#and like give near back his puppets he worked hard on those!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction · 3 months ago

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Memory of Mementos

“Y’know, you’re supposed to at least look like you’re having fun playing these games,” Cassie sighed, juggling the wooden ball in her hand as she gauged her next toss. Her eyes glanced furtively over at Gregory, mouth twitching into a matching frown when the grim scowl remained on the boy’s face. “When’d you get so sour over this? You used to get a kick out of beating my scores,” she added. He remained silent, folding his tickets into a stack, and Cassie sighed again. “This is about those weird prizes, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.

“I got an old security camera tablet, Mr. Schmidt’s name tag from when he worked for Freddy’s a long time ago, and the hard drive for a Chica that doesn’t have Afton’s personality programming but has fingerprints of the same kind of coding that’s in Freddy,” Gregory grumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Cassie to hear but not travel further than the two of them. “I don’t know what’s going on, but that stupid puppet thing keeps giving me this old stuff, or at least pointing to where to go to get it, and there’s gotta be a reason for it, right?” He looked over at her, an uncertainty in his eyes that made his frown look all the grimmer.

“Maybe you’re supposed to give it to Afton Robotics? Or Fazbear Entertainment?” Cassie suggested with a shrug, rolling her ball and watching it coast over the felt lane and fly up into a hole for another fifty points to her score. Still short compared to Gregory’s; the tickets printed out in a long ribbon. “All that stuff was from the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza that used to be here, but got sealed up behind that wall or was hidden in the Egg Baby. You’re an Afton, so maybe you’re supposed to give that stuff to your family’s company?” she finished and collected her tickets, counting them up with a grin. A little bit more and she’d be able to afford the custom Circus Baby lunchbox set. It’d be a great collectable to add to her dad’s collection. Once he came home, he’d be happy to see something new to collect.

“I dunno. That doesn’t feel like what I’m meant to do with ‘em,” Gregory replied, folding his arms over his chest as he watched her fold her tickets up like he usually did. “If these are supposed to go to Fazbear Entertainment, why were they hidden like this? Sealed up behind that wall or stashed inside the Egg Baby? Miss Corbett says she bought a bunch of the stuff in here from some weird catalogues that came from her pizzeria start up package, so she probably doesn’t know about the puppet thing and the Egg Baby acting like this.”

The two of them left the skee-ball games to let another group of kids have their turn, walking towards the prize counter to see what they’d be able to get. Cassie let her gaze wander over to the Egg Baby as they passed it, watching as a boy and his mother fed a few tickets into a slot on the animatronic. The eyes swept back and forth as usual and didn’t change at all, even as the smaller Egg Baby in its stomach slid out and popped open the red ball it held to display an assortment of plastic toys and clear goodie bags full of sweets.

She hummed and then looked ahead to the security puppet. It was present at the counter, lifted up from its box to be taller as it held out a hand to collect tickets from a teenager to trade for a prize. The teen pointed out the large foam dart rifle and the puppet closed its hand over the tickets before turning in place to stretch an arm to near impossible lengths to grab the rifle and bring it down. With the exchange complete, the teen walked off with a happy grin and the puppet descended into the box to deposit the tickets before resuming its position at the counter.

“Nobody else gets that weird treatment with their trades,” Cassie pointed out with a blink of realization, “What makes you so special? Is it because you’re an Afton?”

Gregory clicked his tongue in irritation as they reached the counter. “Better not be cuz of that,” he groused and rubbed his head when Cassie gave him a questioning look, “Uh, I’ll tell you later.”

They reached the counter and the security puppet looked first at Cassie and her tickets. She quickly shoved them into her pocket and the puppet turned its attention to Gregory. She held her breath, watching curiously as Gregory held up his folded stack of tickets. The puppet held out its hand to accept them, spindly fingers carefully closing over them once Gregory placed them in its palm. It stood still for a moment, then descended into the box to tuck them away.

��It didn’t wait for you to point at anything from the prizes? It waits for everyone else,” Cassie muttered, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it does that every time,” Gregory agreed with a nod, “First time it happened, you thought I broke it, remember?” His eyes narrowed a bit. “It kinda seems like it was thinking about what to give me. Like there’s a pre-programmed list of ‘prizes’ it’s supposed to give me specifically,” he remarked.

“But you’ve never been here before that field trip, right?” Cassie asked in confusion, “And Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties got these animatronics ages ago.. so how did they get programmed to react to you back then when you never met them?”

Gregory scowled, eyes darting back and forth as he turned that over in his head. “That’s.. a really good question,” he agreed slowly.

The puppet had risen from its box again, staring at Gregory until the two kids turned their attentions back to it. Only then did it raise a hand to point at the far wall of the pizzeria, or rather the large vent grille that Gregory had crawled through last time the puppet had pointed into the distance.

“Fuck my life, you want me to go over there?! Again?!” he complained, throwing up his hands in exasperation, “Nobody cleans over there! It’s full of dust and crap. Do you want me to pick up an allergy or something?!”

“Oh, so that’s why you disappeared on me,” Cassie sighed, adjusting her backpack straps, “I remember you vanishing for a while and scaring me half to death. Guess we’ll have to search the other side of the wall for something?” Gregory gave her a pained expression before groaning in frustration, turning on his heel, and stomping off. She quickly chased after him, determined to follow where he went so he wouldn’t disappear on her again.

She wasn’t going to lose yet another person just because they left her sight for too long...

----------------

The grate on the other end of the tunnel shook a few times from repeated kicks before finally popping off to hit the tile floor. The familiar faint alarm rang in haunting tones as Gregory crawled out, nose wrinkling at the different appearance of the derelict pizzeria, then turned to hold out his hand, helping Cassie out of the vent. She pulled herself to her feet with his grip steadying her. Once she was clear, she looked around herself in awe, eyes wide as she took in the dingy blue-grey walls and grimy checkered tile, flimsy streamers hanging from the ceiling still as death. Rather than lead her deeper down the maze-like tunnel to the other section of the pizzeria, Gregory chose to break through a closer vent entrance but hadn’t expected a drastically different look to the place.

“So this is the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza from the far past?” she asked in a hushed tone, as though unwilling to break the silence. Gregory nodded, eyes darting over to see the pale blue mist gathering nearby to form the ghostly figure that had followed him around the first time he was here. “It feels.. cold.”

“Yeah, creepy, huh? Also head’s up, the old fart’s here to pester us about trespassing or whatever,” he announced, folding his arms over his chest and squinting at Six approaching them with a flat glare.

“Who?” Cassie asked in confusion, looking around them as she shifted closer to Gregory’s side, “Where?”

“Newsflash, dipshit,” Six declared, stopping in front of the kids and planting his hands on his hips, “She’s not Remnant-fucked like us. Can’t see me or hear me, so try not to look crazy in front of your little girlfriend.”

“Uh, sorry, lame prank attempt,” Gregory stammered out, face reddening as he glared back at the spirit, who only gave him a smug smirk for a split second before his expression went back to a mix of neutral and ‘done with this shit’. “So, apparently this was the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza where Mr. Schmidt and Mr. Fitzgerald used to work before it all got shut down.”

“Why’d it get shut down? People love Freddy’s Pizza places!” Cassie exclaimed in surprise before blinking and then narrowing her eyes, “And no pranking in creepy places! It’s not even Halloween!”

“Yeah, they stop loving a place once they catch on that a bunch of kids that went missing all at the same time there turned up dead and mashed to bits inside the animatronics,” Six drawled sarcastically and shrugged, “Place went through a lotta carpet and bleach. Probably why that Pizzaplex shithole has mostly tile and metal flooring; easier to clean the blood off.”

“Uh, too many meat pretzels?” Gregory filled in, walking away hurriedly to start searching.

“They had those back then?” Cassie questioned with a confused expression, following him while Six rolled his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked after them both, “What a weird reason to close a place down.”

Cassie checked her phone as Gregory led her down a long hall, flashlight in hand to help him navigate them both around fallen debris from years of neglect. Every now and then she would lift it up to take a photo of their surroundings, peering into the dark party rooms as they passed them. He would pause in their walk to let her take the photos and shine his flashlight into the party rooms for her to better see.

Through it all the security guard spirit stood by them, silent after his initial disgruntled greeting. His expression remained mostly blank, unreadable save for the odd sadness in his eyes that Gregory could still pick up. It almost made him feel bad for bothering the guy by coming back to this side of Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties, but something was going on that nobody knew about -again, because clearly nobody had any clue that kids and employees were fucking vanishing at the Pizzaplex thanks to Vanny’s weird experiments until he got loose and wrecked the place- and he had to follow up on it.

“Dad would’ve loved seeing some of this,” Cassie said suddenly, pulling Gregory’s attention to her. She had gone into one of the party rooms, holding a faded paper mask shaped like a rabbit’s face. She looked up at Gregory with a wobbly smile. “Bonnie was Dad’s favorite. Has a whole collection of Bonnie merch that he had stashed away but didn’t stop him from getting more collectables if he could find any,” she added and sighed, setting the mask down carefully on a party table. “He’s already got a vintage Bonnie mask, but.. y’know.”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory murmured, gut twisting as he thought back to those disappeared employees. He still had no idea if Cassie’s dad was one of them, a victim that Vanny had made Sydney get rid of when the Pizzaplex staff got replaced by animatronic versions. Maybe there was a chance of him being alive if he took a sick day? But then where would he be that he couldn’t come back home?

“I wonder if Fazbear Entertainment knows anything,” Cassie muttered with a suspicious tone in her voice, “since Mr. Fitzgerald said he had something of a deal with the company over his dad’s time working for them. Maybe it’s the same with my dad.” She pulled away from the table and shook herself off. “We’re here to find what the puppet sent us here to get for you. So let’s get going,” she decided firmly, “We can look into my dad when we get something to start with.”

Gregory nodded, unsure what else to say. If there were answers to be found, it wouldn’t be easy to find them and it was a pretty good chance they wouldn’t like what those answers would be. Cassie gave him another smile, a more confident one, and headed back out of the party room. He followed her out, glancing up at Six who had just leaned against a wall waiting for them to be done.

“You have any idea what I’m supposed to find this time?” he asked quietly, walking after Cassie while the spirit fell into step beside him.

“Since you’re heading this way.. I have a pretty good idea what the next thing is,” Six replied and sighed tiredly, “For what it’s worth.. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Gregory asked warily, but the spirit didn’t answer, just tugged the brim of his hat down to hide his eyes in the shadow.

At the end of the hall was a large entrance that gave a clear view of what looked like a security office. Gregory frowned in brief confusion; there was already a security office for the pizzeria, a smaller one with doors on the sides that could be closed. What’s with this one that only had a front entryway that was so wide open? He raised the flashlight to look up at the ceiling as he and Cassie approached the office. Other than the cracking, damaged tile there wasn’t anything to indicate a door that could come down to seal off the room from the rest of the building.

That made him feel far more anxious than the other security office.

“This place looks like a wreck,” Cassie remarked with a huff, walking in and picking her way past knocked over cardboard boxes and old posters that were strewn across the floor. “Didn’t anyone ever clean up in here?” She leaned over to look into large open vents in the sides of the office, taking more photos with her phone, the flash of the camera app lighting up the insides of the vents in bursts.

“There’s this guy who looks after this place who said that it got raided a long time ago, so the mess is probably from that,” Gregory offered, stepping up after Cassie lost interest in the vent. He kicked a cardboard box full of dusty streamers and party hats in front of the opening and felt a little more settled. He’d already done the same for the other vent so now both entrances were blocked. What else was he supposed to do?

