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#like a weird shadowy mass
laugtherhyena · 9 months
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A shadow of what you once were
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evilminji · 4 months
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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
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reverieblondie · 11 months
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Scary Movie Night
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.
Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?
A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.
Word Count: 6,582
“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 
Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  
The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 
The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 
“Trick or Treat!” 
The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 
Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 
A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 
And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  
Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…
Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 
Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…
You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…
Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  
Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 
Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?
Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 
-Bring…-
-Brriinnngg…-
“Hello?” 
“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 
You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 
Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”
There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-
“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 
Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”
-click-
——-
Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 
Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…
Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 
The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…
Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 
Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-
Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  
“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 
Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 
Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  
Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 
Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 
Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 
Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.
“Anything else?”
Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.
“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 
Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”
Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.
After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara
Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 
Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 
Touché-
“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 
“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 
“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 
“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 
“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 
As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 
“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”
“I’ll stay”
“Huh?” You look at him confused 
Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 
“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 
-------
This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…
Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  
As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”
Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”
Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 
But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 
Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-
Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 
Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 
“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 
“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 
“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”
Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”
“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.
“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”
“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.
“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.
“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 
Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.
Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie
Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 
Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?
The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 
Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 
“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 
Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.
Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.
Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 
Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”
Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…
———-
Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 
“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 
You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-
“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 
“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 
Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 
“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 
Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 
Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 
Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?
Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…
While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 
Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 
Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 
All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 
Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  
“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 
“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss
“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 
Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”
Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 
Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”
“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 
Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 
Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 
Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 
Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 
Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 
Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 
“Danm, you're so wet…” 
Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 
Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 
“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 
“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 
Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 
Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 
Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 
Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 
Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 
Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 
Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 
Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 
“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 
You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 
The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”
“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   
Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 
Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 
Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 
Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 
Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 
Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 
Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 
After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 
Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 
 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 
The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  
“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 
“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 
“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 
The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry
Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 
The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 
The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”
You shake your head “This is 925” 
The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 
A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 
Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 
With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 
Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 
Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 
“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 
Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 
With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 
Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 
Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 
Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  
Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 
“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 
Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 
“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos
Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 
“figured we could multitask.”  
With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 
The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!” 
Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”
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writingoddess1125 · 10 months
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Deal with the Devil
This is honestly just a Comedy no idea what this is 🤣
GNReader x AU Demon Buggy
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Art Belongs to Vamos_MK on Twitter!
If you like Click Here <-
"You Fucking Asshole!" (Y/N) screamed, Tossing their phone across the room as you stood there.
Your Rotten Bastard of a Boyfriend- Best to say Ex now!
You'd done everything for him.. wrote his resume, got him job interviews, washed his crusty underwear!
He had wrecked your apartment, drained your saving all for what? The hope of God damn magic!
Yes Fucking magic-
He was a pinterest board having Half ass 'Witch' that claimed he was of a Witch blood line.
Maybe it was that Witch bloodline that lead him to stick his dick in some random as twink at the Bar!
"Fuck You!" You screamed in the air, sobbing as you rushed to your liquor cabinet- It wasn't like you had much but you grabbed the quarter bottle of vodka and the rum. It would do-
Playing terrible break up music you drank away your sorrows- Sobbing hysterically into your carpeted livingroom floor as you finished the vodka, You tossing the empty bottle across the room causing it to shatter.
Stumbling up, you waddle to the kitchen- in state deciding a cup was finally smart-
In you drunken stooper you grabbed a 711 cup from the counter wanting to pour more booze in it- but pausing when you saw it. Your EX's book of shadows- Aka a Dollar Tree Notebook were he stashed his stupid spells and random pages he pirated from the internet. Picking it up and getting ready to throw it in the trash with the rest of your EX's shit when you finally sober up-
But opened it randomly seeing a folded up peice of paper tucked I to the sides. Rolling your eyes you open it and see a well worn page, however it wasn't ancient by any means- the witches.com emblem in the corner cluing you in to that. But in big bold letters on the top said 'SUMMON A DEMON TO DO YOUR BIDDING!' Easy how to guide.
Fuck it- What did you have to lose! Your drunken hazy mind reasoned. Flicking the Dollar Tree book to an random page and tossing it down on the coffee table-
Looking through you saw the ingredients needed. Food, A liquid, lighter, a Vessel and DNA. Chuckling at the rather basic guide you plopped down and poured off a quarter of your bottle of Rum in the 711 cup-
"We recommend 'moon water'- Welp you're getting Captian Morgan-" You laugh as you pour more of the rum into your mouth, hissing at its burn as you look at the next instructions.
"Alright food- We recommend a herb or item you have a dee- fuck that" You grumble looking around and seeing some leftovers from the corner store. Taking the stale hotdog that had been on your table far too long.
"Fuck it- A hotdog will do" You said with a cackle as you shoved it into the cup without care.
"Now play music to set your intent-" You read, Laughing at the weirdness of this all.
"Music huh! Then we shall play the song of my God damn love life!"
With a crying laugh, you opening up your music app and playing what felt appropriate- Circus Music.
"Now last add DNA- May it be hair, Blood, nails. Ha! Yeah right. Got your DNA right here-" You say and spit into the 711 cup like a redneck spitting chew.
(DONT DO THIS AT HOME) after this you look at the instructions- 'Light the alcohol on fire and focus on your intentions' Pulling a lighter out you set the alcohol ablaze and sat there letting the circus music and smell of burning plastic and hotdogs fill your senses.
'I want to get fucked up and beat up a fucking loser!-' Was the only thing you thought before starting to feel yourself starting to black out. Not noticing the flames beginning to burn a bright blue as the shadows of the room wirled around you and took a solid mass.
Soon a shadowy figure eclipsed your form as a the smell of candy apples filled the room.
"HOW ARE YOU SUMMON THE GREAT AND MIGHTY BUGGY THE CLOWN DE-...." He stopped during his monolog and stared at his summoner- passed out on the couch infront of the coffee table while holding the now out lighter used to summon him and a half burned plastic cup, slouched over in a clearly drunken stooper and groaning loudly from discomfort. Waving his hand it detached and tossed the dirty cup into the sink noting the piles of moldy dishes that stopped the fire- Buggy glanced around now, noticing the dirty apartment and disgusting everything of the place.
He cringed at the sight- Looking to you and shaking your shoulder to catch your attention.
"Oi- You. Please tell me you aren't the fucker who summoned me-" He begged, watching you roll your head around confused stating up at the man before you. He wore what looked like a pirate get up- with a bright cherry nose and bright blue hair that reminded you of the sea-
You opened your mouth, prepared to tell this dude to get out of your house- Before that oh so familiar feeling hit you and you puked all over his pants and shoes in a aray of alcohol and chips.
