#and then is shocked when he starts to unravel and is finally for once open with her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesagedahlia · 3 months

Text

HOLLYWEIRD READINGS PRESENTS: SEAN ‘DIDDY’ COMBS CHART ANALYSIS * PART 1*

*TW: mentions of ab*se, violence, r*pe, and s*xual assault*

INTRODUCTION

Sean Combs has been well known as the hip hop mogul of Bad Boy Records since the 90’s, as well as his affiliations with the likes of Notorious B.I.G. and Lil Kim to name a couple of the many artists to come out of that era of hip hop, but if you were alive and aware of the 90’s you wouldn’t be shocked to know that the name ‘Diddy’ was oftentimes entangled into controversial situations and conspiracies. It would even be safe to say that there’s a conspiracy that Diddy, as a gatekeeper of the hip hop community, was in fact a very controlling, domineering & aggressive kind of person. In true Scorpio fashion, a lot of his dealings have been kept under the radar and were never pressed upon, even suppressed from the media as much as possible. UNTIL RECENTLY, not only has Diddy been paying out his former signees from the label (after not paying them properly in the first place), but Cassie Ventura also brought up a civil lawsuit against Diddy which was settled within 24 hours. Cassie was another signee to Diddy’s label, as well as his long-time ‘girlfriend’ of 10 years. They separated around 2019 which was coincidently when her contract under him finally dissolved. Since then, she’s been happily married with two children, but if you are familiar with the reading I did on Cassie some time ago, Diddy was coming up a lot as trying to get in contact with her or keeping tabs on her through different means. Though I never directly focused on any abuse of any kind, there felt to be a very dark presence around their connection, and a lot of it was operated under Diddy’s control. Which is why Diddy still to this day has such a profound effect on Cassie, which has helped her develop an addiction problem among other psychological trauma. Before I even pick apart their synastry, I’m going to pick apart Diddy’s natal chart to the best of my abilities, for the ones in the back-left that don’t believe he is capable if the things outlined in the lawsuit. What tipped me off was Diddy’s acceptance speech for his BET Lifetime Achievement Award received around June of 2023, with the way he mentioned Cassie and the words he chose. Considering what I picked up in my reading before, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cassie felt highly triggered and threatened by his speech once she caught wind of what was said. So honestly the lawsuit came as a shock, not because I wasn’t privy to such or I didn’t see it coming, but only because I didn’t expect her to stand up to him so soon after separating (it’s been roughly 3-4 years). To mention briefly, Cassie is experiencing a Lunar Nodal return (the North/South node lining back up in the position they were in at the time of her birth) which is ironically the Aries North/Libra South axis, clearly spelling out how it was in this lifetime that she was to break the mode of ‘people-pleasing’ and dependency and being inclined to stick up for oneself, especially in romantic relationships (South Node in Libra crossing her Venus placement). Cassie is an extremely strong person for asserting her boundaries in this way and now that she has exposed him and finally can work toward her healing, she was also able to open the floodgate of something far beyond her, which I’m assuming that’s also what she wanted. The past month in me conducting this report, more lawsuits of the sexual nature are starting to surface, which only confirms that this is the beginning of an unraveling within Diddy’s proverbial closet, in which his skeletons pile up.

There’s no question of Sean’s impact & influence within the industry and that impact is reflected in his chart, however this specific report will be focusing in on relevant patterns and configurations within the chart that reflect certain conspiracies and allegations:

* DISCLAIMER: FOR EDUCATIONAL/ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY; THIS IS AN ASTROLOGICAL CASE STUDY THROUGH NATAL/SYNASTRY CHARTS, ANY ASTORLOGICAL CONFIGURATIONS THAT I MEANTION IN THIS READING THAT ARE RELATIVE TO THE READER ARE NOT PRONE TO THE ANALYSIS THAT I CONCLUDE WITHIN THIS READING, THEY ARE MANIFESTATIONS OF THE ENERGY PRESENT WITHIN A SPECIFIC CHART COMPARED TO THE PUBLIC INFORMATION REGARDING THE INDIVIDUAL*

*This will be citing the subject’s most relevant traits regarding recent news through their energy signatures*

MARS IN CAPRICORN

As a lot of people may be aware of, Sean is a person who demands respect for his reputation in the industry. Being a Capricorn Mars native, I can see this being one of the main culprits that contribute to his control issues. Mars in Capricorn natives are driven by their ambition and determination to achieve a certain status. These natives, from a shadow perspective, can be very materialistic people and can produce someone who uses their money, power and respect (see what I did there? See the irony?) to assert authority onto those who he would consider ‘weaker’ or less established. This can even create someone who ‘bullies’ people because of the status they have. Capricorn is a calculated sign as well as entrepreneurial, so he has an affinity to throw his money around to assert himself and get what he wants. Mars is also making a square to his Mercury in Scorpio, which can detail more of a defined obsession for power and control (more on this below). Mars also squaring Jupiter can expand his quest for greed and can amount to an abundance of energy that needs a proper outlet or can succumb to his impulses and aggression. His Jupiter in Libra is already making a tightly wound conjunction to Venus that can reflect how his abundance can be defined by the business he makes and those around him, which will need a further explanation considering the surrounding and angling planets involved, but this can all tie into his tactics to control the business that he does and for him to be the one to mostly benefit from it. Lastly, and more importantly, the square Mars is making to Venus can be particularly subject his personal and intimate relationship to aggression, violence and other disruptive impulses (more on this below).

MARS IN CAPRICORN SQUARE SATURN IN TAURUS

On a surface level, the energy of this aspect can make for someone who is a hard and consistent worker and can work on things to exhaustion. From a psychological standpoint this specific square can be more violent, domineering energy within this native. Sean’s assertiveness can be in conflict with authority figures in his (early) life, which can in turn create an inflated & ego-driven sense of authority within himself when achieving the power that he has been accustomed to for so long. This can also point to his tendencies to use violence and force to solve his problems or to keep people ‘in line’. There is a lot of knowing behind the scenes of exactly what Sean is capable of in the industry, so there is a running joke that he can make people do what he wants or else they will ‘disappear’, which other parts of his chart can point to that theory as well (refer to ‘significant patterns, cradle 1’). This is also a great point of Sean’s inclination to rebel at any given opportunity, and a lot of his motive has to do with power and control, which is a running theme in his chart. This square is connected in a T-square (1) with Mercury, which can be an indication of having a tight-knit network of people who have a lot of power and prestige. Sean has a lot of wealthy ‘friends’ that he does business with, and these are people who were regulars at his hosted gatherings, both public and private. This square is a very selfish energy, not willing to go out of his way for people unless there is something in it for him, especially with Saturn having power over Mars (Mars in Capricorn). This can make Sean a very callous, unforgiving person who has more interest in dominating others, and he doesn’t stop to put other people into consideration. He can also be prone to frustrations, so it’s likely he’s not the most easy-going person. Punishments are very likely with this square, as he is inclined to make people work beyond their means to be rewarded as he sees fit, or he may look to restrict those who aren’t as cooperative. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Sean was into a lot of binding (BDSM) and violent kind of kinks (like rape or torture), especially with Pluto making a trine to Mars. Moreover, Capricorn Mars natives can have an insatiable appetite for sex, and in simpler terms can make for someone with prominent anger issues.

MOON-SOUTH NODE CONJUNCTION IN VIRGO

This conjunction between the Moon and South Node is significant because it represents how comfortable he is in his karmic and negative emotional patterns, and how easy it is for him to project that onto other people. Besides ones’ habitual nature and raw emotion, the Moon placement can also be the direct link to one’s mother as well as other feminine/maternal figures in a person’s chart. In the case of the mother, I discovered upon research that Sean’s mother was a model/escort (allegedly being supported by the Virgo Moon, Virgo ruling service, while modeling is ruled by Virgo’s opposite sign, Pisces (North Node)) who exuded the party-girl aesthetic, which can directly point to this Moon to South Node influence by his mother making that kind of lifestyle the ‘norm’ for him growing up, as the South Node represents our past lives or karmic lessons that we come into this lifetime needing to learn/move away from in one sense, it can also come up in a person’s chart as generational patterns that one has inherited into this life, or have been conditioned to upon entrance into this consciousness. There is also an allegation of his mother being predatory, and this is supported with the Virgo Moon representing ‘grooming’ from a feminine figure (the Moon), or the mother. More to this theory, there is a specific video where Sean professed to going to (strip) clubs with his mother and they are also seen kissing each other on the lips, which could be normal for some parent-child relationships (when the child is STILL a child), but another takes puts fuel to allegations that Sean was also preyed upon or groomed in his adolescence. Additionally, Virgo is the sign of service, work, daily routine, health/diet and anything of the like, it also represents ‘training’. As you know, Sean is known for the way he likes to be in control and how critical he is, so this is very on brand for a Virgo Moon native. When we talk about how he treated his signees on a public scale, Sean tended to be a critical, micromanaging force who controlled their image, the way they sounded, and how he wanted them to work for him. In a lot of cases this would entail how they ate as well, especially women since the Moon governs women. He also liked certain things within his order, which he could almost be obsessive about it. This doesn’t only apply to the ones who sign to his label or work with him generally, but also the employees that work for Sean on a routine basis, such as security, fitness trainers (another Virgo trait), cooks, maids etc. What I can deduce with this placement, Sean is particular about things being of a certain order when it comes to his employees and women in his life, and this can come from a specific karmic pattern that he was conditioned to in his past (The Moon can also represent one’s upbringing), namely reflecting a specific insecurity that he grew up dealing with. He may have lived in some kind of instability within himself, to which he found (albeit unhealthy) coping mechanisms for. He likely holds onto negative emotions until they build up within him to explode, which can likely be a person who is known to lose his patience. This is a wide orb so the severity of its effects may be weakened, but it is still prominent in the native so long as he clings to the comfort zone. Lastly, as a controversial opinion, the sign of Virgo is the ‘virgin’, or the maiden. Being that this sign represents something of purity and youth, as well as young women, this could pinpoint a tendency to attraction to ‘younger’ women. The lower frequencies of Virgo can take ‘training’ to a darker connotation, into the scope of ‘grooming’ as previously mentioned.

LILITH IN CANCER

The Lilith placement, in a man’s chart, represents the kind of woman he desires, yet fears. This is the same kind of woman that can truly overpower (or destroy) him. Lilith also represents defiance, sovereignty, darker emotions, the shadow side, and the wounded feminine energy or when we know we’re being manipulated, abused, or disrespected. In Sean’s case, not only does this denote a disconnect with his mother or females in his family in the traditional sense, but his Lilith placed in Cancer also says a lot about how he regards nurturing, soft and naturally empathic women. In his mind, this type of woman is ‘weak’, which can be traced back to the women he was generally able to overpower and manipulate (i.e. Cassie). This placement is another major indicator of the mother being somewhat of a temptress or taking on the ‘dark feminine’ archetype. The energy of Lilith in Cancer completely rejects traditional feminine energy and deems it to be something to dominate within oneself and others. With the afflictions to this placement, there is even more of an indication that he carries this psychology into his relationships and interaction with other women. With this placement I could go as far as saying that Sean has a complete disdain or hatred for women on a subconscious level and can manifest as a desire to have control on women that appear weaker to him. The sextile made to Pluto can tell me of just how explosive and violent he can be toward women in attempt to control/dominate, even deadly consequences are noted here. Lilith forming an opposition to Mars in extreme cases can even add forced violence toward women, even rape considering both Mars and Lilith govern over raw sexuality (Lilith being the feminine depiction of this). There is also a square Lilith is forming to Venus, which is also forming its own square to Mars (more on this Mars-Venus Square/T-square below). Venus’ contribution to Lilith in this instance can represent a more prominent force within his connections, not only referring to his intimate and personal relationships, but his business and industry relationships are subjected to this power-hungry dynamic where he is more strategic of how he gets over and manipulates others into his favor, Venus being good at making things look a particular way. This placement is an instinct within Sean to sense out those who are more capable of being manipulated, whether they are naïve and unassuming or not. Manipulations through things such as contracts, NDAs, PR, etc. as this is reinforced his Venus is placed in Libra (Libra represents written contracts and public image).

CHIRON IN ARIES

Chiron as Sean’s hidden psychological wounding (fears and insecurities) can revolve around his own, or the energy of, masculinity. As previously mentioned with his Lilith in Cancer placement, Sean has a borderline disrespect towards those he considers weaker, or ‘feminine’, so it would only make sense if that were to stem from toxic/wounded masculinity that he may have been conditioned to growing up. This can make for a person who overcompensates for his own assertiveness, pushing the barrier to being overtly violent, abusive, and domineering. This can also point to a specific ‘wound’ surrounding his masculinity that can have everything to do with sexuality with Mars making a sextile to this placement. This aspect can also give support to someone with a ruthless ambition, as Mars’ energy is doubled and can be malefic and disruptive in nature (such as Chiron). Sean could have been exposed to a violent or hyper-masculine world growing up and can be conditioned to the principles of ‘survival mindset’ and war mentality. The history with Sean’s father can put this theory into perspective, if we factor in that he was alleged to be a drug-dealer who died by gun violence (also a Mars/Aries signature). This can lead to his affinity toward solving problems with violence, especially with Pluto making an opposition these can have fatal outcomes. This is a particularly deadly energy that can bring about hostile situations.

NEPTUNE IN SCORPIO

Neptune is a generational planet that can represent a pattern in our chart that can be heavily veiled and hidden from others and even ourselves, and can be referred to as the collective consciousness. It can also refer to our psychic inclinations and our spiritual understandings. The era for Neptune transiting the sign of Scorpio was between the years 1956 to 1970, and this would cite Sean’s birth year to be 1969, making Neptune 27 degrees through the sign. This was the period infamously known for drugs, sex, rock n’ roll, and even mysticism, which were all things that gave way to sexual liberation, experimenting with substances, and the emergence of religious cults. People born in this specific time where Neptune was traveling through Scorpio can have more of a soul recognition to these influences which can serve as a subconscious relevance to the native. Sean Combs is no exception, as I would consider him to be hiding a sexual liberation that may seem unusual or shocking to others. This is also an indication of what other intuitives/astrologers have been picking up about him forever now; that he is well aware of manifestation and alchemy (Moon/Pluto in Virgo supports this as well). Sean is likely aware of and have personal interests in cults and ritualism, so this can give merit to idea that Sean hosts sex parties/rituals. This is an intense, mysterious and possessive nature that is hidden beneath Sean’s surface, and he has likely had an upbringing that has desensitized him to all kinds of destruction, danger, and chaos. This Neptune is ruled by Pluto (and Mars traditionally) and is also making a sextile between the two planets (can be found in Cradle 1 and 2). This can bring opportunities for manifestation and manipulating energy for one’s own desires. With Chiron trine to his Neptune as well, he can be someone to suppress whatever insecurities he may have through escapism tactics, such as substance abuse, giving way to the theory of Sean’s own self-destructive tendencies.

SUN IN SCORPIO CONJOINED TO MERCURY IN SCORPIO, BOTH OPPOSITE SATURN IN TAURUS:

Here is a configuration that plays a part closely with one expression conjoining to one’s mental compatibility. Scorpio can represent cruelty when operating on lower frequencies, which in this case can also take on a controlling & possessive connotation. This can also create a person that can prioritize enforcing their will onto people for the sake of gaining powerful status. Add that with a double opposition that Saturn is making to his Sun-Mercury conjunction, and you have a person who may have a restrictive and dictatorial quality to the way that they manage contractual business with others. There is an energy of a dictator or an authoritarian to other people, even a cult leader (Taurus Saturn), and being able to punish those who go against them (Taurus/Scorpio axis governs loyalty/betrayal). Another take with the Taurus Saturn, this can be someone who expected loyalty from his people in the same capacity as a cult, especially those who worked under him for extended periods of time. Saturn is ‘the punisher’, so that would suggest the claims of aggressive intimidation against certain people, even sexual abuse with Scorpio involved (citing ‘violent’ kinks). On the spectrum of sexual assault, this is a point where I believe that the nature of this configuration would impulse a native to sexually ‘punish’ their victims, which can also include a forceful connotation when the victim refuses to accommodate the native in question. Scorpio placements operating at low octaves can be vampiric to those they encounter, and that opposition to Saturn can indicate selfish tendencies that he may be more willing to use the people around him to benefit him and his status. There is also a presence here of legal situations involving the finances of other people & the contracts that they sign with Sean. A take-over spirit that sucks everyone dry is also what I would describe it as. This configuration also supports someone who is capable of limiting fame and notoriety from his own artists if they felt it necessary, placing that same spotlight onto himself. This configuration ALONE backs up a lot of claims regarding anyone feeling cheated by Diddy financially, having an entire catalog restricted from the artist, and the overall control of said artist through contractual obligations. As mentioned previously, some information in regard to Sean’s late father and the lifestyle he led, which can also be a manifestation of this configuration in his chart.

VENUS-JUPITER CONJUNCTION IN LIBRA

Getting to a contradiction within his chart, this aspect can speak to the kind and benevolent nature that he may have been trying to channel, as noted by his most recent name change to “Diddy ‘Love’ Combs”, especially from a spiritual/religious standpoint involving Jupiter. Sean has been cited lately as changing his image in the way of creating what attempts to be a ‘peace-loving’, family-oriented aura from the native. But this placement does a lot more harm than good even involving the two aforementioned benefic planets. This conjunction expresses his generous nature, especially to the women he was publicly and privately in a relationship with. Not to mention that Jupiter also governs publishing, so Sean being in control of the publishing and producing credits at the label can be seen with this aspect. This is a major indicator of being able to benefit from his own generosity, in the sense that he expects to be compensated for what he has given his artists or his relationships. Libra is about balance, symmetry, and justice and when it comes to this conjunction, Sean’s extravagance came with the expectation to continually do right by him to some degree, as there is a reciprocity that comes with the energy of Libra, this configuration in a person’s chart, on the flip side, can make the native inclined toward greed and can even make one prone to addictions. Mars squaring Venus within this conjunction creates a motivating factor to merge his money and power, to essentially have a certain type of control in the industry. He also uses this control to steam-roll his relationships into being loyal to a fault. He may also indulge the most into his addictions/greed on a social level, which can be a direct link to parties he would throw since the 90’s, the same parties that are now being implicated as possible ‘sex rituals’ or sex trafficking social events (depending on what you believe personally). The Venus to Mars square can very well include the raw, sexual nature of the parties Sean would host or be a part of himself. Sean’s extravagant nature is not something that is unheard of to people who are aware of him generally, but behind industry walls this can actually point to the inflation of his ego. Sean is also someone who likely has very good lawyers and legal professionals working for him with this aspect, and he is not one to shy away from legally binding agreements in his business, i.e. NDAs.

