help defend them—and everything is loud and upsetting and Danny’s already hurt but he can fight and he will—

—Apology, Apology— something whispers, infinitely quieter than the attack Danny had suffered.

He bolts upright. What? Oh, oh no. It wants to talk to him. Danny does not want to talk back. NonononoGoAWAY.

The giant green thing backs off. Danny gets a distinct sensation of —Questions, Answers— sent to him. The feeling is accompanied by a procession of Danny’s own memories: the stars from the base, the container he’d woken up in, his bed nest and all the waste in it.

Danny winces further back under the table. Just because he likes his cot and feels safe in it doesn't mean it isn't gross. It is gross. But everything is going to be gross until all of his insides are actually inside of him again, and not squished up in his more liquid form.

The quickfasthuman darts in front of Danny, as if it is going to be any defense against whatever this creature is, and starts yelling in its little human voice. Danny keens.

—Care, Concern— flows towards him. With it comes Danny’s memories of the buzzing human bandaging him, a flesh-tone bandage stretching across the hole where more of his nose ought to be.

…Danny stills. It’s. That’s.

It’s a very gentle emotion. Maybe the thing is…lying…? But if it was, Danny would be able to feel it. Right?

There are more thoughts and feelings that come by, first very quietly and softly, and then a little too fast to track as the being get ahead of itself. When Danny pulls away, it slows down, and the flow becomes manageable again.

The Earth. Green and peaceful.

Space. —Home. Home—

This base that Danny is on. On it are faces that the green being can see, that Danny can’t— but in its memory it shares, all of them are welcoming and friendly with…their coworker. This being.

(Is this an alien?!)

(The being pauses in its recollection. It feels distinctly —Amused, Amused—. And then Danny gets space memories!! Of Mars!!!)

He carefully eases his claws out of the carpet. Okay. This is pretty cool. Danny’s getting the hang of this.

He (thinks? Successfully?) bounces back a memory of his first room, his first shuttle model of the Atlantis, the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling.

The alien (Alien!!!) treats him to a memory of his own offsprings’ resting places in his home. On Mars.

Danny doesn’t even argue when his buzzing human tries to pick him up. They can break formation. It’s fine. Danny purrs and purrs with his core. For the first time in months and months, someone can speak to him properly. Someone wants to speak to him.

What Danny thinks matters.

The stranger invites Danny into a mutual conversation, and Danny accepts.

Danny sinks himself into a memory of the earth, as seen from the upper atmosphere. The stars were all-encompassing there. He misses flying.

The Martian sends him a memory of a crashed…

…Oh. Danny squeezes further under the table. That’s the Specter Speeder. From the stranger's eyes, his crash into the dirt looks so bad. That’s…that crash hurt him. He’s still hurt. Still so bad.

Even the alien’s —Concern, Fear, Worry— isn’t a comfort.

The Martian replays the memory of the bandaids again. And then a new memory: the laboratory where Danny woke up.

The room was full of nervous humans in scrubs and lab coats, all of whom were nervous, nervous, fussing over problems like safe food and adequate oxygen and sanitary environment and please, please be okay. Danny’s empathy is limited to other empathetic beings, but the humans' thoughts and worried faces are bare and transparently clear to the alien.

…Oh.

Danny thinks of the young humans crowded around him, trying to keep him comfortable and safe, even when the alien knows that the humans know that he isn’t a threat. But that they worry for Danny anyway, because he’s scared and unhappy and in pain.

Oh, Danny thinks. …Oh.

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chernabogs · 6 months

Text

Fractal

Inc: Malleus, Prefect. WC: 2k Warnings: Dream horror, consumption of rotten fruit, everything seems happy but there's an underlying layer of 'somethings rotten in denmark (briar valley)' Excerpt: “Nothing.” You reply steadily. “I just haven’t been here before.” Liar. Malleus remains still for a moment before he laughs, and you hate how warm the sound is as the sun comes out once more. “Well of course you have not been here. That is why I chose this place—I wanted to show my friends my home.”

It’s you who causes the cataclysm this time.

