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ty-bayonet-betteridge · 8 months

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Home

A rumination on the H1VE and the meaning of home.

H1VE has a base of operations. At least, that's what they call it around other people. Cicada said he thought it would lend an air of legitimacy to their operations, and B0UNTY said it might be good for morale to call it a proper base too. But most of them don't call it that amongst themselves. They tend to call it home.

Because that's what it is. It's a shitty two-bedroom apartment that they rent, on the very fringes of what's technically considered Oldbrush Valley. And it's home to their little found family.

They weren't always in that same apartment. When it first started, when it was just PR1ZE and Cicada trying to stay alive, they'd been in a different apartment in the same building. One bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room. Technically, according to the landlord, there was a kitchenette too, but neither of them really liked the look of the stove - and they weren't exactly cooks either. They microwaved their food and told themselves it could be worse.

They'd initially planned to rotate out who would sleep in the bed and who would get the couch. That plan lasted about three weeks. After that, they'd given up on pretending they weren't together. They shared the bed after that.

The place was garbage. Bad water pressure, the ugliest and least comfortable couch you've ever seen, walls that had been damaged and that the landlord either didn't care or couldn't afford to get contractors in for. It reminded Cicada of Matt's house. And that stung for more reasons than bug felt comfortable unpacking.

But it had one thing Matt's house didn't have. It had PR1ZE. And that was enough to make it home.

B0UNTY and Scarab had made their way in a few weeks later. They were there to help, and Cicada and PR1ZE accepted them in. They didn't mind sharing the couch, and they didn't ask questions about Cicada and PR1ZE sharing the room. It didn't escape either of their notices that B0UNTY and Scarab had matching rings on their fingers.

They managed to upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment after that. Lord knows where the money was coming from. None of them were employed exactly, and time travel wasn't lucrative. But somehow they managed to scrape it up every month. (Cicada once suggested that they try to apply for government relief, and Scarab very patiently pointed out that neither of them had a social security number and that PR1ZE and B0UNTY were legally dead. Xhey ceded the point.)

The two-bedroom was worse somehow. They were all pretty sure that it violated about a dozen different regulations - but it meant that the landlord accepted payment in cash and didn't ask why none of them had a credit history or any ID, so they didn't press the issue. It was theirs as long as they had the money. None of them could tell exactly when it started feeling like home, but somehow, unmistakably, it was.

And then Jessie and Jessica joined them and it started to feel foreign again. The girls slept together on the couch when they first moved in, and everyone was very awkwardly aware of how the apartment was much too small for six. This was made worse by the fact that they were still trying to figure each other out. Cicada confided in Scarab that bug worried Jessie and Jessica were just there to try and steal H1VE's calculator. Scarab promised to keep an eye out.

Jessie was the one to break up the tension of that first week. It came back to the apartment at eight in the morning with three grocery bags loaded under her arms. She complained jovially about how poorly stocked their kitchen was, then offered to make biscuits and gravy as an apology for waking everyone up. Cicada and Scarab agreed before haw was done with the sentence.

Jessie wasn't really a great cook. She was a passable cook, which is all you need to convince someone that you're a great cook - as long as you're confident, and the person you're talking to is hungry and doesn't know anything about cooking themself. She worked the dough, chopped onion, and mixed spices into her gravy with the sort of body language that projected self-assuredness. Jessica was pretty sure it was an act, but it was a good one, and the other four warmed up.

Their table was barely big enough for three. A few of them had to sit at the couch while they ate. PR1ZE spilled gravy on the cushion. None of them noticed. They were too busy talking.

Scarab noticed during a lull in the conversation that - with the smell of black pepper, sage, garlic, and onion in the air, and six gently smiling people talking about nothing at all and eating good food - that the place felt like home again. That was nice.

The cowboys warmed up to each other pretty quickly after that. Scarab started using yee/haw pronouns after Jessie explained its reason for having them, and Jessie made haw a pronoun patch for haws jacket, to match hers. Cicada and Jessica commiserated over how Western the whole place was getting, but of course neither of them begrudged their iterations for their happiness.