The man giving a short scream at this as he stood there petrified.
"I'm sorry-" You managed before passing out. Leaving the clown standing there with a look of total disgust on his face as he stared at the fresh vomit all over him.
"YOUVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"
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shoezuki · 2 months
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i been pondering my bio dad a lot lately cuz i keep having dreams of him jus kinda. being there. but its been nearly a decade since i severed him off n i dont remember what he looks like so hes like a shadowy mass w blue eyes in my mind. its weird.
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belindaofthesnakes · 1 year
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Tokoyami Fumikage/Reader
Warning: None, just fluff!
All gender friendly
From my Archives.
Ya'll don't understand I read Tokoyami's profile just to fact check some things and it was only then that I learned that his head doesn't have feathers on it, it's hair. (Color me screaming.) But I already wrote this and I like the idea of feathers better so....!
-———-–—
Aizawa had put the class of A-1 through the ringer once again. As you dragged your feet after the rest of your class you tried to remember when training was just running laps around your old school. Those had been such care free days.
Reminiscing about how easy your life had been before getting accepted into UA was almost enough for you to not notice that Aizawa had dismissed the class for the day. Thankfully you didn't have to stand there looking like a complete space cadet thanks to a gentle tap on your shoulder.
Turning your head a pair of red eyes greeted you, belonging to your classmate Fumikage. You two have gotten along since day one and while he's not great at being sociable he does make an effort to check in on you. Actually he phrased it as checking in on your health but hey, same thing.
"Are you well, Y/N?" His voice is smooth with a slightly curious tone to it. You've honestly always loved his voice.
"Oh yeah, just tired." You manage to get out, mentally slapping your self least you be lulled back into a daze by your fascination with listening to his voice. Truthfully you being fatigued after training isn't something new but your slow realization that you have a crush on Fumikage is. It shouldn't have been such a surprise, you get along with him and you don't mind at all when he says something about 'impending darkness' or when he repeats the same thing again in an effort to sound cool. Not to mention whenever he works with others he becomes really sociable and is the best team player you've ever had the pleasure to work with. It's really endeared you to him.
"Nyaa! Want us to carry you?" Dark Shadow, Fumikage's sentient quirk, wastes no time picking up the conversation once he leaps out form behind his partner's back. The sudden movement of the shadowy mass jumping in front of you would have startled you normally. Not that you're scared of him he's just really good at popping up unexpectedly. However today you're just too tired to give him much of a reaction. Instead opting to tap the being on it's beak playfully, while Fumikage gives an annoyed "Tsk." in the background. "I'm alright but thank you."
Touching Dark Shadow is aways an interesting experience, like air is solidifying under you hand so that you can actually feel it. The shadow bird wiggles happily under your hands. In your tired state it's easy to fall into the pattern of stroking the creature. However when you look up at Fumikage he looks one part annoyed by Dark Shadow's behavior and another part embarrassed. You give him a lazy smile, finding his expression to be quite cute.
His feathers fluff up a bit at the look you're giving him and he quickly turns his head to avoid your gaze. "Ahem, well." There's a pause like he's trying to think of the right words but they just aren't coming to him.
"Don't fall too far behind." It comes out more rushed than his usual calm tone of voice but obviously he's getting a bit flustered with Dark Shadow's shameless behavior towards you. You have to give him some credit for his exit strategy though as he does manage to not look like he's rushing away from you. It's a little funny as Dark Shadow sadly trails after the teen, having no choice but to follow him.
You had every intention of following after them had something not caught your attention on the ground. A single gleaming feather. And not just any feather but one belonging to a certain boy that just left your company. Subconsciously you bent down and picked it up, admiring how shiny it was. It was only when you had been holding it for a few seconds that it finally dawned on you that this was weird. This was basically the equivalent of picking up someone's hair. You tried to silently tell yourself that it wasn't a weird impulse to want to keep it or that you had even picked it up to begin with. You pick up junk all the time on the ground. However this was a feather that belonged to Fumikage and it wasn't like you'd just casually picked up some feather belonging to an average bird. Alright, no, you should really drop it. This was stalker 101.
"Y/N…"
You knew that voice anywhere and for once you couldn't bring yourself to look up at your classmate. Fumikage probably came back to see what was taking you so long. Something you'd find sweet if not for your current predicament.
"…."
"…."
"….um."
"Is that one of my feathers?"
"No…."
A blatant lie and you both knew it.
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thedemonicpup · 6 months
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Midnight Skies and Chocolate eyes
By Ripley Salem
                Chapter 6: Mental asphyxiation. 
Further and further than Steve ran and the sounds of screeching and whatever that form was pursuing him in a wild chase striding with ease behind him. Trying not to trip over obstacles that were beneath his feet. Steve though weary jumps and vaults over everything in his escape path, misjudging one of his very elegant leaps Steve falls on his face on the murky floor, getting a mouthful of the weird dust particles and dirt.  The moment these weird particles are inhaled into Steve's panicked lungs with rapid breaths from running, he mind slips ever more deeper into the terrifying abyss that was engulfing him. 
Steve looks up, a little confused as the sound of 5he form that once was pursuing him had vanished, as Steve's eyes travelled around everything seemed eerily quiet, there was no screeching, no sound of loud demogorgon footsteps, it was bizarre. Steve exhales a breath of relief as he realises he isn't being chased anymore, he wasn't being hunted as far as he was aware. Feeling more relaxed and less panicked Steve gets himself back up off the floor lightly brushing himself off and begins a leisurely stroll around.  
The more that Steve walks the darker everything around him becomes. 
Darker….
And Darker…
“Steve?” Comes a voice, Steve looks over to where the sound of the voice was coming from, to which he finds a silhouette, a shadow of someone standing in the distance. To Steve even only seeing this shadowy mass standing a distance away could recognise. The outline of long hair, what looked to be a bandana hanging out the back pocket. Steve was certain this was his beloved munson. 
Steve starts running towards the shadowy form, crying with utter relief to see Eddie. “Eddie!” Steve smiles as his tears roll. As Steve gets to the shadowy form and he reaches out for Eddie, the form disappear with the echoed voice of Eddie “come find me big boy” 
Steve wanted to get to Eddie so desperately, just to find some comfort, something that felt somewhat normal. When Eddie's form disappears Steve shouts out “Eddie! Please! I need you!” to be met with no response. Steve sighs, he knew that Eddie did enjoy making Steve work for his attention, knowing that Eddie was here Steve starts running. 
