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staarboyyy · 7 months

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a worthy test

mark hoffman x gender neutral reader

18+ scenarios / characters - minors dni

tags / warnings ; dead dove, detective!reader, kidnapping, smut, gender neutral anatomy, gags, rough sex, slapping, needles, drugging, unhealthy dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, size difference kink, age difference, creampie, big ol man tiddies YEEHAWW!!

summary ; you and your team of investigators have been after jigsaw's apprentice for months, yet waking up bound to a chair makes way for suprises more sinister than you could have imagined

word count ; 1.6k

a/n; blame this fic on @sehtoast and all of cozy corner for being such lovely encouraging folk :) anyways enough mushy shit, take the long awaited nasty stuff!

You awoke to a strange sensation. Everything in the past 18 hours had been nothing more than a blur, your eyes opening slowly, squinting in the bright light that was forcing its way through your lids. It was a struggle to recall anything, swimming through the cloudy memories to sift out the important ones. You tried turning your head, desperate for some clue as to how you'd ended up in this room, let alone bound to a cold rusty chair.

"Morning Detective."

A familiar voice breathed into the cold air, causing you to jump slightly. You blinked with a harsh squint, eyes struggling to take in the form of the man before you, still adjusting to the dim room. All the while, your heart pounded in your chest as the large silhouette revealed itself. It was Mark - You and your team had been after him for months ever since you learned of his betrayal. His piercing eyes are fixed upon you, his expression hard and emotionless.

He kept his gaze on you as panic began to surface in the flush of your cheeks, blush rushing in your ears. No. This must be a nightmare, a delusion - Anything besides the truth. You struggled for a moment with the fabric gag wrapped around your mouth and jaw, tied behind your head. You were not just desperate to speak, you wanted to scream, to demand a fucking answer for everything as the man stood in front of you, hands behind his back. Was he pleased? His expression was difficult to read, head cocking slightly off to the side as he watched you struggle before him. A smirk pushed at the corner of his full lips, eyebrows twitching slightly - He looked almost confused at your panic and desperation to understand the situation. In his eyes, you should be thankful to still be afraid enough just to worry and wonder, taking in every shuddered breath with rousing appreciation. At this, you wanted to feel sick. You wanted to.

The cold leather of his gloved sent rolling chills over the backs of your arms, hairs on your neck at a sharp standstill. He was your colleague. He had always been cold, brutally honest for the sake of what you thought had been good. Surely there had to be something good still in the man before you, who now wore a prowling gaze like a stalking predator. Your teeth grit at the red fabric tied tightly around your head, trying to bite back the words that roared in your mind - No way in hell you'd break first.

"Somethin' wrong?"

His voice was quiet, his body stilling as he walked behind you, gloved hands resting on your shoulders. The leather was cold, his thumbs digging uncomfortably hard into your back, causing you to grunt slightly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, sugar."

Mark's hands slid over your body, taking little time to savor how you felt under his hands, his fingers beginning to slowly unlatch your wrists from the chair. It wasn't hesitant, the movement was practiced - He knew his presence alone kept you pinned to the spot. No binds needed, not with the pooling arousal that now flushed your cheeks and mind, your thighs shifting uncomfortably in the rusting chair. The man's steps echoed through the dark warehouse, now facing you with a strangely bored expression, eyes darting towards your bound ankles. The detective pulled in a slow breath as your heartbeat rushed in your ears, tilting his head as he kept his gaze on your ankles.

"You gonna be good?"

He didn't bother to look towards you as he spoke, practically speaking to himself as he slowly knelt before you. It would be so easy, you thought. To run, to push him away and fight him off. The latches came undone, and he rose to his full height once again. He shadowed over your figure, shoulders wide and dress shirt buttons straining, sleeves rolled over his thick forearms; There was no fight worth trying for, not as he pulled you like a ragdoll from the chair and pressed your cheek against the brick wall.

Your blood ran cold. You were in over your head. You could feel Mark's grasp on your hips, thumbs rubbing over the protruding bones with a perverse hunger. His hands were able to cover your entire lower back, shamelessly palming at your ass. “Wait, just-” Your voice was silenced when one of the older man’s hands slid up your clothed back, fingers tangling in your hair for a moment, savoring the sudden sound of skin against skin. With a strangled gasp, Mark's fingers tightened on your hair, making a fist and forcing your body against his own; Somewhere in Mark’s mind, he could hear your screaming. Your abundant surprised gasps and yelps would surface over his clouded mind, as he watched you struggle helplessly, wincing at your outcries. With a clench of his jaw, he felt a proud smile prod at the corners of his lips, the thoughts brushing past him. He had just sunken half way inside, yet the strange pulling burn of being stretched open planting a growing arousal. Sweat rolled down his back in beads, bending in pools with his tensing body as he ruthlessly used you, pinned underneath him. You had been a vice on Mark's cock, suffocating your mind and body with an insatiable hunger, a chemical greed to be adequately filled and used, to be bred without gentle caresses or soft words. The man released your hair, reaching forward towards your throat and clasping his fingers tightly around it, using grip as leverage to tear through you even deeper. Every inch of your body roared in numbing desire, twitching as your senses ricocheted voraciously. You arched your back eagerly into the man above you, tears stinging your bottom lashes to fall as Mark remorselessly gripped your throat, ceasing the gasps instantly. The line between pleasure and pain began to blur as your vision did, eyes rolling shut, squeezing them closed as you endured the desperate assault, body licked and abused by unwavering flames and large animalistic hands - The smell of cologne smothered your consciousness, tears casing your flushed cheeks as strangled gasps emerged from your throat. Though you couldn't sense the words gathering in your mind, nor taste them leave your frantic lips, you could feel them in the air; The unabashed begging, pleading Mark not to stop. You sobbed bit hard onto the saliva soaked gag between your lips, aimless and muffled as Mark's pace began to slow.

