#-toe to toe with canon as much as possible

[spotsupstuff]

I must have you know that your iterator takes are all very good in general and I am going a bit feral over them

d'oh well you are a prime charmer,,,

thank you!!! i'm glad you do!

[assriels]

take me to church

pairing: azriel x f!reader

summary: azriel was not a religious male, but you were his goddess incarnate and he would willingly worship at your feet until his dying breath

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut (18+!! mdni pls), canon typical religious imagery, allusions to azriel’s work but nothing explicit

a/n: my hozier era has returned i fear

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune !

Azriel was not a particularly religious male, offering his acknowledgement to the Mother oftentimes in the heat of battle, on the brink of death as a curse on his lips, hoping someone somewhere would heed his plea to live another day. Whatever religious underpinnings existed within him were but remnants from ancient tradition, built into his body as steadily as his bones. But, aside from the rare moments he’d faced Death and lived, Azriel was not one to offer daily prayers of thanks.

Since meeting you decades ago however, Azriel had considered more and more changing his relative indifference to the celestial beings that reigned. He was sure he hadn’t done anything in his lifetime to deserve you as a lover — let alone a mate — but still the Mother blessed him, and for that he was more grateful than words or prayers could ever express. 

Every brush of your lips against his skin, every tender gaze and soft smile was enough to bring Azriel to his knees every night before the altar between your legs. He sang praises and hymns until his jaw was sore, desperate to pull those seraphic moans from the depths of your throat as he worshiped you ceaselessly. He pledged his life to you the moment the bond snapped for him, never having been able to imagine an existence without you by his side.

Azriel had assumed that he was condemned to a life of desolation and loneliness, rotting with guilt and insecurity for all the things he had done and all the things he could never be. But despite the blood that perpetually stained his scarred hands and the weight of his past burdening his shoulders, you never shied away. Never so much as frowned when he confessed to you the serpentine nature of his hidden work for the Night Court or the calamity he’d endured as a young, lost child. 

You had sat and listened all those years ago, delicate fingers tracing the calluses on his palm as if the lines on his hands whispered all of the things he left unsaid. You’d understood the complexities of his character, loved them as much as you loved every other part of him. 

You made your unwavering affection for him known at every possible opportunity, often massaging away the crease between his brows when you knew he was losing himself to the spiral of his unwanted thoughts. You’d kiss his forehead and run your fingers through his hair, silent but understanding as you allowed him time to open himself up to you in whatever manner he pleased.

Azriel’s adoration of you was no different. He cherished the way you confided in him, revealing to him the depths of your own darkness and fears. He would safeguard your trust with his dying breath, always and forever striving to be your safe space, a lockbox where you could store your darkest thoughts and insecurities without fear of judgment. 

Just as you had always done for him. Just as you were doing now.

In the comfort of your shared bedroom in your private residence, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, rolling on to your toes to kiss the back of his neck while he undid the intricate laces and buckles of his leathers. Your deft fingers soon joined his in the process as you both worked in comfortable silence to unfasten the tediously complex web of clasps. 

The tension in his shoulders and the microscopic ruffle in his brow was all you needed to conclude that his latest task was a gruesome one. One of those missions that tended to stick around, following him and taunting him until his guilt festered and spread. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, voice steady as you removed the last of his Siphons secured tightly around his bicep. It was an effort not to gawk at his exquisite physique that lay hidden beneath the constricting leathers; no matter how many times you’d seen Azriel shirtless, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to the sight. 

He hummed in response, taking a moment to survey his torso in the mirror for any cuts or bruises that needed tending to. When he didn’t spot any — most of them had quickly stitched themselves together on the flight back home — he met your gaze in the mirror and shook his head gently, “Not really.” 

Azriel was somewhat avoidant by nature, too used to minimizing his feelings in lieu of the success of a mission, but the gentle definitiveness in his tone told you all you needed to know. He’d open up about this latest operation when he was ready, but he needed time to process and think, formulate coherent thoughts about what had transpired. And as much as you wanted to soothe the emotional aches and pains you knew plagued him after every mission, you would give him that time. 

You sighed and came to stand in front of him, taking both his cheeks in your hands as you forced his gaze to yours. It took everything in him not to lose himself in those pretty eyes of yours.

Azriel could sense the worry you habitually hid in the moments after he returned home, and so he leaned into your touch, turning to kiss the heart of your palm before offering you reassurances, “I’m okay. Promise.” 

Azriel held his pinky out cutely and you chuckled, shaking your head fondly before wrapping your own around his. You used your joined hands as leverage to pull him down to slot your lips over his. Azriel sighed contentedly at the pressure of your kiss, his long lashes fluttering shut as his hands repositioned themselves around your body. 

One hand splayed steadily on the cage of your ribs as the other made the devious trek down, grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze playfully. 

You yelped and pulled away as he smirked at you fondly. His gaze traveled over your shoulder to look in the mirror, never tiring of how the curves of your body looked pressed against his. 

The two of you stayed like that for a long while, Azriel’s chin hooked over your head as your arms wound themselves comfortably around his waist. The cadence of his heartbeat was one you were well acquainted with, like a steady metronome that measured itself to the beat of your own heart. 

When he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, you murmured, “Want to take a bath?”

You felt the near imperceptible quickening of his pulse against your ear and you pressed yourself further into his chest, reveling in the way he so instinctively reacted to every little thing you did.

“Only if you join me,” he responded cheekily, corners of his lips twitching in affectionate jest.

You hummed and pretended to think about it, shifting to rest your chin against his heart, pretty lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. 

“I could be convinced.”

Gods, how beautiful you looked. How beautiful you always looked. Your charming allure caught Azriel off guard every single time you merely breathed in his direction, and he briefly wondered if he’d ever get used to the ease in which you enchanted him without even meaning to. 

Unable to resist, his hands came up to cradle your jaw, supporting your neck as he bent down to kiss you, his nose brushing affectionately against yours as he pulled away. 

“I’ll carry you,” he offered, lips brushing your skin, hazel eyes never once leaving yours.

“Deal,” you said, laughing delightedly when he lifted you, throwing you playfully over his shoulder to make a beeline to the bathroom.

Running a bath — a normally automatic part of Azriel’s routine — was made infinitely harder when he was so busy pressing his lips to your jaw, your cheeks, your mouth. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him tonight — maybe it was the adrenaline from a hard task completed, the warmth of home coaxing him to let go and savor you — but he wasn’t complaining. And neither were you, if the way you matched his fervor was anything to go by. 

When both of you finally settled into the warm water, he sighed in contentment, lazily, adoringly watching as the tension eased out of your shoulders. 

Before you came into his life, Azriel had never really understood the desire to worship. He knew logically that it was an act of devotion, but never did he really feel the inclination to pray to a god in thanks.

But it was moments like these — the wonderfully mundane moments of bliss with you — that finally made him understand. If the Mother was anything like you, it wasn’t difficult for Azriel to fathom a devotee’s need to pray.

He thought this as he ran his soapy hands gingerly over your body, as he buried his fingers in your hair to massage your scalp. If you were his goddess, then these were his acts of reverence and he would practice until his physical body no longer could.

And when you did the same for him, when you gently scrubbed his back and wings and arms and chest with the deliberation and gentility of an artist with a craft, he thought that maybe this gratification was what the gods felt when their followers prayed. 

After a while, once the soap had run down the drain and the water was warm and clear again, you settled against him with your back pressed to his chest. 

It was in that moment he realized the arousal that had slowly eked its way into his bloodstream; he had been too busy basking in the feel of your fingertips on his aching muscles to realize that your lovingly innocent touch had made him hard. Embarrassingly so.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, his attention now on the way his cock pressed so tightly against your lower back.

Your laugh — melodic and lovely — curled around his ears in a lover’s embrace, “Don’t be sorry. I’m irresistible, I know.”

He knew you’d meant to tease, but he couldn’t help but agree; if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that you’d casted a spell on him to ensnare his unyielding devotion to you. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and you captured his chin in your fingers to tilt his lips towards yours. 

This kiss, unlike the ones you two had shared earlier in the night, was much more insistent, revving your desire with each stroke of his tongue. 

His hands remained frustratingly chaste on the curve of your waist, and you squirmed in his embrace, willing him to touch you. The pressure of him against your back and the feel of his mouth — now leaving a scathing trail of little bites down your neck — pressed to your skin left the space between your legs slick with a wetness unattributable to the warm bath water. 

Your hand settled over his and for a brief moment your mind flickered to appreciation of the ridges raised by the scars that wound themselves like vines up his fingers to his wrists. Azriel had always been somewhat self conscious of the puckered skin of his hands, but you stood firm in the belief that they only served to make him that much more wonderful. 

(And you couldn’t deny the pleasurable sensation they added when his fingers were buried inside you. But that was neither here nor there.) 

You guided his touch as he reared back up to kiss you again. You led one of his hands down between your legs and the other to your chest, where he eagerly played with the peak of your nipples. 

“Oh?” he intoned, amusement coloring his inquiry at the feel of how wet he now realized you were. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, mimicking his earlier apology with much less sheepishness.

“Don’t be sorry,” he mimed back to you. His hands fell into a practiced rhythm, circling your clit with delicious pressure. 

You arched into his touch, moans falling from your lips as he teased your entrance before he mercifully sank a single digit into you. The stretch was a welcome feeling, but it quickly dissolved into the need for more. But it seemed that Azriel was in no hurry, languidly alternating between lazy strokes and nonchalant circles.

You arched again, silently pleading with him to give you more as you gripped his knee beneath the now tepid water. Though the heat of your body alone was probably enough to re-warm the bath. 

Azriel indulged you, unable to resist your alluring pull. He added another finger to his ministrations, blissfully dizzy with the sounds falling from your lips. His other hand snaked from your nipples down between your legs, timing his well placed caresses of your clit to the unrelenting plunge of his fingers. 

He knew you were close — so quick, he thought with a lethal satisfaction — by the octave of your moans and the desperate way your hands fought for purchase on his legs, your breasts. 

He bit down on that wonderfully tender spot at the junction between your shoulder and neck, and shivered when he felt you clench around his fingers, walls pulsing temptingly around his fingers as you came. 

Azriel captured your lips with his own once more, prolonging the pleasure from your release for as long as possible. You shifted to straddle him, never once breaking the kiss as the water sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the tub. 

The way you ground your hips down onto his had him groaning, eyebrows furrowing with the effort to restrain himself. He could take you now, could give in to your attempts to guide him inside you, but you were shivering, goosebumps raising the skin on your back and shoulders as the chilled water and even chillier night air caressed your form. 

Besides, his mind was working in overdrive, crafting plan after plan to have you keening and arching for him, all of which required a more comfortable setting than the marble bathtub in your bathroom. 

He stood with ease, looping your legs around his midsection to carry you back to the bed.

He tossed you softly — though quite unceremoniously — onto the bed, and you would have complained about getting the sheets wet, but 1) you knew Azriel would make an obscene joke about how they’d get wet anyway and 2) the feel of his cock grinding against your clit was enough to rob your consciousness of any coherent thought. 

Azriel was murmuring sweet endearments into your damp skin as he made the excruciatingly slow trek down your body, his lips mapping a tedious trail of kisses down your torso as if he were committing each ridge and valley to memory in fear that he’d lose his way on the journey back. 

Finally, finally his mouth found that wonderfully sweet spot between your legs and he licked a broad stripe up the length of you. You shivered as he lingered, tongue lazily alternating between teasingly shallow strokes inside you to wide circles around your clit. 

It was torture of the purest kind that he wasn’t giving you exactly what he knew you wanted, and by the wicked glint in his darkened hazel eyes, you could tell he was being intentional. Your fingers found their home in the impossibly silky and slightly damp strands of his hair as you attempted to pull his mouth tighter against you, petulant pout curving your lips downward.

His responding chuckle was enough to make you groan, the reverberation vibrating against your cunt before settling tantalizingly in your bones. Azriel’s arms came up to encircle your legs, effectively keeping you from grinding your hips up. You tossed your head back and keened, giving in to the languidness of his affections. 

Your eyes met his at the sound of a purposely lewd smack of his lips against you, and you felt him smirk against you before you were swiftly flipped over. 

“Azriel!”

What was meant to be a gasp of surprise quickly devolved into a moan of pleasure by the time the last syllable of his name left your lips. You were acutely aware of the sudden switch in positions as you were now straddling your mate’s head. 

He coaxed your gaze down to his with a featherlight touch down your spine, and you were met with a swirling mix of love, lust, and adoration swimming in pools of hazel. Your chest swelled momentarily and you probably would’ve said something sweet and much more coherent than what left your mouth as he pulled you down onto him and feasted. 

Azriel was addicted to the way he could make you fall apart, even from beneath you with your knees straddling his head. It was borderline sinful – an angel brought to the precipice of obscenity and seduction.

His hips shifted on the bed, body desperate to find friction. But this moment was yours, and so Azriel refrained from giving in to his baser physical desires. His tongue sang praises against your cunt, his hymns translated to the exquisite moans that fell from your lips. 

It wasn’t long before you were toppling over that wonderful edge into what felt like a never ending orgasm. You could barely register the change in your positions again, head spinning and dizzy with insurmountable pleasure; before you knew it, your back was pressed against the cool sheets of the bed, eyes glassy with a post-orgasm haze.

Azriel leaned down to kiss you then, a sweet contrast to the near indecent way you could taste yourself lingering on his lips. He took his time kissing you, sending you wave after wave of undying love and loyalty down that invisible golden tether wound tight around your heart. 

You briefly thought of returning the favor, of flipping him onto his back and putting your mouth on him in just the way you knew would coax those wonderfully rare sounds of unbridled, wanton pleasure from him. But his body was heavy against yours – a more than welcome comfort – and you couldn’t find the strength in you to pull away from the warmth of his skin. 

You arched into him as you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer while you encircled your legs around his waist. Relishing in the way he shuddered against you, you urged your hips up to grind against his, aching for the feel of him despite having just orgasmed. Twice. 

Thankfully he obliged you, shifting to ease himself inside you, slowly – gods, so slowly – pushing into you with the deliberation and practiced self-discipline of a male centuries trained in espionage. 

Azriel let out a half-restrained groan when his hips were flush against yours, always marveling at how close you could make him without even lifting a finger. He had meant to take a few moments to collect himself, not wanting to ruin the moment with a quick release (though admittedly he was struggling), but you shifted beneath him impatiently as you whispered salacious pleas into the shell of his ear. 

The drag of his cock in and out of you was a pleasure you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to, and you couldn’t help the prurient sounds that tumbled from your lips. Though, this just seemed to urge Azriel faster, more insistent in the most delicious way. 

You knew he was close by the way his breath hitched in his throat and his fingers tightened around the flesh of your thigh. The feel of his abs flexing as he pushed his hips into yours and the perfectly timed grind of his hips against your clit filled your head with a heady, hazy bliss and you nearly forgot where you were for a moment. 

You wound your fingers into his hair to steady him as you bit kisses into his jaw, nails raking a gentle path of encouragement down his back.

“Come for me, Az,” you half-pleaded, half-commanded.

And he did. With a gasp and moan so beautiful it sent you into another spiral of pleasure, arching into him as he whispered incoherent praises into your neck. 

As you basked in the aftermath, chest heaving and legs tangled beneath your fluffy duvet, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a lightening in his chest. He once again thought of how he had been shown so much mercy, so much kindness by the Mother, the gods – who or whatever governed the celestial plane of existence – to be bound so graciously to you. He never ceased to be amazed that he had met his goddess incarnate and had the overwhelming honor of loving her. 

With your cheek resting above his heart, he didn’t doubt that you could hear the quickening of his pulse when he pressed his lips to your hair. “I love you.”

Those three words were his prayer, his penance, his praise, and he would never stop offering them to you so long as you allowed him the privilege of saying them. He could feel you smile as you kissed his collarbone, sleepily offering your benediction in return, “Love you.”

As you fell asleep, encased in the warmth and safety of his arms, he idly traced the lines of your mating tattoo, swirling tendrils of ink dancing up your hip to your waist. He always loved how they were so reminiscent of his shadows. The shadows that were now winding through your hair and tickling your cheeks in adoration. 

As he too began slipping into the sweet relief of slumber, he briefly thought of his mission – it had felt so far away, so long ago now that he was guarded within the shield of your presence – and the guilt and sorrow he’d feel in the coming days. He used to dread the aftermath of his work, never allowing himself to rest comfortably for fear that sleep would be too much of an undeserved reprieve for the atrocities he’d committed. 

But ever since he selfishly allowed himself to love and be loved by you, he had found solace in your embrace. You couldn’t offer absolution of his sins – if such a thing even existed – but he was certain you were his salvation. An offering from the Cauldron – that he was convinced he was wholly unworthy of – as a chance to right his wrongs. You listened and loved him and saw him for all of the parts he was ashamed of, and for that he would willingly spend the rest of his life striving to deserve.

(Though he was sure you’d frown at him and adamantly insist that he need not do anything but exist to deserve the love you gave him.)

As he let himself descend into the comforting darkness of sleep, Azriel thought that if he would be punished in his next life for the sins he committed in this one, as long as he’d be able to love you through it all it would be worth it. 

[abyssruler]

can’t stop thinking about scara who wakes up from his slumber much much later than he did in canon. traveler!reader, who’s looking for their siblings, aether and lumine, stumbles upon innocent!scara during your time in inazuma and he just. follows you along like a lost puppy, practically imprinting on you at first sight as he decides, yes, this is the person i will be following for the rest of my life.

you teach him about this world, showing him little tricks using multiple elements and laughing when he gets all pouty after you tell him that wielding multiple elements isn’t possible for him. you like protecting him, even though he says he doesn’t need protection, but you never fail to remind him about that one time he cried after getting burnt by a pyro slime. he gets all red in the face and shy whenever you bring it up.

he does worry, on nights when you’re asleep and the only company he has is the stars, that you’ll leave him someday in your pursuit of finding your siblings. and it’s inevitable, perhaps, but he’d like to cling on to this small slice of happiness, pressing himself closer to you and ignoring your sleepy protest about how his toes are too cold.

you won’t leave him, he’ll make sure of it. he just has to convince you, is all.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Couldn't stop thinking about Vash having a whiny, desperate jerk off session so I wrote this. [ SYNOPSIS ] A sleepless night gets interesting. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, friends to lovers, voyeurism, masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, facefucking.

You had fully intended on sleeping through the night. After a long day of traveling you assumed your exhaustion would overtake you, lulling you into a deep slumber. It sounded so appealing, sinking into the soft mattress, a comfort you had been denied for months, and letting your mind rest. Sure, it was a hotel, but it was a nice one, one that radiated a certain hominess you craved.

But nope. You found yourself wide awake, skulking through the hallway for a glass of crystal clear water, another comfort you were deprived of. You felt possessed by this sudden need, this urge.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, but you were frequently betrayed by the soft squeaks of aged hardwood floors. Every audible step was punctuated with a muted utterance of “shit.”

As you made your way down the hall you noticed Vash’s door was ajar. You were even more determined to quiet your steps. You carefully passed by, walking on your toes. The silence you were attempting to conjure was superseded by the sound of someone panting. Immediately you felt concerned, a flurry of thoughts bombarding your brain.

Is he dying? Are his lungs giving out? Maybe he inhaled too much sand when he tripped over his own legs walking up that steep dune. Is that even possible? It could be a nightmare. Is he gonna be okay?

You decided to gently push the door open to check up on him. Instead of seeing him snuggled under the blankets you saw him fully nude and straddling a pillow. You quickly turned away and choked on your own spit.

“I can’t,” you muttered, trying to find the wherewithal to walk away.

Watching him would be so invasive, a complete breach of trust. It was hard to reconcile this fact with the compulsion to take another peek. After a minute of mentally arguing with yourself, you convinced yourself you were looking through the crack in the doorway to simply make sure what you had seen was in fact happening. Your eyes could have been playing a crude trick on you.

You turned and looked into his room. As it turned out your eyes had not deceived you. There he was, grinding up against a pillow, his body bathed in moonlight. You couldn’t help but admire it. You would have been stupid not to. He was beauty personified, an opinion that would make him blush. He so rarely thought he was desirable, convinced his brutalized body would deter anyone that showed interest in him. He couldn’t have been more wrong. You wanted to drag your tongue down his chest, lovingly lapping at the scars.

Your clit throbbed as you watched him as he rutted away. Every desperate whine that fell from his lips made you dizzy. He was so vocal, so needy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” he whined, his eyes clenched shut.

You felt gutsy so you slowly pushed the door open. Nothing too crazy, just a little more so you’d have a better view. Your hand wandered under your pajamas, your fingers sweeping across your slick cunt. The sensation made you shiver.

He began panting harder, his whimpers growing louder. He hung his head and continued driving his cock into the pillow. He leaned over it, holding himself up with his arms. His palms dug into the bed. You wanted to be underneath him, gazing up at his face as it fluctuated between elation and agony.

You rubbed your clit, slow and steady circles, as you watched Vash thrust away. He briefly stopped and reached for something on the side of the bed. It looked familiar.

“Is that my shirt?” you whispered.

He held it up to his face, taking a deep inhale, and resumed fucking his pillow. His muffled whines were sending you over the edge. You never realized he thought of you like that. You were friends, buddies of the first degree… Granted there were nights, usually drunken ones, where he looked so appealing, so fuckable. The humiliation of rejection was the only thing holding you back.

It was over for you once he started moaning your name. Your legs felt like the bones had melted away. You braced yourself against the door, pushing it much more open than you ever intended.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, startled by your presence.

You covered your eyes and hoped he didn’t notice that one of your hands was tucked away under your pajamas.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you cried out.

You heard the rustling of blankets before the sound of him falling out of the bed. You winced. It sounded like he hit the floor hard.

“A—are you okay?” you asked timidly.

He groaned. “I’ll be fine. But could… Could you shut the door?”

“Wi—with me like outside it?”

“I don’t care,” he sighed.

You quickly slammed the door shut. The hallway was much colder than Vash’s room. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fluids pooling in your underwear. You leaned against the door and shut your eyes. You thought of tranquil things: the night sky, a hot cup of tea, sleeping in. Just as you felt relaxed enough to head back to your room, the door opened, sending you straight into Vash’s arms. Your back pressed up against his chest.

You wanted to die. “I wasn’t being creepy. I promise.”

“You were,” he laughed. “But it’s alright.”

You freed yourself from his grasp and cleared your throat. He had haphazardly wrapped a sheet around his waist. It hung low enough that you could see a hint of pubic hair.

“Well! I’ll be going now,” you said robotically. It was what you felt like you should say considering the circumstance.

“You, uh… You could stay.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I mean…”

You were hanging on his every word.

“You can say no.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t mind if you—”

“If I what?” you blurted out.

He smiled. “You know… Helped me out.”

You were more than happy to jump at the opportunity. You followed him to the bed, but stood next to it awkwardly as he laid back down on it. Your nerves were getting the best of you. You almost keeled over when he kicked away the sheet that had been hiding his aching cock. Precum dribbled from his slit. You gripped his shaft and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was so thick, you knew you weren’t prepared to have something that girthy inside your cunt.

You let go and crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself on top of him. You slowly took his cock in your mouth, watching as a blush overtook his tanned skin. You rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet fluid leaking out.

He groaned and placed his hand on the base of your skull. He ever so slightly pushed down, sending his cock deeper in. You breathed through your nose as it filled your mouth.

“Go—good girl,” he stammered.

He began to rut against your face, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. His pubes brushed up against the tip of your nose. His moans grew louder, more urgent. He whimpered your name as his body tensed up. He was close. You could feel it. His cock twitched as a trickle of his cum dripped down your throat. He dropped his hand and gripped the sheets. You bobbed your head and your mouth filled with his cum. It dripped down, collecting at the base of his shaft. You lapped it all up, leaving no trace. It lacked the typical piquant taste you were used to; it was sweet and oddly refreshing.

You rested your head on his thigh. “Do you mind if I stay—if I sleep here?”

He patted your head and stifled a laugh. You looked up expectantly.

“I was kinda hoping we’d do more than sleep.”

[dolcezzatoru]

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: running through the nsfw alphabet hc with my favorite boy ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: minors begone ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: this is part of an ask i received on my sfw account, please enjoy♡

𝐚 = 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱)

i think he'd be very affectionate and rewarding with his aftercare. since you're putting up with him, the least he could do is treat you like royalty. it's for him too, though, so expect to do things together. baths, cuddling, massages...he's putting you first but definitely looking out for himself as well.

𝐛 = 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬)

this man knows he's fine. while his eyes are are obviously a big feature of himself he loves, he'd be big on his chest and abs, especially how he's looked recently (beefy satoru, just one chance, please,,,). as for his partner, i'll skip the cheap answer of 'your personality,' even if it is true, but i'll settle for saying he's a fan of your back/shoulders. satoru's always got a hand around your waist or the small of your back, drawing patterns and shapes on it when he's bored. especially loves backshots to see it arch. definitely pushes down on it to help you go lower.

𝐜 = 𝐜𝐮𝐦 (𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐦)

if he isn't making out with you when he cums, he will pass away!!! just needs to be closer to you in any way possible (he is inside of you)

𝐝 = 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬)

would sneak away during missions, during periods of boredom, and jack off to a photo of you or a snippet of your voice he saved. can you blame him? he just misses you so much when he's away ˙◠˙

𝐞 = 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?)

i think he's played around a bit, but is definitely all bark with no bite. but he's canonically good at everything he does and tries, so... take that as you will, hehe~

𝐟 = 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

because of his fascination with your back, def would say backshots/doggy is his favorite. loves to watch you arch your back to take him deeper. just seeing your ass slap against his hips is enough to drive him wild.

𝐠 = 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜)

has his moments of goofiness. starting off, he might be a little unserious, but at some point he locks in. known to snap out of it in the moment and be silly if it calls for it!

𝐡 = 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

this man obviously looks after himself and his appearance, so he keeps it trimmed up v nice with a little white happy trail to match

𝐢 = 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭.)

pushing my 'gojo plays around until he's locked in for life' agenda yet again....but if you guys are fucking he's saying "i love you" unapologetically like it's a prayer. he wants eye contact, missionary, the whole nine yards to feel close to you in any way. if you've gotten far enough to fuck, he's putting it all out there.

𝐣 = 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧)

can only masturbate to you after you become official together. practically begs you to facetime him while he's away so you two can jack off together.

𝐤 = 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬)

praise/teasing/degrading are the main ones. he loves to tease/degrade, but gives in and praises just as much. he loves to be praised in return, along with a little bit of teasing. just to keep up with him and keep him on his toes, that's a turn on in and of itself.

𝐥 = 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬)

nothing beats the comfort of being home and being as loud as possible but satoru is a mischievous little man...he'd really enjoy the thrill of being on the edge of getting caught ♡ and if you are, what does he care? maybe you're due for a quickie in a public bathroom, or being bent over his desk before class. oh, oops! you'll have to be quiet though ᵕ̈

𝐦 = 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠)

satisfying his partner. he needs to be the best at everything, including making you cum ♡ a little paradoxical though. he puts his partners needs above his own (selfless) but to stroke his own ego (selfish)

𝐧 = 𝐧𝐨 (𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨)

sharing. he's a little possessive and protective of you and quite monogamous (when he's in an official relationship) so i think orgies/threesomes/open relationships would make him feel weird and sad. he'd get all pouty, y'know?

𝐨 = 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜)

this man is a munch, i'm sorry. seeing you from that angle, making you feel that good just from his mouth? unreal. that's enough to get him off alone. he loves receiving, but he'd beg you just to let him give you head.