Another voice torments Steve's mind as he runs with hast to find Eddie. This voice sounded like a mixture of Billy, Gareth and Eddie “your broken Steve, your mind is going insane though you can't see the difference between reality and what your mind is creating. YOU. ARE. GOING. INSANE.”  Those last four words boomed in Steve's head. “No! I'm not going insane! I just want to find MY Eddie and get out of here!” Stece answers the voices in his head. 
These voice only grow louder and louder and louder. 
“YOU ARE INSANE!” 
“YOU ARE DEAD!”
“YOU ARE NO HERO!”
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wanderingnork · 8 months
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Baldur's Gate 3-Inspired Horror Movie Recs
Ah, Baldur's Gate 3. The heroic fantasy dating sim where you can seek adventure, romance, and glory as a character of your own design...while encountering an endless parade of terrors that would make the strongest horror fan cringe. From giant cosmic horror brains to armies of undead, from murder cults to haunted houses, your hero has a lot to overcome. They've got a lot on their mind...and in it, since the mind flayer tadpole chewing on their brain is the first horror they encounter!
If you enjoyed the horror of Baldur's Gate 3, here's a list of movie recommendations inspired by the various terrors on display in the game.
Want more of the cosmic terror, slimy organic architecture, and body horror provided by mind flayers? Check out The Void. A romp of practical effects showing off so very many slimy, icky monsters, body horror, and eventual cosmic horror.
Do you enjoy the zombies, ghouls, and skeletons wandering through the game? Watch the original Night of the Living Dead. You'll see where all the undead horrors of Baldur’s Gate began!
Love Raphael and all of the devils of Hell? Look into John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness. The movie throws open the gates to a marvelously weird, gross, and very much damned hell. Not as sexy as Raphael, for sure, but genuinely horrifying.
Did you think the haunted house questline for Oskar was fun? I suggest Crimson Peak, set in a haunted house full of lies, terrifying ghosts, and dead love.
Grossed out by the myconids' spore servants and fungal body horror? Watch the movie Gaia, where an entire forest is part of a single massive fungal organism...which likes to colonize human visitors as well.
Fascinated and terrified by Auntie Ethel? You might enjoy Pumpkinhead, a tragic tale featuring a witch in a hut in the woods whose gifts come with a terrible, terrible price. 
Found yourself delightfully claustrophobic on the Iron Throne? Be amazed by Underwater, all about explosive tension, high pressure, and rapidly depleting air tanks as an oil rig crew tries to cross the ocean floor.
Lingered too long in the shadow-cursed lands? Go visit Silent Hill (2006). you’re in for a fiery ride through a gloomy, shadowy, monster-filled, utterly corrupted dimension. You'll meet evil doctors, undead nurses, creepy children, horrifying cultists, and more!
In love with all things Bhaal and Dark Urge? You may also enjoy Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Just like Bhaal's temple, the movie is full of blood, body parts, mass murder, a fucked-up family, and a healthy dose of cannibalism.
(Previous Recommendations)
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callixspod · 1 year
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I'm gonna put a little funsy headcanon with my ver. of Narrator, to which I named him Nathaniel Hudsons. The most British name that I could ever come up in my head. Sooo....
Narrator Headcanons, Part 2! 🎙️
His favorite novel is Pride And Prejudice. It's the drama and tension that catches his eye. ✨
They are Demiromantic. Like, he doesn't hate the idea of romance or anything, they're just really closed off and kinda icky dating someone without pure, and real connection.
Androgynous king.
He's chubby he's just wearing really tight pants.
HIPDIPS HIPDIPS HIPDIPS HIPDIPS
has an eating disorder cos to him eating feels weird gross and disgusting. the texture of eating edible mass and putting it in your mouth is really off putting for him.
he has tons of alternative forms other than a human form. He has an abstract version, a typewriter head version, tiny devil on your shoulder version, biblically accurate design, etc! (I'll be posting them as soon as I'm done with school)
Nathan has this... weird habit on watching stanley sleep. he doesn't have a reason why he does it he just likes to stare at stanley doing, nothing. (Stanley had to swat him away with a pillow to stop.)
his extra arms are kind of shadowy and inky. he uses them to hold things and rearrange the models of the Parable. like a dollhouse. oh did I mention he can be big?
the fucker can hover so if you see him floating around and start chasing you that just means he's in his period. (jk)
instead of a pen, he takes off his gloves and uses his inky fingertips to write on paper. convenient isn't it?
his vitilgo patterns starts to appear on the Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe. He didn't have one yet on the 2013 version.
and thats it! I'm really glad I got to fleshen out his character a bit more so im satisfied with this already.
okay bye bye :))))
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dd122004dd · 11 months
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Their Mother 2
The mother of the Eldritch terrors wants to retireve them from the Spellmans clutches.
This is for @liliyhsblog who asked me for a part 2. I hope its as satisfying as part 1.
Warnings: Bloodshed, battles, tentacles, genocide, decapitation, murder, end of the world
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~Previously~
“How stupid of you, to bring your only bargaining chip to the battlefield. One thing you seemed to have forgotten about Pandora’s box, is that it released all the plagues on the Earth.” Saying this, she opened the box, letting her children out once again, to destroy the Earth and consume it.
~
Watching the chaos unfold, the mother smiled with glee.
First from the box emerged darkness, her eldest daughter stood in all her shadowy glory. Her form was smokey, as if her powers could not decide on a final form. With hollowed out eyes and tiny obsidians embedded in her forehead, the eldest eldritch terror stood proud and tall. Glancing at her mother, she smiled till cracks appeared in her face. She turned towards the witches, quickly losing her smile.
Next came her son, the uninvited. He emerged from the box, disheveled with his untidy clothes and tangled hair. The mother tsked before waving her hand, immediately her son’s hair was returned to its former midnight glory, his hair was neatly braided like the Vikings of old. His sickle was sharpened and gleamed in the light while his clothes changed from tattered rags to armor, black leather armor that seemed easily penetrable yet worked as an impenetrable shield.
Glancing down at himself he smiled widely, giddy at his new attire. He smiled up at his mother, like he used to when he was still young. He nodded his head in gratitude and moved to embrace her but she stopped him. Reunions could wait for they were still in serious danger from the coven before them.