He’s in a field that’s warm, and for once the sun—which beats down on him from a baby blue sky—does not give him a migraine, nor does it make his skin itch with the ghostly sensation of hives. He’s sitting at the end of a long dining table with a white tablecloth concealing its mahogany structure. It’s adorned with an array of foods; fruits, vegetables, meats—a cornucopia of delights to dig one's fingers into. It’s what he anticipates happening upon the arrival of his guests, who will fill the twenty-two empty wooden chairs that are present.

His gaze remains focused on the far end of the field, where a gap in the trees that create a barrier around where he sits is present. He remains still, motionless, as though he’s a wind up doll waiting for someone to turn his key. The sounds of cicadas screaming from the distant pines and the warm wind that brushes across his pale skin do little to stir him out of this strange state. He hardly even blinks. He merely sits and waits.

Until you appear at that gap.

Then, like that key turning, everything comes to life. He takes a breath in and sits up, a smile curling on his thin lips as his hands come to rest on that pristine, white tablecloth. He remains still as he watches you approach. Your steps are shaky, and you seem tired as you take your time to reach where he sits, as though every step is a labour for you to complete. When you finally reach the other end of the table, you draw to a stop, your gaze transfixed on the feast before you. Perhaps you are looking at the meat, or perhaps you are looking at the flies that are beginning to garnish its surface.

“You got my invitation.” Malleus’ voice is warm, as though he’s attempting to project a certain image of himself to you. You glance towards where he sits. He looks composed, regal, in the plain wooden chair with the sun creating a halo behind his head. He gazes back at you, and it feels like those green eyes are slowly peeling away each layer of flesh, parting each tendon and muscle, until he can see the white of your bone beneath. You swallow.

“I did.” Your voice is quiet as you resist the urge to look back at the gap in the trees. Three more pairs of eyes watch you from within the shadows as you try to walk your way through these steps. You’ve done this before. Many times before. “It was kind of you to invite me.”

His smile remains as he doesn’t reply for a moment before gesturing to the seat—the one next to him. “Sit, Prefect. You look tired.”

You move slowly around the table until you reach the seat to which he is gesturing. When you pull it out, it rips up the earth beneath it, causing the scent of dirt to mix with that of decay. He pushes a glass filled with a clear liquid towards you and you dutifully take it, although you refrain from raising it to your lips. He drinks unashamedly and without care.

“Am I early?” You ask, selecting each piece of dialogue in your mind with caution. You watch as he finishes drinking, setting the empty glass down as he does. His lips are stained slightly red from the action and his tongue darts out to clean them, slowly running along the bottom one as his gaze goes back your way.

“Yes, but that is of little concern. I have no objections to being in your company a moment longer,” he muses, sharp white teeth flashing as he observes you with amusement. “The others should be arriving soon.”

Malleus looks back to the gap in the trees as you study his profile. The skin beneath his eyes looks slightly bruised up and along his cheekbones—the area where his overblot patterning is. His hair is brushed back from his forehead, revealing the scales beneath, and his expression is fixed into one of childish excitement. He wears white, but the edges of his sleeves are stained. “They all received an invitation. I made sure of it. I am not apt to forget my friends, unlike some.”

“Perhaps they got lost.” You murmur, looking at that gap in the trees yourself as you do. You can see movement within the shadows as you continue to buy your time. The scent of decay grows until you’re eventually forced to look back to the feast. Wrinkled fruit, greenish meat, drooping herbs, and liquidated vegetables; the sight makes your stomach curl as you keep speaking. “After all, this place is unusual.”

“Unusual?” Malleus’ head turns to look back at you, his eyes still too wide, his expression too exuberant. “What is so unusual about it, Prefect?”

You feel your breath catch in your chest as you stare back. The movements by the gap have stopped as well, as though the entire scene has been paused with your single comment. You can hear the rustle of that warm wind through the corn field behind you, and the sun is soon covered by a passing cloud. You clench your hands in your lap.

“Nothing.” You reply steadily. “I just haven’t been here before.”

Liar.

Malleus remains still for a moment before he laughs, and you hate how warm the sound is as the sun comes out once more. “Well of course you have not been here. That is why I chose this place—I wanted to show my friends my home.”

