#this is why i hate rodents

[kakusu-shipping]

I can't decide if I should be funny and write Cap as a leering Perv possessive kind of guy or stick closer to his personality and have him be a gentleman/chivalrous kind of guy.

[drrandombear]

THERE HE IS! THE REASON I DECIDED TO WATCH THIS SHOW His design is just mwah so beautiful also hes a little gremlin man Red head Oz is a wonderful design please i love it so much (also his can is snazzy as hell) Fight scene pics cause I love him

[chiropterx]

She watches him run, low to the ground and... bizarre in a way that would almost be adorable if the motherfucker didn't keep landing his villainous ass in her apartment. "GET OUT!" she bellows, and this time, she swings one of those "white lady chic" cinnamon brooms at him.

It's useless, but it smells festive.

"Out!"

He scurries to safety as far as he can get away from this malicious woman but he's trapped again, walls on all sides preventing Man-Bat from escaping into the night. Not only is she loud but she's carrying another one of those hard sticks, a long thing made for beating that hurts and, if anything, is worse than the one she used to hit him last time. “▅▅▄▄▃▃▂▂!!!” WHACK! Man-Bat squeaks as her aim strikes true, sweet burning scent of something peppery hitting his nose harder than the bristles of her weapon. She shouts again, clearly wanting him gone but he's hard-pressed to leave, instinct bringing back to this location once again. W̶H̷A̶C̶K̵!̷!̸! That smell...! Man-Bat chitters, no longer striking back with his wings as the burning scent assaults his senses again. This fight is lost and, low to the ground, scurry-hops his way past the ferocious female, doing his best to avoid another stinging whack of her broom.

[tired-inyxe]

I have 2 snakes and when I saw this I IMMEDIATELY thought it was a Live Feeding Incident(tm)

I am watching a mouse make a series of what I can only describe as Fuck Around Choices, and the Find Out is VERY excited to continue this little experiment.

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

Why do I always get weird traumatic dreams that involve me fucking something up so badly that I can’t do anything about it, leading to everyone thinking I did it on purpose and ostracizing me forever

[sportygothic]

s1e7

[longroadstonowhere]

i can already tell i���m in a slightly better place than i was earlier this week because i can hear a housemate moving our trash/recycling bins back into place for the week and my back isn’t instantly tensing up

[hellsitegenetics]

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banned from BLAST for being too sexy trans supportive forever

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homestuck

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thank you for reading! as a treat, enjoy this Lamprocapnos spectabilis, or Bleeding Heart flower.

[teyums]

a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭

neteyam x human!reader

It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.

The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.

Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.

Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.

“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.

“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.

“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.

Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.

“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.

“GET IT OUT!”

He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

[sonicboomrevisited]

A Sonic Boom Revisited Short Story:

"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

Written by @mama-qwerty with editing and inspiration from @multiisketch

Art by @multiisketch

Colors by @star-stages and @multiisketch

NOTE: This story is NON-CANON to the SBR comic itself and is purely for holiday fun! Please Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twas the morning before Christmas and all through the lair, not a creature was stirring, not even–

"An eclair!" Cubot said, in an enthusiastic mood.

Orbot protested. "An elcair's not a creature, it's food!"

"Exactly!” said Cubot, hands on his hips. “That's why it ain't stirrin!"

Orbot scoffed. “Oh enough with your quips.”

The stockings were hung by the exhaust port with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be–

"Married!" Cubot shouted, sounding quite proud.

"Santa’s already married, for crying out loud.” Orbot sighed and shook his head in frustration. “Can you please be quiet and allow the narration?”

Quite. Anyway... the robots were nestled and charging in stations, while visions of sugar plums danc’d in their processing units.

"Hey," Cubot said, the word dragging out long. “Those words don’t rhyme, you’re doing it wrong!"

Rhyming is hard, and not something that’s forced. So you’ll deal with my attempts, for better or worst.

The robots went silent, exchanging a look. It always seemed easy when reading the book. They returned to the tinsel hanging duties assigned, when in walked the dastardly Robo-Sonic, his boss close behind.

"I just don't understand, truly at all, why those rodents won’t fight!" said Dr. Eggman, standing tall.

“Because they’re losers who know they won’t win,” Robo-Sonic said, his voice confident, and edged with a grin. “Seriously, Boss, it’s the smartest thing they’ve done. Why would they fight when they know that we’ve won?”

“It’s the principle!” Eggman shouted, his hands clenched in fists. “If they won’t fight, then I won’t . . . won’t . . .”

He threw his hands up. “Ya know what? I’m not doing this rhyming thing. Nope.”

But–

“NO.” Eggman crossed his arms, his lips pulled into a tight line.

How are we gonna tell a Christmas story without that well known rhyming couplet setup?

“Much better, because we won’t be locked into short little oddly worded sentences for the sake of rhyming.”

Ouch.

“Go on,” Eggman said, giving his hand a dismissive flick. “Just let it flow naturally.”

Fine.

“Oh come now, don’t pout.”

I’m not pouting.

“Then go ‘not pout’ somewhere else so we can get on with things.”

“Geez, Boss,” Cubot said, shaking his head. “That’s not very Christmas-y.”

“Quiet down, you imbecile, or I’ll remove your head.”

“That rhymed,” Orbot said with a shrug. “Although you technically rhymed ‘head’ with ‘head’.”

“Nevermind!” Eggman said, moving to his console and flicking some switches. The monitor along the back wall flared to life and scenes from the village dominated the screen. “As I was saying, if those rodents won’t fight me, I won’t get a good workout for my various inventions.”

Robo-Sonic turned to him. “So?”

“So, fighting so-called heroes is the best way for villains to work the kinks out of their dastardly plans and evil robots. It’s the first thing they teach you in villain college.” He turned suddenly, his voice edged with defensive anger. “Which I totally graduated from, thank you very much.”

Robo-Sonic flicked his ocular LEDs toward the ceiling. “Okay, so why won’t they fight? Other than the obvious reason that they’ll lose, I mean.”

Eggman tapped a few places on his control panel and twisted a dial. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough.

The screen flickered and centered on Meh Burger where Amy, Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks sat at a table.

“Are we still going to your place for Christmas Eve, Amy?” Tails asked. He poked at his burger. “It may be a good way to take our minds off . . . you know.”

“The fact that Sonic’s been turned into a glorified Eggman bot who hates us and wants to pound us into the dirt?” Knuckles asked, his voice low and frustrated. The others looked at him, their expressions a combination of annoyed and hurt. “What? I’m just summing it up in case you forgot.”

“We didn’t.” Tails’ ears flicked backward, and he looked away.

Knuckles seemed to sense he’d really stepped in it, and turned his attention back to his half-eaten burger. He let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

“I don’t know if I should bother this year. It won’t be the same without Sonic,” Amy said, pushing her burger away and resting her crossed arms on the table. “We always baked cookies together.” A little smile curled her lips. “When he wasn’t trying to eat the batter, that is.”

“We’d always make popcorn strands,” Knuckles said, shaking his head with a smile. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Tails pushed his burger away, fiddling with his gloves. “We would trim the tree together. The lights were always my favorite part, and every year we’d fight over who put the star on top.” His ears flicked back. “This year was his turn.”

Silence fell over the group. Sticks looked between the others.

“Well I say we don’t let this get us down!” she said, pounding her fists on the table. “I say we get together and have the best Christmas Eve ever! We’ll show that Eggman and his new little robot henchman that they can’t stifle our spirits!”

She turned directly toward the camera filming them and shook her fist.

“YA HEAR THAT, YOU BIG CLOD! WE AIN’T BENDING!”

In the lair, Eggman let out a little yelp before cutting the feed, the screen going black. “That badger’s pretty astute for someone who thinks her doorknobs are alien spies.”

“Who’s she calling a henchman?” Robo-Sonic said, hands clenching into fists.

Eggman absently rubbed his chin with a hand. “Quiet, you.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Eggman’s brow furrowed slightly as he paced back and forth before the console. “Hmm . . . so the rodents are feeling all sad because their little blue rat is now my number two. That sadness is preventing them from really bringing their A-game during battles with me.”

“Perhaps you could offer to return Robo-Sonic to them for Christmas Eve,” Orbot suggested, hovering closer. “That way they can feel more motivated to fight when next you appear.”

Eggman whirled on him. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting I simply give Robo-Sonic over to those insipid rodents? All because they miss him so much?”

Orbot flinched back, as Robo-Sonic looked on, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know!” Eggman said, holding a finger up. “Maybe I’ll be a gracious arch-nemesis and offer to let Robo-Sonic fraternise with them for Christmas Eve, just to refuel the hope of getting their friend back and reignite that fighting spirit, before dashing their misplaced hopes to bits during my next attack! Ho ho, that is brilliant!”

“Yes, sir, very clever,” Orbot said with a sigh.

“Hey now,” Robo-Sonic said, hands on hips. “Who says I want to go back and ‘fraternise’ with those losers?”

Eggman turned to him, brows furrowed. “You’ll go and you’ll play nice. Because while you’re there you’re going to collect any information you can on weaknesses–other than you, of course–or soft spots I can use to my advantage in future battles.”

Robo-Sonic threw his hands up in exasperation. “But I already know their weaknesses and soft spots! I can tell you that right now!”

Eggman held up a hand. “Upp upp upp! Everyone knows that Christmas is when people show their softer sides and reveal hidden thoughts and desires no one knows the rest of the year. It goes hand in hand with Christmas miracles, holiday spirit and putting differences aside to show that not everyone’s all bad and all that touchy feely stuff.”

The doctor went to his desk, yanked open a drawer, and fished around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled card. He scribbled something inside, stuffed it into an envelope, and stepped over to slap it onto Robo-Sonic’s hands.

“There you are,” he said, patting the robot on the top of his rocket booster. “Off you go. Spread holiday cheer with your ex-friends, and then come back here and dish on the gossip you learn.”

Robo-Sonic heaved the robot equivalent of a sigh, before turning and heading toward the door.

“OH WAIT!”

He turned back to see Eggman digging through another drawer, before pulling something out and rushing over to him. The doctor slapped a gift sticker right above Robo-Sonic’s visor and adjusted a Santa hat on top of his head.

“There!” Eggman said, stepping back and perching his hands on his hips. “Ooh, you look so festive!” He waved in a dismissive manner. “Okay, get outta here. Go be merry and trim the tinsel and ginger the bread or whatever it is you people do during the holidays. Shoo!”

With an electronic groan, Robo-Sonic turned and drudged away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams drew Amy from her book, and she hurried out of her house, hammer in hand. The chatter from her communicator indicated the others were on their way to investigate the trouble, too.

