Crazy thought, guys, but um Among Us x tf141? Erm, this could be because I've been reading Fear of God by @ceilidho (go read it, its lit), but I don't know much about eltrich horrors, so instead, you're getting Amogus.
So the first concept I'd like to explore is reader as the imposter. Super nervous, but still trying to fulfill their duties.
You had been trying to sabotage the crew mates at every turn, but somehow, it felt like you were the victim in all of this. Soap wouldn't stop following you around, yapping about something you couldn't even pretend to hear. Foam filled your brain when you thought about how you were going to do your tasks and mess up as many as possible. You heard his voice fade out in the background. Hopefully, he'd given up his daily chirping to you and started on Gaz. You had more important things to do than be swept up in his eager conversation.
A shadow eclipsed your path.
"Y'alright, hen? Lookin' a bit pale." Soap's face invaded your personal space as he bent down to examine you. You couldn't turn neutral fast enough. His eyes had already found what they needed to. It was easy to forget how perceptive he was with the laidback show he put on for you.
Could he see the sweat on the side of your neck? Were your ears turning red?
You didn't know, but now he did. It seemed irrelevant, but any minute detail of yours was stored in a large mental filing cabinet he had marked just for you. And your physical reactions? Very relevant.
You brushed him off, mumbling an excuse about having some tasks to do, which was true enough.
After your first kill, you started spiraling. It's not like you cared about the person you killed. You just regretted how the spotlight swiveled onto you almost immediately. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost had such a strong bond. They had no room to doubt one another. Which left you and a few other crew mates. How was it possible for such a simple job to turn into a nerve-wracking challenge?
It was like they could hear your internal monologuing, your repeated reminders to stay calm, and do what you were here to do. It was anxiety-riddling and humiliating. You were supposed to be causing them trouble. Yet, you found yourself in a position akin to a rat in a maze. You knew your way around, but there was someone above you who could see your every move.
You started towards Electrical, ready to mess up some wires. It wasn't a hard task, but the thought of those blue eyes on you or that silent mammoth - "Ghost," they called him - following you in the shadows, even though he wasn't an imposter, it scattered your thoughts. You opened an electrical panel, concentrating on the colors, hoping that sabotage would clear your mind.
"Blue goes with blue, love." You slammed the panel shut, your entire body stiffening as a deep voice admonished you from behind.
"Ah, John. Yeah. Sorry, so tired lately. My bad." Your words were choppy and breathy, unbelievable even to your ears. Practiced lines didn't come off as natural in person. You rewired your work, putting everything properly in place - unfamiliar movements.
You turned around to find John less than a foot away from you. You avoided eye contact and made a move to skirt around him. He gave you no space to.
"Go take a nap, sweetheart. Sure you'll feel better then." A command.
You nodded to appease him, expecting him to move out of the way and disappear into the shadows. But no. Price walked you to your room, silently matching your pace. Your own personal warden.
You shut your room door without looking back at him. Your nails dug into your skin. How could you fail such a simple task? How could you get caught?
You'd have to make up for it later. After your nap.
Crazy thought, guys, but um Among Us x tf141? Erm, this could be because I've been reading Fear of God by @ceilidho (go read it, its lit), b
Amongus x 141 is def not something I should be thinking bt as much as I am but erm emergency meeting w them when youre the imposter...
You dropped your spoon when blaring red lights, and deafening sirens went off. An emergency meeting. The creamy pink substance that was about to enter your mouth splattered across the table. Great. No yogurt for you. But maybe it was better that way. You felt like you were going to puke up what very little you had in your stomach.
These days, being the imposter was getting more and more difficult. Sure, the tasks were the same, and you'd argue you were getting faster at sabotaging the others, but those four guys... They were everywhere.
When you were walking the halls, looking for blind spots, Ghost appeared in your peripheral. When you just wanted something to eat, Soap materialized out of nowhere and insisted on joining you. When you were coming out of the damn bathroom, Gaz was conveniently walking by and stopping for a chat. When you were in the middle of mucking up a task, the worst of them all, Price, caught you.
