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telekineticseance · 10 months

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i humbly request dad’s best friend! trey please.

FAMILY FRIEND

pairing: trey parker x f! reader

summary: your dad's friend Trey is going through a tough time and needs a week away from LA - part one

genre: fluff..small smut

word count: 1345

cw: age gap relationship (25f, 48m), fingering (f!masturbating which i hate that word so much usually just say jerking off), reader is referred to by she/her pronouns

author's note: based more in 2018 right after trey's breakup but right before the divorced was final ya know? but yeah this ended up becoming a series it's gonna be smaller than circumstances though only a few chapters but here's the first part!

A hum escaped your lips as Trey left a trail of kisses down your body, his hands running down during the process. You arched your back against his lips once he reached your lower stomach. You let out a gasp when his grip tightened on your thigh before you opened your eyes.

When you opened your eyes, you felt your stomach sink to in fact no Trey but an empty room, just you alone in your bed. A hand ran through your hair at the thought of your dream with Trey. It had been a week since your dad told you his friend would be staying for a couple days to get away. He was going through a hard time after his divorce and needed to get away and since you and your dad lived in Colorado, he opened the guest room for him.

Although you hardly knew Trey, you grew up with him occasionally coming over when he’d come visit. Your dad went to college with Matt and Trey, even being in Cannibal! The Musical but when your dad decided to stay in Denver while the rest of the group left, Trey was the one who stayed in touch the most. And unfortunately for you, you’ve had a crush on him since the day you met him. Which also led to you having “dreams” about him ever since your dad told you he would be staying.

You pulled the blanket off your body before climbing out of bed, “Don’t know why he can’t stay someplace else.” You mumbled under your breath as you grabbed a few clothes from your dresser and walked to the bathroom. After turning on the shower you took off your clothes, placing them in the hamper before climbing into the shower.

As you let the water run down your body you replayed the dream in your head, closing your eyes, leaning against the wall of the shower. The thought of his lips on your skin just replayed over and over again, sending a chill down your spine. Your fingers ran down your torso lightly, passing just below your navel. You imagined your hand as Trey’s as you moved lower with each millisecond before arriving at your heated slit.

You slipped a finger in between your folds and started thrusting it slowly, the thought of Trey still resting in your mind as you did so. You curled your fingers once they were deep enough and you let out a small gasp in the process. The imagination of Trey’s fingers inside you, filling that small craving you had for him as you continued pumping your own fingers. You bit your bottom lip to suppress the moan from escaping your mouth as you thrust your fingers faster, and as deep as they could go.

You felt your stomach tighten and your walls flex around your fingers as you curled your fingers one last time as you reached your peak, letting out one final deep breath. You pulled out your fingers and looked at the mess on them in disgust, not believing you just did that, but imagining it was Trey instead, as the water washed away the fluid.

The sound of a knock at the door caused you to jump, knocking over a bottle of shampoo in the process, “Hey Y/N, I’m going to the airport to pick up Trey.” Your dad’s voice rang through the other side of the door. You took a deep breath before nodding, “Okay. Uh, stay safe.”

You heard the footsteps retreat before you continued with your shower, trying to get your mind off of Trey even though you had approximately an hour before Trey would be arriving at your place with your dad. The thought made you nervous when it shouldn’t but the last time you saw Trey was almost 10 years ago when you were still in high school so even then you hardly saw him because you were busy with band trips and study groups.

You let the water run over your head as you continued to lean against the wall, before grabbing the razor and continuing on with your shower.

When you finished with your shower you climbed out, wrapping a towel around your body as you dried off a little before tip-toeing out of the bathroom and into your room. You took a deep breath, sitting down at your vanity while running a brush through your hair. As you ran your fingers and the brush through your hair, you hummed a random song to keep your mind off of the upcoming week.

The sound of the front door opening, caused you to turn your gaze from the mirror, to your bedroom door. “Oh yeah she’s probably in her room.” Your dad’s voice rang through the house before you heard Trey’s voice speak shortly after, not able to make out the words.

The sound of his voice caused a shiver to run through your body, and goosebumps to appear. You quickly rose from your vanity and slipped on some clothes you had laid out before slowly opening the bedroom door, letting Trey’s voice get louder as it echoed down the hall.

You slipped out the door, shutting it behind as you walked down the hall, nervously rubbing on your arm in the process. When you appeared in the living room, Trey noticed you before your dad and you thought your knees would give out from the sight of him. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a while as bags rested under his eyes, and he had lost a little more hair on the top of his head since you last saw him. His beard was also graying but he managed to make it look attractive.

He gave you a small smile as his blue eyes shined, before your dad turned and saw you. Your dad motioned for you to come over and you walked more in the living room as Trey eyed you, his eyes scanning your figure before he quickly returned his gaze back to yours. He stood up as you walked over, embracing you in a hug.

You stood frozen, his strong arms around you as his face was almost buried into your neck. You slowly wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his scent, in the least creepy possible way. He smelled like an expensive cologne that you definitely didn’t know the name of but you loved the scent of it anyways. He pulled away, keeping his arms around you as he looked down, giving you that same toothy grin. “You’ve gotten older.” He chuckled slightly.

You gave him a nod, “Y-Yeah I’m a senior in college now. I’m 25 after all.” You responded as his eyes widened while he pulled away before taking his spot next to your dad, removing his gaze from yours before turning to your dad, “25? Wow.”

You nodded once more, taking a seat in a chair across the living room before your dad started talking, “Yep. My little girl is all grown up. Didn’t want her to spend money on a fancy dorm though so she’s staying here until she moves out. I’m gone for business trips all the time so it’s almost like she’s already living on her own.” He said while grinning at you.

You returned the grin to your dad, “Speaking of, if it’s alright with you two I got a call from the boss while on the way to the airport and I need to go to San Antonio, Texas for a couple of days. I won’t be gone the whole week, but I’ll leave in the morning and be back on Wednesday.” He told you two.

Unable to control it, your face dropped, before you noticed and straightened your posture and forced a smile to your face, “Uh yeah sure. I’m sure me and Trey can handle being on our own for a couple days.”

Your dad gave you both a nod, “Great. Now how about we order a pizza and catch up?”

“Sounds great dad…”

#this was supposed to be just smut but i didn't know how to do it without it being poorly paced so yeah so sorry #trey parker #trey parker x reader

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theamberfist · 19 hours

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Leave it All on the Dance Floor! Part 2 | Alastor x Overlord! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord.

Description: After having his coat ripped, Alastor enlists the help of his best friend and tailor.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cannibalism) (Part 2 of Leave it All on the Dance Floor!)

Words: 2508

Read Part 1 here.

"That new fabric order you wanted just got in, boss!" Joan chirped as she entered your work room; a clipboard in hand. Hearing that made you smile and you looked up from where you'd been drawing out concepts for some new clothes.

"Wonderful!" You exclaimed, "I know you know where to store it for now. I'll get to work on adding that to the new line later." Joan nodded as she crossed the item off her well-organized list. "And how are the newbies doing down there?" You asked, referring to the recently-hired demons currently being trained to work the boutique while you focused on designing.

You'd hoped they wouldn't end up causing much trouble when you took them in; needing the extra employees, but Joan's expression immediately made you lower your hopes.

"They're...Working on it." She replied finally, "But don't worry; I've been dealing with all the customer complaints the way you told me to. We'll get those sinners up to par soon enough, and then you'll be back to having the most well-run boutique in hell!"

At that, you sighed. You were just glad to have Joan to deal with them so you wouldn't have to; after all, you'd been very busy lately.

"Are you still designing the new line?" the feline asked with a hint of concern in her voice. You'd been working on it for the last week almost nonstop, and you knew she was probably a little worried about you. Still, she knew better than to comment about it openly.

"Yes," you replied, setting the drawings on your desk now, "But I should have some solid concepts soon." Joan was still frowning but you ignored her worry as you leaned back in your chair and stretched. You'd been at this all day so you had to admit; it might be a good time to take a short break.

"I'm sure these new designs will be even more lovely than your last ones," you assistant finally spoke as she took another step forward, "But...Uh, there's one other item that could use your attention right now." At that, you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? What is it?" You asked. Based on her nervous expression, you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer.

She drew in a breath before glancing back down at her clipboard. "We have a client here who requires repairs on some of their clothes."

"I thought I said I wasn't going to be taking any clients this week?" You replied now, crossing your arms, "Can't one of the apprentices handle it?"

"The client has insisted only your expertise will do," Joan told you, "And frankly, I don't think it's quite my place to refuse." She had a look of fear on her face at that that piqued your interest even more. Who could this client be to have scared even your own assistant so badly? You had a few ideas, and if they turned out to be true, then you almost wanted to smile in delight.

"Alright," you pretended to sigh now, knowing what was up, "Send them in and I'll handle it." Joan nodded quickly before heading over to the door of your workshop, which she opened to reveal a very familiar sinner standing on the other side with a huge smile on his face.

"Why, thank you, my dear!" Alastor told Joan as he took a step into the room. She nodded quickly before leaving and closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, you grinned and stood from your desk.

"Al, what brings you back here already?" You asked, though you couldn't have been more glad to see your best friend back in the Swing Sector visiting you, "Miss me already?" The Radio Demon's smile widened at that and he came over to pull you into a hug.

"Lovely to see you too, my friend!" He exclaimed as you chuckled. "I'm afraid I've come to request your assistance mending some of my clothing, if it's not too much trouble!" You let go of your friend now, raising an eyebrow at his words.

"Of course it's no trouble, but...Surely it's not these clothes you need repaired, right...?" You asked, a dark shadow beginning to form across your face, "After all, I just made this suit for you a couple of weeks ago." Your tone was calm but extremely threatening and despite being the Radio Demon himself, Alastor had to fight the urge to step back. When it came to the clothes you created, you could always be a little...murderous. He almost didn't want to continue with the look in your eye, but nevertheless, he did so.

"Unfortunately, it is," he replied carefully and with a solemn nod of his head. When he saw your expression darken even further though, he quickly continued. "But I assure you, dear, I did everything in my power to avoid letting any harm come to these clothes! This is the result of an...Unfortunate turn of events."

"Who did it?" You asked in a tone so unlike you that it would have made anyone living in your sector shake with fear.

"Alas, I do not remember his name; the forgettable sort." Alastor replied, glad to have shifted the blame off of himself now, "But I assure you, I plan to make him pay for his transgressions." His own expression became scarier now as his eyes began to shift into radio dials and glow red; even more so than normal.

"Give Joan a description of this demon on the way out," you ordered, "I'd also like to have a go at anyone who thinks they can damage my designs and get away with it." Alastor nodded at that, even if only to calm your rising anger.

"Now," you said, taking a deep breath in order to pull yourself from your murderous rage, "Show me the damage." You turned back to grab a tape measure and some sewing pins as Alastor held up the end of his coat, which had been clearly been ripped. Of course, it always gave that appearance, but in this case, the tears weren't how you'd designed them, and therefore, gave a rattier appearance.

You felt your anger nearly flare up again at the sight but calmed yourself as you nodded and then got to work measuring and pinning wherever necessary.

"Good thing I always keep your fabric on-hand," you spoke while holding one of the sewing pins between your teeth, "Otherwise, you'd have had to wait a few weeks for it to get in, and we certainly couldn't have you walking around like this for so long." The Radio Demon nodded, assuming the pose you always had him hold as he let you work.

You'd been his personal tailer ever since the two of you became friends shortly after your own arrival in hell. Before them, he'd had some random sinner off the street make all of his clothes, and as you'd told him the night you ran into each other at that party, it had showed. Luckily, he now had a best friend who was always willing to ensure he was well-dressed; making him a top priority whenever he came in.

For a few minutes, you pinned the fabric in silence as he took in the sights of your workroom. It hadn't changed much in the years since he'd last visited; a realization that was somehow heartwarming.

It was as messy as ever; with various designs lining the walls, fabric strewn about, and several trunks of other sewing supplies pushed up against the tall windows. Your desk was even worse with pins and needles all over it that had been entangled in string, and Alastor knew if he were to ever bring someone like Nifty here, she would have had a field day.

Also resting on your desk, though, were several framed photos. There was one picturing you and Rosie, probably taken sometime after the Radio Demon's disappearance, along with several photos of your various owned souls that had been taken at the parties you hosted. Alastor's smile widened, though, when he noticed several old photos of you and him rested among the rest. Even after all this time, they were well-taken-care-of and free from dust or dirt. The sight was very sweet.

"Did I overhear that you were working on a new line?" He finally asked, breaking the silence as you threaded some red string through a needle like it was nothing.

"Of course," you told him with a grin before kneeling to hand-sew the new fabric of his coat to the ripped area. "I have to stay up to date, don't I? And plus, runway season is coming up."

"Well, then I hope to be in attendance at many of your upcoming fashion shows." Alastor told you and you nodded as you started stitching.

"You'll be the first one invited, of course," you said with a playful eye roll, "Who better than my best friend to witness as I crush Velvette; fashionably?" This made the other overlord's smile widen even more.

"I have no doubt in your creative mind," he replied, "In fact, I daresay her own designs are nowhere near your level, so where's the competition in the first place?" He gave a loud laugh at that and you shook your head with a smile.

"Thanks, Alastor," You said as took out another sewing pin; not needing it anymore, "But it turns out there might actually be some competition this season. The Overlord Gala is being held a month earlier due to the next extermination being moved up- will you be attending, by the way?" You glance dup at your deer-like friend, who immediately nodded.

"But of course! I wouldn't miss such an entertaining event for the world," he replied, placing a hand where his heart should have been, "And I suppose I'll have to be requesting your services for my clothing then, as well." You nodded, turning back to your work.

"Well, anyway," you continued, "The gala is supposed to be competitive as far as fashion this year, and I intend to have the best designs by a landslide. But that all starts with the line I'll be releasing shortly beforehand, so it has to be perfect."

"Of course," Alastor nodded knowingly, "Do let me know if there is anything I can do to assist! Any endeavor that involves putting those arrogant V's in their place is worth supporting. Though, I hardly think you'll require my help schooling Velvette on the runway." You chuckled at that, finally finishing sewing Alastor's coat and tying it off.

"Thanks, Al." You told him now as you stood and brushed yourself off, "I always appreciate your support. And...Your coat is done!" You stepped away now, letting him inspect your work as you began putting away the rest of your materials. The Radio Demon took a second to look it over before his smile widened (somehow), seeming satisfied.

"Perfect as usual, my dear!" He told you as he gave a brief spin for emphasis. "Thank you kindly!"

"Anytime." You replied once you'd put everything away, "Oh, and by the way, are you planning to attend that meeting next week? The one Carmilla sent information about?" A part of you was a little nervous he hadn't been invited for a second, considering the other overlord had never been particularly fond of Alastor, but then his eyes shone with recognition.

"Yes, indeed!" He told you as the two of you started heading out of your workshop now, "Am I correct to assume you'll be there as well?" You nodded and his smile brightened, "Splendid! Then I shall see you at the meeting!"

