#I’m so so sleepy I need to go to bed

[donnies-low-empathy]

It’s so so so tough having a hyperfixation on Future!Donnie specifically. Like what do you mean all we ever see of this guy is his mask and his helicarriers for five seconds total. And yet he is in my brain? Taking my thoughts? Perish

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

it’s nice to have a friend (pt. 1)

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Mini Fic - Fluff-ish??

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Cursing, maybe a little bit ooc Hobie since it’s been months, a few halfhearted attempts at his accent and then I just gave up whoops

A/N: wrote this while having the worst cramps of my life last month and only finished it now 👍 idk I just felt like cussing out the world at that point so that might explain the excessive swearing 😭

Tap tap tap.

You were just about dropping off to sleep when you heard those light knocks on the window. Probably just a clumsy bird.

Tap tap tap tap.

The knocks grew more insistent, more familiar - a pattern of sorts. You heaved a long, mildly annoyed sigh and got up to open the window.

It was not, in fact, an annoying pigeon. It was Spider-Punk in the flesh. Or as you knew him, your absolute dumbass of a best friend.

“It’s 3am in the fucking morning,” You waved your hand at the pitch-darkness outside, giving him the most formidable glare you could muster. “What do you want?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Hobie hopped inside, pulled off his mask, and gave you a completely unfazed grin. “Nice to see you too. Stop glaring at me! What, I can’t see my best friend whenever I want?”

“It is 3am in the fucking morning,” You repeated, pointing helpfully at the clock on your bedside table, though you had to press your lips together to squash a smile. Good grief, did his little cross between a smirk and a smile have to be so contagious?

“But I can’t sleep, and clearly you can’t sleep, and I missed you, so let’s go!”

“You saw me barely six hours ago,” You deadpanned, already pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your coat from where it lay thrown across the the bedside table. “Drama queen.”

“Me? A drama queen? Nah, I’ll show you drama.” He flopped melodramatically onto the floor, grabbing your ankle and pretending to die. He looked ridiculous, like a lanky stick-bug-fish hybrid that crawled onto land and starting flapping about.

“Hobie, get up!” You gave a little huff, reaching a hand down to yank him upwards. “Okay, fine, let’s go wherever it is you want to go.”

“Yay! Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure, we can take the fire esca- HOBIE WHAT THE FUCK NOT AGAIN!” Before you could even take a step towards your bedroom door, he had grabbed you around the middle and leaped out the window. Your stomach dropped as he let you both plummet almost to the ground before shooting a web to the railing that ran the length of the roof and extended a little bit over. You both shot up like a rocket and he angled you in such a way that your landing would be much gentler than his.

“The next time you do that I’m going to throw up on you,” You warned him once you got the air back in your lungs (after a little bit of wheezing).

“That’s what you said last time. Besides, ‘s like a free amusement park ride! Honestly, I’m so generous, you don’t even have to pay,” He chuckled softly, brushing past you to sit at the edge of the roof.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I put up with you,” You muttered, carefully navigating around the looser tiles on the roof to go and sit next to him.

The atmosphere was silent, not peaceful exactly but just still for the moment. Factories in the distance were still chugging out thick smog that floated up to join the suffocating clumps in slowly strangling the city. The alleyways were dark save for a few slivers of moonlight that managed to cut through the pitch-blackness of the backstreets.

Perfect time for a philosophical conversation, right?

“Do you ever wish that that spider hadn’t bitten you?”

Hobie looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked back over the city, leaning back on his palms. “Well… sometimes. What I mean is… sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to do this, y’know? But it’s better me than some pig. One of those bastards as Spider-Man would be a fuckin’ nightmare. For everyone who sees through Osborn’s bullshit.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said - it was 3am, it had been a long day, and the words just didn’t register in your tired brain. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, leaning on Hobie. It wasn’t very comfortable, since not only did you have to avoid impaling yourself on the small spikes on his vest, but his shoulder was also pretty bony under the fabric.

“Tired?” He turned his head to look down at you, eyes soft and sweet and filled with something you couldn’t quite put a name to right now, perhaps because of the state of your consciousness.

You rolled your eyes, having still not fully pushed away the remaining traces of grumpiness that lingered from your rude awakening. “Thanks to the dumbass who woke me up at some unholy hour.”

“Come on, you know you wouldn’t have slept anyway. At least this way you have some company.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but slowly shut it upon realising that he was right. Absolutely insufferable.

You just snorted and closed your eyes, savouring the moment as best as you can. You loved quiet moments like these, where you could ask anything and get an honest answer instead of having to mince your words — maybe you liked them more than you should, but it was fairly harmless, right?

Marriage could end in divorce, couples could break up, and young love really wasn’t a constant. You couldn’t expect something so intoxicating to retain its magic against the test of time.

So it was better to take that fierce rush of whatever it was that you were feeling and label it as platonic love. Because strong platonic love, when it was returned, was benign and beautiful and all-encompassing, all at once.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep here. Still with me?”

You felt a light touch of ridiculously cold fingers against your forehead and jolted fully awake.

“Asshole,” You complained, batting away his ice blocks for hands. “Have you been sitting and stewing in a fridge for a few hours?”

Hobie snickered at your annoyed frown and chose that moment to break into a grin, reaching into his pockets. “Oh, that reminds me, I made us matching bracelets!”

He held out two bracelets, ridiculously tiny in comparison to his fingers. They were both composed of random beads, staples, half-broken bottle caps and bits of coloured string threaded onto a loop of fishing twine. The loud, mismatched colours practically vibrated off of them in shockwaves like some sort of sonic boom of Hobie-ness.

