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em-mermaid · 3 months

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Gem wakes up during Secret Life and discovers something has changed (aka 1296 words of Gem/Pearl for @mcyt-yuri-week)

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The first thing Gem hears are muffled voices outside. They seem to be angry about something, or perhaps distressed? She definitely knows they are louder than normal. She groans at the noise, but it brings her closer to consciousness, curiosity poking its way through the haze of sleep.

When she opens her eyes, the world spins and her head throbs. Everything is too bright, too much, and she’s quick to squeeze her eyes closed again, desperate for the feeling to go away.

She waits and ever so slowly, the voices fade back in as the overwhelm of feelings fades out.

“Impulse, you let me in right now or I’ll make you regret it.” There is a seriousness behind the threat that makes Gem sure that whatever is happening is far more important than she can comprehend right now.

“C’mon Pearl,” he placates, and Gem can imagine his hands held up in near surrender. “Give her a few more minutes, she’s not even awake yet!”

Are they talking about her? What would be so important that Pearl would threaten Impulse of all people. They were getting along earlier, weren’t they?

Earlier.

Flashes of memories finally surface to her conscious mind. The Game. The cherry forest where she built a home with her Scotts. Her tasks and a trip to the nether.

An angry enderman.

The end portal.

She’s a yellow in the death Game because They had instructed her to open up the end portal. And now her friends are arguing outside her house.

Surely, this will be fine. She takes a breath and slowly opens her eyes. The world spins again in a burst of too bright color. The pink of her walls is near blinding and it swirls into the mahogany of her ceiling. It hurts. It’s almost too much, but she squints, determined to hold out until the colors stop melding together.

Pearl’s voice sounds distant now, beyond the intensity of the light. “If you don’t let me past in the next five seconds—”

“Ok fine, you can go in!” Impulse finally agrees, panic lacing his words. “But, before you do, you should really know—”

The door opens. It’s a quiet action, calm after all the arguing, but with it comes the sunlight. The greens of the grass and blue of a sword mixing with the ever growing cacophony of color. It’s too much.

She shuts her eyes again with a wince, an action Pearl seems to notice immediately.

“Gem?” She asks, urgent and confused. Why is Pearl confused? The door closes and there is a clatter of a sword, hastily set aside as Pearl rushes towards the bed. The mattress dips as she sits near her stomach. “Gem, are you alright? What happened?”

“‘s bright,” she manages to mumble before the headache spikes with the effort of the words. Pearl says something in acknowledgement and moves away, but Gem’s focus has already wandered towards taking stock of her body.

Her mouth is dry. Dry in a way she’s sure she has never experienced. It’s horrible the way her throat catches when she tries to swallow, but for some reason the thought of drinking water is incredibly unappealing. She licks her lips in an attempt to bring some moisture back. It doesn’t work.

The next thing she notices is that her body feels heavy, sluggish. One of her arms has gone numb, probably due to the way she was sleeping.

Pearl’s weight returns to the edge of the mattress and Gem groans, wrapping towards the warmth. There’s a small chuckle as Pearl begins tracing soothing circles along her not-numb arm. “Gem, you want to try and open your eyes again? I blocked off all the windows.”

This time she steadies herself, trying to mentally prepare for the spinning. She knows it might not work, but at least Pearl is here, grounding her with a gentle touch.

She opens her eyes.

Darkness, blacks and grays spiral in with the orange of a single torch. Faded denim pants and a familiar black sweater slowly take shape and lead her eyes upward towards Pearl’s face, her too-yellow eyes shining like beacons in the dark.

This time, though, it’s not too much.

Slowly, the overwhelm dims into the shadows, clearing her vision enough for Pearl’s expression to take shape. Her brows are pinched together in concern, lips pursed as her eyes flick back and forth, seemingly taking in the details of Gem’s face.

When their eyes finally meet, Pearl’s mouth twists into a hesitant, concerned smile. “There you are,” she sighs, and it sounds far too close to one of relief.

Gem wants to reach out, wants to soothe the lines from her forehead, wants to hold Pearl’s cheek and tell her that whatever is causing this stress can be solved, but she finds that her body is still too heavy from sleep to do so. Plus, whatever is worrying Pearl must be about her.

Sure, it’s not out of the ordinary for Pearl to fret over her when she’s not feeling well, but usually it looks like a bowl of soup and a silly story to keep her entertained while being stuck in bed. This though, this feels different. There is no silly glint in Pearl’s eyes, no teasing about how her hair looks like a bird's nest or how Pearl is awake before her for once. There is only an echo of an argument and urgency and a gentle hand on her arm.

So, she opens her still dry mouth and croaks out the only question she can put into words. “What’s wrong?”

Pearl lets out a hollow laugh and Gem can see the way it smooths down a small edge of her worry. “What do you mean, what’s wrong? I should be the one asking you that.”

“I’m just sick, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Just sick? Gem you were asleep for nearly a full day! I had no idea until Impulse messaged the entire chat!” Pearl exclaims, her eyes trail towards the left side of Gem’s face. “And now…”

“An entire day?”

“How does your arm feel?”

“Pearl, what?”

“Please, just trust me for a moment.” Pearl’s eyes are searching as she leans in to brush some hair from Gem’s face before cradling her cheek. The soothing circles return in the form of a thumb tracing along her cheekbone. “How does your left arm feel?”

“It’s…” She hesitates. There is a pulsing sort of pressure that runs down from her shoulder to her fingertips. It’s an odd sensation, not quite the usual feeling of sleeping wrong against a limb. She tries to wiggle her fingers to no avail. “…numb. How did you know?”

“Try not to panic, okay?”

“Panic?” Gem questions, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Why would I panic?”

Pearl only gestures for her to look.

Gem tilts her head, finally looking towards her arm. It’s still dark in the room and her arm blends into the shadows. Flicks of blues and purples dance across her skin and it’s only when she sees it contrasted next to Pearl’s pale hand that she realizes, it’s not just the shadows.

Her arm is as black as the void.

