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#Break a leg!au lore
kibbits · 9 months
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Time to share some Starry lore because I’ve got a cute scene in mind. I love to vocal stim, sounds, phrases, but particularly songs. I’ll hear a song that feels just right and I’ll sit and chew it for hours til my throat’s sore. Currently favorite is The Valentine in Starfield (Is it still a sea shanty if it’s in space?). The reason I bring this fun fact up is because I can just see myself sitting for hours stimming with boys over new songs. Especially if it’s any new pieces for the theater. While the scripts and lyrics are predesigned by Fazbear, there’s something unquestionably their’s in performance that make it worth repeating. Worth remembering. Humming through daily tasks. Parroting their tone, their voice. Another sign of their existence that’s more then the capacity to destroy, then just simple property… They do end up being slightly upset when the Glamrocks try to introduce their songs to stimming sessions. (Sun/Moon: “That’s my human bonding time :(“ Monty: “Get cooler song selections then Sock and Buskin.” Freddy: “Pls do not misuse google search privileges to make insults.”)
- ✨Starry✨
Starry, hi!!! <33
!!!! HELL yes I echo songs a lot too!!!!
Unfortunately often 1-3 lines on repeat fgklgjkldfjg currently it's Villainous Thing, but I keep mixing "Let me see those smoky eyes" and "Let's remove those pretty clothes" and I end up singing "Oh dear, let's remove those smoky eyes" which. not the same fgkldjl
STARRY?! HELLO?! YOU REALLY GOT ME TEARING UP OVER THAT DESCRIPTION AAAA?!?! Also ABSOLUTELY -- for both the stimming, and making the songs their own.
God I'm imagining it so hard.
Eyndr suggested I draw a 'Y/N repairing the coat' last magma, and I haven't posted it cause I never got done, but yknow what? You get a WIP sketch fgkldgj Imagine they're singing
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(Goose by Eyndr! Sun is stimming with a ribbon, like I do, except that I like to wrap it around the pads of my fingers, but he doesn't have those, so he has the bad habit of letting it run between his finger casings. Also I wanted a domestic vibe for this and also thought it'd be hilarious to have 'fanservice' with Sun being shirtless. Also, a more masculine Y/N! First beard I've drawn I think???)
One of the three absentmindedly starts a song and the others join in almost immediately. Unless it's a headache day, the backstage is never silent between those three, there's always a bit of humming or singing or even just echolalia.
Which. Mood. I always immediately and absentmindedly want to join in on sounds or singing in vc -- which. being in vc at all, and talking?? is a new development for me fgjdgkl but my god it's nice to be vibing and singing with a friend while doodling -- shout out to my bestie @eyndr ! I love hanging out for games or project days so much aa One day discord and spotify won't make us sing rounds/canons fghdj
ALSO HELLO YES SPACE SHANTIES?!?!!? TWO OF MY FAVORITE THINGS LET'S GO I'M LEAVING RN TO GO LISTEN BRB
Ough that's nice!!! I loved it! ; w ; Ehehe, I tend to have work songs/sea shanties days where that's all I listen to, so I getcha and good choice! > :3 Haven't played that game, but I do play No Man's Sky and I wish there was random space shanty singers to find waugh!
Also now I'm totally imagining a Faz Space Opera yeeesss 👀👀👀
Back to BaL! Sometimes, for fun, all 3 purposefully mess with the cadence or pitch, either to make each other laugh or just to get creative or because it sounds nice, and they end up liking something and it's like "!!!!"
When they sing that version later, it feels like theirs -- like it's those moments spent together. Proof of their existence and how it affects the world around them positively. Reminders that they're loved, and they love (in a cosmic kind of way, but also it's a self insert so fuck it we BaLl (aaaay finally used the joke @lavenoon fgjdfklgjld).
Also yeee I can see them being really, ACTUALLY insulted when one of the animatronics, who doesn't know because those little sing-stimming sessions are private with Y/N, jokes about how those songs are lame and they should be singing some of theirs instead because they're catchier. Oof
Which, just now, made me realize that BaL Sun's anger runs cold, so he just goes totally silent, straightens up and get that intense stare. Maybe Moon's even the one who talks through the speaker to deflect and does that overly-sweet anger of like "Catchy, huh? Hopefully we don't catch those inflated egos of yours -- there's barely enough space for all of us and your big heads as it is! We'll come back later~!" to excuse themselves (and then prank them to hell and back of course! But there's no proof : )) ) (ALSO OH MY GOD SOCK AND BUSKIN THAT'S FUCKING GOLD. THAT'S SO CANON NOW AND THE BOYS THINK IT'S HILARIOUS)
Back to the singing, I think that another thing that they do especially well is that they can sing at the same time, so even for solos they can add back vocals to each other, or play around with the pitch since they do-and-don't share a processor and can adapt in microseconds -- wait actually they can definitely sing rounds, too!!
Oh my god now I'm imagining them singing rounds with vastly different moods at the same time, perfectly calibrated so that both of them come out loud and clear and also enhance each other's -- lining up or losing one of their voices at just the right moment to be chilling. It's like you're getting the song and the reprise but both at once
Thanks for the ask Starry!!! Always excited to see you in my inbox <33 And I'm going to be rotating this in my mind for a WHILE fkljdgjkld
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queenimmadolla · 3 months
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
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previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)
Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.
Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.
a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!
light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡
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“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.
  You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort. 
  Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door. 
  “Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:
 1.) Pitchforks and Torches.
2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.
3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it. 
  Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.
  The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you. 
  Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?
  “Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”
  He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.
  “Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”
  “So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”
  The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.
  Interesting.
  “No brains?”
  Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”
  “Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”
  He did the choppy shoulder raise he’d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.” 
  Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.
  Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.
  Why you? What did he want with you?
  You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.
  “What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”
  He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.
  Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you. 
  It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.
  Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.
  “That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.
  He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans. 
  While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals. 
  You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive. 
  “UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.
  You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm. 
  With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.
  “Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”
  You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering. 
  Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.
  “So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”
  He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up. 
  Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.
  Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.
  Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.
  You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.
  “Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.
  “I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”
  The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”
  And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.
  “Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”
  God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.
  Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.
  You’d made him cry.
  “Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”
  You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.
  Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.
  You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate. 
  “MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”
  You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.
  Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.
  She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.
  You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”
  You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.
  Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.
  Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall. 
  You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.
  “There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”
  You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”
  This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”
  He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.
  “SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.
  You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.
  The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.
  Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.
  “Are you laughing at me?”
  He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.
  “Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers. 
  “Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”
  You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.
  You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.
  “You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you. 
  You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.
  “You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.
  “Uunngh.”
  You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.
  “That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”
  You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.
  “UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”
  “What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”
  He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.
  “They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”
  Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.
  You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”
  He just blinked, almost owlishly. 
  Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.
  “The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”
  You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.
  Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.
  You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.
  “Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.
  An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact. 
  “Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”
  Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.
  Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.
  “You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.
  The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.
  You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.
  He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.
  “You tryna knock me dead, too?”
  When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.
  The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.
  When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.
  If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.
  You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.
  To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”
  Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound. 
  With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.
  They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.
  “Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”
  You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror. 
  “Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.
  “Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.
  Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound. 
  “Oh. Noticed that, did you?”
  His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.
  “I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”
  Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.
  You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”
  Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.
  You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.
  “WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name. 
  “I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.
  Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.
  “I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.
  He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.
  “You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”
  Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.
  “Me?! I didn’t do this!”
  “Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.
  “The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.
  “Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”
  “Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.
  “Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.
  “Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”
  The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”
  “I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”
  “She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.
  “Daddy…”
  “Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!” 
  You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself. 
  “Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward. 
  Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”
  ”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.
  “She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.
  “No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.
  You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this. 
  You’d have a loving parent. 
  You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do. 
  Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?
  With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.
  You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.
  It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it. 
  The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life. 
  Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.
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  When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.
  A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.
  With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”
  Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.
  “I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.
  “Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.
  “We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”
  The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.
  “Dang—anything else?”
  “Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside. 
  Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.
  You were wrong. 
  The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.
  For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous. 
  You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!
  “Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.
  “You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”
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  Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors. 
  You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.
  So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance. 
  He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.
  Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.
  Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.
  Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering. 
  Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore. 
  You found him. 
  Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.
  And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.
  He understood the sentiment all too well. 
  Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.
  When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.
  With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead. 
  And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.
  I wish I was with you.
  You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.
  Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave. 
  Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple. 
  No sign of his uncle.
  It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded. 
  Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct. 
  He knew where to go after.
  Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all. 
  Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him. 
  He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.
  Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.
  Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.
  Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.
  Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests. 
  So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be. 
  The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you. 
  He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery. 
  FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?
  What kind of fucked up existance was this?!
  All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—
  Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze. 
  It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left. 
  Eddie heard a scoff.
  “How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself. 
  Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around. 
  The fuck was she doing in here?
  It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through. 
  Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings. 
  She was invading your privacy.
  If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling. 
  He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.
  And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either. 
  Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse. 
  If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.
  Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.
  Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip. 
  Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.
  Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made. 
  Bitch.
  Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.
  He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day. 
  See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of.  Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.
  He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.
  His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.
  “Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned. 
  He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.
  “Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.
  “Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure. 
  “Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.
  “I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp. 
  “EXCUSE ME?!” 
  The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her. 
  Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.
  He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?
  It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.
  Served the hag right.
  With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.
  Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream. 
  That one was for you.
  Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.
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  You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision. 
  While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did. 
  You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive. 
  Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.
  Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.
  No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.
  Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—
  “You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”
  You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.
  Oh, god. Just play it cool.
  “Just some tampons and some chips.” 
  Leave. Walk out. Save face.
  “No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk. 
  You were going for it. 
  “Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.
  “I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve. 
  You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”
  “Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”
  “I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.
  “That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.
  “And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.
  “I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.
  “Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.
  Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.” 
  Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”
  You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”
  Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”
  It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.
  “You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”
  Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”
  “And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”
  You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off. 
