#he’s such a fucking loser i love him more than life itself

[k00ldino]

v.. vector

[hqbaby]

fourteen — kiss me again

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]

Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.

“How—”

“Do—”

You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.

He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”

You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”

The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.

“Did it just—”

“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”

You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.

“How long does it usually last?” he asks.

“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”

You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”

You hum. “I guess.”

The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.

This little song and dance goes on for a while until—

“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.

You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”

He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”

“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”

You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”

“Felt that way to me.”

“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”

“Fuck you. You love me.”

His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.

“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.

He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”

“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”

You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.

You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?

You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”

There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.

You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”

“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”

You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”

You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”

The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.

Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.

You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.

His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,

You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”

His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.

A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”

He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”

You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”

“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”

He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”

He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.

He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.

You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.

“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”

You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”

“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”

You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.

The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.

He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”

His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.

Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.

When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.

“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.

You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”

The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.

“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.

You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”

He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”

You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.

“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.

“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.

“Do you want me to—”

“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”

“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”

“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”

You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”

notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 

— I don’t want to kill you. 

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 

— Are you going to rape me? 

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 

— Nein. Thought I told you already. 

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 

— I won’t kill you. 

— But you will hurt me. 

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 

No, he doesn’t. 

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 

— I…I did. 

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

[anyasathenaeum]

Hello! I feel like I might have already requested this before your ask box was wiped, but how about a virgin!Knives x Reader smutfic?? I love how you characterized him as shy and flustered over the idea of sex in that one crackfic you wrote 😵 I hope you have a great day and life is treating you well!! You're one of my favorite writers regardless of what you write :D

A/N: Hey anon! Yes, I remember this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but here it is! This is my first (serious) attempt at smut with Knives, so uhhhhhhhhh please don't come for me, I tried my best. I've decided to start with some headcanons followed by the fic itself, apologies - it's long. Also, anon - thank you SO much for your comment, you're super sweet and I'm sorry I took so long to get to this. All the best! Warnings: MINORS DNI, Virgin!Knives, AFAB!reader (female terminology is used), hinting towards plants having "heats", a touch of yandere-ish behaviour (it's Knives, so not entirely surprising) penetrative sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), reader is submissive in this one, rough sex, marking, a little bit of a breeding kink, Knives being a Loser™, he's kinda in love with you but the fucker definitely refuses to admit it, name-calling (Knives calls reader things like "slut" and such) Word Count: 3.3k

Virgin!Knives is definitely not nearly as confident and as ruthless as he is in all other points of his life - he might seem like he knows what he's doing, but deep down? Man is SHY, but he'd rather die than have anybody realize that

Seriously, you won't ever hear him talking about sex, and he doesn't even use the word if he can afford to outside of the bedroom

When it comes to his first time, he likes to make it seem like he's in charge and like he fucks all the time, but he's literally just a hair breadth away from cumming the moment you touch him for the first time.

Would absolutely make you ride him (mostly because he has no idea what he's doing), but he plays it off with cool indifference and because he "just wants you to please him".

He tries to make up for it, trying to be more forceful or rough with his thrusts, talking dirty to you and calling you names, but it's a double-edged sword because the moment you're crying out his name and squeezing around him, he sees stars and cums WAY too soon.

Basically, Virgin!Knives is a mess and wants to seem like he's still in charge in bed, but with a few thrusts of your own, driving him deeper and deeper into you, you'd have him falling apart beneath you in moments.

But, of course, because he's not human, his stamina is INSANE and the moment he cums for the first time inside you, it unhinges him (do I sense a breeding kink???) and suddenly he's chasing orgasm after orgasm using you, and you're definitely not gonna be leaving his bed for the next few days.

Full fic below! Enjoy!

"Are you sure this is what you want, Master Knives?"

The question slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You just couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Millions Knives, the independent plant who you'd been working for for years, had had you brought to his chambers in the middle of the night so that he could ask you something important.

"Are you questioning me, pet?"

The way Knives glared at you, his gaze cold and calculated, made shivers course down your spine, and you quickly bowed your head.

"No, Master Knives. Not at all. I was merely surprised by your request. I apologize."

Knives simply raised his eyebrow as he continued to gaze at you, taking in your form as you stood before him. You'd initially been just some filthy human he was forced to keep around due to your utility and your skills, but over time, as much as Knives refused to admit to it, you'd grown on him. You were one of the more intelligent of your species, it seemed, and one that seemed to know its place whenever you spoke to him. But, in the end, you were still just a lowly, miserable human, part of the plague that threatened Plants across the planet.

So... why?

Why did Knives feel this... pull towards you? Why did he have to fight the urge to be near you each and every time he spotted you, the urge to tuck you against him with his wing and whisk you away, out of sight and out of reach of all others? Why did he feel rage boiling up within him whenever you smiled or laughed at something somebody else had said? A fair share of other henchmen had lost lives and limbs just for speaking to you (not that you knew that, of course - they just conveniently "disappeared" during a mission).

Beyond just those moments, Knives had also noticed... other things. A warmth that seemed to bloom from whatever part of him had brushed your skin, spreading through the rest of his body until it became full blown heat. This heat was unbearable to resist and made him feel as though it were burning him alive from the inside out, unquenchable even when he took matters into his own hands time and time again.

Knives wasn't a fool. He knew of the lust and the need to reproduce that his kind often felt, but he'd never experienced it himself ever before. Not until you showed up. But, you were part of the very thing Knives had sworn to destroy, so why did his body call to you in this way? Why did his body betray him so? What was it about you that made him feel this way?

"You heard me, (Y/N)," Knives spoke slowly and quietly, his gaze not leaving you for a moment as he lounged on his bed, "I wish for you to stay the night."

"Yes, Master Knives."

"You will not speak of this to anybody," he continued, his voice scarily level, "Or I shall ensure you are permanently silenced."

You simply bowed your head again, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.

You had always had an interest in Knives - asides from being somebody who was hired to work from him, you found him a truly interesting being. An independent plant, more beautiful than any living creature you'd ever seen before, hellbent on exterminating the human race to save his sister plants and trying to find his twin brother, another independent plant. He was always transparent of his end goal, and despite it all, you had still agreed to work for him. After all, humanity was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better - you'd seen proof of that time and time again throughout your life.

So, here you were - working tirelessly so he could achieve his goal.

Although, you hadn't expected to be summoned to Knives's chambers so late in the night, and you certainly hadn't anticipated him to wish for you to stay the night. You'd been summoned to his chambers several times in the past, sometimes for work purposes, other times simply on a whim, and you weren't ignorant of the way you felt around Knives.

His presence made you feel simultaneously safe and on edge, as if something was always just about to occur. As though there were always words hanging in the air between you two, just waiting to be spoken but never truly acknowledged.

Despite his reputation of being unforgiving and ruthless, you'd never been on the receiving end of that side of him, somehow. He could be harsh and sharp with his words and his actions, but he'd never caused you any true harm. You couldn't ignore the way your skin felt as though electricity coursed through it whenever Knives accidentally brushed against you, or the way the heat rose to your cheeks whenever you found him watching you intently. He never looked away immediately whenever you caught him staring at you, simply maintaining his gaze and ensuring to keep eye contact with you for a couple moments before looking away almost lazily, as if he'd grown bored of you. But the fact that he did it so often... could it mean?...

You didn't dare let yourself hope. It couldn't possibly mean anything. After all, you were just a human. Unworthy of him in every possible way.

And yet, here you were, summoned to his chambers in the middle of the night and told you were to stay with him overnight. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what this meant.

"W-Where am I to sleep, Master Knives?" You inquired softly, not daring to look up at him.

Knives would've scoffed and laughed had it been any other person standing before him, but this was you. His pet, of sorts. And as much as he refused to accept it, you softened him. You weakened him.

"We'll address that later, pet. Come here."

Before you could process everything, you found yourself approaching Knives's bed, stopping right before it and waiting for his commands, not wanting to overstep.

"Did I not make myself clear? Here, pet," Knives all but hissed, making it clear he wanted you right on the bed next to him.

Blushing slightly, you quickly followed his demand, crawling into his bed so you were right by his side. You could feel his gaze on you, and you risked a glimpse at his face - his expression was surprisingly calm, almost curious as he studied you as you sat there next to him on his bed.

"Don't move," Knives whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to your face.

Immediately, you froze, almost afraid to breathe.

"So obedient," you heard Knives chuckle, clearly amused, "What a good pet I have."

Without further comments, you felt Knives's fingers beginning to trace over your skin, skimming lightly over your cheeks and making his way over the bridge of your nose, then down over your lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, more gentle than you ever thought him capable, but you remained silent as he continued his barely-there touches.

You struggled to ignore the beating of your heart and the roaring of your blood in your ears, your whole body feeling like a livewire. You had to remind yourself not to let your mind wander and make your hidden desires obvious, but something in the way Knives was watching you made you believe that he already knew of your hidden desires. You felt your face heating up even worse than before as you looked away from Knives, suddenly finding the threading of the bedding very interesting.

"I don't understand you."

Knives's sudden voice startled you, making you jump slightly as you sat there next to him. However, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Look at me, (Y/N)."

Slowly, you brought your gaze up to look at Knives, trying not to let your heart beat straight out of your chest as you did so. His icy blue gaze was steady as it trained on your face, still studying you even intently.

"What do you not understand about me?" You asked quietly, steeling yourself as you held Knives's gaze.

After a couple moments, Knives replied quietly, "I don't understand what it is about you that makes my body feel this way. How you, a mere human... are the only one who has the ability to set my soul and my body aflame. I get no rest because of you."

You felt your heart stop for a moment before it began to thunder violently in your chest, your eyes widening in surprise. There was no way that he meant what you thought he meant.

"Master Knives, I-"

"Nai."

You looked at him curiously, and Knives simply continued, "In here, I'm not Master Knives. My name is Nai. You use my name, here and only here."

"Yes, Nai," you replied softly, testing out his name on your tongue.

"I think you know why I've summoned you to stay the night, now. Don't you, (Y/N)?"

You nodded, making Nai smirk slightly, "Clever pet."