A strangled sort of shout breaks free from her lips and she tries to scramble up, away from a sight so unfamiliar. Her body is still heavy, but she manages to sit up enough to get a good look at the arm laying limp beside her.

The arm, no matter how unfamiliar, is still undeniably her own. It is the same size as her arm used to be, same short fingers, attached to the same shoulder.

It has to be a dream. Or maybe it’s a cruel prank. Why would her arm look like the void?

#gempearl #mcytyuriweekvalentines #trafficshipping #body horror #nothing too descriptive but just to be safe #it's about her yellow life skin #this is part of a larger story that i might never finish #but i have so many thoughts about the secret life women and how they relate to the end #i would love to ramble about if if anyone is interested #mermaid writes #trafficfic

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teeth--king · 2 months

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Man. Been dreaming and day dreaming about the ability to be loved and to be able to be love back, ah, fantasy. But to get that energy out, have this messy colored sketch of Jasper and Elliot :D, love drawing my guys cozy.

#art #oc #c: jasper #c: elliot #they go through so many horrors in their story. but for now they are comfy

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shubaka · 6 months

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Q: Talking about darkness, what makes you fascinated by darkness?

A: I wouldn't say I'm fascinated by darkness, but I feel that darkness pulls me in, draws me in. Since I was a kid, I've been into horror comics a lot. I remember the first comic series my mom bought for me was called School Ghost Stories. I don't know if it's still available. It had about 12-13 volumes, I can't remember. It was a collection of short horror stories, somewhat similar to Junji Ito's works. It was something that always left a strong impression on me every time I read it. After finishing it, I would look for more horror stories to read, a lot of different ones.

My mom liked them too; she would buy them, and some were really terrifying (laughs). About witches or named "Survival," or something like that. So, I started getting into reading horror comics. Every time I went for karaoke, every Sunday, I would buy several comics and read them at home. Four volumes every Sunday.

Eventually, it became like I was addicted to the vibe of darkness. This complexity and profoundness it's within us without me being aware of it. Then it comes out in my musical works and performances all the time, without being aware. I feel like it's just me. It's something I consume, and then it becomes a part of me. (x)

#OKAY JEFF #ok but honestly his mom getting him into horror stories. some wholesome mother-son bonding over horror. :')#also it's no wonder he watched hannibal so many times a;lksdjf;akwjefas #jeff satur

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kaiscumsock · 1 year

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evan peters in his slam duck shirt got me feeling things

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silvermoon424 · 1 year

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what's the most important piece of advice you could give someone who's getting into downloading media (piracy, archiving, whatever)?

For the love of God, MAKE BACKUPS. I had to learn this lesson the hard way as a teenager when my external hard drive crashed and I couldn't pay the data recovery fee (which would have been a few hundred dollars, if it even worked).

Have backups. Have backups of your backups. To give you an idea of what my data and backup setup is:

My laptop: two backups (physical backup via external hard drive and automatic cloud backup via BackBlaze)

My media collection: three sources/backups (two external hard drives and a NAS [network attached storage system] with a failsafe measure because it has two hard drives; I will most likely look into cloud-based backup as well).

If you've noticed, I not only have a backup of all my data, I also have backups of backups. When it comes to your precious data, you seriously can't be too careful. I would recommend at least investing in one physical backup option as well as a cloud-based one (like BackBlaze).

#like seriously I've heard so many horror stories of people losing so much precious data because they never made a backup #IF SOMETHING IS IMPORTANT TO YOU MAKE SURE YOU HAVE MULTIPLE COPIES OF IT!!!#data management #media preservation #advice #technology

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ilovemesomevincentprice · 4 months

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Vincent Price as Clifford Pyncheon

House of the Seven Gables (1940) dir. Joe May

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imtrashraccoon · 13 days

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here’s a drabble idea!

Nightmare sans x dog monster! reader

so the premise is that the dear reader is a dog like doggo, greater dog, lesser dog, etc

and if we want to get REAL specific the dog breed reader is a konoki dog!

Hi! Thank you for submitting this idea!

I was shocked how quickly I managed to think of something for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I made it a fantasy and soulmate au. I actually haven't written this sort of thing before and I am still buzzing with ideas.

I never heard of a Konoki dog before this and they look super cute! I haven't written this type of character before so I hope you like them. I certainly have fallen in love with them! (I affectionately call them Koko in my notes!)

By the way, I renamed Nightmare (and a few others!) for this to make him a more unique character. There's a note at the bottom for the meanings of their names too.

The Dark Fortress

Nightmare x Kokoni!Dog Monster Reader

Fantasy & Soulmate AU

Word Count: 6, 219

You woke up to the sound of rain softly pattering on your tent. The light was rather dim so you estimated the sun wasn't up just yet. Still, it couldn't hurt to get up and do some quick exercises before your day properly started.

The rain made the air smell good - slightly earthy with a hint of the harsher scent of ozone. The only bad thing was that you didn't like having wet fur, especially when on a mission, since it stuck to your armour and meant your weapon was harder to hang onto.

The scent in the air reminded you of a reoccurring dream that you'd been having your whole life. While the circumstances were different each time, there was always a distinctive smell present. It was earthy and sweet with aromatic undertones similar to liquorice or fennel. It was also slightly spicy or maybe salty was a better description? This smell seemed to belong to someone but you'd never been able to see what they looked like.

Not everyone believed in the concept of soulmates but you couldn't find any other explanation for why you kept dreaming about this one smell. There were instances where a few dogs had been plagued by a particular smell and then ended up finding their soulmate, but this was always in real life and never only in a dream.

With a sigh, you meticulously fastened the straps and buckles that held your armour together. While many of your fellow soldiers preferred full plate, you liked the mobility that light armour provided. This combined with your smaller size and slight frame made you the perfect scout or assassin for the Royal Guard.

You didn't have time this morning to contemplate the possibility of meeting your soulmate. You had a duty to perform and any distractions could put the lives of both you and your comrades in danger.