  She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”
  How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”
  “She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”
  All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV. 
  You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life. 
  “Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”
  Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”
  Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed. 
  At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!
  With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you. 
  You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.
  She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.
  It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.
  But it was yours.
  When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs. 
  You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.
  Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.
  “Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”
  “Uuungh?”
  You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.
  “I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.
  Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.
  “Unngh.” He grunted in thanks. 
  As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”
  Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”
  “Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”
  You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.
  “He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”
  You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling. 
  “You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions. 
  “There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”
  You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.
  Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population. 
  “Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”
  Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand. 
  “What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”
  Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.
  “I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”
  “MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.
  “Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”
  He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.
  Laura.
  “SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.
  You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.
  And for once, she scared you.
  “Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.
  Stepmother from hell, indeed.
  “Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured. 
  You took a small step back. She took one forward.
  “I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick. 
  “Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.
  Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”
  Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?
  “ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.
  All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.
  Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction. 
  “Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”
  “You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.
  “Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”
  Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”
  Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”
  “Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life. 
  Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.
  You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.
  She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.
  “I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.
  Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed. 
  “No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.
  “It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—
  THUNK.
  Laura let out the smallest of gasps.
  You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red. 
  Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.
  Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet. 
  You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.
  “Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.
  Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.
  “Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.
  When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.
  You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.
  ”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.
  Eddie had rescued you.
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Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs. 
  Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.
  You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.
  The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it. 
  After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it. 
  “Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you. 
  He shook his head. 
  “Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.
  When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.
  While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work. 
  Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
  “Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”
  Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head. 
  “Mm-mm.”
  You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.
  You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice. 
  He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even. 
  It felt…like you mattered to someone.
  “I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”
  Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs. 
  “At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.” 
  He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way. 
  “Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.
  Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”
  “Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand. 
  “What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb. 
  Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger. 
  “Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you. 
  Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle. 
  A lightning bolt. 
  Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.
  An Eddie Was Here, if you will.
  And then it hit you. Lightning.
  “OH.”
  Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.
  “But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”
  You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”
  Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.
  Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it. 
  It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.
  You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure. 
  You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual. 
  The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.
  You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”
  He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.
  “Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”
  Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.
  Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.
  “Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”
  No reaction. 
  “EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”
  To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”
  Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.
  It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.
  “Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!” 
  You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad. 
  The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.
  You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.
  Well, you’d already started. 
  “I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”
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ja3honey · 7 months
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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 [𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫] - 𝐂.𝐒 ♡
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My Everything
【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.
『Word count』 : 2.14k
-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au
Paring: Gargoyle!San x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Fake names. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.
Note : The long awaited demon San is here. I'll be honest I was so busy i didn't get time to write this fic, and when Kinktober rolled around, i thought it was what better time than now. So thank you, everyone from this poll for everyone picking San for this concept.
This story is my own flare of the original creators' webcomic. So the lore, characters, and other story design have been tweaked and changed to fit what i wanted to write. Make sure to check out the original author of this wild story.
I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane . Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place. ♡♡♡
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List
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You ran faster than your legs could carry you, nearly slipping over even bend and turn you took. The pouring rain had soaked your tunic and all of your undergarments. Your shoes were also squelching with every stomp your feet did. You were in a panic, frantically praying that he would be alright. The priest of your village warned you―more like threatened you―about involving yourself with the devil as he put it. ‘Those beasts are not to be trusted. They are demons in disguise. Filth. Inhuman.’
You obviously ignored the old man, having no time with such lies. That beast was the most kindest creature you know. He was more caring than any human you've ever met. He understood you, heard you, got to know you. Everyone in the village only looked at you as the witch's daughter, the spawn of the devil herself. You were nothing and the only way to be something was to submit. Be one with god, marry the priest and prove you were devoted to the lord.
“Sun! Sun where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Sun was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?
You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Sun’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.
“I can’t leave you Sun. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”
Your yelp got the demon's attention, making him stand at all his height. His fanged mouth growled, annoyed but also riddled with guilt. He would never thought the night he had with you was a mistake. Frankly, it was one, if not the best moment in his lifetime. But he needed to keep his distance from you. He needed you safe. Protected, alive. And he was something that was unable to do so. He was filth. A demon. You are this light. Innocent human. He shouldn’t, he can’t be the one that taints such a delicate flower. “Darling, please. I… I can’t.”
You stomped over to his form pushing on his strong broad chest. He fell with little effort landing on the wet concrete, soaking the fabric that wrapped around his waist. He could have held his ground not letting you move his large body with such ease, but he didn’t want to. He needed you close no matter how hard his mind was fighting him. You wasting no time in locking your lips against his. If talking wasn’t going to work then you were going to show him that he was meant for you. You needed him like the air you breathe and he wasn’t about to make the choice to die and leave you alone on this earth without you trying your best to stop him.
“Don’t leave me.” You whispered against his lips, feeling his long demonic tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned climbing the creature so your legs dangled over each of his crossed thighs. His hand, the same width as your waist, held tightly on your hip while the other cupped your face, holding you firmly in place. His tongue abused your own for a moment, basking in the rain now only lightly pouring. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving from yours, to your jaw, and then to your collarbone.
“I’ll never leave you my flower. I promise. I’m sorry.” His voice was raw, filled with pain and sorrow. He would never want you to fear such a thing but in toe, had made the fear brew from his outburst. You slide down off his lap falling in between his thighs. Your fingers quickly fumble with his cloth before tugging his growing cock free. The cold rain pouring down made the demon hiss, but your warm hands made his mind spin. Your fingers could barely wrap around the almost hardened cock. Now looking at him probably you now wonder how it even fitted in you in the first place. Your mouth took his tip, jaw aching at the sheer size of him. but you bushed forwards sucking on him making him groan, dipping his head backwards. Your mouth felt amazing even if you couldn’t take him whole. Your whimpers and gags vibrated on his cock in the perfect way and your harsh grip was sending him over the edge. “fuck, if you keep going I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”
His growl went straight to your pussy, making you try and take more of him in your mouth, letting saliva drip down your chin, soaking his cock along with his precum. You used one hand to continue stroking him while you used another to slip under your soaked dress, pressing your fingers firmly on your clit. Your moans were the perfect missing piece to send him over the edge, emptying his hot seed down your throat. “Fuck!!” his hand that held your face snaked and tighten in your hair, holding your still as he jerked his hips slightly. You pulled away making some of his juices squirt out on your face.
God, was it a sight to see.
Your wide eyes looking at him with nothing but devotion while covered in his cum.  How did he ever get so lucky finding you in such a cruel dark world? He sat up quickly, ripping all the fabric on your body, throwing the drenched tattered material somewhere across the garden. His huge hands gripped our thighs tugging you up until you sat on his chest, feeling some of your juices leak out onto his scarred body. You felt embarrassed, but your lover couldn’t think about anything in that moment other than having your pussy over his face. So with his insane strength, he lauds you forward, letting your cunt meet his lips. He pushed you down light so your body could lay on top of his while on your back. Tilting your face to the right you see his hardening cock twitch. His long demonic tongue licked a strip up your slit making your whole body visibly shivers. Your nails digging into his hips trying to hold onto any part of his giant frame. “Ffffucckk please!”
His tongue enters you, fucking you slowly as one of his hands lays flat on your tummy pushing pressure onto your body and making your toes curl. His other hand that still gripped tightly on your inner thigh opens slightly so his large thumb could reach your clit, pressing harshly on your nub. He could eat you for hours and never get tired of the way your body moves, the way it responds to every touch he gives or the way you moan and whimper his name over and over again. It was like an angel singing. Elegant, perfect and pure
“Hmm come.” His voice was almost not audible as he kept eating you like a starved beast making the vibrations hit just the right spot to send you reeling over the edge. He gave you no time to relax after your high though as your demonic lover picked you up with no effort at all and bend you over the concrete statue seat that he would sit at for centuries waiting for freedom. All your clothing had been ripped and torn away at this point leaving you completely baring in the cold dark night. The rain had not stopped but only got lighter for a moment before pouring some more. You would surely get sick after this encounter if you were not to leave at this moment. But neither of you made an effort to find shelter or privacy. No, he needed you now just as much as you to him. “Deep breaths Darling.”
His deep grumble was almost lost under the loud blanket of rain echoing in the night. But luckily you hear him, taking a deep breath, steadying yourself on the rock. The tip of his cock rubbed against your soaked folds, before inching in slowly. The burn was pleasurable but still painful. But you couldn’t care at this moment. Another inch went in and the demon had to pace himself, screaming over and over in his mind not to just snap his hips, making you take his cock in one quick swoop. No, he needed patience, even though he was no patient creature. But he managed to find some, only for you. Once he was able to completely bottoming you out. You were both a panting and moaning mess. Your whines didn’t stop as he started to buck his hips in and out. In and out. Testing the waters, seeing what you could handle. And once he saw a green light, his grip on your hips tightened as he began to ruthlessly fuck you against the rough concrete.
Your screams caught the breeze, shattering through the heavy sound of rain. He had turned you around in one single movement need to to feel your body close to his. Your legs couldn’t even wrap fully around your lovers huge waist as he continued fuck you hard and quick.
“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”
It didn’t take you long for your band in your tummy to tighten. You were so close to the edge and you needed just a little extra. Just a little more. And The demon seemed to read your body like his favourite book, pinching your clit with his large fingers you whaled his name squirting all over his cock. “PLease fuck argh. Your cock is so good. Fuckkk.”
He growled like an animal, latching his sharp teeth on your soft shoulder, wrapping his muscular arms around your tiny human frame. He picked you up, fucking upwards in a new angle. Your body was like a rag doll, letting him fuck you in any position he seemed fit.  His wings caged you, almost like he was protecting you while he also ruining you.
For a beast that seemed to only want to fuck, he cared so much about you. Without him ever saying it, he knew you were the love of his life and he was willing to die for you. Heck, he had already killed for you. And he could kill again if you asked. No matter what the code says about demons hurting humans. He would gladly serve an eternal sentence if it means hurting the ones who hurt you first.
