❤ No Friends
[2300+ words]
[He/Him pronouns]
[Squid Game AU: Blood mentions, undescriptive death, furry mention, possible other triggers be careful!]
Description: This contest isn't a game between friends. Somehow, you find some anyway. [Dream Team x Reader]
[Read the rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
You worried your lip between your teeth, leaning back against the coarse fabric of your bed. Teams were already forming, people huddled in their own unconsciously divided sections watching stragglers warily. The next game was set to start soon and you hadn't joined a team, an unsettled pit in your stomach every time you thought about picking a side.
There were two large groups, one set of people referring to themselves as "L'Manburg" and another calling themselves "Dream's Ensemble" or something similar. Each leader was a stark division from the other, one team lead by the first number, 001, and the last number, 486, though you didn't remember who had which.
Your own number, 243, was smack dab in the middle of both of the numbers. In a way, the rest of the stragglers considered you their de-facto leader with no one else taking up the mantle. There weren't many who hadn't chosen a side but there was still enough people for you to feel so small for the shoes you were trying to fill.
You tore a piece of your bread apart, shoving it in your mouth with nothing else to do. It wasn't amazing bread, not warm and soft and slightly buttery, but it could've been worse. You've had people give you worse. You took a good look over the people spanning the beds around you. They weren't trustworthy, not truly, you didn't know half of their names and the rest of them were a blubbering mess of weak spots. Weak spots got you killed.
Frowning, you ripped off another piece of bread. As you shove it in your mouth. the disgusting taste of paper hit your tongue. You've eaten enough scrap paper in times of desperation to know the taste of ink smearing your tongue. Spitting it out, you wipe at your tongue with your sleeve and grimace at the slobbery piece of paper in your bread.
'Circle. Triangle. Star. Umbrella.'
It was scrawled in perfect print. on such tiny paper that it was a wonder you ever noticed it. You glanced around, curious if anyone else noticed the odd taste. No, nothing. No one had hunched into themselves reading a tiny pink slip. You were the only one to notice.
Without thinking, you shoved the paper in your mouth. It wasn't a good taste but you had a feeling the slip had something to do with the next challenge. Shoving the rest of the bread in your mouth, you chugged the rest of your milk and wiped your mouth. The next challenge would be starting soon, you should probably try to make some alliances, however strained.
"Hi," Someone walked up to you before you could move, white-rimmed sunglasses pushed high up their nose. Their light brown hair was bouncing with their steps. "I don't think we've talked yet."
"No," You affirm, briefly looking over their shoulder and catching the stone-faced leader staring back. Goosebumps trailing your neck, you twist your head up to look in 404's eyes from your low position on your bed. "I'm Y/N. No last name."
"George, last name not needed." They said, lips quirked up with amusement. "So, I'm only asking because Dream told me to but would you like to join the Dream SMP."
"No," You said without needing to think. You could join, but they had a target painted on their back by L'Manburg and it was drama unneeded. "I appreciate the offer but I'd rather stay a neutral party for now."
George didn't look surprised at all. "I thought so," he said, solidifying your guess. "You don't seem the type to instantly join a fight. You'd watch and wait for the right moment to join. Dream didn't think so but he's a stupid American."
"You're oddly observant," You say in lieu of a response.
"And so are you." George did smile this time. a sweet little thing, shy but heart-warming. "Word of advice, don't wait too long. You sit around the entire time and people won't need you. You'd be another death in a game where people stopped keeping track."
You look at George, really look at him, and he is unassuming with his too-large zip-up hoodie that wasn't his and his boyish, charming features. There is a sharpness to his face though, sharp teeth hiding behind soft lips and edges that could cut steel. His eyes, barely noticeable with the sunglasses. see too much with a smart glint that has you wondering what he doesn't know. He tips his head to you, face going back to an impasse.
"See you after the game," His voice is solid, confident. You are confident too.
{《☆》}
You pick a triangle and it is the easiest decision you've made in a while. George greets you with a tip of his head, already leaning back into a bed when you're done. Dream is looking at you over his shoulder and the goosebumps are back.
Settled down in your own corner of the nobodies, you don't expect anyone to bother you until gunshots start ringing out. But someone does, shaking your shoulder and then leaping back when you swing your leg at them.
"Woah," 034 has their hands raised in the air, a large distance between the two of you. They have a bandana wrapped around their head, swaying with them as they lean back. "Sorry dude didn't mean to startle you."
"Whatever, why are you here?" You grumble, a bit peeved at being woken up.
"Uh, oh, Dream wanted to see if you changed your mind." They laugh nervously, scratching at their neck as they look back. Dream is staring at both of you, eyes slanted in an oddly personal way as he meets your eyes. His eyes are a hazel type, with a warm brown circling the pupil but a forest green mixed at the edges. They're like steel as they trace your face, searching for any emotion that will give away your thinking.
"I don't know," You look back at 034, not missing their minuscule flinch from your stoic gaze. "Depends. Has it been long enough?"