Your mission was to investigate the dark fortress that had appeared overnight a few months ago in the neighboring Kingdom of Shiftingtails. The kingdom's forces had apparently been completely overrun and destroyed in a matter of days. Word on the conditions inside the country had been scarce but the handful of refugees that had made it out all told harrowing tales of their escape.

Whatever magic that had created the fortress was dangerous. It corrupted the land, killing both plants and animals alike, so that nothing could survive. It was said that it could kill people as well but no one knew exactly how. There were also accounts of the dark horde and their master but no one could decide on what they looked like.

Some claimed that an army of the dead suddenly came to life and raided their homes. Others claimed there were only three skeletons responsible for the destruction. Yet there were other accounts of a single skeleton covered in the dark fortress' corruption with black tendrils. No one wanted to talk about this one any more than they had to though.

You hadn't known what to make of the accounts at first, but the deeper you and your comrades pressed into enemy territory, the more truth they seemed to hold. Thankfully, the Royal Scientist had found a way to counteract the majority of the corruption's effects, so as long as the protective coating on your armour remained intact, you would be safe.

It didn't ease your anxiety though and you knew that your comrades were also suffering from restlessness. It had been days since you had even been in combat, even longer since killing anything, and you just wanted to get this over with.

You weren't particularly bloodthirsty but even you had to admit that you secretly enjoyed the rush that came whenever a person died by your hand. It wasn't something that you went out of your way to do, even though being a soldier often put you in those situations. Everyone knew that while sometimes unavoidable, gaining EXP and especially LV, was a slippery slope to insanity. And so during basic training, it was stressed that it was preferable to incapacitate your foes and only kill as a last resort.

You emerged from your tent and stretched your limbs. It seemed like a few of your fellow soldiers were already up and about, which meant another day of marching was upon you. At least you were within sight of the dark fortress now. It wouldn't be long before you would be able to hear the satisfying sound of your meteor hammer crushing bones and inhale the scent of fresh blood again.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Breaching the gate had been difficult but not impossible.

There had been a small horde of tall black skeletons but against the heavily armoured likes of your fellow guardsmen, they were soon cut down. While the skeletons had also been heavily armoured and wielded greataxes, a well placed blow was pretty much all it took to fell them. Even you managed to take one down, although its body didn't turn to dust and simply faded away, and you didn't even get any EXP from it.

That was strange but not unusual if they were merely summons and not actual monsters. Still, whoever summoned them must have an immense mana pool, especially if they were also the one who'd created the dark fortress in the first place.

The moment you and your fellow soldiers entered the courtyard, you were suddenly set upon by three assailants. They were fast, and with how easily they could dodge attacks or appear behind you, must have some form of instant teleportation ability.

You were forced to fight back to back with Sir Draco, which meant your ranged attacks were less effective since you had to be mindful of your meteor hammer's arc. Your own mana was limited so you were forced to fend off blows with your trusty dagger, which you normally only used for finishing off your enemies.

The three skeletons looked similar, like they could be cousins, but at the same time they were quite different from each other. They were on a whole other level from the dark hordes earlier and you were starting to worry that this could soon turn hairy.

Greater and Lesser Dog were currently taking on a giant of skeleton who had half his skull caved in, a blood red eyelight in his left socket, and wielded a massive, wicked-looking greataxe. He wore a suit of mismatched armour of various materials and styles that had been pieced together seemingly at random. It looked to be mostly plate and hide armour though.

Captain Undyne and Sir Bunbun were holding off a wiry skeleton, who had what looked like corruption pouring out of his eye sockets, a crimson glowing target floating above his chest, and wielded nothing but a cruel dagger as well as his own magic against them. He wore a form-fitting suit of black leather armour that was reminiscent of what the former Shiftingtails Kingdom's scouts used to wear.

You and Sir Draco were focusing on a shorter skeleton who was constantly switching between bone attacks and trying to stab both of you with a well-polished shortsword. He had red eyelights but the left one also had a ring of blue and he wore a red cuirass with a hood and dusty chainmail over top.

"Fall back!" You heard Captain Undyne shout. "We can't let them separate us!"

You and your comrades began shifting towards the gate in an attempt to keep them from attacking your flanks. Although, you'd only taken a few steps when your nose caught a particularly familiar scent. It was sharp, earthy and yet sweet at the same time - the exact scent from your dreams. But where was it coming from?

You noticed a flicker of red out of the corner of your eye and just managed to dodge yet another strike from the hooded skeleton. He scowled and you bared your teeth in response before he darted out of your reach again. He smelled like smoke and death so it certainly wasn't him.

"Come on, pup. If we don't move now, they'll cut us off from the others," Sir Draco rumbled as he blocked another volley of bone bullets with his shield.

You sniffed the air intently, barely hearing what he'd said. That scent...they were here somewhere... Your soulmate was here!

Without really thinking, you darted off in the direction that you were certain the scent was coming from, disregarding the fact that you were also running away from your comrades. You just managed to dodge a bone bullet the hooded skeleton summoned, although it did graze your side. You could hear Undyne shouting at you to return but you didn't listen and kept running. It seemed like no one was actually chasing after you but you could still hear the clash of weapons at the gate, so maybe your comrades had kept them occupied?

The scent was coming from further inside the fortress and only grew stronger the further you ventured, until you managed to slip into a dark building and close the door behind you.

Your paws were great at muffling your footsteps and thanks to your nose, you knew that you were close to the source of the scent. You stepped cautiously around furniture and through passageways until you entered the largest library you'd ever seen.

There was light here, from various lanterns and candles peppered throughout the room, which you were grateful for since you couldn't really see in the dark, although you couldn't help but feel uneasy. You slipped between bookshelves and your ears twitched as you strained to hear the slightest sound. Other than the clinking of the length of chain in your paws and that of your own armour, everything seemed quiet.

Too quiet.

The scent was everywhere and you were starting to have a hard time pinpointing which direction to keep moving in. The fur on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end and you quickly turned, only to come face to face with another skeleton.

He was covered in corruption and four tendrils undulated restlessly behind his back. He wore no armour but underneath the black ooze he seemed to be wearing fancy clothing. He had a gold circlet on his skull and a single cyan eyelight in his left eye socket, as his right was covered by the ooze.