“Hey, check out these lockers!” Cassie said excitedly, pointing at the dull and rusted metal containers lined up along the back wall behind the oddly bare desk. Gregory glanced over at Six for a moment, the spirit leaning against the entrance to the office and still silent, just watching them, before going over to join the girl wiping at the labels of the lockers where she could reach. “This one belonged to Mr. Fitzgerald,” she told him in a hushed voice, eyes bright with curiosity as she pointed at a locker.

“Wonder if he left anything in there?” Gregory asked and jiggled the latch to see if it would open. There wasn’t a lock like on some of the other lockers, and although it was hard to move from rust, the latch eventually gave way. The door swung open slowly and with a harsh scraping, metal dust flaking and breaking away from the hinges. Both kids looked in eagerly, curious to what may be inside.

The shelf in the locker had a sort of mask made from what appeared to be the actual head of an old Freddy Fazbear, the face and cheeks covered in aged fur fabric, straps screwed into place and held together by a cheap buckle. Next to it was a soft blue cap with the words ‘Night Shift’ printed onto it cheaply in black block lettering. A spare night shift uniform hung directly under it, matching soft blue shirt and navy blue slacks neatly pressed and faded in color from the dust that covered them. On the floor of the locker was an open first aid kit, many of its supplies missing, likely used, and a few spilled out. Some bandages fluttered out when the door opened, brand characters smiling on the wrappers from where they landed on the office floor.

“Wh-what kinda job did Mr. Fitzgerald have to be using up so much medical stuff when he was here?” Cassie asked warily, staring down at the kit with her brow furrowed. She looked up as Gregory reached out to pull the shirt forward for a better look at it.

“Short sleeves,” he remarked quietly. Cassie gave him a questioning look and his expression grew pinched. “You ever see Mr. Fitzgerald wear short sleeves now?”

Her look of confusion stayed in place for a while until a faintly horrified one took its place. “What happened here?!” she asked in a hushed scream, backing away from the locker. A creaking sounded overhead and Cassie looked up at the ceiling in fear.

“Cassie, it’s okay. This was all in the past! We’re good, we’re safe!” Gregory told her, glancing over at Six in hopes that he wasn’t lying through his teeth. The spirit nodded and he relaxed only a little. The open doorway was still making the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Why would he need so much first aid on the night shift?!” she demanded to know, fists planted on her hips, “All he had to do was just watch cameras, right?!” Gregory shrugged, eyes wide. Maybe he hadn’t been joking about the whole ‘five nights of dealing with killer animatronics’ too. Freddy had to give him a lot of first aid during that night long ago. “Let’s just get what you need to find and go; it really is creepy in here,” Cassie whimpered, hugging herself and glancing up at the ceiling again.

“Sure,” Gregory agreed and looked at the contents of the locker again. It was so strange to see a uniform that Mr. Fitzgerald used to wear when he was young. So small...

Nothing really popped out at him as something to take, so Gregory carefully closed the locker door, listening to the latch lock in place. It sounded strangely final, like it wouldn’t feel right to open it again, ever. He smoothed his hand over the locker, palm pressed to the metal, then finally left it to look at another one.

Wait, why did Mr. Schmidt have a locker on this side too? “He had two lockers? What the heck?” Gregory questioned, tapping at the nameplate on the locker beside Mr. Fitzgerald’s one. He didn’t take Cassie as far down that main hall as he went last time, so maybe it was because the pizzeria was actually big enough that it needed two security offices? The Pizzaplex had so many more for each section of the place so that sort of made sense. Mr. Schmidt would be the more senior security guard so he’d have a locker in both offices first; maybe Mr. Fitzgerald only managed to get the one before the place shut down?

“You got an old security tablet and Mr. Schmidt’s name tag,” Cassie puzzled out as she rubbed her chin, “Maybe the puppet wants you to collect things that belonged to him?” Her mouth twisted to one side in confusion. “But why him? What’s the big deal about this one guard that isn’t even around anymore? Is Fazbear Entertainment that interested in the guy’s stuff?”

“Maybe he had dirt on the company and this was a way of hiding that dirt so Fazbear Entertainment couldn’t make it disappear? Mr. Fitzgerald said that he had evidence about some stuff involving his dad and the company that they didn’t want showing up in court, so I guess Mr. Schmidt had some other stuff for his own reasons,” Gregory offered with a shrug, jiggling the latch of the locker. Just like the one for Mr. Fitzgerald, it was rusty and hard to move but it eventually gave way, opening slowly with harsh scraping as Gregory fought against the aged hinges. Cassie peeked in over his shoulder as he stared at the contents in blank confusion.

There wasn’t much inside the locker beside small spatterings of rusty-brown stains on the shelf and floor, a strong smell of iron drifting around. An old fashioned camera rested on the locker floor as well, a point and shoot type that could print out its own photos to develop over time. Gregory had the FazCam back home that could do the same if he bothered to get the stuff for it. He had been mostly interested in the flash it could produce to stun animatronics back in the Pizzaplex.

“Is that.. blood?” Cassie whispered, her voice carrying a note of dread, “Why’s there blood in his locker?”

The camera wasn’t colorful or fun-looking at all. It was very plain and boring, brown and gray, the brand name sticker long faded and unreadable.

“So is the camera the thing you’re supposed to take?” Cassie asked hesitantly, “Gregory?”

A piece of white tape was pasted along the side near the bottom of the camera, the name ‘Mike’ scrawled on it in black marker. If any photos had been taken with it, they weren’t in the locker anymore.

He reached in and carefully picked up the camera, a numbness settling over him. Muscle memory took over as he lifted the viewing lens to his eye, turned, and pointed the other lens at Cassie. She gave him a concerned look as he pressed the button and took a picture. The flash wasn’t as bright or blinding, and the photo slid out the bottom to be taken as he lowered the camera from his face.

“Gregory?” Cassie asked softly, the concern still in her expression, “Why are you crying?”

How many people disappeared over the length of time he was stuck in the Pizzaplex’s lab? (How many people were swept under the rug after a failed night?) So many kids taken from families and killed. (So many guards snatched away from their families on a whim.) And here he was, the one who got away and built a family from the pieces he pulled from the Pizzaplex. (And there he was, the only survivor for the longest time, ever the one to walk out in the morning.)

Gregory raised a hand to his head, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes as he blinked tears away. “It hurts,” he murmured distantly and Cassie immediately started digging into her backpack for spare headache medicine. With her distracted by that, he slid his gaze over to Six. The spirit just looked back at him with a forlorn expression, glancing down at the camera in his hands briefly.

“Guilt is painful,” Six told him solemnly, arms folded over his chest, hands gripping his sleeves tightly. Bandages were wrapped around his fingers, a detail Gregory had never noticed before. “The fact I still exist means it never stopped bein’ painful.” He smiled weakly. “But you already knew that, didn’t ya?”

“Here,” Cassie said, holding out a bottle of water and a pair of capsules in her hands, “This should help.” Gregory accepted the bottle and medication, taking them in silence while she took the camera from him and studied it carefully. “This is definitely the real deal. My mom used to have a camera like this. Grandma has photo albums full of pictures she took with it. What kind of photos did Mr. Schmidt take and where did they all go?” she wondered aloud.

Gregory rubbed his face dry with the back of one hand, the half empty bottle of water held tight in his grip. An instant photo camera, a pair of lockers bare of any photos, many lockers with nameplates scratched up or removed, and that look of guilt on Six’s face. Maybe Fazbear Entertainment had a habit of making people disappear long before the Pizzaplex was built? And yet both Mr. Fitzgerald and Mr. Schmidt walked away from everything in one piece, so why was he being directed to collect Mr. Schmidt’s things? He sniffled, rolling the bottle in both hands as he looked up at the other lockers.

“I think.. I think he was taking pictures of everyone that ever came to work here,” he said out loud and looked over at Cassie as she gingerly tucked the camera into her backpack for safekeeping.

“Well, yeah, that makes sense,” she agreed, reaching out to help him up as they prepared to leave the office, “There’s a big wall of photos at the supermarket for Employees of the Month, so they probably had something like that here.”

“Maybe,” Gregory said uneasily and finished off the bottle of water before dropping the plastic container into the office trash can. More crumpled paper cups jostled with the movement, old trash welcoming new.

The two kids began their walk back to the connecting vent, passing through the open entrance together as Six pushed away from the wall to follow alongside them. “I just don’t get it. Why do you wanna stay?” the spirit mused aloud, cocking his head aside when Gregory glared at him over his shoulder. “The hell you gettin’ mad at me for?” Six asked with a frown, “You’re the one walkin’ off with Mike’s relics. I need those for power, ya lil shit.” Gregory stuck out his tongue in response and Six just rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Shoulda known better than to be asking questions when he couldn’t answer. He was the one who told Gregory not to look crazy in front of Cassie, so why was he getting huffy that he couldn’t answer normally?

When they reached the opening for the ventilation tunnel, Gregory offered for Cassie to go through first. “I’m gonna try and put the cover back on behind us,” he claimed weakly, holding up the bent grille, “I’ll catch up in a bit, don’t worry!”

“Alright, but if you don’t show up over at Circus Baby’s in ten minutes, I’m telling your mom,” Cassie threatened, then crawled into the tunnel and disappeared into the shadows, soft thumps fading away as the faint alarms went off once more.

“As for you,” Gregory went on, turning to scowl at Six as he tossed the grille aside, “what the hell is your problem?! I’m trying to get some answers and you’re being a pain in the ass!”

“Takes one to know one,” Six shot back, hands on his hips as he glared back down at the boy, “And if you want my advice, kid, you’d be better off not huntin’ for more pieces.” The guilt flashed across his face for a moment before the scowl took its place again. “Leave this sorta shit to the Guards. Ya have a family that’s lookin’ out for ya and ya got a whole life ahead of ya. It’s not easy gettin’ away from Aftons or Fazfuck, but you did it. Don’t risk getting caught up in this shit again,” he urged.

“Fat load of good that did; none of them did anything until Sydney got kidnapped and by then me and Vanessa lost everything about ourselves!” Gregory snapped, one hand splayed over his chest, “My memories are gone! My Remnant’s been fucked to hell and back! Hers too! I dunno why that stupid puppet started giving me that guy’s old stuff, but if he had something that could shut down Fazbear Entertainment for good, then I’m gonna keep collecting it until I get those answers!”

“He had something the Aftons wanted, alright,” Six said scornfully, “And it sure as hell wasn’t any ‘dirt’ on their fucking company. If you thought they were already bad now, killing so many people over the years for their bullshit experiments, you’re definitely not gonna like how fucked everyone will be if they get hold of The Strength to Survive and The Warmth of Life. Do me a favor and stay the hell away from it all!”

“I’m gettin’ those answers and there ain’t shit you can do to stop me,” Gregory huffed, preparing to get into the vent himself, “Whatever those things are that Vanny wants, I’ll just get them first and fuck up her plans again.” He ignored the harsh bark of laughter from the spirit as he started crawling away, hoping to make it back to Circus Baby’s before Cassie made good on her threat.

She was way scarier when mad than Six could ever be.

-------------------

“You cut it close~,” Cassie sang out with a teasing smile as Gregory tumbled out of the vent and rubbed his head.

“Sorry, I tried to get the cover back on and I guess I bent it out of shape too much,” he told her with a sheepish laugh, getting to his feet. She hummed, squinting at him suspiciously before shrugging.

