#Creepy fawn plush

[xxxecuted]

[squibbles-gubwee]

Sgshsvsb Well!! It's been a slow day at work so i worked on this lmao. I hope you enjoy. @tmntredline @0ddbugs @coffinpal

"Who's this little friend?"

Cool eyes blinked and looked up, spotting a particular peachy furred mutant. She smiled at Rook, and he looked back down, studying the tangerine-coloured leg being stitched onto the green body. He pulled the needle through, before prodding the seam with thick fingers and frowning. He doubled back to take care of the too-large holes he left behind with messy stitches.

"Hello again, Master Splinter. I uh… It's a cattywampus..."

"A cattywampus?"

Splinter sat down, a chair's distance between the two as she watched the man pick up the needle back up and immediately poke his thumb. The mother had snuck off this way when she spotted the blue haired human, and…well, while she wasn't using him for his access to tea, she wouldn't deny her appreciation for it. 

Her eyes flicked over towards the two paper cups from the concessions full of hot water. One was already steeping with an oolong, and there were three tea bag sachets laid out for her to choose from. 

…Did he expect her to follow him? Or was this just in case she surprised him with a visit?

(Honestly, she was a bit surprised herself. She hadn't known their group was watching this competition as well!)

"Yeah! It's, um…well, growin' up, it was like…a mish-mash monster. A beast of broken parts. I had one with floppy ears and six legs that my grandmother made for me. Lots are made from old torn up stuffies, instead of throwin' em out." The wonky, unfinished plush was lifted up, and its boxy head flopped to the side. Rook's nose scrunched in thought. "Probably for the best that it's uh…kinda messy. I think the last time I'd sewn something was in my teens…"

"How do you keep finding these breakrooms you aren't likely supposed to be in, hm?" Splinter gave a wry grin as she slid a cup closer and grabbed the cinnamon rooibos chai.

The bulky man gestured vaguely to his faux leg. "I just say I need to remove it and people give me space. Mais…I, uh, do need it off for a bit. It's killing my hip. Are you alright with…?"

Splinter waved the notion off quickly, and the human sighed in relief as he released the prosthetic limb, removing it and setting the leg on the chair opposite of him.

"Thanks. I guess a storm's coming."

"It's no trouble, do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

The two lapsed back into quiet, the fawn-furred lady taking in the moment of quiet as the navy-haired therapist turned the toy this way and that. Tang Shen took a sip of her tea, frowned, and allowed it to steep a while longer. She wished she had a bit of milk to pair with it, but it seemed fine without.

Rook liked that about Master Splinter. Normally he was painfully awkward around other folks his age. Working with kids and teens all day every day did that to you. But she was quite easy to talk to. The silences weren't harsh, and he had no real pressure to talk. She laughed when he said something about rug time instead of sneering.

(It's why he decided to just keep quiet about what he saw in that hall. He hadn't meant to find her, and instead decided space would be what the distressed woman most likely need. So, he kept quiet, and he would keep quiet.)

"So, why a cattywampus?" 

If she were closer to the human, she'd tease him for the red that bloomed on his face. 

"Well…They're sorta like gargoyles."

Her whiskers twitched at that. "Oh? How so?"

"Well, gargoyles are supposed to protect places and ward off evil, no? It's why they're on so many old buildings and stuff. Catawampus are kinda like that. They're supposed to protect their owners by scaring off bad spirits because they're tataille- creepy little monsters."

"He's going to be a pretty poor cattywampus, then. He's adorable."

Rook snickered at that. "Eh, I think he'll do just fine. I also stuffed a satchel of lavender in his belly. Put a silica pouch in it to keep the buds dry."

"Oh my, I thought that was your tea!" She gasped, gingerly taking the little beast. "How cute. He's sure to make one of your sons happy."

The red haired woman heard a choked noise and looked back over, laughing a bit at how Rook seemed to get embarrassed again. "I-T-gh. Th. They are not my sons."

"Aren't they?"

"No. Heaven's sake, miss, I'm just their therapist."

There was a knowing look in the woman's eye, but she opted not to say anything. After all, no therapist she knew of would do something like let their patients take them on an interdimensional trip to watch a bake off or a hockey game. Instead, she acquiesced, and quietly sipped her tea, brushing a strand of ruddy hair from her face.

He'd figure it out eventually.

"Still. Whichever one that's for, he's sure to love it."

The human hummed as he doubled back and reworked another seam of the half-stuffed creature. He still needed to make sure to put the rest of the fillings in later. He'd hide the fill seam with the bat wings he did up. "I hope so. I worry it's a little too childish…"

"Well… I like him," Splinter hummed, the tip of her tail hooking around the strap of Rook's bag and pulling it closer to him when she saw him reach. "I think he's a charming gift! You put a lot of care into him. Besides, I don't think something is childish just because it's a cute toy."

Rook smiled a bit as he fished out the large buttons he found that he thought would make good eyes. "Yeah…I guess you're right."

Days later (Days? had it been days? time moved so strangely in these places...) while she was heading back to the locker room, Tang Shen spotted her sons behaving perfectly normally. Leonardo was reviewing dance moves, Michelangelo was talking about baking and ratios with Donatello, and Raphael was wrapping his knees. Perfectly normal.

Perfectly suspicious.

Narrowing her eyes some, the mother stared for a moment. Leo started bouncing his leg. Mikey smiled wider. Donatello's eyes widened a bit, looking more innocent. Raphael turned his head away and went to wrap his other knee.

Perfectly guilty. They were up to something. Shen would find out what it was after she changed into some clothes she could bake in-

She could smell lavender.

Deft, clawed fingers opened the metal latch of the locker-

…only for her vermillion eyes to lock with large, slightly skewed, butterscotch yellow ones. A smudge of red below each one made her think of the red lines she and her sons were so well known for (apparently), and the tangerine stripes on the thick plush tail matched the mismatched legs.

Delicately, Master Splinter plucked the cattywampus plush up, looking over the stitches that made up the zig-zag mouth on his mint-coloured head. He was much fuller, with a bit of a pleasing heft to him. Her heightened hearing could pick up the soft, rain-like sound of small beads tumbling over one another in part of his belly and legs. The floral smell was much stronger now, but not unbearably so. She opened the velcro hidden under his tiny wings and found where Rook had tucked away the pouch of dried buds.

How utterly sweet.

"I have the perfect name for you," Splinter hummed, lifting the creature up so she could look into those yellow buttons and jaggedy smile. The big eyes gleamed in the fluorescent lights, and her own crinkled from her smile.

"King."

[runawaycarouselhorse]

I will never, ever, ever understand why Deerling is not more popular, but I'm glad the BW! anime gives them so much love and they fill the forest bordering Nuvema Town. They're often in crowd scenes in the Best Wishes! anime, to the point that a user on here has managed to identify that BW! takes place in about half a year because the Deerling are consistently in Spring form in the first half and Summer form in the second half. ;3; (Deerling pixel art by ohdeerling--but the post has been deleted!)

So darling. So sweet. I have never loved a Pokemon this much before... and I'm very fond of the entire Litwick line. I love most fox Pokemon, love Eevee and Vulpix and Ninetales.

But Deerling... cute pastel fawns with flowers... their big, innocent eyes! Their cute, delicate, little limbs. Their adorable fluffy tails!

I think Deerling, various Grass, Fairy, and Ghost types are unique among my top favourites because I didn't become attached to them via a favourite human/trainer in the anime, but just for themselves. Like, I got attached to Arbok and Dustox because of Jessie training them (Arbok even made me love real life snakes and Dustox made me stop fearing moths!), but I wouldn't have likely fallen for them without loving their trainer first...

(Dancing Mawile animation by abgallery. ^^)

Before the introduction of the Fairy type, I used to just say I had Lass-like tastes in Pokemon, fff. Mostly the cute, pink, and round ones... Alcremie is another top Fairy favourite, but so is Mawile! If a Pokemon has both creepiness and cuteness going for it, that's ideal. The creepy-cute Fairy Tale Girls class is one I feel suits me more now!

I have always loved, for instance, many Ghost types because of my fondness for horror... I'm especially fond of Frillish, I find it elegant and beautiful, yet also adorable. I love their fairy tale royalty aesthetics, I love their cute, dainty lashes, their little crowns, their veil-like fluttering tendrils/tentacles, their ability to paralyze prey with their venomous embrace... even if I'm not fond of their evolved forms.

I adore so many Grass types that look like flowers, including the similar underrated (in my opinion) Hoppip line, Bellossom and Lilligant! They're cute, darling, and refreshing to look at.

Togepi was a childhood favourite, alongside Eevee and Mew, because of how adorable and baby-like I found it in the anime. I always loved the idea of being a mother, so Togepi was endearing!! I still have a Hasbro reversible Togepi plush from 1998. I took her with me before I began my first paying job in June of 2022. ^^

But I've never been so attached to a Pokemon that any time I see it, I feel this big of a burst of joy, and feel like it's truly mine, like I do Deerling. I'm almost happy it isn't absurdly popular, because it makes collecting it a lot easier, if there isn't much to collect. ^^;;;; A few plushies (Sitting Cuties, Jakks Pacific standing, musical--different sizes, different Season forms), a bunch of smaller and more cheaply made kid's toys, Jakks Pacific action figures, keychains, stickers, and trading cards.

