#frighteningly intriguing

[cam0mi1e]

wow I actually didn’t abandon my wip

Its almost done

[stingraysyd]

@glitchysquidd *slides this across the table*

I’m still trying to get a feeling on how to draw Springtrap…well, it’s mostly his head shape that’s frustrating, but I’m getting somewhere.

Close ups

[wonder0rb]

I made an OC for @glitchy-squidd 's fanfic, Frighteningly Intriguing! These two have been running circles in my brain for weeks. Love this story. I've never had a fanfic genuinely creep me out so bravo. Love their dynamic. On that note, don't you just hate it when your sinister plans get foiled by the power of friendship? Anyway, can't wait to make more art!

Gitchy-squidd I'm offering this as a sacrifice. I hope it's tasty.

[flutterschaos]

THE WAY MY HAND FLEW TO MY MOUTH

JAW ON THE FLOOR

/POS

[springzbee]

Idc I be thinking about this fic daily, the acc for the page is gone, it was so good I'm upset.

[stealingyourbones]

The original colors of pfp that my Philly, my skeleton fellow, is chosen from is of a bee photo I took…

Everyone pick up your government-assigned fursona, grab your two colors then combine it with this random animal picker. Tell us what you get and no rerolls, I don't make the rules.

[suntimeswolliw]

maybe i do want to draw more springtrap.

[ducksido]

Hiii (i'm js gonna make requests that i'll later forget cause i have the memory span of a goldfish).

Idk if you've done this alreadi but the Twist cast with a Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the 3rd (How to Train your Dragon). Just that.

Heartslabyul

Riddle: He’s so stressed. You're rule-defying, spontaneous, and treat dangerous magical creatures like puppies. You tamed a Rampaging Blast-Back Chimera like it was a housecat and now it follows you around. Riddle has had three nosebleeds and nearly a stroke. Still, he secretly admires your creative intellect and brave pacifism. He just… wishes you’d stop encouraging Ace to fly on the back of a literal fire-breathing animal during class.

Trey: Takes on a “parent trying to keep the kid from blowing up the kitchen” role. He's the only one you allow into your scrap workshop because he doesn't judge the fire hazards. Lowkey impressed at how many prosthetic blueprints and wing-gliders you’ve made.

Cater: Totally posts your “dragon” friend on Magicam with sparkly filters. Thinks you’re quirky-cool, but doesn’t want to be involved when one of your inventions inevitably explodes. “Wait, did that creature just SPIT ACID???”

Ace & Deuce: They follow you like ducklings—Deuce out of admiration for your guts and Ace because he wants a ride on the monster. The chaos you three cause is astronomical. You nearly teach them to fly using a roof launchpad. Deuce breaks his arm. Worth it.

Savanaclaw

Leona: Thinks you're a string bean with a death wish…until he sees you calm a mutant magic lizard with a single gesture. Grudgingly intrigued. Thinks your inventions are dumb until he realizes one of them neutralized Blot particles. “…Tch. You really are trouble.”

Ruggie: Shocked you haven’t died yet. You don't eat, sleep, or rest—just tinker. You accidentally build him a device that picks berries ten times faster. Ruggie’s now your biggest fan. Will protect your honor like it’s a paycheck.

Jack: Admires your ethics and conviction. You saved a wounded shadowbeast instead of killing it. That resonated. Still, he lectures you when you forget to wear gloves in a lava experiment.

Octavinelle

Azul: You're a walking business risk. Creatures and tools break contracts. He wants to wring your neck—until he sees you design a new aquatic breather prototype. Suddenly he’s offering you lab space and “suggesting” partnership deals. Don’t fall for it. You terrify him because you’re morally incorruptible.

Jade: Absolutely fascinated. You’re unpredictable and clever and completely unfazed by danger. He's seen you try to ride a venomous sky eel like a broom. Jade respects that. Possibly wants to study—or tame—you.

Floyd: “You remind me of a flappy fish that can’t stop moving!” He's obsessed. Tries to ride your dragon-lizard friend, names it something dumb, and laughs hysterically every time you yell at him. You’re his new toy. Run.

Scarabia

Kalim: You introduced him to aerial gliding and now he’s begging to join your test flights. He loves your creature friends and probably feeds them fruit pebbles. Unfazed by the danger—your energy is his energy.

Jamil: You are his personal nightmare. You bring wild beasts into the dorm, skip meals, and nearly set the common room on fire with your lava lamp-powered flamethrower. But even he has to admit your genius is frighteningly real. Still, he’s got migraine tea ready every time you visit.