She hoped it wasn’t Eggman. While she never liked fighting Eggman in the past, at least it had been a little fun. Now it was painful. Seeing what the man had done to Sonic hurt her heart. And she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him, even if he was a robot now, and had no qualms on hurting them.

And, based on how lackluster the fights were when Eggman did attack, the others felt the same way.

As she neared the center of the village–seriously, everything always seemed to happen right in the middle of town–she found the chaos somewhat comforting. It was familiar and a good fight with the Lightning Bolt Society, or Barker, or even Shadow may help dissipate some of the anxiety that had twisted her stomach since Sonic changed.

When the fleeing villagers scattered, she skidded to a halt.

Sonic was standing in the middle of the town, arms crossed, and wearing a . . . Santa hat?

A quick flick of her eyes caught no sign of Eggman himself or any other attacking robots. Sonic–Robo-Sonic, she reminded herself–stood with his back to her, tapping his foot in that familiar impatient way that always made him look like he was waiting for a bus that was fifteen minutes late.

“Amy!”

Knuckles’ voice called out. Both she and Robo-Sonic turned to see him rushing over to her. He stopped a step in front of her, taking up a defensive stance, fists at the ready.

“Where’s Eggman?” the echidna asked, his brow furrowed and voice uncharacteristically serious. He didn’t like fighting Son–ROBO-Sonic any more than Amy did, and preferred to head straight for the doctor when attacks happened.

The quicker they took out the doc, the quicker he retreated and took the robot version of their friend with him.

“I don’t know,” she said, gripping her hammer tightly. “All I see is him.”

Tails and Sticks arrived soon after, each wearing similar expressions of confusion.

“This isn’t like Eggman,” Tails said, holding his wrench before him like a staff. “He doesn’t usually send robots without being there himself to gloat and claim early victories.”

“Finally,” Robo-Sonic said, rolling his head back in a familiar expression of exasperation. “You’re all here. Cripes, take a little longer, why don’tcha. It’s not like I can die of old age or anything.”

“What do you want?” Knuckles all but growled, baring his fangs. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you take the holidays off from being a jerk?”

Robo-Sonic mostly ignored him and stalked forward. Knuckles threw an arm out, keeping Amy back. When the robot hedgehog stopped before them, he reached into his metal quills and pulled out an envelope. He thrust it forward, toward Amy, and Knuckles tensed.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment. Amy flicked her eyes from Robo-Sonic’s ocular visor, to the little gift sticker attached to his forehead, right below the brim of the Santa hat. Instead of a “To” and “From” note, it bore Eggman’s logo, as if he’d branded the robot before sending him to the village.

Her eyes then dropped to the envelope in his hand. When she made no move to reach for it, Robo-Sonic uttered what sounded like a sigh.

“Just take it, Ames.”

She flinched at the familiar nickname coming from a digital voice box. After a moment, she gently pushed Knuckles’ arm to the side, and plucked the envelope from Robo-Sonic’s hand. Keeping her eyes on the robotic hedgehog, she tore it open, before looking down as she pulled a battered card from the paper.

The front showed an image of Eggman dressed in a Santa suit, Cubot and Orbot beside him with little antlers on their heads. He had a large sack thrown over his shoulder. Above him read “Evil Season’s Greetings!”

She rolled her eyes.

Inside, she found a handwritten note, undoubtedly from Eggman himself.

"Dear Rodents, 

Since you insist on being frustratingly avoidant when fighting my newest bestie Robo-Sonic, I have deemed it acceptable to allow him to be returned to you for 24 hours. Make it count and bring your A-Game to the next fight! Happy Holidays! 

Love, Dr. Eggman."

Amy reread the note three times, before flicking her eyes back up to Robo-Sonic. He stood with his arms crossed and he, and Knuckles who also stood with his arms crossed, seemed to be having a glaring contest.

“So, wait,” she said, drawing their attention. “You’re here to spend Christmas Eve with us?”

Robo-Sonic heaved an electronic sigh. “Apparently.”

Amy exchanged a look with Tails.

“You don’t actually expect us to believe this, do you?” the fox said, hands on hips. “Like we’re supposed to just throw our arms open and pretend like everything’s normal?”

“I think he’s here to spy on us,” Sticks said, eyes narrowed and flicking back and forth. “He’s here to discover our deepest secrets, our hidden hopes and dreams!”

“Not my eggnog recipe!” Knuckles cried, hands to the side of his head.

“Knuckles, that’s just milk and eggs, mostly,” Amy said with a sigh.

He cast her a raised eyebrow. “Eggs?”

“Nevermind.”

“Look,” Robo-Sonic said, holding his hands up. “As stimulating as this conversation is, I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. But the boss said you get me for 24 hours and the clock’s ticking, so, whatever you wanna do with that time is on your head. If you want to just stand here and argue about it, be my guest.”

The group exchanged looks again. Amy gave him a tight little smile.

“‘Scuse us for a minute.”

She motioned for the others to follow her a few feet away, and lowered into a huddle.

“This is a trick,” Knuckles said, looking over his shoulder toward Robo-Sonic. “No way he’s not here for evil reasons.”

“I hate to admit it, but I agree,” Tails said, shaking his head. “Sonic’s not our friend anymore. As much as I want to believe he’s here because he wants to be, I think this is some kind of trap.”

“Of course it’s a trap!” Sticks said, gripping her boomerang tightly. “It’s obvious he’s here to steal our Christmas spirit, and maybe even all our decorations and presents and even our last can of Who Hash!”

Tails gave her a raised eyebrow. “Our what?”

“Nothin’.” Sticks narrowed her eyes, looking around suspiciously. “I’ve said too much.”

“Okay, look,” Amy said, drawing their attention. “I don’t think he’s here of his own free will either. But maybe we can use this to our advantage. If we do things we used to do with Sonic on past Christmases, maybe he’ll remember who he really is and come back to us!”

Tails shot a look over at Robo-Sonic, who was giving the evil eye . . . well, evil LED to any villagers who came too near. “I dunno, Amy . . .”

“C’mon Tails, we have to try.”

The others looked at her before exchanging a glance between themselves. Finally, they turned back and nodded. Although, they didn’t look very happy or sure about it.

She didn’t care. If there was a chance to get her . . . their Sonic back, she’d take it. As slim as it was.

She nodded back, before standing upright and moving toward the robot hedgehog once again. Knuckles was right next to her. She could feel how tense he was.

“Okay, Son–I mean, Robo-Sonic,” she said, stopping with her hands on her hips. “If you’re gonna be here, there are going to be a few rules.” She counted off on her fingers. “Rule number one, no fighting. Rule number two, no insulting us. Rule number three, you have to actually participate and not simply sit and sulk the whole time.”

His ocular LEDs narrowed for a moment. “And if I refuse these stupid rules?”

Amy shrugged. “Then we’ll just send you back to Eggman’s. You’ll have failed your mission and ruined Christmas for your new ‘boss’.”

He stood and glared at her for a long moment, before rolling his head to the side. “Fine.”

A smile curled her lips. “Good.” She clapped her hands together, giving a little squeal of excitement. “Oh, this will be fun!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not, in fact, ‘fun’.

It had been hours. Hours of trying to have a normal Christmas Eve.

They’d all gathered at Amy’s house, as they did every year. She hadn’t been in a very festive mood after everything that had happened with Sonic, so the house wasn’t as decorated as she normally did. Knuckles and Sticks had helped pull her decorations out of storage, working to create a more appropriate holiday atmosphere, as Tails set about trimming the tree.

Supper was awkward. She’d made everyone’s favorite. Even the sweet potato chili dogs Sonic liked. But, being a robot now, he couldn’t eat them.

Okay, no problem, she could work around that.

But he spent the entire time glaring at Knuckles, who glared right back. Amy had shot the echidna a warning glance, and he’d sheepishly turned his eyes away, but the mood had been set.

After supper, she cleaned up the dishes as Tails helped Knuckles make popcorn for this year’s garlands. With a little coaxing, Amy had encouraged Knuckles to try and follow his tradition with Robo-Sonic.

It didn’t go well.

Robo-Sonic couldn’t string the popcorn before his metal fingers crushed the kernels. After five minutes, the floor around him was littered with broken bits of popcorn. Knuckles, for his part, tried to extend a hand of friendship, so to speak, citing that he knew what it was like to deal with more strength than you need most of the time. He tried to help Robo-Sonic pull it back so he could work with the popcorn without crushing it.

Things only went further south when Robo-Sonic revealed, in a fit of frustration stemming from the continued crunching of the kernels, that he never liked making the garlands–a waste of perfectly good popcorn, he claimed–and only did it so Knuckles wouldn’t look like an idiot doing it by himself.

The echidna gasped, eyes wide, before running from the room in tears. “Not cool, Robo-Sonic!”

Sticks fared a little better. She was always suspicious of wrapped presents–”You don’t know what’s inside! It’s not safe!”--so Robo-Sonic used his scanners to examine every one. He announced, loudly, what each box contained. This soothed the badger’s suspicions, until he announced what the gifts she’d brought held.

“Those boxes were supposed to be lead lined! X-ray proof! So’s the aliens couldn’t see what I got and report my preferences and kindness to their leaders, taking me hostage when they come to rule!”

And off she went, presumably to find whomever had sold her the supposedly impervious boxes, and deal some angry feral badger damage to them.

Tails was hit worst. He had brought the tree decorations, and hoped to have his and Sonic’s tradition at least somewhat salvaged. It started okay, but when it was time to put the lights up, Robo-Sonic took them from the fox and wrapped them around the tree in three seconds flat.

“Oh,” Tails said, ears flicking back. “We usually do that together.”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “It’s not exactly a two-man job, kid. It’s done, now.”

“Right.” Tails reached across himself to tightly grip his arm. “G-good job.”

The fox quietly left soon after.

That left Amy.

She tried. She really did.

She pulled out the ingredients for the cookies she and Sonic baked every year. But there was no laughter as they mixed the ingredients together. No trying to keep him from dipping his fingers into the batter. No slapping his hands away as she tried to roll out the dough.

Robo-Sonic was focused and efficient. The cookies went in without issue.

“You’re really not him anymore, are you?” she asked, her voice soft.

He turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m better.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No. No you’re not.”

Amy turned, hoping to be out of the house before the first tears fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic watched her leave, just like all the others had left.

He didn’t care. The less he had to deal with these losers, the better. He was only here because Eggman practically ordered him to be. He wasn’t enjoying this. He didn’t care about these stupid traditions and little holiday scenes the others insisted on.