At some point, Jessie started sleeping in B0UNTY and Scarab's room. At some point, they started calling haw Capybara. At some point, B0UNTY gave the three of them matching stick-and-poke tattoos - a design of a capybara and a fox curled up together, with a scarab beetle on the capybara's head.

Jessie hadn't had something that felt like a home in a long time. Not since before she'd been displaced from her future and sent back here. Not since before she became a cowboy. Not since before she'd gotten dragged back into the world of time travel. Not since before she'd killed herself in an attempt to escape WOE.BEGONE. Not since before she moved to OVER. Not since before her third challenge, when she died. But it knew that it was home now.

It took Jessica a bit longer. Move nights with PR1ZE and Cicada, dinners shared between the three of them, her desperate attempts to teach them some basic kitchen skills, to no avail. Learning their little injokes and references and adding her own to the pile. Getting used to their macabre and gory tastes in horror, introducing them to her favorite psychological horror movies. PR1ZE went along with whatever - Jessica suspected he was much more interested in the company than the movies - but Cicada had strong opinions and wasn't afraid to make them known. They ended up doing a lot of good-natured bickering over the movies they'd just watched. They bonded over how overrated Skinamarink was, but she couldn't get him to see the light on how the merits of The Babadook.

And then suddenly she was no longer Jessica, PR1ZE and Cicada's friend, but rather one third of a trio. PR1ZE and Jessica and Cicada. It happens in pieces until she's not sure where she stands with them. She's always been bad at the "what are we" talk, and she suspects that they aren't the best at it either. It's a mess, and she doesn't know how to untangle it, but there are some things she does know.

She knows that PR1ZE leans against her one night while they're watching a slasher movie and that she lets him. She knows that she doesn't mind when Cicada starts calling her Capybara. She knows that at some point, hearing PR1ZE's voice is enough to make her feel safe. She knows that when she's holding Cicada against her chest and she calls him Bug, she can feel xhem soften in her arms.

She knows that she kisses PR1ZE first. She knows it's Cicada who invites her to share their bedroom.

She knows she's home.

#H1VE #our writing #jessica baker #jessie baker #PR1CAD1CA #queerplatonic pardners #theo isnt included in this not because i forgot about her or want to exclude her #but because. i dont really know how to write him yet #also it doesnt seem like he feels like theyre Home in H1VE yet the way the others do? soon though #also the Supplemental Members (Jess and OVER Jess and Jay/A.J.) arent included either.#maybe ill write a sequel to this #or yall can #make them all be Home <3 <3 <3

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falled-over · 5 months

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i got a ds as my christmas present a few years back with a copy of animal crossing (which is considered a bad version of the game btw) and something i keep coming back to is these little objectively somewhat pointless interactions like going for a coffee. you just go to the cafe, and buy a cup. you drink it, and you leave. i always say goodbye before i go. im trying to say thanks. i cant really see any practical reason for doing it, it is objectively just a money suck, but i love doing it. at first i thought the little bird who runs it might open up to me but he doesnt seem the type, but i still like him, so i go and visit him. it feels so real. like he remembers me but doesnt like talking about it. its such an incredibly special and intimate feeling. i wonder if other games at the time were able to cultivate this or if it was unique