You had barely registered his appearance when he lashed out with his tentacles, slamming you against a nearby bookshelf. You let out a yelp from the impact and heard your meteor hammer clatter to the ground as you lost your grip on the chain.

"Who let a mutt into my home?" the skeleton hissed.

You squirmed but your attempts to escape only caused his tendrils to coil tighter around your body, until it was difficult to breathe.

He drew closer until you were only a few inches apart and narrowed his good eye socket at you. "Are you even a soldier?"

Your eyes widened as it occurred to you that the smell that had haunted you for years was from him. He was your soulmate. Him...the one who'd overthrown an entire country singlehandedly was your one and only.

You pawed at the tendrils around your body. "You're... You're the one..." you managed to gasp.

His smile widened and he let out an amused chuckle. "I'm what? I assure you that whatever you're about to say, I've heard it all before." He let out a sigh and loosened the grasp his tentacles had on you ever so slightly. "But I suppose I can humour you a little bit..."

You couldn't help but cough the moment you could breath properly again. After taking in several lungfuls of air, you looked up at him before trying to explain.

"You're the one I've been dreaming about all my life. My soulmate..."

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a minute. He raised his bonebrows slightly but otherwise showed no further reaction to this revelation.

"Well... That's actually a new one." He chuckled and stepped back a bit but noticeably didn't let go of you. "My apologies, it seems I underestimated you slightly. You're amusing at the very least..."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I'm serious! I've been looking for so long and now I've actually found you."

He rolled his eyelight before giving you an odd look. "I don't believe you. I don't have a soulmate," he muttered.

"Of course you do! I wouldn't have sought you out if we weren't meant to be together!"

"It's not possible, alright?"

"But-"

His tendrils suddenly constricted once more, although your ability to breath wasn't as impeded this time. You couldn't possibly break out of his hold now and you were all but forced to stay still.

"I mean it," he growled. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to tell me the truth, understand?"

"Yeah, okay. Just, not so tight please?"

He pointedly ignored your request as if you hadn't said anything at all. "Why are you actually here?"

"My comrades and I were ordered to investigate this place and if possible, take down the source of the corruption. Although, it seems that's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am. My name is Lord Donovan, the new ruler of this land." There was a twinge of pride in his voice and he puffed out his ribcage slightly. "Where are your comrades?"

You didn't like how ominous his tone sounded but there was no reason to lie to him. "They're probably still fighting your men at the gate, at least they were before I caught your scent and sought you out."

He gave you an incredulous look. "You broke rank on the off chance that I was your so called soulmate? What a foolish thing to do, almost as foolish as coming here in the first place."

You wrinkled your nose and let out a frustrated huff. "You are my soulmate!" you growled. "How many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull?!"

He abruptly yanked you closer until your foreheads were nearly touching, but so that he was leering down at you. "Listen well, mutt. I am not your soulmate. I am an entity of pure hatred and spite. I am incapable of love or any remotely positive feeling for that matter."

"S-surely there's a way to find out?" you whimpered.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Yes, there is a divination ritual that can be performed, but such a thing takes time, something you don't have right now."

You squirmed in his grip. "I don't need some fancy ritual to prove that you're wrong. If you just, let me go for a moment, I'll show you."

He eyed you warily before taking a glance around the library. "Fine, but don't try anything. I would prefer if you didn't ruin any of these tomes with your useless dust."

You gave him a curt nod, although the casual threat wasn't lost on you. "Same goes for you."

He released his tendrils, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground but you managed to land your feet. After straightening your armour and retrieving the weapon you'd dropped earlier, you turned back to him again.

Lord Donovan stood with arms crossed and a critical expression on his face. "I'm surprised that you would risk turning your back on an enemy," he commented.

You chuckled, "Well, you just said that you didn't want to ruin these books."

He narrowed his eye socket. "I could've lied..."

You snorted but chose not to needle him further. Instead, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before pressing a paw against your chestplate.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm baring my soul to you. What does it look like?" you retorted.

You could feel him judging you but he made no move to interrupt. "You're a fool," he finally stated.

You ignored him and drew your soul out, letting the upside down white heart float lazily in your palm. It wasn't perfect like it had once been but the faint cracks spoke of the many battles you'd survived to get to this point. You could even see your stats, which was only further proof of your strength and the deeds you'd committed for it.

When you met his gaze again, you noticed that he looked a bit uncomfortable. His permanent grin had fallen and he was doing his best not to look at your soul directly. He actually reminded you a little of a bashful child at the moment.

"How does this," he vaguely gestured at you, "actually prove anything?"

You had to grit your teeth to keep from laughing at him. Had he never been taught how these things worked? Even an eight year old could understand the significance of baring your soul to your fated.

"The frequency of our souls are the same and that means we are soulmates," you responded.

He scoffed at that. "I'm not showing you my soul."

"Come on... If you'll just do this one thing, you'll know that I'm right!"

He frowned and shook his skull.

"Please, I'm not trying to trick you..." When he made no move to respond, you sighed and held out your paws. "I understand that you don't trust me; I probably wouldn't either if I was in your position. You can hold my hands if you want, I promise I won't hurt you."

He eyed them for a moment. "Fine...but on one condition..."

You nodded vigorously, "Of course!"

"If you really want to see my soul, then I can't have you leave, at least not alive... Are you actually willing to give up everything, including your friends and family, on something as improbable as being soulmates?"

"With all due respect, I am a soldier. I live each day as if it were my last, as does my family. When I was ordered to come here, I did so knowing that I likely wouldn't return and if this is the price I must pay to find my soulmate, then I am willing."

He seemed to consider your words for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His cyan eyelight flickered for a moment before a new look crossed his face. It almost seemed like one of respect but you couldn't entirely be sure.

"Very well then, if you're certain you won't live to regret it."

He hesitated for a moment but when you didn't pull away, he stepped closer and coiled two of his tendrils around your wrists. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle and he lifted your paws over your head, so there was no way for you to attack him. In this position, your height discrepancy was much more obvious and you felt rather small next to him.