"Don't stop,"

Mark's large hand glided over your hips, tracing down your arms to wrap over both your wrists. He gave a punctuating thrust forward, bottoming out inside of you with a strangled moan, head dipping forward as he pulled your body against his own. You were a toy to him, his hands exploring your body, groping your thighs and sliding his digits past your gag, groaning quietly at the feeling of your tongue against his gloved fingers. Your body was shaking, glazed in sweat as you stood on your tippy-toes to keep up with the man who so effortlessly pulled you into his demanding thrusts. His cock twitched as you squirmed, body wanting so badly to fight the pleasure that now threatened to spill over.

"You're gonna be the death of me - So fuckin' tight,"

Mark slammed his hips forward with every word, his hold on your wrists tightening, pulling you away from the wall to press impossibly deeper into you. Your body seared with pleasure and pain, rousing a euphoric heat to spark and glaze itself on your skin - It was electric, how he handled your full weight; No, not just handled it, he insisted it. He wanted you, all of you. He wanted you in tears, drool rolling down your lips as you beg for more in that precious muffled whimper. His cock pulsed inside you, thrusts becoming messy as he watched your ass push snugly against his hips, bouncing back, desperate for even more. No words could properly describe what you craved from the other, your body shaking and knees threatening to buckle underneath your weight, sweat dripping from your temples and jaw. It was a hot blinding spark, your body quaking as your scream pitched up to break, echoing throughout the abaonded warehouse. It didn't matter if you were limp, mind numb and broken as he kept your body tight against his own.

"You're mine. Understand that?"

You couldn't respond, hardly registering his voice until the leather palm came to slap hard against your flushed cheek. Your eyes flew open in shock, pulling in a deep gasp, only to be cut off by his hand gripping your throat.

"Thaat's right, you're all mine - Fuck baby,"

Marks euphoria reached it's peak, eyes glued to your body rutting shamelessly against him as his cock spilled messily into you. He fucked his cum deep, keeping ahold of you with a grasp sure enough to leave flowering bruises. He gasped sharply, eyes sliding shut as they rolled back, lips hanging open; You were his, entirely. Even as you woke from a fading haze, thighs messily stained with cum and flowered with large bruises, you were still wrapped in a thick quilt. It didn't matter where you were, your mind spinning as the cold puncture of a sedative filled needle pushed into your forearm. You would have atleast opened your eyes to see the perpetrator, but the feeling of his leather gloves against your skin had become a familar one.

"Sleep well, detective."

#bowies fics #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x male reader #mark hoffman x you #mark hoffman x oc #mark hoffman saw #detective hoffman #saw franchise #saw

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devondespresso · 9 months

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FINALLY

after NINE. HOURS. (NOT including meals and sleep) ITS FUCKING DONE.

A complete floorplan of the entire Harrington house. Including too much thought about random, throw-away lines from characters and squint-to-see-it background glimpses inside.

plently of stuff in the actual house is altered or straight up ignored in favor of following the fiction logic and because I Wanted To. A lot of this is motivated by my headcanons for the Harringtons and how I'm writing them in my fic, but I'm also certainly not an architect so it's by no means perfect. It is, however, unreasonably canon compliant in the few bits we do see.

Thought Process (for context):

the darker shaded floor areas are lower than the rest, some bits like the garages having stairs and some areas like the sun and dining rooms list being like a step lower. Windows are marked with dashes along the outside, sliding doors are two thin lines slightly overlapping, stairs change color as they diverge from the level we're looking at, and furniture is eyeballed so don't look to closely a the scale.

not all closets are labeled, just the ones i figured could be confusing. Steve and the guest rooms have closets i promise.

the laundry room and pantry are not the same size but by the time i noticed i was exhausted. so pretend they're both more reasonably sized.

i don't know what the floorplan symbol for garage door is and then i forgot to look so the headlights point to where the doors are and you can see them clearly in photos so yeah.

The general layout is based on the idea that the Harringtons are or were into hosting dinner parties and business meetings in their home, especially as a young rich couple looking for respect in their circles (Mr. Harrington taking on his father's business and reinforcing that power, Mrs. Harrington climbing her own social ladder and building an image).

So the house is laid out with hosting areas towards the right with the office big and near the dining room because it's more than just a workplace, it represents him as a businessman. In canon the entryway and living room both have very high ceilings and no second-floor above them, so I'd imagine they're also aware of how the top floor looks from below, hence the fancy double/french doors to the master bedroom which is in plain view from below. Steve's room and the guest room are's nearly as visible.

As for the kitchen and sun/pool rooms, I see them more as secondary hosting areas that aren't used as the main location most of the time and are more this background setting to these events that still feel rich. The kitchen is massive and mostly for dinner-parties and Mrs. Harrington's social events.

The kitchen and main bathroom's placement is based on a line Steve said to Barb giving her directions to the bathroom: "down past the kitchen, to the left". With the massive living room on the left and wanting to keep the dining and office close by, i interpreted the "to the left" part being like "find the kitchen, then turn left". And with the rest of the area being open-concept, the bathroom would be the only normal door over there and easy to find. it's a bit of a stretch with just that line, but it makes sense to me with the rest of the context for the layout.

the basement is similar to this, though not as openly displayed so I imagine its for slightly closer friends. Theres a garage door down there so I figured Mr. Harrington might have a cool car he shows off, like he's letting people in on a personal detail about himself. There's also a guest room down there (the only one still considered 100% for guests, more on that later) for those people.

beside the basement garage, there was originally one main garage that holds two cars, obvious Mr. and Mrs. Harrington's cars. I imagine they bought the house before having kids, so a third one wasn't on the mind but after having Steve they added the front one (either turning the carport into a closed garage or they never had a carport and added a whole new addition, up to you)

Both garages lead to the same part of the house, and that area is the only one besides the water heater room that is purely function over effect. It still looks good like the rest of the house but it's not made to be fancy because guests would rarely need to be over there if at all and it's not noteworthy from other parts of the house.

