Hello! Iām Chaos or Meg! I post my own art and writings here, in addition to reblogging othersā. Focus for my writings is mostly gender neutral sfw stuff, but Iām willing to write gender specific for a request. Please check my list and tags for the egos before making a request. I reserve the right to choosing if I take the request or not.Ā
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By the Scruff of Your Neck OR Acquisitive consideration
Summary: You wake up to something behind you. Unfortunately, you already know what it is
Pairing: Antisepticeye x reader
Word count: 1.38k
A/N: Anti's characterization in this fic is inspired by my mootie @no-b4rk-only-bite. I can't write the atmosphere as well as you, and I'm sure I butchered him a bit, I made stuff up as I went for ~cool effects~ but uh... both content and a gift at once so uh, no take-backs! For any of my regular readers finding this, this'll be a tad different from my usual writing, or at least that was my aim. Or maybe it's literally the same because I'm bad at analyzing my own writing styleā
If you want more Anti content like this, here is Bite's origin story for you and Anti, and in the reblog of this post you'll find a (very excellent might I say) visualization on how Anti's body works
TW: Anti is possessive but also doesn't care about you enough to be nice to you? Think Anti in the IRIS related content
You woke up in the middle of the day with your back hurting.
In the middle of the day, because you were having a night shift today, your blinds drawn and the flimsy curtains closed as much as possible. Honestly, you were surprised your cheap apartment had curtains in the first place.
Back hurting because of the body pressed against it. If one thing was certain, it was the fact that that thing had a body. Or more like owned? You could never be sure if he took it from somebody or made it himself in the image of actual people. There was no denying that he was the furthest thing from a person. You figured that much since he never let you ask a lot. Unless you wanted it to end badly. You didn't, but with someone as volatile as him, it was unavoidable.
You shifted a bit to hopefully get into a less painful position for your back, but it proved an impossible task. His ribs were digging into the flesh of your back no matter how you positioned yourself. Since he was currently dormant, the flesh-adjacent mass, which usually cushioned his ribs, had retreated into itself. It's not like it was a hard rule that it did that when he was sleeping yet it happened sometimes.
You could best compare the sinking tissue to being submerged in a body of water. You weren't so sentimental as to equate him to the ocean and such, but it was a practical analogy. If your hand is underwater and you move it down slowly, the water lets you, gently keeping its pressure around the foreign object it is encasing. Allowing it to move. But as soon as you want to move it faster or use any sort of pressure, the water resists. It's harder to move, yet it is the same water. Where water diverges from him is that it acts that way with everything, and he can do so at will. His flesh is a twisted thing, just like his character. Origin as mysterious as his. Rising, falling, sticking.
It wasn't a perfect comparison, after all, his flesh could turn firmer than water ever could. Unless you include ice in the definition. But that would be too much when for him. You hoped.
Due to his many visits, you unfortunately already recognized patterns in the undulating of the mass. It had been around a year after all. Even a rabbit will start to notice when a fox is grooming itself instead of stalking around its den. Not necessarily for its survival but simply as recognition of behavioral patterns. Purely because the rabbit has nothing to do except wait when the fox will pounce back at the opening of its living space.
His forearms have had their resting place somewhere between your stomach and chest since he had first decided on this whole ā¦ mandatory co-sleeping habit. When he didn't opt for having you pinned on his chest, this was a common place his hands ended up. You haven't yet been able to figure out why it was particularly there, but you knew there was some purpose to it. He was anything but unintentional.
Due to the positioning, your attention was brought to his arms with every breath you took. Even with the limited lightning (your curtains were still cheap), you could see the dark hairs on his forearms, contrasting his pale skin. You never understood why he would even choose to have body hair. To blend in with his prey more? You doubted he actually needed it, but maybe he figured the lack of it would draw attention. His nails were dull this time, still black but not at their claw-like shape when his skin starts turning inside out and that... liquid starts showing. He was sleeping after all. As much as a thing like him can sleep. Sleep and not let go of the toy in his arms. Actually, that description was generous.