After him came her third son, the weird. They slithered out of the box, an octopus-like mass crawled to the mother then climbed up her body, perching itself on her shoulder.
Grinning widely at the Weird’s presence she gently ran her fingers over their head, restoring them to their original form. Feeling the familiar power running through their body the weird morphed into their original form which they had lost millennia ago. On first glance they looked deceptively human, an androgynous human yet on closer glance one would notice their hands shifted from tentacles to fingers and back. On their tongue were suckers, meant to pull in their victims.
Cracking their neck unnaturally the weird glared fiercely at the coven before putting on a menacingly charming smile. His pearly teeth and insidious expression made the Spellmans’ almost wretch.
After the weird, the imp of the perverse emerged. Cradling her child’s golden statue, the mother was enraged. What had the mortals done to her child? How could they turn him into a mere trinket to use as they wished? Sighing in anger she whispered, “Awaken,” the moment the word left her lips the imp started moving, as if it were waking up after a long slumber. Ruby eyes stared at the mother before a sharp grin formed on the little creature’s face. Slowly the imp unveiled its tiny wings and perched itself on the mother’s shoulder, caressing the large golden globe in its hands with its tongue, tempted to pervert reality in accordance with its will.
Next came the cosmic. The being was an intimate part of the cosmos, the unattainable and uncontainable force took a mortal visage. The cosmos was a pale, lean man dressed in a hanfu woven from the very fabric of the universe itself with spinning galaxies and nebulas almost alive on the fabric. His long black tresses trailed down his back. He was the picture of tranquility yet within his mind, chaos reigned.
The returned took the form of a corpse, mostly well-preserved but rotting in a few places. She was deathly beautiful yet she moved unnaturally, as if she was a mere puppet for a puppeteer. She was dressed like a bride, lace covered her arms and a veil covered her hair yet her dress was stained with blood and dirt, as if she recently crawled out of a grave.
The twin of the void emerged next. He was a tall man in a black suit and a hat. Mysterious and strange the man looked like a regular human with his black gloves yet he was anything but. He was created to be the yang to her yin. He was supposed to satiate her hunger, the one in charge of caring for her yet after millennia away from her he was remiss in his duties, leading to her growing impoverished. He was and is, the endless.
Lastly the void emerged. The void took the form of a gaunt little girl in a white dress with frayed hair, a far cry from the terrifying terror she used to be. Hunched over, she gripped her stomach as her hollow eyes stared at the Spellman coven. Licking her lips with her black tongue she stared at her potential meal, prepared to temporarily satiate her hunger with the young coven when her mother stopped her.
The mother looked at her children, disappointed in their current state. She tsked before giving them a little of her power to sustain themselves. Her once powerful creations were reduced to their impoverished states by the measly coven before them. Yet she knew not even their patron goddess Hecate would be able to defend the coven if she chose to intervene.
The coven, however were unwilling to submit to the intimidating terrors and had instead called upon their allies. Heaven, Hell and everything in between. Demons, ghouls and other creatures of all kinds accompanied the Spellmans in a quest for the survival of their universe. Seeing the eldritch terrors out of Panadora’s box Hilda stepped forward saying, “Well, now that you have your ‘children’ back why don’t you leave us alone?”
Chuckling darkly she answered, “Because I want to see your bodies scattered on this field in pieces, I want to feel your metallic blood flowing down my throat as I claim the debt owed to me.”
“What debt?”
“Your lives.”
As soon as the words fell from her lips the battle commenced. The witches fought well, reciting spells and moving elegantly against the attacks of the terrors yet it was not enough. Many witches fell, many were ripped apart and others ran in an tempt to save themselves yet it was all for naught.
The once green grass was a sticky amber, decorated with various body parts. The last of the Spellmans, Hilda and Zelda stood at the center of the field, looking at their surroundings with anguish, their coven was obliterated, the angels and demons torn to shreds. The head of their beloved niece was in the hands of the mother as she grinned maniacally at the pair.
“So much hassle for a little half-born, and yet, she died so easily. I’m disappointed,” she said with mock disappointment before tossing the blonde head at the pair.
Hilda shuddered as she fell to her knees, her grief consuming her as Zelda stood her ground, willing her tears away.
“Now, for a special punishment for you, you shall see your world get destroyed before you, too are consumed,” saying this, the pair were frozen in their places as the mother motioned for her children to finish what they had started.
First came the darkness and her everlasting cold, no one could escape their sins, their guilt, her torment.
Second came the uninvited, he ripped through the populace, feasting on their unwelcoming hearts as his powers grew.
Third came the weird, succumbing the Earth in water, crushing humanity’s cities and submerging them with the creatures of the depths that laid in wait for centuries.
Fourth came the Imp, he corrupted reality, twisting the very foundations of nature akin to a child playing with playdough. His creations were maddening, confusing, chaotic, refusing to settle. The very foundations of reality were cracking, crumbling as he continued.
Fifth came the Cosmic, he brought together the three realms, Heaven, Hell and Earth, they crashed in a symphony of pained screams that echoed through the vastness till everything went silent.
Sixth came the Returned, the dead arose to bear witness to the end, the deceased tormented those who remained, those who fought, those who had hope.
Seventh came the Endless, he brought with him an endless cycle of torment for the mortals, a cycle of eternity only breakable by one. He imbued his powers into the chaotic Earth, creating an unending paradox.
Eight came the Void, the last, the end of all things, she consumed the chaotic, fractured reality with much glee. Finally, she was satiated for the first time in millennia.
In the seven days it took the Christian God to create the world, it took eight days to destroy his creations, the very foundations of his fragile reality were shattered by the Eldritch terrors, it was almost poetic.
After her thirst for revenge was satiated, the Mother took her children with her, into a different dimension in order to grow their own powers once more so that they’d never be as weak as they were, ever again.
Under their mother, the terrors flourished, their powers of destruction grew equal to the Element’s powers of creation. The Universe was now more balanced than it had been in centuries.
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 year
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when Mark goes all shadow mode is there like a…certain look he takes on? Or is it just kind of like an incomprehensible all over the places kind of look? (If that makes sense lol) does he have control on what he looks like when he’s shadowy?
I have this oc that is made of shadows and is able to take on certain forms, so I’m just intrigued about the kind of ideas you have for a more shadowy creature. Like seeing ideas people come up with for different kinds of funky fellers
Kinda? Most of the time when traveling in shadow form it's just a kinda. indiscernible mass, kinda like a swarm of bugs, but sometimes when only partially taking shadow form, Mark's face gets. weird. like. more teeth, white eyes, maybe claws if his arms are affected. things like that. though instances of that are. rare.