They sway in place, switching from the balls of their heels to the tips of their toes anxiously. Not meeting your eyes directly, 034 shrugged. "Maybe, dunno. Not up for me to decide."
You hum, watching 034's hair tilt and fall to cover their eyes, black hair sucking the light out of the world around them. Their white bandana is the only divide you can notice in his hair, too many dark shades blended together to tell which parts fluff up or twist sporadically. He's the type to look dangerous at first glance, sharp features and burning eyes that solder fear into your heart. But he's nothing without a fearless leader to command him. He is a right-hand man but nothing more. It does not make him useless, just troublesome.
"No, not yet," You look back at Dream, smiling with no emotions. He doesn't look different, still staring at you indescribably, just with his lips twisted down and pressed into a thin line.
{《☆》}
A fight breaks out at night. It shocks you awake as your bed shakes with the force of a body slamming into it. People are screaming, crying, bleeding out in front of you. The sheets you were sleeping on are white but the floor around you is not so lucky.
Dodging past a crazy person whose attacking wildly, you spot the two main groups attacking each other. Sharp edged bottles cracked up for weapons, metal bars from the beds gripped tight in small hands.
You squint down at them, stepping closer to the scene. Dream, George, and 034 are leading the fight, all sporting weapons against the relatively young adults that make up L'Manburg, carving lines into cheeks and stabbing shallow wounds into tripped people. You don't know if anyone even has a team when everyone's attacking at wild.
Kicking a bloodthirsty man towards the fight, he's taken down in seconds by an angry dutch man screaming something about furries. Blood pools around their body and you take the brief second to leap down and take their weapon off of them. Slick metal, dripping with blood, is wiped down with your shirt before you try using it. It wouldn't be useful if it fell out your hands the second you tried using it, would it?
You keep towards the outskirts, attacking anybody who gets close. They tend to scramble off quick enough, looking for bigger fish to fry. That is until an oddly tall British man leaps down from a bed and faces you.
"So, you're the person Dream's been trying so hard to get." 486 comments almost idly, bored in fact. "If I'm honest, you don't look like much. Too weak, don't look too smart, I'm honestly surprised you made it this far."
He's not entirely wrong. You hadn't entirely expected to make it this far either, after so much time spent not doing anything productive this felt like too much progress. It felt good to be good at something, but you're also struggling to keep it up.
"You're not all that either," You snap, aiming desperately for an insult to land. Your words sound so familiar to you and it takes you a second to realize they're words you tell yourself. "You're smart sure but your not a leader. Your followers won't respect you when you start losing. You're a phony."
486 grits his teeth as the words hit their mark, arms flexing as they grip their weapon tighter. "Shut up."
You dodge a hard swing, knowing now that you two are more alike than you had thought. You dig deep into the darkness of your brain, pouring every taunting insult you've been told into a mold for a weapon sharp enough to hurt 486. "Why? Afraid of facing the truth that you're building yourself too high. When you fall, no one is going to catch you."
"Shut up!" 486 yelled, face flushed a hundred shades of fury. They swing again and this time you cannot dodge their long arms. Large shards of glass stick out from your arm, cracks in the glass as you drop to the floor. 486 stands over you, looming with a wicked sneer. "You're just a pest. A stupid fucking-!"
Someone bodily slams into 486 with a battle cry, using their metal bed post to hold 486 prisoner against the wall. You take a harsh breath in, stilted like the fear ripped your lungs open. As you open your eyes again, George is standing in front of you. He smiles, a cheeky little smug smile that flushes his cheeks pink. "Saw you needed some help, it's not too early is it?"
"Right on time," You said with an airy breath. George reached down and pulled you up, his soft hands cold against yours carefully. He didn't let go and neither did you. "I'm very much reconsidering my neutral stance," Glancing back at George, you smirked a bit. "After all, I need my knight in shining armour to keep me safe."
George laughed, his cheeks alight with embarrassment. Brushing it aside for his own good, he smiled, "I'm glad you've decided to join."
Looking over at 034, he was wiping off sweat as 486 scrambled towards 213. They looked up, meeting your eyes and smiling. "Glad you're alright now, you looked pretty shit during that. I mean, you're hot and all but blood doesn't look good on anyone." They shake their head before laughing. "So, where's Dream?"
George shook his head fondly, "You're an idiot, Sapnap."
Sapnap grinned, sharp-fanged and welcoming. "You love me."
"Go away," Letting go of your hand, George pushed Sapnap's face away roughly. As Sapnap ambled back to Dream, George looked back at you. Softening, he smiled sweetly at you, raising a hand to brush someone's blood of of your face. "I'm glad you're not just a number. Like, really glad."
You laugh and reach up to hold his hand, leaning into it more than socially acceptable. "I'm glad you aren't either." When you let go, George keeps your fingers linked. He bats away wild attacks, pulling you behind him often.
Dream meets your eyes as you walk into their metal barricade. Their stone cold face breaks into a smug little smile. "I told you so, George."
"Whatever, Dream, go get Ponk," George rolled his eyes, meeting your eyes as Dream happily ambles towards another fellow.
