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onsunnyside · 2 years

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³.⍭ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | ghostface!ex-boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead/dumb!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | soft DARK/DARK themes and elements, obsessed/controlling!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, dumb!reader, size difference: 6’10!Ari, manhandling, DD/LG undertones, stalking (implied), alcohol, drugs (weed, edibles). SMUT - minors DNI, fingering (f), daddy kink, size kink, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dacryphilia, degradation, dumbification, p*ssy slapping, squirting.

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.55K

𝗔/𝗡 | welcome to my first kinktober fic ever !! i’m very excited for you all to meet mr obsessive ex ari, after all, he was just thot of last week. As always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you all enjoy !!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Hey, I heard you were going to the Halloween party tonight… I just wanted to say have fun and be safe. You know how Drysdale’s parties can be—”

“You unblocked him?”

You jump, dropping your phone to the floor. At the doorway is your best friend, Wanda, with a black hat atop her soft auburn hair. She crosses her arms with a deep scowl, “Well? Are you going to explain yourself?”

You shrink under her harsh glare and nervously tug at the fur hem of your dress, “I got curious.”

She stomps towards you, embodying the grumpy, grouchy witch she’s dressed as. With a swift motion, she grabs your phone off the ground and tucks it into her purse. “Do not drunk text or call your ex.” She commands as if scolding a child. “You aren’t crawling back to that dickhead, even if I have to babysit you tonight.”

That was how plenty of people talked to you. Like you didn’t understand the simplest things and needed everything spelled out and demonstrated.

And, you won’t lie—sometimes that demeaning exchange was what you needed, but other times it just made you feel stupid.

This wasn’t the first time one of your friends has treated you this way, hell, you don’t remember when they treated you any other way. Ever since your breakup, they’ve kept you on a tight leash, snooping through your phone, keeping tabs on your whereabouts, and even passing you around like a baby who couldn’t take care of themself.

The breakup was their idea—an ultimatum, more like it, “it’s us or him. We take care of you, and he—he treats you like a pet or a fucking baby.”

You chose your closest friends over the guy who made your heart swell bigger than the moon. Even now, you still feel the ache in your chest, the gutting loss of someone you once loved and someone who made you happy.

You’re happier now, that’s what Natasha told you every day. You’re happier without him.

“I won’t!” You vow and reach for her bag, but she quickly steps away. “Wanda, please! I can hold my phone!”

“No, because now I know I can’t trust you when you’re sober!” She snaps, “It’s been what? A month?”

You wince at her volume, “Five weeks—almost six.”

She groans in frustration, “Ugh, c’mon! He was always breathing down your neck and he never let you go out with us unless he was there. How could we have proper fun with a scary giant like him?”

Ari was on the rugby team, a D1 player, whatever that meant, you assumed it meant he was one of the best. He was tall and brawny, just over 6’10” with broad shoulders and a thick chest that nearly burst through all his button-ups. His firm arms were bigger than your head and his hand dwarfed yours. He used to wrap his bicep around your neck and tug you into him to kiss your cheeks—one of his love languages was touch. And his thighs, you mourned all the times you napped on his lap, rubbing your cheek into the coarse hair of his muscular flesh.

He was so much bigger than most people on campus. His impenetrable presence towered over them. Oftentimes he’d manhandle you or carry you around. You thought it was cute when he had to duck through doorways sometimes.

The first time he ever came to your dorm room, he didn’t even try to climb to your bed on the upper bunk.

“You know, if we start dating, you’ll have to do some remodelling.” He smirked and tugged you to the edge of the mattress by your ankle, “Don’t you want me in your bed too, bunny?”

After a week of begging your roommate to rearrange the room, you both came to a compromise. Now, you were on the bottom bunk and she moved to the top.

“You could sit here now!” You presented your clean, made bed with your dozens of stuffies all neatly sitting atop the coral covers. “Watch your head but just in case, I put a little cushion too.”

Ari was popular and well-liked, he came from a good, wealthy family who hosted charity auctions and funded the college. His reputation was spotless, he was one of the top students, and he had many friends and admirers. If you two went out to dinner, it was guaranteed that someone would strike up a conversation. You didn’t care, you loved hearing Ari’s voice.

You also loved when he introduced you as his girlfriend, always kissing your hand after saying your name in that creamy voice of his.

“He isn’t scary… just intimidating.” You shyly countered, twiddling your fingers, “And he was there because I get nervous without him.”

“That’s exactly what we mean. You have to be your own person. Exist without needing someone to tell you what to do! Being so dependent on someone, much less some asshole like him, isn’t good for you.”

But Ari always knew what was good for you.

You were never the brightest star, always fumbling and forgetful, ditzy and daydreaming every second of the day. Your grades not only proved how easily you got distracted but also your lack of drive and self-discipline.

All your life you’ve flounced and fleeted, lived your days so blissfully ignorant to anything beyond the surface. That cluelessness made you vulnerable to any monster to sink their teeth into. It painted a self-portrait of your untouched, innocent soul, coloured like white chiffon.

“I didn’t mind…”

“You didn’t notice.” She corrects. “But he did. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he liked that you were—” stupid, it goes unsaid, “—oblivious. It made you easy, hun. That’s why he so effortlessly controlled you.”

Your friends could try as they might, but it will never change the fact that Ari made you feel safe, secure and loved. And without him, you’re lying back on that heap of sticky disarray without a hint of how to take care of yourself.

“We’re trying to protect you, don’t you understand that?” Wanda coaxes, tilting your chin up with her knuckle. The corners of her red lips turn down to a frown, “We care about you, we want what’s best for you and you know that Ari is far from that.” She wipes your cheek, and only then do you notice you’re crying.

You heard the first breakup was the hardest, but you never expected it to be like this. You’re lost and alone. Abandoned in the middle of a bustling city, it was blinding, overcrowded and so loud that you had to cover your eyes and ears just for relief. You’re overwhelmed and disorientated, nothing made sense, no matter how hard you try to decipher it.

There was no direction without him.

You roughly wipe your nose and meet your reflection. Aside from the fresh tears and glossy pout, your skin glistened from the glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones—bunnies aren’t shimmery, Maria said, but you thought it was cute anyway. And you loved sparkles, that’s why Ari got you so much jewelry.

Jewelry that your friends got rid of. You grieve for the gold ‘A’ initial charm, either sitting in the city dump or in a hidden box that you’ll never find. They’re all gone, just like his hoodies and sweatpants, and your beloved Hazel, the softest stuffie you’ve ever owned. You miss his weighted body covered in beige fur, floppy ears and lifeless but sweet eyes.

“I had to reward you for doing so well on that test.” That was a stretch, you got a ‘C+’ but that was better than the ‘D-’ you got last time. Ari beamed proudly when you buried your nose in the stuffie, cutely kicking your feet in happiness. “You take care of him, bunny, he’s our little baby, okay?”

Ari pampered you, took you on dates and walked you to class every day. You thought he treated you like a princess, not a pet.

Ari wasn’t that bad. To you, he was never bad.

Wanda fixes your bunny ears and rubs your shoulders, a pitiful smile on her face. “C’mon, let’s fix your makeup before we go.”

“So, he treated you like a pet?” One of your friends asked.

“…He just made sure I was well taken care of.”

