#I warned ya'll

[ruubesz-draws]

If Godzilla can wear shoes (in Fortnite) then he can wear heels :)

Hahahahaaa... I warned you guysss

I saw these and... I had to...

(Godzilla figure image from here) (Heels clashing image from Tiktok @stormigee)

[kousagi7hikari]

Moshang Pigmalion AU

Shang Qinghua was burnt out. This was a fact that only became obvious to him when his… friend? Biggest critic? Shen Yuan had pointed out how his usually crappy sculptures had somehow gotten worse. Shang Qinghua finally had to admit that maybe he’d been working too hard. But he was a starving artist! What was he supposed to do?

Luckily, he’d managed to finish a commission that would give him a couple month’s rent and food, so he could take a much-needed break.

But his fingers still itched. Even though he’d taken this time off to rest and recover, he simply had to make… something. So, he decided to make something for himself.

He had plenty of chicken wire and just enough clay, so he started sculpting a man. 

As he molded and scraped and smeared and carved, Shang Qinghua felt a little better. This piece was just for him, after all. He created it without worrying about putting it in a tiny art show or desperately trying to sell it off. 

After all, who hadn’t thought about creating their perfect man before? 

He’d lost track of how long it took for him to make this piece, but when it was done, Shang Qinghua felt a flutter of pride.

He was tall, muscular, with pecs you could get lost in, hair that flowed down his back like water, an icy stare that could drop the room a couple degrees, and… Shang Qinghua glanced at the place between his legs that he’d covered with a sheet. 

He’d taken life drawing classes! Why was this so embarrassing?

As he looked over his creation, Shang Qinghua sighed. It was fun to create for himself, especially to create his ideal guy… but he was just clay. Clay and chicken wire.

The buzzer to his door snapped Shang Qinghua out of his reverie. 

“Finally!” He sighed with relief. He’d forgotten how long ago he had placed his food delivery order.

He probably looked like he'd rolled around in a mud pit, so he was thankful he’d requested the delivery person to just leave the bags. However, when he arrived at the door, the delivery person was still there.

“Can I help you?” Shang Qinghua asked through the crack in the door, held shut by the chain.

“Uh, yeah, I just need you to sign the receipt.”

Shang Quinghua knew for a fact that he’d never had to sign a receipt with these people before, and he’d used the same method of payment. Immediately, red flags started popping up. “Are you sure? I don’t usually have to sign.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s a new policy.”

Bullshit. “I didn’t get any email or notice about this.” Shang Qinghua said, trying to be as firm as he could. “Can I please just have my food?”

Suddenly the delivery person took a step forward, grabbing the door, trying to open it further.

“You can have it when you get out here.” He snarled.

Immediately Shang Qinghua realized he was in serious danger. His eyes flicked to the hat the man was using to hide his eyes and noticed it had no logo on it.

This guy wasn’t the food delivery person, and Shang Qinghua would rather not find out who-or what-he was. 

“Y-You need to leave or I’ll call the police!” He left out the fact that his cell was in his studio.

“I don’t think you-” The man suddenly stopped, looking at something behind Shang Qinghua.

Before he could even ask what he was looking at, Shang Qinghua was aware of a presence behind him. Now the terror he had tried to hide from this assailant showed clearly on his face.

Someone was in his home who had not been a moment ago.

Before he could scream, a hand reached over and grabbed the door frame with a worrying “CRACK!”

The intruder leaned over Shang Qinghua, his long, dark hair spilling onto his shoulder from above.

“He said…” A voice Shang Qinghua had never heard before growled. “Get lost.”

The assailant, now stark white, gently placed the bag of food back on the ground, took a few steps back, then bolted back down the street.

Shang Qinghua remained frozen in place as the hair and the presence retreated. Even without turning around, he knew he was still there.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” The voice asked.

Shang Qinghua swallowed the fear (and possible vomit) creeping up his throat and nodded. He undid the chain to retrieve his food, then closed the door again, leaving it unlocked in case he needed to make an escape.

He took a shaky breath and turned around to face the intruder.

The food promptly dropped to the floor.

Standing before Shang Qinghua was the man he had sculpted from clay. He had the same long hair, though it was now black as ink. His skin was pale, but now flushed with life. His piercing gaze chilled Shang Qinghua to the bone, and his… No!! He didn’t dare look! Even though he was now wrapped in the sheet, looking like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

“You…” He managed to squeak out. “You’re my…”

The sculpture waited for him to construct a sentence, a raised eyebrow indicating he’d rather not wait all day.

“How… are you alive?” Was the question Shang Qinghua finally settled on.

“You made me. And then I was awake.” He said.

“Okay, fair…” Shang Qinghua murmured. “Um… What’s your name?”

The sculpture looked deeply unamused. “You didn’t give me one yet.”

“Ah…” Shang Qinghua whispered. “Would you… like one?”

The man gave him an undeniably clear “what do you think?” face.

Shang Qinghua reached into his mind, back to when he fancied himself a writer back in high school. He had even typed up an outline for a book. Something with demons and cultivators and stuff. He remembered one character he’d made as a sidekick to the main character, a powerful general, one who-just like the man before him-he’d made just for him.

“Mobei Jun?”

Mobei Jun seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, and turning away. “You should eat.”

Shang Qinghua quickly scooped up the bag of food, checking to make sure nothing had spilled, then followed Mobei Jun into his kitchen. He’d have to text Shen Yuan later. “What was that one story where the artist’s sculpture came to life?”

[rawkghoulsupreme]

Just like Papa!

Part II to this coming very soon.

I apologize for nothing

Inspired by this post @onlybattles

[megsdoodletag]

slapped some quick colors on the little oddball squad juno collects as a teen, just so i could See them

they'll all get proper portraits and lore posts probably at some point but feel free to ask about them in the meantime

[mechazushi]

After the Fall {AN ACTUAL SHORT STORY THIS TIME} [Kaiju No. 8] (Could be considered as possible Ep11 spoilers; interpreted artistically)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Kafka Hibino." Captain Mina Ashiro started, "No. Kaiju Number Eight. I am taking you into custody." She leveled her gun to him. Her voice as steady as her hands, taking care not to let an ounce of sadness that had filled her soul melt her outward resolve. The companies were distraught and heavily wounded. Most of the infrastructure in the training area had been reduced to ash. An arched border line had been etched into the pavement around them. One side was mostly intact with spider cracks in various locations. The other side was a pale, dusty mess. No surface from the border and beyond was traversable with all of it being splintered, jutting, and uneven.

At the peak of the arch stood a half dissolved monster, melting back into a man. When the flecks peeled off and drifted into the remnants of the wind, a face began to emerge. Kafka Hibino, the former member of the Third Division had ousted himself as the elusive Kaiju Number Eight. He stood stone still, letting fragments of his alter form slough off as he never took his eyes off his captor. He wanted to think he knew what she was thinking, that this is just protocol, that there was no place in her heart that harbored ill will or intent. Mina wouldn't use her gun against him, right? They could still be friends, that he could still fight for his spot at her side.

He couldn't tell. Mina was unreadable as ever and Kafka couldn't blame her. He had been reprimanded enough times to know that this was just how she had to be in front of others in the Division. Her place wasn't a position where she was afforded the leeway to be physically emotional. Emotion was considered weakness, and she had to be strong for the others. To the officers, she was being seen as a strong captain, standing against a Daikaiju threat. It didn't matter that this was Kafka, that everyone had seen that it was Kafka who made a harrowing choice to save the lives of thousands. All they saw now was a monster, no matter how human and familiar its face was.

"Hoshina. I need you to cuff him." Captain Ashiro commanded. Hoshina heard, but was refusing to act. He couldn't bring himself to look at the situation in front of him. A man he trusted, a man he had considered as a friend and compatriot, was confirmed to be a threat to the world. Hoshina wasn't sure at the beginning what Kafka's circumstances were. He knew that things were off, but he chose to ignore them. The whole reason for letting Kafka join as a cadet was so Hoshina could investigate him, and he failed to do even that. All because he couldn't look past his smile. How could a man with a smile so bright and genuine ever be a threat to others. He didn't believe it, refused to believe it. He wasn't going to slap cuffs on a man that didn't have a threatening bone in his body.

But was he a man? Everyone saw Kafka gain impossible speed. They all saw Kafka, as a kaiju, blast into the sky and launched the bomb to a safer distance. Was Kafka a kaiju now because he was strong and dangerous? Or was he still a man because he understood sacrifice? Kaijus didn't need to deal with pesky feelings. They didn't have to worry about what others thought of them. All there was in kaiju minds was to eat and destroy. Kafka could express emotion, and has expressed desire outside of destruction. If Kafka knew that others would turn and run in fear if they knew what he was and what he could do, why did he do it anyway?

"Hoshina." Captain Ashiro commanded again, dislodging her Vice Captain from his thoughts. He still didn't want to do this, still choosing to believe in the man behind the monster's mask, but it wasn't a good idea to make the Captain repeat herself. Reaching into his side pouch, he dug up one of the plastic handcuffs that most officers are issued with. They were issued with the intent that defense members might encounter people taking the opportunity for ransacking during invasions and could preform arrests until the offender could be picked up by proper authorities. Hoshina walked up to Kafka and held the industrial zip-tie in his hands. Every neuron in his skull felt like it was screaming in retaliation, making his hands hesitate in the action of placing Kafka under physical arrest. He almost wanted to laugh. Did anyone here actually think that these meager restraints could hold back a person with a registered fortitude rating? Kafka slowly held out his wrists in front of him, looking like a toddler that was expecting a ruler to come down on them in punishment.

"It's okay. I know." Kafka whispered imperceptibly to him. His head was bowed solemnly, but he looked at Hoshina as his face remained ever reassuring. He almost felt like slapping the look off of him. How dare he act like this. How dare he try to be apologetic and caring for others in this situation. Why couldn't he be an asshole and run, fight, do anything to save himself. For god's sake, why can't he be selfish. Having to deal with a daikaiju on the loose would have been less gut wrenching than having to send a fellow soldier to an uncertain fate.

"Captain Ashiro, I can explain-" Reno Ichikawa was shouting as he came barreling over the fallen debris as nimbly as possible. Following behind at a much slower pace was Kikoru Shinomiya.

"Save it Officer Ichikawa!" Ashiro barked at him, "Telling by your outburst at this time of all places, tells me you have some knowledge on this as well." she holstered her side arm now that Kafka had been successfully restrained.

"You too, Shinomiya. Hoshina told me about his suspicions about how you managed to neutralize the honju at the acceptance trials earlier this year and with you showing up behind Ichikawa here, I can assume that you're in on this too." She began to wordlessly direct those around her and made moves to stand behind Kafka and Hoshina.

"Okonogi, send several vehicles over to the training area. We have multiple wounded and a lot of tired soldiers that I think would rather drive than walk back to barracks. Leader Ebina, gather some of your people and start marking a path through the rubble so we can transport the wounded."