"Sounds good," you replied, "But before then, make sure you let Rosie know you're back! If you show up to the meeting with no warning she might bite you." You shivered, remembering the last time Alastor had done something to make the kind cannibal overlord angry. You hadn't had bandages on-hand at the time and had had to use whatever fabric you could find just to wrap his wound.

"Of course, of course!" Alastor waved a hand dismissively, which told you he most likely would not be telling Rosie in advance. He always had liked to keep everyone guessing, hadn't he? "Now, I would love to stay longer, but I must be on my way, darling!" He headed over to the counter of your boutique, where one of your newer recruits immediately shrunk away in fear. "And I'd better let you get back to work if you're to show everyone up at the gala!"

You grinned and made your way over to the register, but instead of punching in any amount, you simply leaned your elbows onto it with a smile. "Al, you know I wouldn't make you pay for a simple repair like this," you told him, "if anything, the one paying will be whichever demon ripped your coat in the first place." You were still smiling but your voice got significantly more sinister and your eyes darkened as you spoke the last sentence. The rest of the shop's employees cowered but Alastor just laughed.

"A true gentleman pays his friend for their services, dear." He reminded you but as he spoke, his gaze shifted to the street outside, where a TV in the store across the street happened to be running Vox's broadcast. His smile didn't drop but you could instantly see the shift in his eyes from joy to annoyance at the sight.

And you could understand why. It seemed Vox had caught wind of the fact that the Radio Demon was back, because he was going on and on about Alastor's return and what it meant for the future of hell. You supposed that obsession of his still hadn't died out.

"On second thought, it seems I'll have to be on my way." Alastor practically spat before turning back to you with a joyful expression again, "But do let me know when you're next free, and I'll be sure to treat you to lunch as thanks for your kindness this fine day." You gave him a look so he added, "with vegetarian options, of course." Your grin widened.

Even though you were best friends with both Rosie and Alastor, two of hell's most well-known cannibal demons, you had no interest in partaking in said acts yourself and he could respect that.

"Alright." You said finally as Alastor adjusted his bow tie once more and then turned towards the door. "Nice to see you again!"

"Bye now, dear!" He called back, "Oh, and if you've got the time, consider tuning in to my next broadcast! It's sure to be quite...Entertaining." With that, he was out the door and you shook your head, still smiling. He was no doubt going to clap back at Vox by going on-air for the first time in years, and of course, you weren't about to miss that for anything.

"Joan!" You called, heading back up the stairs to your workshop now, "Would you bring the radio up? I have a feeling this afternoon's work is going to get much more entertaining!"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #platonic relationships #platonic x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor best friend reader #alastor #alastor x best friend reader #alastor x friend reader #platonic alastor x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #fanfic

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ego-osbourne · 10 months

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Iren (CW: Blood, Cannibalism)

//click for better image quality//

Was going though some of my WIPs and pulling out individual doodles from sheets that wouldn’t be touched again, just so these drawings don’t get left to collect dust. I’ll separate my finds into a few posts. Firstly, though:

Meet Iren! I’ve mentioned him a few times before in regards to Rakell. He was Rakell’s old husband, and they met on some uh.. less-than-convention means, lets say.

Warning: Things ahead tread heavily into NSFW territory. Content warning for talk and show of violence and cannibalism.

Rakell was drafted into the Oblivion Crisis to act as a foot soldier / cannon fodder during the attack. He was very disenchanted with the whole idea, bored of his position and tasks, and quickly found himself distracted very early into his service. He was deployed with a few other dremora to attack a small town in Cyrodiil, and he ended up giving chase to a fleeing bosmer. What he thought would be an easy attack would eventually turn into a month-long chase as the wood elf outran and outsmarted him time and time again. Rakell was thrilled to finally have something intriguing and challenging to do, and he gave into the chase, far from angry about the bosmer even leaving hints and taunting him as he followed his trail.

Eventually, the chase came to an end after the elf got into an accident that injured his leg, making him much slower and much easier to catch up with. Instead of killing him, though, Rakell assisted in healing his leg and got to know the bosmer. His name was Iren, an old elf without a family, having lived much of his life traveling and escaping trouble just like he’d done with Rakell. He settled in Cyrodiil once his age started to make his traveling life difficult, until the Oblivion attack. Iren was extremely calm and easy-going, living serenely and happily even as he was being hunted, and Rakell found it charming. Not wanting to return to his duties, and not wanting the hunt to end, Rakell helped patch up Iren’s leg completely and gave him a head start on a new hunt.

Rakell and Iren would continuously do this, finding each other again and spending longer and longer days with each other, eventually forming a romantic bond and agreeing not to kill each other. However, things weren’t bloodless. Iren always seemed to get into trouble because of his cannibalistic habits, and invited Rakell to participate with him. The dremora did just that, and the two of them lived out nearly two decades together, marrying in a small shack they built together, in the privacy of the woods where they hunted animals and the unlucky bandits that passed by them.

They would also, of course, perform their acts on each other. Iren had a wish that he wouldn’t die of old age, but rather in a glorious exchange of gore, and he asked Rakell to carry out that wish. One night, Rakell fulfilled that promise, and killed Iren in one last act of “love,” but regretted his actions nearly immediately upon the elf’s death. He made a grave for him by the shack they used to live in and visits it occasionally.

Iren was Rakell’s first and only love at that point, and continuing on he had trouble distinguishing love from hunger because of it. Rakell kept the ring and kept partaking in cannibalistic habits as a twisted symbol of gratitude and remembrance to his late husband.

#Rakell #Iren #tes #tesblr #tes art #dremora #daedra #bosmer #tdi #the dez illusion #my art #Rakell x Iren #cw cannibalism #cw blood

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oodlyenough · 1 year

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last of us 1x08

I had fucked up dreams last night after watching this episode lmfao

Obviously this will talk about the content of the ep so general cw for attempted child sexual assault and uh cannibalism I guess

Overall, probably one of the best this season. Very faithfully adapted from the game, which is a neutral point, but I was impressed that for all I knew what was going to happen basically beat by beat I was still on edge.

Not sure if this is #unpopular or not but I found David MUCH creepier here (from a starting place of "very creepy already" in the game), and I also found his characterization overall to be better. I've never really been sure if in the game you're meant to ever trust him, but I never did, partly because Nolan North plays him with the slimiest voice imaginable, so him turning out to be a creep is kind of a no-shit moment.

Whereas I thought this David was much better at putting up a front, which in turn made him all the more terrifying. It was way too easy to imagine this David pre-apocalypse, teaching (UGHHH), ingratiating himself in the community, getting away with all of it because these kinds of men so often do. The slide "from teacher to preacher" god like of COURSE this mf would find a different way to gain power, control and access over people including/especially children... Ugh it was all 2 Real and that much more creepy.

I also though the way they dealt with the cannibalism was very good honestly. It would've been easy to purely justify it with "people are starving, and we're eating the dead" -- which is kind of what David says, but you can use the context clues to deduce that it's not just that they're eating their dead out of desperation, but that they are actively hunting people for food, he's keeping it a secret, it's, imo, clearly part of his sick power-tripping rather than necessity (as others pointed out, relatively inexperienced Ellie finds game very quickly and easily in one hunting trip lol).

I also thought the slight tension between David and James was interesting here -- obviously James is also a freak, lol, but their disagreement over how to handle Ellie and the general rift between them, as the episode goes on I think you do get the sense that even James is uncomfortable with this side of David and tried roundabout ways to talk him out of going after her or just about shot her in the head. (I keep wanting to joke that James is like "I can excuse cannibalism, but..." but frankly 1. one of these things IS worse than the other and also 2. in the end he still enables everything David does anyway! Bc of course he does. Isn't that how it always goes.)

This was definitely the big showcase for Ellie and for Bella Ramsey. (Watching people whine and cry about it, "two episodes of mostly Ellie wahhhhh" lmaooo shes the main character of the franchise losers, deal with it.) Ramsey was very good. Everyone's saying it but yes the primal screaming in that restaurant scene, ugh, chilling and excellent.

I did find the very first scene between Ellie, James and David had me wincing, like Ellie's tough guy voice was just so bad and felt like a kid play-acting ... but then I suppose that was probably the exact intent, that Ellie was trying to be threatening but wasn't capable of actually BEING threatening in that moment. There's a huge difference between that fake bravado and her (entirely justified) rage and violence later in the episode.

Joel was very Joel in this. I don't have much to say about him lol, it was nice to see Pedro's Joel go a bit unhinged, something we've heard tell of in various episodes but only seen scraps of before. "It's all right, I believe him" is such a memorable bit of the game and it just as chilling here.

Ok time for some criticisms:

They leaned HARD into the pedophile angle for David here. That was always in the game, but it was fairly subtextual, with more emphasis on the cannibalism. Here it was the reverse. Although disturbing, I generally didn't mind -- but I did feel the final scene, and specifically his dialogue in it, about "liking the fight" was just too Ick for me. Very HBO. I felt we didn't need it to know what he was going to do. (Then again audiences do miss the obvious all the time...)

I didn't really miss the infected fight in this episode. I saw people say that you need it to build a false sense of trust between David and Ellie but like... lmao idk I never trusted that guy for a single second. BUT I will say I *do* wish we saw more infected in the series overall. I know it's not about the zombies~ but they are still, uh, the reason all of this is going on, fundamentally. They're what makes rebuilding a functioning large-scale society near impossible, because it falters so easily with a simple misstep leading to infection and outbreak.

The ending felt a bit rushed. The Joel-Ellie reunion didn't hit me as hard as I wanted, although it seems to have resonated with the show fans. It's not an issue (for me) of him pulling her off David, or not -- I like the way it played out -- it's just... I dunno. Something about the way it ended on the two of them wandering off together, maybe? Maybe I liked the game's cut to black with her sobbing in his arms more?

I also felt that because they spent more time with David's community, there was a real glaring absence of them in the climax. These people have been under David's thumb for who knows how long, presumably with James + co as his enforcers. Now they're free but directionless. What comes next? Obviously, the show can't explore all of that, but questions like "why hasn't anyone tried to stop Joel in town" "why didn't anyone notice the fire" "where are other guards" etc... I think we could've used another scene with Hannah and her mom (who totally looks just like Mel from TLOU2, lmao).

AND the biggest one of all...

Feeling pretty :/ about the "violent heart" speech to Ellie. From David's POV, it makes total sense for him to say those things. He's trying to manipulate and groom her. I completely buy the dialogue, from him.

But I was left wondering if I the viewer was meant to agree, concluded that I am probably supposed to agree, and also that I ... don't. This has been a recurring criticism from me of the show's portrayal of Ellie. I've mostly tried to make my peace with it by acknowledging Show Ellie and Game Ellie are different characters evolving slightly differently and living slightly different lives yadda yadda... But I dunno. I guess I won't be able to say how I feel about it until I see s2 and s3 anyway lmao.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #god this post is long af

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klwl-truck · 2 years

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Shiratorizawa as Demons from DemonSlayer (part 1)

This will have multiple parts because it is SO LONG HOLY SHIT. Uh- minor CW for general talk of death/gore/cannibalism etc, as well as some neglect and child abuse/trauma (this will likely apply for all the parts of this). Anyways- let's get on with it!

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

Okay so- if Ushijima was a demon he would be TERRIFYING

He reminds me a lot of Kokushibo for some reason??

But anyways- he became a demon in the pursuit of power. He had been a powerful swordsman in the late sengoku period (he was not a demon slayer at the time).

During one of his training sessions he encountered Muzan, who told him that he could become even more powerful if he let Muzan help him.

Ushijima refused vehemently at first, but after losing several matches against another swordsman, he reluctantly agreed to let Muzan help him.

Let me be clear, he did not know that he was signing up to be a demon. He just thought that some sword master was letting him come over to train and drink wine with him.

Said wine had Muzan's blood in it (yeesh that's gross-)

Now that he's become a demon, let's talk Blood Demon Arts!

Ushijima's blood demon art is meant to create large and devastating blows (much like stone breathing or an earthquake).

He incorporates some of his sword styles (again not breathing styles) into his attacks. He uses his sword as a finishing blow, so it is usually at his side.

His blood demon art can manifest large predatory birds, which rip their victims to shreds (via their steel-like tallons or beaks). He prefers to manifest eagles, but he will choose other birds if needed.

The combination of all of these has rightfully earned him the title of Uppermoon 2.

His presence alone has killed several, and he refuses to eat humans that he has not fought himself.

He hates weakness above all else, and he also refuses to fight demon slayers that are below the Kinoto rank (he literally just asks them their ranking- like in the middle of battle lmao).

He prefers to keep to himself, and he stays in his room in the infinity castle training most of the time (when he isn't told to go on missions to fight demon slayers).

Some of the other Uppermoons will come and visit him (*cough* Tendou *cough*). He favors Tendou over the others, and he's not sorry about it.

I just realized- I never told y'all what he looked like!

After becoming a demon, not much changed. However, he did become A LOT taller. He stands at a whopping 8 feet tall now (which is roughly 2.44 meters tall)!

His hair is practically the same, save for the color being about two shades darker.

His eyes hold the engraving for Uppermoon 2, and the sclera of his eyes are a dark – almost black – shade of red.

The iris of his eyes are the same light green-gold as they are cannonically.

He wears traditional swordsman clothing typical of the sengoku period, with a beautiful combination of dark purples, rusts, and golds sewn together to create a mosaic of dragons, eagles, and tigers.

He holds his sword on his right side, but he rarely actually uses it.

All in all, he's a very beautiful, yet intimidating Uppermoon demon.

Sadly enough, after a long battle against two hashiras, he is beheaded.

They do end up keeping his robes though. (what? they're pretty asf)

Tendou Satori:

This man would also be scary as FUCK as a demon

His life as human had been pretty sad before (but that's not entirely why he became a demon, you'll see why soon).

He was born into a relatively poor family as an only child.

His parents held little to no care for him, so he spent his time at home alone most of the time. They didn't bother with most things that cost money, so he got no schooling (they used the money for themselves).

Because of this parental neglect (and the poor area that he lived in) he was filthy most of the time. He had to cut his own hair, make his own meals, and do most self-care for himself since his was around five years old.

Also as a result of this neglect and his lack of proper hygiene, other better-off children would make fun of him (my baby :()

It wasn't just verbal beat-downs, but physical beat-downs as well. He would come home covered in bruises, and sometimes even broken bones. And he usually had to care for his wounds himself.

Fast-forward a couple years, and he runs away from home. He hitch-hikes, becomes a stowaway a couple times, y'know the usual runaway stuff.

He finds himself at the "Bringers of Red Trails" cult (he has no idea that it's a cult at first, but he is suspicious).

He spends a couple years there, rises up the ranks with his humor and charm~

And at this point he's around 20 years old (this is about 50 years before the actual DS timeline, so he's a younger demon than Ushijima), and he's now the "right-hand man" to the cult-leader.

One thing led to another, and he decides to kill the old cult-leader and he takes his place.

So now he's the cult-leader, and he is BORED. wtf is he doing?? he just sits still all day on his little throne.