The brunet rolls his eyes fondly. "Dream's prideful. He was so sure you'd join us."
"Well I did, so he's not wrong." You look over at the man whose face seems to be naturally blank. He looks back and as both of your eyes meet he smiles, a softer but very wrong look from the man. Maybe he's just one of those people with a creepy smile. That does sound fitting.
There is a certain relief that comes with being able to let others make your choices. Having people stare at you, expecting and waiting, it makes your skin itch with the weight. Sapnap seems to feel the same, watching Dream, who takes the feeling in stride and thrives, waiting for an order to attack, to wait, to sleep, anything. It's sort of like he's a puppy.
Smiling at your own thought, imaging Sapnap with floppy dalmatian like ears, you slump back into George's shoulder. The brunet doesn't seem to care, too busy wiping blood off of his metal pole. Sapnap looks over, meeting your eyes with his own wide smile. Definitely a dog-boy.
"The fighting seems to be dying down," Dream says, looking down at you from where he now stands at your side. They twist their pole in their fingers, like it's easy to manipulate in theihands. "You two can rest. Me and Sap can take the first shift."
"Thanks Dream," George says, instantly standing to curl in the bed withing the fort. "Come on, Y/N."
"Alright," You stand, brushing dust off of your bloody clothes. Maybe it was counter-productive. "Thanks for the save again, Sapnap."
"Anytime handsome," He laughs, nodding you away to sleep.
Pillow next to George's, you think that maybe you should've joined sooner.
{《☆》}
[And then Dream betrays you all and goes on to die at Tommy's hands in the last game. /j]
[Second post this week wtf happened to having an upload schedule me. Anyway next post should be a little mermaid au with *someone* I'm not sure yet I'm already 1.5k words in ahdkgakf]
[Just as a forewarning! Uploads are out of order so something I said a chapter ago could've been from months ago! I'm thinking of adding dates to my post just so everyone is aware that somethings I've said are out of date! Also please keep commenting some of you are funny af]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars
💛 DAY 5 OF MONSTER WEEK — ANGEL PHILZA
[1500+]
[gender-neutral]
Description: You're a priest for Lady Death when you kinda... accidentally... refuse to let the grim reaper claim a soul.
[Read the rest under the cut]
You were raised within a church worshipping Lady Death, who you have always cherished. You have always been told you should never fear death, as it is only natural, it is an unstoppable force. Or, that's what they told you when you had caughten the Withering Effect, a terminal disease with no known cure.
Of course, you had agreed. This has been written in Lady Death's plans far before you knew how to speak, this is your natural course, fear would stop nothing.
Now, facing off an angel, whose darkened black wings you've only seen in portraits, with golden hair and narrowed eyes like from the sculptures. Sir Philza, Lady Death's most beloved angel, has come to take a soul and you refuse to let it happen.
Behind you is a young boy, with similar golden hair and pure sky blue eyes, now watery as they cower and clutch at your robes. He is sickly pale, he is so young.
"Sir Philza," Your voice does not quiver, which surprises you because bravery has never been a title of yours. "I beg of you, do not take this young soul from us. I will offer you anything."
"Even your soul," His eyes, icy blue daggers, cling to your face, to your eyes. They see too much, you feel naked, you don't look away. "It is only natural for disturbing nature so."
"If that is the price, let it be so," You kneel, still keeping the young boy behind you. "I will pay any dues."
Sir Philza looks over you, dancing over every relaxed muscle with a fine-toothed comb, as if searching for any fear. You cannot show it, you will not let the young boy die having lived such an empty life. His eyes aren't icy anymore, there is something substantial in them when he looks at you, as if your choice was respectable instead of ruinous. "I shall accept no soul today. It is my boon to you."
"You are a generous lord, Sir," You stay on your knee, head dipped to your chest. "And what is it you wish instead?"
"I shall accompany you until you die. I wish to see why it is you live so…" Sir Philza's lips audibly pucker, "Interestingly. I can't imagine this is a common occurrence."
"As you wish, Sir," You try to take as stealthy of a deep breath as you can, disbelieving that you had succeded in your insane actions.
{《☆》}
You had arrived at the temple with Sir Philza and Tommy, who had insisted on joining you to protect you from Sir Philza, who has firmly cemented himself in the young boy's head as evil. Having brought Sir Philza along with you, your fellow priests had spoken only politely to you, with none of their usual casual speech, as if you were a Saint instead of their friend, It all felt so alienating.
Sir Philza has been shadowing you since and with Tommy's health rapidly getting better, he also followed you around. It was only after a week did Sir Philza seem inclined to inform you that Tommy had the magical attunement to become a Saint to Lady Death.
Of course, you had told Tommy, who insisted on doing morning and afternoon prayers with you to see if Lady Death could stop what he called "the dying of your light" which Sir Philza pleasantly translated as Tommy seeing your soul dying. Truly heartening.
"Sir Philza," You took the time to initiate a conversation with the angel at least once a day, both from obligation and curiosity, "How long have you been collecting souls for Lady Death, our records are unclear."