“Yeah, you are weirdly strong for your size,” she agreed and pointed towards the games corner, “So now that we have the camera, do we take it over to the security puppet like you did last time?” He nodded, walking beside her as they made their way across the pizzeria to the games room and prize counter.

Gregory glanced around to track where everyone was in the dining area. Circus Baby was performing on stage, holding her hands up to make a heart shape for the kids cheering up at her while she danced. Miss Corbett was walking from table to table, checking in on families and her waitstaff to make sure everything was going well. Alex was hanging out near the door that led to the back offices and rooms, scanning the room sternly until he spotted Gregory. He raised a hand in greeting and Gregory waved back to reassure the guy that everything was fine and there was no need to investigate him messing around with the ventilation tunnel.

They reached the counter and waited their turn behind a group of teens who spent their pool of tickets on a badminton set and water pistols. Once they hurried off in a cloud of giggles, Gregory and Cassie stepped up with her digging the camera out of her backpack while he gave the puppet his usual glare of annoyance. She pulled it free and held it up, but the puppet made no movement, only stared down at Gregory unblinkingly.

“Why’s it not working?” Cassie asked in confusion, looking between the puppet and the camera, “Did we get the wrong thing?”

Gregory frowned, pulling his attention to her, then to the camera. Why wasn’t the puppet reacting? This was definitely something from Mr. Schmidt; Six said so. The puppet reacted to the nametag, so why...?

He blinked, looking at the camera in Cassie’s hands again. “Huh,” he muttered. Did it only matter if he was the one holding the stuff? “Here, give me the camera,” he said, “Let’s see if it works if I show it the camera.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cassie said in a dubious tone, turning the camera over to him, “The puppet acts weird for you only, so why not be double weird when it’s not you? Where the heck did the owner of this place buy this thing from anyway?”

Gregory shrugged, taking the camera in his hands and then holding it up for the puppet to see. He tried not to think about the way his skin crawled holding it, a wrongness in the way he was treating the thing. Was there even a certain way he should? It was just a camera, why was it such a big deal?

The puppet immediately reacted once it saw the camera in Gregory’s hands, raising a finger to point at the Egg Baby again. He glared in frustration, huffing as he turned to walk over to the animatronic.

“Huh, so same as last time,” Cassie said thoughtfully, “The puppet and the Egg Baby.. they’re both programmed to react to Mr. Schmidt’s things, but only if you’re the one holding those things. So there’s a connection between you, Mr. Schmidt, and the person who programmed these animatronics, right?” She squinted her eyes at him as Gregory shrugged again, a faintly disturbed expression on his face.

“If there is one, I don’t remember what it is. Amnesia sure is convenient like that,” he griped, “The guy only had two kids, Mr. Fitzgerald and this old lady named Faith, and they didn’t recognize me as anybody different.” Gregory blinked as he remembered the sad look on the old woman’s face as she hummed a song that had put him so on edge he didn’t know if he was going to run away screaming or start throwing things at anything that moved near him. “..I think,” he amended uncertainly, “A lot of the grown ups connected to Mr. Schmidt are just weird, but I guess that’s cuz of all the crap they had to deal with.”

The Egg Baby’s eyes swept back and forth as usual until the two kids approached, the camera still in Gregory’s hands. It halted its gaze, locked onto Gregory’s face to run the familiar scanning sweep, then dropped the light down to the camera to do the same. The same soft whirring began to sound from the Egg Baby’s belly and the kids stepped back to give space for the smaller baby to push out the red capsule and pop open the lid.

“Are you gonna get another piece of old tech again?” Cassie asked dryly, blinking as the lid clicked open to reveal another heavy hard drive resting on the cushion.

“Two,” Gregory said quietly, reaching down to pick it up and mindful of the old cables wrapping around its case protectively.

“Guess that answers that question,” Cassie sighed, “What even is in these things? Did you check that first one you got some time back?”

“Yeah, animatronic programming,” he replied, looking between the two old pieces of technology in his arms, “I guess this one will have more. Huh. Mr. Schmidt was supposed to watch over the original Freddy Fazbear and friends when he worked at Freddy’s, so am I supposed to rebuild them with these?”

“Uh, how? You’re just a kid,” Cassie pointed out as they left the prize area to go back to their booth and wait for their respective guardians to pick them up, “I mean, yeah, you’re an Afton, but that really doesn’t make up for being a kid with, like, no money and also little.”

“Hey, I’m taller than you!” Gregory protested weakly, pouting as she just scoffed and gave him a teasing smirk.

“Barely,” she countered and sat back in the booth, pulling out her phone to text her grandmother, “Anyway, if those drives are of the original Freddy and friends, then do they belong to Afton Robotics? Since they bought Fredbear’s Diner and all their properties, like the old animatronics, y’know?”

“Mine now. Finders, keepers and all that shit,” Gregory told her with a tired grin. Vanessa and Sydney would be showing up since he only could stay at Circus Baby’s for a few hours to hang out with Cassie while they scouted the Pizzaplex for a good entry point. Freddy wanted to join them when they did the break-in, volunteering to help disable the other Glamrocks so that Vanessa and Sydney could get their chips using their higher level security badges. Mr. Fitzgerald wanted him and his friends to join in to get to whatever servers were in the building for more information about Afton’s plans, so they were probably going to have to figure out how to work around and with each other.

Meanwhile, Gregory was just trying to wrap his head around all these secrets and things that seemed to be tangling around him when all he wanted to do was just be happy with his family and maybe fix what he broke to make up for it.

“Might as well work on homework until my grandma and your mom shows up,” Cassie decided, pulling out a workbook from her backpack, “Did you bring yours?” She frowned at Gregory’s guilty expression, giving him a lidded glare back. “And then you wonder why our homeroom teacher is always on your case,” she sighed.

---------

In the safety of his own room, with Freddy looking over his shoulder with a strangely solemn air, Gregory connected the drive to his own computer, a refurbished setup Alex gave him to use for his coding practice so he’d stop borrowing the burner laptop. Animatronic programming filled the screen as he dug through the files, picking out names and identifying markers.

“Bonnie,” he read aloud, looking up at the sharp gasp Freddy uttered. The animatronic bear looked heartbroken, ears drooping as his newly rounded shoulders dropped, making him look wilted.

“Ah, Bonnie, a name I dearly hold of someone I miss very, very much,” he murmured in a low voice, “I confess that I hope our search of the Pizzaplex to rescue the Glamrocks would also lead us to find out what happened to Glamrock Bonnie.”

“No harm in trying, I guess,” Gregory offered with a small smile. It would be nice to find Freddy’s friend. Anytime he mentioned rabbits or looked at something that was related to the rabbit painted on the upper level of the atrium, Freddy always looked miserable. Glamrock Bonnie must have meant something special to him. He turned back to the screen and studied the lines of code carefully, frowning a little at the familiar writing.

He knew these commands somehow, this buried coding that was nested in deep and seemed to be gripping onto the software like a parasite. And above that was another set of programming blocks that was organized in a particular pattern, a different syntax from the base personality, the weird additions that were like Freddy’s code, and a broken security patch that seemed to be controlled by that parasitic code. It was all the same as what was in the drive for Chica.

“I’m gonna have to do a lot of fixing to bring these guys back,” Gregory sighed. More sleepless nights then.

He flexed his fingers to loosen them up, then bent to work.

#fanfiction #bits and pieces #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie #parlourverse au

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uwu-scraptrappy · 2 months ago

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*thinks about my blorbos so hard I explode* I'm unable to recover from the snitch brothers post with adam michael and diego so I have a new saw au idea

It's one of those coming of age teen high school movies except the three of them are the main characters and the Big Plot is that they're all desperately trying to avoid people that are trying to hire them to spy on people but they're accidentally roping themselves into something so ridiculously complicated that everyone involved has no idea what's what. The Big Idea? People are trying to prove john kramer (who is lawrence and Mark and amanda and logan's adoptive dad) is a serial killer

Tapp giving Adam money to go spy on Lawrence? Uh oh, he hates that guy and won't go anywhere near him!!(He's secretly dating Lawrence)

Matthews trying to get Michael to go spy on this group of kids? Sorry, man, he's got a date!! (He doesn't)

Cecelia trying to rope Diego into her schemes? Can't, he's taking his driver's test!! (Couldn't drive if his life depended on it)

So then it becomes a plot to 1) Hide Adam and Larry's secret relationship from Tapp 2) Somehow get Michael a date 3) Get Diego his driver's license!!!!

B plot 1) Adam goes through so many convoluted plots to get Tapp off Larry's back, including locking himself and his bf in a bathroom, pretending to poison himself with a cigarette, making up a story about Lawrence's secret girlfriend (Zepp, somehow, gets involved)

B plot 2) Michael goes through a list of every person he knows in the school to try and find one person that a) Doesn't know Eric b) will not accidentally date him for real, and eventually settles on unnamed janitor (someone had the galaxy brained take to name him Issac so that's what I'm going with) so Michael asks him out and, spoiler alert, they end up genuinely liking each other

B plot 3) A series of Diego diligently studying every textbook on driving that exists, but no textbook can save him from the real hurdle: anxiety behind the wheel. He just can't do it. Climax of this B plot comes when the three get into some hijinks that require them to quickly speed off in a car, and Diego... Does it. Flawlessly. (Ends up passing out at the realization that he drove a moving vehicle)

A plot gets resolved when John rigs a Billy puppet to tricycle in detailed plans for all the scary things he makes (it's literally just a silly exercise in what he can make. Also all the traps do in fact work but the way they do irl) idk I'm eepy

Anyways Lionsgate give me 3 billion dollars to make this movie

#saw #sawtism #three snitches and a dream #hold on should i actually write this #also zepp and logan are dating i dont make the rules #strahm tried to hire adam to get pictures of hoffman but adam alters every photo to make his lips look even bigger #the diego sideplot is based on the taxi driver thing #idk i thought it was funny #sure he and mateo can be dating why not #or maybe not idk #a little bit of diego x custodian might be silly though #not like an actual ship just diego mentioning that he finds issac hot and michael damn nearly losing it #diego is just Waiting for him to realize he has an actual crush #diego: your not boyfriend is gnc as fuck #michael: youre INSANE #sure. pirahnashipping can be canon. why not

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callunavulgari · 6 months ago

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Eddie finds Stevie in the boy’s bathroom. It’s a Monday, which means that he’s still half asleep and reeling from Mr. Donaldson’s delightful first period lecture on The Catcher and the fucking Rye when he stumbles through the doors to the bathroom tucked around the back corner near the band room. Not the good bathroom by the language hall, no— the good bathroom was the one that the cool kids used. The one that Eddie frequents is the one with the ancient wonky toilet that no one ever actually uses because there’s a fifty-fifty chance of the singular working toilet in the room either flushing like normal or of it deciding to fuck you completely and flooding halfway down the hallway.

It’s been Eddie’s designated smoking spot since Rick let him in on the secret halfway through his sophomore year at good ole Hawkins High. Ninety-five percent of the time the room’s an absolute ghost town and if someone does show up it’s usually a fellow stoner looking for somewhere quiet to self-medicate before they’re subjected to the mind numbing horrors of Jeb fucking Houser’s government class a few doors down.

Which is why Eddie’s surprised to swing the doors open on a random Monday in late April and find the room already occupied— not by any of the usual suspects, but by Stevie goddamn Harrington, the queen bee of Hawkins High herself.

For a long moment, Eddie just stares at her like a deer in headlights, his fingers going lax around the cigarette that he’d already shaken loose from the pack. He doesn’t even notice it tumbling to the ground.