In short, they were absolutely perfect. There was nothing that he could’ve given you that would remind you more of him. All sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as you took one of them, holding it up to examine it in whatever moonlight managed to cut through the clouds.

You gave him a smile, slipping it onto your wrist carefully. “It’s beautiful, Hobes. Thank you.”

“Ah, we’re back with the nicknames! There it is! Good to know I didn’t actually make a mistake waking you up.” His tone was lighthearted and teasing, but his smile had turned into one of affection as he watched your reaction to his gift.

There it was again. You’d seen it a few times recently, and it had been silently eating at you no matter how much you tried to dismiss it as simple friendship.

Nothing more than a tiny little flash of that puzzling something in his eyes, but something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and not just in a way that someone would feel about their best friend. Something that gave you the courage to finally break free from the voice in your head whispering about everything that could go wrong — although that might have been because of your horrendous lack of sleep and the tiredness that was tinging each of your thoughts with just a little bit of delirium.

Screw keeping it platonic.

“Hobie,” You began, and something in your tone must have sounded different because he trained his eyes on you, his head cocking to the side slightly. You faltered slightly, trying to think of something to say. But before you could find a way to put your exhausted, confused mess of thoughts into words properly, he winced and his face scrunched up in the way it always did whenever his spider-sense went off.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…” Hobie gestured vaguely down at the alleyways, an apology practically written on his face. You nodded, ignoring the hollow pit of disappointment forming in your stomach.

“Yeah, you should go. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” He agreed, already fishing through his vest pockets and digging out his mask. He paused to give you a cheeky grin before slipping the fabric over his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick a more pleasant time to drop in.”

“That’s what you said last time!” You called after him as he leaped off the building, disappearing down into the roads winding around, into and throughout the city. You stayed where you were, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the ever-shifting skyline. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course something came up right as you had finally mustered up the courage to say something… and yet, it felt as though he was almost expecting it. Like he wanted you to say it.

You scoffed at the absurdity of your train of thought, looping around and around hopefully like a broken clockwork toy. All wishful thinking, perhaps? Then again, maybe not. You pushed yourself to your feet, pushing open the fire escape and beginning to make your way back to your apartment. You almost missed the terrifying rush of adrenaline that accompanied one of Hobie’s daredevil manoeuvres in and out of windows on the fifth floors of buildings. Almost.

You got into bed again and switched off the light, pausing to look out of the still-open window. Oh, well...

You moved to close it, pulling down the pane of glass and latching it at the bottom.

Maybe next time.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 (not sure if i’m missing anybody else, it’s been a while 😭)

[thegreatnpowerfulspuukiiz]

okay so at the time of writing this, it’s extremely late where i am, and even tho i vowed to start off my week right by going to sleep at a reasonable time, i have been completely consumed by the komi can’t communicate manga for the past couple weeks and i cannot contain my insanity any longer.

expects a more in depth yap later but OH MY GOSHHHHHHH

******spoilers below*******

SO IM AFTUALLY SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP AND SLIDING DOWN THE WALL I DIDN’T EXPECT ALL THE CONFESSIONS TO HAPPEN SO CLOSE TO EACH OTHER I’M A LITTLE OVERWHELMED ICL

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS INSIDE OF ME RN I SIMPLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO

sorry if this was incoherent, i’m going to bed </3

[starfinss]

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜰᴀʟʟ — ʟᴇᴠɪᴀᴛʜᴀɴ 🍋

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Obey Me!

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Leviathan + Reader

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7,290

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: You could only see half of his face, lit warmly in the dim glow. His eyes caught in the light like deep, polished bronze, from an angle that highlighted little flecks of gold in his irises. He looked pensive; deep in thought, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

You wanted to kiss him.

OR 

A simple good night kiss leads to much more than you bargained for. Not that you’re complaining.

The day had been long, but you’d had an unexpected amount of fun. The food had been delicious, as food always seems to be when one prepares it themselves. Levi had gotten to actually socialize for once, and you’d gotten him out of his shell a little. You’d adored seeing his face light up the way it had, and you made a mental note to watch the anime he’d been going on about all day when you returned to the Devildom, even though an after school fishing anime wasn’t really something you considered to be up your alley.

It had been the first time he’d had a s’more. The look of utter wonder on his face was something you wished you’d taken a picture of. It endeared you almost to tears.

Sleep tugged at your eyelids, and you yawned. Your body felt well-worked, leaving that pleasant, exercised soreness in your muscles. Your hair was damp from the rinse you’d taken at the campground showers, soothingly cool on your neck. The inflatable mat beneath your body was surprisingly comfortable, and the soft blankets that cocooned your body surrounded you in a bubble of warmth.

You happily reflected on the day, letting imaginary scenarios play in your head until they devolved into nonsense as your consciousness began to slip away.

“I can’t fall asleep.”

Startled from the dregs of your half slumber by Leviathan’s voice, you shifted your body before turning over to face him.

In the dim light, you could see his silhouette, lavender hair backlit by the single bonfire burning a ways away at the neighboring campsite. His skin looked almost ghost white, eyes the color of deep liquid gold. It took you a second of staring and letting your eyesight adjust to the light that you realized he was looking at you, studying your expression. A demon thing, you supposed. Unlike you, he was probably able to see perfectly in the dark.

You met his eyes, unable to read what was in them in the dark. You shifted closer, watching as his shoulders tensed, undoubtedly nervous by your sudden increased proximity. Sighing, you flopped down on your pillow again, letting your eyes fall closed.

“‘M sleepy,” you said, and Leviathan let out a breath.