But he wants something EXCITING, he wants CHAOS

So he asks around, and he overhears some of the other people there talking about some demon guy named "Muzan Kibutsuji" (it's a cult of course they know SOMETHING about the demon king living next door)

At this point he's very interested, and he finds Muzan.

Muzan doesn't even need to coerce him or anything, Tendou's just like "gimme ur blood, I'm really fucking bored around here man"

Muzan’s just like, ”aight kid, whatever you want ig 🤷‍♂️“

Also, after he becomes a demon, he does not give a SHIT about Muzan. Sure, he follows his orders, but he doesn't worship the ground he walks on.

In some ways he hates him.

Let's talk Blood Demon Arts again >:)

His blood demon art is called "Ruby Gates" (ik Ushi doesn't have a name for his, I couldn't think of anything lmao, but y'all can tell me ur recs if you want!)

This art allows him to create Ruby sculptures of anything he wants, with two objects being the most common.

The first being the reason for his name-sake, and also his choice method of defense, he can create large Ruby hedges/pillars that he either uses to crush or block Demon Slayers.

The second being his own "Ruby Soldiers", most of them hold a striking resemblance to Ushijima... huh. They come in various sizes, some even as large as 12 feet tall.

He enjoys toying with Demon Slayers when fighting them. He’ll take their swords, dance with them, crack jokes, make fun of them, etc

He adores the chaos being a demon creates, and in most of his fights you will see him laughing and smiling the entire time.

He has INCREDIBLE intuition, and in most fights Demon Slayers can't even get within 14 feet of him. It's almost like he sees them coming before they even get there.

He hates all things boring and uneventful. His least favorite breathing style is water breathing, he thinks most water breath users have boring personalities

He's very similar to Douma in the sense that he wants to be friends with all the other Uppermoons (Tendou is ranked as Uppermoon 4). He's not very well liked by some of the other Uppermoons.

He prefers to cook the people he eats (that is such a weird thing to say wtf-), and he turns them into rather lavish meals for himself. He will offer them to Ushijima, despite him generally refusing.

Unlike many demons, he quite enjoys the smell of human food. He will eat it for his enjoyment.

Let's move on to what he looked like again, woo hoo!

Tendou is also very tall, and he stands at nearly the same height as Ushijima. Although he is only 7'11" (which is roughly 2.42 meters tall).

His hair is closely cropped to his head, like in the time-skip. And it is the same firetruck red as it always is.

His ears are pointed, and he had two large black horns protruding out of the sides of his head (they kinda look like bull horns??)

The skin on the tips of his ears, hands, and feet are tinted black and they gradually blend into his natural skin-tone. The sides of his face also are tinted black (think raccoon)

Speaking of skin-tone- mans is PALE. Like he was pale before but he's almost white as a sheet now.

He also has a long and thin tail, it's not really used for anything. It just is there to look cool.

His eyes hold the engraving for uppermoon 4. They're a significantly more vibrant red than when he was human, with small flecks of gold.

He LOVES jewelry (idk he just seemed like that kinda guy).

Everything is ruby or ruby encrusted. Ruby bracelets? check. Ruby encrusted/Ruby rings? check. RUBY EARRINGS?? check, check, and check.

He painted his nails a deep maroon color, and sharpened them to a point. He figured that, "hey, I'm already gonna kill people- why not make it look cool?"

He wears rather expensive clothing, except it's more like luxurious lounge wear.

All his clothing, accessories, etc are very colorful and vibrant (fitting for his chaotic lifestyle as a demon).

He smokes, so he uses one of those old-timey pipes (visual aid)

Anyways- he lasts a long while but he is ultimately killed by the water pillar using the fifth breathing form, blessed rain after the drought. This form is only used when a demon surrenders/bares their neck, so you can get what happens :(

– ❤︎︎ –

Whew, okay we're done! Hope you enjoyed what I thought of, ik it's a lot lmao. I hope to do more when I can think of stuff for (most) of the other team members!

(P.S. these posts will be under the tag "ShiratorizawaDSAU")

#ShiratorizawaDSAU #ushijima headcanons #ushijima hcs #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu!!#tendou headcanons #tendou hcs #tendou #tendou satori #ushiten #shiratorizawa

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crashed-keys · 2 years

Note

so if I were to get into smt which game should I start with

UHHHH well. help. i think. most people do start with newsona so like. p4g is on steam now if you can stomach the pervasive bigotry (which is rich considering the entire theme but whatever). p5r is also coming out as is p3p but like. it’s generally agreed to not be the definitive version unlike p5r so if you have access to the ps2/3(?) or an emulator p3fes is probably the recommended version. in addition to the bigotry there’s sexualization of some of the female characters which is really fucking annoying but also general anime bullshit so like. kind of a “smile and wave” thing (i’ve criticized this frequently but yk)

i think the persona 2 games are also a good starting point (i’m biased) but those are pretty dated and also very. heavy please check cws (you fight hitler as a boss and nazis as enemies in the first one, is the major one i can think of. also child abuse/neglect) so if you’re fine with more traditional jrpg type stuff please check ‘em out

digital devil saga is from what i hear persona fans’ gateway into the general megaten series but also has its share of triggering content and themes (cannibalism is literally unavoidable as pretty much a major part of the world and plot, plus one bit of sexual assault and i might also be forgetting some stuff) so like. please do tread with caution into the megami tensei series generally. i do think the dds games are really good but like. they definitely have their issues that can’t be brushed aside if i want to actually talk abt them

finally: for mainline i think most people say smt iv but my first “real shin megami tensei game” was nocturne. it’s really good but like. super heavily focused on atmosphere over actual characterization (the characters pretty much are just used as representatives of their ideas rather than being actual characters) so if you’re not into that kinda thing then you prob won’t enjoy nocturne. demifiend is REALLY cool though

ANYWAYS thanks for asking abt this actually i was not expecting ppl to take my pitch seriously but uh yeah! i’m basing my opinions on the games i’ve personally played (obviously) so if anyone wants to pitch in any other beginner-friendly games please feel free to add on

#asks #anon #adri.txt

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mumblztumblz · 11 months

Text

WELCOME TO THE COGNATE: A BTD/SLA INDUSTRIES CROSSOVER FIC

CW/TW:Implied Castration, Surgery (Without Anesthetic), Cannibalism, Molestation, Gore, Forced Nudity

Tobby/Rory belongs to @6robotmonster6 , SLA!Ren artwork by https://twitter.com/ratopomboart

He pressed nervously on the doorbell to the Cognate’s HQ, a short brand jingle playing every time.

The whom that greeted him was a masked figure, their facial covering concealing almost all of their face except for it’s left side, where from a squinting, burn-marked blue eye looked down at him. The Slash armor they wore was nigh-uniform like the rest of the Cognate’s, as part of them differentiating themselves from most other cognates both on the small screen and organizationally.

“I-I’m here to see Fox!” He said, the masked figure responding with barely stifled laughter at the bob-cutted trans-man’s loadout. Generic kitchen knife, CAF vest and a cheap Uni store DAF mask.

But rather than turning him away, they simply stood aside and subvocally radio’d to the rest of the Cognate with their headset while motioning to him with their right hand.

“Yes! Thank you!” The human cheerfully told the figure before stepping in and being greeted by a surprisingly clean and well-arranged.

“The Fox will be here for you shortly. Have a seat…” The figure stated before closing the door, locking it and returning to a guarding position.

The lounge looked more like a museum of the Fox Den Cognates accomplishment than a typical hideout, framed trophies, whether armor pieces, weapons or embalmed body parts were preserved in front and behind him in bulletproof glass, notably among them but certainly not least a severed penis that was fourteen inches flaccid, likely Shaktarian in origin if his Alien Sex Channel knowledge served him.

Pulling further on his knowledge of both circuit and cognate. It belonged to one “Terror-Tracker.”, a Shaktar Contract Killer known for solely taking on and defeating some of the most monstrous, sadistic opponents…before Fox and his crew completely emasculated him figuratively and literally in a two-hour-long torture party special that he rewatched and jilled off to so many times the vid-slug wore out and he had to find recordings from others.

To see the highlight from that show embalmed, encased and in person was nothing short of a high honor to him.

Minutes passed as he recalled every detail and recording of every one of the framed items to absolute perfection, only for time to come…

Those dramatically exaggerated Powercell servos could be heard coming from up the stairway on his left, his pulse pounding as he saw those bulky, black and orange boots descend, the iron animalistic mask and detachable ears and tail coming into view as he saw the man of his dreams, only five years older than his twenty-year-old self, being trailed from behind by an Inner Voice Drone

And he locked eyes with him…and found a surprising lack of judgement.

“So…what’s your deal?” He asked, stepping off the stairs and sitting down on the chair directly across from him.

“I uh…uhm…” He was starstruck, though Fox was used to this and let him get the parasites in his stomach out of the way before speaking up.

“I…sent you fanmail…Neko…M?”

The Little Helper-turned-Born Leader’s biogenetic orange eyes lit up and he shot out of his chair. “It’s you!?”

The guard at the door readied their, expecting another for the play room only for Fox to signal them to halt.

“Yeah…it’s me. Neko.M, but…my friends call me Rory.”

“Take off that mask…”

He obeyed without question…

“You are beautiful, telegenic even, don’t you think? He cocked his head to the drone, seemingly asking both parties.

“My IVD here seems to be in agreement. Quick, follow me…”

Before he could even respond, Rory felt a power-armored hand grab his and drag him out of his seat and up the stairs, past other rooms until they come upon one with “PLAY” written in bright green neon above it’s doorway, leading into what appeared to be a public shower converted into a torture room, with artfully dimmed lighting and each stall having the alias and favored torture tools of each member marked and neatly arranged.

“We just so happen to have a new opening…and I’m eager for you to fill it!”

They stopped at a large hole in the wall marked “FOX” with what looked like several TV’s overlooking a shrine to torment, with tools, sex toys and a personal vidcam to capture footage for his limited edition mail-order vidslug “Foxy Close-UpS” collection.

Rory was downright overwhelmed, so overwhelmed he did not even respond or resist the MAC knife cleanly slicing off his CAF vest and shackling him to a pair of ceiling suspended and suspending chains, the IV hovering over both of them at the best angle.

“Now…Neko.M…what’s your dream gimmick?” As he asked this, he sliced open the young man’s hoodie, exposing his large breasts to the camera. “Besides the obvious?”

“I…was thinking…”

“Big, scary cat I’m guessing? The mask kinda pointed at that.”

“Y-yes…a DAF…”

“Oh Karma has just the mods for you. But right now…” He paced behind him to slice off his pants and any underwear, leaving him only in a pair of combat boots. “I’d like you to do a little initiation.”

Before he could utter another answer, Fox was in front of him, pulling off his mask to reveal a youthful, demonic yet telegenic grin. He was breathing heavily and caressing the codpiece of his free hand as he took stock of his newcomer’s figure, especially the back end, setting his knife on the ground to lean in closer and grip a tight handful of bare Rory’s ass-cheeks, breathing heavily against his face and licking his neck before subduing himself and pulling away.

“Let’s get you started.”

“Wait…I’m…”

Before he could finish his response, Fox picked up the dropped MAC and rammed it into Rory’s left underboob. He let out a blood-curdling cry as the blade carved deep into his right breast, shaking his head and struggling to pull away but the suspension chains holding his nude form in place.

The fox’s knife-hand was accustomed to a resisting victim, though he couldn’t help but get some manipulation in.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you say you were my biggest fan!?”

“Y-yeees…”

“Then be still for me…”

The man grit his teeth and sheepishly opened one of his golden-contact lense eyes as his favorite Serial Killer ever continued to perform a standing mastectomy, continuing to pant lustfully, even lick and take bites of the stripped tit-flesh as his free hand reached in and ripped out the greasy tissue.

“Look…” He told Rory, who hesistated to fully open his eyes.

“LOOK I SAID!” He told him again, this time with more force and he complied, turning his attention and opening his eyes only to see one of his two breasts being held up to his face. It made even him let out a gag.

“Is that weakness I see !?”

“N-no! I will bear anything for you!”

“Anything? He asked, taking a half bite chunk clean off the removed mammary gland via his biogenetically-enhanced teeth, salivating a bit before garbling down the other half and moving onto the next breast.

“ANYTHING!” Rory screamed for the whole hideout to hear as his second, left breast started to undergo the same removal process, Fox toying with his chest-flesh and rooting around inside it. However it was at this point that shock began to kick in and Rory began to feel his consciousness fading….

When he awoke, he found himself on the floor, still nude but with Fox presiding over him with a BOOPA CASDIS and Hypofist by his side, the slice marks stitched over but the scars kept as a creative choice.

And speaking of scars and creative choices, he felt an unusual burning sensation on his left shoulder, which seemed to have had a heart shaped scar soldered it onto while he was out.

“Ahh..you’re awake. Welcome to the Cognate, Tobby.”

“T-Tobby?”

“Your new name!” He motioned to one of the killers under him, who presented him with a set of all black Slash armor with a far more high quality, DAF-themed mask than the one he came in, “Tobby” inscribed in chalk on the left side of the breastplate and Fox Den logo on the right, while another killer was busy graffitiing a “Shower” stall just for him.

“Yes…Tobby…that’s me…” He grabbed the armor and began to don it, still in shock from his meatgrinder of a surgery, but comforted by the brighter future ahead…

#ren hana #btd ren #tobby #6robotmonster6 #sla industries #au #alternate universe #ttrpg #horror #sci fi #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #btd fanfic #btd #boyfriend to death

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official-deified-defiled · 1 year

Note

Which of the characters commits the worst offences? Very curious what else MJ does, looking forward to learning about it in game!

OH BOY

BIG CW/TW AHEAD BE ADVISED SOME FUCKED SHIT HAPPENING BELOW THE KEEP READING

Short answer, Adryan and Hannah. They're actually murderers. MJ does kill, but only in the game. His life before MC he hasn't even really gotten in a fight (Ill go into detail below)

Adryan kills what he fucks. Sometimes while he's fucking them. Incredibly manipulative and horrid. Also a shapeshifter and will put on great displays to incite fear and establish dominance. Mind game type. Sexual torture with Geiger eldritch being. Also he eats people. He's a cult leader and a literal god, with the complex in tow. Disrespects and abuses your bodily autonomy to the extremes.

Oh. And the Den/Motherhood thing. That's. Probably the worst

Sometimes death is a blessing.

(ie/ex. Non/dubcon, cannibalism, gorefucking, torture, religious fuckery, heavy manipulation and mind fuckery, incredibly sadistic, fucking to death, murder murder murder, forced pregnancy of both genders, etc)

Hannah tortures and maims people in her barn shed. Extreme sexual torture. To the point where the sexual aspect of it is blurred. It's just sort of torture. And she's getting off on it. On her better days she cruelly plays with her prisoner. Sliding a collar around their neck and 'forgetting' the door isnt closed. Letting them run out thinking their free until the chain connected is finally brought to attention, going tight and yanking their asses to the ground. Stocks, spiked collars turned inside out. Eating them piece by piece. Slowly flaying them. She's going to kill whoever is in the shed. And it's going to be slow. It's going to be bountiful

(ie/ex - non/dubcon, genital mutilation, cannibalism, torture, gorefucking, extreme sadism, drugging, good chunk of drugging, several different kinds of drugging, good amount of masochism and self harm, just, brutal shit, murder, etc) Funny enough. Before the game MJ hasn't done anything too egregious. Any little obsessions he might have when he was younger was stomped out by the cruelty that eventually came from that person. That and thinking about murdering the townspeople. But that was mostly as a teenager.