He should leave. They all left, so apparently they didn’t care if he was here or not. He should just go back to Eggman’s lair, tell him the mission was a failure because these rodents couldn’t accept that he wasn’t the weak loser they remembered. They’d have a good laugh at the overly sentimental nature of these fools and that would be that.

He took a few steps toward the door, intending to do just that.

Then he stopped.

Turned and watched the oven timer tick down.

Less than ten minutes before the cookies were done. There was no one else in the house. He had no idea when they’d be back.

If he left and they didn’t return for a long time after, the cookies would burn.

The house might burn.

If these losers wouldn’t give him a decent fight because they were ‘sad’ about his change (his improvement), then they certainly wouldn’t be up for any challenging battles should Amy’s house burn down on Christmas Eve.

He could wait ten minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is worse than when we thought he was gone,” Tails said, curling his namesakes around himself. He let out a long sigh. “This feels like a cruel joke.”

The group had met up near Sonic’s old shack. Knuckles stood with his back to the porch post, arms crossed. Tails sat on the front steps, staring out into the ocean as the waves licked the beach below. Sticks sat on the ground nearby, legs crossed beneath her, an angry pout on her face.

And Amy stood a little apart from them, staring into Sonic’s shack. The moon was full tonight, and lit the area enough to see.

The shack stood dark and empty, like it had since Sonic was changed.

“I’m sorry guys,” she said, her voice soft. “I thought . . . I thought if he was in a familiar place, if he was surrounded by his friends, doing things he loved, then he’d remember.”

“It was a nice try, Ames,” Knuckles said, rubbing a hand over his face. “But he’s not him anymore.”

She pulled her lips tight. “No. I guess he’s not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Popcorn was strewn all over the floor. Some were crunched from being stepped on, but most broken because of his metal fingers.

He looked down at his fingers now.

Sharp and cold. He couldn’t really feel anything now. Oh sure, there were pressure points on the outside plating, giving him the approximate sensation of ‘touch’. But he couldn’t feel.

The fingers curled into a fist.

Nevermind.

That wasn’t important. He was better. Stronger.

His LEDs flicked back down to the floor.

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Amy to clean up this mess, and he knew Knuckles likely wouldn’t help. Seemed a waste to throw out all that popcorn, though.

He checked his internal clock. Seven more minutes until the cookies were done.

He had time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He didn’t even try,” Amy said, moving to sit next to Tails. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. “He said he would try and he didn’t.”

“Actually,” Tails said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He said he wouldn’t fight, insult us, or sulk. That’s not really the same thing as trying.”

“But he promised he’d participate!” she said, and even to her own ears it sounded ridiculous. “He . . . he promised.”

“I guess he technically did participate,” Knuckles said with a shrug. “He was just being an irritable and impatient jerk about it.”

“On the bright side,” Sticks said, tilting her head to the side. “He did reveal a horrible injustice done to me by those shysters who sold me those boxes. I made sure they wouldn’t cheat anyone else like that!”

The others sighed, the mood not exactly feeling any lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic stood before the tree. The popcorn was all cleaned up, and now he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the wrapped presents strewn about, where Sticks had let them drop as he’d examined each one.

With a soft electronic sigh, he bent to gather them, stacking them neatly.

He picked up the final two, which were identically shaped, only with different wrapping. One was addressed to Tails, the other to him.

Well, to the weaker version of him, anyway.

He’d scanned them before, when Sticks had requested, and discovered they held matching scarves. Yellow for him, blue for Tails.

Probably hand crocheted by Amy herself. She liked to do that kind of thing.

He didn’t know why she bothered. That took a lot of time; it was easier to simply buy a scarf. They weren’t that expensive, really.

He stared at the boxes for a long moment, before placing them on the stack.

Glancing up, he flicked his LEDs over the tree at the lights he’d strung earlier.

They bothered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just . . .” Amy said, burying her face in her hands. “I hoped there was something left of him. Something that showed our Sonic was still in there.”

Silence answered her. It hung heavy before Tails gave a little sigh, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I did too, Amy. I really did. He’s . . . he was my best friend. The idea that he’s gone is . . . well, it’s hard to accept.”

She nodded. “It’s so strange. He seems so much like the Sonic we remember, but . . . not.” She sighed, a harsh, frustrated sound. “I wish Eggman hadn’t sent him here. It’s making everything worse.”

Tails’ hand gripped her a little tighter. Knuckles moved to sit on her other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“We could pay Eggman a visit and deck his halls, if that would make you feel better,” he said, a little smile curling one side of his mouth. “Want me to leave a knuckle sandwich in his stocking?”

Amy gave a soft giggle, shaking her head. “As tempting as that is, I don’t want to ruin anything any more than it already is. It’s bad enough that–” She gasped, her eyes going wide. “THE COOKIES! I completely forgot about them!”

She shot to her feet and ran toward her house with the others close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no oh no oh no!” Amy nearly whined as she burst into her kitchen. She expected a house full of black smoke, possibly even flames shooting from her oven, but she stopped dead when there was no oppressive heat of an uncontrolled fire, no choking smoke threatening to smother her. “What?”

The others screeched to a halt behind her, piling up and nearly knocking her over.

The scene that met them was one she would not have believed just fifteen minutes ago.

Robo-Sonic was pulling the cookie sheets from the oven. He turned and placed them on towels he’d set out to protect her counters, before looking up and finding himself with company.

“Well look who decided to finally show back up,” he said, flicking the oven off and turning to plant his hands on his hips. “Figures you guys would all take off and leave me to do all the clean up.”

Silence answered him as the others stared. Amy’s gaze fell to the cookies currently cooling on her counter. “You . . . you stayed to take them out?”

He shrugged. “Boss said I had to stay, so I stayed. I’m used to picking up the slack for you los–” He caught himself. He’d promised not to insult them. “You left. The cookies were done. I pulled ‘em out. The end.”

Amy stared. This . . . this wasn’t what she expected.

“Hey,” Knuckles said, pointing to the other counter. “What are those?”

All eyes turned to a plate stacked with popcorn balls. Robo-Sonic shrugged as he pulled them over to place on the center island counter behind the cooling cookies.

“Ames would have had a fit if I threw away perfectly good popcorn,” he said, stepping back to lean against the counter. “So I made those.”

“Huh, that’s weird.” Knuckles stepped forward to pick up one of the popcorn balls. “How did you get the string to do that?” He took a bite, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! That’s really good! And no string to get stuck in my teeth!”

Robo-Sonic shrugged again. “Amy always has a bag of marshmallows hidden away. Thinks I don’t know about it. She uses them to sweeten her coffee. Which I always thought was gross, but whatever. Figured I’d use ‘em to make something better than those stupid garlands.”

Amy blinked. Sonic would regularly raid her cabinets, so it wasn’t a surprise he knew about her secret mallow stash, but the way he was talking . . . the things he did while they were gone . . .

This was absolutely not what she expected.

“Hey, what happened to the tree?” Tails’ voice cut through her musings. They looked into the living room where the tree stood dark. “Where are the lights?”

“Took ‘em off.” Robo-Sonic’s voice sounded almost bored, like there was an implied shrug even if his shoulders didn’t move. “They were bugging me. Not strung right. Some spots had the same colored lights all bunched up. I’m not good with that kinda detail stuff.”

More silence, and Amy dared to hope. Dared to think that her Sonic, their Sonic, really was still in there.

“Do you . . .” Tails started, his voice small and shaky. “Do you want to try again? I can make sure the colors are adequately distributed this time.”

Robo-Sonic stood still for a moment, as though contemplating. Amy expected a sharp retort. An annoyed “Fine” or “Whatever”.

But instead, the robot offered a simple, “Sure.”

A little smile curled her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just before midnight.

Wrapping paper was strewn about, tossed carelessly as the annual gift exchange had taken place. The gang sat on the floor before the tree–now properly trimmed and lit, thanks to Tails’ careful calculations of the optimal placement of the various colored lights–with the star perched atop. Robo-Sonic had placed it there, in keeping with his and Tails’ tradition.

Now soft snores floated over the living room. Sticks, Knuckles, and Tails were fast asleep, their gifts piled nearby, while Amy and Robo-Sonic sat a little further away, their backs against the couch.

Amy wanted to break the silence. Needed to break it. The longer they sat like that, the longer it went without at least trying to get through to him, the more she’d beat herself up over it later.

This was the perfect chance to try and bring him around. To try and reach the Sonic she knew was still in there.

After another moment of hesitation, she cleared her throat.

“I suppose I need to send a thank you note to Eggman,” she said, her voice soft. “For letting you come tonight.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “You always were a stickler for manners.”

She swallowed, turning her head away slightly. The familiarity he spoke with. He knew her. As much as she tried to convince herself that he wasn’t any different from Metal Sonic, that he was just some robot who’d copied Sonic’s personality . . . she couldn’t fully believe that.

She spared another glance in his direction. The yellow scarf she’d crocheted him was fastened around his neck. When he and Tails had opened those gifts he’d hesitated before putting it on, but finally tied it in place, much to Tails’ delight. Sonic never looked right without that trademark scarf around his neck.

The color contrasted with the red Santa hat still perched on his head. Her eyes flicked back to that gift label above his visor. Eggman’s logo seemed to glare at her, a stark reminder that he was here on borrowed time. 

Another silent moment passed, and she turned away again. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. Hardly above a whisper.

“Stay.”

“No.”

The response was immediate. He didn’t even consider it.

“Why?” She turned back to him sharply, her tone pleading. “Why do you hate us so much?”

He turned his head away from her for a moment, before turning back. “Because you’re weak.”

“We’re stronger together.” She turned to him more fully and tried to pull back the pleading tone. “We were always stronger with you.”

“I can’t carry the whole team, Ames,” he said, his tone hard. “I can’t do what needs done if I’m worrying about the rest of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy said, and hated how pathetic her voice sounded even to her own ears. “Doing what needs done? What needs done is keeping Eggman from ruining everything, from destroying everything we love. We did that! And now you’re helping him. I just . . . I don’t understand.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead looking over where the others slept. Amy watched him for a few moments, before turning away when she decided he likely wasn’t going to answer.

“Sometimes protection isn’t just about bashing some bots and calling it a day,” he said, his voice softer. “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to focus on the bigger picture.”

She stared at him, her brows furrowed. “What’s the bigger picture?”

He went quiet again, and this time it felt more final. Like whatever information she was going to get out of him had been said.

The two sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, Amy spoke, her voice a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Sonic.”

He didn’t respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time ticked on. Robo-Sonic watched the others sleep. He didn’t need to sleep anymore, although he sometimes went into standby mode. Not a ‘sleep’ in the traditional sense, but something that let him kind of ‘drift’.