“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”
“Yes, yes. Please. Give it to me.” and with your soft submissive cries he came deep in your cunt. Filling your full. His come mixed with yours, spilling down his legs, before washing away on the wet floor. His cock slipped out of you but he did not let you down. No, he opened his wings and took off towards the castle without another world. He held you tightly as you watched the garden where he had just defiled you disappear into your view. He was taking you back to his den. The home he had to made for himself. Away from any human or beast's eye.
Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.
-♥︎
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denim-wizard · 2 months
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My Little... Pirates? ((Aka I succumb to making a One Piece MLP AU)) ( part 1 // part 2 )
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It always starts as a style experiment or practice drawing something new of some sort but tbh there is a darkness within me that is steadily brewing anyways HEY Y'ALL WANT. HEADCANONS? (this took me weeks to finally finish and post)
Introducing the pirate captain Monkey Do, first mate Zephyr Roar , and the fighting-cook Blackhoof Sanji (aka Devil Dancer) Coming up with names is Hard. Let's talk about these fools a little bit, with lots of headcanon to spare. Monkey Do ( aka Monkey D. Luffy) is our earth pony protagonist, and is largely unchanged. His cutiemark is a top down view of his iconic straw hat (or... is it? Some might say it looks a bit like a sun...) and his special talent is leadership. Earthponies are known for many things, and Luffy encompasses those qualities wholly-- he's loyal and strong, and has an endless appetite. an appettite that still contains a frankly concerning amount of meat. This little pony is not a harbivore. Zephyr Roar (aka Roronoa Zoro, or just 'Zoro' as Monkey Do calls him) is a pegasus who's special talent is the self invented three-sword-style. Yes he holds the other two with his wings. No he does not fly. Zoro's a real special guy like that. He largerly perfers to face his enemies on the ground, turning that pegasi speed into pure power. He's mean, he's green, and he thinks dust baths constitute as real bathing. Blackhoof, aka Devil Dancer (Sanji) is a unicorn who's special talent is cooking. His magic gives him a serious wallop in battle, and the old fashioned metal shoes let his superheated kicks pack even more of a punch. His natural magic is fire, and his time on Momoiro helped him learn real levitation, two traits that are just as powerful in the kitchen as they are on the battlefield. For all the stereotypes about unicorns that he breaks, Dancer enforces just as many-- he's prissy, wears fancy clothes, and he even shaves the fluffy fetlocks on his front legs to avoid contaimination while cooking. He's also got a taste for sweet things-- if the lollipop stick in his mouth was any indication. (if he still sounds like the godawful 4kids dub is for you to decide)
That's all I've got to say about these guys for now, and I hope you enjoy--I watched mlp as a kid and now that it's making it's resurgence I feel like I have a weird amount of thoughts about it. Headcanon and lore explanations my beloved. my ask box is always open, feel free to tell me who you'd like to see next. commissions open soon, hopefully
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wolfiesmoon · 5 months
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Ice skate date?
TWST x gn!reader
characters featured: riddle, azul, ruggie
since i am obsessed with the concept of teaching (almost) grown men how to skate, i return with brainrot (twst edition)
but then again i have a feeling that a lot of the characters have no idea how to ice skate (due to various reasons I'll get into here) . if there happen to be any events or lore where the characters actually know how to ice skate consider this to be a fun little au where they dont
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。°✩ ⋆⁺。 Riddle Rosehearts
There's no time for useless things when you want to achieve perfection.
That's what Riddle's mom told him when he expressed interest in anything but studying. She had every minute detail planned out and a "useless hobby" would not fit in.
Therefore, Riddle never learned how to ice skate. You can imagine he has his reservations about going to the rink with you.
After a bit of convincing and lots of reassuring him that you won't laugh under any circumstance, he begrudgingly agreed to go.
As soon as he stepped on the ice, he felt unsafe, like he might fall over at any moment but you quickly held out your arm for him to hang onto.
"Thanks." He looked a little startled which almost made you laugh but you shouldn't break a promise.
His grip on your arm tightened as he attempted to glide across the ice beside you. Seems he's really afraid of falling.
"Relax, you'll pull my arm off if you squeeze it that hard." You reminded him gently. You have a feeling you understand why he's so determined to not fall even once and avoiding the stares of curious children.
His grip on your arm loosened but that made him stumble on the ice and almost fall over and he immediately gripped you again. At this point you're worried you'll lose circulation.
"Riddle, it's fine if you fall. You shouldn't worry too much." You smiled, remembering how you used to fall a lot back when you were first learning to ice skate.
"Even I still fall on the ice a lot. This is nothing like a magic history exam, you don't need to be perfect. There's no way to be completely perfect here, anyways."
"I know that. Do not patronize me." Riddle huffed, leaning onto you more and attempting to slide on the ice properly.
"I was not." You wondered if you were too vague with your advice. Did he even get what you meant to say?
Actually, now that you take another look at him, he looks more relaxed and at ease. "Riddle, you idiot. You don't have to act so modest when you're glad I understand you." You thought to yourself, looking lovingly at his determined face.
。°✩ ⋆⁺。 Azul Ashengrotto
Honestly, where would he learn to ice skate under the sea? He never even used legs until his teenage years, so ice skating was completely out of the question until now.
That being said, he felt less than confident stepping on the ice.
It was still water, but he didn't like it in this solid form. It was much too slippery and unpredictable for his liking.
"Come here! You can do it! Come on!" You were standing around 5 metres to his right, beckoning him to come over as if he's a toddler who's just learning how to properly walk.
"Drop the babytalking, please." he was definitely not amused which only made you giggle harder.
"Oh, but I was so benevolent as to help you learn how to ice skate. What a shame that my help is so unnapreciated." you did your best Azul impression.
"Wow. I would compliment your acting skills if this wasn't completely innacurate and used to make fun of me." despite that, he managed to somehow make his way to your side, stumbling a few times.
You smiled cheekily, pointing at the edge. "Hold onto that. And onto me too, if you want." He did as you insctructed, looking a little nervous and unsure.
A little kid passed by the two of you, staring curiously at Azul. It must be a little weird to see someone so old just learning how to ice skate for the first time. You anticipated the little children staring.
You could feel him squeeze your arm slightly tighter at that and he seemed to be looking outside the ice rink, avoiding your eyes.
You gently took his hand.
"It's fine. Don't think about it too hard."
You felt him stiffen for a moment.
"You're honestly pretty scary sometimes, you know that?" you had no idea in what sense he meant that since he still didn't look your way. But you have a feeling his cheeks are pink right now.
Doesn't matter either way since he squeezed your hand lovingly.
。°✩ ⋆⁺。 Ruggie Bucchi
"Aw man, I just can't get this right." You helped Ruggie up for what felt like the hundreth time. He had free time this weekend so you suggested ice skating, to which he immediately told to he doesn't know how to.
Thinking back on it, it makes complete sense that he wouldn't know how to ice skate. The Sunset Savanna is a very warm nation so snow doesn't fall there and Ruggie didn't exactly grow up in the best living conditions either so he wouldn't have been able to afford a trip to a colder nation anyways.
"You'll get it soon enough." He didn't seem dejected at all even after all the failed attempts to keep up with you, which was nice to see.
"I hope I do, or Leona will get mad at me for being late to tuck him in."
"I still can't get over how ridiculous that is. Tuck him in? What is he, a toddler?" You sighed, catching him when he stumbled over and he thanked you cheekily.
"King's orders, what can ya do." He shrugged. He thinks he's almost got the hang of it now. That's a good thing. Very very good.
"Why are you so determined to learn by today? You know we can always come back some other time." you held his hand, helping him keep balance.
"Isn't it obvious? It's cuz I wanna go on an ice skating date with you. A proper one!" he grinned widely at you, feeling proud of himself.
"Okay, you romantic." you rolled your eyes playfully. The closest you'll get to an "ice skating date" is a beginner skating class for teenagers. Atleast in this short time frame.
But you have to admit, the way he said it with so much determination was downright adorable and almost made you want to cover the rental ice skate fee. Almost.
He'll probably conjure up some insane scheme to avoid paying for them anyways. Which makes you worry about getting in trouble with not just the school, but also the law.
You should probably hold him back this time, huh.
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purplepixel · 5 months
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What if the turtles were in the pokemon world? And what if they were never turtles, but in fact, mutated pokemon? What if they lived in the Castelia sewers of Unova instead of New York?
Meet my Rise/Pokemon AU!! Waaaah this has been on my mind for MONTHS now. Pokemon is that one fixation that'll never leave me. I'm THAT pokemon fan that knows WAAAAY too much about the games and lore. For those that don't know,
Raph is Drednaw
Leo is Wartortle
Mikey is Torkoal
Donnie is Lapras
Yes. They are all shiny. I started with raph, since him as drednaw is pretty much a no brainer. The shiny form fit too well with him and his color scheme. Than I realized if I made him shiny, I had to make the other bros shiny as well so THEY ALL SHINY. (draxum shiny hunter confirmed?) Also dual rock typing fits well with raph's character.
Wartortle for leo was also a pretty obvious choice. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. Long flowy tail? Yes please. I had to keep his markings somehow. Wartortle has little dark cheek spots, so I just changed them to be leo's markings. Water typing leo. Go with the flow, think on the spot, it worked out too well.