When you were held by him, it led your thoughts to winter. Particularly to that time around the holidays. His grasp more akin to a child who begged their parents for a kitten or a puppy. A child who need only ask, and they'll get whatever they want. And due to that, the defenseless animal who had known nothing else in its life gets grabbed, yanked, and dragged around. Lifted by the scruff of its neck at the fickle whims of the child.
But at the very least, an animal can eventually defend itself. A kitten gains claws, and a puppy teeth. If that does not work, then as it ages and loses the cuteness that had made it appealing, the child loses interest, and the abuse stops. You have neither. No means of defending yourself from the thing that invaded on what little freedom in your life you used to have. No luxury of the possibility of starting to be ignored. On the contrary, it seemed that with the passage of the months, since he had forced you to stalk him, his hold on you had only tightened. He wants to keep you close. No matter what you do.
You should probably try to fall asleep, but with his ribs digging into you, you may not have much success. It's strange, somewhere along the road of despair that was his introduction (more like intrusion) to your life, you had started having fewer nightmares. Before that... you stopped counting. It can not be due to the account of you feeling safer. That would be laughable. Feeling safe during any time in your life? With that thing, especially? No. A more probable and actually realistic explanation was that the nightmares have migrated to your waking hours. By his doing. Nightmare incarnate.
"Puppet."
Albeit familiar by this point, the shiver that creeped down the length of your spine from his voice directly in your ear debilitated you every time. His arms tightened around you. Not unbearably so, just to make a point.
"You're not sleeping." His tone could be taken as the murmur of someone who had just woken up. But he was never one to wake up slowly.
"You know," he continued in that signature sing-song of his, "if you're not gonna sleep, you're gonna be hallucinating at work."
His chin shifted slightly along the top of your head, a cat rubbing its head against you to spread its scent. His body was taller than you. You suspected it was by design. He seemed like the kind of being to want to use it to his advantage. Though in the end, tall or not tall, it would not diminish all that he was. Unsettling at his best and at his worstā¦
"You like it better when it's me doing it, right? Not your sleep deprivation."
Your throat tightened. He wasn't doing it nearly as much as he used to in the beginning, before he'd first shown himself to you. You'd thought that he would stop doing it completely. Silly you, getting hopeful again. When will you finally quit?
"But," he started, popping the 't' sound, your hair jerking with the puff of air, "I will be busy. So I can't be there to fill in this time. So, sleep." His voice radiated calm certitude. You wouldn't dare not listen (would you?).
Was he seriously going to be jealous of the possibility of you hallucinating due to something other than him? You couldn't even have torment generated from your brain. No, everything had to come from him. Day and night, no escape. This child is never getting rid of the pet it had caught, grip never loosening, pet never resisting.
His grip did, in fact, tighten, pulling you against him more than he did when he was dormant. You stiffened, bracing for dull sharpness. But... you couldn't feel his ribs anymore. You weren't able to turn around due to how close he was holding you now, but you didn't feel them. Only that pseudo-flesh of his. That softer state of it. The depth of water when you wade through it slowly. Not consideration exactly (he would never be capable of that)... but your body did relax for the first time since you'd woken up, and your eyes did start to feel heavier.
Headcanons for Host, Author, and Bim Trimmer please? š„°
Also I would be VERY interested in another MFM this October š
- šāØ Anon (I hope this emoji combo isnāt claimed, Iām kinda new to anon asks heheh)
Another unclaimed combo! If I get like, a couple more specific emoji anons I'll make a list or something. These are kinda canon-continued headcanons, not my specific versions that I tend to write in my yume stuff. Not that I'd be opposed to writing them. These may be more the ones I use in horror prompts. š
Host:
Lives in a lighthouse that was then turned into a library for him
He uses a radio to monitor nearby ships and uses his abilities to get boats safely to the shore during storms
When there aren't ships nearby, he listens to police scanners to get ideas for his books
I choose to believe that Host and Author have almost an Alan Wake sort of relationship
Author is a man of nightmares who sometimes goes as far to possess Host in order to write the stories where he's allowed to carry out his blood lust
Author:
Was a real murderer who died in a ritual to connect his soul to a demonic entity
Said ritual required a human sacrifice but the police shot him fatally before he could kill his victim
Now he can become corporeal for short periods of time unprompted, but uses Host to allow him to wander for longer periods of time
Host was the intended victim and that is how he lost his eyes
Bim:
Uses the Jims to help him find new contestants for his games
The Jims are omnipotent unstoppable beings and you cannot convince me otherwise
As much as he tries not to get too terribly gorey, it's so tempting when he knows it just makes their flesh that much more sweet
He certainly makes a LOT of money from rich clients wanting to see worse and worse things on their televisions
*approaches you reluctantly and holds out a basket with a hello kitty bow on the handle*
Necromancer, God of Night and/or Murdock headcanons pretty pleasešššš
-šš„ anon(if the emoji combo isnt taken)
Oooooh my favorite fucked up boys, and no it isnāt taken! I donāt have many emoji anons. Off the top of my head I have like, three or four emoji anons.
