#hallucinations lol hmm
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d1anna · 1 month ago
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it’s so weird every time i wake up from a deep nap or sleep i always see spiders crawling around me
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flaresanimedump · 2 years ago
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I keep seeing fanart that gives me Ideas. What would be Ranpo's trauma if Q used their power on him. His parents dying? Fukuzawa dying? Fukuzawa hating him??
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yunhoex · 5 months ago
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rowdy — smg (m.)
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pairing ⇢ mingi x reader
summary ⇢ surprising Mingi with a visit on his birthday might just be the highlight of your vacation.
genre/au ⇢ smut, idk what they are lol
rating & word count ⇢ 18+ | 1.7k
warnings ⇢ making out, cowgirl (obvs), groping, fellatio, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy tendencies?, spanking, breast play
a/n: happiest 25th to the menace of my life 😩 i can’t believe he’s my first post here when he’s not my bias like fawk i saw him yesterday irl so nice to meet y’all ;)
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birthdays are Mingi’s thing, not yours.
so he thought he was hallucinating when he sees you standing by the door, a huge smile on your face and open arms dangling with gifts.
“hi!”
you ran up to him, hugging him after which he reciprocated with a tighter one. he only released you after realizing you’re really here with him on his special day.
“you flew all the way here for this?” he wonders as he approaches a nearby chair to sit down. he removes his sunglasses as he waits for you to place the fancy paper bags on the carpeted floor.
you follow Mingi as soon as you're done, sitting on his lap and his hands wrapped around your waist like second nature.
“no, i was visiting someone nearby” you reply nonchalantly, placing your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing them lightly as you position yourself comfortably on his lap.
“who?” his hands pause from caressing your sides, eyes averting as his hand slithers down and palms your bare thigh.
he's debating if he wants to know or not. finally looking up at you, he raises one brow and you mimic him.
“does it even matter? i’m here to celebrate your birthday” you dismiss his question, removing his cowboy hat before leaving a peck on the lips. you’d hope Mingi would let it go but his hand comes up to cup your jaw, returning your lips to his.
he bites your lower lip, coaxing you to let him in so you do. you never really kiss him like this but there seems to be an urgency with how his lips are capturing yours right now.
the questions start lingering in your mind but it’s his day so you’re gonna let him do whatever he wants.
“mhmm so how are we gonna celebrate?” he asks gruffly, his lips moving down the column of your neck, teeth busy nipping your skin while his hands are touching you everywhere.
you tend not to care about this type of thing so Mingi admits he's a little touched that you decided to visit him. though a part of him wonders who you could be visiting, he didn't dare press on in case your mood changes.
you’re quite rowdy, but he loves that about you regardless.
maybe Mingi's just overthinking because you could really be visiting a friend or a family member. why is he worried anyways? his getting anxious over this "what if it's someone else?" question and it's starting to bother him more than it should.
no matter, Mingi will just prove to you that he's better and that he's the best part of your visit here.
"how do you want me to?" you tease, giggling when his hot breath tickles your skin.
"you're here to surprise me right?" he counters, his husky voice now deeper than it usually is, sending tingles down to your pulsating core.
seeing him in that black fitted shirt and cowboy hat made you wet as soon as you arrived.
"well, you're already wearing my fave.." you ignore his remark, choosing to play with him a little bit more. this Mingi’s quite rare since he usually takes the reins. you’re taking advantage of the upper hand through this surprise.
his reaction earlier was undeniably clear so he couldn't possibly chosen this fit because you're coming.
“which one? i have most of them”
your breath hitches when his fingers switch to play on the tassels of your tube leather top. it’s a mere habit of his, unconsciously poking anything that attracts his eye and it’s affecting you a lot.
or maybe it’s cause you missed him a bit.
“hmm, this one” you give him a faux innocent smile, grabbing his belt and Mingi tries to suppress his excitement as he watches you unbuckling his pants.
you got off his lap so Mingi could pull down his denim pants and boxers, just enough to release his already swollen cock. it springs up towards his black shirt and you're salivating, kneeling between his legs at once to take it in your mouth.
“shiit, i miss your mouth baby” he groans, one hand coming down to grab your head. you hollow your cheeks, pushing your head deeper until his tip reaches the back of your throat. it had Mingi unconsciously bucking his hips, wanting for more.
you wanted to suck him off longer but you're honestly desperate to have his dick in your pussy.  you're enjoying your view, eyes fixed on Mingi struggling even though you're in the same boat. his breath heavies, a sign that he's close and usually you'd swallow but you have different plans for him tonight.
releasing him, you got up from your knees and shimmied your denim skirt and undies before returning to his lap.
"w-wait, already?" he responded hoarsely, mind too fogged to process what’s going on with his nearing climax. he’s not even gonna complain that you just edged him. he secretly likes it and he's sure you know how much he does at this point.
"yeah, can't wait anymore" you whine impatiently in Mingi's ear which causes a shiver through his spine. he's dazed, he always is each time he hears your seductive voice. he can’t even respond properly until he feels your wet pussy walls envelop him.
“fuck, you’re amazing” he breathes out before hurriedly pulling down your top. it took him a while due to it being tight on your body so you ended up chuckling, finding him cute.
you'd expect Mingi to curse in frustration but he latches his mouth on your breasts, turning your laughter into a series of breathy moans.
“mingi..” you clutch his shoulders as you begin rolling your hips. it's a struggle when he constantly kneads your tits with his large hands, tweaking the nipple that's not under his tongue. when he's somehow satisfied, he releases them and leans back at the chair, moving one hand down to your waist to guide your pace.
"what a fucking view..." he whistles, giving your ass a quick slap but he's groaning right after when you clench around his dick.
he's just too hot and the sting from his palm encourages you to bounce faster on his cock. his eyes remain on yours unless he's looking down to where your pussy's greedily sucking him in.
before you can even think of a response, Mingi's other hand crawls up from your chest towards the bottom of your neck, pressing lightly before wrapping his ringed fingers around your throat.
airy whines that were coming off from your mouth are cut of and Mingi thinks you look adorable like this. now that you're back to being putty under his hands, he's contemplating to ask his question again. he could edge you to get his answers but there's something stopping him.
he doesn't wanna find out though.
there's something different in Mingi tonight. aside from how he's looking at you, his touches are needier than usual. it could've been that he misses you but there seems to be an underlying worry there too. eventually, his fingers start loosening their hold around your throat so you take the chance to lean in closer.
leaving kisses along Mingi's jawline, your lips ascending until they reach his ear.
"cum inside me, baby" you whisper and he freezes, your words knocking out his breath.
"fuck for real?" he almost shouts, eyes widening until you nod, nuzzling his neck as you giggle again. he's still processing your words, not believing that you wanted him to finish inside you. both of you have been very careful since the beginning, always wearing protection each time you have sex so obviously, this is a big deal.
this must be your other surprise then and Mingi's gonna show you how thankful he is.
suddenly, Mingi's back into action. both his hands grip your hips as he fastens his thrusts, bucking up to you so fast that you have to claw your nails on his shoulders for balance.
"oh fuck, mingi!" you almost scream cause Mingi found that soft spot inside you and keeps hitting it with precision. you're so close but so is he, sensing your need to cum when his hand snakes to rub circles on your throbbing clit.
and when that band in your lower abdomen erupts, you collapse on top of him, resting your forehead against his as he reaches his own.
"holyshit babe, i'm cumming, ugh.." he warns then he bites his lower lip, dropping his head on the crook of your neck after as warm spurts of his cum fills you up.
“happy birthday.. mingi...” you greet him breathlessly as he continues rolling you on his softening cock. his ringed hands come down, groping your ass and you couldn't hold in more of your whines.
“best gift, best birthday gift, fuck” he whispers against your skin repeatedly, matching your moans when oversensitivity takes over both of your senses. you try pulling back so you get off him but he refuses to let go despite the slight sting of overstimulation.
still stubborn.
you huff but threaded your fingers along Mingi's hair instead, calming the both of you down from your highs.
"you're welcome" you smile at him brightly when you finally manage to pry his mouth from leaving wet kisses along your collarbone.
"come sleep in my room" he pouts, not even bothering to look at you.
"can't, my flight's in a few hours" you match his pout but you see his lips forming into a frown. he's so adorable when he sulks that you can't help but relent.
"but maybe, i can rest for a bit" you continue, realizing that you don't really wanna make Mingi sad on his day.
"okay, i'll order some food. actually whatever you want!" his smile is back, enthusiasm coursing back into his veins after hearing that you'll stay. sure, probably only for a few hours but that's enough for Mingi to make up for the time that you missed together due to your busy schedules.
"aren't you supposed to be celebrating with everyone?" you query, redressing quickly so you won't waste any free time you have with him.
"already did so now it's only with you" he curls his arm around your waist, putting back his cowboy hat and sunglasses on with his other hand.
the smirk on Mingi's handsome face should tell you that this night's far from over. well, it's still his birthday so he'll continue to celebrate until it's over. maybe even after if he gets lucky, he'll just make sure that he will be your last stop.
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e/n: this is unedited since i'm tryna post this within his birthday and i'm recovering rn oml. the concert def helped for inspo 😩so i hope y'all still like this tho!! <3
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hii i wanna ask if its possible you make a part 2 on behind the mask? like for example maybe how they relationship is going on or when bruce finds out??
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Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Part 2/2
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Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader
(Part 1)
Word Count: 8682
Warnings: fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl
Summary: Imma cut to the chase (Requested) Their relationship is well, but Crane wants to be more open
A/N: Holy shit, did this take a while, my bad guys!! I had no intentions to write a part two, as I had nothing else to add to this fic, but I had many requests for a part two so...here we are, lol I don't know how good this part is but it exists now, lol Thank you so much for the people that liked this fic, I hope this wraps it up for yous, if not...my bad let's go! 💚
-
The rhythmic tapping on Y/n's window had become a nightly occurrence for Y/n. She turned towards the source of the sound, her heart fluttering as she caught sight of Craw and Jonathan perched on the fire escape in front of her window.
Y/n hurried to unlatch the window, "You really ought to it open," Jonathan suggested, his voice carrying a playful edge as he flashed her a smirk.
Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with amusement. "And you really ought to use the door. This fire escape is shitty and old, it’s gonna break nay day now," she quipped back, her tone laced with affection as she pulled Jonathan inside with a tug.
Jonathan's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it adds to the aesthetic," he countered.
Y/n couldn't suppress a fond roll of her eyes as she removed Jonathan's mask, her fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment before she leaned in to capture his lips in a stolen kiss.
The moment stretched and Jonathan lips curved into a smile. As they parted, Y/n's gaze softened, her heart skipping a beat as she watched Jonathan's smile linger.