Torkoal for Mikey was another easy one. Fire turtle? Passionate, warm, also DANGEROUS (he can be a menace ok) Say no more. His powers in rise are already pyro related. Also having him shiny helped a lot with the color scheme. Torkoal is normally orange so having mikey be the yellow shiny form meant I didn't have to mess with his mask colors
Donnie on the other hand....OHHH BOI I STRUGGLED WITH YOU. I went through 4 DIFFERENT POKEMON, before deciding on the least turtle like of them all. I am aware that we do have a softshell pokemon with enamorous, but it's a legendary so thats not happening. But it was really important for me to keep donnie's soft shell and battle shell. I wanted this to be a RISE au and donnie's battle shell is pretty tied into his character. (there's also tirtouga which I almost went with, but I didn't like that both he and raph shared the exact same dual typing) Soooo, Lapras. Its more of a loch ness monster but it also draws inspiration from a placochelys (prehistoric seaturtle esque species) so IM COUNTING IT. Very unconventional but I have my reasons. Ice typing is a good offensive type, but is pretty bad defensively. Which ties into rise donnie's fighting style. If I wasn't a coward, I wouldve made donnie the biggest of the bros. Since lapras is like 8 feet tall compared to the others being like 1-3 feet. But uhhh, I swear I have an in universe explanation for why he's so small ok.
And than there's April. She is not a pokemon trainer in this au. At least not in the traditional sense. I've been with pokemon for all of my 26 years of life, and I always wanted to know what the normal people of the pokemon world are up to. Not everyone is out here collecting gym badges, travelling, or catching them all. How do non-trainers interact with the pokemon world? So that's where I'm at with April. She will get a pokemon partner, but other than that, she's just an average high schooler who befriended the turtles from a young age and takes part in all their shenanigans. I took some design elements from rosa and hilbert with her outfit, but otherwise its pretty much the same.
We'll see how far I'll take this. I've been using this as a break from my many other projects, but like everything I do, it grew too many legs and is slowly becoming its own thing.
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starhvney · 2 months
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𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: garroth, laurance, travis, dante, zane, katelyn, & nana
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: what i think they'd be like on a roadtrip!
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, slice of life
𝐂𝐖: none!
𝐀/𝐍: i miss going on roadtrips i haven't been on one in so long
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇
☆ calls shotgun immediately and insists it’s his spot for the rest of the trip (oldest sibling syndrome)
☆ always buys something at every rest stop, whether it’s an icee, chips, or some stupid trinket
☆ bought a key chain one time that flashed the words “bad boy” on it because he thought it was so funny. he was devastated when it stopped working one day
☆ likes being the gps guy because sometimes he’ll find a cool place to stop and check out on the way (to make the most of the trip, of course)
☆ talks about town lore when you pass through somewhere interesting
𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
☆ he has the best road trip playlist and made sure to plan out how long it was depending on how far you’re traveling
☆ honestly he’s probably the one driving for most of the trip if not all of it, he finds driving relaxing and also doesn’t trust other people to drive safely
☆ likes to play fun talking games like never have i ever or would you rather, or just talking about life
☆ will play the license plate game or i spy to stay alert
☆ if he’s not talking he’s really enjoying the playlist
☆ if the road trip is super long he’ll agree to switch out of driving for a bit to take a nap
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒
☆ is really invested in the license plate game
☆ he’s always cracking jokes and is definitely the type of guy to look in other people’s windows on the road and guess their life story
☆ gets invested when a car sticks with yours for a long time and gets dramatic when they finally split away
☆ plays multiplayer games on his phone with whoever wants to play or sends memes to the group chat (you guys are literally in the same car)
☆ will suddenly start discussing conspiracy theories or will tell ghost stories about the towns you pass through
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 
☆ he’s either talking the whole time or passed tf out no in between
☆ says “i could go for some fast fast food right now” literally anytime you guys pass a fast food restaurant
☆ also cracks jokes and will add on to travis’s guesses on the lives of oblivious travelers
☆ makes really exaggerated and out of place guesses because he thinks it’s funny
☆ it’ll be a grandma driving in her old chrysler and he goes “how much you wanna bet she’s got a pound of weed in her trunk”
☆ like man what the hell are you talking about
𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄
☆ irritated if people are talking too much (dante and travis)
☆ puts on noise canceling headphones and only tunes back in if food or a rest stop is involved (he’s busy listening to my little pony infection au lore/j)
☆ has a pillow, blanket, and hoodie on at all times for maximum comfort
☆ another sleeper. surprisingly doesn’t mind if you use him as a pillow or ask to share his blanket, he’s really comfy with all those layers on
☆ will lightly shove you away if you start moving too much, though
𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍
☆ pretty chill the whole time as usual
☆ sits in the very back and mostly will watch the scenery
☆ she brings a book or watches a movie, and doesn’t mind sharing her headphones with you to watch it together 
☆ unless you’re traveling in a car with tv screens installed, then she has a small travel case with a ton of burned cds (if you know you know) and everyone can join in
☆ if she gets tired of socializing with everyone she puts in some earbuds and takes a nap
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀
☆ packs a whole bag of snacks and homemade sweets for everyone
☆ checks pretty often if anyone wants to take a break at a rest stop and stretch their legs (she’s pretty jittery and doesn’t want to be the only one constantly asking to stop the car)
☆ also participates in the license plate game, but also likes to play the slug bug and yellow car game
☆ made the mistake of slug bugging katelyn and got punched back in the arm
☆ gets really addicted to cute cat games on her phone and accidentally spends a bunch of money on passes
☆ she brings some sort of craft or sketchbook for the trip. you notice she’s been quiet for a while before looking over and seeing she’s already crocheted half of a scarf and a hat
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.
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1800jjbarnes · 5 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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My Everything
【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.
『W.C』 : 2.14k
-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au
Paring: Gargoyle!Bucky x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. use of the name Soldat. allusion of Hydra in old timey lore. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.
This story is my own flare of the original creators' webcomic. So the lore, characters, and other story design have been tweaked and changed to fit what i wanted to write. Make sure to check out the original author of this wild story.
I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane. Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place.
Masterlist | Kinktober List
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You ran faster than your legs could carry you, nearly slipping over even bend and turn you took. The pouring rain had soaked your tunic and all of your undergarments. Your shoes were also squelching with every stomp your feet did. You were in a panic, frantically praying that he would be alright. The priest of your village warned you―more like threatened you―about involving yourself with the devil as he put it. ‘Those beasts are not to be trusted. They are demons in disguise. Filth. Inhuman.’
You obviously ignored the old man, having no time with such lies. That beast was the most kindest creature you know. He was more caring than any human you've ever met. He understood you, heard you, got to know you. Everyone in the village only looked at you as the witch's daughter, the spawn of the devil herself. You were nothing and the only way to be something was to submit. Be one with god, marry the priest and prove you were devoted to the lord.
“Soldat! Soldat where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Soldat was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?
You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Soldat’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.
“I can’t leave you Soldat. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”
Your yelp got the demon's attention, making him stand at all his height. His fanged mouth growled, annoyed but also riddled with guilt. He would never thought the night he had with you was a mistake. Frankly, it was one, if not the best moment in his lifetime. But he needed to keep his distance from you. He needed you safe. Protected, alive. And he was something that was unable to do so. He was filth. A demon. You are this light. Innocent human. He shouldn’t, he can’t be the one that taints such a delicate flower. “Darling, please. I… I can’t.”
You stomped over to his form pushing on his strong broad chest. He fell with little effort landing on the wet concrete, soaking the fabric that wrapped around his waist. He could have held his ground not letting you move his large body with such ease, but he didn’t want to. He needed you close no matter how hard his mind was fighting him. You wasting no time in locking your lips against his. If talking wasn’t going to work then you were going to show him that he was meant for you. You needed him like the air you breathe and he wasn’t about to make the choice to die and leave you alone on this earth without you trying your best to stop him.
“Don’t leave me.” You whispered against his lips, feeling his long demonic tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned climbing the creature so your legs dangled over each of his crossed thighs. His hand, the same width as your waist, held tightly on your hip while the other cupped your face, holding you firmly in place. His tongue abused your own for a moment, basking in the rain now only lightly pouring. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving from yours, to your jaw, and then to your collarbone.
“I’ll never leave you my flower. I promise. I’m sorry.” His voice was raw, filled with pain and sorrow. He would never want you to fear such a thing but in toe, had made the fear brew from his outburst. You slide down off his lap falling in between his thighs. Your fingers quickly fumble with his cloth before tugging his growing cock free. The cold rain pouring down made the demon hiss, but your warm hands made his mind spin. Your fingers could barely wrap around the almost hardened cock. Now looking at him probably you now wonder how it even fitted in you in the first place. Your mouth took his tip, jaw aching at the sheer size of him. but you bushed forwards sucking on him making him groan, dipping his head backwards. Your mouth felt amazing even if you couldn’t take him whole. Your whimpers and gags vibrated on his cock in the perfect way and your harsh grip was sending him over the edge. “fuck, if you keep going I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”
His growl went straight to your pussy, making you try and take more of him in your mouth, letting saliva drip down your chin, soaking his cock along with his precum. You used one hand to continue stroking him while you used another to slip under your soaked dress, pressing your fingers firmly on your clit. Your moans were the perfect missing piece to send him over the edge, emptying his hot seed down your throat. “Fuck!!” his hand that held your face snaked and tighten in your hair, holding your still as he jerked his hips slightly. You pulled away making some of his juices squirt out on your face.
God, was it a sight to see.
Your wide eyes looking at him with nothing but devotion while covered in his cum.  How did he ever get so lucky finding you in such a cruel dark world? He sat up quickly, ripping all the fabric on your body, throwing the drenched tattered material somewhere across the garden. His huge hands gripped our thighs tugging you up until you sat on his chest, feeling some of your juices leak out onto his scarred body. You felt embarrassed, but your lover couldn’t think about anything in that moment other than having your pussy over his face. So with his insane strength, he lauds you forward, letting your cunt meet his lips. He pushed you down light so your body could lay on top of his while on your back. Tilting your face to the right you see his hardening cock twitch. His long demonic tongue licked a strip up your slit making your whole body visibly shivers. Your nails digging into his hips trying to hold onto any part of his giant frame. “Ffffucckk please!”