"Roger that, Captain. Do you want me to send an armored vehicle for Kaiju Number Eight?" replied Okonogi. Captain Ashiro looked hard at Kafka, now back to appearing completely human and in the plastic cuffs. Hoshina was looking right at the captain. Blood had stopped dripping down his face minutes ago, but it was still clear that he wasn't in any shape to fight anything more powerful than a mouse right now. She took in the fact that his hands were placed gently on top of Kafka's limply curled fists, a sight that Kafka couldn't pull his eyes away from.

"No. Leave the armored vehicle for now. We might need it to be fueled and stocked for whatever happens tomorrow." Ashiro replied back after serious consideration. With most of the Division looking the way it did, and the person most capable of going head to head with a daikaiju of small size looking like death warmed over, she acknowledged the fact that Kafka; or Kaiju Number Eight, she hadn't stopped her brain from fluctuating between the two, hadn't taken the opportunity to bolt for the hills. She figured if he was going to try anything, he would have as soon as she leveled her sidearm at him. In the bright moonlight over head, she could see the person she once considered a friend chuckle noticeably.

"Thanks for that, Captain Ashiro. Those trucks don't have the best air condi-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear another word from you tonight." Captain Ashiro commanded. She could clearly see the word's effect on him as he visibly flinched at her sharp tone. As the officers around her got into position and steadied their hands on their rifles, she pointed her finger off over Hoshina's shoulder, indicating that they should start moving. Kafka's feet regretfully began to shuffle around to face the direction he was supposed to go in, but when he tried to take an actual step he hissed loudly and nearly collapsed to his knees onto the pavement. Hoshina didn't think for a second as he rushed forward to catch him before he landed, propping himself under Kafka's broad chest and grabbing his shoulder to keep him balanced. The chorus of six safety switches all clicking off in unison could be heard behind the two of them.

"Shit- Sorry, sorry! Knees were locked." Kafka said, glancing over his and Hoshina's connected bodies.

"Sorry." He added, seemingly addressed to no one in particular.

'Maybe that was addressed to all of us.' Hoshina thought as he helped Kafka readjust to his feet. Once he felt okay enough to walk, he began to move forward at a sluggish pace. It was clear to Hoshina that he wasn't walking slow on purpose, and that it really must have taken a lot out of him to propel himself into the air and sucker punch a twenty kiloton yoju bomb into the lower stratosphere. Hoshina kept a hand on Kafka's upper back as he gently guided him through the path Ebina's team had marked earlier. With the moment they were in being as quiet as possible, save for the occasional echoing crash of broken rubble hitting the ground all around them, Hoshina took a second to think.

'I mean, when you think about it, that should be enough to knock the wind out of anyone capable of doing that in that sort of situation.' He stunned himself with the words in his head. How could he even try and logic out what a man with the power of turning into a Kaiju was even qualified to accomplish? This whole situation was absurd and he hated it. He hated everything in that moment. He hated Kafka for putting himself in danger, he hated Captain Ashiro knowing she was only doing her job, he hated himself because he was the one who told Kafka not to get attached to others on the job because God only knows what could happen and here he was, feeling attached knowing damn well that he was going to feel like shit because he was basically loosing the best damn thing this Division had going for it!

Hoshina couldn't writhe in his personal hell for much longer as the group had made it to the busted doors of the training grounds. The remnants of his fight with Kaiju Number Ten as well as debris from the explosion had all been pushed to the sides as best as possible. A few tents had been erected to preform triage and separate the barely scratched from the mortally wounded and treat them appropriately. A rotating convoy of open air trucks and military jeeps were set up at the far end of the street carrying the tired and lightly wounded to somewhere else on base for rest, if it was available for most. All activity seemed to slow, almost stopping in some areas as Kafka led his paltry parade showcasing his imprisonment through the masses. It almost felt like a display of a man being condemned. Okonogi pulled ahead of the line in her own commandeered jeep and pulled it to a stop in front of Kafka and Ashiro. The captain told the six behind her to grab a vehicle for themselves and follow close behind, before wordlessly hopping into the passenger seat of the car. As Hoshina hopped in the exposed backseat, he could hear Kafka groan and hiss as he settled into the spot on the bench next to him.

"Hssssss, haaaa, hoooo. Wow, sitting down. A novel idea. Who knew?" Kafka talked exhaustedly as he fumbled with the lap belt using his restrained hands.

"Miss Okonogi, not to presumptuously assume your driving skills, but you mind being careful and avoiding potholes and barricades on the way to my cell. I'm gonna take a nap." Kafka's head slumped unceremoniously against the metal bar framing the back of the jeep and immediately started to breath heavily, almost as if he was asleep already. His closed eyes meant he didn't get to see Mina's irritated glare she sent his way before she took the clipboard that Okonogi brought with her. Hoshina rested his elbow against the car's sidewall and placed his face in his hand, staring at an unaware Kafka.

'He's asleep. This no good, dirty, rotten, lying, mutant Kaiju bastard is asleep?' Hoshina thought angrily. As he felt the car move forward and tuned out Captain Ashiro and Okonogi's conversation, he realized all he could think about in that moment was him.

'A man saves an entire base and this is how we thank him.' Hoshina's inner monologue continued. He knew he wasn't the only one here who felt like this, and when the news got out in the morning he was sure lots of others were going to have mixed feelings on this as well. Arresting him was for the best, he knew that as well. Good intentions or no, human or no, it didn't change the fact that Kafka can become a kaiju. The whole purpose of the Divisions was to eliminate kaijus. The fact that Kafka was allowed to breathe, let alone sitting in the back of a car with the two most powerful people on base at rock bottom of their best, spoke volumes about how crazy and fucked up these circumstances were. Protocol was kill on sight, and Kafka knows this. Yet here he was, sleeping the rest of his freedom away.

'It wouldn't be hard, either.' Hoshina thoughts continued, 'I may not be able to put up a good fight at the moment, but we can assume he's mostly human right now. He's asleep and tired, which means he's vulnerable' He played with the tip of the handle connected to his sword. 'I could end it all for him right now and he wouldn't be wiser.'

But he wouldn't. Hoshina couldn't lay any hand on him with deadly and harmful intent behind it, now and forever. Monster or Human, it didn't matter anymore. Nothing could ever change the fact that Hoshina had one percent of trust in this man right now. And he wondered if Kafka could feel that too, because why else could he be so blissfully asleep right now.

'He's not going to be like that for long.' Hoshina thought bitterly. The protocol was kill on sight for honju and yoju, yes, but that stopped at daikaiju. they were killed like any other threat, but whatever that was left of the body after the fight was sent off for research. Research and experimentation. Hoshina knew that it was a snowball's chance in hell that the leaders of the Defense Force were just going to let them keep Kafka on base, but were they going to let Kafka stay alive and intact? Hoshina could feel his heart be poisoned and start to cramp up at the thought. He had to look away for a moment , lest tears started to mix with the blood and stain his cheeks even more. It took several sharp breaths and a solid minute of mental filing to help his chest feels normal again.

Hoshina tried to take another look at the mystery that was his fellow soldier. A face as still as a forest pond, covered in already healed scratches. Light from the moon created soft shadows on his eyelids and neck. flickering and shifting in tandem with the shakes and jolts coming from the moving jeep. His worker's tan looking more pronounced than it usually did. Kafka looked stoic and peaceful, which created a stark contrast to the unearthly and demonic visage Hoshina has associated with Kaiju Number Eight. It was an awful situation Hoshina found himself in.

On one hand, he wanted to come across the bench and hold him. Whisper calmly in his ear that everything was going to be okay. That he won't have to worry about whatever that's going to come for him in the morning. On the other hand, he wanted to be the one that was being held. To have all those sweet and empty promises whispered back at him, to be told that things would be fine for him too. Kafka won't have to leave the base, that this whole kaiju transformation business was just the concussion talking, and the base will be back to operational in no time at all.

None of those things were going to happen. The base reconstruction was going to take forever, Kafka was going to have to leave, and nothing was going to be fine. Hoshina turned away again, feeling the chest tightening again and wanted to keep his tears to himself for the time being. He couldn't cry now because there was a superior officer present and didn't also want to wake Kafka. He couldn't cry in the morning because he needed to be strong in the face of whatever decision that was to come down on his officer's head. As the first shifts of color indicative of the approaching dawn began to brighten the night sky, Hoshina tamped down every bit of emotion he had to let out later into the first few minutes of however much sleep he was going to get in those twilight hours.

This was going to be a rough few months, wasn't it?

[blametheeditor]

A Little Bit Goes A Long Way

Run Down: To be faced with your own mortality, would it change you for the better, or worse? David never thought he'd have to answer such a question.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Death scenes. Slight gore. Mentions of death and murder. Peril. Calling someone 'it' or 'thing'. Experiments. If you're new to this household, only happy endings, but certainly a roller coaster

*Cough cough*

______________

One minute, David is storming into the kitchen to demand why it’s taking twice as long as usual for food to be delivered out into the dining room. 

The next, the suited man is nearly sent flying back into the hallway from the swinging door slamming into him. Barely gets out of the way in time before a shoe as big as a bus stomps on him. Feels his limbs lock up and refuse to move as he slowly realizes what’s in front of him. 

He’s still in the kitchen of Fazbear Entertainment Center, all too familiar with the layout he changed around after signing paperwork that made him the sole owner of this franchise restaurant, as well as the faces of those he hired who were competent enough to keep their jobs for more than a week. He had opened the door a few feet away only a few seconds ago. 

And yet, somehow, everyone and everything currently tower over him. David couldn’t move the door a single inch now no matter how hard he tried. A rolling counter has wheels that are as tall as him and easily provides a place for him to hide. Chefs and waiters seem more like skyscrapers than people he signs paychecks for. 

That’s not the worst part. The sounds of people talking and food being made are so loud it makes his head feel like it’s going to split open. Simple actions such as walking within ten feet of him cause earthquakes that shake him to his core.

David can’t help but stare. He can’t look away despite knowing he could be killed at any moment if he doesn’t get to safety. Feels himself begin to tremble as it becomes harder and harder to deny what’s in front of him is real. 

Even though it’s impossible for someone to suddenly shrink, there’s no denying the proof before him. Unless he’s simply having an incredibly vivid dream, or hallucination, or something because this can’t be real. 

“Are those pizza’s done?” 

“Careful, how many times do I have to tell you-!” 

“Door!” 

David feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and in that moment dives under the service cart that stands beside him. Groans from his ungraceful landing before staring in horror as the door opens and someone steps directly where he had been only a  few moments ago. The thought of what would’ve happened, the idea this isn’t a dream and that could’ve been the end decides he’ll be treating this like it’s life or death. 

The business man tries to ignore his heart thumping painfully against his chest as he watches the bustling kitchen, catastrophic giants unaware of his presence. Reminds himself he can’t get stepped on while he cowers under the service cart. He’s safe, at least for now. Unless someone realized what happened and are searching for him. Or the cart gets moved. Or something gets dropped and- 

“Nope,” David murmurs as he closed his eyes to block out the world, clenching his fists to focus on something other than the constant trembles through the ground. 