Mark doesn't like the other forms he has in shadow form like those, being the reason he doesn't. consciously take them most of the time. Though he COULD do them at will if he wanted to.
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mollymagician · 1 year
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I actually finished the second chapter of my weird little street artist!Dream AU
I am so proud of myself. Like, so proud, guys.
*************************
A week passed. Slowly the sunflowers faded from the New Inn’s bricks, distorted and worn away by rain and curious fingers.
Hob had spent a good amount of time scrolling through the various social media accounts run by enthusiasts dedicated to cataloging Dream’s work and any bits of personal information that they could gather about the artist in question, which was: nothing. Zero.
Well, aside from one blogger who claimed to have seen a shadowy figure lurking around one of the murals at two in the morning and described them as…tall.
Yes, tall, Hob thought. Legs for days. And the hair’s got to add at least two inches.
Matthew was right, he had been out of touch lately, but this sort of thing wasn’t normally in his wheelhouse anyway. He appreciated art and what it meant to the world but he had enough personal artistic ability to fill the tip of his pinky finger. Literally. He’d broken the ice with more than one tough group of students by illustrating his lecture on the fly with horribly drawn graphs and chaotic stick figures. Still, he could recognize talent when he saw it.
He had a few favorites saved on his phone. On the side of a building just off Richmond Green, an expanse of blue and white, shot through with swirling figures in every earthy shade—children, it took Hob a moment to realize. Children running against a vibrant blue sky. Tucked just out of sight of the bustling crowds at the Tower of London was a flowing mass of sunset hues shot through with streaking dark figures that could only be ravens.
On the side of the old derelict White Horse Tavern, where Hob had spent a good chunk of his youth faffing about with his mates, a white figure leaping against emerald green, rampaging, like it had escaped it’s hill in Uffington and didn’t plan on being caught again.
The talent was obvious…but that wasn’t all it was. Hob remembered reading a line somewhere—it’s not what a horse looks like, it’s what a horse IS. It’s what they all were, these weird works of art, weren’t they? Things distilled down to the essence. Yes, the artwork was arresting. Yes, the man who made it was just as striking. But Hob couldn’t explain the feeling that there was something there beyond what he was seeing, like a magic eye painting with a third hidden layer, and just as frustrating.
Or maybe month and a half into his sabbatical from what he jokingly referred to as his ‘side hustle’ was long enough for his brain to be going a little stir-crazy.
Then one morning, it happened again.
“Woah,” Matthew said. “That sure is…something.”
They stood staring at the new mural spanning the Inn’s northern wall. Radiating tongues of yellow and orange emerging from a peculiar dark background. The wall was smooth here, and the image had less of the feel of stained-glass and instead was a tumult of swirling line and color.
“I can’t tell if this means you shouldn’t take any more flirting advice from me, or my flirting advice is 100% on point.”
Hob slanted him a look. “I didn’t take any flirting advice from you, if it makes you feel better,” he said.
“That’s probably your best bet, actually.”
“Even if I had, I don’t think he’d threaten to burn down the place because I used the worlds worst pickup line on him.” Hob stepped up to the wall, reaching up to trace the shape of the image carefully without touching the easily-smeared strokes. “Look, here. The way the light curves here…the mantle. It’s a—a hearth, a fireplace. Like the one back in the old White Horse. See?”
“Oh,” Matthew said. “Huh.”
This strange offering was on a side of the building hidden mostly from public view, between the glorified storage crate they called Dar’s Gardening Shed and a stacked pile of unused planters. He didn’t think there’d be any gawkers this time, Hob himself had only happened upon it that morning by chance. Of course, Dream seemed to favor out-of-the-way locations, were there were swaths of empty wall and not many observers around to interfere. But this felt different. This felt…personal.
As Matthew lifted his phone to snap a shot, Hob said, “Hey. Uh. Maybe don’t post this one.”
“What?” he squawked. “It’s free advertising, dude. Why not?” At Matthews perplexed look, Hob could only shrug.
He didn’t have to wait long for it to click “Oooohhh. I see.”
“Matt.”
“Aww.” Matthew followed him back around the front of the building and through the main entrance. For all he looked broad and soft-edged, once he latched his brain on something, he was relentless. It was like being pecked to death by ducks. Pecked to death by something, anyway. “Oh come on, man, it’s adorable.”
“Matthew, zip it.” Hob ducked past the bar, hoping he could make a quick exit into the kitchen. This wasn’t a conversation they could have out here, not if he wanted his dignity intact. Any moment now—
“Not that I’m not a fan of anyone telling Matt to zip it, but why are we telling Matt to zip it this time in particular?”
Hob sighed. Too late, he was doomed.
Dar’s russet head poked through the kitchen doors, followed by the rest of her, busily tying on an apron. They’d just opened for the day and only a few regulars had so far trickled in, at least, which meant there would be minimal witnesses to what he was about to endure.
“Our resident mysterious artist left him a token of affection on the wall in the alley and he wants to keep it all to himself.”
“Ooh!” Dar said brightly. “Tall Dark and Spooky strikes again!?” Matthew handed her his phone where the photo of the yellow and gold flames swirled in miniature. She gave a little whistle. “Oh my!”
Hob dragged a hand over his face. “It’s not a token of affection.”
“Wanna bet?” Matthew pulled out his wallet and waggled it. “Bet you ten bucks. Pounds. Whatever. Shit. What country am I in?”
“—and he’s not our mysterious artist,” Hob continued, undeterred.
“He’s decorating your pub and he likes my tea,” Dar said decisively. “That means he’s ours. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
“Actually I’m pretty sure most of the time you do.”
Hob wondered if noon really was too early to start drinking.
“I’m sure he’d be fine with the attention,” Matthew said, “considering that he’s dropping this stuff all over town.”
“No one knows anything about this dude, Matt,” Hob argued. But. You do, a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. You know how he likes his tea, you know his hands look cold, you know his eyes are the bluest thing you’ve ever seen— Hob shook it off and plucked the phone from Dar’s hand, closing the screen and poking it back into the front pocket of Matthew’s shirt. “You didn’t see the look he gave me last time he was here. Maybe he doesn’t actually want any kind of attention at all.”