In my headcanon, Steve's room used to be a guest room, staying his room from nursery to present with Mrs. Harrington renovating every now and then. Its one of those places in the house that doesn't have to look perfect for all to see, so she gets creative and has fun with it.

The upstairs guest room is also unofficially Mrs. Harrington's room, based on a line where Tommy mentions a fireplace in "his mom's room" instead of "guest room" or "parent's room" or "master bedroom". I belatedly realized this could be a solidarity thing with Steve hating his dad and calling the master bedroom his mom's room, but that was after 9 hours of this and im not changing it but there you go. In this version, I imagine she leaves the master some nights because her marriage with Mr. Harrington is failing (cheating and all, I wouldn't want to be in the same bed with someone who cheated either)

the master bathroom was an executive decision, just looking at the house in canon and not having enough space in my first attempts, i decided the triangle roof part above the dining and office could fit a master bathroom.

Feel free to use or reference this in your own fics! Feel free to block out my furniture or walls and make your own version. If you share my image please credit with an @ mention!! (again, 9 hours) (thank you fhalsfhd)

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corazomma · 1 year

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send rajbow fics my way pls

#I NEED MORE FICS #my art #total drama #total drama island #total drama 2023 #total drama reboot #total drama spoilers #rajbow #td raj #td bowie #total drama raj #total drama bowie #bowraj

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opscuritas · 7 months

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Happy spooky season from Azi and Crowley! 🎃 👻

This is a scene of one of my favorite fics ever: "Somewhere only we know" by @ineffable-star

Loved the idea of Crowley dressing up as Bowie and Aziraphale as Freddie, especially the opportunity to see some chest hair and knee-high boots🔥 🥵

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totaled-drama · 7 months

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raj want to kill a spider for bowie but both of them gets scared so wayne kill it instead

Thank you for the request!!!! :)

#total drama #marsh’s td art #total drama raj #total drama wayne #total drama bowie #rajbow #Raj saw the spider and immediately knew this was something that Wayne could deal with ajdhsjdg #how Creepy Crawlies (my fic) should have ended /j #tw spiders #tw arachnophobia

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the-boney-rolls · 1 month

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It was New York, around 1974, and I think it was around the first time they had gotten back together again. I got a knock at the door at the Pierre Hotel where I had taken over a suite for months and months…. About three in the morning there’s a knock on the door and John was there, and he had Paul with him! The two of them had been out on the town for the evening. He said “Can we come in? You won't believe who I've got here,” and I said, “Wow I thought you two had…” and he said, “No no, all that's going to change.” It was great! We just spent the evening talking. It was kinda a strange thing between them, there was a little bit of distance every now and again. But that must've been the first time they were back together since the big bust-ups. They actually asked me if I'd join the two of them and become a trio with them, and we'd change the name to something like David Bowie and The Beatles because they liked the idea of it being DBB. But, you know, the next morning it just never came to anything.

David Bowie on BBC 6 Radio Music in 2004

#presumably linda and may were there but he doesn't mention them so I'll choose to imagine they were having a boys night #and also that by “the next morning” he means they slept over #fic idea please #also i can't tell if this is just a more positive spin on the story may tells in loving john #about john and paul being sort of stand offish about young americans #but again i'll choose to believe this happened just as he told it #john lennon #paul mccartney #david bowie #the beatles #mclennon

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pizzaqueen · 2 years

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Eddie doesn't dance. He loves moving around to music—headbanging and jumping and just going crazy—but he doesn't dance. And he doesn't slow dance.

Okay, well, in all honesty, Eddie's never thought about it. It's not like he's got some rule about it: Eddie Munson does not dance and he especially doesn't slow dance. He's never had to. He doesn't go to school dances and he's never had a girlfriend or anything and if he's going to see a band then everyone's headbanging. And he loves it. It's the only way to move to the music he loves.

And, when he finds himself with a boyfriend, and that boyfriend is Steve Harrington, he's not thinking about slow dancing in the moonlight or whatever. It just doesn't occur to him. So, the first time Steve says, "Dance with me," Eddie maybe doesn't take it seriously. He goofs off, starts jumping around and headbanging to whatever music Steve's put on (and, yeah, he lets Steve choose the music sometimes) and Steve huffs and rolls his eyes and smiles, so Eddie does it the next time and the time after that.

But, one time, he notices this disappointed look on Steve's face—not just disappointed, but resigned—and the bottom falls out of his stomach. He thought Steve enjoyed watching Eddie goof off which, now that he thinks about it, is kind of stupid. He doesn't have to ask Eddie to dance to watch him be an idiot. He tries to backpedal, get Steve to jump around with him, but Steve waves him off. No amount of cajoling works either.

So, Eddie devises a plan. It's pretty simple: make a compilation tape of songs that seem danceable; get boyfriend to dance with him. He mostly puts songs from bands he likes that have mellower tunes—there's Sabbath and Zeppelin and one track from an old Aerosmith album he had as a kid—and some from his mom's collection—Rainbow and Queen and even Cheap Trick—and he sneaks some Springsteen and Bowie on there, too, because this is meant to be for Steve. Or for both of them. Either way, there should be songs Steve likes. (And, well, Steve already liked Queen and he says he's getting used to Eddie's music, which makes Eddie stupidly happy.)