Pulling away, Y/n made her way to her desk, her movements graceful and deliberate as she grabbed a bag of seeds she had stashed away. Sprinkling them onto the surface, she watched with delight as Craw flew from Jonathan's shoulder, his wings fluttering with excitement.
Settling onto her bed, Jonathan followed suit. Laying back on the bed, Jonathan shifted his gaze to Y/n. "So, when do you plan on letting your high-flying friend know about us?" he asked.
Y/n's eyes widened in alarm, her head snapping towards him with a swift motion. "You wanna die?" she retorted.
A chuckle escaped Jonathan's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, so you're resorting to threats now?" he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Y/n couldn't help but shove his arm in response, her touch carrying a playful edge. "You know what I mean," she countered, her tone softening with affection as she met his gaze
"Better you tell him than him finding out," Jonathan said.
Y/n's expression grew tense, her worry palpable. "Yes, but telling him means exposing you to potential danger. Who knows what he might do?" she fretted, her voice filled with concern.
Jonathan's confidence remained unwavering. "As you’ve mentioned before. It would be hypocritical for him to act out," he reasoned.
Y/n shook her head. "But we're dealing with two vastly different scenarios here. Catwoman is a petty thief, and that’s very different from your... eccentricities. You're a werido doctor, doing experiments with questionable drugs that induce terrifying hallucinations and, sometimes, even casualties," she countered, her words laden with unease.
Jonathan turned his gaze to the ceiling, deep in thought. "Hmm," he mused softly.
Y/n sighed, shifting her focus upward as well. "Besides," she continued, "it could complicate things even more, considering you don’t know his identity."
"And I’m guessing you prefer it that way," Jonathan replied.
Y/n gave him a playful pout, but before she could respond, her phone rang, cutting through the tension. With a reluctant groan, she pushed herself up and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Seeing Bruce's name on the screen, she took a deep breath and answered. 
"Hey, Bruce! What's up?" she greeted, her tone deliberately light and casual to indicate that now wasn’t the best time for a serious conversation.
"Just calling to check on you," Bruce replied, his voice calm and understanding.
"I'm good, thanks. I just have someone over right now," Y/n said, glancing at Jonathan, who was watching her intently.
"Oh, is it who I think it is?" Bruce asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.
Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, it is," she admitted.
"When do I get to meet this mysterious person?" Bruce asked, the question laden with unintentional irony.
The complexity of the situation weighed on Y/n as she considered her response. "Not sure," she replied, her voice careful and measured.
"I hope you won’t keep me waiting too long," Bruce said, his tone both playful and serious.
Y/n sighed inwardly, recognizing the tangled web of secrets and identities she was caught in. "I'll see what I can do," she replied, striving to keep the conversation light despite the underlying tension.
As she ended the call, Y/n looked back at Jonathan, who raised an eyebrow inquisitively. She could sense the unspoken questions between them, the delicate balance they maintained teetering on the edge of discovery and secrecy.
As Y/n put down her phone, she could feel Jonathan's eyes on her, a mixture of curiosity and concern etched across his features. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable questions.
"So, that was Bruce Wayne?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah," Y/n admitted, sinking back onto the bed beside him. "He just wanted to check in."
Jonathan smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. "And he wants to meet me, does he?"
Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know it's not that simple. He’s... protective, and if he found out about your... nightly activities, it could get messy."
Jonathan chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Messy, indeed. But you've got to admit, there's a certain thrill in walking such a fine line. Besides, he wouldn’t be as bad as your other friend."
Y/n frowned, her worry deepening. "This isn't a game, Jonathan. Bruce isn’t someone you want as an enemy. He’s...persistent. And don’t get me started on Batman"
Jonathan reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You just want to keep me safe…you’re not embarrassed of me."
Y/n was well aware of these underlying insecurities of Jonathan’s, they were hard to miss. And keeping him as a locked up secret didn’t help. 
She nodded, the weight of her dual life pressing down on her shoulders. "Exactly. I don’t you getting hurt."
Jonathan's expression softened slightly, a rare vulnerability peeking through. "I’ll be careful, Y/n. For you."
She met his gaze, searching for sincerity in his dark eyes. "I hope so. Because if Bruce ever found out who you really are... I'm not sure what he’d do."
Jonathan leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Then we’ll just have to make sure he never does."
Y/n closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her mind swirling with worry and affection. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger and deceit, but for now, in this moment, she found solace in Jonathan’s presence.
Breaking the silence, she murmured, "We need to be smart about this. No more unnecessary risks."
Jonathan nodded, his voice a low whisper. "Aside from my obvious alter ego issues, what about me would put him off so much?" he asked curiously.
"Well, for starters, you're technically my superior at work, which complicates things," Y/n began. "And let's not forget, you're literally his age, which doesn't exactly help our case. So, we’re already off to a rocky start."
Jonathan sighed, acknowledging her points. "Yes, you make a fair point," he conceded.
"Will you stay the night?" Y/n asked, her voice soft and hopeful.
Jonathan considered her for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. "I don't see why not," he replied, his tone warm and reassuring.
Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her as Jonathan settled more comfortably on the bed beside her. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow over the room. She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every detail.
"You know," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "despite everything, I do feel safe with you."
Jonathan's expression softened, and he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. "And I with you," he murmured. 
They lay there in silence for a while, wrapped in each other's presence, the world outside their little bubble momentarily forgotten. The unspoken promise of mutual protection and understanding hung in the air, a fragile but resilient bond between them.
-
Waking up was easier than usual, especially with the enticing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Y/n stretched and climbed out of bed. Craw was perched on the desk, still asleep. Below the bird lay Jonathan's mask, resting limply on the surface. Y/n followed the delicious scent to the kitchen and there, she found Jonathan at the stove, and she felt a surge of gratitude that he hadn't left as she had half-expected.
"Morning," Y/n greeted, a smile spreading across her face.
"Good morning," Jonathan replied, turning to plate some food for the two of them.
He set the two plates on the small dining table, and they both took a seat. "Thank you," Y/n said softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
As they began to eat, Craw flew in from her room, landing on the table in front of them. Y/n broke off a piece of her breakfast and offered it to Craw, who eagerly accepted the treat.
"You don't have work?" Y/n asked between bites.
"I do, but I have some time," Jonathan responded, a small smile playing on his lips.
They ate in comfortable silence, the morning light filtering through the windows casting a warm glow over the scene. 
"You know," she said, her tone playful, "you’re going to spoil me if you keep making breakfast like this."
Jonathan chuckled, stacking the plates. "Then I guess I'll have to make it a habit."
Finishing her last bite, Y/n leaned back in her chair, her eyes studying Jonathan. "I could get used to this," she admitted softly.
Jonathan looked up from his plate, his gaze meeting hers with a tenderness that was rare for him. "So could I," he replied.
Y/n squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion.
Jonathan looked at his watch. "I should probably get ready for work."
Reluctantly, Y/n released his hand, watching as he stood up and began clearing the table. As he carried the dishes to the sink, Y/n stood and followed him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
They stood like that for a moment, savoring the closeness before Jonathan gently turned in her embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/n giggled and released him from her hold, “I’ll do the dishes.” she siad.  
Jonathan walked off to her bedroom. As Y/n cleaned the dishes, she heard his voice call out. "Do you know where my mask is?"
"It should be on the desk. I saw it before," Y/n replied, rinsing a plate.
"Craw must have moved it," Jonathan said, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Do you really need it today?" Y/n asked, pausing her task.
The question, though simple, carried significant weight. She didn’t want him to wear his Scarecrow mask, knowing it would mean he was engaging in dangerous activities that could put him at risk with Batman.
Jonathan appeared in the doorway, contemplating her words. "I suppose not," he said, moving toward her with a softened expression. "I'll see you tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Of course," Y/n replied, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.
With a final kiss, Jonathan headed towards the door, grabbing his coat. "Stay safe," he said, a note of concern in his voice.
"You too," Y/n responded, watching as he left, the door clicking softly behind him.
Once he was gone, Y/n turned her attention back to Craw, who was still perched on the table. "You not following him?" she asked, offering the bird another morsel of food.
Craw pecked at the treat, his feathers ruffling contentedly. “Guess you’re with me then.” Y/n couldn't help but smile. 
After finishing the dishes, Y/n dried her hands and made her way to the bedroom, her thoughts already shifting to the upcoming visit to the Batcave.Bruce had called her last night, and she assumed he'd want to see her today. She knew she needed to be prepared for whatever Bruce had in store for her. He was always easy on her, but sometimes, he was a lot to deal with.
Entering the bedroom, she moved to her closet and grabbed clothes to change into. She laid them out on the bed and then headed to the bathroom. 
-
It was easy enough to get to Wayne Manor, where she was greeted at the door by Alfred. “Good morning, Miss L/n,” Alfred said with a warm smile.
“Morning, Alfred,” Y/n replied, returning his smile as she stepped into the grand foyer.
“Is Bruce home?” Y/n asked.
“He left just over an hour ago. He should be back soon. I’m sure he was expecting you. Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Alfred offered.
“That would be nice, thank you. Does Bruce have any fizzy drinks, or does he only stock protein shakes and expensive booze?” Y/n joked.
“Master Wayne does have a rather... focused selection, but I assure you, Miss L/n, we do keep a few civilised options for guests. Perhaps a sparkling water with a twist of lemon?”
Y/n chuckled softly. "Sounds good to me. I'll be down in the Batcave," she said.
Making her way down through the hidden bookshelf entrance, Y/n wasn’t too sure what she was gonna do. There were no immediate threats she was aware of, and Bruce hadn’t assigned her any specific research tasks, so she decided to indulge in a bit of fun.
She settled into the chair at the Batcomputer and typed in "Scarecrow," smirking as she did. She wanted to see what Bruce had on him and if there were any scandals she could teasingly bring up to Jonathan tonight.
As large images of Scarecrow filled the screen, Y/n smiled, engrossed in the data. She barely noticed Alfred entering the cave.
“With that smile on your face, I would have assumed you were looking at your boyfriend,” Alfred’s witty remark echoed through the cavernous space.
“Oh, but we would make such a cute couple,” Y/n joked back, grinning at Alfred.
"From what I’ve heard from Master Wayne, I’m surprised you’re not already,” Alfred said, setting down a tray with sparkling water beside her.
Y/n laughed. "Because Bruce would totally approve of him!"
“With the cat he’s running around with, he ought to be more lenient,” Alfred quipped.
"See, that's why you're my favorite butler," Y/n smiled, leaning back in the chair.
“That would imply you know other butlers,” Alfred replied with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, you’re my one and only,” Y/n said with a grin.