“That’s not fair. I wish I could get sleepy, too.”

A smile made your mouth curve up. “You will. Just close your eyes, Levi.”

But you heard no movement, and when you pried open your eyes again, he was still the same as he had been, with his head propped up on his hand. You yawned again, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands, then letting them fall closed. You weren’t surprised he wasn’t tired, he was well known for staying up until dawn playing games and watching anime. His sleep schedule was probably virtually nonexistent, if demons even had sleep schedules.

Though, with sleeping being one of the only things Belphie did, you imagined they had something similar.

“Is there anything you like to do to make yourself sleepy when you can’t sleep?” You asked, pulling the blankets up higher. The fall of night had brought a chill along with it.

“I usually play a game until I feel tired,” Levi said, “but I didn’t bring anything to do that with.”

You hummed in thought, shuffling closer again, opening your eyes once more to look at him.

You could only see half of his face, lit warmly in the dim glow. His eyes caught in the light like deep, polished bronze, from an angle that highlighted little flecks of gold in his irises. He looked pensive; deep in thought, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

You wanted to kiss him.

The thought made you jump internally, but grew stronger as you watched his mouth. You supposed you shouldn’t be too surprised at yourself, you’d known that Levi would give you trouble from the second you met him. The way he looked at you made your stomach swarm with butterflies, and his genuine passion for his interests endeared you very deeply. It didn’t help that he was prettier than anyone had any right to be.

You really wanted to kiss him. A good night kiss, you could call it. Leave them wanting more, Asmodeus always said. A quick, chaste kiss, a giggle, and that would be it. You’d leave him flustered and stuttering, an adorable blush on his pale cheeks. Your hands folded together under the blankets as you mulled the idea over in your head, and Levi didn’t see you looking.

He moved to lay on his side, his head landing on his pillow. You shuffled closer once more. A good night kiss. You’d seen him looking at your lips before, when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You’d seen him doing it earlier that day, when you were eating s’mores by the fire. He’d told you that you had chocolate on your lip, and when you licked it away, his gaze lingered far longer than anyone with platonic feelings for a person would look. You’d wanted to kiss him then, too.

This was probably a bad idea. You probably misread the situation. But nonetheless, you never know unless you try. It was better to find out instead of shoving your feelings down. Late night chat sessions with Asmo seemed to have some useful bits of advice, it seemed.

Slowly, you moved closer once more, and in a smooth motion, your mouth pressed to his. It lingered for just a few seconds before you were pulling away, your nerves strung so tight you thought they might break.

But as you were beginning to roll over to bury your face in the pillow, his hand shot out, catching your wrist, and freezing you in your tracks.

“I— I didn’t know you were awake,” he said, voice hushed, almost awed, “you startled me. Was that— a good night kiss?”

You nodded. “It was. I’m sorry, I—”

“That’s not fair,” Levi said, “how do you expect me to get tired now?”

Spurred on by his words, you kissed him again. He made a soft noise of surprise before his hands were gingerly cupping your cheeks, and he was kissing you back with a tenderness that made your heart feel like it was doing backflips in your chest. His lips were surprisingly soft, and his skin was feverishly warm against yours, sending heat bone deep as you pressed closer.

Your arms slid up and around his neck, fingers threading into his hair, and you felt his breath hitch against your mouth as you did. It was his turn to move closer, closing the gap between your bodies so you were flush against him.

He pulled back, just a little, and when you tried to close the gap again, he met you with a chaste kiss before speaking.

“That isn’t helping,” he grumbled, “more kisses aren’t going to help me sleep, they’ll just rile me up more.”

You blinked at him, innocently. “Do you want to stop?”

“No!” He said, a little too quickly, “I mean— no, I don’t. That made me really happy. I want to keep kissing you. I’ve wanted to kiss you forever. But why would you want to kiss me? I’m just a worthless—”

You kissed him again, cutting him off. You refused to hear him put himself down, not when you were here. He held you fast, his fingers bunching into the fabric of your sleep shirt so tight you were slightly afraid he would tear it. His mouth tasted like the marshmallows you’d been eating before tucking into bed, and you were sure your own was the same.

“Don’t call yourself that,” you said against his mouth, and his hands moved down to the bend of your waist, pulling you closer.

You pulled back, just a little, just to look at him, to make sure he heard you well.

“I want to kiss you because it’s you, Levi. Don’t call yourself worthless,” you said, “you deserve this.”

He was suddenly kissing you like he was afraid you’d disappear, one of his hands sliding up your body to tangle into your hair, his opposite arm winding around your waist. His kisses were feverish and all-consuming, desperate, like he was drowning and you were the oxygen he so badly needed.

His tongue brushed against the seam of your lips, and you parted them to allow him to slide his tongue against yours. He was unexpectedly good at kissing for someone who spent so much time shut in his room, but you were enjoying it far too much to wonder where he got the practice from. He was a couple thousand years old, after all. You expected that probably brought experience of all sorts.

Your fingers raked through his hair, making his breath shudder and his grip tighten. He was almost melting into your touch, and you felt your head growing foggier and foggier as his nails scraped against your scalp. He was kissing you like this was the last chance he’d ever get, like you were disappearing, and you held him tight to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.

He broke away, his eyes wild, desperate, and you stared back at him, disoriented and bleary, questioning.

“Tell me you don’t want this, I’m waiting for it,” he hissed, his tone as brittle as a dry leaf and full of self-deprecating venom, “push me away, tell me to stop.”

“No,” you said, trying to look as sure as you could, “I won’t say that. I want this. Please don’t stop.”