#ive only really played modern games where everything has a reward. it was so nice to do something so close to reality #im sure there might be some in game reason to do it but i dont know. maybe you get energy or something #i dont really care. i felt like i was forming a connection emotionally. i wish we still valued that in games #its the only thing im really interested in.#if you have any game recommendations for the ds lmk actually. my sister got a 3ds this year #its funny. i wanted a gaming console so bad as a kid. specifically a ds or a wii #and we have them now! and i dont much care about them. and im kind of glad. im glad i was forced to do something else #i do not look down on gaming as a hobby at all but i am glad its a smaller one for me #i would also like to talk about a similar feeling i felt when i played subnautica (which they took off the gamepass before i could finish i #what the fuck man.)#they briefly put the sequel on so obvi i gave it a shot but i feel it was terrible in comparison #something uniquely insane about the first one is the feeling of isolation. the deep fear #you crash land on the planet and immediately all your communication off-planet is cut and it seems everyone perished in the crash #you spend a couple of hours getting situated and then the ships core explodes. a huge shock wave shakes the entire planet #standing on top of my pod and looking out at the mountain-sized wreck was an insane feeling of isolation. you have to experience it.#and then you start picking up signals on your little tablet. other escape pods. the signals from previous missions who came to do research #you travel out. find food. build things. the whole time working towards seeing if you can find the other pods #each one #empty #often containing a log of their last moments. usually eaten by something. you got lucky #you landed in the only area without a massive predator.#you find alien tech. learn about a disease that wiped out the planet. the entire time you are completely alone #its such a unique feeling. no npcs. no story you have to follow if you dont want to. but god is there not much else. you'll get around to i #discovering the alien species is horrifying and amazing #its an incredible game and i think its sense of loneliness is its greatest achievement. being truly alone on an uncaring planet #sitting there and watching the fish swim by #its unmatched. truly #i would actually love game recommendations if you have any. i love games with unique story lines or characters too #im much more into stories than gameplay #which totally goes against what i just said about subnautica in theory but not in practice

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merrysithmas · 1 year

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ugh im legit so disappointed they gave heir to the empire to filoni (& will seemingly focus on Ahsoka) rather than give it to someone like Gilroy and focus on Han/Luke/Leia

#use cgi or even as a recast whatever #filoni does not deserve heir to the empire #not after the complete and utter trainwreck of Mando3 #absolutely not #heir to the empire #ahsoka is great but we dont need the Filoni OC takeover #we need the og trio tbh #theyre the bedrock of star wars #which is why the universe seems so lifeless in disneys hands #give a powerful presence to han luke and leia and youre gold #whatever else you like from the sw universe should definitely coexist (the prequels the din and grogu stuff ahsokas journey the crime and #underworld andor rogue one yes #but without han luke and leia as its anchor the entire universe feels empty #plain and simple you truly cant have sw without the skywalkers (meaning LEIA and LUKE and VADER)#you can extrapolate all you want but they are the core of the core #until dlf brings them back itll always feel hollow #the sequels didnt give them any power and tbh this is the number one reason it fell flat #bc they used the og trio to prop up the new characters and and not the other way around #had they have been smart enough to do that - i guarantee the sequels wouldve succeedes #succeeded

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robocops-a-christ-allegory · 2 years

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I havent seen anyone else say it and Im wondering if its because its actually a really obvious read we all know of but. I think season 2 of dont hug me im scared is representative of the main characters as Actors being contractually stuck in one of those shows thats been running for like 30 years and not able to get out of it

#they all have moments of questioning the formula and wanting to get out but also all just as often #fall into going along with things and all of them have moments of just wanting a Singing Bastard to show up because #its what always happens. I also think the stuff with #Lesley is part of it and everything but I dont think the show is Literal still #Maybe Lesley is the showrunner who started the show as like a tribute to her dead son and then it #got taken over by the network and executive meddled into being a soulless vehicle for advertising and pushing harmful and backwards ideas #So its like her being shackled to this Twisted Version of a project she started with good intentions and now shes resentful #which is why she keeps snapping at Yellow Guy and seems to be like kind of enjoying the puppets being stuck #and getting hurt. ok thats it thank you #Also I do see it as a sequel to the youtube show #Because of the changed date and characters from the youtube being referenced #and some people think events from the webseries are being referenced too like bird guy being dead #And the Youtube Series ended with them being rebooted.#So. Ok thats it #I dont know why DHMIS is really interesting to me Im really into the show #It has that perfect balance of like clearly having a deeper meaning without leaning too heavily into it and still being like a #funny little comedy horror show with really cool production

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weekend-conspiracy-theorist · 2 years

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rereading network effect this time with the foreknowledge that fugitive telemetry is not a sequel to it (and having actually read them chronologically rather than in publishing order), I am forced to conclude that it is actually a fairly satisfactory/hopeful conclusion to murderbot's character arc, so although I so desperately want to see its adventures with ART and its crew, it won't be the end of the world if martha wells never writes a sequel. I'd just be extremely disappointed instead of absolutely heartbroken