You felt completely exposed like this, even though you were still wearing your armour. Having your soul floating freely with no way to shield it from anyone else's eyes was honestly a little terrifying. He could strike you down in an instant and there wouldn't be anything you could do about it.

Lord Donovan brought his hand to his ribcage, mimicking the gesture you had made earlier. He focused for a second before pulling his own soul from his body. It wasn't shaped anything like you'd expected, instead it was more oblong than heart-shaped, much like the cross section of an apple. It was jet black with a cyan flare around the edges and seemed like it too was coated in corruption like the rest of his body.

You couldn't help but find his soul oddly beautiful but you kept your comments to yourself for a moment. Instead, you watched him calmly for what he'd do next.

He seemed to be contemplating something before gingerly bringing his soul closer to your own. You were thankful that he didn't let them touch, instead holding it a few inches away.

You waited with baited breath.

At first, your souls simply floated there, slowly thrumming with latent mana.

Suddenly you felt an intense pulse pass through your soul.

It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, although slightly similar to the high that you'd experienced a few times when your LV increased, except way better. There was a rush of power but also a strong euphoric feeling that made all your uneasiness ebb away.

Donovan seemed utterly stunned. His cyan eyelight had shrunk down at least two sizes and he stood stock still like a statue.

"You felt that?" you whispered, although you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.

He seemed completely at a loss for words and it took him a moment to even register that you'd asked a question at all. "I... Yes...I felt that..."

"Do you believe me now?"

"You were right about the frequency being the same..." He finally tore his gaze away from your souls and gave you an intense look. "You can't leave me."

You chuckled and tried to move your arms, only to remember that he still had you restrained. "A deal's a deal. I saw your soul and we're soulmates now; seems fair to me."

"Indeed..." he murmured, before guiding his soul back into his ribcage. You noticed that he hesitated to do the same for you.

You chuckled softly at his apparent awkwardness. "I can do it myself if you'd rather not, you'll just have to let me go first."

"No, it's fine..." He took great care not to graze your soul with his claws as he returned it to it's proper place in your chest. His movements were rather stiff though, almost like he was handling fine china and was afraid of smashing it.

His hand lingered for a moment, as if he was debating if he should actually touch you or not, before pulling away. "Forgive me...but this is a lot to take in at the moment. I never thought-" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "I never even asked for your name..."

You smiled and told him your name as his tendrils around your arms loosened, allowing you to lower them back to your sides, but not actually letting go just yet. The tips wound softly through your fingers like they were curious or maybe they just wanted to hold you like a lover might.

"I suppose there is still the matter of your former comrades." He looked off in the direction you thought the gate was in before asking a question. "How would you prefer I deal with them?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken. "I'd prefer they leave with their lives, but knowing Captain Undyne, she wouldn't give up until every one of her men got out safely."

"That poses a problem," he hummed and tapped his mandible thoughtfully. "As my own won't quit until they eliminate all resistance."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe I could talk to my comrades and convince them to leave?"

"No." His expression darkened and he turned back to you. "They won't leave if they see that you're alive."

"So what do we do?"

He thought for a moment before turning to leave the library, tugging you along with his tentacles. "I have an idea, come with me."

You let out a small yip as you nearly stumbled over your own hind feet while trying to follow him. He spared you a glance over his shoulder but kept quickly moving through the dark passageways. He did mercifully let go of one of your arms so you would have a bit more balance though.

He led you into a room that, from the shelves of tonics and the racks of drying herbs, reminded you of an apothecary. The various herbs and ingredients all melded together into a slightly musty smell that you weren't fond of.

Donovan pulled a specific vial down from the shelf and brought it over to the work bench. You walked over and leaned against it to see what he was doing. After adding a few ingredients and swirling it together, he turned back to you.

"I need you to trust me..." He trailed off and glanced away before muttering, "Not that I've done anything to deserve your trust so far..."

You gave him a gentle smile and stepped closer to put your paw on his arm. He inadvertently jumped at the contact but didn't pull away.

"Of course I trust you. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it."

His bonebrows furrowed and he lightly stroked the fur on the side of your face with his claws. "Can I have your dagger?"

"I'm surprised you even noticed I had one," you chuckled as you drew the blade from its sheath and held it out to him.

He hummed and took it from your grasp. "I think you'll find that there isn't much that escapes my attention." He eyed the sharp edge for a moment before glancing back at you. "How attached are you to this?"

You frowned slightly. Your dagger wasn't too special to the naked eye but it had served you well ever since you'd been gifted it after your first successful mission. Even though it wasn't your primary weapon, any of your comrades would recognize it as yours if they saw it.

"It's just a dagger," you answered. "It's a small sacrifice to be with you forever."

He watched you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. This will hurt, but I'm only going to do what's necessary for you to be free of them."

You felt his tendrils coil around your body, cradling and holding you in place. He caressed your face and seemed to study your eyes for a second longer. You took a steadying breath and nodded.

And then he ran you through with the dagger.

You should've found something to bite down on before agreeing to this but your scream of pain was cut off when he abruptly yanked you into a kiss. It was a rough kiss and, if he wasn't holding you in place, you might've fallen over from the forcefulness.

He pulled away quickly and pressed the vial to your lips. It had a harsh taste but you managed to get it down without choking. Almost immediately, you felt an odd warmth flood your body and your eyelids began to grow heavy.

Lord Donovan laid you down on a bed that hadn't been in the room and you wondered if he'd brought you somewhere else. You knew he'd just inflicted what would normally be a mortal wound but somehow your body wasn't falling to pieces. If it weren't for the pain and sudden exhaustion, you probably could've run a mile. Whatever was in that tonic was obviously far stronger than any healing potion you'd ever been able to afford.

Your gaze met his own and when you held eye contact, he seemed relieved. He still held your dagger but it was thoroughly coated in what you instinctively knew was your own dust so that not even the handle was spared. He then took it in two of his tendrils and snapped the blade in half, as if it were nothing but a twig and not hardened steel.