His tongue enters you, fucking you slowly as one of his hands lays flat on your tummy pushing pressure onto your body and making your toes curl. His other hand that still gripped tightly on your inner thigh opens slightly so his large thumb could reach your clit, pressing harshly on your nub. He could eat you for hours and never get tired of the way your body moves, the way it responds to every touch he gives or the way you moan and whimper his name over and over again. It was like an angel singing. Elegant, perfect and pure
“Hmm come.” His voice was almost not audible as he kept eating you like a starved beast making the vibrations hit just the right spot to send you reeling over the edge. He gave you no time to relax after your high though as your demonic lover picked you up with no effort at all and bend you over the concrete statue seat that he would sit at for centuries waiting for freedom. All your clothing had been ripped and torn away at this point leaving you completely baring in the cold dark night. The rain had not stopped but only got lighter for a moment before pouring some more. You would surely get sick after this encounter if you were not to leave at this moment. But neither of you made an effort to find shelter or privacy. No, he needed you now just as much as you to him. “Deep breaths Darling.”
His deep grumble was almost lost under the loud blanket of rain echoing in the night. But luckily you hear him, taking a deep breath, steadying yourself on the rock. The tip of his cock rubbed against your soaked folds, before inching in slowly. The burn was pleasurable but still painful. But you couldn’t care at this moment. Another inch went in and the demon had to pace himself, screaming over and over in his mind not to just snap his hips, making you take his cock in one quick swoop. No, he needed patience, even though he was no patient creature. But he managed to find some, only for you. Once he was able to completely bottoming you out. You were both a panting and moaning mess. Your whines didn’t stop as he started to buck his hips in and out. In and out. Testing the waters, seeing what you could handle. And once he saw a green light, his grip on your hips tightened as he began to ruthlessly fuck you against the rough concrete.
Your screams caught the breeze, shattering through the heavy sound of rain. He had turned you around in one single movement need to to feel your body close to his. Your legs couldn’t even wrap fully around your lovers huge waist as he continued fuck you hard and quick.
“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”
It didn’t take you long for your band in your tummy to tighten. You were so close to the edge and you needed just a little extra. Just a little more. And The demon seemed to read your body like his favourite book, pinching your clit with his large fingers you whaled his name squirting all over his cock. “PLease fuck argh. Your cock is so good. Fuckkk.”
He growled like an animal, latching his sharp teeth on your soft shoulder, wrapping his muscular arms around your tiny human frame. He picked you up, fucking upwards in a new angle. Your body was like a rag doll, letting him fuck you in any position he seemed fit.  His wings caged you, almost like he was protecting you while he also ruining you.
For a beast that seemed to only want to fuck, he cared so much about you. Without him ever saying it, he knew you were the love of his life and he was willing to die for you. Heck, he had already killed for you. And he could kill again if you asked. No matter what the code says about demons hurting humans. He would gladly serve an eternal sentence if it means hurting the ones who hurt you first.
“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”
“Yes, yes. Please. Give it to me.” and with your soft submissive cries he came deep in your cunt. Filling your full. His come mixed with yours, spilling down his legs, before washing away on the wet floor. His cock slipped out of you but he did not let you down. No, he opened his wings and took off towards the castle without another world. He held you tightly as you watched the garden where he had just defiled you disappear into your view. He was taking you back to his den. The home he had to made for himself. Away from any human or beast's eye.
Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.
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bellezaycafe · 4 months
Text
Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 6
genre: 2024 Season AU
pairing: Romantic! oc x two people because y'all voted on a triangle ;). platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.
warnings: lots swearing, mentions of the accident and crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Paranoia and an argument. love triangle crumbs
context: Part 1 and Masterlist…
Comments: massive lore drop but I've tried to keep the story moving and interesting. I'm a sucker for small details so I hope y'all have good memories ;)
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"I'm in a witness protection program."
Sadie clenched her jaw, unsure what else to say. Lando and Max were silent.
"What did you see?" Lando's voice was so soft Sadie barely heard him over the road noise.
Her right hand flexed on the steering wheel. "I can't tell you that."
"Why did you volunteer?"
"Because I love F1."
Max chimed in. "You said it's too public, too many cameras."
"What I reported happened after Melbourne and just before SIlverstone. I- I think it would be better if I just told you, wouldn't it."
"Yes," Lando muttered, not meeting her glance.
"Okay, well. I was working a bar in Sydney and witnessed a crime. I was seen calling the cops and..." She took a deep breath. "And let's just say that I had dobbed on someone dangerous. Someone influential and known to police."
"You snitched on a gangster?" Lando's wide eyes would have made Sadie laugh in any other situation. "A real life gangster?"
"I didn't know who they were! I was cornered in an alley the next day and after that I spent all of my money on a two week stay in England. From there, I reported the attempted assault and was told to stay in England for the two weeks. The police said they could use that time to get me into witness protection and set up the right safeguards, if I anonymously testify in court. It happened to be the Grand Prix weekend, so I volunteered instead of sitting around."
"Attempted assault?" Max stressed.
Sadie glanced at him in the rear view and her silence was answer enough. You don't need to know.
"Let me get this right. You snitched on a gang, were threaten and then ran to England?!"
"Yeah, pretty much." Her tone didn't match her racing heart.
"What happened to 'too many cameras'?" Lando toyed with his silver necklace.
"Obviously I didn't consider how dramatically you were going to break your ankle in turn, whatever it was. I figured, as a medic, I’d spend a lot of time in areas with very few to no cameras.”
Sadie glanced at the phone Lando showed her and, with one hand on the wheel, swung them left and down a small side street.
“You are right, though,” Max observed. “The reporters aren’t allowed in the medical tents unless they’re unwell themselves.”
“Is that why you’re in Melbourne? Are you from Sydney?” She could hear curiosity in Lando’s voice.
“It’s complicated.” Sadie grimaced.
“It’s seems like everything is,” Max muttered.
“Oh, shush,” she joked. She knew it had landed when both boys smiled slightly. “I grew up just outside of Melbourne. I’ve been working back at that bar since I was 18. I took some unofficial leave in June to experience working in another city while we had extra staff. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have chosen Sydney.”
The boys were quiet as Sadie explained her time working at bars in Sydney and enjoying the nightlife of another city. She talked about the move up there and the sudden disappearance to England. Some of her stuff was still in Sydney, including some personal keepsakes like a bracelet from her mother. Sadie explained that Lewis and Max knew about the witness protection, but nothing further. She’d only told them when they visited her in hospital the day after the accident and after some significant convincing. She answered questions about her leg and how it had healed, which had turned out to be quite well.
“How much physio did you have to do?” There was guilt in Lando’s question.
“Just some at home things, it was quite easy,” Sadie admitted. She didn’t want to elaborate on the facts she hadn’t done any official physio because she couldn’t afford it. Australian public health care was good, but not that good. “How well has the ankle healed?”
“It was slower than I wanted but I’m cleared for next season which is good.”
Max grumbled, “but he didn’t stop complaining about it for months.”
“I was in pain, mate!”
“I know! You told me every chance you got!”
Sadie smiled at their banter, glad they weren’t holding up walls of suspicion anymore.
As she pulled up to the Piastri Family home, she cleared her throat. “I- ummm… It was good to see you again Lando, and good to meet you Max.”
“Oh no,” Lando chided. “We’re not done, I am not letting you just drive into the sunset again.”
“It’s already dark,” Sadie pointed out. “And that’s not what happened the first time.”
“And on that note, I’m out,” Max exclaimed. “It was lovely to meet you, Sadie. Thank you for what you did at Silverstone.”
He jumped out of the car before she could say anything and practically ran to the red front door of a small, low set home.
Lando undid his seatbelt and turned to face her, pulling a leg onto the seat.
“Sadie, you vanished.”
Straight into then.
“I feel better seeing that you’re in one piece, and not hearing it from news,” she murmured.
“That’s what you have to say?” he scoffed.
Sadie pushed down irritation. She might struggle to stay in one place for very long, but she was a patient person who had drawers of calm, collected masks to choose from.
When she didn’t answer, Lando shook his head and closed his eyes.
“How do you think I felt?” he snapped. “Lewis told me you had stitches. How many? I know you can walk, but how long did it take for the limp to go away? Did you need crutches? Because you know that I did, and you know how long I needed them for.”
“How much did Lewis tell you?”
“You’re focusing on the wrong thi-“
“How much, Lando?”
The panicked edge to her voice had Lando pausing, looking closer at her face through whatever haze was over his mind.
“Just that,” he breathed. “He told me you’d needed stitches but were okay. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”
The fist around Sadie’s heart relaxed slightly as she sighed with relief. “Okay, as long as it was just that.”
“You’re scared,” he stated like he’d only just noticed. His watercolour eyes were lit slightly by a nearby street lamp. They appeared hazel in that light and it was a detail Sadie wished she hadn’t noted.
“I’m paranoid,” she replied just as curtly.
“I was scared,” he admitted, breaking the eye contact.
“That’s fair. If your ankle didn’t heal properly, your career might’ve been over.”
“No, that’s not- Well I was scared about that but I meant that I was scared for you.”
Sadie frowned. “What? Why?”
“I didn’t know if you were okay! You put yourself on the line for me, you saved my life and I didn’t know if you were okay!”
“I didn’t save your life,” she scoffed. “It wasn’t headed for your heart.”
“I rewatched the footage,” Lando confessed with a sheepish smile. “If you hadn’t put yourself between me and the track? The debris would have hit me and my career could have been over.”
“Your career, Lando. Not your life.” Her voice was the softest it had been all night. It even surprised her.
“My racing is my life, Sadie.”
“I-“ but he cut her off.
“I never got to thank you in person.”
“You can do it now.”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?” Her patience was slipping. She pulled another mask from the drawer.
“I think you’d take it as closure, or something. Then you’d leave and I would never see you again.”