“Didn’t he just plop you in front of the television while he did his own thing?”

Yes, although his academic talents seemed natural, Ari was very serious about school and would spend hours at his desk, studying or perfecting assignments. Sometimes he even did your homework, “Dummy bunny, you just sit there while I take care of this, okay?”

You vaguely recall the times he would tell you to not make a peep until he spoke first, just to keep your glossy lips shut until he addressed you. To you, it was being respectful of his quiet time and letting him set boundaries. Your friends thought it was toxic and controlling.

“You’re a human being, not his pretty little pet to do whatever he says.”

The mansion is packed when you and your friends arrive fashionably late. The bunch of you are clad in costumes ranging from a bright red devil to a dead cheerleader to a dark and mysterious witch. Unfortunately, you stuck out like a sore thumb with your egg-filled basket, sheer dress, and white fluffy ears and matching tail. You were the only one not in classic Halloween attire.

You’re grateful Natasha suggested fake eggs instead of real ones. Although you wanted the joy of painting real Easter eggs, you’ve already dropped a few on the way to the party. You dreaded the mess and smell if they were real instead of just empty plastic.

You suppose they were right, you didn’t think things through all the time.

The whole property is decked out, from the jack o'lanterns on the porch and the ‘Enter If You Dare’ sign in the front yard. Inside the big house, strobe lights flashed across the room in red, blue and green, colouring the other guests in neon shades. The walls were covered in bat and spider decals, little white ghosts hung from the banisters, and fake spider webs occupied the ceiling corners.

It doesn’t take long for your friends to get the night started. After getting drinks from a frat boy dressed as an ice cream man, the group of you migrated to the energetic dance floor in the basement.

The music was louder and the lights were brighter, blinding you every time they found your eyes. As the colour sparks across the walls, inescapable memories flash through your brain.

The last time you were at a party, it was to celebrate another win by the rugby team and being the girlfriend of their best player, you had to dress for the role. You squeezed into your old cheer uniform and cheekily stitched each letter of ‘LEVINSON’ on the back. Oh, Ari loved when you wore his name. If he could, he’d have you clad in his jersey every damn day.

This wasn’t a party hosted by his fraternity, your friends made sure of that, but a few of his friends were in attendance. You’ve caught glimpses of their tall and burly figures but didn’t dare to say hello. It would be too awkward.

What if he’s here too?

One by one, your friends disappear and you're left in the middle of the dance floor with your basket half empty. The eggs were going to be impossible to find, so you didn’t try. After weaving through the sweaty, grinding bodies, you returned to the less packed kitchen.

With your ears still pounding, you squint at the bottles, reading each name and smelling a few. Eventually, you give up and dumbly mix whatever looks good. Judging books by their covers never got you far, but it got you something, and you wanted to have fun tonight. Party, dance, get drunk and have fun.

A shadow appears next to you, crowding you against the counter with its mass and height. When you turn around, a radiant smile explodes on your face. “Hey, Brian!”

“It’s Bryce.” The light-haired man corrects with a quirk of his lips. “Forget me already?”

Your eyes widen, “Oops, sorry! No, how could I forget the world’s best lab partner?” You set aside your cup and hug him tightly, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I just got here, I had to pick up some brownies that Jensen made.” He nods to the spread of snacks and punch. Like the rest of the house, the table was Halloween-themed with eyeball cake pops, blood-red punch, and the cutest spooky cupcakes. The surface was also decorated with old lanterns, fake candles and skulls. “You want to try?”

You shy away. The last time you tried Jensen’s brownies, you jumped Ari’s bones right in front of his friends, the baker himself included! You hadn’t felt like that before, that needy, desperate and wet.

To this day, you’re still haunted by the memories of Ari slipping his hand up your tiny skirt and getting you off with just a few fingers. With his friends packed into the frat house living room, their eyes drawn to the sports game on the television, either ignoring or not noticing your quiet whimpers and the dull motions under the blanket on your lap.

“Dumb little bunny, are you gonna come in front of daddy’s friends?” He whispers against your ear, locking you tightly in his lap and stuffing your soppy core with two thick fingers, “I want you to make a stupid mess in your pretty panties, cream yourself like a pathetic baby so daddy could clean you up later.”

You shake your head, grasping his wrist under the blanket.

Ari cruelly takes that as a sign to speed up his pumps, rubbing your swollen clit with the heel of his palm. Your wetness smears down your slit, soaking your skimpy thong and the cushion of the couch. Between the pauses of the sports game, you can hear the horrifying sticky sounds from between your trembling thighs.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, bunny? Daddy’s just helping you out. Poor girl gets all wet with just a lil weed.”

You can still taste the chocolatey goodness. How shameful was it that you’d have another if he asked?

He kicks your legs apart and gets rougher, making you fall back onto his chest with a gasp, “Think I can fit another, baby? Or is your tight pussy still too little for me?”

“T-Too small, daddy—not gonna fit.” You shakily reply, knowing all too well how he has to force himself into your tight walls. The thought of his girth stuffing your core has a wave of arousal pooling around his thrusting fingers, and your stomach tightening.

He groans lowly, “Mhm, but you want me to try. Dumb little whore loves being filled to the brim, huh?” His ring finger slides alongside the other two, stretching your weepy hole as a burning sensation flows through you. “You love when I just pin you down and force you to take it. My bunny fuckin’ loves being used.” His bicep keeps you against his warm, muscled body, only reminding you how trapped you are, entirely helpless and vulnerable to his sinful actions.

He was right, you loved it.

A choked whine escapes your sealed lips, miraculously not catching the attention of the other guys. Your hips grind against his hand, practically riding his fingers as you topple over. You slap a hand over your mouth, silencing your moan as your juices spurt from your pussy.

“Good girl, that’s it, use daddy’s fingers.” He spears into you relentlessly, hitting that rough patch with his long fingers and rubbing your clit with his palm. The lewd noises grow in volume, he doesn’t give a shit if his friends notice—he wants them to. He wants them to know you’re his and only his. “Cream yourself, ya little dummy. Make a mess in front of all my friends—let ‘em know what a filthy slut you are for daddy.”

Your orgasm rushes down your leg, soaking his pants and the material of your leg warmers, and adds to the disgraceful puddle on the floor. Tears stream down your hot cheeks and your mind goes blank, drool dripping from your chin dumbly. Ari pulls away with a mean pinch to your clit and you spasm in his hold, uneven breaths shaking your frame.

He growls and slaps your cunt, unable to resist rubbing your puffy button. “Fuck, I should’ve had you try those brownies earlier, could’ve gave this greedy little cunt what it needs.”

It was safe to say if you wanted a brownie, you wouldn’t spend the night alone.

“I don’t know… It isn’t even midnight yet.”

“C’mon! It’s a new recipe, similar to his usual stuff but not as strong. You’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Bryce tugs you to the table with a firm grip on your hand. “I’ll get you a piece, do you like corners or middles?”

You don’t want to tell him about the problem from the last time. Who knows what he’d think of you?

Those worries didn’t only stem from embarrassment, but you grew up in a household where the topic of sex was forbidden. Everything you learnt was from your past boyfriends, mainly Ari since he was your first serious relationship. Openness about the subject was still difficult, regardless of the escapades you and your ex have shared.