Just then, a notification popped up on the Batcomputer, indicating a presence at the front door. Clicking onto the camera feed, Y/n saw Bruce arriving.
“I suppose I should answer that,” Alfred said, turning to head upstairs to greet Bruce.
While waiting in the Batcave, Y/n watched as Bruce entered. “Morning, Bruce,” she greeted him.
“It’s 2 PM,” Bruce corrected, glancing at the Batcomputer's clock.
Y/n snorted, checking the time herself. "So it is."
"You called me yesterday?" she asked, turning back to him.
“I was calling to tell you there was a Scarecrow sighting last night. Thought you might be interested,” Bruce informed her.
“Really? Damn,” Y/n said, surprised.
“Too bad you were busy with your friend,” Bruce teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
Y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. "You just love to rub it in, don’t you?"
"I don’t know why I don’t get to meet him," Bruce said, crossing his arms, his tone somewhere between curious and irritated.
"Because you’d be weird about it," Y/n shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly. "Weird? I’m not weird. I just want to know who’s been spending so much time with you. Making sure he’s...trustworthy."
Y/n rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Exactly. That's what I mean by weird. You’d give him the whole ‘protective’ speech, probably stalked him. Plus, you two aren't exactly the same type of...career men."
Bruce huffed, clearly unconvinced. "It’s my job to stalk."
“And you'd probably scare him off," Y/n added, shaking her head with amusement. "You’d interrogate him like he’s some criminal mastermind."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "And is he?"
Y/n hesitated for a split second before shrugging, her grin widening. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Bruce’s expression softened, though his curiosity remained. "I just don’t want you getting hurt. That's all."
Y/n smiled at the sincerity behind his words. "I know, Bruce. But trust me, I’ve got this."
Bruce eyed her for a moment longer, his sharp gaze searching her face for any cracks in her confidence. When he didn’t find any, he finally sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "Alright, I’ll back off…for now."
Y/n chuckled softly, pushing herself off the Batcomputer and stretching her arms above her head. "Appreciated. Besides, I think he'd be more scared of you than you’d be of him."
Bruce smirked, clearly amused by the idea. "If he's smart, he should be."
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but before she could respond, the Batcomputer beeped to life, pulling both their attention to the screen. The glowing red alert flashed in sync with a detailed map of Gotham’s city grid.
"What now?" Y/n muttered, leaning closer to get a better look.
Bruce’s expression instantly hardened, the switch from casual conversation to business happening within seconds. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up more data.
"Another Scarecrow sighting," he said, voice low and focused. The map zoomed in on a section of the Narrows, where several alarms had been triggered in what looked like an abandoned factory. "This could be serious."
Y/n's stomach flipped at the mention, her mind immediately jumping to Jonathan. She tried to keep her cool, but the worry crept in before she could stop it. "You're sure it’s him?" she asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease.
Bruce glanced at her, noting the change in her tone, but didn't comment. "The chemicals found at the scene match his previous attacks. It's a safe assumption."
Y/n swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. Jonathan had said he wasn’t planning anything for today...but if this sighting was real, she had no idea what he was up to.
"I’ll handle this," Bruce said, grabbing his cowl from the side. "You stay here. I don’t want you getting mixed up in it."
Y/n clenched her fists, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral. "I can help, Bruce."
"Not this time," he said firmly, already moving toward the Batmobile.
Y/n hesitated, torn between her loyalty to Bruce and her concern for Jonathan. "Just...be careful, okay?" she called after him.
Bruce paused at the Batmobile’s door, glancing back at her. "Always," he said, slipping into the driver’s seat and speeding off into the cave’s tunnel.
As the roar of the Batmobile faded, Y/n stood there for a moment, her mind swirling with what to do next. She could wait for Bruce to handle it like he always did...or she could find out for herself what Jonathan was really up to. 
Taking a deep breath, Y/n made up her mind. She wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines this time.
Y/n snatched her phone off the desk, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook slightly as she scrolled to Jonathan's contact and hit call. She wasn’t even sure why she was so furious, after all, she hadn’t explicitly told him to quit his villainous habits, but she thought he’d at least try. That hope had been dashed with Bruce’s news.
The phone rang once, twice, three times. She didn’t expect him to pick up. In fact, she was already mentally preparing for the voicemail beep. But then, to her surprise, his calm voice came through the line.
"Hello?"
Y/n blinked, caught off guard. "What the fuck are you doing?"
There was a pause, followed by a confused, “What?"
"Don't ‘what’ me, Jonathan," Y/n snapped, pacing now. "Bruce just told me there’s a Scarecrow sighting in the Narrows. Your gas was spotted. What the fuck, Jonathan?!" 
Jonathan let out an exasperated sigh. “...I’m at work. Like, real work. At Arkham.”
Y/n stopped pacing, furrowing her brow. "You’re...at Arkham?" She was still furious, but confusion was starting to take over. "But your gas-"
"Is in the Narrows, yeah, I know…" he cut her off, his tone darkening. "It’s Poison Ivy."
"Poison Ivy?" Y/n repeated, the confusion on her face deepening.
"Yeah, we made a deal a while back," Jonathan admitted, sounding less than pleased. "I gave her some of my chemical mixes in exchange for some of her plant matter. She must be using it now."
Y/n ran a hand through her hair, feeling a mix of frustration and relief. "So you're not...?" She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. She had been ready to go off on him, but now…
"No, I’m not running around the Narrows today," Jonathan muttered, clearly irritated by the whole situation. "And you think I’d be that sloppy if I were?"
Y/n exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "God, Jonathan, you could’ve warned me about the deal."
"I didn’t think she'd use it, honestly," he replied, his voice edged with frustration. "She’s impulsive when it comes to her little vendettas."
Y/n felt the anger fading, though she was still annoyed. "You’re lucky Bruce doesn’t know it’s Ivy yet."
Jonathan snorted. "Well, let’s keep it that way, shall we?"
"Yeah," she muttered. There was a beat of silence on the line before she sighed. "You better not be lying."
“I’m not," Jonathan replied, his voice softening a little. "Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m trying, Y/n. I really am."
She bit her lip, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Okay. Just...don’t make me regret trusting you."
“I won’t,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten.
Y/n nodded to herself, even though he couldn’t see it. “Fine. I’ll deal with Bruce. You deal with Ivy.”
“Easier said than done,” Jonathan muttered.
She huffed. "Tell me about it."
After hanging up, Y/n tossed her phone onto the Batcomputer desk, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. It was hard to stay mad at Jonathan when it turned out he wasn’t the one running around as Scarecrow today. But it didn’t make things any easier. But if Bruce found out Ivy was using his gas, it might blow some smoke off of Jonathan.
Y/n sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer, her fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. Bruce had already left for the Narrows, but now she had new information, information that possibly helped the situation. 
She reached for her phone and quickly dialed Bruce’s number. It didn’t take long for him to pick up.
“What is it?” Bruce’s gruff voice came through the line, filled with urgency.
Y/n exhaled sharply. “I know it’s Ivy.”
There was a pause on the other end before Bruce spoke again. “And how did you get this infomation?”
Y/n hesitated, her mind flashing back to her not-so-distant past. “Let’s just say Scarecrow gave me some insight.” Her tone was sharp and cautious.
There was another brief silence. Then Bruce’s voice, lower and more guarded, came back. “When?”
“When he reversed his drug effects on me. I found out some things during that lovely little vacation, like how he and Ivy have this deal. Something about trading toxins, he gave her some of his gas formulas.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Bruce’s question wasn’t accusing, but the tension in his voice made it clear he wasn’t pleased.
“I didn’t think it would come up again,” Y/n said defensively, her fingers tightening around the phone. She hated lying to Bruce. “And…well, I didn’t exactly want to give you more reasons to go after Scarecrow. He did save me..”
Bruce’s sigh echoed through the phone. “You know this makes things more complicated.”
“I know,” Y/n muttered. “But Scarecrow wasn’t lying. He didn’t know Ivy was planning to use it, and now that she is, we’ve got a mess on our hands.”
There was the sound of movement on Bruce’s end, probably him moving through the dark streets of Gotham. “Stay on the Batcomputer. I’m close to the Narrows, but I need more intel on Ivy’s last known location. And we need to talk when I get back.”
“Got it,” Y/n responded, already pulling up files and maps, scanning through recent surveillance. “But Bruce…be careful. Ivy’s unpredictable, especially when she’s got a new toy.”
Bruce didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was firm. “I know.”
Y/n stayed glued to the screen, her heart pounding in her chest as she monitored Bruce’s position and scoured the data for any trace of Ivy. It was hard not to think about the delicate line she was walking, caught between the man she loved like a father figure and the villain who had once been her captor.
As the Batcomputer beeped with a new set of coordinates, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Bruce, I’ve got her. She’s holed up in one of the old greenhouses just north of the Narrows.”
“Send me the location,” Bruce replied, his tone all business.
Y/n tapped furiously on the keyboard, sending the details to his encrypted communicator. “I’ll come,”
“I don’t need backup,” Bruce replied.
Y/n smirked despite the tension. “Of course you don’t. Just be safe.”
The line went dead, and Y/n clenched her jaw, staring at the Batcomputer. She knew Bruce’s directive was clear, stay out of it. But sitting back and waiting wasn’t her style. Bruce wasn’t immune to Jonathan’s gas like she was, he was vulnerable, and knowing Ivy, she would have made the toxin much worse.
No. She wasn’t just going to sit there.
Without another thought, Y/n pushed back from the desk and made her way to the suit vault. She quickly donned her Batgirl outfit, every movement precise and practiced. The familiar weight of the cowl settled on her head, the cape brushing against her shoulders. A sense of purpose surged through her veins.
Screw Bruce’s order. She wasn’t letting him face this alone.
In record time, Y/n made her way to the Batmotorcycle. The engine roared to life beneath her, the vibrations tingling through her fingers as she gripped the handlebars. The chill Gotham air hit her full force as she sped out of the Batcave and onto the streets. 
Her heart raced, not just from the speed but from the anticipation. Ivy was unpredictable, and if she was mixing her plants with Scarecrow’s fear toxins, there was no telling how bad this could get. Bruce might be Batman, but even he couldn’t always do it alone. Not this time.
As the city blurred past her, Y/n’s mind focused on the coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier, the greenhouse north of the Narrows. If Ivy had set up there, then whatever she had planned would likely already be in motion.
She tightened her grip and accelerated. She wasn’t just backup. She was part of the team, and Bruce would have to deal with that when she got there.
Y/n weaved through the dark streets of Gotham, the distant sound of sirens blending into the night as her Batcycle roared toward the Narrows. The coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier were burned into her memory, guiding her through the labyrinth of alleys and side streets with pinpoint accuracy. The further she rode, the denser the buildings became, their looming shadows creating an eerie silence over the area.