Those kinds of thoughts are not helpful. He needs to think about finding a safe place, then figure out a plan on how to get his proper height of six feet. But safety’s first. 

...where the hell would he be safe at a size where shoes can crush him like a spider. 

Taking a deep breath in the attempt to calm his nerves, David opens his eyes one at a time. Forces himself to look at the layout down at the ground. Ignoring the fact everything that’s familiar is now deadly, just focusing on places he can run and hide without putting himself in danger. 

Going anywhere near the door is completely off limits. But if he travels further into the kitchen, there’s potential for a safe place to at least wait until the restaurant closes. Such as the toe kick space under the counters, though there’s not much depth to it and someone could spot him from the right angle. There’s small space under the ovens that goes as far back as the wall and seems to have the most cover, but he wouldn’t know if it’s too hot to stay down there. Out of everything, the pantry might be the best option, with plenty of shelves to hide under, and he’d be the farthest away from any possible incidents prone to happen in busy kitchens. 

With that settled, now he just has to figure out how to get there. There’s no cover between where he is now and the pantry door, just a full mile of open air in which he’d be completely vulnerable to dropped items, shoes, and being spotted. 

An involuntary shiver runs down David’s spine at the thought of someone seeing him. That would open an entire can of worms, especially if it’s realized he’s human instead of a pest. Getting killed is one thing, but there’s no telling what someone would do if they get their hands on him. It could range from making him pay for screaming at them because they weren’t doing their job right, to selling him to make a quick buck. 

A glance is sent toward the wheels of the cart he’s currently using as shelter. Because while this could be moved, it doesn't necessarily mean it will be. It had been put here for a reason. He can’t remember if this is normally here every other day, meaning it’s a toss up if it’ll get moved again. 

Which one’s better, then? Taking a chance out in the open, or hoping no one moves the cart? 

...what if he moves the cart? 

David stares at the large wheels for a moment before walking closer, willing to at least give it a try no matter how ridiculous the idea seems. If this actually works, he’ll take it. Though, he does hesitate to actually touch the wheel once he’s close enough to see just how filthy it is. Flinches when it dawns on him he’ll be covered in dust and dirt by the end of this ordeal. 

He sighs long and hard with the reminder of yet another earthquake it’s either this, or an almost guarantee of getting crushed. Grits his teeth and tries to shove at the wheel with all his might. Growls when doesn’t budge, changing his position only to end up with the same results. Meaning he did that for absolutely nothing. 

David looks back out at the kitchen. Narrows his eyes when he realizes the large island is closer to him than the pantry. And if he runs from the island to the counter...he’ll be covered for almost the entire walk. 

It’ll be a lot more work, and shoes are constantly walking between all of the counters, but it’s certainly safer. 

Now there’s three options. He doesn’t like any of them, but he hadn’t asked to get shrunk so these are the cards he’s been dealt with. As shitty as they are, he just has to make the most of them. 

Honestly, taking the long path to the pantry seems like his best bet. It almost seems like he’s been taking too long, so he needs to- 

His train of thought is lost when he sees a pair of shoes suddenly begin to walk toward him. And then words are booming through the air almost directly above. 

“Hey, is the cart claimed?” 

Fuck. 

David freezes. Almost screams when the wheel beside him is suddenly turning, scrambling to get a safe distance away. Feels his blood run cold when the entire thing begins to move. And then David starts running. 

He runs after the cart. If there was time to think, he might’ve recognized that as the worst thing he could’ve done, but adrenaline had taken control. The only thing he knew was that his only shelter was being taken away, and there was nothing he could do about it except follow. 

It could’ve ended with him getting caught under a wheel. With it stopping abruptly and him slamming into it. Getting left behind and ending up underfoot from someone walking past. 

None of those happen. Somehow by some miracle David stays with the cart before almost colliding with the underside of the counter. As soon as he hits the wall, he collapses, legs trembling so harshly it’s impossible to stay standing. Arms and chest aching after taking the brunt of the impact. 

But he made it. He made it and that’s all that matters. 

The business man pants, choking on air a few times. Takes a few minutes to slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. Makes the promise to fire every single person on staff for not realizing someone’s peril despite it happening right in front of them. It would be seen as unfair, and he could be sued for a lot of money considering he most likely wouldn’t be able to prove anything, but the thought makes him feel a lot better considering everything. It’d also be worth it. 

David doesn’t know how long it takes to recover, just that it’s dangerous for him to stay any longer. So despite the fact his limbs are still shaking, he carefully pushes himself to a stand. Absolutely refuses to take off his suit jacket even though that would make running easier and help keep him from overheating. Like hell he’s loosing an expensive piece of clothing. He might be shrunk and fighting for his life, but he still has standards. Would rather die with dignity over living with a tarnished reputation. 

Call him shallow and egotistical. The train of thought was able to calm him down, however. Distracted him from the thundering footsteps walking right past him as he walks under the cabinet's toe kick. Hoping its true purpose is rarely used. Unsure if he should be glad he’s short enough he doesn’t have to worry about hitting his head on the overhanging wood, or miffed that he’s shorter than four inches tall. 

The conundrum is forgotten as he turns a corner and becomes face to face with clog, one that’s not blocking his way, but the toe of the shoe so close David could walk forward and shove at it. 

Of course that wouldn’t do anything. The owner of the shoe wouldn’t even notice the attempt. With such a catastrophic object that he’s been terrified of ever since shrinking just staying in one place, it’s almost a slap in the face just how small he really is. He’s not even the size of a mouse that can easily clamber over the shoe. More like a large insect that would need to laboriously climb if it blocked his path completely. 

...he didn’t even think about that. Giants are terrifying, but what if he encounters animals at this size? There’s no shooing away a rat or crushing a roach beneath his shoe, they’re now threats to him instead of nuisances. 

Good news, as long as he doesn’t leave the restaurant, he should be perfectly safe. He ensured all pest had been eliminated on the first day, and has an exterminator on speed dial whenever someone reports having seen so much as a shadow creeping along the ground. 

As for the giants, he can hope he doesn’t have to interact with one anytime soon. 

“Is an oven finally open?” 

“Everything that was cooking the previous round is done. Did you forget to pull the pizza’s out?” 

Part of David wants to yell about how much those he hired are dumbasses to not check if something was left in the oven. The other part slumps in relief as the person standing at the island quickly leaves. The only condolence is the fact it doesn’t smell like something’s burning. 

He needs to focus. Forget about what’s happening around him, concentrate on getting somewhere safe. Fire everyone later. 

David looks across the vast distance from where he stands to the line of cabinets that connect to the pantry. This time, there isn’t a service cart to act as cover as he runs across. It’ll just be him, completely exposed. 

He already feels himself begin to shake at the thought of making such a risky move. His muscles protest at running the large distance in which the only time he’d be able to stop is when he gets to the other side. 

What if he doesn’t make it? What if someone walks by and never notices a miniscule figure? What if they do notice and trap him inside a jar? And what happens if he stays here? The toe kick is only four inches deep, that’s not enough space to guarantee safety. 

David steels himself before carefully leaning out from under the counter. Looks up to barely make out the timer’s on the oven saying there’s ten minutes left. Glances at his left where the pantry sits, door shut tight with the lights currently off. Checks his right to see this area of the kitchen void of stomping shoes. 

Go.

He doesn’t hesitate, knowing this might be his only chance, and sprints. Without a single look back to make sure no one’s coming. There would be nothing he could do, so he runs. Never slows down even as his legs burn from overexertion and his lungs send sharp pains through his chest. 

Then the ground starts to jump. David can see he’s already past the halfway mark, but cover is still too far away. He can’t turn around and go back because that wouldn’t be any closer. And even as terror races up his spine and he feels his adrenaline kick in, it’s not enough. He would be an idiot to ever think he could outrun a giant. 

He doesn’t stop. Though the footsteps growing closer and closer attempt to trip him with the earthquakes they bring. It’s a miracle they haven’t gotten to him. 

Until someone gives a small gasp. 

“Shit, there’s a bug in here.” 

“Are you serious?” 

David doesn’t stop. The counters are only ten feet away he’s almost there. 

“I can’t tell what it is, but I need to finish this. Can someone take care of it?” 

“I’ll get it, where is it?” 

Just a few more- 

The business man crashes into the counters at full tilt, not realizing he had actually made it. He swears he broke something this time. But he’s alive. He’s alive he made it he didn’t get crushed. 

“It’s under the counters by the stove.” 

It takes just a little too long for David to realize what that means. Stares out at the kitchen, almost confused why one pair of shoes is pointed directly toward him. Are taking steps toward him. Because he’s safe, he made it. 

It finally clicks. That even though he is somewhere he deemed to be ‘safe’, someone saw him, and they’re coming to take care of the pest infesting an area that needs to be sanitary. 

Once it finally processes David is far from safe, he scrambles to his feet even though he wants to do nothing more than to go limp. He doesn’t know what ‘take care of it’ means, but it can’t be anything good. Where is he supposed to go, though? 

If he was in the right state of mind, the idea of going for the pantry would’ve been recognized as the worst thing he could possibly do. Panic can do so many things, however, and the only thing he could think of was his original plan. Meaning it was the only logical thing to do. 

Yet just as he starts to turn and run in that direction, a hand grabs his wrist. Immediately has David turning to look at who it is, unable to remember why that shouldn’t be possible. 

A teenager stares up at David with wide eyes, tugging at his arm in the opposite direction than was previously chosen. “Follow me, hurry!” 

Any other time, David would refuse. This isn’t any other time, though. No, he was shrunk, had ran for his life, and is now being hunted down by a giant. So there’s not a single protest as he’s frantically led toward the ovens. Doesn’t hesitate a single second to continue following as he’s forced to hunch over to duck into the small area normally impossible to gain access to. Sends a look over his shoulder briefly to catch sight of someone searching all the wrong places for him. 

Then the entire kitchen completely leaves his sight, and he’s left with an alien landscape of metal over his head and a dusty floor. The worst part is how it gets dimmer and dimmer the further they walk. But David is now completely safe from becoming an exotic pet or being treated like an unwanted pest. The teenager who saved him from such a horrific fate never letting his arm go. 

That’s when everything starts to catch up with him. The terror of nearly dying. His limbs completely exhausted. No longer feeling dazed to finally process what just happened. 

“Wait,” David begins, breathless as he comes to a stop. As soon as he does, however, his knees buckle and he sits harshly on the ground. Sighs in relief he can finally rest without the threat of ending up dead. 

Instead of leaving him there, the kid immediately kneels down beside him. It’s almost impossible to make out features and expressions in the darkness, but a stranger wouldn’t be indifferent if the first instinct was to stay close. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

David shakes his head.  “Not hurt. Just...ran for my life.” 

“That’ll definitely do it,” the kid murmurs, his voice never raising above a whisper. “I have a safe place we can go, but we can stay here for a bit. We just need to be careful that we don’t overheat.” 