"I'm not quite sure," Sir Philza paused, "I was born very early, far before any other angel could recall. I must at least be half a million years old at this point."
"Oh," You can't say you expected a number that large.
"Wow, you're old," Tommy chimes in unhelpfully. "You're like a grandpa. Grandpa Phil."
Sir Philza smiles, every day he seems to become more endeared to Tommy, and now he positively beams, "I am a grandpa, so I suppose you're allowed to call me as such, young saint." He looks far more pleased than he pretends.
"I wasn't aware angels could have children," You say before Tommy can disrespect the powerful angel more. "Are you the exception or should I fix our records."
"A little of both," Sir Philza doesn't need to think for this one, "It's completely possible but since most of our children are born mortal, angels don't bother. So, I'm definitely an exception to something."
"And were they?" You blurt before you can stop yourself. You cough, "Mortals, Human I mean."
"Yes," Sir Philza looks down at Tommy, who looks considerably more bored as he starts stacking and breaking towers of books. His face is wound tightly in pain, "My son was born mortal, as was my grandchild. I--," his breath catches, "I killed him myself."
"Oh," You weren't sure what you were expecting. Then, your wounds flare and you grunt, "My apologies for asking such a thing."
"It's no bother," Sir Philza laughs it off. He is a very kind person, you've found out. He is polite even though he's of such a high status, cares for humanity, and adores children. He is more human than some people you've met, even as an angel. "How has your daily prayers going," His eyes curve as he smiles, "I imagine Tommy is a delight so early in the morning."
'You sigh heavily, "Do not get me started, Sir Philza. I'm beginning to think he is an imp not a saint."
He laughs, "Oh yes, I can imagine. Were it not for my aversion to mornings, I'd join you just for the sight."
"You don't need to see it to know," You gesture your hands as you talk, "Every priest in the temple is talking of the newest way Saint Tommy's disrupted morning prayers. Most find it endearing but Sir Marshall has written multiple strongly worded letters, none of which Tommy had bothered to read."
"I read some of them," Tommy protested, "But he uses too many long words and they get boring quickly."
"That's fair, young saint," Sir Philza ruffles Tommy's hair, "If I read every letter sent to me, I would also stop reading them all at some point."
"Sir Philza," You stay, scandalized. Then your stomach feels inclined to rearrange itself and your vision blacks out from the pain. Tommy is being kept preoccupied from noticing by Sir Philza, who can tell just by looking at you how little time is left.
{《☆》}
He finds you sitting outside one day, staring into the sky. Your soul is weak, dim and dying. There is so much melancholy in this painted picture; a dying priest sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, staring at stars which are simultaneous dying and being reborn every second.
"Why did you let me live that day," You trace lines at the stars, memorizing the constellations' unique shine. You don't look over when you hear Sir Philza sit. "What did you see in me."
There's a pause before Sir Philza breaks it hesitantly, "You protected that young boy. You wanted to protect his pure soul, even though he was a stranger. You were unwavering, unstoppable."
"You let me live because I don't fear Death," You surmise because it's the only thing you can fathom.
"I let you live becauseyou fear Death," Sir Philza corrects, tone ever so soft, "If you hadn't feared Death I would think you a fool but… You protected Tommy even when you were afraid. You didn't hesitate, you didn't back down. Your kindness is rare and your strength even rarer."
"You flatter me," Your eyes settle down to your lap, embarrassed to hear such a spin on that story. In your memories, it had been sudden and quick. You had been afraid, very afraid actually. But you have never once regretted it and you wouldn't've even if you had actually died. "I have a lot to thank you for, Sir Philza,"
"At that moment, you looked like an immovable object," Sir Philza said, voice quiet like the admission was a secret. It's almost like he hadn't heard you. "You reminded me of Lady Death."
"That's a high compliment, Sir, really but…" You faltered, finally looking over at him. He was looking at you too, as if he was seeing through you, cradling your soul with his warm smile, like a parent holding their child. "I will miss this after I die."
Sir Philza's smile loses its warmth and he looks as sad as you feel, "I will miss this too. You are a special soul, young priest, and it's an honour to know you."
"I should be the one saying that," You laugh sadly, gazing back up at the stars. They shine extra bright tonight as if to say We see you too, we burn for you. "I have a selfish request to make."
"Anything," Sir Philza says, with no pause this time.
"I would like for you to be the last thing I see," You whisper, "You and Saint Tommy."
"If that's what you wish," Sir Philza says, voice oh so warm, oh so mourning, "Then it shall be so. I'll ask someone to fetch Tommy. You won't die alone."
"Thank you," You smile, feeling nothing but relief. Maybe you're a fool right now because you're not the slightest bit afraid.
{《☆》}
[Okay, this was supposed to be longer but I'm already late and also have to be up in like 4 hours so just pretend the jump of strangers to friends makes sense PLEASE]
[Anyways, please don't be me. Get sleep, lots of it. Oh and check out the PROMPT LIST OoOOohhHhHWwWweEEeEeEee]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars
If possible, and you can ignore this but continue the prince eret x little brother series. It would be so cool! But no pressure or anything :)
I am planning on continuing it, dw! It's just that I have a bit of a request list at the moment so it will be a bit before I can work on yours. Have a great day/night!