Beside him, Amy’s breathing evened out, changing to a deeper, slower rhythm. He turned and found her head tilted against the couch, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.

He watched her for a long moment.

Moving before he even knew he was, Robo-Sonic stood and gently lifted her, placing her on the couch and positioning a pillow beneath her head. She stirred slightly, and he froze, before she settled back into a comfortable position, her breathing deepening.

Pulling the afghan from the back of the couch, he draped it over her, tucking her in.

“Merry Christmas, Ames.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning.

The sun filtered in through the windows, pulling Amy from her sleep. She sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she got her bearings. It took a moment before the events of last night caught up with her, and she looked around, catching no sign of Robo-Sonic.

He must have gone back to Eggman’s.

With a sigh, she flipped the afghan back, preparing to head to the kitchen to start breakfast before the others woke. That’s when her eyes landed on a small stack of gifts on the coffee table, still unopened.

Her brow furrowed. That was odd. She could have sworn they’d opened all the presents last night.

Moving closer, she immediately recognized the sloppy, somewhat hurried wrapping style of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

She distinctly remembered helping Sonic pick out gifts months ago, in an attempt to keep him from being caught empty-handed come Christmas Eve. (Something that had happened on more than one occasion.) He must have wrapped them to have them done and ready back then.

But how . . .

Her eyes went wide.

Robo-Sonic must have gone back to Sonic’s shack and brought them here after she’d fallen asleep.

A little smile curled her lips. Her heart felt warmer than it had in months.

She had hope again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, the blue rat bot returns!” Eggman said. He turned from the breakfast table, still dressed in his long underwear. “How went the whole ‘give your ex-friends false hope so they’ll fight me with more gusto’ plan?”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “Fine.”

Eggman frowned. “Fine? That’s it? Just ‘fine’?”

Another shrug from the bot. “Yeah? Not sure what you want me to say.”

“Well, you could say that they spent the night bemoaning my successful plan to turn you into a robot; or that they tried to convince you to be some kind of double agent to get the goods on me in secret; or that they tried to appeal to your non-existent sense of loyalty to them in combination with the ‘spirit of Christmas’ to cast off your allegiance to me and rejoin them in their constant, infuriating destruction of every bot I painstakingly create!”

Robo-Sonic waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Eggman slammed his fists on the table, sending the silverware clattering. “Oh, you are just as infuriating now as you were when you were flesh and fur! I thought you were going to bring back some gossip or embarrassing tales of what happened!”

“What can I tell ya, Boss,” the robot said as he began to wander off. “Just a boring Christmas Eve. Same old, same old. Just like all the others.”

Eggman scowled. “Then what’s with the scarf?”

Robo-Sonic froze. The scarf. He’d forgotten he had it on. “What about it?”

The doctor smirked. “Seems a little sentimental, don’t you think? A lovingly hand knitted scarf from your little girlfriend.”

Robo-Sonic turned sharply, red LEDs narrowed. “She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s crocheted.”

Eggman scoffed. “My, my. Aren’t we touchy?”

The robot hedgehog uttered a little growl, before stalking toward the doctor. He yanked the scarf off his neck and slapped it on the table. “Whatever. I don’t need it.”

Eggman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure nothing happened back there?”

Robo-Sonic let out a soft scoff as he turned and walked away. “Nothing worth reporting.”

Eggman watched him go with a frown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic walked down a long hallway, the walls a polished steel here. He pushed the thoughts of last night away.

It was just a mission. He was sent there to spy. To gather intel. To give false hope so those losers would fight harder when he and Eggman attacked next.

Because if they fought harder, they got stronger. They needed to be stronger.

He only acted the way he did last night to foster that sense of hope. That he was still the Sonic they remembered.

That was the only reason.

His hand curled into a fist.

The only reason.

But that scarf . . .

A voice in the back of his mind whispered. Said things he knew weren’t true. Tried to make him soft. Make him weak.

He stopped and turned to face one of the walls. They were polished to a near mirror finish. He stared at his reflection. The gift label was still stuck to his forehead and that stupid Santa hat still perched on his metal quills.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

He almost saw the hedgehog he once was.

With a growl, he yanked the hat off and tossed it to the ground, before tearing the sticker from above his visor. It shredded, leaving behind sticky paper strips. Figures Eggman would have the cheapest, most residue-y stickers on hand.

Last night had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone.

Uttering a growl that bordered on a yell, Robo-Sonic drew his fist back and punched the wall, leaving a deep dent in the metal at the impact.

“No more weakness. You had your chance. You failed. Now it’s my turn.”

Robo-Sonic withdrew his hand from the crumpled metal, and continued along his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Eggman said after Robo-Sonic had walked away. He slumped against the table with his chin in his hand.

Don’t pout.

“I’m not pouting!”

Seems a good place to end things, doncha think?

Eggman let out a frustrated grunt. “You wanna do the thing, don’t you?”

Wouldn’t be a Christmas story without it.

A long sigh. “Fine.”

And with Eggman pouting from not getting his way, Happy Christmas to all and to all a good day.

“I’m not pouting!”

Hush.

Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, and Happy Holidays to all!

[fvsm4x]

‚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐈‘𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧‘𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ‘ — 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐬

𝐜𝐰. Best friends to fwb / fwb! gojo satoru x fem! reader / one sided love? / smut / gojo is kinda a whore / jealousy / kinda angsty / 18+ content / oral (f receiving) / fingering / p in v / 5k words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠. : @starlightanyaaa @froufrousnowman @101strawberries101 @dazaisfavgf @the-lazy-perfectionist @maiiluvs @lukiaheart

November 26

The city skyline glittered under the moonlight, a sprawling array of lights against the night sky, painting a mesmerizing backdrop to the chaotic rhythm of the urban jungle. From your balcony, perched high above the city streets, you watched as life carried on below, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within you.

You picked up your phone, the screen glowing softly in the darkness, displaying a single message from him.

Satoru: you busy?

October 2

The neon lights of the bar flickered in the darkness, casting an ethereal glow over the crowded room on that Friday night. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the hum of conversation, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation. Lost in your own thoughts, you sat at the bar, nursing your drink in silence, observing the world around you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice drawled beside you, jolting you from your reverie.

Turning, you found Gojo Satoru sliding onto the stool beside you, his trademark smirk in place. “Can't say the feeling's mutual,” you retorted, taking a sip of your drink and pointedly ignoring him.

He chuckled, undeterred by your icy demeanor. “Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly.”

Rolling your eyes, you resisted the urge to scoff at his feeble attempt at charm. “Save it, Satoru. I've heard it all before.”

Raising an eyebrow, a hint of amusement danced in Gojo's eyes. “Touché. But you have to admit, we make quite the pair.”

You scoffed, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp. “Speak for yourself.”

As the night wore on, the tension between you grew, fueled by a potent combination of alcohol and unspoken desires. Arguing and bantering became your shared language, trading barbs and insults with the ease of long-time adversaries. But beneath the surface, a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born of attraction and longing, a tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure do spend a lot of time with me,” Gojo remarked, his lips quirking up into a sly grin.

“Maybe I just enjoy watching you make a fool of yourself,” you shot back, though the words rang hollow even to your own ears.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his breath fanned against your ear. “Or maybe you just can't resist me.”

You tensed at his proximity, the heat of his body sending a shiver down your spine. “Don't flatter yourself,” you replied, though the words lacked conviction.

He leaned back, his grin widening into a smirk. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't deny the truth in his words. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew you in against your better judgment.

“Why do you always have to be such a pain?” you muttered, though your words lacked the bite of true conviction.

He chuckled, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “Because it's fun.”

You swatted his hand away with a scowl, though your heart wasn't in it. “You're impossible.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And yet, you love me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as his gaze locked with yours. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned away from him.

“I could never lower my standards for a rodent like you.” you said, averting his gaze,

Gojo's smirk faltered for a moment, before he masked it with a nonchalant shrug. "Ouch, that hurts, (Y/N). I didn't realize I was dealing with such high standards."

You clenched your jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as you struggled to maintain your composure. "High standards? More like basic human decency," you shot back."You're not nearly as interesting as you think you are." You lied.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he studied you in silence for a moment. "Is that so?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, refusing to meet his gaze as you focused on the empty glass in front of you. "Yeah, it is," you spoke, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

With a heavy sigh, Gojo leaned back, "Such a meany“ he muttered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You chuckled, shaking your head at his dramatics. "Oh, please," you retorted, rolling your eyes. "You love it when I give you a hard time. Keeps you on your toes."

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, (Y/N)," he teased, "But deep down, you know you couldn't live without me."

You feigned a gag, a smile playing on your lips. "Don't flatter yourself, Satoru," you replied, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone. "I've managed just fine without you before, and I can do it again."

“Yeah, right,” he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned back against the bar.

You arched an eyebrow at his retort, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You doubt me, Satoru?" you replied, your voice dripping with mock indignation. "I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of thriving on my own."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Sure, sure," he said, his tone teasing. "But let's be honest, (Y/N). You'd miss me too much if I were gone."

You rolled your eyes, though there was a small kernel of truth in his words that you couldn't deny. "Yeah, right," you muttered, though the words lacked conviction.

As Gojo's phone buzzed with a notification, he glanced down and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. With a smirk, he tapped on the message, and his smirk widened into a grin as he turned the screen toward you.

"Look," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

You glanced at the screen, expecting to see a harmless message or maybe a meme, but your eyes widened in shock as the image loaded. It was a picture—no, several pictures—of a woman in various states of undress, her features blurred out but her intentions unmistakable.

Your jaw dropped, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to process what you were seeing. "Are those...?" you started, unable to form a coherent sentence as your mind raced with a million questions.

Gojo chuckled, his amusement evident as he scrolled through the messages. "Looks like someone's eager to get my attention," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You tore your gaze away from the screen, a mixture of embarrassment and anger bubbling beneath the surface. "That's disgusting," you muttered, unable to keep the disdain from your voice.

Gojo continued scrolling through the pictures, his expression shifting from amusement to mild annoyance. "Girls these days really are something else," he remarked, shaking his head,“I know i‘m handsome and allat but they need to chill out.“

You glanced at him with a deadpan expression. "Thats your fault," you replied, the words dripping with sarcasm.

He hummed in response, his attention still fixed on his phone. "You're not gonna go to her place after she sends you something like that?" you asked,

He shrugged, finally looking up from his phone. "Why should I?" he replied, his tone casual. "It's nothing new—I get pictures like that every day."

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief at his nonchalant attitude. "Ah, right. I forgot my best friend is a whore," you retorted, unable to stop the words from slipping out.