(Deerling pixel art by starfruut.) I don't even want a huge collection, I'm happy with just a few pieces I really like, I love Spring Deerling most of all, but Autumn Deerling also grew on me.

[jeweledstone]

I had a dream last night involving me and my Spamton plushie ending up in this bayside city/town of sorts that I have vague memories of going to in a previous dream (location wise I think the place was somewhere near the coast of Italy, a rare occurrence where I know exactly where I am geography wise in a dream). It was all just normal dream shenanigans for the most part but one bit that stood out was near the end where Plush!Spam got separated from me and I went looking to find him. When I found him, he seemed to be being attacked by this creepy haunted doll in a little tattered wedding dress. I remember getting this kinda mid-dream context in my head that said haunted doll (apparently known as “The Black Widow” by locals) was known for trying to “eat” any other toys/dolls/plushies it was left alone with and outta pure protective instinct, yanked Spam outta the doll’s hands. Turns out, in an ironically funny twist, the Widow wasn’t actually trying to eat Spam but was instead madly in love with him (wtf girl get some higher standards lol) and was fawning over him Pepe Le Pew style. Which sucks for her since Spam was absolutely TERRIFIED of her, so much so that he begged me to [[WAKE UP]] and get us outta there as soon as he was back in my arms again.

The following hypnagogic auditory hallucination I had upon waking up was basically the Widow mourning over loss of her beloved “groom” and vowing to stop at nothing until she found him again, which made both me and Spam extremely uncomfortable.

So yeah, that’s it for now. Also I drew a few things based off this dream here they are:

I changed the way I draw my Spamton plushie so he could look more expressive in my art btw

[toyarchive]

Wild republic - Wild watchers - Modified Deer and Giraffe

Features: These are modified items with extra horns, eyes, and piercings.

- Bought these from a Vinnies, creator unknown, unique plushies, most likely one of a kind.

Size: 19cm tall

Date: 2010

[normanblowup]

Far In The Woods

Fae!Skwisgaar Skwigelf x reader

Summary: the reader moves back to their old childhood home and see their old ‘imaginary’ friend.

Warnings: possibly unreality? Reader believes something isn't real when it is, lying/trickery, also fear (skwis plays harp not guitar.. And is also sort of creepy)

Words: 1547 (this one doesn’t feel as finished as nathan’s but i still like it. also it’s my first skwis fic!)

A/n: I was intrigued so I drew fae Skwisgaar and decided he was gonna get his own story :) now I'm thinking they all need a story with similar titles so that it's a series :D (if y'all don't know the whole thing with names and faes: if you tell a fae your name they pretty much gain control of you, and it's the same the other way. If you learn theirs, you own them. Sort of, I'm not an expert.)

——

The woods behind your house growing up had always been your favorite place to play, no matter how much your parents told you to stay away. You'd never found danger there so what was the point in staying away? There were only the sparse deer and squirrels. And of course, there were the tall, ever-reaching trees.

Looking up at the sky, full of the green, brown, and white of limbs reaching for the sun, was an activity you often did inside of the woods. Nothing could beat that sight.

Now that you're older, and you've moved into the old childhood home --as your parents had moved out long ago, moving off to Florida for retirement-- you feel a call to the woods like before. You vaguely remember an imaginary friend of yours; an angel, you used to tell your parents. He had long, flowing golden hair and wings that could reach the sun, much like the trees that he held so dear. It makes you laugh thinking about your once active imagination, you don't often get the same kind of creative ideas you used to.

As you scrub away at the dishes in your sink, you look out the window and gaze into the edge of the woods. It's almost like the trees sway and bend towards you, beckoning you to them. A thought passes through your mind without permission: ‘I wonder if He misses me?’

It's a sad, strange thought and it makes a sense of longing swell in your chest. You decide to go into the woods, just to walk around, tomorrow. The moon cast light through the tips of the trees, squirrels rush about and climb to their respective homes. You dry your hands and head up to bed yourself. The night is full of hazy dreams, images of multiple hands, multiple eyes, and strange gold light.

Waking up the next day, your chest feels heavy and you lug yourself all around, doing your chores begrudgingly. Soon enough, you're outside. Your boots touch the foliage around the forest line, creeping so close but too afraid to step farther. All those warnings your parents whispered to you come crashing back into the forefront of your mind. Do they hold some semblance of truth?

You step forward and are pulled in further, step after step you walk. It's not long till you’re standing above a creek, it's water rushing below you and your heart thumping in rhythm with each splash.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the gold light, the warm and spectacular light you used to fawn over. But it wasn't real, was it? Nothing like the being you used to play with could possibly exist in the real world, it was just you're overactive, childish imagination. And it's you're overactive, childish imagination now as you look on and see a grey-blue feather float to the soft, plush grass. He wings were that color, weren't they? It was a pigeons, it had to be.

The light saunters off around a tree and disappears, like it was never there in the first place. Another feather falls next to the other, seemingly out of thin air and it makes your lungs constrict just watching it. You step on a row of rocks and cross the stream, stopping just in front of the two surprisingly large feathers.

You crouch down and hold one between your fingers, twirling it around and inspecting the deep color. It ombres from a lighter grey-blue, to a darker blue and it's almost magical looking at them. You've never seen a bird with these kinds of feathers, the pigeon comparison is practically insulting, but you do remember seeing one thing with these feathers. Oh, your angel, your angel.

His long arms, all four of them, are probably the most memorable thing about him besides the wings. The hugs you used to get from him made up for all the hardships you experienced growing up. You suddenly remember how often he used to ask you to come back when you were older... Maybe he's what's calling you to the woods? Or at least the thought of him.

But it's hard to keep telling yourself he's just a thought when you see a hoof enter your line of vision. You look away from the feather and stare at the pale skin and hard hooves in front of you, your eyes trail his legs and stop at his abdomen. He still wears little clothing, only a long flowing white cloth that is inconceivably staying in place.

The flecks of gold that litter his skin shine brightly under the hot sun above. His four peircing eyes stay locked on your fear-stricken face. And it's not til his rumbling voice floats through your ears do you snap out of your stupor.

“Hellos, little ones.” He smiles widely, his perfect lips stretching in the most attractive way you've ever seen. No human could ever compare, it dawns on you that maybe he's supposed to be this beautiful, that he's supposed to make you long for him. Even as a child, he was the only thing you wanted to befriend. But now it's not quite the same feeling.

You look into his eyes and stand up slowly, he's easily over seven feet tall. It didn't feel intimidating before but now it terrifies you. Is he happy to see you? Is he even real? Did you fall and hit your head in the creek? No, this isn't a hallucination or a dream, it's too good to be that.

“Little ones? You happy's to see me?” He smirks and it smacks you into action. You jump and run off in the direction of your house, but the woods start changing. The trees get up and move and suddenly you don't know where you are. And he's right behind you again. A scream rips it's way through your throat. “Is dats anyway to talks to an olds friend?”

He grunts as one of his gentle hands turns you around. He let's his hand slide down to your own, he pulls you along deeper into the trees. You're trembling at this point, all that trust you had as a child has been replaced with an adult feeling of apprehension and fear.

“Wills you tells me your name this times ‘round?” He asks and his fangs, not dissimilar to that of a vampires, glint in the sunlight. His smile hasn't stopped being attractive but his words still fill you with dread, you're parents warnings of creatures in the woods start to ring true. You vaguely remember their talks of tricksters and things wanting to gain control over you while you run around the trees.

“N-no.” You're shaky answer does nothing to dissuade him.

“I’ll tells you mine if you tells me yours firsts.” He chuckles quietly and clutches all four, strong hands to your arms. “Tells me yours name, you trusts me.”

“No.” You say more decidedly. You somehow break free from his relentless grip and step back a few feet.

“Fines. We can still plays, ja?” He tilts his head to the side in question. Does he mean like you used to? Does he not realize you're a whole adult now? You don't play anymore. “Does you still plays? I could plays you my harp, like before.”

His voice seems to shake as he steps forward, it's like he's afraid you'll leave again. How could that be? It wasn't long ago he was trying to trick you into giving up all your free will to him. His long flowing gold locks slide off his shoulder as he leans increasingly forward. His face is right next to yours but the rest of his body is two feet away.

“You’re not real.” You grunt but it only serves to make him laugh. It's a hearty laugh and it makes doom settle in your stomach. “L-let me go home.”

“No. I'll plays my harp fors you.” He gently grips your hand in his and leads you over to a moss riddled cave. There are various flowers and plants growing up the sides of the cave and having off the ceiling. “Donts be afraid, please?”

You look at him incredulously but don't answer, only stepping into the rather large cave in tandem. It's warm and makes you a little sleepy, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins keeps you wide awake. A moss and leaves bed lays in the corner, next to a large golden harp. You don't remember this place.

His large frame sits down quickly on the moss-mattress and pulls you with him. You gasp and try to wriggle away but you can't.