She’s sitting on the floor.

That’s what he keeps getting stuck on.

She’s just sitting there with her knees splayed out against the grimy tile, her body crumpled back against the far wall like a puppet with its strings cut. Her hair is still big, her nails still perfect, but there had been sniffles when he walked in, loud and ominous in the quiet until she’d clocked him standing there, her head snapping towards him.

Looking at her now… yeah, those are tears. Her dark eyes are big and round and wet, her lashes clumped hopelessly together with even more unshed tears. There are faint tracks down her cheeks where her mascara has run, black smears that skate past her chin.

For a long moment, they both just stare at each other in horrified silence. And then Eddie shifts awkwardly and breaks the stare down, belatedly stooping to scoop up his cigarette.

“Sorry,” he says, gesturing at the cigarette by way of explanation. He jerks the zippo from his pocket and jiggles it in her direction. “I just, uh—” He hesitates, not sure what to say. Should he offer to leave? Leave her to the dubious privacy of the shittiest bathroom in the school and give her back some modicum of her dignity? He thinks that’s probably his best option, to just turn around and get the heck out of dodge, but at the last second, he changes his mind, holding the cigarette out in question. “—you mind?”

Stevie blinks at him, the wet drag of her lashes terribly distracting. He watches them kiss her cheeks as if in slow motion and thinks for a moment, appallingly, of whether they’d feel whisper-soft against the palm of his hand if he touched them, a ghost of a touch like a butterfly’s wings.

Eddie watches in real time as she tries to compose herself, sniffing hard and wiping under her eyes as her spine goes straighter, her knees tucking back together all prim and proper. She bites her lip and for a moment he thinks that she’s going to argue with him, tell him to get out and go find another place to smoke.

Instead, she gives him a slightly watery smile and thrusts a hand out expectantly. “Only if you’ve got one to spare.”

#stranger things #steddie #stevie harrington #eddie munson #heather writes

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violetsareblue-selfships · 1 year ago

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2, 3, 8, 14 for scara?? :3c ( @ayatoscupid )

ty cupid :3

2. Gush about your f/o's voice!

Oh my gosh, I love his voice. I could listen to it for hours. (And this counts for all languages... his VAs do such a good job). Like his voice is already pretty soft & quiet unless he's upset or angry, but with me, it gets even softer... And when I hear him the few times he gets openly excited about something... man, his voice is so pretty. I'm weak for him being happy in general and when he sounds like he's happy ughhhh I love it. Pretty boy, pretty voice it just works ehe~

Gonna put the rest under a readmore bc yeah :3

3. Gush about your f/o's smile!

Okay, so he doesn't smile all that often (especially when we're not alone) but when he does?? Wow... He's so freaking pretty. And it makes him look so soft and aaa <333 I'm always so happy whenever I'm on the receiving end of one of those smiles (especially when it's a proper, genuine smile and not one of his little smirks - which I love!! don't get me wrong but a proper smile??? I'll melt on the spot) (also he could totally get me to do anything by smiling at me like that but at least he hasn't quite figured out that weakness yet. give him time, we'll have plenty of it hehe)

8. Gush about how your f/o acts/looks when they're flustered!

eee okay so when he gets flustered, he'll hide behind his hat and like turn away and basically gets all tsuntsun (which is frankly adorable). but when he isn't wearing his hat, he'll still try to hide his face (looking away, hiding it in my neck, covering it with his hands) but he looks even prettier when he's all flustered. despite being a puppet, he can still blush and he just looks all soft and cute and <333 and it's not super hard for me to make him turn red, especially since he's still not used to how soft my words can be, so this is a treat I get rather often and I just fall more in love with him every time I see him all blushy and shy <3

14. Gush about how your F/O treats you (Are they protective? Loving? Are you the only person who gets to see their soft side?)!

All of the above, yes. He's pretty dang protective, even though he knows that I can handle my own in a fight. He just doesn't like seeing me get hurt and if he can prevent that... he'll do it. He's actually super sweet and clingy but only when it's just the two of us alone (it took a while to get to that point of course but now... it's hard to find him not near me or holding me (or at least my hand)). And, yes, while he's a little softer now than he was back in the Fatui, I'm still the only one who sees how truly soft he can be (though I guess the Traveler has their moments of seeing him softer but still). Also, I'm like his one weakness?? Anything I want, I get it pretty much (even if he's complaining about it, he'll still do it - especially when it comes to dates I wanna go on or the like~)

#self shipping #self ship #f/o #romantic f/o #fictional other #thanks for the ask!#his right hand 💖😈#cupid💘

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syxnewt · 2 months ago

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all day I've been thinking about what an epic the musical show might look like on stage so here are my main ideas

I'm not really a theatre person or anything so idk about how realistic or sensical this is but whatever

A main feature of the show would be a screen/projection behind everything so movement could be conveyed without actually having to move a lot of set pieces. I bring this up now so when I talk about it more it's not confusing

another big thing to me is that during moments in the show where people die in the water, there's people holding fabric or ribbons or something to give the appearance of water. This is so people can fall off the ships and "float away". Since it would probably be tiring to do that the whole show that's why I specified "when people die in the water". I also think it should happen when Odysseus and Poseidon meet for the final time, just for added tension

Polyphemus would be a sort of puppet guy, all his voicelines pre-recorded. He'd be a giant body with hands controlled by stagehand/ensemble puppeteers. I think the legs would be painted on to a black dome with wheels at the bottom, so he could be moved around, and the head would have a compartment for the wine. In my head, when Odysseus gives him the wine, Polyphemus just kinda chucks it in his mouth and so the compartment is so it doesn't crash through the dome and onto the floor

the other cyclopses would just be puppet heads that peek out from the wings

I think when they sharpen his club, the club would be prematurely "broken" so they can just take pieces off while the lights are dimmed to give it its official appearance

the best way I could figure Aeolus works is that there's a cloud platform up in the air that just never moves but usually isn't in view. It's also used for Zeus in thunder bringer and god games, which I'll talk about a little more later. Aeolus would probably have one of those harness things that lets them glide across the stage, and during the part of the song before the bag is open I imagine they'd be flying near the ship singing their piece before going back to the cloud for safety reasons when Odysseus has his lines. The winions would just be people in costumes on the ground the whole time

something else I think is important is that it's clear to the audience eurylochus is the one who opens the bag. Like the lights will mostly be focused on Odysseus during that part but it's not like they'll try to hide he did it. This is for a variety of reasons. Number one it would just be hard, no way NO ONE notices eurylochus opens the bag. Number two I think that's the intent tbh. As cool as it is to be just as in the dark as Odysseus the songs don't really service that line of thought. When eury tries to confess at the start of puppeteer it would just be confusing by an audience perspective if they don't know that's what he's talking about, and when he finally tells Odysseus in Scylla there isn't time for the audience to be like "wait what??" The song just keeps going. I think hiding it could technically still work but it would just make more sense to see the guilt from the start

I have no fucking clue how Poseidon would work. I think he should be big, so I'm imagining maybe a staircase sort of thing that looks like a giant wave he stands atop, and the "waves" move as he commands them with his trident.

i mostly just wanted to talk about Scylla so we're gonna skip everything else now I want to talk about scylla

During the start of the song, the screen would shift from like an outside ocean/sky view to the inside of a cave, and the singer for Scylla would kind of "swim" around singing her piece. Whenever eurylochus is like "something approaches....." she's be on the left hand side of the stage (audience view) and then when the music builds up before "row for your lives" six sea monster puppet heads will emerge behind her. I think that's the best way of doing it. They'd be made of paper or some other light material so when they "attack" it's doesn't hurt and lets the actors know they should roll off the ship and float away. Scylla would move in such a way that makes the heads look like they're moving with her. I think she could also walk in place to look like she's pursuing the ship but maybe that wouldn't work

Not important but in my head Odysseus doesn't even face Scylla the entire time she's singing, he's just focused on what lies ahead

then the screen moves from the cave back to the open sea, and the heads retreat with the cave. I think Scylla the singer should stay out as she finishes her harmony with Odysseus before going back herself

okay now thunder bringer I don't have a lot of thoughts but I think it would be sick if the screen portrayed a sort of animated Zeus that looked like he was made of clouds and he and the actor on top of the cloud platform moved in sync. Cloud Zeus wouldn't have a lip sync bc that would look awkward if the actor decided to sing the song a little differently or accidentally desynced with the music. it's okay if their movements de sync though because it would still look cool Whenever ody makes his decision actor Zeus would reach down to pick up a lightning bolt prop and hurl it towards the crew, where the lights would flash before the stage goes dark. I think that's end of act one? So the curtains could just close as the music goes out

another thought is about Athena and her quick thought. Whenever she does that, I think whatever's on the screen takes on a bluish tinge and a translucent hourglass is overlaid atop it. Also the actual stage lights go blue. Then during god games (which I'll go into a little more detail soon) when ares breaks her quick thought the lights go red and the hourglass becomes distorted. When she gets control of it again it would turn blue again. Because obviously

so for god games itself Zeus would be on the cloud platform and be watching essentially the whole time, getting visibly pissed off as Athena goes through his game. Each god would have their own segment, the screen transitioning to their realm or whatever as they move on the stage. I don't know what that would look like. The transition would play as the song sort of transitions between the gods' parts of the song, with the dololololo. A few of the animatics I've seen had the gods fighting Athena which is cool but tbh not extremely practical. Ares definitely should bc god of war + it just sounds like he's doing that in the song but for everyone else I don't think it makes a whole ton of sense.

I have no other thoughts about this. These are just the songs I like the most and thus put the most thought into

#this musical has a lot of cool ideas and animatics but I don't know how this would work as an actual stage musical #there's no way it would be as dynamic as an animation so I just tried to think about practicalities that preserved the sense of coolness #under a read more because I yap a lot

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nineliabilityrisk · 1 year ago

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Inflammatory words, an invasion of his personal space, that slow, deliberate demeanor — William was trying to coax something out of him. An admission, if nothing else. Trying to tempt him into saying something in the heat of the moment that he'd never, in his right mind, allow to surface ... and the worst part was that it was working. The accusations, damn near attacks on his attachment to William– the man knew good and well how he felt. Knew Henry cared far, far too much to only consider him a pretty face, a bed warmer. There was never a time where there weren't feelings involved, at least on Henry's end, and to imply that he'd ever be so cold as to think of Will in such a way — he knew William was just begging for him to correct it. To reassure him, to stroke his ego.

No, William, I'm hopelessly in love with you, I always have been, why would you ever think I wasn't? You're everything to me. Everything I have. Love doesn't even begin to cover it, anymore. Was that what he wanted to hear?

Why did he even need it put into words? Every single little thing Henry did on a day to day basis served to show his devotion a million times over. He was no good with his words, never had been, and it wasn't exactly like his skills improved when he was this thoroughly intoxicated. William wanted him riled up, emotional — wanted him to say something he'd regret. That was the only reason he was pushing like this, it had to be– why else would he be trying to coax an admission out of him right now?

As much as the pressuring made his hackles rise, his unwavering trust in William eventually won out. It was a weakness of his, he knew it was, but William always managed to worm his way past his defenses within moments — fingers slipped in between his ribs to dig into his heart. A vice grip, applied to the softest parts of him in just the right way to feel more like a caress than a chokehold ... he was helpless to resist William's manipulations. Couldn't even imagine trying to, even now, as the man only kept poking and prodding at the rawness inside him with his words. Salt in the wounds, insult to injury — like his vulnerable state was only something to take advantage of.