Next time they hang out, he doesn't wait for Steve to ask him to dance. He puts on the cassette and stands in front of Steve, who's sitting on the couch. He holds out his hand and says, "Dance with me."

Steve frowns up at him. Eddie makes a beckoning motion with his hand. Steve slips his hand into Eddie's, lets Eddie pull him to his feet, a curious smile tilting his mouth. "What's going on?"

"We're dancing." And that's when Eddie realizes he doesn't really know how to dance. "Uh, I guess you might have to teach me," he adds, feeling a little foolish.

But he doesn't have to worry—Steve loops his arm around Eddie's waist, pulling him close, and moving them around the room. It's nice. Really nice. Eddie feels dumb for not thinking it would be. He loves being close to Steve, and he loves hugging him, so why wouldn't he like this? And that itch to throw himself around isn't there either. There's almost a calm that washes over him.

When Steve takes his hand and spins him under his arm, Eddie laughs and says, "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Nowhere," Steve says, quickly. Too quickly.

"Come on." Eddie digs his fingers into Steve's side, tickling him. "Tell me."

"Don't laugh," Steve says.

Eddie holds up a hand. "No laughing, I swear."

"My mom wanted to take dancing lessons, last year, and my dad wouldn't go with her." Steve shrugs. "So, I went." He looks up and sighs. "Okay, you know what, you can laugh if you want. It's dorky, I know."

"I think it's nice," Eddie says. And he does.

Steve raises his brows then says, "Yeah, okay," ducking his head with that cute smile of his. They dance for a while longer and Eddie could so easily get used to this. He loses himself in it, barely hearing Steve when he whispers, "Thank you."

"Any time," Eddie says, heart beating wildly when Steve smiles.

And then Steve pulls away, still smiling. He turns the tape off, puts another in, and Priest comes blasting through the speakers.

Eddie's brow furrows. "What—" But he's cut off when Steve grabs him around the middle from behind, spinning him around.

When Steve puts him down, he says, "Teach me how to headbang," into Eddie's ear.

Eddie turns around. "Really?"

"Yeah," Steve says, "really," and Eddie grins.

"All right, you just go like this," he says and starts banging his head in time to the music.

And the sight of Steve Harrington headbanging in his trailer is pretty damn awesome. And also kind of funny. The ease off on the headbanging, holding hands, and jumping around until they're both breathless. Eddie puts the other tape back on again, and they end up in each other's arms, swaying to the mellower rhythms.

"We should do this again," Eddie says.

"Yeah," Steve says, "I'd like that," and twirls Eddie around and around.

#Steddie #steve x eddie #steveddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #clearing out my drafts #the End makes me think twirling twirling twirling towards freedom 🤣🤣#But I’m leaving it!#I was going to make a playlist to go with it but it’s too much effort lol #But when you rock and roll with me by Bowie is definitely on there #And probably sweet emotion by Aerosmith #Maybe I should’ve made this into an actual fic 🤔#pizzaqueenfic

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lulublack90 · 3 months

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Prompt 8 - Headphones

@jegulus-microfic February 8 Word count 940

Previous part First part

CW- Blood, cuts, the aftermath of torture.

Time slowed as they descended the stairs. Each step took an age. By the time he reached the bottom and stood at the door to the cellar, he was certain that an hour had gone by. In reality, it had been less than a minute.

Sirius reached around him and opened the door.

“Come on, James. He needs us.” Sirius urged him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. James nodded and walked through the door.

He was immediately hit by a strong, metallic smell—Iron—Blood! It was too dark to see clearly, but he could make out a figure slouched on a chair in the middle of the room.

Sirius muttered a charm. A floating orb appeared, illuminating the small room.

James gasped at the sight before him. Regulus’s head was lolling back, his face swollen and bruised. His body was covered in thin slashes, slowly oozing blood. James looked down at the pool of red collecting on the floor around the chair and grimaced.

This was his fault. Regulus suffered because of him.

He rushed forward, determined to help him. He yanked at the ropes, binding Regulus to the chair. Regulus groaned weakly at the movement.

“It’s alright, love. I’ve got you.” He murmured into Regulus’s ear. Sirius had pulled open the slim cupboard in the corner and started rummaging through the collection of glass vials.

“What do we need?” He shot over his shoulder at James.

James looked Regulus over again.

“Blood replenisher, pain potion and dittany if they have it.” James heard the clatter of vials being moved aside, and then Sirius was beside him, ripping the stoppers out with his teeth.

“Reg, sweetheart, I need you to open your mouth so we can give you the potions.” He carefully lifted Regulus’s head upright and tried to pry his jaws apart. But Regulus chomped down, refusing to cooperate.

“Regulus you absolute prat. Open your damn mouth, and let us help you!” Sirius butted in, taking a different approach to James.

James stared in wonder as the younger man shot daggers at his brother but opened his mouth just wide enough for the potions to be poured in.

“That’s the blood replenisher. The next one’s a pain killer, okay, Reggie. You’ll start feeling better in a minute.” Sirius assured his brother as he tipped the second vial into his mouth.

James started using the basic healing charms that he knew. At least nothing seemed to be broken. He could heal cuts and bruises alright, but bones were another matter.

Soon, Regulus’s face looked almost back to normal. The bruises would fade completely in the next day or two.

James decided it would be easier for Regulus and themselves if he laid down, so he transfigured the chair into a cot and helped Sirius to lie him down flat.