He wasn’t wrong. She’d began to form a plan on how to give him the answers he needed, and then vanish again. He was a liability to her safety.
“Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
She didn’t know what to say to that. Sadie couldn’t bring herself and meet the gaze she could feel on her.
“Max almost punched a reporter,” Lando said.
That had her looking up at him, a confused smile on her lips.
“What?”
“In the media pen, Max almost punched a reporter that wouldn’t stop asking about you.”
A laugh bubbled out of Sadie. Max Verstappen? Protecting the young woman who had ego-checked him at Albert Park?
“I’m serious!” Lando insisted, but his smile was widening. “The guy asked every driver, but Lewis and Max had already told everyone to say nothing. The reporter was so frustrated at getting ‘no comment’ from every driver. Max’s interview was second or third last and the reporter asked something so out of pocket. If you find the interview you can see Max trying not to hit the guy.”
Sadie laughed again, and she caught Lando grinning in her peripheral vision.
“I did make him swear on his championship,” she commented it.
“What?” It was obvious that detail was also new to Lando.
“After the incident, while we were still at the track, I made Lewis promise to hide me from the media. Max visited my hotel room a few days later, and I made him swear the same thing.”
“On his championship?” Lando was trying to hold back a laugh.
“Yeah.” Sadie couldn’t hold back her own.
They laughed for a few minutes at the absurd notion of Max swearing anything on his championship.
“Jesus,” Lando sighed. “That makes so much more sense now.”
“What does?”
“I tried to find you, after a month. Fuck, I even tried to rope half the grid into helping me find you, but Lewis and Max always shut it down. They never told my why, but I guess that’s it.”
“I’m not going to apologise for trying to protect myself.”
“You’re good at protecting,” he said.
It wasn’t the most random comment he’d made that night but it was the one that stuck out the most.
Sadie didn’t know how to reply.
She didn’t have a chance to think about it when she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the car.
“Lando, get out of sight,” she warned.
He was too shocked by the immediate change in demeanour and topic.
“What?”
“Just- oh. Nevermind.”
As the figure came closer, they stepped into the lamplight and Sadie recognised Oscar Piastri.
“It’s Piastri,” she breathed.
Lando wound down his window and waved.
Oscar leant down, rested both arms across the opened window and glanced between them.
“Hey, how are you?” He began.
“Could be better,” Sadie quipped with a joking smile.
“I’m trying to convince her to stay,” Lando explained.
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Stay the night or-“
“No, Oscar!” Lando laughed and Sadie couldn’t help but like sound.
“He means in your lives. But I can’t.”
Oscar tilted his head sideways quizzically and some of his hair fell into his eyes. “Can’t or won’t.”
“Both.”
“You make it sound like you don’t have a choice,” he observed.
“She does,” Lando said at the same time as Sadie’s “I don’t.”
“Lando, I-“
“No, Sadie you do have a choice. Not every part of our lives is public.”
“I’m still very confused,” Oscar added.
Sadie’s patience slipped again. “Piastri, I fucked with some dangerous people, and I can’t let them find me. Lando, you don’t have a private life. If you’re not doing Formula One, you’re doing Quadrant; if you’re not doing Quadrant, you’re partying with Martin Garrix; and if you’re not partying, you’re posting something on Instagram. You live an incredibly public life, and that’s okay, but I can’t join that in any regard.”
Lando looked at her with stunned silence. Oscar was watching her with a very concerned expression. She pointed at him with an intense stare.
"You might think your life is fairly private, but when you post on social media everyone nit-pics at it because of how rare your posts are. And every sighting of you is scrutinised.”
A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth but he didn’t say anything.
Sadie pulled in a deep breath and pulled on another mask from the drawer.
“I’m sorry, to both of you, but I’m going to vanish again. I have to.”
“Are you in witness protection?” Oscar asked.
Sadie nodded with a frown. He’d put it together fast.
“When’s the court date?” Oscar’s deep brown were intensely focused on her.
“Wednesday, next week. I will be testifying anonymously.”
“So even if they have gang members who aren’t convicted, they won’t know it was you.” Lando pressed, catching onto Oscar’s train.
“Gang members?” Oscar’s went up an octave.
Sadie waved off the question and focused on Lando. “I see where this is going.”
“Then you can see why I’m right.” His eyes were set on hers, a hand set on the handbrake between them.
Sadie sighed and closed her eyes.
“All of the members who saw my face will be going on trial. A few of them have been convicted already.”
“So after next week, you won’t be in witness protection anymore.” Lando pressed.
“That will depend on whether they’re all convicted and how long their jail time is.”
As Sadie spoke, Oscar pulled out his wallet and an old receipt. He pulled a random marker from another pocket and wrote something on the back before handing them both to Lando. He took this hint and wrote something as well.
When he handed it to her, Sadie noted both their phone numbers and tiny signatures at the end of them.
“Text when the trial is over. Just a yes or no. A yes doesn’t mean that you’re going to to be thrust into the spot light. It’s a maybe.” Oscar said, running a hand through his brown hair.
“It’s a maybe I could thank you properly." Lando added. "A random dinner or a paddock pass to which ever race you want.”
That brought a small smile to Sadie’s face.
“Everyone at McLaren would want to thank you,” Oscar added, but there was a tightness to his jaw Sadie hadn’t noticed until then.
She caved.
“Alright maybe,” she said. “I’ll keep this but I'm not promising you anything.”
Oscar's soft smile said that's enough, but Lando's slight frown meant he wasn't ready to give up. Oscar noted it.
"Lando," he interrupted whatever the older driver was thinking. "Mum made chocolate cake while you were out and wants you to try it."
"She knows about our diets right?"
"She'll insist until you fly out."
Lando sighed with an amused smile and opened his door.
"I'm not going to say thank you, not yet. I'm not even going to say goodbye."
"It might be your only chance," Sadie reminded him.
Lando shook his head as he stood, brown curls waving in the small breeze. Oscar pushed his door shut gently and ducked his head back through the window.
They watched Lando walk away, oblivious to the fact Oscar wasn't on his heals.
"I saw it happen, at Silverstone," Oscar murmured. "I saw you make the choice."
"I didn't choose. I reacted. There was no choice, or thought process, or thoughts at all, actually. It was just an action."
"An action we're all grateful for, but-" His voice dropped, as if Lando would hear him if he was any louder. "- I want to thank you for making that choice, or doing that action, whatever."
"Stop," Sadie demanded. "Stop, Piastri."
He did. The first one to stop the first time she asked.
She pulled in a deep breathe and calmly explained, "I did what I did. It happened. I know you're all grateful, but it has to stay at that. This is not a movie, where a chance meeting leads to years of friendship."
"I wouldn't call being hospitalised for being a human shield, a chance encounter," Oscar noted dryly.
"You get my point," she replied.
"I do, and I think I understand." He stepped away from the car. "You have our numbers. Call us and we will be there."
Sadie smiled slightly but didn't give him any hope.
"Go, before Lando comes back out."
"It was good to meet you, Piastri."
"Good luck, Sadie."
With that, the handbrake was off, car in gear and she was gone.
----$----
I know y'all loved the Max/Sadie dynamic in chapters 1 and 2 so how about some more Max content next chapter? ;)
Masterlist…
Taglist; @snubug
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obligatoryjauneblog · 30 days
Text
Twins AU: Mother Knows Best
Bit of a sequel to this piece, credit to @pilot-boi for this AU and the lore.
She found him out in the dunes, sat on top of one and eyeing the setting sun. She only heard snippets of what transpired, dragged through a realm of madness but little else other than the fact her son came back... changed. It was horrifying to think how much it reminded her of the old wizard.
She landed a bit to his side, spreading her wings before closing them again. For a bit they just sat there, neither saying or even so much as looking to the side. Until Yin decided to break the silence.
Jaune: ... Finally decided to be a mother, Raven?
She shifted out of that form, crossing her legs and laying her blade on her lap. She brought it into the sand and pushed herself up. She was pulled back down by her son.
Jaune: W-wait!
Raven finally turned to look at him. How could someone so young look so old. She wanted to look anywhere else. She saw too much of Tai at his worst in him.
Jaune: Does it get easier...?
Raven: Does what?
Jaune: Taking a life.
Raven raised an eyebrow, out of both of her children she expected Yang to be the one to ask her that.
Raven: It's not meant to be easier, Yin.
Jaune: Yet it is to you.
Raven: And what makes you say that.
Jaune: You tried to kill an infant after all.
She walked into that one, closing her eyes as she tried not to give a reaction.
Jaune: Then again how different am I really... I killed one of my sister's best friend...
Jaune wrapped his arms around his knees, laying his head down. Raven reached out, but her arm froze before she could touch him.
Raven: Gods, I'm bad at this...
Raven: When was this?
Jaune: During the trek from Atlas... she, she was wounded. Begged me to take her life, so Cinder couldn't take her power...
Raven: So a mercy kill then?
Jaune: Does that make it any better?
To Jaune's surprise, he heard Raven laugh.
Raven: You really are your father's son.
Jaune: Pardon?
Raven: He and I, we had a mission... Routine search and rescue in rural Vale, got their just in time, but the Grimm were far more than we expected...
She closed her eyes, hearing Tai yell her name.
Raven: The one we were sent to rescue, Beowolf got to her. We managed to repel the horde, but our medkit wasn't enough, and we were too far from any hospital... She, she looked at us and knew that was it, asking us to end the pain.
Raven gripped her sword, laying it across her lap.
Raven: Your father was the one to do it. Her last words were thank you. I don't think he ever stopped beating himself up over that.
Jaune: Do my sisters know...?
Raven: No, but you understand why I told you?
Jaune: Yeah.. Yeah I think I do...
The sun was fully setting as the silence returned. Raven got up, stretching her arms.
Jaune: Do you think this was enough for forgiveness?
Raven: I never said I came for forgiveness... I came as... a concerned mother.