𝐩 = 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥?)

he fluctuates! he loves being a big softie and be slow and sensual, but sometimes he gets a little too greedy. he just can't help himself when it comes to you.

𝐪 = 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

satoru loves a good quickie. he'd try and make time for a quickie anytime he can. if you're looking too good out to eat, if he thinks of you a little bit too much during the day...i think the only way to solve it is for him to be inside you as quick as possible. but he knows you're busy, so he asks and asks and begs until you give in just so he can be in n out before you can even really process it.

𝐫 = 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

he's game if you are! he likes to take risks when it comes to possibly getting caught, trying new positions, new toys, new kinks...he's down for it all if it'll make you feel good! what makes you feel good makes him feel good. and how could he say no to you?

𝐬 = 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭)

he can go all night if you'd let him ⋆˙⟡♡ but he is very respectful of your limits, and takes it at your pace. he likes to play around with how long he lasts. if you're begging him to cum in you, well, he might last for a little bit longer than usual just to make you beg a little more.

𝐭 = 𝐭𝐨𝐲 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬?)

he's stubborn enough to believe that you guys don't need toys because whyyy would you need anything more when he can make you feel good on his own? but he can be persuaded if you want to use them

𝐮 = 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)

prepare to get teased ! he'll mock the way you moan, the way you beg, even the faces you make. he just thinks you're so cute, you know? he can't help but to laugh at how you just fall apart when he's railing you. he'd deny you a kiss, the right to cum, pretty much anything just to get a rise out of you.

𝐯 = 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞)

oh, he's just got the prettiest moans around. he's very vocal during sex, showering you with praise and feedback. telling you you're beautiful, how good you feel, etc. ! when he's particularly needy he just blabbers on and on with his sweet little moans and whimpers in between. he cannot shut up if he tries.

𝐰 = 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝

he can't wear the blindfold during sex. he has to have his eyes all over you in every way possible. he'd shoulder the headache if he got to see the way your face looked in the afterglow. but he's not opposed to having you try it on ♡

𝐱 = 𝐱-𝐫𝐚𝐲 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬)

he's well endowed. let's be honest. maybe not on the girthy side, but he definitely makes up for it in length. almost angering how pretty it is (can he have one achilles heel?)

𝐲 = 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞?)

satoru has a high sex drive (hence all the quickies) but he understands that both of you live your own lives with your own time constraints. he'd love to fuck like rabbits if life allowed it, though

𝐳 = 𝐳𝐳𝐳 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬)

all those rounds takes a lot out of someone, poor thing☹ once he goes through your aftercare routine together, he's out. but he'd never leave you high and dry. satoru would make sure all your needs are met before you two could sleep together.

thank you for reading !! rbs are always appreciated ♡ do not copy, repost, or steal my work.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Could you tell us about grumpy cat Leona in the nonhuman au?

Rubs hands together.

The big grumpy meow-meow that doesn't meow.

Has toe beans and the fur on his body is the same color as his ears and tail.

Ruggie was a little worried at first about you two getting together cuz of possible extra work or you replacing him for stuff, meaning less money to earn but, nah. You keep Leona from overworking him and actually help Ruggie with a lot of things. He is pleased.

It doesn't happen often, but he may roar in his sleep, and this is a real lion roar. He can sleep through it but you and everyone else in the dorm sure as hell can’t. He gets pissy if you wake him up to stop or go to sleep somewhere else. He will also lick you in his sleep.

It doesn't matter how small you are, he will straight up lay on you and smother you when he feels like it.

He won't tell you but man he loves your praise. So, keep praising his looks, strength, and intelligence. You are probably the only thing that makes him want to put the effort into showing off. It becomes mandatory for you to come to his Spelldrive matches, please, do it for the good of the school.

He’s actually really good about not nicking you with his claws.

Loves to bite, nibble, and scrape his fangs against your skin.

When he first brings you home the first thing his brother blurts out is “Why are they small?” His wife of course scolds him and tells him “You can't just ask humans why they're small!”

Scents you as soon as you are out of the shower, he will also stare right at the person you're talking to as he rubs his chin against the top of your head, scenting you in public.

You will groom his main for him.

He refuses to call your petting...well petting. He keeps calling it grooming. He will be demanding that you do it though. Kind of like those cats that yell and head bonk you until you do it, except he will straight up lay his whole body on you if you try ignoring it. I hope you like being smothered by big meaty lion-man tits.

Leona has lots of good traits but let's all remember that, in canon, Leona in plain terms: is an arrogant and domineering man who’s as prideful as he is lazy. He tends not to waste his energy on those he deems inferior to him and is only willing to cooperate with others if it benefits him in some way. In the same vein, he puts little to no effort into activities that don’t interest him, like when it comes to his studies.

Now don’t get me wrong, he's also the type to see it as unfair and demeaning to treat others differently based on their inherent status, and wants to compete with others on a level playing field. Still, we've seen he isn’t above using underhanded tactics to ensure success. The guy is willing to do whatever it takes to prove himself as a worthy leader, the dominant lion, even if it means playing dirty.

Also stated on the wiki “Leona has stated he is intimidated by the women of the Sunset Savanna because they are much physically stronger and more strong-willed than the men, including himself. Ruggie corroborates this statement. This follows the biology of many savanna animals, such as lions and hyenas, wherein the females are hunters and typically dominant in nature.” and “It's only at Night Raven College, where he's treated as an equal, that Leona attempts to seek the dominion he cannot achieve back home.” 

Now add the extra dominance stuff that goes on with regular lions and add THAT onto a now even more beast-like Leona with his personality and with him actively looking to achieve that dominance plus you being a weak magicless human in a world of big strong beasts. You are not gonna be the one leading this relationship, even if you identify as a girl, cuz you are not a Sunset Savanna one.

Of course, Leona respects you though, he wouldn't have taken you as his mate if he didn't but…he’s a dick.

Now, your role? He expects certain to go like in the wild. You and him are your own pride with Ruggie and Jack being unofficial members. You know how Ruggie brings him food? That’s your task now. “Male lions defend the pride’s territory while females do most of the hunting.” Doesn't matter if you're a dude and…Ha, no he doesn't expect you to actually hunt. But he’s gonna want you to bring him food. (he gives you the money for it and then some, get yourself something nice) Expect his head on your lap, a pleased grin on his face as you hand-feed him.

If you tell him he went too far he’ll back off but…really likes comparing you to him, but in ways that show that he’s bigger and stronger. Teases you about being a weak little herbivore and how easy it would be to eat you.

His tongue has a bit of a rough texture but not nearly as rough as a regular lion's so you don't have to worry about the meat being scraped from your bones by it when he intensely grooms you.

(Talking about his junk and lion mating facts below)

Another thing he shares with his animal counterpart is penile spines, also known as barbs, luckily for you, lion beastmen evolved enough to wear they aren't the painful kind and are more like small nubs. Though they do have a similar reaction of stimulation ovulation and form a “genital lock”, basically it has a cat version of a knot. So, quickies aren't gonna be as quick and you will be subjected to mandatory after-sex cuddles.

As for the whole “going into heat” thing, female lions are only receptive to mating for a brief period, usually lasting three to four days, and they will go at it every 20-30 minutes for as long as the heat lasts. Humans don't go into heat, but the cooch havers do ovulate, which beastmen can in fact smell and will take this as you going into heat and he, unless told no, will react accordingly. Though…even with how he is it would be funny if it’s one of the times instincts kick in cuz…the thing is female lions can be pretty damn aggressive about it so imagine it’s the first time and he’s just laying there expectantly and looking annoyed, wondering why you haven't hopped on top of him and ravaged him yet.

Though another thing with lions is males will mount another male to excerpt dominance so imagine talking too much shit and you end up getting pinned down and humped by a pissed-off Leona.

[grippingbeskar]

duality

: ̗̀➛ joel miller x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content 18+ (mxf, f receiving, dirty talk, joel being a king as per usual) swearing, mentions of death, mentions of canon typical violence!

a/n: hii! this was based on this request right here - oh my god. i am obsessed with this, i really hope i did this justice! i kind of just started writing and went where it took me lmao. its all just smut at this point so like don't look to hard. also thank you to @everybirdfellsilent for the title name and answering my question "how do i write this?" with a simple "why not write both?!" you are a queen.

✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩

“Joel… what time is it?” You keep your eyes screwed shut when you begin to fight the muddiness of deep sleep away, but the early morning sunlight in Jackson always sneaks it’s way through. You stretch out, reaching for him in a natural reflex, and instead of answering you he just presses closer. You keep your eyes shut, letting your other senses guide your hands to his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him under your palms.

You could hardly open your eyes right now, but you could do this. Lay here with him— you could do that easily. You and Joel had a string of long days recently, and you’d hoped, or at the very least expected that he’d be so tired he’d sleep up until the last possible second.

Apparently you were wrong, as you feel him shift under your hands to the point you lose your hold on him. He kisses you once on the lips, light and feather soft, and you smile sleepily, toes curling at the gentle touch.

“Mornin’.” His voice rumbles through you, low and brassy, waking your bones before your brain could catch up. As his hair tickles the skin of your neck, you can feel him moving lower, the warmth of his body leaving your chest and hovering over your stomach.

You reach for him blindly, and he guides you back even when you sit up on your elbows and peak one eye at him. You watch him move, his own eyes still half lidded, but his hands more awake than ever. They slowly slide over your hips, drawing faint patterns with his fingertips. The warmth of his rough palms move further up over your tummy, pawing at you to lay down on your back. ‘Relax’, he whispers, and your chest tightens. He moves you languidly, using your half conscious state to mould you where he wants to put you, and you let him, no resistance in your muscles.

With a hand still sliding up and down your bare skin, he leans down close enough you can feel the touch of his nose on your cheek. Before you can move to take control, he dips his head. First down to your jaw, the heat of his mouth making you shiver when he kisses along all the sensitive spots. He’s light and quick, your delayed reactions making it easy for him to move without interruption. You wonder how long he’d been awake. Waiting for you to stir, just so he could see you squirm.

His tongue licks indulgent lines further down your body, teasing your skin with his lips following suit. He starts at your collarbone, then tucks the fabric of your shirt higher so he can see you bare below him. The blanket covers over his head, but the light is strong enough that you can see his eyes watching your reaction as he plants soft kisses down your chest. You swear he smirks when you arch your back, nearly groaning at the light but not nearly enough pressure.

Your hands finally wake themselves when he mouths at the skin of your lower stomach, brushing through the soft curls on the top of his head. He hums against you, eyes flicking up with warmth lining them, and smiles slightly. The sight tugs at a string of your racing heart, and you keep your voice low when you manage to speak.

“Joel, let me…” You fade off, eyes fluttering as you attempt to bring him back up to you. You want him to feel good too— so as much as you love where this is going, you know the two of you can’t have very long this morning, and you want to make the most of it. “C’mere.”

He shakes his head, mouth too busy to reply as it dives into the newly exposed skin of your thighs. At some point he’d taken your underwear off— or maybe he’d done it in your sleep, making sure you were ready for him in the morning.

You’d both been exhausted last night, so as badly as you’d wanted him, you knew neither of you could keep your eyes open for more than twenty seconds. Joel had grumbled a few curse words at how he couldn’t even hold himself up, and as soon as your heads hit the pillow, and you curled in on his chest light a weighted blanket, you were both out like a light.

Joel was clearly making up for lost time. Slowly, he spreads your legs, his hot breath fanning against your core. The feeling makes you unconsciously try to close yourself from him— the feeling and the way his eyes were staring so intensely at the most intimate part of you.

“Joel, come here—“ You try again, and his hair brushes the inside of your thighs when his head shakes again. His eyes look to you, and they almost look… pleading.

“Please, baby. I need this. Let me.” He sounds half broken— his voice cracking and hands gripping your hips. His hold wasn’t harsh, still keeping those gentle, sweet touches he’d started with, but it was enough to hold you down and keep you right where he had you. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear. So… so fuckin’ good. Don’t I always?”

His shoulders press you open wider, leaving no room for insecurity. You just nod your head as he stares up at you, wide eyed, waiting for permission. The lines of concern in his forehead disappear when he sees you agree, chest deflating like he was relieved.

He drags the tip of his nose lightly along your inner thigh, and you can feel your legs already shaking in anticipation. It was one thing Joel did so well; he almost didn’t know he did it. Making you wait. All day, he would work you up so subtly— soft touches, intense stares across the field. Words whispered only to you, so any reaction you had would seem out of line. And then here… indulging his every want and need while you sat patiently, waiting for him to decide when, and where, and how.

You’d do it over and over again, because you knew what came of it. What came when you did exactly what he wanted. Sometimes it was fun to fight him back, be a bit of a brat about it, but right here, when he was working you up so nice and asking so desperately— there wasn’t a damn thing in the world worth that.

“Fuck, baby you’re so pretty.” His teeth replace his nose, tracing the same line along the opposite thigh. His fingers massage circles into your hips as he feels you fidget and shake, the world still spinning slowly above you. “You’re gonna take it so well for me this mornin’, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah. A-anything you want. I just—“ Your breath hitches when he kisses closer to where you’re all but aching for him, right in the join between your leg and pussy. “I need—“

He groans into you, never giving you a chance to finish your sentence as he buries his tongue between your legs. You cry out louder than you mean to, the hand not buried in Joel’s messy hair slapping over your open mouth. Joel smiles against you, tongue swirling around your clit in the way he knows makes you dizzy with pleasure.

Everything was too hot. It was winter in Jackson, snow falling gently onto the windowsill, but the blanket over you mixed with the heat Joel was spreading up your stomach was too much. Your back arched and he took the change in direction with eagerness. Groaning your name, he flattened his tongue and caught your eyes before they rolled back into your head, his eyebrows furrowed and concentrated.

“Oh, god… Joel. Joel, Joel—“ It was all you could think of to say, the pleasure shooting white hot sparks up your spine and sliding you further down the bed into Joel’s onslaught.

He was messy. Joel ate you out with an enthusiasm you never found anywhere else. Maybe it was the fact that there was nothing good outside the four walls you’d both found yourself in, the rest of the world cold compared to the warmth of your bed— or maybe he just fucking loved it as much as he always said.

Whether he did this for you or for himself, Joel knew exactly how to build you up; it was so quick you couldn’t prepare for it. His hands held your hips tight as you squirmed— grinding your hips forward to match his pace as he let you use him to chase your release. The sounds he was making were only spurring you closer— slurred words of praise hardly audible, his voice horse and breaking like he could hardly manage them.

“Good— fuck, you taste good.” Each word is muffled underneath you, but it hits you hard in the chest. Being praised by anyone made your heart flutter, but when it was Joel? Capable, stoic, hard-as-nails Joel? It was entirely different. A whole other ball game. And he fucking knew it. “You close, baby. Fuck, I know you gotta be. So tight…”

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m so close…” You whimper and he hums in response, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. Your fingers gripped his hair harshly, his mouth only working harder to keep its lock on you. He wrapped his lips around your clit, eyes fluttering open halfway to watch you, and the sight is what undid you.

“That’s it. Fuck, there’s those eyes…” You hear Joel mutter but you can’t form words to reply. Everything was on fire, your stomach locking tight as the waves of pleasure wrapped you into a ball and burst over every inch of skin. It was cliche, but it felt like fucking fireworks went off in your chest, Joel’s hands an anchor keeping you from taking off with them.

He was halfway up your body when you came back to it, kissing and touching you so gently you could have cried if you had the energy. It was moments like these that he was the most vulnerable— where he couldn’t get enough of you, indulged himself in you, but did it with such sweetness and… well, love, that you knew the man he didn’t think he was anymore was still in there.

“So pretty. Sound so damn pretty when you cum for me.” He whispers against your mouth before kissing you hungrily. It’s teeth and tongue, a mix of you and him on your lips as he pulls away to look at you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your hands reach down to tug lightly at his boxers, and he huffs, shaking his head against your mouth.

“M’not done, baby.” His voice makes you shiver all over again, pleasure still stirring low and hot in your tummy. “S’fuckin’ good.”

“I can’t, Joel…” You whimper, his hand ever so slightly brushing between your legs. You jolt upwards, your body betraying your words.

“Yeah, you can. You can f’me, yeah?” He was already moving down, ignoring your whines as he made his way back to his favourite spot in this house. He was quicker this time, knowing you’d still be sensitive.

It was addicting. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made, the way you tasted— it was like the best game he’d ever played. Joel was an adrenaline junkie— he knew it. He was smart about it, but he longed for that rush of endorphins when he was winning a fight or putting bullets into bodies. Out of all the shit he’d done, though, nothing compared to this. The best adrenaline rush he’d ever felt was right here, hearing you scream his name as he tasted every fucking inch you of he could manage.

He was messier this time. Wrapping his mouth around you and swirling his tongue in quick, mind-numbing movements that had your fingers burying deeper into his hair. He nearly came at the feeling of it— you, trying your hardest not to hurt him but still yanking him into you, hardly giving him an inch to pull away. Not that he’d every fuckin’ dream of being dragged away from you now.

“Joel… too much. Fuck— I’m…I—“ He bucked his hips against the mattress, the way you whine his name is like a stab at his chest every time. His nose brushes against your clit again as he tastes you deeper, your voice broken and tapering off into barely there words.

He knows you’d stop him if it was really too much. He knows if he pulled away right now you’d drag him right back where he wants to be, where he knows he’s fucking good at being. Joel wants you closer— all day, he can’t fucking find it in himself to drag you under his arm or kiss you like he wants in front of all those people.

He was too possessive.

None of them get to see you like this, how your eyes get all soft when he kisses you, and how you sigh his name when your body moulds to his. No one else gets to see this. He’s the only one that can break you like this. So when he has you? He doesn’t stop until you make him.

“Just a little more f’me.” Joel’s low, cracking tone sends a violent wave of pleasure skittering across your stomach, butterflies erupting at the sound of him.

His movements weren’t timed anymore, still just as indulgent, but he was losing his control. His hands were tighter now, fighting against the surges of your body off the mattress. You hoped it would leave marks behind— proof of how badly he’d needed you this morning. How much he wanted you to Stay. Put.

“Baby, I can’t—“ You choke out, a hold on his hair so hard you swear you might rip it out.

“Mmhmm.” Is all he rumbles against you, and you think he speeds up, or does something different, or maybe he just looks at you again— because you drown in the onslaught of whatever it was as you feel the familiar rush of pleasure all over again.

This was something different. Everything tightened and released, and you could feel how wet you were— a damp mess underneath you only present when you could feel your heart begin to slow again. Joel doesn’t move from his spot, arms still wrapped around your thighs, fingers drawing slow circles into the shaking muscles.

“God, baby. Fuckin’… never get tired of seein’ that.” He wasn’t looking at you, at anything really. His eyes were shut, forehead pressed to your inner thigh as he tried and failed to catch his breath. “You feel good? You there?”

“Mm.” You push out, feeling the warmth of his laugh between your legs. “Can’t… can’t feel my legs.”

“S’okay. You’re not goin’ anywhere.” His eyes open again, half lidded, and he begins a slow descent, mouthing the bruises he’s left behind as he sinks down. Your back bends off the bed, but he presses you down with a gentle hand. “Lie back.”

“Joel… wait, I can’t. I—“ You can’t talk between small, shuddering breaths, and he just shakes his head, looking at the mess you’ve left behind.

“Keep sayin’ that, but here you are.” He stops, hovering over your stomach; waiting. Waiting for you to tell him to stop for real.

“Lemme keep goin’, darlin’. Just a little…” He groans at the way your hips shift lower, closer to his mouth despite your words. “Fuck. Little more. Need this.”

His nose brushes against your clit as he looks up, holding your eyes as he spits slowly down your centre.

“You like it, don’t you?” He says, a smile on his face even when his voice wavers. You whine, maybe in protest or impatience, but he coos at you either way. “I know. Shh. I know, baby. Just stay right…here.”

You think you black out when his mouth wraps around you again, sounds and colours all blending together in your mind in a way that nothing makes sense except for the way his tongue feels on you. Minutes or hours could go by— every responsibility you might have drifting to the back burner when he was here. Right here.

“M’right here. Never lettin’ you go.” He groans, his hips grinding into the soft covers, and you give in, knowing he’s got you.

✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩

It might of been a good morning, but it was another shitty day.

Winter in Jackson was good and bad. Good, because clickers and runners couldn’t make their way through the thick snow, and froze before they ever got close to the gates. It meant less patrols, less waste of resources, less need for supply runs; it was the closest to normal you got.

Bad, because while clickers weren’t made for the heavy fall of winter, neither were the fucking fences.

Everything broke down, cracked and froze during winter. There wasn’t a single area that didn’t need repairs, so while you weren’t needed on patrols, it meant you’d be out in the field, dragging plywood or banging nails into something. Even with all the hours you'd spent on your area, it felt like there was still miles to go, your hands aching by the time you found a minute to rest.

You could see Joel the entire day, too, which only made it worse for your wandering mind.

You could see him getting pissed off, ordering the young guys he’d been posted with around and up ladders. You know he’d want to relieve all that built up tension when he got home. Sometimes it was a matter of talking it out, listening in a way Joel wasn’t really used to before you. Other times you sat in silence, pressed up behind him in a steaming bath until you could hear his breath start to slow.

Today, you had a feeling it would be something a little different.

You hadn’t gotten to continue things at all this morning. By the time Joel dragged himself away from between your legs, he was already 45 minutes late to his post. Still, he walked you into the shower, holding you up on wobbly legs, trying his best not to get too distracted with how you kept kissing his jaw and looking up at him all innocent. He managed to get you dressed, too, and with no time to spare he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and all too suddenly you were standing out in the snow, alone.

So that, and the fact you could see, and sometimes even hear his low voice grumbling orders all day was doing nothing to help your focus.

When you finally saw the sun begin to go down, you didn’t spare a second before you all but sprinted off, bursting through the door of your shared home. You quickly shook off your clothes, the warmth of your house making you strip down to just one of Joel’s old t-shirts. Now, you waited.

When the door burst open a few hours later, you were like a dog hearing a lead. You jumped out of the bed, watching Joel from the top of the stairs as he carefully stepped through the threshold. He’d found the carpets laying on your floor for you a few months ago, and he knows how much you love them, so he balances on one leg as best he can to take his muddy, snow covered shoes off before he called out to you.

“You home, darlin’?” He kept his voice soft in case you were sleeping, but smiled when he caught you basically hanging over the stairs. “There she is.”

“You’re late.” You say, squinting down at him with a smile and your arms crossed.

“Didn’t realise I had a curfew.” He smirked, shaking off his jacket and abandoning it over the couch. Playful Joel was one of your favourites. It made you as warm as the crackling fire behind you.

“Well, you do. And you’re late, so better get moving.” He raises his eyebrows, a bigger smile playing on his face as he walks to the bottom of the stairs.

“You know, I was gonna cook you dinner and everythin'. Do a real nice thing here. How longs it been since we did that?” He walks slow, every step groaning under the weight of him. Your heart swells at the idea, and if you weren’t so hell bent on jumping on him, you’d take him up on it.

"That sounds n-nice." You take a step back as he gets closer, something about him still intimidating you- even when you knew the man underneath. “Plenty of time to eat tomorrow, though."

When he finally clears the stairs, you don’t have time to blink before he’s surging in front of you. His hands find their home on your hips, staying light when they pull you toward him and make up the rest of the small distance between you. He must remember how hard he held you down this morning.

“Is that my shirt?” He mumbles into your hair, already knowing the answer. He nudges your face to his own, smirking confidently. "You miss me that bad?"

“Nope. It’s Mark’s from today. I just got sooo hot lifting all those planks of wood I had to take all my clothes off, so he—“ You’re cut off by your own squeal when he lifts you up, hands gripping your ass tightly.

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Joel growls low in your ear, but you can feel him smiling against your skin as he walks you to your bedroom, kissing you dizzy.

It’s a little embarrassing how easily he drives you to the brink. All he has to do is say your name a few times, whisper it against your skin, and kiss you like this, and you’re gone again. His. You’re his to mould and bend, your arms lifting as he drags the fabric of his old shirt up your stomach and chest.

He watches with an intense stare, goosebumps rising where the fabric brushes lightly over your sensitive skin. When he finally slips the shirt over your head his control snaps and he’s on top of you, and he’s everywhere.

His hands slide up your sides, spanning the entire space of your waist and ribs, coming over your chest and cupping your breasts in his hands. You arch your back, chasing his mouth as it presses hungry, quick kisses between movements, his fingers catching over your nipples making you moan his name.

“Thought about you all day.” You confess, nipping the skin of his jaw. He huffs a breath, your hands tangling once again in his hair. It’s still slightly wet from the cold, curling around your fingers in something like ringlets. “Needed you so bad, Joel.”

“Greedy little thing. Didn’t get enough this morning?” He laughs, and it's almost mean- teasing. You roll your hips into him slowly. It wipes the smirk off his face, turning it into an almost painful scrunch of his brow. “Fuck.”

“You didn’t let me touch you.” You whine, rolling into him again. He drops to hold himself up on his forearms, hands touching you where they can reach. “Always want to touch you, Joel.”

“Shit, you gotta stop talking like that or…” You repeat the slow movement of your hips, and he runs out of words, practically whining into your mouth.

“It’s true.” You bite his bottom lip, a little harder than necessary. “Wanna fuck you all the time. It’s distracting. Always… always think about it.”

Joel moans your name brokenly, and you take your chance. A small push with your leg collapses him on his back next to you, only that easy because he wasn’t expecting it. He’s sitting with his back against the headboard, and before he can shuffle down you straddle him, locking him in place underneath you.

One of his hands grabs the back of your neck, hauling you to his mouth, and you let him take control. You might be sitting on top of him, fiddling with his belt and tugging his pants down, but he is still in control. You know he could flip the switch in a second, and he’s just indulging you, but you take what you can get.

It’s so rare he lets you take care of him. You could count on one hand how many times he’s really let you do the work, but when the opportunity comes, you were going to take it and run with it.

He was still searching your body, fanning out his fingers and running them down your spine, leaning you closer. He takes off his shirt so he can feel you against him, his tongue licking into your mouth like he needs to learn you inside and out. When you finally get his pants off, you don’t waste a second, both of you gasping when you feel the thick head of him against your heat.

“H-hold on, you gotta… Jesus Christ.” Joel curses, his forehead pressed to yours. “Let me get you ready for me.”

“Mm-mm. Ready. Please…need it.” You shake your head, angling your hips just right, and he slumps forward in something like defeat when your hand snakes down and presses him inside of you. “Oh, god.”

"Fuck. Slow down, baby. Nice and slow." He stutters out, his hands coming to your hips to try and hold you up. Joel was... big. Big enough to the point where you should of taken your time, worked yourself up a bit more, but you just wanted him so bad-- "Hey, look at me."

Your eyes flutter up to him, and he kisses you quickly, like its an apology. You stay there, feeling the slight sharp pain fade quickly with how desperate you want him, how fucking wet you were already. In a few seconds you try to move again, and Joel's hands tighten around you.

"You can stop, baby. It's okay, you--"

"No! Don't want to. Just... fuck me, Joel." You say a little harsher, shaking your head where its now tucked into the crook of his neck. You sink down further against the push of his hands, and he groans your name lowly as you feel him split you open, taking the last inch of him.

Your hands were still tangled in his hair, and where you were rendered speechless, he couldn't seem to shut himself up.