Pomefiore

Vil: You are dirt-streaked, soot-covered, and constantly singed. Vil is offended. But then he learns your prosthetic arm design saved a child’s life. Conflicted. Calls you "a mess of metal and miracles."

Rook: Utterly captivated. You are art in chaos—passion, invention, heart. He writes poems about your courage and stealth-wrestles your dragon-friend in the moonlight for fun.

Epel: You’re the coolest freak he’s ever met. He begs to help you build things. He calls you “Blacksmith Boss” and rides on your glider like it’s a rodeo event. You are his new idol.

Ignihyde

Idia: First reaction: “OH GREAT it’s a walking protagonist!” Second reaction: *“Wait—they’re building all this tech by hand?? In real life??” He stalks your blueprints online and ends up in a six-hour voice call with you debating gear ratios and armor plating. He develops a niche crush and names your pet “Toothless.exe” in secret.

Ortho: Thinks you're the best thing ever. Constantly bouncing ideas with you. You make Ortho laugh more than he’s ever laughed before. You probably help him upgrade his parts and teach him how to glide using your experimental wings.

Diasomnia

Malleus: He saw you tame a beast that even he hesitated to approach. You are curious, brave, gentle. You don’t fear him either. He is in awe of your spirit. He watches you work with quiet wonder and may or may not gift you eldritch dragon bones to tinker with.

Lilia: He LOVES your chaos. Your wild inventions remind him of ancient war machines he used to build for fun. He offers to help test them—whether you like it or not.

Sebek: Initially calls you reckless and disgraceful—until Malleus praises you. Now he begrudgingly helps carry your things and yells at you to eat. Will defend you fiercely…while still insisting your gadgets are dumb.

Silver: Sleepily watches you work and sometimes falls asleep on your dragon-beast-thing. You once built him a dreamcatcher that glows in the dark. He treasures it.

[crashingcryptid]

Itsy bitsy stow away- Part 3

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!"

It wasn't Soap that found you next, but Gaz, who had managed to keep his aversion to spiders under wraps.

You stare at him from your perch, a shelf you slowly cleared out and made a small nest on. Gaz had stumbled back so fast he fell right on his ass, eyes bugging out of his head.

"You scared of the mops, Gaz? They gonna get ya?" Soap chuckles as he approaches his fallen comrade. Gaz points a shaking and accusing finger into the closet. Soap sticks his head into the supply closet to see where he was pointing curiously.

You flick on the light at that moment, almost a foot away from Soap's face.

Price could hear the screaming from across base.

"How long were you gonna wait to tell us about them!?" Gaz stood on the complete opposite side of the room and staring up at the corner of the office you nestled in. Ghost had started to pick up that your fangs clicking together meant different things. Right now you were clicking them together in laughter.

"Well, it took you two Muppets two extra months to find them. I don't blame you guys for not noticing. Very stealthy, aren't you, Y/N?" Price asks, your clicking increasing a little.

"I didn't mean to scare you, but unfortunately, I can't help it." You lifted two of your spider-like limps in demonstration and Soap visably shudders. You lower them apologetically, but click a little at him.

"Now that you two have found them, we're clearing it with Laswell to include Y/N in our team. The stealth they have is invaluable." Price boasts a little, having spent the last three months training you for the task force.

"Could even live on enemy bases potentially to learn routines, extract information, give us intell on what the buildings look like. Exists, enemies, and hostages." Ghost continues for Price, watching as a Wasp slips under the door and buzzes into the office.

You become frighteningly still, a careful web lining the corners in Prices office. Not to much to make it look like a Halloween decoration, but it caught things easily. The wasp flies in quick, sharp patterns and gets caught quickly in your web. You skitter across your web, never touching the wall and never making a sound as you rush to the struggling wasp. Soap and Gaz feel like they're going to puke, or scream, or jump out of their skins.

You snap it in between your fangs, not even bothering with venom, just biting it in half and crunching it up happily.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever seen." Gaz murmurs, shuddering a little as you look up at him, lips stretching into a smile around your fangs.

"Wait till you see me lay eggs." You chitter, and even Price looks intrigued and mildly horrified at the idea. All you do is click your fangs in laughter.

"Do ye think they're gonna have babies?"

Soap wouldn't let the question go, having asked it four times since meeting you. A day ago. Gaz also carried the fear of little venomous baby spiders running around, but he tried not to think about it.

"Soap, I don't know, I don't want to think about it." Gaz groans, rubbing his face. "I'm assuming that they aren't having sex with anyone.

"Well, what if... I dunno they have a buncha little spider human babies?" Soap continues, almost shivering at the thought.

"Dude, dude, shut up! I don't even- Why does your brain even go there!?" Gaz groans, pushing his lunch tray away. "I don't wanna eat anymore."