The tension dissipates at that moment as Malleus picks up a few figs from the table. He sets them on his plate and presses a fork into one. You try to ignore how squishy it is, or the green that oozes from its inside. “Wouldn’t it have been better if we had dinner at your palace?”

He doesn’t reply as he spears one piece of rotten fig with his fork, turning it over slowly before holding it out to you. His smile still doesn’t dissipate. “No. I do not think it would have been. I want my friends to feel connected to one another. I want them to feel like a family.”

You glance at the fig piece. It sags on the metal prongs, making your stomach twist in disgust. There’s expectation in Malleus’ eyes that conceal a glint of something else—a test. So far you have been selecting the right reactions, but it isn’t sufficient.

You lean forward, keeping your gaze locked on his as you take the fig piece in your mouth. You’re trying hard not to gag as you chew slowly before forcing it down your throat. There’s a lingering after-taste of rot present and you finally grab at the water glass.

He chuckles and leans back before picking up another piece for himself. “I admit, it’s a bit sour, but tolerable all the same.”

Sour? It’s rotten, but you refrain from saying this aloud as you drink. You said it aloud before, and the results went as poor as they could go. There’s only so many times you and the others can formulate a plan before it becomes apparent that it’s all for naught. Eventually you set your glass down with a grimace and watch as it immediately refills itself. It’s magic, obviously—Malleus has been throwing his magic around unashamedly and without care. The soil nurtures him, the sun gives him life, the winds carry his words. He is both the creation and the creator of the feast you sit at. The executioner, and perhaps the sacrifice as well.

Or maybe that role is solely for you. After all, you are the one he is feeding right now.

You tilt your wrist slightly to catch a glance at the watch you wear around it. Phones and technology are pointless here—not that you have your phone anyway—so Lilia gave you this as a manual means. The hands are not moving, and instead remain fixed at five to five. You are still in a dream.

“Are you impatient?” His voice causes you to drop your wrist quickly and look his way. It’s hard to mask the surprise on your face. In fact, it’s quite pointless. That razor sharp gaze that peeled away your skin when you first approached now cuts incisions into your skull as he tilts his head, studying you. “They have five minutes.”

Five minutes will never come. You’re not sure if Malleus even knows this. It’s as though he’s settled himself so deeply into this dream he’s created—a tick, gorging itself on the magic of its own making, unaware of how its body swells and strains until the point that it bursts from over-consumption. He’s becoming inflated with his power. It’s how his overblot has not ended, despite the way he hides it with glamour.

“Are you sure you invited them?” You ask cautiously again, testing the waters. You see a twitch in his smile—the corner of his thin lip wavering slightly. His eyes remain wide.

“Yes. I wrote the invites myself. Everyone got one—Lilia, Silver, Sebek, you. Those of Heartslabyul, of Savanaclaw, of Octavinelle, of all the rest. I considered those from RSA, but I would rather keep the peace for this event.” His hold tightens around the fork. You can see the threads fraying. You push.

“Are you sure the invites were received? Did anyone tell you they would come?” You murmur, leaning a bit closer. You hate doing this—this is someone you consider your friend, perhaps more in another life, and you are not an orchestrator of someone's mental fracture. The cicada’s stop screaming. Another cloud passes over the sun.

“You never RSVP.” He replies, his voice now more monotone and colder. His smile remains but his eyes have slid back to the emptiness you’ve been seeing since his overblot began. He looks to you once more, and you scramble to see some remnant of the peculiar prince you’ve come to know in those eyes. “And yet you came.”

“I’ll always come,” you reply quietly, the scent of rot growing stronger with each word. You see movement in your peripheral vision again. The sky darkens further, and the wind begins to grow cold. “Whether you mean it or not, I’ll always come. But I cannot say the same for everyone else. Sometimes people don’t arrive, or they leave without goodbyes. Sometimes—”

His expression twists. It’s like a child hearing something they don’t want to hear, or when they’re denied a toy they want so badly to be theirs. His body stiffens and his upper lip curls. “Stop it, Prefect.”