The alcohol, the exhaustion, the pain, the damn near delirium — it all worked in William's favor. If he'd been in his right mind, if the man hadn't already dug himself in so firmly past every single emotional wall he'd built over the years, he'd be appalled at the blatant disrespect for his boundaries, but, as it was, he could only play along. Puppet on a string, hopeless to resist. Couldn't even see a reason to try. Felt like an exposed nerve, William's presence somehow both aggravating and soothing. He was the electricity sparking along his veins, the pins and needles setting in, misfiring signals in his brain — and yet he was also the soothing balm he needed to chase away the ache. No matter how hard he tried to provoke him, how his words prodded at those deep, sensitive parts of him, his presence was still addicting to Henry. Probably always would be, in some fucked up codependent way.

"Will..." Meant as a warning, coming out as more of a plea. A whisper of a touch — enough to shatter his confidence and any hope of resistance. Of holding back. "Be serious about this. Please." Stop tempting me. Stop pushing. The provocative words weren't helping the conflict in his head. "You can't expect me to ... to be ready for a talk like this. Not tonight, not now — I'm drunk. We both are. This isn't a conversation we should be having." Last little bit of reason holding out. Wouldn't be for long, though. He knew it was futile. Any hope of convincing Will to drop it, to let it be ... nonexistent. William was never one to be deterred from anything he set his mind to — was far too obsessive for that, a fact Henry knew far too well.

A twitch of his fingers, an abortive movement to grab onto William's hand, to give in to the anchoring touch. No. He was trying to make a point here, he couldn't... "You are here for me. You always have been ... more than anyone else," he admitted, gaze averted, nerves too frayed to even look at the other man. Knew that, if he did, he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to collapse against him — to give in, that easily, to the offered comfort, the sense of security the man's presence brings — or to do something else equally as stupid. Like kiss him. That definitely wasn't a persistent urge in the back of his head.

"You know ... how I feel about you. Don't act like you don't. You don't need me to tell you." Don't make me tell you. "We've gone this long without ... without putting a name to it. Why do you need one now?" Now, when I'm at my lowest, when I can't even track what words are spilling out of my mouth and which ones are staying stuck in my head, when I'm sunk so deep into this pit, this grief — what makes you think it's appropriate? And what is making it so hard for me to tell you to stop?

Shoulders slumped inwards, curling into himself — even throughout their shouting match, he couldn't gather up the energy to heave himself out of his desk chair, not when he felt so weighed down with his mourning that his bones very well could've been made of lead. Letting William loom over him, first from across the desk and now from only a few scant inches away, crowding into his space. Oh, how he wanted to just lean into his grasp, to feel the solid warmth of his body against him — concrete proof that he was still there. Still alive, still breathing ... that he still had him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to. Felt that accepting the comfort, the peace of mind, would be some kind of betrayal to Charlie. His grief, his mourning was all he had left of her. Who was he to let himself get distracted? To let himself find respite from it all, if only for a few moments? Charlie hadn't had anyone there to take care of her, and that was his fault — how could he let William take care of him? He didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve to be saved from this, no matter how hard he wished he could.

"I don't..." A pause. Unsure — words not coming easy to his addled mind. "I don't know what you want from me. I do love you, William. There was never any question of it — and I know you know that. So ... why? Why now, of all times?" Eyes finally lifted, head tilted back to study William's face, the movement only bringing them that much closer. He simply couldn't parse the other man's behavior. Why he'd been pushing so hard for an answer at this very moment was beyond him — it worried him, somewhat. What was he missing, here? If William's goal was to distract him from his turmoil, he'd succeeded — at least for as long as it took for Henry to get past his confusion. He simply didn't have the space to try and wrap his brain around this without pushing other things to the wayside.

you know i’m in love with you, right? HENRY

" you know i'm in love with you , right ? "

[[ oh dear god. okay. here we go (/pos) this was probably not the direction you were expecting it to go but i uh. my brain. it took it and ran ]]

-- [ asked by @trapton ] --

The words froze Henry in place, swirling emotions in his mind coming to a screeching halt before roaring back to life tenfold.

He and William had been arguing for the better part of an hour — over what, Henry couldn't tell you. Mainly because there was no real 'what'. Henry'd just been shut in his office working himself to death for the past sixteen hours because he didn't want to go back home to an empty house and William had found him sobbing at his desk and it had just escalated from there.

He didn't want to fight — didn't have the energy to, what with the lack of sleep and the pounding headache and the gaping hole in his chest — but William had just kept on pushing. Asking him why he was still there. Why he stank of alcohol and sweat and why he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Threatening to forcefully remove him from the premises if he didn't go home willingly.

Henry had thought he would understand, at least a little, having lost a child of his own, but he just didn't seem to get why Henry was so reluctant to return home. Why he didn't want to step back into that big family house that used to be home to him and Charlie and her mother.

It was so quiet there, now. It threatened to drive him mad. There was a reason he wasn't exactly eager to go rushing back. Not when the photos of all three of them still decorated the walls, the mantle. Not when he still couldn't bear to face them long enough to take them down.

The part that William hadn't seemed to get about all of this was the isolation Henry faced. They'd both lost their children, yes, there was no denying that. He knew good and well that William had loved his youngest like an extension of his own body. But he hadn't been left alone to grieve. To wallow in his misery. When he wasn't with Henry at work, he had his wife and remaining kids to return home to. Even if they were in no state to provide comfort, they were still there. He had the sound of family life continuing on in the background to chase away some of the grief. The guilt.

Henry, on the other hand, was the single father of an only child. Charlie was all he had. No close relatives, siblings, cousins — Hell, his reclusivity meant he hadn't even had any friends to turn to besides William.

William Afton, the only person Henry had left in his life. The one who, unbeknownst to him, had orchestrated events for years to guide him to this conclusion. The sole reason he was so reluctant to leave the building — the knowledge that William was still here, somewhere, had been the slightest bit soothing, had been enough to keep Henry from diving too deep into that part of his mind that kept telling him it was his fault. That Charlie would still be alive if he had just been there. If he wasn't always so preoccupied with work. If he'd just spent more time with her, like she'd asked him to.

... The man who wouldn't stop fucking fussing over him. Okay, maybe Henry had snapped at him. So unlike him, he knew that, he knew he would regret every single word coming out of his mouth later, but he was tired and hurting and he'd had enough of William's prying words. Of his insistence upon taking care of him. He didn't want to be taken care of. He wanted to stay shut in his office and drink himself into a stupor and pass out on his desk and wake up the next day and do it all over again until maybe he forgot why everything hurt so much, and William wasn't letting him do that.

"Why do you care so much?" he'd snapped, voice as firm as it could possibly be despite his tears. "I'm a fucking wreck, William. I just lost my fucking kid. She's dead. Because I wasn't there to watch her. 'S my fucking fault. What– what do you care about how I cope with it? 'S not like you were any better." A low blow, he knew that, knew Will didn't deserve it, but he was too far gone to filter himself. "What stake could you possibly have in this? Why won't you just leave me alone?" Because that's all I ever am these days. Alone. Don't leave me alone, I don't want you to leave me alone — just don't make me leave. I can't leave. Can't go home. I need to be here. With you.

Words gone unsaid — at least he hoped they had. The look William gave him after his outburst, though... Was it pity? Concern? Judgement? He feared he'd said more than he should have, until–

"You know I'm in love with you, right?"

Henry's intoxicated brain couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss the man or punch him in the face. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Like, genuinely. Because, well, there was the answer to his question, but ... "That was the worst timing you've ever had for anything in the entire time I've known you. Don't even–" he held up a hand to silence William, the other coming to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Fuck, his head hurt too much for this– "no, no, hush. No. You've actually got to be kidding me. You're an asshole, William. You don't get to use that as — as leverage, or whatever. Not right now. Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you."

Despite his words ... that was something he'd been waiting to hear from William for God knows how long now. The shock had been enough to knock the fight out of him, and now he just felt... Lost. Why wasn't he listening to Will? If Will ... he couldn't even think it, but if he actually cared like that, seeing Henry like this must've been tearing him to shreds. Resisting, refusing his care... He wasn't only hurting himself. He hadn't even been considering the other side of this situation.

"I'm... Sorry. About all this," he eventually muttered, dipping his head. "And we'll... Talk about that. Later. When I'm not... Like this. But I — I still can't go home. You can't make me. I can't be alone right now, Will." It wasn't an outright request — he wasn't bold enough to make one, not when he wasn't even sure what he wanted in the first place — but he hoped William would pick up on it. He needed ... something. Needed Will to stay with him, no matter what. If it was here, or at home, or wherever the hell, he didn't care. He just didn't feel stable enough to let William out of his sight at the moment.

#m | ic: threads ; henry #others | ic: threads ; william afton #interactions ; willry #trapton #cw child death #cw alcohol #[[ replies tag ]]#[[ queued ]]#mmmm this ones kinda messy im not a huge fan of how i wrote . any of it. but whatever i need to post SOMETHING

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kamisathoes · 3 years ago

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,,,catching Kaeya off-guard and getting revenge? 👀 Where halfway through you realize you're not in control again and he's being a edging bastard :c

- Sigh

uh okay i was only going to reply with a little thirst but...

warnings sub ! f ! reader. teasing. reader wears a skirt. edging. orgasm denial. themes of brat taming? overstimulation. pet names.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

⋆ visiting kaeya at work, sitting on his lap and wriggling a little too much.

⋆ licking your lips and staring up at him with those wide doe eyes that made him weak.

⋆ wearing an extra short skirt and bending over to pick something up, ensuring he's staring at the curve of your ass and the pretty panties (or perhaps the lack of) that are on display.

⋆ whatever you chose to do, kaeya would end up flipping the tables back around.

"your teasing is far from being coy, princess. do i need to remind you who's in charge here?"

⋆ the cavalry captain will enjoy usurping his pretty darling. he'll trap you underneath him, play with the hem of your skirt as he leaves a trail of red and purple along your neck. he'll get you completely riled up, begging and whining for him to fuck you.

⋆ kaeya will give in eventually, luring you into the false assumption that you retained your hold on some of the puppet strings of this relationship. he'll entertain you by stuffing your gooey cunt in the ways that made you sing most, cock throbbing against your walls as he ploughed deeper into you. skilled fingers used your puffy clit to his advantage, playing with the sensitive bud to draw you closer to the edge.

⋆ the man could tell you were close by the way your pretty pussy contracted, the knot in your stomach nearing its breaking point. this gave a warning for kaeya to pull out of you, smirk adorning his tanned cheeks as tears of frustration threatened to spill from your eyes. he only teased you for being so needy, reminding you that he was the only one who could make you feel oh so good.

⋆ it didn't matter if you cried, begged, or even threw a tantrum for him - kaeya was a bully. he'll pump his shaft over you, maybe even fucking your thighs if he felt like it. one thing was certain, however: he had no plans on letting you cum until he was ready. it didn't matter if that was tonight, tomorrow, or even next week. it'd take you fully submitting to the captain, confessing that only he could make you gush so hard.

⋆ that was the only circumstance as to when he would finally grant you your release, letting your cunt cream around his cock. your back arched and you reached out for kaeya's touch, trying to pull yourself even closer to him. his tip stayed lodged against your cervix, enjoying the show that you put on for him.

⋆ yet his hips snapped once again, hand playing with your twitching clit. pain danced through your overstimulated core, body still recovering from your release. your whines didn't stop kaeya, using the pleasure to his own advantage.

"i thought you wanted to cum, princess?"