💜 DAY 3 OF MONSTER WEEK — DRAGON TOMMY
[900+ words]
[Gender-neutral]
Description: IN THE FREAKING TITLE. Tommy gets bullied, you help, forced bonding and also pure laziness, all under the cut *jazz hands*!
[Read the rest under the cut]
Things like dragons are widely considered myths, figments of our imagination with room for creative liberty when it comes to details. There are some people, though few and far between, who still believe in them, to an almost feverish degree.
You, like most, are not one of them. You've lived your entire life believing what's right in front of you, not feeling a need to search for some mystical deeper meaning. If it existed, you'd find proof eventually; if it didn't, you didn't care much to begin with.
It was a very flexible worldview. Maybe your open-mindedness for anything, this proof-begets-belief ideal, is why you've found yourself in this situation.
You were on your way to work, walking since you lived fairly close to your veterinary office when you came across of group of young school boys poking roughly at a tiny hissing animal. It looked sickly, bruises and leaves scattered over it and your heart instantly broke seeing its horrible state.
"Hey! Get away from that poor animal!" The second you started yelling, the kids scattered like the mice in the Ratatouille kitchen scene. You were going to chase after them, scold them maybe, when the animal's pitiful crying caught your attention. "Oh, you poor thing."
It cries out in pain when you try, as carefully as you could, to pick it up. You try to comfort it as much as you can, hurrying on your short walk to your office.
Now that you could see it better, it was less like a cat and more like an odd reptile. It felt around the same size as a young kitten but it was scaly, though from far away it seemed more like wet fur, with most of the scales being very, very loose as if someone had tried prying them all away from before it could properly molt.
You cooed at it, trying to one-handed open the doors to your clinic without disturbing the animal too much. "You're okay, bud. We're going to get you all fixed up." It mewled weakly, its tongue flicked at you slowly. "You are very brave right now. The bravest."
You kept very soft-spoken as you disinfected its numerous wounds. It was a very well-behaved animal as if it knew you were only trying to help it. You managed to even wipe most of the dirt off its very beautiful, very leathery texture, and vibrant yellow scaling.
It stretched itself out, curling into a very tightly-wound circle afterward. You took a few minutes to relax after that, knowing things would probably get far less exciting for the rest of the day.
{《☆》}
You were very wrong. The animal has left to leave your side even once, while simultaneously being very rude to all the other animals you've tried to take care of. You've had to close your clinic for the last two days because it almost attacked a very fearless chihuahua.
It wasn't horrible though. it was very cuddly, freely purring every time you pat its scaly back. In fact, it actively sought out contact, very pleased every time you played along.
Things had to change though. You needed to work and you knew you couldn't do that with a mysterious and aggressive animal draping itself over your shoulder at all times.
Surprisingly, you didn't have to be the one to change anything, change very rapidly found you.
{《☆》}
So, there was a strange man in your kitchen. You had woken up in the middle of the night to very loud banging and what sounded like a glass breaking. Looking around now, you could spot the broken handle of your favourite coffee mug.
"Y/N!," The blond intruder chirped happily. He dropped the corpse of your mug in the sink, "I have a human form finally! Look how tall I am!"
Finally breaking out of your shock, you started screaming. Very, very loudly.
Tommy, the blond intruder, managed to explain the entire story to you after surviving a very long 10-minute screaming session, a pair of policemen at your door asking far too many questions, and a mailman. According to him, he was a dragon who had been chased by poachers looking for his scales for some reason, when he had finally escaped the group of schoolboys had started poking at him and only made him weaker.
Apparently, he had siphoned off some of your energy every day, using your pets as a way to steal energy and in the process creating a bond between them that allowed him to take human form. You're still pretty iffy on the details and very much unsure how any of this works but after Tommy proves his story by shifting back into a dragon, you officially had to accept that you were bonded, whatever that meant, to a dragon.
Yay?
"So what now?" You asked because usually in stories, this would be where the call to action is. He would tell you about some evil organization or those dragon poachers would show up and you'd have to accept the mantle of being a hero. Except life isn't a story (wow, meta).
Tommy shrugs, "I'm not sure. I didn't really think I would make it this far into explaining."
"Can I just, go back to my job? Do I have to hide you until the bond goes away?" Tommy laughs at your questions. When you don't laugh with him, he gets far more awkward.
"About that," He rubs at his neck, "it's kinda permanent."
"…"
You lost another two mugs. Tommy has a far greater fear of you though, which helps keep him in check at the clinic.