"Fuck. So fuckin' tight, Christ." You feel his palm on your ass, pushing you forward just slightly, creation a friction that has you whining. "Yeah, I know baby. Feels good. Fuck, you feel so good."

When you don't feel that pain anymore, you start to grow desperate for more. Joel was right. You were greedy tonight, and the friction of your hips against his just wasn't enough. You wrap your arms around his neck, shutting up his rambling with a lazy kiss, and use him to rise up just a little, before sinking down again.

He says something into your mouth, but the words are lost when you begin to repeat the same motion over and over again. Heat builds in waves, crashing higher and higher in your stomach until it makes your toes curl, your jaw dropping open to moan a broken version of Joel's name.

Your eyes roll back, head falling to the side, leaving you open to Joel's mouth who sucks harsh marks just below your jaw. You know you'll be covered in them tomorrow, but right now you don't care. You can't seem to care about anything else, except the way Joel is buried so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him everywhere.

"Focus on me. Need to see those pretty eyes, girl." He nudges you straight, your neck no longer able to support the weight of your head as it falls forward to rest on Joel. He groans again, matching your pace with his own movements, and you get louder with the added force. "Fuck, that's it. Let 'em hear you."

Everything turns molten inside of you, liquid heat spreading from the tips of your toes to your heavy head, and if Joel wasn't fucking you back so hard you don't think you'd be upright. As soon as he was inside you, you lost all sense of direction and control, like your body knew to trust him, to give yourself over to him.

His hands wrap tightly around your waist, bodies pressed together as he takes the work out of it for you. You move together— you’re so close you don’t have a choice, and when the hot, tingling feeling ripples up your spine you can only do exactly what he’s telling you.

“Take it, baby. Take it. Good— fuck, good girl.” His head drops from where it was pressed heavy against your forehead, dipping into the crook of your neck. Your palms can feel the release in his back, the way he relaxes as he finally gives himself to you. The noise he makes, and how he almost whines your name is a calling card, hauling you over the edge with him.

He rides it out. Makes it linger, all the pleasure and relief flooding your body in burning waves, and when his hips start to slow, his mouth trails kisses from your neck, all the way up your jaw and to your mouth. He breathes in when you breathe out, both of you wiped from exhaustion, but he can’t pull himself away.

It was like this morning, how even though his back was cramped and he was late as fuck to work, he couldn’t stop. At the expense of himself, he’d starve himself of everything if it meant being here with you.

“Christ, darlin’. Fuck, you’re so good t’me.” He says it like it’s a bad thing— words laced with an anxious wave, like you’d realise it wasn’t right, and leave. Even with him still buried inside of you. “Look at me.”

Your eyes blink open, hands still tangled in the curls of his hair. You can’t tell him all the things you want to— how he deserves this. How much you want to give him, and how if anything, you were the one who didn’t deserve this. Instead, you smile at him, and it seems to say everything all at once.

“You okay?" Joel's muffled voice asks, holding you tightly against him.

"Mhmm." You hum happily, a sleepy smile on your face as his hands cup your face. You feel his thumbs trace the high points of your cheeks, and his lips press to your nose before your eyes open.

You stay right there, his eyes watching you with no real purpose, just taking in the sight of you here with him. When the two of you finally muster the energy to go down stairs, Joel follows through with his promise to cook for you, and for this first time all day, your complete attention is captured.

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ oh no, yoruichi shihouin has another subordinate under her spell.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, usage of y/n, 2nd pov, reader is part of 2nd division, slight canon bleach verse, power dynamic, reader have a slight background because you truly can't write a x reader fic with a blank reader, finger sucking, top!yoruichi, nipple play, breasts play, clit play, usage of spit, tribbing/scissoring, bottom!reader, mdni

sticky note from deja — was listening to the best 1d member solo album and remembered that him & kehlani came out with this banger.

You had a crush. The crush in question is your superior. The head of the Shihouin clan. The captain of the 2nd Division. The commander in chief of Onmitsukidō. The Yoruichi Shihouin. This was bad—quite reckless if you were going to be honest with yourself and your delusions. Especially as a subordinate of hers. Merely a member of the Onmitsukidō and Division 2 who was still an outcast due to traveling rumors of favoritism due to how much and how long you’ve been by Yoruichi’s side since you joined. So long that you’ve developed a crush on Yoruichi that you didn’t even think felt right.

She was your captain. You weren’t even supposed to be looking at her in that manner. It wasn’t like nothing could ever happen between you two—that would break some rules, right? Were there even any rules about what you were mentally alluding to? Maybe. Did you care about these possible rules? No….Maybe. Having a crush on your captain can get complicated. It was a major distraction. How can you complete tasks that you were assigned if your mind keeps lingering off to think about the raven-haired woman?

“Your head has been in the clouds lately, can you keep up out there?” A voice interrupts your thoughts before you regain your composure.  

When you glanced up from the paperwork you were assigned to do, you saw Soi Fon waltzing in to possibly see if you were working. She tended to do that since you joined Division 2. You would have thought that Yoruichi herself told her to do the micromanaging the young woman has done since you joined. However, you just saw it as Soi Fon wanting what’s best for Yoruichi. Which was having the most skilled and ambitious fighters at her side in the Onmitsukidō. You didn’t take offense to it because you mentally were admitting that in your head indeed had been in the clouds. But would you admit that to her? No. 

“Of course,” You uttered as your eyes glanced up from your paperwork. “Can you?” Your lips coil into a grin seeing Soi Fon tip toe into the room.

Light as a feather, you would always describe the young woman because you never know when she’s walking behind it. It was amazing—quite imaginable if you asked yourself. You and Soi Fon’s relationship was odd. It wasn’t like it was bad blood between you two. You just can sense that she didn’t trust you. But they didn’t shock you, you did join Division 2 quite late and in complimentary of Yamamoto who was a good friend of Grandma’s. Hush rumors went around that your being here was merely a favor after your grandma didn’t know what else to do with you after the third marriage proposals went into one ear and out the other with you. 

You can feel her presence as she sits in front of the chabudai watching you do paperwork. It was frankly the only thing you did despite knowing how to fight—really well, actually. Your pending crush on the captain did blossom from just seeing her out of the blue (that was possible and you oddly believed in love at first sight, okay?), it blossomed from the late-night training of catching you up with everyone else. Which you were extremely grateful for. However, no one knew about this. Not even Soi Fon. Sometimes when the woman would be her usual overbearing self, you wanted to gloat about the training you’ve had with the captain. Purposely knowing how much that would crawl under Soi Fon’s skin after her blunt comments that have been thrown jabbing at you constantly. 

“Of course, I can.” She utters in disbelief that you would even question that. “It’s just odd, it’s as if you’ve popped up in thin air.” She hums slowly watching you write.

“It’s none of your business.” You added. “Don’t you have some task to do or something?”

“You’ve been here for hmm, three months now and have yet been assigned to-“ 

Your words were interrupted by the sound of the door of the room sliding open. Your eyes saw another member of Division 2 claiming that Yoruichi wanted to see you. She probably wanted the paperwork you were doing. You stood up collecting your things eyeing Soi Fon’s expression. Mentally taking a bite at how it changed at the sound of the captain’s name leaving someone’s lips. You didn’t even wish her farewell out of respect like usual, but instead made your way to Yoruichi’s chambers through the crisp night. 

Your mind raced with thoughts of why she would want to talk to you. You stayed out of trouble and practically kept to yourself. You ensured paperwork was done thoroughly—even triple-check it on some days. But when you stepped through the doors, you were expecting to be scolded. However, the energy in the room felt calming. So instantly you relaxed. Your shoulders fell with ease and you found yourself unclenching your first anticipating the worst.

“I been meaning to talk to you all day, but have been swamped with other matters.” Yoruichi beckons for you to come further in and you did what you were told. 

You haven’t been in her chambers before, so automatically this felt strange. As if it was tilting over the boundaries that you told yourself you would put up as your crush only blossomed more. But who were you to defy your captain, especially given that she has helped you tremendously? 

“I have some news for you, but I’m not sure if it’s good or bad news.” She sighs as she plops down on the pillows. 

You sat down on one of the floor pillows, your eyes immediately going to the paperwork that was on the small table. 

“I didn’t want to pry that old man in Division 1 about you and being who I am, I had to do some digging.” Yoruichi’s lips form a straight line before she sips from her cup. “You’re one special young woman, Y/N.” She adds. 

Then it hit you that the paperwork on the table was about you. From your bloodline to the mystery event that made your grandma send you away in the first place. You had a feeling that could come back to haunt you. You were considered a cursed child, rumors going around that it was due to your mother’s infidelity. You didn’t believe it until that night. The night you nearly killed a man you were originally betrothed to. You didn’t remember much from that night. It was as if you blacked out and when you finally came to your senses, you held a a knife to the man’s throat. 

“Are you going to-”

“For you to even think that is insulting, to say the least.” Yoruichi’s fingers traced alongside the rim of the cup she was sipping on. Her eyes glance over your confused expression before speaking once more. “If you train hard enough, you can control whatever is that is inside of you. We have worked together and I know you can

Your faces were inches apart, you could smell the scent of her. It smelt comforting and intoxicating. Your mind was yelling at you to call it a night. That you should head off to bed early considering your tasks for Soi Fon in the morning. But the pulse in between your thighs said something completely different.

You lean forward, your elbows resting on the table. “I don’t think so, I nearly killed someone.”

“And that’s why you’ll be assisting Soi Fon, tomorrow.” 

“Seriously? She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you.” Yoruichi lets out a boastful laugh before leaning forward also. “She just doesn’t trust you.”

“And possibly jealous I’m stealing her time with you.” You uttered gaining a snicker from Yoruichi. 

The two of you sat in silence before Yoruichi stated, “You’ll do fine. I’m sure of it. I have seen you train. When you’re in your element, you truly know what you’re doing.” She grins at you and your cheeks instantly heat. 

The distance between you two was practically nonexistent and frankly, you wanted to delusionally admit that each passing second—you moved closer. 

Kiss her, Y/N.

You did just that without thinking about the consequences. But that was just you, you made decisions without thinking about the consequences. It’s the reason why you were here in the first place. It was the reason why your grandmother sent you away from the family estate. 

And she kissed back. 

This was wrong, right? The taste of Yoruichi’s lips on yours was wrong. You shouldn’t have been able to taste the sake she previously was drinking. This was breaking the rules you made up in your head during your time being here. During your time training with her, you can play catch-up with the rest of her comrades. Her lips linger upon your elegant-shaped jawline, trailing harsh kisses while her fingers are undoing your attire. Ultimately you can stop her, you can stop all of this and head to your room to listen to the sound of crickets creating late-night tunes. But you didn’t. You enjoyed this—correction, you were longing for this. Perhaps just this moment would set you straight. Just this moment would have you pushing your jarring thoughts about the captain out of your mind now that you kissed her. Or maybe this can go truly wrong? You two can cross this boundary and it’ll never be the same. 

You guess you’ll figure that out when you get there though.

Her hands cup at your exposed breast, fingers rolling your marbled nipples in between them gaining a moan from you. For once your previous complaints about how far Yoruichi’s chambers were from the rest weren’t there because you didn’t think no one would hear your quivering moans. Her lips trail down to your collarbone and back to your lips while she continuously rolls your brown-shaded hardened nipples between her fingers. Occasionally yanking at them to gain a yelp from you so she can let her tongue slither into your mouth. Her fingers that previously toyed with your nipples like they were stress balls travel down below your waist, fingers climbing into your panties that dampened at her previous motions. But before Yoruichi did anything else, she stopped.

She was perhaps having the same thoughts you were having. How inappropriate was this? How this shouldn’t be happening? How wrong was this? But as she broke the kiss, to stared at your exposed chest. Your breasts were fully exposed and you were thinking that maybe this is where you should stop this from happening, but Yoruichi’s words took you by shock.

“Take your clothes off,” 

Her words didn’t come off as harsh, but they didn’t come off as soft either. Either or, you did what you were told, disrobing your uniform and tossing it to the side. The coolness of the night caused a chill to run over your body. Or it could have been Yoruichi’s gaze with her golden eyes. Felt like you were under strict supervision by a stealthy cat that didn’t want you to get away. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat before eventually, Yoruichi’s back upon you. Harsh kisses, spit being shared, and a throbbing clit that was playfully being toyed with. The captain was driving you insane as each minute went by. Your pussy throbbed for some form of action and when you anticipated that Yoruichi would finally cave and give you what you wanted, you were met with her edging you on. 

She grabs you closer after prompting your leg upon her shoulder. The beaded anklet your grandma gave you years ago brushes against Yoruichi’s ear and even the sight of that had your cheeks heat in anticipation. Her fingers drag across your swollen lips, caressing them delicately like they were soft pillows. Her index and middle fingers found a place in your mouth. Your saliva coating her slender fingers that you wished were inside of you.

“Suck them.” She says, her voice is a sultry whisper.

You did what you were told. Sucking on her finger as if it was the best thing ever. Rings of saliva coating them without care before Yoruichi’s letting them toy with your pussy. Your body reacted immediately, slick coating the inside of your thighs as she’s letting her fingers rub at your clit in slow circles. Your toes curled in anticipation as you’re glancing down at the way her skilled fingers toyed with your clit. Your essence stained her fingers like a sin while you let out breathy whimpers to ensure how Yoruichi was making you feel. 

“Look at how wet you are, kitten.” She teases, fingers rubbing teasing circles on your throbbing bud. Her index and middle fingers circle around your entrance and like a sex-deprived woman—you anticipated her to slide her slim fingers inside you (that’s what you wanted). But teasingly she’s back rubbing at your clit, getting enjoyment at the sight of you whither below her. 

Yoruichi was well aware that you were about to cum. She can tell by the look of pure ecstasy on your face. Your eyebrows burrow together attractively and if Yoruichi concentrates hard enough, she can even see your eyes beginning to water. Greedily, Yoruichi slows down the pace of her fingers nipping at your clit. Each second she slows down her motions, she watches as your eyes light up in complete dread as your orgasm is tugged away from you instantly. She’s letting your leg drop from her shoulders without a care, leaving you a panting naked mess while she removes her clothes. 

You thought to pitch yourself. Perhaps, you were sleeping, in some form of dream. But with each layer that was removed from your captain’s body causing you to gawk at her beauty—you realized that this was real. That you were about to have the privilege to see the head of the Shihouin clan bare, nude, naked…and your mind was spinning at the thought. Your heart was bouncing around your chest as quickly as it was beating. Even if the woman snatched your orgasm away as if it merely was a privilege, you felt yourself grow wet at the sight of her. Her toned physique made your mouth water. From the way her body curved elegantly without her trying. The perkiness of her breast to the dark shade of her areola. 

In such a provocative position, your cheeks heat instantly as she’s positioned herself in between your legs. The warmth feeling of her clit on yours sent a chill down your spine. It did not cause fear to tremble your bones, but more so a chill that was pleasurable—completely enjoyable. You squirmed under her touch, yearning for some form of friction on your throbbing clit. Desperately bucking your hips impatiently. 

“Settle down, kitten. I’ll give you what you want if you say please.” Her eyes stared down at you, wet clit kissing yours as she waited for you to beg. 

“Please.” Your words came out like a plea for mercy. 

And as promised, she gave you what you wanted. Hips rocking just to feel the pleasurable feeling of your clit on hers. 

You wanted to question God, how could you be so lucky? How can you be so lucky to be able to utter Yoruichi’s name like a sweet bird tune while her clit rubbed against your own? How can you be so lucky to see the way her plush lips spread apart to let out a moan of satisfaction? 

You didn’t mind how tight she was holding your thighs apart just so her clit can rub against yours even faster. The only thing you cared about at the moment was the fact that you had Yoruichi in between your thighs. The thoughts about how this was breaking some form of unwritten rule were pushed further to the back of your head as each rock of her hips and each pornographic sound of heated skin rubbed against each other. How can you even think about rules when she was talking to you like this? 

“That feels good, kitten?” When she navigates her hips in a circular motion. 

“Be a good girl and cum for me one time,” She’ll coo. 

How can you think about rules when you were about to cum merely by her rubbing her clit on yours? 

When you made eye contact with her, you felt your stomach engulfed in a feeling you hadn’t felt before. The force of your orgasm was piling up in the pit of your stomach, but that didn’t stop Yoruichi. Her clit still happily rubbing against yours without the fact that you were holding back an orgasm. 

“Fuck.” The woman utters under her breath, this time her nails dug into your soft brown skin leaving a crescent moon mark. Her eyes shifted close before her rocking upon your clit grew a bit sloppy. A spasm of humps upon your clit like a cat in heat before she finally came undone. 

Here that thought of privilege you felt returned. The mere sight of Yoruichi when she was coming down from an orgasm felt like a dream. It felt so unreal, but when your hands went to grasp her sweat-coated body, you knew that this happened. With one harsh rock of her hips and intense eye contact with you, you finally felt your legs tremble in ecstasy. Completing cuming together in tune like lovers who've known each other’s bodies for centuries before she’s plopping down next to you.

You had to transfer divisions, immediately. 

Before this gets even more out of control. Or worse, you have one of your blacked-out episodes.

⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @honeybleed @ayyy-pee @tojiscumdumpster @salaciousdoll @shamelesshoefairy @lunerenzo @antizenin @aizens-third-leg @strawhatsav @batmanslittlelover @hiiighforthiss @neesieiumz

[heartlesscorpse]

GHOSTFACE! ⋆｡°✩👻🔪

Ohmygod look a Ghost. Ghostface posting ha??? How fuckin’ cool is that????? I think it’s pretty neat :)) And speaking of Ghostface I’ve gotten too fond of this man recently (besides my beloved Pyramid Head ofc), so I thought why tf not give it a whack and write something of this doofus??? And bc this is a first writing smth for Ghostface, I’ve decided go with DBD’s Ghostface, Danny Johnson because I found him pretty easy to navigate with lore-wise and much easier to invent things with this silly little man, (Stu Macher was one to come to mind but I decided no bc Danny looked more fun to write besides a Ghostface from Scream movie franchise). So yeah, anymore posts of this menace in the future is mainly going to be surrounding Danny Johnson.

OFF TOPIC NOTE BUT— recently I’ve been considering of maybe opening up requests with writing head canons and things for Pyramid Head and Ghostface for the fun of it besides mainly writing things for myself, a possibility some time in the future, but for now I’m sticking with reblogs and randomly writing things whenever an idea comes to me. Anyways moving onto my fucking shenanigans now—

It’s been some weeks then and unbeknownst to you, you had grabbed the attention of the infamous killer in Roseville.

Another few days in and you’re already noticing some peculiar shit going on. Some of your stuff’s missing, you found your lock on your door open, you got a strange call from somebody. Shit be getting pretty fuckin’ creepy and you’re not liking it one bit.

Ofc Danny wouldn’t give a shit— it’s all going so smoothly and according to plan! Sooner or later from there he’ll get to reveal himself as your stalker and the hunt officially begins once you pick up that phone.

It’s all going way too fuckin’ smooth, hell it’s smooth sailing for this man, and then he’ll cut to the chase and finally go in for the kill to immortalizing his next victim in his header for tomorrow’s papers.

BUT NO- apparently he underestimated you, fucking severely, and you ended up surviving his attack and the invasion into the personal space of your very own home. Danny was shocked overall, he’d least expect you to be shitting your pants from fear, because everybody in Roseville would know about his reputation.

Of course Danny was pretty pissed, a smart one that you are. But at the same time, after watching you countlessly and seeing you in action, he found you rather interesting in some ways.

And now he’s stalking you almost every night — for different reasons of course. He had the rule for himself to never get attached to any of victims but he couldn’t resist this magnetic pull towards you for some reason. Of course he might still try to kill you here and there, otherwise where’s the fun if he’s not keeping you on your toes???

He’s making this shit confusing for you, you don’t know if he’s either wanting to kiss you or kill you, hell, it could be both.

And you shouldn’t be surprised at all due to the fact that this mf’s going to be showing up at your house guaranteed. You might tell him to buzz off but he won’t. :)

Even though he knows your name he’s already coming at ya with the fuckin’ nicknames, like: Bunny, little mouse, brat (lovingly), babes, sweetheart, literally anything he could think of for you.

Obsessive behaviour be really fucking cooking.

Overtime you somehow got used to Ghostface’s looming presence no matter how much of a flirtatious nuisance he is and it sort of sprouted into a weird dynamic from there.

And Danny on the other hand is obviously not getting bored of you at all any time soon, it’s never going to fucking happen bae. But you still find him annoying most of the time whenever he comes swinging by. And now you have Roseville’s infamous serial killer utterly fond with you and never letting you go. Can’t have shit in fuckin’ Roseville. >:((

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

[peachesofteal]

that recent non canon thing of darling + soapghost.. WHEWWWWW

Right?! It’s been eating away at my brain a little. I hinted a bit about Johnny wanting kids when they were shopping for a new place, but canon Simon and Johnny would never swap Darling’s bc or do anything like this.

But, it is fun to think about…

18+ Minors DNI: Dubious consent. Explicit sex, breeding kink.

If they were just a little bit more lost to the darkest sides of themselves, just a little bit more twisted up in their heads and their hearts, they’d hatch a plan to swap your pills. Johnny would keep you tied up on the couch, half swaddled in a blanket and enclosed in his arms, distracting you with sweet kisses and gentle touch, lulling you into a relaxed state while Simon makes the swap as quick as he can. They’ve already decided, they won’t lose you. They’ll do whatever they need to do, to keep you with them, for as long as they live.

That kind of thinking is what brings them together in bed that night, with you spread out between them. It’s what has Johnny buried in you so deep he’s pressing against your cervix while you’re bent over two pillows that sit beneath the small of your back, lips mouthing along Simon’s cock, a fine distraction, as he pulls your legs by your knees back towards your shoulders, spreading you wide so Johnny can fuck his come into you as deep as possible. Johnny fucks into wildly, chasing his orgasm, chasing his dreams of a baby with you, with Simon, his body desperate to plug you as full of his come as he can, and then locking himself against you so not a single drop can spill out.

When you come, cunt clenching down around him, they both praise you, eager to wring as many orgasms from your body as possible, old wives tales telling them this will make it easier, will help it take faster.

“Fuck, darling. What a good girl, coming on my cock.” He hisses between clenched teeth, composure completely shredded. He fills you with a shudder, eyes clenched tight as you gasp, body trembling when he curls himself to notch his nose against your cheek, breathing heavily and whispering sweet assurances in your ear.

When they switch, you giggle, hazy and content, wiggling away from your spot until Johnny stills you with a soothing hand along your stomach.

“Hold still, that’s it.” He coaxes, stroking your skin while Simon settles between your legs. He can’t help but bend forward to press the softest kiss against your belly, next to where Johnny’s hand sits. He nuzzles his cheek against his fingers, and you sigh, like you’re in on their little secret.

“We love you.” He croons, and you tuck your bottom teeth between your lip. “We love you so much, darling girl.” You begin to say it back, but he pushes into you, his movements slick with the aftermath of Johnny’s orgasm and yours, pushing him along until there’s a fire raging in his gut and his toes are curling. You’re moaning, squeezing down around him, like you want him to fill you, breed you, give you his baby and he can’t resist it, visions of you heavy carrying their child sparking across his mind like he’s seeing stars until he’s coming with a shout.

And it most likely it doesn’t even take that time.

[izombie-ao3]

❝ Following the disappearance of your paternal figures in 1995, you- the offspring- receive a letter in the mail detailing of their possible whereabouts. The prospect of them being alive after going missing for ten years grasps at you. Waisting no time, you take hold on the letter and rush out the door with keys in hand. Your destination is as clear as day: Playtime Co. ❞ (x)

//

Word count: 27,051

Tags: Reader’s pronouns are YOU/YOUR & THEY/THEM, Reader is gender neutral, Reader is an adult aged 25, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Love, Strong friendships, strong feelings, Reader IS DogDay’s angel (not literally), DogDay would die for Reader, DogDay is NOT a child, DogDay is an ADULT, occasional flirting (?), Dark Humor, Blood and Gore, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Angst, Fluff, DogDay lives, This is my Roman Empire and I will die for it, Cannon Typical Violence, Freeform writing, No beta we die like Mommy Long Legs, Possible romance between DogDay and Reader, Friends to Lovers, I kissed canon in the mouth and abandoned it on the side of the highway, Cannon Divergent, CATNAP DIES, (Updated tags)Reader and DogDay are MOST DEFINITELY in love, All characters are written as ADULTS, there are no children in this fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapters: 17/?

Status: Temporary Hiatus

You were shaking from head to toe in a mixture of excitement, anticipation and worry. It was all far too much for your brain to comprehend at once; ten years- it has been ten WHOLE YEARS since your parents disappeared in 1995, and only now you get a letter basically telling you to come find them? That there’s hope that they could maybe still be alive?

“It’s... it’s insane, really, it truly is... but-“ you sigh, steeling yourself, hands tightening on the steering wheel of the car. “-It’s all I have to go off of...”

And just like that, you stick your key in the ignition and turn it, listening as the engine roars to life.

As you drive to the destination with the help of your phone’s GPS, you can’t help but wonder what you’ll say when you see them- your parents- after so long.

You half wonder if they’ll even remember you... Surely they will?

They have to.

By the time you arrive at the destination of Playtime Co.’s now seemingly abandoned building, the sun has slowly begun to set, dusting the sky a beautiful iridescent orange-pink, you wager that there’s likely only two hours left of sunlight before the whole world goes dark.

With one last glance at your car, you turn your attention to the large ominous building and feel a strange feeling wash over you and though you can’t find the right words to explain it, you can tell that a certain thickness hangs in the air.

Somethings not right with this place and you’re starting to doubt yourself and that letter. What if the sender has less than pure intentions?

What if your parents really are gone for good?

Would coming here have been nothing but a waste?

Will you find the answers to your questions?

You shake your head and sigh through your nose, clenching your fists together you brace yourself for the arduous journey ahead.

You’re here now and there’s no going back.

You need answers.

As you wandered around the halls of the deserted building, you found VHS tapes that when played back on the VCR gave you small tidbits of information about the people employed there and the place itself. It’s all very interesting information that helps you slowly understand what occurred here...

But, there is ONE glaring issue that you would’ve never thought about when first walking through those doors; being chased by an oversized toy!

You could feel as your heart pumped at an alarming pace in your chest, it was beginning to feel like at any moment it would jump out of your throat just like in those Sunday morning cartoons you used to watch as a kid.

And the cramp ness of the conveyer belt’s segments didn’t make things easier for you as you weaved from one corner to the next, desperately trying to escape your pursuer who was hot on your heels.

By the time you finally manage your escape out of the conveyer belt, you find yourself on a metal walkway with a colorful box hanging precariously nearby. Quickly, you use the mechanical hands from your grabpack suit to hold onto the box and just as you bring it slamming down, the walkway snaps in two beneath your feet.

The gigantic blue toy that had been chasing you falls through the void of darkness below, making contact with the pipes on its way down and in doing so you see... blood...?

You can’t help but blink, bewildered at the sight of blood, especially from a...toy.

But, no matter, you now that it’s too dangerous now to continue to linger, you need to trudge on.

“FIND THE FLOWER” you remember the words on the note, the mental image of the poppy flower etched into your mind, you have to find it, for it’ll lead you to the answers you seek.

The sight that greets you is a concerning one, in front of you is the door that you’ve been looking for, it is surrounded by an enormous painting of the same flower that was drawn in the note mailed to you and near it are various toys strung up with word of warning written around the door;

NO RUN

GO BACK

STOP

TURN AROUND

You don’t know what to make of it and it worries you, you’ve come so far and evaded death only to be met with...this? With... warnings? Warnings to turn back and stop?