“If you have one, I’ll have one too.” Bryce urges, tilting his head like a puppy. “That way neither of us will be alone. Does that seem like a fair bargain, m’lady?” He bows.

Your gaze drops to his thin white shirt, hanging on by two bottom buttons and tucked into the thick belt of his jeans. Sweat glistens on his pale, taut skin, highlighting the dips of his abs. Your grip on the Easter basket tightens as your eyes follow the trail of hair from his chest to his belly button.

Bryce takes advantage of your glazed expression and holds a square to your mouth, cooing softly, “Open up, little bunny.” You make a confused sound and he uses that opportunity to feed you the brownie and tilt your chin, making you take a big chunk of the laced treat. “There we go, a nice big bite for me.”

He’s so close you can count every freckle on his clean-shaven face. Bryce has always been pretty, but with his hair slightly longer and a gold crown atop his head, he’s even prettier.

“So well behaved. Does it taste good?”

You nod wordlessly, not realizing he’s feeding you the rest of the brownie until he turns back to the tray. The rich, chocolate flavour spreads along your tastebuds, it’s gooey and moist, almost making you forget about the other ingredient.

Bryce pops a whole square into his mouth and chews slowly. “Mhm, way better than his last batch.” He washes it down with a sip from a childishly cute monster-themed solo cup. “We should wait a bit before having more.”

“I’ve never had more than one.”

“Then you’re in for a night, bunny.” He flashes a charming smile, all too fitting for his costume. “You’ve got some chocolate, let me get it for you.” He pinches your chin between his fingers and licks his other thumb, then delicately wipes the corner of your lips, as a mother would to a child. The single action brings warmth to your cheeks that only grows hotter when Bryce sucks the same digit into his mouth, his white teeth digging into his knuckle. “Always such a messy girl, I remember how stained your lab coat was just after the first semester.”

“That class was so hard—I don’t think I learnt a thing!”

Of course you didn’t, what could fit in your head other than air?

He doesn’t say that obviously, but he knows it’s true. Everyone on campus knew you were just a ditzy, clueless airhead with an irresistibly sweet personality. Nothing up there but you were plenty to look at with all your sundresses, mini skirts and those fucking tight shirts that you never wore a bra underneath.

You didn’t even know you were collecting people’s hearts like trading cards.

“You look great!” He says instead, reaching out to touch your soft ears. “Give me a spin, sweetheart.”

You giggle and twirl around, showing off your puffy tail and almost tripping over yourself. “Thanks! My friends thought being the Easter bunny was dumb, but I’ve had this nightie forever and wanted to finally wear it—that’s why it’s a little small.” You whisper, gesturing to your breasts.

If you jumped too suddenly, they’d surely spill out and Bryce mmediately thinks of ways to make you hop like a real bunny. “It isn’t dumb, I think you’ve got the best costume here.”

You preen under his praise, smiling so dumbly that you don’t notice his eyes locking on your exposed cleavage. Usually, you’re wearing some fresh hickeys or marks from your boyfriend, all while he wears you on his arm like a shiny bracelet. Levinson knew he had the hottest piece of ass on campus, and he made sure everyone knew you were claimed, like a damn slab of meat.

Bryce hated him but he can’t be upset about that, because he’d treat you the same way.

“I like yours too. You’re the first and only prince I’ve seen all night.”

“Yeah? What’s your boyfriend dressed as?” He cuts to the chase, “I haven’t seen him yet, and you two are usually inseparable.” More like he never let you get more than three feet away.

Your shoulders go slack and if your ears were real, they’d surely do the same. “oh, we broke up…”

Bryce blinks in surprise, caught off guard. A rush of glee fills his body, but he hides it with faux concern, “What? When?” Just like that, your eyes start watering again—and he can’t help but admire how pretty you look when you cry. “Did he break your heart, baby?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, swallowing the lump in your throat, “No, I-I dumped him.”

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He isn’t, not one bit. “Do you want to talk about it outside?”

Ari is fucking seething.

Boiling with rage to the point where steam nearly blows from his ears. Under his black hooded robe, his skin is set ablaze as he watches you stumble after the brunet. You’re facing down but his sharp gaze follows those white and pink ears.

He glances at his phone, the delivered sign right under the various text messages sent to you all night. He was checking up on you, making sure you were okay and not getting into trouble.

Just because you were broken up didn’t mean he could instantly stop caring about you—that’s what he told his friends who were still wondering why he was so hung up on you.

“You could get any other girl, man.” Steve rubs his back, the locker room emptier now that most of the team had left.

The rugby team won the game, no surprise there, but while the rest of the guys celebrate the victory, Ari can’t relax. He can barely sit still. The image of the empty seat of the very first row is burned on the inside of his eyelids, patronizing him.

“But, none of them are her.” Curtis dramatically sighs from down the aisle, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “What? You think just because she was your girl, that I can’t find her hot?”

“The decent thing to do would be to not say it out loud, asshole.”

“Too bad it’s hard to forget a piece of ass like that.” Another unhelpful voice speaks up as a dripping wet brunet emerges from the showers, his long hair still soaked. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having her then losing her.”

“I didn’t lose her.” Ari huffs, tossing aside his phone so he didn’t have to look at the painful one-sided conversations.

“Well, you had her and now you don’t.” Curtis deadpanned. “Sounds like losing her to me.” Bucky finishes with a snort.

Steve, the only one with a heart, tells them to shut up. He hated seeing his childhood best friend so upset. “Have you tried going to her dorm?”

Every damn day. “She’s never there. Always out with her fuckin’ friends. Bunch of dumb sluts, all of them.”

“Your precious bunny included?”

Ari rolls his eyes. “She’s got no brains anyway.”

Bucky laughs, drying his hair with a towel. “You know, it wasn’t her choice. They all pushed her to dump you.” Oh, Ari knows that.

“So technically, she isn’t to blame.” Steve agrees, he tucks his blond hair into a baseball cap. “I knew she wouldn’t make that decision by herself.”

“‘cause she’s stupid?” Curtis smugly wonders, “Because we know that already.”

“No, because she loved him.”

Loved—that isn’t right. You still love him. You had to. You were his sweet girl, his dumb baby, his bunny. He couldn’t fathom you just being you. Someone entirely detached from him, free of his authority and influence.

That kind of independence was high over your head and you’d never reach it no matter how hard you tried. You could climb skyscrapers or trees that kiss the clouds, but it’ll never be enough. You needed him to lift you up and get you there, and fill up your empty little head with a false sense of self-rule.

You should be thankful for him and kiss the ground he walks on, not break his heart over text.

You’d be nothing without him in the same way he was nothing without you.

After you met him, your perceptions and ideas, desires and fears were no longer your own. He fixed the little puzzle in your head, he did all the thinking and decision-making since you clearly couldn’t do it by yourself.

He was electric and charismatic, and you were pure and gullible.

The itty bitty seedling in a field of mature, vibrant flowers. Everyone crowded over you, stealing the golden rays and fresh breeze—that was until Ari came along and tucked you into an ivory pot, and took you home.

He gave you everything you needed and then some, always putting your well-being above his own. He watered you, raised you towards the sun and made you into his slice of heaven. He made it so you couldn’t grow and flourish without him.