Sirius pulled out his headphones and carefully placed them over his brother’s head.

“What the fuck have you just put on me.” Regulus’s hoarse voice croaked. He seemed more alert, so the potions must be helping.

“Headphones,” He said as he pressed play on his walkman. “Brand new muggle technology. Thought it might help you relax while we fix the rest of you.” James had already started healing the cuts along one of his arms.

“Ugh, fine. Who’s singing?” Regulus didn’t have the energy to fight his brother, and the music blocked the sound of his healing skin.

“Bowie,” Sirius answered simply.

“Bowies shit,” Regulus complained through gritted teeth.

“Only because you’re a heathen. Bowie is magical. Do not dis, Bowie!” It took James a few frustrated moments to realise that Sirius was deliberately bickering with Regulus to keep his mind off what they were doing to him.

He healed the last cut on Regulus’s left arm. His fingers brushed against the ugly black brand on his forearm. How different their lives could have been if Regulus hadn’t joined Voldemort. He drew his eyes away from the mark and started healing the next section.

They healed every cut, and Sirius had the bright idea to add the essence of dittany into his body cream to make it easier to get it on all of Regulus’s sore body.

When they were finished, Regulus cracked open an eye.

“Can I go to sleep now?” He asked quietly. James and Sirius looked at each other, knowing they needed to get something from him, or Moody would come straight back down here, and they wouldn’t be allowed back down again.

Not yet, love. We need some information. Something important that we can give to Moody.” He stroked his cheek delicately with the backs of his fingers.

“Was this the plan all along? Bad Auror Moody, and then you two come in all, ‘let us save you, Reggie.’” He looked hurt like they were playing with him.

“What? No, of course not. We had to plead with Mad-Eye just to be allowed to come down here.—”

“We’re trying to help you, you git. Do you really think James would try and trick you like that?” Sirius butted in, trying his more direct tactic again.

Regulus looked up at James sadly and nodded.

“Okay. I’ve got something. But I get to keep these things.” He pointed at the headphones. Sirius looked outraged.

“I’ve only just got them. Plus, you don’t even like Bowie.” Regulus gave him a small smirk.

“He’s growing on me.”

“Gah. Fine. Keep them. Now tell us the information you have.” Sirius gave in quickly. This was more important than a walkman. Regulus swallowed hard and stared into James’s eyes as he told them.

“He’s going to attack the Ministry.”

Next part

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sonicpilled · 6 months

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Pull You From Your Guilt (Zombic AU)

Chapter One

Content warnings: suicide, detailed death description , razor blade mention

word count = 2903

sonic+shadow angst (for most of it)

“Three months. It had been three months.

That wasn’t enough. Not at all. That wasn’t enough time to get over this. It had been just three months since he had died. Three months since Shadow found him curled up in the blood-stained bathtub.”

enjoy!! or hate!! Ya!

Three months. It had been three months.

Sonic had called him the night before. Shadow had been busy, checking out one of Dr. Robotnik’s many abandoned bases. They talked for a bit, Shadow had to go, and Sonic was left alone. Sitting against the bathtub, his gloves and socks on the floor beside him. Why couldn’t he stay on the line just a bit longer?

It was pouring that night, the air humid. The water was warm.. Westopolis’s weather is unpredictable, but it didn’t help that rain in the summer was unusual to begin with. The rain is supposed to be with the cold, and the heat needs to be with a bright sun. Things never work out how they’re supposed to. The shitty weather didn’t matter anyways, not to Shadow, atleast. He was there for a reason, and it wasn’t sightseeing.

Most of Robotnik’s unoccupied facilities consisted of old storage units, filled with unused badniks and tech that just collected dust. Prototypes, failures, whatever. It was all kind of useless. Yet, Shadow considered that looking through the place wouldn’t be a total waste of time. These types of.. scavenging days were just Shadow looking through boxes and shelves for anything that even looked a smidge useful. You never know what you might find. There’s always new information waiting to be uncovered, He thought to himself, as he walked through the dark halls.

He was cautious, like always. Carefully stepping through the corridors, being mindful of any potential triggers of alarms or robots. The quiet clank from his metal boots hitting the ground was the only thing that could be heard. As Shadow looked through drawers and cabinets, breaking locks, he felt himself growing bored. He hadn’t searched the entire facility yet, so he’d still have to be there for a while.

A quiet beeping from the communication device on his wrist snapped him out of his thinking. It was sonic. Shadow huffed a little in relief, knowing he wouldn’t be so bored much longer. Though he could be pretty distracting, he really did enjoy talking to Sonic. Though it wasn’t announced officially or anything, (except to Rouge) they did have something going on. He had been meaning to check up on him for a while, anyways. Shadow looked around the dusty storage unit, checking his surroundings before he answered the call.

Sonic sat there, up against the porcelain bathtub, the tapping of his claw on the bathroom floor a common stim of his. The water was on, filling up the tub with cold water. He preferred showers over baths, but there was something comforting about a bathtub sometimes. Large bodies of water did freak him out, there was no doubt about that. Yet, being submerged in a moderate, controlled amount of water made him feel safe.

He spent the gloomy day out, going for a run in the rain. That's what he always did when he wasn’t feeling well. Sonic had stopped by Tails’s workshop, just to check in. Of course, he was working on some new project. Sonic didn’t wanna bother him, seeing he was pretty focused. It was fine.

He passed by Amy’s, she was with Blaze. That’s okay.

Knuckles was already a no-go, he didn’t like being bothered on Angel Island. That’s alright.

The Chaotix was working on some case. That’s cool.