Without a second of hesitation, you felt Nai's hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you down against him and slotting his lips to yours in a passionate, lustful kiss.

You let out a small, muffled yelp as you fell forward onto him, your lips pressing against his and your eyes wide in surprise. His taste was surprisingly bright, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, eyes closing and matching his passion in the kiss within moments. You felt Nai's hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled you on top of him, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you lustfully, his desire for you overwhelming his typically-controlled self.

Despite the kiss being lustful and filled with desire, you found that Nai's kiss still felt as though he were holding something back. Was it simply due to him not being as invested as you believed him to be? Or was it for some other reason? Regardless, you found your hands coming up to cup Nai's face gently as you continued to kiss him, his hands resting firmly on your hips and holding you in place.

You could feel Nai's hands pressing your hips down hard against him, and underneath his robe and through your clothes, you could feel something hard rubbing against your core. A wanton moan escaped you as Nai continued to force you down onto him, getting you to grind on him as his hands guided your hips. You could feel your pussy beginning to soak through your panties, and your whole body shuddered as Nai pulled away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together.

You watched as Nai's knives suddenly appeared from him, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened in fear, and you tried to figure out what you'd done wrong, your whole body freezing and your blood turning to ice. However, the blades of the knives didn't touch your skin, instead the tentacles slowly working their way under your clothing, cutting piece by piece loose and letting the scraps of fabric fall from your body. The tentacles of knives glided across your skin almost tenderly, continuing their work diligently until you found yourself completely naked in Nai's bed, your clothing nothing more than strips of fabric now.

"Worry not, pet. You'll get new clothes," Nai spoke quietly, his eyes eagerly taking in your naked form.

Nai could feel himself getting riled up the moment he laid eyes on your bare skin, his cock hardening beneath his robe as he took in every part of you. You were beautiful, he supposed, for a human.

As he gazed at you, Nai couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like for him to finally take you, to stake him claim on you and to feel you around him for the first time. Of course, he'd never let you know that he'd never done any of this before, instead maintaining his façade of cool indifference and superiority, as if he'd done this so many times that it almost bored him.

Reaching out towards you, Nai pulled you back on top of him, his robe dissipating and allowing you to finally see him, his cock rock hard and throbbing, a glob of pre-cum leaking from the tip. You could see that the same plant markings that sprawled across the rest of his body were also on the shaft of his cock, as well as his tip. Just the sight of him, laid out before and below you like this and clearly wanting you, had your pussy dripping wet. You couldn't believe just how badly you wanted him inside you.

"Well? Go on, pet," Nai commanded, watching you carefully, "Please me."

"Yes, Nai."

You couldn't believe this was happening, but you found yourself feeling excited by the fact that you actually got the opportunity to sleep with Nai. As much as you wished that it could've been more than just sex, you were happy to have this, at the very least.

Slowly, you settled yourself in his lap, your hand wrapping gently around his cock and aligning him with your pussy, letting the tip just barely rest against your entrance. You were surprised to hear Nai hiss as soon as you took hold of him, feeling his body tense and feeling something warm and wet dribbling over your fingers.

"A-Are you okay?" You asked softly, looking at Nai with slight concern, hoping you hadn't hurt him or made him uncomfortable.

"Fine," Nai gritted out, "Don't question me. Remember your place, pet."

Then, suddenly, you felt Nai's hands tighten on your hips, grabbing onto you firmly before pushing you down onto his cock hard.

You let out a cry at the sudden stretch, your pussy stinging at the feeling of being split open so deeply for the first time in a long while, trying to adjust to the feeling of Nai inside you. With him sheathed inside you, you could feel just how big he was - even without moving, he was pressing against the most perfect spot inside you, pulling a whine from your lips.

"Quiet, slut," Nai growled, his hold on your hips bruising your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh.

What you didn't know was that Nai was struggling worse than you were at the moment - he'd never felt such warmth and tightness before, especially not around his cock, and he was trying so hard not to cum then and there. He hadn't expected you to feel so good around him, or for his body to be this sensitive.

However, as he held you against him, you let out a soft whine of pleasure and began to roll your hips desperately, pushing him just the slightest bit deeper into you. Nai's grip tightened on you, and he was about to growl out another command when his orgasm suddenly washed over him.

A choked "Fuck!" slipped from his lips as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into you, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into you even more than before as his seed coated your walls, painting them in white and claiming you as his in a way nobody ever really had before. You let out a moan and clutched onto Nai's shoulders as you felt the warmth spreading within your abdomen, and you couldn't help but continue to roll your hips as you chased your own release, wanting to feel more of Nai inside you.

"N-Nai, please," you whined, continuing to thrust your hips against him, "Want more... need more of you... please..."

Hearing you plead for him, for his cock, to give you pleasure made something in Nai snap.

In a flash, you found yourself laying back in the bed with Nai above you, his cock still buried inside you and still hard as ever. However, now, you could see a fire in his eyes as he gazed at you, his hand coming up and squeezing your breast. The mewl that came from you as Nai touched you made him feel more powerful than ever before, his instincts beginning to take over.

Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours hungrily, Nai began to thrust into you with urgency, his thrusts powerful and deep, pulling moan after moan from you as he continued to fuck you into his bed. He couldn't care less that this was his first time - nothing else mattered right now except for cumming inside you over and over again until you knew nothing but his name and that you belonged to him. He allowed his instincts to take over, the instinct to claim, to mate, to breed, to fill you up until it spilled from you endlessly.

"You're mine, slut. You hear me? Mine."

The growl that came from Nai made your whole body shiver, and the way he sunk his teeth into your neck and left a dark bruise to show that fact to the world made you scream out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. You were his now, and nobody else would ever have you.

"Say it!" Nai commanded, thrusting into you harshly without stopping. "Say-" thrust "you-" thrust "are-" thrust "mine!".

"Y-Yours!" You cried out, feeling your own orgasm wash over you stronger than ever before as Nai continued to fuck you through it, "'M yours, Nai!"

"Mine!"

Nai slammed his cock into you one final time as he came yet again, filling you to the brim with cum once more. As he recovered from his orgasm, Nai continued to leave marks down your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, working his way down until he was ready to go again, wanting nothing more than to continue this until he could no longer stand it.

"Prepare yourself, (Y/N)," Nai growled into your ear, pulling your body against his hard, "You're to stay with me all night. And I'm nowhere near done."

[youronlydarlin]

I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.

Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim

warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)

Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.

He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.

On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.

Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.

a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Guys I’m thinking about Rick and Daryl fighting, like Daryl is definitely a professional little brother and spends all day wrecking havoc upon Rick (and maybe a few others)

also I know Daryl is a hardcore hair puller. In the bed and in fights. When he and Merle would fight, it was like a second nature for his hands to latch onto to curly hair, yanking the strands and on one occasion knocking his head into a wall

me when rickyl but also brotherhood

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

On the outside, Daryl Dixon was quiet, dark, and mysterious. He was a dusty book that had been closed and locked tight for decades, never opening up no matter who or what tried to pry. Most people would think that he was just one of the ones that never expressed any type of concern or emotion, but really, Daryl’s just a silent person. Until someone he knows pops into the picture.

“Get tha’ fuck off me! Get tha’ fuck off of me!” His voice rang out through the community alongside side Dogs chaotic barking.

People rushed out of their homes at what they thought were very distressed cries, Carol’s bow loaded and almost aimmed as he stepped out onto hers, only frowning deeply when she saw what all the ruckus was.

Daryl and Rick were wrestling in the dirt, the huntersman pinned down underneath the officer in a very uncomfortable looking position. Dog was barking at the two of them, tail wagging in the air as he stood in a playful position, standing over his defeated owner.

“Blah blah blah. You’re just a sore fucking loser” Rick laughed at him, pointing a finger in Daryl’s face, and pulling it away when his sharp teeth clamped down. “Gon’ make mah dog eat you alive” The man grumbled and squirmed.

“Gonna make the walkers eat you both alive” You sighed from where you had approached behind Rick, Dog now eagerly lapping and jumping around you as you too stood over your defeated hunter. “Seriously?” You shook your head and pushed Rick off the man, watching the way he dramatically fell over. “He started it! I was bein’ nice” Daryl frowns, and so does Rick, sitting up to face Daryl who had childishly wrapped himself around your leg. “Nuh uh, no! This asshole tried sticking mud down my pants!” Daryl cackled at the sentence and you knew he was gulity.

“You two are grown ass men” You huffed, shaking your leg slightly only for Daryl’s to tighten his grip. Absolutely wonderful.

“He needs to be put in time out” Rick grumbled, and you wondered if you were getting paid for this. “Time out?”

“Time out?” Carol approached, bow and arrow no longer in hand.

Daryl pointed at Rick, while Rick pointed at him, both men staring daggers at each other. “Him! He fucking started this!”

You share a look with Carol as the men bicker, and it’s quite funny untill you feel a sudden emptiness at your leg, and Daryl is hurling a ball of mud at Rick, who unfortunately catches it with his face. “Now I can really call ya ‘shitface grimes’” Daryl laughed as he climbed to his feet, standing behind you as Rick wiped his eyes clear, immediately locking them on his target.

Daryl doesn’t wanna admit that he didn’t think Rick would just go right around you, yelling when the officer took a swipe at him. “Stop it yew shit eater!” Daryl ran away with Rick hot on his heels, Dog sprinting right alongside them and barking excitedly.

“Can you imagine a small mini version of all that?” You shake your head, smiling softly at Carol. “You have got quite the character on your hands. Clinging to your leg? He must love you” You laughed, peering up the street where they had run off too, a cloud of dirt forming as they tussled, and from Daryl’s very loud screams he was probably getting what he deserved. “Dealing with him? He better love me” You scoff, knowing that your giant manchild loves you more than life itself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Each press of the cotton to his skin makes him hiss, and he winces at the burning sting of alcohol. “No more fights” You frown softly, tilting Daryl’s head as you cleaned his wounds, gingerly placing bandaids over them. “But he-“ “Yes I know he started it, he also finished it” Daryl pouts, legs swinging off the countertop. You stick a bandage over his nose, and kiss his forehead. “All better. I want you in this house before it’s too dark, okay?” Daryl drops onto his feet, and plants a quick but eager kiss on your lips. “Yes mama” He tosses over his shoulder as he snatches his crossbow off the floor, barreling out the door with Dog. You watched them go, a smile tugging your lips. It faded at the sound of a Rick’s high pitched scream.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

looks around because I dont know what happened and because I really like childish Daryl now and wanna write more

[zmbiesuga]

I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?

JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader

sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?

warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'

notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3

Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.

When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.

It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.

But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.

And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.

Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?

When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.

"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."

"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."

"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."

"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."

After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

Kuroo could have sworn it was real.

The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.

It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.

Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.

Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.

He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.

Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.

When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.

"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"

You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.

"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."

You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.

"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.

You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —

All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.

"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."

He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.

[tomezatos]

so like basically in the REIGEN manga tome tries so desperately to throw herself into the center of this literal Superhuman world she sees and play the role of the eager young protagonist and its so endearing but in the end reigen has to come clean and she can’t keep using the spiritual premise as a crutch. not because she was wrong to have her whimsical interests, but because the fantasy of specialness can often be an escape from the isolation a person feels due to being unable to live up to societal ideals of normalcy, and yet in the end the fantasy can itself end up feeding directly into the isolation by obscuring your view of the other people in your life. you cannot prioritize the idea of being unique or special alone and that is the reason that the power structures in the story (as represented by roshuuto in REIGEN) so frequently fail short; because actually EVERYONE is a Pathetic Freak Weirdo Nerd Loser, from the handsome, popular rich boy, to the pretentious Dark!Reigen foil who takes himself too seriously, to all of the mundane teenage girls who the audience is initially tricked into dismissing as shallow, but also by the same token EVERYONE deserves to be loved and feel supported. 

because actually bonds with other people are the most important thing, and centrally this is also why REIGEN relies so heavily on bonds with others as something to create horror. the evil spirit mimics the voices of the ones you love and lures you in and when you’re at your most lost and scared and in need, that’s when you turn around and the face of the person you trust betrays you. tome only contracts the fatal curse in the first place because she cared about reigen and went back to make amends with him. because that’s the most horrifying, most terrifying thing, the thing that renders you absolutely helpless, isn’t it? it’s letting yourself rely on others and trust them to the point that it leaves you vulnerable, isn’t it? but you have to do it, if you want to achieve true connection then you can’t continue keeping up a veneer of Specialness and posturing as someone you’re not no matter how afraid you are of being seen as your true self. that’s the idea that really connects tome and reigen above all else. you have to be who you really are and you have to trust that you’ll be loved for it. and that’s horrifying! that’s an unimaginable, Forbidden terror! but it’s necessary. 

and also I think it’s so clever how REIGEN conveys this by only bringing in shigeo kageyama, the protagonist and most recognizable character who the reader has so many preconceived notions of, in at the last moment as a terrifying ghost who is impersonating him. I mean also it’s partially because shigeo can easily be made to look scary lol, because let’s be real, he can be pretty goddamn scary /hj BUT MOSTLY it’s to have him in his uniform, in his most recognizable and iconic form that the reader will cling to, and then have it be blown away by the post-canon shigeo, the real shigeo, the shigeo who has grown and changed and is no longer stuck in the role he once was. because to be vulnerable with others you have to grow and change and do away with old pretenses and dynamics that you’ve become dependent on. it can be scary to stop playing roles after you’ve grown use to them for so long, but you don’t need them - your most honest self will be the most loved. and also I love how just like tome could tell that it was the real reigen bcause he immediately ran into a spiderweb and yelled, you can tell that it’s the real shigeo because he’s immediately rude as fuck and he and reigen literally instantly go into their mean pithy little affectionate banter lol ok sorry anyway.

and also because you cannot really be any more or less special than anyone else and you need bonds with others, it’s true both that you have to rely on other people, but also that you owe it to them to be kind. reigen is literally a normal person working in the spirit business, so he has to rely on other people with the necessary abilities, such as dimple the spirit and serizawa the psychic, yes, but he also does his part to take care of the people who matter to him. roshuuto is so focused on appearances and power - as shown by how he goes on and on about connections - but when it comes down to it, he was not willing to save others (leaving hoshido in Reliance), and so nobody bothered trying to save him in turn. he only abandoned, and was abandoned. this is shown most acutely in the end by how roshuuto “has no other option” but to pass his curse on to someone else to save himself, while reigen “has no other option” to take on a curse to save someone else. reigen and serizawa accepting their responsibility as adults to protect the children around them is an extension of the idea that you are equal to everyone and are obligated to be kind to your loved ones and recieve kindness in turn. anyway mutual trust and communication is all that matters and tome kurata is The protagonist of all time Sorry,

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 41-46 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Get comfy and reread with me the finale of the Il Mheg arc and the intro of a certain loser.

First off, I wanna emphasize how important this arc’s for Vivi. Had he not liked Il Mheg in general and Feo Ul in particular, the rest of the story would play out very differently, and not in favor of the sundered. His initial positive impression of the First is pretty much the only thing that saves it.

We've reached a high, physically and emotionally. You know what that means, as per the shb rollercoaster rule :>

Pan pride pixie blesses Thancred, ca. 2024, colorized. I accidentally gave them the pan colors but hey it works. ALSO! Stars in his eyes.

Re: distant nightmare, I’ll let you in on a secret, or a third party perspective if you will. Vivi's full of shit, he's too focused on the big picture. He’s narrating this whole story, but his perspective is, well, just that.

Initially this was Vivi's inner monologue, then I thought that I should just let them talk, and it wrote itself.

More under the cut~

Drawing a buncha vivi-lookalikes that act soooooorta but not really like him, just slightly off, was a surprisingly fun exercise.

Luckily for Thancred, though, he sniffs out the pixie magic, and knows better than indulging them.

...Still, what a shitty fucked up day. Sorry, Thancred :’>

This here’s an example of a moment where I’m uncertain if I’m being too subtle and if this flies over some readers’ heads. He refers to Alisaie’s “job” of dragging Vivi back to msq, which she recently started lowkey dreading (episodes 32-33)

...Though she goes back to her “duty” in episode 43.

She's pointedly SILENT throughout the episode, doing her best to hold back.

Thancred's a man who can say no to begging dogs.

Gridania mention! Vivi’s gridanian! He never speaks ill of the elementals, he's wary of them even a world apart.

This pixie's life is something Feo Ul's willing to sacrifice. Episodes 42-43 tell this story in reverse order, yes this’s the pixie that was supposed to agree with Thancred and go with the Scions to the Crystarium.

As to why there’s a dozen of vivis popping up as a backup: they needed just one fake Vivi to go with the Scions, but try organizing the pixies. Their plan’s already failed when this first pixie-Vivi refused to play their part.

“Yeah no, our guy’s special, but not as special as to explode in confetti”

I love his first ingame appearance in that Varis cutscene, this moment has similar energy: barely enters the stage, instantly gets impaled on a long object. This’s not foreshadowing, no, why would you think that-

The “camera” is perfectly still, there’s even some symmetry, demonstrating how calm and prepared Emet is. He didn’t expect much and he’s still disappointed.

This’s a super old comic. I spent the first half of 2022 testing and trying to find a style for Fragments, back then I had no plans, none, zero, absolutely no interest to give Emet a role bigger than a mention. The earliest version of the script had very few Emet scenes, which, looking back on it, was gonna be a disservice to his character. Well, that changed rapidly in late 2023 when I fell for him so hard that I broke my neck, and now I look back on a lot of what I did with Vivi with new eyes. THE EYEROLL. After spending two years developing a guy for a fun wolgraha chemistry (at the same time I was perfectly aware that Exarch and Emet are foils. I made a foil for Exarch, what on earth did I expect-), I’m going through a mindblow after mindblow as I realize HOW GOOD VIVI IS FOR EMET (and vice versa ofc) and how many things they have in common. This wasn’t always the case, Vivi just gradually got more cynical, tired, ✨grey✨ and everything else that makes a guy consider hitting it with The Other Old Man.

They’re off to a great start.

From Emet’s pov, this must really hurt, as in how many other shards of Azem might’ve snarled at him like this. Even though he must be numb to it by now, who says that there isn’t the tiniest flicker of hope when he approaches yet another not-Azem. He may deny and hate and try to snuff out that spark, but the fatal Soulmate Magnet keeps doing its thing.

Parallels to episode 2.

Apparently, Vivi’s first reaction to encountering his to-be-most-prominent boyfriends is to attack them somehow.

This’s really, REALLY dumb of him, and he even comments on it shortly after. But yes, his isekai tale in the First was rather pleasant just until now, and it lulled him into the false sense of security. OF COURSE there are ascians everywhere, not just on the Source. Vivi just forgor.

Emet tests Vivi's reactions to insults/being treated as a lesser, silliness, flirt.

I regret to inform you that both Vivi and Alisaie have been disarmed so easily. The tone quickly shifts, the weapon’s lowered.

Alisaie makes bad puns/jokes in canon, I thought it'd fit if she laughed at that kinda jokes too, and in the least fitting situations, to top it off. Alphinaud’s disappointed, even if he can hardly be called an expert in humor.

“It’s up to you”. Emet stops fooling around, assuming a more serious tone. He may not respect Vivi or his agency here, but he provides him with a choice that's guaranteed to give him some trust points, and uses "we" for an illusion of unity/equality, a not really subtle nudge towards cooperation, it's not me vs you anymore, it's "us".

Whether Vivi picks up on the manipulation or not remains to be seen, but Emet gets his way here.

Forgive me this lil tangent, but I’m so giddy and excited to write Emet. If Exarch’s decently emotionally intelligent but still obtuse at times, Vivi’s a tier or two above him, he’s not a stranger to manipulation, he registers it being used on him, and doesn’t hesitate to use it too when it suits his fancy. He's quite good at people-ing. Emet, though, Emet’s THE emotional intelligence personified. He’s had literal thousands of years to practice, he leaves everyone else in the dust in this regard. It’s daunting but so exciting to write him, I hope to do him justice.

Let’s just talk.