When she finally reached the edge of the Narrows, the glowing greenhouse structure came into view. It was tucked behind a row of dilapidated buildings, just as she had suspected. Ivy was hiding in plain sight, and her mix of flora and Scarecrow’s fear toxins would be deadly if released.
Y/n slowed her bike as she approached, parking it behind a crumbling wall to keep it hidden. She surveyed the scene from a distance, her breath steady as she slipped off her helmet and carefully crouched down to get a better view.
A thin, green mist hung in the air, barely noticeable, but enough to set off alarms in her mind. The plants surrounding the greenhouse seemed to writhe unnaturally, their movements synchronized, as if they were waiting for Ivy’s command. Y/n gritted her teeth. She had to get in there before this escalated any further.
Suddenly, the low hum of a Batmobile engine caught her attention. Bruce was already here. She had no idea if he had spotted her yet, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. She tapped into her comms.
“I’m here,” Y/n whispered into her earpiece, watching the shadows of the greenhouse. “Tell me you have a plan.”
A short pause followed before Bruce’s voice crackled through. “You weren’t supposed to come, Y/n.”
“I’m aware,” she shot back quietly. “But you’ll thank me later. What’s the move?”
Another brief silence before Bruce responded, his tone edged with reluctant acceptance. “Ivy’s inside. She’s preparing to release the toxins. I need you to disable the generators behind the greenhouse. If we cut the power, we’ll stop the spread before it gets worse.”
Y/n nodded to herself, scanning the area for an entry point. “Got it. I’m on it.”
Sticking to the shadows, she slipped around the greenhouse, staying low and silent. The air smelled heavy, rich with the scent of damp earth and something sickly sweet—probably the beginning traces of Ivy’s toxin. She had to move fast.
Reaching the back of the greenhouse, Y/n spotted the generators Bruce had mentioned. Thick vines coiled around them, pulsing faintly as if feeding off the energy. She pulled out a pair of batarangs, slicing through the foliage with careful precision.
Just as she was about to sever the last vine, a voice rang out behind her, smooth and melodic. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, darling.”
Y/n froze, her blood running cold. She turned slowly, and there stood Poison Ivy, her red hair gleaming under the moonlight, eyes glowing with a dangerous, otherworldly hue. She smiled, a slow, wicked smile.
“Wondering if you were gonna show up,” Ivy purred, taking a step forward. 
Y/n tightened her grip on the batarangs, her heart pounding but her face steady. “What’s your deal here, Ivy? This isn’t your usual style.”
Ivy’s smile widened, her fingers trailing through the air as the plants around them quivered in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Gotham needs cleansing. And with a little help from Scarecrow’s toxins, I’ll make sure it happens.”
Before Y/n could react, the vines whipped out, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her off balance. She stumbled, but quickly regained her footing, yanking her arm free with a sharp tug. Ivy laughed softly, the sound echoing through the garden.
But Y/n wasn’t backing down. "You’re not cleansing anything..”
With a quick movement, she hurled the batarangs at the remaining vines, slicing through them cleanly. The generators sputtered, their lights flickering before the power shut off completely. The greenhouse dimmed as the machinery inside ground to a halt.
Ivy’s smile vanished, replaced with a cold, calculating glare. She growled, raising her hands as the plants around them surged to life.
Just as the vines began to close in, Y/n heard a low groan from across the greenhouse. Her eyes darted to the source, and her heart dropped. There, amidst the writhing green tendrils, Batman was bound, arms and legs ensnared by thick vines, his body slumped against them. His cape was torn, his breathing labored, and his face was pale. Ivy had already hit him with a dose of her toxin, enough to weaken even Batman.
Ivy’s laughter echoed through the greenhouse as she stepped into view, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Oh, look at him,” she cooed mockingly. “The mighty Dark Knight, felled by a little plant. Isn’t he beautiful when he’s helpless?”
Y/n’s blood boiled, but she kept her face neutral, watching every move Ivy made. Her heart raced. She had to free Bruce before it was too late. But Ivy wasn’t finished yet.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you, little Bat?” Ivy sneered, her gaze now fixed on Y/n. “Disabling my power? Stopping my plan?” She stepped forward, cradling a vial of her signature toxin, swirling with an ominous green mist. “Well, let's see how clever you are after a dose of this.”
Before Y/n could react, Ivy flung the vial at her feet, shattering it with a sharp crack. The toxic gas billowed out, curling around Y/n in a cloud of green haze. Ivy grinned wickedly, certain she had won.
But something was wrong. Y/n stood there, her expression unchanging as the gas swirled around her. No coughing, no dizziness, nothing. Ivy’s smile faltered.
Y/n scoffed. “That’s not going to work on me, Ivy.”
Ivy blinked in disbelief. “What…?” she breathed, watching in shock as Y/n stepped forward, completely unaffected by the gas that should’ve incapacitated her.
“You can thank Scarecrow for that,” Y/n said, her voice edged with confidence. 
Ivy’s face twisted in fury. “That traitor,” she spat, raising her hands to command the vines. But Y/n was faster.
With a quick flick of her wrist, Y/n hurled a batarang through the air, slicing cleanly through the vines that held Bruce captive. He slumped to the ground with a grunt, but he was free.
“Get her!” Ivy screamed, and the plants surged toward Y/n, but she was ready. She dodged and weaved between the tendrils, her agility unmatched as she closed the distance between her and Ivy.
Before Ivy could react, Y/n landed a solid punch to her gut, knocking the wind out of her. The plants faltered, their connection to Ivy weakening as she stumbled back.
Y/n's grip tightened on Ivy's collar, her breath heavy with adrenaline. "Give it up, Ivy," she hissed. But Ivy’s smirk only widened, eyes glinting with malicious intent.
"You really think you can threaten me?" Ivy scoffed, and with a wave of her hand, the vines surged to life once more. This time, Y/n wasn’t fast enough. Thick, thorny tendrils wrapped around her wrists and ankles, yanking her off her feet and slamming her into the ground.
She winced, pain shooting through her body as she struggled against the vines. Ivy stood over her, victorious, her emerald eyes glowing with satisfaction.
"Poor little Bat," Ivy sneered, crouching down to Y/n’s level. "You really thought you could take me on your own? Without your precious Batman to save you?"
Y/n gritted her teeth, yanking at the vines, but it was no use. They only tightened around her limbs, cutting into her skin. She was stuck, helpless as Ivy reached for another vial of her toxin, twirling it between her fingers.
"This will be much more fun," Ivy purred.
Y/n's heart raced. She had never been this close to defeat. Her mind raced for a way out, but the vines held her too tight. Batman was still too out of it to help.
Just as Ivy raised the vial to unleash its deadly contents, the sound of footsteps echoed through the greenhouse.
Ivy froze, turning her head slightly. Before she could react, a cloud of smoke enveloped her. Y/n’s eyes widened as Ivy gasped, although it had no effect on the pair, it still clouded the room in a thick smog.
Out of the smoke stepped the Scarecrow, his form looming ominously. "Ivy," he drawled, his voice distorted and menacing, "did you forget our little agreement? No playing with my things."
Ivy’s expression morphed from anger to confusion as she saw Jonathan approaching. The smoke began to clear, and she got a better view, but before she could fully process the situation, a dark figure emerged from the shadows behind her.
Batman, clad in his black armor, lunged forward with a swift precision that took Ivy by surprise. He had been lurking just out of sight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With a powerful sweep, he knocked Ivy off her feet, sending her crashing to the ground. 
Ivy glared up at him, her confusion shifting back to fury as she scrambled to regain her footing. But she was no match for Batman’s physical strength. Jonathan must have injected him with an antidote before he entered, and now Bruce was fully alert, his abilities restored. 
Bruce moved with lethal efficiency, closing the distance between him and Ivy in a heartbeat. With a single, powerful punch, he connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Ivy dazed, and she struggled to regain her bearings.
Without missing a beat, Batman swiftly produced a set of restraints from his utility belt. He moved in to secure Ivy, tying her up with expert precision before she could fully recover. Ivy glared up at him as he tightened the knot, her defiance still flickering in her eyes, but she was completely at his mercy now. 
Scarecrow strode over to Y/n, his sharp gaze locked onto hers as he effortlessly sliced through the vines with a concealed blade, freeing her from Ivy’s grasp. He crouched beside her, his face mere inches from hers.
"You really shouldn’t be here," he said softly, almost teasingly, though there was an underlying concern in his tone. "You promised me you’d stay out of trouble."
Y/n panted, still reeling from the fight. "Yeah, well...so did you," she muttered, rubbing her sore wrists.
Jonathan stood, offering her a hand. She hesitated for only a second before taking it, allowing him to help her to her feet.
"I thought you weren’t the rescuing type," Y/n quipped, her voice shaky but defiant.
Jonathan tilted his head, his mask concealing his expression, though she could almost feel the smirk behind it. "I’m not. But it seems you’re always the exception."
Before Y/n could respond, a deep voice suddenly broke through the tension of the moment. “Am I interrupting something?” 
Y/n turned to see Bruce emerging from the shadows, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the greenhouse. She felt a rush of relief mixed with anxiety as he approached, his gaze scanning the chaotic scene.
“Uhh,” Y/n barely replied.
“Scarecrow.” Batman began to step closer, his cape billowing slightly with the movement, but Y/n quickly stepped forward, shielding Jonathan from Bruce’s intense scrutiny.
“Wait! Batman, he helped us...” Y/n said, casting a fleeting glance at Jonathan, who stood beside her, calm and composed amidst the chaos. “He came just in time.”
Batman’s expression remained unyielding, a hardened mask that betrayed nothing but the weight of his concern. Frustration flickered across his features as he assessed the aftermath of the battle. “You should never have come. I told you to stay put.”
Y/n felt her heart race at his reprimand, but she couldn’t let it go unchallenged. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we did it!”
Bruce's gaze shifted back to Jonathan, his voice low and demanding. “Care to explain the guest?”
Y/n struggled to articulate the whirlwind of events that had led to this moment, especially with Ivy still unconscious on the floor. “Can we talk about this later?” she said, urgency creeping into her voice.
“Not if you want him out of Arkham,” Batman replied, his tone brokering no argument.
Y/n let out a dry chuckle, the tension almost absurd. “Haha, funny you say that…”
Before she could gather her thoughts, Jonathan stepped forward, his demeanor unexpectedly calm and measured. “I am more than willing to discuss this with you elsewhere,” he said, his voice smooth yet authoritative.
This candid offer took Y/n by surprise, she hadn’t expected him to be so amenable, especially given the circumstances. Her eyes darted between Jonathan and Batman, searching for signs of tension or underlying animosity. “Scarecrow, are you sure?” she asked, hesitating as the implications of his statement settled in.