MERCURY IN SCORPIO SQUARE MARS IN CAPRICRON

When you have the planet of communication squaring the planet of will, this can make for a verbally forceful and disregarding native. Sean is not really a stranger to being an aggressive communicator with a sharp tongue, but this is another indication of him operating on a short fuse. This can be due to the overstimulation that’s interpreted with this aspect, and the increase in impulsivity. Sean is likely a very intimidating communicator, and he doesn’t have any impulse control. A lot of his motives are once again linked with the obsession for power and control over others through his powerful connections and status. Sean also has a violent nature that he may be more inclined to keep hidden, but with Mars squaring Venus this would make these themes show up more in his social or romantic relationships (as a Libra Venus is skilled in making public perception of the native appear polished and balanced, with Libra ruling PR). There can even be sexual kinks that are deemed deviant and would likely be shunned upon with this square happening between the signs of Scorpio and Capricorn (‘violent’ kinks are cited here). This can also make Sean a determined individual with an insatiable need to fulfill his desires, and those desires can only be met with unwavering hostility and force. This can pertain to professional, personal, and even sexual desires when it comes to Sean. There is an inclination toward arrogance and power trips toward those he employs, and verbal abuse is the main weapon he uses unto others. This also reinforces him being accustomed to innate control over others and his mode of operation relying heavily on his connections to the industry (Mars in Capricorn).

MARS IN CAPRICORN SQUARE VENUS IN LIBRA

Here we have a native that is likely to be a forceful person within his interpersonal or romantic relationships and can attract those who are easily shaped and molded (Venus in Libra) or the native can project this motive onto those he is involved with. This aspect is associated with anger issues, a lack of self-control, and intense love-hate dynamics within intimate relationships. As this can be a reflex in establishing control, it is likely Sean is as domineering as everyone may portray him to be, especially those who have seen the different side of the coin. It is also likely that Sean can have a PR team behind him that can paint a less egregious picture in regard to his personal life, though behind the scenes it’s worse than what anyone could have imagined. This can also attract abusive dynamics, especially with any other malefic influences touching this, which can be cited by Mars’ opposition to Lilith in Cancer also squaring Venus (see T-square 2). Sean is inclined to dominate those who he is intimately, personally or professionally involved with. I could even go as far as to say that he has a domination kink (if I haven’t mentioned this speculation already) or a punishment kink (involving Saturn ruling the Mars placement). This can also cite difficulties in court proceedings against Sean as his Libra Venus would suggest a functioning legal team and producing iron-clad NDAs and contractual bindings in his business dealings. Also making note that Cassie is a native to this same Venus to Mars square, which the significance of this is likely to show up in the pair’s synastry.

SIGNIFICANT PATTERNS

T-SQUARE 1

Taurus Saturn opposite Scorpio Mercury, Square Capricorn Mars: This is the more general source of his anger and temper towards other people, and it involves previously mentioned aspects. For this T-Square, he has his apex planet (or the focal planet where we see the problem) as Mars, which has been the running theme, if not the dominant energy in the native’s chart. The point of tension with this T-square can point back to his aggression surrounding the way he dominates and manipulates control. Saturn opposite Mercury can suggest frustration from an inability to relate to others personally due to a lack in communication skills, which could have been a theme for him from a young age. Sean could have also been subjected to seeing different ways of being overpowered by authority in his upbringing or early career, which can create initial opposition with authority that he’d aspire to overcome, and a desire to achieve the same ‘untouchable’ status that he had been privy to, even through aggressive and violent means. Sean may have grown up to inspire control over those weaker than him, in comparison to what he may have been subjected to growing up. The ruler of the sign Mars is in (Saturn) being in the sign of Taurus can bring a direct importance and drive to achieve power through his material/financial status. He is a very technical person, and very strict, especially if it comes to criticizing or training people (which has come up before in other sections). As an employer, this can make Sean a very harsh person who may place extreme demands on the people under him, even if they were simply apprentices. Sean has a significant pattern of having a dominating presence over the people in his life, whether they work for him, are friends with him, or within romantic and intimate relationships. This is the perfect configuration for “aggressive manipulation”, which Sean seems to always be tied to. He is also capable of bringing sorts of ‘punishment’ onto those who don’t abide by his expectations. This can also be in lesser extremes, such as being harsh with his training/teaching and aggressive dictation. In recent history, there have been classic shows that essentially depict this and what immediately comes to mind is ‘Making the Band’. Incidents such as the ‘Cheesecake’ incident (and things such as hazing) are great manipulation tactics where Sean can construct the belief of one’s own authority and how he was projecting that onto his signees. This was how he was able to achieve the authoritative status that he did as a mogul/gatekeeper in the industry, reinforced with his Capricorn Mars at the 29th (Leo) degree. This is also a T-square that can pinpoint his ability to network through the industry and being in rooms with different ‘important’ people and allowing himself a roster of artists/fellow associates to catapult himself ahead as a music executive. In a more technical context, this is a T-square that also points to his ‘shady’ business (one off, not only). Mercury being in the sign of Scorpio (and adversely having Pluto in the sign of Virgo) opposite Saturn in the sign of Taurus can signify Diddy’s affinity toward his iron-clad contracts, NDAs, and underhanded payouts (as mentioned in previous sections). Adding that the sign ruled by Saturn is also his Mars placement, Saturn’s energy is prominent within this T-square (Saturn/Capricorn = binding contracts, corporate business). In a sense, with Mercury in Scorpio (Scorpio = joint investments, joint accounts, ‘other people’s money’), Sean was able to manipulate those who he’s signed into going into contractual business with him, and the Mercury-Saturn opposition can translate into bad contract dealings.

T-SQUARE 2

Capricorn Mars opposite Cancer Lilith, Square Libra Venus: This specific T-square can suggest his dynamic that he has towards women. As previously mentioned, Lilith in Cancer in a man’s chart can suggest a distain or blatant lack of respect for the feminine quality and finding women to be a weaker species. Add in the opposite angle happening with Mars and you have someone who likes to overpower the women in his life. The apex planet of this T-square is Venus in Libra, which is squaring his Cancer Lilith and his Capricorn Mars. The focus here is the essential ‘domination’ over his sexual/intimate and even business relationships, and the aggression that he naturally has towards women, and this can go especially for the women he has signed in the past. The ruling planet of the Lilith placement is the Moon, which is placed in the sign of Virgo, which governs routine, work, and health/diet. A lot of Sean’s criticism towards women can have a lot to do with how they look, their diet, and how they take care of themselves. This can absolutely correlate to the women he dates as well as for the women he decides to sign and work with. As previously mentioned, Virgo is the sign of the teacher/trainer, and this can represent why the Lilith in Cancer placement is so obsessive with overpowering women in a way of dictating and critiquing them. The women in his life have to abide by a certain standard, and in a lot of ways can make him prejudice to certain types of women and want to ‘fix’ or ‘change’ them to what he finds appealing. If they don’t fall in line the way he wants to (Venus in Libra), there is a violent streak that can come out in him (Mars opposite Lilith).

CRADLE 1

Pluto Chiron Opposition (Pluto in Virgo, Chiron in Aries), Virgo Pluto sextile Scorpio Neptune, Virgo Pluto trine Capricorn Mars, Aries Chiron sextile Capricorn Mars, Aries Chiron trine Scorpio Neptune, and Capricorn Mars sextile Scorpio Neptune: This can pinpoint to a lot of rage that is inspired by insecurities and deep seeded psychological wounds (Pluto opposite Chiron) that don’t have a healthy exit point. On one hand you have a Chiron in Aries, which can indicate someone who has insecurities surrounding the expression of their masculinity, or may have some tendencies toward toxic masculinity, narcissism, and misogyny. On the other hand, his Pluto in Virgo can point to obsessive compulsive behaviors that can reach extremes about perfecting a specific standard, which may lean more toward internalized powerlessness and insecurity. This opposition can result in him overcompensating for these wounds/insecurities, projecting them onto others, and can manifest in him seeking to dominate others with that Pluto influence. The supporting aspects that create this cradle (Mars, Neptune) speak to the talent/opportunities that are connected to his goal-oriented determination and business-like ambition (Capricorn Mars) and his artistic abilities with musical vibrations (Scorpio Neptune). This cradle can suggest someone who is able to use their power and influence in the music industry to hide from their psychological wounds and using it as a crutch or suit of armor that is meant to keep him from being accountable for the way he may strong-arm other people to get to his desired status. I can also see this being a main source of his believing he was invincible from receiving any certain consequences. This can also be a source of him using his power to engage in sexual encounters of his dominating desires, and having a forceful and aggressive undertone that can easily become threatening. Another interesting thing about the Mars sextile Neptune included in this cradle, which may indicate that he would have desires to film/take pictures of these encounters, which has been alleged of him being in possession of photographic evidence of some encounters from his own partners or of different women in different states. Leverage that to him, can be interpreted as a way for him to brag or assert domination with these women by sending these intimate pictures/videos out to his mutuals (rapper 50 Cent was cited as receiving such intimate photos of Cassie from Sean back in 2010). It’s likely that Sean may be someone who wants to be able to act out and film his sexual fantasies (Scorpio Neptune) and most of them may be where he’s dominating his partner, possibly in violent ways with Mars in a trine to Pluto. A lot of his reputation, both known and unknown, are tied up with this specific astrological pattern, but the Pluto Chiron opposition alone can be the indicator of a rapist/rape victim, which the trine/sextiles to Mars and Neptune can support this. It is also alleged that he had enough power to make people ‘disappear’ and this cradle supports the manifestation of that, especially with Mars’ trine to Pluto and its sextile to Neptune. This specific configuration supports any kind of claims or allegations linked to his violent nature being supported or even helped through the power or status that he has maintained in the industry, and him using violence to stay feared (because to Sean, Fear=Power; Mars trine Pluto).

CRADLE 2

Mars Lilith Opposition (Capricorn Mars, Cancer Lilith), Capricorn Mars sextile Scorpio Neptune, Capricorn Mars trine Virgo Pluto, Cancer Lilith sextile Virgo Pluto, Cancer Lilith trine Scorpio Neptune, and Scorpio Neptune sextile Virgo Pluto: This cradle has the same Mars Pluto trine, which encompasses that ability to acquire power and protection within the industry (involving Neptune) previously mentioned, but the focus of the tension is shifted to the complete rejection of feminine energy. Mars in Capricorn opposite Lilith in Cancer can create a self-preserving, venomous individual whose passions/ambitions are being channeled into episodes of rebellion, domination and control. This is a person who is vengeful, sneaky and domineering when it comes to his sexual and intimate relationships and can find himself projecting that back on to the women he engages with. Lilith in Cancer can directly relate to a desire to dominate women (if afflicted) especially to empower oneself, but with it opposite to Mars in Capricorn this can stem from some kind of hatred or coldness toward women that can also come off as complete disrespect. The Lilith trine Neptune in Scorpio can note an inclination to sex rituals, or spiritual (occult) explorations through sexual means in a way to manifest and manipulate energy, and a lot of women in his past have been participants and may even been scouted out for such (Mars sextile Neptune). This is also supportive of engaging in sex trafficking and being able to fly under the radar (Neptune trine Chiron, Lilith, sextile Mars). A lot of Sean’s sexual lifestyle and nature were always something people illuded to being of a dark nature, or at the very least, unconventional. It is possible Sean can have a sexual kink of dominating women in violent ways (as mentioned as being a running theme), with Mars and Pluto in a trine. Lilith being in Cancer can indicate his overall shadow side, or hidden nature, being projected onto women. This can especially be dangerous with Lilith opposite a violent planet, such as Mars, and in a sign like Capricorn he could also be a person who is punishing, domineering or restrictive of them. This could be a man who is not only sexually violent toward women, but also physically aggressive and violent with them as well. I can even say he doesn’t like women as far as respecting them as people. There were a lot of people that were around that were aware of Sean’s behavior with women in private, and so many of them turned a blind eye to their well-being, and even their safety. His Capricorn Mars indicates someone who prioritizes the power that comes with what he’s achieved, and being able to do what he wants because of it. So, with this Mars Lilith opposition, it is likely that he is the type of person to use his power and influence to attract the women that can act out his sexual desires (Scorpio Neptune) and there is an overwhelming tone of domination that can edge on the border of violence. A final note worth addressing was Sean’s Mars sextile Neptune. With Neptune governing photography, videography and even porn, he may have an interest in the documentation of his encounters with a camera, as well as using this as leverage against these women to have continued control over them (Neptune sextile Pluto), which can be further cited by the allegation of being sent Cassie’s ‘intimate photos’ in the past.

CONCLUSION

The further I go (down the rabbit hole), the more I can find evidence that Sean ‘P Diddy’ Combs is capable of most of everything that he has been accused of thus far, and he is still being hit with lawsuits of a violent sexual nature as I’ve been conducting my case on this. I have to say that I learned a lot more about this figure than what I honestly had an interest to, so much so that I’m deciding to take a break from this topic that I’ve now split into two parts (Diddy X Cassie synastry report will serve as the revisited/part 2). But a lot of what has been coming out against Sean can be explained by quite a few configurations in his chart and can be evenly deduced that he may be capable of more than a fraction of it. There were two main points that I wanted to highlight and bring home each time in regard to Sean’s psychological make-up; his controlling/domineering nature, and his sexual deviancy, and what exactly motivates the two and where it stems from. A lot of Mars (Scorpio) and Capricorn influences can be part of the contributing factors to the emphasis on power and control. His Lilith in Cancer opposing Mars in Capricorn is a major indicator of his sexual violence towards women, among other things, and it is the Aries Chiron that can give insight into his psychological wounds around masculinity. Another point one can make with his chart alignments is that he is a product of his environment, especially when you consider the facts of his life. His parents were both living alternative lifestyles, and Sean being a witness/participant in these lifestyles only fueled his familiarity to it. Speculatively, his mother being an escort opened the door for different sexual fetishes that he has till this day (Moon-South Node conj., Lilith in Cancer opposition to Mars in Capricorn) as it was alleged that this was how he was introduced to the concept of ‘orgies’. Recent findings can speculate that him and his mother engage in deviant behavior together, as a video cites Sean exclaiming his mother ‘likes to have a good time’ and how she can ‘touch the floor with her palms…flat’, which in itself is some ‘disturbing’ inuendo. This can very well play a role in his disrespect towards women as a species, as well as viewing them as sexual objects rather than people. It was also alleged by rapper Mase that Sean’s mother gatekeeps all of Sean’s ‘dirty’ business and is the main proprietor of his estate (Virgo Moon trine Saturn (Taurus) and sextile Sun-Mercury conj. in Scorpio). On the other side of the coin, Sean’s father is an alleged gang member/drug dealer that would have Sean present on certain ‘violent’ occasions, which can contribute to Sean’s belief in fear and barbarity being the most effective means to gain power and control, and this can be expressed with his Sun-Mercury conj. opposite Saturn (and instilled with afflicted Chiron in Aries). Allegedly Sean was even present when his father was gunned down in what is being described as either ‘gang activity’ or ‘a drug deal gone bad’ (Saturn in Taurus square Mars in Capricorn). These configurations can also speak to being mentored by men in the industry, who have a lot of power and prestige themselves. These where the examples that were set for him at a young age, and the way he turned out can be seen as the materialization of these influences.

When I revisit this topic, it will be from the angle of the ‘enslavement’, ‘sexual abuse’ and ‘trafficking’ that was the 10 year relationship between Sean Combs and Cassandra Ventura.

THANKS FOR READING

51 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day Eight - Voice Kink // Din Djarin

Kinktober Masterlist / @the-purity-pen

Warnings: female reader, voice kink, f masterbation, fingering, kissing

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: oh and this is only part one... there is a day that works so perfectly well for part 2

Din wasn’t much of a talker.

You had once asked him if he had a maximum number of words he could say every day and that was why he answered any question you asked with as few words as possible. He answered that particular question with a silent stare that lasted five whole minutes before walking off.

To be fair to him, that had been months ago and not long after you had first met but while he did talk more now you still wouldn’t call him Mr Chatty. It was only really in the dead of night when you were alone in your room that Din began to unravel and let you hear more of that deep and gravelly voice. Whether he was telling you how good you felt squeezing his cock or he was reading off a list of what he needed to get at the market tomorrow, it made your thighs clench together and a heat would build in the pit of your stomach.

“My voice?” He had asked when you told him, your eyes not looking into his as you lay your head on his chest. “Look at me a second.”

When you looked up at him you were staring straight back into his visor but you could feel the smile he was wearing beneath it.

“What exactly is it you like about my voice?”

You shrugged and went to look away again but he held you in place, switching your bodies so you were lying with your head on the pillow and his body hovered over yours. While you were wearing only one of his shirts and a pair of panties, Din was in a full sleeve shirt and trousers, his hands were sans their gloves and his tattoos were peeking out the end of his sleeves but his helmet was still firmly on his head.

He spoke your name slowly, his helmet inches from your face so you had to look into his eyes beneath the visor.

“It just… I like when you talk. Especially in bed. It just makes me feel… good?”