Your shocked expression must've been concerning as he frowned and moved closer to you again. He combed his claws through the fur between your ears in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry, but this needs to be as convincing as possible if they are to leave and not return in some foolhardy attempt to rescue you."

You swallowed thickly and managed to nod.

"Rest now, I will deal with them myself. You have my word that they won't be unnecessarily harmed."

You were out before he even left the room.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

You awoke to the sound of several unknown voices. There was a loud voice that spoke the most and the fastest, a softer and more raspy voice that occasionally answered the first's questions, and then there was a third much deeper voice who only spoke in clipped one word answers. They immediately fell quiet as soon as they realized that you were awake.

When you risked cracking open your eyes, you came face to face with one of the skeletons from earlier, specifically the one that had corruption leaking from his eye sockets. His skull took up most of your field of view but you could just barely make out the other two skeletons near the doorway.

"well well, look who's finally awake~" he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I suppose so. Now can you back up a bit?"

He smirked but mercifully stepped away from the bed so you could sit up. Your armour had been removed at some point although you were still wearing your tunic. You would likely need new gear after Donovan stabbed you anyways, but you didn't like being in the same room as three very dangerous people while unprotected.

There was still some pain but you seemed perfectly fine otherwise. Maybe later you'd have to check where the wound had been to see how it had healed. You could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around your abdomen but that was all that seemed to have happened.

"so, word is you and the boss are thick as thieves all of the sudden..."

You glanced up at him sharply. There was no point in denying it but should you really tell them why he'd spared your life?

He chuckled and glanced over at the other two, who seemed like they could care less. "we've just been dying to meet you, haven't we?"

The large skeleton huffed and the hooded one merely rolled his eyelights.

He didn't seem phased by their lackluster enthusiasm and soon turned back to you again. "you got a name then, cutie?" he asked way too sweetly.

You raised your head and squared your shoulders before introducing yourself.

"aw, it suits you!" He grinned, although it was a tad too wide. "i suppose introductions are in order then..."

"the big guy goes by maul," he said and pointed him out to you. He bent down to whisper in your ear, "he doesn't talk much, but between you and me, it's rumoured that he used to be the headsman during the coup in the horrur kingdom."

You believed it. The way you'd seen him swing that greataxe was proof enough of his strength. You were curious how he got the head wound if he was just the executor, but you weren't about to ask.

Maul's single red eyelight observed you coolly before he nodded slightly. At least he didn't seem like he wanted to tear you apart right away.

"mr. broody goes by reven." He directed your attention to the skeleton in question before repeating what he'd done earlier. "pretty sure he still wears his old paladin armour, despite breaking his oath after his brother got dusted. he's the one responsible for the crimson stabbings, didn't you know?"

You pulled the sheets slightly closer and swallowed nervously. You remembered how afraid everyone had been during that time and how at a loss your superiors had been. The murders had gone on for years before just stopping without any conclusion being reached.

Reven narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously but he seemed to like the effect that his supposed reputation had on you.

"it's actually kinda impressive you held him off for as long as you did back there~"

Reven scowled at his loud mouthed compatriot's words and crossed his arms. You certainly didn't feel proud of yourself and if it wasn't for Sir Draco, you knew he would've overwhelmed you quickly.

Trying to distract yourself, you turned to the last unnamed skeleton in the room, who was still a bit to close for your comfort. "And who are you?" you asked.

"You can call me Dirk, or anything else you feel partial to~" He practically beamed at the revelation that you were even remotely interested in his backstory. "I used to run with some brigands and we made a decent killing for a while. Although, I was always meant for something more than that boring life so I killed them instead."

You didn't know what you had been expecting but how flippant he was about committing murder was more than a little unsettling. You really shouldn't have been so surprised though.

"Your armour doesn't belong to you, does it?" you asked carefully.

"oh yeah." He grinned before adding, "i stabbed a guy for it!"

You ran a hand down your face and sighed. "Of course, why did I think you would've done anything otherwise?"

In an effort to change the subject, you glanced at the others and asked a different question. "What happened to...my companions?"

Neither Maul nor Reven seemed interested in answering although the latter suppressed a small chuckle.

Dirk pulled a face and shook his skull. "they ran like cowards," he muttered.

You frowned. "That doesn't sound quite right. Are you sure?"

"well... the fish lady got pretty mad when the boss revealed that you were 'dead'..." He made finger quotes and chuckled. "she actually tried to fight him but he taught her a lesson real quick."

Reven chuckled as well. "she had to be hauled away by the rest of them..." he muttered under his breath.

You felt your heart drop. Donovan had promised that he wouldn't kill them, but you still couldn't help feeling concerned. What if she succumbed to her injuries before getting to safety?

"hey."

You glanced over at Dirk and immediately noticed that his permanent grin had fallen slightly.

"how do we know that you didn't just trick the boss into thinking you two are... what's it called?" he paused for emphasis before continuing, "soulmates, or some other dumb crap?"

He took a step closer to the bed and you inadvertently tried to back away from him. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the other two had seemed to take interest as well. Maul stayed by the door, although his grin widened in an unsettling way and he crossed his arms. Reven narrowed his eye sockets and took a few steps closer.

"Of course not! I wouldn't-"

Your protest was cut off when Donovan suddenly materialized on your other side. The boys paused and turned to look at him, although at first he said nothing and shot each of them a look of displeasure. Without saying a word, he wrapped your body up in a few of his tendrils and pulled you closer to him.

"If any of you so much as look at my soulmate wrong, I will not hesitate to strip your souls from your miserable bodies and torment you for eternity," he growled quietly.

You felt a shiver run down your spine but his threat seemed to have an effect on the boys. Maul glanced away and Reven seemed to visibly deflate. Dirk seemed to grow uncomfortable but outwardly didn't appear intimidated.

Donovan eyed each of them for several long seconds before he turned to you and seemed to visibly relax. He gave you what was supposed to be a comforting smile but it still looked a little scary on him.