During the game though. Oof. He stalks MC, breaks into your house, steals your stuff, or,,,,uses it, kidnaps them, does....stuff while theyre asleep. The worse his mental state the more likely hes willing to do horrendous shit. Even in the healthier state, hes like. Still keeping you captive for the most part. Alot of the worse stuff happens when you try to escape or are aggressive and mean towards him (without manipulation) Sanity drops He just wants you to see that he loves you. He's going to make you see that you love him. He'll take care of you. Terms and conditions apply

(ie, ex - dub/noncon, somno, alot of somno. kidnapping, abuses you boundaries ignores your boundaries no boundaries no boundaries unless you really lay them down and even then eh, worse states - violence, breaking bones, possible death, possible mutilation. Mental torture, but like, not on purpose, hes just as equally being tortured, dual natured, etc,etc)

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eric-the-bmo · 2 years

Note

Tysm for the ask about my OC Isaac- I was so happy when I saw it. So this is an ask about your OCs! I've seen quite a few posts of yours tagged with Ceremorph vibes- who are they? 👀

Also I just love hearing about other people's OCs in general. Feel free to use this ask to rant about like. Any OC you want :D

hi hi hello!! aaa ok so! let me explain the tag system i've got real quick! It's always "[character name] vibes," to show that it kind of has? the vibes of one of my OCs, in a sense. (they're almost all dnd ocs because that's my special interest ig) This might be incoherent because I don't know how to talk about my characters in a way that makes sense but here we go!

(woahoho, old-ish art! ^)

Ceremorph is one of my villain ocs! It originally started as an AU version of one of my other characters, Ven- that AU was based on the idea of "what if he embraced his magic instead of being afraid of it?" and then oops! Ceremorph eventually became its own character in Ven's canon story. Because they're so entwined with each other (quite literally), I have to talk about Ven for a short moment.

oh wait uh quick CW for kidnapping, talk of parasites, starvation(?), cannibalism, loss of bodily autonomy/possession

Ven is a human who got kidnapped by illithids and was put through the process of ceremorphosis- it's the process of how illithids reproduce, where they lay a clutch of eggs which hatch into tadpoles. The tadpoles cannibalize each other for a while, before eventually being inserted into a suitable host. They latch onto the brainstem (or eat through the brain? not sure) to take over the mind, and slowly, the host's body changes into the body of an illithid. Ven had a tadpole inserted into his eye, it latched onto his brain stem, and perhaps this was a new experiment the illithids were doing or perhaps something went wrong, but the transformation didn't happen correctly. Ven was found two months after his disappearance, still looking like a human but with no memories of his past. What he did have, however, was a parasite in his brain and the new ability to cast magic- of course, he didn't know about that.

Ceremorph is the source of Ven's magic and has all of Past Ven's memories, but is aware that those aren't its own- in fact, it hates Ven's wife because she stirs up all of the emotions Ven had felt towards her, and Cere is very emotionally repressed and doesn't like that At All. Its people aren't very big on emotions, and it carries itself with a logical and manipulative coolness, though it can have a flair for theatrics and can be prone to anger. Cere, like all illithids, eat brains for the psionic energy, and the hungrier Cere gets, the more... feral/ less sentient it gets.

Currently, Ceremorph can observe almost everything Ven does from inside his brain- it occasionally takes a step back if things get boring, but it Watches. Cere can also take over Ven's body, but almost never does this when Ven is awake, and prefers to do it when he's asleep so it can be passed off as sleepwalking. Given how Cere can mimic Ven really well, the reason it doesn't take over when Ven is awake is due to the fact Ven himself would question the gaps in his memory, possibly causing Cere to be discovered. Also because as good as an actor Cere is, it's not perfect- it dislikes touch, and some of its mannerisms and movements are off. Despite being hidden, Cere talks to Ven: as far as Ven is concerned, it's just his anxiety or part of his subconcious. Cere was actually the one who pushed Ven to unlock their magical abilities- Cere was thrilled at the magic finally being unlocked, and Ven was horrified over the fact he tore a man apart with sorcery he didn't even know he had.

There are some scenes I'm excited for, actually: Ven is currently travelling, and locks the door from the outside so he can't leave while he's "sleepwalking." Eventually, perhaps some other characters will wake up to hear Ven's voice asking them to open the door, please, why don't you? Another scene is where Cere's hunger finally gets the best of it, causing it to take over Ven's body while he's awake and attacking a low-level antagonist, smashing open their skull with magic and devouring their brain in front of Ven's friends. Cere unintentionally reveals itself, and Ven has to wake up and realize he's committed an act of cannibalism, there's a parasite in his brain, and oh yeah! He's becoming a monster that can only live if it kills others.

And of course!!! If Ven ever dies, Ceremorph will in fact take over his corpse!! I don't know what it's planning, but it will absolutely form a cult, and Ophelia will have to fight the monster that looks like and can almost perfectly mimic her dead wife.

Since it's a dnd villain npc, I truly don't know what it's planning. Where does it try to go at night when it's not hunting? Why did it form a cult?

I had a whole paragraph talking about the seperate physical differences Ven and Cere are drawn with (sharp teeth, webbed claws and ears, etc). but even then Ven gains all those traits once his body starts to change. The floating hair is difficult, since Ven has that when he uses his magic, and Cere really only starts to float off the ground once it realizes it doesn't have to pretend to be Ven anymore and can use its magic however it wants. I'd argue the glasses, but Cere wears those when pretending to be Ven (although Ven!Cere's glasses always have a lense flare to hide its eyes). It's all a wild mix.

(behold! quasi-illithid Ven, he's not doing okay ^)

I have no idea if that was? Making sense? I'm aware there's not much to it, it's just a typical dnd villain, but I have a lot of fun with it- Cere is surprisingly easy to joke about

Anyway this probably didn;t make sense and it is! 12am now, oh goodness

but yeah i just think it's cool and tbh i made Cere bc I wanted a self-indulgent au for myself where my nervous poet was a very dangerous and pretty villain

any-vay goodnight, it's so so very cool someone's intrigued by my ocs, thank you ☆

#dont even get me started on apollo #he has a 40 masterdoc #ceremorph vibes #eric finally speaks #ask answered #sorry if this was poorly written #i dnot know how to desrcibe character personalities

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cryptwrites · 2 years

Text

Statement #0162806

(UNOFFICAL) formatted more as a script as i write these in google docs

CW: Cannibalism and Murder

[BLAKE]

I’m surprised they even let you near me. I haven’t had real human interaction except for the fucking pigs outside in years.

[ARCHIVIST]

I was told you’d only give your confession to me? Why?

[BLAKE]

Because my confession isn’t something anyone but you, or your institute would believe.

[ARCHIVIST]

I see. Uh, Statement of Elizabeth Blake regarding the murders of 15 people in 2012. Statement recorded direct from subject 28th June, 2016. Statement begins.

[BLAKE]

I had a normal childhood. I played games with the neighborhood kids, I participated in clubs in school, I made honor roll every year and served as secretary at my high school. It was my college year, I was studying Anthropology at Oxford. I usually went thrifting on the weekends because I really couldn’t afford to shop anywhere else. On one of these weekends I was looking through the books they were selling, and one caught my eye, it was a thick red book, the cover felt like cloth. The title was in gold on the front, reading “Human Diets”. I wouldn't have even thought twice about it, but it looked so… clean? It was clean. It wasn’t worn at all. I mean I knew it was old but it looked brand new. Untouched. I opened it and there was a plaque on the inside cover.. I think it was from some german library, I cannot remember which one it said.

[ARCHIVIST]

(Sighs)

Was it the Library of Jurgen Litner?

[BLAKE]

Yes. That was it. Anyways, I don’t know why but i bought it, it was only a few cents and the cashier didn’t even remember putting it on the shelf. So I went home and put it on my shelf and promptly forgot about it. I only remembered it was even there when I had a friend over and they asked about it. I told them I didn't know what it was and waited for them to leave, flipping through those pages, it was a cookbook. It wasn’t a normal cook book though. It used Human Meat. There were recipes for anything you could think of, popcorn chicken, grilled steak, pepper stuffed pork. Anything, all made out of human meat. The weirdest part is that this didn’t freak me out. I set the book down onto my kitchen counter and picked up my phone.

There was this boy in my literature class who liked me, William, I called him and invited him over for dinner. I do not know why I did it, I just, did. When he got to my apartment, we watched movies and did normal date night things, the poor boy was clearly shaking from anxiety. I told him it was time to prepare dinner and he smiled. I still think about that smile. I stood up and walked to my kitchen, I asked him how steak sounded for dinner and he let out the smallest noise of agreement i’ve ever heard. I gently played around with the knives in the block, before turning back to him, and asked him for a dance. He stared at me for a second, an expression of confusion and embarrassment crossed his face just for a moment before walking over to me. You know… I think that’s the first time I had ever felt loved. Truly loved.

I cannot even remember what song was playing but I remember that he went to kiss me and that’s when I did it. I saw the cook book lying on the kitchen counter and I grabbed the small paring knife out of the knife block and sliced the back of his neck. Slicing someone’s skin open requires a lot more force than you think it would, but it was so smooth, I felt him freeze up as the blood dripped onto my hand and down his back. He started to stumble back before I lunged the small knife fully into his neck and pulled it back out.

William stumbled onto the floor desperately grabbing at his neck, trying to stop the bleeding. I could see him try and scream but I must have hit his vocal cords with the second stab as no sound came from him. He bled out pretty fast, and as he did I opened the cookbook and turned to a Garlic-Rosemary Steak recipe. I pulled the herbs it called for out from my cupboard and turned on the stove. I’ll spare you the details, they’re all in the official police report anyways, but I turned to William, and I cooked him. Bones and all. Now, I need you to believe me, I did not want to kill him. I think I even liked him. I cried out as soon as I realized what I had done.

I didn’t leave my apartment for weeks. I threw my phone away, I kept my door locked but every time I tried to get rid of that damn book I couldn’t. It wouldn’t let me. So I just sat. In my apartment. I grew deeply ill. Like I was starving. Which couldn’t have been possible as i was eating just fine, but when i checked in the mirror I looked… so thin. Like a living skeleton. You could count my ribs. I didn’t look well. I looked at the cookbook and I knew. I knew it was doing this. I needed to kill again. I needed it so bad. But I didn’t want to. But if i didn’t it was gonna kill me. I swear. That book would have killed me... eaten me… So I did. I went out to a bar, I picked up this girl named Nancy, she was sweet, I invited her back for dinner and I killed her. I then cooked her.

I didn’t even touch the food afterwards. I felt, so sick at what I had done. I was so tired. I washed the blood off my clothes and I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning and it was gone. The food was gone. And I knew. I knew the book ate it. I sat, and I stared at my kitchen. It was spotless. You couldn’t see, any trace of a murder. The dishes were cleaned, the knife was spotless. I realized I didn’t feel as sick as I had and I knew I couldn't stop feeding it. Otherwise it would feed on me. I tried to go as long as I could without killing. I killed only when I could count my ribs as feeding it seemed to… feed me.. in a way. I stopped eating entirely after a while. Still don’t.

I went on to kill 13 more people. I remember all of their names, in some weird twisted way, they are my family. I feel horrible for what I did and i regret it everyday, but if I didn't, it was going to kill me. It was going to eat me from the inside out. I need you to tell the family that I'm sorry. I never got the chance either. I just need them to know I'm sorry.

[ARCHIVIST]

What happened to the book?

[BLAKE]

Oh I don’t know. When I was arrested I never saw it again. It didn’t even come up in court. Which, for a cannibalistic cookbook, you think it would. They only convicted me because the man who was supposed to be my 16th was a cop. Hunter his name was, real handsome fellow. He saw me pull the knife and before I knew it I was pinned against a wall with my hands cuffed behind my back. I thought he was just a little… erotic until I heard his identification.

[ARCHIVIST]

The book, Elizabeth.

[BLAKE]

Yes, sorry, It stopped feeding on me. But I still have the scars it left on me. And I don't eat. Don’t think I can. Last time I tried, I had to go to the infirmary. Apparently, I don't actually have a stomach, and most of my organs are not intact. The few doctors that they allow to see me do not know how I am alive. And only a few of the staff know about it. I don’t even know if I can die. And they won’t kill me so I very well could be spending the rest of eternity in here. Until someone kills me. Or the book does. If it still can.

[ARCHIVIST]

Did you ever eat your victims?

[BLAKE]

Once. The 12th. Her name was Abigail Decker. I killed her on the 27th of October. It was while I was cooking, I didn’t even realize it at first, but you know when chefs to that thing where they taste their food while it’s cooking to make sure it tastes good? Yeah. I finished cooking and I went to go to bed to let the book do its thing. Kept it happy. I didn’t even register it until the next day when I felt so.. so sick. I ran to my mirror and tore my shirt off, and everything looked fine, I looked healthy. I was so confused. Did I do something wrong? Did I make it angry? No. No I couldn’t eat. I shouldn’t have eaten. I’ll spare you the details but I was a mess by the time I clawed it out of my body. It was strange. I didn’t even bleed.

[ARCHIVIST]

Is that all? That’s your confession?

[BLAKE]

What? You want a shorter version?

[ARCHIVIST]

No I-

[BLAKE]

I, Elizabeth Blake, killed 15 people, attempted 16 in 2012 due to a cannibalistic cookbook from a german Library. That’s my confession, Archivist.

[ARCHIVIST]

Thank you, Elizabeth. Take care.

[BLAKE]

You as well Archivist.

[ARCHIVIST]

Statement Ends.

SUPPLEMENT

[ARCHIVIST]

Elizabeth Blake is clearly a very distressed, disturbed individual. What worries me the most is the Litner she talked about. It drove her to kill 15, almost 16 people and she got away with it for a year. I decided to respect her wishes and had Tim and Martin reach out to the family’s to let them know her message, of course they weren’t pleased to hear from her, but Tim is good with people. She seemed genuinely regretful. Scared even. Everything from her police report reflects exactly what she told me, minus the book. She killed and cooked people. If I would have taken this statement a year ago i would have brushed it off and decided the Elizabeth just wanted fame, but it’s the mention of the Litner and how… scared she sounded talking about the idea of it killing her that makes me want to believe her. I asked Elias if he knew anything about the book and he said he had indeed heard of it but never came into contact with it. Unsurprisingly, last he heard Michael Crew was in possession of it.

End Supplemental.