{《☆》}
[I just wrote this all like 20 minutes ago, if this is bad then sucks to suck I refuse to rewrite this. (Ask again after I've had coffee)]
[Anyways, take care of yourself, drink water, touch some grass, love youuu!]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Monster Week Prompt List
Taglist: @creatorofstars
I WAS BORN IN SEPTEMBER IN ERASING SO NOW IT'S
Fine fine I guess I'll just not finish any of the fics I'm working on and just start writing monster au fics sigh
Bloody Lovers ❤
(1100+ words)
(They/Them Pronouns)
Description: You run a very illegal business. An up and coming rookie hero names "Kitsune" is messing things up though. You're interested in him, so you leave for your very own look at them. (FundyxReader)
(Warning: Very dubious consent relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, and kidnapping. The relationship in this is unhealthy.)
[Read the rest under the cut]
{《☆》}
You scan the report, taking in every place where your workers got interrupted. There were quite a few disruptions, which you'd have to take up with them. You couldn't allow them to keep repeating mistakes with such high profile work at risk.
Of course, you do realize a few of them were uncontrollable on their part. A new hero, a skilled rookie as far as your quick search could find, going by the name "Kitsune" was to blame.
A suitable name, you muse. What, with their foxy features. And of course, the ears and tails that you assumed were apart of their powers also helped the name. The hero had been relentless and ruthless.
So unlike a hero.
It was altogether intriguing. A hero unafraid to get their hands, or paws in their case, dirty. You smiled, thoroughly amused. This hero, an apprentice to Willow themselves, was just as interesting as you had hoped.
Maybe it was time to get out on the streets again. It has been so long since you've wondered from your luxurious throne but perhaps this could be worth it.
You laughed, staring down at the paperwork with a confident smile. You can't wait to get Kitsune's blood on your hands.
{《☆》}
They screamed beneath you, the terrified glint in their eyes feeding your bloodlust. A wayward mugger had chosen you as their next victim. Helpless and unaware of their oncoming demise. You laughed wildly, dragging a knife down their arm.
You could rip them apart, limb by limb now if you pleased. But where was the fun in that? Why would you end it there when things could get even more fun.
If your mother was here, she'd scold you for playing with your food. But she wasn't, and so you licked the blood of the knife as they trembled on the ground. Hm, it was a sickly sort. They were probably the type of person with a weak immune system. The disease flowing through their blood, a transmitted type, wasn't helping the sour taste.
"How sad," You mock sighed, like a disappointed parent. "You just had to be a bad apple, didn't you? Who knows, maybe if you had a better taste I would've let you live." They sobbed, begging on choked words.
You know that would never happen, but they didn't. You grinned and they screamed again as you stabbed them between a rib, cutting through their lung. You pulled the knife out and they seemed to choke on their own blood.
Standing, you wiped the blood off on their pants. The hero hadn't shown, and the shouting had been quite loud. Kitsune likely wasn't on duty.
Turning around, you came face to face with a shell-shocked bystander. They looked sick, their face a pretty pale sheet as they backed up. Before they could run, your rinkaku shot out as quick as lighting and wrapped around them. They struggled, and stronger than they looked but you were even stronger.
Smiling coldly down at them, you looked them over. "Why hello there. What is a pretty little thing like you doing here?"
What? They were unfairly pretty. A nice dark shade of red, with a pretty white streak through their hair and wide-eyed dark brown eyes. And maybe the terror in their eyes didn't help, but the rest of them was still pretty.
Maybe you could have another meal to make up for the last one being lacklustre. Grinning, you gave them a seconds warning. "Any complaints on being eaten?" Before cutting a thin slice on their cheek with your knife. They blanched, opening their mouth with a silent struggle.
You shushed them. Licking the blood off the knife, you were overwhelmed with one of the best-tasting blood you've had in a while. You practically moaned, greedily taking it away. They seemed thoroughly disturbed by your reaction, which was fair enough.
And unlike the other meal you had, you almost wanted to keep this one.
"Hm," You considered, gently grabbing their chin. They froze as you turned their face side to side. "I don't see why not. I'll keep you."
"Wha-What?" They spoke their first words to you, a shiny new voice that fits their pretty face. "Let me go! No-! Stop!"
"Hm, no." You said, pressing your knife to their neck. They froze, staring into your eyes with a worryingly calmer look. Certainly, they were interesting. In fact, they reminded you of someone. "Don't worry, you won't die yet."
It didn't seem to relax them, but they were certainly more complacent with the knife at their neck.
{《☆》}
Your newest pet project had taken a while, Kitsune certainly knew how to put up a fight. But you were stronger, both mentally and physically. And now here he was, putty in your hands.
To think you had found him so easily. And that he had such beautifully delicious blood. Truly, your luck was legendary.
"Fundy, darling," You call, beckoning him from his bedroom. He hurries over, almost tripping over himself to get to you. It was an amusing sight when barely a month ago he would be fighting you every chance he had.
You press a hand to his cheek, which he leans into heavily. Fundy places his hand over yours, staring up at you with an adoring look. Tiny cuts littered his body like freckles, but they all showed one thing. That he was yours. These marks showed that. And they'd never leave.
You smile, letting go of him. Quickly, he pulls up a chair and sits close. Fundy practically has your arm in his grasp, leaving you with only your left to do your work. It's slightly annoying but you'd rather have him here with you, stupidly in love in your arms than have him fighting against you.