You couldn't do anything without a pair of eyes on you. And now an emergency meeting was called. Was this the end of your road?
All of you circled around the middle table in the caf, scrambling around like headless chickens. Except for them. Always them.
"I have something to report!" One of the crew mates announced. You kept your eyes steady but couldn't stop your jaw from tightening. At times like this, it was best to stay silent. Nobody had suspected you so far, and you'd been so nice to everybody, keeping a friendly demeanor and everything, so maybe you were fine, or maybe they had-
"Go on, who is it?" You startled at the gravely voice next to you. It wasn't necessary to turn your head. You knew who it was. Price.
When had he gotten there?
You turned away from him, a subconscious act of nerves. Grey fabric filled your vision. Your eyes flitted up quickly, once again, your nerves acting up and betraying your blank face (as blank as you could get it). Ghost's eyes bored down into your face.
Trapped.
A rat in a cage. That's what you were.
"I saw Rodney going to Eletrical the other night, looking around like someone was going to catch him doing something sketchy."
Your chest deflated as soon as someone else's name entered this dog pit. Small mercies.
The accuser and the accusee went back and forth, spitting curses and recountings of the night. You just watched, a slither of satisfaction mending your rattled thoughts back in place.
"All right, so are we all in agreement? Rodney is the imposter?" Gaz's voice cut through the others' squabbling. It was a wonder how his tone managed to remain upbeat despite the tense air.
It was probably because he knew. He knew what you were, he'd talked with Price and Soap and Ghost, and they all knew. How could they not? They'd been watching you all this time, and they probably saw you messing up tasks, and darting your eyes, and-
"We can't have him on board." Ghost's tone was dictatorial. It wasn't a suggestion or a question. It was an instruction to everybody present. Rodney couldn't be on board. Because he was the imposter.
"What- what do you think we should do?" Stacy glanced around to the others, checking if they felt as uneasy about this as she did.
You did.
What were these men planning?
"He needs to be let go. Simple. Can't have somebody on board who's trying to sabotage the rest of us, can we?" Price said. And all of a sudden, like a disgusting virus, his sentiments spread through the rest of the crew mates.
Something you had noticed from day one was the effect Price had on others. He was almost hypnotic with the way he spun words. Magnetic with the way he attracted others and kept them right where he wanted them. Dangerous with the way his ideologies quickly became everybody's.
"Alright, let's open the door then." A simple phrase. It could have meant anything in any other context. But right here, right now, it meant one thing. You were all sending Rodney to his death in outer space.
Soap and Ghost grabbed Rodney by the arms, he was no match for those hulking figures. What about you? Could you fight them if they wanted to throw you to the dark abyss? Could you use your words to gain a few more moments of life?
No, you couldn't.
That was the conclusion you came up with as Soap and Ghost's eyes peered over Rodney's flailing figure to stare at your trembling body. Like blue novas, their eyes spelled beauty, and destruction.
Everybody watched as Rodney was dragged to the outer chamber, following like sheep in a herd. Soap and Ghost locked him in, and then Price unlocked the door connected to the room. Rodney floated out like a piece of paper, inconsequential and weightless.
The others dispersed as soon as possible, not wanting to watch a former friend drift away. Did they believe he was the imposter? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was too late.
You stood a few feet away from Price, unsure of who to blame. They were the judges, the jury, and the executioners. They killed Rodney.
Yet, you created the doubt, the suspicion, the paranoia. You killed Rodney.
"So glad that nightmare is over, bonnie." Soap saddled up to you, looking oddly refreshed.
"No more trouble on board." Gaz smiled next to Soap, smiling like he'd just returned from a spa day.
"How can you both be..." Be what? Your question trailed off. Were you feeling guilt? Were you scared of how ruthless they were?
No. You were scared you were next.
"S'alright, love. Just getting rid of dead weight." Price's heavy hand fell on your shoulder, lacking any reassurance that he probably didn't even mean to give you.
"The imposter..." You whispered.
"Not quite." Ghost's deep grunt echoed from behind you.
If you were the imposter... what the hell were they?