You hesitate for a moment, but reach for the door job regardless. Opening it leads you down an impossibly long hallway decorated with yellow floral wallpaper and wall lamps, yet you relentlessly follow it.

The answer to what you seek lies at the end of... Surely...?

When you finally make it, you enter a small room where red light floods the room, the soft distinct sounds of a music box playing in the distance. And in the center of the room lies a glass display case that in it holds a... doll?

She sports blood red hair that is held up by two blue hair ties and a blue and white dress. Her eyes are closed.

You swallow hard and open the case....

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 2: You meet Mommy Long Legs and find yourself in quite the predicament; play her games or face death. What choice do you have, but to obey?

You venture out of the small room that you were just in alongside with a now missing doll and out into the adjacent hallway that leads you out and back into the rest of the facility.

“Man...” you say, eyeing the place from ceiling to floor tile, “...this place is larger than I thought...” you can’t help but mumble to yourself. Sure the building looked absolutely massive on the outside but, being inside of it now? Man, this place felt like it didn’t have an end to it.

“...This way...” you hear a voice whisper to you, breaking you from your silence, snapping back into reality you decide to follow it. Surely the owner of the voice could tell you what happened here?

Eventually you find yourself entering an office of what could only be the owner of the company, Eliot Ludwig, reads a piece of paper resting atop his desk. Allowing curiosity to take ahold of you, you decide to pick it up and read it and find that it contains information about an experiment... ‘814’.

Huh...

You don’t know what to make of the information but decide to pocket the paper nevertheless, It seems like it could be important.

Following outside of this area, you walk into a more mechanical looking room that seems to need power.

Suddenly the loud sound of one of vents latch coming lose frightens you, causing your attention to shift. Your body tensing up, awaiting for the horrors of this place to attack you.

But, you’re greeted by the same doll from before;

“Oh! Uh...” she seemingly stumbles over her words, a clear air of awkwardness hanging from her, “...I didn’t mean to scare you! I was just- trying to get the power back on!” She explains.

You watch her, astonished that the doll is talking and moving, could... you be seeing things? No, you doubt it, especially after your encounter with that massive blue toy- Huggy Wuggy, was it?

You silently stare at her, curious to see what’ll happen next;

“Here-!” She says, and awkwardly motions for you to do the honors.

With no other option available, you use the electric hands on your grabpack, you help solve the issue by re-routing the power supply from one pilon to the next and then onto the glowing red interface that sits just beside the red headed doll.

Upon your accomplishment, you watch as she applauds you, to which you can’t help but smile slightly and nod.

“I wanted to thank you for freeing me-“ she begins, “-I was stuck in there for so long! Thank you, I’ll have to pay you back!” She adds, to which you nod, seeing as it’s only fair.

“There’s a train station near by-“ she adds and you quirk up an eyebrow, a... train station?! In this place?! Jesus! Just how big really was this building that they needed to install a whole train system!

“-It needs a code! And I have it.”

Ah, well that makes things easier, it seems that all you’ll have to do is find it and move on to the next area.

“We’re going to get out of here...!” She explains and you nod, “As soon as you get on up here!” She exclaims, chuckling awkwardly.

Unable to find a way up to where the doll is, you decide to head back the way you came and are more than surprised when you hear her speak to you again;

“I’m over here!” She exclaims, your head turns to see her, she’s in the vents! “I can follow you from here!” You watch as she scampers off before shouting for you on the other side, “This way!”

You follow the sound of her voice, you judge that she has to be on the other side and so you walk into the hallway and into a small corner where two flashing red sensors display the red and blue grabpack hands. You place them on the sensor and watch as the system green lights your entry, allowing you further access to traverse yet another hallway.

Eventually you find yourself in a rather large room that is surrounded by five closed off gates, each one has a large title overhead indicating to which area it leads to. In the center if this room lies a massive crater whose end you cannot see as it is shrouded in darkness. The doll from earlier sits just in front of the mouth of the crater, as soon as she sees you she turns around;

“Listen, I’m going to need you to trust me-“ but before she can even finish whatever she was saying, a hand from down below reaches out and pulls her in screaming.

You’re left standing there, alone, and unsure of what to do next.

“...Fuck...” you curse, “What the hell do I do now...?” You bite your lower lip in irritation and look around, there’s no way for you to proceed aside from going down the same way that your temporary companion had been abducted.

You sigh and look down at the hole before bracing yourself, “Here goes nothing!” You shout as you descend.

Coming down you find yourself to have had- thankfully- safely landed in one of the lower sections of the facility. Next to you are three locked archways that indicate the following areas that you can go into, one of which seems to spark an innate interest within you, GAME STATION.

You deduce that the door needs power to operate and are quick to find the area that needs re-routing.

By the time you finish that task, you hear the metallic door open and you waltz on over to the connecting hallway.

Right as you use the red metallic grabpack hand on the sensor that rests above the door that impedes your journey, a voice echoes from somewhere above you;

“A new playmate!!” Squeals a feminine voice, and you watch as the hand is snatched from you, leaving you with only the blue one intact.

“It’s been... SO LONG...” the female voice explains and you watch as from above the dark ceiling a long and spindly pink figure descends. She looks no different from just another toy!

“Right, Poppy?” She asks the ‘doll’ that she holds on her hand.

“Poppy!” You can’t help but belt out in response, so that’s your companions name!

The figure ignores you and using Poppy like the doll she is, mocks her voice in response, “Very exciting, Mommy!”

“LET HER GO!” You shout, demanding the... thing, this creature called “Mommy” listen to you.

Alas, your cries fall upon deaf ears as the smile on Mommy’s face stretches farther than humanly possible. Stretching her neck, you watch as her face descends further down onto yours until she is no more than a few inches away from you.

You can’t help but cringe away in disgust, yet she isn’t deterred by your actions and only follows you closely.

“Mommy heard that miss Poppy was going to just give you the train code to escape! Now how is THAT fun?” She grins, “Instead- let’s say we make a game out of it! The game station is still working! It’ll be just like old times~” she explains.

“And-“ she uses Poppy mockingly, “-If you you win all three games, I’ll give you the train code!”

Mommy gasps a sound of mock delight, “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Poppy!”

Just before she slinks away, her head beginning to follow in the motions of the rest of her body, she says one final word to you, “Oh~! You’re going to have SO much fun~! Head to Musical Memory and Mommy will get things started!”

Before you have time to react, her head shoots down towards you at an alarming rate and she stops just in front of you;

“OBEY THE RULES OR ILL TARE YOU APART AND EAT YOUR INSIDES WHILE YOURE STILL ALIVE!”

A shiver runs down your back as finally the monstrous beast known as Mommy finally slinks away into the dark recesses of the facility.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 3: You play Mommy’s games...

Arriving at the Game Station you find yourself in a colorful large open space, with- as the name entails- a large variety of games to play. Remembering the information that you’ve gathered so far of the place from the stray files, notes and fliers littered about, you piece together that this had to have been one of the major areas that the orphans of Playtime Co. would spend a large amount of their time in.

Still though, none of it makes that much sense to you- why would they even have such a place erected inside of the facility?

“I mean-“ you cut yourself off, “-I guess it makes sense..? After all, how’re you going to keep possibly hundreds of orphans entertained?” You asked no one in particular.

“You can’t just keep them locked away in their rooms...” you muttered under your breath, your eyes wandered to and fro. There was so much to look at, from the decoration that littered around, to the cardboard cutouts of what is likely to be the toys and mascots of Playtime, but what catches your eye the most were the drawings left by the orphans.

You looked at the colorful drawings, all made with crayons and markers, it depicted the kids playing alongside three key figures that you’ve now seen and gotten to know thus far;

Kissy Missy, Huggy Wuggy and ‘Mommy’.

You get a sense of... happiness from them? It seems that the children had fun with them...

Fun... huh... that’s, arguably hard to imagine when you’ve had your life threatened by two out of three of these creatures.

Sighing, you hope that at least Kissy Missy won’t slaughter you the moment you meet her.

Shaking your head, you remember what you’re here for; the train code. “Best not to keep Mommy waiting...” you mumble to yourself.

Exploring the area some more, you eventually find the room where the hands for the grab packs are made!

“Oh! Sweet!” Excitement fills you as you realize that you can get a replacement for the one that you lost.

Fiddling here and there with the strange machinery, at long last you’re given your replacement green hand!

Sometime later, you finally make you way into Musical Memory, you’re greeted by a rather strange set up; the room is roughly circular in shape, with a large open space around you that is obviously inaccessible to you. But the center of this room has a circular platform that is surrounded on both sides by round buttons

roughly the size of beach balls.

Atop the circular platform is a cylindrical protrusion that extends far beyond from the ceiling and sits just above the center arena.

You can’t help but whistle in amazement at the sight;

“And to think that kids actually played in here? Geez, you’ve got to be kidding me-“ you mumbled, “- this place would’ve terrified me as a kid...” you add.

Upon stepping inside of the centerpiece, you watch as massive screens all around you suddenly burst to life, surprising you as a result.

The sounds of odd music begins to play and the logo of Playtime Co. appears on screen;

“WELCOME TO MUSICAL MEMORY!” Voices an automated mechanical male voice.

“THIS ADVANCED MEMORY AND RECOGNITION TEST IS DESIGNED TO STIMULATE SEVERAL SEGMENTS OF THE BRAIN! ALLOWING US TO SEE HOW QUICKLY AND EFFICIENTLY YOUR BRAIN WORKS! A SEQUENCE OF COLORS WILL BE SHOWN, AND YOU MUST RECREATE THE EXACT SEQUENCE USING THE BUTTONS AROUND YOU. BUNZO WILL SLOWLY LOWER TOWARDS YOU-“

“Bunzo?” You croak, “Who the hell’s Bu-?” A nagging sensation in the background of your mind urges you to look up, and as you do you are greeted by the sight of a yellow rabbit with bright green overalls, holding two large cymbals in each hand.

It’s eerie dead smile focused on you.

“Ah!” You say, looking away, “Right...!”

“-WHEN YOU COMPLETE A COLOR PATTERN CORRECTLY, BUNZO WILL SLOWLY RISE BACK UP! WHEN YOU IMPUT A PATTERN INCORRECTLY, BUNZO WILL LOWER TOWARDS YOU FASTER. IF BUNZO REACHES YOU, YOUR TEST IS OVER. YOUR TEST WILL BECOME MORE DIFFICULT AS IT CONTINUES WITH LONGER PATTERNS AND QUICKER SUCCESSIONS. THATS IS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

You swallow hard and sigh through your nose, shrugging your shoulders in a rolling motion you ready yourself for what’s to come.

However, before the game itself can start, suddenly the light die out, except for one, drawing your attention.

You are greeted by the sight of ‘Mommy’ who sits inside of what looks to be an observation room that sits way above the room, out of sight from those made unaware of its existence.

“Oh~! Isn’t it amazing~?! Mommy hasn’t seen the place up and running in YEARS!! Mommy can only imagine how excited Bunzo must be! It’s been such a long time since he’s been able to play, to cheer, to eat...”

At her last words, the rabbit above you seemingly ‘comes to life’ and clangs its cymbals together producing a rather loud sound. You snap you attention to glare at it, the creature seems unperturbed by your expression.

You hear Mommy sigh, “Ah well, that’s the dinner bell~! Good luck~!” And just like that the room floods back with light and the game begins...!

As you play the game, you suddenly watch as the machine begins to freak out, the mechanical male voice calling out an array of unintelligible colors. The buttons move around in an odd manner; twitching, spinning and even flipping!

You don’t know what to do, so you stand there dumbfounded for a moment until your eye catches sight of a hidden white button. Pressing it causes the machine to momentarily flutter, its mechanical parts visibly stuttering as they move in ways that they should not until it finally ceases all movements.

The lights shut off once again;

“Ah... it broke...”, you can hear the clear disappointment in Mommy’s voice, “...that’s no fun! For doing such a splendid job, Mommy has decided to give you PART- of the code for the train...!”

Above you, in the same place where Bunzo had previously been, comes Mommy’s hand, and in it a piece of paper. You take it with no hesitation.

“Mommy was hoping the game could last a little longer~! It’s okay though... Mommy knows OTHER ways to play with you~”

You bite your bottom lip out of nervousness and choose not to linger any longer, quickly making your leave, lest you overstay your welcome.

Arriving at the following game, you enter yet another odd location; it’s an open concept room with LOTS of space in the center for you to seemingly run or walk around as you please. Around you however is a wall that is painted in a rather whimsical manner, akin to that of Sunday morning cartoons, and inside of said

walls are an assortment of... tunnels? At least you think that they’re tunnels, since looking in them yields no more than expansive darkness.

The same sound as before of TV static catches you attention and you turn to face a lone TV screen;

“WELCOME TO WACK-A-WUGGY! THIS ADVANCED TEST IS DESIGNED TO ASSESS THE EXTENT OF YOUR REACTIONARY ABILITIES. A DUAL PALM GRABPACK WILL BE PROVIDED TO YOU FOR THIS TEST. AROUND YOU ARE 18 SIZABLE HOLES, AN ADORABLE HUGGY WUGGY TOY COULD APPEAR OUT OF ANY OF THESE HOLES! IF ONE COMES OUT, HIT IT WITH YOUR GRABPACK! THATS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

To say that you’re surprised when the lights don’t die out is an understatement, you almost reflectively call out to Mommy, half wondering if she’d left you.

“The toys in this game, used to have strings attached to them, so they could be pulled back when they got too close to the children...” she explains.

You watch her with a cocked brow, not understanding where she’s going with this, and it’s not until you finally note what she’s holding that it finally hits you.

“Have fun~”

As you finish the game, hitting the last Huggy Wuggy on the head, you hear Mommy chime in once more;

“Oh...” she sounds incredibly disappointed at the results, “...you did it...” there’s a beat of silence before she speaks again, “HORRAY!! Mommy is SO proud of you! Here, mommy has another hint for you-“

A vent in the room opens, Mommy’s hand sticks through it, and on her hand is yet another piece of paper.

You gingerly take it.

“Only one last game left to play...” Mommy reminisces, “Hmm... sad! Mommy was hoping you’d stay here forever! Though~ it’s never TOO LATE to change your mind~” she chuckles eerily.

You can’t help but cringe away in disgust as you quickly make your way out.

As you leave the area, you find yourself in what looks to be long winding hallways that are powered by what looks to be some sort of... train tracks? You wonder if maybe the train passed through here or perhaps- some other sort of mode of transportation.

Given with how long this portion of the facility is, you’d wager that some sort of transportation did in fact pass through here.

As you make your away about you eventually come across a door that is also locked and conveniently, behind it is the lever needed to unlock it.

Sighing and thinking that you’ve struck a dead end, you make your leave, but just as you do so, you’re stopped by the sounds of a door in the distance of the locked metal frame open up. As it rises you feel dread settle deep inside of you, the sight of what greets you causing you to freeze in place.

A toy, much the same size and design as the blue one from faaar earlier in your journey appears before you and it’s making its way TO you.

Kissy Missy.

You watch as she calmly approaches, she stands there for a moment and eyes you curiously, then eyes the lever next to her, then back at you and back at the lever once more.

As if a lightbulb lit up atop your head you nod at her, “Y-Yes-!” Your voice finally finds its courage, “-I-I need to open that! Pl-Please! Please Kissy Missy!” You plead.

Though she doesn’t reply to you, you watch as she fumbles with the lever, her soft plush and somewhat weightless hands struggling to pull it down, until eventually succeeding.

As the gate slowly rises in-front of you, you watch as Kissy Missy gives you one last lingering look before turning around, as she does so, she stops again and seems to give you another once-over.

Seemingly satisfied, she makes her leave, the door at the far end of the hallway shutting behind her.

You enter what seems to be the final game area, the room appears to be dimly lit, with just enough light to see what’s around you. This room is quite unlike all the others, it seems more colorful and as you try to jump over the block-styled plush blocks, you can roughly make out other designs of the area. It seems that this one has more activities than the one before it...

The all too familiar TV static sound behind you catches you attention and you turn to face the only TV present;

“WELCOME TO ‘STATUES’! THIS ADVANCED OBSTACLE COURSE IS DESIGNED TO TEST YOUR PHYSICAL ENDURANCE AND STRENGTH! THE RULES ARE SIMPLE: THE LIGHTS WILL TURN OFF, YOU CAN MOVE THROUGH THE OBSTACLE COURSE DURING THIS TIME. HOWEVER, WHEN THE LIGHT TURNS ON; YOU CAN LOOK AROUND BUT CANNOT MOVE. YOU MAY MOVE AGAIN, ONCE THE LIGHTS TURN BACK OFF. THE LOVABLE PJ PUGGAPILLAR WILL FOLLOW YOU, IF HE REACHES YOU, YOUR TEST IS OVER. THAT IS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

That’s when you notice the face of the odd looking dog just beside the TV screen! Compared to the other toys, his presence is not all that unnerving- well, only partly- and is more... endearing, to a fault.

“Right, okay-“ you nod, “Sounds easy enough...”

You take notice of Mommy in the distance;

“It was always SO sad to see the kids go, they called me ‘Mommy’ because I was the closest thing they ever had to one... They came for the games and then never came back...! They LEFT Mommy to DIE alone! Mommy didn’t deserve THAT~... But you...” she pauses briefly, “...you’re here, so if anyone deserves to DIE ALONE... it’s YOU.”

And just as she finishes speaking, the music begins and PJ Puggapilar makes his way towards you, slowly and lumber some, you waste no time playing the game as you’re told to.

Playing this game was the hardest one by far, but you somehow managed it anyways! As you escaped up into the same room where Mommy was mere moments ago, you find a hole in that little room and descend into it. As you walk out, the sounds of walking are heard above you;

“Where did you go?!”

It’s Mommy

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-!!” You hiss at yourself, you HAVE to get going.

“The game is over~! Come back and Mommy will give you the code! Pinkie Promise!” Mommy exclaims, but her words fall in deaf ears, you know BETTER than to trust these toys.

“Playing those games must’ve been hard! But Mommy decided you won~!” An eerie laugh fills the halls as you make your escape.

“Come baaack~!”

“Mommy doesn’t like cheaters!! The rules were so simple!”

“COME BACK HERE!”

“HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME!! IM GOUNG TO FIND YOU-! IM GOING TO FIND YOU-!! AND WHEN I DO-“ she cuts herself off only to laugh maniacally.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Eventually as you meander and maneuver the expansive facility you come at a dead end, there’s a closed fence door that you cannot open and you don’t know where to go. Mommy’s hot on your heels and the only where else to go is back the way you came...

“Fuck no...” you shake your head, “I’ll die if I do-“

As if answering to some unholy prayer, Mommy decends from where you’d come from, screaming as she does so. She lands right in front of you with a look of bewildered rage;

“I ASKED YOU TO PLAY FAIR!! AND YOU CHEATED!! I HATE CHEATERS!!” She shouts at you, “Now~ we’re going to play ONE LAST GAME, it’s called... HIDE...AND S E E K!!”

Suddenly!! As if by done divine or unholy magic the one locked gate opens and just as it does, Mommy begins to count down from 10.

RUN RABBIT, RUN!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 4: You escape, or do you?

With your heart pounding inside your chest like never before, you scamper through the facilities seemingly never ending passage ways. The pitter-patter of your feet being echoed and overshadowed by the massive ones just down the hall.

Mommy’s coming to get you and you’d better NOT stop running.

You hear the facility’s weaker points crumble around you under the pressure of your much larger pursuer, causing a cave in behind you at just the right moment. Giving you much opportune time to swing above the maw of yet another bottom less cavern beneath your feet.

As you escape, you enter the same familiar hallway from before, this was the same place where you had

lost one of the grabpack’s hands!

Freedom was just within your fingertips!!

You rush down the hall and place the blue hand against the scanner and watch as slowly the machine ID’s you in.

When a chime rings, indicating a roaring success you rush into the room and barely notice the machinery next to you, your eyes are only fixated on a lever that’s next to it.

On impulse you grab for the lever and pull it down JUST in time for Mommy to rush into the room, her hand lodging itself inside of the machine’s mechanical teeth.

She tries desperately to free herself as she eyes you with wild animalistic eyes, there’s a hunger to them unlike any living creature you’ve ever seen, rivaling that of a starved tiger.

Fearing for your safety, you throw yourself backwards just as she tries to reach for you with her other hand.

Just then, the machine roars to life and begins to grind Mommy’s hand down to a pulp, she screams in agony as she tries hopelessly to free herself from the clutches of death.

“WHAT’VE YOU DONE?!” She screams, “HE’LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM!!”

You watch as Mommy’s arm is taken by the machine, followed by her leg as she tries to wriggle away in vain from its grasps.

“YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME!!”

It’s not until Mommy’s torso gets crushed by the machine that she finally gives one final wail of despair that she dies.

Silence befalls the room as you stare in silent shock, your hands are shaking, your heart and head are pounding.

You’ve just managed to escape death, TWICE now.

What remains of Mommy’s body falls limply to the ground, a lifeless smile still decorating her features.

As you stand there, you watch as slowly, from underneath a blocked off door, a long spindly arm reaches out with elongated mechanical fingers.

The creature behind the limb says nothing to you, only reaching forth for Mommy’s remnants and dragging it away into the abyss.

When it finally leaves, do you find yourself sliding down the wall that your back was pressed up against.

You let out a whimper as a cry finally croaks out from your throat.

You cry pathetically, perhaps out of stress, and you allow yourself this grace.

Eventually, when you find your courage to continue, you wipe away your tears and stand back up on shaky legs and make your way back to where your original goal was; the location of the train.

And it doesn’t take long for you to reach it, when you finally find it, you discover that Poppy and the final piece of the code alongside her.

You feel her from the... web she seemed to have been entangled in, no doubt the works of Mommy.

“Let’s go...” is all Poppy offers you, and you can’t help but agree, you want to leave this hell hole and NEVER come back.

As you board the train, you input the code and watch as the buttons light up green.

You can’t help but sigh in relief as you feel that you’re one step closer to finding your freedom.

“I was so scared she’d put me back in that case...” you heard Poppy speaking to you from the train’s overhead announcer.

Wait.... Why hadn’t she gone inside with you?

“What the hell? Poppy?” You called out, but you knew you wouldn’t get a response back.

“But you saved me! You’re PERFECT! You’re too perfect to loose! I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave-“

You watch as the train is re-routed in front of you, the escape passes you by and the vehicle turns to the right, sending you deeper within the bowls of the facility.

“I’ve never met anyone like you!” She chuckles, “Do you know how LONG I’ve been stuck in that case?! Well~ too long~! I had so much time to think and reflect- to figure out what I’d do when I was freed...” there’s a pause as she speaks, “We have to set things right, terrible things have happened, but I know that whatever I need you to do, you’re capable. We will- what’re-?!”

You watch with great alarm as the train picks up speed, far too much speed for what you think is appropriate.

“Shit! We’re going to crash!!” You exclaim, and you grab onto the red lever with your grabpack hands, pulling it down with all your might.

But it’s hopeless as the train derails, crashing down against the confines of the tunnel, debris and broken rubble surround you and as your consciousness fades, you can just barely make out the words of your new location;

PLAYCARE.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 5: You arrive at PLAYCARE and as fate would have it, a new horror awaits to make its acquaintance with you.

As consciousness slowly returns to you, you find that your body aches all over, a stinging sensation fills you throughout. When you finally do crack your eyes open, you find that your vision is unsteady, your head lolling from side to side.

That’s when you finally realize that you’re being carried... by... something?

Large purple paws adorned with equally sharp claws come into view on a casino as your would-be rescuer walks.

But before you’re given the opportunity to thank them, you’re thrown down a hatch by the same thing that ‘rescued’ you.

The last thing you see is an impossibly large smile and two white beady eyes staring back.

A pathetic yelp leaves your lips, as a malicious laugh echoes throughout the pipe.

You free fall for a short while before falling limply on metal flooring, a red flood lamp circles around

you in this new area along with an alarm that blares loudly indicating something is about to happen.

You rise to your feet and hold your side, you cringe in pain as you stand stupidly eyeing where in god’s

green earth you’ve landed now.

It’s not until the walls begin to close in that it finally dawns on you where you are; a trash compactor!! You must get out.

You scramble towards a pile of precariously placed trash and scamper through a small opening behind

the walls of the compactor.

You find that you’re free- for now- and must find a way out of where you are and go... somewhere that

isn’t here.

It’s too dangerous to stay where you are, and thus begins yet another long and arduous journey.

As you meander about, traveling to and fro inside of the guts of the facility, you find yourself using the

pistons that likely control the trash compactor as leverage to reach newer areas that would otherwise remain out of bounds for you.

You traverse a broken down metal catwalk and use the pistons near it as means for transportation, timing your jumps just right to get over to the other side.

Doing so, you catch glimpse of the same purple figure from before, although this time you now have a slightly better look at their lower half before it slinks away.

A long emaciated body with large paws to boot and a lengthy purple tail to match. A cat.

You shudder as you come to the realization that a game of cat and mouse has most likely begun, and you- my friend- are being stalked from within the shadows.

As you continue on, you eventually find yourself crawling through a ventilation shaft until eventually entering in the same room as just a few moments before. To your far and immediate right is the same hatch you were thrown into, and to your immediate left is an office door locked behind yet another grabpack scanner.

Scanning in the hands, you walk into the new area, the sounds of ringing fills the still air.

It’s a phone...! A phone is ringing!

But, who could be calling? Your pursuer? Or... someone else?

To say that you want to ignore the phone and pursue on is an understatement but, something inside you

wills you to comply otherwise and so you do, rushing off in the direction of the noise.

You find yourself inside of a small office, the distinct ringing of a phone ring much louder now, you’re

close to the source. It doesn’t take long for you to search around the room and find it, you take it with shakey hands and answer it.

“H...Hello?” Your weary voice calls out.

“Hey... Hey! Can you hear me?” A childish voice responds.

A child?

“O-Oh! Um! Y-Yes! Yes! I can!”

“You look kinda lost!” They reply

You pause, dumbfounded, “Wh-...what did you just say?”

“I can see you through the camera’s dummy!”

Cameras? When did-?

As you turn around, you spot one and sigh, oh... right. What better way to make sure that you’re

employees are working than to monitor their every move?

You smile and wave hello at the camera and listen as the voice on the other end laughs in response. “I’m Ollie by the way! What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N...” you correct

“Oh! Well it’s nice to meet you Y/N! Look-“ they pause momentarily, “I don’t want you to die, so I’m

going to help you! Check this out! Look at the tube thing in the back wall!”

You follow Ollie’s words and turn to face the back of the room, spotting a large oddly shaped metallic

tube that slides open following some noise. And out from within it pops a large battery!

“You can use that battery to open the door!”

You grab it and place it inside of a battery socked that’s embedded within the wall. The door beside you

opens as a result. “Thank you Ollie”

“Don’t mention it!”

As you go to leave, you’re greeted by the sight of the now broken train, your eyes go wide as you stare at the carnage left behind from the crash.

“Woah!! Did you do that?!” Ollie asks

You nod, “Yeah...” there’s a distinct sadness within your voice, just when you thought you were free you were once again seemingly betrayed by the only toy you thought you could trust.

“I know you’re probably mad at Poppy for not letting you escape, but she needs you! WE need you! You are our mission! Together we can save a lot of people, including YOU!”