He was suddenly above you, eyes glowing, smoldering, like bronze embers in the dark, and you could feel the air around you heat up. A thrilling shot of adrenaline ejected itself into your bloodstream as you stared up at the demon above you, and you raised your hands to cup his face. He shuddered, leaning into the touch, like it was salve to a burn.

“Levi,” you said, “what do you want?”

Without hesitation, he answered.

“You.”

You smiled. “I’m already yours.”

Another shudder, his restraint wavering. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re being unfair, messing with me like this. It isn’t fair.”

“Leviathan,” you said, “kiss me. I want you to kiss me. I’m telling you, right now, what I want. I kissed you because I wanted it. I want you.”

He surged forward to crush his mouth to yours, and when your hands rose to his hair once more, you could feel that his horns had manifested themselves in the heat of it all. Desperate, desirous feelings were undoubtedly coursing through the Avatar of Envy at your admission, and the kisses he was giving you were all-consuming, like he was trying to join himself to you, overlapping as one. His hands were on your waist, wavering, and you could feel him hesitating before you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips, making it clear to him that all of this was so much more than okay.

He snarled against your mouth, an inhumanly low, possessive sound produced from deep in his chest, sending forks of lightning down your spine. He was losing control, and strangely, not one part of you wanted him to stop. Any of that hesitance he always seemed to carry with him had all but drained away, replaced with raw desperation as his fangs nipped your lower lip, breaking from your mouth to graze along the your jaw, the tendons in your throat, the sharp points scraping against the vulnerable skin. A gasp slipped past your lips, prompting him to look up at you.

“Did that hurt? Do you want me to stop?”

Before he could react, you flipped him over so you were on top of him, straddling his waist. His eyes looked like burning cinders in the dark, their pupils blown wide as he gazed up at you. He looked like a predator, yet the demon beneath you was completely at your mercy.

“Leviathan,” you said, voice soft, “for once in your life, I am giving you permission to be greedy. You have nothing to be envious of, because I am yours. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. Tell me, what do you want? What do you want to do?”

Again, you were beneath him, his mouth on yours, lips fever hot. He kissed you, frenzied, for a few moments, before he pulled back, his mouth dragging along the shell of your ear.

”You want to know what I really want? Hm?” He rumbled, his voice low, husky, “I want to make you mine. I want to make it so nobody else can have you, only me. That’s what I want. You better choose your next words carefully, human, because I don’t know how much more of your pushing I can take. Do you want to take that risk, is that it?”

You felt a delighted shiver pass through your body, the hot singe of danger thrilling you beyond words. All you’d wanted to do was give him a good night kiss, and maybe hold him close until you were both asleep. You had hardly expected him to react like this, but really, you weren’t complaining. You’d thought about this before, about him, fantasized about it, when you were alone, late at night in your room.

“What risk is that?” You finally managed, your nerves tangled in an excited, frenzied ball in the pit of your stomach.

“That risk,” Leviathan said, “is something you already know. You’re tempting me, human, and if you keep going, I can’t promise I won’t give in.”

You yanked him forward, holding his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Who says I don’t want that, Levi? I’m laying myself out for you— I’m inviting you in. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t want you, completely.”

Another tug, your lips at his ear. “I’m telling you to do whatever you want to me.”

The glow of his irises seemed to brighten as he shuddered, a dangerous hunger setting itself to a rolling boil before he was on you, everywhere, his mouth colliding with yours as his hands rucked up your shirt, and you gasped at the feel of his palms on your bare skin.

He broke away to mouth at your neck, fangs pricking at your clavicle, the collar of your sleep shirt, and you moved to shrug the garment over your head, causing him to pause, wide eyed, as he stared at your chest. His staring made you somewhat self conscious, but you still felt a jolt of pride at the way his famished gaze roved over your body.

“Can I touch you?” He said, voice lower than you’d ever heard it before, causing heat to pool between your thighs.

“Yes,” you said, voice barely there, but he heard you well enough.

The feel of his hands on your skin made you bite your lip to keep from crying out, and when he rolled a nipple between his fingers, your back arched. Fuck, you were going to have trouble staying silent, especially when he was nudging his knee between your thighs, his mouth burning hot as it traveled down the column of your throat. With your remaining focus, you gathered your energy and muttered a quick incantation, a charm that kept sound from escaping the area affected— in this case, the tent. The pulse of magic didn’t go unnoticed by Levi, who paused for a millisecond as you cast the spell, but was otherwise undeterred.

It seemed he didn’t want to be interrupted or overheard, either. The implication of your shared desire only excited you further.

Plush lips dragged across the top of your breast, and your head fell back as his mouth encircled your nipple, rolling it under his tongue. Fuck, he was so warm. Everything about him was burning with suffocating heat, and you remembered vaguely that Lucifer once told you that demons had higher body temperatures than humans did. Right then, that worked out well in your favor, and you squirmed as his touch left trails of flame in its wake.

His fangs dragged against your nipple, making you shiver, and when he soothed it with the flat of his tongue, you rewarded him with a moan. You pushed at his shirt, and he moved back, just for a second, to yank the fabric above his head before resuming his ministrations on your body in earnest. You whined at the feel of his skin touching yours, and he met the sound with a groan of his own. Fuck, you wanted to hear more of those sounds, which were far too angelic to be coming from a demon’s lips.

Warm hands gripped at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you lifted your hips to let him slide them off, leaving you in your panties.

“I wanna make you scream for me,” he breathed, mouth dragging down your sternum, “I don’t want you to think about anyone else, just me.”