“Well,” Dar said, flipping a dishtowel over one shoulder. “I can guess at least one type of attention he wants.” She looked past Hob and jutted her chin towards the door. Slowly, trying to be nonchalant and failing, Hob turned to glance behind him.
…you know his eyes are the bluest thing you’ve ever seen and he keeps looking at you with them…
Dream edged in through the door of the pub, cautiously, and headed straight for his usual table. He moved, Hob thought, as though the space around him was packed with rickety shelves covered in teacups. Slow and precise. Or, as Matthew would say, like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. As soon as his eyes met Hob’s he glanced quickly away and busied himself with pulling the ever-present sketch book from his satchel.
“WELP I should be—“
“Oh look, I’m just gonna head—“
Hob watched in resigned amusement as Matthew and Dar both suddenly discovered they had somewhere else to be and nearly ran into each other trying to get there. He sighed, and set about making a cup of tea.
He didn’t know what possessed him, this time, to make a second. Or to sit down, easy as you please in the chair across from his stranger, as though they had a standing date. Maybe a little of his old confidence was coming back from wherever it had been banished to over this past exceptionally shitty year.
Dream, who had been very studiously ignoring him for the last five minutes, actually gave a startled jump when a mug appeared in front of him, followed by a whole other human. He watched Hob with an expression of guarded surprise as he settled into his seat, cleared his throat, and extended a hand across the table. “Robert Gadling. I, er, hope you don’t mind me being wildly presumptuous.” To his delight, Dream reached out, slowly as though he was expecting to be bitten, and met his hand. His grip was firm, but cold. Hob resisted the sudden fierce urge to take his hands and wrap them around the mug of tea he’d just set down.
“I don’t mind, Mr. Gadling. I. Was.” He looked down at the blank page open in front of him, seemingly at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you,” Hob said. “I just wanted to come over and thank you, I suppose.”
Dreams eyebrows crept up. “Thank me?”
“For the—“ Hob gestured over Dream’s shoulder. “Artwork. It’s remarkable, really.”
Dream opened his mouth to speak, closed it. Tried again. “You don’t mind,” he finally stated, not quite a question.
Hob huffed a laugh. “Do I—? No I don’t mind at all. It’s brilliant. I needed something to brighten up this bastard of a winter and you’ve done a spectacular job of it.” Dream glanced away with what appeared to be a blush coloring his worryingly pale face. “I just had one question, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“No. Please.”
“Why us?”
Dreams head tipped questioningly to one side and Hob hastened on. “I wondered how you choose your…locations. There’s always some inspiration, isn’t there? Was just curious what it was about this old place that inspired you twice.”
Dream stared at him for a moment, a parade of emotions flickering across his face so quickly, it was impossible to parse them. His eyes dropped back to the table. “I came by chance. I was out looking for. Inspiration, as you said, I suppose.” He spoke like someone who hadn’t in so long that he’d lost the knack, Hob thought. A crying shame, with that voice. “I saw you, and your employees. Laughing together. Often. I was…interested in your experience.”
“Friends,” Hob said. Dreams eyes flicked up to meet his briefly and he smiled. “I inherited the place. Been in the family for generations. Doesn’t really feel like mine, you know? It belongs to the community at this point, I’m just here to keep the paperwork in order. Knew I’d be taking it over one day, but if I didn’t have friends helping me out here who knew what they were doing I’d have made a complete mess of it.” Hob realized he was prattling on, as he was wont to do, and took a gulp of tea in an effort to rein in his mouth. “I’m sorry. You said you were interested in our…experience?”
Hob watched Dream move his fingertips over the surface of the blank sketchbook page, producing a gentle rhythmic susurrus. “Yes…I…have had precious few of my own. I find inspiration in watching other’s appreciation for life and this place…there’s so much life to appreciate here.” Oh. He was blushing. It was fucking delightful. “I hope you don’t find that. Intrusive.”
“Of course not,” he said. “It’s literally what we’re here for.”
Dream said, “You were very kind, Mr. Gadling. The last time we spoke. It was…it’s own kind of inspiration.”
Ohhhh dear. Oh good grief. He was in trouble. Hob had no idea what his face was doing. He couldn’t even imagine. He coughed to clear the sudden tightness in his throat. “Call me Hob,” he said. “Everyone else does. No one uses my proper name unless I’m in trouble for something.”
“Hob.” Dream said. His mouth curved into the smallest of smiles. Something in Hob’s gut gave a little delighted jump and warmth bloomed, down beneath his breastbone. “My name—is—“ He paused and swallowed. Hob could see him battling forward through something, some wall, and had the irrational urge to cheer for him. “Dream” he finally managed. “You may call me Dream.”
The warmth in Hob’s belly grew, filling his chest. Knowing the name was nothing compared to being gifted the name. “Well, Dream, you’re welcome to come back anytime. Avail yourself of the blank wall space.” Hob grinned, hopeful. “And the experience.”
Dream was silent for a moment, then took a quiet breath. “The tea is also very good.”
It startled a laugh out of Hob. “That’s Dar’s doing, she blends it. Grows some of the herbs herself out there in the spring. She’s got a terrific hangover remedy if you ever need it.”
“I don’t often drink alcohol but I will keep that in mind.”
From the corner of his eye, Hob had noticed the steady motion of Dream’s fingers against the paper turning jerky and irregular. Now he’d abandoned it altogether in favor of twisting them together over and over. His shoulders were tensing, rounding a bit. Ah. It was time, Hob thought, to let him experience his inspiration from afar. But they’d made a start. He thought it was a good start.
Hob picked up his half-drunk mug and lifted it in a little salute. “Right then, I’ll…just leave you to the—the creative processes.”
Dream wrapped his hands around the mug in front of him, just as Hob had imagined, though without his own curved over top of them. “Until next time, then.” And there it was again, that faint smile.
Hob beat a retreat back to his flat. He was only halfway up the stairs when his phone began buzzing its way out of his pocket. Dar, as expected.
Okay we want the story. Spill!
Goddammit. I think I owe Matt a tenner
Told you
…………………..
Next time came later that week, when Dream appeared with his sketchbook and awkward smile and absurdly sexy voice, which Hob coaxed out of him for ten whole minutes before it was obvious he needed a break from human interaction. Hob gathered his small victories where he could.
The warm feeling in his gut, it stayed with him. It was gentle, soothing, some invisible softness blanketing all the rough-edged hurts he’d collected over the past year. It was…striking.
Which was why it was so profoundly obvious to him the moment it was gone.