#it may be why she found it easier to jump backward in the timeline than write a straight sequel #when she wrote fugitive telemetry #but that's pure speculation. and I have no info saying one way or the other #if she's planning to write more #desperately hope she does but 🤷‍♀️#she hit one ending (exit strategy) already and kept writing so 🤞#she so clearly gave herself a narrative thread to pick up that I have to assume she's at least considered it #but murderbot finally having an idea of what it wants to do in life is also a pretty good end point #all its interpersonal stuff except with ART's crew has been pretty much resolved #arguably its stuff with mensah's fam on the whole is still unresolved but having thiago and amena on its side should clear that up #even three seems to fill a narrative niche of ''what about the rest of the secunits'' since it y'know. likes them.#may plot a construct revolution. ykwim.#anyway book good; reread bits immediately after finishing it #because watching ART want to destroy a literal world for murderbot is exquisitely good #for me. personally.#I love friendships where they will murder for each other and that's this entire book

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tautozhone · 3 days

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cant believe i’m in a heated tense micro-argument with a teenager because she keeps saying she HATES shrek three cannot stand it but also by her own account has never seen it. she won’t say anything beyond “he hates being royal and hates being a dad big deal” and that it’s a poor quality movie. i accidentally started a whole thing because i mentioned if she wanted to watch shrek four then watching three made sense, at the very least if you’re going to shit on a movie you need to know what you’re talking about. we’re talking about shrek here though. what the fuck is happening

#tauto talks #it’s not even funny i fucking went downstairs to cry because shit was taking such a weird right turn #local child wants to watch shrek 4 and local adults living in the house keep trying to ask why she cannot stand the idea of watching #the third movie if she’s never seen it and then keeps talking about it like it is the worst movie ever #it became a whole thing her mom put the third one on and she would not pay attention and then it all got Worse #i wanted to make a point at least that you can’t really critique a media you haven’t seen surface level like this #but i keep feeling so fucking baffled at the fact this is all about shrek #because i genuinely like the shrek movies. all of them. like in order. and i think shrek 3 is underrated #gets overshadowed by shrek 2 being the best sequel in history and the first being The Classic and then shrek 4 being super cool #idk i got my feelings hurt because she joked about me needing to evaluate my work and i do Not understand why it was that serious #YOUVE NEVER SEEN IT #being mean to me “as a joke” over something you seem way too opinionated on for someone who has never seen it #what stupid youtube review bro got to you #communication error moment maybe i just can’t stop thinking about it because i hate conflict every time it happens ever #over SHREK of all things. christ #i hate it here #this post is cursed #i don’t know why it’s so serious to me (i guess it became serious when i was insulted but i’m genuinely trying to be like. normal and kind)#(she apologized but only after everyone had to be like. no girl that was rude. that was a low blow. why’d you make it that personal.)#i just think arthur is funny. he’s a silly guy. i think the story is nice and sweet and compelling and cheesy enough to enjoy #you can only like shrek 3 as an adult maybe #anyway yeah cursed post !!!!!

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schwarzeneggr · 2 months

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theres some gay guy nurse in this hospital and like ok i gritted my teeth when I saw his rainbow disney lanyard but then this morning he was playing jungle book music while we were in line to take our morning medication on his phone and i was like girl you cannot be a disney adult and be gay. Are you aware. Do you know. Have you googled. Did nostalgia brainwash you. Do you think any of us stuck in this psychiatric facility for 3+ months want to hear a bear sing about how the bare necessities make you happy while I chug on the 4 pills i depend on for mental stabilization before I stab myself with the insuline i also depend on to litteraly live. Fuck you ill rip that earring with my teeth.