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a practiced smirk. "Hey, now," he protested, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I prefer the term 'charming ladies' man,' thank you very much."

You rolled your eyes at his flippant response, unable to hide the hurt that lingered just beneath the surface. "Yeah, well, whatever helps you sleep at night," you muttered,

He leaned in, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. "You know that I wouldn't leave you just to be in another woman's bed" he said, his voice softer. "I'd rather be here with you to be honest.“

"Thats not what happened before" you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "The past is the past, (Y/N)," he said, his tone sincere. "You're the most important person in my life except for suguru. I wouldn't leave you here hanging for some chick, especially when you‘re drunk."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. But all you saw was the familiar warmth and mischief that had always drawn you to him. Despite everything, you couldn't help but smile.

He chuckled, his hand still resting on your shoulder. "Seriously. I know it can be hard to deal with me sometimes but if you ever need anything, you know I'm here for you."

You nodded, appreciating the sincerity in his words. "Yeah, I know."

The moment was interrupted by another buzz from Gojo's phone. He glanced down and sighed, rolling his eyes. "Not again," he muttered,

"What now?" you asked, curious despite yourself.

He turned the screen toward you, revealing another message from the same woman. This time, it was a video—equally suggestive and equally unwelcome.

„Don't show me that—” you muttered, turning away from the screen,“could've just said that you got another pair of nudes send“

"I don't wanna be the only one seeing that, gotta share it with someone.“ he replied, while letting out a soft chuckle.

You sighed.

„Didn’t I already tell her that it was a one-time thing?" Gojo muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but snort at his predicament. "Looks like someone's not getting the hint."

He shook his head, quickly typing out a reply. "Some people just don't understand the word one-time thing," he grumbled,“I don't mind if women send me nudes though, it boosts my ego up.“ he replied with a chuckle after.

„Of course it does..“

You watched him for a moment, a thought forming in your mind. "Why don't you block her?" you suggested.

Gojo looked up, "I guess I could," he said slowly. "But that would be admitting defeat."

You rolled your eyes. "How would that admit your defeat? Only you would see it that way."

He chuckled, his fingers hovering over the block button. "Alright, fine." he said, finally pressing it. "She wasn't anything special anyways. I can always find a replacement for her.“

You rolled your eyes.

Gojo put his phone away and turned his full attention back to you. "So, what were we talking about before we were rudely interrupted?"

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "How much you adore me, I think."

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, right. That."

For the rest of the night, the conversation flowed easily between you. The barbs and insults remained, but they were laced with affection rather than frustration. The alcohol loosened your tongues and you found yourselves reminiscing about old times, sharing secrets, and laughing at inside jokes.

As the night drew to a close, you realized how much you valued these moments with Gojo. Despite his flaws and his infuriating arrogance, he was your best friend. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Walking out of the bar, you stumbled slightly, the effects of the alcohol making themselves known. Gojo steadied you with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Easy there," he teased. "Can't have my best friend falling over."

You leaned into his embrace, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Satoru," you murmured, your voice soft.

He looked down at you, "Anytime, (Y/N). Anytime."

The walk to your apartment was filled with laughter and playful banter, the cool night air doing little to sober you up. The alcohol had settled into your system, making your steps uneven and your thoughts a bit hazy. Gojo's arm remained around your shoulders, guiding you along the familiar path.

Finally, you reached your door, fumbling with the keys as you tried to unlock it. Gojo chuckled, taking the keys from your hand and smoothly opening the door.

"You'd be lost without me," he teased, his breath warm against your ear.

"Shut up," you muttered, but there was no real bite in your words.

Inside, you kicked off your shoes and stumbled toward the couch, collapsing onto it with a sigh. Gojo followed, sitting beside you and stretching his arms out along the back of the couch.

"Do you need help with getting to the bedroom?" he remarked, his voice softer now.

"No it's fine," you replied, closing your eyes for a moment. When you opened them, you found him staring at you, his blue eyes intense and unreadable.

"What?" you asked, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

"Nothing," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Just thinking how pretty you look even when you‘re drunk."

You rolled your eyes, but the compliment, however casual, warmed you. "You’re such a flirt," you said, your words slurring slightly.

"And you love it," he shot back, leaning in a bit closer.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way his gaze seemed to pull you in, but you found yourself leaning in too, your breath hitching as the space between you shrank. Before you could second-guess yourself, your lips met his in a tentative kiss.

-

November 26

Satoru: you busy?

It had been the same message countless times over the past months.

The memory of that first night flashed in your mind. It had been a typical Friday evening, and you and Gojo had decided to unwind at your favorite bar. You had always been close, best friends who shared everything from secrets to inside jokes. But that night, something had shifted.

Gojo had looked at you differently, his gaze lingering a bit longer, his touches more frequent. You had felt a spark, a pull that you couldn’t ignore. The drinks had flowed, loosening your inhibitions, and before you knew it, you were back at your apartment, your lips crashing into his.

The next morning, tangled in sheets and the aftermath of a night you couldn’t quite believe had happened, Gojo had suggested the arrangement.

“Let’s keep it casual,” he had said, his tone nonchalant but his eyes intense. “No strings, just fun. What do you think?”

Caught between the high of what had just happened and the fear of losing him, you had agreed. You told yourself it was a good idea, a way to enjoy each other without complicating your friendship. But as the weeks turned into a month, it became clear that things weren’t so simple.

You replied to his message, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing him.

You: "No, come over."

Minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Gojo standing there, his familiar grin in place. He stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He was always like this—effortlessly confident, always in control.

“Miss me?” he teased, slipping off his shoes and stepping closer.

You forced a smile. “Yeah.”

His gaze lingered at you for a moment before he chuckled. His hands found your waist, pulling you into a kiss. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you, but you knew better than to let yourself get lost in it. He was good at making you feel wanted, but there was a distance in his touch, a barrier you couldn’t breach.

As his lips moved against yours, you felt a familiar rush of heat. Gojo’s kisses were always intense, a blend of passion and skill that left you breathless. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a practiced ease that made your knees weak. For a moment, you let yourself forget, let yourself drown in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands roaming over your body.

But then, reality intruded. The knowledge that this was all it would ever be, that he would never give you more, clawed at the back of your mind. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Something wrong?” Gojo asked, his voice husky with desire.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, just… catching my breath.”

He smirked, his hands sliding down to your hips. “Then let’s keep going.”

He picked you up by the thighs, and walked to the bedroom with you in his arms. He laid you down on your back, and hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

He nibbled your neck, his hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, teasing your skin as they moved upwards towards your breasts. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You wanted him, needed him, but there was a part of you that longed for more than just the physical.

"You like that?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and filled with heat. "You like the way I make you feel?"

"Yes, Satoru," you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "I love it."

"Good," he growled, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I’want to hear you say my name."

You arched into his touch, your body alight with sensation. "S’toru," you moaned, the sound of his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he murmured, his lips trailing down your body, his hands working to remove your clothes with practiced ease. "I want you to remember this. Every touch, every kiss. I want you to crave me."

You shuddered beneath him, your body responding to his words and touch. He undressed you slowly, savoring every moment, his eyes dark with hunger. When you were finally bare before him, he paused to drink in the sight of you, his gaze intense and possessive.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, "So perfect."

Your heart ached at his words, knowing they were just a part of the game he played. But you let yourself believe them, if only for a moment. "S’toru," you whispered, your voice filled with need.

He smiled, a dark, predatory grin. "I know," he said, his hands sliding down your body, caressing every curve and dip. "I know exactly what you need."

He kissed his way down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, Satoru," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. "I need you. I need you inside.."

"Not yet," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief,“Want you to beg for it.“

You whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please," you repeated, your voice breaking. "Please, Satoru, I need you."

„More.“

You closed your eyes,“please, please s‘toru. Please.“ you begged.

He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. "Wasn’t so hard now was it?“ he said, his hands parting your thighs.

His fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. "S’ wet for me," he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. He slid a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal and spreading it over your clit. “All for me, right?”

You reopened your eyes and looked at him, only to find him staring at your body instead of your face. It reminded you that he was doing this only for pleasure. “Yeah, only for you,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you.

His finger moved in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “That’s right,” he said, his voice low and filled with satisfaction.

Your breath hitched as he increased the pressure, his touch expertly finding that perfect rhythm. “Satoru,” you moaned, your hips bucking against his hand.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I love the way you say my name,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Satoru,” you gasped, your voice a desperate plea. The sensation of his thumb on your clit, combined with the way his fingers teased your entrance, was driving you to the edge.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck. “Let go for me. Show me how much you need it.”

With a deliberate slowness that was both torturous and electrifying, he slipped a finger inside you. You cried out, the feeling of him filling you causing your body to arch off the bed. He started a slow, steady rhythm, his finger curling inside you to hit that spot that made you see stars.

“God, you’re so tight,” he murmured, adding a second finger. He moved them in and out of you, his pace unhurried, savoring the way you responded to his touch. “I could do this all night.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. But the pleasure was too intense, too consuming. With a cry, you came undone, your body trembling as you climaxed around his fingers.

He watched you intently, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. “Satoru, please,” you whispered, your voice filled with need.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire. “Don’t worry,” he said,

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers and shifted lower on the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he settled between them. The sight of him there, eyes dark with desire, made your heart race.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I bet you taste even better than you feel,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on you.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit with feather-light strokes that made you shiver. He started slow, savoring every reaction you gave him, before gradually increasing the pressure and speed. Your hips bucked against his mouth, a moan slipping from your lips as he licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck, Satoru,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to hold on.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You taste so good,” he muttered, his words muffled against your skin. He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it in a way that made your toes curl.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the tension building with every skilled movement of his tongue. He alternated between sucking and licking, his fingers slipping back inside you, pumping in rhythm with his mouth.

“More,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Satoru.”

He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he continued his relentless assault. “You like that?” he asked, his voice husky with arousal.

“Yes,” you moaned, your head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His tongue moved faster, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. The combination of his mouth and fingers was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. “Please,” you gasped, your body arching off the bed. “I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to taste you.”

With a final, shuddering cry, you came undone, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your hands gripping his hair as you rode out the pleasure. He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working you through every pulse and shiver, prolonging your release until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. He looked up at you, a satisfied smirk on his face. “You’re even more beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice rough with desire.

You lay there, panting and spent, your body still humming with aftershocks. “Satoru,” you murmured, reaching out for him.

He crawled back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy of it making your heart ache. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered against your lips. “Not even close.”

He pulled back from the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he murmured, “Turn around.”