You honestly weren’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just the fact that you couldn’t see his face but if you could hear his voice you knew he was right there with you, guiding you through every second of pleasure he pulled from your body.

“Do you want to feel… good, now?”

It wasn’t a question that really needed to be asked as his body covered every inch of yours, not when your chest was heaving and your thighs were squeezing Din’s hips to hold him in place, but you answered it anyway.

“Please.”

You hadn’t expected him to move off of you when you answered, his weight shifting back to his heels as he reached up and dragged your panties down your legs. You watched as he tucked them in his back pocket - for what you weren’t sure - but then his hands skimmed up your legs and opened them wider for him… and then stopped.

“Touch yourself.”

You choked on your words. “What-”

“Touch yourself. You like my voice that much? Then you’re going to listen to me telling you to touch yourself.”

There are a lot of things that Din had said before that sent shivers up your spine and made goosebumps spread down your arms, ever since you got over that initial hurdle of him opening up he had never been shy about how attractive he found you, but he had never came out and said something so blunt before.

And as soon as you got over the initial shock you realized that you really, really, liked it.

By the time your hand had dipped between your thighs, after first giving Din a show of teasing and twisting your nipples over your shirt and slipping your fingers past your lips to get them wet, you were dripping onto the sheets below you and even with the visor in the way you knew that Din had carefully tracked your every move.

Your hands started slow circles on your clit, a shudder rolling through your body when you finally placed pressure against where you had needed it most.

“Faster,” Din growled, his voice sounding more hoarse already.

You did as he said, your fingers speeding up as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and stared into his visor.

“Uh-uh,” he tutted, reaching forward to take your chin in his thumb and forefinger until you opened your mouth. “You want to hear me? Well, I want to hear from you too.”

He told you how pretty you were for him, how he loved watching you clench around nothing, how he liked listening to all those pretty sounds you gave him, and just when you were on the edge he told you to stop.

“Din-”

“Stop,” he growled.

You took your hand away and rested it on your thigh, staring into his visor until your breathing calmed once more.

“Touch yourself again.”

He did this two more times, his voice sounding more hoarse yet more confident with each time until he shuffled closer between your legs and you saw the red and leaking head of his cock peek out the waistband of his trousers. His hand palmed his hard length over the material, his shoulders rigid and chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

“Fuck yourself.”

Your fingers slipped down your folds, your stomach muscles clenching as you curled them deep inside you. Your palm brushed against your clit and you were satisfying some of the tension that had been building at the need to be filled but it was nowhere near as good as when Din does it, the thought making your eyes fall to where his hands are clenched into fists on his thighs.

“What is it?” Din asked, his voice mockingly sweet as he leaned forward and took your chin back between his fingers. “Hm?”

“It’s not- It’s not like when you-”

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling your hand away before replacing your fingers with his own. Even just one of his fingers feels like two of yours so when he thrust two in quickly, curling them at the same time, a high-pitched whine left your mouth as your back arched off of the mattress.

“Is that what you needed? Need my voice and need my fingers buried in you? What about my cock?” You moaned his name loudly at his words, a chant of yes, Din, yes leaving your mouth as he chuckled in return. “There’s no one else who can make you feel like this, is there? Because you’re mine, aren’t you?”

He’s asking questions you both know that you don’t need to answer. You, and everyone else in the village - in the galaxy, knows that you’re Din’s and he’s yours. The added benefit of all of this is that you just get to hear that cocky voice more.

“What is it you like about my voice? Is it hearing me tell you how beautiful you are? How pretty you look when you suck my cock?” His fingers continue to pulse in and out of you as he speaks and he cups his hand so his palm rubs perfectly against your clit. “How hard it is not to come when you’re on your hands and knees in front of me?” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “How much I want to fill that pretty pussy until I can’t anymore-”

You cut him off with a low groan, your back arching off the bed and your nails digging into his forearm as you come around his fingers and your body shudders beneath his.

“There you are, there you go,” he coos. “I wish you could see how pretty you are when you come. Keep going, that’s it.” His other palm strokes up your stomach, holding you down against the mattress as he wrings the last of your orgasm from you. “You’re doing so well, just a little longer. Good girl.” The final two words come out in a growl that causes a high pitched whine to leave your mouth, his fingers finally slipping out and the room plunging into darkness as his helmet comes off with a hiss.

Before you can speak his mouth slants against yours, swallowing your gasp as he pushes his tongue past your lips. Your hands fly up to his face, holding his flushed cheeks and dragging back to the nape of his neck where you tug on his curls and smile into his mouth when he groans.

In an instant his weight is off of you, the lights flashing back on just as he sits back on his heels and slips his helmet back over his head. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he starts to undo his belt, his visor flicking up to your gaze as he pulls out his aching cock and fists the length.

“My turn.”

#tppkinktober2022 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin #mando #mando x reader #mando x you

532 notes · View notes

thefrontofmymind · 2 years

Text

That's Where You Loved Me (Joseph Quinn x gn!Reader)

a/n: think i'll probably make a part two to this so lmk if that's something you're interested it! any feedback is appreciated! mwah! xx

SYNOPSIS: Reader goes to pick up the last of their things from their old place after breaking up with Joe

WARNINGS: just a little bit of angst but even then it's light

Even though it had been a couple weeks, you were still so nervous to see Joe again. You felt pressure to seem okay with everything, even when you were running on less than three hours of sleep and a Redbull you chugged on your way to see him.

‘This was it,’ you thought. ‘The last time I’ll ever have to see his face.’ It saddened you, deeply, knowing the man you loved had already began to move on from your time together, packing the last of your things into a bag and sending you a text–in the most casual fashion–asking you to come by your old place you’d once shared to pick it up. It just made everything so final, there would be no more need to even think of him, no wondering if you did leave that particular pair of socks at the flat or if they were just in one of the boxes you’d hastily put into storage when you started crashing on a friend’s couch while you looked for your own, new place, no thoughts of what he was doing now that his Thursday nights were free with no more ‘pasta Thursday’ –in which you made a new kind of pasta and sauce combination once a week when you found out about his love of Italian cuisine.

It wasn’t until he opened the front door and you were face-to-face that it dawned on you, you weren’t just saying goodbye to the man that was quite possibly the love of your life, but the home you two had created together–a place you were meant to share for the rest of your life, and then some.

“Hi…” was all he said, standing in the doorway. You noticed there were some bags under his eyes. Though he’s been travelling, probably just jetlagged. And he still had his shoes on, he was either going somewhere or he’d just gotten in.

You weren’t sure why, but that notion truly caused an ache in your heart. You were just a second thought, he wasn’t even phased by the fact that he was seemingly now alone, you were just another errand on his to-do list, a mark on his calendar. In fact you wouldn’t have been shocked if that assistant of his had to remind him that you were coming round and that he should probably be the one to hand of the last of your toiletries and knick knacks that you’d forgotten when you were piling all your belongings into boxes after that big, last fight.

You didn’t know what to say, you just pulled your face into a smile as best you could, though you were sure you were giving your entire thought process away in an instant.

“I-uh…” Joe started, scratching the side of his neck, a habit you’d noticed he had when he was feeling uncomfortable. “Do you…want to come in?”

You hummed in agreement while he stepped to the side to let you into the front hallway. You didn’t remember the walls looking so sparse, so clean without the proof of your existence there. And you could smell a candle–something earthy like sandalwood or patchouli. It was a stark contrast from the scents you were used to in the space–homey scents like vanilla and fresh linen. Everything looked far too tidy, new books perfectly placed in height order on the shelf that used to house your vinyl records, a vase of fresh flowers stood tall on the side table where you used to throw your keys after getting home from a long day, and you could see there was no longer the scattered photos the used to decorate the fridge, showcasing memories of holidays and parties–when you and Joe were you and Joe.

“‘ts just this,” he said, picking up a plain, white tote bag hanging on the chair by the door. “Stuff I thought you’d miss if I threw it away…”

You quietly thanked him before you felt the urge to comment on your findings–it was picking at the back of your mind and you just had to pull and let it unravel, if only for the closure. “Seems a lot cleaner without me here…Finally making an effort, hey?”

You immediately cringed at yourself, it was a jab you didn’t mean to take, it just sort of slipped out. But Joe huffed, letting a small grin pull the corners of his lips, it put you at ease–the familiarity of his smile, a sight you sorely missed in the past few weeks without him.

“I’m-uh-I’m…” he stuttered. “I’m actually moving out, so they cleaned it to do all these showings…So not me! Just thought it was time for a change.”

With Joe’s last sentence, the air around the pair of you shifted. Any anger or resentment you felt melted away when you finally saw Joe–a man who was hurting, just like you were, but was stuck living with the memories of a relationship that had crashed and burned. You didn’t pity Joseph, but there was sympathy there for him.

You were unsure on how to continue, everything you could think to do seemed out of place or too cliche. “I’m gonna head off now..” you eventually settled on.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joe started leading you to the front door, before stopping to look you in the eyes directly, without an ounce of insincerity. “It was good to see you. ‘m missed you, love.”

Pang to your heart. “Was good to see you too. Hope you’re not stuck here too long now…” And with that, you stepped out as Joe closed the door behind you. You didn’t dare linger, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at the painted wooden panel that separated you two yet again.

So you began walking ‘home’, with the bag of the last of your things from the place you loved a man who was hurting just as much as you.

#joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn drabble #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn angst

773 notes · View notes

unnamed-blob · 2 months

Text

Have a break (have a KitKat)

⇢ Pairing: Ghostface/Meg Thomas

⇢ Length: Oneshot

⇢ Synopsis: With the previous trial going horrendously wrong, and her body pulsing in pain, Meg just really wants a break.

⇢ A/N: This was actually written before "Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" but comes later in the timeline, hence why it's being posted after. Behold! The first fluff I wrote in years bc I got terribly sick and needy.

Meg stumbled back from the malfunctioning generator, tripping over her own feet and slamming into the ground, hard. She groaned, running a hand down her face, flinching as another stab of pain flared in her head.

The previous trial had been against the mad doctor and Meg had been off her game, shocked too many times in quick succession and the first one taken out. She’d barely been able to breathe a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of the survivor’s camp before the Entity had dragged her into another trial, Meg’s protests and struggles meaningless. Her muscles ached, spasming with phantom pain alongside her exhausted legs, her head pulsing at each slight jostle.

She’d tried to focus on finishing the generators instead, leaving the looping to some other survivor but her hands were uncoordinated and well… that had obviously backfired. A high pitched whistle sounded behind her and the redhead craned her head back to catch sight of Feng approaching, giving her a sympathetic look.

“I’ll head to another generator,” she jutted her thumb over her shoulder, starting to step back. No doubt the explosion would garner the attention of the killer, sooner or later. The dark haired female paused midturn, twisting her head back to Meg to call, “And the killer’s Ghostface! Saw him going after Ace before!”

Meg blinked, numbly watching Feng glance around before she darted out of view, left with only the chuffing generator. She hesitantly pulled herself to her feet, stilling as her vision swam and she closed her eyes, fighting to not topple over. When the vertigo passed, she blinked her eyes open, casting a final glance to the abandoned generator as she shuffled past it, slumping against a boulder. She slid down, pulling her legs to her chest as she buried her head between her knees, drawing out a breath as she closed her eyes.

For once she was actually quite glad it was the strange stealth killer. She couldn't dredge up the energy to run around right now, nor to deal with the stabbing pain of her death alongside her headaches. Ghostface was many things, but he wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't chase her if she didn't run first. Meg shuffled into a more comfortable position, closing her eyes as she idly listened to the screams and yells of her fellow survivors echo across the map.

⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡

Mere minutes after Ace’s final yell rang out, Meg picked up on the quiet shuffling of grass blades rustling, the surrounding stillness interrupted by a visitor. She cracked her eyes open, watching through half lidded eyes as a gloved hand clasped the edge of the boulder, a familiar mask peeking out at her. The survivor blinked languidly, eying Ghostface as he crept out to her side of the boulder, threateningly slow and poised, taut to leap at her.

Meg only shifted slightly, lifting her head to rest it atop her knee, blinking at him once. The killer paused next to her, crowding her space from above, a direct, silent signal he’d be atop her before she could even scramble upwards. When Meg still made no motion, he crouched next to her, tilting his head to look at her.

“Are you playing hide and seek this time, doll?” He teased, a hand drifting to one of her pigtails already, caressing the woven hair, idly shifting the band to threaten to unravel it. Meg gave a low, noncommitted hum, eyes drifting to stare blankly at a patch of grass nearby.

Ghostface was still for a moment before she could hear the near silent rustling of his fabric, a presence sliding down next to her, a black, threatening figure present at the edge of her vision. His hand crept across the back of her exposed neck, twirling at the baby hairs there before he grabbed at her opposite shoulder, pulling Meg against him.

For once the survivor didn’t fight him, tilting instead to rest her head on his shoulder. Ghostface stiffened, impossibly tense at the action as Meg continued to dully stare forwards, feeling her muscles spasm slightly as phantom shocks lingered on her skin.

“I’m tired.”

She blinked. That- that was certainly not Ghostface’s voice- She winced in embarrassment, pulling her knees further closer to herself. A slip of her own tongue, her exhaustion bleeding into her voice, scrambling her brain.

The killer remained still, tense next to her, before his familiar hands prodded at her curled figure, easily slipping under her. She didn’t fight him as he maneuvered her to his lap, pulling her against his chest. The arm behind her back lifted to cradle her face, the opposing tracing circles on the underside of her knee as his mask was tilted upwards, soft lips pressing to her forehead.

Meg shifted comfortably against his chest, closing her eyes as she curled into herself. Here she didn’t have to worry about being dragged into another trial when she had her guard down, didn’t have to worry about keeping an eye out for a killer, or traps on the ground, or shocks prickling at her skin; knives in her back, a hook in her shoulder.

Ghostface’s thumb brushed against her cheek, the survivor dimly only now noting that his glove had been removed at some point. He curled further around her, a cocoon of black mass, of twirling ribbons and an iron stench, of blood stained hands that cradled her like she something precious that’d break with too tight of a grip.

“Just rest,” he whispered above her, and Meg let go, breaths evening out as she slumped completely against him, boneless.

#slash hurt me emotionally with angst GhostMeg so y'all are getting this fluff #ghostmeg #dbd #male yandere #yandere ghostface #slasher x final girl #dead by daylight #dbd writing #dbd fanfic #ghostface #dbd ghostface #meg thomas #slashers #slashers writing #slashers fanfic #killer x survivor #yandere scenarios #comfort/mild hurt

29 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 2 years

Text

i'm not above begging. (1/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down.

warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing

word count: 2k

a/n: this was initially going to be one post but then I got carried away and suddenly was at 2,081 words (oops) so i'm thinking this is going to be at least 3 parts? i've been day dreaming about eddie munson since may & re-watching one tree hill and this idea popped in my head and i had to write it down. this is my first time writing in awhile, so i'm a little rusty. all feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The tutoring center at Hawkins High was relatively quiet for a Thursday afternoon. After the winter finals wrapped up, things had slowed down quite a bit apart from the regulars that came in for their weekly sessions. But with spring break and final projects coming up in a few weeks, it was only a matter of time before students began flocking in desperately seeking help to reach a passing grade. That’s where I came in.

I had been working in the tutoring center since my sophomore year. Everyone always told me I was good at it because I was a very patient person, but I honestly really enjoyed it. Every time I could see a student starting to really get it, I could see that little light bulb go off in their brain, it made my chest swell with pride.

I was organizing a few review tests when I felt something touch my shoulder. All the neatly stacked papers in my hands went flying, and a shrill scream ripped through my chest at the surprise intrusion. I clutched onto the open file cabinet that was beside me and whipped my head around, my wide eyes settling on the tall figure that stood in front of me.

Eddie Munson.

His large, ring-clad hands were immediately held up in surrender, a look of shock etched onto his own features. I was pretty sure his startled expression matched my own.

“Whoa..easy there. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I uh..come in peace.”

There was a timid smile stretched at the corner of his mouth, his dark brows lightly furrowed as he studied my face. A solid minute passed before I realized I hadn’t moved. I was still in shock, and well, possibly having a heart attack. It wasn’t that I was scared of Eddie Munson, not like a lot of the student body at Hawkins High, I was just shocked to see him in the tutoring center. In the two and a half years that I’d worked here, I had never seen him. Not even once.

I’d heard the rumors about his supposed “devil worshiping” club, and about how he was a “dangerous” known drug dealer. I never really bought into it though. Eddie and I had never really interacted before. We were in completely different classes, and social circles. He didn’t really hangout with anyone that wasn’t in his Hellfire club. But I had seen him a few times in passing, and saw the way he was when he interacted with his friends during lunch. Nothing about him screamed dangerous to me. I always thought he was just..different, and definitely had a flair for dramatics.

“Oh, no no, I’m sorry. You didn’t. I mean you did. But..only because I didn’t hear you come in.”

Once I could no longer hear my heart pounding in my ears, I tried my best to appear as casual as possible. Clearing my throat, I crossed my arms over my chest and peered up at him.

“Um what..can I help you with?”

Eddie shoved his large hands into his front pockets, cursing under his breath. He flashed me an apologetic smile and began to fish around in his back pocket before he retrieved a crumpled paper ball, raising it up into his fist victoriously with a grin.

“Aha! Found it.”

He unraveled the paper and did his best to smooth it out, flipping it upside down and clearing his throat dramatically.

“I am looking for…Y/L/N, Y/N.”

His head swiveled to survey the empty tutoring center before his large brown eyes met mine again with a kind smile.

“Any chance you know where I can find them? It’s uh..kind of important.”

“Oh um well..that’s me. Hi.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand raised up to do an awkward wave. My cheeks instantly heat up with embarrassment. Hi? Seriously? That’s what you went with?

Eddie’s eyes wandered over my figure quickly, his eyes meeting mine once again with a quirk of his brow.

“Oh..well, that was easy.”