The day started off wrong-footed in a dozen small and frustrating ways. It was one of those bloody wretched freezing winter days, devoid of snow or any kind of charm, with a biting wind that seemed hell-bent on causing as much trouble as possible. The Inn was busy with customers who mostly just seemed fed up with the outdoors and wanted to forget it existed for awhile.
Hob was helping out behind the bar, pulling orders for a surprisingly rowdy pre-dinner crowd and keeping an eye on one customer in particular—red sweater, surly expression, toeing Matthew’s cut-off line for acceptable drunkenness. He just caught Dream stepping in, huddled in a coat that didn’t look near heavy enough and looking even more like a frozen scarecrow than usual. Quickly he threw together Dream’s usual order, with the addition of a large muffin on a plate, and hurried over. “My friend, hello. I have a job for you today.”
Dream’s brows lifted slightly as Hob set it all down in front of him. “A job involving…muffins?”
Hob grinned. “We started bringing things in from that new bakery down the street, Gilbert’s, maybe help give them a boost. Matthew’s idea.” He nudged the muffin forward and grinned. “Taste test for me, give me a report later.”
Dream opened his mouth, but a crash and raised voices in the direction of the bar drowned out whatever it was he was about to say. Hob looked over his shoulder and swore. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.”
It was Anita, a friend of Dar’s, only two weeks on the job. She stood frozen in the middle of a circle of broken glass from a dropped tray and bystanders who were half out of their seats with the look of folks obviously ready to start throwing punches but unsure how to go about it. The man in the red sweater had one hand locked around her wrist and what could only be described as a leer on his face.
Coming up on them, Hob heard her furious “…I said shove off.”
Red Sweater slurred, “I see you talkin’ but ‘m not hearing anything worth listenin to, yet.”
“Oooh, bad idea mate,” she said. And then Hob’s hand was coming down on his forearm, fingers digging, and he released her with a pained shout.
“Out. Now.,” Hob said.
“Fuck you arsehole, what, you own the place?”
“Actually, yeah,” Matthew said, stepping up to Anita and gently pulling her out of range.
“He does.”
Hob leaned in close and growled, “It’s not that loud in here, I know you heard me.” He shifted his grip to grab a handful of red wool at the back of the man’s neck and pulled. “You can leave now, or I can walk into the back and just let the regulars decide how to sort you out.”
The man wrenched himself out of Hob’s grasp and honked a few more drunken obscenities around at no one in particular grabbing his coat and staggering off. Hob watched him go, resisting the urge to fling him bodily through the door. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dream, his head bent over his sketchbook, pencil moving intently.
It was pure dumb luck that he saw what followed, it happened so quickly.
The man was stalking unsteadily towards the exit, which took him directly past Dream’s table. As he neared it, Dream looked up and made the most peculiar gesture with his hand—Hob nearly missed it—as though he were lifting something from the table in front of him and flicking it away.
The banana peel hit the floor just as Red Sweater came parallel with Dream’s table. His shoe hit the peel, and in true slapstick fashion, his foot shot out from under him and he landed flat on his arse.
A wave of snickering passed through the crowd. Someone in the back hooted, “OH SMOOTH.”
Red Sweater scrambled to his feet, gave the room in general the finger, and slapped his way out the doors. The usual buzz of the Inn resumed as everyone went back to their conversations. As though an absolutely impossible thing had not just occurred right in front of them.
“What a dick,” Matthew said, appearing at Hob’s side with a broom. “Hey, you okay, boss?”
“What? I— yeah.” Hob shook his head. Nodded his head. Dragged his fingers through his hair. “Is Nita okay?”
“She’ll be okay, I think, she’s taking a break. You sure you are? Because you look like someone just slapped you with a fish. Hey! You know, there’s a word for that? It’s—“
“Hold that thought, Matt,” Hob said, reaching out to pat him absently on the shoulder. Feeling cold prickling across his skin, he made his way over to Dream’s table.
The table was empty. The tea sat untouched. The muffin was missing. Dream was gone.
Hob bent and picked up the banana peel, staring at the thing dangling limply in his hand. It was. A banana peel. Slightly squashed from being tread on. He didn’t know exactly what he’d expected, but that’s what he had. Feeling slow and stupid, he looked down at his feet and there on the floor—a steak of yellow, like chalk ground across the wood.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
Standing there by the door, he felt the cold rushing in, chilling him for the first time in what seemed like days.
Suddenly he was moving, ducking into the kitchen and through the back employee door. Turning the corner, he skirted around the odds and ends that littered the narrow space and pulled back to look at the wall where the orange flames had swirled.
They were…gone.
“What the bloody hell?”
The piece was still there, mostly, a little worse for wear. Hob could see the framing background details, but the flames themselves were gone. Instead there was nothing but empty space, clean bare wall, not even traces of clinging pigment left behind.
The wind blew sharply down the alley, and Hob shivered.
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The shadowy mass rushes over to HS Kel, surrounding his neck in a vice-like grip.
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"L-look, t-that weird M-mari dared me to do it..."
"SHE WHAT?" The mass whips around to SCP-6709, who is smug af.
"Hey, I just wanted to see if he'd do it!"
Please... put the child down... Surely we can resolve this like mature individuals...
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gladiatorofthevoid · 1 year
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Rise April Challenge 23: Spooky
Prev - Next - Masterpost Ao3 Link: Here (Not my finest work, but it's okay. I like writing horror, but I didn't want to lean too heavily into that, so here.)
Flint lives in New York, has for many years now, he’s seen some weird stuff. That means that he rarely gets surprised any more. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get scared.
He had been scouting out an abandoned sewar tunnel for a few weeks now. It seems that’s out of view most security cameras and he hadn’t seen anyone else using it for... unsavory business. So, Flint thought it would be a good place to do some not exactly legal art.
The tunnel was dark and smelt of old rainwater, the kind of water was tainted with the oils and gases of the city and dragged them down through storm drains, but there wasn't the smell of sewage and that was good enough for Flint.
He flicked on his flashlight and walked deeper in, the sound of his footsteps bouncing endlessly into the darkness. The light from the entrance was soon gone, leaving Flint only with the pale artificial light in his hand. The air was still, and the young vandal felt the clinging, dusty cold that came with being encased underground. It felt like the tunnel was holding its breath, staring out at him with wide unseen eyes.  