...now that something was said, the business man realizes it is a bit hot where they are. Not burning, but definitely uncomfortable. Especially with the running he previously did and his jacket acting as the main perpetrator for making him overheat quicker than usual. 

But he can survive a few minutes. By then he’ll be able to at the very least stand up again. 

“Here, drink some water.” 

David hadn’t noticed any movement until something is being offered to him. At the promise of it being water, he quicky accepts it, hesitating at the odd texture as his mind recognizes the shape of a cup. Decides it’s not worth making a fuss over and simply drinks. 

It’s water, clean if a bit warm, but he can’t get over just what the fuck he’s using as a cup. “What, is this?” 

“The wat- oh! The cup, it’s just aluminum foil.” 

David stares at the shadowy figure for a moment. Glances up at the metal ‘roof’ above their heads to confirm they’re both only a few inches tall.  “Where did you get aluminum foil?” 

“Long story,” the kid says. “I can tell it to you later. Are you okay to start walking again?” 

David doesn’t want to go anywhere with a complete stranger until he gets answers. Who is this kid? Why does he have supplies? Why was he in the kitchen near the ovens at this exact time? 

It’d be a stupid idea to get on the kid’s bad side now. It was promised there is a safe place to go. So instead of earning himself a death sentence by being left here after making an enemy with the only person who can help him, David bites his tongue to keep from yelling. 

Instead, he carefully stands up, nearly hitting his head on the oven after forgetting there’s not as much space as there was under the counters. “Lead the way.” 

Out of everything, he was not expecting his arm to be grabbed again. “Just to warn you, it’s going to be pretty dark. But I know the way, and I’ve kept the path clear of rodents and insects, so it's not dangerous. Just, terrifying.” 

Wonderful. 

David has to grit his teeth to keep from sprinting in the opposite direction as he’s led to a fairly wide hole in the back of the cabinets. One that’s pitch black and promises a death worst than being treated like a roach. 

Yet the kid doesn’t even stiffen before walking through it. Which means the business man isn’t declaring he’s not going anywhere near it if some teenager is able to be that courageous. Meaning he allows himself to be led down the tunnel without any objection, secretly glad the grip on his arm gets tighter to promise he won’t be let go. 

They walk in complete silence. It amplifies the sound of their footsteps, but it also means they’ll be able to hear something making its way toward them. And then a faint glow appears in the darkness. Getting brighter the closer they get. David feels his chest get lighter when he’s finally able to see there’s a wall to his right, the wooden cabinets to his left, and absolutely no signs of eyes reflecting in the darkness behind him. 

It’s also revealed their destination was a piece of cardboard. 

“Come inside,” the kid encourages. Before David can demand what’s meant by inside, the cardboard is pushed open like a door. 

Admittedly put off by it, David warily walks through the apparent doorway. Finds himself standing in what he can only describe as a third grader’s shitty attempt to make a diorama of their house for a school project. Complete with a bed that’s nothing but a pile of fabrics, a plastic pizza saver repurposed as a table, and odd $1 prizes the restaurant gives away in exchange for tickets scattered across the room that could be interpreted as anything. And he can’t forget to mention candles meant to be put on birthday cakes acting as lamps. 

When he imagined a safe place, an odd hideout tucked in a corner impossible to access from the outside wasn’t it. Then again, what was he expecting? 

After taking in the room, David turns back toward the person who brought him here, finally able to get a good look at the kid now that he isn’t fearing for his life. Looks over the mop of red hair, bright green eyes watching him nervously, the numerous freckles decorating the nose and cheeks. Gives a glance at the patched up clothes so dusty it’s hard to tell what their true colors are. 

“I need answers, and I need them now,” David growls. “Who the hell are you?” 

“My name’s Fritz,” the kid offers quietly. “You’re David, right?” 

“Mr. Harrison,” is automatically corrected. But then the implication has him glaring. “Have we met before?” 

“Briefly,” Fritz begins. “I...h-here, sit down and I’ll tell you everything.” 

David isn’t given a chance to protest. The kid closes the poor excuse for a door before taking off a bag that wasn’t noticed previously to place it on the floor. A cardboard stool for the lack of a better term is then pushed toward him. 

Fritz then grabs an odd vase that looks like it’s made of metal. Untwists the top before extending a hand toward David. “Would you like more water?” 

He's confused, until he realizes he’s still holding the cup from earlier, one that looks like it’s made from the same material of the odd pitcher. Sighs as he hands it over to be refilled, it being abundantly clear Fritz is going to take his sweet goddamn time. David then carefully sits down, genuinely surprised the crude seat holds his weight. Begins to tap his fingers impatiently. Doesn’t think about how his legs appreciate the rest and how grateful he is for the water after such an arduous adventure. 

“When and where did you shrink?” 

David gives a look at the explanation starting with a question. “Not too long ago, about an hour or so. It happened right as I walked into the kitchen.” 

“The same thing happened to me,” Fritz reveals as he stares down at the table. “I walked into the kitchen to take an order out to a table, and then I just...shrunk.” 

David freezes. So this is apparently a thing that just happens? How is that even possible? Have other people been shrunk as well? Why didn’t he notice employees disappearing? 

And why has Fritz stopped talking? 

A sigh is withheld at the teenager looking as if he’s remembering something unpleasant. “And when did that happen?” 

“A-A few months ago,” is barely said loud enough to be heard. 

...wait. Hold on. 

David wants to call bullshit. There’s no way someone only a few inches tall has managed to survive for a couple of months. David almost died within the first hour. Fritz has to be lying. 

Except, the kid can’t be. The pilfered items scattered around the room seems more than what could be collected in a single day, or even in a full week. Fritz also looks underfed and exhausted. The long term kind. Like he really hasn’t had access to proper care for a while. 

Suddenly, David feels sick to his stomach. At the thought someone could’ve been crushed under the sole of his own shoe, and he never would’ve known. At the realization that if Fritz shrank more than a month ago, and is still shrunk, then the business man’s future is bleak. 

“So you have no idea what caused this.” 

“Not a single clue.” 

Then he really is stuck at this size for the rest of his life. However long that is. 

David stares at Fritz. “What have you done during these past couple months?” 

The teenager shrugs, looking everywhere but at the business man. “Surviving. The kitchen wasn’t the worst place to end up since I have access to food and water. After a month I ventured out into the main area after the restaurant closed. I couldn’t really go far, though. The animatronics could spot me, or I wouldn’t get back to safety before someone came in for the morning shift.” 

A shiver travels down David’s spine at the thought of encountering the animatronics at this size. Quickly pushes the thought away for a different time. “And no one realized you were missing?” 

Fritz flinches at his question. Finally meets his gaze with glossy eyes. “Did you?” 

For the first time since he could remember, David feels remorse. For not knowing someone who worked for him vanished without a trace. A kid for that matter. Didn’t care because he fired people daily, what was one waiter out of the multiple he goes through in a single week. The worst part is that instead of someone going into debt or not being able to pay rent for the month, Fritz had been damned to this kind of hell. 

Even though David would never have thought someone shrunk, he should be able to say he at least looked for Fritz. Make a missing report, check the cameras. If he had, who’s to say he wouldn’t have found the kid. Because attempts were most likely made to get someone’s attention. If David had been looking, would he have noticed? 

David clears his throat. “I will not live like this.” 

Fritz shuffles nervously. “Um, is there someone you could call?” 

The business man almost scoffs before freezing. Because he does not like the idea at all. But it’s either call someone who can at least offer help, or live off of dropped crumbs in his own restaurant. And he’d rather die than take the second option. 

“How the hell would we call-” 

David cuts himself off. Doesn’t address Fritz’s confused look, too embarrassed to look the kid in the eye. Instead, he digs his phone out of his pocket. Blinks against the light much too artificial against what the candles emanate. Stares in disbelief he actually has service. 

“Does it-?” Fritz begins, voice filled with awe. There’s no response to his question. David allows the screen to turn off as he stares at it. 

Who should he call? 

David doesn’t trust a single person on this earth except himself. That means he would have to completely rely on someone he normally wouldn’t even at six feet tall. And considering just how small he is, trusting the wrong person could end with his demise, even if that wasn’t their intention. 

Alright, if he thinks about this logically, his best bet would be Scott. Because if anyone knows about dealing with the impossible, it’s the man who’s William’s lapdog. 

...fuck, William. 

David doesn’t know why it took him so long. His boss is a smart man, knows how to get what he wants. But he’s also created a monstrosity David wishes he never had the honor of meeting. And if William is capable of making something like a certain mutated grape he had first been told was a highly advanced AI, then shrinking someone wouldn’t be completely out of the question. 

Why the fuck did William shrink him! 

“Da- Mr. Harrison?” Fritz asks with a worried look at David’s hand clutching his phone like he wants to break it.  “Are you okay?” 

No, he is far from okay. Good thing he’s able to finally take his anger out. Scrolls through his contacts before selecting Scott’s phone number. 

It takes a few moments for the call to actually do through, but it’s picked up on the first ring. “Hello, hello, David.” 

“My restaurant, 8 o’clock sharp. William has given you quite the mess to clean up,” David snaps. Not in the mood for pleasantries. Even if Scott is a giant to him. 

“I’m not a dog,” the sandy haired man growls. “I would also appreciate a little bit more information.” 

“Come to the kitchen, watch where you step, and listen carefully. Is that enough information for you?” 

“David, are you serious? At least tell me what Afton apparently did.” 

“He apparently shrunk me so I’m shorter than four inches tall and currently hiding behind the cabinets,” the business man huffs. 

Scott suddenly goes silent on the other end. When a minute passes, David checks his phone to make sure the call wasn’t dropped. 

“I swear to God,” the older man breathes. “If you’re lying-” 

“I’m not,” David interrupts. “8 o’clock, kitchen, watch where you step.” 

“Stay safe until then.” 

With that, they both hang up. And David’s met with Fritz looking a mixture of horrified, hopeful, and another emotion he can’t quite identify. 

“I, I-I take it you know someone who can help?” the teenager asks. 

Right. Fritz doesn’t know anything about the truth around Fazbear’s. Granted, it took David a few months to have a proper initiation, but he’s not a small fry employee. He has a lengthy contract that ensures his safety while working for the company. The teenager, on the other hand, is as disposable as the other night guards. If he’s being honest, William might’ve assumed the kid would’ve died within a few hours. Might’ve used him as a guinea pig. 

Surviving multiple months at this size is something William would at least have to respect, right? Or, would that just prove the kid is a liability that needs to be silenced. 

Now David’s faced with a choice. Have Scott meet Fritz, and they both confront William on getting the kid back to his normal size. Or, they play it safe, and David promises to find and care for Fritz once the business man is at his proper height. 

One look at the resigned expression conquering Fritz’s face, and it seems like his thoughts were heard. 

“Th-There’s still a few hours until 8. Would you like to rest for a bit?” 

“You won’t leave this room, will you?” David finds himself asking. Not because he’s protective and genuinely worried for the kid who could get into trouble before help arrives. He’s certainly responsible over Fritz, though. Meaning he can’t let anything happen under his watch. 