Jaune didn't even respond.
Raven: I know it'll take ye-
Jaune: It's not me you need to ask for forgiveness.
Raven: Excuse me?
Jaune got up, turning to face her fully.
Jaune: My sisters spent a few days in the Ever After, I... I spent a lifetime at least in there. Decades stewing in my own anger, my anger at Cinder, at you, at myself...
Raven: Yin...
Jaune: I managed to let go of many things in there. You abandoning me was one of them... What I can't forgive is what you did to my sister. You want us to be family? Start there.
He started walking down the sands, heading towards town.
Jaune: Goodbye, Raven.
She waited until he was out of ear shot.
Raven: Goodbye... son...
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weñl since I'm new to the AU and already ate every post.... Could you drop some lore of The Prototype and his link to the toys? (especially with Catnap seeing as how he recently calls him "dad" but I wonder how before he allowed Theo to consider him a God and worship him)
For my AU, the Prototype was originally Elliot Ludwig himself. He had an adopted daughter and lost her due to an illness, and then had the brilliant idea to start dubiously ethical experiments in order to bring her back. He eventually volunteered himself to be the first human to become a toy, only to realize, far too late, that without him in charge mr. Harley "what is ethics if not another rule to break in the name of SCIENCE" Sawyer would go "what if i broke every single rule Elliot ever imposed on me". Also I have adopted @lassieposting's hc about Elliot being a military veteran, which is important for this because now this man feels like he, once again, is seeing a tragedy that should have never existed at ALL.
Prototype took care of little Theo/Catnap as if he were his own son (also taken from lassieposting because good headcanons are GOOD headcanons), and after the Hour of Joy and him realizing that the toys can't go outside without risking even more death and people hunting them, he taught Catnap how to hunt. After he learned how to look after himself Catnap became more independent, and Theo was always a kind of religious boy, and that combined with him seeing Prototype as a hero made him undergo the biggest catholic moment in the history of Playtime Co.
Prototype doesn't like being called a god, but Catnap doing that did help him impose more rules on the toys ("don't go outside so humans won't find us and capture us again", "don't torture each other even if you are really hungry", "if you see a human kill it and give it to me so we can all have food"). Unfortunately their distance grew as time went on, and Prototype just. Never actually tried doing anything to stop Catnap from being like That. Again, it was helping him, and he sees Catnap as the child he failed to protect, and he just never knew how to address the elephant in the room. This entire situation was 100% Prototype's fault for not attempting to sit down with Catnap and tell him to cut it off.
Prototype has a trillion communication issues, honestly. For this AU he helped deliver Poppy's call for help to the Player/Angel, not that she knew that, because he decided that everyone had enough. He wanted someone to save the toys, even if by "saving" it meant "killing them off", because Prototype figured it was better than being alive in that nightmare.
And then Angel saved Huggy, throwing Prototype's whole plan away.
And then Bunzo, the mini huggies, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, and then Mommy Long Legs, and then Miss Delight and Dogday, and then Catnap, even when the big feline begged Prototype to end his suffering. The Angel took care of all of them. They never dared leave anyone behind.
Prototype changed his plan for it to just be for him to die, because he caused everyone to become a toy. He deserved that fate more than anyone, at least in his eyes.
And then Angel convinced him to live. The deal they made was for Prototype to help them take care of everyone and stop anyone from ever find all the documentation about how the experiments were done, and only just enough info for the humans outside to know the toys are alive and were previously innocent children. After Angel finds a bigger house, Catnap convinces Prototype to come in with them, and he reluctantly agrees.
It'll be really funny when Angel realizes Poppy was Elliot's daughter, because our favorite porcelain doll does NOT know Elliot is the Prototype. Actually, NO ONE knows that, not even Catnap himself. When Angel finds out they DEMAND Prototype to talk to Poppy because what the HECK, you already failed to communicate with one kid and now you fail to communicate with ANOTHER?
Anyways, family drama aside, Angel and Prototype unironically make a very good parent duo. Prototype knows how the toys work, while Angel knows how to be gentle and assuring. They teach the other a lot about what to do, but the majority of the toys are too afraid to talk with Prototype to learn that he's Father Material If You Ignore The Communication Issues. Catnap can confirm!
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kibbits · 9 months
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Since we all love Untitled Plaza Goose, I vote that either there is a well loved goose plushie that was left in the boy’s care after the plaza closed and no one came back to claim it or Y/N ends up having to go thrift shopping for cheap props (cause why would fazbear pay for the good stuff that they can’t just mass produce) and ends up finding one of those porch geese for dirt cheap and it makes occasional appearances dressed as whatever the show content happens to be that day.
Yeeeee!!!! It could be a lil sad if they found it on one of the seats after a show and no one claimed it -- or!! Wait no scratch that
Cute version, a kid gives it to them at a meet and greet and insists they keep it!! It's a well-loved goose plushie with like sand weights in the wing tips and feet, and they turn it around and ask the kid to sign an autograph on the goose's ribbon ehehehe
They name it Odette >: ) (Swan princess)
(man now i'm thinking that playing with/flapping the weighted wings would be such a great stim)
I think it'd be great if by coincidence, before or after that, the pizzaplex actually had a visit from The (YN) Goose one night djdjd
The boys DO love chaos, so I think they'd prob chase after it if it stole something important, but otherwise they would absolutely be hype men and 1. Put any accessories it brings to them on the goose. 2. Could be like the ladies from the tavern and imitate the goose's movements with their lil plushie 3. Cheer and be v entertained by it.
Goose: -spends like 30min slowly dragging a fake plant and dunks it in a fountain-
Them, after watching the whole time: Bravo! Magnificent performance art! The plant thirsts for that which it cannot have! -standing ovation-
They tell YN in the morning, who likes to thrift and gets them one of those weighted garden statues as a half-joke when they spot it.
It's a doorstop now. It was the perfect weight, and it makes those that Encountered the Goose that night startle every time they see it, so the boys love it and they prop the theater door open with it djdjdjd they'll dress it up seasonally/for performances ehehehee.
Thanks so much for the ask aa i love imagining it sjsndj
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thegnomelord · 3 months
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was thinking about drawing Ifrit from "Hell has a basement floor" and had some headcanons on his appearance.
on one hand i was thinking to make him tall and burly, built big to store all the mana and power he has, make him built like a volcano.
on the other.... what if and hear me out.... Ifrit.... skinny. tall and gangly, long limbs, underfed, outlines of bones poking out from underneath the skin, sunken eyes for that extra unsettling factor. besides magic does have a cost. maybe it's just your body that needs to be exchanged.
now i thought of the second hc because tall and skinny isn't exactly associated with the kind of brute force Ifrit has but he's still strong even if his lifestyle is gonna put him in an early grave. now imagine when he's finally part of tf 141 they notice that he's not very well in the food and weight department for his height and the amount of energy he spends so... they start feeding him (especially Price and Soap because protect and care hoard/pack)......
i've also been getting into the trope where characters gain weight as a sign of health and living a better life. so yeah tell me what you think
and maybe share your hcs on Ifrits appearance because i don't want to butcher your creation on accident
Okay 1: you have no idea how happy it makes me when I hear ppl want to draw fan art of my stuff :DD, internally I'm like that dog video where the dogs happily tapping his paws lol bc he can't contain his excitement lol. And also yeah, I'm a huge sucker for the trope and your little idea with Price amd Soap tickles my brain.
And 2: man you did some mind reading bc your hcs are actually very close to what I've made up for the lore of the whole au. While I want to overall leave Ifrit's body type ambiguous to give readers some space to imagine themselves in Ifrit's place, Ifrit is 100% underweight with more of a volleyball/basketball player type build, as mages focus on stamina and endurance rather than raw strength bc that can be augmented with magic. Also has stretch marks because their weight fluctuates a lot lol
Okay lore spoilers so if y'all want to find out through the story skip this-
Okay so— magic is increadibly taxing on the body, not just by eating away flesh and creating mage marks as a Mage's power grows, but just by simply existing inside the body magic stresses the body. Because fundamentally magic is toxic to humans, and even mages who have the needed adaptations to utilise magic are no better than our ancestors when they were first learning to stand on two legs.
The best metaphor I have for magic is chemo drugs. They're used to kill a cancer but they also damage healthy cells. Magic, similarly, damages the body by existing inside it, but also is used by mages to heal the damage as soon as it happens. This uses a lot of calories and also why mages have really irregular weights, losing 10kg in a week isn't an uncommon thing.
Someone possessing even half of Ifrit's capabilities would need to eat 3x that of a regular human of the same height and weight. Mages are literally Shaggy from Scooby Doo lol. And that's only to get the bare minimum their body needs, caloric need becomes much bigger if they're active like Ifrit is. So you'll find that many mages, but especially military ones, are underweight and need to regularly get Iv fluids and nutrients to help their body recover from using magic. They also need to eat a lot of highly caloric food, which isn't easy when one of the most common side effects of magic use is puking your guts up.
Most military mages don't reach 30. The average life expectancy is around 25, with active duty (i.e. constant missions and daily magic use) mages lasting on average 3-4 years before their body basically breaks down, but they can last longer depending on how conservatively they use magic.
Now, knowing all that, Ifrit has been actively using strong magic on par with military mages since they were 14-15 years old and while they're not the healthiest, they're healthy as a horse when compared to most mages. The reason behind their continued survival — their mage marks.
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ashwii · 1 year
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Celestial AU FAQ
Usually I prefer pinning my favorite artworks to the top of my profile, but over the last couple weeks I've gotten MANY repeat questions about my rottmnt celestial AU. I never mind answering questions, but I want to limit how many asks I answer to keep everyone else's dashboard's in mind [i.e. I don't want to clog up other people's tumblr with several asks that have been answered in the past.]
Below is a list of general frequently asked questions regarding my celestial au. Even more detailed information and questions can be found in the "#celestialFAQ" tag on my blog.