#☏ thena’s got mail !#ʚ 💭 ɞ delivered ( sigh anon )#ღ thena thirsts #˘ᵕ˘ kaeya #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader

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virtual-insanity28 · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Your writings have been coming up for me recently and they are amazing!

I was wondering can I request the fatui Harpenders (sorry not to sure on how to spell it properly) with a reader who try’s hard to be social but often gets panic attacks talking to others? I would love to see how they would act <3

Make sure to eat and have some water <3

S.A.D. Problems…

Harbingers x Reader

Requests: OPEN and gladly taken <3

sorry these are a tad short-

ofc ofc! i feel this struggle ‘cause of my social anxiety, so this was a very relatable and heartwarming request! also, hehe, i’ll try to keep healthy, people of the internetttt…but no promises lmao

Childe

Childe is a major teaser AND goofball. It’s rather difficult to tell him that you’re in a state of shock and panic, but once he gets the hint, he drags you elsewhere to have you calm down.

He doesn’t like to you in pain(outside of his own doing), so your panic attacks make it hard for the both of you. He’ll try to do something, anything, to calm your anxieties. And when those don’t work, he’ll hug you close to him with his chest pressing against your back and his hands wrapped around your own.

He isn’t as knowledgeable as Rosalyne in the field of anxiety(but is definitely better at handling it than the other two), yet he does catch on pretty quickly and is there to help you immediately. After all, he can’t let his girlie get all sad and weak on him~.

—————

Dottore

If Childe was oblivious partly, then Dottore definitely would be. It’s not even that he doesn’t get what’s going on with you. It’s more so the fact that he doesn’t care.

Sir Il Dottore isn’t a man, a creature no less, who finds pity in things that suffer. Rather, he finds it pleasing to his sadistic personality. Although, if it is you who finds yourself struggle in the center of a crowd, he tries to convince himself that you need help. He watches you struggle with amusement spreading his lips, yet when enough is enough, he stops and finds you a suitable place to reside.

His psychotic tendencies do get in the way for the first half your own panic attacks, but he makes sure that you are safe once alone. He distances himself to give you space, and if you want you, he does hesitate to hug you but does so per request nonetheless.

—————

Scaramouche

He is literally the least helpful person(…puppet?) on the planet. He laughs at you when you first encounter another panic attack. You say your chest hurts? He says “suck it up”. You hold your head to soothe your headache? He flicks it and tell you to keep your morals high, not weakly low.

He does not understand why you say and feel all of these things when confronting people in public. He doesn’t have social anxiety, nor has he ever heard of it, so why does it effect him so greatly seeing you in pain?

When you two finally reach a secluded area(completely because of you stumbling off) Scaramouche has the audacity to tell you to stop your panicking and act normal. Yeah, life with this Harbinger is nowhere near easy. Every day is a challenge. You just need to remember that he is a puppet who knows only baby-steps of the world; he must be taught new things with patience and not violence. If not, then your relationship would not work at all.

—————

La Signora

Archons, no wonder why Rosalyne is the only “adult” one of the group. She is the only one who knows what happens to you in social situations. She knows you like the back of her glove. She is legit the only one who acts the most normal during your panic attacks.

The slightest taste of discomfort for you, and she’s already dragging you back home to relax. She may be bratty at times, yet that all stops the second she notices you tense while conversing with another. In spite of being most understanding, she is the most overprotective of you(even more than Childe by a small sliver).

She has to teach the three guys how to properly help you while also making sure they don’t spook you. Otherwise, if anyone does, they’re already burnt to a crisps or frozen like an ice cube. Overall, Rosalyne is literally your guardian angel. She keeps you safe and calms you down while you breath hard, gives you anything that she knows helps you, and stays by your side with a soothing and motherly voice to ease you from your anxieties(while giving a death glare at those who caused you your panic attack-).

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elenamegan14 · 4 years ago

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Yandere!One Piece vs Tough F!Reader

Yeah, we get it. We saw those “sweet, innocent” readers so much getting captured by their yanderes, but can you imagine how this would work with a tough-as-nails reader?

I am talking about a reasonable, no-nonsense and “I literally just send ten people to hospital for intruding my private space” reader who give no fucks - you don’t like how scarily violent and stalkerish tendencies they got and you bet your sweet bippy that you will fight tooth and nail to escape them.

I mean, duh! They’re pirates! Docile, cute admirers are okay, but they like feisty, hard-to-get people that just as challenging as getting One Piece. After all, pirates loves the thrill of chasing after difficult “treasures”.

And like that treasure, you are REALLY difficult to claim.

Imagine slowly raising a gun to the temple of a lovesick Eustass Kid who trapped you inside hundreds of metal weapons, kabedon style. He doesn’t care, even your insults and threats hurled at him sounds like one hell of a metal music. He loves a feisty prey and he will not let go of you.

Imagine actually calling the freaking MARINES while you were binded under Luffy’s rubberhose of an arms. He’s not willing to let you go and he will drag your unconcious body back to Thousand Sunny if he had to. Look, the scary thing about Luffy is that once he set eyes on someone to be his “nakama”, he will pursue them no matter how you are hurting him with a seastone brass knuckles that you have miraculously found on the ground.

Imagine angrily yelling at Sanji to please let go of your leg AND your hips, even after you hit him multiple times and he still gets up, Terminator-style. Sanji’s eyes are still heart-shaped as he kept saying how he will devote himself to you and shish-kabob anyone who goes near you and by the way, he saw how good you are with that lace bra last night- the latter just earned him with a boot to the face.

Imagine trying to resist every last fiber of your body from Doflamingo’s puppet strings as he beckoned you to sit on his lap like a good doll you are. You don’t care - you can slit his throat and he will still drag you with his strings if he has to. Never has Doflamingo encountered a fiery, tough individual and he sure as hell would not give it up.

Imagine crawling away from Charlotte Smoothie and Charlotte Katakuri with nothing but daggers as both of them stampede towards you, intending to make you a part of their family. They already got permission from “Mama”, plus they are both single and horny for this strong person who actually and actively tried to get away from them...

Imagine getting into an epic swordfight with Zoro, your blade and his three powerful swords clashing, all for the possession of your freedom. Zoro might have not held any sexual attraction, but once he saw the warrior spirit in your eyes and how you really are serious about killing him, that’s when Zoro knew he had found his soulmate. He’s after a tough soldier like you and he WILL have you at all cost.

Imagine Ace just literally pinned you down to the bed, the closest any of them ever had, peppering kisses upon your neck and shoulder as you kept biting like a hyena on his arms, leaving deep, bloodied teeth marks. Ace just laughs - those marks can be his victorious reminder that you have left behind for him. After all, he did burn those goons near you to crisp right in front of your freaked out face, right?

Imagine running and shooting at Black Maria and her cronies as you wandered straight into her brothel room. Black Maria easily overpowered you with her devil fruit - she is a spider who finds her prey and as she picks up you, whoare trashing around wildly and demanding to be released at once, she knew that you’ll be her favorite.

Imagine kicking Sir Crocodile into a well as you gained the upperhand in public as bystanders watched in horror. But Crocodile is not intimidated nor he is fully angry - how dare this upstart not only bold enough to challenge him but also stole his already shrunken heart as well? As you kept trying to drown him (”WHY WON’T YOU DIE?!”), Sir Crocodile just make all the water dry, laughing at your pathetic attempt to do so.

And lastly...

Imagine getting strapped into Law’s operation room, the guy smiling at you menancingly as you tried to keep your composure strait. He is sin incarnate, unwilling to take any nonsense. Yet, here you are, a very challenging patient that gnashes around him, promising that he will live a thousand deaths while Law smirked to himself that he will definitely going to have LOTS of fun playing doctor with you...

---

If anyone has a request for this sort of scenario with other One Piece character or you want me to make a small one-shot of this, please let me know in asks or comments!

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece headcanon #yandere one piece #eustass kid #trafalgar law #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #donquixote doflamingo #yandere #Charlotte Smoothie #Charlotte Katakuri #portgas d. ace #Roronoa Zoro #Black Maria #Sir Crocodile

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lilxberry · 3 years ago

Text

I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.

Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)

Words: 3,123

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)

(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)

(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)

< Chapter 5 Chapter 7 >

_______________

Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.

“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”

The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.

“How are you here?”

The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”

Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”

Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”

His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”

The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”

Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)

Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.

“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”

His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.

“You’re stuck here.”

Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.

Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.

She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.

“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”

Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.

“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”

Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.

‘Help me.’

Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.

Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.

_______________

The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.

With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.

4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.

They couldn’t argue with him on that.

“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”

Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”

“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.

“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.

“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”

“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”

“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.

“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”

The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.

“Let’s move.”

_______________

“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”

The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.

They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”

“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”

Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.

“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”

Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.

“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.

Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.

The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”

Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.

The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.

Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.

A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.

This is what they’ve been chasing.

With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.

Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.

He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.

Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.

“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)

You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.

Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.

You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.

Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.

The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.

“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.

“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”

The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.

Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.

You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.

Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)

She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.

You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.

You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.

Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”

You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.

“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.

“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.

Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.

“Nothing here.”

“Nope.”

“No clue.”

“Nada.”

“Zilch.”

The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?

“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”

“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.

Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”

Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”

_______________

“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)

“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)

“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)

“Verstanden.” (Understood.)

_______________

THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO

I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being

If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual @iwazoomingouttahere @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

_______________

‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:

@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz

(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)

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technowoah · 4 years ago

Text

Forever Was a Long Time Ago

Where you and Clay find yourselves caught up in someone elses lies.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- FEM READER!

Prompts!

4) "I never fucking wanted this/that!"

16) "Stop bringing it up"

⚠︎ toxic relationship, swearing, mentions of sex (?), and horrible writing. I didn't proofread either

It was hard to not talk to him, but that was your decision at the moment. You didnt even tell him what was the matter, and you refused to until you found out your real feelings about where you lie. Right now you were mad, fuming, of course you were refusing to talk to him because he dosen't talk to you.

The reason why the distance between you and Clay grew further and further apart was that a stupid tweet from this girl. He knew what he wae doing too, it was like him to do this behind the scenes. It was a tweet that showed him at a dinner table with another person other than you across the table from him. At least they had the decency to exclude his face from the frame, but the hands, and clothes were something you were all used to. The tweet continued on and on, and you believed every word.

He knew what he was doing. He did this often, because jealousy was a big thing in your relationship. You can admit it isnt all just him too, it was a possesive relationship. It wasn't healthy at all and you knew it. Your friends and family knew too, but you two always found yourself in his arms.

Clay liked to toy with you, but this was taking it too far. You ended up messaging the creator of the tweet and they said that everything was true and they went into extreme detail too. They even brought up screenshots of messages that you would deem fake. If it wasn't for your rage right, you would've debunked that right away.

Wallowing in your anger was a common thing for both of you in the relationship. The first time this happend was at a small party Clay invited you to. He ended up flirting and paying all of his attention to another person just to get you jealous. It started off innocent to make something more out of nothing, but became worse with time. You started to do the same to him and vice versa, it became a habit more than a thing to make eachother horny for a night.

The jealousy thing became more of a guilty pleasure, and the guilty pleasure became cheating. For you two it was okay because you two were going back to eachother, it was okay until now. Now a person was rubbing it in your face, usually it was a quick night without eachother, ignoring one another for a week and then getting back together until the cycle completes again.

It was emotionally tiring but you couldn't break out of it, maybe this was a sign to stop.