#Also the fucking protocol for insulin was fucked and he gave me 4 instead of 10 units and refused to listen to my pleas because #´it says so on the computer and we dont want u to have a hypoglycemia 😔'#ok so who is responsible for the hyperglycemia I got then ? You think 3g of sugar in your blood is comfortable ?#You saw in the record that I did 10 unit for each meal yesterday and the day before and my blood sugar was PERFECT and you did not wonder #why it suddenly changed to 4? you refused to listen to ME who has been diabetic since I was a TEEN ? like I dont know my own fucking #chronic disease #I swear to god the jungle book music playing while he just kept refusing me insulin jsut. It was a fucking nightmare. i felt like in hell #of course i waltzed in with a3g blood sugar for lunch but he didnt seem concerned ! none of them did ! you know !#as long as the patient is suffering from sequels that will impact them 20 y from now and not imminent danger why should they care #FUCK YOU ALL every fucking psychiatric facility plays the same cards on me and i have to pay for their lack of organisation and im sick #OF IT... IM HERE FOR MENTAL HEALTH !!! DONT FUCKING ADD TO MY FUCKING BURDEN ILL STRANGLE YOU WITH THAT RAINBOW DISNEY LANYARD

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liliacamethyst · 1 year

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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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alternautxyz · 1 year

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new blorbos acquired cower in fear

anyways update im going insane over lego monkie kid i thought it would be a fun time but i did not expect some of the rawest scenes ever from a lego show selling you $100+ sets

this show deserves the world please watch it

#warning like 20+ tags here that i do want to move #sucks that actually watching the show legally is a pain with the limitied and random options there are #if your wondering it's basically a journey to the west next gen sequel and the way they build on the world is pretty neeto #but it seems to check out for most people so yeah #but bro legged-os show needs support #like i watched it because the artstyle and animation was really good and i knew the basic plot of book well enough #somehow the animation is better than i expected and contantly really good and nice to look at even in the chill eps #but then i also ended up really liking all the characters and would honestly enjoy a character focused ep on all of them #like its rare for me to hate a character #but the fact that i really love all of the main cast and a lot of the supporting is pretty rare #the way they mirror the prev squad in the og book is pretty interesting since its like on two sides of the chara development spectrum #and i would be fine if it was exclusively slice of life stuff but the plot also ended up being really good #like the s3 finale specials are so good and climactic with a banger of a villain and some of the coolest moments of the show #and somehow s4 seems to be building to something that might even surpass it in some areas #the emotional moments especially later on hit hard too #like there are way too many times where this show hits so hard and can be so raw with like one line or one scene #like that one s3 ep where they reverse exorcise a nuke into someone and they have a big 'reasons you suck' speech with cool visuals? banger #the s3 finale is all around cool but that final convo with the antagonist is so striking that s4 quotes it multiple times #s4e7 aka ''i am the shadow the true self'' my beloved it has everything #cool fight scenes great emotional character moments that stick in your mind and a soundtrack that wrap it all in a bow #even some smaller episodes like one where they normal exorsise a gramdpa has really nice moments that cover stuff like grief and moving on #because every child(?) protagonist in a kids show is destined by fate to become insanely traumatized by the end of the show #yes these examples are more recent but thats because recency bias and the Cerberus syndrome it gets later down the line #thats a whole tag essay to say that this show is so good and deserves as many seasons as it needs #i would buy a set but every modern lego set that i want is over $100 and i cant do that #i could ramlble about it so so much more but thats the gist of it go watch it #alttalks

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nvuy · 2 months

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hijacked — boothill

summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.

notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh

HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.

warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?

“Hey, pretty thing.”

Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.

You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.

Did he know?

It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.

“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.

He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.

He just looked so out of place at the banquet.

He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.

“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.

His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.

No weak spots.

“N’aww. Shame.”

The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.

“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”

You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”

“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”

“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”

“Good. You know your worth.”

You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.

Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.

You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.

“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.

He winked. “Guess.”

You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”

“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”

Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.

“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.

He flashed his teeth in warning.

Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”

You stopped short.

He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.

You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.

He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.

Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.

You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.

“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”

“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”

You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.

The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.

The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.

You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.

Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.

You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.

You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.

Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.

He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.

Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.

“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”

You gritted your teeth.

You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.

Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.

You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.

You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.

“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.

You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.

Or…

Or what? What else could you do?

Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.

You then formed the worst idea of your life.

With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.

“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.

You fished the USB from your bag.

Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.

He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.

There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.

The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.

You grinned. Gotcha.

When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.

When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.

All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.

It was missing just his head.

He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”

You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”

When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.

Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.

He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.

It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.

He should’ve seen this coming.

You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.

“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”

He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.

“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.

He was glaring at you.

“Did the IPC send you?”