Fritz thinks it over for a moment. Nods his head. “I’ll stay here.” 

David doesn’t say another word. He drinks the rest of the water, turns to the poor excuse of a bed, and flops heavily into it. Uncaring if the owner hadn’t meant to give him permission to claim it for a nap. 

And if there was any objections, the business man was already falling asleep before he could hear them. 

”You killed him.”

David whirls around to see Scott staring at him like he’s some kind of monster as they stand in a kitchen that’s all too familiar. 

Anger flairs up, and the want to punch the shorter man in the face rises like a tide. He’s being judged like he’s some kind of murderer? What about Scott being best friends to a literal monstrosity? What about him following the orders of someone like William? What about the night guards? 

“I haven’t killed anyone,” David snaps. 

“Oh really?” Scott growls. “Someone didn’t disappear during a shift inside your own restaurant?” 

The business man bristles. “How was I supposed to know! It’s not like I would’ve known he shrunk. And he’s a teenager, they always walk out without telling anyone and just refuse to show up for work the next day.” 

“Do you know how many times he tried to get your attention? Tried to ask for help? Do you know how many times you ignored him?” 

...is that true? Did Fritz make it all the way to his office at some point? Did David nearly crush him like an irate gnat? Unimportant and nothing but a distraction from his work? 

“What about you? Don’t act so high and mighty when you have actual blood on your hands. How many guards died because your recordings didn’t tell them how to survive?” 

“The difference,” Scott muses. “Is you feel guilty.” 

That’s an implication he doesn’t like for numerous reasons. The confirmation Scott doesn’t care people die despite it being his fault. The truth David is remorseful to not notice someone vanishing from his own staff. That he was close to playing a large part in William’s game without even knowing it. That his actions do have consequences. 

“I didn’t kill him.” 

“Don’t lie to yourself. He’s only alive because he fought for his life. You still pulled the plug.” 

“How was I supposed to know!” David shouts. “I didn’t ask for this! My job is to help the reputation of the company, nothing more! It’s not my fault William thrust this kind of responsibility on me!” 

“Neither did I,” Scott says so condescendingly David's fists clench automatically. “You don’t see me mourning every guard that gets killed, do you?” 

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” 

“And you’re any better? Tell me, David, what’s the real reason you don’t want to bring him to Afton?” 

“That’d be a death sentence.” 

“Or it’d be his only salvation,” Scott shrugs. “Let’s look at the savior complex you currently have. If you’re truly worried Afton would kill him to tie up loose ends, then what? Would you actually take care of someone you barely know?” 

David bristles. “Of course I would.” 

“Oh?” and he’s this close to giving in a punching Scott. “As a person, or as a toy.” 

He wouldn’t, no, David wouldn’t do that. He’s seen what it’s like being this small first hand. Nearly died numerous times, he wouldn’t offer Fritz help and only treat the kid like a desk trinket. Technically that would still be better than the way he’s currently living, but the business man wouldn’t do something like that. He’s an asshole but he’s not cruel. 

Yet he can’t help thinking about what will happen a month from now. When Fritz becomes more of a burden than anything. The one thing David can’t stand are people who contribute nothing to this world. It wouldn’t be the kid’s fault, he didn’t ask to be shrunk, but old habits would die hard. 

And David...he’ll forget what it’s like to be that small. Will stop being careful, won’t pay enough attention, and get upset if he’s told about his mistakes until- 

“Well?” Scott probes as David refuses to answer. Makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat after the silence stretches on. “They deserve more, David.” 

Now they’re talking about more than just Fritz. About the people he stepped on to get to where he is now. Everyone he’s fired from every business he’s helped in his career, uncaring about how it will affect their lives. 

Actually, you know what, he’s calling bullshit. David deserved getting to where he is. He’s done nothing wrong, and Scott of all people has absolutely no right to judge him. 

He gives into the temptation to wipe the goddamn smirk off the fossil’s face. Raises a hand as he steps forward to grab Scott’s shirt. 

Feels his heart stop when he hears a soft scream before it’s suddenly cut off. 

...no. 

He doesn’t dare look down at his shoe. Can only stare at Scott sighing long and hard with a sad shake of his head. “I tried to warn you, David.” 

No. 

“I didn’t.” Panic starts welling up inside him, his breathing getting shorter and shorter. “H-He’s not, I didn’t-” 

“You did.” 

No!

The words are only stated matter-of-factly. As if he didn’t just kill Fritz. After surviving on his own for months, and the kid’s fatal mistake was saving David’s life. 

”Was it worth it, David?”

“No!” 

David jolts awake, gasping for air before a panicked yell rises in his throat when all that greets him is pure darkness. Where is he, where’s Scott, and where’s- 

“David?” a voice suddenly calls. One the business man almost lunges at to confirm it’s real it has to be real he didn’t kill Fritz. “Oh, the light, sorry! Hold on, I’ll light one.” 

It sounds like actual footsteps and someone moving things around. But without being able to even see his own hands right in front of him, David can’t help but think his talk with Scott was reality and this is the dream. A sick and twisted nightmare where he’ll be forced to hear the kid, but never see him. 

Then there’s sparks, and a flame appears to reveal a corner of the room, as well as a short figure with red hair. 

Offers an apologetic smile before it turns into concern. “Dav- Mr. Harrison, are you okay?” 

Fritz is alive. Fritz is alive. 

David watches for a moment to ensure the kid doesn’t disappear. Once he determines it won’t happen, he flops back into the nest of fabric. Remembers lying down to take a nap. And the promise Fritz wouldn’t leave the room without him. 

“Just...wasn’t expecting to wake up to an empty void,” he manages to grumble. 

“Sorry,” Fritz repeats. “I just didn’t want to waste the light. But I forgot you wouldn’t be used to it.” 

David doesn’t respond. Too drained to do anything more than watch Fritz’s silhouette walk around the room. Almost looking like he’s packing things into the bag from earlier. Realizes he doesn’t know how long he slept for, reaching out to his right to tap on his phone screen. 

7:50pm. The restaurant is closed, everyone on staff should be on their way home after getting everything cleaned, and Scott will be arriving soon. 

Fritz clears his throat. “Would you like to head back to the kitchen to meet your friend?” 

David’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach for more reasons than one. But he forces himself to stand up. Glances at his phone’s battery at 50%. “I’ll lead the way this time.” 

That earns him an incredulous look before he turns on the phone’s flashlight. Fritz jumping back in surprise manages to make his lips curl up. After the scare, the kid beams. “That’s so much better then carrying a candle.” 

“Of course it- you've carried a lit candle around?” David demands once he processes the full sentence, sending a glare after the kid as he puts out the flame. 

“It was the only way to see until I got really familiar with the path,” Fritz explains. “I didn’t have a phone, and no one realizes when a pack of birthday candles from a box of hundreds goes missing.” 

Some people would be impressed by the lengths that were gone to adapt. David’s only thinking about how it’s a miracle Fritz didn’t accidentally kill himself by his own stupidity. 

Instead of validating what he was told with a response, the business man makes his way to the ‘door’, Fritz taking the initiative to open it and then close it behind them. Then they slowly walk down the dark path that’s barely illuminated by the week flashlight, but it keeps the darkness from becoming suffocating. It does nothing to calm David’s thoughts, however. Not just his terror on facing Scott at this size, but about what he should do concerning Fritz. 

“Fritz, did you ever try to get my attention after you shrunk?” 

“...a few times.” 

David suddenly stops. Feels Fritz bump into him before the teenager quickly steps back. He then turns so the light shines on both of them. 

Stares down at someone who has every right to yell and scream at him. Every right to hate David for not being there. For leaving him for dead when his life was on the line in the business man’s own restaurant. Failing to make up for his mistake when there were multiple opportunities if he just paid attention. 

Fritz doesn’t glare or even look upset now that the truth is out. The kid just looks...patient. Not entirely resigned, but not hopeful either. Just, waiting. 

“You recognized me when you saved me,” David says. Earns a nod for confirmation. “So why did you?” 

Fritz becomes panicked. “Why wouldn’t I? They could’ve killed you, I couldn’t let that happen!” 

And that’s when David realizes that even if Fritz was angry that his calls for help were never answered, the kid is nothing but selfless. Was willing to save someone who by every definition didn’t deserve it. Give up his resources even with no promise to be repaid for it. 

...unless he’s been hoping David is his only ticket out. 

“I don’t think there will be a way to grow you to your normal height.” 

There. He ripped the band-aid off. It was going to happen at some point. It’s best if the kid knows now so he doesn’t waste anymore of his time. Yell that he never should’ve saved David if he wasn’t at the very least going to finally escape from this hell. 

Fritz jolts like he was electrocuted. Stares at David for a moment as his green eyes well up with tears. Curls in on himself as he looks at the floor. “O-Oh.” 

Silence. 

The kid takes a deep breath, wiping his eyes before looking up again. “Um, would y-you...do you still have a chance?” 

...what? 

“I...I guess I had a feeling,” Fritz continues, voice shaky. “I mean, n-no one was looking for me, and after a week it seemed like this was...permanent. I-I didn’t want it to happen to anyone else, though. As terrifying as it’s been, no one deserves this. You don’t think you’re stuck too, do you?” 

It’s said with such a genuine tone of concern. Not for himself. Purely for David. 

“I don’t know,” the business man says. 

Fritz straightens up. “Th-Then we shouldn’t miss your friend if it’s your only chance!” 

David is a bit too stunned to do anything but allow the kid to grab his arm and guide him down the tunnel. Immediately ducks his head once they exit the hole and make their way into the main part of the kitchen from under the oven. 

“David?” 

Both of them freeze at the booming voice calling for the shrunken man. All at once, the terror he felt a few hours ago comes rushing up, and it demands he stays as still and quite as possible. 

“David, are you in here?” 

Fritz slowly comes back to life at the sound of Scott growing worried. Tugs at David’s arm until the business man starts to follow again. “Y-You trust him, right?” 

It’s a miracle the whispered words weren’t drowned out by the sound of fabric moving. “I-I do.” 

Not much. But enough. 

“David,” Scott rumbles, impatience seeping into his tone and causing the two to flinch. “I’m not in the mood for games.” 

They make it to the toe kick. Blink against the blinding light until they can finally make out the towering figure standing by the kitchen door. 

At this angle, David can see Scott entirely. From his sandy hair, to the obscure band t-shirt, to the black converse shoes. Despite the distance, there’s no denying the man normally half a foot shorter than him is a giant who’s shoes could crush him. Hands with fingers longer than he is tall. Hazel eyes similar to his own as big as his head. 

Ones that are narrowed in their direction. 

“David?” 

Oh shit.

Scott is suddenly walking toward them. Fritz immediately flattens himself against the counters. David, on the other hand, wasn’t quick enough and ends up falling onto his back from the earthquakes. 

“Please don’t be a large insect...” 

Look, David is genuinely terrified. But he can’t stop the feeling of indignation surging through him, finding himself sitting up with a glare meant for Scott for comparing him to a bug. 