You're pressed to his chest as he pulls the harp close and starts plucking the strings, making up a song as he goes. It's fairly good, it calms you even though you don't want it to.

“Tells me yours name, little ones. I promise I’ll tells you mine, I won't hurts you.”

The harp lulls you into a false sense of security, and it's not long before you're mumbling your name to him. He smiles so widely, in utter triumph... But he stays true to his promise, unlike many others of his kind, and he whispers back:

“My names is Skwisgaar.”

[wilhellmine]

Dollhouse Adventures No. 2 - Haunted Barn

Hi there! Today we are gonna meet Wulfies best friends - the two sisters, Fawn and Owl - 

Fawn is the older sister, she is named after Fawn from the Tinkerbell movie. Fawn likes animals of all kinds...

...and cars XD

Owl is the younger sister, her name is Owl because, well... she is an owl XD she likes nature...

...and visiting the house of her two friends, the Man and the Woman...

These two girls are waiting for Wulfie to furnish her house, so they can also move in and finally be able to live like two normal dolls. They are currently living in the “monster box” on the bedroom shelf, sharing the purple box with various halloween toys (like ghosts, bats, haunted houses made from plush etc) and believe me, they hate that, because its really overcrowded there.

After a long time of watching Ghost Adventures and Sam and Colby they decided to also do a scary investigation. Fawn and Owl went to visit a haunted barn.

The haunted barn is currently located in the bathroom XD but it has the ability to change its position and it randomly appears mostly in the kitchen, sometimes in the bedroom too.

So, Fawn and Owl decided to visit this place and find out what is hiding inside.

The two of them were talking about the scary history of this barn. “The lore says that it collapses every time you try to put it in a box when you are cleaning up, so you need to build it up over and over again, every f-king day,” Fawn says.

“I heard that building it up for the first time was so difficult, that the owner was about to cry actually,” Owl adds a creepy detail to the story.

Little did they know that the barn is infested with many scary creatures!

The most dangerous one was a big ass spider, waiting to jump on anybody whos dumb enough to enter.

Of course, Fawn and Owl went in and walked through the whole place, not being afraid of any of the monsters hiding inside, because these two girls do not fear anything.

“This place is actually really cool, sis,” Fawn said. “I think Im gonna bring the big spider home with me.”

“Greath idea, sis,” Owl replies, “and Im gonna bring this cute orange ghost with me!”

And they did as they said. The two sister left the haunted barn, bringing a big spider and an orange ghost home with them.

And thats it for today! Stay tuned for the next episode, because Wulfie is about to add some detail to her, still empty :-/ house :D 

[catharrington]

I don't know if you have time/desire for more catboy but if you do...

Steve getting something gross stuck in his fur (maybe Billy's bubble gum or some candy?) and Steve's trying to contort himself to clean it, but it's in a spot he just can't quite reach so they have to figure out how to get it off when a bath just makes it worse.

Time? None at all. Desire?? Overflowing with it, babe!!

Oh my gosh let me take this opportunity to enjoy some Halloween time!! I imagine cat boy Steve loves Halloween because hey free built in costume he always wears! Him and other cat people just have the best All Hallows ever!

Steve didn’t have much when he first came to Billy’s, just the ears on his head and the collar that got unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Billy convinced him to go shopping together once, and Steve didn’t care for it much. Felt far too close to a date, too close to what he wanted from Billy— but not what the other wanted from him.

So soon billy just started leaving money on the coffee table where he could. Small amounts. Just enough for Steve to use it to feel some sort of independence. Because billy was stepping far too over the line— no way Steve actually wanted to be in a serious relationship with the guy he nicknamed ‘kidnapper’.

Halloween was different, Halloween was everything goes. Steve had gotten a job at a library just down the Main Street of town, not a 5 minute walk from their apartment. He would sit behind the counter tapping his long nails across a hard back book, most days, using his pointy ears and flicking tail to point out teenagers making too much noise. And the older woman who worked there all fawned over him.

He took the later evening shift, he said it was to help the old bats out, also I’m by myself! Don’t have to worry about them touching my ears or calling me ‘kitty’ to my face!

He would stumble home every day with his ears low on his floppy brown hair, and his shoulder bag filled with books across his chest.

Billy told him he shouldn’t be walking that late at night, don’t care how far, makes me worried someone might want a pretty cat like you?

And Steve would laugh, strip down to a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he stole from Billy, giggling the whole time, and lay down so his head is on Billy’s chest. Let those rough from work hands relax the tension in the muscles around his ears.

They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. They felt like two jigsaw puzzle pieces meeting. And those don’t have to talk to know they fit.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see the side of Steve that wasn’t soft sweaters or library books. Wasn’t a fierce independence acting as a wall againt the trauma of abandonment. Of abuse.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see Steve in a skin tight black cat suit. Designed for cat boys and bought because there’s a bar right down the block from the library and it’s free drinks for cats tonight! I’ve just got to go, Billy, that’s so rad!

Halloween was when Billy followed Steve around, not the other way around. Pulled out an old leather jacket he was surprised still fit him at all. Didn’t talk about the way Steve was going for an all black look but didn’t make any move to take off the brown leather collar Billy got him as an apology gift.

Didn’t talk about the way the wet look pleather on Steve’s cat suit matched. Didn’t mention they looked like a couple. That Billy might hinder Steve if he’s looking to ride a dick that night.

No, he just smiled and walked arm in arm down the block as the sun set. Pretty oranges and red filling the sky. Leaves crunching underfoot the same color as Steve’s pretty hair, all styled up with hairspray and perfect as could be.

The building is lit up with strings of bright purple, a lime green naked bulb sits in the front door where a bouncer stands and collects Billy’s head fee while Steve just flicks his tail to get it.

The bar is crowded with ghouls, and goblins, witches line the bar with their pointy hats. Decorated with arching white spider webs.

Billy knows Steve really only drinks wine because it actually tastes good unlike the piss Billy drinks, so he ain’t surprised when he orders some candy-apple monstrosity. Laps it up with his devilish pink tongue when he gets it. Catches Billy watching over the rim of his tall beer glass.

Steve downs the martini in one gulp before grabbing Billy around the hand, pulling him with a naughty glint in his eye towards the dance floor.

He turns around, moves Billy’s hands around his hips, purrs dance with me, nice and slow?

In a question that doesn’t sound like a question. His tail wrapping possessively around Billy’s legs. Billy groans back, right into the chocolate fudge swirl of his sensitive ear, set the pace, pretty cat, you know I’m good for it.

They let go for song after song, rolling into the next like their bodies roll. Billy’s belt buckle shimmering and catching against the fabric of Steve’s cat suit. Both a mess of sweat, dripping off their foreheads into their greedy open mouths. But they don’t care, they don’t stop.

Not until Steve’s ear gets yanked by another bar patron. Billy’s got his face burrowed into the side of Steve’s neck, drowning the way his wild flower and musk cologne always lingers on the plush leather, so he doesn’t realize anything happening until Steve’s hands move off his own. They lift from where they were cupped around Billy’s own to swat at another hand hovering around his head. His ears. They stayed at if risking another grope.

Steve hissed low and mean, warning three’s a company, creepy bastard! Now back off before I show you how quick I can bite off a dick. His voice nothing like Billy’s heard it. It made his head snap up so quick.

The guy wouldn’t let up, his face ruddy with alcohol and his golden Roman crown as lopsided as his sheet he’s trying to pass off as a costume. He pops a sucker out his mouth to reply. It’s made his whole mouth cherry red, Billy hates to look at it. Hates the words he’s spewing even more.

Steve only lets him get a sentence into his explanation about how a wild cat like you needs a firm hand before he’s shoving with two fingers into the center of the guy’s chest. Backing him up with a sharp nail that disappears into the fabric. Hopefully to leave a prick of blood.

Billy’s hand snaps forward of its own accord, pressing his huge palm flat into the guy’s shoulder and sending him stumbling backwards. He’s always up for a bar fight, knows a drunk bastard like this wouldn’t win always. He shouts out I warned you man, and now I gotta kick your ass! But doesn’t get that far.

He’s caught by two hands on the lapels of his jacket. Yanking him to the side where Steve’s turned from the ass hole. Watching Billy with those nervous dinner plate eyes again. All glittering gold and chocolate chips, making his knees weak. He’s not worth it, Steve purrs. And he’s right. The guy isn’t worth it. But Steve’s worth winning one bar fight and so, so much more. He’s worth the world to Billy. So he listens and follows as they dip to the bathroom.

It’s not until Billy’s coming out of the stall he used to take a leak does he notice that creepy bastard’s pop stuck in the fur of Steve’s tail. It’s amazing he doesn’t feel it, all glossy and red and clutching at the silky fur, but it’s a testimony to how thick his tail really is. Billy knows, he’s had the honor of running his fingers through it enough times.

He offers let me help, get some soap and try to scrub it out.

But Steve just laughs, bracing himself on the side of the cracking porcelain sink, lifting one leg up while the other held his weight, then twists around until the flat of his tongue can lick across the base of his tail. Gathers spit by licking and licking, grooming the pop off his fur inch by inch until it detached into his mouth.