His voice is low, dangerous. You’re pushing it again, just like all the other times so far. You see another figure approaching the table. Someone with silver hair, someone who looks as though they’ve aged many years in mere moments. They hold a weapon at their side. Your own hand darts out and grabs Malleus’ arm. Despite the demeanour, despite the rage, his arm is solid and warm beneath your grip.

“Malleus,” you begin, desperation starting to lace in your voice. You see a flash of green and hear the clattering of something hitting the table, and then he jerks his arm away. You feel the crushing sense of overwhelming power before with a snap of his fingers he’s in a field that’s warm, and for once the sun—which beats down on him from a baby blue sky—does not give him a migraine, nor does it make his skin itch with the ghostly sensation of hives. He’s sitting at the end of a long dining table with a white tablecloth concealing its mahogany structure. It’s adorned with an array of foods; fruits, vegetables, meats; a cornucopia of delights to dig one's fingers into.

It’s what he anticipates happening upon the arrival of his guests, who will fill the twenty-two empty wooden chairs that are present.

#malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst #did u know i avidly write dream horror in an interactive game i make?#twst x reader #anyway someone drag me from this malleus fic hell plz :/

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libr-0-cubicularist · 4 months

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A thing I made based on the wonderful fic Corruption Loves Company by @hey-adora (clicheusername5678 on Ao3) ft. Biblically Accurate Vio

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paperstarwriters · 2 months

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What do you do if you find your lover sleeping with a better version of you?

Maybe not even sexually, but they wrap their arm around your midsection, they cuddle their face into your neck, and from afar it looks as if they're hugging you.

but that can't be you, because you're standing here. In the doorway, staring at the stranger who wears your skin. And when they turn their head, you know full well that it is not you.

They're beautiful. Too beautiful. Too ethereally beautiful their face is just like yours but so much prettier somehow, it's softer where it should be soft, sharper where it should be sharp. The structure is the same, but fine details are changed. Not every blemish is removed form your skin, but enough are that you can tell, and those that remain hardly even look like blemishes.

Your skin looks smooth, free of the texture that it's notorious for having, your hair looks tousled and yet is somehow free of knots.

and when that creature opens it's eyes, you find yourself looking at your own, glossier, shinier and prettier than you've ever seen them before.

It's like every single word, every single compliment your partner ever gave you turned true.

And though you see the creature shift, though you see the bones snap and swivel and turn, you see the flesh shrink, stretch, melt, they eyes roll loops in it's skull, you still find yourself reaching out to touch the finished figure.

They look exactly like your love.

To you at least perhaps... did you truly look so pretty to your love? Did you—

did you check if they were alive?

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demonic0angel · 6 months

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Spoilers for Ghost Game (click for clarity)

Minus the finale, these are all of the arcs I've decided on for the story.

Thank you to everyone who commented and enjoyed my story! The 2nd chapter is coming in 2 days!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #jazz fenton #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #jason todd #ghost game au #tw blo0d #tw body horror #dp oc #fic spoilers

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theminecraftbee · 7 months

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hermit horror week day 1: season 8 or game mechanics

His teeth still taste like blood.

He's locked inside the belly of the Octagon. He doesn't know when he got there, but whoever wrestled him into it was smarter than Ren. They realized the full moon's light didn't reach the wiring. They realized it would give him time to down wolfsbane and silver nitrate. It also gave him time to throw it all up in the corner. If Doc were here, he'd be scolding Ren on the fact that silver nitrate is still a toxin and a disinfectant, and he should still be taking it in small doses, no matter how badly he wants to poison the wolf.

He curls up, shuddering, against the wires and pipes that power the shop. He feels thin and gaunt. He hopes he has not had much to eat. He doesn't have a phone or communicator on him. He doesn't know the day. It doesn't matter what the day is. The moon's visible during the daytime, too. It may have only been a night. It may have been weeks. It's probably at least been days.

He throws up again, because wolfsbane is poisonous too.

Most things that can keep a wolf down are poisonous. Ren doesn't have to take them often. He's normally... controlled. A tamed wolf on the full moon. He has a pack to run with. He doesn't need to poison himself to keep the wolf at bay. He doesn't need to take silver nitrate like it's a medicine and not a reagent.

