As It Says, This Was A Request...but I Definitely Should Have Checked The Account First So.. I Might

The hero who lost it

Ivan!

He has so much backstory

Must Be Something In The Water - Smile 2 Alternate Ending/Continuation

Chapter 1

The screams were deafening. Loud enough to drown out the blaring ringing feedback from the microphone.

The very same microphone that was now grotesquely smashed into Skye Riley’s face, the entire right half covered in blood and other unidentifiable flesh.

As the puddle of blood continued to grow around the now completely still pop star, the entire crowd abruptly surged backwards, as if just beginning to come out of a trance.

And then the true panic began.

It was a free for all, and every single person in the auditorium was scrambling, dashing, and dragging their ways past each other and through the sea of terrified concert goers in an attempt to escape the horrifying scene that had played out before them.

Not everyone was darting for the exits, however. There were still several people (whether it be the morbidly curious, or the devastated family and friends of Skye) that had stayed behind and were now instead rushing towards the stage towards the dead pop singer.

Elizabeth rushed forwards, her daughter’s name in her mouth as she screamed, immediately hopping over the small divider fence and immediately moving to climb up onto the stage where her child had been standing only moments ago. Back when all of her blood was still inside her body.

Elizabeth tore through the small crowd of security guards, police officers, a few concerned concert goers, backup dancers and a few friends of Skye’s.

“Move!!! Jesus MOVE!!” She screamed at them, her voice breaking as she approached her daughter’s still form.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the crowd parted enough that Elizabeth could rush through, and was immediately taken aback once she reached her.

Skye’s face (smeared with still-warm blood) was drawn in a tight smile, her one remaining eye completely empty.

Elizabeth froze, feeling as though her heart had just been shattered, ripped apart into tiny pieces, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Before she could stop herself, she keeled over and vomited on the now bloodstained stage.

A strong, tough figure rushed to her side, kneeling beside her as the crowd closed once again, pushing Elizabeth to the outskirts. Several people were frantically calling 911, requesting for aid and medical attention.

Elizabeth knew better.

Her daughter, no matter how much she wanted her to be alive, was not there anymore.

She gagged again, and she felt a hand lightly touch her back, before a pair of arms tugged her to her feet and embraced her.

When had she started crying? She found she couldn’t tell.

And who was screaming like that?? Oh wait. That was also her.

Her hands found their way around the strong figure’s torso, hands latching onto the back of their shirt and squeezing.

The night moved like a blur.

One moment, there was a crowd on the stage, and she was in the middle of it, then she was sprinting out after a group of paramedics who were frantically trying to pack Skye’s wounds, injecting her with adrenaline, and performing CPR on her body. Elizabeth knew that it was a futile and hopeless attempt. Skye was gone, and she found that she could quite literally not process that thought.

The last thing she had said to her daughter was encouragement to smile. To get out there on the stage and have fun, relax, perform. Sing her heart out, and dance, and enjoy her life and her success.

A sudden realization dawned on Elizabeth as she was frantically climbing into the passenger seat of the escort vehicle.

Skye had begged her to not have to perform.

She had said she wasn’t ready. That she was scared and that she felt like she was going crazy.

And how did she react??

She had called her daughter a selfish spoiled brat.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, another gut wrenching sob tearing its way from her throat as the van pulled away, quickly moving to catch up to the ambulance that carried her daughter.

“The sirens are still on,” the driver was saying in a panicked voice. “They only keep the lights and sirens on if there is a chance at survival. If they had declared her dead, the sirens would be off.”

“My baby…” she found herself sobbing, leaning into the arms of that same strong figure that she had held her moments ago on the stage. “My beautiful girl…” Glancing up with watery tear filled eyes, she found that it was Darius who was embracing her still.

She couldn’t make herself care enough to stop crying.

——•——-

A few yards away, within the ambulance that was still barreling its way through traffic on the way to the hospital, was a group of paramedics, all frantically trying to regain a pulse within the now flatlining pop star.

The woman on the table was small, much shorter than most, and inherently beautiful. All of them could see and knew it, but there was just something… off. About the way her face looked. Something about that horrible smile that had been stuck to the star’s face since she had struck herself with the microphone.

One paramedic clipped open the girl’s outfit, exposing the upper half of her chest. Another two were carefully and delicately removing the microphone from her face, and then trying to pack the wound full of antiseptic and gauze.

The third was preparing the defibrillators to shock life back into the lifeless girl.

“Hands off, everyone back!!!” The paramedic yelled, and immediately, everyone stepped away from her. “Clear!” He shouted, pressing the machines against her chest and causing her entire body to jolt with the electrical current. The flatline tone continued.

Everyone held their breath. This was it. If she didn’t regain a heartbeat after the third shock to the heart, she would be pronounced dead.

“Clear!!” The paramedic shouted once again, pressing the defibrillators back against her skin and causing her body to jump once again with the shock. The flatline droned on.

Two paramedics grabbed each others hands, squeezing them tightly.

“Come on now dammit!!” The paramedic shouted, charging the defibrillators one final time. “Clear!!” The man yelled, his voice brimming with desperation as he pressed the machines against her skin again. She convulsed once again, and the flatline continued.