He drops his leg from the sink with a sigh, a dreamy moany thing that Billy’s never going to get out of his head.

Watches as Steve rolls the pop around in his mouth a couple times, savoring the artificial cherry flavor. Savoring the way he wasn’t about to let that ass hole ruin his Halloween. Then he pressed to open the trash bin with one stomp before spitting the pop away.

Billy’s never been more turned on, never been more grossed out as the same time he’s so hard. Never wanted to taste the lingering bubble pop cherry flavor from another pair of lips before.

He simply leans back against another sink and whistles, says that was something else, Stevie, where all can you reach?

And Steve doesn’t tell him. Huffs out the side of his mouth while he rolls his eyes. Blushing pretty. Says I seriously need another drink now. And something not cherry!

And Billy follows him back to the bar, decorated for Halloween and dripping with spider webs, with a smile.

[starshinegoblin]

We Found Love

♥ Co-Written with @ruensroad ♥ Status: Completed ♥ Rating: T ♥ Pairing: ZhanCheng (Lan Wangji x Jiang Cheng) ♥ AU: Canon Divergence; No One Dies; Arranged Marriage; Mentions of XianNing & Nielan; Happy Ending; ♥ Where to Read: AO3 | Only chapter one will be posted on Tumblr. ♥ Author’s Note: If you don’t like this paring then do not read it. Absolutely do not send either us disgusting hate messages here or on AO3 about you not liking this paring. Just move on and live your best life. Otherwise! Enjoy ♥ -------

Lotus Pier - Jiang Cheng: Age 7

Tongues were wagging throughout all of Lotus Pier it seemed like. No matter where Wei Wuxian went, purple clad disciples and servants gossiped plainly in full view, loud enough he didn’t even have to eavesdrop! It wasn’t even that good of news!

His shidi had been matched with some alpha in Gusu and Madam Yu had apparently scored the match of the century. Whatever that meant. Not that it mattered, anyway.

It was awful news! Terrible! Jiang Cheng’s betrothed was too far away to punch!

To make it worse, Madam Yu had now turned her attention on Wei Wuxian himself. Never a good thing. A matchmaker had come to see him just that morning, pinched his ear lobes and arms, checked his teeth and eyes and core. He was a gifted alpha himself, and the matchmaker had seemed pleased. He shivered in the memory of her hands on his hips as though he was an omega like his shidi . His hips! He was only eight!

Embarrassed and indignant, Wei Wuxian had run away to hide until lunch, when a growling stomach had him crawling out for food. With a handful of pilfered dumplings, he ran off again before Madam Yu could get him in her sights, making a break for the docks behind his and Jiang Cheng’s shared rooms. It had a pagoda over the water and he grinned to see Jiang Cheng sitting on the edge with his feet in. He always came here when he needed to think.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian hurried to his shidi’s side and plopped gracelessly down beside him, a grin brightening his expression. He shoved a dumpling in Jiang Cheng’s face. “Lookit!”

Jiang Cheng had been content to be out here on the pier by himself. He’d been singing and wiggling his toes in the water where the fish were coming up to gently nip. His solitude was invaded too soon and he had a good warning before Wei Wuxian was upon him. His shixiong wasn’t one for stealth and was louder than a laughing monkey. His mama’s words, not Jiang Cheng’s.

Jiang Cheng had braced himself to be thrown in the water but not for the dumpling to the face. He was still quick enough for him to catch it before it landed on the white robes his mother had told him to practice wearing. Jiang Cheng didn’t get it but what his mama said was law. He wasn’t going to go against that.

“You're lucky that I like these carrot dumplings!” Jiang Cheng fussed, sharply elbowing Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian pouted, but just lightly shoved him back and stuffed his mouth with dumpling. For a blissful few moments, there was just his obnoxious chewing, then his dark eyes zeroed in on the white robes. “...I thought you were gonna live here?” he said, mildly alarmed and immediately in protective older brother mode, picking at Jiang Cheng’s sleeve. “Why are you wearing Gusu robes? Your alpha picky or something? I’ll punch him in the nose! Then his fancy white robes won’t be so fancy!”

“No, no! It’s mama! She had Biyu-gu make them for me. She said I have to practice.” Jiang Cheng hummed, taking another dumpling from his brother. He leaned in smelling his brother’s warm cinnamon smell for when he was protective. Jiang Cheng didn’t need protection. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “I’m not going anywhere and my alpha gave me butterflies.” he said proudly because they’d been soft grass butterflies that’d been made by Lan Wangji. His faint smell of a bunny and sandalwood had still been on them. “She’ll have you practice too when she finds you one!” He shoved him back.

Wei Wuxian shuddered at the memory. “That creepy old matchmaker looked at my hips,” he said, pouting. “I’m not an omega! Why did she have to grab my hips?” He squirmed, nose scrunched. The old beta’s smell had been oddly strong with perfume. He still felt a bit sick from it, even in memory, like the very thoughts of the woman stunk too. “I hope she finds someone nice… I want someone nice.”

He offered another dumpling and bit into his own, looking out wistfully over the water. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted a simple mated life. He wanted someone to fawn over, and maybe farm with? Someone who liked to eat good food and play! That was the dream. “I wonder who it’ll be,” he hummed and nudged Jiang Cheng’s foot with his own. “Do you like your alpha?” he asked. “Madam Yu said it was… the match of the century? Whatever that means. If you don’t like him, I’ll punch him,” he reminded his baby brother, nose in the air. “And butterflies? How many did you get?”

“Two and I don’t know. He’s been nice to me.” Jiang Cheng answered, wondering how Lan Wangji had felt getting his toy of a husky. It’d been one of the rare gifts his father had given him and despite it only being a toy his shixiong was still scared of it. So he’d sent his most precious toy that he’d been sleeping with to his alpha. Hopefully, Lan Wangji took care of it like he would the butterflies. “And no punching! Remember what mama did last time you did that?” He shivered at how shrill her voice had gotten.

“But you’re my shidi!” Wei Wuxian countered and scooted against him to get his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “I don’t mind getting hit or yelled at! You are most important,” he said happily and rubbed his cheek to the other’s, giggling. “Besides, shijie made it all better with her soup!” He gasped just thinking about it. “Do you think she’d make some for us?”

“If not then all we need to do is ask. We know how she loves us best.” Jiang Cheng responded, leaning into Wei Wuxian’s hold. He couldn’t help but feel content. Times like this were the best. “And she’s just making sure you can have young with your mate. You’ll probably have your own sect!” He teased.

“Nuh-uh! I’m your shixiong! Neither of us are going anywhere!” Wei Wuxian clung to him all the more stubbornly. “My mate can come here and we can plant lotus together.” He seemed extra excited about that. “And maybe rice and peppers! Then shijie can always make us yummy food!”

“You really wanna be here? What if where your mate lives is wonderful?” Jiang Cheng asked, laughing at how his shixiong’s scent spiked up. “Besides, you know that shijie is going to go live with that peacock? Mama already said and she seemed so happy when they visited.”

“Then I will cook,” Wei Wuxian pouted again, his lip wobbly at the thought of her being gone. It didn’t last long, however, when a thought occurred to him. “Say, Jiang Cheng! Maybe you can cook too! What do they eat in Gusu?” he asked, thinking of how Jiang Yanli practiced daily to cook for her peacock omega prince. “Maybe your alpha would like to try our food? He’d love your soup!”

“Maybe? His letter mentioned onion and mushroom soup?” Jiang Cheng answered, sounding unsure. It’d been a little line after he’d written about a page and half in regards to his favorite dishes. He’d even sent his alpha his sister's lotus soup recipe.

“Well, let’s go talk to shijie,” Wei Wuxian offered, stuffing the last dumpling into his cheek like a chipmunk and hopping up. He helped Jiang Cheng to his feet. “Remember what she said?” he asked thickly around his chewing. “Food is the path to the heart! Come on!”

He took off running, only pausing once to make sure Jiang Cheng was behind him, and giggled, taking his hand to lead him the rest of the way.

Cloud of Recesses- Lan Wangji: Age 8

In Gusu, the spring sun was a welcome warmth with the breeze that seemed to still carry winter’s chill. Lan Wangji held his betrothed’s little husky to his chest all the tighter with one arm and wrapped his cloak more firmly with the other, cradling the beloved toy into the safety of his chest. It smelt fragrant of green grass, sunshine, and young wheat. He supposed that was what Lotus Pier smelt like, as well as lotus pods and water, and as the head of the plush brushed under his chin, it stirred up the soft, sweet smell, tickling his nose.

Wordlessly, he shuffled through his uncle’s garden, where Lan Qiren grew herbs. He’d read Jiang Cheng’s letter so many times he’d memorized it, as well as the list of foods he didn’t know or recognize. Thankfully, one of their cooks was from Meishan and understood the neighboring Yunmeng’s cuisine, though the list of spices she’d given Lan Wangji to find were very hard to discover. He’d already checked the kitchen gardens, after all, even though the cook had warned him he’d have to go to Caiyi to even find half the list.