But none of this is making his teeth stop tasting like blood. His shirt is covered in it, too. His legs. His face, he thinks--he can't see his reflection in here. He wouldn't know. But it would have to be. There's so much blood on him.

He doesn't have a scratch on him.

The only thing that stops him, then, from taking more silver nitrate is that if he respawns from the poison damage, he'll respawn out under the moon. He'll respawn back out there. And then--

He shudders. He folds himself into a tighter ball against the belly of the Octagon. In a shaking voice, he cries out for Doc again. Doc has to be nearby. Doc has to be nearby. Because if he isn't--

No one answers. Ren doesn't know who locked him in here. He wonders if it was a struggle.

He's covered in blood.

It smells horribly good. Ren feels dizzy. He's gaunt. He's so hungry. He'll hold that to his chest. He's hungry and sick, not simply sick. If he weren't hungry--if he weren't hungry--

But he's not as hungry as he should be, if it's been days, and he's covered in blood, and he resists the urge to howl, a long, mournful thing. He doesn't want to howl, or bark, or anything else right now.

Instead he cries, a human thing, and holds onto it tightly while he waits for the pain in his stomach and the shudders over his skin and the grey stains where he'd grabbed the bottle and the vomiting to end, so he can take another dose, and force the wolf further down. Down enough to be safe.

Down enough that he didn't maul his friends to death.

Down enough that he can know if he did.

Down enough that he won't try to leave again, as he knows he will, as the moon shines outside, and as soon as someone tries to open the door to rescue him, letting that light back in.

#hermithorrorweek2023 #a bee fic #hermitcraft #rendog #okay so if i'm gonna do a prompt week apparently i have to ease into it gently. by going back to my horror wheelhouse #and simply doing Weird Big Moon Stuff #i fought for TOO LONG to come up with game mechanics as a prompt when season eight was RIGHT THERE #anyway. more stories where the horror of the werewolf isn't that there is a wolf.#but that you are a wolf. and you do not know what you have done.#anyway. ren the werewolf during big moon huh.#gore #horror #emetophobia #self harm #...this is basically just whump more than horror but LETS GO I NEEDED TO WRITE THAT TOO #moon's big #ask to tag

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chimerahyperfix · 1 month

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You’re looking for something— no, someone, too, aren’t you?

(I can’t comprehend how you understand what’s going on, with your lifeless shell. Craft as you are.)

#isat #in stars and time #live a live #isat loop #cube live a live #RAHHHHHH [COMBINES MY FIXATIONS]#behold my crack fic au. tiny robot in dormont #I’m cooking let me cook. cube has the little guy little dude vibes #and is also canonically like. a baby?#their chapter in the game happens the day they were finished #so. a baby.#cube is so <3. their chapter is a space horror #I would 100% recommend at least watching a video of it #IT GOES CRAZYYYYYY #pov flicking a card that says die child die at the floor. so #anyways. this au makes no sense to anyone but me #this is MY funny house and I’m going to play in it #worlds smartest baby [a robot] figures out timeloop shit before the party more at 2 #if you ask I WILL ramble abt the concept of this au I will #<- trying desperately to get away from working on my other au post #[I need to draw smth for it and I’m struggling lollll]#sitting here like ughhh I don’t wanna draw this imageee [puts off entire au post]#ANYWAYSSSS #LOOP WOULD HATE THIS KID. the fuck is a robot.#the fuck is this damn thing and how has it read me literally immediately #how dare you be made of craft. be artificial. and be able to read my despair like a book #how dare you; a fake being made by someone else. be more human to me than the people that once were my party #how dare you want to help me when I dont know you because you didn’t EXIST in my loops #…but. uh. thanks for the coffee. even if I can’t drink it I recognize the sentiment. or whatever #falls to the floor dramatically. oughhhh loop and cube ougughhh

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aviscarrentals · 2 months

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Yelp (Prologue) ls2

masterlist next chapter

words: 796

warnings: cursing, implied violence and character death, it's literally the opening scene of scream so use your imagination

notes: i promise these specific characters have been chosen for plot-related reasons. i love kimi, it made me sad to hurt him, but it's worth it for the story i promise 😪 hope you enjoy this teaser! i'll get to working on the main plot real soon i promise 🤞also if you see any mistakes please let me know. english is my first language, i'm just fucking stupid

“Mum, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m literally 18 in August.” … “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you, but I’m not a kid. He doesn’t even do anything; he just sits on the couch, watches TV, and eats all of the good crisps.” … “Yeah, I know I said I don’t need him, but what’s the point of even having him here if he doesn't do anything?!”