Then, you took his heart and stomped on it like a bug.

“She’s just an airhead who does whatever people tell her.” Curtis affirms, “Ain’t nothing up there but pixie dust and cotton candy.”

Ari can’t deny that. He knows all too well about your naive obedience to orders and your wide-eyed, credulous view of the world. You were always focusing on the bright side, always holding other people’s opinions above your own—that’s what made it so easy to drill the hunger for his acceptance into your head.

Bucky hums, “If anything, you’ve got to get even with her friends. If they’re out of the picture, who do you think she’ll run back to?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hehe I think i'm in my sleazy daddy and airhead!reader era. i bet you aren't ready for ari fucking reader in mating press.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! see you on oct. 6 for part two !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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jesterjaxx · 3 days

Text

Halloween AU lore dump!!!

❗️WARNING❗️

so much infodumping world buidling and headcannons

DJ- Robot

Originally built to be a robo cop type deal. But when given free will refused to hurt anyone and got scrapped

Was found and repurposed by "Momma" to be a son

Really fuckin loves animals. Nature in general but mostly animals.

They get spooked by him a lot though

Hes kinda sad about this but gets it.

Momma is a scraper/engineer and outfitted him with everything a "good human boy" would need, like touch receptors and an ability to taste

Nothing to be done about majorly changing how he looks tho

The ability to feel is a bit too much sometimes

Sometimes all he can feel is cold

Goes to Duncan to see if he can do something about helping communicate to animals that he is a friend. Ala magic.

Machinery and Magic don't mix well typically, you gotta be crazy specific, which isn't really Duncan's styel

Duncan likes DJ tho, and proceeds to steal some of Harolds spellbooks

Side plot of them being wayyyy to hard for him to read, in both way too high level and shitty handwritten chickenscratch that fucks with his dyslexia, so he has to ask Harold for help

Maybe they learn to better understand eachother idk

Maybe they kill eachother

Harold and Duncan team up 6 dead 9 injured every single person is fucking baffled

Anyways DJ is like iron giant up in this bitch

His Momma is kinda worried that one day he'll learn enough mechanics to fix himself up and wont need her anymore

Tyler - Harpy

Ok the chicken fear makes sense now

He gets the uncanny valley feeling looking at chickens

I would too

He would fly into a window

Can he fly?

Hes like a turkey

Or a seagull

Wait im an idiot hes a chicken

Duh

Eva - Gargoyle

Her carver loved buff women thank god almighty for that

Punches like a brick wall

Living Stone

lion paws for feet

Did you guys know sound resonates the best through solids??

Her music listening experience is legit i just know it

Noah - The Blob/ slime monster

Oh god that poor guy

Hes gonna get slime all over his books

Harold - Witch

He's the type of witch to have seperate waters for different kinds of spells

A pretty dorky Witch, even by witch standards

Wears proper witch PPE (robes and hat)

Has his sheldon Big Bang Theory style shirts on underneath tho

Uses incantations and written spells in magical languages mainly

Uses the starlight, paper, ink, historical artifacts and an assortment of magical ingredients as fuels

Has a large collection of quality spellbooks for references

Not those shitty amazon spellbooks that are just a list of pre written spells, these ones were written by some old hag 80 years ago and through flowery rambleing language tell you how write spells yourself. They go into spell syntax.

Harolds books for writing incantations and spells are spiral notebooks

If he uses smbols will typically craft a custom sygil for it

Uses alot of number magic and latin

Uses his confidence in his skills with writing spells to harness magic

Is better at doing spells for other people, when doing spells for himself he tends to overcomplicate things

Actually went to magic camps and magic summer schools

"I was trained for this!" and it's Mostly true

Can make the most specific fucking spell work for him

I cannot stress he is good at this type of casting.

Duncan's way of doing magic pisses him off. Both are convinced their way is better

Harold to Duncan ->"What the fuck do you mean you increased your strength with a posca marker, bare knuckles and a dream. How are you not dead yet >:[ "

He has a lot of respect for magic itself, Duncan's almost disrespectful way of using magic makes him mad.

Whats worse is that it works.

How Harold casts a spell

Writes down a goal -> outlines different methods to achieve it (incantations, scrolls, potions) -> writes out the spelleork with alot of detail accounting for almost every outcome -> it takes very long -> outwardly or inwardly recites writes spell to activate it -> profit

Alejandro - Siren

(I give up with organization here no more bullet points)

Mermaids and Sirens are almost identical, with few overt physical differences

Sirens will typically have colored iris', 2 finned gills, longer tounges, boned ears and uniformly sharp teeth

Mermaids have colored scalera, 3 smooth gills, finned ears and sharp canines

This isn't a rule, and in modern times there are few families of sirens or mermaids that havent mixed with other monsters at some point

Both species have shape-shifting abilities.

Mermaids have two forms, and can switch between them at will, though the process takes hours and the mermaid will have to stay in either aquatic or land form for a couple weeks before changing again. though this wait time can be speed up with tailsmen, it's can cause health problems.

Siren can shift their features at will, including shifting from aquatic to non aquatic with no wait time, some families of Siren encourage "good breeding" and fostering shifting abilities to the point of shifting bone structure, hair, colors and gender at will. This level of shifting controll is a very desirable trait, and cannot be learned.

Alejandro is one of these few families who try to stay purely Siren

Hes a 100% Siren, but unlike his brothers he lacks any shape-shifting abilities, a flaw that has brought him great shame (this is just a genetic fluke, it's like a birth defect)

but he has both a very powerful ability to enchant his words and natural charisma. Dangerous combo.

Because of the well known knowledge that Sirens can manipulate people with ease, Alejandro semi pretends that he is a Mermaid, using his long hair to obscure his gills

He more just lets people assume hes a Mermaid and does not correct them rather than actually lying

He lies about many things but outright lying about species is a bit much

Siren Speech doesn't work as good if someone's also using magic at the same time or knows what's up about it

It doesn't work that great on Heather, Duncan or Harold point blank, or Lindsay, Beth Trent and Justin if they're shifting or shifted

Good thing hes manipulative on his own!

Beth - Mermaid

Yeah sure why not

I don't know enough about Beth yet i need a moot whose obsessed with her

Ezekiel - Ghost

Lmao hes invisible

Poor dude probably gets looked over all the time

Hes just clothes and a transparent person

Justin - Werewolf

The twilight girls would go crazy over him i know it

Cody - Puppet

Oh poor dude

Itll look cool tho

Hed make knock on wood jokes all the time

Trent - Werecat

The trustin girls would go crazy over this i know it

But real like hes chillin

Would use claws as a pick

Geoff - Frankenstein

A man of the people

Literally

Looses limbs easily

Wakes up after a party like "wheres my leg lmao"

Heather - Zombie

Oh this is good

Shes vegan

Would insult people like "i can tell you have a brain why the hell don't you use it"

Very concerned over phsyical appearance

Uses so so many products

Pretty alive looking for a zombie cuz of it

It's kinda creepy

Her eyes got no eyeshine tho

Like a shark.