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bowiebond · 2 years

Text

Hot & Cold - Chapter 2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40818159/chapters/102279033

Relationship: Mungrove aka Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove

Summary: Eddie awakes in the Upside Down with a stranger. He doesn't know his face, or his name, but the universe has appointed him a savior he never thought to ask for.

CW: Vampire!Eddie, Pyrokinetic!Billy

Words: 3.3k

Slowly, a demodog wandered out from the trees. It bumped its snout against the trunk of a tree, curious, before continuing to walk closer to them. Billy shoved Eddie’s hand out of the way and took a step forward, vigilant. The demodog stopped a few feet away, making a low growling sound before sniffing the air.

“Is it...blind?” Eddie whispered, tilting his head. He hadn’t had much interaction with the hellish creatures down here outside of the bats.

“They all are. They use their nose and ears to track prey.” Billy answered, voice equally soft as he rounded the creature. The demodog growled once more, face rippling like it was considering baring its teeth. Eddie watched with a racing heart as Billy got close, raising the axe.

A distant howl sounded and the demodog knocked its face into his knee, taking off in a jog. Billy fell back on his ass with a grunt, whipping his head around to watch it disappear into the darkness.

“What the hell?” Billy muttered. “This place has been all kinds of wrong since I found you.”

“Wrong? How?” Eddie frowned, offering his hand to the other to help him up. Surprisingly, Billy took it, but he shook it off the moment he was standing.

“Those things never miss an opportunity to take a bite at me. Recently it’s like they have no drive to even attack.” Billy squinted into the distance and exhaled heavily out of his nose. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”

“How long have you been down here, exactly?” Eddie asked, dreading the answer.

“What’s the date topside?”

“Last I checked, March twenty seventh.”

“March...twenty seventh?” Billy paused in his stride, licking his lips. “Huh. Almost my birthday. Though, it probably already passed up there.”

“Oh. That’s cool. I guess.” Eddie pursed his lips, attempting to pat his shoulder but Billy moved it away. “Uh, Happy Birthday then.”

“To think I spent my first year of adulthood in this place. Just my luck.” Billy muttered, continuing on.

“Wait, you’ve been here a year?”

“I died...July? Early July. There was...fireworks. The kind you can only get during that time of the year.” Billy seemed to be missing parts of his memory, or perhaps they were fuzzy, because he spoke cryptically, with a hesitant uncertainty to his voice. “So it would have been almost nine months. I never would have guessed, considering there’s no indicating of night or day here.”

“How long was I out for? After you found me.”

“Hard to say. I slept three times before you woke up the first.”

“And the second?”

“Two sleeps. Then you stayed asleep for...four sleeps. I honestly thought you had died that time. You were cold, but everything down here is.” Billy admitted with a shrug. “So I was planning on cleaning up your body...burying you.”

“Well...thanks for not eating me.”

“What?” Billy turned to him in shock. “Why would I eat you?”

“I mean...it’s like survival 101.” Eddie’s ears burned at the judgement in his tone, feeling stupid about his sort-of-not-a-joke-joke. “Cannibalism.”

“I wasn’t going to cannibalize you.” Billy wrinkled his nose in revulsion. “Even I’m not that fucked up.”

“Well...Thank you regardless for not doing that.”

“Would you have eaten me if I died?” Billy asked, suddenly interested and Eddie remained silent. “Oh my God, why did I even ask? If you wouldn’t before, you definitely would now.”

“I don’t know you very well and I’m not above doing that to survive.” Eddie quickly defended and Billy barked a laugh.

“You’re fucking feral, critter.”

“It’s like Lord of the Flies, okay? You do some heinous shit to survive being stranded.”

“That entire book was about how everything they did was unethical due to their already instilled privilege of being elite, and assuming they should all be leaders because of that, or falling into a sheep’s mentality when given an authority figure.” Billy scoffed. “The author even said that the moral was that society should depend on the ethical nature of each individual and not on a government however logical or respectable it seems to be.”

“...Okay, nerd.” Eddie stifled a snort at the affronted look on Billy’s face.

“I’m not a nerd. I had to write an essay on it back in like, freshman year, alright?”

“Yeah...Honestly I skimmed my friends essay on Lord of the Flies, so I never actually read it.”

“Honestly, it’s not amazing. It’s gratuitous at best. The subject could have been handled better.”

“Okay, now you’re talking like an actual nerd.”

“I’m not-” Billy cut himself off and licked his lips, huffing out a sigh. “What do you do then, huh? You probably flunked high school.”

“Ouch.” Eddie stage-whispered. “You’re not wrong. I’m army crawling my way into a third attempt at graduating.”

“Oh, so you’re an actual idiot.” He mocked his previous words and Eddie scowled.

“Hey, fuck you, man. Not everyone can just sit down and read Lord of the Flies.”

“Did you try?” Billy drawled.

“I did.” Eddie readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I made it through three pages before I cracked the shits.”

“Couldn’t focus?”

“I can’t read.” Eddie bit out.

“How can you not read?” Billy furrowed his brows.

“My Uncle says I have...‘word blindness’.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Means reading is a lot harder for me, okay?” He huffed, hunching in on himself. He didn’t like telling people, it made him feel stupider than he already was, but it was better than this guy thinking he was genuinely illiterate at twenty years old.

“Oh.” Billy frowned. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“...Sorry.” Billy rotated his axe in his hand at the awkward silence.

“School isn’t my thing anyway. I’m mostly just in it for my friends, my club, the drama class.”

“Drama. Didn’t expect it, but it fits, I guess.” Billy looked him over. “What club are you in?”

“Hellfire.”

“That explains nothing.” Billy deadpanned. “What do you do in this club?”

“We play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“That fantasy game with all the dice and fake monsters that only virgins play?”

“Okay, that virgin comment wasn’t necessary.”

“Am I wrong?” Billy quirked a brow, challenging him to disagree.

“Yes.” Eddie said with emphasis. “I’m twenty, man, of course I’m not a virgin.”

“You look like one.” Billy murmured under his breath.

“Well, I’m not.” Eddie was not going to prove himself to this asshole. They delved into silence as they walked, their mutual anxiety having dimmed during their conversation. “...You know, I don’t remember you, weirdly enough. I mean, I like to think I have decent memory, you know, but I don’t...You had to be in school with me, right? Your face is at least familiar now that you’re not a faceless serial killer to me. Middle school maybe?”

“Faceless serial...? Whatever. I was only there for a year. I’m not a local in Hawkins.” Billy seemed disgruntled despite his answer. “But I like to think I made my mark.”

“Wait.” Eddie halted in his steps and Billy huffed, turning back to look at him.

“Yes?”

“You...you said you went missing - uh, died - in July? Last year?”

“Took you long enough.” Billy drawled, closing his eyes with a sigh. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“You’re one of the people who died in that mall fire?” Billy opened his eyes and furrowed his brows.

“Mall fire?”

“Oh, it was like...a whole thing. Starcourt, it went up in flames.” Eddie made a gesture with his hand. “Wait, if you’re alive, is everyone who got caught in it alive too?”

“No.” Billy pursed his lips. “Trust me, that was the first thing I did when I got here. Was look for people, look for Heath...” He caught himself, looking away. “There’s no one here except those monsters, not even that...shadow.” His gaze grew flinty, expression withdrawn as he glared off into the distance where the red sky thundered. “There’s a house, whats left of a house, but I never dared get too close. It’s different from the rest of this place. An even worse kind of different from this end of things. If there’s anything I trust, it’s my gut. Ignoring it has gotten me into enough trouble as it is.”

He rubbed at his chest, as if there was an ache there, and dropped his hand to keep walking.

“Vecna’s house.” Eddie realized. “You never went there?”

“I had enough trouble leaving my own hide out until recently. Like I was going to approach some ominous, falling apart mansion.” Billy scoffed. “And Vecna? I kept hearing whispers about him from topside - which is terrifying by the way, I thought I was going insane until you told me your name.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Only real clue that I wasn’t completely delusional. But I didn’t get much information on who the fuck Vecna is. Just that you guys couldn’t decided on a fucking name for the bastard.”

“So you could hear us too. Like Dustin.” Eddie felt the start of an awed grin on his lips but quickly tapered it down to answer the original question. “And Vecna, he’s- uh, he’s got like three names? Like, Henry was his name when he was a kid, I think, and then he became One in a lab like this other chick Eleven - El? That they kept going on about; she had mind powers? But we called him Vecna originally because of the campaign I was hosting, and he was similar, it’s...” He shrugged, blowing out a heavy breath. “It’s a lot. I didn’t really get half of it. I’m probably the least informed of the group, honestly.”

“El?” That caught his attention. “Max’s friend?”

“You know Max?” Eddie asked, jogging up to him to close the distance that had occurred during his rambling explanation.

“She’s my sister.” Billy squinted at him. “Do you really not know who I am?”

“You’re Red’s brother?!” Eddie’s volume rose without his consent and Billy slapped a hand over his mouth, looking around.

“No, please, get us killed, why don’t you?” Eddie smacked his hand off him.

“Hargrove?” It clicked the longer he stared at him. His hair was darker and curls undone from time and grime, skin paler, scars countless, but it was fucking him. Undeniably, even in the dim Upside Down. How had Eddie missed it? To be fair, he hadn’t know him outside of rolling his eyes on occasion at him and his gaggle of preppy jocks. Tommy had been their messenger when it came to weed, but he only mentioning him by name in the few transactions they had on Billy’s behalf offhandedly.

Overall, Billy Hargrove had been less of a nuisance to him than fucking Steve Harrington, even if that unfortunately-cool-as-hell-now butthead had forgotten his passing jabs at him and his friends, or the way he egged on Tommy’s antics.

“Congrats. You know my name.” Billy tucked his overgrown fringe behind his ear. “Yeah. Billy Hargrove.”

“Holy shit, dude.” It was surreal, seeing him in the flesh. “Red is gonna...well, she’s gonna feel something, knowing you’re alive.” He wasn’t sure how she’d react, but it could be anywhere between screaming, crying or possible violence considering she was one cool but scary girl according to Dustin.

“She’s not gonna know.” That made Eddie double take.

“What do you mean ‘she’s not gonna know’?”

“What I said.” Billy said, voice low. “She’s not gonna know I’m alive.”

“Why not?” Eddie almost tripped over another vine and righted himself, taken off guard. “Look, I don’t have any siblings of my own, and I don’t know what your relationship was like, but aren’t you like...suppose to reunite with your family after almost dying?”

“Look, Eddie, I’ve had a long time to think about my life. You get all the time in the world down here.” Billy assured with a distant look in his eyes. “I’ve lived my whole life trying to survive the shit hand I was given by whatever motherfucker is in the sky. Mad Max? She doesn’t need me. She never has. She has more guts than anyone I know, including myself. So yeah, I’m gonna stay dead.”

He raised his axe and slashed a overhanging branch out of their path with more flare than necessary, off kilter in his own bubbling self-loathing that always turned to anger.

“So what? You’ll get out of here and just leave?” Eddie was flabbergasted by the very notion. “What’s to stop me from telling her?” Eddie challenged and flinched when Billy reached back and grabbed his shirt, pulling him down that last inch to really look into his stormy blue eyes.

“You owe me.” Billy reminded, voice dangerous. “I kept you alive at the expense of myself. You should be fucking grateful. So unless you wanna be in my debt for life, I suggest when you get back up there, you tell them you did it all by yourself. Capiche?”

Eddie swallowed hard.

“Capiche, man. You’re six feet under, no doubt about it.” Billy let him go with his agreement made and sighed out through his nose.

“I’m glad we have a mutual understanding, critter.” He gave a false grin and ruffled Eddie’s frankly disgusting hair, half shoving his head as he waltzed back onto their path. Eddie grumbled and brushed his hair back, following after him.

“You were way nicer when I was dying.” He muttered bitterly.

“Like I said. You start getting lonely. Start going a little stir crazy.”

“I bet you’re a big softie under that cold exterior.” Eddie nudged him with his elbow, giving him a supercilious smile.

“My exterior is quite warm, thanks.” A flame danced over the fingers of his free hand and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Show off.”

“Shut up, we’re almost at the lake.” Billy elbowed him back harder, wiping his nose with a sniff and Eddie grunted, holding his side. His wounds were gone, but he had always bruised like a peach, alright?

Eddie was able to hold off his urge to talk long enough for the trees to clear, different topics bouncing around his head until they vanished at the sight before him.

“Billy, what do you think that is?” He pointed ahead of them. Billy didn’t answer. “Was that here last time you came for water?”

“...I’m not answering that.”

“Okay, okay, so...” Eddie put his hands together and took in a deep breath, placing his pointer fingers to his lips. “You mean to tell me you didn’t notice the giant gate that ripped through half of the fucking lake?!”

He screeched, shaking his fists furiously as he spun around and kicked at nothing, the spike of frustration threatening to implode his insides if he didn’t shake it out of his skin. He rubbed his hands down his face and let out an unintelligible yell into the sky.

“In my defense, everything has been trying to kill me since I arrived.” Billy pointed out, clear aggravation in his tone. “So no, I didn’t approach the pulsing, glowing, crack in the earth!” He gestured over to the gate ahead of them that spanned across the lake and into the distant woods west of them. Eddie tongued his upper lip as he placed both hands on his hips, looking into the foggy distance before he looked back at Billy with annoyance.

“How long has it been there?”

“Since I found you.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it when we were talking about gates?” Eddie’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, tilting his head, encouraging Billy to say something stupid again.

“No, I didn’t.” Billy monotoned. “You though I was going to throw myself into a pool of what looks like fucking lava?”

“I could have been in an actual hospital who knows how long ago!”

“Oh yeah, because a hospital, full of people with injuries and blood, would have been a good place for you to be, huh? A place that could really help you with your problem, right?”

They glared at each other, lips thin and refusing to let the other have this win. Eventually, Eddie threw his hands up in surrender, shaking his head as he turned away.

“Okay, okay, I’ll you have that one, but I want you to know that I think you’re idiot.” Eddie quipped, making his way towards the gate with haste.

“I’m the idiot?” Billy scoffed, jogging after him this time. “You flunked high school twice!” Billy jabbed his finger into his back and Eddie gasped.

“I told you that in confidence!” Eddie cried back, voice shrill.

“Bullshit. There is no confidentiality here.” Billy gestured between them with a sharp flick of his wrist. “I don’t fucking know you.”

“Ouch. I thought we were making leeway, Hargrove.”

“Don’t call me fucking Hargrove.” Billy said in disgust. “It’s just fuckin’ Billy, okay?”

“Okay, Just Fuckin’ Billy.” Eddie kept his eyes on him as he bowed, gesturing to the portal. “Ladies first.”

“You’re making it really tempting to hit you right now.” Billy growled, knuckles white around his axe as he approached the gate. His face was illuminated by the orange glow and he turned to Eddie. With a swift kick, he knocked the jester into the mud with a yelp. “’Ladies first’, fucking bullshit.” He muttered and went to jump in feet first before Eddie let out a cry.

“Wait, wait!” He waved his hands around wildly.

“What?!”