“I don’t want to cause more trouble than necessary,” he replied, his mask obscuring any deeper emotion. “But I think it’s vital we have a proper conversation about what happened tonight.”
Batman narrowed his eyes, still assessing Jonathan with a blend of skepticism and wariness. “I’m not so sure I can trust you just yet,” he said, his voice steady. “Your methods are... unconventional.”
“True, but tonight, I acted in your favor,” Jonathan replied, meeting Bruce's gaze with unwavering confidence. “Besides, you don’t want to waste this opportunity to learn more about Ivy’s plans and the potential threat they pose.”
Y/n felt the weight of the moment. She knew that trusting Jonathan came with risks, but he had also proven himself when it mattered most. “Batman, he’s right,” she added, hoping to bridge the gap.
Batman considered her words, the tension in the air palpable. Finally, he nodded slowly, the hardened expression softening ever so slightly. “Fine,” he said. “But this is not a free pass, Scarecrow. I’ll be watching you closely.”
Jonathan inclined his head. “Understood. Shall we?” He replied, his tone light, but there was an unmistakable edge to his words.
Just then, the wailing of sirens echoed through the night, cutting through the remnants of chaos like a knife. The sound sent a jolt through Y/n. “We need to move,” she urged, glancing back toward the entrance of the greenhouse where Ivy lay incapacitated.
Without waiting for a response, the three of them rushed out of the building, the scent of damp earth and foliage mingling with the sharp tang of adrenaline in the air. They quickly scanned their surroundings, seeking a more suitable location to discuss their precarious situation.
Batman moved toward a nearby alley, the shadows deep and inviting. They ducked into the narrow passage, the sound of the sirens fading into the distance as they found a moment of respite. 
Y/n leaned against the cold brick wall, her heart still racing from the encounter. “We can’t stay here for long,” she said, glancing at both men. 
“Agreed,” Batman said, his voice steady as he took a position near the entrance of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on the street. “But I’m more focused on the criminal in front of me right now.”
Y/n glanced at Jonathan, who remained calm and collected, his mask shadowing his expression. “I did my best” she began, her voice steadying as she recounted the events leading up to Ivy’s defeat. “I tried to stop her, but she caught me in the process. He showed up just in time to help.”
“How did he even know what was going on?” Batman asked, standing tall and imposing as he glared at Jonathan.
“Let’s not forget that I saved your life. If it weren’t for my anti-toxin, you’d still be on the floor,” Scarecrow retorted, his voice laced with a mix of arrogance and confidence.
Y/n forced a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. The tension was palpable as she glanced at Batman’s sharp eyes, her heart racing. “I-I told him…”
“And why did he come?” Batman demanded, his gaze unwavering, dissecting every nuance of Jonathan’s expression.
“I had my reasons,” Jonathan replied, his tone turning serious.
“And it’s those reasons I’d like to understand,” Batman pressed, his voice low and commanding.
Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle in her chest. “He came for me, Batman. You already know that.”
“But I want to hear it from him,” Batman insisted, not breaking eye contact.
Jonathan remained unfazed. “I came because she called for me. She thought it was my attack downtown, and I knew she would rush to confront it. I didn’t want her getting hurt. She’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t always think.”
“Hey!” Y/n shot back, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
“And you knew I’d be there,” Batman interjected, his tone incredulous.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?” Jonathan replied smoothly. “It was you who took my mask that day, wasn’t it?”
Batman reached behind him and pulled out a piece of fabric, the unmistakable outline of Jonathan’s mask. “I’ve known for a while,” he admitted, his voice steady.
Y/n’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? And you said nothing?”
“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Batman responded, his tone unyielding. 
Y/n crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, “So not cool.”
Jonathan smirked under his mask, eyeing Batman. “So, what are you going to do to me, Batman? Lock me up?”
Batman tossed the mask toward Jonathan with a swift motion. “Not tonight, Crane.”
Jonathan caught the mask effortlessly and tucked it into his pocket, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes. Batman continued, his voice low and steady, “I’m guessing you know who I am as well?”
“I have an idea…” Jonathan replied.
The tension between Batman and Jonathan hung thick in the air, both men staring each other down in a silent standoff. Y/n felt the weight of their gaze as she stood between them, unsure of what to say next.
Y/n shifted nervously between the two, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Well…” she started, trying to defuse the tension in the air. 
Before she could say anymore, Batman’s voice broke the silence. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Crane. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”
Jonathan chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from the great Dark Knight.”
Y/n shifted her weight, glancing nervously between the two. “Cool, let’s drop it then, okay?” she said, forcing a nervous laugh. 
Batman’s stern gaze flicked to her. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Y/n. Associating with him,” he nodded toward Jonathan “is a mistake. He can’t be trusted.”
Jonathan’s eyes darkened, his voice cold. “Trust is a matter of perspective, Batman. And right now, it seems she trusts me a great amount.”
Y/n felt her chest tighten. “You’re one to talk, Batman,” she said quickly, trying to bridge the widening gap between them. “The entire city knows about yours at Cat Women’s fling..”
“They’re two very different criminals,” Batman asked, his voice sharp, causing Y/n to groan. “Maybe he’s just playing a longer game, using you as a pawn.”
Jonathan stepped closer, his voice calm but edged with warning. “If I were playing a game, Batman, I’d have made my move by now. But this…tonight…I did it for her.”
The statement hung in the air, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up at Jonathan, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
Batman narrowed his eyes. “You’re walking a fine line, Crane. Don’t think I won’t be there when you cross it.”
Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, how about we call it a night?” she suggested, desperate to break the tension. 
Batman’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned, his cape billowing as he strode into the shadows. “Stay out of trouble,” he muttered, disappearing into the night.
Jonathan watched him go, then turned to Y/n, his eyes softer than they had been a moment ago. “You should listen to him, you know.”
Y/n rolled her eyes. “Says you.”
Jonathan smirked, his usual calm confidence returning. “Touché.”
Y/n sighed, looking up at him. “Why did you really come tonight?”
Jonathan paused, his expression unreadable. “I told you. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night felt strangely still, as if the chaos from earlier had been swept away.
Y/n glanced back toward the city, then at Jonathan. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
Jonathan gave her a look, glancing at Y/n, his expression softening just slightly. “Not a chance,” he said, he tucked the mask away and stepped closer. “I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”
Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Wait, what? You’re not busy? I’ve already wasted a lot of your time.”
Jonathan’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. “You’ve had a rough night. I’m not letting you walk home alone.” His tone was calm, but there was no room for argument.
Y/n hesitated, glancing at the empty street. Part of her wanted to protest, but the other part felt a strange comfort in his words. She sighed, giving him a half-smile. “You know I can protect myself.”
Y/n shed her outer layers in the shadowed alley, blending into the darkness to avoid drawing attention.
Without another word, the two of them started walking down the quiet streets, side by side. The tension from earlier faded with each step, replaced by an odd sense of ease. Y/n glanced at Jonathan out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t the same man she had faced in battle countless times. There was something different tonight, a strange connection between them that she couldn’t quite shake.
As they reached her apartment building, Jonathan paused at the entrance, his gaze scanning the area with sharp precision. Just then, the sound of flapping wings broke the silence. Craw came swooping down from the sky, a single flower clasped in its beak. It dropped the delicate bloom right into Y/n's hands before perching itself on Jonathan’s shoulder.
Y/n looked at the flower in surprise, recognizing the rare blossom immediately. “A flower delivery?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she twirled the stem between her fingers.
Jonathan glanced at Craw and then at the flower, his face carefully neutral. “Must’ve been hunting and got distracted,” he said smoothly, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Birds are unpredictable like that.”
Y/n chuckled, stepping closer to him. “Right. A total coincidence.”
She stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to make him freeze for a moment. His smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something he didn’t quite let show often.
As she pulled back, Y/n smiled warmly, clutching the flower to her chest. “Thanks, Jonathan.”
He cleared his throat, brushing off the moment as Craw flapped its wings once more. “Don’t mention it.”
Y/n walked into the apartment complex, hesitating for a moment. She glanced back at Jonathan, who was still standing there, his usual guarded demeanor softening. 
“Are you coming up?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.
Jonathan's eyes flickered with something unreadable before he gave a slight nod. “If you’ll have me,” he replied, stepping forward.
They walked up to her apartment together in comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft flutter of Craw’s wings as the crow swooped ahead of them. When they reached her door, Y/n pushed it open and stepped inside, feeling Jonathan’s presence right behind her.
As the door shut behind them, the weight of Gotham, of the night’s events, seemed to fade away. There were no masks, no games, just the quiet understanding between them that, somehow, this felt right.
-
A/N: Sorry if it isn't good, I got through half of it then disappeared for ages, then carried on, so if it doesn't line up right then...oops I will not be writing any more parts for this, as there is nothing else for me to add to this fic, sorry I also ended up finishing this fic at like...2am, so if it's shit...my bad again Thank you for the support and I hope you did enjoy :) 💚
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billiedeansbitch · 1 year ago
Text
𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞
(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary: You see her once every few weeks and you make sure to make the most of it.
a/n: look a peace offering for my long absence (lol it's just a few days) anyway work was stressful. I couldn't write shit.
warning/s: cheating. unhealthy relationship. borderline obsession. SMUT. NSFW. mommy kink.
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“Aww, you’re such a fucking slut for mommy, and for mommy only. Isn’t that right, baby?” she cooed as her fingertips dug on your cheeks, holding your face in a none gentle way. If speaking was hard, it was only proven to you that nodding your head was way worse than you thought–well, actually, you didn’t think so much ahead, you just wanted to satisfy her. 
The shapeshifter laughed at the poor attempt you tried, causing her grip to tightened, the insides of your cheeks dug even more to the point she could feel your skull. You whimpered with pleading eyes. 
“Good thing mommy knows exactly what to do with  little sluts like you, hmm?” your knees buckled, and even with her leg already wedged in between your thighs, you didn’t think you could still hold yourself against the wall, not knowing how long you could last until she was bored with her games you whined and bucked your hips seeking her touch, thinking she could spare you just this time. 
Larissa tsked, removing her leg. Her gaze narrowed at you, lips twitching to a slight smirk, “Oh, are you whining? Is my baby whining? You want mommy’s cock in your pretty, tight pussy, baby?” this time she slammed her leg right back in its previous position, “Say it.” the ache building in between your legs felt too much, and God, Larissa knew you weren’t far from begging her especially with that half-lidded look you were giving her, your chest heaving. You looked feral, so touch starved, and absolutely ready to tear her limbs off. It was amusing.