You blinked up at him, a slight frown of confusion crossing your features. “What?”

“Turn around,” he repeated, his voice firm but not unkind. “Gonna take you from behind like always.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your heart clench. But you complied, rolling over onto your stomach and then up onto your knees, your body still thrumming with the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm.

He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, teasing and relentless.

You moaned in response, your body arching back toward him. “Please, Satoru.”

Without another word, he pushed into you, filling you completely in one smooth thrust. You cried out, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling before he started to move, his pace steady and controlled.

His hands tightened on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you. Each thrust was deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your vision blur. “God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “So tight.”

You whimpered, your body moving in time with his, the pleasure building once again. “S’toru,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you? When I take you from behind?”

“Yes,” you moaned, your body trembling with each thrust. “I love it.”

“Good,” he growled, his pace quickening. “Because I want to hear you scream my name.”

You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. “Satoru,” you cried out, your voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me. Let me feel you come around my cock.”

With a final, shuddering cry, you came undone, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He followed moments later, his own release spilling inside you as he groaned your name.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the feel of his weight pressing down on you. Then he pulled out and rolled onto his back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

You lay there, your body spent and trembling, your heart aching with a mixture of satisfaction and something more. “Satoru,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked over at you, his expression unreadable. “What is it?”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. But in the end, you just shook your head. “Nothing,” you murmured, closing your eyes.

“Good,” he said, his voice distant. “Get some rest.”

And as you lay there, your body still humming with the afterglow of pleasure, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you would ever have with him. The physical connection was undeniable, but the emotional distance felt like an insurmountable chasm.

But for now, you would take what you could get. Because even if it was just physical for him, for you, it was something more. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Gojo’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He sighed, reaching over to grab it.

“Yeah?” he answered, his voice returning to that familiar, nonchalant tone.

You could hear a faint voice on the other end, though you couldn’t make out the words. Gojo’s expression shifted, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with a more serious look.

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “I’ll be there soon.” He ended the call and turned to you, his demeanor already changing.

“I have to go,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

“Now?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling on his clothes with practiced efficiency. “Work stuff.”

You watched him dress, the familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. He was always slipping away, always leaving you with just a taste of what you wanted.

“Will I see you later?” you asked, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

He paused, looking at you with an expression that was hard to read. “Sure,” he said, though the word felt empty. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Be safe.”

He gave you a quick nod, his usual smirk flickering across his lips. “Always am.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The silence felt deafening, the weight of his absence pressing down on you.

You sighed, pulling the sheets around you as you tried to gather your thoughts. The physical connection with Gojo was incredible, but it always left you wanting more, longing for something deeper that he seemed unwilling or unable to give

© fvsm4x 2023/4 : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.

[red-garden]

Imagine a Peak Lord sleep over. They all get stuck in a room for 24 hours on their way to some Huan Hua Palace party and end up getting trapped instead.

For the entire time Shen Jiu is just feeling completely unsafe

YQY is happy he gets to spend a night with his Xiao Jiu

SQH is panicking because he was supposed to gather Intel at the party in Huan Hua.

Everyone else would probably be fine since they'd probably enjoy camping.

Like Liu Qingge would be assigned to hunt down food for the peak lords

The others would start cooking and seasoning the meet with local herbs. (And for someone like SJ whose meals come from MF it's really good food)

But I want to specifically focus on the angst part of SJ feeling unsafe especially when he has to go to sleep the following night because the majority of the people surrounding him are men.

So nervously in the middle of the night without realizing it he cuddles up to YQY for safety because it's muscle memory

Setup: endangered beasts is migrating on the path they need to take. They can’t disturb the beasts, so they’re just stuck in the middle of nowhere, during a storm.

This was not supposed to be a long trek- 3 days at most, which any cultivator at their level could handle without stopping. They didn’t bring tents or any other supplies for the road. Shen Jiu was completely miserable. He was wet, he was cold, he was hungry, and he was surrounded by his least favorite people on earth; his male coworkers.

Wei Qingwei and Mu Qingfang set about constructing shelter. The lord of Wan Jian was familiar with weaving from leather work and was able to pull together a water tight roof over a moderately sized wigwam of broken branches and vines. The size was not ideal. It was too short, too stuffy, and too small for a party of 7.

The Bai Zhan brute came back with edible berries and fruits- edible being the operative word. They were small, bitter, and full of stones. Shen Jiu wanted to vomit. The berries weren’t helping his nausea at sharing such a small space with so many men. Qi Qingqi wouldn’t help, there wasn’t a safe, gentle bone in her body.

Wei Qingwei, Mu Qingfang, and Qi Qingqi had fallen asleep in a rough pile, seemingly no care for propriety. Shang Qinghua, the rodent, was still fidgeting with nervous energy. He wouldn’t stop moving, didn’t get tired. Why did he have to stay awake? Why did he have to be aware?

The brute had posted himself outside the door. Apparently the elements didn’t bother him. He said it was to guard, but all Shen Jiu could think was that he was blocked in. He couldn’t get out of this too small place.

Yue Qi was meditating. Of course he was, too good to sleep and leave himself vulnerable in the presence of a snake like Shen Jiu. He was furthest from the sleepers and the rat, and Shen Jiu found himself edging closer and closer to him.

He jumped when a large, warm hand touched his shoulder. He pivoted, smacking Yue Qi away, glaring. Yue Qi gave him an apologetic look, unwilling to disturb the others’ sleep.

Yue Qi lifted the arm at his side, beckoning. Shen Jiu rolled his eyes. They weren’t children.

Yue Qi arched a brow. Shen Jiu…. Alright, maybe he was shivering. A lot. He didn’t like the cold, and he hated being wet even more. Even when they were young Yue Qi had run impossibly hot, his own personal furnace in the winter. Suddenly the spot under his arm was looking much more attractive.

Shen Jiu shot him another look. This doesn’t mean anything. Nevertheless, he scooted forward. Carefully leaving a centimeter of space between their bodies, he could still feel heat radiating. The smile Yue Qi gave him was something an overeager dog might when it was trying so hard not to jump.

He was too cold and too tired to meditate. In the morning, he was still under that arm. During the night he had slouched against Yue Qi’s body, held in place by unmoving posture and a plush bicep propping him up. Yue Qi still ran warm, like a guard dog, like a hearth, like a bed covered in quilts and furs in a house no one knew about. And If Shen Jiu pretended to sleep for a little longer, no one needed to know.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 2

You listen to the story about those woods. Turns out, real life is way, way nastier than any of those stories. Don't lose your head.

TW for the chapter: Blood, gore, dead bodies, slut shaming(usage of outdated horror tropes), knife play, blood play, mentions of STDs

— Do you know what animal is this? 

The body of a small creature – rodent, probably, you don’t think there could be any other animals around – was lying on the road near the place you decided to stay for the night. The “Coolest fucking thing in the world that is also just a few hours from here” was still a few hours from here because it was fucking dark and you already left your car on the sidewalk, hoping no one would steal it because honestly, why would anyone need this pile of burning crap. 

— According to the “Basic Bestiary of Austrian Animals” it might be an extremely rare Austrian Marmont.

You fucking hated Max. Mostly because his form of being different was “being an intelligent asshole” and also because he would never forget to rub the fact you were behind him in the grades into your face. 

— Waaaaaaait, a mamont? But it’s small! You have to give Karen – blonde, tan, tall, straight C everywhere except for her chest (then it would be D everywhere) – credit. As adorably silly as she was, she was still the only person you could have a meaningful conversation with. Except for the times when she was fucking your boyfriends. Or when she forgot that you don’t have a boyfriend so he doesn’t need to fuck random people just to spite you.

— Perhaps, if we are extremely lucky, a European edible dormouse, also known as…

— Fuuuuuck, people eat this thing? Yuck! Austria is like, literally the worst country EVER!

You feel like every second of this conversation, even though you are just listening to it, is going to take 10 years from your life span. You never knew why the two got together – maybe because Max loved fucking someone dumber than he is, and Gretchen loved placing the responsibility for her actions on her beloved sociopathic boyfriend. 

You wanted to say that this was literally a fucking squirrel, but you know better. Not like anyone is going to listen anyway. 

You get to the supposed location a few hours – already deep in the night, everything that you hate about forests – unkept environment, horrible living conditions, mosquitos, and occasionally wild animals are making you squirm each time your butt switches the place and you involuntarily sit on the cold, damp ground. You lick your lips, trying to adjust in the position in front of the fire. Fire that you probably shouldn’t be making in the middle of the private territory, but Chad said the place belongs to some weird hillbillies who wouldn’t care about a bunch of college grads having fun. 

You just finished the last of your coke – mixed with cheap whiskey and rum you got back at home, you feel just buzzy and fuzzy and relaxed enough to at least try to engage with people around you. Just didn’t want to make Jenny embarrassed – she was the one to vouch for you, even though you didn’t want to go camping with them. 

— I heard there is something happening in these woods. 

Everyone around you groans and you comply, groaning too. Chad has the worst storytelling voice and even Marty – the resident stoner of the group – is visibly unhappy about having to listen to his dumb jokes. Brace yourself for at least twenty minutes of dumb story with a cheap attempt to scare you. 

— You talk like those locals. What can be here except for drunkards? 

— Very fucking funny, Marty, I hope you laugh at people’s death too. 

Everyone groans again. 

— Shut up and let me finish! So, there is something hiding in those woods…legends…

— What legends? This place was built like 20 years ago. 

— Shut the fuck up, Max! It’s the legends before the town even was built. In those very forests…

— Forests? I thought it was like, just a suburban area. 

— It’s wild Austrian woods, why I would put you to adventure in the fucking suburbs? 

— You’re a suburb baby. 

— Shut it! God, I hate you guys. Alright, so…these woods are populated with…creatures. 

— Ooooh, like the mammoth we saw! 

— Karen, seriously, what the fuck? These woods are filled with motherfucking human-eating killers, not just some animals! 

— Then why do you say “creatures”? — Because it makes for a good fucking story! God, everyone, this is why none of you are studying creative writing! 

— Only your parents have money to pay for it. 

— This is why you all are fucking losers. Alright…god, I hate you. People went missing in these woods. Mostly tourists, never the local population – this is why police don’t care about it. Bodies were found, half-eaten, rotting under that very tree! 

— Which tree? There are like 10 of them just here. 

— More like 100. 

— Under every fucking tree! — That’s a lot of bodies. 

Chad groans, visibly aggressive. You just tilt your head to the side, only talking to him once before taking the last sip of your Coke and standing from your place. You wanted to take a chance to see those woods before you’d be going even deeper the next night – Chad was planning quite an adventure in the wilderness, to your dismay, and you wanted to have a chance to see the cool part of nature before you would grow tired of it. 