Gwen - Skeleton/Ghost

Ok this was an accidental double Gwen got both Skeleton and ghost

Since Ezekiel is already a ghost i'm Gonna lean into the Skeleton bit more but throw a transparent silhouette over all of her for the ghost bit

Ghost vs Zombie rivalry

She'd do all sorts of cool drawings and markings on her bones

Gwen, drawing a bat on her femur with sharpie: tattoo moment

Her eyeliner is also sharpie

Who the fuck cares about skincare when you don't have skin

Lindsay: you shouldn't put permanent marker on your face! It can hurt you 🥺

Gwen, floating bones:

LeShawna - Chimera

YES I LOVE MONSTER COMBOS

LIKE COMBINATIONS OF MULTIPLE ANIMALS

lets do classic chimera but with one head

Lean into the Lioness bit cuz Leshawna is a boss bitch and Lionesses are so fucking cool

I might give her a scorpion tail

Duncan - Witch

Another double whoops lol

He's a "fuck it we ball" typa witch

lmao he and Harold are beefing like crazy i know it Harold has 12 spellbooks hes memorized with their specific ways of casting and Duncan is writing runes on his knuckles with sharpie

Duncan to Harold ->"Why are you using 2 pages of latin for a fire spell??"

"Because i need only this bit of wood to light on fire a little bit and nothing else and if i dont i could loose control of it or blow it up or it might not even start"

*stares in did finger guns at a branch and cremated it for fun*

Harold to Duncan ->"Why are you writing runes on your nailpolish??"

"i'm tired of being the only scary bitch here without claws"

*stares in once accidentally rubbed spell notes off of his spellbook and onto his face while passed out on his desk and gave himself acid burns for 3 weeks"

They go crazy they go stupid

Hes self taught

The Duncan and Harold bullying arc turned Street smart vs actually Smart but make it witches

Mostly just picking shit up as he goes

"Stole" (it was free) a pamphlet on different types of magical symbols and has managed to make the symbols illustrated in it work for almost every spell he wants

Fueled by raw unrelenting audacity

Real lore tho- magic is created with belief and harnessed with confidence, you can either go the intellectual route and control every variable and have trust in your control of those variables to harness the magic like Harold, or like Duncan, have enough semi-unearned confidence in yourself to harness magic with little need for more than a few variables.

Basically as a general rule, it has as much meaning as you truthfully believe it does

Doesn't explain what hes casting or how hes doing it

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"what are you a cop?"

(learned from illustrations, word of mouth, and other witches on the street)

Has a couple stick n poke magical symbols, several other scribbled on symbols that are temporary

Biggest one is a glyph for fire on his hand, he doens most of his spells using it

Has burns around his glyph tattoos from spells backfiring cuz he got distracted

Uses sharpies, spraypaint, eyeliner and the insides of firecrackers for drawing symbols

If he needs a magical material he'll typically substitute whatever he has on him, belief goes a long way.

"Pure Holy Silver?... this earring looks silver enough

This doesn't work for potions cuz potions are only a little left to normal chemistry.

Has alot of talisman he wears

Carries extra ingredients on him ala accessories cuz fuck it it looks cool

Mains his spells with symbols, uses potions or material fuels if he cant make a good connection between what he wants and one of 10 symbols he remembers at any given time

Uses moonlight, bones, rocks, and personal artifacts as fuels

How duncan casts a spell

Draws glyph -> creates a mental connection between what the glyph means and what he wants to do (this is mostly subconscious with Duncan he doenst know what hes doing he just knows he does it well)-> activates glyph physically (ie hitting, tapping, lighting, punching, tracing with finger)

Example: draws fire glyph on Chris's camper -> wants to set it on fire but not the surrounding grass and trees -> smacks the side of the camper that has the glyph on it -> profit

Duncan, to Harold: You make magic math, i make magic my bitch

Bridgette - Alien

Aww she could be so cute

Surfer girl from planet nine

Owen - Plant Monster

This could visually look really cool

Big carnivorous plant

Izzy - Angel

kaleidoscope = biblically accurate form, cuz she "Looks like a kaleidoscope! Duh!"

Lindsay - Selkie

If you steal her coat ill fucking kill you

Sadie - Vampire

Ough thats cute

I'm Gonna make her pigtails batwings

Katie - Zombie

undead girlfriends

Sadie thinks Katie is so pretty it doesn't matter her eye just fell out

Courtney - Demon

Oh this bitch looooves contracts

Is also upset about Duncan but she just doesn't like witches in general

Whats the point of making deals with humans for magical powers of some humans give themselves magical powers

Demon of what?? Pride maybe?? Or envy??

Shes a sweetheart tho

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 4 months

Text

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Round 2

Propaganda:

Amuro -

"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."

Kyouya -

"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."

Euini -

"I relate a lot to his social anxiety, especially his performance anxiety that occurs when he's being watched by people, particularly due to his stress at needing to follow the plan/do things the "proper" way in order to not feel like he's a failure. he also stands like a lil autistic kid and i appreciate him so much for that.

(LIGHT SPOILERS) basically, he has a test that he needs to take in order to advance as a witch, and he keeps failing it because he cant perform properly while being watched by other people, even though he knows the "right" spells to use and why he's supposed to use them. on his third attempt of the test, he's prepared a "script" to use so that he can follow it and not worry about failing in the moment (in this case, his script is a hand-written book of the proper spells to use and the order in which he's supposed to use them), but when a part of the exam changes, he's no longer able to follow his script. because he's been taught all his life that there's only one proper way of doing things, his way of thinking is very rigid and he's not able to deviate from his plan without panicking. luckily, one of his fellow examinees (richeh from the autistic anime girls poll 💕) is able to convince him to try and change the way that he does things to something that is more attuned to his personal needs- basically change the way that he casts his spells and which spells to use so that he doesn't need to struggle with doing things in the way that everyone says that he should; the way that he cant seem to manage. but, even before richeh helped him with that though, he was still finding way to modify the "proper" spells a little bit to better suit his weaknesses. he was trying so hard to fit in to the mold that witch society gave him, but it just wasnt right for him and he was making it work however he could."

Aoi -

"He has a very devoted special interest in the idol Takada-chan, which he frequently imagines in fights and other situations… the moment someone (Itadori) expresses equal interest in something he is passionate about, he immediately declares them besties and brothers and creates a whole elaborate shared history for them that doesn’t actually exist. He’s not really interested in connecting with people who don’t share his interests. He’s seen as somewhat strange and eccentric. Though in the present he is respected because of his strength as a sorcerer, as a child he was very isolated."

Floyd -

"Has no emotional regulation skills and will make it everyone's problem. Prone to mood swings and can get angry at the drop of a hat, but can also be so goofy, silly, and lovely. Sways side to side for that good good stim, and loves to squeeze others (with violent intent and affectionate intent). Who doesn't love a good pressure stim? His interest in things can be fleeting, and his motivation to do things can change as quickly as his mood. Spontaneous and feral extraordinaire."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Ash -

"he just has those vibes ya know?"

Shou -

"His special interest is math. He uses math terms in regular conversations and calls people yoctograms/zeptograms which earned him monikers such as "math man" and "pi-face". Speaking of Pi, he once shouted 155 consecutive digits of it through a megaphone just because he could. He's so normal."

Sunny -

"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."

Yuu -

"He’s like if an emo programmer boy was also completely unhinged and also had a tragic backstory."