An image entered Flint’s mind of a tall, slim, shadowy figure, just a step or two behind him. Following. Waiting. He could see the way it glided forward, soundlessly so as not to alert its victim. He could see the way the darkness was stuffed and shoved into an into a tall, bulging, shape that could almost be a man. And Flint could see the way its long slim fingers reached out to grab his head and yank it straight off his-
He whipped around and shined the light right where the things face would be.  
There was nothing there.
Of course not. He was just creeped out from being in a dark tunnel alone. It was normal that his imagination acted up. Flint shook his head and carried on.
-
A few minutes later Flint had stopped walking and was working on a section of wall, illuminated by his flashlight laying on the ground. The smell of paint driving off the old rain smell, and the shaking of spray cans driving off the echoes.
He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to paint and was mostly hoping inspiration would strike as he started to work. It was going okay, and he could feel himself slipping into a nice artistic trance when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the walls. He froze, wondering if someone had seen him go into the sewers and thought he was an easy target to rob, or if it was a cop.  
Except, it wasn't coming from the direction of the entrance.
It was coming from deeper inside.
Flint didn't move. He could feel his heart in his chest jumping and his mind overflowed with the images of true crime shows and horror movies.
The noise stopped, and Flint twisted his head to face it.
He could just see it, the beam of his flashlight barely managing to reveal its outline while the rest of it was cloaked in shadow. It was huge, almost twice his height and just as wide, with bulging masses of muscles the size of his head. Flint could make out the pointed shape of spikes running up and down the scaly skin of its arms. He saw more spikes curling down his back, and a few splitting from his shoulders, sharper and longer than the others. It was hunched over slightly and pinned Flint in place with two blank, glowing, white eyes.  
Flint could hear his breath hitch, and his legs shake.
He didn't want to die. Oh God, is he going to die?
The thing tilted its head and leaned slowly closer to the light. Flint could just make out the glimpse of bright red around its wrists, when something on the thing shoulder moved and two more glowing eyes opened and stared at him.
Flint ran. He abandoned his paint and flashlight, and just ran. Ran through the endless darkness towards the entrance, feeling the air rush past him and the walls closing around him, trying to trap him inside. They were inches away from touching his skin, he knew it. even if he couldn't see it, he knew it. He just had to get out.
Had to get out. Had to get out. HadtogetouthadtogetouthadtogETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT-
he collapsed into the light of the sun right of the tunnel and stared back into the darkness. Nothing came out after him.
After a few minutes of catching his breath, Flint went home. He never went back for his supplies. He never told anyone, never posted about it on the internet, he knew no one would believe him. And he figured that if he never went back into that thing's territory, it would leave him alone.
He didn't want to know what it was; he didn't care. As the saying goes “live and let live.” So, if it let him live, he would do the same. He figured that was fair.
-
Raph blinked at the spot where the artist had stood and just put his head in his hand. Dang it, he hadn't meant to scare the kid. Mikey yawned from his spot on Raph’s back.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing,” Raph said. “Let's get you to bed, you don't think your Sleepy-Little-Brother act gonna get me not to tell Pops you were out late painting again.”
“But I am tired. It's not an act if I’m actually tired.”
Prev - Next - Masterpost Ao3 Link: Here Please check out @zee-rambles who came up with this challenge, and look at @rise-april-art-challenge to see more submissions by other fans. Please give me feedback if there is anything I should work on.
@nickelodeon Bring Back Rise
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spider-xan · 2 years
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June 24 - Jonathan Harker's Journal
I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole over me. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable position, so that I could enjoy more fully the aërial gambolling. Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! Quicker and quicker danced the dust; the moonbeams seemed to quiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and more they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And then I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ran screaming from the place. The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised from the moonbeams, were those of the three ghostly women to whom I was doomed.
September 17 - Memorandum left by Lucy Westenra
The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert.
The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night!
November 5 - Memorandum by Abraham Van Helsing
In the cold hour the fire began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a chill mist. Even in the dark there was a light of some kind, as there ever is over snow; and it seemed as though the snow-flurries and the wreaths of mist took shape as of women with trailing garments. All was in dead, grim silence only that the horses whinnied and cowered, as if in terror of the worst. I began to fear—horrible fears; but then came to me the sense of safety in that ring wherein I stood. I began, too, to think that my imaginings were of the night, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and all the terrible anxiety. It was as though my memories of all Jonathan's horrid experience were befooling me; for the snow flakes and the mist began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as though a shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him. And then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror as men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so that they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when these weird figures drew near and circled round.
Then, alas! I knew. Did I not, I would soon have learned, for the wheeling figures of mist and snow came closer, but keeping ever without the Holy circle. Then they began to materialise till—if God have not take away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes—there were before me in actual flesh the same three women that Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat.
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chaoscrawls · 1 year
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🎲 hand it over!!
kiss roulette inspired by the infamous "i want the k" meme by deactivated tumblr user tastcful. send 🎲 to generate a kiss! potential suggestive/nsf.w themes may appear
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28. A kiss in parting
“Don't try to talk your way out of this. I don't want to hear it. Don't come back. I mean it this time.” She hisses at them, staring them down. Her sharp, fierce eyes bore holes into the god, the full weight of her vitriol and determination weighing down on them. It was at this moment they became aware that it wasn’t like this before. This time she wasn’t simply frustrated and lashing out; this time she well and truly wanted this.
“I see.” Nyarlathotep responds plainly. The temptation to try to manipulate her, to tease or provoke her crossed their mind, but something about that look told them that they would get nowhere. “If that is what you truly want. Then so be it.” They take a step closer. “I don’t suppose you will be releasing me from our little contract? You just simply wish to send me away and call me back closer to your expiration?”  
There’s a weird look in the chaos creature’s eyes, an emotion that is hard to place even for themselves. Now mere inches in front of her, their hand stretches out to cup her cheek lightly. A taloned thumb brushes over the soft skin of her cheek as they hold her formidable gaze. “Don’t bother. I won’t come.” Their voices are a quiet buzz now, and despite the harshness of the words, their tone is melancholy. 
Even if she thought she was in control, capable of sending them away, they would not allow it so easily. They would let her know their terms too. “Even if you beg, or scream or cry. I still will not come.” With careful and deliberate movements they angle their skull down so that their face is in front of her own. “Goodbye, little pup.” Tenderly they press the sharp teeth against the flesh of her lips, sealing their parting. 
The moment they separate the god is already beginning to vanish, the shadowy mass dissolving into the air, following her command.
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