And of course, not even Robotnik was causing any trouble that day. That’s good.

“S’all good! I’ll stop by another time,” he’d say, because it was all good. It was fine that everyone Sonic knew was busy. The world didn’t revolve around him, now, did it? He decided he needed some time alone anyways. He went home, and stayed there. He did grow.. bored. And lonely. There was one person Sonic hadn’t looked for, because he knew he was doing something that didn’t need to involve him. He had hoped that maybe he was done now, and that he could have someone to talk to. So, he dialed Shadow’s number.

Sonic took his shoes off, then his socks, and then his gloves. He set them aside, staring at the bottom drawer on the bathroom cabinet as he waited for Shadow to pick up. He grew impatient after the phone not being immediately answered, reaching over and opening the drawer.

He should have locked that drawer, and thrown out the key. He had been clean for two weeks, he should have tried harder to keep it going. But oh.. he was so tired.. One iffy day shouldn’t have made him relapse. It was too late to dwell on, anyways. In the drawer was a first aid kit, and a ripped open package of gillette razor blades. Sonic grabbed one, and left the drawer open. Shadow picked up the phone.

“Hey.” Shadow's voice startled him, as he quickly set the harmful object on the ground, as if Shadow was there to even see it. He stared at his phone with a little tired smile.

“Hey, Shadz! I, uh.. Are you busy? Ya doing anything?” He spoke with a bit of urgency, just a bit excited for the chance to have a conversation with someone.

“I’m busy. Though.. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to chat for a bit. What's up?” Shadow whispered into his communicator, looking over where he was searching while he spoke with Sonic. There was a bit of a silence for a moment, Shadow growing only a little skeptical. “Sonic?”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Sorry about my terrible timing! Look, if you’re too busy right now, I really don’t wanna be a total bother to you,” Sonic spoke quietly, the water running in the background. He tried to hide his disappointment, but Shadow saw right through it. He always did. For someone as impulsive and carefree as Sonic, he really did do that a lot. To back down from things like expressing how he felt, yet run right into explosions like it was nothing. Shadow sighed, leaning back against the wall as he stared at the ground. He took a second to process Sonic’s words and obvious hesitation, knowing that something was definitely wrong.

“..Are you.. Are you alright?” Shadow’s tone softened, only a hint of worry in his voice. He knew Sonic too well.

“Yeah! For sure, for sure. Don’t worry about me, dude. I’ll be fine,” he replied all too quickly. He was lying. Sonic knew it was wrong to lie about his feelings, he just hated to be worried about. He stared at the bathroom tiles, with a small wince at his own words.

“Alright.. I suppose I’ll take your word for it. I.. I trust you. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise,” Shadow paused. He furrowed his brow at the communicator, thinking of how he could phrase the next thing he was going to say. “You have a lot of people you can talk to, you know that, Sonic?”

“Yeah, yeah.. I know,” Sonic mumbled. Shadow was right. He didn’t have to be hiding like this, it wasn’t good for his health.

“Please keep that in mind. Goodnight. I love you.” Shadow spoke softly, staring at the ground as he waited for a reply. He really did care about Sonic, and did what he could to show it to him.

“..I love you too.”

That was the last time they spoke.

The next time they were together was the next night. The rain died down, now it was just another warm summer night. It felt normal again. Shadow called and called, but Sonic never picked up the phone. Maybe his phones dead, he thought, trying not to think of the worst. He got worried, and used his spare key to his apartment. It was.. abnormally quiet. Usually, Sonic would be watching a movie, or attempting to cook, or napping. He was always doing something. But that night, it was quiet. Maybe he went out, he said to himself. He just wanted to convince himself that Sonic was okay.

He stopped walking after only a few steps into the apartment when he could smell it.

Shadow knew where he was now, as he crept down the hall. His nose was more sensitive than most mobians, which only worsened the fact that he knew exactly what he was going to see when he walked towards the bathroom, where the smell was strongest. He knew this scent well.

The stench of death.

His heartbeat quickened, as he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. No, no, no, no.. Shadow pushed the door open with a long creak. The only light in the dark bathroom was from the outside. He stared, wide-eyed. He saw which drawer was opened, he knew what exactly was in there. He knew exactly what Sonic had done to himself. He winced, as he flicked the light switch on.

The shower curtain was covering most of the tub, but Shadow knew exactly what was behind it. He slowly stepped towards the bathtub, and pulled back the stained curtain.

He was curled up in the bathtub, the water cold and completely red. Blood was caked onto his arms and thighs, his fur not at all that bright cobalt blue anymore. Stained and ruined, by his own hands. Shadow didn’t even want to look, but he just couldn't help it. He stared for a long time.

So, he sat there, holding a blue hedgehog in his arms. Shadow had pulled him out of the tub, Sonic’s fur wet from the water and crusty from his own dried blood. The mix of blood and water dripping on the bathroom tiles and all over Shadow. The mess was the least of his worries, as he held his love in his arms. Shadow had known he had problems with things like this before, he knew he had been clean for a short amount of time, he knew he was impulsive with stuff like this, he knew it all. Yet, it had never occurred to him that Sonic would actually end it. He was happy, he was never alone. He had so many people to talk to, to vent to. He seemed so happy.

Shadow knew that suicide wasn’t always predictable. He supposed he just couldn’t see Sonic as the type to consider it. Then again, that's… not the best way to think of the situation. Over the next few weeks, he had created a wall around himself. He’s gone through loss before, he's held a dead loved one in his arms already. He could get over it. He could push through it. So, he did. He pushed through calling an ambulance. He pushed through giving out the news about his death. He pushed through the funeral. He pushed through the silent motorcycle ride home. He pushed through it all.