After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”

“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”

You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.

“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”

Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.

You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.

You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.

You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.

You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.

Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.

“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.

You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”

He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.

He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.

Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.

You snapped the powder shut.

The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”

“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”

You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.

“You’d never hit me, would you?”

His face almost lit up with fury.

It was absolutely hilarious.

“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”

“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.

You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.

“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”

You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”

Begrudgingly, he did so.

You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.

“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”

You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.

“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”

Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.

You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.

As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.

He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.

He held it between his thumb and index finger.

There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.

Mission accomplished, he supposed.

He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.

He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.

You smelled like strawberry.

#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )

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ohimsummer · 22 days

Text

JUST LONELY, BUT SO FREAKY ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, suguru x fem! reader, slight religious talk, established rs, satoru cameo, spanking, dryhumping, lots of kissing, fingering, take a shot every time I say ‘ass’

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ sequel to LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET

wc 2.3k

One peck. A second. Then another, and another. Geto can’t help the grin that forms under your barrage of affection, kisses peppered all over his jaw, cheeks, and nose. His hands rub over your plump waist, pull you closer into him as you giggle at the red tint starting to wash over his cheeks. You readjust, elbow sinking into his mattress, to sit up for a slightly better angle of attack, another low, mischievous laugh flowing between your teeth.

“Enjoying yourself?,” he asks, closes his eyes as you plant a kiss to his forehead.

“Someone definitely is.,” you tease and throw a leg over his hip, shuffling closer to destroy any spare inches between you two. “But yes, I suppose I do like kissing a pretty face.”

“You and me both.” And Geto presses soft lips to your own. He lingers for a second to stare into the hues of your eyes, narrowed beneath the upturn of your smile, before layering the corners of your mouth in a quick succession of kisses. A small wave of giggles bubbles up at his affections, ones that mix with quiet moans as Geto soon trails lower, down to your neck and collarbone.

“Suguru, that tickles.,” you pant into his hair, angling your neck for more. “Silly.”

He only hums in return, nibbles on an especially sensitive part of your neck and you feel him smile as you squirm next to him. Your whine of ‘Suguru!’ goes unanswered, only prompting him to grab you by the hips to straddle him. His hair splays out in a halo on satin pillows, giving Geto a heavenly look akin to a god—your god—alluring eyes never leaving your own.

“This is a pretty precarious position for you, isn’t it?,” you lower yourself to lay on his chest. Playful fingers thread through the dark locks of his hair.

“Hm? How so?” His eyes never leave yours, a game of chicken.

“Ohh, I don’t knoww.”

Suguru seems unbothered when you grind your pelvis against his; even through his sweats, you can feel the thick outline of his cock under your pussy, which is only growing wetter by the second. The splash of red on Suguru’s cheeks spreads further when you lean forward to plant another kiss on his chin, rubbing your body up and down his own. Your hands are eager to touch him, ducking underneath the hem of his sweats to rub at his v-line, teasing the edge of his boxers before you’re trailing them up and over his toned torso again. You feel your boyfriend tense as you give a cheeky jiggle of your ass, but before you can tease further, he lands a resounding smack! on your rear.

Jaw going slack, you sit up immediately, pressing yourself into his lap and mildly registering the faint hardness beneath you. “Naughty!”

“Behave.,” he says, eyeing the incoming pout on your face. Both brows shoot up as you give another small, tentative wiggle, and Geto raises a hand to hover over your behind. “You want another one?”

The fact that you don’t reply immediately, and instead turn to study the threatening hand above your ass pushes Geto to question you. “You gotta think about it, love? Don’t tell me this is turning you on.”

You finally snap around to look at him. “Wha–? It is no—!” Another smack forces a surprised moan from your lips, and Suguru rubs over the sore spot of your flesh. “You’re so mea–“ A squeeze, which prompts your yelp. “Suguru!”

He thinks this might be his hardest battle yet, fighting back the grin tugging at his lips. One hand kneads at the globe of your ass, the other moving to the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. Geto gives you another brief peck on the mouth, shortly taking in the sight of your plump lips before guiding them to his, eager tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You make a show of denying access for him and Geto gives a low grunt, a warning as he nips at you again.