Your breath trembled, words lost as you basked in the attention he was giving you with his mouth, and he groaned, punch drunk on the taste of your skin.

“I can have you,” he snarled, “all of you. You’re all mine.”

Through the possessive, jealous haze, it almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself. In response, and the only reassurance you could manage, you let out a breathy whine as his mouth reached your stomach, devolving into a moan when his lips brushed against your hipbone.

“You want more, human?” He asked, gaze sultry, “that what it is?”

Your stomach twisted, hot arousal making you squirm in his hold, and when his his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, grazing the sensitive flesh, you felt that arousal grow almost unbearable.

“Levi, please,” you keened, “please— ah!”

He cut you off as he moved between your thighs, mouth pressing a hot kiss against your clothed cunt, and the heat of his breath sent your thoughts spinning into outer space. His tongue passed over the fabric, and you felt desperation coil inside of you, because it wasn’t enough, not without direct contact. You had a feeling he knew that very well when you felt his lips curl into a smile against your thigh.

When his tongue passed over you again, your back arched, and his hand flattened across your lower stomach, holding you in place as he teased you with another brush of his tongue, his breath, his lips, and when he finally used his knuckle to move the fabric aside, exposing you to him, you almost choked on air.

His nose bumped against your entrance before his tongue was dragging up and along your cunt, slow as he pleased, in lazy, indulgent licks that made your head feel like it was stuffed full of cotton balls and all other sorts of fluff and emptiness. He groaned into your flesh, dragging his tongue up again, and again, and again before he was pulling your panties the rest of the way off, then hiking your thighs up and over his broad shoulders, holding you in place with an unshakable grip.

Your head fell back against the pillow as you let your world shrink down to what Levi was doing between your thighs, the way he was savoring you like a man starved, and when you moaned, it was a breathy, desperate sound that you hardly recognized as your own. His name left your lips in something akin to a prayer, or maybe it was malediction, because the creature between your legs was anything but holy. Your hands drifted to his hair, bumping against his horns before wrapping around the base of them, and he was groaning into your cunt, his lazy pace picking up.

His tongue found your clit, drawing easy circles around it and making your hips jerk against him, prompting him to tighten his grip, blazing eyes meeting yours. You saw insatiable, burning hunger in those eyes, possessive and captivating enough to make you whimper.

“Hold still,” he snarled, voice positively beastly, sending dizzying arousal into your bloodstream like you’d taken a hit of a drug.

This was about possession as well as passion, showing you exactly who you belonged to, and who could make you feel this way, like you were burning from the inside out. You could feel him, mouthing at your flesh with uncontained need, drinking in your cries of ecstasy. Your fingers tightened to a white-knuckled grip on his horns, eyes screwing shut, and you felt him groan against you, long and low, sending shockwaves up your spine.

You could feel his fingers, pressing at your entrance, as his mouth engulfed your clit, tongue rolling over it. You tried to move, to buck your hips, anything to have something inside of you, but he snarled, keeping you still as he teased you. Long, thick digits slipped just past your entrance before withdrawing, making you squirm, the sharp point of one of his horns biting into your palm as you held on for deal life.

“Please,” you choked, “fuck, please.”

Another growl, low and self-satisfied, and you whimpered when he slipped a finger inside of you, too slowly for your linking. He was making you desperate, and you sobbed in frustration and pleasure, toes curling tight as he rolled your clit under his tongue in slow, broad licks. It felt so good you could hardly think, and when he was suddenly, finally pushing his fingers inside of you, it made you see stars.

“Oh, fuck— Levi—”

His fingers curled up, bumping against a spot that made those stars explode across your vision, and you gave a breathless cry as he withdrew, only to fill you once more. You could feel that familiar coil forming in your belly, the type of addictive sensation that makes you desperate for more as sinful pleasure thrummed through your veins, under your skin, and his mouth felt like it was burning you as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your sensitive inner thighs before latching back onto your clit.

His tongue flicked against you, before pressing harder, and you squirmed helplessly beneath him, fingernails dragging along his horns and making him growl. His fingers curled again, knuckle deep, and fuck, how could you ever use your own hands again when his reached spots you didn’t even know existed? It was agonizingly blissful, but you couldn’t get enough.

Your climax was drawing closer and closer, and you could do little to quiet yourself as he didn’t show any signs of slowing down, not that you even needed to. Your hips jerked, and you gasped, allowing him to hear you sob his name, begging for more, for anything that would bring you to your high, because where the hell did he learn do to this?

His pace was picking up speed, his tongue pressing down hard as he lapped at your clit, flicking it against the sensitive skin, fingers curling, and you could hardly stop yourself from letting the stricken mewl slip from between your lips, a high-pitched, almost pathetically desperate sound that made him growl against you. You were so fucking close, but he was doing nothing to stop you from tumbling towards that edge, and when you tried to warn him, the only sound that came out of your mouth was a trembling moan.

Your orgasm hit you with the force of a tidal wave, and he was the riptide, holding you against him with an iron grasp, working you through your climax and into the realm of overstimulation, into that realm of delicious, overwhelming pleasure. You moaned, deep in your throat, back bowing, and he made a low, desperate sound into your skin. You were throbbing, pulsing around his fingers, and they continued to pump in and out of you until you were dropping your hands from his hair to knot into the blankets, fingers pressing almost painfully against your palms through the fabric.

“Too sensitive, too sensitive— Leviathan, please—”

Fuck, fuck, he wasn’t stopping. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolling back into your head, your toes curling tight, a strangled, sobbing whine rising in your throat. You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you tossed your head back, so helplessly entangled in blissful rapture. You felt yourself getting close again, coiling so tight you felt like you might shatter into pieces. Little, helpless pleas were slipping from your lips, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying, just that it made him growl against you, the vibrations of the sound sending you over the edge once more with an unrestrained wail of his name.