Stubbornly, he kept looking. Lan Wangji gently toed at a small green spot and knelt down to brush away some dead leaves around the little marker Lan Qiren had put in. Sage, it read, a good find. But it wasn’t pepper, or chili, or paprika, the first three and most important spices on the list. Thankfully, his uncle had ginger, not too far down the line, and he took care to wipe the marker free of old leaves and early sprouting weeds too. Anything to help his uncle, even in a tiny amount.

He heard footsteps behind him, light and familiar, but didn’t stop, given he’d found a new sprout trying to peek out under a blanket of mulch. He carefully uncovered it and tilted his head, wondering what a ginger plant actually looked like.

“Be careful Wangji or you’ll pull it out before it’s time.” Lan Xichen’s voice said from behind him. A tender smile on his face as he watched his brother hover around the growing ginger sprout. He’d been on his way to visit his shufu when he’d been stopped by Yu Lee. She told him that his brother had been looking for spices.

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji greeted him, standing and turning to face him. He carefully fussed the toy he held close, brushing it off, even though no part of it had touched the ground. Once he was satisfied, he looked down at the ginger again, thoughtful. The name for ginger was phonetically the same as Jiang Cheng’s surname. He wondered if Jiang Cheng was spicy too? Even though he smelt sweet?

Turning back to Lan Xichen, he stepped close to show him his list of spices. “Cook says I need to go to Caiyi for these,” he said softly. “Even shufu does not have the first three in his garden.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen blinked, taking the list to see what was missing. He could smell the small tinge of unhappiness from his brother at not having found what he needed. Lan Xichen hummed, knowing that they would have to go to Caiyi even before he crouched down to be at his brother’s eye level. “Yu Lee wasn’t wrong Wangji. We will have to visit Caiyi. I think shufu is going there at the end of the week. Perhaps, I can ask if we can go?”

Lan Wangji perked up at that. “Please,” he said, not used to asking for things, but this was for his future mate. It was important. Jiang Cheng had been kind enough to send him a list of foods he liked. The least he could do was learn how to make them. After all, Jiang Cheng was to be a sect leader one day. Lan Wangji’s job was to help him as best he could. He wanted to cook for him, care for him, make the load lighter. That’s what a good mate did! So he would.

Still, it was a bit disappointing that he had to wait. But waiting was its own reward. It gave him time to prepare for all the little bottles he had to store the spices. They needed a box to keep them cool and dry, safe from moisture and weather. That meant...

“Xiongzhang,’ he said, gently tugging on Lan Xichen’s sleeve, “i want to build a spice chest.”

“Would you like me to help you Wangji?” Lan Xichen beamed. His adorable little brother rarely asked for things. His eyes flicked down to the well loved stuffed husky under his brother’s arms. Lan Wangji hadn’t let it go since he’d unwrapped the box it came in.

Lan Wangji nodded, grateful. He didn’t know how to make one, but hopefully his brother did, and if not, he would know who to ask.

“Would you like to start now? I think that Master Peng has some scraps we can use?” Lan Xichen asked, standing up straight.

Another nod, then a hand wrapped around his own. Lan Wangji let himself be led off, holding the little husky close. “Prepare for spices,” he reasoned to his big brother. “Have the bottles already.”

“Of course, one should be prepared for our mates.” Lan Xichen chuckled, though he was serious. Those words had made him wonder what his own mate would be like. His shufu had spoken to many in hopes of finding a match for him. The first had been Jin Zixuan but then Madam Jin and Madam Yu had secured his mating with Jiang Yanli. The next had been Wen Xu from Wen Ruohan. But then Wen Xu’s elder brother died and Wen Xu became the heir and found a mate. His shufu hadn’t pressed for When Chao and he was glad? During the last time he was in the Nightless City the omega hadn’t liked him. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside as Lan Wangji lightly squeezed his hand. “Then we must visit the apothecary when in Caiyi unless you want to have special bottles.”

“Got them from Cook,” Lan Wangji said, proud of that. She’d been kind enough to hand him her old bottles when the new allowance had hit, allowing her to buy all new bigger bottles to use for her kitchen. Lan Wangji had thought to fill them with colored sands and rocks, as well as beads and shells, but now with a mate to consider, he wanted them to remain true to their use. They were spice bottles, so spice bottles they would stay.

“I will be prepared for Jiang Cheng,” he promised his brother with all the seriousness he could muster at eight years of age. “Does xiongzhang wish to prepare for a mate too? I will help.”

Lan Xichen blinked at how Jiang Wanyin had gone to Jiang Cheng so quickly. Then his smile thinned as to the question of his own mate. He shook his head. “You will be a good mate for Jiang Wanyin. He is lucky and no, I do not have a mate to prepare for Wangji. I am here to help my didi prepare for his. So, if there’s anything you need help with then just ask me.”

Lan Wangji knew that already, so just nodded seriously and held his brother’s hand more firmly. “ Xiongzhang will make someone very lucky too,” he said solemnly, earnest and confident. His brother was the best person in the world, after all. He deserved the world. “Maybe I can help shufu find someone for xiongzhang?” he wondered, looking to Lan Xichen for approval of the idea. Lan Wangji hadn’t appreciated the last person Lan Qiren had tried to match his brother with. Wen Chao was a brat and a spoiled one. He'd wanted to push his smug face off the mountain.

“I would like that very much.” Lan Xichen smiled cheerfully at him. He knew that his brother meant well. He just hoped that there was someone out for him. “You know me the best and will give Shufu the best advice.”

Lan Wangji preened a little, not that it showed on his face. Still, his eyes were a tad shinier, almost glowing, and his scent warmed in pleasure. He held the husky under his nose to remind his brain what Jiang Cheng smelt like and a tiny smile lit his face. “I will, xiongzhang,” he promised, and promises were forever. “Only the best for you.”

[robbyrobinson]

Family Diner

(Alternate reality take on the series that may or may not have some invoking of the Old Gods.)

Working for Fazbear Entertainment was a thankless endeavor. A franchise dedicated to making the most in terms of children's entertainment. I remember when the establishment was struggling and was practically dead on arrival. I was assigned to work for a branch of the company called Fredbear's Family Diner, a family-oriented establishment. Business was down in comparison to their rivals and reviews further sunk the chances of parents taking their rowdy children to any of their branches.

But what kept it afloat was two men: Henry and one William Afton. Afton came off as being a crude replication of a man. He was of a sickly thin stature with his purple business suit barely clinging onto his body. His eyes were sunken in and possessed a yellow hue. When I somehow got wrapped up in his business, he shook my hand. He had the most skeletal, papery skin around his fingers. He smiled at me, but his smile was disconcerting as well. It was artificially made like a mask and seemingly rubbery in texture. His low husky voice did little to match up with his lips' movement.

"It is a pleasure to see that you have decided to join our goal."

I mustered up as much of a smile that I could, but I could not deny that I felt intimidated already. At least his business partner was more affable. He was leagues above Mr. Afton in terms of physical appearance. He had a healthy skin color, a peachy one, and a brown beard. He was already thinning on the top of his head that he often hid away with a top hat. He wore a blue business uniform and was more on the plump side of the spectrum then Afton could attest to.

"We are somewhat falling short of quality, I admit to that," Henry confesses, "but I will give it my best to make sure you do not regret working for us."

Henry showed me the ropes of the establishment while Afton tended to seclude himself in his room for the remainder of the day. Sometimes he would disappear in the middle of conversing with me, Henry, or any of his employees. Each time, he trudged to his office and slammed the door loudly as if not wanting anyone to become aware of what he was doing in secret. Sometimes I managed to catch a glimpse of some glowing, luminescent orbs floating without direction in his office before he slammed the door shut.

Before long, Henry introduced me to early iterations of the franchise's animatronics. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie to be exact. Long before the likes of Freddy Fazbear, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy the Pirate, there were two animatronics. These animatronics were oddly high-tech for their time with the Spring Bonnie animatronic in particular also doubling as a suit. Despite them being technological marvels, they lacked a certain flair. They were devoid of personality or charm. Children were less likely to fawn over them as frankly they came off as being creepy robots. Naturally, they were, but some children could at least look past that issue and accept them as their friends. Henry noticed me looking at the two animatronics one early morning, understanding what I was thinking without me having to tell him.

"I know it isn't much, but kids will love them if you are willing to give them a chance."

A ludicrous proposal, but I did try to become more invested with the animatronics. But their hollow eyes and endoskeletons clouded any good feelings I may have had for the robots. I did feel somewhat bad for Henry, but I would not lie to myself that there was inherently nothing appealing about Fredbear or Spring Bonnie. The franchise was now verging on full scale closure and if it did not shape up, the business would be shut down and the employees would be without a job. Henry and Afton had to do something. Fast.

But my god if it did not come with a cost.

Time passed and at the beginning of the month, a child went missing. The authorities were notified of the disappearance and during our regular scheduling, they stormed the diner and went to speak with the owners. Henry was charitable as always and spoke calmly with the police. According to their discussion, it was an 8-year-old, porky boy who disappeared during the open hours of the establishment being seen with Spring Bonnie. I stood by listening to the conversation. At the corner of my eye, I caught Afton edging further away from the authorities and this time opening a door to the backroom of the diner and slamming it behind him.