You walk along the path, quietly listening to Ollie speak to you from the phone as you traverse the confines of the facility.

“PLAYCARE is straight ahead, it’s the home of CatNap! One of the ‘Smiling Critters’... there used to be...” a pause, “eight of them? I think? Now it’s just him...”

“PLAYCARE is his church- his hunting ground. Whatever he wants it to be! You’d better get moving

quickly. We’ll keep in touch!”

The line goes dead and you’re plunged into silence, an eerie ness settles inside of you as you realize just

how dead and desolate this whole place is. What with the only last remnants of life being the few murderous toys and... seemingly a, child?

You don’t know what’s to make of it, nothing makes sense to you, and the more you explore the place, the more you come across fragmented pieces of information you begin to wonder just what the hell did your parents get themselves into when they came to work at such an establishment.

“Did they even know about the toys?” You ask the empty air, eyeing a poster of ‘Mommy’ who you now knew as Mommy Long Legs advertising a sweet cold drink for children.

You shake your head, you have to find PLAYCARE, it’s likely where your next goal awaits you.

You traverse the rather small area in-front of you fairly easily, having spotted what looked like a tram up ahead you deduced that it needed power and sought out to find a power source. Once founded, its power was re-routed and a chime rang throughout some speakers in the walls, the small child sized gates opened up, allowing you further passage up ahead.

You climbed the short staircase and opened the door to the tram, stepping inside you found a small seating area.

Sighing heavily, you thought that some much needed rest would do your sore body some good.

And just as the doors shut behind you, the lone TV screen inside of the tram came to life;

“Hello! My name is Elliot Ludwig, when you look around at the world today, what’s one thing it needs

more of? I asked around once; ‘Money! I can never have enough!’, ‘Understanding, I can never get any!’, the common man has lost it, each answer was different and I could perhaps see some little truth in each. But I think each was missing something, something simple! You see, not one of them could muster a smile! A smile, is hope! A smile, is love! A smile is understanding! And there is nothing more gratifying to my soul than being the reason for a child’s smile! To be the spark that ignites their hopes and dreams! For it is only through hopes and dreams that we may create a better world! One where our children need not be afraid! One where they are protected! After all, this company and its toys are nothing without them. These children deserve to smile, they deserve to love! And they deserve a safe home...-“

As you listen to the founder’s speech, you can’t help but gawk in awe at what the hell you’re looking at;

A gargantuan dome suspended on equally large metallic cables that hold it seemingly afloat in the middle of an enormous cavern, situated DEEP within the bowels of the facility.

“...that is why, it is with enormous pleasure that as the founder of Playtime Co., I announce P L A Y C A R E !! Our very own on site orphanage, but it’s not only that!! It’s a school! A playhouse! A place to belong! Our very own ecosystem beneath the surface! Dedicated in every inch and detail to ensuring a child’s smile! It’s teachers and counselors, mother and fathers until such a time they have all of that in youth! May PLAYCARE bring; joy! Inspiration! And smiles to all who enter these doors! For what gives live its meaning if not a SMILE! ”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 6: The game of cat and mouse truly begins.

As you step out of the tram, your phone rings once more;

“Cool place, huh? Kids used to live here... now look at it...”

You look around and notice just how lifeless the place looks despite being one of the nicer looking areas

in the whole of Playtime Co.

“Anyways, do you see that statue in the middle of the room? Take the stairs that go under it! There’s a really cool room that can power all of PLAYCARE! I can give you a key when you get down there!”

Sparing no time to enjoy the sights around you, you make your way towards the large statue in the middle and find the door that sits at its base, opening it reveals a short staircase that leads downwards.

When you descend the stairs you find yourself in a medium sized room filled with electronic machines, a small desk and a few other nicknacks thrown about. However, the biggest point of interest is a funny looking colorful machine that- to the side of it- displays all of the areas within PLAYCARE that have power.

To the side of this machine you note that there’s a cylindrical vessel much like the one you saw in that first office room when you first encountered Ollie, although this time it was far smaller.

A small sound emits and before you know it, a key has appeared inside of it. It’s miniscule latch opens itself up automatically.

You reach in and fetch the key, only for your phone to ring in response, you take the call;

“Great!! You have the key! Now the question you’re probably asking yourself is, ‘where does it go?’ Well, head back out and you should find a door just to the left of the cable car you took down here.”

You had noticed that door earlier upon your arrival, you jog on over to said destination and use the key to open the door. You’re greeted with a rather dark and somber looking area, perhaps that’s due to the poor lighting and metal framework of the facility coming into view once more as opposed to the faux sky and grass from earlier.

As you turn the corner you’re greeted by a massive room and in its center is a large machine with three cylindrical barrels, the one on the far right is currently filled with a gaseous red cloud. The display on the center console for the machine reads;

‘NO POWER - GENERATOR STATUS: {OFFLINE}’

“Welcome to the Gas Production Zone, the beating heart of the whole evil PLAYCARE system! All that has you see coming from the machine is made right here in the factory. It’s called ‘The Red Smoke’. Right now, it’s all headed off to the right. We need to make that Red Smoke go to the left instead. That’s how we can get to him- to CatNap. The machine will probably have a few dumb safeguards for you to work around, but I think you can do it! I’ll call you once it’s done!”

You fiddle about with the machine, trying to see if there’s anything you can do from this end to power it. You’re no engineer, but you wager you can get it going!

After a while, you find a way into the area next door, powering on the locked door with the help of a battery and its wall socket.

This new area is just as massive as the one with the machine, though this time it has an odd looking protrusion in its center. You’re unsure of what it could possibly be, so you decide to ignore it for now and focus on following the wires from the ceiling. They’ll lead you to another power source that needs re-routing.

And it doesn’t take long to spot it and fix the issue, you hear the distant sounds of machinery whirring to life and go back the way you came. When you arrive back at the same room with the gargantuan machine, you press a few buttons to get the process going of re-routing the gas’ location from one onto another when the power abruptly cuts off.

Your phone rings once more and you answer it;

“Oh no! Someone killed the power! Okay, I’ve sent you another key. It’s under the statue, use it to get into ‘Home Sweet Home’. Then once you’re inside, find the building’s back up generator. Good luck!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Of course nothing’s going to be easy, not with that goddamn cat hiding around...” you groan in frustration. You pinch at the bridge of your nose and pursue onwards.

“Fine, a vendetta it is.” You state, fists clenched in annoyance.

With key in hand, you open the doors of Home Sweet Home and walk forth into by far one of the most beautiful and equally terrifying places you’ll ever be in.

Matching green wallpaper and curtains depict both Huggy Wuggy and Poppy in such a way that you wouldn’t have even noticed at first place.

The whole style of the area is reminiscent of vintage mixed with Victorian home decor. You feel like you’ve stepped into a time capsule.

You open the only door leading you further down and it’s ‘blocked off’ by a thick wall of red mist. The same one you saw earlier in the vat of that machine.

“That... can’t be good...” you mutter

You’re hesitant to proceed but there’s no other way forward, so you have no choice but to proceed. Attempting to hold your breath and using your shirt to hopefully mask your nose and mouth you descend

down a large and winding staircase case that seems to go on for a while. Your attempts at holding your breath fail as you hack and cough for air, breathing in lungfuls of the red mist alongside it.

When you finally reach the end, you’re met with an impossibly long hallway. You stand quietly for a moment to stare in awe;

“I’m starting to think that the gas had a negative effect on me...” you speak, keeping your voice low, “... that or they hired the worst contractor in this state...” you can’t help but chuckle at your own joke.

You explore the odd layout of ‘Home Sweet Home’ and find yourself in a never ending loop of hallways, each one just as identical to the last.

Suddenly, the crackle of radio static come on and you hear the radio begin to speak;

“{TRAGIC NEWS THIS MORNING. AS OF 9:45AM, LOCAL AUTHORIES CONFIRM THAT THE BODY OF A YOUNG BOY HAS BEEN FOUND ON THE ESTATE OF THE LATE ELLIOT LUDWIG, AN ESTEEMED TOY MAKER AND ORIGINATOR OF THE PLAYTIME COMPANY. AT THIS TIME, AN IDENTITY FOR THE CHILD AWAITS OFFICIAL CONFIRMATION. FOUND UPSTAIRS IN A LARGE DUFFLE BAG, OFFICERS ON-SCENE REPORT THAT THE REMAINS APPEARED TO HAVE BEEN DISTURBED. ORGANS AS WELL AS KEY BINES FROM THE SKELETAL STRUCTURE WERE REPORTED MISSING FROM THE BODY. IT IS UNKNOWN AT THIS TIME WHETHER THIS EXTRACTION WAS, IN FACT, THE CAUSE OF DEATH}”

The radio announcement fades into static and you feel a spine tingling chill rush down your back.

“I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things-“ you try to assure yourself, you hold your head with one hand and bolt down a random direction down one of the winding halls.

“-all those notes I collected are getting to me, n-nothing’s happening here, I’m just imagining things-“ you slap your cheeks, trying to get yourself to think.

“-Y-Yeah! That’s right! It’s just auditory hallucinations due to that red mist, that HAS to be it!”

As you round yet another hallway, another radio speaks;

“{FOLLOWING RECENT EVENTS, PLAYTIME CO. WAS ASKED FOR ANY COMMENT REGARDING THE DISCOVERY. THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY, QUOTE: ‘ITS SICKENING. ELLIOT LUDWIG WAS A GREAT MAN, AND THOSE WHO KNEW HIM UNDERSTOOD THAT HE

WAS NOT CAPABLE OF VIOLENCE, LET ALONE WHAT OTHERS NOW CLAIM. HE HAD A DEEP LOVE IN HIS HEART FOR CHILDREN LIKE THIS ONE, MAKING THE ACTIONS IF WHOEVER PLANTED THIS BODY ALL THE MORE SICKENING. WE LOOK FORWARD TO CLEANING HIS GOOD NAME, BOTH IN THE PUBLIC EYE AND IN THE EYES OF THE LAW.’ STAY TUNED FOR MORE.}”

The voice at the end of the broadcast sent a vile chill down your spine that only urged you to run away in fear.

As you continued to run, the sound of a distant phone caught your ear, and so, you decided to cautiously follow its source.

When you reach it, as you go to pick it up, on the other end you’re met with... Ollie? “YOU NEED TO RUN!!” He urges you.

You feel yourself freeze in place as a sense of dread washes over you, slowly you turn to face what could possibly be behind you, only to be met with the face of CatNap, poking his head out from the corner of the door frame leading into the room.

As soon as you see him, you watch him slink away and a frightened yelp leaves your lips, your hands fly to your mouth in an attempt at further silencing you.

Cautiously you step into the same spot where you saw CatNap but thankfully are met with nothing. You trudge onwards, now on high alert for the feline’s whereabouts...

As you descend down further into the never ending hallway you feel yourself seep further into madness. As you hear the wails of children crying in your ears, the sound only progressively getting louder as you approach a room lit by a dim red light.

And all at once, the wails silence themselves, as though they were never there.

You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you finally step foot inside of the area. You’re terrified and you don’t know what to do anymore...

You eye the large VCR TV and it’s VHS player, just next to it is a red VHS. Confused you decide to grab it and slide it in, standing in front of the TV and watching whatever it is that appears next;

You’re greeted by the sight of no less than Huggy Wuggy who stares at you with enlarged pupils, an eerie dead smile decorating his features.

The sight makes you gasp softly and recoil in shock.

A recorded male voice chimes in;

“Greetings, Employees, and welcome to your first day here in Playtime! We’re certain that in the days to

come you’ll find your new family here every but as loving and supportive as your own. Feel free to wander the halls! Sit in the mess for lunch! Or watch our children play and learn to their little heart’s content. Join the Innovationists, where the bounds of science are continuously pushed. Or join the Counselors of Playcare, whose diligence and care for our children will help shape a brighter future, just you see. Now, every one of you has your part in that future, so should you come back tomorrow feeling unhappy for where you are... worry not! For your supervisor is here and happy to listen! And...”

Just as the man gives a brief pause to what he’s saying, you watch as the image of Huggy changes to one of pure unadulterated horror. Huggy’s mouth has stretched to an unfathomable degree, sharp rows of teeth make their appearance, and his eyes are now black empty voids.

You feel sick to your stomach at the sight, your insides threaten to spill as you continue to watch in terror.

“...Should you come back... may you descend into the dark and the dust, finding all that awaits you are

incomprehensible horrors... each hungry for you, each eager that they might find you. Perhaps they’d smile at you from a shadow, their smiling mouths full of teeth and meat and plastic, watching and waiting for their turn...”

Just as those final words are uttered you watch as the image of Huggy Wuggy gets closer and closer to the screen until finally and seemingly out of nowhere, coming OUT of the screen, a giant yellow hand reaches out for you and before you’re able to yelp out pathetically, you’re engulfed in the maw of the beast.

The world fades to black as you feel your body finally give up on you...

The sounds of soft thuds encroaching on your unconscious form close in.

A curious paw nudges you, seeing no sign of resistance nor movement, a low chuckle is heard.

“A HERETIC CAN BE TOLERATED. BUT HERESY CANNOT.” They whisper in your ear.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 7: Remember kids! You can spell “School” without ‘cool’!

By the time you wake up, you find yourself in a completely different room and area than before. You’re no longer in the same maze of hallways as before, this time it looks like you’re deeper inside of Home Sweet Home. And though you KNOW you have no recollection of getting here, you know just who placed you here;

“CatNap”

You can’t help but cringe when you hear yourself say that name, that... creature, that THING, it’s toying with you. Trying to break you down until you’re nothing so it can devour you just like the others.

You know better than to let that beast win and let it get the best of you. You HAVE to keep going, and you WILL.

As you walk through the rest of Home Sweet Home, you solve an endless array of puzzles here and there and with the help of the newly acquired gas mask you can ensure yourself of further harm from the red mist.

All these puzzles serve only to help further you in your journey, granting you access to previously locked and blocked off areas. The grabpack continues to serve its purpose in aiding you to reach objects that are too far out of your grasp.

As you traverse the rooms, exploring the once abandoned bedrooms of the children you open a door that takes you to one of the hallways.

You watch in fear as CatNap himself walks right beside you, the only thing separating the two of you is some haphazardly placed furniture that blocks the path.

You swallow the scream that builds in your throat and quickly rush back into the room you were just in. In the distance you hear a mocking laugh alongside fading footsteps.

“Motherfucker...” you curse under your breath.

Continuing alongside the puzzles for a while longer, you ultimately find yourself at a dead end. As you go to turn around from the hallway, something tells you to look into the barricaded room behind you.

And so you do, cautiously peering in only to see none other than Kissy Missy! She’s sitting atop a bed, quiet as can be with what appears to be a picture frame in hand. Her eyes are glued to it... perhaps she’s... reminiscing memories of a friend? A past life full of peace?

It’s a sad sight and you say nothing, quietly turning around you bid farewell, it seems it’s be better to give them space.

You continue in Home Sweet Home, solving the last remaining puzzles until the main gate finally opens, granting you the ability to leave.

You sigh happily and as you open the door, stepping outside and away from that nightmare a large ‘hand’ grabs you from behind. You let out a frightened scream as you’re thrown down to the ground, you’re met face to face with Kissy Missy who eyes you with silent rage.

A low growl begins to emanate from her mouth and you brace yourself for death. “NO, NO! LET GO!”

Poppy! It’s Poppy! She’s alive!

“THEY DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG!!”

You turn your head over to look at her with a bewildered look, “Poppy! You’re... alive. Where... where have you been?”

Poppy shakes her head, “It’s... it’s a long story” is all she offers you, “We’re actually here to help-“ she says, gesturing towards Kissy Missy.

You watch as Kissy Missy finally lets you go and you sit up, “This place makes her tense...” Poppy comments, “I’m glad that Ollie could help you get this far. He’s the reason we found you at all! And it looks like the train crash hurt us both...”

You nod, finally standing to your feet.

“You’ve been through so much... you deserve an explanation. Come on.”

You follow the duo to a control panel nearby that Kissy Missy helps Poppy pry open and flip a red switch. Which in turn, turns on a nearby lift.

You three get on the lift.

“Look, I’m not your enemy but I can’t just let you leave. What’s happening down here is bigger than all of us. And I NEED you... so we can get REVENGE on those monsters whose tortured you... who’ve tortured US. They didn’t act alone, they’re disciples of the original, ‘The Prototype’.”

Suddenly you’re reminded of various pieces of information and hidden tapes you saw mentioning the thing, you shudder at the thought.

When you reach the top, the little elevator gives pause, Poppy motions for you to press a button nearby and you do, hopping back on, the elevator descends.

“The Prototype knows were coming by now, you try to escape, he’ll kill you before you ever reach that front door. He’s the reason I was trapped in that...” Poppy stops speaking for a moment, you watch as she visibly shudders.

It seems that you’re not the only one traumatized here.

“... god awful case for so long! You have... no idea the things he’s done! Let me help you kill him. Let

me help you save everyone. We’ve ALL seen how capable you are. You killed Huggy, you killed Mommy, you saved me. You are PERFECT for this. CatNap is coming, he’s a final obstacle that The Prototype has placed against us. We can’t stay here. Keep yourself safe... Ollie will call you.”

As you step off the elevator and watch it ascend one last time, you nod at Poppy and watch as she smiles back.

“Be safe...!” You call out. Poppy chuckles, “You too!”

And just as Poppy told you, your phone rings, with Ollie on the other end;

“Hey, hey! It's me! It seems like Poppy explained everything now. And she turned on the dome’s back up power! Now the plan from here is pretty simple- we need to restore power to the gas production zone. First, go back to the home Sweet Home building you were just in. You should be able to find a big power cord somewhere around the porch. Grab it and plug it in underneath the statue.”

You do as you're told and descend the statue’s staircase to connect the power to the machine below.

“Awesome! Look at that! Remember that generator you turned on inside of Home Sweet Home? Well, that was the backup generator for just that building. And every building should have one. Now you’ve just taken home. Sweet home backup power and routed it here. We’re already halfway done! Hmmmm, but where to go next... everywhere is pretty dangerous around here. That Playhouse especially! So... your best bet is probably the school. CatNap usually leaves that area alone. I’ll send you the key now!”

With the key in hand, you make your way over to the building labeled “School”. Upon walking in you take note of the dank and rank odor filling the air, which makes you wretch.

“Okay! Let’s make this quick! Turn on the generator, leave, and plug the school’s power cord into the center. Be careful in there, I don’t think I can connect to you on that side of the dome. And you won’t be alone. There’s someone else in there too. They’re not your-“

The rest of Ollie’s warning fades into static, it seems that the connection has been lost. Now, you truly are alone.

What new horrors await you in this hell?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 8: Red light, Green light.

You hear static come from the speakers located inside of the room you’re currently in and turn to face them;

“This is Miss Delight speaking. Please excuse the interruption! Students- remain in your seats until the bell has rung. And no going in the halls without a hall pass!!

You speculate that what you just heard is most likely nothing more than an automated system that must’ve broken down some time above and has likely been playing the same message.

When the static cuts off, you give a soft sigh and continue meandering about the school, going from classroom to classroom, exploring the abandoned areas.

A part of you hopes that you’ll find something of value hidden within but so far, you’ve come up empty handed. Save for one class rol. That catches your attention, it seems that one corner was seemingly sectioned off with the use of furniture.

“...Odd...” you comment, “who the hell would possibly want to camp out here...?”

Approaching the area you notice a bed covered in dried blood and viscera, and all around you are broken and bloodied toys, all very clearly deceased, it’s quite a sight for sore eyes.

You honestly don’t want to keep looking at it for any longer as you feel more nauseous the longer you do.

Moving on, you hope that you’ll find something else to look at.

You unlock an electric door using the green grabpack hand and continue in the new unlocked direction.

Exploring the rooms a bit, you discover that one of them contains a power source, it currently requires two batteries- one of which is out of reach.

With some minor searching you find one battery which you plug in and leaves you to search in the opposite side of the School.

Crawling under the debris of a blocked off area you witness the sight of something- toy? Human? You can’t quite tell- passing by just down the hallway.

You clasp a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle a gasp from escaping.

You stay still for a moment, waiting to see if you hear any more movement but when none greet your ears, you decide that it must be safe to continue.

As you open the next door, the same PA system comes back on with feedback static;

“Wait...” it’s that voice again, “I don’t recognize you...”

You swallow and stop in your tracks, your eyes are fixated on the camera hidden just barely out of sight

in the corner of the room.

“You don’t work here. How are you-... alive?” She asks

And honestly? You don’t have the slightest clue.

“Dumb luck, probably...” you mumble, eyeing the room, it looks to be no different from a computer lab

that you’d see back in highschool.

“Hm? Barb? Oh... Barb says you’re probably just trespassing...! CatNap wouldn’t like that you’re

here... you should consider leaving... for your own safety.”

The PA cuts off into static and you nod, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s exactly what I’ve been TRYING to

do...!” You complain to no one but yourself.

As you look around the room, you take note of a ventilation shaft, it seems that this one connects to that previous room where the battery had been lodged. You use the grabpack to hold onto a bar that’s’ situated above you with one hand as leverage to go down.

As soon as you get down, you use the other hand of the grabpack to hold onto the battery and make your way back up and through the vent system. Only to end up on the other side, in the same room where the power system was in and place the final batter.

Doing so, allows you to electrically charge the green grabpack hand and make your way into the next area.

In one of the new rooms you entered, there appears to be a note left on the floor, you take it and read it;

{“Just a few weeks ago now was THE HOUR OF JOY. today, there’s only silence in the school. I don’t think any of us here know what to do with it. The hallways without the children carry even the smallest sounds as if they were shouts. The other teachers and I started each other constantly we have to get used to it. Something locked the front door this morning and we haven’t been able to open it.”

You hum softly to yourself as you finish reading the note;

“Seems like something big went down- ‘The Hour of Joy’- whatever that means, I’ve been seeing it everywhere...” you squint and re-read the last part over again.

“CatNap?” You snort, rolling your eyes, “Who else? Knowing him and how much he likes to play with his food, I don’t doubt it.”

As you go to pocket the note, you notice another one nearby that you likely missed when first walking in.

{“The put in me howls for FOOD. I CAN’’T THINK About anything other than how HUNGRY I AM. HARDLY HAVE THE STRENGTH TO PICK MYSELF OFF THE FLOOR. Barb speaks to me though. SHE GIVES ME STRENGTH. i’ve found that if I stand still, COMPLETELY STILL, Everyone thinks I’m DEAD. BARB Says I need to EAT, AND THAT THE OTHER TEACHERS would never see me coming. ANYTHING TO STOP THE HOWLING.”}

The bloody note gives you reason for concern and you can’t help but stop and look up, turning around slowly to see if anyone’s watching you.

You shouldn’t be here.

You should leave.

You pocket the note and move on.

You walk into another room and traverse another ventilation shaft as the area ahead of you is blocked off.

As you move through the small cramped space, you notice- through a hole below you- that THING walking by again and catch a glimpse of red and white polka dot dress and blonde hair.

You drop down into the following room, past that thing you just saw.

The PA turns on once again;

“You’re not a good listener, are you? You’re a lot like the other humans in that way. I wonder your

screams will sound like theirs too...!” There’s a chuckle, “Mmmmm... I look forward to finding out~!”

You feel a chill run down your back but shake it off, trudging on forwards regardless of the threat made against your life.

You enter an adjacent room and explore some more, only to find yet another note and this one- at first glance- looks two be much shorter than the first two you found;

{“I’M SO SORRY, I HAD TO EAT. I HAD TO SURVIVE. I ATE THEM. I HAD TO I HAD TO I HAD TO I HAD TO”}

You don’t say anything after reading that, I mean... how can you? WHAT can you? You simply pocket the note and move on.

“This place has made monsters out of all of you, hasn’t it...?”

The following area in nothing more than another class room, you walk past the cardboard cut out of what looks to be the figure you’ve been seeing walking about the place.

“Miss Delight... huh...”

You don’t give it any more attention and open the final door, and there it is! The backup generator! Completing one final puzzle causes what little light was left inside the school to die out momentarily and

in doing so, emerges Miss Delight.

A wicked toothful grin sports her face, with half her ‘skin’ peeled off you can see the flesh and sinew that holds her together. And in one hand is what appears to be a makeshift mace, under the orange emergency lights it’s hard to tell just WHAT they’re made out of but you swear you can just barely make out what appears to be pencils.

White beady eyes stare back at you.

She is unmoving, simply staring, frozen like a statue before your gaze.

What follows next is nothing short of a game of “Red light, Green Light”. Look at her and she stops dead in her tracks, look away? And she’s free to move.

You can’t let her out of your sight, even for a moment as you retrace your steps back the way you came.

Her ragged breaths and mocking laughter fill the air, always telling you of where she is at all times, and due to her innate lack of ‘lips’ you’re thankful for that fact.

Every twist and turn, every time you’re forced to look away at her to face a battery wall socket or obstacle to maneuver around, sends you blood pressure skyrocketing.

That is until you’re given a brief moment of respite, but you don’t DARE to dilly dally, you KNOW death lingers just beyond the corner. And so you pursue onwards, despite the drumming in your chest.

You fiddle with this odd battery puzzle in front of you, it’s infuriating and confusing at times, but you manage.

Finally unlocking the main gate you sprint at full speed down the hallway, not caring to watch Miss Delight anymore. And something tells you that she’s not going to give you up and allow you to escape that easily.

With her footsteps quickly approaching you from behind, you rush into the small room and yank the lever down as hard as you can and watch as Miss Delight tries to slide down to catch up to you but the door was faster, crushing her skull in the process.

You stand there in quiet shock, catching your breath as you stare at her corpse, WAITING for her to move again.

You stare.

And you stare.

But she doesn’t move, breathing a sigh of relief you turn to leave but stop yourself midway.

A sudden and curious thought crosses your mind, ‘when was the last time that you were clean and not covered in blood and viscera?’

You stop and look down at yourself, you examine your shirt, and just as you go to grab it, you stop, noting the fresh coat of blood that now permeates and has soaked itself through the fabric of your one’s favorite shirt.

You click your tongue in and sigh through your nose, “It’s all right-“ you groan, “-when I get out of here, I’ll-“

Wait a moment.

WHEN you get out of here?

You turned to look back down at Miss Delight, for all you know, a month could’ve passed by since you

first got in here. That much time has already passed, it’s going to be a while until you finally get to leave, let alone find a clean pair of clothing.

You bend down to the corpse of Miss Delight and begin to pull off her red and white polkadot skirt. “ I’m so sorry” is all you whisper.

As a respect to her, you advert your eyes, and turn away. The skirt of Miss Delight is luckily, not soaked in blood that you find yourself that it may be useful to use to perhaps fashion a shirt for yourself.

“I guess you teaching me sewing all those years back, finally did come in handy, huh mom?” You mumbled to no one but yourself.

You leave the school, triumphant, and with a smile on your lips.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 9: Tired of the senseless slaughter, you save his life. And in return, HE saves YOURS.

—

IMPORTANT: For the best experience during the chase scene, please listen to the following song: “Ride to Glory by Epic Score”

As you leave the school, humming a tune to yourself, you notice something fall out from the red- and-white polka dot skirt. You give pause pause and bend down to reach for it with one hand, it’s a piece of paper.

“Another note?”