“Yes...please. Please, mommy.”  she leaned, her breath fanning across your face until you could feel it directly on your lips. You squirmed, closing your eyes and letting your lips fall apart. “Do better.” she murmured. 
“Bitch”
Smack. 
You stared at her, shock written all over your face but it quickly dissipated not giving the total satisfaction, your hand soothing the reddening spot on your cheek. “Now, now, sweetheart don’t be a brat—” she sounded so calm and collected. She had a smile on her lips that meant to mock you, she stepped to your space once more and held your sore cheek, her thumb running over the flesh. “We both know how it will end up for you. You’re lucky mommy’s not in the mood to punish you now but I will certainly keep this in mind. Apologize. Now. ”
It was unhealthy how you both wanted to tear each other off limb by limb yet you were both so intoxicated with one another that you couldn’t keep away from each other. The reality of it all should make you gag and crawl your way to church, pray for your sins and wash off your filth with your tears but you were so deep within your lust and affection for her that none of it seemed to matter.
You apologized. She kissed your forehead, “Don’t do that again. You know it upsets mommy when you talk back to her. Just be my good girl, okay?” while she smoothened your hair away from your face, you couldn’t believe how genuinely tender she appeared to be, how it seemed that the cruel woman she once was was only one of your hallucinations.
You nodded, keeping your mouth firmly shut. She smiled and kissed your cheek, careful not to hurt you.
After that, you parted ways without speaking much. She made her leave first, eyeing the hallway before strutting away leaving you in the dim corner of the closet room, parched for more.
It didn’t take long for you to find a way to be with her again. As soon as she entered the familiar room that was collecting dust for the past couple of weeks, you shoved her on the wall, your hands frantically wandering all over her until they settled on the collar of her dress, your lips never leaving hers. “What took you so long?” you panted, lips detaching from her mouth that she so eagerly tried to chase but you latched onto her neck, she didn’t seem to mind.
She chose not to answer, her hand finding purchase on your hips, pulling your body close to hers. Today, she didn’t mind being the one pinned on the wall, she didn’t mind how your hands were wrinkling her dress as you pushed them up to her hip and fondling her breasts over the fabric and you liked it. You loved it. You craved control. 
It was hot, it was messy, none of your actions were calculated like before and she let you suck anywhere you desired, let you bite her skin until a flashy bruise formed. She let you worship her with brutality and she made sure you knew she enjoyed it by moaning right into your ears, a hand fisting on your hair to pull you whenever she needed to kiss you.
When her underwear dropped and it pooled around one ankle, you made a note to scoop it out later, for now you wasted no time running the tips of your fingers along her slit, gathering the thick juice to her clit and massaging the poor little bud until it was swollen and sensitive. Larissa’s breath shallowed, her mouth hanging open as she watched you play with her cunt, one leg wrapped around your waist. 
“Fuck me.” she demanded through gritted teeth, grinding her pussy against your fingers, “You forgot your manners, darling? Ask nicely now.” oh, how the tables have turned. Her gaze hardened, and it was enough, you decided it was enough. You plunged three fingers into her, finding her walls to be slick and hot and just immediately clenching around your fingers. She hissed through the pain of the sudden movement. She stilled your wrist once it all disappeared into her.
“What’s the matter now? Can’t take it all in, mommy?” you were truly pushing your luck here…
Instead of answering, she fucking crashed her lips to your lips, it was bruising. You felt her teeth nibbling hard on your poor flesh until she bit you hard. You tasted blood. You retaliated by pumping your fingers, each time you hit her spot. It was her turn to look shocked. Her head was thrown back against the wall exposing the length of her throat, so deliciously tempting you to take a bite. Just a fucking bite. Your stomach tingled.
“Ah yes, yes, fuck!” she was being very vocal now, pulling you closer and closer until you were certain every part of you was pressed onto her. You felt her pulse acessended under your tongue as you lap at her throat, all the way down to her chest and nipping on the swell of her breasts before you took one of those pink buds in your mouth. She cried, urging you to do the same to the other. You happily obliged.
“Fuck, I’m going to come. Yes. Yes, make me cum, baby. Make mommy so proud.” she mumbled against your ears before she pulled you into another kiss. Her cunt felt unbearably full.
She came all over your fingers, her wet, hot slick coating the whole span of your fingers. 
When everything settled down, and your breaths returned to normal and both were mentally recollected, the other woman started to fix her dress buttoning it all the way up and straightening her dress. It took her a couple of minutes looking for her underwear. She wasn’t going to wear it, not with all the filth in this room  it had probably collected; she just needed it. And there you were, leaning on the opposite wall with her black underwear in your hand. She tried to snatch it away but you were fast to move it away from her.
“Nah-uh, finders keepers.” flashing her one of your most irritating smiles, she rolled her eyes.
“Asshole.”
“Is that the finest insult you could come up with? Or did I just fuck you dumb that it’s the only thing you can remember, darling?”
Larissa chose to ignore you. She knew better than to engage with your after-fuck conversations. But oh, you weren’t quite finished yet, it appeared that you had a lot to say. 
“I’m sure he won’t notice you’re missing a piece. He’s not like keeping track of your underwear, right? That would be too creepy.” you chuckled right onto her reddening face.
“You–” she started but never finished when you stepped closer and cupped her pussy, the palm of your hand rubbing hard against her clit. Her hips betrayed her when she voluntarily responded and whimpered. After making sure your fingers were wet enough you pulled it out of her, “Open” and for some unknown reason she did and you shoved your middle and ring finger into her mouth.
“Good girl. Suck it all off, dearest.” from the many times she made you suck her fingers after she fucked you, you now understood where her addiction came from. It felt exhilarating, her tongue running and swirling around your fingers, sucking her own cum off. It was so dirty and fuck, you loved it.
You shared a kiss once more, tasting the salty and sweet essence of her sex.
When she got out, you quickly followed behind, patting your pocket where you hid your precious cargo.
And then you both weren’t so alone anymore. The doors opened and parents piled out of the classrooms together with their sons and daughters, some faces you were familiar with after subsituting, “Honey, where have you been?” a man in his late forties towered over Larissa, he had his hand around her forearm pulling her to the side. “Oh, there was a long line in the restroom. Forgive me, darling.” she placed a hand on his chest and smiled. “What happened to the rest of the presentation?”
You could hear them exchanging words and affectionately touching each other, then she bent down and scooped her son into her arms congratulating him 
You knew her son–little Nikki–he was a sweet, bright child. You smiled and waved at him. He waved back. Larissa followed the direction in which her son was looking, so did her husband. 
Your eyes met very briefly before she turned, “You did such a great job there, sweetie. Now, where would you like to celebrate?” and just like that, you watched the picture perfect family leave. Not once did Larissa turn to look at you. Something inside you broke.
In the teacher’s lounge, you stared at the coffee in front of you, mentally counting the days until she visited again for a PTA meeting. You knew she would come. It was after all, where you saw her first.
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8-0mph · 1 year ago
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Will Fox!Betty ever get her memories back? How does her and Simon’s dynamic evolve?
Hmm. The main reason Betty was put in Ooo as a fox was because Prismo wanted her to continue living on, and needed to disguise her so the auditors cannot find her.
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Due to this she has no memories, theyre all locked away in Golb, her “true” body. Because of this she is very conflicted in her new identity, she feels like she is trapped in the wrong body but cant quite figure out what her old body was.
Their first meeting isnt a good impression. Simon just had all of his notes stolen by a band of foxes and sees fox!Betty as a culprit. He is always trying to shoo her away or ignore her, and is pretty harsh towards her. He warms up to her once she manages to steal the notes back from the foxes with Simon’s help.
When fox!Betty tries to remember the past, or sees photos of her human self in Simon’s room, it gives her headaches. Though as she starts to live with Simon more she receives flashes of her past life-only barely. Especially when he rambles on about his past to her.
Update: Fox!Betty only transforms into a human form when sleeping/unconscious. Sometimes she will have fox ears or a tail depending on how deep the sleep is. The first time Simon notices this, he assumes he is hallucinating. He doesnt find out about her human form until later on. He refuses to let her stay in his room, so he avoids seeing her in this form for a while.
I havent decided where fox!Betty and Simon will go, but I like to think that when they do find out her true identity.. things are very awkward. He was under the impression that she was just an annoying stranger crashing at his place and occasionally helping him out, so it makes things complicated. And fox!Betty doesnt have the memories of Simon that she feels shes supposed to have.
At this point Simon has moved on with his life and mostly pushed away his feelings for Betty down to a manageable level, so he feels like all that progress is being torn down now that shes here. In this strange form.
Simon doesnt find out fox!Betty is Betty for a bit, he recognizes some similarities between the two. They become actually pretty good buddies.. after a while.
The two of them need to learn to accept each other. Simon accepting this is the way Betty will be, and Betty accepting her new form. Maybe then things will change, like beauty and the beast.. without the romance. Lol. Just kidding I like angst so it will end tragically somehow.
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shijiujun · 6 months ago
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some extra tidbits from the ending of the princess royal in the novel
i do so love when dramas drop the last 8 episodes in a fit a week in advance heh - binge watched the last 10 episodes and ZHAO JINMAI she's so underrated - she 500% portrayed every single crying scene so fucking well omg hard stan istg she needs to be in more historical dramas!! ANYWAY since they ended only on the wedding, here're some cute tidbits from the novel:
li chuan does come back with zhen zhen and THEIR SON li xun a few years later when he's done recording the map, and li rong tries to convince him to leave li xun in the imperial city but li chuan knows imperial city life is not for him, his son, or his little fam so they leave after
as having a female emperor is way too scandalous right, so as with the last episode, li chuan actually takes the throne but on the official day of him taking over, he leaves and leaves a note for li rong to basically be princess regent, and then the excuse he uses is that he will lock himself up in some temple or something to recuperate and rest, and this excuse works for YEARS lmao - then after he comes back and leaves, think he realizes that he really needs to make it official for his sister, so he leaves a edict that passes the throne on to li rong for reals
li rong's first kid is a princess!!! second kid is a son, and princess is actually the crown princess in the future!!!
it's not really shown and i think they changed the script from the lines in the novel, but the last part when li rong asks the emperor's eunuch laifu/fulai (?) who he actually works for or is loyal to, in the drama he said he of course is loyal for the emperor, but in the novel, he said he's loyal to "First Young Master" - and then afterwards when everything has sort of finished he seems to call Pei Wenxuan "First Young Master" (?!) maybe i was hallucinating by then but i recalled being real intrigued LOL and it would explain why the eunuch so readily admitted to PWX that the emperor's health is deteriorating. there's no backstory for that tho hmm
su ronghua actually has to leave the imperial city for a few years because he is after all now head of a criminal family due to su rongqing's rebellion, and as promised, he takes the su family out of the city and he trains the next head of the su family for a few years, and once that's done, he returns to shangguan ya and marries her then
pei wenxuan and li rong continue to bicker and banter for decades after - their younger son who sees his parents arguing for the first time and li rong threatening to divorce pei wenxuan runs to his older sister in a panic, and the older sister is like what? that's normal and everything's fine, but at the boy's insistence, she goes with him to try to "mediate" the argument btw their parents only to arrive and see their parents already PDA-ing with each other, thread of divorce forgotten and their daughter rolls her eyes and tells her brother "all these years do you know how many divorce threats i've heard coming from our parents" LOL
anw super happy with this little sunshine of a drama!! a little sads for su rongqing ;-; UNREQUITED LOVE i cri cri and all the suffering he went through ;-; but every other bad guy who died yall deserve it
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daydream-believin · 5 months ago
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Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]
[Next Chapter]
notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)
series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.
or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.
chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao
word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)
warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty
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You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.
Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.
Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.
And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.
On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.
“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.
Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?
Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.
***
The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.
The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.
There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.
That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.
 I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.
You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.
The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.
You took another look back at the table as you walked away.
Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?
Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.
A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.
That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.
“You like that one, do ya?”
You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.
“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”
“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter..  liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”
The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.
“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.
“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”
Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.
So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.
You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.
It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.
Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.
Deeply afraid.
Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.
You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.
Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.
***
Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.
You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.
“zZz-Hurricane—“
Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.
“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.
And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,
“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”
You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.
You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.
THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.
THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.
THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.
You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.
I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?
Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.
Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.
You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.
The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.
You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.
Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.
That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.
***
Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.
The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.
“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.
Well, guess you’re holding on a second.
Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.
That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.
After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.
“Table for two?”
You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.
“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”
Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”
She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.
She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.
The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.
“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”
That... wasn’t your concern.
You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.
You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.
Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.
But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.
You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.
That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.
“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”
“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”
“In Utah?”
Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.
“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”
After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.
Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.
You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.
Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.
You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.
So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.
You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.
Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.
***
You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.
Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.
“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.
You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.
“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.
Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…
Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.
Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.
“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”
Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.
If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.
“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”
When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??
Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?
The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.
Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.
You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.
“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”
He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.
“…435-555-1987?”
You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.
Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.
You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.
“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?
“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.
“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.
It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.
“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”
You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.
“Hello? Are you there?”
“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.
“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”
“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”
You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”
you cursed under your breath.
“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.
“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”
“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”
… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.
“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”
“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”
“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.
“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”
“Uh-huh,”
“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”
“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”
You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.
“Do you know where you live?”
He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”
Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.
“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”
“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.
“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”
“Uh-huh,”
“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.
After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.
Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.
The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.
God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—
Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.
“I’m sorry about that,”
“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.
“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.
He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.
“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.
“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.
“Nah, that’s it” you were too nauseous to eat right now.
You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you.  The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.
“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.
She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”
You furiously nodded in confusion,
“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”
You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.
You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.
And.
Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.
You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.
Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.
You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.
As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.
You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.
Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.
God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.
There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.
Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.
You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.
Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.
You had to get rid of that bear.
***
You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.
You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.
A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.
God, you wished you could just skip town.
You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.
You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.
Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?
If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.
In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.
Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...
The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.
You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.
The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.
But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.
You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.
As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.
“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.
The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:
A drone shot of Zion national park
Old men golfing
Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses
Rock archways
A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,
“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.
Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool
A Navajo cultural event
More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs
Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you
Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played
Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…
The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”
Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.
***
Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.
Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.
There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.
It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!
***
Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.
But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.
The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.
You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.
You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.
What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.
You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.
You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.
***
Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.
If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.
You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.
Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.
The door was locked.
You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.
He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.
You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.
Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.
Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.
“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,
It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”
How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.
“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.
“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”
“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”
“Jesus Christ! WHY.”
Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.
“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”
“I really don’t have any money to spar--”
“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.
A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.
“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.
“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”
He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”
“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”
“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.
 You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,
“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”
“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)
The door slammed in your face.
Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.
Okay.
Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.
Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.
Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.
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animentality · 1 year ago
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i'll never get over the fact that we were originally going to get to visit the upper city because i KNOW gortash has a giant fancy mansion up there, there's no way he doesn't, and it kills me that we don't get to see it
so i turn to you as the source of so many wonderful gortash thoughts: what do you think his house would be like? over the top ostentatious? filled with alarms and traps or weird gadgets? a very normal dungeon in the basement maybe? what's your vision?
all i feel sure about is that he definitely bought it with jannath money (lol) and also that he gave a room to durge, so durge could have a space that is truly theirs for once (even though ironically they barely use it because they always sleep in gortash's bed anyway.. though they might keep a few things in there they don't want orin getting to? hmm)
you know, since we are hallucinating together, let me propose...
it's a ridiculous Jannath style manor, with the most hideously gaudy decorations ever. He would rival Cazador in being DEATHLY gauche.
but I agree that he's home alone trapped his house. He'd have bombs under every goddamn window.
He'd have silent detection trip alarms to alert him if someone had crossed the premises (let's call it magic). I suspect he'd have his weird little sentient magic guard dogs running around too, maybe prototypes.
They'd fuck your shit up. Which could've made his house a really fun zone, if you were trying to sneak in, and avoid his roaming guards.
I imagine he'd have maybe 2, 3 floors? Including an attic, full of memorabilia?
And sure, a basement.
You should be able to find like, I don't know, paintings of the Dark Urge in the attic. Maybe more in detail letters. Maybe his more private thoughts and feelings and plans. Something in reference to his contract with Raphael. Maybe he has things he stole from Orin that used to belong to you, things his poor Banite underlings had to suffer death and dismemberment for. This could be weapons, magical items you nicked from Mephistopheles' vault... maybe something nice Gortash sent them. Locket, necklace, rings?
Hmmm.
A ring with his initials carved into it...
Anyway, his basement would be a workshop.
Full of prototypes and gadgets and doohickies.
He should have a mad scientist lair in there.
ALSO I love your idea of the dark urge having a room in there, that's clearly never used, since they're always in his bed, but it should definitely have private items they don't want any Bhaalist seeing.
Maybe things Gortash has given them. Little inventions, like clocks and toy soldiers and replicas of animals that move. Maybe a gnoll he hand carved, lol.
Just...just little pieces...of who they used to be, before they lost their memories ;-;
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lemon-natalia · 9 months ago
Text
Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 6
even immortal Lyctors have to deal with work meetings, no wonder she’s pissed off if she’s been dealing with Teams meetings for ten thousand years straight
this is Mercymorn! she doesn’t seem very impressed by Ianthe or Harrow. ‘sacred hand’ isn’t too bad, but if my job title was ‘holy thumb’ i think i’d quit
ooh i didn’t connect it before, but Harrow wrote a letter for if her eyes changed - and thats specifically a sign of becoming a Lyctor!
i mean Harrow is relatively young, but i feel like to someone ten thousand years old anyones gonna feel like a baby after a while. also imagine Mercy's reaction if Isaac had managed to become a Lyctor lol
Mercymorn reminds Ianthe of her mother? wow i don’t think i want to meet Mrs Tridentarius
ok, so the Erebos isn’t actually his seat like i had assumed, thats somewhere else
‘his close personal interest in this war’ well yeah he’s the Emperor i would hope he's invested in it
the Emperor hugging Mercymorn and her freezing up - feels like theres an interesting dynamic there
‘I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow’ great! if you could give some handy exposition so the reader could also know, that would be brilliant
the last person Harrow called ‘teacher’ turned out to be a vengeful ghost, so this doesn’t feel great
did he just resurrect that random Cohort member??
the Body looking at the Emperor … it just occurred to me that she might not just be a hallucination of Harrow, but maybe she made some kind of actual mental connection with the Locked Tomb body
oooh the drama between Mercy & Augustine, now i want a Lyctor soap opera
we know that Harrow told herself via letter to never give up the sword, but i think its interesting that the Emperor is letting her keep it
ok so all the water & magma metaphors are an explanation for how they’re able to travel so far in such a short space of time - kind of like Star Wars hyperspace travel, except actually given an explanation lol
‘voyaging nervously into the chamber of another person’s brain’ another person, not specifically Ortus here, hmm
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My Reaction To “The Edge Of Sleep” Show
Spoilers below obviously
ep 1
so was Dave like unknowingly being prepared for this tragedy??? that’s my first thought about what’s happening
ep 2
I actually understand Katie’s view cuz she just believes Dave has disrespected her wishes. I’m glad once he’s there she reacts somewhat well considering
ep 3
this brings up the question if life is worth it even with extreme pain each second. it’s a good question to start discussion about from both those experiencing the pain and those caring for them. primarily the former talking to those around them about their feelings on it.
ah so perhaps I was correct about my ep 1 theory ha
ep 4
I’m so glad Dave talked to Katie finally. I’m also glad someone finally talked to Ruth. Their reactions are all understandable and I really appreciate that.
This concept is so cool and the execution is so well done. God I’m so glad to be watching this now. I’m checking out the podcast after this for sure. Never had the attention span for it before, but I’m hooked now.
Did Mark do Larry and sing by the way? I swear I’m hearing him everywhere lol. It’s so cool seeing his name in the introduction credits. Also the way we slowly understand more of them as we watch is 10/10
ep 5
Trying to figure out if the whale or elephant is good is hard cuz it seems obvious but what if it isnt?
Oh no they crash though…. right? Damn I’m so hyped to know what’s up.
oh my god the choice to make it like falling asleep as a viewer was so good Holy crap
it’s a hard thing to exert energy to stay awake but not so much you lose any energy to stay awake… as someone with insomnia this is a battle I am too intimately aware of
I’m so glad this is the cast. It’s so well picked for each role cuz they’re killing it.
NOOOO NOT THE POOR WORDING
ep 6
woah new intro.
is he dreaming awake now too? oh no.
Holy hyuck Matteo is going through it.
oh no there’s concerning sh info I really hope nobody uses it hyuck.
two hours. yall got this.
Holy thwip water landing okay so not a crash technically??
HEAD BETWEEN KNEES MFS WHAT ARE YOU DOING (ik theyre out of it but ahhhhh)
Holy crap they survived Holy crap all of them
we love abandoned islands lol
oh no hallucinations.
I just realized is the elephant wearing a red dress? its too bright to be a monk-inspired robe right?
I wonder if this is all one island or if its shots mixed together to look like one.
These people are so strong Holy crap. Handling literal torture
it is a red dress!!
oooooo love raw power let’s hyucking go.
Would Katie really want that?
it’s interesting that the elephant needs him…. the fact it can’t just take control… hmm
they made it!!!!
what?
okay much more sense context wise now with so many survivors.