Everyone went silent, everyone’s hearts heavy with the realization that there was no saving Skye Riley.

The famous pop star was dead. She was officially dead.

Everyone lowered their heads, two of the paramedics even allowing a few tears to stream down their cheeks.

“…Call it,” the lead paramedic said, and another looked down at his watch.

“Time of death: 7:24 pm, Octob-“

*beep.*

Everyone silenced immediately, all eyes flickering up to the heart monitor.

*beep.*

Another small beep echoed in the silent ambulance.

*beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.*

The machine let out a few small uneven beeps before finally regaining a rhythm once again, and slowly but surely picking up speed.

Every paramedic was silent before they all turned their eyes back towards each other, relief etched into all of their expressions.

“Oh Jesus Christ, it’s a miracle,” one of them mumbled with a soft laugh.

they're like married or something

oh look I made another one of my charaters queer coded

I don't remember much lore of this charater because I made him so many years ago, but I believe he is some sort of ant demon that likes to mess with the multiverse. 

The amount of fandoms I could list that are worse than the dsmp lmao

people who think the dsmp fandom is toxic would not have lasted a day in the voltron fandom

ok but hear me out,,,,,,, them as qpps

I absolutely adore your work and was wondering if you could do some terrifying monster under the bed protecting a kid from his horrible parents??

tw: child abuse

Child let out a horrified sob and scrambled to slam the door behind him. Tears flooded down his cheeks and they desperately tried to nudge his bookcase in front of the door, hearing the sound of his parents footsteps hammering up the steps.

His father’s violent shouts, accompanied by his mother’s equally as vicious words.

He used all of his weight until they were sure enough the door was covered, before darting over to his bed as bangs resounded against the wood.

“Open the door!” His father screamed, his fists smacking against the wood and shaking it terribly. Child once again fumbled on his feet, knees weak, trying to find someplace to hide.

He could hear the vile promises his parents were making, causing the child deep dispair as he bumped against the edge of his bed and pressed his small hands over his ears, disintegrating into more sobs.

His body ached at the thought of answering to his father’s belt and his mother’s harsh hand, his cheek already stinging from the impact of one of her furious outbursts already.

The door shook and the bookcase wobbled in danger, books toppling onto the ground. Child pinched his eyes shut and begged for anybody to help him, to stop his parents from hurting him. He didn’t want to be hit, or yelled at, or called horrible names.

Something tugged on his ankle and Child’s eyes popped open, lurching away from the bed with a fright. With tear filled eyes, the child looked down in horror to see a hand protruding from under the bed. It was an inky black, so dark you wouldn’t even see it in the darkness.

It was too big for a human hand, and it’s fingers were long, sharp claws, holding out to the child for him to take. Child let out a horrified shriek when the door rattled and almost splintered, the loudest bang of them all piercing through their skull.

Child was paralysed with terror, and when he looked down towards the bed, there seemed to be a darkness oozing from the edges like a fog, and the outstretched hand inched closer towards him.

“Come.”

Child winced at another loud bang, and he didn’t think twice. He clasped the monsters hand in his own as tightly as he could, and gave a surprised yelp when he was dragged under the bed. The carpet rubbed against his skin and he was plunged into a sea of inky black, his heart rate picking up.

He clawed through the air and tried to crawl away, but something large wrapped around his wrists and gently pulled him back, cradling him against something warm and comforting.

“Hush.”

Child whimpered, his eyes darting through the darkness in fear. He could see two bright glowing eyes staring at him in the dark.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

There was a crash and Child almost let out a scream when he heard his parents come barrelling in. Their shouts bellowed and the child buried his head into the huge chest, feeling long arms wrap around him in a comforting manner.

He heard glass shattering and heavy objects thundering against the floor. His parents footsteps hammered against the carpet, and Child gave a trembling whimper when he sensed his father gripping the edge of the bed, and peer underneath.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

The words spilled from his lips and the darkness almost coiled around him protectively, keeping him hidden. His father let out a venomous scowl and smacked his fists against the mattress.

“Little bastard...”

Child expected a hand to grab him by the ankles and drag him out, but to his surprise, his father rose straight back to his feet, like he’d never seen him. The child whimpered softly and a cold claw caressed his cheek, wiping away the flood of tears.

“You’re safe with me, little one,” the monster cooed gently, the darkness flowing gracefully. “Don’t cry.”

Child heard more shouts, but they were considerably fainter. He cracked open an eye and glanced out of from under the bed, unable to see his parents in his room anymore. He sniffled and winced when the darkness around him shifted, curling around his body, guiding him out.

Child clambered out from the ground and shakily dragged himself back onto their feet, scrubbing his face. He turned around to see the claw reaching upward, gently stroking his hand.

“Thank you...” The child breathed, curling his small fingers around the monster’s hand. The darkness leaked out from the edges, and he saw those two eyes appear again.

“I will be here whenever you feel unsafe,” the monster whispered, slithering back under the bed. Child was reluctant to let go of its hand, but it withdrew quickly and left him all alone.

He wiped his nose and scurried off to close his door quietly, grateful for whatever strange creature had made its home underneath his bed.

When you try to draw yourself but it ends up looking like that one British streamer everyone loves