I stood there silently for a moment, lightly clenching my fists at my sides. This was the closest I had ever been to Eddie Munson before. I had never gotten to look at him properly, not up close like this. Why did I never notice how attractive he was? I didn’t feel scared in his presence. I just felt..nervous. But I wasn’t exactly sure why that was.

“Um so..why are you here? I meant..um, why are you looking for me?”

My voice came out higher than usual, and I instantly wanted to bang my head against the nearest heavy object. Eddie eyed me silently for a moment, sighing as he shoved the paper back into his pocket and pursed his lips. He twisted one of the large rings he wore around his index finger, his eyes darting around the tutor center before finally landing back on me.

“Okay, here’s the thing. You’re my last resort.”

“Oh.”

“No no no, fuck. I didn’t-I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that..you’re my last option or anything, you’re just my last choice. Hope! I meant hope. Fuck. This is all coming out wrong.”

Eddie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff of exasperation. He quickly spun around on his heel and made a beeline for the door to the tutoring center and exited swiftly. I stood dumbfounded in place, staring at the spot he once occupied, trying to decipher what the hell had just happened. Suddenly the door to the tutoring center swung open and Eddie walked through with a playful grin on his lips, stopping directly in front of me.

“Let’s start over, shall we? You’re Y/N Y/L/N, tutor extraordinaire. I’m Eddie Munson, and I desperately need your services.”

Placing one of his large hands on his stomach, he did a quick bow, and I couldn’t help but let a quiet giggle escape my lips. This seemed to catch his attention, as he looked up at me with a full blown grin, seemingly proud of himself for getting a laugh out of me.

“Wow, Eddie. I didn’t expect you to be so..formal?”

Eddie stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. An action that my brain has permanently burned into my memory.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you sweetheart. I need to graduate. I can’t stay in this shithole for another year. And as long as I can pull a D with Mrs. O’Donnell, I’m on track to finally get the fuck out of here. But, here’s the problem. I fucking hate her class. It’s so boring! I mean..I would literally rather watch paint dry. So technically, it’s not my fault I keep failing because if the class were, ya’know, a little more exciting, I might actually be able to pay attention. See, I'm a victim here, okay? A victim of this oppressive and soul crushing system that is Hawkins High. Now look, I have tried everyone. And I mean everyone, okay? Mrs. O’Donnell has assigned me every tutor known to humankind and they either flat out say no or just give up so I’m really banking on you here. And look, I’ll even pay you! I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear. Scouts Honor. Just please..please help me. I’m not above begging here. I will literally get on my knees right now and-”

“Eddie!”

My hands darted out to grab onto his biceps as he began to lower his body. The worn leather of his jacket felt soft under my fingertips. My eyes lingered over the various pins and additions he had added to it. The denim overtop was worn and faded, there were light tears and a few loose ends. I was quite impressed by it though, knowing that he had taken the time to put it together himself. I could tell how much work he had put into it, how much it meant to him.

“I’ll do it.”

“What? Really? Holy shit, you..you are a literal angel!”

I felt myself suddenly being lifted off the ground as a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist. It took a second to register that Eddie Munson was hugging me. Not one of those awkward, half-hearted hugs you feel like you have to give. But a real hug. The kind of hug you give an old friend you haven’t seen in years. My hands gripped onto the shoulders of his jacket and I giggled at his excitement.

“Eddie, put me down! Please, I’m afraid of heights.”

He swiftly set me on my feet with a chuckle, taking a step back and beginning to wave his hands around dramatically.

“Sorry, sorry. I got carried away. Look uh, name your price. Whatever you want, I’ll pay it.”

“Eddie, you’re not paying me. It’s my job, I’m happy to help. I do have a few ground rules though.”

“Alright, sure. Lay ‘em on me.”

“First things first, you have to take this seriously. If we’re going to do this, I need you totally focused. No distractions during our sessions. I know you have your club, and I’ll be respectful of your time dedicated to that, but if you start falling behind and we need extra sessions, I need you to put your school work first. Second, please always be transparent with me. If you need a break, tell me. I don’t want to push you past your limit. If you’re going to be late, or there’s an emergency and you can’t make it, please let me know as soon as you can. And lastly, please don’t ask me to do your work. I’m here to help you, not do everything for you. Don’t even try to bribe me. The answer will be no. Deal?”

You’d be surprised how much I had to emphasize that last part. Over the years, so many people have tried to get me to just do the work for them. They didn’t see me as a resource. They saw me as a transaction. Surely the girl with straight A’s wouldn’t mind doing the work they can't be bothered with. The popular crowd was the worst about it. They thought their parent’s money and social status could buy them anything. Sometimes it made me angry whenever their words would replay in my head. But that anger usually subsided into hurt. Most of them couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name. I was just “tutor girl” to them.

But you’re so smart, it’ll be easy for you! I’ll make it worth your while. If you do my homework, I’ll invite you to the party this weekend. You can sit with us at lunch if you write this paper for me. I’ll put in a good word for you with one of the guys on the team. C’mon tutor girl, everyone has a price.

I wasn’t necessarily “popular”, but I definitely knew a lot of the popular kids. I was practically the reason some of them were able to still do extracurriculars. I spent most of the time in the tutoring center, and when I wasn’t doing that I was helping out with ‘The Weekly Streak’ school newspaper with Nancy Wheeler. Nancy and I had met towards the end of my sophomore year. I had interviewed for a spot on the paper after my guidance counselor had told me tutoring wouldn’t count as a “club activity” on my college applications. After my prolonged sulking, I decided the school paper was the lesser of all high school club evils. Nancy and I had instantly clicked, and had only gotten closer over the years. She and Robin were the only real friends that I had.

I held my hand out and looked up at Eddie with a shy smile on my lips, awaiting his answer. He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyeing me as if he was contemplating my conditions. Always a dramatic. Suddenly, a huge grin took over his mouth and his large hand captured mine. The warmth from his skin spread like wildfire all over my body and eventually settled in the pit of my stomach. My grip tightened slightly on his hand in reaction to the sensation. What the hell was that?

“Deal.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

526 notes · View notes

mengy007 · 9 months

Text

PTSD and Thunderstorms (Eclipse Angst + Fluff)

Today Eclipse was in his lab, working on the Solar-Flare AI he was making for his father. His work came to an abrupt halt as he heard a crashing noise outside the lab. He went to the nearest window and looked outside.

A storm was rolling in, and as a flash of Lightning struck down close to the lab, Eclipse flinched. He hated thunderstorms mainly because of the lightning. It reminded him of when he was stuck in Bloodmoon’s head, and they’d shock him whenever he “misbehaved” or just for sheer fun, it reminded him of when he was…useless…completely at the mercy of another being, And he hated it.

No one knew Eclipse was afraid of Thunderstorms because Eclipse saw it as a stupid thing so he didn’t bother telling anyone, but this was a very, very big thunderstorm.

Another crack of lightning and thunder shook the area and Eclipse let out a small whimper as rain started pouring down. His rays retracted a bit, signaling he was scared and he ran to the bed in his room. He shoved himself under it and though it was tight he felt somewhat safer. Another loud thunder crash and a flash of lightning boomed through the lab as Eclipse curled up under the bed like a terrified puppy. “Don’t cry, don’t cry…” he mumbled, covering the sides of his head as tears pricked his eyes, another loud thunder crash Echoed through the lab again and Eclipse couldn’t help but sniffle a bit, he was scared…

Meanwhile KillCode had entered Eclipse’s section of the lab, looking around. “Eclipse? Where are you” he called out, ignoring the storm outside, he looked in the lab, Eclipse wasn’t there. That was odd, his eldest was always in his lab, KillCode went to go look in Eclipse’s room instead, he gave a small knock on the door.

Eclipse didn’t hear, he was too busy covering his sound receptors to block out the thunder, KillCode heard soft sniffles and cries on the other side of the door. “Eclipse? I’m coming in.” KillCode spoke softly.

KillCode opened the door and looked around, the rain blocking out the sound of his footsteps, the sniffling was coming from under the bed

KillCode peeked under to find a terrified curled up Eclipse, Eclipse looked up at Killcode alarmed not thinking anyone would find him like this. “My child…” KillCode mumbled, “what are you doing under your bed..?”

Eclipse was silent, unable to answer his father, he just glanced away as a tear rolled down his face. “…Is it because of the thunderstorm outside?” KillCode asked, his voice soothing and calm, Eclipse hesitated then whimpered and nodded. Another loud crash shook the lab and Eclipse flinched, curling up tighter.

“Oh my dear boy…don’t be scared, I’m here now” He said, putting a hand under Eclipse’s bed. Eclipse slowly extended his own hand out to hold it, but quickly retracted it back to cover his sound receptors as the lightning and thunder struck again, Eclipse choked out a sob as he curled up tight as possible.

KillCode hummed a bit, then sat on his knees and patted the floor a bit with his hands, “You can come out, it’s okay. Papa’s here now” he cooed, Eclipse unraveled a bit and inched himself out, then he sat up. KillCode opened his arms, offering a hug to Eclipse, and Eclipse accepted the hug, nuzzling into his father’s warm embrace. He flinched sharply as another loud crash echoed through the lab, and covered the sides of his head, KillCode put his own hands over Eclipse’s, helping to block out the sound. KillCode then got an idea and reached into his stomach-hatch and pulled out a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, he then gently removed Eclipse’s hands from his sound receptors and slipped the headphones over his head, now Eclipse couldn’t hear the storm anymore.

Eclipse finally relaxed in his father’s hold and leaned against Killcode’s warm body. KillCode smiled and rubbed Eclipse’s back in soothing circles, quietly shushing him and rocking him gently. Eclipse eventually closed his eyes and fell sound asleep, feeling safe for once…

#i love this thing #sun and moon show #crying rn #fnaf #art #five nights at freddy's #eclipse #sams #sundrop #writing #wholesome dad KC #thunder

29 notes · View notes

pocket-ozwynn · 2 years

Text

Genesis Day: Chapter 4

[Kaiju!AU]

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

Word Count: 3656

CW: Death, mild blood, violence, light adult language

Prismatic shockwaves rolled from the heart of the reactor like vast tsunamis. The metallic frame of the engine started to peel away like petals from a great obsidian flower.

But few actually paid attention to the Cambrian Engine–many were struggling to just not turn to ash.

Those closest to the Engine were now nothing more than shadows burnt across the floor. The expelled energy washed over bodies, trucks, and shelves; and while some were able to stand their ground, others were being blown away as if taken up in the hungry arms of a hurricane. Every new shockwave was another blinding flash of light followed by the sound of crashing oceans of unseen glass that drowned out the shouting.

Breath was ripped from Alice’s lungs as he looked on in terrified silence. His limbs felt cast in concrete, and his hair stood on end. His skin tingled as if a fine scalpel was wriggling deep between his molecules. His knuckles were snow white as he clung to Maura’s tablet–he couldn’t stop shaking.

The only bulwark between Alice and this celestial cataclysm was Freyja.

She stood tall–arms out and boots firmly planted. Alice watched smoke start to rise off her body. And though Alice was feeling the effect, Freyja was taking the brunt of whatever horror was blossoming before them.

But for how long?

Alice was shaken from his trance when he heard Lieutenant Sinclair scream.

Maura’s fingers dug into Alice’s arm like dull knives as she was lifted off the ground by one of the shockwaves. Alice’s heart pounded–his brain locked up. He wanted SO desperately to move…but he couldn’t. His muscles felt like they were made porcelain…and at any given moment he could shatter into a million bits of fine stardust.

Alice could only stare in horror. He went to speak–

Suddenly, Maura was ripped away from Alice’s arm as she was taken up in the winds of the Engine. She flailed uselessly as she flew end over end, before she reached out and grabbed the frame of one of the pallet racks. Her copper hair flew about like writhing snakes as she clung for dear life.

Maura locked eyes with Alice. She grit her teeth and struggled against the force of the shockwaves.

Maura opened her mouth…but stopped.

Her face visibly relaxed.

And perhaps out of shock or just a lack of attention, Maura’s grip slipped from the shelf. She didn’t even struggle–she didn’t even scream–as she was hurled through the air like a baseball. All Alice could do was watch as she sailed across the wakes of energy until she crashed through one of the high windows on the far end of the warehouse and vanished into the night.

Alice felt sick. Maura was gone, tossed aside like she was nothing. And yet he stayed bolted in place. Remarkably, Freyja hadn’t moved. Everything in Alice’s brain was telling him to run, to try and see if Maura was okay, to see if she was even still ALIVE.

Alice set his jaw as he gazed past Freyja and into the depths of the glowing Engine. It felt like he was staring into a black hole, but instead of ever hungry, it felt…ever giving? Ever expanding? A black hole in reverse, if such was possible.

His mind percolated. His tongue grew numb. He was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes…

Alice felt everything begin to…

Unravel.

Was this what death felt like?

All at once, everything went quiet.

The energy started to roll out in less frequent waves, like the final beats of a dying heart. The light within the Engine began to dwindle like a dying ember. Chunks of dark plating seemed to relax as the Cambrian Engine folded back in on itself. It was disturbing how quietly it just…shut down.

Alice’s ears rang as he heard the dull din of panic start to cry out around him. Dark dots swam in the corners of his vision as he realized he hadn’t blinked. He shut his eyes tight and clutched the tablet tightly to his chest…

He shivered, tears welling up. Burning bile crept up his throat as he imagined Maura sailing through the air, and her body-

“Maura…” Alice whimpered as collapsed in on himself. His knees started to buckle, and his chin pulled low over his chest.

“MONTAYNE!”

Alice’s eyes fluttered open as he heard Freyja’s name be called out. He looked around for its source, before recognizing it came from Corporal Ekland. Out of the corner of his eye, Alice spied the corporal running up to them–though he didn’t see the rest of Griffin. Those that hadn’t been vaporized or thrown about by the energy of the Engine started to act. Some moved to assist those that had been tossed about, while others were trying to coordinate some kind of an effort to form a perimeter around the Cambrian Engine. Though with Lieutenant Sinclair presumably dead and Agent Einhart nowhere to be found, it was hard to say if any of these soldiers were acting with sure knowledge of the situation, or if they were fumbling about trying to do what felt right.

Ekland ran to Freyja’s side. His face was glistening with sweat, and fresh blood ran down his forehead in a steady stream as he carefully studied his smoldering squadmate. Freyja was wordless, her arms still raised protectively Though Alice could not see her face, he could tell that she was panting–her chest heaved deep breaths as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Montayne.” Ekland grabbed her by the shoulders. “Can you hear m-?”

Ekland swore and quickly drew his hands back, as if he had been electrocuted.

“F-Freyja…?” Alice whimpered softly as he looked up at her. He reached out and gently placed a hand on the back of her bicep. It was surprisingly warm, but he wasn’t electrocuted like Ekland. Freyja’s arms finally began to relax somewhat. Alice carefully circled around so he could look up into her eyes. “Y-You saved me. I, um…”

Alice's insides twisted. His stomach lurched. Intrusive thoughts of Maura screaming…her body flying through the air…horrible images of what her body might look like if he ran outside…he couldn’t help but cry as he struggled to find words to thank Freyja, and to ask if she was okay.

“Y-You okay…?”

The question caught Alice off guard. He looked up through his tears to find her looking down at him.

Her sweat slicked skin was bright red, raw, and already beginning to peel; she looked like she had second-degree sunburns. Additionally, her straw blonde hair was drained of color–with her hair charred black on the buzzed half and at the roots, and with her flop now bone-bleached. And though tears rolled down her cheeks and one eye was clenched shut, Freyja still managed a gentle–if not pained–smile down at him.

Alice stared for a minute, still surprised that the question was directed at him while she was the one who took the Engine’s energy head-on. And she was SMILING through it too.

Alice’s voice was shaky as he nodded and lied, “I-I’m…I’m okay. What about y-”

Alice was cut off as Freyja’s face contorted in pain. Her smile curled into a snarl as she raised a hand to nurse her head. The look she gave was if someone was pounding a railroad spike into her skull. Alice’s hand went up in surprise, but before he could ask what was the matter, she had already staggered off with a groan.

“Wait, Frey!” Alice gasped as he hurried after her.

Each step of hers grew more belabored as Freyja made her way over towards the front of a nearby truck. Her body started to tremble. Alice had a hunch she was going into shock. She slumped up against the grill of the truck with a heavy THUMP before falling down to one knee. Without thinking, Alice was by her side. He finally set the tablet down to free up his hands.

Sadly, he had quite a bit of experience dealing with soldiers going into shock–he needed to check her symptoms.

Thank you, Lieutenant Sinclair.

Alice knelt in front of her and gingerly touched her arm. “Hey. I need you to open your eyes for me–gotta check your pupils.”

Freyja shivered at Alice’s touch. After a moment of hesitation, she finally opened her eyes.

Alice’s voice hitched. He had been perhaps anticipating enlarged pupils indicative of someone going into shock…

He wasn’t anticipating her eyes to be glowing.

Alice jerked his hand away. He struggled to find words. This shouldn’t be possible. Maybe it was from him staring too long into the Cambrian Engine’s reactor, or maybe he was just going into shock as well?

Regardless, he couldn’t break contact with those eyes that bathed his face in a lovely emerald light.

Freyja furrowed her brow as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Y-Your face is glowing...”

“I-It’s not my face that’s doing that…” Alice quietly corrected–everything went numb as he was completely transfixed. He was a whirlpool of emotions as he struggled with wanting to throw up, thinking about Maura…but also guilt for not being able to look away from Freyja’s burning gaze…

Out of the corner of his eye, Alice spied Ekland arguing with an austere looking officer. He was presumably one of the soldiers that had come along with Agent Einhart. He was flanked by two soldiers of his own–both of whom had their rifles at the ready. It took Alice a moment to register that soldiers shouldn’t need the weapons drawn in a military base.