Safet okay. Interesting the name has safe in it. Sounds like prophet too.
This is suuuuch cult thwip.
lol are they real like bro its the actual whales
oh lord. war? more torture sigh.
he’s not gonna take “all as it should be” well
that room has got to be hot as hell tf
so much fire is not safe yall
oh hell no what the hyuck
OH NO KATIE NO
post series
I want to see what’s next so bad omg yes.
Podcast time!!!
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colorisbyshe · 2 months ago
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anyone have any good audiobook recs? listening to the dragona ge podcast has gotten me a bit re-interested in narrative based listening
i'd prefer this specifically be an AUDIObook rec, so not just a recent book you liked, but an audiobook you actually listened to
the exception being if you think a book would REALLY excel as an audiobook like you're REALLY confident
it odesn't have to hit all or even most of these bullet points but i'm just trying to make recs less scattershot
standalone book OR if it's part of a series, i'm not missing out if i stop here
want fiction, not non-fiction
hmmm, fantasy preferred but mysteries are also fine, sci fi is good although i'm not feeling space-y sci fi rn
preferably about women and/or gay people OR is written by a woman and/or gay person
doesn't have to be tho
DOES absolutely hve to be PRIMARILY about ADULTS not teens, unless there's aging wtihin the story (like starts off about teens but bulk of story is about adults as time passes)
strong characters more than strong plot, though both is good
hmm... maybe rn more medium paced rather than slower stories but if it's a good story ANY pace is fine
i do... enjoy romance subplots or at least the space to hallucinate some romantic/sexual tension
any tone is fun, dark or light, but not... too comedic or whedon-y if you know what i mean? not too self aware tee hee we think the genre is silly but we love it type writing.
IF THE AUTHOR HAS BEEN ACCUSED OF HEAVY CRIMES RECENTLY (or.... ever?? unless it's ike smoking weed lol) DO NOT REC THEM TO ME
BASICALLY FANTASY ABOUT ADULTS AND NOT TOO HEAVY A 'READ' BUT I'M LOOSEY GOOSEY
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anatheyma · 18 days ago
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17 & 18
17. a fact about my life
i'm very impulsive. and it puts me in situations. moved out at 19, across the country, because i really wanted to hang out more with my gf at the time (she dumped me a few months later lmao) then after that i moved across the country again because my roommate was like "i gotta move to [redacted] to continue my studies" and i was like cool. then jokingly suggested i come with since i didn't really have anything left in the previous city and i thought "what the hell, sure". also every time i've traveled abroad or gone to concerts etc. 9 out of 10 times it's been an impulse decision. a joke. "should i go? lol" and then suddenly i've got the tickets. but i regret nothing :) it's exciting not knowing exactly where i'll be this time next year. this makes it sound like i have a lot of money to spend; i really don't. i'm just not too into material stuff. i save for experiences. then eat macaroni for 2 weeks straight in order to compensate /hj
18. phobia
hmm. i fear many things, but i'm unsure which ones count as phobias. one major one is insects, i suppose, but i've been trying my best to overcome it. i've been trying to take them outside instead of panicking and crushing them. they have done nothing wrong, i just get a weird bodily reaction. i'm guessing it can be related to the reoccurring visual hallucinations i had as a kid. bugs crawling on my skin was a part of it.
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7, 11, and 15 for the religious ask game!
I see you went with some banger questions lol. I expected nothing less from you hehehe
7) If you could change one thing about your faith community, what would it be?: Hmm. Changing 1 thing is hard. Not because I like hate the church or something but because one thing is related to another thing which is related to another. But, in order to encapsulate as many as possible, my answer is that everyone would earnestly and humbly search the scriptures for the truth (because as Esau McCaulley said, nobody reads the bible anymore) while also being open and tolerant of heterodox interpretations.
11) Have you ever considered converting to another faith?: Not really? I've always been interested in religion and different religious philosophies and thoughts and traditions, but I've also never seen a religion and been like "That one trumps mine" it's always more like "Ooh, there is some wisdom there I would like to incorporate into my faith". In my experience, no other religion has what mine has. Or this or this or this or this and I could go on for a while but you get the point lol. I am willing to stake everything on the idea that (1) there is 1 God and (2) God is Love. The only way that works is the trinity, and only Christians teach it so *shrugs*. So I just accept whatever wisdom others have to offer but could never leave and convert.
15) Have you ever had a divine experience?: Because my philosophy is the way it is I am always attempting to be having a divine experience. Some (following William James) believe mysticism is about visions and experiences, but I think it is "beliefs and practices that concerns the preparation for, the consciousness of, and the reaction to what can be described as the immediate or direct presence of God." (Bernard McGinn) Okay I like just went off on (and deleted) an entire tangent about union with God and perfect love and stuff lol. If anyone's interested just watch this short video.
But I know that what yall really want is something crazy and wild lol. So I have had breathing problems (nothing life threatening, dw) for as long as I can remember. Still do. I remember one particular night, it was pretty bad. Like aching and hurting bad. I couldn't breathe at all through my nose and I was scared if i went to sleep that I would just like stop breathing. Well, i was exhausted but fighting sleep so i wouldn't like die. But then, sometime during the night, I saw what I swear to this day was 3 messengers coming thru my window (window closed so like *thru* the window). No wings or anything, they seemed to be made of light and air. Two of them put there hands on my head, one of them put what appeared to be a gas mask on my face. And then.... I was out. Like a light. Slept and then woke up and I was completely better.
I know a skeptics first thought is "You were sick and exhausted so it's just a hallucination" and I suppose that's true. But the same can be said for Julian of Norwich, Joan of Arc, and John the Visionary, all of whose mystical experiences I believe wholeheartedly. I was in an intermundane place, at an intermundane hour, in an intermundane state of mind, the same environments that I know write poetry in, so it makes sense to me that the veil would slip and I'd be able to see something like this. Even as a young child (or rather, especially as a young child) I was always seeking ever closer intimate relationship with God and was raised with an awareness of the presence of God everywhere. There many things I've seen and heard from my childhood that I have since cast away as charismatic rubbish (no offense to any charismatics out there), but this experience is not one of them.
Edit: dancing in the rain while listening to Experience by Ludovico Einaudi is still the most spiritual experience I have ever had to date. So good I immediately wrote a poem about it. I was in heaven and on earth at the same time and it was marvelous.
Anyway, this was fun thank you for the questions <3333
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bleue-flora · 6 months ago
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you know, the whole thing with "the disc in ctommy's basement" made me think a little, cause, well, cdream doesn't have a pov and we can't be 100% sure whether he built all this and left the disk there or not + the base for the room was made by ceryn half a month before tommy went there fell, it just looked way different: it was more like an ugly altar for cdream or smth, he even said that he wants ctommy to be thrown in prison for this to give him purpose in life idk why
so here is my theory: cdream ended up in ctommy's basement for whatever reasons and was like 'ew, what is this? this me-themed basement look like shit!' and decided to built his own version of it with an evil disc and a scarier room and all that😋
Omg that’s funny I like this theory - ‘yeah this basement is just not evil enough really tainting my reputation *considers adding a Skeppy cage* hmm maybe some triggering blocks and a creepy disc? Mm that’s better >;)…
Honesty I didnt even think about Dream stumbling across Eryn’s shrine but he would probably be so weirded out by it lol. He’s just digging under Tommy’s house to make a trap and *boom* comes across a room with a big statue of him XD… I wonder what he’d feel in that moment? Would he laugh? Would he cry that not everyone hates him?…
Anyways, I’ve honestly played around with a couple theories for the spooky disc room. The most fitting being that Dream left it to scare Tommy into not coming after him. Another fun one is that Tommy hallucinated it, which I like a lot since he probably hallucinated the signs at Philza’s if nothing else. And one where Punz is the one to leave the disc, though that seems less likely since it’s Dream’s recording, unless Dream made the disc and hired Punz to put it there… now I’m thinking about Punz coming across Eryn’s shrine lol XD. (Though I suppose they saw the one in the prison at some point too.)
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tennessoui · 2 years ago
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Hey Kit,
the Twitter deaddoveobikin posted their newest prompt and no joke, my first thought was that you would love them. 😁
lol you are like the third person to send this to me and you all are right, i would love this but who knows if i'll have time so kit fic speed run:
day one - oh definitely the angel to demon!anakin and priest obi-wan idea i just posted; feels very classic priest/temptation of them both, especially because once anakin is a demon, obi-wan is consciously letting himself be seduced by a creature of sin....he's just so weak when it comes to anakin (pairs well with this priest obi-wan au ficlet. wrote last year)
day two - ok hmm both obi-wan and anakin are angels but anakin begins to fall in love with a human, padmé. obi-wan cannot let his heavenly brother sin in such a way because then he would be cast out and obi-wan cannot lose him, so he researches a strict and sexy routine to help banish anakin's impure thoughts through self-punishment and strict focus on his angelic duties which really is in practice basically angelic bdsm especially when obi-wan decides anakin isn't taking the self-flagellation seriously enough so takes over for him. anakin definitely stops thinking about the woman on earth that's for sure
day three - good omens au 100% next question. one of the twins is the antichrist, but neither demon obi-wan or angel anakin can figure out which one is which, so the only solution is to raise them both together in the same house for observational purposes. they probably should have sprung for two beds, but they weren't really thinking about that!
day four - ok so religious rituals hm feels like.....they both lose their kyber crystals at the same time some time in the clone wars so have to go to Ilum to get two more....but this time the trials they face/the tricks the caves throw at them are different this time around. both of them have vivid fantasies of the other one seducing/fucking them on the cave floor and they have to shake it off to continue forward and get their crystal.....both manage the first time to throw the hallucination off.....the second time is much harder to shake because it's not actually a hallucination at all and they've just actually run into each other in the caves and decide to indulge in the fantasy....with their very real partner (their new kybers are white, you know, like--- )
day five - you know what i could see gffa, never found by the jedi!anakin becoming a cult leader entirely by accident because he's so powerful and magnetic in the Force that people bend to his will easily and become followers....he takes over tatooine from jabba and the hutts, and obi-wan is sent as a jedi on a mission to determine the Skywalker's threat level to the galaxy, the Republic, and the Jedi Order itself because this man is teaching people about the Force, but it's wrong and twisted.....obi-wan writes back that he has never met a more dangerous soul...obi-wan also quickly finds himself in the young man's bed as his wife to be
day six - lol it's giving me like. 5 times the team accidentally fuck nasty in a place considered holy/sacred by the locals of the planet, and 1 time they're asked to fuck on an altar in a ritual to decide if a planet joins the Republic or the Separatists
day seven - on the seventh day, she rested 😌
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