"What have you said now, Tavish?" Ghost asks as he plops down at the table and starts to dig into his meal.

"What is Y/N's eggs are spider human babies? Then we'd have a bunch of them skittering around the base." Soap asks, Gaz feeling the almost childish urge to cover his ears at the conversation.

"Well, then we'd never have to worry about pests again. But I would worry about stepping on one of them." Ghost shrugs, noticing a reflection on the table and looking up with a wide smile. "Hello there itsy bitsy."

"Hello. I normally avoid being here because you are all eating. But I got bored." You chitter as you lower yourself by a strong think web string. It looked like sewing thread, but it was strong like a nylon rope. Dangling upside-down above the table, you gaze at them from that perspective and smile. "I don't have babies, by the way. I just sometimes lay eggs because I don't have anyone to mate with."

"Sorry that I was talking about that, Bonnie." Soap says shyly, Gaz looking at you curiously but surprised that he wanted to try and finish his lunch. Seeing you hanging upside down was actually kind of cute to him, the way your hair stuck out from your head and you let your arms dangle uselessly.

"That's okay, Soap. It's natural to be curious. There aren't many spider hybrids that I know about. But even without a mate, I can lay eggs twice a year." You explain as you watch them eating.

"Do you eat human food, or just bugs?" Gaz questions next, now eating more from his plate and not feeling as bothered by your presence. Yes, the fact that you were talking to them, interacting with them, felt like exposure therapy.

"Love mushrooms... berries. Crunchy things are good. I have taken a few granola bars before. But I don't have a huge appetite. I typically let my webs get full and eat when I'm hungry." You chitter dreamily. It had been a while since you'd had a ripe strawberry.

"Noted. We'll try to stock more of those things at base." Price's voice caused you to curiously shift your body in his direction, seeing him standing by the table. "But that'll be after we get back. We have our first operation together. Briefing in an hour."

The worms have begun to whisper Wolf Spider Graves. Wolf Spider Graves! WOLF SPIDER GRAVES!!! I am potentially going to write these with Graves, but I will not be including his betrayal to the team (unless i make an angst version of a chapter 😏) anyway. Hopefully, you enjoyed part 3! Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @big-stretch @skz-goose @skullcrawler @bbmgirll @snowfire0313

[dressycobra7]

@glitchy-squidd this is what I imagine reader would have to deal with in Frighteningly Intriguing 😂😭

[cam0mi1e]

my fnaf 3 self insert fanfiction fanart is finally done:]

The scene is based on the frighteningly intriguing fanfic on ao3, by a very cool person @glitchysquidd The work is great and I hope it will be continued in any pace. No pressure tho👍

ps.

Tbh the expression on the main character is pretty shit, because my artstyle is bad and i need to work on it

but generally this fuckers are pleasant to look at, also i like how the kiddie strangler himself turned out 🐇

[stingraysyd]

Y/N doesn’t like being touched but they’ll make an exception this one time cause Jason’s a dick.

Hard to believe that my first fnaf fanfic was a reader x Springtrap but god damn is it good.

@glitchysquidd I love your Frighteningly Intriguing fic and welcome back!

I couldn’t for the life of me remember what Jason looked liked.

[fraugwinska]

Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

[dressycobra7]

@glitchysquidd definitely Reader in ur fic 🤣🤣

y/n in every (good) springtrap fic ever

[achelouise]

how they would main you —alhaitham

fandom: genshin impact

pairing: gamer!alhaitham x character!reader

a/n: initially i wanted to do a whole complication, but im stuck on how to write other characters.... ahahH so i figured i might as well just post this one first and see if i can get any new ideas for the others (the answer is no - but i am open to suggestions!! my brain is empty)

— he’s a casual mobile gamer despite his position as ceo (though honestly, he’s just filling in someone else’s shoes until a suitable candidate arrives). he used to log in every other day to complete commissions. some may call it draining, but he found comfort in the routine; mindless, yet exploring new places every time. he was just extremely careful to not slip and cave into his exploring urges- up until they added a feature that didn’t require him to do them anymore. so he times himself; grab a few chests here and there, talk to some npcs, do bounties, and call it a day before heading straight back to work.

— he doesn’t consume any sort of content related to genshin other than the game itself. no trailers, no drip marketing, no nothing. he believes the promotion ruins the experience for him, and he prefers to keep his entertainment within the scope of his little app. that was, until he ran into you in-game.

