See You on the Other Side [Yan!DSMP x Reader]

-- CHAPTER 17: John Gower

MEME SECTION

Made by: Fae!

Fundy's fingers are clawing at the fur on his head as he's breathing heavily. The Festival was one of the cruellest events this year, that he knows for certain. The moon is shining above, sending some light into his bedroom as he's trying to suppress the twisted images in his mind. He's been so furious ever since he got home, watching as you departed to your bedroom with both of his parents arguing about you, though the subject wasn't clear until your name was actually dropped. And yet, that's not what infuriated him so much. It's just that he can't, for the life of him, tolerate the way Wilbur looks at you. The thought of his father liking you that way, is one of the most disgusting ones that's every popped up in his mind.

Fundy's trying to push the monstrous thoughts out of his mind. No, not the verbal frustrations regarding his father, or the twisted desires he has for you. No, it's the images he wants out. The bloody fantasies, hurting his muscles as he can easily imagine himself actually acting out these criminal scenes. God, it's terrible.

His fingers are shivering as he lets go of his head, looking at the claws and watching the blood cover them. It's not real. He knows it's not real, but he can't help but wish it were. The fantastical fantasy of scratching at his father's skin, punishing him for the way he's treated Fundy and his mother. At least, that's the argument he'd wish he'd actually use for torturing Wilbur like that.

He's dreamt about it too. Not only does he want to take out competition, the imagination at night has proven he wants Wilbur to bleed. He's dreamt about watching Wilbur hold your hand, taking you out for a walk in the forest near the suburbs. He knows, because Fundy's taken you there before. Fundy has, not Wilbur. Fundy.

He remembers stalking the two of you, as Wilbur constantly laughs happily at whatever happens and embraces you and talks to you and touches you and hugs you and holds you and kisses you and touches you and holds you and hugs you and-

It's driving him insane. Still, to even think of the impossibly small chance of that ever happen: it's maddening him. He knows you'd never go as low as that, but he has also seen what his father is capable of, and he knows that's not where it ends. Maybe Fundy's overestimating his father's capabilities, but he knows that Wilbur never stops until he's gotten exactly what he wanted. What if you have no choice in the matter? Fundy can't just stand by the side and allow you to be taken advantage of like that: you're not even Wilbur's to begin with! You're his. Fundy's. And there's nobody else for you; there simply can't be.

Fundy doesn't know whether it's his territorial animalistic instincts, or just the pure humanly anger and vindication that, in his dreams, brought him to it, but he'd lie if he were to say he disliked the image that his mind had created. The feeling of Wilbur's flesh between his claws, the blood on Fundy's fur, the skin between his teeth: on paper, it's an absolutely agonizing and horrifying experience, but god did it feel good. If there's something portraying Fundy's mental health in an accurate light, it's these nightmares he's had. While they started out scaring him, he's come to embrace them, just as he wishes he may one day embrace you.

At the Festival today, he truly hoped he'd get that chance too. That you'd consider his request and at least allow him to take your hands into his, and maybe make a move. But hey, at least, he's not the only one you rejected. And even better: at least the only person you said yes to was Michael, whom you looked at as though he was your own blood.

Not that Fundy would know anything about a person looking at him like that. Nobody's ever looked at him with positivity in their eyes. It's only been annoyance, or mischief. No love. No passion. Just something useless; something that disappears over time.