"I didn't go for a killing blow but holding back is a little difficult for me. She'll probably just lose an eye if treated properly," he stated. His tone came across as pretty ominous but you did feel some relief that he'd at least attempted to keep his word.

"Thank you, I appreciate that you still tried."

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Later, once you were properly healed, Dirk approached you in the common area while you were attempting to salvage what you could from your old armour. You inadvertently tensed up but he flashed you a smile that was probably supposed to look friendly.

"so, i've been thinking," he started to say.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's worrying," you responded with an awkward laugh.

Across the room, you heard Reven snicker but he didn't bother trying to join in.

Dirk's smile grew wider. "heh... anyways, each of us has a place on the team. maul is the muscle, reven is good with both melee and ranged fighting, and i'm the assassin but i dabble in ranged attacks too. so, what do you do?"

You took a moment to think it over. You wanted to get along with them and if proving yourself a competent teammate would help, you were determined to do your best.

"Well, I'm generally a forward scout but I'm more than capable of holding my own in melee combat."

Dirk nodded, "fun! i guess we'll have to eventually come up with a nickname for you." He held out his hand and tilted his skull all the while smirking at you. "welcome to the dark fortress."

You grasped his hand and smiled. Maybe you'd like being here a lot more than you originally thought.

Notes:

A meteor hammer is kind of like a flail. It is a weapon with one or two weights attached to a length of chain. It may be impractical, but I had a distinct mental picture of MC swinging it around that I loved.

Donovan is an Irish name and means dark warrior.

Maul is actually named after the weapon of the same name (although the verb is kinda fitting too!).

Reven is short for revenant and a nod to one of the coolest characters in Star Wars (Darth Revan).

Dirk is named for a type of dagger.

Did you catch what kingdom was taken over by Donovan and his gang? I had a hard time coming up with one that made sense so Storyshift it was. In this world, each AU is its own kingdom, meaning pretty much every major AU can and probably does exist somewhere or somehow.

#raccoons drabbles #undertale #dreamtale #fantasy au #soulmate au #nightmare x reader #nightmare #reader #dog monster reader #killer sans #dust sans #horror sans #nightmare's soul shape is not original to me #not sure who came up with it but maybe wishing-stones?#i really love these characters and i have so many more ideas #maybe i'll write a follow up sometime?#i just mashed a ton of aus together so anyone can join in the story!#i would love to answer questions and go feral about this in the future!#i live for dark possessive characters now...

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ennaih · 6 months

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Every Film I Watch In 2023:

236. Krampus (2015)

#krampus #krampus (2015)#2023filmgifs #my gifs #tw: horror #it's 2 Dec and so the Christmas films begin #no it won't just be Christmas horror #sadly not so many Christmas horror films that I'm actually interested in #too many damned slashers #which bore me to tears #give me the Christmas supernatural horror #that's my shit #and too little of that around #luckily i love Michael Dougherty films #and he did not disappoint #i just love his visuals and his sense of humour so much #it's just as dark and grim and fucked up as mine #and his visuals are as gorgeous as i want #it's an actual delight to make gifs of his films #cos you brighten them up and there's all this detail that literally comes to light #whereas other films you brighten them #and it still looks like shit #but no his films have texture and interesting detail #three out of three films i've watched of his now #and i've loved every one #not much characterisation here #but that's okay #it's the actual story and its dark sensibility that i enjoy so much #and how fucken hawt is that krampus tongue #fuck yeah

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ask-the-totally-real-peppino · 9 months

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It is i! The one who collects the random facts!

(And forgets if my questions have been answered or not!)

Can Pep do the whole "Take off my head and throw it at Peppino" thing? Like he did in Pizza tower? Since in this Au he's more... melty.

(I have offhandedly mentioned it a few times, but yes, Pep can remove his head like in game (anything that happens in game, assume he can do). The fact that he is 'melty' does not affect his ability to do so - unless he is upset and unable to hold his form, making parts of his body fuse into each other

In fact, all clones (Fake Peppinos and Peppiclones alike), can remove their heads, and it's kind of a bonding experience to swap heads for a while hehe

Anyway, Pep brain jumpscare raugh!!!

#ooc post #he visually looks like he is dripping but he is still solid #he is not like wet he's more like that stuff that is a solid but acts like a liquid and I do not remember what it is right now #also I know this has been asked a few times and I think I was saving them for the story so whoops #but this one was directed to me and not to Pep so sailor bees I guess #it was also the first ask I got in over a week so I got excited kjfdkfd #not that I don't have 800 others to answer but y'know #anyway I am hoping now it is september I can finish the intermission and get back to the story but no promises #there is still much to do and only so many spoons #did not mean to ramble here so it is time to go #body horror

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serenity-the-firefly · 1 year

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i think the hephaestus should be Alive. not like, hera is a real person alive, like, the physical ship itself has Something Going On. It is a haunted house and it is lonely and it is never alone and it wants you to stay safe inside it

#idk i just think the references in the early seasons to there being Something Else with them out there are so !!#there is another version of wolf 359 that turns into a full on horror story #and the ship itself has been through so much and seen so many deaths….it itself is undead and reanimated and frankensteined together….#wolf 359 #thoughts

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vicsy · 1 year

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a 1.4k Strollonso ficlet in this trying time. some slightly tenderhorny introspection, really.

It’s in the way every living soul keeps patronizing him.

It’s in the way, when Sebastian says his heartfelt goodbyes at the end of the season party, he clasps Lance’s shoulder and bids him good luck for the year to come. It has nothing to do with him driving; it’s about who he’ll be driving with.

It’s in the way his father never gave him the talk but when Fernando Alonso gets signed to Aston Martin, Lawrence sits him down and they talk for an hour or two, touching on the entire history of the F1 that Lance knows already, for the love of god, and he’s pretty miserable by the time his dad sings praises to Fernando’s skills, underlining his holy like importance to the team.

It’s in the way he can’t fucking log on twitter in the off-season without being hit by a barrage of insanity and, frankly, poorly made memes created to feed a certain narrative while Lance hasn’t even met Fernando in the role of his new teammate, even though they’ve shared the grid for years.