— he had expected you to appear in the game at some point. you were initially teased in a small world quest, and alhaitham had taken note of that. that is why he was able to realize that the description the npc gave during the quest matched yours completely, and brought him the tiniest dose of joy to know that he was right. there was something about you that intrigued him, that made his lips tilt ever-so-slightly in amusement.

— he wanted to know more about you. the night he played your story quest, he typed in your trailer- and needless to say, he was impressed. your character was born from brilliant writing, your design (after a brief, two-hour research) seemed to be a perfect blend of historical accuracy and fanciful ideas. the way your voice actor conveyed your emotions seemed to breathe life into your model; you looked real, frighteningly so.

— he was in luck; since your story quest was being promoted this patch, this meant he could pull for you. what was funny was that he didn’t pull, at all, so he had enough to get ten copies of you and still have left for the next character. he screenshotted the piles of primogems before jabbing his finger on the “pull 10” button.

— he had to run into soft pity to get you, but he was on a guarantee, so it only brought him a small sigh of relief when he saw the falling wish turn bright gold. your intro was long, over a minute long of just straight-up yapping, but he sat there to listen to every single word anyway. the next thing he does is click on every single voiceline of yours. you know the expression where someone looks emotionless but has a gigantic blush on their face? yeah, that’s his face.

— he realized some of them were locked, and that’s when found out that he had to increase your ‘friendship level'- or whatever- to unlock them all. plus, it also gave your namecard, which looked quite aesthetically pleasing, even from an objective point-of-view. so began his journey to ‘farm’ materials for you.

— his work makes him run a tight schedule, and at the end of the day, he is a disciplined man. he sets his playtime to an hour, now- most of it looking up guides- nahh, of course not.

— alhaitham actually does pay attention to what does what- that’s how he was able to get through spiral abyss with aloy. in the end, it’s just numbers, and he was good with those. he actually uses his eyes to see which set would be best for you, and what free-to-play weapon would suit you most. the only, only reason why he outranks those with your constellations or signature is purely because his artifact luck is absolutely cracked.

“i do need crit rate. oh, look at that. it got added as the new substat. perhaps some crit damage…? hmm. not bad.”

— his luck is genuinely insane. he didn’t even think that getting anything other than the desired substats was possible until he got a single def roll, and had a small breakdown as to why the system was ‘broken’. alhaitham, you lucky, lucky man. he probably broke the record for the highest crit value without even knowing it.

— he wasn’t too keen on your gameplay. it was a tad inconvenient, and it required several readings of your kit to fully reach your potential. but if he brought goddamn aloy to 36 stars, he can sure as hell make you hit one bajillion damage (he does), even if he only has one copy of you. he gets used to the clunky mechanics when he reaches friendship level 3, and (unknowingly) becomes your defender.

— he knows, of course, that purposefully typing a response on a forum when others are dragging your name is the behavior he expects from cyno- and besides, he has better things to do with his life. the only times where his defense for you comes into play is when he’s arguing with kaveh about it.

“you just don’t understand! [name] was written that way to portray the conflicts between the two parties, and to dig up this- this lore just proves how baseless your theories are!”

“then why not simply use an npc? face it, you’re just mad because i cracked this theory faster than you ‘lore-lovers’ did.”

— he can’t say anything when it comes to your gameplay, though. to kaveh’s credit, he doesn’t focus on the meta.

— he eventually mains you (as if it wasn’t obvious already), taking you to the far corners of teyvat and making sure to always teleport back to your region before logging out the game. he eagerly- i mean, patiently waits for each new voiceline, whether it comes from the friendship xp or from new events. in any case, you bring him a little bit of life every time he opens the game- perhaps he should get your signature when you get a rerun.

[into-fiction]

gelphie snippets

i have this annoying habit of procrastinating writing my gelphie fics by writing....other gelphie shit. so. here's a bunch of random tiny snippets from the various works i have in my drafts. enjoy.

///

“I’m Elphaba. Elphaba Thropp,” the green girl says, thrusting her hand out in front of her.

Elphaba Thropp’s familiar is a tiny little monkey with feathery blue wings, and Galinda has never seen something so beautiful and strange and endlessly intriguing before. 

That goes for the monkey as well, of course.

///

Lady Glinda’s chin lifts, her brown eyes glinting with stubbornness as the corner of her mouth quirks up. Elphaba resists the urge to punch that smirk right off her glossy pink lips. How dare she stand there and act as though she had any authority? Any right to be making declarations or threats or orders? On Elphaba’s ship?!

“Now you’re just asking to be shoved overboard,” Elphaba growls. Her fingers tighten their hold on the hilt of her sword, the creak of her leather gloves briefly drawing Glinda’s attention. 

“Toss me overboard all you want,” Glinda says. “But just know: my offer dies with me.”