You'd hate to have to kill him. It'd be an easy decision to make if you had to, but you would still dislike the idea of losing such a great find.
Although with how deeply he's fallen, it's unlikely you'd ever have to risk that. Fundy was so good for you, falling deeper into the rabbit hole with every touch you let linger. So good, in fact, you might start testing that love.
Release him. See if he comes back.
It's a tad bit risky but you know that despite his love for you, he misses his friends. If you let him go back with them for a few hours, you could test his loyalty. It would be so easy to get one of your teleporting workers to fetch him if he decided to stay.
Yes. You would. Picking a knife off the table, you turned to Fundy. With a pleased smile, Fundy gave you his arm. But you wouldn't need that when he was so easy to give. To love. You smiled back.
{《☆》}
[Next post is a Dream post and then I shall disappear for a year /j.]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Grim Reaper 💛
(He/Him pronouns)
(Realistic dsmp)
(1000+ words)
Description: Lady Death asks you to care for her favoured's son. Tommy is begrudgingly easy to get attached to.
[Read more under the cut]
{《☆》}
"No! Please! I'm not ready-!"
"To die yet, I have so much to live for." You roll your eyes, pointing your scythe at the trembling man's neck. "I've heard it all before. I'm not here to give mercy, all threads must be cut eventually and you, mortal, are no exception."
He screams, withering in pain as you press your scythe closer and his souls separates from his body. A shadow of the man, you easily slice through them and send them to the aether.
Unequipping your scythe, you take a moment to stretch your wings before you give two strong pushes and get thrown into the air. Flapping your wings, you raise yourself above the clouds and start gliding more leisurely.
The sun shines in your eyes, casting a soft glow against the milky white clouds that cover the sky aplenty. Your raven black wings contrast sharply against the pastel colouring of day, your connection to Lady Death.
A gift, she said one day. To the son I never had.
You had devoted yourself to her that day. Now, every day of your semi-immortal life is lived to serve Death. It is a life you will never give up, willingly or unwillingly.
Y/N, she softly calls. It reverberates in your chest, and you swoop down instantly. It's a sharp fall, but you pull up barely and are through the narrow cave entrance. Find me, my child.
The portal, in all of its golden glory, stands looming above you. It only takes a second to get there, only two to be transported to Lady Death, and another to drop to a knee as she smiles gently at you.
Next to her stands another winged man. His wings are a more gentle green, with darker feathers spread throughout his secondaries. Their bucket hat, striped green and white, swivels as the man turns to look at you.
It is the man from the paintings. Philza, The Angel of Death, as his title is officially known.
You narrow your eyes, glancing up at Lady Death. She tilts her head and you take it as a cue to stand. Philza gives you a tight smile, turning back to Lady Death.
"Kristen, please. He wasn't-, Tommy shouldn't have died."
You flinch at his common use of her name. Philza really is as close to Death as the stories depict. But he is still foolish for wishing to reconnect the thread that has already been worn thin with death.
It is not your place to decide who lives and who dies. She firmly rebuffs, sympathy still etched onto her immortal features. But if this mortal truly is that important, I can have Y/N look over them.
You keep your face impasse, even if part of you wants to disagree. You do a majority of Lady Death's work so that she can focus on her husband, but she still spends so much time on building up souls. It's odd for you to even think of doing anything else.
Philza frowns, anger and understanding deep-set in his tense shoulders. He spares you a glance, accessing you most likely.
In any other scenario, you wouldn't even entertain this thought. But this mortal is special to him, and therefore to Lady Death. You will treat him only kindly.
You give Lady Death a small bow and take off towards The Land of The Dead.
{《☆》}
"OH FUCK OFF!"
You land in the centre of a gym, a small section of the Land of The Dead. It smells sweaty and emotionally repressed, so you look around for the boy who you've been assigned to watch.
The group of men, an odd group, watch you. One, in shock. They're young. Likely your charge. Another two in amusement, one wears a mask and another wears a worn trench coat. The last, a hybrid ram who eyes you with a neutral glance and goes back to their beer.
You step forward, bowing to the blond who steps back towards Trench Coat. "TommyInnit, Lady Death has assigned me as your charge."
"What the hell?" They yell, the brunet wrapping an arm around them protectively. You blink, mortals were so finicky.
"Have I upset you?" You ask, eyeing the one glaring daggers at you. "It wasn't my intention. I am merely here on behalf of Lady Death and her favoured."
They blink aggressively at you, anger seems to be their main solution. Definitely leads back to the emotional repression you had sensed a mile away. "Her favoured?"
You purse your lips, furrowing your brows at the ground. "You mortals refer to him as Philza Minecraft?"
"Dad...?" They mutter quietly. You nod along despite not understanding fully. "Would you like to go see him?"
Tommy scowled. "No."
"Okay," You pause, unsure of what to do. Handling mortals has never been your job, only collecting their souls. The others have gone about their own business, but the brunet glances at you a lot. Its uncomfortable, you want to get out of here. "Would you like to go for a flight?"