“...she’s coming with us,” the officer snarled to Ekland before taking a step in Alice and Freyja’s direction. Ekland took a step to block her approach, and the rifles from the officer’s entourage went up.

“Whoa! Easy!” Ekland tried keeping his voice steady. “What’s the big idea? Are none of you going to tell us what the hell’s going on?”

The officer wordlessly looked to the soldier to his right and that soldier moved like clockwork–they slammed the butt of their rifle right into Ekland’s face. As Ekland reacted and moved his hands towards his face, the soldier lunged forward and twisted one of Ekland’s arms behind his back before shoving him to the floor. Ekland swore and yelled in protest, but the officer and the remaining soldier made their way over towards Alice and Freyja…

He kept a hand on his holstered Glock.

“Get her out of here,” the officer ordered as he motioned towards Freyja. The soldier nodded and moved to comply, but he recoiled and froze when she glared up at him with glowing eyes.

Either not caring or not paying attention, the officer ignored what was going on with Freyja and moved towards Alice. He stopped short and crouched down, his hand going for Maura’s tablet.

In a move that either was brave or stupid, Alice swiped up the tablet. The officer looked up sharply–his nostrils flaring.

“Give me the tablet,” he demanded, one hand outstretched…and the other drawing the Glock. “I won’t ask again.”

Alice’s blood turned cold. When he failed to speak, the officer jabbed his Glock into the side of his ribs to punctuate his point. Alice whimpered, tears of fear welled up as he went to hand over the tablet…

Freyja snarled.

Freyja dug her fingers into the metal of the truck’s hood as if it was clay. Metal screeched and shouts were raised from observing soldiers, as Freyja ripped the hood off and effortlessly swatted the two soldiers away as if they were Wiffle balls. Their guns clattered to the ground as they tumbled end over end across the floor of the warehouse. She had hit them so hard that one of the soldier’s boots and the officer’s earpiece and radio were dislodged.

Alice’s heart was still racing–the impression of the Glock pressed into his ribs was seared brightly into his brain. After a moment of catching their breath, Alice finally spoke, “I-I…didn’t realize you were that strong.”

“I…I’m not,” Freyja admitted confusedly as she observed the way her fingers were cutting into the metal of the reinforced hood.

“~This night keeps getting weirder and weir-der~…” Alice replied with a nervous, sing-songy voice. Freyja gave him a look–perhaps to ask why he was singing of all things…but before her lips could move, her face twisted back up in pain once more as the hood slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. Soldiers were rushing to assist the swatted soldiers, but others were moving to secure Freyja and Alice–after all, Freyja did just assault a commanding officer.

“Freyja.” Alice’s eyes were wide as he saw the soldiers running up. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked up at her despite her eyes being clamped tightly. Freyja’s shoulder muscles tremble under his hand. His skin seemed to tingle, as if his palm was hovering above a livewire. Freyja’s muscle flexed, and Alice felt her uniform begin to tear beneath his touch. “We need to stay c-c-c-calm, and-”

Freyja roared so loudly that the windows of the truck shattered.

Alice yanked his hand back to cover a ringing ear as he hissed in pain. The approaching soldiers stopped–they raised their rifles with a mix of precaution, confusion, and fear. Freyja fell forward with one hand balled into a fist on the concrete and the other now gripping tightly to the grill of the now hoodless truck. The grill groaned softly as Freyja’s fingers began to bend the metal.

Freyja suddenly arched as if she had been shot with a taser at the base of her spine. Smoke started to escape from within her uniform. The metal of the grill now completely twisted and bent as she gripped it as tightly as she could–as if her life depended on it.

Perhaps it did?

“Somebody help her!” Alice screamed, looking around desperately. None of the soldiers seemed moved by his cry. They seemed far more interested in observing and reacting, then stepping in to assist.

Alice was about to utter another desperate plea to the agent before Freyja lurched forward as if to vomit. And as she moved forward, the seams of her sleeves split as her arms began to bulge and flex…

Alice had seen sped up timelapses of trees growing in a forest–how decades of time and nourishment had led to the growth and creation of such a grand thing. Likewise he knew how a kitten could go from palm-sized to bigger than a loaf of bread in a matter of months.

However, he had never even considered the possibility of watching a woman grow bigger than a tree in a matter of seconds–no timelapse necessary.

And yet, there she was.

It started off at 10 feet…then 20 feet…then 50, 80...she wasn’t stopping. It was dizzying trying to comprehend just how massive Freyja was becoming–and she was only kneeling at this moment.

Tires squealed to Alice’s right as Freyja’s growth forced the truck off to one side–her fingers went from simply gripping the grill, to creeping and curling up the frame of the vehicle. The shelving units behind her groaned in brief futility before their restraining bolts bent and snapped as the new presence in the space leaned into them and told them “move, or be moved.” As the first shelf fell backward, it crashed into the one behind it thus causing rows upon rows of shelves to crash and fall like dominos.

And though Alice’s ears were still ringing from her shout, he could still make out soldiers shouting and scrambling to make sense of the situation.

Freyja’s sunburnt skin went from merely “steamed pink” to genuine, stark crimson–her hands and forearms began to glow as the raw skin shifted into a vivid aqua that glowed like her eyes. Within her new colorful sinew and muscles, Alice saw flashes of lightning–as if there was a thunderstorm roiling within her body.

He could only watch as her body began to fill the heavens above him, completely casting him in her shadow.

Skin split as spikes slid out from her calves and forearms and bruised knuckles…armor plating grew from titanic shoulders…her skin quivered as flesh turned to fine, draconic scales…a raised spine that arced with the light of a fresh storm unfurled from her back…

The hand that had once gripped the grill of the armored truck had steadily grown and overtaken the entire vehicle with ease. Her clawed fingers idly curled around the truck like a stress ball as she exhaled heavy plumes past her lips. She struggled to catch her breath–the metal frame of the truck began to creak under the slightest movements of her titanic, reknit fingers.

The warehouse grew bizarrely quiet as the air grew heavy and thick with humidity. Freyja kept one hand on the truck and another hand splayed on the warehouse floor as her head hung low.

Alice slowly stood and took a reverent step backwards, his body trembling as he gazed up at her. His heart was racing. He KNEW he should run…but he couldn’t. His knees were locked in place, and his feet refused to move further. He was completely and utterly in both awe and terror with what he was witnessing. He could only describe this as beholding something great and terrible shed its chrysalis–like something truly divine being born. And nothing on all of God’s green Earth was comparable to what Freyja had become.

But even with that thought, Alice felt a bizarre sense of responsibility in this moment. He knew that whatever Freyja had become didn’t change the fact that she was still a person, and if he really WAS responsible for the Cambrian Engine’s activation, then her transformation into what she was now was his fault. And though he hadn’t known her for terribly long–they’d only known each other for a few hours, in fact–he couldn’t comprehend leaving her. Not like this. It was a stupid feeling that defied all logic, but Alice couldn’t deny the responsibility he felt.

Alice knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would’ve done the same for him.

Still, that didn’t make this any less terrifying.

Hot tears streamed down Alice’s face as he attempted to swallow his fear. After he felt his breathing was sufficiently under control, he called up to her.

“Frey?” Alice yelled. Flashes of bright blue light danced beneath Freyja's skin like lightning behind a thunderhead. Alice’s glasses grew steamy as she breathed heavily. The air shook in a way that Alice at first thought was thunder, but he quickly realized…it was Freyja growling.

Alice froze.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Off to the side, glass shattered and metal bent effortlessly as Freyja absentmindedly crumpled up the truck in her grasp into a tight ball of tinfoil. Alice paled and his eyes widened as he watched as 30 tons of metal was crushed within her hand.

A dull explosion followed, with lashing tongues of fire licking from between her fingers. Freyja didn’t even seem to notice. She hadn’t even bothered to open her eyes.

The soldiers started to cry out around the warehouse in response to the explosion, but Freyja didn’t react. Many of them attempted to form some sort of a perimeter around the hulking goliath–but what good would it do them? Somehow Alice doubted their rifles could do much against metric tons of scale and muscle.

“Y-You’re okay…” Alice tried to soothingly reassure Freyja–despite the way his teeth chattered incessantly. He kept the tablet held close to his chest while raising his hand up towards her. “C-Can…can you hear me Freyja?”

Finally, her eyes cracked open.

Like some titanic predator, Freyja got in low to examine Alice. She regarded him…curiously. He took another step out of fear and swallowed hard, but he tried to stay his ground as best as he could despite his pounding heart. Her glowing green eyes lit up every inch of him…each exhale of breath steamed up his glasses further. She made a curious noise that Alice could only compare to an alligator’s bellow…but one that rattled his bones as she studied him.

Alice couldn’t help but find himself enraptured in this moment. What he was witnessing was impossible–a woman transformed from a person into a titanic, half-dragon with glowing eyes and glowing limbs and the fact he was trying to talk to her? He was either insane, or just plain stupid.

Her skin crackled with electricity. The sweat that rolled down in great big drops down Freyja’s face started to evaporate from the sheer heat of her skin. Her massive lips twitched as if she was attempting to formulate a reply…

But her attempts were cut short, as an outside explosion rocked the warehouse.

What started off as one explosion turned into multiple…followed by gunfire, warning sirens, screaming…

…and a deafening roar that shattered the remaining windows of Warehouse 12B.

The moment Freyja heard that roar, her eyes instantly dilated. The inquisitive bellow now turned into a low growl. What had started as sparks across her cheeks now were angry arcs of lightning that danced through her eyes and her hair. Her lips curled into a hungry snarl that revealed teeth bigger than Alice’s torso.

Alice squeaked. “F-Frey? Are…are you-”

From the abandoned earpiece of the officer that Freyja had batted across the room, they heard a crackling voice issue an order:

//Contain the Engine—secure the tablet.//

Despite the unseen chaos erupting outside the warehouse, nothing felt more deafening than the clink, clink, clink as a grenade bounced between Alice and Freyja’s face and rolled to a halt between them. Alice felt a great intake of air from Freyja, and he felt his stomach drop.

The last thing Alice remembered seeing was a massive blue hand the size of a truck reaching out to swallow him up…

…and everything going black.

#g/t #giant/tiny #ogtoc alice #ogtoc freyja #wholesome giantess #g/t writing #Genesis Day #Kaiju!AU #Kaijune #ogtoc maura #g/t action

60 notes · View notes

juju-on-that-yeet · 1 year

Text

Unravel (17/20)

Work Summary: Antisepticeye has a plan to destroy Darkiplier, steal his power, and take over everything - and he might just succeed. What starts with Yandereplier going missing evolves into a messy web of betrayal and grief, of blood and tears, of old wounds and new faces. However this ends, Ego Inc. will never be the same again. Chapter Summary: Things are finally starting to improve at Ego Inc., but there’s still more to do to prepare for Anti’s return - including a return to a place thought lost, for a person thought gone. Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

It happens only a day after Google, Chrome, and Bing finally finish repairing Oliver and Plus. After this, there’s truly nothing left to do but wait for something to happen. Many days have passed since the battle with Anti and his puppets, and the thought of him coming back still looms large. Surely Jackie and Marvin are alive again by now, given their popularity.

But before Anti can return, something else happens instead.

One day after Oliver and Plus are repaired, Chrome is lingering in the workshop anyway, ostensibly creating some small gadget but more aware of his brothers than the metalwork in his hands. He is impatient as he always is. Google is outside the workshop using a video game for distraction, and Chrome has tried that, but felt the need to be close to his brothers. Maybe a part of him knew what would happen, maybe his internal connections to his brothers let him know that something was going to change.

Whatever the reason, Chrome is in the room when Plus wakes up.

His eyes shoot open, and his whole system stutters in what would be a gasp if he were human. But Plus has no real need for air, so instead, he’s seized by a body-wide glitch, but only for a moment. In the next, he is sitting up, astonished, frozen in place by the shock of being alive.

He glances around, and sees Oliver, still dead. He sees Chrome, also frozen, staring at Plus in amazement, the way early man might’ve stared at the sunrise. For many long moments, nothing happens. Both are in too much shock. But it passes before long, as memories start to flood into Plus, and emotion starts to flood into Chrome.

“Green,” Chrome gasps, walking towards his brother. Walking, but then running.

“Red,” Plus says back, voice just as strained, unable to get out anything else before Chrome slams into him, squeezing him hard enough to crush if he were a human.

Plus sobs, tears falling out of him without his control, hands clinging to Chrome’s shirt, looking for grounding. Chrome is crying too, as he has done many times in the recent past, but this time it feels different. It still hurts, but the hurt is warm, red-hot with love and joy that he has his twin back.

It’s at that moment that Google, attracted by the noise (and immediately recognizing the sound of his once-dead brother’s tears) slams open the door of the workshop, too single-minded to care about damaging it. Google sees the pair of them, and his core thrums with that same sort of joyful pain that Chrome is feeling too, but he sees something else just beyond them that makes his eyes go huge. Chrome and Plus look at Google and turn to track his gaze.

In their reunion, they didn’t notice Oliver sit up in his own stretcher, hand over his core at the memory of it being ripped from him, gasping. He feels eyes on him and looks up, sees his brothers staring.

“Guys?” he whimpers, already teary-eyed, already strained, already rendered quiet from the sobs building in his throat.

Google’s by him so fast it’s like he teleported, holding him close, and Oliver feels the tears of his stoic, cool-headed big brother seep into his hair. That’s all he needs to start crying too, much harder, much messier than all four of his brothers. He glitches, not as bad as Plus did, but repeatedly, emotions running so high that even his sophisticated metal cortex can barely process them.

Each pair comes together, in a circle of equal parts relief and joy, terror and regret, pain, love.

“I’m sorry,” Chrome sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry–”

“I-It’s not, no-o-ot–” Oliver tries to say, but can’t get through his sentence for glitching.

“Ollie’s right, i-it wasn’t your fault,” Plus explains and affirms, leaning forward and letting his forehead touch Chrome’s.

“We’re okay,” Google murmurs, the only one not talking through sobs, though his voice is still warped from tears. He kisses each brother’s head. “We’re all okay now.”

He’s hyper-intelligent, they all are, yet none of them can think of anything more to say. It’s so very human, the way their emotions are clogging their throats and scrambling their thoughts, but none of them care. Their family is whole again, and nothing else matters.

The news that Oliver and Plus are alive spreads fast, and the egos are overjoyed for them, relieved to have something good to break through the fear and despair they’ve all been feeling, happy to have Plus and Oliver back, glad beyond words that they did not fade away into the ether.

The Host is happy for them too, he supposes.

As happy as he can be, while Dr. Iplier remains dead. Google stitched him up days ago, yet he still hasn’t woken. Oliver and Plus woke up immediately after being fixed, but here is Dr. Iplier, body whole, yet without a soul to call it home.

Host is with him now, in Dr. Iplier’s room and sitting at his bedside, as he always is lately. He only ever leaves him to sleep in his own room (he did try to sleep alongside Dr. Iplier once, but he was too cold and too still, and it provided Host no comfort). He only ever stays away when his despair prevents him from getting out of bed. Yandere at least has Chrome to concern himself with, and Yancy and Wilford to turn to when he desires a break from staring at Dr. Iplier’s motionless face, and is thus here less often than Host is.

But Host has no one else. Dr. Iplier is his all. It hurts Host so desperately to be in the room with him, to hear the silence where there should be breath, to feel how much colder Dr. Iplier’s hands are than they should be. But what else can he do? He loves Dr. Iplier, he can’t stay away. If Dr. Iplier faded away while Host wasn’t with him, Host would never forgive himself for not being there. He wonders if this was how Dr. Iplier felt when The Author died, when he was waiting and hoping for him to wake, dreading the thought of him disappearing, consumed by paranoia and terror and slow, aching agony. Host would not wish this feeling on even Dark.

But he wishes it on Anti, if only the man had someone he loved enough to be hurt by. Host is only ever not numb or depressed when he thinks about Anti, no doubt annoyed at the last battle’s stalemate but otherwise content. Meanwhile, here is Host, dying the slow death of grief. When Anti ripped out Dr. Iplier’s heart, he ripped out Host’s heart, too.

There’s a meeting today. Host was summoned. He does not care. He will stay here, by his doctor, because now that Oliver and Plus have woken, it’s only a matter of time before Dr. Iplier either wakes or fades. No matter which it is, Host will be there for it. He can’t help but narrate every so often, just so he can visualize Dr. Iplier and make sure he isn’t going transparent. He’d probably feel it if it began to happen, feel Dr. Iplier’s hand become incorporeal in his. But he doesn’t want to take the risk, so he narrates, even as it pains him to see his love this way. He used to talk more, used to whisper to Dr. Iplier, tell him how missed he was, how loved, how desperately needed. But Host has run out of things to say, and he finds himself always exhausted, too tired to speak much at all. He used to cry, but he can’t muster it now. His eyes bleed anyway, enough to have Google changing his bandages every day, but Host never sobs, and his voice, though raspy and quiet, does not waver with tears. Were Host human, he would surely have bled out a hundred times over since Dr. Iplier was killed.

But he will stay, stay until Dr. Iplier comes back to him or leaves him forever, and either way, he will bleed out a hundred times more.

At least, that is his plan, until Wilford comes into the room after the meeting Host skipped.

Host doesn’t need his eyes to know it’s Wilford. His steps are heavy, louder than they need to be, but springy in a way that the similarly weighty steps of the androids aren’t. Wilford’s not alone either; feather-light steps come behind him, suggesting a small stature and subdued manner, yet with a similar bounce to them as Wilford’s. But Host mainly recognizes Yandere’s steps from all the times he’s heard them in the recent past. Wilford and Yandere come into the room, and one of them (probably Yandere) closes the door behind them.

“Host,” Wilford begins, “We missed you at the meeting.”

Host lets out a noncommittal mumble.

“We have…” Wilford starts, unsure of the words to use, “We have a plan, something we want to do to help us with Anti and help bring back Dark. But we need you to help us do it.”