To your surprise, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Knowing the girl, she is far too innocent and dumb to be here – probably ran away to not listen to scary stories or got lost while trying to find a good place to pee. You sigh, feeling that it is your responsibility to pick her up – she is Marty’s girlfriend, but he is too stoned out to notice her disappearance yet. 

You stumble on your foot – alcohol makes you dizzy, makes you relaxed and smiley. You don’t even care that no one came to ask what the fuck you are doing – as far as you aware, they all can go and fuck themselves while you have a lot more fun things to do. Like searching for a drunk girl in the forest in the middle of the night…yeah, you really should work on your definition of fun. 

You already a good few minutes into the forest. Nothing but trees, not even a squirrel or a wolf pocking around to feast on yummy bodies. Not like you wanted to see a wolf, of course, but meeting with the wild life could be fun. You’d like to see a bear, for example. 

(And you will – just a bit later) 

— Karen? Karen, are you alright? You decide to scream for her once you are far enough from your friends that they won’t question why you are so concerned for her. Poor girl was obviously scared and you didn’t want to embarrass her even further, so you stroll through the woods, an empty bottle of coke in your hand – not sure why you didn’t threw it away. Littering isn’t nice, after all. 

— Karen? You’re scaring everyone, come out! 

You scream some more – she is probably lost, deep enough that she can’t even hear you. You try not to panic, try to be the reasonable friend – it’s usually Jenny’s task but here you are, trying to be the cool one of your friend group. You yell for Karen some more, listening closely to every little sound that could be easily taken as her whimper or cry for help. 

Nothing. 

Just how far can a scared drunk girl go? Probably not further away than you – you’re already starting to get tired and you knew that Sidhey got far drunker than you are. Which means she could lay here, somewhere, passed from the exhaustion, freezing, with forest animals feasting on her…no, no, you can’t think like that. She is fine, she has to be, or you are going to get into so much trouble with the police and her parents. You never told any of your families about the trip, so you wouldn’t want to get in trouble what ould require their assistance. 

You take a step into deeper part of the forest – and you think you saw a glimpse of…something. Metal, probably, might be her phone or that atrociour hair dye she is using to stop everyone from calling her a mouse. You also think you could hear a sound of someone breathing – heavily, gruffly, definitely a male, but you don’t really know how. You squint, trying to see through the trees. 

You see Karen. 

— Karen? God, you scared everyone…well, me. Where the fuck have you been? 

You smile and wave at her, your drunken state isn’t allowing you to see that, for some weird reason, she isn’t waving back. Or moving, so to speak. She stared at you with that terrified expression of hers and you tilt your head to the side, not udneratanding why is she like that. Something happened between her and others? 

You take another step back and Karen falls. 

Well…her head falls, anyway. 

There are a lot of feelings right now. Panic, panic, panic, a little bit of panic and, oh, who could have guessed, another riel of panic which makes you freak the fuck out and sprint – towards her. Maybe she will be alive if you could put her head back on her neck really-really fast? 

— Is it too late to convince you this is all a dream? 

The voice. 

You don’t recognize it – it’s distorted and quiet under the mask and you don’t know anyone int his fucking place anyways. The voice is weirdly happy, weirdly laughing and you want to vomit from how easy-going it sounds. Like the corpse of your beheaded friend is nothing, like it’s a fun pun, like…

You laungh forward, trying to, maybe, get revenge on your not-really-a-friend. Guy lets go of Karen’s body, allowing it to fall down, her head rolling to the nearest creek and tumbling into the water like a sports ball. You can’t even sob – the situation feels too unreal, too shocking, you are still very much drunk and when the guy simply wraps his hands around your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch, you fall limp in his hold. 

You sob. 

His hand goes to grasp your face in a tight embrace, making you gag from the smell of blood splattered all across his hand. You hear chuckle. 

— Didn’t want you to see that first. Wanted to play hero, yes? 

You sob, you tremble, you can barely master a few words out of your mouth. You want to scream, but it’s like all the air just decided to disappear from your lungs. So, you cry instead. How brave of you, Karen would be so proud of her friend not even trying to avenge her death. 

— F…fuck…you. 

You master with all you strength. Guy is laughing again – his other hand goes to squeeze your waist even more, pushing you against a tree. He wears a full mask with some red drawings on it – a satanic cult, really? You thought about serial killer, maybe, but definetly not about crazy cult maniacs running around. The more you know. 

— Oh, kitten, I’d love to fuck myself. But you’re here for this, no? 

He called you kitten – you squirm in his grasp, not wanting to give him the easy way to kill you. Something pokes you to the side – it’s a knife. Large, sharp, military-issued, you saw it in movie and action TV shows – and now the bloody razor almost grazing over your skin, through the thing fabric of your open jacter and a simple T-shirt. 

— Wh…who are you? 

Stpuid question, really. 

— Why does everyone wants to ask who we are all the time? Would you die happier knowing my name? Would it help you escape knowing how many beauty marks I have?

It would certainly help the police if you were to survive the encounter. Even though you are certainly going to die right next to Karen over there. 

He pushes a knife towards your side, the blade cutting through fabric easily, You brace yourself for being gutted alive. 

— I don’t like stupid questions. Ask something wrong and I will see if you are as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside. 

In a normal situation, you would punch him for such a corny joke. But you’re too drunk for this, but you’re too exhausted for this, but you just want to curl away in some nice place and fucking die, but not because he was the one to kill you. You certainly do not want to give him the satisfaction of being the one for you. 

So, you feel your cheeks heating up with the faintest of blushes. 

— What are you going to do with me?

He pushes the knife deeper, sharp edge cutting the thin line into your side. You sob immediately, tears filling your eyes as you almost feel blood – not a lot of it, just a tiny sharp streak – fill your shirt. You want to vomit, hate pain, and everything that is related to it. Thinking that the knife is dirty already and he would probably infect you with whatever one of the 13 STDs Karen has if he were to proceed. He stops right before the blade can penetrate your skin. 

— I’m a serial killer. What do you think I will do with you? 

You shake your head, trying to search for the question that won’t make him plunge a knife into your body. 

— W…what is your favorite color? 

Good job. Amazing job. Let’s hope you don’t like your liver all that much because he is definitely going to cut it out and eat it. 

— Red. I like you. 

Suddenly, you are being pushed to your knees. Suddenly, he is standing right in front of you – he is tall, of course, bulky and big, and he seems even bigger from this angle. Your face is pressed against his crotch and you can feel the dread slowly filling up your weins. Is he going to…

He presses a knife against your lips – you part it obediently, nervously, you feel your face twitching with disgust as your mouth immediately fills with the metallic taste of Karen’s blood. You really need to vomit right fucking now, but he is petting your head with his other hand like someone would do to a dog or a cat, and you sob. Too scared to do anything and here you thought you would finally stop letting people walk all over you. You thought it would start a journey of self-actualization and finding your own priorities, but…

He presses the knife a bit deeper. 

— Someone here has manners. Your friend here was trying to fuck me until she saw a knife. 

Sounds like Karen. You still remember her fucked-out face when she happily stumbled out of your room, with your boyfriend that you thought was never into cheerleaders. She had her urges and it was normal until she started to get off with those urges on everyone who liked you, or who you liked – and with such an innocent smile that no one was ever mad at her. 

He presses the knife against your upper jaw, laying it flat on your tongue – you sob, trying not to shake your head too much as he wipes away your tears and pushes your throat even deeper on the blade. You don’t know how it still hasn’t penetrated you yet. 

— Squealed like a fucking pig, not even fun anymore. I assume she was the whore of your group? 

You shook your shoulders, not wanting to give him any answers. He laughs, pressing the blade down and slightly turning it to the side. You feel the string of saliva running from your open mouth – he wipes it with his finger, leaving blood stains on your face. 

— Clean the knife for me, okay? I might leave you live if you would be good for us. You launch onto the opportunity to save your life so quickly, that you don’t even register the word “us” slipping from his tongue. 

You suck the knife obediently, carefully holding your tongue from the sharp edge so you won’t cut yourself, trying so desperately not to hurt yourself on the blade, that it’s almost adorable, He looks at you, the way you even fucking hollow your cheeks to clean it more efficiently, like you were sucking a cock and, with every passing second, he doesn’t really feel like killing you anymore. 

He feels like keeping you bound to him – maybe cutting your ankles so you would never run away from them, maybe tying you up to the body of your friend and holstering you both to the house, making you watch him gut Karen so you’d know not to run away from them. 

He pets your head like you were a cat – and, god, he always adored cats. 

You hear the noises from the side – your gaze darts to the nearest bushes as the guy waves his hand to someone gigantic sitting down at your side. Two pair of hands are now petting your head like you were a fucking animal – and you’re still sucking on his knife, feeling the pressure on your lips. You want to die, but there is no choice but to keep living. 

— Scheisse, what do you have here? 

A hand goes to cup your face and turns you to the side, to meet the giant, bulky figure fully wrapped in camo gear. His face is concealed with some sort of hood, which makes you shake even more. They both look like soldiers – or soldier-cultist-butchers from a horror movie. But, then again, you are in the fucking horror movie, since the big guy has Karen’s head in his hand, holding her by the hair. You sob even more. 

— Stumbled across me as I was gutting the slut. 

— Is she a smart one then? 

The guy with the knife laughs, yanking the blade from your mouth. You want to close it immediately, but the second guy pushes his finger between your lips, keeping them apart – and you are too scared to even try to bite him. Instead, you sit here, obediently, feeling the alcohol in your system working its magic. Again. Making you drowsy and relaxed, panic drained so much energy from your body, that you genuinely feel horrible. 

— No, wouldn’t say so. Obedient, more like. 

— Not a cool one either. Are you a virgin, Schatz? 

You want to lie, just so you won’t feel so fucking embarrassed because of it – but something in the brutality of what they did to Karen made you reconsider. You just shake your shoulders, not wanting to give a definitive answer. 

— Cute. Been some time since we saw a cute one like this. 

Your sobbing intensifies and the big guy suddenly yanks you on your feet. You immediately feel ill, pressing your head against the tree and emptying your insides – mostly because of the panic and partly because of the amount of alcohol you drank. Their touches are surprisingly soft on your skin, gently removing any stray hairs from your face and holding a firm hand on your back, rubbing the blood and grim into your jacket. 

You stand like this for a few minutes, choking on your own tears, vomit, and blood. They coo at you, gentle hands on your body guiding you towards them just so the second guy – a smaller one, relatively of course – could get a hand in your hair and yank it back. Hard. 