Necromancer:
He's a necromancer, so I choose to believe he's also a lich so he doesn't actually die after the events of The Mystic Crystal
His phylactery is actually the crystal around his neck, which is a really durable type of pink sapphire that he has enchanted with a few things
There is very little that brings him joy more than causing problems
To a degree it is a form of revenge for being cast out of the kingdom as a young mage
As soon as you start showing him soft love, he stops trying to terrorize other people so much
God of Night:
Absolutely full of himself, but you can't really blame him? He is responsible for like, half the day
He has scars and tattoos beyond the spiral on his eye, and they glow when he has certain emotions like Hades' hair flaring in Hercules
His tattoos and scars turn blue during certain lunar events, like full moons, blue moons, blood moons, etc.
During eclipses, his markings glow gold as his powers get too strong for his blood to contain
Often prayed to for rain as the moon controls the oceans
Murdoch:
Fucked up and evil man
Borders on obsessive when it comes to his job, definitely a perfectionist
Hates to leave a place messy unintentionally
Has a greenhouse out back as an excuse for buying hydrogen peroxide in bulk
The greenhouse is also where he buries some of the bodies of the ones he needs to get information out of
The hydrogen peroxide is to clean the blood out of his clothes
Very Dexter vibes except he's far less picky with his targets
I updated my requests page to include more egos and moved some up as ones I think I can write now. Iām really in a headcanon mood and if anyone wants me to do batch headcanons (multiple egos) I will love you forever.
Do you have any headcanons about how Robbie the zombie may act when he's jealous?
Oooooh Robbie headcanons
Heās not one to be necessarily loud? about his jealousy?
His overall frame makes him already quite intimidating so he tends to use that to his advantage
While you may find it comforting when he looms over you as you sit at a coffee shop or wherever, heās usually glaring down the person ogling you like a predator finally finding his prey
I choose not to believe he gets jealous all the time, as usually anyone interested in you romantically takes the hint and clears out, so those who do approach you tend to be seeking connection he doesnāt perceive as threatening
He also trusts you so itās not like heās super possessive, he has enough general detachment from humans and self respect to walk away if needed
But on the spare chance someone decides to throw a flirt your way, he will make it abundantly clear you are his human and he is not a zombie to be trifled with
not to be the drowned man mark guy asking for drowned man mark headcanons but can we have drowned man mark headcanons? There's so little content of him :c
NO PLEASE BE THE DROWNED MAN MARK GUY, I LOVE IT WHEN Y'ALL COME IN MY INBOX AND ONLY ASK ABOUT ONE GUY. Because then I get a few of you that just ask for your little guys and I feel like the mom at a soccer meet giving out specific snacks that she remembers her son's friends like.
Anyways. My headcanons for this guy.
After the events of The Drowned Man, he actually gains more calls for his skills as a medium
With enough success, he opens his own little supernatural storefront in a quiet town where they hold seances in the back
Whether he actually believes in the spirit realm is a whole separate thing, but he doesnāt necessarily think heās tricking people into believing, shit just happens
He is the younger brother of Murdoch (Murderiplier) who he sometimes works with to exorcise the spirits of the people his brother killed
He wears red tinted glasses at all times due to a specific eyesight problem (like his brother) and forgets constantly that heās wearing them
The constant mentions of blood is due to the two of them growing up by a lake and him having nightmares of the lake being filled with blood from wearing his glasses
Big into astrology but not in the fortune telling way but in a fangirling of star formations way