He wasn’t okay.

How could he be?

The third week after Sonic’s death, a week after his funeral, Shadow had spoken to nobody. What would he talk about? He knew that they were mourning, but so was he. Shadow didn’t need to talk about how he felt when they were feeling the same exact way. Atleast, that's how he thought about it. He kept to himself, like he usually did.

One particular morning, he had been staring at the ceiling. Shadow had woken up maybe an hour ago, yet hadn’t gotten up to get ready for the day. It wasn’t by choice. His phone rang on his nightstand, and he only glanced at it. He didn’t really care who it was, as he’d let it go to voicemail either way. It was Rouge. Her message played on his answering machine. For a moment, he thought of how Sonic would poke fun at the fact that he still kept such an outdated piece of technology in his home. Shadow would explain to him the importance of preservation, even if he was just going to keep making fun of him the next time he came over. He missed that.

“C’mon Shadow. You can't just hide in your apartment forever, hun. You have to come out of that shell you’ve trapped yourself in,” Rouge spoke, her tone knowing yet tired. Shadow rolled onto his side, staring at the machine with weary eyes. She sighed.

“..I know you’re hurt. I know you loved him. And I know you blame yourself. But.. you have to understand that you couldn’t have known. Please, talk to us. We love you. I love you.” Her voice was soft, and he could tell she was frowning as she spoke. Shadow lowered his gaze, closing his eyes as the message was over.

Rouge was right.

He was hurt.

He was hurt so badly, he couldn’t even lie to himself and say he wasn’t.

Every little thing reminded him of Sonic, reminded him of how he was gone. Motorcycle rides around the city that were once exciting, just because he was there with him. The way he’d laugh, sitting close behind Shadow with his arms wrapped around his waist for support, urging him to speed up even if they were already well over the speed limit. Now it was quiet, the only sound heard being the noise of the engine .

As Shadow would walk along the beach, where they'd spent a few afternoons together at, he still felt like he would see Sonic by his side. Of course, he’d always get too close to his side, forgetting about personal space as he’d avoid the water. Not that Shadow minded being close to him, anyways. He missed that. The ocean breeze was much too cold now, as he’d stare at the sand in silence.

Shadow would be watching the news channel, and the news anchor would say some stupid pun. He’d glance to the spot at the couch where Sonic would always sit, just to see him snicker and smile, because he always thought dumb jokes were hilarious. But, he wasn’t there. He would never be there again.

All of that was thrown away.

Happy memories, now replaced with that terrible image of his body.

The worst of it was the dreams, which eventually became night terrors. He’d watch the same thing happen repeatedly each night, playing over and over again in his mind. Shadow couldn’t get it out of his head. It was his fault he was gone, that's what he’d tell himself. He’d visit Sonic’s grave, after those nightmares. Whatever time it was, he would be there.

For three months after Sonic’s death, he’d have those reoccurring dreams. A terrible one this time. It started nice, and sweet, an overwhelmingly happy memory. Like always.

The sun shining, the blades of grass and lavender petals dancing in the cool breeze. That pretty bright blue looked so nice in the sunlight. He fell down onto the colorful garden, his chest rising and falling. His laughter, something Shadow could never forget. It's a great thing he’d never dream of wanting to. Sonic grabbed his arm, pulling him down onto the soft, green grass. He grinned, looking up at him.

The blue hedgehog glanced away for a moment, peering out at the beautiful nature. He spoke softly, his voice only slightly muffled.

“It's amazing here. Why.. Why couldn’t you stay?” Sonic stared at Shadow, wide-eyed. He didn’t know what to say. He knew what he meant with his words, yet he just stared right back.

“I couldn’t have known. I couldn’t have known,” Shadow whispered urgently, looking down at the grass. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I couldn’t have known.”

“You knew. You knew..”

He opened his eyes, weakly. No longer was the grass and flowers dancing merrily. No longer was the sun shining. No longer was the blue fur bright and vibrant. He stared at the grimy bathroom tiles, the bloody paw prints along the floor. He stared at the dead hedgehog in his arms.

“You knew,” he spoke harshly.

Shadow gasped, sitting up in his bed. His fur wet from his own sweat, the night air quickly cooling it. He took in shaky breaths, covering his face. He sighed weakly, peeking out from his fingers and staring at the wall. Immediately, he tugged on the pull-cord of his vintage lamp, letting un-natural light into the room.

He stood up, immediately pulling on his boots. Shadow quickly opened his closet door, grabbing his leather jacket and putting it on. He took the green scarf, a christmas gift from Sonic, and wrapped it around his neck. He stepped out of his warm and cozy apartment, and out into the cold snow.

Shadow stared straight ahead as he rode his motorcycle to the cemetery. It was a little over two in the morning, but he didn’t care. He was used to this. This routine that shouldn’t have ever been a routine. He left his bike at the gate, following his mental map to Sonic’s grave.

He sighed, looking up from his set gaze to the ground with tired eyes. When he got to where he wanted to be, he stopped dead in his tracks. The hole in the ground, in which Sonic had been buried three months before, had been uncovered. Instead of the flat dirt surface that had been there all those nights, all those previous visits, was a mess of dirt and rocks. It didn’t look like a perfectly dug up hole. If it wasnt that Sonic’s grave was defiled, then what was it? He stared at the mess, frozen.

“..What the hell?”

(and thats it! )

first fic ive ever written.. pls give feedback 🙏

#pull you from your guilt #zombic au #my fic #bowies art #?#sonic #sonadow #sonadow angst

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totaldramadrawingsandstuff · 2 months

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Some art I did of one of my favourite fics (don’t judge me) called ‘Expect the unexpected’

The creator of said fic is Hashag_i

my drawing is of chapter 7, my personal favourite chapter

Please go and show their fic some support!