An utter nightmare of a day that was, but I made the most of it and headed home only to return the next day. I had quite the shock; Spring Bonnie and Fredbear appeared livelier and more active. They had a glint in their eyes that sparkled. I would even swear that I saw them blink a few times. Henry approached me, with a full smile on his face. "Told you it would be a matter of time, but the kids now can't have enough of the two!"

I smiled back. Well, I could not deny it: whatever happened proved to be beneficial for the diner. However, Mr. Afton noticeably stayed longer in his office hardly ever leaving to discuss any recent developments with any of our staff. The few times he had temporarily left his office, I noticed that his skin became progressively paler almost matching his business suit's coloration. He was becoming more of a walking corpse each passing day then when I first became employed at the diner. But I did initially shake that observation out of my mind instead attributing that to disease. Mr. Afton was a sickly man, after all. It maybe could be easily explained away that he was most likely suffering some type of illness, perhaps of a hereditary variety.

Business was booming at a greater rate than ever before. Birthday parties were being held at the diner. Reservations were filled. Everything was going well. At least until one day that is. On one of our less busy days, Henry took me to the side. He was sterner and more serious than usual. "What is it sir?" I asked in genuine curiosity. I almost sensed the dread in his voice. Was it that I was going to be laid off now? I have been representing the establishment for about two months now.

"My son is coming to have a birthday party tomorrow."

"Oh, a birthday party for your son?" Henry did often mention in passing to having a daughter. This was probably the first time I have heard him having a son. But it made sense with what he said next.

"My boy…is greatly terrified of the animatronics. It is a rather odd dilemma. He used to really love the animatronics at least until his older brother started to terrorize him by dressing up as one from one of our owned pizzeria chains. Humorously, he keeps his plush animals around. As you can probably tell, he is greatly important to me hence why I keep him under surveillance numerously. Sometimes at the diner. Sometimes at home by installing a tracking device inside of his stuffed Fredbear doll."

That was unsettling, but I could easily tell that he was fiercely devoted to his son. So, I listened tentatively to what he was saying. I was to keep watch over his son while his party was underway. Pretty simple I first thought. On that day, I sat to the side watching the young boy. He and his sister and mother sat far away to the near back of the diner away from the prying eyes of the animatronics. It pained me seeing a young child like that be so frightful of the two-animatronics stationed in the diner, but he slowly began to enjoy himself in other ways.

But with anything what started off as harmless fun devolved into urgency and mass hysteria. When the boy's mother slipped from her seat to go to the restroom, the boy's brother arrived at the diner wearing a Foxy mask along with his hooligan friends. The boy's fears started to kick in with his breathing becoming more frantic. I called out to the boys demanding that they cease their behavior, but I was met with only the mocking laughing of the boy's brother and friends. They scooped the crying child into their grubby hands and walked in the direction of Fredbear. The boy's screaming rung through the diner. I nearly could not listen to it with it being that pained and frantic.

"Why not give Fredbear a big kiss?" the brother asked.

Despite his younger brother's protests, the brother placed his head into Fredbear's open maw. Fredbear's maw moved in an up and down fashion, sluggishly moving. They all laughed at the boy's utter humiliation and fear.

Crunch.

The laughter stopped as quickly as it began. The boy suddenly became limp and lifeless. Blood trickling down Fredbear's furry cheeks. Upon closer inspection, the force exerted by the animatronics' jaws caved in the boy's skull. Blood was everywhere. I never heard so fierce a scream ever and I hope to whatever ethereal being that was out there in the cosmos that I never would again.

I scrambled to get to the diner's work phone and dialed 911. "Yes, we have an emergency on our hands. Our address?"

Henry was in an obviously distraught mood with the whole thing. He was greatly devastated by the freak accident. He reacted harshly to his older son dismissive of him trying to apologize. Even when he was being taken away to be interrogated. He was a broken man in all but his sanity. Mr. Afton was in his office again, per usual, but he left it upon hearing all the commotion. He approached Henry with curiosity. When he was given the rundown on what happened, Mr. Afton tapped his shoulders. His skin was becoming purple, as if it were decomposing. His eyes were stretched wide.

"Do not worry, old friend, we will put him back together."

The hell kind of ominous statement was that? Henry looked Mr. Afton over suspiciously and alarmed at what he was saying. Without needing to say anything more, Henry pried his hand off his shoulder. Afton shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the backroom to resume whatever he was doing. The diner shut down for a good week or so until the disappearances resumed.

Everything was picking up for the diner. Much of that had to go with how well-received Spring Bonnie and Fredbear were. As I have said, they were once devoid of much expression and personality, but through whatever means, business was flourishing. At least until that incident involving Henry’s son. It felt like a fever dream with how rapid it was in its action. Since then, Henry acted more embittered. He kept up the image of being affable, but he nevertheless became colder to me and the staff. But Afton’s insistence that he would help put Henry’s son “back together” still lingered in my mind. His son was in critical care; how could Mr. Afton even begin to believe that he could put his friend’s son back together as if he were a broken vase.

 But ever since that 8-year-old boy went missing, seemingly disappearing in thin air, more children around the diner began to fade into the shadows. A young girl with green eyes and blonde hair was last reported mourning her deceased puppy dog. Around that time, the Spring Bonnie animatronic was mysteriously missing. I remember Mr. Afton detailing the exact specific functions of the Spring Bonnie animatronic saying that it was specifically designed to be worn by an employee; he called it a springlock suit. The suit itself was called such because of its springs and wiring that could be…well, for lack of a better word, locked away. But he warned me that if any moisture got into it…he represented the situation by balling a scrap of paper between his hands. Accidentally touching the springs or breathing on them also proved to have deadly consequences. Why in good faith would Mr. Afton even think that it was a good idea? It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Oy, this company.

 But more bizarre than that was how Mr. Afton began to ramble odd remarks about…gods? If he were a religious man, that would be fine, but he would keep talking about odd anomalies and how at one time, they ruled over the world long before mankind took its first few baby steps. He spoke openly bout his dedication to the gods and how they were the ones behind the success of the franchise. His skin no longer resembled any recognizable skin tone. He became akin to a shriveled grape in the sun. His eyes were so sunken in now, all I could make most of was a thin shade of darkness where the whiteness in his eyes should have been. My staff members were most assuredly disturbed by Mr. Afton’s slow transformation, but he did sense it in the back of his mind. He now spent most of his time either alone in his office or in the backroom only emerging towards closing time. One day when I was about to punch out and call it a night, Mr. Afton took me by the side and smiled at me. Even his gums were purple.

 “I do not know the time of day or the hour, but the gods will return to reclaim this world. I may be dead by that point, but I hope that you will survive to see their return. Yog-Sothoth will open the gates wide and the gods will terry the lands as they have done long before.”

 Years later, I still saw Mr. Afton’s words as being the breaking point for me. Thinking back on it, Mr. Afton was never sane to begin with. He was blessed with the technological know-how, but he had odd manners about himself almost as if he were stark mad. He became obsessed with the aspect of opening the Gate to usher the gods of old back into our plane of existence. Once they arrived, the powers within this planet would be reverted to them, and Yog-Sothoth would drag this rock into the void between worlds where he rules. Outside of time and space itself; outside of the organized world into realms of madness and disorder. Into a realm of decaying, dead planets and faceless gods.

  Within the first week of the month, four more children vanished under mysterious circumstances. With every single instance, the Spring Bonnie suit was absent, suspicions falling on the employees that they were deliberately spiriting the animatronic suit away to use it for nefarious purposes. As the weeks went by, adults lost hope of the original missing children ever being found. An employee was charged for the murders and was sentenced to be executed. Word spread that he was being set up but by whom none could tell or let alone agree.

 Another month passed with the adults and parents giving up on the missing children and accepting that the employee who was accused of the crime was the best they could attain to closure. Spring Bonnie and Fredbear continued to rake in patrons sometimes getting booked for personal reservations. With more money in their pockets, so to speak, more animatronics were gradually introduced to other locations but also fell under the same dilemma resonating with the diner formerly: the animatronics were lifeless. Granted, they were robots so that could be kind of the point. But lifeless in that they were not entertaining. Henry at that time did not take much concern about the other locations due to mourning the loss of his son. That responsibility squarely fell under Mr. Afton. Whenever he left his office, he wore a trench coat to hide his body coloration. He would tend to be gone for days at a time, but once he was done visiting, the animatronics also took on a life of their own and were on the receiving end of a warm reception. The Spring Bonnie suit also followed Afton throughout the different locations.

 Henry and I grew closer to each other due to Afton’s abrupt leaves. He entrusted me with spieling out his frustrations and sorrows and appreciated me as a confidant. I would give my concerns about how Mr. Afton conducted his business and placed it at his feet. Each time, Henry felt the need to explain his co-owner’s oddness away in the most trivial of ways. Afton’s devotion to the gods of old became increasingly problematic and impeded on his side of the business scheme. Yet he kept insisting that the gates will be opened. Sometimes he looked at me almost as if hoping that I would be the one to open the gates.