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meowjings-arsb · 3 months

Text

Possibly even more on crack Stardew headcanons and whatnot because yes 👍

First post

Void chickens are burnt

With enough void mayonnaise, you could possibly obtain the goblin Henchman’s loyalty if only that the Witch doesn’t curse you first

All rabbits are honed in the fine art of keychain making. Hence the lucky rabbit feet they give off

We still don’t know where they’re getting the extra feet though…

Junimo have short, soft, fluffy fur 🍏

They’re also squeezable like a stress ball or a balloon filled with slime

Don’t take (much) fall damage or injury from being tossed at stacks of cans 🥫, but that’s very mean so why would you do that-

From what the witch remembers, humans typically hate void chickens because their eggs are gross but aPARENTLY she guessed wrong with the farmer when she cursed their hen house. She wanted them to eat the egg out of curiosity and suffer for a day or two but noooooo they INCUBATED it out of curiosity instead of consuming it ahhhhhhhhhhhh

She guessed right on cursing the slime hutch with black slimes though because we all know naughty children hate coal.

Gil at some point did a joke slime making video using an actual cave slime, and people just thought it was cool effects and CGI stuff. So now he’s a hit with the slime making fantasy types

Marlon also walked in on him giving a slime a glitter bath. Gil also had glitter all over his face from the slime hitting him head on.

Most of the decorations for the festivals are stored in Pierre’s, the Saloon’s, and the Community Center’s attics

Pierre, Caroline, and Abigail are a family with Spirits Eve colored hair and are therefore— Spooky~

Sometimes… when he’s tired of fish but still wants meat… Willy may eat… a bug steak 🥩

No one thought or knew that the farmer was going to ask someone to dance at the Flower Dance, and so they didn’t even think to get them a proper outfit for the occasion

Or no one had a spare outfit that fit the farmer and just didn’t care to get them one at that point

OR the farmer just outright didn’t want to wear the dance outfit because ew

We have no idea why they didn’t dress up for their own wedding though

The large candy canes placed around the town and sold as decorations at the Feast of the Winter Star and the Night Market are indeed edible 👍

I think that was already canon, but Gus why are you putting them in the dirt-

Shane was persuaded into getting Animal Crossing New Horizons. His island is full of chicken villagers plus Punchy.

Went feral and then sad for a hot minute upon learning of Hector’s existence and him not being in New Horizons

Grandpa’s bed, was in fact, a ping pong table 🏓

The farmer passing out at 2:00am at the latest and waking up at 6:00am at the earliest is a weird internal clock thing. Probably developed from working at Joja Co™️ all those years

Mr Qi personally sent that strange figure who sells the farmer a Farm Warp Totem to be there at the Night Market because he knows the farmer is gonna forget to check the time and then pass out on a mad dash back to the farm

Mr Qi also cannot possibly be human. What is he really? An elf? Vampire? Sorcerer? Snake hybrid? 7 Junimos in a trench coat? Just a man who spray paints himself blue for the aesthetic?

If you have ever seen Caroline’s tea cutscene, then you should know that the tea she drinks probably has a non-zero amount of cannabis in it.

Or maybe not… but like… why was there a lil squid person in there? Drinking tea aswell?? And disappeared with a puff of steam/smoke????

Actually- the tea she had was green, very sparkly and ripple-y. I bet Rasmodius had something to do with it. Because you know what happened with Rasmodius’s tree cutscene and uh… *cough* *cough* that other thing about the wizard-

Professor Snail has a snail under his hat named Mikey 🐌 that he picked up from the month he spent trapped in a cave

The kids of pelican town (Jas, Vincent, + Leo maybe) and the ASS trio (Abigail, Sam, Sebastian), are knowledgable of Krobus’s existence at least somewhat. Also Willy and Gunther 👌

Mr Qi eats Junimos🍏 ..sometimes-

Why? Because they’re like apples, he’s a mysterious son of a gun, and because these are crack headcanons that’s why-

Rasmodius is actively trying to get him magically banned from entering the community center and any other place currently occupied by them…

(spoiler?) …including Jojamart™️

Mr Qi’s outfit actually glows in the dark with a buncha tiny lights and glittery bits. Also shiny like a disco ball maybe ✨

Just hit him with a high powered flashlight and he becomes this ✨

Willy has seen the horrors 🐟

The Iridium bar required in the slime hutch, contrary to popular belief, is not just used as an extra brick for fun. Robin’s gotta smelt it down and add a lil bit of its essence to every stone making up the walls and foundation. (Hard work, y’know?). One bar is just enough to bless the hutch and requiring more seemed to be asking for too much.

Haley follow’s the Queen of Sauce’s Stardew equivalent of Instagram

Junimo Kart should not exist

The whole 100 floors down Skull Caverns was a ruse in an attempt to kill you, the farmer, but it failed because you didn’t die on the whole trip down and are also somehow immune to snake milk (venom). Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger I guess 🤷‍♂️🥛🐍

The farmer is indeed a cryptid. They don’t even breath

Instead of actual armor they instead rely on boots and rings for their protection??? They HAVE a hat, shirt, and pants slot, they CAN wear more armor than just boots if they had any but noooooooo. They like dancing with death so it seems

Actively just challenging Yoba to smite them: Being able to just consume food you really shouldn’t (ex. Void mayonnaise, mushrooms) and do it again once out of the hospital, Just carrying metal tools in thunderstorms, Being able to get hit by the valley’s train and brush it off, Repetitively going into the mines and Skull Caverns despite Harvey’s warnings, Drinking a weird unnatural drink offered by a mysterious stranger twice, also if they get their hands on it, carrying around freaking RADIOACTIVE ore without protection like it’s nothing????

Like I’m still not over the radioactive ore, even if I’ve never encountered it yet-

Also whatever the heck is happening on the Ginger Island dungeon? I’m pretty sure that’s lava everywhere in there??? And you just use your dinky watering can to cross it like no big deal??????

Stardew Valley so just so wild man

At least one person’s gonna be pissed at the farmer if they caught the legendary fish, put them in their fridge, and accidentally made sashimi with them. Maybe Gordy and Tex…

Also proof that the farmer is a cryptid is that they can catch all 5 legendary fish and their relatives without a sweat. Like Willy’s been at this for years. Also where do the relatives come from-

The fact that Pierre hates being given legendary fish is weird to me. I feel like that’s a boasting opportunity to have one in his funky lil shop.

I feel like Willy should also be happier than neutral upon being given the honor of owning one of these legendary fish. Or maybe he’s equally surprised as he is pissed that he wasn’t the one to do it and it cancels out.

Actually- maybe he catch and released? I’m too tired for this man

Gordy in The Fisherman Act ll is a wuss

The Crystalarium just can’t handle the Gay Shard’s power. Haley also can’t handle the Gay Shard apparently.

If you give a Junimo hut a Fairy Stone, are you just giving them the fossil of a long dead relative of theirs? Would that be weird?