What is the Celestial AU?
It's a ROTTMNT au where Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Mikey embody celetial bodies. Leo embodies the stars, Donnie embodies the Moon, Raph embodies the Sun, and Mikey embodies the comets.
Can you tell us more about what they are?
Leo is the stars — he overlooks the stars as a guardian figure. While he thinks of his stars as his children, he is also an embodiment of the stars — he IS the stars. They are one and the same.
The same goes for Mikey and his comets. Although, while Mikey specifically embodies and overlooks the comets, he also overlooks all them zippy lil' things in the galaxy [meteors, asteroids, etc.]
Donnie and Raph are a little different — Donnie specifically ONLY embodies Earth's moon, and is the overlooker of all the other moons in the universe. The same goes for Raph and Earth's Sun.
Are there any other characters in this AU [Splinter, April, Drax, Krang, etc]?
[As of writing this] The only other characters in this AU are April [an astronaut who works for NASA / an aspiring astronaut], and S.H.E.L.D.O.N. [a robot made of lost junk and lost space tech that Donnie found]. I do not plan for there to be any other characters in this au, as I mainly want to draw and focus on the turtles.
There have been lots of fun headcanons in the askbox about who else could be in the au and what they would embody, and I think that's great! I love all the fanart and creativity everyone is doing for this AU, I will never be mad at exploring fun ideas [I've even doodled some of these ideas for fun] — as for what is "canon" in the AU though, at the moment I'm going to keep it as the turtles, April, and S.H.E.L.D.O.N.
What's the lore behind this AU?
There is no real lore behind this AU, just a bunch of fun ideas in a fun concept. Lots of other people have had fun coming up with their own lore and ideas for this AU, and once again, I think that's great! There's so many ideas other people came up with that I love — but again, in terms of "canon" and what I'm willing to draw, there's no legitimate lore for this AU.
The Sun is also a star. Does that mean Sun!Raph has a special relation to Star!Leo in some way?
Yes! Leo and Raph have a very strong special connection in this AU because of this.
Do the celestials control what they embody?
Control isn't exactly the right word — say for Star!Leo, for example, he's more of a guardian figure to the stars. "Control" implies that the stars have no personality of their own whatsoever, but that's not exactly true. They almost have their own little life to them — like a healthy tree —that Leo can understand since the stars and Leo are one in the same.
What are Moon!Donnie's alternate phases?
Moon!Donnie's alters are Blood Moon, Harvest Moon, Blue Moon, and Super Moon. Moon!Donnie's design also changes some depending on the phase of the Moon [eg. During the Full Moon phase, Donnie has no shadow up his arms and legs. During the New Moon phase, Donnie is all encompassed in shadow].
Is there any more info about these phases?
During Donnie's Blood Moon phase, he tends to be a little more mischievous and violent. He's ready to kill, no questions asked.
During his Blue Moon phase, he's a little sadder than usual. He's not breaking down every minute or endlessly sobbing — he's more just a little blue (heh) and the unending river of tears just comes with the phase. He just needs some cuddles and comfort during this time <3
Harvest Moon Donnie is a happy lil guy! He's a little chipper and cuddly during this time, hapoy to help and talk with his brothers on end.
These phases don't COMPLETELY change his personality — he still the same Donnie, but just with little changes to his overall mood.
There are many more types/names for the Moon [Snow Moon, Worm Moon, Flower Moon, etc.] — will you be drawing those as designs for Moon!Donnie as well?
While I think I may sketch out some of them for fun, in terms of "canon" to the AU, I want to keep it limited to what I listed above in the previous question.
Are there any alternate versions of the other celestials?
Sun!Raph gets sun flares when he's upset, and I have a Nova!Leo design in the works. I haven't thought of any alternate versions for Comet!Mikey, but I don't think he needs one, haha.
What happens during an eclipse?
During a solar eclipse, Raph gives Donnie a hug from behind. During a lunar eclipse, I like to imagine that Donnie is hiding behind the earth because he ticked Raph off.
Can Star!Leo feel it when any stars die?
Yes, he does. I explained in much more detail in the "#celestialFAQ" tag, but when his stars die, it hurts him some emotionally and physically.
Whenever the Sun [Raph] would explode in the future, Star!Leo will be out of commission for a while because of how much it would hurt him.
What is Star!Leo's relationship with the stars?
Leo is the stars, point blank. He is the personification of them. He's all the stars, he is them, they are he. One and the same. BUT there's also a special relationship there — Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, almost. A very deep connection and love. The stars feel that deep love for Leo too, they see him as almost a guardian figure. They love him more than anything, and Leo knows that.
Now HOW can the idea that Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, and the idea that Leo is just straight up the personification of the stars (him being all of the stars) both be true at the same time? Ah — no real answer there. It just kind of is, and it's more of a feeling that I myself have. That's just the way that I personally feel Leo's relationship with the stars is, even if I'm never able to describe it quite perfectly, and even if it's confusing to everyone else lmao.
Do the celestial turtles still have their weapons like the canon turtles?
Yes they do — Star!Leo has katanas made of constellations, Moon!Donnie has his staff made of shadow, Sun!Raph's fists fire up, and Comet!Mikey's comets and meteors spin around him and he can shoot them where he pleased.
Is this AU meant to be accurate about how astrology and space works?
Not at all — there are a lot of inaccuracies in this AU. But what's the fun of making an au like this if I have to keep everything pinpoint accurate! This AU is for good, fun vibes, and it's ok if not everything matches up with exactly how space works.
Can I make fanart/fanfics for this au?
Yes, you can! If you do, please tag me and lmk, I'd absolutely love to see what you guys make. Oc's and fan characters are welcome as well.
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raspberrydraws · 3 months
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Hi!! your pony au is really cool but idk shit about mlp lore I was wondering if you could break it down for me as someone who knows nothing about it? Like is it super special to have wings? Im assuming sanjis pony is special because hes a unicorn? low key begging for an info dump please👉👈
Hello! I'm so happy you liked the AU! I guess I can make a little explanation about the pony types!
(I'd like to clarify that there are other types of ponies like crystal ponies, changelings, kirins, sea ponies, etc. but I like to keep it basic hehe)
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So yeah, Sanji is an alicorn since he comes from a royal family!
Not all alicorns are royalty from good reasons in this au tho..
But well since I tried to mix it with his canon story. He's not as powerful as his siblings, his magic is basic like telekinesis to hold stuff and it's mostly used for cooking. His wings are bigger than a normal pegasus but smaller than an alicorn, and he's not used to flying very high or being super fast, they're mostly used to impress girls or to land softly if he has to jump from a high place.
But here's where his earth pony part comes out, he has really strong legs! Since he trained so hard with Zeff, if he kicks you, the power of his hoofs can send you into oblivion !! woah!!
I hope this helps a little and also sorry for the late answer !!
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melodiousmonsters · 11 months
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"Wubbox (Divina Mechana) average around 22ft/6.7m tall. The Wubbox are mysterious monsters that were discovered in an underground vault between all the natural island’s locations. There was one already activated named Wub. It seemed to know a lot about its species and was fairly happy to give out certain information, but would clam up at other requests like asking who made them or what their purpose is.
They are activated by placing living single elemental eggs into specially made cavities in the interior of their boxed form. Once that is done they activate. They start off able to talk and do basic things but they have virtually no personality like a hatchling. After a few days it starts to rapidly mature and starts acting more like an adult monster. They’ll start messing around with their environment and running experiments on things they are curious about.
Wubbox are made of an alloy of brass and bubblerite called steptanium. It’s a strong substance with a plastic-y finish that’s outstandingly conductive, the extent of said conductivity would not be elaborated on. Steptanium can also shrink and grow and “dissolve into pure energy” which allows for the Wubbox to box up. A thin enough plating of another metal or other substance can be put over steptanium without interfering with its properties. That information was asked for by another Wubbox named Machin who wanted to paint itself pink. Wubbox like to customize themselves, except for Wub, it says that it’s for “sentimental purposes”.
Wubbox are made up of four main parts, the head, body, arms, and legs. The head has a mouth, eyes, and a base. The base holds the eyes in cups and the mouth is attached at the front. On the back of the base is a button that allegedly (thanks Wub for the information) causes the Wubbox to box involuntarily, I say allegedly because none of them will let me test it on them.
The body is a cage that surrounds their core. Their core is the power source of the Wubbox and holds their consciousness. It has a rubbery texture and is incredibly sturdy. It can squish a lot without breaking.
The limbs are very basic other than the fact they have perfectly safe exposed electrical currents running through them. The electricity has been manipulated to only flow through special disks that their limbs are made of. Even if you touch the disks right where the electricity hits them it still won’t shock you as you are not the disk so the electricity can’t flow into you. The forearms and feet also have the same properties of the disks except that they can be replaced with anything, it’s a mystery how that works, but it does."
To expand on the customization, a Wubbox can do a lot to themselves as long as they keep their basic body plan and primarily steptanium composition. I have only one example as i have been very busy as of recent (I'm on vacation and will be for every summer), it's the water island Wubbox (there's one wubbox per natural island not including Wub, making 6 Wubbox total) an it doesn't have a name yet as usual for the more individual monsters.
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As for variants, well at least at the time this was made in universe Wubboxes didn't have variants, customizing themselves doesn't fundamentally change them as monsters so those aren't counted as variants. The epic Wubbox do exist but are too integral to how important things work in the monster world so I can't talk about them yet.
I'm going to probably switch to doing one of these every two weeks instead so I can put more time into them as I haven't been too happy with the quality of the recent ones. Also there isn't a lot here because it's Wubbox, they're lore important. I also changed out the egg waking up mechanic from the monster boxing because 1. the wublins don't use the egg mechanic anymore they just get shocked, and 2. there are only very small populations of monsters in the contemporary monster world in this au so boxing monsters would decimate the population.
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