“Are you that eager to die?” Elphaba asks. She steps forward, crowding into the shorter woman’s space and glaring down at her.

Glinda’s smirk widens into a true grin. “Quite the opposite, Captain Thropp,” she snarks, rolling up on her toes to get right in Elphaba’s face. “I’ve never felt more alive.”

///

Elphaba would like to say this isn’t her fault. She really really would. Sadly, it appears that such a claim would be, at best, a bald-faced lie.

Morrible had told her not to mess with any of the time spells, that time magic was tricky and unwieldy and widely regarded by most sorcerers as taboo. Using a spell to try and reverse time just so she had more hours in her day to complete a school project was…probably not her best idea. 

But! In Elphaba’s defense- she never could’ve expected her roommate to walk in right as she was attempting to cast it, throwing off her focus and concentration. Her last thought before the magic had poured out of her was of Galinda, and sadly, this was the consequence. 

‘This’ being, of course, the five-year-old, curly-headed blonde currently staring back at her.

///

One of the worst things about gaining wings wasn’t even the wings, per se, but everything else that came with the spell. At first, Galinda is so overwhelmed and in so much pain that she doesn’t truly notice the changes. She doesn’t understand until Morrible pieces it all together. 

Elphaba hadn’t just been thinking about flight or wings, she’d been thinking about birds. And ‘bird’ is precisely what Galinda now seemed to be. Or at least- frighteningly close to one.

///

Galinda’s memories of being sick as a little girl are…less than pleasant. Her parents had a zero tolerance policy for a whiny, sickly child, and Galinda had grown up assuming that falling ill was a personal failure of hers, another way of disappointing her already impossible parents. 

Often, Galinda would get sick following one of her mother’s favorite punishments- making her bathe in freezing cold water and letting her drip dry while she stood in the corner, shivering and ‘thinking about what she did wrong.’

If Galinda woke the next morning with sniffles and a fever, her mother would tell her she deserved it- that it was just an extension of her punishment, a sort of natural karma for being disobedient. 

It was silly, looking back, but she had been so gullible as a child. Even now, she stifles a cough into the crook of her elbow despite knowing, logically, that Elphaba won’t hate her for being sick, that she won’t abandon her all day to sit miserable and alone in their dorm. 

But…the worry persists, a niggling little seed of doubt.

///

Eventually, the door creaks open again, the guards shifting to check who is entering before standing aside. A man enters, followed by the young maid and a boy around the same age. The man has a case in one hand, long and skinny. 

“Well,” he says, piercing eyes roving down Galinda’s bare body. “She’s certainly a pretty one.”

The edge to his voice, the creepy tilt of his smirk, makes Galinda’s skin crawl. One of the guards mumbles something in agreement, a chuckle passing between all the men in the room. Galinda can’t muster the strength to glare anymore, too tired and too scared. Instead, she keeps her gaze on the floor, intent to ignore them, to not let them see that their comments are getting to her.

///

At age eleven, Galinda--who had long since realized that there were certain rules one had to follow in order to be right, be good, be normal--sat in the third row of her school’s classroom, two seats back from a boy named Klaus. 

Galinda’s friends all assured her that Klaus was the cutest boy in school. “And he totally likes you!”

“Likes me?” Galinda had questioned. She’d frowned, glancing over to where Klaus was eating lunch with his own friends. “He’s never asked to be my friend.”

Nikki, one of the girls in Galinda’s class, rolled her eyes and groaned. Nikki had three older sisters, and she was a bit of a know-it-all. “Not like that, Galinda. He likes likes you. He thinks you’re cute!”

“Oh.”

Nikki had poked her in the arm, giggling lightly. “Well, doesn’t that make you happy?” she’d asked. 

And Galinda had nodded, had giggled right along with her friend, even if she wasn’t sure why it was such a laughing matter. “Of course,” she’d said, because Galinda was eleven, and by now she had learned that sometimes, you just had to play along.

///

Glinda wakes slowly, feeling exhausted and hungover. She keeps her eyes shut, knowing the glare of the emerald walls will hurt her salt-sore eyes. She’s cried herself to sleep enough times to know the drill by now. 

There’s a blanket overtop of her and a soft surface cradling her body, and Glinda presses her nose down into her pillow and-

Pauses. Frowns. And slowly opens her eyes. 

The sight of the small hut’s interior sends a rush of memories through her, so fast and so strong it knocks the breath from her lungs momentarily. Elphaba, she thinks helplessly. She scrambles to her feet, tripping over her blanket and nearly tumbling to the floor, and whips her head around for a glance of anything green. 

Nothing. Glinda is alone.