“It’s a water gate!” Eddie scrambled up onto his feet, peering over the lip of the gate. “And, I mean, it’s upside down.”

“Can you talk like a normal fucking person for two seconds, instead of riddles?” Billy was not amused.

“What I’m trying to say, is that you can’t just step in.” Eddie adjusted his jacket with a huff. “You have to dive.”

“Okay. I know how to swim. I was a lifeguard.”

“I...am not the strongest swimmer.” Eddie bit his lip. “I mean, I can, but also...I don’t know if I could take the extra weight.” He gestured to the bag on his shoulder. “And you’re planning to swim with an axe.”

“I can swim with an axe.” Billy decreed like he had done so before. Which Eddie fucking doubted.

“Can you? I did kind of use you like a blood bag earlier.”

“Well, you’re obviously feeling just dandy after your snack.” Billy’s lips twisted into a vindictive, charming smile and shoved the axe into Eddie’s chest. “Vampire’s are supposed to be strong, right? If you can’t carry it, drop it, but give it a shot, critter.”

With that, he dived into the gate.

“Dude!” Eddie yelled after him, stomping his foot with a groan. “Why do they always do this to me? Jesus fucking- argh!” He dropped the duffel bag and unzipped it, squeezing the weapon into it. At least his hands would be free. He considered his layers and evidentially discarded them. They weren’t favorites of his, and he doubted he’d die from hypothermia when, well...He seemed to naturally run colder now. With only his torn up Hellfire shirt, ripped jeans and shoes on now, he slipped each strap over his arms like a backpack and took a deep breath, blowing it out quick and shaking his hands. He couldn’t remember what happened to his bandanna, now that he thought about it, and though he mourned it, he could always buy another.

“Okay. Okay, you got this. You haven’t drowned since you were like, ten.” He stared at the gate with pursed lips.

“You also didn’t swim again for several years after.” He ran his hands through his hair and groaned, jumping when he heard a shriek in the distance. He stared out into the woods and shook his head quickly.

“Yeah, no, water is better than here.”

With one last breath in, he attempted a dive that was more of a fall and sunk through the gate with a cut off yelp.

#mungrove #beddie #billy hargrove #eddie munson #eddie munson x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic

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leggerefiore · 2 years

Text

Tones of Home

cw: cannibalism (nothing explicit), yandere implied,

words: 6521

this is just the first half, enjoy

Summary: A pair of strange twins don’t attend your school. Naturally, you are curious despite the warnings of your classmates.

Pt. 2

They were strange; the twins that you never saw at school. Their age was obviously close to yours, if not the same, and they always seemed to be together. You watched as they chased after one another in a weird form of tag in which, instead of simply tapping the other to signify that they were 'it', you instead tackled them to the ground. The brother pinned to the earth struggled against the one who held them, before ultimately giving in and having the roles reversed.

You had mentioned them to your classmates a couple of times, curious as to why they did not attend your school. One girl sneered at you and shook her head, "Don't talk to them. Mamma says that their family is weird and bad." Naturally, this did not satiate your starving curiosity, but, rather, it wet your ever growing appetite. They must have lived nearby because of how often they came to play in the woods close to your house. You found your nerves steeled as you approached the two with an unbelievable interest.

They turned their heads to stare at you with an odd, indescribable look in their eyes. It took a few moments of silent inquiry as to who would speak first before the one dressed in a black sweater vest took the initiative. "Hello, why have you approached us?" his voice was squeaky yet held a strong tone to it. His twin nodded as the smile upon his lips twitched further up. You felt strangely bashful as you wondered if wanting to be their friends was a good enough reason to have interrupted them. "I, uh - I wanted to be friends! You play by my house often, and I wanted to join you!" you managed to get out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid further embarrassing yourself.

A giggle came from one of them, which dared you to peek open an eye. The one in grey walked up to you and took your hand in his. "Friends!? I want to be friends! Ingo, let's be friends!" he babbled out with an excited energy, body bouncing slightly. You smiled at his beaming grin. Ingo, the black sweater vest's name, apparently, nodded, "Alright, Emmet, we can be their friend. Do I need to explain the rules to you for our game?" You repeated his gesture, unsure of how to play their strange form of tag.

It was explained that one of you would be chosen as the 'outsider' who the other two 'insiders' would have to capture. After the outsider was captured by one of the insiders, the roles would shift around. It was quite fun, despite the strange wording used in the description. You had fun tackling and playfully fighting with the twins as they did the same to you. Though, you quickly lost to them whenever they were both insiders, their synchrony was impossible to outsmart. Before you knew it, your mom called your name for you to return inside. You sighed. There was no urge to leave your new friends.

"I have to go. That was my mom," you explained sadly, glancing to your house, "I want to play some more with you." Ingo shook his head, "You must return home. It is unwise to disobey your mother." Emmet suddenly squeezed you into a tight hug, his arms constricting around your shoulders. Ingo's frown deepened at the sight of his brother's clinginess. "Emmet and I will come back here tomorrow. Are you available for around the same time as today?" the older twin negotiated. You nodded at his plans and embraced the younger back. The parting was much easier with another playdate scheduled. The twins waved you goodbye as you headed back toward your home.

It became a common occurrence to play with the twins for entire afternoons. They were so much fun to be around and made you laugh at how they imitated each other perfectly. Ingo was quite dependable if you struggled with homework, as he seemed educated beyond your grade. Emmet was apparently the same way, but he never offered to help you unless your pout was terrible enough. They showed you all of their games they played with one another, and you enjoyed them all thoroughly. A dull moment never apparent when you spent time with them.

On a certain afternoon, Emmet sat beside you under a tree and leaned into your side, his smile wider than usual. "I want you to have dinner with our family. My dad wants to meet you," he told you, as he stared at you with big, pleading eyes. It was not something that should have been a problem, and you were quite intrigued by where the twins lived. "Alright! I have to make sure my mom is alright with it, then I'll go with you," you told him with a bright grin, standing up to go tell your mother. Emmet simply nodded while his large smile remained across his face.

You had gotten permission from your mom after she met with Ingo, who had followed you with a hunch that this could be a problem. He promised to walk you back home and to take care of any allergies you may have.She chuckled at his strict demeanor for someone of his age before sending you off. It was quite a walk to their home, as it turned out. Leaves crunched obnoxiously under your feet as you followed Emmet's lead. They apparently lived deeper into the woods than you had expected. Perhaps this is why they did not attend your school.

An older farmhouse with peeling cream and azure paint came into view as Emmet's gleam turned even brighter. "Ah, this is our home! It's nice. Right?" the younger twin eagerly grabbed at your hand and dragged you along without bothering to wait for your answer. The stairs of the porch creaked under you as you were tugged on by him. Ingo was heard rushing after you both, requests for Emmet to be gentler going ignored. Your hand was let go as he opened the door. An amazing scent hit your nose as you entered the unfamiliar home. Before you laid a cozy living room that screamed a bit too country for your tastes. Truthfully, your family was from Driftveil but decided a change of scenery for your youth would be healthy.

A man walked in from an archway, wiping his hands with a dish towel. His silvery strands were identical to those of the twins, though his eyes were a piercing viridian rather than the chrome that the two had. A soft smile came across his face as he spotted you. Ingo stood nervously at your side while Emmet walked up to the man. "Dad, dad! This is our new friend," the younger brother gushed, "I love them, dad!" Their father nodded quietly at his words, observing you curiously. He approached you and knelt down to your height. A hand was held out for you to shake while he smiled, "It's nice to meet you! My boys won't stop chattering about you. I just had to see you with my own eyes." You shook his much larger hand and nodded nervously.

You were led to sit on the couch while Emmet ran off to grab something that he wanted to show you. Ingo stayed at your side. "I'm sorry about how strange everything is... I wish I had a normal family," he apolgised with a soft tone, eyes cast onto the floor. This confused you. His family appeared completely average from what you had both heard and seen. His father worked as a train mechanic while his mother stayed at home to raise the twins and educate them. "I think you're perfectly normal, Ingo!" you reassured the nervous twin. He moved to stare at you with odd, glittering eyes. This lasted for a few moments until Emmet ran in with his Gameboy Advance in hand.

You played some strange platformer game with an adorable pink character until a feminine voice called out to you that dinner was ready. Emmet who had been pressed completely into your side, watching how you played his game, immediately perked up. Ingo closed his book with a sigh. "Mom made something special. She is excited that we have a friend," the younger twin explained, as he grabbed your arm to tug you along once more. "They can walk by themselves, Emmet. Please stop dragging them everywhere like a toy," Ingo properly intervened this time, pulling Emmet's hand away and softly grabbing yours with his own. A glossy sheen overcame Emmet's eyes as he watched his brother replace him.

You sat between each twin at the table, your mouth watering from the aroma of the dinner on the table.A roasted meat of some sort, covered in a dark sauce that held a sweet scent to it. Emmet was elated by your response, while Ingo's face retained a certain neutrality to it. Their father sat across from Emmet as their mother took one parallel to Ingo. She had long brown hair tied back into a braid with nearly iridescent mercury eyes. Their father placed a kiss on her cheek as she settled down. "Ah, it's so pleasant to finally meet you, I'm the twins' mother. I can't find the words to express my gratitude for being friends with my sons," she spoke elegantly yet held a monotone in her words. It made you think of Emmet's tone when he spoke.

"It's no problem, ma'am! Ingo and Emmet are so much fun! They help me, too! They're super smart!" you chirped out, hoping to make a good impression on her. Their father nodded keeping a neutral face, before a bright grin split across their mother's. "I am relieved to hear they are actually listening to me when I teach them," she gave them a lightly scolding look, "Well, let us begin our meal. Darling, could you cut the meat?" Her husband nodded as he leaned forward to stake the meat with a two-pronged fork. Slices were quickly cut away as a tender, medium-well-cooked insides were revealed. You watched as Emmet basically drooled over the meal while Ingo stared with strange eyes at it. "How large of a slice would you like?" their father prompted you, not wishing to overfeed you something that you may not like.

A thinner piece was laid onto your plate, as you observed everyone else's slice size. Emmet and his father took a thicker chunk, while Ingo had a more average size akin to yours, but their mother's was noticeably thin. Maybe she was not hungry. "Alright, let's eat," was all the permission Emmet needed from his father to dig into his meal. You hesitated for a moment before joining in with everyone else. Cutting off a small piece to try before fully going in, you felt a sweet, yet tangy tomato-based sauce overtakes your tongue, before the meat seemingly melted away in your mouth. The flavour was different than what you had eaten before but closely resembled the taste of pork. You caught Emmet glancing at you a few times, alongside Ingo. Were they concerned you would not like their mother's cooking? Well, you certainly did! The woman must have spent a while perfecting such a dish.

"Did you enjoy the meal?" their father prompted as he went around collecting the dishes at the table. You nodded and answered him, "It was really good! Thank you for having me over, sir!" A soft smile came across his face. Shaking his head, he rebutted you, "I'm glad you liked it. My dearest and I slave over meals, so it's wonderful to hear it went well. We're happy to have you over anytime." You hung around with the twins while playing Emmet's Gameboy for around thirty minutes later, until their mom came in wearing a light coat and holding car keys. "Let's get you home! Your mother will certainly think we kidnapped you if we don't," the joke was obvious despite the lack of inflection from her.

Ingo and Emmet sprung up after you got up to follow her, but she scowled at them. "No, you two are staying here. Your dad wants to discuss something with you," she explained, while grasping your hand softly. The younger twin immediately started bawling his eyes out and clinging to you while Ingo stared at her with pleading eyes. Neither wanted you to go, they both liked spending time with you so much. She sighed at the state of her sons before shaking her head, "I would take you if I could, but he was adamant about talking with you. You will see them again soon, I promise. I'll talk with their mother about it." Hesitantly, Emmet let you go while taking a glance at Ingo, who was biting his trembling lip. They both nodded before bidding you many affectionate goodbyes.

Their mom sat you in her backseat carefully, buckling you in securely. She got into the driver's seat and adjusted the chair for a moment before turning on the car. The rear-view mirror was carefully maneuvered until she deemed its position good enough. "I'm sorry for how clingy they are," she spoke to you as she put the car into reverse to back out of their gravel driveway. Lights shined out into the darkened woods as the setting sun became obscured by the trees. You were glad she was driving you home rather than walking in the ominous nature the evening held. "They just don't have any friends outside of you and each other. I wish I could send them to normal schooling," she further explained as she drove away from her home, "My husband disagrees, as he worried too much over them. I worry about them too, but it breaks my heart to see them so lonely. I genuinely am grateful for your kindness." It was a bit embarrassing, but you nodded bashfully at her words.

The rest of the car ride was silent except for directions to make sure she was not taking you to the wrong place. Soon, you were parked outside of your house, and she held your hand to walk you to the front door. A stern, strong knock resounded against the wood as your mother called out 'coming'. It swung back to reveal her wearing lazier pyjamas. A smile spread across her face as she glanced at the twins' mother. "Oh! Thank you so much for having them over! Did everything go alright?" your mom asked her. She nodded, "Wonderfully, in fact. Thank you for allowing them to come over. I was wondering if we could possibly schedule another time for a proper playdate?" You huffed at the childish word, and your mother chuckled at your response. The women found themselves in a deep discussion about it and parenthood before bidding each other farewell. "What a nice family you met. Did you enjoy yourself?" Your mother asked as she led you back into the house. You nodded.

It was a few weeks later, during the sweltering heat of summer haunted by cicadas' chirps and wasps' buzzing, that you stayed a night over at their place. You had just finished playing house with Ingo. You were the partner staying at home while he was a hardworking husband. A baby doll had been brought out to be your pretend child, and it definitely was thrown in frustration at least once. The older twin had proved himself quite a disagreeable husband, wanting you to stay at home to be tucked away from everyone else. You had wished Emmet was there to balance him out, but the younger twin was apparently in trouble for something the older refused to specify.

"Do you want to stay the night at our place? My mother said it was fine as long as your mother said it was too," Ingo asked, holding the dirtied doll to his chest, a frown deepened from your rough treatment of his toy. You pondered it for a moment. The time spent at their home was always exciting and different than when they came over to yours. They had more toys than you, video games, and their parents even let you watch PG-rated movies. "I'd love to! I can see Emmet, too, right?" you beamed at him and brought him for a deep embrace, giggling at how he flinched at first. "Y-yes, of course! Emmet will be there, and he will be delighted to see you," Ingo stuttered out while freeing an arm to encircle you. You squeezed him tightly before pulling away.

Naturally, your mother said yes and helped you pack a bag while Ingo waited patiently on your couch. He always appeared in such deep contemplation as he hung around in different places. You felt bad for them because all the kids around school spoke ill of them despite never having spoken to them. A classmate had pulled you aside in tears, begging for you to never speak to them again. A family of demons, she called them.

You shoved her away and glared. How dare she speak ill of your friends! They were a bit odd, definitely, but they had never done anything malicious. The worst you witnessed was their mother taking a harsh tone and putting one in time out for a moment. Their father could be rough at times, but his love for his family shone through.They basically treated you like another one of their children. You recalled how upset Ingo and Emmet had gotten when you told them about her reaction. "They are upset that you have good friends, and they don't!" Emmet whined while pulling you close.