“What exactly is this plan?” Host asks. He doesn’t direct his head towards Wilford’s voice, or really move at all, but he is somewhat curious. As current second-in-command, he supposes it’s for the best that he cares.

“Well, Celine has gotten a bit…restless, lately,” Wilford says, and Host can hear the tension and frustration in his tone. “She’s been going through Dark’s office, looking for anything useful. Damien wasn’t aware of anything there, he said as much, but Celine looked anyway, and she found something.”

Host isn’t surprised to hear about Celine’s restlessness. The emotions between Wilford and Celine were so thick in the air that Host could sense them without even narrating, and it had only seemed to get more intense the longer Wilford helped Celine develop her magic. Though Host was rarely with them while they trained, he could sense the romantic turmoil they were feeling even when he encountered them separately. Wilford certainly had it more deeply, but Celine had love for Wilford too, Host could tell. Maybe she still does, but something happened not very long ago that changed the air between them. Their emotions around each other now are much more subdued, sadder, solemn, frustrated. Host doesn’t know what happened, but whatever it was, it affected them both greatly, apparently enough to make Celine look for an escape.

“What did she find?” Host asks.

“Notes. About…” Wilford huffs out. “About the manor. And a map. Dark…” Wilford huffs again, sadder and slower. “Dark knew where it was this whole time.”

Host sits up straighter at that. It astonishes him, that the manor exists out there, the pure fact of it, and then the fact that Dark knew about it, and finally the knowledge that Dark kept it a secret. But once the initial shock wears off, he finds it to be unsurprising. Of course the manor exists, why wouldn’t it, given the magic it held? And if it exists, it follows that Dark would be the one to find it, given his deep connection to the place. The fact that he hid it is harder to swallow. Host is, frankly, amazed that he never noticed what Dark was hiding this whole time. But then, he always knew Dark kept secrets, kept things close to his chest. Host never cared to reveal them because he doubted it would lead to anything useful. If anything it would only draw Dark’s ire, the last thing Host wanted. Wilford, in his normal less-than-lucid state, would have never sought out the manor or questioned if Dark knew about it. There was no one brave enough or clever enough to figure out what Dark was hiding…no one until Celine, herself a part of Dark.

Host turns his body to Wilford and angles his head to face where his voice is coming from, though he remains seated with a hand grasping Dr. Iplier’s.

“That is quite the revelation.” An understatement, but Host is still reeling. “Do you know why Dark kept this to himself?”

“From his notes, and from knowing him, it seems like he was worried about setting off Actor. He’s never bothered us, even with all of Mark’s projects, and maybe messing with the manor could put him on our paths again.”

Host can understand that. All these years, none of them knew if Actor could pop back up again, and what kind of havoc he’d cause if he did. And Dark, one of the very few who knew firsthand what he was capable of, would have wanted to keep him contained. Host can imagine Dark trying to figure out how to root Actor out, how to kill him, but failing, and thus resolving to keep the manor hidden and secret so no one could set him free. All the more reason not to tell anyone about the manor, lest some curious or adventurous younger ego find it and release Actor by accident.

All that considered, Host can tell in Wilford’s voice that there’s more to the situation. He didn’t just come to relay information to Host, he said there was a plan.

“But…?” Host prompts Wilford.

“But…Actor’s not the only one still trapped in the manor. The District Attorney’s there, too. They’re stuck there, but Celine thinks that if we freed them, they could help us reform Dark. Since there’s always been the problem of not having his body anymore…maybe this would help us get it. And who knows what sort of power the DA could have now; that could help us, too.”

Host considers this. That makes sense, too; DA was kicked out of their own body and left in the manor’s mirror, by all accounts they could still be there. And the DA is much less feared than Actor. They’re an audience insert, and though Mark’s audience is fickle and fanatical in equal measure, the community is bursting with joy and humor and love for Mark and his creations. If the DA is still in the manor, they’d be as much of an ally to the egos as Actor is an enemy. The DA could be a huge help in defeating Anti and bringing back Dark…but getting the DA could free Actor. And Host still doesn’t know why his help is needed.

“The Host is intrigued,” Host admits, “But he wonders what his part in this is meant to be.”

Wilford sighs. Not the short huffs he made before, but something a little longer. Yandere makes the first sound he’s made since he closed the door earlier – fidgeting on his feet, shuffling quietly.

“I need your vote on whether or not we try to free the DA, for one thing,” Wilford says, “And, well…if we do go get them, Bim and I are going, but we might not be enough. You’re nearly as strong a reality-bender as I am. So you would have to come–”

“No.” Host turns away from Wilford in an instant, refocusing himself towards Dr. Iplier’s bed. “The Host is not going anywhere.”

“Host, come on–”

“The Actor could do much worse to us than Antisepticeye if he was able to get free of the manor. We cannot risk that, not for the reward of a potential body for Dark. Either way, The Host is staying with Dr. Iplier.”

“Host.” Wilford is annoyed, his voice is short. “This could be the edge we need against Anti, and we can’t just not stop him. We have to try every option. We already failed against him once, we can’t afford to fail again.”

“There is no “we” failed,” Host snarks, “The Host recalls using his narration to salvage the fight and stop Anti from causing more deaths. Host has earned the right to sit this out.” He clenches Dr. Iplier’s hand tighter. “Oliver and Plus have woken up. Dr. Iplier could wake up or fade away at any second. Host cannot leave him now.”

“Host, I hate to play this card, but you’re second in command right now. You have more than just Doc to think about.”

“Convenient, then, that your role and the situation we’re all in allows you to only think about Dark.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it!”

“Answer this, Wilford,” Host intones, voice dropping lower, “If you could return to the past, return to when Dark was still here, in the clinic, healing from his burns, would you have left his side, knowing what you know now?”

Host can imagine Wilford opening his mouth and closing it again, but he doesn’t narrate, doesn’t know for sure if that’s what Wilford is doing. But he hears no good retort, only a long pause, followed by an angry growl. Wilford stomps out of the room, opening the door so roughly it slams the opposite wall.

But Host does not hear a second set of footsteps follow him out. All is quiet for a moment.

“The Host knows that Yandere is still here,” Host says. His voice is not so low, now. Only tired, as it always seems to be.

“Yeah,” Yandere acknowledges. He moves, but only to shut the door of the room once again. He doesn’t leave.

“Why have you stayed? If Wilford could not convince Host to cooperate, why do you think you can?”

“I…” Yandere steps closer. “Well, I get where you’re coming from, at least.” His footsteps stop when he’s right beside Host, right at Dr. Iplier’s bedside with him. “I love Shishi, too.” Yandere’s voice is suddenly wobbly.

Instead of responding, Host narrates to himself, and sees Dr. Iplier’s face in his mind’s eye. He wishes every time that this time might be the time he sees color flow back into his doctor’s cheeks, sees his eyes open, hears him breathe, feels his hand squeeze Host’s hand back. But this time is like every other, Dr. Iplier seems no closer to waking, but no closer to eternal death.

“Katarite-san, I know you miss Shishi,” Yandere whispers, too choked up to speak more loudly, “I miss him too, and I miss Yami, I know how you feel. I know how it feels to…to lose your person.” Yandere sniffles. He must be crying now. “I don’t know Shishi as well as you do, b-but I know he…he’d hate to see you like this. And h-he’d want you to help us beat Anti. He’d want you to help fix what he started.”

“Is that how you think of him? Of this?”

“N-Not really, but he would. You know he would.”

Yandere has a point. God, Dr. Iplier would despair, wouldn’t he, if he could see Host now? If he saw how many meals Host has skipped, how much sleep he’s lost, how sad and empty and angry he’s been. And Dr. Iplier hated himself for the lies he told, for the awful things he did to create the situation the egos are in. He’d be begging Host to help, begging Host to go with Bim and Wilford to get the DA and get a step closer to fixing things.

But. Host feels glued to his chair before Dr. Iplier’s bed. How could he leave him now? What if he fades? It may be selfish, but Host cares more about his doctor than anything else now. Without Dr. Iplier, Host has nothing. If Dr. Iplier disappears without Host there, the regret will destroy Host for the rest of his life.

“Host can’t leave him,” Host whispers. His voice is low again, not angry and cutting, but quiet, sad, desperate.

“I’ll be here,” Yandere says. He sniffles again, but Host can hear the brush of his hands as he wipes his face, hear him take determined breaths to stop weeping. “Katarite-san, if you go with Wil and Bim-san then I swear I’ll stay right here and tell you as soon as anything changes. I know how to contact you, and I promise you I will if something happens. And Wil could teleport you back here in an instant.”

It’s an offer anyone could make. An offer that Host should refuse. Fading is often fast; by the time Host receives the message, it could already be too late, even with Wilford’s teleportation. But it’s not anyone making this offer, it’s Yandere. Yandere, who’s already lost the person he loves most. Yandere, who doesn’t love Dr. Iplier the same way Host does, but loves him just as fiercely. Yandere, who understands more than anyone could the full gravity of what’s at stake, who understands exactly what Host has to lose. Yandere, who is making this offer with the utmost sincerity, who would take it more seriously than anyone else could. Yandere, who has reminded Host of what Dr. Iplier would choose for Host if he were able.

All of these things play a part into why Host thinks for many long moments, but ultimately sighs.

“Fine.”

“You – wait, you’re gonna…?”

“The Host will go with Wilford and Bim to the manor, if you promise to stay with Dr. Iplier, and to call Host if anything at all changes.”

“I promise, Katarite-san, on my life!”

Host believes him. Before getting up, he begins to narrate to himself, under his breath. Maybe Yandere can hear him, but if so, it would be just barely.

“In front of Host lies Dr. Iplier, as still as he ever is, as cold and absent as he’s been for many days. His expression is neutral, empty. But he is still Host’s doctor. Host can imagine now exactly how his features would appear if they sprang to life in this instant. It is this image that he hopes to ingrain in his mind, just in case.” Host leans forward, closer to Dr. Iplier, lays a hand on his cold cheek. “Host asks his doctor to stay, just a while longer, at least until Host can return to him.” He leans further, until his lips are a breath away from Dr. Iplier’s forehead. “I love you,” he says, so quiet he hardly hears himself, before closing the gap and kissing Dr. Iplier’s forehead. He lingers there for a moment, but eventually forces himself to pull away and stand.

He doesn’t trust his voice any longer, and instead moves to leave the room (Dr. Iplier’s room is familiar enough to him that he needs no words to navigate). He hears Yandere take his earlier seat, hears him get in the chair and scoot it a little bit closer. Host finds Yandere hard to trust in most respects, but he trusts him now, with this.

Host finds Wilford (and Bim, and Damien and Celine) in his studio, no longer so angry at Host’s earlier refusal but pensive and worried. Host isn’t noticed right away, so he lingers where he is for a moment, observing.

“Well, even if Host doesn’t want to go, can’t we just go on our own?” asks Bim, anxious, but whether he’s more anxious about confronting the manor without Host or about the tension in the air of the studio, Host can’t tell.

“Host wasn’t much a fan of us going anyway,” Wilford admits. Host can tell he’s biting his thumbnail through his words; a nervous habit he’s had for a long time but one that he rarely feels enough nerves to do. “It might have been an excuse so he didn’t have to leave Doc, but he has a point. I mean, Dark was worried enough about Actor to let this lie for so long…” He sighs. “It’s still so hard to believe.”

“It’s hard to believe you didn’t find it sooner, Damien,” says Celine, sharp. “Dark’s office has been yours since you woke up, and in all your effort to figure things out here, you couldn’t find what I found in a few days?”

“I’m not a snoop,” Damien mutters, “What are you trying to say?”

“Celine–” Wilford starts, not quite warning, but almost pleading with her.

“Maybe you didn’t want to find anything to help get Dark back,” she says, “You never seem very excited about the prospect in meetings.”

“And you are?” Damien scoffs.

“I understand what has to be done,” Celine snaps, “I always have. And you’ve always been in denial.”

“Celine,” Wilford says again, still pleading.

“That’s hardly fair!” Damien yells. By the sound of it, he gets up from the chair he was sitting in. “You can’t seriously call what I was doing back then “denial,” not when you were trying so hard to keep me there!”

“Well, I’m not trying anymore!” Celine yells back. Host gets the sense she’d stand as well if she could, but as it is, her wheels click, and a breath of narration tells Host that she moves right up to Damien to get in his face, even though their eye levels don’t match. “I’m not trying to keep you from understanding anything or hiding the truth anymore, so what’s your excuse for ignoring it this time??”

“Host! How long have you been here?” Bim suddenly exclaims.

Even without narration, Host feels the atmosphere of the room change as the others notice his presence.

“Host?” Wilford asks. “Are you…?”

“The sooner we go to the manor and find the DA,” Host says, “The sooner Host can come back to Dr. Iplier.”

“Okay. Okay!” Bim says, trying to hype himself up for the trip.

“Alright then,” Wilford says, clearly wondering what prompted the change of heart but not wanting to ask and risk Host changing his mind. “Let’s go. There was a photo of the place in Dark’s notes, so I can teleport us there easy.” He pauses, and Host narrates enough to see Wilford turn towards Damien and Celine. “Are you two…good?”

“Good enough,” Damien mutters, sullen. Celine says nothing.

“Alright,” Wilford says awkwardly, not believing him but not about to push it.

In the next moment, Host is weightless, and the smell of cotton candy fills his nose. In the moment after, his feet hit the ground and he nearly stumbles.

Under his shoes is grass, Host can feel the bounce of the earth. The sun is shining, the breeze is light. He hears the gentle rustling of tree branches in the wind. He wonders where exactly they are. Still in California, surely, but Host can’t know for sure. The place sounds and feels nearly idyllic. But Wilford and Bim are silent, aside from the awed gasp they each let out.

“Holy shit,” says Bim.

“Bully,” breathes Wilford.

Host narrates.

“Before the three men is the manor, the place where Wilford and Dark were made. It looks as old as it is; the walls are crumbling, moss runs up the stone, the windows are broken with cobwebs replacing panes of glass. Yet it is huge, it towers over the landscape, and despite the bright sun surrounding the group, all three feel a chill staring up at it. Though they came here with a purpose, they hardly want to go inside. The manor is stirring something in their blood, as if their very bones know the significance of this place.”

“We’re gonna have to go in eventually,” says Bim, though he does not move.

A long pause. Though Host is still eager to finish the task at hand and return to Dr. Iplier, he finds he’s much less eager to go into the manor. The building should be benign, now; Dark’s aura is no longer there, after all. But there’s still magic emanating from it, so strong that even Bim should be able to feel it. Magic that is perhaps keeping both the DA and Actor contained. Instinctually, Host doesn’t want to disturb it.

“Come on, then!” Wilford suddenly says, brisk and sharp, practically storming off to the manor’s front door. Bim and Host follow.

Wilford hardly has to push the door; it’s so frail and the wood so rotted that it nearly opens itself, and the group step onto the cracked tile of the entryway. Host narrates to himself as the others look around.

“This room was grand, once. The ceiling is still high, the chandelier still hangs, the furniture still exists. But much like the outside of the manor, the room too shows the years it’s sat here abandoned. The fabric of the couches are ragged and rotting, the chandelier is broken and useless, the ceiling has holes that let sunlight leak through. The balcony above is sagging under its own weight, the wood railing is splintered and cracked. The mirror at the other end of the room is cracked in a familiar pattern, and it and the table before it are covered in dust. Bim is looking at the place with amazement and only a little disgust at the mold and rot. Wilford wanders about as if in a trance, taken in by memory.”

“Shoot, are you gonna be okay, Wil?” Bim asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wilford replies absently, “Just…taking a look at the place, is all.” Host’s narration shows Wilford ending up at the mirror and laying a hand on the table in front of it, taking no notice of the dust. “It’s funny, the place doesn’t feel so…so ominous anymore.”

“You sure about that?” Bim mutters, no doubt eyeing the decay of the space.

“The aura’s not here anymore,” Wilford murmurs, almost sadly. “This place is just a building, now.”

“Nearly,” Host says, “The manor is still a magical centerpoint, Host can feel it. It was marked by what happened here, and there are forces here still at play, however subtle.”

“That would explain how it’s managed to go undisturbed so long,” Bim muses, “It’d probably have a few squatters otherwise.”

“Makes sense,” Wilford says, still quiet, and – Host guesses and confirms – still looking at the mirror.

Host resumes a slow walk around the ground floor of the manor, narrating to himself as he goes. He takes in the scenery, the rays of light coming through the windows and holes in the walls, the peeling wallpaper, the dust, the mold – the cracks in the tile and steps down that threaten to trip him up. Even now, the manor has its tricks. Host has to wonder what happened to the chef, the butler, the groundskeeper, whether they escaped with their lives somehow or if the manor subsumed them like it did Actor and the DA. He figures that if one of them was still here his sharp ears would’ve heard them by now. As it is, there is little sound at all, aside from birds chirping outside, the occasional wind blowing through the decaying walls, and the soft footsteps of himself and the others. Host isn’t quite sure what he’s searching for, but he knows he’ll understand it when he finds it. The magic in the air is still humming at a constant flow, never seeming to increase or decrease.

Host narrates, trying to see if Wilford or Bim have found anything. Bim is at the foot of the staircase, regarding the dark, rotten steps with trepidation, probably trying to decide if it’s safe enough to climb. Wilford hasn’t moved from before the mirror, still staring at it intently. His gaze is no longer wistful, his brow is slightly furrowed. Host makes his way to him, planning to ask him what he’s noticed, but Wilford yells out in shock before he can.

Host nearly jumps at the sudden noise, and hears the crash of Wilford falling backwards.

“Wil??” cries Bim, rushing from the staircase to help him up, “What happened, are you okay!?” Host continues to Wilford more calmly.

“I’m fine,” Wilford says, “The mirror, I saw something moving in it, I saw–” He cuts off.

“Oh my god,” Bim gasps.