You saw white as he continued to move, giving a whine of his own against your cunt, and you yanked a hand up to cover your mouth, teeth sinking into the side of your palm, thrashing in his hold as you convulsed. You were helpless and needy and so sensitive that all you could do was lay there and take everything he gave you.

Finally, mercifully, he moved back, and you allowed yourself to go boneless against the surface beneath your body, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. You whimpered as he withdrew his fingers from inside of you, and you watched as he licked the digits clean before he was propping himself up on his knees.

You forced yourself to sit up, moving towards him to rest your forehead against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your body, nose pressing into your hair.

“Can you handle more?” He asked, and you felt your heart skip several beats.

“Yeah,” you said, “I can. But let me rest for a second, okay?”

You scooted closer, tugging him down to lay beside you, and joining your lips together with his. He kissed you languidly, deeply, and you hooked a leg around his waist, moving your hips to press against his, making him give a stricken hiss. One of his hands gripped at your waist, holding you in place as he ground himself against you, reveling in the feel of his clothed cock against your bare cunt. He was so hard, and when you palmed him through his sweatpants, he groaned into your mouth.

It couldn’t be comfortable to be confined in fabric like that, and when your fingers toyed with the hem of the garment, you felt the muscles in his stomach twitch, tensing, anticipating. You flattened your opposite hand against his stomach, the firm expanse of his abs, and fuck how did he get such an awesome body when all he did was sit around all day? You supposed perks came with being a high level demon, and fast metabolism was one of them. That, and all the swimming he did.

“Touch me,” he rumbled, breath hot against your lips, and who were you to deny him?

You pressed harder on the front of his sweats, making him gasp, and he moved back away from your mouth to look down at what you were doing to him as you slowly pushed his waistband down.

Oh, fuck.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the size in front of you. Levi wasn’t a small person, none of his brothers were, so he was no exception. He was so thick, and long enough to make you dizzy. And he was pretty. Pale, flushed gently pink at the tip, glistening with precum. You slowly reached down, letting your fingertips graze against the side, making him gasp, and when you wrapped your hand around him, he twitched against your palm, a stricken hiss escaping through his teeth.

Shit, your fingers just barely met. You squirmed, arousal burning between your thighs, and you felt him twitch again, breath heavy and expression afflicted. Slowly, you pulled your hand back, your thumb finding his tip, and you rubbed circles against it, making him moan. You repeated the action, just to hear it again.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “fuck, that’s good.”

You moved your hand to encircle his girth, smearing the precum against his skin, aiding you as you gave him a slow, easy stroke, an action that made him groan deeply, eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice hot, “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You felt your breath stutter, your own lust thrumming in your veins at his admission. You kissed him hard in response, stroking him faster, just to hear him whine against your mouth. His hips bucked with your hand, and you could feel his fingertips dig into your waist, so tight they’d probably leave bruises, but not one part of you cared, not when he was making such perfectly erotic sounds. You adored the way his breath shook when you rubbed circles against his tip, how he groaned, low in his throat, when you squeezed him, rubbing your fingers along the underside.

Finally, gently, he caught your wrist, breaking away from the kiss, and when he looked at you, his eyes were darkened to the color of rust with desire, and your lips met his neck, making him shudder.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, “please, make me yours.”

He pushed you onto your back, crawling overtop of you, fingers skating across your soaked entrance before sinking them inside of you, pumping once, then twice before pulling out, and you felt your heartbeat pause when he pressed the tip of his cock against you. You’re propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he slowly began to press forward, and fuck, even just the tip felt like a stretch. You tossed your head back, teeth gritted, and he kissed up your neck, easing himself forward just a bit more.

“Levi, you’re so big,” you blurted, and you watched color shade his pale cheeks, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

He pressed forward again, and you whined at the stretch, bordering on pain. Your eyes squeezed shut, breath thin.

“Hnnn, shit,” he hissed, voice taught with rapidly fraying restraint, “y-you’ve gotta relax, you’re too tight.”

You took a breath, fingers scrambling for purchase and finally curling into the blankets beneath you, trying to breathe as he sank deeper, and as he finally bottomed out, your breath stuttered in your lungs. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it was foreign and strange, and you weren’t used to taking something like this. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim, and you watched Leviathan’s face as he took in the abundance of new sensations.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him gasp, eyes drifting closed, and he spoke between gritted teeth, “fuck, fuck— so tight.”

His tail swung in a wide arc behind him before curling on the bed beside you, and you absently reached out to wrap your fingers around it, running your palm up and along the cool scales.

You didn’t expect the short, stricken gasp that action elicited. You also didn’t expect the way that prompted him to draw his hips back, only to press back inside, stuffing you full, and ejecting any coherent thought from your mind. Your grip on his tail tightened reflexively as you cried out, and he gave a harder, deeper thrust in response. His movements were slow, measured, restrained. Like he didn’t want to break you. You knew Levi was stronger than you, much stronger than any human, and that he could easily overpower you in an instant. For some reason, that sent sparks of arousal shooting through you. You wanted him to lose control, like he so badly wanted to. You could see it in his face, as his eyes clamped shut, a muscle tensing in his jaw as you squeezed around him.

Each thrust was slow and even, every drag of his thick cock inside of you sending stars into your vision. You stroked along his tail again, and he hissed between his teeth, twitching inside of you. His hands, curled into the blankets beside your body, went white knuckled in their grip. A low, low groan slipped through his teeth, needy and desperate as he thrust again, slow and deep.