 Henry’s older son was still away somewhere in a juvenile correctional facility. His surviving daughter was named Charlotte. I had seen her about once or twice. She was the near image of childhood innocence. She treated other kids respectably and was always there to lift their spirits or be the one who would offer their shoulder to lean on. Charlotte was Henry’s pride and joy. Which was why I found what happened to her leagues worse than what befell his son.

 Business began as usual with me taking orders and keeping watch on Fredbear. Without warning, Henry erupted from his office frantically causing the documents in his hands to fall onto the floor in a heap. I tried to intervene and ask him what had happened, but all he could reply was “Charlie, my daughter…”

 Charlie was found dead at one of the pizzerias. From whatever explanation that was readily available, forensics speculated that she was sick from a stomachache and for whatever reason opted to run out of the pizzeria. By the time that happened, an assailant attacked her leaving her in a pool of her own blood. It was raining heavily at the time and some of the blood was already disappearing from the scene. When some of the employees noticed that Charlie was absent from an arranged party, to their shock, they found their surveillance animatronic, nicknamed “The Puppet” by the side of the deceased girl. From their research, they found a green bracelet on the corpse’s wrist that was meant to be a signal for the Puppet to indicate that one of the children were not in the pizzeria. Strangely enough, Charlie’s blood trickled into a puddle with the rainwater and it met up with the animatronic. The Puppet was returned to the backroom under the shared fear that it had malfunctioned. Purple streaks were underneath the Puppet’s eyes. As if it too were weeping.

 Henry’s controlling over the situation worsened. He could not think rationally nor critically. His demeanor changed ultimately with him being dismissive with me and the other employees. He could no longer be trusted with dealing with the diner’s finances. Even just thinking about it was enough to push him into one of his winded tangents about the unfairness of life. Mr. Afton remained behind locked doors during Henry’s mindless dribbles, but he had what I at best could call a demented sense of intrigue at what happened to Charlie. Instead of consoling Henry over his loss, Mr. Afton instead asked questions about the murder and continued to speak on his occultic obsession. It was incredibly distasteful, but I could sense that Afton did at least have a small iota of sympathy for his co-owner’s plight. Maybe to the furthest extent I could give him some leniency was perhaps he was not as monstrous as I imagined him to be. He leaned into Henry’s ear and whispered something. I had not the faintest idea what he could have possibly been saying, but Henry’s eyes lit up. It must have been something about Charlie because his color returned to his skin and the glint returned.

 “Just follow me,” Afton said.

 Without speaking another word, Henry followed his old friend. They walked past his office which was lit again with the light of those glowing orbs. I quietly followed the two men whilst they were none the wiser, and I stopped when they approached the double doors of the backroom. I darted around the corner and remained there until I heard the doors slam shut.

 They were gone for a deafly long time. I had waited for at least two minutes for either two to come out, but it was a fruitless decision. I returned to my station and took more orders. When I got finished with that, my eyes floated over to Spring Bonnie and Fredbear again. They still looked lively as usual. While it came off as less of a surprise, I did notice a few quirks that the animatronics had. They were singing their typical substandard tunes that the children ate up, but the adults reviled as earworms.

 An hour passed when the two men were gone, but I heard the doors open again. A floored Henry emerged from the backroom the color in his skin tone diminishing. He was white as a ghost. He rubbed his eyes in a maddened haze when the smallest light entered them and became near intelligible from whatever Mr. Afton had shown him. He stammered slurred words and grasped his head between his hands. “Souls…remnant…blackness.”

 I ran towards him out of concern. Whatever he had seen had made him into such a psychological mess he barely had any memory of me and his surroundings. He was speaking what amount to anti-intellectual dribble.

 “A mist of darkness swirling and writhing in every which direction. Ropes of tentacles made of ink on top of a drove of primeval legs each innumerable and infinite. Some being that is centuries old undoubtably older than our known universe. Mouths on every orifice of the creature’s abominable form. Rows upon rows of mouths with hideous monstrosities leaping out of the open maws in a maddening frenzy scurrying away from their ‘mother” in fear of getting devoured. Green slime raining down from the open maws, And oh my god, that goat head….”

 Mr. Afton clasped Henry’s shoulder. “You have beheld our source of revenue. One of those elder gods who I have summoned to Earth. I serve her with every fiber of my being. Do you not see that without her we would be no better than the worms beneath our feet?”

 Henry swatted his hand away, “I…need some time to myself.”

 Mr. Afton frowned, but with what little remained of his lips it came off as artificially contrived. “Take all the time you need, old friend. The time is on the essence.”

 He turned away from the madman and momentarily looked at me. I was going to respond, but he immediately turned again and exited through the front door. The time he dedicated to himself evolved into minutes, to hours. To days. To months and finally a whole year.

 He never returned to the diner.

 With Henry's departure, business began to plummet. Without his hand over management of the finances, Fredbear's floundered in reviews with not even the liveliness of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie doing much to turn heads. Henry never went to any of the branches in Fazbear Entertainment. The last I have heard about him; he was still ranting wildly about whatever Mr. Afton had in the backroom. None knew what was behind there for Mr. Afton made even staring at the double doors prohibited. In the backroom of the diner, there came rustling and chillingly low growls. They resembled no such animal on this Earth. They were the sound of freight trains all going in the same direction and forming a massive collision.

Everywhere that Mr. Afton went came the utmost disturbing of news of children going missing in the different sections of the franchise. The Spring Bonnie suit was permanently retired due to Mr. Afton's insistence of using it for personal projects. Mr. Afton no longer resembled a human but an emaciated skeleton whose very bones were a darker shade of purple still. The very fact that he was still able to move around despite there being little fat on his body was a miracle. Or should I call it a curse?

At Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for instance, there was a case of five missing children consisting of three boys and two girls. It was another one of those booked reservations for a birthday party that was being thrown late in the afternoon. Witnesses claim that they were seen going into the backroom being led away from the other screaming children and bustling parents by one of the golden animatronics. What happened next was sketchy: they just…faded away seemingly in thin air. No bodies were ever found. No one noticed that the kids were missing until about four hours later. Mr. Afton was there – wearing his trench coat yet again – looking suspicious as always. He aided the search party anyway he could even placate younger children by voluntarily giving them tickets so they could play in the arcade or giving them pizza slices free of charge. There was never so much protesting from moral guardians before in the history of Fazbear Entertainment and there never would be again. Parents held other parents as being to blame for the Missing Children Incident if it benefitted them regardless of their allegations being factually sound or not. The grand witch hunt led to the families incriminating a security guard as being the guilty party. They ignored his attempts at trying to reason with them and was arrested. Mr. Afton stood by and with what little remained of his mouth, he made a short whistle.

As there were no bodies found at the scene of the crime, the security guard was found guilty of the five children's disappearances and sentenced to five life sentences. To this day, he still insists that not only was he innocent of all charges, but due to the prejudices that were thrown his way, the moral guardians failed to catch the real killer when they had the chance.

Sometime after the whole ordeal, something peculiar befell the animatronics. They began to reek afoul some attributing the scent to unveiling of an ancient crypt. Blood and mucus secreted through the eyes, nose, and mouths of the animatronics. Due to the mass disappearances of children at the pizzerias, surveillance technology was added to the animatronics, here called "Toy Animatronics." They were supposed to be linked to a criminal interface and were "revamped" versions of the original four of Freddy, Foxy, Chica, and Bonnie. There were also the additions of that wretched Balloon Boy and the upper executives remodeled the Puppet they had from the other pizzeria perhaps convinced they could revamp it as well. But they warned that one had to continually wind its music box to keep it at bay. I do not know what it would entail if someone neglected to do so, but I assume whatever is the result, it is not pretty.

Fredbear's Family Diner's days eventually came to a slow, excruciating end. There were massive layoffs and Fredbear was decommissioned and sent to be hollowed out for scrap metal. I could have sworn that I saw Fredbear's eyes move about in a frantic pace and his movements stiffened. It was disheartening to watch. Mr. Afton remained in his office for a long duration of time not interacting with any of his staff or employees. I was the last one left and as I gathered my things, Mr. Afton called out to me again.

"Do you mind staying a little longer?"

"Yes sir, what do you expect from me?" I responded.

"I'm sure you are dying to know what was behind these backdoors," Mr. Afton explained, "since your services are no longer needed here, I feel that now is the appropriate time to reveal my inspiration."

I shrugged my arms. Mr. Afton was becoming more unnerving by the second, but since I had nothing at the time to lose, I decided to humor him this one time. After all, I may as well not be expecting to see him again. He held out a bony finger and flicked it. "Just follow me."

I followed the deranged man like he asked of me and we both disappeared behind the back. I have seen just about everything this franchise had to offer, but I could not mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see.

We made it to the double doors and Mr. Afton held the knob sternly in his hand, fondling it even. "Behold my muse."

He…opened the door. It was like what Henry had mentioned. There in the back was a large creature of indiscernible design. The creature was of a larger scope that my brain began to short circuit from my desperation at trying to comprehend what I was seeing. A swirling mist of darkness and tentacles all on top of goat legs. Smaller creatures leapt out of the maws of the monster and acted abrasively towards each other. A dark paste-like subject was leaking from underneath the dark being that was being gathered through an irrigation system. Tubes and wires led towards a vault where the dark matter was pumped.