Today marks a week and a half with no contact with Clay. You had locked yourself up in your home today, you couldn't bother to do anything productive today. It was just one of those days, and it was a day where you wondered if Clay would text or call you. You shamelessly watched his livestreams, you missed his voice, his touch, his whole being. You wondered if his friends were saying the same stuff about you your friends were saying about him.

You were a puppet. You fell everytime his hands weren't pulling the strings and right now you wouldn't be under his control. You refused this time.

Speaking of the devil, your phone chimed signaling that you have received a message. You had opened it and it was one of many extremely vauge texts from Clay.

( Clay )

Im coming over now

[read]

Not bothering to text back, you continued to pay attention to something else. You were ready to confrony him and put an end to this.

It was a few minuted before you heard the lock on your door being unlocked and a voice calling for you.

"You home?!"

"In the living room!"

He reached the living room and sat in a smaller chair to your right. You two sat in silence until you worked up to courage to speak.

"Why are you here?" You asked him breaking the silence.

"Why did you let me in here?" Clay retorted.

"I mean, it's not like you just invited yourself in. You had to have something to say."

"Not necessarily, can I just visit my girl?" Clay leaned back into his seat.

"Yeah you can, but I wouldn't consider myself your girlfriend." You sat up and croseed your arms. Your phone was to your side waiting to show him the evidence.

"Really? What is this, the 5th time you've said that?" Clay rolled his eyes in response.

"You've done the same thing more time than I could count. You have no right to talk."

"I have absolutely every right." Clay smirked. He knew he was getting under your skin.

"So, Why did you go out with that girl?" You asked bluntly.

"Why wouldn't I? I mean it isnt a big deal we're here now."

"To me it is a big deal!"

"It never fucking was before when you were seeing another guy!" Clay yelled sitting up.

"I never fucking wanted this?! I never wanted to see you with a different guy, but here we are!"

"I didn't fucking start this whole cheating rabbit hole thing!" You flared your arms.

"What I saw was that you were talking with that girl for a while! It was months."

"What?!"

You had brought out your phone and pulled up the messages and extended your arm to give him your phone to read. He had taken the phone out of your hand with a confused face on his face. You waited while he scrolled through text messages while an emotion you couldn't read was on his face.

"Would you be mad if I said it was all true?" Clay had this look of caution on his face.

"YES! I fucking would!" You exclaimed in disbelief.

"I still dont know why?"

You stood up wanting to let off some steam. "This is what we do! Dont you see?! We keep going in circles. I go out with a man, and you get mad. You go out with a girl and I get mad, we come back together, but a whole month?!"

"Does it matter?!" Clay stood up too.

"Yes!"

"Remember when-"

"No! We're talking about YOU right now and how this little fling started a month ago. If you loved her that much stay!"

"Remember when you spent two nights over that boys house and-"

"Stop bringing it up!" You interrupted him.

"Then you stop trying to act like you're a saint!"

Pausing for a moment you wanted to get out of this situation. Clearly this argument wasn't getting anywhere or heading to the right place, your body temperature was hot, you needed to clear your head.

You tried walking away, but Clay held you there. "I dont "love" her I never-!"

"You stayed consistent with her more than me!"

"Stop acting like you're such a angel! Acting like you haven't dont the same too!"

"Not for that long! Get that through your head!" You tried walking away again, but he had a grip on you wrist.

You glared at him, staring right into his eyes, his grip getting slightly tighter wanting to make you stay.

"Let me go."

He froze at that and stood still. After sll this time of you two being together, you have never said those words. They had multiple meanings at this moments. One being "let me go physically" and the other being "let me go so I can move on." You had meant both.

"You mean it?"

"What do you think I mean?" You asked, his grip on your wrist stayed there as you awaited his answer.

He paused for a moment and then he started to speak. "You want to leave this relationship. That's what I believe."

"Well. You are right. Clay I'm tired. You know that!"

His grip on your wrist loosened. He was giving you an opening to leave and you took it. You took that opening and when your hand left his you two were done with eachother. The confrontation was quick, it usually was like this, today you just wanted it to be over. You grabbed your keys and a coat from the coat rack needing some fresh air

"You need to leave my house by the time I get back. Okay?" You turned around to see Clay in the same spot you left him in. He nodded and you slipped on your shoes and left the house for the night.

The windows of your car were rolled down as you rode through the streets not having a destination in mind. It was clear to you, a weight lifted from your shoulders and a new opening was near, but you couldn't see it yet.

You could breathe now, nothing else mattered. You had stopped at a red light and you phone continued to light up. There was not that many drivers on the road at this hour, so you opened the phone to a string of messages.

( Clay )

She lied

I was trying to tell you, but you lashed out, but I understand

I'll focus on you I promise. I wont break promises anymore.

Come back

[read]

You sighed looking at the messages and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had found a place to turn your car around and drive back to your house where he was waiting for you against your wishes.

The circle was completed once more.

#mcyt blurb #dream x reader #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #dream x y/n #dream angst #dream blurb #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dream smp x reader #mcyt requests #requested

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haxorus-imp · 3 years ago

Note

I’m new at this sort of thing but I was hoping to request some kind of Newton x reader except Newton is a really big fan of sfw physical affection (hand holding, hugging, kissing, etc) and they are spending time together and Newton simply cannot get enough. If not for any reason it’s alright, and I appreciate you not only taking the time to read this but also write super awesome stuff :D

I actually think this would fit his character, tbh! Newton gives me a really 'lonely child' vibe. Like, he lives in a big creepy home with a deemed 'crazy' mother. All alone. So he would love some affections from someone that isn't his doting mother. Great ask! -- Newton couldn't really imagine how he managed to find you in all of Bunkum. You, out of all sack people. How he managed to find someone so...tolerant, understanding, patient, and kind...he'll never know. He was probably just lucky if he could make a guess. Nothing in the imagisphere could compare to you....and he had you all to himself. Something that he would never ever take for granted. Even now, as you both lay on the grass in the fields of Needlepoint Peaks, he nuzzles into your fabric. Nearing a complete sense of total bliss as you stroke his bulb with such a gentle caress. Containing your giggles as he wraps his arms around you to draw you in closer. How did it all begin? Well after the Titan Incident, Newton was pretty much on clean up duty and had to reforge the shattered bond between him and Bunkum. Which was a tall order at the time, as a lot of negative press was generated about him during that time. Which made working with others...much harder than usual. Then, while he was cleaning up some of his mess with his family and accomplices...among the volunteers, a peculiar sackperson caught his eye. There in the crowd was a...unique and rather dashing sack person. They were helping sweep up debris and rebuild some broken structures some ways away from him. At that moment, time had stopped for Newton. He just...froze in place as he watched you work. The way you moved...the way your hair fell...the sweat you would wipe off your hard working body... Newton was stunned. He was only snapped out of his frozen state when his father got onto him for 'slacking'. But for the rest of the day, he couldn't help but take repeated peeks at you. Trying to subtly find out just...who that sack person he saw was. Back then, you were as cautious as everyone else in Bunkum. Newton knew that the ire and caution of the residents of Bunkum being directed to him was just-deserved...he did try and destroy them, after all. Well...his possessed self did. But in the eyes of everyone else, they were the same person. Which didn't bode well for Newton most of the time. But that didn't stop him from trying to get close to you or to find out something about you. But with a couple of clumsy run-ins, failed attempts to impress you, and a couple of accidental...well...accidents, you finally started to tolerate Newton enough to challenge those that still saw him as a titan-puppet. Eventually...Newton made a friend. A genuine friend. Someone that vouched for him, spoke up for him, and listened to him and his side of the titan story. It was...such an amazing feeling to finally be HEARD. To be seen as something other than a troublemaking failure of an inventor. You both stayed close, even when most of the repairs of Bunkum were finished. During those times, you were invited over to Stitchem Manor so many times than Newton could count...and you showed up every single time. You never left him hanging or out of the loop. You included him in your personal events and even encouraged him to keep pursuing his dreams despite all the drawbacks. You were both a balancer and an encourager. You were his rock and his sky. You were always there when he needed somebody to vent to and you listened to all of his woes. His worries. His insecurities. His traumas. His self hatred. You listened to it all and comforted him every time he collapsed in on himself. You were always there to pick him up. You were the support he needed for so long. Pretty soon...Newton realized that just being friends wasn't enough. It didn't take a clever inventor to find out if someone is in love...and Newton got it...BAD. He was practically lovesick and couldn't stop thinking about you for even a minute. He wanted to confess...but he didn't want to ruin what you had between you two. He struggled with internal

conflicts for a while. Arguing with himself about your position in his personal life. But the days dragged on and the strength of his love grew ever stronger. Newton eventually started to struggle with CONTAINING his emotions, as they would leak out from time to time. This would range from mere compliments to giving you random gifts of things he knew you liked. Finally, you pretty much caught onto his shifty behavior and Newton finally exploded into a word-confessing waterfall. Admitting everything that he was feeling. All the warmth in his chest, the fuzzy internal feelings, the butterflies in his belly, and the thoughts of you plaguing his mind. He finished his bout with a verbal expression of his desire to become more than just friends. Newton couldn't really face you while he practically vomited out his confession in a slew of rushed words. He didn't want to look at you to see your reaction, if he was to face rejection now, he would probably break into tiny pieces. Like fragile glass. He kept his gaze low to the ground. Hiding his eyes underneath his egg-timer bowler hat. He expected everything. Rejection. Laughter. An awkward cough...just anything! Yet, something different and not quite as expected came his way. Instead of a roar of laughter, uncomfortable silence, or even a unimpressed huff, Newton felt your knitted hand reach out and touch the side of his bulb. Then a slight force of that hand pulled his sagging head up. Shortly after that, he senses a soft feeling of something pressing against his bulb-like face. Newton quickly refocuses his attention back onto you, now processing what was happening. You were giving him a kiss... YOU WERE GIVING HIM A KISS!? Newton allowed his eyes to widen in surprise as you pull back to look into his brightened optics. You let out a low cheeky chuckle before leaning in again and pressing your knitted lips to his wire. Giving him his first ever legitimate kiss. Newton felt sparks fly and his heartrate rapidly increased. Then...there was pure euphoria. Newton Pud, the once touch-starved inventor wannabe...was being kissed by the sackperson he adored...something went right for him for once. He melted into the kiss. Despite his lack of lips, Newton allowed the warmth of his light to mix in with the presence of your lips. As if he was giving you a ghost of a kiss in his own way. Those butterflies in his stomach took flight and lifted him into an imaginary sky...and Newton never felt so high. It was...amazing. Breathtaking. Pure euphoria. It was all he ever wanted...and it was all he ever needed. He just wanted to be loved. Newton pretty much fell totally in love with you after that. Any chance he got to take your hand or to give you a hug or a kiss...he took it, greedily. It was like bodily contact was a personal drug that he couldn't get enough of. Eventually, you both had hooked up and regardless of what others thought, you stayed with him. Making sure to keep him within arms reach and to stay in one another's' presence while out in public. His parents were happy for Newton. Finally, he had a reliable person to go to and help watch over him. There was also the offhand comment from Nana Pud about grandchildren, but Newton always ushered him and his lover out of the room while his father laughs at their expense. Regardless of the slight embarrassing comments, you and Newton decided to make a new life together. With most of the clean up of Bumkum done, regular cuddle sessions are a must between you two. Even now that you both have been together for a few weeks, Newton still loves and adores to be held and comforted. Just like what you two were doing right now in the present day. With him resting on your lap and you softly petting his bulb and allowing him to cuddle with you as much as he wanted. In the end, Newton was happy and he couldn't ask for a better partner to look after him and be by his side. Besides. Who needs the popit academy to create something? You both created something wonderful together...and the best part? Neither of you had to share this wonderful thing with anyone else.

