Hauntingnightmare
Fandoms
- Dream SMP (3)
- QSMP | Quackity SMP (3)
Recent works
-
Tags
Summary
Quackity is fine with his life. all he has to do is grind away until he can earn enough money to make a living for himself. he's never needed anyone in his life. he doesn't care when people pity him. They could fuck themself for all he cared.
life was going wonderful until the one day he pushed his luck.
now he felt like a roasted duck walking.
or quackity fucks around and finds out-
or quackity gets forcefully but lovely adopted by a innocent loving family-
-
Tags
Summary
The smell of iron was overwhelming, but there was no escape from it. It was everywhere, coating the walls and floors, shining a dull crimson in the low candlelight. His hands were sticky with the stuff, clinging onto his very shin. It was a constant in the mess of thoughts that ran through his mind. The only thing that kept him grounded, it refused to let him reside in the deepest part of his mind so he could escape this horrid reality he found himself in. his stomach turned and spun in his gut. Vomit threatened to spill from his mouth. His tongue swimming in a familiar saliva that told him he had no choice in this.
Turning to the right, the young boy barely kept himself from covering himself in the foul smelling liquid. It splashed onto the hard stone floor and the sound only made him gag more. He didn’t want to see or hear it. The smell was already making him dizzy. His nose scrunched up in disgust. He was grossed out by himself. He was a mess, a monster.
A monster.
or another adopt fic
but can you really be adopted when ur already adopted?
-
Tags
Summary
I dont support the real wilbur. This is just a character in a stupid crack fic that I’m writing. Real wilbur is a dick ( big biggggggggg dick, i dont care he owned up to it ).
So i will only be calling this wilbur, wilbur ash or william ash.He felt another pair of eyes on him, a brush of something lightly touching his back. Like a hundred little fingers lightly running across his skin. He turned to his left and nearly fainted at the sight. A man stood over him, having appeared without a sound. He wasn’t that tall, but the black wings that sprouted from his back made him seem larger. Like a mouse to a bird. His familiar bucket hat sat on his head, the veil hiding the face of the man, yet he knew those eyes were staring right at him. Right into him. Maybe as far as into his very soul.
The Angel Of Death.
or another sbi fanfic because I'm cursed with stories