𝓛𝓮𝓽’𝓼 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴.

Mark this moment, remember this line for meme value. If these last words aren't famous yet, they WILL become that when we see what they talk their way into <w<

Yes I'm going all in on tragic irony of Emet's situation.

Accidental Emet rp, with the hunching over and all. Or maybe Vivi already unwittingly mirrors him. Or maybe he always did- *kicked and dumped in the trash bin*

Man. I'm guilty of enjoying drawing Vivi in genuine distress. He’s so fun when he’s agitated.

Hidden Angst Time! It's all hehe haha until you realize that this might be a product of the hectic wol lifestyle forcing him to speedrun his emotions like this. Either speedrun, or be left with no opportunity to process them at all.

Also, the sandwiches! The framing’s deliberate, they’re on the foreground all the time, and Vivi only notices them in the very last panel.

I! Love! This! Face!!!!!! A rare neutral, relaxed, thoughtful face, he isn't performing for anyone here.

Nevermind Ardbert getting brutally ignored here x’D

The fact that a guy that Vivi had briefly considered as partner material shut himself away in the Crystal Tower for what could be the rest of his life has stuck with Vivi for good. Or should I say for bad. He might not necessarily care about ARRRaha, still it upsets him that he kissed someone who practically killed himself some days later.

I recently talked a lil more about the Bitchless Liar. This’s how Vivi remembers him forever, take it or leave it. But hey, this cool Exarch guy has big balls probably <- in-universe hc \o/

This episode taught me to draw BREAD.

Even though Exarch’s been nothing but sweet so far, one thing’s to acknowledge a fact with your brain, another thing’s to wrestle with your trauma and paranoia that have all rights to exist and fester. Ever since HW Vivi doesn’t accept food and drinks from anyone except the few trusted sources. This isn’t really covered in this episode, but hopefully hinted at just enough.

He takes a leap of faith. Or maybe he’s simply sick and tired of living Like This. Maybe sandwiches kill him, and he doesn’t really mind. And, when they don’t, he goes through a visible shift in attitude towards Exarch, as we’re able to see in the following episodes.

This’s all I’ve got for now, thanks for reading till the end~

[fedcrypt]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

intended eddie brock / venom x female!reader

WRITING WARNINGS: okie so this is kinda like an au in a way, it’s a secret pre-established poly relationship, also reader is colton drake’s sister (adoptive, biological, or married-in your choice!) so like colton isn’t super approving of his sister having a relationship with someone.

XOXO, MAMA LU — this is so utterly disgustingly cutely based off sabrina’s new song with our favorite loser and our precious symbiote baby <3! so eddie and venom aren’t in this fic but they are both mentioned and it’s kind of just the reader existing with the family dynamic and hearing about her boys.

her (e/c) eyes rolled softly as she listened to the rambling of her brother as she peered down at the symbiote in the tube feeling utterly devasted for the poor creature. y/n knew what it was like to be trapped in a tube and feeling hopeless with the liquid nutrition being the only thing keeping you alive, at least she knew from venom, whom had ranted to her one night all about it in order to get her to stay away from her brother. her boyfriend and the symbiote had tried their hardest to take down her brother and his organization, yet they had failed, and colton wasn’t all that pleased with them. in fact, colton drake wished to hunt them down and find them yet he found that simply impossible. unbeknownst to colton, his own sister was the mere reason why he couldn’t find them.

y/n was the only person who had approved of her own choice to fall in love with eddie brock and by extension venom as well, at least that is what she believed as whenever she would drop hints about her secret pair of boyfriends without revealing too much information ; everyone seemed to verbally bash her for falling in love, claiming she was too childish as she fell in love with more than one person. they deemed their relationship as wrong and an act of unfaithful nature but y/n knew better than to listen to all those vipers depressed in empath clothing.

the (h/c) haired woman deeply sighed to herself as she heard her brother changing the conversation about his company to the fact that she wasn’t listening to him. in fact colton had claimed that his sister was too busy thinking about her secretive boyfriend instead of listening to his plan to save all of mankind from the destruction of earth itself. (e/c) eyes lightened up as their owner had smiled softly at the symbiote who had made a gesture inside of the tube, one of which essentially called her brother an annoying loser, causing her to wholeheartedly agree even if she didn’t admit it out loud.

“yet not to mention eddie brock stealing venom from me and you still don’t care about it. it doesn’t affect you and yet this is our livelihood, my dear sister, and yet you don’t cherish or show any interest in it!” there he goes again, back on his stupid bullshit verbal rampage about his mankind project. “you say livelihood as if i don’t have my dream job that i love and have enough money to get by on my own plus get other oddities.” y/n bit back as she stretched her back out, having been uncomfortable in the position she had been slightly hunched over in.

“don’t get cocky now, y/n, just be a good sister and listen. i’ve taken care of you my entire life and you don’t get to cheapen that, okay?” colton explained as he placed a gentle hand upon his sister’s cheek, trying to be sympathetic as he assumed she was only fighting back with her words due to being drained from her dream job that she’s talked about since childhood. “oh fuck off, colton.” the woman replied forcibly taking her brother’s hand away from her face and then waved her goodbyes to the symbiote in the tube before she walked out of the lab, her brother’s voice raising with each step she took.

nearly a half an hour later, luckily having gotten through the lots of traffic faster than anticipated, she had found herself inside of the convenience store where mrs. chen worked during the night. a simple “oh sweetheart, there you are!” had rung out with perfect timing of the bell as she stepped inside, mrs. chen had greeted her inside with a sense of relief. “now why do i sense some relief in that mrs. c?” the (h/c) haired woman questioned as she moved to grab some of her favorite snacks that she would share with venom and eddie once she got home. all she could affectionately think of was, please please please don’t embarrass me motherfucker, as she awaited the words that her dear older friend would say which more than likely had something to do with her boyfriends.

the older dark haired woman chuckled softly as y/n made her way up to the counter with all her snacks. “oh no worries sweetheart, the two idiots were just going on and on about how they love you. i’m guessing there might be a ring in your future from the sounds of it.” mrs. chen explained as she finished ringing up the snacks and placed them in a bag. the (h/c) haired woman shook her head affectionately at the woman’s words knowing that they didn’t need a ring to be married, in fact the three of them already considered themselves married, but she knew the woman would still lovingly pester them about it. “i’ll see you later, m��ma.” y/n chuckled softly as she saw the woman pause at the loving nickname as she grabbed her bag and placed a twenty upon the counter, ready to leave and head home to her beloveds.

[daydream-believin]

Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]

notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)

series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.

or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.

chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao

word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)

warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty

You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.

Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.

Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.

And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.

On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.

“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.

Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?

Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.

***

The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.

The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.

There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.

That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.

 I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.

You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.

The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.

You took another look back at the table as you walked away.

Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?

Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.

A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.

That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.

“You like that one, do ya?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.

“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”

“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter..  liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”

The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.

“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.

“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”

Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.

So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.

You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.

It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.

Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.

Deeply afraid.

Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.

You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.

Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.

***

Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.

You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.

“zZz-Hurricane—“

Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.

“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.

And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,

“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”

You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.

You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.

I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?

Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.

Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.

You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.

The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.

You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.

Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.

That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.

***

Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.

The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.

“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.

Well, guess you’re holding on a second.

Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.

That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.

After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.

“Table for two?”

You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.

“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”

Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”

She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.

She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.

The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”

That... wasn’t your concern.

You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.

You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.

Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.

But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.

You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.

That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.

“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”

“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”

“In Utah?”

Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.

“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”

After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.

Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.

You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.

Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.

You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.

So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.

You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.

Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.

***

You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.

Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.

“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.

You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.

“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.

Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…

Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.

Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.

“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”

Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.

If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.

“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”

When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??

Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?

The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.

Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.

You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.

“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”

He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.

“…435-555-1987?”

You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.

Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.

You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.

“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?

“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.

“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.

It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.

“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”

You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”

“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”

You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”

you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.

“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”

“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”

… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.

“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”

“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”

“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.

“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”

“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”

You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.

“Do you know where you live?”

He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”

Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.

“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”

“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.

“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.

After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.

Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.

The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.

God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—

Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.

“I’m sorry about that,”

“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.

“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.

He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.

“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.

“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.

“Nah, that’s it” you were too nauseous to eat right now.

You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you.  The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.

“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.

She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”

You furiously nodded in confusion,

“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”

You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.

You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.

And.

Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.

You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.

Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.

You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.

As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.

You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.

Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.

God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.

There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.

Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.

You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.

Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.

You had to get rid of that bear.

***

You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.

You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.

A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.

God, you wished you could just skip town.

You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.

You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.

Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?

If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.

In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.

Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...

The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.

You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.

The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.

But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.

You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.

As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.

“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.

The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:

A drone shot of Zion national park

Old men golfing

Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses

Rock archways

A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,

“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.

Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool

A Navajo cultural event

More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs

Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you

Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played

Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…

The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”

Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.

***

Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.

Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.

There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.

It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!

***

Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.

But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.

The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.

You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.

You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.

What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.

You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.

You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.

***

Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.

If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.

You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.

Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.

The door was locked.

You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.

He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.

Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.

Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.

“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,

It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”

How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.

“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.

“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”

“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”

“Jesus Christ! WHY.”

Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.

“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”

“I really don’t have any money to spar--”

“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.

A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.

“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”

He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”

“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”

“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.

 You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,

“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”

“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)

The door slammed in your face.

Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.

Okay.

Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.

Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.

Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Ben 10 rewrite-fix-selfship thangs by me and my little sister @mayameanderings we did agesssss ago but am only posting now since my friend @franollie is re-entering the fandom!

My s/i's name is Solana Cristalina!!!He's half Petrosapien,half (afro-dominican) human,transmasc genderfluid and bigender,audhd,super bubbly,chaotic,physically incapable of not running his mouth,a pastel punk femme,a mom friend and has a mean streak that's mostly funny but sometimes angsty or played for coolness against villains!His design is meant to look like a half white black person because that's what i am but since he's made of crystals,his colors reflect the primary light of whatever scene he's in(Hobie Brown moment).His eyes glow in the dark and he's strange looking but not enough to not pass as human!