After your bag was packed, your mother waved goodbye to you and Ingo as the trek to the secluded home began. The older twin's hand held yours as you walked in relative silence. He blocked you from the road and watched carefully when any car drove by. You felt giddy when their home came into view and dragged Ingo along to his front door. It was unlocked, so you entered without permission, which had become a normalcy. Their mom was folding laundry as a daytime soap opera played on the television. Her eyes darted over to you as she smiled at the way you held her son's hand. "Their mom said it was fine for them to stay the night," Ingo told his mom, a rare visible excitement across his face. She nodded at his words, "Do you want to put your bag down? You can leave it in their room," she offered, seeing your being weighed down by the pack.

The evening was spent mostly with Ingo as Emmet was still apparently in trouble, which meant he was out with his father. You sat beside the older twin while he read the words aloud to you. It was a book about the way locomotive diesel engines functioned. Most of what he said went right over your head, but his voice was pleasant to listen to. He reminded you of a teacher at times. After the twin realised you were not as interested in his book as he was, he then switched to watching a show with you. He apologised for boring you. You just smiled. It may not have piqued your interest, but Ingo's love of trains was difficult to overlook.

Emmet returned as the son began to set, grouchy and covered in mud. His dad was not in much better condition as he dragged the child in with him. Their mom popped in from the kitchen before scrunching her nose at their state. "Take a shower, darling. Bathe Emmet, too, while you're at it. Why did you let him get so filthy?" she called out, with irritation present in her usually empty tone. He sighed, "You try controlling him. You'll know exactly why he's covered up to his neck in mud." Green eyes travelled over to you and their father gave you a small grin. "Nice to see you, dear. Are you staying the night?" he asked, shifting into a softer tone. You nodded, and Emmet squealed when he saw you. He was about to rush over to you when his father caught him in his arms. "I'll have him right back out to you after a bath. Come on, Em. You don't want to get them dirty," he chided his son lightly.

Dinner that night was a pasta bake with meat lying and a lovely spiced tomato sauce. Their mother laughed when you asked for a second serving, but happily obliged. In the time that you had spent with the family, you had noticed how they seemingly often ate meat-based meals. That was not to say they lacked the occasional salad or vegetarian based meal, but that there was a notable occurrence of it in contrast to your own home. It did not bother you, as anything the twins' parents prepared was absolutely delicious. You wondered if their mother was a retired professional chef sometimes, but she just shrugged when you asked.

Emmet kept you up late into the night with the cute pink circle game, Kirby, as he had alerted you to, but something broke the childish fun. After hearing a loud scream for help from just beyond your window, Ingo jumped out of bed.Emmet clicked off the lamp with record speed while Ingo rushed out of the room to tell the adults. Arms surrounded you as Emmet pressed you close to him. He whispered reassurances that he would keep you safe, and that everything would be alright after his parents got everything under control. A loud screech had you burying yourself in Emmet's body as you tried to force yourself anywhere but where you were. He hummed in an attempt to calm you. The older twin returned soon, "Dad said he was going to handle it and for us to stay inside with the lights off until he's back."

Moments clicked by in silence, with an occasional yell or plea breaking it. Ingo watched the window while Emmet held a blanket around you both. Eventually, the sounds went away. Your shoulders dropped the tension as you sighed. It became completely quiet. The sounds of heavy footsteps destroyed the stupor, and you hid deeper in Emmet, who watched the door with careful eyes. It opened to reveal their father, his eyes catching the little light terrifyingly. "Everything is alright now. I handled it and there is no threat. Please try to go to bed. It's quite late," he spoke kindly to you three before closing the door again.

Relief was palpable in the room as the brother clicked on the lamp and shuffled things around again. Ingo crawled back up onto the top bunk while Emmet situated himself on the bottom. You were supposed to sleep on a premade pallet on the floor, but terror prevented you from getting comfortable enough to sleep. Eyes peered at the sleeping twin, resting on his side with the game still firmly in his hands. He would not mind, would he? You crawled into his bed without bothering to ask. He turned to smile at you, "Can't sleep? Me neither. You're welcome to stay." The Thomas the Tank Engine themed blanket was lifted up for you to get under. You felt him shift so that you could watch him play. The warmth of his body was a small luxury you pressed deeper into. Somewhere in the night, slumber overtook your fragile mind.

The morning greeted you with an urge to use the bathroom, but the inability to escape the arms that held you. Emmet, too, had fallen asleep, but apparently, he decided to supplement his teddy bear with you instead. Every time you tried to free yourself, his grip tightened. You whined, "Emmet, let me go! I have to go pee!" His head shook as he squeezed you tighter to him. "I'm not your stupid teddy bear! I'm your friend!" He finally relented, his arms ending their tyranny. You got up instantly and dashed away to the nearest bathroom. Emmet's growing frown goes entirely unnoticed by you.

Their mother had pancakes ready for you as she carefully examined you.Ingo and Emmet were already seated at the table, eating their food, the younger even eating his food at a reasonable pace for once. "Are you alright? I do apologise for everything last night. An unwell man had gotten lost and needed assistance. My husband walked him back to the road and alerted the police," she helped sit you down at the table, placing you beside her and away from her sons. "I'm taking you home after you finish eating as I feel unsafe keeping you here," she told you with an authoritative tone. Ingo gasped harshly while Emmet stood up in his chair. "No! Dad said they needed to stay!" the younger argued as his mother shot him a glare. "What your father says and what actually needs to be done can vary, Emmet. Sit down, or I will take away your game for a week," she seemed more aggressive than usual. He did as she said, with an ugly expression on his face. Ingo just observed with terribly sad eyes. It was obvious he did not want you to go either.

The woman did as she said and loaded you into her car after you finished eating. Her silver eyes glanced at you a few times in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. You were returned to your home with minor conversation between her and your mother. It was upsetting to be ripped from your friends so soon, but there was nothing you could do. Later that day, however, you spotted Emmet standing near the woods, waving you down. You rushed out to him, excited to see one of the twins again. He beamed at you before placing a finger to his lips to indicate that this was a secret. "Mom made dad mad by taking you back. You weren't supposed to go back. She said that we needed to be more patient. We will," he explained with a soft tone, holding out one of his toy trains for you, "This is a gift. Ingo and I are sorry you were scared. We will still play with you. Just less, because that's what mom said."

It was frustrating that the woman who had always seemed so kind and sweet was now separating you from your best friends. She kept to that, as for the next few months, the brothers only came around sporadically. It became your normal before it was properly comprehended. You hated it but cherished the precious time allotted by the twins. They were still your closest friends and remained so as puberty struck you all. Ageing was naturally the next stop for all of you as months became years. A day in an instant, no longer a small child, but an awkward teenager. The brothers changed from tiny, cute boys to lanky, beautiful, not-quite men.

Naturally, the incoming of high school led to an interest in relationships and more intimate situations. You were not unaffected by these sways and eyed a guy from your class for your developing tastes. He was on the taller side and a bit too skinny, with pale blond hair. His eyes were a dark grey and he talked a bit too stiffly for most other people to like. You loved it, however. The gushing you gave to the twins about him led to a strange gaze coming from the both of them. Emmet wrapped an arm around you as he sat beside you under the tree, "Is he really that great? I don't trust him." You laughed, Emmet did not trust anybody outside of you, his family, and his pokemon. "He's wonderful, Em. I plan to confess to him soon!" you rambled further.

Ingo stood stiffly, watching a car drive by with distant eyes. "What if he doesn't feel the same?" the older twin prompted you unexpectedly. He would most certainly feel the same, right? You had not even stopped to consider what you would do if he did not. "Don't worry about that, Ingo. I know he feels the same! You should see the looks he gives me," you laughed, missing how the brothers both shared a conspiratorial look. "Ooo, look at the time. I still have some algebra homework to do! Hey, can I see you guys again on Friday? That's when I plan to tell him," you wanted to share the news of your new relationship status as soon as it happened. "We should be able to. I don't see any reason as to why we couldn't. Our mom isn't controlling us like that anymore," Ingo reminded you.

It was true, the brothers had been coming around more since you all had reached your teenage years. Their mother had apparently decided that they were free to do as they pleased, even if that meant seeing you every afternoon. Emmet tightened his arm around you as he grasped your hand tightly, silver eyes gazing hypnotisingly into your own, "If he says no, then we will always be here for you. You're free to come to our place whenever you need. Mom and dad said so. You're their third kid, remember?" You tightened your grip and grinned at him, "Ooo, how about I come over Friday? Can you subtly hint at her to make that pasta bake?" His smile widened, and he giggled. You were getting that pasta bake, which was what that meant.

You parted from the twins on a Tuesday afternoon and went through your normal motions until Thursday morning came. Your interest, Caesar, was not there. He was absent. It was rare that he would miss a day, but perhaps he had gotten sick. You shoved the worrisome thoughts away and continued on. That was until you saw how he was still gone the next day. Everything was made by an assembly called into the auditorium. The principle stood at his podium and nervously adjusted his tie as he announced the missing status of Caesar. You were heartbroken. How could he have disappeared? Did he run away? You started sobbing heavily and had to be sent home early from your inconsolable distress.

You did not go home. No, you walked out into the woods and headed to your friends' home. Being alone in such a delicate time seemed impossible, and you knew that the twins would be there for you. They always were. You recalled a time in which a girl had cut your hair, and how it had broken you down into hysterics. The brothers had held you that entire afternoon and evening, getting in trouble with their mother. Seeing you so sad hurt them deeply. You walked up to the front door, the stairs still creaking under you, and knocked. It opened to reveal Ingo in an apron. His eyes shot wide at your state as he motioned you in. You were sat on the couch, still the same one from all those years ago. Emmet was called for and you heard footsteps rushing over from down the hall.

"Oh, darling! What's wrong?" the younger twin asked after he got a proper look at you, coming to embrace you tightly. "Cae- Caesar is- Caesar is gone!" you wept into the t-shirt he wore as one of his hands gently massaged your scalp. Emmet held you to him as you cried for what must have been hours. You finally pulled away to stare him in the eyes. It felt ridiculous to be bawling your heart out for someone you barely knew in actuality, but still, it was pleasant to be held by Emmet. There was a certain natural movement of things as you unconsciously placed a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at the contact, "Are you going to be alright? Do you want to stay the night? The phone is free for you to use." You called your mother and informed her of your plans to spend the night, which she immediately approved and inquired about how you were feeling.Lying, you said that you were fine. Emmet sighed as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. "Is Ingo cooking or something?" you had not seen him since you first entered. "Yeah. Mom is teaching us how to cook, and it's his night. Apparently, we're unbearable to teach together," he joked as he held you to him. The contact would seem intimate to anyone outside, but this was simply how you always interacted with the twins. It was not unusual to kiss them or squeeze them close.

The pasta bake was delicious that night. Ingo was not a bad cook as it turned out, especially with his mother's guidance. She had been upset to hear what had happened but said you were perfectly welcome to stay the entire weekend if that was what you needed. The night was spent playing some horror game on Emmet's PlayStation 2, passing the controller around between the three of you. It was adorable to watch as Ingo turned away in terror from the game while Emmet hyper focused and commented on the little details. Naturally, the younger was amazing at solving the puzzles that the game presented. A terrible romcom was turned on after the game grew tiresome, in which all of you slowly tapered off into slumber as it continued.

When you woke up the next morning, you realised that you were in Ingo's bed. You assumed it was the older's as he had made himself quite comfortable with his arms encircling you and his face buried into your chest. His breaths were slow and peaceful. You felt terrible about waking him up. Your hand stroked through his hair as you pondered your feelings. Had you liked Caesar or what Caesar resembled? The lanky build is just like that of the twins, their eyes another shade of grey. It was embarrassing to realise how much you liked the twins in that moment. Heart suddenly racing as you wondered how long had you felt this way. Ingo gently pulled away to look you in the eyes, "Is there something wrong? Your heart suddenly started beating rapidly?"

With the romcom fresh on your mind, you pressed your lips to his. You expected him to push you away, but instead his hands moved to cup your face as he reciprocated the kiss. The moments spent like that were lost on the both of you, happy to finally have solace about the other's feelings. A gasp broke you apart. "Ingo! Without me?" Emmet rudely tugged his brother away and placed a rough kiss against your lips. You laughed at the affection at first, finding his reaction adorable. It quickly grew into something heavier as his tongue prodded at your lips. That was when Ingo intervened and pulled Emmet away.

You three had a proper discussion over breakfast, waffles and some sausage patties. "So, uh, am I dating both of you? Is that alright?" you asked, unsure if that was possible. "Yes, that is perfectly acceptable. We both love you, and, well..." Ingo's sentence was left unfinished as his cheeks bloomed with colour. "We have since we were kids. Ingo would never let me tell you. He's meeeeeean," Emmet finished his brother's thought and blew a raspberry at him. You giggled at their treatment of each other. It was the same for you. For the longest time, there was a strong connection between the three of you. How could you have misplaced your affection in Caesar? It made much more sense that you loved the brothers.

"Well. I was wondering when I'd catch you three together," their father called out from the entryway of the dining room, "Thank you for winning me a bet against your mother, boys." He walked in and messed up Emmet's hair affectionately. The two looked at their parent with an odd look, but all three came to smile at one another. You felt envy at their ability to communicate without words.

It was a lazy day in the summer during your junior year, when you stayed a week at their home. You enjoyed your time helping them around the house and learning some of their mother's recipes from the woman herself. It was strange to say, but sometimes you felt as if she was preparing you for something unknown. Still, you found it nice to work in tandem with your secondary family. There was never a time you felt unwelcome in the home. A night you spent in Ingo's embrace led to an interesting discussion. "I don't think you need to go to university," he admitted, ear hovering over your beating heart, "Please let Emmet and I take care of you. We're already planning to get our degrees and work with trains, like our father."

"Ingo, I'm not sure I want that," you softly explained, "I think I want to be independent of you both, at least somewhat." Ingo's arms tightened around you as he focused on your heartbeat to calm himself. You knew that was desired by the twin, a stay-at-home partner. It was obvious when you were children, and it was obvious now. "Dear," he shifted on top of you, adoringly looking down at you, "I will make sure you have everything you could want; you will never hunger for anything so long as I may provide." Move in with us after graduation, please." His hips ground into yours and took away your ability to think. You squeezed your eyes closed. Maybe. Maybe you could let them do as they pleased.

They attended your graduation alongside your family. Your classmates seemed terrified by their appearance as they wandered around the auditorium, deeply interested in the schooling they never received. You were going to spend the next week packing your stuff to move with them into an apartment in Nimbasa, where you would be living with them. They are attending a nearby university to the city and will be working so that you may remain at home. A classmate, that same girl from years ago who had pulled you away in tears, spoke to you, "It's not too late. Please reconsider dating those-those, cannibals." She sounded desperate to convince you.