#julia total drama #mk total drama #total drama reboot #fanart #tdi #tdi mk #total drama 2023 #art #mkulia #mk x julia #Julia x Mk #fic arr #fanfic art #expect the unexpected #GO CHECK OUT THEIR FIC #artists on tumblr #:3 #Bowie is the No.1 Mkulia shipper fr #‘i know what you are’ - Bowie

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staarboyyy · 7 months

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quiet morning

amanda young x gender neutral reader

18+ scenarios / characters - minors dni

tags / warnings ; fluff, sleeping with socks, sleepy morning, buffmanda, pervymanda, straddling, teasing

summary ; amanda insists you both sleep in.

word count ; 930

a/n; gets just a liittle spicy near the end, thank you all for your support !! <3

Amanda groaned dramatically as you managed to pry yourself free from her long constricting arms. "Just a few more minutes," She mumbled into her pillow, legs pulled to her chest while you looked down at her with a small smile. Your's fingers began to thread through her messy hair as you stood by the bed, Amanda managing to bundle herself in the blankets to ward off the vile cold. Her hand poked out from the fabric, digits gently wrapping around your wrist.

"I could just pull you in, y'know..." She grumbled haphazardly, tugging slightly to coerce you back into bed.

"I'd like to see you tr-"

Almost immediately, the words were cut off by a loud cackle as your body was thrown off balance by a single hard yank. You scrambled blindly around the sheets, trying to stand once more, but Amanda's arms were the first to meet you, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your heart thrummed against her forearms as she rested her chin on your shoulder, now caging you in the warmth of the blankets and her abstractly long limbs. You wiggled around her grasp to face her, still grinning as your own hands met her face, leaning in to meet her wry eyes and small smile.

"We have things to do, 'Manda."

You mumbled, bumping your forehead against hers gently. You felt her shrug slightly, your thumbs coasting over her pronounced cheekbones as you sighed, shaking your head. Warm comfortable silence meeting you both, your eyes settling shut, still holding eachothers body with reverberating devotion.

"Stay."

Amanda breathes the word, lifting her head to press cool lips against youe warm forehead. You hummed at this, moving your arms to wrap over her long torso with a contented sigh. Her cold hands met one of your thighs, goosebumps gardening over your skin in response; With ease she slid your leg to also wrap over her body, the weight comforting her in an odd manner. You had been absolutely tangled in the morning air, Amanda's fingers gently pressing small patterns into your shoulder as you reveled in the odd tenderness of her you so rarely got to see.

"You wanna get some more sleep?"

Your eyebrows furrowed at her question, eyes focusing on the girl you now wrapped around her. Her arms snaked over your torso, pulling you to her as she sighed, closed eyes opening just enough to catch your questioning gaze. Your fingers messily combed through the loose dark whisps from Amamda's tied up hair, your free hand holding the weight of your chin with a propped up elbow.

"Hoffman isn't showing up today; John said we could use time together," She adds, making your still expression curve into a satisfied one. Her voice came in a low rippling wave, curtained by the sheen morning haze.

Amanda’s hands rubbed over your back, eyes shutting as she basked underneath your warmth and weight. You let your elbows bend, casting your head back onto her chest, fingertips gently fiddling with the fabric of her loose sweatshirt. A soft grey cotton, worn and only able to reach her navel, her jutting hip bones and exposed light happy trail blanketed by loose pajama pants. You paused suddenly when your foot hit hers.

"You sleep with socks on?" You demanded in a whisper, leaning into her face.

For a moment, a confused quirk of Amanda's brow appeared, eyes still closed, but then melted into an amused one. Your hands met the collar of her sweater.

"Yes or no, be honest," Her slow silent laughter grew underneath you, building in her ribs. She hesitantly shook her head no with a pursed smile, making you jump up and swim amongst the ocean of fabrics that swaddled both of you. You pointed hard at her ankles, exposing mismatched black socks. You straddled her, arm extended back in an accusatory stance, eyes glaring down at the other. Amanda's quiet whispers of chuckles now grew to be an audible laugh, throwing you off slightly. It was rare to hear her express such things, and a suprised smile pushed at the corners of your lips. The odd domestic comfortability was something you had both taken fair time to adjust to, yet being able to see and hear truly how content Amanda was in this moment, was a rarity unlike any other. Her hands slid over your thighs, fingertips passing the hem of your shorts with a tilted grin.

"You're gonna judge me for sleeping with socks on?"

"Not judging."

"I can see you judging," Amanda demanded with another drawn out laugh, exhaling from her nostrils as her hands slid up more. Her fingers now teased the legs of your underwear, thumb gently hooking into one of them to keep you positioned on top of her; In truth, she couldn't get enough of this angle.

"You - Uh, know I do it with the best ... Intentions," Your voice faltered as her cold invasive hands became more apparent on your feverent skin. She had to be doing this on purpose, or atleast be aware of the effect her rougher touch had on you - The slightly smug expression she had gave it away.

"Am I making you nervous?" Amanda didn't miss a beat to respond to your hushed voice, her half lidded eyes barreling into yours with a nearly challenging glint.

"Would it be bad to admit that you are?"

This sparked more laughter from the woman, shaking her head as her colder hands slid over your warm legs.

"No, no... I like knowing how flustered I can make you,"

#bowies fics #amanda young #saw #amanda young x you #amanda young x oc #amanda young x reader #amanda saw #saw amanda #amanda young x female reader #saw franchise #amanda young fluff

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