His dad,Diarius,raised him on Petropia for the first 5 years of his life but decided Earth was safer for him and so he started being raised by his mom,Mariana.He had his own special debut episode in Classic called 'Crystal up,Sunshine' and Mariana is a Bruja who mentored Lucky Girl!Gwen on her and her son and daughter's summer jewel collection travels after Solana had his adventure with Ben and Gwen and became basically like siblings with them even though he was only in a few episodes for that run.Him and Kevin met the same year but at their school where Solana was a Special ED kid and Kevin was in a club/support group for troubled kids.He sat in front of Kevin and he was like 'This shiny kid is gonna blind me' which led to them talking and Solana was like 'His edge is going to cut me' /irony.They befriended eachother nonetheless before Kevin dropped out as he's implied to be homeless in canon and Solana was upset since he was his only friend but they reunite in the show itself with the exact quote 'Holy shit,edgy kid!!!' and 'Holy smokes,shiny kid!!!' but it dosen't end well just yet since Kevin was an antagonist at the time

Kevin is black monoracial but mixed etchnicity-His mom is mexican and Devin's american.He was taught to seperate his blackness from his latinohood and he grew up disconnected to his blackness due to almost no other black people around and becoming best friends with Solana was the start of healing journey og embracing his afrolatino identity.He participates in both black latino and black american culture since he's half both!!He used to feel guilty about falling under stereotypes but now sticks it to racists by being way better than them and loves himself for who he is!He has fang grills by Omniverse and his redemption arc in Alien Force isn't relient on romance despite Kelana being a big part of it

The Tennysons are white latinos with Abuelo Max being an argentinian inmigrant based purely on vibes and Verdona was latina too(poc swag transcends solar systems.Next question‼️).Gwen is a lesbian and dating Kai,Julie,Ester and Charmcaster and the last one was her first love and there was so much unnecessary gay drama that could've easily been avoided if Gwen wasn't such a loser when it comes to romance and her and Ben's character development sticks instead of keeping them static characters for the sake of unfunny comedy.Ben and Rook's obviously a thing as a plot that's not really a plot twist since their dynamic is the same as in canon but intentionally romantic

Kai is recurring in Alien Force and respectfully written as navajo instead of only existing for Ben and having a fucking feather in her hair and is an official member of Team 10,as is Julie who's also not a Ben love interest but a girlgeek that has a sibling-like relathionship with him and has Ship pre-debut as she gets her own special like Solana that dives into her backstory.Ester's way more prominent too and yet another member and has quiet bpd due to childhood trauma but is helped with it by her friends and girlfriends

The last additions to complete Team 10 to make it fit it's namesake are Charmcaster,Albedo and Alan.Hope is still technically a villain but a dear friend to everyone on the gang who regularly spends time with them and helps on missions,Albedo got a fullon redemption arc and Alan was pretty much adopted/taken in by everyone since he dosen't have parents

They're also all trans and autistic

Solana and Ben are a 'i'm mean to you because i love you' typa beat,Solana and Gwen are soul sisters who bond over everything and on the same level to eachother as him and Kevin are and Kelana in Classic was Kevin actively trying to make Solana worse but Solana is such a nice person that it dosen't work,in Alien Force they get to be proper longterm friends with crushes undertones and in Omniverse they basically act like they're dating already but are still complete oblivious.They develop all throught the franchise and don't get together until the final series:Ben 10 Forever

Ben 10 Forever takes place in Ben's young adult years and is a darker,more complex story to reflect it.This includes Solana dying when he saved Diarus' life in a battle in episode 1 but being ressurected with Petrosapien resources and having trauma from it and Diarus has survivor's guilt.He was always afraid something would happen because he just dosen't trust most human's and blames himself moreso because he feels he should've been there full time,even though he wasn't neglectful and visited all the time with him and Mariana just being long distance

Kevin having mimic powers and Solana being crystalline=They're a reflection of eachother

Mr Smoothie is Team 10's hangout and Solana has a job at a thrift store and convinced Ben to be hired alongside him

[duskier]

We all know and love ex boyfriend Simon who just can't accept that you're broken up, now hear me out- that trope but the reader is just as toxic.

cw sadistic/mean reader, cheating, reader/nameless character smut but no reader/Ghost smut, brief mention of violence against Ghost but its like two lines

Maybe you're a military member yourself in a different squad, traveling about the world and kicking ass on your own. Love yourself a good fling here and there, you hate being tied down. Nothing worse than someone clingy, attached, at home expecting something from you after a long day when all you want to do during leave is drink and sleep and take long hot showers.

But something about Simon wriggled itself in the back of your mind long ago, growing worse ever since he had the nerve to deny your break up speech. You can't get him out of there, as much as you try. Makes you fucking hate him, makes anger roll in your stomach at the mere thought of him. Smelling someone smoking the same brand of cigarettes as him alone has you on edge.

You want to beat the audacity out of him, get him on the ground and make him fucking apologize for living inside your head like he belonged there. You touch yourself thinking about him sobbing, speech slurred by how swollen his bleeding lips are as he begs for you. You cum thinking about using him as a toy- he is a toy, nothing more, he couldn't be anything more, you dumped him after all--

You decide to punish him. Every hookup you have, you start showing Simon proof- the only texts you ever send to him, his normal polite messages ignored. He decides you're still dating? Bet seeing you cheat would rile him up then, maybe make him finally get sick of you and fuck off- both in your head and in real life. It started off simple, bite marks and hickeys right where Simon knows you like it, courtesy of a gentleman in Tokyo. Next, just a sliver of skin around your hips, nothing explicit he could get off to but enough for Simon to see the finger shaped bruises in your soft skin, left by a gorgeous woman who's perfume permeated your hotel for days after. Next time you're less kind, a photo taken in the mirror of your legs spread open, pussy glistening and dripping with some stranger's cum. That one had Simon trying to call you seconds after the little 'read' notification popped up and you couldn't help but laugh as you let it ring. Even when you were together you had never let Simon do that to you.

When even the photos got boring to you, and they still didn't stop Simon from sending you sappy photos and texts (who still sends good morning texts? Are we in high school? Grow up,) you decided to escalate again. Your newest hookup was enthusiastic about the idea when you presented it to him, and he proudly took a video from his point of view while fucking you from the back. You didn't force any noises, this guy was good enough to have you sounding like a whore on his own. You wouldn't remember his name to save your life, but you'd never forget his dick.

"F-f-fuck, that's it baby, so much better than-" Your own moan cut off your line, you'd planned to say it specifically because you wanted it to hurt but just the thought of how it would really tear Simon open had you clenching down harder on your partner's cock. Fucking thing was splitting you open, wet slapping noises echoing in the hotel room you'd booked for the night.

Surprise overtook you as your partner grabbed you by the throat with his spare hand, his thumb forcing you to crane your neck awkwardly to the side. Better view for the camera, sick bastard.

"Better than who, doll? C'mon, say it nice and loud for the camera now."

"Christ, fuck, so much better than Simon! Fucking l-loser can't even get it through his head I dumped him six months ago- ohh don't stop I'm so fuckin close--"

-and your partner cuts the video off there, dropping your phone to the mattress in favor of gripping both hands on your hips, fingertips digging in for purchase as he picks up his pace. You gleefully snatch the phone, your text to Simon undoubtedly filled with typos from how hard you were being pounded.

"Can't even wait to send it? Fucking slut."

A keening sound came from your throat as you watched the video's upload progression bar. "Just shut up and keep going, ahh- still so close--"

[cocoacat323]

Naruto Fic Recs

Since so many people liked my svsss rec list I thought I might do one for Naruto, warning all of these are either sasuke-kakashi centric so if you don't like that I recommend you don't read this! Anywho!

heroes come back Summary: Sasuke Uchiha is reborn as Timothy Drake

With Friends Like These Summary:

“I’m from the future—seven years in the future.” There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Itachi’s face is unreadable as he stares at Sasuke. “You’re what?” he finally says.

Sasuke travels back in time to stop the war. He infiltrates the Akatsuki in order to kill them - he doesn't expect to take a page out of Naruto's book and befriend them instead.

CCG Public Enemy No 1 Summary: Kakashi had a single red-and-black eye for more than half his life. Now, he has two.

twist 'verse Summary: Team Seven, in all its iterations, gets fucked over by whatever cosmic powers yet again and time travels/reincarnates/possesses bodies of the Founders. (Note: This is a series not a fic, but I thoroughly enjoyed it so it's making the list anyway.)

Frayed Truths 'verse Summary:

"What are you saying?" Kakashi demands, distress turning his tone harsh. "That you don't know when he'll wake up?" "I'm saying I don't know if he will."

When Itachi uses the Tsukuyomi on his brother that day in the hallway, he miscalculates. In the aftermath, Sakura and Naruto struggle with what it means to be a team and Kakashi sits by the bedside of a boy that might never wake.

A single misstep, and everything changes.

[NOW UNDERGOING EDITING]

(Note: This is also a series and not a fic, I'm sorry about that, but once again it's very good. The series itself has no summary so I went with the summary for the first fic in the series.)

How a Young Heart Really Feels Summary: It was absolutely the most devastating thing to ever happen to him in his six years of life. He knew Uchiha were supposed to love too deeply, but this was ridiculous! He was just a kid, for god's sake! He didn't want to be in love!

Or: Sasuke gets a crush and it messes with best laid plans.

Misrecognition Summary: During the fight on top of the hospital after Itachi's tsukuyomi Sasuke sees Naruto's rasengan and decides that was the final nail to hammer home his weakness, how he would never be able to become stronger than his brother. He was a loser, destined to fail, destined to die. So he might as well die now.

Sasuke tries to use Naruto's rasengan as a means to an end. Friend-killer Kakashi watches this.

Restore My Faith Summary: Sasuke was consumed with hatred because his family was killed. His entire family, not a single person left alive except him and their killer. It was enough to drive someone insane, or into the arms of the first maniac promising him enough power for revenge.

Instead Sasuke finds a little baby Uchiha on a meaningless mission and leaves Konoha for a vastly different reason. (Note: Very literally my favorite fic in the world, of you were to read any fic on this list I beg that it is this one.)