Emmet had approached, however, just in time to catch the end of your encounter. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders. Mercury eyes peered into her very soul as his smile appeared malicious in nature, "What a foul term. Do you mind leaving my adorable partner alone?" She quickly backed away, crumbling under the pressure the younger twin seemingly exerted. What had she meant by that? Cannibals? You shook your head at the weird accusation. Emmet brought you in for a long kiss, resting his forehead against your own after he finally pulled away. "Stay at our place tonight? We should celebrate this properly," his hot breath fanned against your skin. You agreed.

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #yandere ingo x reader #yandere emmet x reader #ingo x reader x emmet #yandere x reader #yandere

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pagingdoctorbedlam · 3 years

Text

Ready for zombies, Zoro, and some hurt/comfort? Then take a swig of this potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event! (But please read the warnings first!)

Characters: Zoro x Reader; appearance by Bartholomew Kuma

Genre: Zombie/Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort (a bit light on the comfort though, woops)

TW/CW: Violence, guns and swords, blood, light gore, mentions of cannibalism, undead bodies

Inspiration: The concept for zombies in this fic is inspired by the novel Breathers by S.G. Browne (at least, what I remember from having read it over 10 years ago...)

Word Count: ~3.1k words

...

"Hold still, we're almost..." You apply the last bit of blush before appraising your handiwork. Not bad, if you said so yourself. At a glance, Zoro doesn't even look dead. "There. Want a mirror to see?"

"I trust you not to doll me up too bad." Roronoa Zoro yawns, even though the legendary zombie hunter no longer needs to sleep, having recently been turned into a zombie himself. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not in and of itself a death sentence. Most zombies act as they did in life, even if their bodies no longer recover the way a living human's does. The danger comes from the zombies who try to stop this decay by feasting on human brains...and sometimes more dangerous are the humans who've decided that every zombie is a ticking time bomb regardless of said zombie's intentions.

At least Zoro had never been that way, but now he's got to hide from the hunters who once considered him a legend. Sure, it wouldn't be hard for him to fight off hunters, even if you've had to stitch each limb back on at least twice (and you're still not sure where one of his eyes ended up). But you'd rather your newfound partner in protecting innocent zombies not cause a scene simply by walking through the market.

"Remember, don't rub your face. This makeup cost me a fortune. And try to fake breathing this time, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it." He manages to take a breath that's believable but isn't so deep that it rattles the loose bones and organs in his slowly decaying chest.

Both of you get to your feet and finish the rest of your preparations for the outside world. Your clothing hides as much skin as possible, even with the warm temperatures outside. You spray Zoro down with cheap cologne so he smells less like roadkill and more like a teenager trying to cover up a bad case of B.O. And you slip on filtration masks in a vain attempt to avoid the ever-present smoke and dust beyond your walls.

No one's sure if the zombies came about because of the bombs, or if the bombs were secretly launched because the powers-that-be learned about the first nascent zombies and failed with their pre-emptive strike. But now much of the world is a wasteland, and bargaining for resources is bad enough without half the population lobbing accusations of cannibalism at the other half. You can't hold off this trip any longer, because you've ended up looking after a number of innocent zombies, and they need medical supplies before they fall apart any further.

You shoo Zoro away from the driver's spot on your motorbike. "Nuh uh buddy, we aren't getting lost today." You've heard a new band of hunters is coming to town, and the last thing you want is to run into them before you have a chance to secure your supplies.

"I don't get lost! They just keep changing where the market is." Zoro still reluctantly waits for you to take your place at the front before he sits behind you and firmly snakes his arms around your waist. You pretend you can feel his pulse when he holds you, even though you know the heart in his chest has long stopped beating.

Markets are supposed to be neutral ground. Everyone needs resources to survive after all, and one of the few things that bombs and zombie outbreaks couldn't kill is commerce. Stalls line the aisles of what was once a grocery store, faded advertisements promoting foods that no one's seen in years, and someone has fixed the speaker system to play the same old pop hits in a vain attempt at normalcy.

You hold tight to Zoro's hand, both to keep him from getting lost and so he stays close in case of danger. He obliges, and even holds bags for you as you pull him around. You might've called this romantic in the times before, back when your purchases would've been far more frivolous than bandages and shelf-stable rations, but you're unsure how close you and Zoro would've been without being thrown together by circumstance.

You pause by one stall, eyes wide. Zoro doesn't notice and keeps walking until he notices that you won't budge. He raises an eyebrow when he finally joins you. "What, some kinda' plastic plant?"

"Not plastic. It's real." You forgive him the mistake though, as the plant has sturdy, waxy leaves that almost look sculpted. It feels like so long since you've seen anything green (aside from Zoro's hair), much less an actual plant. But you note the name scribbled in tape on its battered plastic pot. It's nothing useful, not medicinal or edible in the slightest. Just a begonia that hasn't even bloomed yet.

The shopkeeper asks, "Gonna gawk, or you gonna' buy?"

You know you can't afford a plant, what with how rare they are. You might be able to bargain and beg if it were something more useful, but...

"We'll buy." Zoro slams something down on the table. "This'll be enough?"

You catch the glint of gold peeking from between his fingers. Jewelry isn't useful anymore, but human greed has a hard time giving up old habits. The shopkeeper smiles wide and practically shoves the begonia at you with one hand while snatching up Zoro's earring with the other. You thank him and depart the stall without another word, clutching the flower close to your chest.

"What was that about?" You hiss at Zoro.

"Looked like you wanted it," he says with a shrug. You squint up at his remaining earrings, only to realize that in his haste to remove the one he traded away, he tore the hole in his ear a little in the process. Probably didn't even notice that he'd done so, the stubborn fool...

Well, what's done is done. "Thank you. I'll make sure to take excellent care of it."

"Don't mention it." Which you know is Zoro-speak for "you're welcome". So you smile back at him without saying anything more on the subject, and continue the rest of your trek through the market.

You make the mistake of thinking this is a surprisingly nice day. But you don't realize that someone has noticed how Zoro isn't bleeding.

When Zoro pulls out one sword and tightens his grip around your midsection, you don't have to ask why. You're being followed.

You absently wonder what gave you away. Never removing your masks? A smudge in Zoro's makeup that revealed the deathly pallor underneath? It doesn't really matter, you think. Whoever is after you will chase you down until they can swing their weapons and play at being heroes, so all you can do is fight on your own terms. You avoid going home and swerve the bike toward the burned-out husk of an abandoned store that not even the most desperate zombies would hide in.

You glance at the tilted rearview mirror on your bike. The figures chasing you are hulking brutes, but nothing compared to their ringleader. He's built like a brick house with legs, and his imposing figure is thrown off by the pristine white hat topped with small bear ears. Instead of a holstered weapon, he has a bible strapped to his side. You've heard of this man. Judging by the look in Zoro's eyes, he does too. One of the most notorious zombie hunters in the country: Bartholomew Kuma.

What is he doing here, of all places?

Zoro says, "Soon as we touch down, hide. It's me they want."

"I can't just leave you. You know who that is back there?"

"Doesn't matter. I already died once. They can't do worse than that to me. But they could still hurt you plenty. 'Specially if you came back before they were done with you." In the rearview mirror, Zoro's eyes are sharp and cold as his blades.

You know how to handle a weapon in self-defense, but you're nowhere near the master that Zoro is. And he has a point. You're still human, you can bleed, you can hurt. And that might chew Zoro up worse than anything Kuma and crew could throw at him. You resign yourself to your fate and think of where in that burnt-out building you might be able to hide, preferably while still keeping an ear out for danger.

You speed on, trying to shake your pursuers, but soon the road runs out. The bones of burnt buildings jut out before you like oversized tombstones. You remember scouting here before, trying to usher out displaced zombies before the remnants of the building could collapse on them. Much of the ruins have fallen since you were last here, but there's still a concrete bunker that was once a stockroom, and it's mostly intact. You can lay low there until the fighting's over.

You relay this plan to Zoro, and you tell him, "I'll be safe there, don't worry about me. Once the fighting's done, I'll come back down and patch you up. So don't die on me again, alright?"

Zoro nods, even though he surely knows the claim is more for your comfort than anything. He's a zombie, after all, and they don't heal the way humans do unless they devour human brains. He won't bleed, but if he looses a limb, or even his head? There's nothing you can do to fix that. And to be honest, you're not sure if that'll do him in, or if he'd continue living in pieces. You don't want to find out.

You park. And you know you should hit the ground running, but your heart is hammering in your chest. You turn to Zoro as he pulls out his blades.

You quickly put your warm hands on his cold cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. You two never attached words to what's simmered under the surface for so long, but in case of the worst...you couldn't handle him not knowing how you truly felt. He blinks as you pull away, briefly stunned. You wonder if he'd blush if he could.

You run into the burnt-out husk of a building. The touch of your lips on Zoro's is replaced by a sword between his teeth.

In another lifetime, before people stopped dying right and the world went to hell over it, this building was a clothing store. You shopped here for outfits you haven't seen in years. Once, a friend who worked here snuck you into the back room, and you ate cheap takeout while surrounded by wall-to-ceiling racks of clothing and shoes. If you took time to wipe away the dust, you might still find graffiti left by the workers during their final shifts. You wonder if your friend left one.

You cannot look because you are huddled on a shelf and trying not to make a sound. The shelves are sturdy metal and easy to climb even without the rolling ladder. You're hidden high above the heads of anyone who might come in and pressed against a wall. No one should find you here.

For awhile, you heard sounds from outside. Speaking at first, though you couldn't make out what was being said. Then battle, swords colliding and guns firing. Screams. Then...nothing. You don't know if it's safe to come out. You'll find out soon. There are footsteps approaching.

A voice you do not recognize says your name.

"Roronoa Zoro is dead. Again. I am sorry that it had to happen." Heavy footfalls contrast a voice that is soft, almost even kind. "I understand why you might want to save him. You've built quite a reputation for that, you know. But I'm afraid it ends here. We cannot allow you to keep any more abominations alive. You understand that is what they are, don't you?"

You know he's trying to goad you into revealing yourself. It takes everything in your power to hold still and silent.

Metal crumples nearby with a shrill squeal, as if it could protest its false bones being broken.

"If you were to go on a trip...where would you like to go?"

The question throws you off guard, almost enough for sound to escape your lips.

"We do not have to kill you. All the government wants is to talk. If you cooperate, you'll be transported somewhere safe. Free of zombies, even." More metal crumples, and you wonder how Kuma is doing it. Does he have a weapon, or is he strong enough to break the storage shelves with his bare hands? "All you have to do is come willingly, and when we're done, you can go wherever you'd like, and you'll be kept safe."

But the only place you can think of is home. With Zoro. No matter what might come after you there.

The shelf under you shifts, and your body spasms as if you fell in a dream and awoke with your mind still lurching. You reach for anything to grab onto, but your fingers only touch air. (For the briefest instance, you spy graffiti drawn by a familiar hand upon the wall.)

You do not immediately recognize the feel of the arms, because they are warm and pulsing with life. You stare up at Zoro's face in disbelief. He's missing an eye and his face is smeared with blood, mouth drawn in a thin line.

"You survived," Kuma intones softly. "You ate them." And you wish you could refute him, but even before he spoke, you knew it to be true. Zoro's bloody fingers dig into your clothes to hold you tight. You hear his heartbeat for the first time, and it rarely skips a beat. Kuma says, "Let your friend down, Roronoa. You don't want to do this."

"Think I'm some mindless cannibal? Think again." Zoro sets you down and looks you dead in the eye. "Told you I wouldn't die. And neither will you. Now, get out of here." Half a second before returning his sword to his mouth, his tongue flickers over his blood-stained lips. "Hurry!"

You do as he asks and flee to the doorway of the building. You know you should run to the motorcycle and drive out of here, but there are two problems with that. One is how you don't want to leave Zoro again. The other is that even if you admit the truth to yourself, that he finally gave in and consumed the brains of his enemies like the zombies he used to put down...you don't want to turn around and see what he did to the corpses of Kuma's followers.

The fight is swift and brutal. You've seen Zoro fight before, but while he's normally a whirlwind with his blades, now he's a demonic torrent. Much as he tries to stick to his traditional fighting forms, they slip into more instinctual slashes when Kuma pushes back, and the only thing that keeps Zoro on top is sheer ferocity. He moves so fast, you swear he's slashing three times faster than a normal man, leaving the afterimages of a three-faced demon. (You've heard rumors of zombies growing entirely new parts when they've eaten too much mortal flesh, but surely those are only rumors, survivors not understanding what they're seeing...)

Kuma is far quicker than his size would suggest. But even he begins to buckle. He blocks one blade with a bible far sturdier than it appears, and then lunges forward in a final desperate attack. Zoro braces to parry an attack, but is taken aback as no blow comes. Something metal and blinking is clasped onto his wrist.

"We will not meet again."

And Kuma is gone. You blink in surprise. You swore you didn't see him leave through the other holes in the building, didn't feel anyone pass you, and yet...

The normally composed swordsman growls as he sheathes his swords and tries to pry the blinking metal bangle (a tracking device, what else could it be?) off his arm. You want to approach him, but are unsure if you should; all you can do is watch as he uselessly paws at the bangle. Until he stops suddenly. You catch a glimpse of fresh crimson.

Zoro freezes as the reality of what he's done, what he's become, finally settles in. He's a statue slowly dripping red, most of which isn't his own. His breath shudders, and that too takes him off-guard. He sways where he stands, almost falling to his knees but somehow staying upright.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet carry you toward him, and you reach out. Your fingers brush against his back. He growls, "Don't. I'm not..."

"It doesn't matter what you are. You're still Zoro."

Gentle pushes at his shoulders turn him around so he faces you. His face has more color than you've ever seen, blood red and flesh pink and mottled blues and violets of bruises. His closed eyelid twitches as the eye underneath regenerates. How long will it be until all the color's gone, and electrical impulses run short to leave his heart to hang heavy and empty in his chest, and how much longer than that until he gets a taste for life again regardless of the cost?

That doesn't matter right now. The future looms taller and more frightening than Kuma, but right now, you're two scared humans in a broken warehouse. You wrap your arms around Zoro and pull him close.

For the briefest moment, you feel his mouth open, hear the click in his jaw. His teeth brush against your ear. You close your eyes and refuse to think about it.

His chin rests on your shoulder. Mouth closed. Arms wrap around you right and your hearts beat together, lungs scramble for air together, blood and worry (and tears, you think, but you're not sure whose) intermingle and crawl to a slow stop until only a numb and temporary peace remains.

"You'd be forgiven for walking away." His voice is raw and tired with the weight of living again and all that took.

"Maybe. But someone has to keep you from getting lost." You give him one final squeeze before letting him go. "Come on. Let's go home and get you cleaned up."

When morning comes, you'll have to face what the future holds for a brain-eating swordsman and the one who looks out for him despite it all. But tonight, the both of you are miraculously alive and breathing, and there's a green new plant in the window ready to soak up all the sunlight tomorrow can offer.

#seas brew a love potion challenge #opfanfic #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zombie au #hurt/comfort #bedlam writes

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