#LBP #LBP3 #LBP Newton Pud #LBP Newton #Newton Pud #Newton x Reader #haxorus imp #anon ask #reader insert #Little Big Planet #IT'S SO FLUFFY

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feralthoughtdump · 3 years ago

Text

The Kind of Love I’ve Been Dreaming Of

Based on the music video for Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier

CW: smut, a little bit of playing with fire, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (remember, always wear protection, Loki being a little bit manipulative???

Word Count: 2.3k

It was common knowledge that cats enjoyed playing with their food before they eat and right now, it was clear that Loki was the cat, and she… well, she was the food.

To an outsider, maybe someone who knew little about Loki and the girl seated across from him, the scene was set like a fancy dinner date.

And in a way, it was. The tables were set with an array of dishes. Gold goblets filled with wine, and candles illuminated the room in a warm glow.

She looks regal in the emerald green gown. The elaborate gold embroidery glitters under the candlelight and the long bell sleeves drape elegantly against her forearms.

Loki’s quite proud of himself for choosing that gown. It was exquisite, truly a stunning piece.

It was a picture-perfect romantic dinner.

But of course, because Loki was well… Loki, he wanted to have some fun beforehand. He wanted to play a little game.

The rules were simple. If the match hits him, she wins.

And so far, she was far from winning.

So needless to say, a grin was stretched wide across his face as he stares at her brows furrow in frustration.

“This is impossible.” She huffs, flicking the match against the box.

The little flame flickers and disappears as the match lands a foot away from him.

“No,” He chuckles. “You just aren’t doing it right.”

She crosses her arms and stares daggers into him.

“Then why don’t you give me a hint?”

“You know I can’t do that.”

She scoffs.

“Why not?”

He raises his arms.

“Well, that’ll take the fun out of it!”

There’s a pang of slight annoyance in her tone.

“It’ll take the fun out of it for you. As of this moment, I’m not having any fun.”

It was such a simple game yet it was difficult. And the long, heavy sleeves of her gown do little to help.

She sets the box of matches on the table.

“You said if I hit you with the match, I’ll win. What exactly am I winning?”

He leans forward, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“That’s for you to find out. After you win.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs.

“How am I supposed to claim my prize if I’m playing a game I can’t win? You know what? I’m not playing anymore. I don’t care about the prize.”

As she gets up, she feels invisible hands tug her back into the chair.

“Now, now, pet,” his voice is silvery, “don’t go running off now.”

“Loki,” her eyes widen as her fingers dance along the edge of the table “stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He chuckles, sitting still in his seat.

It was like she was a puppet. Twisting and contorting her body into some strange dance.

“Yes, you are!”

Her back arches against the table and her eyes meet Loki’s. He stares down at her with mischief in his eyes.

For a brief moment, his gaze and the low timbre of his voice ignited a fire within her abdomen. But it’s quickly dashed with a flick of his hand.

She’s sent back into her chair, head nearly slamming into the wood.

“Gods,” She groans. “I hate it when you do that.”

Loki laughs.

“Then stay seated and keep playing.”

“I told you, I’m done playing.”

“Oh, pet, you give up so easily, even when you’re playing a simple game.”

She scowls. The whole “game” was bordering on pure irritation for her.

“It’s not that simple when it’s near impossible to flick-“

She’s been playing it all wrong.

Loki had said that as long as the match hits him, she wins. However, he never said how the match had to hit him. Flicking the match was never a requirement.

She had simply assumed that she was supposed to flick the match at him.

So with a quick hand, she ignites the match and simply tosses it at him.

Her skin glows gold as the figure burns in front of her, engulfed in flames.

“Congratulations.” His voice rings from behind her. “You’ve won.”

The figure dissolves, revealing that his seat was empty the whole time.

Sneaky bastard.

Her head whips around, eyes landing on the god.

“So I wasn’t even playing with the real Loki?”

His long legs stride towards her, footsteps echoing through the room.

“Do you think I would sit there and let you throw matches at me?” He places a finger under her chin, tilting her head to look at him.

“I guess not.”

He walks around the table and sits in the empty chair. He beckons her with a crook of his finger.

She’s about to stand when Loki shakes his head.

“There’s a space between us. Crawl.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Are you being serious?”

“I am. Now, crawl.”

She slowly shifts, placing a knee on the table. Before she can say anything else, she feels her limbs move. His invisible strings manipulate her body and pull her towards him.

She doesn’t fight it. Sure, it scared her, him taking control over her body, but at the same time, it excited her.

When she reaches him, he places a firm hand on her back, helping her into his lap, thighs straddling his.

“Now, it’s time for you to claim your prize.”

His fingers move the dark silk around her thighs, letting the fabric bunch around her hips and exposing her bare cunt to the cool air.

She noses at his jaw, placing a kiss next to his ear. Her lips trail kisses down his cheekbone and to his lips.

“But we haven’t eaten yet.” She murmurs. “And those strawberries look really fresh.”

He captures her lips with fervor.

“You’re right, but there’s something else I want to-“

She places her arms on his shoulders and pushes back. “I want to eat at least something.” She bats her eyelashes at him. “Please?”

Loki gives her a sugary grin. “Alright, my love.”

The strawberry he brings to her lips is sweet. As the juice dribbles past her lower lip, he gently wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

She parts her lips and uses her tongue to draw his thumb into her mouth.

“You are insatiable,” He chuckles, pushing his thumb deeper into her mouth.

She sucks on the digit, lapping at the last of the juice. A burning desire swims through her veins, replacing her appetite for food with something more lustful.

His thumb is pulled from her lips with a pop and she can feel Loki stiffen underneath her.

She slowly grinds herself down on his clothed erection. The leather of his pants feels good against her cunt, making her wetter than she already is.

A needy gasp leaves her lips when he bites her neck, sucking a dark mark right above her collarbone.

It was a sign of ownership. A sign that she was his.

“Now,” he skims his teeth against the sensitive skin, making her yelp. “All of Asgard will know you’re mine.”

There’s a gentle tug on her hair and she tilts her head back. Loki takes this as an opportunity to let his saliva fall into her open mouth. She swallows it with blissed-out eyes and a grin on her face.

“Look at you.” He moves his hand to caress the length of her neck. “So pretty. So perfect.”

She hums, head thrown back, reveling in his soft touch.

“You flatter me.”

He playfully nips at her collarbone, smiling at her sweet giggle.

“It’s not flattery if what I’m saying is true.”

She pulls herself closer to him and presses her lips to his.

It’s ravenous, hungry, and fiery with clashing teeth and bitten lips.

“Loki” she pants, “I need you. I need you now.”

With desperate hands, they work in tandem to pull his leather pants past his hips.

She reaches down to wrap her fingers around his cock, feeling it stiffen in her hand.

He hisses when she runs her finger over the tip.

Loki runs his palm up her thigh, fingers ghosting over her core.

She squirms in his lap as he pushes a finger past her folds.

“Stay still.” He murmurs. “Keep stroking my cock.”

She gulps and pumps her hand up and down, drawing groans from his mouth.

Loki pushes another finger inside of her, releasing a whimper from her.

He pauses, eyes widening slightly with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” He gently asks.

“No.” She gasps. “It feels good. Keep going.”

Loki grins and crooks his fingers upward.

“Look at that.” His other hand reaches behind her head, forcing her to look down at his fingers. “So wet already.”

He removes his fingers from inside of her and places a firm hold on her hips, her pussy hovering over his hard cock.

A whine slips past her lips as she lowers herself onto him.

The stretch burns and tears prick at her eyes.

“Come on, love.” He rubs his thumb against her jugular. “I know you can take it.”

A loud gasp leaves her lips as he pulls her down, spearing her onto his cock.

She grabs onto the golden horns of his helmet so she doesn’t fall, knuckles slowly turning white.

Slowly, she lifts herself using his helmet for support and lowers herself back down.

“You like the horns, don’t you, pet?” He teases.

She gives him a desperate whine and is met with a tightened grip on her throat.

“I want a verbal answer, darling.” He seethes.

“Yes.” She whines. “I like the horns.”

He releases his hold on her neck and sits back, watching her pull herself up and sink back down.

Every thrust of his hips sends shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through her body, and she can feel herself wanting more. More of him. She wanted to be closer.

A hand releases its grip from the helmet, grabbing onto the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. They pant into each other’s mouths through bitten lips and needy whines and gasps.

His grip on her tightens as he cums, throwing his head back and groaning. It brings her closer to the edge, but the feeling of his warm cum painting her walls wasn’t enough to bring her to an orgasm.

But Loki is far from finished. He pulls out and she whines, desperation coursing through her veins.

She’s left shaking, face flushed, and chest heaving as his cum trickles down her thighs.

His eyes light up in a way that only means one thing: he has an idea.

Excitement and dread fill her mind. What sick and twisted idea did he have in mind? To edge her to the point of tears, or to make her cum over and over again until her brain was mush?

She watches with bitten lips and wide eyes as he stands, leaving her in the chair.

“Loki, what-“

“Hush, my love.” He slowly takes his helmet off and places it atop her head. “Beautiful.”

He sinks to his knees, large hands spreading her thighs. A groan leaves his lips at the sight.

“Loki-“

Her words are cut off when he licks a stripe up her folds. He grabs her thighs, the pads of his fingers digging into her skin, and pulls her towards him. Her knees are placed on his shoulders, allowing him to dive deeper.

From the view between her thighs, Loki thinks she’s beautiful, especially with his helmet. He’ll have to find one for her afterward.

She’s divine, someone meant to sit on a throne. Someone meant to be queen. His queen.

He’s always discussed the day of his coronation to her, picturing how people will kneel before him. But for her, he’d kneel for her any day of the week.

“Gods,” he murmurs against her thigh, “you’d look good on a throne.”

“Uh-huh.” she gasps, ignoring his words. “please, just shut up and stop teasing.”

Loki hums against her pussy.

“Of course, your majesty.”

A loud moan reverberates through the room as he continues licking into her, soaking his face with her wetness and his cum.

“Fuck!” She gasps, threading her fingers through his hair.

At this very moment, as he is drawing desperate sobs from her throat, he decides that he will make her queen.

When he ascends to the throne, he’ll make sure there is one for her, all grand and gold.

One of her hands grips onto one of the armrests and the other works its way into his hair, pulling his face closer to her. He deepens his ministrations and she lets out a strangled moan, pleasure coursing through her body.

The intricate beading on her sleeves scratches at his face but he pays no mind to that. All he can focus on is how sweet she tasted against his tongue. Like the bowl of strawberries left abandoned on the dining table.

She throws her head back, the heavy headpiece sliding down her forehead, obscuring her vision. Her hand quickly adjusts it so she can continue to admire the view from above.

The prince has his eyes closed, cheeks, still flushed from his orgasm, pressed against her soft thighs.

The sight sends her falling over the edge. She cums with gaspy breaths and loud moans. It’s music to his ears.

As he stands from his position between her legs, she looks up at him with lust-glazed eyes.

He bends over to grab her chin, pulling her in for another kiss, the taste of her orgasm fresh on her tongue.

“Bless that silver tongue of yours.” She grins.

“You are the one who blessed it.” He gives her a cheeky smile, swooping her into his arms.

“Don’t be vulgar.” She wraps her arms around his neck as he sits back in his chair. “Plus, I believe we still have to eat dinner.”

He laughs and presses a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Oh, darling, I’ve already eaten.”

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson

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