If Abigail ate a fairy stone, would she be cursed by the fae for like… eating their crystallized bones

Forget what I said earlier about Emily wielding a parrot perch, she uses the unobtainable Holy Blade now- 🗡✨

If the farmer ever sees the green creature at the pelican town docks, just know that they probably hate you

Your dad probably has a rock collection. Why else is he sending you quality stones

#just your usual Wednesday afternoon crack headcanons #I had most of this done earlier but it didn’t feel long enough so eh. here you are #I haven’t reached Ginger island yet. or played Stardew in a while tbh. oof #my stoof #signatured #a portion of this is just me rambling about how weird sdv is tbh #my writing #sdv #stardew valley #did you know. that I have not died once in my whole stardew play through so far. I did the 100 floors challenge too!#I’m not counting passing out at 2am. because that’s happened at least twice #once on my own farm and another trapped in a spiral level of the mines after loosing track of time #Robin was legit building a coop next to me when I passed out too and Joja STILL charged me for it!

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happysadyoyo · 6 months

Text

Want something in between squishy soft HD and TL whump rn so here we go with some clone au shenanigans. Anyway, for shits and giggles, Moon gets to join security patrol at night before he's infected cause why not? He gets so little as the naptime attendant.

The first time you meet Moon it's because you managed to get locked inside the pizzaplex after hours. It takes you a minute to process that you're locked in, sort of blankly staring at the metal shutters keeping you inside.

"It's past your naptime," a voice says from behind you in a low, almost hissing manner, and you jump, lashing out with one of your crutches reflexively. Honestly, it'd be more accurate to say you lashed out with your arm, and the crutch just followed, attached as it was to said arm. Either way, it hit your target with a jarring metallic thunk that vibrated all the way up to your shoulder and teeth, rattling you.

Meanwhile, your would-be assaulter swings back and forth on its wire, dramatically holding its chest. "I've been had!" He drops to the ground, clearly "dying" from the blow.

You scowl when you recognize Moon from its posters, leaning on your other crutch. When you make no effort to respond to his theater, he sits up, watching you with mismatched eyes. "You shouldn't be here."

You just stare. You know this already, so what's the point of it telling you?

"You're the one that doesn't speak." Moon leans forward, over you, menacing in its height. You stare up at it blankly before using a crutch to push it back. You're not gentle. Moon rolls away, tucking into a ball instead of giving a proper backflip. It still pops up dramatically, like a gymnast giving their final bow, and you roll your eyes.

The Daycare Attendant is a jester. You really shouldn't be surprised by the dramatics. You just don't think it would be particularly amused if it knew the last time you actually laughed.

"You are skilled with your sword," Moon says, its tone teasing as it inches closer, safely out of range. "I'll need maintenance soon if you don't leave."

You gesture at the shuttered doors in irritated response. It's not like you want to be standing here being semi-lectured by a robotic nanny. You're tired and confused and your feet hurt and you are pretty sure you missed the bus that usually picks you up to go home. You're going to have to email them and it took forever to get an email back because it's a publicly funded service and meanwhile Uber and Lyft are so expensive so what money you earn will be gone so, so quickly.

"Hey." A metallic finger brushes over your cheek and you jump, landing badly and falling directly on your ass. Now everything hurts, and you let out a choked breath, unstrapping one crutch to wipe hard at your eyes.

Moon crouches, a hand out but not touching. You lean away, and its hand drops. "You need rest. A drink. There is tea in the employee break room."

Tea? You wipe your eyes again, not even trying to move. It would be useless until your nerves calm a bit and you can try to ease the tension in your muscles. It's the stress making you hurt, you tell yourself. Just the stress, nothing more.

"Let's get you tea." And it moves in before you have a chance to defend yourself, scooping you up with ease. You grab at it's shoulder, fingers failing to find a grip as it walks with a long, surprisingly smooth gait to the atrium. You grab at its collar but are still ignored.

Finally, you get the idea to tug on Moon's nightcap. The tail of it swing around behind, and you figured it would work like Sun's rays, jerking Moon's head back so you couldn't be ignored any longer. Instead it just. Came off. Like a hat. Leaving Moon bald.

You were so surprised you actually dropped it and stared over Moon's shoulder at the abandoned crutch and hat. A trail of items like Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs. Did that make Moon the witch, and the tea its gingerbread house?

Moon continued on, oblivious to the loss of its hat, and you finally just go with it. You could probably limp your way back to your crutch later, after whatever adventure you were being kidnapped to do. Moon continues right on past the glamrocks' dressing rooms, utterly ignored by the bandmates.

The attendant looks so different from the others. Was it even meant to be here?

The final goal, apparently, is a small lounge you'd never seen. Moon puts you down gently enoufh, but even that jostles you and you grimace, resettling on this overly plush, threadbare, ugly orange couch tucked by the vending machines. Moon is working, poking around the cabinets as it hums a lullaby, then a song you don't recognize. You're not going anywhere soon, so you slowly unstrap your remaining crutch from your arm, still holding the handle just in case.

Moon found a box and mug, its song punctuated with pleased delight. Apparently the water cooler was also a heater, and the animatronic's attention was fully back on you. "Drink this."

You breathe heavily through your nose in response, but you do take the mug. It's warm. And the tea does smell good. Mint and something else. You don't know much about tea. You take a sip, scalding your lips and tongue. The burning liquid feels good though, warming you even if it doesn't ease the stress holding you stuff. You take another sip, watching Moon over the lip of the mug.

Is it aware of how silly it looks without its hat? It squats a safe distance away, watching you, its flat face slowly rotating like a clock. Before it could get a full 90 degrees it paused and began to rotate the other way. Was it… thinking? Processing?

Either way, it felt weird to be sitting while it squatted like that. Maybe you were anthropomorphizing it too much, but you pat at the seat next to you. When it doesn't move, even its head slowing its rotation, you pat the seat harder. "You are sure? I don't wish to incur the wrath of your blade again."

The fact it still is playing the villain in some knight story? Whatever. You roll your eyes and nod, returning to the tea. It's kinda nice. You can almost (almost) forget what a pain it's gonna be to get home.

Moon does sit, surprisingly careful so you don't immediately roll into his space. He's still heavy, so you're drawn in regardless, trying not to spill your tea. You keep drinking, the silence only punctuated by the humming of the fridge and water cooler. If you focus on that and the warmth of your tea… you're starting to drift off.

Wait. This had been a trick! You try to glare at Moon, but all you can manage is a yawn.

Moon, for its part, is grinning down at you. Like, beyond its usual frozen smile type of grinning. "You've figured it out, haven't you?" He teaches past you, snagging your crutch. You try to protest, but it's faster, and it sets it just out of reach. "Nap time. You need rest."

Like you weren't going to sleep when you got home. And your painkillers are there too!" You've definitely been kidnapped. But it's not an especially cruel kidnapping. Minus when you wake up.

"Sleep," Moon says and you're not sure you will truly, but you will rest, and you will make fun of how he looks without his hat later. For now you'll sleep and worry about the rest later.

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@pillowspace I feel like a cat bringing you my latest catch with pride. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope to keep writing well. v.v

#clone au #dca #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf daycare au

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lunarharp · 10 months

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scribblezone

#witch hat tag #orufrey #just thinking about oru's 'we're finally living under the same roof' from the kitchen spin-off again. Gayest line in the whole thing #not in a great mood atm so i cant focus on anything proper..#.. it kinda looks like qif's putting his arm in a pot of stew in the last one. well hes not.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Returning customer - Morpheus x Witch!Reader

Continuation to [Welcome to Moon Siren Horticulture!]