Lance doesn’t really care; that is, basically, his whole brand and he lives the good life, untethered and unbothered, surrounded by wealth, love, a particular thrill.

And yet.

Fernando Alonso is a perpetual wildcard and Lance builds his attitude around this little image, prepared for some sort of psychological warfare but it never happens. Fernando is in his space every day — testing, meetings, strategy planning; once at a get-along dinner his father planned. Lance should be bored and bitching his way out but he’s stuck with this enigma of a man, sitting in front of him, sharing a meal and some wine while Lawrence explains the unexplainable things the team did to the car.

His mind wanders to the reasons he’ll be brushed off this season, just a young brat racing alongside a living legend again but then Fernando raises a toast and Lance’s name falls off his lips with that lilting accent and–

It’s the wine or something in the air or a shell inside his chest that cracks open to let a little light in, all while Fernando talks, spilling niceties and compliments, and that image Lance built somewhat falls apart.

Maybe it’s because Fernando hasn’t run him off the track yet or glared at him in a way some people that have been around long enough call a death stare; maybe Lance hasn’t spent enough time in his company to earn a reputation, to become a part of the feud that’ll go down in history. So many teams, he knows, have fallen by the wayside over less.

Oh, but it’s such a good play because Fernando has eyes only for him like the rest don’t exist, and Lance finds himself caught like a fly in a glue trap, an object of his sole undivided attention, and Esteban fucking warned him profusely, that’s how Fernando operates. Lures you into a manic little game only he can win.

And all those precautions are mushed together in Lance‘s brain, he knows, he knows but Fernando’s usual sharpness doesn’t cut him into bits and pieces, the lack of malice he was preparing to meet like an unwanted guest non-existent in the space between them, in the constant close proximity. It’s confusing and Lance is a shit actor. He can’t bring himself to feign ignorance or pretend to put on the face of someone he’s not.

The picture everyone paints of Fernando is skewed, so when Lance catches a glimpse of his true colors, all of his plans to stick it to the man burst at the seams, crumbling like a house of cards.

For all of Lance’s naivety, for how easily he follows down that narrow path, it’s a rush no money can buy. A touch here, a not-so-friendly pat there, a show of teeth in a smile that is lethal and Lance knows Fernando wants a taste, craves to do so much more, something unspeakable, something that could turn into the nastiest paddock gossip to this day but it’s exhilarating — knowing he does that to a man by simply existing. Knows that, maybe, he wants it, too.

And it doesn’t take them long to fall into the bed together or, rather, it’s Lance who falls, perhaps for some elaborate scheme Fernando is running on him because who is he if not a villain with a plan for mayhem.

And yet.

It’s in the way Fernando softly kisses both his wrists, carefully thumbs at the bandages, smoothing them with furrowed brow, and Lance feels like he might get shattered by that fondness reserved just for him.

It’s in the way he makes a face at another flock of reporters, forever annoyed by the implications they keep oh so implicit, but a private smile tugs at the corners of his lips the moment Fernando appears behind him, a palm splayed wide on the small of his back, his own smile shark-like when he says how great Lance is doing, how the team is proud of the work he puts in.

It’s in the way he feels more than an heir to the old money, more than his privilege and some character quirks that label him as spoiled when they are alone, Lance’s long legs pillowed in Fernando’s lap and the lights are dimmed with just a TV on. He makes a dumb joke, fighting a flutter in his chest, and Fernando laughs unabashedly, swatting his thigh while all the jostling causes his phone to slip between the couch cushions, the old race reruns playing out muted in the background.

And every time Fernando pushes into him unhurriedly, surrounded by the faceless hotel room walls, it washes away everything Lance is constantly bottling down inside; the little flame burns brighter with each languid thrust, with a hand between his shoulder blades, with a kiss placed at the back of his neck. Fernando holds him through it insanely close as Lance pants into the pristine white sheets, wet from stray tears and come, patches soaked through under his trembling knees.

And every time Fernando gets rough with him, hand coming down hard on his reddened ass because Lance had been in a mood, riling Fernando up, giving as good as he gets, to the point where he ends up bent in half, cock straining and weeping from each slap, each word reaching his ears seeped in unearthly lust. The breakneck speed of a racing car doesn’t quite match the adrenaline hit, doesn’t reduce Lance to whimpers and croaky moans, doesn’t push him to the edge of begging.

And every time Fernando spends what feels like hours cleaning him up and licking traces of his orgasm off Lance’s skin before plopping down next to him, sweaty and out of breath, sucking a mark into his neck, Lance feels like his floating, finally out of his head. Fernando teases him with a twinkle in his eyes, forever kind where he looks at him, and Lance playfully bites his shoulder in return, then smiles into the pillow before sleep claims him, a heavy arm thrown over his waist, grounding him.

And it’s Fernando, Fernando, Fernando — every time, all the time, and Lance finds himself suddenly caring, wanting, feeling like he doesn’t wish for it to end, ever. Like losing at this game they play is worth having a life inside a life; something real and fragile and raw encapsulated between who they both are to the outside world.

And yet.

It spins out of control like a car on a wet track, rules to the game Lance never bothered to learn forgotten and discarded, but he knows, among the sound of the engine running, the buzzing lamp in the meeting room, or the commotion just before a race. He knows, somewhere among all the sneaking around, stealing time together under the guise of team building, the false pretense got stripped away from Fernando’s actions. Lance knows, dares to look past the man behind a legacy, past a villainous haze.

It’s in the way Lance knows they’ve abandoned the chase, the thrill, or it left them without as much as a warning.

It’s in the way Lance seeks Fernando out with his eyes only to find him already staring at him, reading his features like an open book, his heart beating out of sync.

It’s in the way there is no turning back but Lance only looks forward and Fernando is holding his hand over the car console, squeezing his knee under the table at dinner while no one is looking, embracing him from behind with a kiss to his bare shoulder blade while the ribbons of morning light stream through the kitchen window.

It just leaves Lance wondering.

How can someone love so loud, so deafening, without a single word.

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