Never Trust Your Rinnegan (Tales of Sasuke's Travels) Summary: "Sasuke isn't in the Elemental Nations.

None of the Elemental Nations have buildings quite like this, people quite like this. Sure, Ame is weird, but this is really pushing it. These people don't have Chakra signatures, they shouldn’t be alive.

The Rinnegan has never teleported him somewhere he hasn’t already gone."

OR: Sasuke is transported to the world of BNHA and has a very hard time trying to get out.

Road to Nowhere Summary: Hitoshi knows there's something wrong with himself before he's even old enough to have a sense of self. He looks at his reflection and knows that the infant looking back at him isn't what he should be seeing.

His dreams are a maelstrom of grief and fear, his mind overwhelmed with a lifetime of emotions his brain isn't developed enough to comprehend. There's an ingrained instinct blaring that everything is wrong wrong wrong.

--

In which Hatake Kakashi is reincarnated as Shinsou Hitoshi, and he wants nothing to do with this world's so-called "heroes."

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) Summary: Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

[princelylove]

Dearest Prince,

Your La Squadra post is one of my favorites and it got me curious about some of the guys.

Ghiaccio is a name we barely see on your blog and I would love to know more about your interpretation of him. Whatever it is you got; from the regular facts to the complete degeneracy, I am interested in knowing.

Thank you for your time and interest, as well as your patience, I've been lacking in the "sending asks" department.

Heart heart xoxo

Oh, Ciocio. My favorite 4chan user. Sure.

Ghiaccio is one of those characters that, to me, are so established in my head that I feel as if I'm doing nothing by elaborating. It's very clear cut. Incel that actually goes to the gym and has a job, so he's automatically better than other forum users, yet he's not because he's always on there and is the first to make fun of 'the losers.'

Ghiaccio has a certain sense of superiority because he's not in that sort of Hazamada-ish porn addict incel category- yeah, he's a virgin in his middle-to-late twenties, and has basically no eye are el friends, but he's not a fucking degenerate. He's better. Yeah, he doesn't inherently see women as objects- it's just, uh, factual that they're only after... certain things.

Ghiaccio has a very complex relationship with women. They trigger his abandonment issues worse than any man could, even if all they're doing is acting indifferently. No matter what you do, you can't win. Play into it without trying? Tease. Don't play into it without trying? Prude. Bitch. Play into it on purpose? Whore. Don't play into it on purpose? You're playing hard to get. It's not like Ghiaccio actively thinks of women as lesser, or just less intelligent- obviously he doesn't think like that, intelligence has nothing to do with sex, jackass- it's just that those are the first words that pop into his head when he's angry and it seems like the one he has eyes for is leaving.

Always leaving. It's always something. He did something wrong again, and your stupid woman brain thought he'd just get it and would understand entirely when you didn't tell him what it was, and- He'll calm down eventually.

His relationship issues with women could stem from a lot of things. It could be his mother, the fact that he never had a long term relationship with a girl his age, the fact that he mainly consumes media (porn, or fetish content.) that objectifies them- any number of things could be it. His sexism actually isn't in the classic 'women are in their prime when they're younger' way, it's more of a 'women prefer older men because older men are real men' way. Which can get confusing at times, because he's the type to project heavily onto the women in his life, and he's not very good at explaining himself.

It's easier to ramble about a set topic with clear facts. It's objectively correct that Venesia- yeah, Venesia, say it in their fuckin' dialect you God damn [REDACTED. Reason for redaction: contains slur.]- is the actual name. Feelings aren't something you can fact check on a different tab.

It affects him more when a woman doesn't show interest in him. When a guy does it, it's like yeah, of course, fuckin' low value male would be jealous of him. Ghiaccio struggles with his self worth and meeting his own expectations. It's a lot of internalized loathing that presents itself as "Of course you're using me for dinner and want me to pay. You're trying to cuck me." Since Ghiaccio never really learned proper coping mechanisms, he usually just beats the shit out of whatever piece of furniture is closest to him. Goodbye, end table. It was nice knowing you.

Ghiaccio knows nothing of gentle love, but he knows he has to act right or his darling is going to freak out on him and give him a massive headache. He thinks he's above the guys that hit their bitch their partner, but he always manages to bruise them in some way, shape, or form. He has a bit of a problem with grabbing his darling too tightly and not easing up.

It's both a possessive thing and a complete accident. He just doesn't know what to do when you panic in front of him- holding you down works, usually? Yeah? Going for your throat should be fine, you can feel like you're secure in one spot, why the fuck are you hitting him now???? He's not going to seriously hit you, stop freaking out, holy shit. He's not a bad man that's planning on raping you or some shit, jesus christ, can you just calm down and think rationally?

When you actually calm down, likely after he gets pissed and fucks off for a while, he'll come back to check on you. He likes you. You should eat. He cut up some shit things for you. He just doesn't like when you're sobbing and assuming shit and acting hysterical.

He's really trying. He's really, really trying. It's hard to calm down and be the man his darling needs, but you keep saying such moronic shit- it's fine. It's fine. You're just a little stupid, he can work with that, if you start to listen to him.

Ghiaccio's good for hugs and that's about it. He won't let anything harm you. It's stupid to think that he'd just allow some other guy to touch you or speak to you enough to harm you. Come on, stop crying, he's right here, he can give you what you need to survive and be happy, he can be good to you if you don't piss him off intentionally. He can, and will. He's just frustrated right now.

The next day, when the bruises form. . . it's hard to hide how pleased he is. God, that's hot. Should give you more. What's a better way to get frustration out of his system?

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 5 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Grimbly (56.7%)

TW: Creepy one-sided mommy kink, later becomes mutual.

New choice! [VOTE]

When your leg lightly pokes the smaller monster, his previously cute expression morphs into a smarmy, gross smirk.

" Hah. Looks like you might wanna reconsider. " His hands are on his waist as he regards the wraith.

" Fool. They're not in the right mind to be making decisions. " The other counters.

" Mm. Cope harder. "

No matter how hard you try to keep your eyelids open, they flutter repeatedly, eventually shutting for good. Your consciousness fades on Morell's chopping table.

...

There's a chirp. Then another. You hear something rushing nearby. A liquid. The noise, paired with a slight chilly sensation, becomes uncomfortable, forcing you to gradually wake up.

Eyes eventually parting, the shapes of the revolving world finally begin to make sense, and you find yourself in a garden. Not just any garden, the same one where all this madness started. Alertness seeping back into your form, wary hues scatter until they find a fountain.. If you can call it that. Yes, it's not exactly standard. The thing takes on a strange, bent shape which seems to loop in itself like an optical illusion designed to confound the mind. Water rushes down its sides, then up, then diagonally- Like it's crawling around it, alive. You'd imagine this is what a being who has never seen a fountain in their life would make, putting aside the way this thing very clearly defies physics.

You've been around here for a while however, and as such, you know better than to question the logistics of this location. The how and why of this reality is irrelevant. Nevertheless, the sound of water cascading and dripping aimlessly is the least bit soothing to your overworked, stressed brain, so, with a quiet sigh, you glance at the flowers who have been chirping all this time- Swaying and twirling at each other as if to communicate. To think those things have teeth. That they bit you. Cursed garden indeed...

" It's beautiful in its own way, right? "

Your heart, that poor, miserable organ which has been tested thoroughly throughout this entire day, threatens to leap out your ribcage for what feels like the hundredth time.

" Geez silly, it's just me. "

Bulging eyeballs zero in on the monster sitting next to you. Grimbly... Ah yes! The one you picked, good. He's far too close, thigh brushing yours actually. How had you not noticed him before? Shortly after this initial observation, you realize you're on a bench, and a quick self-check reveals that you're wearing an entirely different get-up. In fact, you're clad in what looks to be a pastel pink Summer dress with subtle floral patterns. Huh. Well, you suppose it's better than torn, bloodied scraps?

The bat monster notes your disoriented staring and pipes up. " Ah, I hope you don't mind. It's just, you looked so bad in that trash, I found something much better for you. " Bright magenta hues almost seem to sparkle at you. " You love it, don't you? "

Yeah, sure. You love being minimally covered. Now that you think about it, he must have undressed and garbed you himself while you were out cold. Slimy fucker. Regardless, a free dress is a free dress, so you nod cautiously.

" Yay. I'm really glad, mommy! "

Fucking what now?

You give the monster a subtle side-glance. This is a grown adult. He may be small in stature but this is definitely an adult. There is no way in Heaven or Hell he's actually mistaking you for his mother, this is very clearly a "thing". A thing he's involved you in without asking. God damn it, and here you thought this one could be slightly more normal. Serves you right.

" Uhum. " Because what else are you supposed to say? That he's a creepy loser? So are the others. You can only hope that he's a less powerful creepy loser. Hell, if all he wants to do is pretend you're his "mommy" and have you pet his head, then you'll consider yourself very lucky.

Wary eyes glance around again. It's noon-ish? Indeed, between being inside, with all that ruckus and calamity, you much prefer this twisted garden. You can still hear people in the vicinity, but nowhere near the amount indoors. All the chattering, cackling and yelling was getting in your brain far before you were even handed to Morell like a tasty morsel. This... This is much better, it has saved you from a pounding headache, and your body is only somewhat sore. You must not have slept on this bench.

Hold on.

You're in the garden. And what a large garden it is- But that's hardly the point! What matters is that, if you can get this one off your hairs, you could maybe try to find a way out of here. After all, if you're fast enough, clever and quiet like a mouse, would it truly be impossible to just leave? There has to be an exit. Somewhere. For all intents and purposes, this is the closest you've been to freedom ever since being dumped here by the Icon of carnality. Yes... Good.

A small weight on top of your right hand jolts you. You didn't even realize you had them fisted around the hems of your dress until he gently grasped one. Forcing a deep breath out of your lungs, you meet his big, rounded eyes.

" I know your day has been tough so far. How are you feeling now? "

That calm breath was fruitless, for those words alone instill insurmountable tension within you. How dare he? How are you feeling?! Fucking hopeless, how about that! Tarnished. Frightened. Panicked. You want out. You just want out. You want to go home, you want to see your family and you want to pretend that none of this happened. That you weren't picked to be some appetizer, some distraction brought on by a demonlord.