“Kimi, pipe down a bit, will ya?”

“See? Did you hear that?” … “I’m not even being that loud!” … “Okay, yeah, that was loud, but it was because I’m pissed off, Mum.” … “That’s not even a curse word!”

“Mate!”

“Sorry, Ralf.” … “What? Are you kidding me? No, I’m not gonna call him ‘Mr. Aron.’” … “Yeah, whatever.” … “Sorry. Yeah, have fun, love you. Bye.”

Kimi hung up the phone and sighed dramatically. “I’m 17 years old,” he whispered to himself in the way one does when they’re angry, but don’t want anyone else to hear, while he fake kicked the wall.

After several minutes of pantomiming a temper tantrum, Kimi sat down at his desk. He could hear the disgusting crunches of crisps being belligerently chomped on by an open mouth from downstairs harmonizing with the bickering voices of Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago on the television.

“Fuck this,” he muttered under his breath and unlocked his phone. Just as his finger was about to press the call button on his friend Ollie’s contact page, the screen went black, except for two green and red buttons and white, medium-sized lettering displaying who was on the other end of the line: “Unknown Caller”.

Spam, he immediately concluded and clicked the red button without hesitation. But, again, before he could select the FaceTime option, the Unknown Caller screen returned. Annoyed, he quickly answered and brought it up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked tiredly. Maybe it was some distant relative who thought it was his birthday or something?

“Hello,” the voice on the other end echoed.

“Hello? Who is this?” he demanded, already out of patience. The last thing he needed on this already tragically boring evening was to get stuck on the phone for an hour with someone who claimed to have changed his diapers when he was a baby.

“Oh, you know who it is. We’re good friends,” the voice replied, this time with an eerie tone that made his skin crawl.

Before Kimi could answer, the sound of a bowl clattering to the hardwood ground made him turn his head to the open door. “Fucking dumbass,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me?” the voice seethed.

“What? Oh, not you,” Kimi rushed to explain, “my stupid babysitter.”

“Babysitter?” it asked him, chuckling.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning back in his chair. “Shut up. I meant-”

“No, I know what you meant,” the other line interrupted. “I know all about you…”

This made Kimi sit back up in his chair. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” It simply stated.

“Alright, is this a joke? You guys know I don’t like shit like this; it’s not fun-”

“This isn’t a prank!” the voice hollered.

Kimi fell out of his seat at the sudden noise, hitting his shoulder on the edge of his desk.

“Pardon my tone,” it apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just don’t like when I’m not taken seriously.” Kimi could hear the bitterness seeping in toward the end of the sentence.

“You didn’t startle me,” he lied, getting up from the floor.

“Oh, don’t you try and deceive me,” the voice reprimanded with a snicker. “I see everything.”

Kimi’s heart fell to his now standing feet. “...what did you just say?”

“I said, ‘I know everything.’”

“No, you didn’t. You said…” At this realization, Kimi dropped his phone, not even bothering to end the call, and rushed out of his bedroom. Prank or not, he was freaked the fuck out and wanted to leave. Right. Fucking. Now.

As he made his way down the stairs, he abruptly came to a halt before he reached the bottom. On the floor in front of the couch lay a mess of crushed crisps and a haphazardly tossed wooden bowl from his cupboard. No Ralf. With shaking limbs, he descended the final steps to inspect the scene further.

“Mike! Mike! Mike!”

Kimi turned around so quickly he almost lost his balance. His heart settled when he realized it was just the stupid movie playing on the television. He promptly grabbed the remote and turned it off.

But when he looked at the reflection of the black tinted glass, he could see something behind him. Something out of the ordinary. He squinted to try and make out what it was.

“Aw, you don’t like scary movies?”

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