That makes them pause. They tilted their head, watching you with bright blue eyes. Then, they shrug. "Why not."
{《☆》}
You left him for an hour to help with soil collection and he gets revived.
You are done with humanity. But sadly, you've gotten attached to the tiny human who enjoys head pats and rain.
"My lady," You bow. "I know now that Tommy is alive, my mission to watch over him is done but..."
Lady Death grins. You've finally gotten attached to a human. And one of Phil's!
You frown as she giggles, giddy. She smiles gently at you when she's done. Of course you can go. I'm glad you found someone you can call a friend.
"Thank you," You rise, smiling awkwardly. Humanity is strange but now you were going to deal with it on the daily. "I will be sure to check in regularly."
It's not hard at all to hop between world. What will be difficult is finding Tommy when you arrive.
{《☆》}
[i promised this like 3 days ago lol. all men do is lie sadge... anyway i have a technoblade one next and then a platonic tubbo and ranboo one. hopefully I'll remember to post the techno one on Wednesday at 6pm bst ]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
❤ Destiny
[600+ words]
[GN!Reader]
Summary: Everyone is born with words on their wrist, words their soulmate will say to them someday. You have the words "I love you" written in golden cursive on your wrist. (Dream x Reader)
You have grown up fearing the words "I love you". When your first boyfriend says it to you for the first time, you start crying. The relationship didn't end up lasting long but in every relationship you've had, it ends not too long after they say they love you.
You can't say the words back. Not because you don't love them, you always have, but trying to force the words out of your throat only brings vile, disgusting throw-up clawing its way out of your mouth.
Nothing about that ever changed when you got into your most recent relationship. You got the same chest-squeezing fear the first time Dream said "I love you" except after hearing your explanation, he didn't leave. He promised you never to leave saying "I love you" so that you never had to be scared of something bad happening.
Until it did.
You have never trusted someone as much as you have Dream, he is a sweetheart, he cares so deeply, and he loves you in the most honest way you've ever had anyone love you. He's the first person you've ever told you loved, and he's the one you're most scared of losing.
You wanted so desperately for him not to be your soulmate, only so you never had to lose him. But life doesn't always work out that way.
You were walking home together after dining out at a local pizza place, hands swinging together as you walked. It's such a peaceful night, a full moon shining down from above.
"We should eat out more often," Dream sighed happily. "I've never had better pizza."
That was pretty true but, "You said you were going to diet with Nick," You point out. Dream groans, pouting dramatically at you. "You can't just abandon him. He needs you."
"That pizza needs me!" Dream shakes his head with a laugh. "But fine, maybe another time. When he drops it in a week, we can all go together."
You try to hide your fond smile, "You're the reason his diets don't work out."
"Oh please," Dream scoffs. He then pauses and nods, "Yeah no, that's actually pretty true. But I have helped him work out so it evens out."
You giggle at his cute pouty face. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe."
Dream can't even pretend to look mad, cheeks flushed at the nickname. He coughs, "I picked last time right? What movie do you wanna see today?"
"Maybe Coraline. I haven't watched it in a few months, I kinda miss the funky little clay people," Dream pouts again at your words.
"Hey, I'm the only little Clay person you need."
You press twin kisses to his freckled cheeks. "Of course, you are, babe."
You're both laughing as you walk down the street. All you can see is his face, his smile, and the way the moon bounces off his hair. Headlights light up every freckle, every strand of his stubble. There is nothing but Dream, his wide eyes, and you.
And then he's pushing you. You fall hard on your back, pushing yourself up instantly and staring, misty-eyed, at the car that's speeding past Dream's still body.
You can't remember much. You know you had started screaming only because people started pouring out onto the street. You do remember holding Dream's hand, carefully cradling his face. You were probably crying.
His eyes fluttered open for only a second and he smiled, teeth bloody, the second he saw your face. After a second of open-mouthed silence, his voice croaked out quietly. "I love you."
You don't remember anything more from the night. Dream didn't make it. You were gone soon after.
{《☆》}
[Whoops, forgot to mention it was "Last thing your soulmate says to you" AU. My bad. Anyway, Dream is my little meow meow. He might've lied about being blonde and his freckles but honestly I had no expectations (my mental image of him is still a blob, ngl).]
[Tell me any other sad prompts you have, I might end up writing them, who knows :)]
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Taglist: @creatorofstars @hiwhatsupbruv
𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.
{《☆》}
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴. "𝘚𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦."
𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. "𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦."
{《☆》}
CHAPTER 3 IS OUT!!!
:D
[L0v3, k1ng]
Hear me out. Vampire hunter Wilbur getting jealous ur fangs r in someone else’s neck and not his
I don't know if you sent me this ask twice or if you and another Anon share a brain but rest assured I will absoloutely do this I love a good trope reversal and enemies to loves, I SWOON!
[L0v3, k1ng]
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.
{《☆》}
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴. "𝘚𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦."
𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. "𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦."
{《☆》}
CHAPTER TWO IS OUT !!
The schedule is now set to once a week, every saturday! :3
[L0v3, k1ng]