— Calm the fuck down. 

— You’re scaring her, Tigeren. 

— Aren’t we here for this? 

— Thought you liked this one. 

— I do. But…

— But? 

— Not fun to take her just now. She can help stir her friends a little. Make them run a little. 

They fucking killed Karen and they want to…let you go? They made you clean their knives, stand on your knees in front of them, and then gently helped you empty your insides – just to let you go when you could run into the nearest policeman and destroy their whole little game? Are they dumb or overly confident? 

— She could run. I would rather keep her with us. 

— They won’t get out of these forests without phones. And their car is already…shit. Spoilers. 

— Alright. But I would be the first to take her next time. 

— She won’t be any good after you, Ko. 

— Our Kleine Hase has more than one hole, ja? 

This is it. 

You take the opportunity – they are distracted by their little conversation, so you duck under the hand of the bigger man and run in the close direction to where the group is sitting. You are covered in blood, and dirt, you shake like crazy and you can barely even run straight without getting right into the various trees, but you don’t care. You aren’t strong enough to sit here and listen to their conversation – not when the self-preservation makes you forget about Karen. Not when that feeling in your chest can only be described as “She got what she asked for” – because she was a bitch, but not nearly enough to deserve being beheaded by two psychos. 

They laugh as they watch you run. Horangi smiles, nudging Konig to the side – you’re not a fighter, but still interesting enough. Adorable and obedient, just vile enough to suck on the same knife that killed your friend – interesting mix, to say the least. Hongjin always wanted a cat, but never got the time on the various deployments – and you behave like a perfect mix of a kitten and bunny. 

Konig tilts his head to the side, watching you, this pathetic little thing, run like the devil was after you. He was, of course. and he came in double, but it was still funny, how a city girl like you seriously thought you would be able to get away if they weren’t allowing you to. You’re cute, for a tourist, and he wants to hunt you some more – perfect foreplay before destroying you with either his cock or his knife. 

One down – and both of them couldn’t wait to finally get to you. 

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Naga boyfriend head cannons

Gender neutral reader

Warnings:light NSFW, brief mention of kink choking, biting, mentions of eating rodents, snakes

Minors Don't Interact!

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You are his personal heater I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Your body is warm and he wants that warm. It's a bonus that it comes from you, he loves you.

Ha you have cold hands? So does he don't worry about it.

Oh you have warm hands? Let him hold them. Hold his face in your hands he will melt into them this poor touch starved man.

At the start of the relationship he couldn't stand you touching him. It wasn't that he hated when you touched him oh no no no he absolutely loves when you touch him. He's just scared he's not used to being touched so gently before and he's terrified that he'll hurt you with his large size and not realize it. It doesn't help that once he started to get sexual feelings for you everytime you touched hin turned him on. Your pinkie could have lightly grazed his shoulder and he would hve grown aroused.

Further into the relationship he knows how much you can handle you and will absolutely man handle you. You'll be walking past him and he'll use his tail to swoop you in so he can cuddle you. He still gets turned on real easy but it's more tame now. Doesn't mean he won't be tame when having sex though.

Home boy is kinky will choke you if your also into and biting is a must. If it's agreed too and he's not venomous he'd love to bite you, really sink his fangs in. There will be times you'll be completely wrapped up in his tail will he fucks you.

If you manage to top him he'll be leaning on his own tail draped out on it begging and panting. He didn't know he could be so sensitive before.

Times he's being a grumpy pants he'll snap right out of it if told you'd top him. Instant good mood.

Whenever it gets even slightly cold he's super clingy. Will do grabby hands at you until you set down whatever your working on and come cuddle him.

Owns 700 heating blanket, hope one or both of you have a good paying job cause the electric bill is oit if this world.

Don't insult him by offering to feed him mice or rats thats gross. Guinea pigs have more meat on them any way. Just give him a BLT you weirdo he eats normal foods.

Hates broccoli though. Introduce him to cheesy broccoli and it's a whole new ball park for him.

Will be so confused on why you have a pet reptile, doesn't see the appeal.

Pet snake you say? Your mistake that's your guys child. Will refer to as himself as dad when talking to the snake.

"Now Junior be a good boy for dad and let me change out your water. Junior? Junior please get out of your water... Yes I see you blowing bubbles it's very cute."

The snakes name isn't junior he just keeps calling him junior.

Will get himself a shirt saying number one dad and wear it any time he picks the snake up.

Loves soaking in the tub, join him he'll love it.

He'll wash your hair and die from bliss if you wash his it feels so good.

Shedding is a cranky embarrassing time for him please be patient he's feeling very uncomfortable. If it's early in the relationship he won't want you near him, it's not you it's him he's not comfortable enough to have anyone bear him during this vulnerable time. If it is further into the relationship he'll be more comfortable with you being around him but just don't get to close to him, just be there for emotional support. Now if the relationship is a good amount of years in he'll act all spoiled asking you to peal his shed off for him after he soaked for a few hours at the least. He'll get all whinny and clingy demanding cuddles and snacks.

Bundling in a ball with way to many heated blankets on, this man is a fire hazard. Fire men hate him.

Can't cook for shit. Will order every meal out if you let him. Hates doing the dishes but he's good at vacuuming and dusting. Likes tidying up, not a fan of messes. He'll make sure he does his fair share of the chores and if he sees your having a bad day he'll take on more chores. Will buy your your favorite foods and snacks in hopes of making you feel better.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Mammon: flopping onto the couch next to MC "Alright, serious question. If I was an animal, what would I be?"

MC: "Definitely a raccoon."

Mammon: offended "A raccoon?! C’mon, why would I be a trash-diggin' rodent? I’m more like a golden dragon or somethin’!"

Levi: piping up from his spot on the floor "No, they're right. You’d be the kind that steals trash and gets stuck in vending machines."

Mammon: crossing his arms "I am not a trash gremlin!"

Asmo: passing by "Says the demon who hides in the shadows, trying to swipe someone's valuables."

Mammon: offended "Treasure ain't trash!"

Satan: "That's right. Which it makes you a thief."

Mammon: "It ain't no way I'm a thief! I'm just.. borrowin' some stuff!"

Asmo: "Yeah.. borrowing it. That's why it always ends up on Akuzon, isn't it?"

Mammon: "That's a mere coincidence!! But ditch that! Let's talk about something else."

Lucifer: sipping tea "Would you rather talk about how you got your arm stuck in a vending machine, trying to get a packet of chips for free last week?"

Mammon: trying to defend himself "The vending machine ate my coin so I just tried to get what I paid for!"

Belphie: "Yeah, right. We all believe that."

MC: "Mammon, you can't deny it. You're exactly like a raccoon."

Mammon: sighing in defeat “Alright, fine! But if I’m a raccoon, I’m the most legendary raccoon out there."

Satan: "Don’t worry, Mammon. We’ll make you a little crown out of bottle caps."

Levi: "And we could also build you a little fort by the trash cans outside."

Lucifer: "Sounds.. fitting"

MC: "I know right?"

Mammon: "Ugh!!! I hate every last one of ya guys!"

---

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

[ashyashylee]

Jealous, much?

'-'꩜ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦) ꩜'-' (slightly yandere) I'm also doing characters I want, so if you want a certain character, please feel free to tell me and leave a comment.

Childe would be anything but sly about appearing cold and cunning in front of someone he believes to be a threat to you or the special relationship he has with you, his cute yet naive lover. Why should he share what is rightfully his? Has that man fought off every foe that

posed a nuisance in your presence? Childe has, so why can't you see that? All he asks is that you stay away from the shady man who wants all your attention for himself. Is that fine with you? Otherwise, he may have to deal with that guy himself.....You wouldn't want to be the reason he had to kill the 'just a colleague' in an inhuman manner now, would you? (He'd enjoy a good fight if that man can put up one) Until that decision has been made by him to eliminate that idiot he will be at your side all the time. Why can't you smile and laugh at him the way you do to that snob? He's not jealous! So don't accuse him. "Eh? What now princess? Me, jealous?.... Heh, I think it's him who should be jealous of how close I am to you~" Just hide it, Childe...Hide it...You don't want to be caught....that man will disappear soon... soon...no one can save him.

"Wanderer....it's just a colleague" Wanderer scoffs and looks at you with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth behind his bored frown. While he's got you pinned onto a wall in a secluded area he managed to get you in and away from that asshole of a 'colleague' he wanted to have a small chat..."Really now? You expect me to believe that lie?" the words left his mouth like a hiss and he moved his face closer to yours so you could see the annoyed look in his eyes. Moments ago (before you were captured in Hat guy's wrath) you were chatting with a fellow akademiya student. You didn't notice it but Wanderer was there too....not that you could see him, since he was hiding and observing you closely as you nodded at the man as he talked. Why were you looking at the dumbass like that? You are supposed to look at him like that, with those cute eyes that light up, and that soft smile that he so badly wanted to kiss. But no. You only just realized he was there when Wanderer harshly grabbed you by the arm and took off with you. "Does he really deserve your attention? He's a nobody...with a big dream thinking he can steal you away from me..." Under all the hate his eyes show, you can see he truly cares about you, that way his voice softens, and the sincerity in his touch. Answer the way he wants, and he'll forget about it for a while...just don't make the same mistake twice.

"Wha- Lyney!...Stop...it" You try to push him off as he showers you with an unexpected bunch of kisses and hugs. Where did he even appear from? "Mm~ Mon chéri~ I'm just showing my love for you, since when were you embarrassed by that? Hm?" He wrapped his arms around your waist as he hugged you from the back. This wouldn't be bad, not at all, you would love this....if only he wasn't doing this right in front of your colleague. "Uh, I'm not. It's just....I was a bit busy talking to someone...who is still here". Lyney looked up, he was fully aware of that rodent standing beside you, the entire reason he was doing this was to give that man a hint. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arms around you tighter. If your colleague wasn't getting the hint, you sure were. He's jealous....a rare sight for the seemingly deceitful and playful magician. While you were thinking about your discovery, Lyney coldly stared deep into the man's eyes, his small smile on his thin lips didn't quite fit. His thoughts ran wild. Where should he hide the man's body once he disposes of this garbage? Should he let the Fatui deal with him? Are you closely attached to the man? Eh, it doesn't matter if you are, the only person you need in your life is him. He snapped out of it as you spoke "Well we should be going, see you later". You waved goodbye to the male colleague and turned to Lyney with an exasperated look. Lyney just chuckled and held your cheek softly in his hand, giving you a quick peck on the nose. "That man.....He isn't annoying you....is he?"

(This was kinda a fun fic, I wanna do more but idk what characters to do)