SUMMARY: That strange, brooding customer is back and, just as you wished, no children or curses are involved. Your new neighbours make themselves known.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

“Sir, unless you provide me with proper documents, I can’t sell you a Liverstone. That’s the law,” you explain slowly. There is hardly a simpler way to get your point across. Nevertheless, the man seems to miss it entirely. In turn, his lack of understanding makes you miss the bright ringing of the doorbell as someone has just walked into the store.

“Come on, lady.” Here comes another pitiful shot at haggling. “Do I look like a maniac? I’m not going to do anything stupid or illegal with it.” Interesting that he would suggest such a course of events when you haven’t even pointed to a suspicion of this kind. People often say that it is the thief who is most afraid of being robbed. Perhaps folk wisdom isn’t always wrong.

“It’s not a matter of belief, sir,” you answer sternly. Somewhere behind him, you can see a head of black, dishevelled hair but the enigmatic visitor seems to exist only when you’re directly paying attention to him. The moment you look back at the discoloured face and bloodshot eyes belonging to the cultist, the existence of the yet unknown client immediately disappears from your thoughts. “Until I receive a signed confirmation from your High Priestess, I’m lawfully prohibited from selling you this.”

The man puts his clasped, shaking hands on the counter in front of you as if he’s about to say something off-record. It’s hard to say whether the trembling is brought by nervousness or withdrawals. “Look, Lady Helena is swamped lately. She asked me to get a Liverstone, while she’s busy preparing for the festival. You know Lady Helena, she’s going to be very upset if she hears you pawned me off.” The cultist gives you a meaningful look, although all of its reasonability or seriousness is long forgotten because of the clearly deranged gloss covering his eyes. Some part of you doubts Lady Helena even knows he’s here. Does she have any idea how far gone his addiction is?

“And Lady Helena knows me.” You’re not giving up, both for his and your own’s sake. “I’m sure she’ll understand that I can’t sell it without proper documentation.”

For some reason, it is at this moment that the other customer decides to step in. In the black dishevelled hair and a heavy coat, you recognize the mysterious man that had visited your shop a while ago. He puts his hand on the red-eyed man’s shoulder. The cultist furrows his eyebrows and slowly turns around. His eyes mindlessly search the other man’s face as though it’s taking him a significant amount of time to recognize him as a human or at least a humanoid.

When the excruciatingly slow process comes to an end, the cultist opens his eyes wide. Clearly, the enigmatic man in a coat is not unfamiliar to him. Suddenly rejuvenated, the addict takes off his top hat.

“My good lord Morpheus!” he exclaims in disbelief.

‘Morpheus?’ you repeat in your head. ‘Could it be…?’

The cultist reaches for the man’s other hand, shaking it vigorously in an overly-excited show of politeness. Although Morpheus appears to be reluctant about the gesture, he doesn’t withdraw his arm.

“As I live and breath!” the man says as he continues his obnoxious pleasantries. “This is such an honour! I will be much obliged to tell my fellow professionals about it.”

“You really shouldn’t, Theodore Hearson,” Morpheus speaks patiently in a low voice. “Go home, soon you’ll feel better.”

The cultist immediately drops his vigorous hand-shaking. He ponders for a moment, staring blankly into space. “Yes… yes, I should go. Good day to you.” Then, he puts his hat back on, tips it to Morpheus and leaves the store, Liverstone long forgotten. You have befriended either an exceptional diplomat or a top-notch sorcerer, it seems.

Not wanting to seem shaken up with the miraculous persuasion, you welcome Morpheus as you would a regular client: “Welcome back. How can I help you?”

“I’m in need of your help once more. My friend is looking for a plant that might have killed someone.” As his low voice makes the marrow in your bones vibrate, he pulls out a folded note from his pocket and hands it to you.

Before you can even take in the information hastily scribbled on the torn piece of paper, you notice the striking familiarity of the style in which the letters are written - you’ve seen it countless times before. “Hey, I know this handwriting. It’s Johanna Constantine’s.”

His eyebrows raise unnoticeably. “You know her?”

“She does regular ‘pest control’ for me.”

“What interest could demons have in a plant shop?”

“It’s not really interest per se,” you explain. “The soil of more delicate plants should be fertilised with crushed soul stones and although they’re shards, demons still can reside in them. Selling a haunted flower gets the license revoked, so I’m not risking it.”

You’re about to look down on the note again, this time focused on putting together the information Johanna could give you, when a booming thud resounded above your head. Again. The sound is followed by heavy footsteps and something like a muffled growl.

“Speaking of risk…” you say under your breath. As though you could see through the walls, you look at the ceiling expectantly.

“Something’s troubling you?”

“Hard to say, really.” You look at Morpheus again. “There’s a new store opening up there, The Blind Gorgon. They sell cryptids mainly. Arcane Weekly wrote about them some time ago. People and cattle were getting strangled in some village in Russia and when the Emissaries of Ilharin went to investigate, it turned out that the owner of the store had a wild bukavac in the cellar. Before the Russian bureau of Emissaries could pin the guy as a suspect, he closed the shop and disappeared. Go figure.” You give him a dismissive shrug but a creature of his sort is far too smart to be deceived by something like that.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips. You shake your head but it’s more of a way to shake off the sudden disturbance rather than a show of your dissatisfaction with new neighbours.

“Anyway.” You look at the note properly this time. “Red flower, pine aroma, growing out of a corpse?” you read. Although the amount of information is scarce, it’s enough for you to immediately know the answer to the charades. “It’s Devil’s Nightcap. Nasty way to go. The thing is, the victim had to ingest the seed for the plant to grow and kill them but you can’t buy them. Whoever did this, owns a Devil’s Nightcap, which, no surprise, is a heavily restricted plant. A warlock, a sorcerer, an alchemist, maybe a healer,” you count all the possibilities. “Or a horticulturist, of course.” In a vague motion, you point to yourself.

Morpheus takes the note back from you. Deliberately or not, his fingers linger on yours for a strangely long period of time. “In what currency does Johanna usually pay you?” He wastes no time getting straight to the point.

“We barter,” you answer flustered. Nervously, you rub your hands against your gardening apron. Maybe you’re reading a bit too much into his gesture? “I do favours for her pro bono and she gives me a discount for her service. Besides, it’s bad luck to take money from exorcists.”

He loiters for a moment as though he’s considering saying or doing something more. Whatever calculation he made in his head, Morpheus apparently decided against continuing the tense interaction. He’s about to turn around, leave your store, when you stop him:

“I wanted to thank you again for getting rid of the nightmares brought by Widow’s Woe. The day you came here I had my first restful sleep in years.”

Morpheus’s face lights up. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What did you dream of?”

“It was quite strange, actually.” You scrunch your nose remembering the vision. “I found myself in a meadow where flowers I’d never seen before grew. I think there was also a black cat.”

“That’s a nice dream,” he says in an uncharacteristic, soft voice.

You’re not sure what it is about his sudden tenderness that makes you blush. “Yes, I think so, too.”

Morpheus leaves the store and the quietness of the plants is unbearable for the first time in decades.

#morpheus imagine #morpheus sandman #morpehus #lord morpheus #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream the endless #dream of the endless #dream #dream of the endless x reader #sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman #the sandman netflix

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