It vanishes when a hand slams down a few feet away, a face the size of a billboard leaning down, the massive being going completely still when their eyes meet. 

“Oh my God,” has David recoil when the simple action of Scott talking ruffles his hair and suit. “David?” 

“Sc-Scott,” the business man manages. Feels his entire body trembling. “It’s me, I-” 

He hadn’t seen it coming. Even though Scott set his hand down close by, David thought he would be able to get out of the way in time. He didn’t even see it lift off the ground. One moment it seems harmless, the next fingers are curling around him. 

“No, don’t-!” 

David frantically attempts to scramble away as fear claws at his throat. But he's too slow, much too slow. A thumb the size of his torso settles on his chest at the same time another digit folds over his legs. He shoves with all his might to try and get the finger pinning him down away from him, gasping in pain when it only presses harder, forcing the air out of his lungs. 

Then vertigo makes his stomach flip. Meaning he’s being lifted up. Away from the ground, from safety, closer to the giant that’s staring at him like he’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me.

“I can’t believe it,” Scott breathes. “He actually shrunk you.” 

David gasps as the grip gets tighter, shoving at the thumb and kicking his legs in the hope he can escape. “Scott...tight!” 

“S-Sir, you’re hurting him!” 

Everything freezes. 

“Wha-?” the giant mutters intelligently, and all David can see is Scott’s eyes looking at something down on the ground. Lets out a strangled yell when he’s squeezed suddenly. Pain erupting at the feeling like he was punched in the stomach and chest. 

“Open your hand!” 

David chokes on air as the thumb is finally lifted, curls onto his side as he just concentrates on breathing he can finally breathe. 

He sends a glare up at the giant watching him with a troubled look as soon as he can think again. “What, the fuck, Scott?” 

“I’m sorry,” the sandy haired man apologizes. As if it makes everything better. “I hadn’t realized. Are you hurt?” 

He chose the wrong person to trust. “Put me down!” 

Scott seems apprehensive. But then the hand is lowering, and David suddenly remembers Fritz once the kid comes into his line of sight. Had completely forgotten about everything that happened before a hand attempted to squeeze him to death. 

Bad news, his limbs are too shaky to get him away from the giant who’s proven himself to be deadly. Worse news, Fritz comes running over from the safety of the cabinets despite the fact Scott nearly killed David within the first five minutes. 

“Are you ok-k-kay?” the kid whispers, sending a fearful look up at Scott every other second. Offers a hand that’s immediately taken to help sit David up. Gently pats at his chest before recoiling at a painful groan. “Did anything break?” 

“Did anything break?” Scott repeats, at the very least sounding remorseful. 

“No, nothing broke. But I couldn’t, breathe for a good minute,” David snaps with a wheeze. “Now I owe Fritz for saving my life twice.” 

David was not expecting the weirdest part of his day to watch pupils dilate, unable to help watching in fascination as the brown ring seemingly retracts to reveal an almost gold color. 

Then cold fear races down his back at the realization Scott is looking at Fritz. “Twice?” 

The giant better not touch the kid. “It’s been a long day.” 

“I’ve got time to hear about it,” Scott says, doing a great impression of a thunder storm. Looks between them for a moment. Makes David curse and Fritz jump away when fingers curl in closer. “God, you make me feel like a monster.” 

“You almost crushed me!” 

“Your size,” the giant clarifies with a scowl. And despite the revelation of just how big the man is to them, Scott fails to connect the dots such a seemingly harmless expression only meant to show his frustration makes David shake from the thought there will be retaliation he’ll have no way to defend himself against. “But you’re right, I got grabby when I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. Let’s, start from the beginning.” 

“Fritz help me get down.” 

The kid slowly approaches Scott’s hand again. Grabs David’s arm even as he trembles to help the business man down the surprisingly high platform a palm makes. Nearly collapses onto Fritz when his legs give out because he’s still not at 100%. He’s on the fence whether to feel grateful or fearful of the finger offering assistance to get him standing upright. 

But Scott completely withdrawals his hand once David’s knees aren’t threatening to buckle. And with it, warmth the business man hadn’t realized was keeping the chill of the room at bay. 

David takes a deep breath. Well, as much as he can without it becoming painful. Looks up at Scott towering over them even while kneeling. “I shrunk the moment I walked into the kitchen, and apparently I wasn’t the first one. The same thing happened to Fritz a few months ago, and he managed to keep me from getting squashed because the staff mistook me for a roach.” 

Scott’s jaw drops. “Months?” 

Not what David thought the sandy haired man would latch onto. Then again, it’s not hard to see the kid is just a teenager. He thought the revelation of William shrinking any and all employees would be the most concerning part. But, this is only new to the business man. Scott’s been with the company long enough to be far too familiar with these kinds of scenarios. That anyone’s up for grabs with experiments, not the shrinking. 

David nods, because he has no reason to not believe the timeline. “Does that mean anything to you?” 

Scott hesitates. Looks at the kid cowering in his shadow. “It sounds like he was the first field test if I’m being honest. Did anyone come looking for you?” 

Fritz jumps when David elbows him, giving a small ‘oh!’ realizing the question was directed at him. “Um-m-m, no one called my name. Or, looked under the cabinets. I-I just, I remember a shadow when I first left the kitchen.” 

That sounds like Vincent. And Scott wincing just proves it. “So he was the guinea pig.” 

“He was,” Scott confirms. “I don't understand why Afton would make such a risky move. His parents would’ve-” 

David doesn't catch it until the giant stops talking. But Fritz’s head is...shaking. “Not my parents...” 

And that’s why David never received a phone call about someone missing while working a shift at his restaurant. Why Fritz vanished and no one really noticed. The kid was so unimportant no one would care if he was dead. 

David clears his throat. “Do you think William can grow Fritz back to his normal height?” 

“I-I’m okay Mr. Harrison,” is said at the same time Scott sighs. He pretends he didn’t hear it. 

“Even if he’d be willing to, I don’t think he can. If it took months to shrink you after shrinking him, it meant results he got in his lab weren’t the same as when Fritz shrunk. Meaning he had to make a few adjustments.” 

Meaning the kid is most likely permanently this size. 

Fritz doesn’t make a single sound. Scott’s careful not to betray any emotion. 

“Take us both to William,” David commands. 

“Mr-” 

“You are my responsibility,” the business man growls down at the kid. “Don’t be a dumbass. We’ll see if he can get you back to your proper height no matter how short it is. If he can’t, we’ll go from there. But you won’t be leaving my side to get crushed like a bug or end up as somethings dinner, understood?” 

Fritz stares up at him in shock. Like he was fully expecting to get left behind despite everything he’s done. And, if they’re being honest, that had been a genuine possibility. But David owes the kid his life. Besides, if he ever suggested not bringing Fritz along to fend for himself however long they’d be gone, Scott would kill him. 

That’s the only reason. 

A small but hopeful smile tugs on Fritz’s mouth. “Understood.” 

“Wonderful. Scott, set your hand down and we’ll walk on,” David directs. “Don’t grab us.” 

“I learned my lesson,” Scott murmurs as he sets a hand down palm up in front of them. 

He absolutely hates the idea of willingly putting his life in the hands of the giant. It’s the only way to get to William and demand their rightful size back, though. So with clenched teeth and fists, David steps up onto a middle finger almost as thick as he is. 

One that twitches and sends him tumbling. 

David scrambles to try and sit up, arms raising to protect himself from the bone crushing curling fingers. “Scott please don’t!” 

The hand opens again. “That was reflex, I apologize. I wasn’t trying to pin you, I swear.” 

David kicks at the nearest digit, sending a fierce glare up at Scott. “I’m starting to think even Fritz would be a better giant than you.” 

“I don’t have a guide on what to do when I find someone who was shrunk,” the sandy haired man defends. “This is new for both of us. And I don’t think you realize how ticklish you can be.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. You feel like a large bug crawling into my hand,” Scott smirks. Before David can protest, the giant looks away, face softening. ��He’s okay, Fritz. Just a little rumpled.” 

“Way to scare the kid,” the business man grumbles as he sits up. Sees Fritz shaking like a leaf with skin so pale his freckles look like they’ll jump right off of him. “It’s safe, Fritz, Scott’s just a dumbass.” 

A small step forward as the strap to the bag is held in a white-knuckle grip. A careful step up onto Scott’s first finger. A fearful glance at the giant before another tentative step. There’s a shuddering breath as Fritz continues onto the hand until he makes it to Scott’s palm and immediately sits down. Curls up in a tight ball as he looks around in terror, expecting the fingers to snap shut around them at any moment. 

David slaps at the giant’s thumb. “Why didn’t you trip him?” 

“I was expecting it that time,” Scott grouses. “Unlike some people, I learn from my mistakes.” 

He doesn’t try and refute the claim. Not when he latches onto the fact that Scott now holds both of them. To do whatever he wants with. Put them in a pocket to take home instead of William. Close his hand until he crushes them mercilessly. Trips while walking and let them fall a hundred feet to the unforgiving ground. 

“Ready?” shakes him to his very core. 

...Scott will keep them safe. 

David nods once. Gasps when the hand lifts up way too quickly, gravity flattening him against the palm. Yelps and the same time Fritz shrieks when the ride up suddenly stops, leaving both of them lifting into the air before falling back down. 

This was the worst idea he’s ever had why did they ever trust a giant. 

“Are you two okay?” Scott asks, sounding confused as to why he earned such terrified reactions. 

“You...have no idea how physics works, do you?” David breathes, trying to get his heart to calm back down from the scare. 

Scott stares before his eyes widen, making a soft ‘ah’. “Was I too fast?” 

"Both starting and stopping.” He looks over at Fritz, relieved the kid at least doesn’t seem traumatized. 

“I’ll go slower,” Scott reassures. This time, the giant doesn’t wait for confirmation they’re ready, instead starts to stand up without warning. 

It feels like David’s stomach got left far behind, and he doesn’t dare try to look over the edge of the hand. But to Scott’s credit, he’s much slower. Careful to not abruptly stop so it feels like they’ll go flying. When they don’t scream again, the giant takes it as a que to continue on his journey. Turns slowly, but wind still tussles their clothes and hair. Footsteps jostle them so harshly it feels like their teeth might crack. 

“Feeling okay?” Scott asks. 

“Fine,” David spits out, not wanting to be reminded he’s being held tens of feet above the ground, completely vulnerable to someone he barely trusts on a good day. Catches sight of Fritz looking ten times worse than him, eyes shut tight and holding his knees as close as possible like his life depends on it. “Fritz?” 

“H-H-Heights,” is all the kid can say. 

That must be the worst phobia to have while shrunk. Scott’s sympathetic look says the giant agrees. “If there’s anything I can do to make it better-” 

Scott doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Because the second he steps through the kitchen doorway, David’s falling. Lands before he can try to scream. Braces himself for nothing but blinding hot pain. 

Nothing happens. When he opens his eyes, he sees Scott sitting on the ground, hand on his head as he groans from pain. And the sandy haired man is his size. 