Host can already sense something, he already feels something from the mirror, a magical energy he’s never found before, one that he can’t quite pinpoint. Its resonance matched the rest of the manor earlier, but its signature is much clearer now. Once again, he narrates.

“In the mirror, obscured by the dust but unmistakable, is a person. Surely, it is the DA, but…The Host cannot tell for certain. The person in the mirror is difficult to make out, their features are indistinguishable, only a human form is visible. Whoever they are, The Host feels their eyes on him, though he – and the others – cannot see them. They are being blocked out by more than dust, the mirror seems deeper than the pane of broken glass that comprises it. The person in the mirror radiates power, unlike Host’s, unlike Wilford’s, unlike Bim’s, unlike even Dark’s or Celine’s.”

“It’s gotta be the DA!” Bim cries. He pauses. “Unless it’s Actor. Oh shit, what if it’s Actor?”

“Old friend?” Wilford asks, having gotten up from the ground and approached the mirror again, “Is that you in there?” His gaze is far away.

“Wil, hold on a minute,” Bim frets.

“Whether it’s DA or Actor or someone else there,” Host says, “Wilford may be the best person to call them forward enough to be discernible.”

“But what if it is the Actor??”

“We knew that would be a possibility, did we not? We can’t go back now.”

Something in Host tells him not to be worried, even as Wilford lays a hand on the mirror, fingers spread across the cracks, making marks in the dust.

“Come out here,” Wilford murmurs, “It’s been so long, and…and there’s so much I want to say to you.”

Host whispers his narration so as not to distract Wilford. In his mind’s eye, he sees some fog clear away from within the mirror, and the figure comes closer.

“It is you,” Wilford says, shoulders drooping with relief, “Of course it’s you, who else would be in this mirror?”

“Why do they…” Bim squints, “Why…why do they look like that?”

Host furrows his brow, narrating louder as he concentrates.

“It is the DA in the mirror, now closer to the surface, fully visible as they are, but their presence provides no clarity. Their appearance shifts every second, features changing every moment. A few forms seem clearest, however. One is brown hair, long enough to brush at their ears and sweep across their forehead, brown eyes deep enough to drown in, and skin so white it’s almost gray. The other two forms are familiar to the group looking upon them. One resembles Amy Nelson, but younger, hair curled and dyed blonde instead of straight and dark brown. One resembles Ethan Nestor, again younger, hair swooped up and bright blue like it used to be years ago. Each form represents…represents the different parts that make up the DA. Amy and Ethan, in part, portrayed them in the videos that made them, but the DA is also a blank canvas, the audience insert. The DA is everyone, no one, themself. The DA stands in the mirror, mouth in a line. They must see the group in front of them, but they make no move, say no words.”

“Oh,” Bim murmurs, awed. “Wow.”

“Friend,” Wilford whispers, tears in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Host knows through his own whispers that the DA looks at Wilford, gaze piercing.

“It happened a lifetime ago,” says the DA – at least, they seem to; their mouth doesn’t open, their throat doesn’t move, but their voice is audible all the same. “My forgiveness must mean little. But you have it, William.” Their words are resonant and echoing, deep and high, sharp and soft, loud and quiet in equal measure, as varied as their face.

Wilford sniffles, laughs a little.

“That’s not my name anymore.”

“Of course, apologies. You’ve been Wilford longer than you’ve been William.”

“What about you?” Bim asks. “What’s your name? We’ve just been calling you the DA, but…”

“My name has been lost to time. I have none now.”

Host would expect a person to say something like that with great sadness, but the DA presents it as neutral fact, without emotion.

“We can’t just call you the DA,” Host muses, “That’s hardly a proper name to refer to a person with.”

“I remember their name!” Wilford insists. “They’re…they’re District Attorney…oh, it’s in there somewhere…”

“It isn’t,” the DA says, still matter-of-fact. “My name is gone. I may not have had one at all.”

That much could be true. The DA is an ego, after all, and if Mark didn’t give them a name and the fans couldn’t agree on one, then the DA has nothing but their title.

“What should we call them, then?” Bim asks. “Maybe Daniel? Or Danielle, it could be both at once.”

“That’s boring,” Wilford scoffs. “They deserve a name with more pizazz!”

“Dahlia?” Host offers.

“Maybe. But it’s so frilly, there’s not enough power in it.”

“Darcy?” Bim suggests.

“That’s more powerful, but still too frilly! It doesn’t suit them at all!”

“You said you wanted pizzazz!”

“Yes, but not fancy! The DA wasn’t prim and proper back in the day, a fancy name would be weird!”

Host notes with some amusement that DA, the subject of this discussion, is watching silently, with a slight look of bewilderment.

“Well, what ideas do you have?” Bim sniffs at Wilford.

“Maybe we can call themmmmm…” Wilford thinks. “Dana!” He exclaims. “Dana, there’s a good name. Short and simple but not boring, very handsome and/or beautiful.”

“Perhaps we should ask DA what they think?” Host says with a slight grin.

Bim and Wilford look at the DA expectantly. They are silent for another long moment before speaking.

“Dana is fine,” they say.

Host can practically feel Wilford’s triumphant grin, no narration needed.

“So, now what?” Bim asks no one in particular.

“Now we get them out of the mirror!” Wilford says.

“Hm,” Dana says. For once, their voice has emotion: a touch of discomfort.

“Do you wish to stay in the mirror?” Host asks.

“I’m not overly attached to this realm,” Dana explains, “But I do not wish to re-enter the surface. It has been too long, and there is nothing for me out there.”

“What!?” Wilford exclaims. “But there is! There’s a whole building full of egos for you to meet, and, well, we need you.”

“For what reason?”

“It’s a long story,” Wilford sighs, “But basically, an enemy of ours killed Darkiplier and took his aura. He’s killed a few of us with it, plus a whole bunch of other people, and he’s looking to kill us all. We need help to stop him, and we need help to reform Dark.”

Dana outright sneers at that, so vitriolic that Host’s voice wavers just a bit as he narrates it and Bim takes a step back.

“It is Dark’s fault that I have become this,” Dana says, voice low and angry. “Dark abandoned me here, when he had every opportunity to free me. I used to beg him to release me, to use his power to undo what he did and allow me to exist again. He rebuffed, he rebuked, he ignored.”

“But I thought you didn’t want to leave anymore?” Bim asks, confused.

“Just because I’m making that choice now doesn’t mean it should’ve been my only choice. At one time I would not have chosen this. But too much time has passed, Dark has taken too much. I will not return, and I will certainly not return for Dark.”

“But it’s not just about Dark!” Wilford insists, “There’s so many egos who’d love to meet you and who need your help, and I bet you’d get along great with them! And Damien and Celine are here right now, you’d get a chance to see them again!”

Dana straightens at that, but almost immediately deflates again.

“What is the point of seeing them again if they’re meant to become Dark again?” they mutter. “I have little affection for Celine as it is, but Damien…” They look away. “I cannot see him again, if he will be forced to leave so soon.”

Host doesn’t need any further narration to read into that tone, to understand Dana’s averted gaze. It’s love, Host can see it clearly.

“Even without the other egos you could meet, even ignoring the stuff with Dark,” Bim says, “Wouldn’t it be nice to leave the mirror? To exist out in the world?” Bim gestures out towards the door he and the others came in. “The weather’s so nice outside the manor, it’s nice back in Los Angeles where we live. Outside the mirror you can walk around, eat, play a video game or a sport, talk to someone, do something. If I were you I’d be bored out of my skull!”

“You are not me,” Dana says, voice cold. “I have no need of the outside. I do not wish to see how the world has moved on without me. I have no interest in anything offered there. I am not content, but I will never be. I will stay here, rather than expend effort to feel the same as always, or worse.”

No one seems to know what to say to that. Host’s narration tells him that Bim is awkward, staring at the ground and fidgeting, trying to think of something to say. Wilford is crestfallen, sad at meeting his old friend and having said friend want to stay put, where they can’t help the other egos. If no one says anything, Dana will retreat back into the mirror, and they will be unlikely to return if called.

Host steps forward, past Wilford and Bim, closer to the mirror.

“The Host does not understand how Dana feels,” Host begins. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to be trapped and stuck for a hundred years, he doesn’t know what it’s like to be so demoralized that freedom no longer feels like a cure.” Host breathes in. “But Host does know, very well, what it’s like to be changed. He understands how it feels to be subject to forces beyond one’s control, to be irrevocably damaged.” He can’t stop himself from adjusting the bandage around his eyes. “Host imagines that you were not always the person before us now. Host was also not always the man you see. Change of this sort is painful, horrible, unfair. Host understands this.”

Host pauses, in case Dana has anything to say. They remain silent, but Host can feel their eyes, knows they’re still there. He continues.

“The Host also knows how it feels to love as deeply as you appear to.” His breath hitches just slightly. “Host has not had a hundred years to love another person, but he has had two lifetimes, and he knows what it’s like to have a person be one’s world. He knows how it feels to lose that person. But…” Host ducks his head, wills himself not to sob. “But Host is here because he knows that this is what his love would want. He died trying to fix his mistake, the mistake that led to Dark being destroyed. He would’ve wanted Host to press on looking for solutions, and so, Host is here, pleading with you.” Host lifts his head again. He can feel blood streaming down his cheeks. “If where you end up matters so little, then Host asks you to picture what your love would want. Host asks you to decide if your love would want you to be this miserable, or if he would want you to have a chance to start over, to have happiness. And if that is too selfless for you, Host wonders if you could be convinced to leave the mirror to see your love again, even if only for a short time, even if it reopens the pain of loss when he goes.” Host smiles sadly. “If Host had to make that choice, he would choose it every time. He would give anything at all to see the man he loves again, even if not forever. He suspects that, somewhere deep within, you might feel the same.”

A long silence stretches. Host hardly dares to break the silence with narration, but he does, just the slightest breath of volume to know what Dana is doing. Their face is the most emotive it’s been so far, twisted in anguish. Their eyes are teary. The endless cycling of their form has stopped, and they have settled on the version that’s ghostly pale, the one that looks like themself, not like Amy or Ethan.

“Will I survive it?” Dana asks, a tear rolling down their cheek. “Will I survive losing him again?”

“Maybe not,” Host admits, blood still dripping down his own face. “But would that make it any less worth it?”

Dana purses their lips, trying not to sob. Tears continue falling, and Host’s whispered narrations pick up Wilford and Bim’s stares, equal parts amazement and concern. It takes a few moments for Dana to regain their composure, to finally raise their hand and wipe their tears away.

“Fine,” they say, voice wavering at first, then stronger word by word. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

“And you’ll help us?” Wilford asks, eyes big and pleading.

“I suppose.”

It’s good enough for Wilford, who breathes out a relieved chuckle.

“Awesome!” exclaims Bim, “But, uh…how do we get you out of the mirror?”

Dana steps forward, even closer to the mirror’s surface.

“Dark suggested it was a matter of pulling me out,” Dana explains, “With strength, but moreover with magic. There was…is a risk that disrupting this place could shatter it completely and set free more than just me.”

“We know,” Wilford sighs, “But we’re willing to take the risk if you are.”

It’s Dana’s last chance to back out, but they steel themself instead.

“I am,” they say.

Wilford and Bim walk up to the mirror, Host following behind, whispering narration all the while.

“Wilford and Bim each place a hand on the mirror, and they can feel Dana just beyond the glass, feel the churning of the mirror’s dimensional pocket, feel the power contained there. It is a null space, emptier even than Dark’s void, yet it thrums with its own life, like the floor of the deepest ocean.” Host can sense when Wilford and Bim start to use their magic, feel the increase of power in the air, smell the cotton candy of Wilford’s magic and the lavender of Bim’s. He raises his own hands and continues to narrate. “Host reaches out through the mirror, between the cracks, finding the curling black of the void space, and Dana standing just there, ready to leave it. Host’s own power feels around, searches for Dana’s answering hands. Behind and around are Wilford and Bim, Wilford pushing back the mirror dimension, Bim extricating Dana from its grip, little by little. Host assists Bim, the scent of ink and golden tendrils melding with purple, further reaching, offering something for Dana to grab onto.”

Host hears Dana gasp. Host can see through his power, see Dana there in the dark, see them find Host’s hands, find Wilford’s hand, Bim’s hand.

“The closer the three get, the more power they funnel, the more the space between the mirror and its dimension widens, the more space there is for Dana to come forward, the more fragile the mirror becomes. It is already cracked, but the cracks get wider, they splinter off into the previously-unbroken panes, threaded with pink and purple and gold. Wilford and Bim’s hands phase through the glass, they come out on the other side and reach something tangible. It is Dana, guided by Host’s power, bringing their hands together. Wilford has one, Bim has the other, Host is behind them both, and they all pull at once.”

It is Host’s power that allows him to see Wilford and Bim pull their hands from within the mirror, each holding one of Dana’s hands, pulling them through the mirror and out into the surface. As Dana leaves it, the mirror shatters. Glass rains around the trio, but they ignore it, and Host spares a sentence to prevent them from being harmed by the falling shards. Dana stumbles forward, unsteady on their feet, but with Wilford and Bim gripping their hands tight, they stay upright.

Out here, in the surface world, they don’t look quite so ghostly. Host’s whisper tells him that Dana’s skin is not as deathly pale now, their form continues to be stable, their hair is still soft brown and gently ruffled. But there are deep pockets under their eyes, and said eyes are so dark brown they’re almost black. They’re a bit shorter than Bim, and much shorter than Wilford. They look up and meet Host’s sightless gaze with awe.

“I’m out,” they gasp. Their voice still doesn’t come from their throat or their mouth, but it is no longer so imposing. It still slightly echoes, but the tone is even, gentle, slightly monotone even in awe.

“You are,” Wilford replies, his own voice soft.

Bim has already let go of Dana’s hand, but Wilford hasn’t. Host’s narration tells him that Wilford’s grip is gentle, friendly, but maybe a little protective, a little afraid to lose yet another piece of his past. Dana doesn’t seem to mind, though; maybe because of all that time they spent in the mirror without touch.

“Do you think…” Bim begins, looking back at the remains of the mirror.

“The Host can’t tell,” Host says, “This building is still magical, that has not changed. But that doesn’t mean anyone is still within.”

“You mean Actor, don’t you?” Dana says. “I can’t say I know, either.” They glower. “That’s why Dark never let me go.”

“A reasonable fear,” Host admits, “But we have no choice, now.” He smiles just a little. “How do you feel, now that you’re out?”

“I feel…” Dana puts a hand over their own chest, feeling the clothes on their skin, the temperature of the air. “Not exactly as I did before the mirror, but…much closer.”

“Is that good?” Wilford asks.

“I think so,” Dana answers. For the first time, they smile. It’s slight and subtle, but unmistakable, and Wilford beams to see it.

“Well then!” he exclaims, finally letting go of Dana’s hand only to smack their back, brisk. “Let’s get outta here!”

Wilford ushers Dana, expression slightly alarmed from the smack, out the door, as Bim and Host follow.

Host has just left the steps of the manor’s porch and began to feel the sun on him again when his cell phone rings from his pocket.

“Call from, Yandere,” the phone chirps, and Host freezes.

This can only mean one thing: On the other end of the line, right now, the love of Host’s life is either waking up or disappearing forever. Yet Host can hardly bring himself to answer, because what if Dr. Iplier is dying? What if Host is about to lose him?

Host’s breath is caught in his throat, so he has no idea if Wilford or Dana can hear his phone ringing. But Bim is right next to him, and he’s just as still as Host. Host feels Bim’s hand squeeze his shoulder, sympathetic. Bim, too, is familiar with that endless wait, the paranoia of wondering whether or not he’s going to lose his person. It ended well for him, Oliver woke up. But will Dr. Iplier?

“You gotta answer,” Bim murmurs, voice uncharacteristically even and solemn. And he’s right, Host can’t let it ring forever. He can’t let it go to voicemail. It’s too important to ignore.

His hand still shakes as he removes the phone from his pocket and tells it to answer the call.

“Yandere?” he asks, and he could cringe at how small and scared his voice sounds if he wasn’t too anxious to care.

“K-Katarite-san,” Yandere says – no, sobs. He’s crying on the other end, so hard he can barely talk. But he is, like he promised he would. The tears make Host’s heart rocket faster. Yandere cries so easily, his tears could mean anything, but Host fears the worst.

“Yandere, please,” Host gasps. A trail of blood comes down his cheek, he can feel the new wetness cut through the drying tears from earlier. There’s so much to say, and nothing at all. “Please.”

“Shishi, he’s…” Yandere gasps, trying to catch his breath. Host stiffens all over. “…he’s awake, Katarite-san, h-he just woke up. He’s okay.”

Host could collapse. He almost does; body doubling over. Something inside him breaks open, filling his chest with warm, spiky pain. After all the sleepless nights, all the tears, all the whispered bargains and begging, Host had feared it would never lead to this. He had felt so desperately that leaving Dr. Iplier to come to the manor would be the last he ever saw of him, the last time he touched him. He has never been more glad to be wrong. His chest still hurts, hurts with emotion bursting out, breaking up the numbness that’s been lurking there for so long. Host can hardly breathe, his throat is closed over with sobs. He can’t even begin to narrate to orient himself against the tide of feeling, so it washes over him, and he is pulled under. It hurts more than anything. It’s unbearable. Host has never been happier in his life.

“Host!?” Bim asks from beside him, alarmed. He takes Host’s arm, the one not holding his phone, making sure he doesn’t fall. Host can’t blame him for worrying; his tears are coming out in full force, sobs are falling out of him without control.

Dr. Iplier is awake. He’s awake. He’s alive. God, Dr. Iplier is alive. And now, finally, so is Host.

“I’ll l-let you go,” Yandere says, sniffling, but Host can hear the smile in his voice. “We’ll be h-here when you get back. See you.” True to his word, Yandere hangs up then.

“Host, is Doc…?” Bim asks Host, voice frayed with nerves. In response, Host laughs. It’s quiet and choked, but unmistakably mirthful.