Tears slide down your cheeks faster than you realize you're crying.

" Oh. Oh no, please don't cry mommy, I didn't mean to- I promise! "

Grimbly scoots even closer, smaller, four-fingered hands reaching for your cheeks and softly wiping away the waterworks. Although you freeze, expecting some sort of catch behind the act, he only spares you a soft smile. Before sitting sideways on your lap that is. Ugh.

" It's okay, you don't need to cry anymore. You have me now, after all. " The bat half-jokes, earning only a sniffle in return as you try to gather your bearings.

Shaky hands hover, having nowhere to poise, until the waiter rolls his bright eyes and grabs them, manually wrapping them around himself in a clumsy embrace. He's smooth, surprisingly soft. " We can talk about anything you want, okay? "

What is there to talk about, your cynical side snarks. Yet, if he's responsive to conversation, for whatever reason, then maybe you can make the most out of it.

" How many floors are there in this building? "

" It depends. " Grimbly shrugs. " Today there's extra ones, because we're kinda flooded with clients. I just hope they don't rush to the aquarium, serving there is no fun, everything's wet and slippery and I don't know how to swim. "

" Do you know how to swim, mommy? "

Your eyelid twitches. " ... Yes. "

The monster gasps. " Oh! Can you teach me someday? "

You don't even know if you'll make it past today. " Uh, sure. "

God, this is awkward.

The waiter purrs loudly, exactly like an overgrown kitten, as he dips his face into your chest, struggling with his own horns. " Thank you! " He's nuzzling, you can feel the pointed tips of those fangs dragging on your skin as he tries to shove his face on your tits. You've no doubt he picked a dress with significant cleavage for this very reason. You don't think too much of your chest, but he seems fixated on it nonetheless.

Silent, passive seconds pass. You're not too sure what you signed up for before passing out, though, thinking back on it, maybe you made the right choice? The mysterious figure in the hood was so ominous, at least this one seems way less intense. Clingy definitely, but way less intimidating.

" You're so nice... " The monster attempting to become one with your tits purrs in a saccharine tone.

" Am I? " A sort of corrosive dryness seeps from you. Your patience for games is dwindling.

" Yeah. You're not like the other ones. " Grimbly hugs you tight, sighing in a way that sounds much too infatuated while he adjusts his position on your lap, tail swatting behind his lithe figure. " You're not screaming, trying to run, or calling me names- I knew I was right when I said you were special. "

Maybe you're just too tired to do those things. Or, better yet, you know it would worsen your chances of survival. The urge to yell and flail is right around the corner, but so it the other voice asking you if you'd like to live to see another day.

" You're perfect. " He swoons, shifting his legs on your lap. " You love me already, don't you? "

Your chin is grasped, forcing you to face the hysterical-looking monster on top of you. Ah. So you were wrong. He's not any safer than the other ones, in fact, he's apparently a lot less stable. Something in the blade-thin pupils of those sweet round eyes tells you it's a horrible idea to antagonize him.

" O- Of course. " You stammer, trying to smile in a comforting way but very aware that your discomfort is shining through crystal clear. Grimbly tilts his head expectantly, and your eyelid twitches a little. " ... Sweetie. " For good measure, you give him a couple of pats on the head.

It seems you've gouged what he wanted correctly, because the waiter relaxes, leaning into the touch. " I knew it. " He lilts. It almost feels threatening.

You try to focus on the relatively calm surroundings, hearing some flapping and thumping in the distance. Not for long however, because a claw hooks onto the front of your dress and slips your tits out. You can only tense, observing the small bat hybrid excite himself with the sight of them. It certainly doesn't help that the slight breeze has your nipples rock hard like pointers. Small hands practically dart to hold your now exposed breasts, the touch greedy and self-serving more than anything. He's clearly not intending to massage you, more so rolling them for his own lurid entertainment.

A not half bad suggestion crosses your mind. What if... What if you used his own kink against him for a second? Would that work? Worth a try.

" Grimbly! " You call sternly, making the hypnotized monster blush and jump slightly. " What do you think you're doing?! Is this any way to behave? " A small part of you writhes, cringing.

" Buh- "

" But nothing. " You insist.

The smaller monster's face goes from velvet to crimson, although whether that's good or bad is up in the air. He covers his groin, expression deflating. For a moment, you almost believe he's going to come to his senses and let it die, your expectations are shifted upside down when he gives you a teary-eyed look.

" But I was so good! " His fists ball. " I didn't touch you while I was dressing you up even if I wanted to so bad! " A shiver crawls up your spine. " I'm being good for you! Aren't I? "

No. But the way the pitch in his voice rises makes you second-guess the effectiveness of pursuing this. " Mommy, why are you being so mean to me?! "

God, he's creepy.

Fine then, he wants you to play nice? Might as well get this over with.

Rolling your eyes, you shove his face between your tits, snickering at the surprised yelp he lets out, which very quickly morphs into a content murr. Those threatening pinprick points you can only guess function as fangs drag across the sensitive tissue of your breasts, and you vaguely wonder if he's going to bite at any point. Puncture into your chest. The mental image makes you shudder. His arms dart to squeeze the soft skin around himself more, and you take advantage of it by sliding a hand right down his body, to the sopping wet slit he tried to hide before.

Grimbly whimpers.

You don't know what to make of this guy.

He's definitely desperate, and even if he's got admittedly adorable looks, his attitude is invasive and abrasive. You can see through his little disguise, or maybe he's just become sloppy in his excitement, but this little fucker is toxic enough to smell. You'll have to be careful with him. For now though, you can afford being a little rougher. You deserve it even, after all that's happened to you. It's a miracle your poor body isn't sore. It should be.

With little to no hesitation, you slip two fingers into that eager hole, getting rewarded with moans that the monster tries to muffle against your skin, now merely holding onto you. The way you pump them is merciless, fingerfucking that pouch and ignoring the swollen cock begging to be freed. The bat's legs twitch, parting, his claws digging into your sides.

" Ghh- " He tries to form a sad excuse of a word, but you don't relent, getting some kicks out of torturing him this way. The sound of his slit greedily swallowing your fingers is lewd and loud.

" Mm, what was that? " You cruelly egg.

" Ngh- Mommy- "

" Yeah? " Grimbly makes another senseless noise and tries to buck into your motions. Your placid hand rises to grab him by the hip, and although you didn't expect it, you're able to keep him perfectly still. Or maybe he's letting you? You sense you have more strength over him.

" Words. " You demand.

" P- Please- Please let it out! It hurts- I need it! "

Your digits all but rip out of his hole, leaving it flexing solemnly before a short chubby cock pokes out. A smooth and slick member bobs in the air, featuring a tapered tip. He's the smallest you've seen today, but that's actually quite comforting. Just enough to make you feel good, and not have to worry about how your body is even accommodating it. Again, you're sure Vesper tampered with you in unwanted ways.

Not giving the needy waiter a moment of respite, you fist your hand around his pretty dick, pumping him fast and hard, occasionally stopping to toy with the odd tip and figuring out what feels best there. The monster atop you twitches and gasp, legs jerking while his body juggles excess sensation. But by God, if the look on his face isn't one of pure ecstasy, open-mouthed and eyes rolled, blinking with each new flare of heat.

It feels good to finally exert some sort of power over someone here. You're not foolish enough to believe you're safe, much less that you can intimidate this odd monster, but you can trick your desperate sense of control, pet it like one would a frightened animal, whisper that everything is fine- Because here you are, making the waiter choke on his own pleasured noises.

Some mean, wounded part of you wants to make Grimbly come from a harsh, merciless handjob. You want him to quiver and soak himself hopelessly, experience just a taste of the powerlessness you've been restricted to since the beginning of this cursed game, this obscene adventure born out of the depths of the Icon of Lust's debased psyche. You want to make sure he reaches that precious peak of pleasure, and then rip all touch away, see him buck like a stupid animal after your hand, cry and strangle out noises of despairing frustration as his orgasm is ruined.

For a brief instant, you stun yourself with the peculiar nature of your desires. You never once experienced a need to be so domineering and cruel... This place is sinking its filthy claws in your brain and it hasn't even been a full day yet. It's a horrifying possibility. Besides, you don't think it'd be a particularly bright idea to feed those urges.

" O-Ohn- N- Not yet! "

The waiter's ambiguous whining forces you to attention. He's thrashing a bit more, no longer the simple squirming of an overstimulated body but genuine attempts to halt things. You stop the moment he taps at your hand insistently.

Grimbly sighs, offering you a glazed smile. " I don't want to come yet, mommy. Not without you... "

Although the look he puts on is cute, you're too riled up to give him any leash, sliding him off your legs and placing him down with jarring ease. He weighs so little, it's bizarre, he definitely doesn't feel that light, and your upper body strength isn't anything to gawk at either. Huh. While he observes you vapidly, the dress is hiked up as you shift to straddle the small monster instead.

He's positively dwarfed by you, which is equal parts satisfying and arousing. The crimson burn on his cheeks agrees completely.

Although you hover tantalizingly over Grimbly's twitching cock, you don't touch or line the monster up with you, enjoying the frustrated brow crease wrinkling his otherwise smooth features. When the bat cares to look up from between plush legs, he finds you boring holes into him.

" A- Ah! " He flusters, breaking eye contact.

" What do you want? "

" Mmm... I want- " Magenta orbs flicker between the sight of your bare pussy to your eyes, begging wordlessly.

" You want? " Grabbing his member, you don't offer the bat any stimulation, even as his legs tremble and he bites his lips at the feeling of your pussy lips juuust grazing his tip.

" Please mommy! " He whines loud and high.

You actually can't contain the laugh that rips out your throat. " Please what? "

Grimbly cracks, voice acquiring a growled edge that wasn't there before. " I want your pussy! I want mommy's sweet pussy I Hhng- "

Gross. You sink onto him like an anchor.

A risky move, but fortunately, he's small enough that it went smoothly. While you blink and gasp in strong shocks of pleasure, Grimbly cries out like a needy whore, and you bet at least some people inside that blasted building heard it. Let them hear, fuck it.