What the fuck just happened? 

David pats down his chest. Winces at the pain from it still tender from Scott squeezing him, but other than that, he’s perfectly fine. No broken bones. No ruptured organs. He’s unhurt, and most importantly, he’s six feet tall again. 

...where’s Fritz? 

“Fritz?” David calls. Looks to his right and left. Next to Scott. But the hallways void of the teenager. Meaning he didn’t grow back to his normal height. “Fritz?” 

“David?” Scott blinks. Gasps when it hits him David grew. “How-? 

“Where’s Fritz?” the business man demands. Looks at hands completely empty of miniscule figures. Feels his heart clench at the thought the kid fell. “Scott where’s Fritz?” 

The sandy haired man gapes at him. Once it processes, once he realizes what it means to not know where the kid is, his eyes dart across the floor. “I don’t know. I didn’t even see what happened, I was just knocked into the wall.” 

“Fritz,” David all but pleads. Not daring to move. Afraid he won’t see the kid if he does. Afraid what he might find. “Don’t be an idiot, tell us where you are, kid.” 

“M-M-M-” 

His eyes snap over to the kitchen door at the softest sound he’ll ever encounter. Stares unblinkingly at the tiny figure trying its hardest to become part of the wall. Breathes a sigh of relief when it doesn’t disappear and the familiar features of red hair and a bag over the shoulder confirms it’s Fritz. The kid’s alive, the kid’s alive. 

“You dumbass,” David berates as he turns toward Fritz, careful to go as slow as possible to not spook him, especially with how the poor kid looks like he’s going to bolt at any moment. Trembling so badly it’s impossible to miss despite how small he is. 

Was David really that size? So miniscule that a strong breeze could knock him over? Not even as tall as one of the checkered tiles on the floor? It makes him want to do nothing more than pick Fritz up so he’s safe from everything that could possibly hurt him. David is all too familiar with how dangerous it is to be alone on the ground. 

“Took you long enough.” 

The voice makes David’s skin crawl. After checking to make sure Fritz won't move, he looks down the hallway to see a living shadow standing a few feet away. 

“What the hell do you want?” the business man growls, not happy Vincent decided to show up. What a fantastic end to the worst day of his life. 

“I was just going to make sure you didn’t lock yourself in the kitchen all night,” the purple man shrugs. “I assumed you didn’t want to stay three inches tall for a full 24 hours.” 

That sick son of a bitch. “You mean to tell me that if I had gone right back through that goddamn door, I wouldn’t immediately grown again?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

David’s head snaps over to give Scott a seething glare, silently demanding he take responsibility over his mutated grape. The sandy haired man sighs, fixing Vincent with an unimpressed look. “Was Afton’s intention to put David’s life in danger?” 

“Not at all. But accidents happen, and David deciding to go into the kitchen in the middle of a rush instead of during his rounds after the restaurant's been locked up was just unfortunate timing.” 

“Unfortunate?” David seethes. “I was nearly killed! Several times! Why didn’t you come to save me!” 

“I wasn’t around to help,” Vincent smiles and fuck him. “Besides, it was a happy accident. We’ve been trying to get your companion to come out of hiding for a while now, so I’ll just be taking him and be on my way.” 

Companion? Who-? 

David’s hand hovers protectively over Fritz. “And what exactly will you do with him?” 

“A few tests, a physical, a questionnaire,” Vincent lists. “After that, he no longer has any use.” 

That means Fritz is disposable. After surviving for so long, and is only reward is to be killed once William gets all of the information he wants. 

“You won’t return him to his proper size?” David questions. 

“Can’t,” Vincent says. “Though, if it was possible, he’s a liability, and we can’t have that. You know that, David.” 

Maybe he does. Because that was why he was hesitant about bringing Fritz to William. The cruel man can’t let experiments wonder around. Not with the possibility it can be traced back to Fazbear’s. 

And maybe he doesn’t really give a shit what William wants. “Then he won’t be leaving with you.” 

“It’s not a choice, David.” 

“He’s not hurting anyone, Vince,” Scott pipes up, and the sandy haired man might not be as heartless as originally thought. “He’ll stay within the company, David and I will make sure no one gets their hands on him.” 

“It’s a bit too risky for William, Scotty. What he says goes.” 

“He’s my employee,” David counters. Barely holds back a flinch as amber eyes lock on him with a death stare. The kind that says he’s pushing it. “He got shrunk in my restaurant under my payroll. That means I have first say. And I say he’ll stay here, completely out of the public eye. No one will know he exists.” 

Vincent stares at him for a long moment. David is expecting a knife to slice his throat open at any second. 

The purple man hums. “I will inform William. I may return with orders that it’s your life, or his.” 

They can’t give a response, not when Vincent disappears into the shadows. He fucking hates that thing. 

“Afton’s going to make you pay for that,” Scott huffs. 

“I already can’t go into my own damn kitchen without shrinking,” David growls. “I think I’ve paid plenty.” 

He then ignores Scott completely, turns to Fritz cowering under his hand. Glad the kid didn’t make a break for it, because who knows if that would’ve triggered the mutated grape into hunting him down. 

“Back to you being a dumbass. If I call your name, you better answer, or else I think you’re dead. Are we clear?” 

Fritz seems to look down in shame, but he nods his head in agreement. “Yes, s-sir.” 

David sets his hand in front of the kid. Curls his fingers in twice as a command for Fritz to climb on. “We’re getting you some proper food, and then we’ll talk about arrangements.” 

There’s hesitation. “You...y-you’re letting me stay?” 

“And making sure you’re properly taken care of,” David says. “It won’t be perfect, but you won’t have to risk your neck just to survive.” 

It’s the least he can do. Fritz has more than earned it. And the kid doesn’t deserve to die by William’s hand after surviving against all the odds. 

Miniscule shoes walk across his fingers, David smirking at the fact Fritz isn’t even as tall as his thumb. And unlike Scott, there’s no twitching to send the kid tumbling. Slowly lifts his hand up until they’re eye level without any turbulence. 

If he didn’t know Fritz was there, it’d be hard to feel the miniscule weight of an entire person in his hand. But the kid is here. Terrified, refusing to look anywhere except the palm he’s sitting in, breathing short and quick, 

Instead of an overwhelming sense of power, all David feels is the need to protect. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t lift a finger to nudge at the kid, absolutely fascinated by the miniscule movements of surprise. He could definitely get used to this. 

With the confirmation Fritz is alright, David tucks his hand against his chest before carefully standing up. Looks over at Scott standing up as well and dusting himself off. “Scott, grab a pizza and meet us in the main area.” 

“You can’t grab one?” Scott questions. 

“Not unless you want me shrinking again,” the business man responds as he slowly walks down the hallway. 

He hears a soft ‘I might’, followed by the sound of his request being heeded. Leaving him to glance down to make sure he isn’t jostling Fritz too much. 

David didn’t expect the kid to be looking back at him. “I’m not as bad as Scott, am I?” 

Fritz jolts. “N-No! I mean, he wasn’t bad. Just not...cautious?” 

“He was the worst giant we could’ve asked for,” David declares. 

That earns him a smile. “I wanted to say thank you.” 

This isn't something that earns him a ‘thank you’. This is making up for not being there when Fritz needed him. But he will be working hard for it.��

“I should be thanking you.” 

[morningstargirl666]

Oh yeah, chapter 28 is going to wreck you.

[the-arcade-doctor]

RUSSIAN ROULETTE! Another ScreenShot Game by JOTA'S Arcade!

[themagicbrew]

Trigger warning:Trypophobia 

.

.

.

Fuck it, COMBINE THE ANON'S ASKS. Fan lore underneath

the brood mother.

The Kraang have a multitude of ways of reproducing, making them a highly invasive species. this unique form of evolution allows their species to breed special mutations (i.e. terraforming, shapeshifting, possession, etc) The brood mother is an off-branch of the terraformers. They are known for their large size, sluggish movements and of course, the egg sacks that grow across their bodies. Despite what the name may suggest, Brood mothers aren't always "female" and don't need to be "female". The eggs would grow on the brood mother, Much like a cell cloning itself, the eggs form on their own. They would grow in large amounts, draining the mother of their energy til' they pass. Brood mothers are not built for combat but are important to The Kraang army. They are highly protected figures, usually hidden away and spoilt by workers.

[jgrills]

Do not fight with me anon, don't crowd my inbox, I don't give a fuck about gwiles, and I know your gonna keep cussing me out and calling me slurs, go touch grass nigga.

[theroyalthrones]

Gameplay Again!!

I finally tried the PandaSama ChildBirth Mod! Most if not all are clips from the interactions that come from it.

[alltimefail-sims]

Me, seeing a cute cc hair:

Me, seeing that the cc hair is over 50,000 polygons:

That doesn't sit well with my spirit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wingsy-keeper-of-songs]

Had an idea with another Tav where she is a daughter of a noble Elvish house in Athkatla born to a family of mostly wizards (there are a few instances of sorcery here and there, and it's a family joke that they're the product of sordid affairs ((all said lovingly the family is a kind one)) and she is a Wild Magic Sorceress who has surges when experiencing intense emotions. She's able to have a hold on it until she reaches marrying age and she's arranged to marry a human man from a noble house who is also a mage (he's very similar to Lorroakan actually) and he turns out to be extremely emotionally and psychologically abusive which causes her Wild Magic to surge out of control.

Her family is not sure where these surges have come from (they don't believe such a good match could turn out to be so toxic) so they lock the poor girl up to keep her from harming herself and others. She's still due to marry the Shitty Betrothed, but only once she gets her shit together.

She starts to spiral downwards and her parents decide she needs a change of scenery and take her to Baldur's Gate for a vacation. And then the mind-flayers come....

[littlest-god]

Time to smash out an outline i suppose

[chirpsythismorning]

Y’all will be your own undoing the fact none of you have not even the slightest bit of doubt is rather worrying. what happens if neither is endgame and let’s say Mike is killed off? You can’t say that won’t happen either because you don’t know the same way you can’t say byler is endgame because you don’t know hell even milevens can’t say they’re ship is endgame because they don’t know. Ego is ruining both sides and neither side is correct and shouldn’t proclaim to be.

I'm sorry anon, but I'm not all bylers. While there are a great deal of bylers like myself who have less doubts these days, there are plenty that have mostly doubts. PLENTY. Arguably the vast majority. And for good reason, ie. history.

To be completely honest anon, I don't think you're worried about bylers and their lack of doubts. I think their lack of doubt scares you bc it's caused you to go from confident to having doubts yourself. Why else would you be here on anon all condescending otherwise?

Personally, I'm not even here bc I want to believe byler's endgame. And no offense to those that have went through it, because the whole point of queer-baiting is to basically mock queer fans and lead them on with no intention of following through, but I have never been queer-baited before.

I did however, like many milkvans, go into Stranger Things loving Mike and El under the assumption they were peak romance. I literally skipped all of s2 during my first rewatch to get to their reunion! But genuinely, do we think the show is supposed to be watched that way?? Hell no.