You read it;

{“The door opened today, and I heard something enter my hall. Together, Barb and I found CatNap

waiting. AL THIS TIME, ALL THIS AGONY. It was he WHO LOCKED THE DOOR, and I know it. I wanted to KILL HIM, but I knew better than to believe I could. he seemed oddly glad to see I was all that remained. We made a deal to take care of each other from now on what we see to the other, and to HIM.”}

You folded the piece of paper and pocketed it in your back pocket, “I guess I was right” you paused briefly, “I’m so sorry this happened to you...” you spoke solemnly, your gaze was cast downwards onto the fabric, you thumbed it gently before ultimately sighing and moving forward.

You can mourn later, not now.

As you left the hall and entered what looked to be a dead end, you took notice of the new apparatus that sat behind the Hoppy Hopscotch cardboard cut out. A red grabpack hand! How odd..

You attached the new hand and looked at it curiously; the hand had taken the pose of a ‘gun’ with the ring and pinkie finger curled inwards towards the palm and the middle and pointer finger serving as the ‘barrel’.

You took notice of the hole that lay in the middle finger and thought to yourself for a moment, there’s no way that they actually gave ‘guns’ to kids... right?

Cautiously you take a step back and turn back around to the dark hallway you just back back from and fired a shot down range.

What came out from the red hand was a bright shimmering light that you swore was hot for a brief moment as it whizzed beyond you and down the hall.

As it made contact with the ground, it lit up the surrounding area in a blood red light.

“Ah! A flare gun!” You smiled, excited at the new discovery. “This’ll come in handy.” Nodding and feeling satisfied with your new discovery, you made the rest of the way out of the

immediate area only to pause after you cross the threshold of the doorframe behind you.

You’re stunned into silence as you realize that you’re inside of a cavern. The area is MASSIVE and as you bend slightly, looking over the daunting edge of the cliff side you stand on, you can see a that there’s a lot of jumping platforms that require you to use the purple hand.

It’s... not your favorite mode of transportation, given that you’re situated over the maw of an endless cavern but, beggars can't be choosers.

You steel your nerves and cross the entire area, swinging up in the air and feeling the cool damp air of the cavern against your skin as you breeze by.

Eventually you reach an area that requires you to solve a large puzzle using a combination of the purple and blue hand to unlock an elevator that allows you to traverse to the next area. Of which, by the time you’re done solving it, you now have to traverse a very precarious catwalk, where parts of it have fallen into disarray and broken down.

As you walk in by, something in the darkness catches your eye and so you turn to face and look at it, due to the darkness, it’s quite hard to see and make out. Just as you attempt to fire a flare in the direction of the mass obscured by shadows, you’re stopped from doing so when you hear the catwalk beneath your feet creak and begin to give way.

In a panic you print the rest if the way and make a leap of faith, just barely avoiding death as the catwalk collapses behind you.

You’re much farther away now than before and whatever it was that you were looking at, would be near impossible to see from this angle so you pursue onwards.

As you cross the rest of the catwalk, in front of you is a metallic door with the logo ‘PLAYHOUSE’ above it. As soon as you enter, you find that the entire place has been shrouded in darkness with only some light sources working- barely- and giving you some brightness to work with.

It looks like the flare gun will be your safest bet to traverse this expanse.

As you move around, you find that you’re being stalked by toys that look just like that of the ‘smiling critters’, the same ones that you’ve been seeing on posters around Playtime Co.

Their weird little laughs and cries cause goosebumps to rise all over your arms, they're incredibly off putting and relentless in their chase.

You maneuver and meander around, going through tubes and a plush maze, firing flares as you go to frighten away the little beasts from you. It’s incredibly claustrophobic and you find that you want to leave this area as soon as you can, so you move quickly.

Keeping an eye out for their glowing beady eyes and an ear for their little sounds that key you in on their locations.

You thank your stars when you finally leave that room, sighing in relief as you go down a winding staircase and into a... pool room!

“Weird place to have pool parties...” you comment, before moving on.

As you open the door following the pool area, you’re met with what looks to be a room filled with cellars, each one adorned with hanging chains. Most likely used on the toys that would’ve inhabited this area.

Just as you’re about to ask yourself just WHAT toy could possibly warrant being chained up in a cellar,

your ears are greeted by the sound of a ragged cough nearby.

The sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin, but you steel yourself, preparing for the worst as you

follow the source.

And as you wind the corner, you find your answer to your questions.

A large canine, colored in orange and yellow ochre fur is hanged in his cellar by chains that are connected to the wall, they’re restricting both of his arms. He’s missing his lower half, the bottom of his cell is coated in dried blood, and on his waist is a belt buckle that is secured tightly so as to prevent him from dying of blood loss.

With the pose that he’s in, he looks akin to that of Jesus Christ when he was being crucified by the Romans on the cross.

You gasp in shock at the sight, reeling away slightly in horror at the sight.

“What... what happened to you?” You ask it, half wondering if you’ll get a response.

You watch as the dog lifts its head and as it does so, on its neck you notice its collar and on it is a plastic

tag of a large bright sun.

it finally clicks to you who this is.

“DogDay?” You tentatively call out.

You watch as he silently stares at you for a moment, and though you don’t see any pupils beneath that

darkness, you still feel the weight on his gaze on you.

“You... you’re Poppy’s angel...” he croaks out, voice tired and hoarse. “Come to save us-!” He pauses,

his head hanging low for a moment as he turns to look away from you. He shakes his head solemnly, “Nothing left to save, not here...”

He turns to look at you once more, “You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. THEIR home. A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away you bit by little bit-“

You watch him groan in pain as he attempts to shift, the shackles holding him in place are likely digging into his wrists.

“-fill what feels empty inside themselves. That... thing...CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics. These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.” Another painted groan escapes his lips, but that doesn’t stop him from explaining to you what has been

going in in the facility.

“ we tried to fight it, The Prototype’s control. I’m... the last of the Smiling Critters.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where the sadness within his voice becomes palpable to you, it makes

your heart ache that he’s suffered so much at the hands of that wretched beast- CatNap.

“Listen to me-“ he pleads, lifting his head up all the way now, trying to make as best eye contact as he

can with you, “-you NEED to get out of this place. You NEED to LIVE! You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment, the- Oh no... OH NO!”

You take a step back, shocked at the sudden change and turn to look just where his head is facing, from the bottom of his cell block, you watch as little beady white eyes begin to emerge from the large holes within the walls.

Instinctively, you fire a shot at it and manage to frighten the miniature critters.

You watch as DogDay turns to face you, “Leave me, please! Just go!... RUN!!” He urges you.

“You have to survive, Angel, you HAVE to. GO! GET OUT OF HERE!!”

You shake your head, “No, not again, I’m done with this-“ you tell him, firing yet another shot at the

little holes, frighting more of the critters away. “-I’ve had enough of seeing such senseless slaughter-“ You use the grabpack hands and grab simultaneously at both his chains and PULL!!

The chains SNAP with a loud crack, metal breaks and clangs, falling onto the floor loudly.

Just as DogDay is about to fall and hit the ground, you catch him as best you can with your arms.

“-HOLD ON!!”

You spare no second glance behind you as you run with DogDay, the poor canine clings onto you with what little strength remains within him.

The two of you fall through broken floor boards and rush through a large system of tunnels, with every twist and turn you hear the beasts behind you gaining ground.

The critters climb atop one another, moving together like a wave of water, a mass of cloth and fabric ready to pry and tare away at flesh.

But you won't let them win. Not this time.

As you traverse the tunnels, running with all your strength, behind you, DogDay turns his head to see if your pursuers have made any ground and feel his grip tighten.

“ITS OKAY-“ you try to comfort him, “-JUST HOLD ON!” “THEYRE GAINING ON US, ANGEL. WE WONT MAKE IT-“ “-YES WE WILL!!”

“SLIDE!!” You announce, “DUCK!!”

DogDay ducks with you, avoiding the lip of the ceiling.

You two slide down with such speed that it nearly launches you in such a way that you almost trip over

your own two feet but manage you catch yourself just in time.

You run down a small hall and towards a room that has a purple hand platform at its end.

“ANGEL, THE HAND!! SWAP HANDS!!”

“GOT IT!!”

You press a button and watch as the grabpack switches it’s green hand with the purple hand, and just in

time too.

As the wave of mini critters closes in.

You take the leap of faith.

And for a moment, time slows down to a crawl.

You’re both airborne for what seems forever, until you finally make contact with the ground.

And when you do, frantically get on the elevator and mash the button for it to lift you up. “COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, COME ON-!!”

You’re desperate, your hands are trembling.

As the machine slowly takes you to the platform above, from bellow you you watch as the critters

desperately climb atop one another to get at the two of you.

Once at the top, you feel DogDay tap your shoulder, “LEFT SIDE, SLIDE!! NOW!!”

You run, making a mad dash and duck, throwing your body into the slide, DogDay ducks with your

movements and holds on for dear life as you two slide down the enormous slide.

As you descend, you hear the slide creak, bend and shake under the weight of both of you. “Of fuck-!!” You shout as the slide gives way under your combined weight.

And so, the two of you fall..

And fall...

And fall...

Eventually you two land somewhere entirely new, but you’re not able to make out just where you are just yet, because when you finally descend, you two are flung with such great force that you both make contact with the wall. Leaving a small crater in its wake to the sheer force of the impact.

Thankfully though, your blow is cushioned by DogDay who, by some holy miracle, manages to place himself between you and the wall when you two were free falling.

You’re cradled by his arms as the two you fall harshly to the ground.

Groans are heard from both of you as you watch the tunnel that was created from the collapsed slide, come crumbling down on itself and create a massive cave in. Rubble descends down the hole following the two of you, eventually covering the entire tunnel itself.

Silence fills the air as the two of you lay there, you feel your consciousness slip from you, your vision going dark. Perhaps you had hit yourself a bit harder than anticipated on your way down.

“Angel? ANGEL!” DogDay shouts, desperation clings to his every word, “Stay with me, angel, stay with me!!”

Your vision goes black as darkness embraces you with open arms...

Chapter 10 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/53562580/chapters/135645178) : Respite Summary:

You and DogDay find some much needed respite after all the chaos you two had to endure.

{You find yourself sitting comfortably on the porch of your cottage home, a cool strawberry drink sits snugly in the palm of your hands. A cool summer breeze blows by, caressing your face, and with it brings promises of a better and brighter future...

Or so you thought...

“Mom?” You looked over to the beautiful female figure sat next to you, her face was crystal clear in your mind, even now. After all this time, you could still picture her, she looked the same as she did all those years ago.

“Do you really have to go? Can’t you call in sick?” You asked her, leaning into her touch as her hand caressed your cheek gently, “Please, mom-“ you whined, begging her to stay.

The woman looked down upon you with a gentle and loving smile that only a mother could bestow upon her child.

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“-don’t go...” you whined pitifully.

you watched as she leaned down close to you, gently she pressed her lips to your forehead before smiling

at you once more. “My sweet little Angel, don’t worry, I promise your father and I won’t be gone long. It’s only a work trip!”

You felt tears fall down your cheeks. Every night, it was always the same. The same dream.

Each.

And every.

Night.

No matter how much you begged and cried, she always left you.

“I’ll be back before you know it~!” She spoke, gently booping your nose with her finger.}

“M-...Mo..m...n-..no...” you groaned quietly.

As you slowly came to your senses you could hear a familiar male voice.

“Angel?! Oh-!” A gasp left his lips, “-Angel,darling- wake up... please, wake up...”

You felt yourself slowly being stirred back into reality, gentle hands shaking you and rubbing at your back in an attempt at rousing you awake.

Slowly, you blinked away the fog in your eyes and watched as the world around you slowly came into focus.

Your eyes finally focused onto the figure in front of you, DogDay.

The poor canine had been worried sick, he was curled up as close as he could- given the state of his body- to be next to you. Gentle hands wiped at your cheeks that were damp with tears.

“You were crying, Angel...” he explained, he kept his voice low so as to not startle you after you’d awaken.

“Are you alright? You were crying out for your mother...”

You stare at him dumbfounded and open your mouth to reply but bite back your response, only offering a look of concern in return to his own.

DogDay nods, seemingly understanding what you’re conveying, “Apologies, Angel. I... may have been too forward, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my right to know something so intimate.”

You shake your head, “I-It’s alright, you were only curious... it’s natural...”

As you two continue to lay there, you share a moment of silence between the two of you, where one of his lands lies comfortably atop your own.

“Angel?”

Suddenly, he breaks the silence.

“May I-“ there’s a pause, “Am I allowed a question?”

You nod, “of course.”

“Why did you save me?”

You pause and allow silence to fill the void for a moment, your eyes wandering as you think, until you

meet his gaze once more.

“I think EVERYONE deserves to live-“ you answer him, “- I’m tired of seeing all this death around

me...” you pause briefly, taking in a deep breathe. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He can’t help but chuckle at your response. “What?” You ask, “what’s so funny?”

He sighs, “You really are an angel sent from above to save us, huh...?”

You smile, cracking the first genuine laugh you’ve had in a long while, “Yeah, I guess so...”

You watch as DogDay slowly pulls away from you for a minute and aids you as best he can from his current position on the ground with one hand to help you get up from the floor.

You take his hand and slowly bring yourself up from the floor and stand up, you examine the grabpack and notice some minor damages to the equipment. Thankfully it appears to be nothing serious, just a few loose parts that need to be screwed on tighter.

“I think we should probably get some rest...” you add, examining your new surroundings. You’re in what appears to be the offices of Playtime Co.

“This place looks safe enough...” you watch as DogDay tries to do the same and examine his

surroundings, he too notes that the offices look relatively safe compared to the rest of PLAYCARE. Suddenly, a ringing catches you both by surprise and makes you jump nearly out of your skin. “What was that?!” DogDay asks, confused at the new noise.

“Ollie!”

“Who-?”

Before you could answer DogDay’s question, you reach for your phone which somehow managed to

survive the fall.

“Hey, are you alright?! No ouchies or lost body parts?”

On the other side of the Playtime Co. cellphone is what sounds to be a young boy’s voice, aged roughly

that of a child’s. It catches DogDay by surprise when he hears it.

At Ollie’s last comment, you look towards DogDay and frown slightly, “I’m alright-“ you speak into the

receiver, “-But... I can’t say the same for my friend.”

“Friend? Who's your new friend?”

“It’s DogDay” you reply, “here-“ you hand the phone to DogDay.

“Hello? Whose this?”

“Hey DogDay! My names Ollie! I’ve been helping Poppy, Y/N and Kissy Missy escape PLAYCARE.

I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N!” You hear Ollie speak to DogDay, seemingly getting him up to speed on the situation.

You watch as DogDay hums in response, “Thank you Ollie, for guiding angel along, you’ve done well in helping them...”

“Angel? Whose angel?”

You watch as DogDay seemingly stumbles over himself and his words for a moment, you can’t help but smile. If he could, you’d suspect he’d be blushing right about now from embarrassment.

“Y/N-! I-I’m referring to Y/N...!”

You hear Ollie laugh on the other end, “Oh! That makes sense!”

“Anyways-“ Ollie continues, “I’m really glad you’re both okay... I don’t wanna lose any more friends to

this place. We’re really close to the end! By the way, where are you two now?”

“In what appears to be a room full of offices...” DogDay adds, with some of your help, he finds himself

resting in your arms. Your surprised by how much he weighs and how you’re able to carry him with just enough effort, despite his size.

You’ve helped him see further into the halls of the area you’re in, down the hall, as far as the eye can see are nothing more than offices.

“Ah! I see. You two must be in the Counselor’s Office. Hmmm... it’s not ideal, but, If you two can manage to find that generator and get it going, it should have enough juice to power the Gas Production Zone and finally re-route that red smoke! Good luck you two, stay safe out there!”

And with that, the line goes dead.

You sigh and look to DogDay, he nods at you and the two of you move forward.

“Angel?” He asks

“Yes?”

“I’ll take you up on that offer to rest...” he comments, “That fall... it did a number on me and likely on

yourself as well. It’s paramount we get some much needed respite, gather your energy for what’s yet to come.”

You nod, he does have a point.

And so, you walk a little bit longer until you spot an office room that looks relatively clean in comparison to the others, save for all the scattered papers, it’s better than nothing.

You set DogDay down on the office chair and turn to step out of the room momentarily. “Wait, where are you going?” He asks you.

“I spotted a blanket on one of the offices, don’t worry, I’ll be right back!”

You didn’t go too far to find the blanket and when you did, true to your word, you returned.

You placed the oversized blanket down on the ground and picked up DogDay once more, before setting him down on the blanket.

“There... that should be better than being on the cold floor...” you paused, “Well... not really but-“ DogDay can’t help but laugh, “It’s alright, Angel, it’s the sentiment that counts...”

You smile and nod, joining your companion’s side as you sit next to him. You take off the grabpack and

begin trying to fix it as DogDay watches on.

“Angel? Do you mind me asking you something?”

You shake your head, “No, I don’t mind, what is it?”

“I... don’t think I recall seeing you work here... were you an employee?”

You shake your head, “No, not me, but my mom and dad were...” you explain, “They went missing in

08/08/1998... roughly ten years ago.”

“The hour of Joy...” you hear him mutter softly to himself.

There it is again, that phrase again.

What could it mean...?

“So, I take it you’re here searching for them, no?” He asks

You nod, “I am... why? Does that make me crazy?”

He shakes his head, “No... I don’t think it does... but-“ he pauses.

“But?” You egg on.

“But you ARE crazy for making it this far, Angel.” He watches for your expression carefully. “My

apologies”

You snort, “for what? You’re right.”

Silence hangs for a moment as the conversation dies down for a moment, you’re quick at work on the grabpack, finding yourself almost finished with the much needed repairs.

“You’re a mechanic?” He asks

“Hardly-“ you add, “-I only know what I know about machines thanks to my dad...”

“Who was your father? I-If you don’t mind me asking?”

“No worries- He was a technician for Playtime Co., he spent most of his time fixing electrical issues and

doing tech support for the machines and computers that broke down.”

“And what of your mother?”

“Mom?” You pause, “Mom told me she helped take care of the orphans in Playtime, the most she would

ever tell me was that she was directly responsible for making sure that they were always happy and healthy.” DogDay nods, soaking in the information as you speak to him.

“They sound like good people”

“And they were...” you pause, “...I miss them...”

DogDay cringes inwardly slightly, “I-I’m sorry Angel, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You shake your head, sighing deeply, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s another beat of silence before this time, YOU break it.

“And what about you?” You ask him

“Pardon?”

“We’re you always known as ‘DogDay’? Or were you someone else...?” You ask, taking notice of his

hesitance you add in, “I read about this thing called the “Bigger Bodies Initiative” and- from what I’ve gathered- it seems that... somehow... they used people and turned them into... toys.”

You hardly believed your own words, but the evidence was all there in the scraps of important documents you had collected, and that sort of evidence is hard to deny.

You watch as DogDay nods, “I was- am.” He corrects, “My real name is Oskar, Oskar Sonnen.”

You pause, your hands stilling for a moment at the mention of his name.

“That’s German” you add, surprised. “You’re German?”

He chuckles, “No, but I am descended from Germans, I’m American, born and raised. Why do you ask

Angel?”

“Well, your name literally means ‘dear sunny friend’ or ‘dear friend of sunshine’-“ you chuckle, your

smile widening, “-incredibly fitting for someone whose named ‘DogDay’”

You watch as he nods and chuckles alongside you, “You’re quite the keen observer, Angel.”

You nod, and you’re finally compete with the grabpack, finally setting it down on the ground beside you. You watch as DogDay stretches and yawns, he tries to make himself as comfortable as he can.

“Am I still allowed to call you DogDay, though? Or do you prefer Oskar?”

You watch as he seems to take a moment to consider your proposal before replying, “I’ll answer

regardless of whatever you decide to call me by, Angel.”

You nod, “DogDay it is then-“ you smile warmly at the canid, “-it suits you the most, after all...” you

gently boop his nose with your finger and watch as he chuckled, his whole body shaking in response to the wave of happiness.

“Thank you, my dear” You smile.

“Oh!” You jump up, suddenly remembering what else you wanted to ask him, “One last question?” “Anything for you, Angel, you deserve as much.”

“Where you an employee of Playtime Co. like my parents? A technician? A doctor?”

He shook his head, “No, not quite, I was... a low-level researcher during my time here...” he recalls,

“Pardon my memory, Angel, but I can hardly recall that era of my life. All I can offer you in response was that I helped the children in the Play area... that’s as far as my memory goes. Again, my deepest apologies.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to recall everything that happened to you...”

You yawn and stretch, and watch as DogDay does the same.

“It appears that rest is in order...” he states, “Come now, Angel. You must regain your energy-“ he says, patting the space in front of him.

You nod, making your way over to him, you decide to give him ample space to himself , but watch as his arm lazily droops over your waist, holding you there.

“-I sense that we’ll need all the energy we can muster for what’s to come next.”

You hum in agreement and sigh, grateful for this moment of respite to finally gather your energy and your bearings.

Despite laying down with DogDay on the hard wooden floor over a less than comfortable blanket, you find that you’re not as tired as you imagined.

No amount of counting sheep and thinking of stories within your head help to lull you into the warm embrace of sleep.

Your eyes pan over to DogDay and watch him, he’s still as can be safe for the slow rising and falling of

his chest.

He’s sound asleep.

Good, you know he needs it more than anyone.

Suddenly! An idea crosses your mind;If you’re GOING to defeat CatNap and put an end to this once and for all, you know deep down inside that with the current state that he’s in, DogDay won’t survive not even one minute next to the feline.

You HAVE to do something about it.

That’s when your brain reminds you of the red-and-white polka dot skirt you took from Miss Delight’s corpse.

You wager that if you can scour the remnants of these offices, you’ll probably find just enough fabric scraps to not only patch up DogDay, but hopefully gift him with new legs.

Determined to have this happen, you slowly and carefully pry yourself from DogDay’s warm embrace, you don’t want to rouse him awake. He NEEDS to rest.

Once freed, you slowly make your way out of the room, creeping along just quietly enough to not make as much noise as you can.

As you leave, you close the door behind you and slink off...

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 11: DogDay awakens to you missing.

Something feels wrong.

DogDay finds himself being roused by sleep’s warm embrace by none other than his own body.

He blinks a few times, removing the haze from his eyes. When they finally adjusts he notices the empty

space in front of him.

He feels his heart sink.

“Angel?” He half whispers, begging the stars above that you’re just behind him, distracted by the clutter

of papers.

With great effort, he gets himself to turn over and when he doesn’t see your form, a pang of terror

overwhelms him.

All he can think of is CatNap.

CatNap.

That FUCKER.

Rage bubbles inside of him.

Did he take you away from him when the two of you were resting? Did he stalk the two of you and

waited to strike when a moment of weakness- of calmness, had finally befallen the two of you? How very typical of him.

That fucking cat.

Nay- that DEMON.

That THING wasn’t CatNap, it wasn’t his friend anymore, whatever that thing was, it needed to be

defeated. And to be rid of this world.

Feeling the fear rise inside of him, DogDay couldn’t control himself anymore and began calling out for you, desperately praying that you weren’t that far from him.

“ANGEL?!”

That you were still alive. “ANGEL!!”

DogDay began crawling for the door, pulling himself forward with the use of his arms with what little strength he had left inside of him.

Just as he reached the door, extending an arm for the door knob, the door swung open.

And there you stood. You were safe.

“Oh thank God” DogDay sighed, as a wave of relief washed over him. “DogDay-“ you start, “Are you okay, I-“

You watch as his demeanor shifts from that of relief to anger.

“Where the HELL did you go, Angel?!”

“I-“

Wait, no... it wasn’t anger.

“Do you have ANY IDEA how dangerous what you just did?!” He was afraid.

Afraid of losing YOU.

You bite your lower lip and turn to look away from his gaze, your eyes are cast downward. He’s right, you know.

What you did WAS- no, IS incredibly dangerous.

CatNap could’ve found you and taken you, and DogDay would’ve been none the wiser.

You step inside the room and close the door behind you, making sure to lock it as you do so for safety’s sake.

As you step inside, DogDay is finally able to take note of what you’re doing; on your hands are what appear to be various scraps of fabric and cloth, all in various colors and varying in the materials that they were made from.

It finally clicks for him what you were doing.

You were searching for materials to repair him with.

“I’m sorry”

You turn your head to face him.

“I-I’m sorry, Angel, I-I shouldn’t have- I-“

You set the materials aside and kneel down to hug DogDay, pulling him into your embrace.

“No, I’M sorry...” you correct him, “I should’ve told you before you went to sleep.”

DogDay gives you a loving squeeze as you hug him, “Still, that doesn’t warrant me, yelling at you. I’m

so sorry. Truly.”

You chuckle slightly but shake your head, “No, I think it’s warranted.”

You carefully pull away and help DogDay back on the blanket and move towards the desk where you’d set the materials down before sitting besides him.

“This was the best I could do-“ you explained, displaying to him all of the fabric and cloth pieces you found in a neatly arranged pile before him: most were scraps you’d manage to tear off from the covers of the desk chairs with the help of a knife, the rest were just an array of cloth from curtains used for the faux windows or extra company clothes that were in storage.

“Oh! And I also managed to get this too-“ you pulled towards you the red-and-white polka dot fabric that had now taken on the shape of a sack, it was holding something inside it.

Upon opening it, out spilled a hefty sized pile of cotton and pieces of foam.

“I got it from the office chairs, it’ll help me reconstruct your legs.”

DogDay nodded, eyeing the wide array of fabric closely before turning to you. “But... you don’t have any twine or or even string, how do you-?”

“-funny that you mentioned that-“ you stopped him, pulling out a small basket of sewing supplies, “-it looks like one of the employees here was a hobbyist sewer.”

Opening the container you showcased all of the supplies available to you; measuring take, seam ripper, tailors chalk, hand sewing needles, pins and pincushion as well as multiple spools of thread.

DogDay hums and nods, “I suppose you were quite lucky, Angel.” “Absolutely” you agreed.

“Now, let’s get this started-“ you began, “-let’s make sure you’re comfortable before I start-“ as you say that, you finally slip off the sweater that you had tied onto your waist. It was a miracle that the thing was still intact after going through so much.

Folding it, you placed it under his head as a makeshift pillow. “Better?” You asked him.

“Oh, Angel-“ he gasped slightly, surprised. “-you don’t have t-“ “Better?” You echoed.

He nodded, “Better”

“Good” you smiled warmly and moved back into position, sitting in front of his open lower half.

It was incredibly jarring to you that you could just see inside of him like that, especially being able to see

what you assumed to be the sack that was likely holding his insides together.

Shaking off the worry that crept into you, you willed yourself to continue. You got this.

DogDay remained quiet as you worked on sewing him up, his eyes were focused mainly on how your nimble and graceful fingers gilded about.

You grabbed the fabric that was harvested from the office chairs since the material was the strongest and used that to reinforce the now sewn shut lower half. This piece of fabric was placed atop that area and sewn over.

As you worked, you found yourself humming the same song that your mother would sing to you since you were a baby: “♩♩♩ ♭♭♩♩♩♭♭...”

“You are my Sunshine” DogDay commented.

You laughed, blushing slightly, “Thanks, you too” you joked, knowing fully well he was just talking about the title.

DogDay, though incapable of blushing, audibly made a strangled noise which only made you laugh. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“Angel”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just messing with you!”

He laughs, and the sound makes you smile.

It’s been a while since you had any semblance of normalcy, it was nice. You wanted more of this.

Yes, you wanted more moments just like this one.

But with HIM alongside you.

It took a LONG while, but by the time you were done, you managed to sew DogDay a brand new pair of legs, made of mismatched fabric and cloth.