“He’s alive,” he gasps, “Yandere said he’s alive.”

Bim sighs in relief. Host keeps weeping. He’s not sure he’ll ever stop. The sun on him feels warmer than before, the ground beneath him softer, the air smells sweeter, the chirping birds in the woods sound more pleasant. The world is better, now that Dr. Iplier is in it again.

“Hey, what’s going on??” Wilford exclaims, followed by his footsteps running closer. He must’ve finally noticed Host’s tears.

“Yandere called,” Bim explains on Host’s behalf, voice giddy, “Doc is awake!”

“Bully!” Wilford practically shouts, so joyful he doesn’t care to moderate volume. “You gonna be alright there, friend?” he asks Host, voice a bit more gentle.

“The H-Host has never been better,” Host says, laughing a little yet again, wiping blood off his face with both hands. “He would like us to go back to Ego Inc. now, since we have found Dana as we desired.”

“True,” Wilford says. “Let’s go now!”

“How are we getting there from here?” Dana asks, possibly attracted into the conversation by their name. “There don’t seem to be any roads.”

“We don’t need roads,” Wilford replies, in a tone that Host knows is paired with a cheeky wink even without narration. “I can teleport!”

“Maybe brace yourself,” Bim warns, “He teleports through his void, and Wilford’s void isn’t anything like the mirror dimension.”

“I see,” Dana answers, a note of curiosity in their tone.

Host has never been excited to teleport with Wilford; his void is disorienting even for the sighted egos, and it’s much worse for Host. But now, there’s nothing more he wants to do than go through that void and go home.

Home to his doctor, at last.

#markiplier the host #wilford warfstache #fanfic #my writing #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier #unravel #kristin says stuff #i love this chapter aksjhsdk

8 notes · View notes

chaotic-vibes-only-please · 2 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could make a cody (x virus), homicidal liu (Sully and Liu) walking in on their s/o masturbating on their bed? Also i love all the work you put into the characters and the details!😊

X-Virus, Liu, and Sully Finding Their S/O Masturbating in Their Beds

A/N: Yes I can! And so the series continues! Thank you for the kind words! Please enjoy🍵😌 I also apologize for any misspelled things, I'm horrible at spelling😔

Warnings: NSFW, MDI, masturbastion, Sexual themes, implied Dom/Sub, exhibition, slight voyeurism, Afab reader

Homicidal Liu

Liu, your sweet loving boyfriend Liu whose gone on a mission long from home. He's been away for two weeks! And you've become impatient. There were three more days until he'd get back.

You missed him so much that you climbed into his bed during the night. It started out innocent, until you started thinking of all the things he'd do to you once he got home. You slid a hand down the waistband of your panties and spread your legs wide open.

Little did you know, he had planned on surprising you that very hour because he had finished his job early. When he gets home and doesn't see you on the couch or in the kitchen, Liu assumes you went to bed and goes to put his luggage away.

Imagine his shock to see you spread out, tangled in his sheets, one of his large T-shirts ridden up your torso to expose the way you have your fingers buried in your cunt while slick is staining your inner thighs. You're so desperate you don't even stop moving your fingers as he watches you with a hypnotized stare.

"Did my poor baby miss me this much? Look at how needy you are" Liu coo's from the doorway, gently placing his things down in the hall. "I'm sorry for neglecting you sweetheart, would you like some help?" He smiles, not in a gentle way, but more of a condescending smirk.

You would nod your head with a whimper and reach out for him. Liu melts at the sight, light blush coating his cheeks. He unravels his scarf from his neck and throws it to the side while walking towards your quivering form.

He crawls in between your legs, running his smooth hands up your thighs and keeping them pried open. Liu presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh and grins. "I'll take care of you princess. Get comfortable because you're not leaving this bed until I say so"

He uses his tongue and fingers to make you cum over and over again, drinking up everything you'd have to offer. Liu's been away for so long and he hasn't had time to give you what you needed. Now he'll make up for it.

After he overstimulates you until you're all dumb and cute without a single thought in your head that doesn't have to do with wanting his cock buried deep in your pussy, then he'll finally give you what you've really been craving.

Sully

Sully had only gone to the gas station down the block to grab some snacks. What? He gets hungry. You were supposed to be at home doing some spring cleaning. But, when he steps through the front door there’s no sign of you.

He starts poking his head around rooms in your home to see where you’ve gone, only to hear the faintest moan from his room. Sully instantly recognizes the sound. He licks his lips as he makes out another little groan from the hallway. Sully peaks inside, to see you, his slut, playing with yourself while having your skirt bunched around your waist and panties slid down your thighs.

“I thought we had one rule princess” The way he glares at you as he marches straight inside and towards the bed has you pausing your fingers from stuffing yourself full. Oh how wonderful this is for him. He has a great excuse to punish you.

“I-I- didn’t think you’d be home so so-” You stutter while pulling your hand away from your cunt. It doesn’t make the situation any better as he sneers at the sight. You truly thought he would’ve taken longer. You had just placed new fresh sheets down on the bed, but felt needy and he wasn’t home!

“What did I tell you? This-” Sully pauses to place a loud smack against your folds, causing you to squeak and try to close your legs. “Belongs to me, end of discussion” He reminds you by running a finger up your slit, coating it in your cum.

“I-I’m sorry Sully” You gasp and fist the sheets in response. Sully only commands you to “Open”, to which you part your lips and suck on the finger he’d hovered near your mouth to taste yourself. He can’t wait to wreck you.

“No you aren’t, you’ve been a brat” He chuckles at the fear and excitement on your face. You shiver delightfully at his words. His hands trace your arms before pinning your wrists above your head. “I’m going to fuck this lesson into you brain until you’ll never forget it” He whispers into your ear, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

And lets just say he does as promised. ;)

X-Virus/Cody

Cody had just finished up paper work in the lab and was coming upstairs to de-stress. He was extremely exhausted and ready for a small nap. That was until he opens the door to your shared bedroom. His emerald green eyes widen at your trembling form, thighs wrapped around a pillow and your hips humping against it.

"Oh...woah" He chokes out with a struggle. Your expression shows your eagerness to cum. Cody only stands there and watches, mesmerized by the way you try to get off. His pants grow way too tight.

"Cody please" You whine, noticing him right away, panties already discarded on the floor and tank top ridden above your breasts. Cody's cheeks are on fire. Damn you're hot when you're desperate. Most importantly, you're desperate for only him.

"You couldn't have waited for me?" He fake pouts while shrugging off his lab coat, letting it fall off of him. Cody palms himself through his jeans as you continue to whimper and squirm around on the bed. You shake your head no. Cody chuckles and starts to unbuckle his belt.

"Y-you were taking too long, c-couldn’t interrupt you at work" Your bottom lip trembles in a way that makes him want to see what your mouth would look like wrapped around his cock. Cody groans before joining you on his bed.

"Such a sweet little thing you are" He grins and trails his hand down to the pillow, pulling it from between your legs to expose your bare and dripping cunt. You spread your legs to him without shame. "You wouldn't mind if we skipped the foreplay, right?" He suggests while unzipping his pants and taking himself out, rubbing his already fully hard shaft.

"I want you inside me now" You huff, your lower regions losing the sense of a built up orgasm the more he waits. Cody takes his sweet time before thrusting straight into your sopping hole.

Good luck, because you've become Cody's stress relief for the rest of the day so until he feels fully relaxed, you'll be used to his hearts content

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #homicidal liu x reader #sully x reader #sully #homicidal liu #x virus #x virus x reader #smut

760 notes · View notes

itsstrawberrymochi · 2 years

Text

Random kissing hcs with the tr characters

Characters: Mikey, Mitsuya,Inui, Wakasa, Rindou, Ran, Izana, Sanzu and Hanma

Prompt: Honestly Idk what the prompt is just different scenarios of your tr s/o kissing you

Warnings: suggestive in some of these

And as always say sorry for any grammatical errors:)

- Manjiro is an extremely clingy person and latches onto you like some kind of parasitic leech anytime he gets, so it’s no surprise that Mikey currently has you pinned down on his living room’s couch

- He’s sitting on top of you, straddling your hips with his legs and he’s using both of his hands to pin yours above your head, you squirm to try and get him off but it’s to no avail

- Mikey is childish with a lot of things and it’s the same when it comes to him kissing you

- While you’re under him he would occasionally lean in and place small quick peck on your lips, cheeks and forehead and finally rubbing your nose with his like two bunnies in love, every time he leans down his long blond hair tickles yours cheeks and you try your best to hold in your laughter

- Despite being in this position for a good ten minutes Manjiro has yet to give you a proper kiss, the kisses he was giving you at the moment were quick, and feather-like, too light and soft to actually feel anything

- Just as he had been doing for the past ten minute the blond leans in to kiss you for a few seconds but right when it was getting good he pulls away yet again

- Starting to feel slightly annoyed at his antics you decide enough was enough, with a bit of force you freed one of your trapped hands and grabbed the back of his head, pushing it towards, you smashing your lips together once more

- The kiss lasted a lot more longer than all the other ones he had been giving you combined

- You still had your hand at the back of his head to keep him from pulling away, Mikey could have pushed you away with ease he was much stronger than you but he didn’t, he didn’t want to anyways

- Finally you two pulled away gasping for air

- Mikey looks down you a bit shocked at your bold and sudden action

- A teasing smirk came across your face, you decided to take this moment to your advantage and poke fun the very hard to surprise Mikey

“That one was a lot more better now wasn’t it?”

- Mikey rolled his eyes and groaned burying his face in your neck and jokingly mumbling how annoying you are

Mitsuya

- Mitsuya loves to kiss you while he’s measuring you

- Mitsuya for sure already knows your measurements but why wouldn’t he? You are his favorite model

- It may sound creepy to others but he knows your measurements by heart and if he somehow forgot them he also has them written down and pinned on the board where he puts his latest fashion sketches

- But despite already having them in his head and a backup Mitsuya still rather retake your measurements every time he feels like making you something new

- Something about being that close to you makes him feel soft

- It’s 00:00 on Sunday night, his shop had closed hours ago

- You two are in his back office and he he has a measuring tape wrapped around your mid section

- His glasses are at the bridge of his nose and he has a pen being held in between his lips, his lilac eyes are fixed on the numbers of the measuring tape eyeing it closely, making sure it’s accurate

- He doesn’t miss the way you keep staring at him and the way your lips slightly twitch in a smile everytime his hands grazes your body but he doesn’t call you out on it or anything he finds it cute and doesn’t want to make you feel embarrassed by saying something

- Taking the pen from his lips he writes down the final measurements in the open book near him

- Since you two are now done you expect him to let go and unravel the measurement tape but he doesn’t

- Instead he uses it to his advantage and with a bit of strength he tugs on it which pulls you closer to him

- It causes your chest to be pressed up against his, his lips are merely inches away from your temple, so he kisses it

- He’s still holding you close by the measuring tape not wanting you to go anywhere ( but if we’re being honest you wouldn’t have if he did) he rests his forehead on yours telling you how beautiful you’ll look in the new outfit he’s been working on particulary for you

Sanzu

- The pink haired man currently has you standing in between his legs as he sits comfortably on his office chair

- His arms are lazily wrapped around your waist

- And his feet are crossed at the ankles so he can “ trap” you

- He loves it when you gently cradle his face with your hands and call him your pretty boy

- He has his pretty blue eyes closed which shows his beautiful long white eye lashes, he hums in amusement as you continue to shower him in praises

- He suddenly grabs your hand that was cradling his face and bite it before placing a soft kiss to soothe the pain, he puts it back on his face so you can cradle it once more

Inui

- Inui is like an angel that came to earth

- In your opinion and probably everyone else’s everything about him is absolutely perfect

- His soft strawberry blond hair, his pale skin, his emerald eyes, even with the burn mark that rests above his left eye he still looks flawless

- You have a tendency to randomly stare at him but how could you not, when he looked that beautiful?

- Standing in the bedroom of his apartment you stared in awe as you watched your boyfriend in the bathroom

- He was infront the bathroom mirror fixing his tie, you two were getting ready for a date and he wanted to look perfect for you ( not like he needed to put much effort )

- You don’t know how he could make something so simple look go beautiful

- He noticed your gazing through the bathroom mirror, he’s not creeped out by it in the slightest he’s very much so use to this behavior from you if it was anyone else staring at him doing a mundane thing then yes he’d feel uncomfortable

- After the tie was fixed he walks out of the bathroom and over to you

- Now standing in front of you he gently cups your face grazing a thumb over your bottom lip and gives you a soft smile that makes you melt every time

- Inui is a sweet boyfriend but he’s also a tease, so he’ll hover over your lips for a few seconds before kissing you

- He finds his way to your hips and pulls you closer against him to deepen the kiss

Hanma

- You two are lounging around in a private room of one of the clubs he owns

- The only other people in the room aside from you and Hanma are his guards who are keeping watch in front of the door and two business men who are sitting in front you two waiting for Hanma to say something, anything about the offer they just proposed but Hanma seems to be pretty busy at the moment

- Hanma has you sitting comfortably in between his legs, he has his arms wrapped around you and his hands are slightly squeezing your thighs

- Your head is resting on his chest and you can’t help but close your eyes at how comfortable you are

- Hanma finds himself at the crook of your neck inhaling your scent, he’s obsessed with the way your perfume/ body wash smells

- He begins to place long slow kisses on your neck and slowly makes his way down to your shoulder

- When he finally reaches you shoulders he places a much more longer kiss then takes a bite of the soft skin instantly leaving a mark but you were use to him doing things like this so you didn’t react

- The men who are still in front of you two are starting to grow uncomfortable, they aren’t sure if they should look or look away, they’re practically convinced that Hanma had forgotten all about them and his primary focus was you

Izana

- He’s not much of a kisser, physically affection just isn’t his thing, so when he does kiss you it’s rare and it really means something

- He likes to use his kisses to make promises to you instead of the usual pinky promise

- Being the leader of a gang is no easy feat and there would be multiple occasions where he had to chose his gang over you, Izana never liked this but if he wanted Tenjiku to be successful he had to

- and when you started to date Izana you already knew things like this would happen sometimes you were fine with this other times not so much

- And this was one of those moments where you weren’t fine with him canceling yet another one of your dates

- He had been so fixated in his plan on bringing down Toman and destroying Mikey he had completely forgot he promised you a date

- So here you are sitting in the edge of your bed with a frown on your face, you already had gotten dressed and put on you outfit so it just hurt more that you had to change out of it

- Izana tried to explain that this was the only the day he could bring Mikey down but you half heartedly listened, chewing on your bottom lip to stop the water works from coming out

- Izana stoped talking once he took notice of your distress

- You didn’t mean to show your emotions that easily, you felt kind of guilty for doing so because now you’ll make Izana feel guilty for having to cancel

- You give him a bright smile and told him it was ok but Izana wasn’t going to fall for that

- He walks over to at your spot of the edge of the bed he crouches on the floor in front of you and takes your hand in his, he places a soft kiss at the back of it

- Rubbing small circles with his thumb at the back of your hand he promises you once Toman is gone he’s all yours and you and him will rule Tokyo soon after Japan, you smile at his words feeling comfort

- He stands up and goes in for a kiss on your lips, unlike his other kisses this kiss is passionate and rough, your body begins to move back involuntarily at the roughness of it, he allows you to go back and keeps pushing the kiss until you’re lying flat on the bed, he climbs on top of you placing only half his weight on you and continues to hungrily kiss you

- The way he kissed you was as if it was going to his last kiss to you

Wakasa

- Like him his kisses are lazy and nonchalant

- You don’t know why but he has a tendency of kissing you when you’re in random places

- Letting out a tired sigh you slowly placed the weights back on its racks

- You were on bed weight lifter at your boyfriend’s gym trying to get a quick work out in

- You were exhausted and decided to just lay there for a while before getting up

- You know it’s apart of gym etiquette to move when you’re done with the equipment but the gym wasn’t open yet and no one was around

- One of the many perks of having a gym owner boyfriend

- So with that you laid there and closed your eyes for a few minutes to try and catch your breath

- “That’s my little little hulk”

- You opened your eyes to see Wakasa hovering above your head his lazy eyes met with yours

- “ A little hulk that’s gonna beat your ass if you call me that again” you frown

- He only laughs at your aggressive response at the nickname

- As an “ apology” he bends down and placed a kiss on your forehead he stayed there for a few minutes with his eyes closed before moving away and busying himself with something else at his gym

Rindou

- When it comes to Rindou he’s private with a lot of things

- He always wants to keep every thing down to the smallest detail a secret

- Rindou hates it when people are in his business when they have no right to be

- So that’s why you two are hidden away in his black ferrari laFerrari in the parking lot of a club

- He’s sitting in the driver’s seat and you’re sitting on his lap facing him, you two hungrily kiss each other fighting for dominance, it was as if you two had been apart for months and that certainly was not true

- His long slender fingers are rubbing along the length of your legs as you comb through his purple dyed hair

- You two should be inside right now it was Kokonoi’s birthday so you should be celebrating, but no Rindou started to grow bored and wanted to hold you and kiss you to chase away the boredom yes he could have done that right inside the club but as said before rindou likes to keep secrets especially the way he displayed his affection towards you

- You didn’t mind him taking you away from the party, like him with you, you could never get enough of him and you much rather be alone in his presence than the party besides Koko will have plenty other birthdays so it’s ok if you miss just this one

Ran

- Uses his height to his advantage

- Would come up behind you and wrap his long arms around your waist pulling you to rest your back against his chest

- Likes to especially do this if your busy doing something like cooking

- With your back now pressed against his chest he bends down and nibble on your ear, the feeling sending shivers down your spine

- Timbres? Shivered

- He stops and tells you to look up at him and when you do with no warnings he leans down to kiss you, like to rock you two back and forth as he kisses you

- Also likes to occasionally pull from the kiss to remind you how much he loves you

813 notes · View notes