If you're having to skip all of s2, most of s3, most of s4 in rewatches, bc Mike and El are separated, fighting, or broken up, what does that tell you?

If you're having resentments for characters like Max and Lucas and Will and Hopper bc the story has made points to have those characters interfere with your confidence in Mike and El romantically, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you're probably watching the show wrong. To be clear, if you have resentment for ANY of the main characters, you are missing something!!!

And that was my problem back then when I subscribed to these assumptions, because I WANTED to believe Mike and El were the pinnacle of romance, despite the signs incoming that went against it. And what that meant is I had to hold resentments for all the characters, including Mike and El themselves and even the Duffer Brothers for ruining what I WANTED to believe.

After s3, me, my friends, family and quite honestly anyone I spoke to about the show, said that it went downhill since the previous two seasons. And I do think a big part of the reason why, is because of the Mike and El conflict conflating everything. It felt regressive. And s4 repeating that exact storyline????

It took me a while to even consider byler as an idea. It's not like I latch onto every non-canon mlm ship and just ship for nothing (very few bylers do this, no matter how much anti's need to convince themselves this is the case as an excuse to be homophobic).

I am a hopeless romantic. Doesn't matter if it's queer or straight, I only ship stuff that I feel confident is endgame bc why would I put myself through scenes of something that doesn't feel right to me, merely bc I want to believe it and despite everything pointing against it??

Full serious, IF I was confident in milkvan endgame as a possibility, I would probably just convince myself to like them and provide evidence supporting it, bc I would honestly rather be right? Who tf wants to be wrong?

The problem was it didn't matter if I was initially convinced Mike and El were the pinnacle of romance (I was a child okay, give me a break...). Once I let go of that assumption because of all the doubts I had of them piling up, and took off my heteronormative goggles, I went woah... Holy shit. This show is actually fucking epic. Doubts gone. And the rest is history.

So, what happens if neither is endgame and Mike's killed off? I guess I would be confused, especially because the Duffer's specifically mentioned not being able to kill off Mike in a podcast last year. They gave their reasoning as to why, being that they take deaths on their show very seriously, needing 1+ seasons for them to show the characters mourning the loss. And so ending the show on that exact note, would be kind of a spoiler since they brought it up specifically? Therefore kind of redundant?

I guess, sue me for thinking the Duffers care about the show and put a lot of meaning into it. All of my analysis and theories are based on that assumption. No one's going to change how I think about that, so trust me, not worth getting worked up over it, anon.

If your evidence is all based on the assumption that the Duffers are not that good of writers, that almost everything on the show is coincidental and there's no deeper meaning beyond surface level, why are you even watching it in the first place? You do you I guess, but I just don't know why you wouldn't want to watch something that is more worth your time?

People being confident in their theories wont hurt you. If it bothers you so much, maybe find a way to be confident with your theories after looking at all the evidence from both sides. All sides. Any sides. If you still come up completely indifferent, then don't work yourself up by going on anon and making it other peoples' problem.

If it turns out everything meant nothing, and I was wrong about everything or most of what I interpreted, I will be okay! Because the show went from being about what I wanted to believe, to just what I genuinely believed.

Would I be disappointed? Sure. But lets hope I'm right bc in my scenario the show is epic and everything means something... not sure why anyone would root for the alt...

[blametheeditor]

Voretober Day 31 | ...Believe

Voretober Prompt List

First | Previous

If given the opportunity, would you take the chance to go to space and travel the stars? What if the person offering to take you was someone you trusted more than anyone else?

What if that person is no longer entirely human?

...what consequences would follow such a choice?

MENTIONS OF SOFT VORE

Content Warnings: Forced sedation. Soft, non-sexual vore (only mentions for now). Mentions of body horror. Mentions of experimenting on people. Mentions of death and murder, violence. Being trapped against one's will. Dehumanization. Abductions. Cursing. Darker themes/tone

___________________________________

Fritz sits huddled in a corner of his cage, hugging his legs tightly against his chest, watching what was once a breathtaking view of Earth become too small to make out any distinct features. Soon, he won’t even be able to see the moon. And depending on how far away he gets, the planet itself might become too small to even see. 

Considering how he got here in the first place, he has a feeling not only will Earth completely disappear, but the sun won’t even be a star to find in the sky. 

With a shiver, the teenager manages to curl up even tighter, sending a fearful glance toward the door that sits on the opposite side of the room, dreading the moment it will open. The moment when he finally meets the creature that needs an entryway that stands taller than a skyscraper.

He has yet to actually meet his captures. Well, unless they’re something made of nothing but light, because that’s the last thing he remembers. Walking home well after dark, not exactly hurrying considering how late he stayed out, and then a bright blue light exploded around him. Kept him frozen in place, unable to scream for help as it seemed to crawl over him. From his shoes, up his legs, not missing a single inch as he felt lighter and lighter the further it traveled. 

When it finally reached his head and blinded him, Fritz felt weightless, as if he could fall through the light at any moment. And then he did, finally allowed to scream only for his feet to touch solid ground within seconds. 

He wasn’t prepared for the weight of his backpack, the sudden feeling of his books and papers almost appearing on his shoulders sending him crashing to the ground. Not onto sidewalk, though, onto metal. A cold, grey floor connected to bars spaced close enough together it would be impossible for him to slip through. 

Up until that point, he thought he was dreaming. That instead of leaving work later than he intended, he had fallen asleep in the break room. Was just having a rather horrible and vivid nightmare of being teleported. Because something like that isn’t possible, there’s no such thing as light taking him somewhere. 

But then he saw the room beyond the bars. At the dizzying cliff to his left, and a large expanse of a platform to his right. At the numerous objects next to something that looks like some kind of plate, except they’re all at least twice his size if not more. 

It’s the window that sealed it for him, that this isn’t a dream. He could never dream something so real as an almost distant view of Earth. Where he can only see a little bit of green, but the clouds and oceans are unmistakable. And hovering seemingly in midair was the moon, craters barely visible, nothing like the silver disk that lit his path home. 

Fritz was never afraid of being abducted by aliens, never thought he would ever have to worry about someone being able to take him into space. But here he is, trapped like an interesting specimen waiting to be examined. 

...what’s going to happen to him? 

Suddenly, a loud hissing sound makes Fritz jump, his eyes snapping away from the window and toward the door. When nothing happens, the teenager pushes himself as far into the corner as possible, going so still he doesn’t dare breathe as he tries to ignore his pounding heart.  

Does he know it’s hopeless to try and hide? That something coming into the room is most likely coming for him? Yes, but there has to be a chance he was forgotten. A slim one, but a chance, right? 

Slowly, the door slides open and into the wall. In its place stands a giant, with a shadow that stretches so far it almost touches the cage. And as its massive head lifts up from the tablet it holds, Fritz can feel it’s gaze. 

He wasn’t forgotten. 

It doesn’t move for a moment, standing in the doorway as it watches him. When there finally is movement, it’s only to raise a hand. And then it...waves? Wait, yes, that’s a wave! The creature is waving at him! 

Fritz’s terror melts into hope. Because someone who stole him with the intention to hurt him wouldn’t try to be friendly. 

Well...he might still be scared. Because even though someone’s trying to be nice, they’re still giant. He was still taken away from his home, and he doesn’t think the creature has the intention to just ask him questions before sending him back right where they found him. But they won’t hurt him, and that’s what matters. 

He can’t help the trembles, but he does slowly lift his own hand to give a small wave back, hoping it can be seen even though he’s still curled up in the corner. “H-Hi?” 

Pure yellow eyes that remind him a lot like a cat’s narrow as the giant creature lowers their hand. Then they start walking closer, and what little warmth was left is stolen as the cage starts to rattle in time with every step taken, the shadow slowly creeping across the room until it lands on him. 

Fritz’s chest tightens as he feels an overwhelming sense of panic. A giant is coming for him, and even if they might not want to hurt him, they’re still big. Still tower over him like he’s nothing more than a bug to crush. And there’s nowhere for him to go, nowhere he can run. He’s trapped. 

The creature suddenly stops, opening its mouth as it chitters, making the hair on the back of Fritz’s neck stand up. When he doesn’t respond and can only concentrate on breathing, it makes a quiet coo before making a deep and continuous rumble. 

It seems to shake the very air. After a moment of it seeming to purr at him without making any other motions to get closer, he relaxes slightly. “Um-m-m, can you tell me where I am?” 

The towering being doesn’t respond. Instead, it continues to rumble as it slowly walks closer. Gets bigger and bigger until Fritz feels like he’s no bigger than a spider. As insignificant as an ant. Yet those eyes never leave him, so he holds onto the fact that even though they’re big, they won’t hurt him. 

But then a hand with three fingers is reaching toward the cage. Removes the entire wall of bars directly across from him. Realizes what is about to happen next. 

“Wait,” he pleads as he desperately tries to get as far away from the open wall as possible. From the giant who without a doubt will crush him if they were to grab him. Feels blinding terror claw up his throat, making it impossible to breathe. “W-Wait.” 

His words aren’t understood as a hand reaches for him. He doesn’t know if the familiar sight of a human one would be any better, but it wouldn’t be by much. He’s still tiny in comparison. Still is going to be grabbed, and there is nothing he can do to stop it. 

A shriek escapes when a finger taller than he is touches his shoulder. Fritz tries to twist away, turns to leap out of reach only to be stopped by a second one. Within a second they’re winding around him. Pinning his arms to his side and keeping his legs tightly together. 

“N-No, please, let me go!” Fritz begs. 

Again, he isn’t heard as the hand pulls him outside the cage. Up into the air where a sickening drop that makes his stomach flip. Both the fear of falling and the stare from vertical pupils keeps him from squirming. 

It doesn’t stop purring, the noise a constant background as Fritz gasps from vertigo as he’s suddenly lowered back down to the platform. Starts to feel nauseous when he realizes it’s a table for the giant. One that’s at a perfect level for a second pair of arms to easily move the objects twice his size around with ease. 

When something reminiscent of a syringe is picked up, Fritz clenches his eyes shut as he’s lowered far too quickly toward the square plate in the center of it all. He flinches when his arms meet something so cold it almost burns, his eyes snapping open to see he’s being set on the plate. 

...no, not set, pinned. Forced to lie down as a palm flattens him to effortlessly stop his struggles from doing anything except make him more panicked because this can’t be real, this isn’t happening, he refuses to believe anything except for the fact nothing is going to hurt him. 

“Please, wait!” Fritz calls up to the massive being treating him as nothing more than a scared animal who doesn’t understand someone is just trying to help it. Except this doesn’t feel like help. It feels like something much more sinister. “W-What are you doing!” 

The creature doesn’t answer, only continues to purr as its only occupied hand moves out of sight. 

“No!” Fritz sobs as his cheek is pressed painfully to the frozen ground. Tries to sit up, kick, anything. But nothing works. He is completely at the mercy of a giant. “Stop, I don’t want this! I want to go home, please, don’t hurt me!” 

The only answer he’s given is darkness.