DogDay helped himself to sit up with his hands and eyed his new lower half.

“How does it feel?” You asked, “Are you able to move?”

DogDay attempted to move his foot but found that nothing occurred, worried he tried again and again. You stopped him with a gentle hand placed over his stomach, “It’s okay, don’t worry, it might take some

time for your body to realize that you now have a lower half.” You commented, “The same happens to humans who undergo surgeries where they reattach limbs after accidents or for people who wake up from comas. It takes the body some time to catch up and work.”

“Don’t overwork yourself and just take it slow, okay?”

DogDay nodded, “Thank you, Angel. I’m eternally indebted to you.” He proclaimed, gently he took your hand in his own hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

You couldn’t but smile and return the squeeze, “Anything for you, pumpkin.” You don’t even take notice of the term of endearment that escapes your lips.

But he does, and in response his hold on your hand doesn’t let up.

Not that you’d complain about it.

A thought crosses your mind and you turn to look behind you, there’s enough fabric and foam left over that you could probably use it for...

you turn back to him.

“Hey-“

“Yes, my dear?”

“-how do you feel about getting a new tail?”

DogDay blinks for a moment, oh... right! Yeah, he realizes that doesn’t have one. “That would be a great addition, Angel.”

You let go of his hand and DogDay finds himself quite upset at the sudden lack of physical contact. He watches you move back over to where your supplies are and pick them up, resuming your work at sewing.

DogDay lets out a satisfied sigh as he observes.

In comparison to repairing his body and reconstructing his legs, making a tail takes significantly less time to build.

“Considering that you’re roughly the same size of an American doorway, 6ft 7in, I have enough to make your tail-“ you pause, taking out your measuring tape and taking the length of the now fully assembled tail.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Want to continue reading? Click Me!

[celestialh4ven]

Miguel O’Hara headcanons

masterlist

SFW

He always cares for you when you’re sick, he’ll cook, clean and do every possible thing so you don’t have to lift a finger.

He doesn’t realize it at time but when he’s stressed he tends to claw and scratch on things (which is why your shared home is full of claw marks)

He loves loves LOVES giving you kisses, especially on the forehead, cheek, hand and neck.

He’s kinda overprotective, only because he doesn’t want to lose you.

He won’t admit it but he loves your height difference, it does things to him.

He’s not very good with emotions and sometimes doesn’t realize that his initial emotional response to some things aren’t…the best…

He’s such a gentleman, always holding the door for you, affirming to you daily how perfect you are, holds the door for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold and picks you up when your legs get tired.

He’s not the biggest fan of being taken cared of but if you push him enough he’ll let you take care of him.

He loves it when you massage him especially after a long day of swinging around, helps relax his aching muscles.

Though he’s not the kind of guy to flex on people,he loves it when you compliment his muscles.

He once carried you and swung you around the city as a date.

His kisses tend to get a bit heated, don’t mind him though, he can’t control it.

He loves it when you kiss him, though it’s just a simple gesture, it warms his heart.

(For non Spanish speakers) sometimes he’ll teach you a little bit of Spanish and will quickly kiss you when you make a mistake then correct you after.

NSFW

He tries not to be, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help but be rough in bed

He dick measures 12 in and is really really girthy ( it’s literally canon because I just know)

He loves biting you everywhere, you’re literally marked from head to toe.

His favourite positions are lotus, missionary, cowgirl, and he loves a good full Nelson if he’s feeling aroused enough.

Though he can be very animalistic in bed he’s actually really passionate and will give you a lot of kisses and praise.

He only bites you if you allow it since his venom paralyses, but the times you do allow him to he takes full advantage of it and uses your body how he pleases (ofc with your consent first), so you better hope you don’t have work the next day cause you’re gonna be sore.

He loves your face, and always want you to face him during sex so he’s able to see all your expressions and how good he’s making you feel.

When i say this man will EAT YOU OUT, I mean it. He’ll have both of your legs in his shoulders, web up your hands so you don’t escape and kiss, lick, suck and thrust his tongue into your pussy as if he hasn’t eaten in days.

He’s a service dom, most of the time, but there are some days he’ll let himself go and allow you please and dominate him.

Loves dirty talk, will say stuff like “Lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño.” “¿Puedes sentirme en tu vientre?" as he’s caressing your belly bulge, or “You make me feel so good... my love.” “Qué muñequita tan bonita eres para mí".

Curses in Spanish when he’s close

His load is so thick and creamy, fills you up nice and good (good lord I’m so down bad for this man)

A part if him loves overstimulating you and how you squirt all over him when he does so.

He’ll accidentally claw at you sometimes but he makes sure he doesn’t hurt you, so yes you have a whole bunch of claw and bite marks around your body.

( if you’re on the thick/chubby side) he’ll leave so many kisses in between your thighs cause he’s loves how squishy they are, he’ll also make you sit in his face a lot, slapping your ass and thighs as he eats you out.

(If you’re on the muscular/gym girlie side) he’ll be so rough with you and will tease you, telling you “Oh cmon mi amor…you should be able to take it now shouldn’t you?”

He loves fucking you in the comfort of your home, he despises quickees so much, he’d rather wait till you Both are home so he can properly please you.

(Giggled and kicked my feet while writing this 🤭, part two of The misunderstanding is coming soon guys)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, heavy suggestive themes, lots of kissing, intimate touching, domestic!Simon

Word Count: 8k

A/N: Part Nine of Ink & Needle

Evie fractures. You spend the evening with Simon in his apartment. An unwanted caller makes contact.

Chapter Eight // Chapter Ten

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

The excitement of the day is starting to set in. Everything was a whirlwind this morning, and only now, in the quiet of the kitchen in Evie’s Cambridge home, is it all beginning to catch up with you.

The continuously growing list of things to do is as messy and vast as the scattered assembly of carryout boxes on the kitchen island. Most of it is Chinese takeout boxes—which, to your disappointment—is not like American Chinese takeout at all. Evie thought it hilarious when you began opening boxes only to discover multiple containers of curry sauce and mushy peas. Greasy burgers were ordered and consumed instead. Now, as you begin sifting through the mess, tossing containers into a trash bag, exhaustion is showing its teeth, reminding you just how hectic it’s been.

Outside the patio doors, the sun is low, it’s beams hardly breaking over the natural hedge fence along the property line. The lights above the kitchen island and stove are on, adding to the low, warm glow of the evening sun. Scattered across the countertop behind you are various stacks of paperwork. You and Evie need to go through all of it, but you’re unwilling to burden her with too much.

Evie is still grieving, and she’s eight months pregnant, quickly approaching nine. The only thing Evie needs to worry about is getting plenty of rest and the upcoming labor. She doesn’t need to fret over conversations with the estate agent or Archie’s solicitor. Not to mention the fact that the solicitor brought up potential troubles with Archie’s family, indicating a barrister might be needed if they decide to fight over Archie’s money. That did not reach Evie’s ears. Those people have already done enough, and if you can, you’ll keep their poison away for as long as possible.

No. The main concern is Evie’s pregnancy. With the move to London, all of Evie’s medical history has to be transferred to her new hospital and doctor. It’s incredibly close to the due date for everyone’s liking, but it can’t be helped. Evie won’t be giving birth in Cambridge.

Sighing, you toss yet another empty container into the bag, purposefully keeping your back to the stack of papers. You offered up the idea to the estate agent of selling the place fully furnished to which you were quickly dismissed. Frustrating, because it means your job becomes much more difficult, but understandable. People want to make new memories. They don’t want to cling to someone else’s old ones.

Over dinner, you and Evie discussed how she wanted to clear out the house of her belongings. Sell it? Donate it? Put it in storage? Take it with her? There wasn’t a true decision but there was an agreement on beginning the process.

It’s a start. It’s something.

Tomorrow, Friday afternoon to be exact, you and Evie are heading back to London. It’s a quick turnaround, but you’re eager to return and see your wraith. Just thinking of him, speaking his name in your mind, is enough to swirl the quietly simmering heat in your belly to a healthy boil. The warmth that arrives with Simon’s name spreads to your toes and throughout your limbs.

Smiling, nearly giggling, cheeks fevering with the memory of his kisses from Monday, you lightly press the tips of your fingers to your lips, floating in the memory of how they tasted his skin.

Then, you remember where you are. And what you’re supposed to be doing.

“Get a fucking grip,” you mutter under your breath, stuffing the last of the takeout boxes into the trash bag.

When you return from tossing the bag into the outside bin, you wash your hands before reaching for your phone. In the group chat with Jade and Sam, you give them a quick update, silencing your phone afterward, plugging it in to charge for the night.

Evie is upstairs somewhere, likely rummaging around in things she shouldn’t be. She has a knack for that, doing things without asking for help, believing that doing so is a sign of weakness. It’s that American Midwest can-do attitude. Independent and self-sufficient. A good ole’ Missouri girl. That’s Evelyn Green.

Rubbing at your right temple, you head upstairs, aiming for the master bedroom. The door stands open, and as you approach, you stop short the frame when you hear a choked, strangled sob.

“Evie?” you call out.

You listen intently, not sure if you’ve misheard. But you hear it again, a pained sound that sounds more injured animal than human.

Cold fear twists your stomach, drags it down to the floor, stomps all over it and grins.

“Evie!”

Shoving through the door, you don’t find her anywhere. Scanning the master bedroom, you notice the scattered clothes across the bed and the rumpled sheets. But the room is dark. The only light comes from the walk-in closet. Its angles are sharp like a blade and you fear the worst. What if she’s fallen? Surely, you would have heard the crash, or a solid thump?

Heading toward it, the rising fear intensifies until it lodges in your throat, waiting to emerge like a striking snake.

You step into the beam of light.

Sitting in the middle of a large pile of clothes is Evie.

She’s bent over, at least, as bent as her belly will allow her to be. Her pale cheeks are slashed with red and tear-stained. Her shoulders shake with every sob, each one appearing painful. And, in her hands, she cradles a little beige box.

The lid is off. The white ribbon on the top is yellowed and brittle. It rests to the left of Evie’s right foot on one of Archie’s button ups. Within that little beige box is a boutonnière. It’s Archie’s boutonnière. The one he wore on their wedding. It’s dried out now, more potpourri than flower, a silent witness to Evie’s suffering.

“Oh. Evie,” you sigh, going down on your knees in front of her, your hands outstretched but not touching, unsure of how she’s needing comfort.

She glances up. Chokes. Hiccups. “He’s gone,” she whimpers, and all you want to do is absorb her pain.

“I know,” you murmur. “I know, Evie. I’m so sorry.”

“He—he’s gone.” Fresh tears form in the corners of her eyes. They quickly compound on each other, rapidly filling the bottom of her eyelids. “He’s gone and I—”

A gut-wrenching sob rips from her. Like someone is reaching down her throat to tear out her vocal cords.

With extreme gentleness, you place one hand on her shoulder. The other cradles her hand holding the small beige box. “Evie—”

“He’s gone!” she wails. “And this is all I have left!” Evie gestures around at the clothes.

“You have so much more than that,” you soothe, lightly rubbing her shoulder in slow circles.

But Evie is shaking her head, sniffling hard, sucking up all the phlegm that threatens to slip from her nostrils. She’s a mess. A cacophony of a storm.

She glances up. Stares at the ceiling of the closet. “What happens when I start to forget his face?” Evie turns her gaze to you, the defeat and sorrow there sharp enough to shred the soul. “What happens then?”

“You won’t,” you insist, grasping the sides of her face. Strands of her dark hair stick to her tear-stained skin. Your brush them out of the way. “You love him, and the memory of that love is enough.”

Evie keeps shaking her head. “I can’t do this,” she murmurs, cradling her belly with one hand. “How do I do this without him?”

“You can, Evelyn Green. And you’re not alone. You have me. And Amelia. Jade. Sam.” With the pad of your thumb, you remove a few falling tears from her cheek. “This baby will be surrounded by love. She’ll never be without. She will always be safe. And when you tell her stories of her father, all she’ll know is how much you love him, and how much he wanted to meet her.”

Tears spillover to paint Evie’s cheeks as she leans into you. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her close, offering your shoulder to rest her head on. Neither of you talks, and this isn’t your place to say anything at all. This is for Evie, and whatever she needs.

Keeping one hand clutching the beige box, Evie reaches up with the other, fingers wrapping around your forearm. Digging, digging in where they land and are sure to leave little half-moons behind. Fuck it. You hardly care. You’re too focused on keeping her aloft, on being Evie’s anchor where she has none.

You won’t allow your friend to sink.

You stay like this until your knees hurt and your lower back aches. You stay like this until Evie signals she’s ready to let go with a gentle squeeze of your arm. As she pulls away, Evie wipes at her eyes. She still clings to that little box, but she needs rest, and you know she’ll never forgive herself if she takes it to bed with her and crushes it.

Placing both hands around the box, you silently implore her to let go. Evie does, hesitantly, and you lay the precious cargo on the ground. Presenting your hands, you put Evie to bed, keeping watch until you’re certain she’s truly asleep and not faking it for your benefit.

Only then do you return to the closet. Only then do you lift the little box from off the floor to carry it downstairs and set it next to your charging phone. Going to the mantel over the fireplace, you select your favorite photo from Archie and Evie’s wedding day. It’s a simple one, but the love oozes from it, sticks in between your teeth to blissfully rot away the enamel.

In the photo, Archie and Evie look at each other and not into the camera. It’s not staged. Just a moment caught when they thought no one was looking. A moment special only to them. Taking it to the kitchen, you rest it next to the box holding Archie’s boutonnière.

By the time you crawl into bed in the guestroom, it’s close to morning.

The few hours you manage to snag are not nearly enough. And when you awaken, you realize quickly that there is no amount of coffee in the world that can save you. Dragging yourself from bed, you clean up the clothes Evie left on the floor of the closet without disturbing her. Down in the kitchen, you make breakfast and place several phone calls. Nearly all of them are to Archie’s solicitor and the estate agent.

You’re exhausted. Fucking gone, but you have to do this for her.

Evie doesn’t drag herself out of bed until almost noon. By that time, the two of you need to start heading back to London. You take the driver seat, and Evie sits passenger with the little box holding Archie’s boutonnière and the framed photo resting in her lap.

“Simon came to see you,” are the first words out of Amelia’s mouth when she greets you.

“He did?” you squeak, nearly dropping the bag you just removed from the trunk of the car. Excitement and giddiness blooms in your chest.

Simon came to see you. He came…to see you.

But why would he not? He chased you down. Pursued you. Looked for you relentlessly. Of course he’d come by. You know this.

After visiting him at 141 Ink on Monday morning, you stopped to grab some groceries before heading home. Amelia and Evie nearly tackled you when you came through the door, both of them eager, pecking like annoying hens, seeking information. Too embarrassed to admit that you’d straddled him in front of the big window and sucked on his neck, you glossed over the more intimate moments much to their frustration.

Amelia had popped open a bottle of wine afterward and asked you if you knew anything about his history in the military. In all honesty, you know very little, just what he mentioned that morning. Thinking about it now, you truly don’t know anything concrete about your wraith. Physical chemistry is a good thing to possess, but that won’t last if there is nothing else to connect to.

Amelia already appeared to know this, and mentioned that you might want to take a delicate step with him in that area. “A bad injury” is what she said, but Amelia didn’t know any of the details. Then again, Amelia might know, and was only considering Simon’s privacy.

“Oh, yes. He was here. Burst through the backdoor and yelled at me for forgetting to lock the front one.”

Evie’s head pops up above the top of the car. “He yelled at you?”

You glance at Amelia, unbelieving that someone like Simon would raise his voice at her.

“Oh, posh,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Perhaps yell is a strong word. Growled. Said with irritation. Better?” Amelia shrugs one of the bags over her shoulder.

You and Evie exchange a knowing glance.

Could you go see him tonight? You consider the options. You could stay here and have dinner with Amelia and Evie. Or, you could go see Simon. Enter his shop while he’s working, observe him in his elements. And afterward—

“Are you all right? You look like you’re about ready to faint.” Amelia’s voice snaps you back to reality.

Shit.

Evie stands slightly left and back to Amelia. She’s grinning, knowing exactly where your mind drifted off to.

You smile awkwardly. “I’m fine. Just surprised.”

Amelia makes a face like she doesn’t believe that for a second. But she shrugs, not commenting about it. “You should visit him. It’s Friday. Make a night of it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hurriedly, not wanting to sound too eager.

Amelia scoffs. “Evie and I will be perfectly fine.” She turns to Evie pointedly. “Won’t we?”

“Perfectly peachy,” winks Evie, shimmying her shoulders suggestively at you before following a cackling Amelia inside.

Your grab several more bags as if one less trip will truly cut into seeing Simon time. Then it’s done, and you’re nearly sprinting up the stairs for a shower and a change of clothes.

“How do I look?” you ask around your toothbrush, turning slightly so Evie can see every angle.

Evie glances up from her phone and grins. “If Simon isn’t all over you the moment you walk through the door, he’s a fucking idiot.” She points at you with her phone. “And you can tell him I said that.”

You snort, and then cover your mouth quickly. Evie laughs too but it’s more of a wheeze and that only makes the strangled, airless sounds you both make that much worse.

“Oh shit,” hisses Evie. “I peed. Thanks, bitch.” She half-rolls, half-flops out of the bed and starts waddling toward the bathroom.

“You’re welcome,” you call out to her retreating back.

Evie holds out her middle finger before shutting the bathroom door. Pulling on your coat and grabbing your purse off the top of the dresser, you head downstairs to slip on your boots.

Every step you take toward 141 Ink is light. Unhurried. It’s easy. Yes, you’re anxious, but that’s only because you’re eager to see Simon, to feel his hands on you, and forget yourself for a bit in his embrace.

As you near, that nervousness starts to slither up, blooming like a poisonous flower. Beautiful, but deadly, waiting for you to consume it. The black and eggplant-purple exterior come into view and that only amplifies what is already screeching under your skin.

“You’ve got this,” you tell yourself. “It’s fine. Calm. Down.”

Your heart and brain and limbs won’t listen. It amplifies further as you reach for the door.

Pushing it open, you’re met with warm air and the scent of pine underlined with the faintest hint of sterile cleaning solution. There is no soft chime when the door opens, but it might have been swallowed up by the music. Heavy metal rushes out from the speakers. It’s not overly loud, nothing that would damage the ears, but it’s certainly loud enough to muffle a conversation. You’re curious if this is Simon’s choice, or if it’s the customer currently in the tattoo chair.

Your glimpse of Simon and his client is brief. Immediately upon entrance, an all-black German Shepard leaps off the couch and greets you, tail wagging so fast it stirs up the air creating a breeze.

“Hello, Bravo,” you croon, scratching under his chin and then between his ears. Bravo leans into it, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in perfect contentment. “Good boy.”

When you straighten your back and glance up, you notice Simon in the back of the room next to the tattoo chair. He sits on a small stool with a black cushion on wheels. The person receiving their tattoo is on their stomach, back presented to Simon as he works. He hasn’t noticed you yet. He’s completely lost in his craft.

You take this time to observe him, standing there in the entrance of his parlor while Bravo aggressively licks the inside of your hand. Simon isn’t wearing a jacket, only a black t-shirt with short sleeves. It fits him snuggly, clearly hugging every muscle. Both tattoo sleeves are on full display. One is solid black. The other consist of various images and symbols that all interweave around each other. Other than the black t-shirt, Simon wears black joggers and sneakers.

Simon sits up a bit, rolls both shoulders. The muscles in his arms flex with the movement. Your wraith is all power. There is so much strength there, and your brain conjures up the memory of Riot Room when Simon lifted you effortlessly, held you aloft as he brought your bodies together over and over again.

He dips the tip of the needle into the ink, bends forward, returning it to the skin. Returning to his work. You desire closeness, to admire the art as he’s creating it on the man’s back, but also don’t wish to disturb his concentration. Watching him in his natural elements is peaceful. All that earlier anxiety is suddenly gone.

When Simon reaches for the ink again, Simon finally glances up. The moment your gazes lock, he freezes, hovering in a moment of stasis. It breaks, and Simon starts to stand, his arm extending outward to turn off the tattoo gun.

Nope. No. This is not what you want. You’ve disturbed him, throttled his concentration.

You shake your head vehemently, holding up both hands, pointing at the couch in the waiting area. Bravo lightly headbutts your thigh, clearly upset that you’ve taken away your hand for him to lick.

Simon holds his position. Knees slightly bent, legs just starting to extend like he’s ready to leap up at your request. Moving quickly, you settle yourself on the couch, Bravo jumping up next to you, snuggling down onto his belly, his large head plopping into your lap.

Only then does Simon sink back onto his stool.

The distance between the two of you is too much for your liking, but you know the feeling is mutual. Simon’s gaze is heated, and his body, which at first faced the client in the chair, is turned in your direction. Those dark, gorgeous eyes of his linger. They drag up your body, and back down again. Simon is taking his time, and under that wanton stare, you feel bare. Exposed. Chest cavity broken up and strewn out. Vulnerable.

It's unnerving. And yet thrilling. It’s how you felt when you first accepted his offer at Riot Room, when you off-handedly brought up the proposition and Simon made sure to end it.

His gaze remains a few seconds longer before Simon finally returns to the man lying face down on the chair. With one hand on top of Bravo’s head, you press the other hand to your cheek. It’s hot. Feverish. And you suddenly notice the growing slickness between your thighs.

Attempting to shift focus, you give most of your attention to Bravo, talking softly to the dog about your day, lulling the massive hound to sleep.

Even like this, you can’t help but notice all the times that Simon consistently glances up from his work, gaze focused in on you like you’ll somehow disappear. Sometimes it’s a quick one-two and he’s right back in it, set in on his work. Other times, he draws it out, as if silently telling you that he sees you. Those glances seize your heart, wrenching it right down into your stomach.

Once Bravo falls into a gentle snooze, and you have nothing else to direct your attention toward—except Simon’s lingering stares—you opt for productivity. With no idea how much longer Simon has with his client, you slip your phone out of your coat pocket and start catching up on work emails. Several deadlines are approaching quickly, and you’re terribly behind. You need an afternoon to yourself to simple work without interruptions. But that’s been difficult, especially when most of your time has been devoted to Evie.

“Done.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Simon’s deep timbre. The client stretches, half-rolling half-stumbling to his feet.

Simon gestures for them to turn around. “Back to the mirror,” he instructs.

From off a rolling cart, Simon snags a hand mirror, presenting it to the client. It allows the man to admire Simon’s work. You have a clear view of the mirror. It’s just an outline, but it’s massive, covering the man’s entire back.

“Color and shading will take a couple sessions,” says Simon. “What do you think?”

You don’t catch what the man says, but you do hear Simon’s amused chuckle. He takes the hand mirror and places it on the tattoo chair. The two of them talk for a bit as money is exchanged and Simon hands him a care packet. The client shrugs on his shirt and coat, heading for the door.

As he approaches, he slows, noticing you on the couch. The corner of his mouth turns upward. He pointedly takes his time opening the door, a flirty smile on his face aimed at you as he steps out onto the street.

When the door clicks shut, you glance at Simon. His fists are clenched, hanging at his sides. Those dark eyes of his are bullets, ready to kill, completely fixated on the shut door.

“Simon,” you call out softly, a little of your worry slipping in. His gaze immediately adjusts, moving to you, softening entirely when he takes you in.

He tears off his black latex gloves and tosses them into the trash, already striding toward you as he does so. Bravo grumbles a protest as you bolt upward and off the sofa. You don’t even make it halfway to Simon before he’s on you, grabbing at the back of your neck and your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

There isn’t a chance for you to push up the balaclava. And Simon doesn’t appear to care. He kisses you through the rough material, and you giggle against his cloth-covered lips.

“Simon,” you laugh, pushing lightly on his chest with your palms, voice slightly muffled from the balaclava.

He pulls back just enough to give you the faintest bit of breathing room. Then, he’s shoving his balaclava up to his nose, revealing those gorgeous lips of his. They are there and gone quickly, Simon already reclaiming what is so rightfully his.

You open and Simon slips his tongue inside, fingers digging roughly into the back of your neck, drawing you closer. This kiss is desperate. Needy. And so full of emotion that when he draws back, you’re momentarily breathless.

Simon’s smile is soft and you easily match it with one of you own. “Amelia told me you stopped by,” you murmur.

“You went to Cambridge,” he states. It’s not a question, and that gives you pause.

You nod. “I did.” You do not elaborate or give him an explanation. The situation with Evie is…complicated. While you wish to tell Simon everything, you also don’t want to unload, to dump all your worries onto him without warning.

“Do I have you for the evening?” he asks, hopefulness laced within the words.

A creeping sadness wiggles in. Simon cannot have you for the whole evening even though you’d love nothing more than to stay the entire night. But you won’t allow the disappointment to make a home. You are still here, with him, and that is enough.

“You have me for a few hours,” you answer, waiting for the discontent on his end.

It does not come.

Simon’s thumb traces the length of your throat. His smile is still there. Unchanged. “Do you want to join me upstairs?”

“Upstairs?”

“To my flat. For a drink.”

“Oh.”

“If not it’s fine,” says Simon quickly. “I understand. Quieter than one of the pubs.”

You nod eagerly, popping up on your toes. “Yes,” you breathe. “I’d like that.”

Going upstairs to his flat means that you and Simon will truly be alone. And that singular thought, one that speaks to uninterrupted pleasure, starts a thrumming in the lower recessives of your belly that only moves farther south with each passing second.

“Good,” he sighs with relief.

Did he think you’d say no? Is Simon just as nervous, just as eager to want to be with you?

Have you not thought about me? Not once? Because I’ve thought of you. Every day.

And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?

Of course he does. Of course.

“Just need to,” he gestures to the room. “Close up.”

“How can I help?” you ask.

Simon thinks for a moment. “Floors?”

“Done.”

The two of you work in tandem, moving through the motions in a natural, domestic dance that seems so normal and so routine that it doesn’t feel odd. It’s comfortable. Cozy. Like you could live this life easily and not regret a single moment.

When the floors are cleaned, and surfaces are sanitized, Simon shuts off the main lights, locks the front door, and arms the alarm system.

Simon doesn’t say anything. Just overs his hand to you, palm upward.

There is no hesitation on your end.

Gently, you take his offered palm, admiring the little tattoos on his fingers as they fold over your hand. Simon guides you to a door you’ve never noticed before. It’s blocked off by a curtain, and when Simon opens it, the two of you step into a narrow hall. To your right is a door that leads out to the sidewalk. To your left is a staircase heading up to a landing.

Simon’s grip on your hand tightens as if you’ll make a run for the street. He does this sometimes. You’ve noticed these tiny gestures where he seems to cling a little too tight, and you question whether it’s a need to feel close to you, or anxiety.

Remembering what Amelia told you the other day, that you may need to be gentle with him, that Simon had a bad injury, you consider how that might influence someone. How it might change their perspective on things.

You return his tightened grip with a gentle squeeze of reassurance, silently prompting him to take the lead. Simon does, bringing you to the top of the landing. The front door doesn’t have a traditional lock but a passcode. Strange. Completely odd. But, then again, Simon is ex-military. Old habits?

Simon punches a series of buttons and the little red light on the top righthand side turns green. The audible sound of gears turning and locks—definitely plural—unlatching reaches your ears. Simon pushes down on the handle, and then you’re inside, Bravo right on your heels.

You’ve never thought about what Simon’s space might look like. Perhaps you figured it would be like any other bachelor pad. But Simon’s home is warm, and has a similar feel to the tattoo shop downstairs.