He's still panting by the time dark hands hold onto your hips, throbbing inside you. Pent up little man, you doubt he'll last much longer. Drunk on the control, you can't take much more stillness, starting to ride the monster as hard as you know he wants it.

Grimbly's eyes widen and his mouth parts soundlessly, you grab the back of the bench to support yourself and grin as you fuck down onto his pretty cock, shivering at every choked out whimper he offers. What a pretty slut, maybe that's what the other ones saw when they took you. And you can't blame them for being weak to it.

The monster clips out moans with each bounce, your legs more powerful than his, jostling his lithe figure somewhat the harder you crash onto him. It's addicting, something you never thought you'd need so bad. Chasing your own pleasure becomes a secondary goal, overshadowed entirely by wanting to ruin the winged monster beneath you.

Grimbly seems entirely hypnotized by the sway of your tits, it would almost be hilarious if it didn't help make you feel so gorgeous and desired. One palm leaves the discolored bench to shove his face directly against your boobs, hearing him groan in rapture. The waiter boy gets to work fast, rolling a slick tongue around your nipple and kissing from one to the other, only ever stopping to drool and moan out what could be mindless pleas.

You don't ever slow down.

Fevered with a foreign sense of glee, Grimbly's ripped back from your now soaked tits by the horns, you dip to share a domineering kiss with him, giggling into his mouth, peeling away only to stuff two fingers between his lips. He sucks on them automatically, and your hips snap as harshly as you can when he bites down, breaking the skin. The slight bit of alarm such sudden pain causes you is shadowed by curiosity -Then realization- As you see Grimbly swallow what few rivulets of blood he can leech out of you.

Vampiric. There's something you didn't see coming.

Apparently, the view of you flushed and debased above him, paired with the flavor of your blood and the delicious clench of your cunt around him is the perfect recipe for the monster to see stars, a mangled feminine cry released past your fingers as he seizes and pistons up pointlessly, his orgasm taking hold of him by the neck. Even then, only you remain in control, deciding how hard to milk his poor cock and taking every last bit of cum as deep as possible.

You only slow down when Grimbly begins crying and begging you for a break. Even still, you'd love to continue torturing him, maybe wring a second one out of his mess of a body. You allow yourself a couple of deep, calming breaths, trying to gather your mind in the haze of unfulfilled pleasure. Gentle palms scritch at the bat's chin and cheek, earning a satisfied, adorable purr.

" Mommy y-you... " He starts, when you rise off his spent cock, wiping some of his own seed on him with no shame. " You didn't get to come. "

" I'll live. " You shrug, watching him slump. Truth be told, your legs are a little sore from being tense with need all this time, from deliberately cunt-teasing yourself, but it's better this way.

While Grimbly slumps onto the wood of the bench and catches his breath, you focus on standing up to straighten the dress, comb over your hair, make sure the bleeding stopped, cover your breasts and think.

Your limbs are free, you're clothed and he's disoriented. The surroundings are basically devoid of others, it's calm. If ever there was a golden opportunity to dash away, this would be it. Hesitating, you glance this way and that, trying to estimate how far the garden stretches, if there's anything like gates in the distance. Which would be the fastest way out for that matter? There's almost a sort of smog effect in the air. Truth be told, the more time you spend out there, the less you like it, the more you feel like you shouldn't be here at all.

Which is true, you never should have been anywhere near this fucking hellpit. But it wasn't your choice now, was it?

Lacking any sort of direction, bare feet step onto the stone pathway that you assume leads North. It's hard to tell given how late it's getting and how blurred the sky appears from here.

You don't make it past three steps.

Something coils around your wrist, yanking hard. When you lose balance, stumbling, Grimbly meets your curved form with an eerie deadpan. When had the little shit gotten up? You didn't hear a thing! Your blood freezes.

" Where do you think you're going, mommy? "

" N-Nowhere, baby boy. " You try, as clear a lie as it is.

The bat tuts. " I really thought you loved me, you know? " It's ominous that you can't tell how serious he's being right now.

In seconds, more of a blink really, you're flung onto the very same bench. It takes a couple of stunted, very slow moments, for your brain to click that- Yes, the short thing you easily lifted minutes ago did, in fact, just launch you around like you weigh less than a feather.

You knew it was too good to hope that Grimbly was nothing more than a frail-armed little pipsqueak...

You try to stand again, jolted by pain on your right arm, which took the brunt of the impact. Something can be heard rolling on the stony ground, and when you think to track the waiter, his long tail slides an object from behind that twisted fountain. A transparent spherical shape is snatched in a four-fingered hand, you can spot something alive writhing within it. Fear starts taking a hold of you.

Grimbly unscrews the container and promptly discards the top half, by the time you realize it's imperative to start running, something foreign and wet has collided with your turning body. Frantic, you find... Strings? Tubes? Worms? Oh God, that's disgusting, they're alive and squirming like tentacles, what the fuck are you even looking at?

The purple and blue-ish things sprout to action upon the first blind palping of your skin, wrapping around your upper body tightly and latching wetly onto the back of the bench, jarringly forcing you to sit. It happens so fast that all you can do is bleat in terror and shake your head. The things pulse around your arms and torso, featuring a heartbeat of their own, invasively caressing your form. Your strength is moot against them, there's very little give no matter how hard you flex.

Panic-stricken, you can only look to Grimbly for answers. He appears perfectly calm, having taken the time to clean himself while you were bound.

" See? This is what happens when I can't trust you, mommy. " He pouts. " Trust is the foundation of every good relationship, you know? "

" What- What the fuck are you doing? "

" Nothing! " The waiter perks up, trotting over to your form and placing a light kiss on your forehead. You openly glare at him. " I need you to stay right here for me while I take care of some things in the restaurant, okay? "

" Yay! I'll be right back! After all, we aren't done. " The bat winks, seeming very excited even as he zooms past you. The last thing you hear from him being no more than a rushed- " Don't miss me too much! "

It takes a long while before you realize he wants an actual answer, to which you groan and nod, furious.

A tired, drawn-out sigh flows out your lips.

How many more times will you have to be tied up in a single day? It's getting ridiculous. From present wrapping to ropes to whatever these organic constructs twined around you are. It just gets worse and worse, doesn't it?

Minutes pass. Darkness starts to creep in. You have no way of telling the time and have long since stopped trying to twist out of the tendrils. Or bite them off. You really wish you could hit your head against the wall, maybe drag the bench out with you, but it's firmly planted into the pathway.

There's nothing to do except stare longingly at the open garden, freedom taunting you like the cruel mistress it is. To think that if, maybe, if you hadn't hesitated, put thought into it, you could have been a great distance away from here already... Miserable.

You're trying to roll your shoulders against the oppressive force of the mass around you when the sound of chatter becomes louder. Footsteps, laughter, shouting. Monsters. People are exiting to the outside area of the building. Perhaps for an event? You can't tell, but it's not important.

What matters is that you can't be seen by groups right now, especially defenseless as you are. That'll be your death sentence, the final chapter of your life's book. More alert than ever before, you start squirming in earnest. Like Hell Grimbly's coming for you. You're fucked!

" Damn it! Stupid fucking things- "

Your aggravated growl rings out as you kick and jerk pointlessly, only serving to tire yourself out. Eventually, a forced sense of calmness, resignation effectively, takes hold. You slump without grace and allow the back of your head to rest on the uncomfortable metal frame supporting the wooden bench. When your eyes open, expecting to see nothing but the distorted sky's bleeding hues, two monsters stare down at you from the rooftop of the gothic infrastructure.

No... That's a monster with two heads. A winged, horned monster with paper bags covering its two heads. One of which has a hole ripped onto it, a red glow coming from within.

The fuck is that one supposed to be?

You squint. Demon? But what is he doing on the roof? In spite of the darkening surroundings, you catch glimpses of blue skin, spotted and sprinkled along his bulky body in a pattern that's not too distinct from the one on the stone paths on the ground... Oh.

Oh. It's a gargoyle. Wow. You never actually saw one of those before in your life. They're not very common. Did he... Are the bags stuck on his heads? Is he meant to have two heads?

Momentary shock set aside, it dawns on you that this monster has been curiously eyeing you for a while now. You have no idea for how long he's been staring, perched there silently like a vulture. Perhaps he's hungry, and you're starting to look like a decent appetizer to him. An easy kill. Trepidation has you gulping, though as soon as you open your mouth to try and communicate with him, ready to have to beg if need be, a grating chorus scrapes at your brain.

Another voice joins the choir of strangers conversing not too far away, this one much more obnoxious and harsh, drowning out all the others. The clicking of boots can be heard.

" Can you believe that's all they had for a starter? Absolutely disgraceful! And to think I've been hearing about this dump like it's the be all end all of recreational establishments- I've seen better entrées in the slop bucket shitheaps of Gluttony! "

Oh, there's that headache you were fearing.

" ... Yes, m'lord. "

Two figures approach faster than the rest of the crowd.

One is a towering, very pale demon with sharp facial features and a completely ridiculous attire. The cape is just the cherry on top. Nevertheless, the fact that he's accompanied by a golden-eyed imp in a dress, looking bored out of her mind, must mean he's of some relevance. You glance between the small four-horned demoness and the one ranting angrily as they settle far too close to you for comfort.

The imp takes out a cigarette from her black dress' pocket and lights it to her red lips. She can definitely see you sweating bullets, though just as clearly doesn't give half a fuck. The other one is still much too busy yapping to no one, eyes cast elsewhere.

" I'm not staying here all day, I have better things to do with my time, I'm not like those abject failures getting ruined in there- It's madness, this whole thing! I can't believe I agreed to it in the first place. Are you even listening?! "

The servant jolts, choking on her cigarette for a second as the distant haze fades from her eyes. " H-Huh? Yes, yes of course your majesty! "

Majesty... Uh oh.

You remember the gargoyle above you, checking to see if he's still there. Surprise surprise, he is. Exactly in the same spot, though a lot more tense in the vicinity of this new pair. Between this dubiously intentioned gargoyle and the guy nagging at his imp, you're not sure who to reach out to for help.

Neither option is particularly appealing.