“Levi,” you whimpered, dizzy from the way he was stretching you, “faster, please. Gimme more.”

A strong thrust, and he shifted to support himself on his elbows, forehead resting against yours.

“That what you want?” He rasped, “harder, faster?”

You lifted your legs, linking them around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groaned lowly as he sank deeper inside of you.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, “make me yours, Leviathan.”

That did it. His eyes glinted dangerously, and he was moving back, pulling your hips flush against his, hands on your waist as he pushed himself as deep as he could go, only to pull out and slam forward once more. The impact of the thrust made you cry out loudly, prompting him to repeat the motion, again, and again, and again, and oh fuck, you could barely even think straight with him fucking you like that. The way he was hitting all the right spots, the base of his cock grinding so perfectly against your clit, making you grip the blankets tightly for any sort of anchor at all.

A growl from deep in his chest sent delicious chills down your spine, rising in volume as he fucked you deep, grinding his hips against you whenever he was fully pressed inside of you. You yanked him down, meeting his mouth in a messy kiss, and he moaned into your mouth, a filthy, desperate sound, and you found yourself moving your hips to meet him.

“Fuckfuck— it’s so good.”

You felt yourself shudder, arms winding around his neck.

“You feel good?”

A moan, low and rough. “‘S perfect— please, more, lemme have more—”

“Take it all,” you keened, “wanna make you cum.”

His grip on your body tightened, and his hips pushed forward, filling you completely, grinding deep circles against you. His mouth skated along the column of your throat, reaching your ear, and you squirmed in his iron grip.

“Nobody else can have you,” he snarled, “only me. Only I get to fuck you like this. I hate that anyone has ever even thought of you like this before. You’re mine.”

You smoothed your hand along the back of his head, soothing, loving, and you pulled him into a deep kiss, holding him tight before releasing him, cupping his face.

“Nobody else can have me,” you said, “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

One of his hands was suddenly pinning your wrists above your head, his opposite one between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and making your hips jerk against him, a shrill whine escaping your mouth. You squirmed in his hold, head tossing back, hair pooling on the pillow, and when you moaned, high and breathy, something in him, the last thread of his restraint, all but disintegrated.

You felt something cool and scaled slithering around your waist, and it took you a moment to figure out that it was his tail through the rose-colored haze of your arousal. It coiled around you, gripping you tight, and you realized he was using it to hold you in place as he fucked you, using it to move you, impaling you on his cock over and over again as he met each tug with deep ruts of his hips, using you like a doll. You squirmed in his hold helplessly, and he released your wrists to brace himself on his elbow, his fingers knotting into the blankets.

The pressure on your clit combined with the drag of his cock inside of you was making your head feel light and fuzzy, helpless from the intense, earthshaking pleasure. He was groaning at the feeling, mixed with low, rough swears and gasps of your name. He was just as affected as you were, if not more, and that aroused you more than words. His thumb pressed down harder, rubbing in circles, and you let out a breathless whine of ecstasy, back arching as much as it could in his grip, hands finding his horns and holding tight as he attached his mouth to your throat.

Sharp fangs sank into your flesh, and he laved over the spot with his tongue, sucking marks into your skin, biting at the tender flesh. His mouth trailed down to your breasts, his lips dragging over a nipple before reattaching to your neck, then your mouth, joining in a feverish kiss. Your head felt empty, deliriously drunk on pleasure, and from the way he was moaning, he was no different. His touches were desperate, needy, and you felt his tail tighten around you, just a little, as he picked up the pace.

The small space was filled with the sound of skin on skin and the smell of sex, making you glad you’d had the forethought to cast that charm, but any thoughts of that were ejected from your mind as he angled his hips just right, hitting the spot that made blurry stars dance across your vision. It felt so fucking good, feeling every inch of him sliding into you, to hear him growl in your ear, to hear him swear and cry out your name like scripture, sacrilegious and sinful from a demon’s lips, but as beautiful as a hymn.

That pressure inside you was drawing tighter, that desperate, feverish feeling that precedes a climax, and you tried to warn him, but all you could do was sob his name as he fucked you deep and hard, his pace borderline punishing and doing absolutely fuck all to help with how sensitive you already were from the two climaxes he’d pulled from you earlier.

You came hard and with a wail of his name, the sensation of you squeezing around him making him snarl into your skin, cock twitching inside of you, teeth sinking into your skin once more. And he wasn’t slowing down, not even as you writhed in his hold, mindless from sensitivity, completely and utterly drunk on him, on what he was doing to you, on his cock. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, fingers fanning out across his back before flexing, nails digging into the skin, dragging up, making him groan deeply, the sound only making you wind even tighter.

Tears stuck to your cheeks, jewels in your eyelashes, and Leviathan kissed them away, but he didn’t let up, pressing on your clit, making you buck and scream against him, sobbing his name, his praises, anything. Your head was filled with nothing but him, just how he’d wanted it. You came again with a silent cry, head tipped back and mouth wide open, and it was only after that that he moved his thumb away, but his cock was still grinding against your abused clit, winding you up again, and you could do no more than whimper as he chased after his own climax, thrusts growing more and more uneven as he began to reach his limit.

He was chanting your name, voice low and rough, and you squeezed your legs around his body, the least you could do as he continued to use his tail to move you, using it to meet each of his thrusts. He was close, you guessed, from the way his low groans were getting higher in pitch as the sensitivity mounted, both his hands knotting in the blankets beside your head, moaning into your skin.