The interior is industrial with brick walls and exposed grey-black pipes running along the ceiling. The floor is hardwood, a deep, rich brown. To your left is a kitchen and dining area. All the cabinetry is black, the countertops butcher block, and the appliances stainless steel. To your right is the living room. The television is massive, and the sofa is large. You easily picture yourself and Simon snuggled on it, watching a movie.

Directly ahead of you is a short hallway. It branches left, disappearing to a place you cannot see. But you do notice an open bedroom doorway to the right of the end of the short hall.

“I have whiskey.”

You glance away from the doorway and find Simon. He nods toward a small bar next to the dining table. He’s right. There is only whiskey there. “Then whiskey it is.”

Simon laughs softly and grabs two rocks glasses. His gaze scans over the various bottles. Finally selecting one, Simon lifts it from its perch. Removing the cork, Simon pours a double on both. He brings your glass to you, and you take it with both hands, glancing down at the amber liquid.

This will hit you hard. You haven’t eaten since lunch.

“Are you hungry?” asks Simon, as if reading your mind.

“What?” you blink, looking up.

“I can order us something. Or I could cook.”

“You cook?”

“I’ve perfected a few meals.” Simon shrugs. “And instant ramen.”

“Instant ramen?” you ask, deadpan.

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, the whiskey in his glass sloshing slightly as he does. “And other things.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he says automatically.

He wants to do this. He wants to do this.

“Okay. Yeah.” You nod. “You pick. Cook’s choice.”

Simons starts to turn away, but promptly returns, holding up his hand like he’s about to say something. He pauses, and sets his whiskey down. “Hold on.”

“Holding,” you say to his retreating back.

Simon disappears for a minute and reappears clutching a stack of papers. At first, you’re confused, but as he draws closer, you recognize them for what they are.

They’re pages out of a sketchbook, and there isn’t just a handful. Simon has to be holding as least a few dozen individual pieces of paper. And that’s not even the most startling thing. It’s the way he’s holding them, almost nervously, his thumbs rubbing the pages in an anxious tick.

Simon presents the stack to you. “Couldn’t decide on what I liked best.”

Your whiskey glass is on the dining table in an instant. Fingers itching, you gently take the papers from him. Already, from the very top sketch, you’re awed by the artistry. You don’t even look as you sink down into a chair. Placing them on the table, you begin to fan them out in a wide arc.

“These are lovely, Simon,” you murmur, captivated by how creative his mind is.

“You don’t need to select one today. Take a look and pick what you’re leaning toward.”

Quickly, you sift through them, spreading them out across the table, dividing them up to make the process easier. It’s almost overwhelming. Some of the pieces are similar, but most of them are entirely different. Completely unique.

As you start through your first organized stack, Simon is already in the kitchen, a large pot of water on the range. Before him on the countertop is a small pile of flour. He makes a well, cracks three eggs into the center, and the smallest splash of water. Taking a fork, he starts to whisk.

Is he—no.

You hold a paper in each hand but you’re not even looking at the artwork. You’re watching Simon make pasta. Fucking pasta. From scratch. And he’s not breaking a sweat. He looks so goddamn casual it’s almost maddening.

Bravo sits at your side, but all of his attention is on Simon. He licks his chops periodically but is otherwise statuesque. Your wraith wraps up the dough and sets it aside, quickly cleaning up his mess before retrieving a large frying pan, cutting board, and sauce pot.

Glancing between the artwork you pick up and Simon’s movement in the kitchen, you start to see a different side of him. Garlic, onion, fresh basil, and grape tomatoes are tossed into the sauce pot. Oil is drizzled into the large pan. Chicken breasts are pounded out, made thin, and then coated in breadcrumbs.

You at the table. Him in the kitchen, cooking you dinner. Nothing planned. Just present and existing, content with each other’s company.

By the time you’ve sorted through all the sketches and selected ten you’re leaning toward, Simon is rolling out the dough, cutting it into long strands, depositing the homemade spaghetti into the salted boiling water. The chicken cutlets are finishing under the broiler, topped with chunky tomato sauce and cheese.

Bravo’s no longer sitting but laying down. He’s still alert to everything happening in the kitchen, but Simon is meticulous, dropping nothing for Bravo to vacuum up.

“Simon?”

“Hm?” He briefly glances at you over his shoulder before returning his attention to the pot of cooking pasta.

You lick your lips, pausing before asking the question. “How did you get the tattoo shop?”

The tongs Simon holds hesitate before dipping into the water. “Part of my retirement,” he answers. Cooked pasta and leftover sauce are tossed together.

“Military retirement?” He nods but says nothing. You’re not sure if this will be too sensitive to ask, but you’re curious, and Amelia’s words from earlier in the week keep grating on your mind. “What did you do to earn you an entire tattoo shop at retirement?”

Simon divides the pasta up between two plates. “Early retirement from an injury. Got me this flat, too.”

Early retirement? An injury? What the fuck happened to him that the government would give him enough money to afford all this? That is unheard of, at least by American standards. You couldn’t say for certain what it’s like here, but it couldn’t be much different.

You sip on your whiskey, the amber liquid burning smoothly on the way down. “So you didn’t plan on becoming a tattoo artist originally?”

Simon shuts off the broiler and removes the breaded chicken cutlets. Placing them on a fresh cutting board, Simon slices them quickly, transferring one cutlet to each plate. “I was military.”

“I know,” you say quickly. “But—did you ever think about after?”

Opening a nearby drawer, Simon grabs two knives and two forks. “Sometimes.”

Why is he being so evasive? Was the injury that bad? Thinking on it, you do recall several scars. There is the one running along the edge of his jaw. That one is clear to the eye. The other scars you noticed were hidden under the ink.

Simon picks up the plates and you hastily clear away the sketches, piling up the ones you didn’t select.

“Find anything?”

“These.” You gently push a small stack toward him.

Simon doesn’t even look at them until your plate is in front of you and you’re holding the silverware. Social norms and general social expectations might say to be dainty when with a new romantic partner, but the food in front of you is begging to be devoured. Simon made this for you to enjoy, and you’re going to do just that.

And Simon doesn’t appear to give a shit anyway. With one hand, he’s cutting through his chicken. The other is spreading out the sketches you selected, his gaze entirely fixed on the paper. He takes a bite of his food. Chews. Lifts a sketch up to study it.

You tuck in, eating but silent, observing every twitch and change in Simon’s expression. There are few of note. You have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he conjuring up new sketches already? Is he itching to pick up his pencil or charcoal or whatever he enjoys working with and starting immediately? Is Simon surprised by your choices?

The strongest reaction you pick up on is the arch of a singular eyebrow.

Eventually, he nods, seeming satisfied. With one hand, Simon neatly situates your selections into a stack, setting it aside. Your plate is nearly empty at this point, inhaling the meal like an addict.

Simon settles into his chair, his gaze fixating on you. “Why’d you go to Cambridge?”

Does Simon mean to make it feel like an accusation?

“I went for Evie,” you answer.

“Your friend.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“In London? Yes. I am.”

You don’t know how far you can take this conversation before crossing into territory you don’t want to discuss. It’s not that you don’t want to discuss it with him, you simply fear the idea that you might unload on him. You are fully aware how stressing the entire situation with Evie is, but Simon doesn’t need to hear all of it at once. There are some things that are private. There are some things that if spoken to another, might break Evie’s trust in you.

Simon twirls his fork in his hand. “She’s pregnant.”

“Very pregnant,” you add.

“Married?”

How the fuck do you answer that?

“Widow,” you decide, because it’s the truth, and there isn’t any reason to hide it.

“How recent?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“She buried him a week ago.”

Simon stops twirling his fork. “A week?” You hear the surprise in his tone.

“Dead two. Buried one.” Saying it like that makes it sound so final. Archie is gone, and Evie is alone in that regard. She’s lost a piece of herself. A pillar of support.

This whole time, Simon’s gaze has been locked on you. But it drops down toward the floor for a brief few seconds before returning. Sometimes you really wish he’d take that balaclava off so you can get a full picture of what might be happening behind it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Simon doesn’t press for more, and you nearly sigh with relief.

“I’m helping her for a bit. Easy for me since I work remote.”

“What do you do?”

Oh shit. Simon doesn’t know. All this time, and it’s never come up in conversation.

“Freelance mostly. Technical writing and editing.”

Simon swallows and takes a sip of his whiskey. “And what is that?”

“User manuals, medical documents, press releases.” You list a few more things and as you do, Simon’s lips stretch into a smile. “What?” you ask.

“That sounds incredibly boring.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you try not to choke. “Pays the bills. Wouldn’t call it exciting.”

This is easier conversation. This is what a normal back-and-forth is supposed to be between two people. Isn’t it?

But what is normal about this dynamic? The two of you met and hooked up in the basement of a club. You ran and he chased, kept chasing for three years, and when you finally appeared before him, you ran again and he followed after you without hesitating.

“Can you stay?” asks Simon, and you hear the silent plea in his voice. It draws up every needy thought simmering beneath your skin.

“For a bit,” you reply, purposefully being non-specific.

He inclines his head toward your plate. “Finished?”

“Yes.” You start to pick it up, standing with the intention to take it to the sink. Simon is having none of it. He whisks it out of your hands before your legs have a chance to fully extend. You plop your ass back in the chair.

Simon rinses out pans and cleans knives. Sitting in a chair and doing nothing is not something you’re accustomed to.

“Would you like me to help?”

“I’d like you to relax.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur, finishing off the last of your whiskey.

He washes his hands and dries them on a towel. As he strides toward the dining table, he snaps at Bravo. “Kennel.”

Bravo’s ears droop, but he complies to Simon’s command.

Simon watches the German Shepard disappear down the hallway. He turns toward you, offering his hand. When you place your hand in his, Simon’s fingers take hold, drawing you out of your chair, pulling you against his body. His other hand cradles the side of your neck and lower half of your jaw. His thumb traces over your bottom lip.

“Can I take you to bed?” he asks, voice slightly husky with need. His thumb returns to your bottom lip, lightly pressing on it. “I want to kiss you. To touch you.” Simon is still holding on to your hand.

Not sex then? Just kisses. Touches. Even the thought of that is sending you into overdrive, every nerve in your body firing at once until your heart thuds loudly in your ears.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper, hardly believing you managed to get the words out.

Slowly, Simon’s hand falls away from your face. It is a gentle release, one that speaks of desire but doesn’t feel so primal and raw as when the two of you first came together. Walking backwards, Simon leads, entering into the dark of his apartment, heading down the hall, and entering the bedroom you noticed earlier.

You don’t even glance at your surroundings. You’re too focused on Simon, and the way he guides you around, easing you onto your back upon the bed. He drapes himself over you like a protective cocoon. One knee slides between your legs, forcing them to apart. The other digs into the bed just shy of your thigh.

Simon rests his forearm just above and to the side of your head. His other hand immediately goes to your waist. You are pinned in. You are under him, and it’s deliciously perfect. Better than what you’ve conjured up in your head. Beneath him, you feel protected. Safe.

Your fingers are already on the balaclava, pushing it up further, seeking him. You know not to go past the eyes, and while it pains you to not see Simon fully, you respect the boundary. That will fall away eventually. As will your uneasiness about being completely open and honest with him about Evie’s situation.

These things will happen. They have to. You want them to.

The moment you have full access to his lips, Simon is on you. Your hands fist the front of his shirt, dragging him closer. Simon lowers himself, his pelvis slotting perfectly with yours. Each kiss is slow. Measured. Every stroke of his hand along your waist, hips, and thighs sends a wave of rippling heat straight to your core.

It grows and grows, melting your resolve into mush. Your legs fall open wider, and Simon instinctually moves in. You clearly sense his needs. It’s fucking poking you. And fuck—what’s a few more hours? You can stay. You can.

Your hand slides between your bodies, slipping beneath the waistband of his joggers, your fingers finding him, wrapping around his hardness.

Simon swallows down a groan as his hips reflexively press against your palm. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy, his teeth finding your throat.

Simon gently bites your neck, his large hand squeezing your thigh in warning. “Keep touching me like that and you won’t leave this bed until morning.”

The intensity of his delivery zaps you right out of your haze. “Sorry,” you gasp, withdrawing your hand quickly.

Simon’s answering growl pins you to the spot. He snatches your retreating arm, encircling the wrist, only to draw your hand back to him.

“Never apologize for touching me. Never.” His lips and teeth trace over your skin. When he finds your lips again, there is nothing chaste about the way he tastes you.

“Simon—”

“Not tonight. I—Not like this.”

Your hand that still rests on his chest slides upward. One finger delicately traces that scar you know so well.

“Will you walk me home?”

“You never have to ask.”

Simon guides your hand away from his groin. In the next moment, he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting up and off the bed, and onto your feet.

He’s smiling down at you, and it’s full of joy. You don’t know how to receive it. It’s almost too much, and you slightly feel undeserving of it.

“I’ll grab my coat.” You start to move but Simon’s arms around your waist tighten.

“Wait.” You glance up, find an intensity in his stare. “Can I take you out?”

“On a date?” you blurt.

“Movies. Dinner.” He shrugs. “Normal things.”

Your lips part slightly in confusion. There is nothing normal about Simon. “You don’t want to take me out for normal dates,” you say slowly.

Simon’s jaw clenches. “No.”

You grin, knowing you’ve trapped him. “What kind of date would you actually like to take me on?” Leaning forward, you rest your chin on his chest.

“Take you for a ride for starters.”

“On a bicycle?” you ask with mock innocence.

Simon sharply lands a slap to your ass. “I’ll put you back on that bed.”

“Promise?”

His answer is a growl, and a firm squeeze. “I’d take you to the coast. Or the country. Maybe up to Manchester. Show you where I grew up. All my favorite spots.”

“Go on,” you entreat.

“I’d show you the Highlands. Stay in a little cottage on a friend’s family farm.”

“What else?”

Simon’s brow softens, and then he’s bending down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. “I’d make new memories with you,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Promise?”

“That’s a fucking guarantee, love.”

For several minutes, the two of you embrace just inside his bedroom door. For several minutes, the two of you almost return to the bed, to fall right back into each other’s arms. But Simon has far more control than you.

Coats are collected. Bravo’s leash is found and attached to the dog’s collar.

The two of you don’t hold hands on your walk to Amelia’s. Instead, the two of you loosely intertwine a few fingers. There is no rush. No need to arrive quickly. And while there is silence, it’s a contented, peaceful thing.

Reviving. You are reawakening with Simon.

At Amelia’s front door, your parting kiss is not a kiss at all. With both hands, Simon cradles your face, closes his eyes, and rests his forehead against yours. You match him, closing your own eyes, placing your hands over his, simply breathing in his presence.

You’re practically skipping up the stairs to your shared bedroom with Evie. You expect to find her asleep. But when you open the door, you don’t find her tucked under the covers. She’s sitting up, resting against the headboard, wide awake, and crying quietly.

“What is it?” you ask, panicked, dropping your purse and coat onto the floor, crawling onto the bed to reach for her.

Evie wipes at her eyes, smirking through her tears. “Shouldn’t you be in your man’s bed right now?”

“Oh hush,” you mutter, waving her comment off. “What is it?”

Her smile falters. “Archie’s older brother called.”

The panic disappears. The contentment and peace that clings to you from your time with Simon evaporates instantly. All of it is gone. Poof. Like a popped balloon.

In its place is a seething anger.

“What the fuck does he want?”

“He wants to meet.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @lialacleaf @theshrikeandcanary @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @creamwhxre @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @c0pernicus @josephquinnschesthair @corvusmorte @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @knight4xmas @jupiternighties @darling006 @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @carma-fanficaddict @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @tiredmetalenthusiast

[stomach-bugg09]

uhhhh can i please request a sully! reader fic wherein she’s lo’ak’s twin and is so so much like jake that although neytiri wouldnt admit it (shes her favorite) but shes also smart like her uncle tommy and brave like her late uncle tsu’tey? i just want more platonic and familial sully family love 🥹 basically just her life and the people she’s impacted, maybe she almost dies bc come on lets give neteyam a break 😭 and her family’s reactions + her recovering 🙏🙏🙏🙏

sully family x lo’akstwin!reader

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @eywas-heir

a/n: so, first of all, thank you so much for the request!! second of all, this is so cute and def right up my ally. i decided that, just bc it's generally broad, i’d format it as a head canon so i can continue to test my horizons with writing. hopefully i do your req justice!! feedback is always appreciated. (p.s... please send in requests 🙏🙏 i need the inspo)

you were a sully, and sullys stick together

lo'ak's twin headcanons

being lo’ak’s (older) twin, there’d always been some sort of… fued, if you will, between the two of you. of course, it was light hearted—most of the time.

you’d always try and one-up each other, watching each other’s (extremely dangerous) antics and deciding that the next best idea was to perform something even riskier. let's just say, the two of you liked to keep neytiri and jake on their toes.

because of your quite idiotic decisions, both of your parents, although it was usually more jake than neytiri, felt like they were constantly scolding the two of you. together.

and don't even get me started on poor neteyam, always trying to take the blame from you two. man, he is tired. can't you just be.. i don’t know, smart for once? (the answer is no)

but, one thing that neytiri and jake constantly talk to each other about is the reason you and lo'ak are hazards to yourself and to others is all because of jake. you are just too goddamn alike — dangerously so!

as a result of the two of you being a constant reminder of his own problematic personality, he is harsher on the two of you than he intends.

he’s just scared of you getting hurt.

neytiri almost always reprimands her mate for yelling at the two of you, but she also knows exactly where he’s coming from. she’s been on the front lines of jake’s stupidity for years, so she’s all too familiar with the dangers it brings

but, joke as they might about how dumb you are when it comes to risking your life just to one-up your twin, a small sentimental part of jake notices how goddamn smart you are. not only is your daring personality similar to himself, your intelligence is uncanny to his own twin.

every day he’s reminded of tommy — as you sit next to him with a map, helping him plan the escape route if a raid goes wrong, as you converse with norm, as you examine every living creature that wanders the forest… all of it is a reminder of the brother he once cherished, and that just makes you even more valuable to keep safe (from other threats, but mostly from yourself + lo’ak)

sometimes, when you’re sitting with your father and discussing the best way to approach or escape a raid, neytiri will be sitting nearby, doing her own duties. she always has at least one ear open to listen, and as she hears the alarmingly mature and smart words that leave your mouth, she swells with pride. she may deny it forever and ever, but a part of her favors you because of.. well, everything in all honesty. you're a brave young woman who knows exactly how to speak for herself, what's there not to like?

on occasion, when you aren’t grounded for doing something dumb, neytiri will take you on hunts. the two of you bond, and it is just adorable because mother-daughter bonding is where it's at.

and do not forget how brave you are. oh my god, how is it even possible that you jump towards danger. you would put your life on the line for your siblings, and you would do it again and again. in that, neytiri is reminded of tsu’tey, another piece of pride being sewn into her soul.

now… what happens when you guys have to leave?

well, first of all, let's acknowledge the fact that yes, you did join neteyam and lo’ak to flying from your spots on patrol and into the raid. why’d you do it? lo’ak said he was. it was a no-brainer.

secondly! yes, you were extremely proud when lo’ak flipped the avatars off after they captured you. and you most definitely bit the one that held you when it was your time to escape. and then maybe you hit him over the head with a gun on the forest floor. (you couldn't do anything after that — kiri grabbed you before you could.)

now, when you got word from your parents that you would be leaving… you were not happy. like, at all. you were actually quite pissed, if anything.

the forest was your home. weren’t you just giving the sky-people even more satisfaction by allowing them to drive you from your home?

but, alas, you were eventually able to tone down your stubbornness and actually understand your parents’ point. you were in danger, and that meant having to sacrifice comfort for the lives of you and your siblings.

so, off you went.

by the time you reached the metkayina tribe, your ass was so extremely sore from riding your ikran all that ways. and your legs were so very stiff. do not recommend!!

oh, and the way that that metkayina boy eyed your apparent “freak-like attributes,” that had you set off pretty quickly. kiri had to grab your wrist before you thought to say or do anything.

the pride you felt when your mother stood her ground… of how we love neytiri. an absolute boss.

but, all in all, you could stay. so.. you did. and even you had to admit, the water was gorgeous, even if swimming was the worst form of cardio.

you were quicker to learning the metkayina ways than your twin was, so that was gratifying of course. but, you also knew it wasn’t all that easy learning to breathe when he was head over heels for the girl teaching him (a fact that you definitely did not miss… and you most definitely teased him for it)

now, of course when it gets the point in with ao’nung being an absolute bitch ass to your sister… oh yeah you wouldn't let that slide. unfortunately, you came to scene a tad late, so you only witnessed the ends of the fight. that didn't keep you from smiling with pride at your two brothers who annihilated a group of.. what? four? five? it's hard to say, but they still somehow “won?”

and do NOT get me started on when you and neteyam found out what ao’nung did to lo’ak. you almost murdered a bitch. thank the lord lo’ak ended up being okay, because otherwise ao’nung would have been dead.

you were skeptical at first when lo’ak told your group about payakan. but, based on your deep rooted knowledge of each other, it didn't take long for you to realize he was telling the truth.

so, when it came the time post sky-people’s arrival, you were completely on-board to join lo’ak to warn the whale.

you, of course, tried your hardest to remove the tracker, but you were also an unfortunate victim of yet another kid-napping.

by the time neteyam saved you, lo’ak, tsireya, and tuk (who clung closely to you as soon as you were released), you and lo’ak were fully aware of spider’s presence on the ship

while you weren't really looking to save the human boy, you knew, morally, you would feel better if you did… so, you left tuk to tsireya and joined the boys

you have a lot of battle intelligence just based from listening to your father speak and eavesdropping on the conversations he had when planning raids, so you helped neteyam lead the way.

unfortunately, by the time you all escaped, a bullet had pierced your shoulder. you could barely keep your head above the surface.

you barely even acknowledged as your brothers laid you on a rock, tears pouring down their cheeks as they attempted to not only reassure you, but reassure themselves.

you were losing blood quickly, but tsireya was quick. she knew exactly what to do, so she did it. neytiri and jake were barely functional as they watched the metkayina girl tend to your shoulder. but, as much as they wanted to, they could not stay. they had two other daughters kidnapped by quaritch.

so, as they went to save their girls, tsireya kept your from bleeding out (temporarily) before rushing the two of you on her ilu back to her mother.

the recovery process was long but sweet. every member of your family was overjoyed when you woke up and ended up being alive and okay. lots of tears were shed.

they were quick to help you recover to your full abilities, and they were more excited than you were everytime that you reached a new achievement. getting out of bed was apparently something to be proud of.

but, all in all, you were a sully, and sullys stick together.

[rythyme]

hello ok so i saw your recent ex-morning posts and like i watched sotus but i have No Idea what's going on at the moment. f it's not too much effort can you explain why the ex-morning stuff is so, i dunno how to say it, noteworthy, i guess? like just what's up maybe?

Tl;dr: The Ex-Morning is GMMTV's literal RPF with the serial numbers filed off, starring the actors from said RPF.

i'll do my best to explain more under the cut

ok let's do this

SOTUS and KristSingto were some of the biggest cash cows GMMTV has ever had. I would argue that the success of SOTUS in 2016 is the main reason we have a BL renaissance today.

Krist and Singto have not acted together since 2018. Until recently, it was assumed that they would never be paired up again.

There were rumors that they had a falling out, which supposedly explained why they stopped acting together. Mostly speculation, but who knows.

Krist made a poor taste comment a while back that led to him being somewhat "cancelled" for a few years. He only started dipping his toes back into BL last year.

Singto, on the other hand, never stopped acting in BLs and has had at least 6 on-screen male acting partners since then (maybe more if you count his one-sided crushes on Mike and Lee Thanat in Baker Boys, or whatever the hell was going on in Shadow). This is very notable, since the BL business model tends to keep acting pairs in the same "ship" for years at a time.

Acting pairs almost never "get back together" after getting a new male acting partner. The literal only exception I can think of is when Tay Tawan acted with Joss Wayar in 3 Will Be Free and then continued to act with New in DBK/Cherry Magic.

Despite everything, KristSingto is still extremely popular among fans to this day and is still one of the most popular "ships" of all time.

When Singto's schedule opened up, GMMTV finally got the opportunity to profit off of it again -- in the most intentional and transparent way possible.

The plot of The Ex-Morning -- exes reuniting and falling for each other again -- mirrors the careers and relationship of Singto and Krist. The fact that Krist's character has a publicity blunder and has to restore his reputation is even more fuel for the fire.

The director for The Ex-Morning is the same director who made SOTUS

The flashback in The Ex-Morning shows Krist and Singto with their signature iced coffee and pink milk, which intentionally calls back to their characters in SOTUS.

P'Aof, who is said to be writing some of the screenplay for The Ex-Morning, said that he wrote it to match Krist and Singto's relationship. This story was tailor made for them.

Conclusion: GMMTV is going for the SOTUS / KristSingto cash grab by essentially having Aof write some kind of amalgamation of KristSingto RPF and SOTUS post-canon future fic.

Do I know that it's a blatant cash grab? Yes. Will I will be watching it anyway because it looks low-key good in its own right? Also yes.

[absurd-ash]

Hi I have a request! How about a love potion one shot or head canon with lmk Macaque and fem (s/o)? Please and thank u 🙏🏻

Love Potion Headcanons

{Macaque x FemReader}

I don't even know how this man got his hands on a love potion, but once he does, uh, watch out, 'cause this guy is all over you.

I don't mean in a physical way, no, he only touches you to show his affection if he knows for a fact that your love language is physical touch

And even if thats the case, it's only small touches, he was never much of a touchy person after all, even with the love potion. The touches are like side hugs, bumping shoulders together, and touching your cheek with his tail

No, I mean that this man is all over you by showering you head to toe in compliments and flirts

You can bet his dramatic ass is spewing out cheesy yet romantic flirts every chance he gets

"If I had a star for every time you brightened up my day, I would have a galaxy in my hands~"

If he ever makes you blush, this man has the smuggest smirk ever

"Awww, did I make you blush Princess~?"

And then he would continue to flirt with you, desperately needing to see you'r flustered face

Even with the love potion, he isn't the best with expressing his feelings, so instead, he shows you that he cares by being with you 24-7

wherever you go, he follows

You going to the kitchen to get some water? He's right behind you, maybe he'll even help you get a cup from a high shelf

You wanting to go out shopping or to eat dinner? Again, right behind you. He couldn't possibly let you go outside on your own, there's dangerous people out there after all

You needing to go to the bathroom? Of course he won't go in there with you. But he would definitely be sitting outside the door, like a puppy waiting for their owner to come home.

He would 24-7 have his tail wrapped around you waist, tugging you closer to him whenever you went just a bit too far from him

Whenever someone got just a bit too close to you, (especially SWK), Macaque would drape his arm across your shoulders, glaring at whoever you were talking too

Speaking of Wukong, he absolutely hates just the thought of you in the same room as SWK

Would absolutely just shadow portal you away from Wukong and into your home or his dojo

"Uh, princess? You mind telling me what the fuck that was for, huh?"

He absolutely took that personally, as if you had meant to insult him or something

Afterward, he dragged you over to your couch, as well as getting his shadow clones to get several pillows and blankets so he can make a nest-like area on the couch that you two cuddled in for the rest of the day, refusing to let you leave from his grasp

"Macaque, let me go! I have to get stuff done!"

"No can do Princess, your stuck here with me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First request done! Hoped you like it! :D

-Ash