"What? What is all this?"

Mr. Afton smiled again. "As you can see, I have been in quite the desperate debacle with trying to keep revenue flowing to the diner. After trying the more legal means of doing so, I became desperate. Henry and I were. So, I did further research and ultimately, I found the answer to my dilemmas. Shub-Niggurath."

Green slime dripped from the many mouths of the Black Goat of the Woods. A hideous creature with even more abominable offspring, Shub-Niggurath a fertility goddess of sorts that was worshiped by many cults. But why…why is Shub-Niggurath in our diner rather than anywhere else? But what caught my eyes was the dark substance being collected into large vaults.

"That my dear boy," Mr. Afton said in a sing-song tune, "is what I call remnant."

Remnant I thought. It was an odd term for whatever…this was. My mind was still trying to wrap around as to why Mr. Afton summoned an Outer God to our plane of existence. "That is what I had been injecting into the animatronics to give them life," he explained.

"How did you do that?" I asked though I plainly did not wish to know. As I finished my thought, I saw something to the side of the room in a small heap. I ran over to it to get a closer look. My mouth was agape with horror. It was clothes of varying sizes discarded with nonchalance. My mind began to comprehend what it all meant, but Mr. Afton gave me the answer anyway.

"It is simple, my boy; children are sacrificed to satiate my goddess' hunger and once that is done, I pillage through the remains of secretion and from there, I harvest remnant. Remnant at its simplest and purest of form are condensed souls of the children."

I wanted to vomit in repulsion, but none came out. What a despicable endeavor. But it explained why Spring Bonnie and Fredbear felt so alive. They were with the melted down souls of any unfortunate child that was lured away and sacrificed. I believe that they were in deep pain and writhing with every wave of pain. My heart went out to those children lost.

"You psycho, how could you kill all these children!?"

Mr. Afton laughed. "They are not truly gone; they live on in various forms some within Shub-Niggurath herself or as the animatronics they love. I am sure you had some favorite character once, correct? Well, I am also positive that you wanted to be them in some way?"

My hands shook. "What of Charlie? Was she also apart of your sick experiments?"

"That one I admit had no real purpose behind it," Mr. Afton confessed, "it was more a happy accident."

He crossed his arms. "If my foolish friend allowed me, I would have put his precious boy back together again. You know that I have the means and resources to do so. Ah, such a tragedy that was."

I had enough of Mr. Afton's callousness I went to turn around, but he grabbed my arm. "Wait, please hear me out before you do anything rash."

"I am done listening to you."

"My time is not promised," Mr. Afton said bluntly, "I have tried to use remnant to make myself immortal, but it had bleached my skin and is poisoning my bloodstream. Please devote the rest of your days to serving my goddess."

I grabbed his hand with my other hand and pried him off. "You have tampered with something unearthly and grave. You can go sleep with the worms for all I care."

Mr. Afton sighed. "Then we have no other reason to speak. I hate it very much."

He made another grab for me and caught me by the collar. There I was being dragged towards one of the many maws of the Black Goat of the Woods. Mr. Afton muttered something beneath his breath maybe some slurred praise to the Outer God. With her acidic breath coming ever closer, I had to think fast. I leaned forward and bit down on Mr. Afton's wrist. He hissed in pain and covered his hand with his other to ease the pain. I scurried to get back up and I punched him squarely in the face. He fell to the ground with a thud. Before he could say anymore, one of Shub-Niggurath's tentacles darted out and grabbed his leg.

"My goddess, wait, do not do this to your faithful servant!"

Mr. Afton was being dragged into the goddess' open mouth and her young took interest in what was happening and came down on Mr. Afton clawing and scratching his face. I was frozen in fear but if I did not leave, Shub-Niggurath would direct her attention towards me. I ran as fast as my legs could take me down the hall ignoring Mr. Afton's screams asking for assistance. My legs were giving out quickly, but I fought for my life.

The foundations of the diner were crumbling from the rapid movement of Shub-Niggurath. By the time I escaped, the ceiling caved in and collapsed in on the walls. When the dust was settled, Fredbear's Family Diner was nothing more than a pile of rubble. Afton and his goddess were buried deep in the debris. I had survived, but at what cost for I was the only one aside from Henry who knew what Afton was really doing.

I tried going about living my daily life, but I am still bothered by Afton's horrific experiments and his attempts of trying to usher in beings potentially worse in their scale from what Shub-Niggurath could attest to. But whatever was out there in the cosmos, I was relieved that at least the apocalypse was averted. But for how long?

[singingfirefliess]

Prompt: Five more minutes!

This isn’t at all how he imaginedtheir second date would go.

Then again, he’s never been on anactual date before until last week when he took Carol out to dinner.Or rather: when Carol took him out cause he’d been too much ofa chicken to ask her out himself. He’d wanted to for weeks, but henever assumed she’d actually want the same. Not when she’s pretty andsoft and kind while he is always covered in motor oil and grease withhis hair hiding his face and too goddamn shy to really talk to her.

Then she’d asked him, completely outof the blue and with a flush on her cheeks that made his knees weak.They’d been sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard of the carshop, the radio blasting from inside the metal walls – still notloud enough to silence the rapid fire beating of his heart.

She’d looked so pretty in thesunlight, freckles dotting her pale skin as she nibbled on one of thesandwiches she always brings over from the diner across the streetwhere she works.

Until a few weeks ago, a pimplefaced kid had made the delivery (something Dale organized months agoto make sure all the guys got something proper to eat). But then oneday Carol had showed up with a basket full of neatly wrappedsandwiches and with auburn curls framing her pretty face.

After a while, she started to lingerand they’d started talking. It was easier with her than with mostpeople. All too soon, spending his lunch break with Carol became hisfavorite part of the day.

Their dinner had been awkward. Hismouth felt dry and he was too distracted by Carol’s black dress andred lips to think clearly. In the end, she’d kissed his cheek andwhispered good night when he dropped her off at her house, though.Somehow, she stuck around even after that.

Only now he’s stuck at IKEA and he’spretty sure this is not what other people do on a second date.

Carol is completely enthralled,though. A constant smile etched to her face, her hand clasped aroundhis as she dragged him around. His skin burned where she touched him,so casual that he wondered if she even realized it.

He’s already had to sit on everycouch and open pretty much ever kitchen drawer (and he did get to layin five different beds with Carol, all much nicer than his own, andhe thinks that’s pretty good for a second date).

Now, he’s standing in the middle ofa warehouse sized room filled to the brim with… crap. Everythingfrom towels to dishes to picture frames and vases. Everything youcould possibly clutter your home with. The cart he’s pushing isstarting to fill at rapid speed and suddenly he wonders if the trunkof his truck is big enough for it all (he’d offered to come here whenshe mentioned she needed a set of new chairs, sighing when shecomplained about the delivery costs and her own car, too small).Maybe he made a mistake in offering his help he wonders now as Carolruns her hand over a fluffy, purple rug.

“We almost done here?” he asks,trying not to sound annoyed. Because he really isn’t. Hell, he’d dopretty much anything if it means he gets to spend time with her. Butby now he feels like he’s being dragged into a very plush, verycolorful Hell.

Thankfully, Carol doesn’t seem totake it the wrong way, but she does look a little bashful.

“Sorry, I know I get a bit tooexcited here,” she says, nudging the huge pile of rugs with the tipof her sandals. “I haven’t been here in forever.”

He didn’t mean to make her feel badabout it. “’s all right,” he reassures her, and her face lightsup when he offers her a weak smile. It’s the best he’s got.

“Just five more minutes, okay? Wehaven’t gotten to the best part yet.”

His eyes widen a little and then herhand is back on his, tugging him and the cart down the aisle,following the arrows on the ground. “An’ what’s that?”

“Candles!”

Considering the blistering heatoutside Daryl has no idea what the hell she needs candles for. But hefollows her anyway, squeezing past little clusters of people who fawnover knick knacks and other useless stuff like toothbrush holders andwoven boxes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it worthyour while,” Carol promises, slowing down a little. Suddenly sheseems to realize she’s still clutching his hand and she drops it,cheeks red. “Have you ever had Köttbullar?”

“That some kind of disease?” heasks, the name completely unfamiliar and her question mightyconfusing. Then again, everything in this place apparently has beengiven some really creepy, weird name.

Carol laughs, a light and carefreesound that sends warmth through his veins. He wants to hear it overand over like the best kind of song. “Don’t worry, I won’t give youthe clap or anything.” She says it with a straight face while hisown mouth drops open and his eyes widen. By the time her gigglebreaks out she’s already nudged her elbow ever so softly into hisribs and he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe or walk,tripping over his own damn boot at her boldness.

“Wha-”

“They’re meatballs,” sheexplains, pearly white teeth sparkling as she grins. “You’ll lovethem.”

And then, completely unfazed by whatshe just did, Carol strolls ahead, aiming straight for the biggestarray of candles he has ever seen in his life.