“Take it,” he snarled, “take it, take it—”

He thrust deep, and you whined weakly, tears spilling past your lashes from the sensitivity as he gushed inside of you, stuffing you full of his cum. You whined his name, and he bucked his hips, chasing the aftershocks of his climax, fucking his cum into you with each motion. He was cumming a lot, enough that it was leaking out of you, but he used his thumb to press it back inside of you, making you hiss at the feel of the digit inside of you, just briefly.

And then, he was collapsing, boneless against you, breath leaving him in heavy pants. His tail unwound itself from your waist, and he was kissing your throat, your face, and finally, your lips. It was a slow, languid kiss, full of affection and gratitude, for letting him do that to you. You kissed him back, wrapping exhausted arms around his neck, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“I love you,” he muttered, voice muffled against your mouth, and you held him tighter, emotion surging through your body.

“I love you, too, Levi.”

He broke away from you, pulling out and flopping beside you. He was breathing heavily, and you were no different. As he caught his breath, he found a package of wet wipes from his bag, which he used to wipe your legs clean, depositing them in the small trash bag you had set up in the corner. He pulled the blankets up around your bodies, gathering you close to him.

“I lost control,” he said, “are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You smiled. “No, Levi, you didn’t hurt me. It was really hot, actually.”

Levi made a sound like he was being strangled. “I— what? I see.”

There was the Leviathan you knew. You snuggled into his chest, sleepy and satisfied.

“I’m on birth control,” you said, “‘s okay.”

He chuckled, relieved. “That’s… good to know. You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

You shook your head. “‘M fine. Sleepy. That was really good.”

His breath shuddered. “You’re mine now, right? I can be with you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “yours.”

He lifted your chin to meet your mouth in a kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“Sleepy,” you repeated, utterly exhausted.

“Mm,” Leviathan said, “sleepy.”

He snuggled you close, nose buried in your hair, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him. You lazily linked your arms around his body, enjoying the feel of his skin against yours, the way his heat enveloped you like a second blanket.

“Love you,” you muttered, but you got no response. You looked up, only to find him asleep, face serene. It was okay, though. You smiled, curling close to him. You knew he loved you too.

That was your last thought before you fell asleep.

BONUS:

”It wasn’t a dream.”

You woke when he spoke, groggy and sore as all hell. You groaned, snuggling closer to him, pulling the blanket up and over your head. The air was cool and fresh, smelling of dew and early morning. Leviathan’s body was warm, and you didn’t particularly feel like separating yourself from him, not now.

“Hmm?” You hummed, and Levi lifted the blanket to look at you, making you squint up at him. His face was vibrantly red, eyes wide, awed.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he repeated, “last night was real.”

You yawned, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“No dream,” you said, “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to walk after that.”

A moment of silence, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around you.

“You told me you loved me,” he said.

“Mhm,” you said, “and I meant it. What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “can we stay here? I want to lay with you a while longer.”

You smiled. “I’m okay with that.”

You lifted your head to press a kiss against his mouth, warm and loving and sleepy. He melted against you, and when you pulled back, he tucked you closer against his body.

The two of you lay like that for quite a while before you were able to pry yourselves apart. And it was perfect.

[sharptacks]

limited color palette drawings!

[geryone]

I’m going to bed at 11pm everyone please clap for me

[eyndr-stories]

Everyone needs to see him. I’ve sent him to all my friends. I sent him to my brother. I sent him to my aunt. I’ll show him to my therapist. Now he is here,

catboy mobster

[donicosplay]

I’m starting to think I may need a mobility aid (probably a cane) because some days I have issues standing and walking but I don’t know how to ask my mom if I can get one and I don’t know where to get one

[campirebites]

So my nose isn’t fractured but the internal bruising is pretty gnarly they said so they gave me some anti nausea and some pain medication and said I’m good to go so yay not broken and medical professionals validated me and my level of pain and helped me get pain management! Success!

[rintoki]

every hour is loving kaveh hours

[aaaaaaaaagenloser]

(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)

An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.

Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead

TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED

“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”

“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”

“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”

“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”

“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”

“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“

“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”

“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”

“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”

“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“

“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“

“Shut up, Sneeg—“

“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“

Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.

“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”

“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”

“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”

“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”

“We will be there.”

“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”

“Sneeg!”

“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”

“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”

Silence lingered for a bit too long.

“We should what, Ran?”

“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

The Taken didn’t reply.

“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”

“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”

“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.

“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”

“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“

“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”

“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.

…okay, Sneeg?”

“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”

“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“

“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”

“Guys?”

A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’

“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”

“We weren’t fighting, we were…”

“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.

“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”

“Have fun”

“Absolutely not.”

Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.

Which left Ran by themselves.

Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.

…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.

He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.

They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.

But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.

Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)

C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.

The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.

“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”

The mask didn’t speak.

“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”

…

“I think I’m going to head to bed.”

…

“Fuck it, can I stay here?”

The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.

“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”

Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”

Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.

“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”

Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”

The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.

Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.

Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.

…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.

It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…

It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.

.

Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh

And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed

Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.

If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out

I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)

[no-brain-just-good-omens]

i’m not built for capitalism i’m built for being a sleepy sad little guy

[scionshtola]

someone on twt saying shtola has no personality but uri does. well now we are just making things up

[rachiller]

I actually had such a peaceful Tuesday off. Like, yes I didn’t get out of bed until like 2 & shower until 4 but I took it easy and didn’t put any pressure on myself and just like. Breathed and it was calm and I felt peaceful and just took time to be a quiet little slug.

[rottengurlz]

I finished my book

[charliesinfern0]

waaaa it’s already 12 AM