This time, you part your mouth further to let him aside, allowing Geto to slip his tongue into the warm bay of your mouth, massaging it against your own. He feels so good, you feel so good, the way he can feel your stiff nipples poking at his bare chest through the fabric of your (his) shirt, your slow, leisurely ruts against the bulge in his briefs.

“Feel good, darling?” He breaks away to murmur teasingly against your lips. A low snort from him in reply to your absentminded ‘mhm’. “Yeah, I can tell, you’re soaking straight through to my dick.”

Your eyes snap open at that comment, brows raised and you pull away, but not too far. “You liar! I am not.”

“Oh?” His fingers dart below the hem of your shorts, brushing your bare pussy since apparently you’re not wearing any panties beneath. “Dirty girl. Let’s see then.”

You sit upright again to watch Geto’s hand disappear beneath your bottoms, hole involuntarily clenching as his fingers slip between your folds. Fingers run along the expanse of your pussy, coating his digits in wetness as he prods at your entrance before brushing a finger against your clit. He watches, waits, stalls and you decide to take matters into your own hands when you press down onto his idle finger.

“Needy.,” Geto chuckles. “Must be going too slow for you, doll. Couldn’t wait, hm?”

“No.,” and you brace hands atop his chest, descending until noses are brushing and you’re lost in a calm storm of purple. “Please touch me, Sugu, please. Stuff your fingers in your pussy, I want it.”

And he wants to edge you a little longer—you’re so cute with a river of tears down your cheeks and a wrenching grip on his shoulders, like you want to tear straight through him if he keeps toying with you any further. But Suguru’s dick also strains against his pants at your dirty words. You know just what to do and say to get him riled up, fluttering your lashes at him so sweetly, grazing your lips on his in such a tantalizing way as you’re begging him to fuck your pussy up—you might as well be the apple in the Garden.

You pull away just as Geto leans in for a kiss, but your little fun is short-lived as he gives a pinch to your clit, forcing a sharp whine out of you. His fingers are languid on the swollen nub, circling it and drawing sloppy, obscene noises from your soaking pussy. He engulfs your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans and hand keeping pace with the grind of your hips. ‘Suguru…feels s’good’ you mewl into his mouth, pressing closer to him and nails leaving angry marks on his broad shoulders.

Geto relaxes into your hand, one you’ve moved to cup his cheek, and loves the gentle caress of your thumb on his skin. He places a kiss on your wrist, any skin his adoration may reach. His palm knocks against your aching bud, fishing out whines from the depths of your throat. Suguru chases your lips whenever you break away to whimper his name— it’s like a prayer in the clouds, an exposure of your desire.

The kiss is magnetizing, but you barely find it in you to catch your breath, blinks slow and heart pounding beneath your heaving chest. Geto’s tongue darts over his lips, fingers still circling your clit to draw pretty little sounds from you that make his head spin. ‘Oh…f–fuck..!’ Your head tilts back, still fucking into the palm of his hand. Frustration and arousal boil in the pit of your stomach, because you want more. Your boyfriend’s an expert with his fingers, but you wish he’d put them inside you already, get rid of this empty feeling in your cunt. Geto can clearly tell what you want by the adorable frown on your lips, but he’s given you enough mercy for today, and he wants to hear you say it.

“Suguru, ah!” He runs a hand up to tweak your nipple, prompting a loud moan from you. “D-don’t, G–od! Again, again!”

“Not so loud, love.,” he chuckles, but makes no move to stifle the lustful sounds, nor stop his assault on your pussy. “You want to wake them up?”

Them being his roommates, but honestly, you really can’t find it in you to care, not with the way he’s still massaging your clit. His fingers grow restless, gripping at your tit before running to sink into the fatty flesh of your ass again. The sentence goes straight through one ear and out the other, barely registering a single word besides ‘want’ and you can’t wait any longer, you beg for him.

“Please put your fingers inside me, Sugu, fuck, fuck—!” Your eyes roll back, lids clenching shut.

The heavy hand on your behind controls the rut of your hips. His dick aches beneath his sweats, the only relief being the grinding pressure of your ass against his drooling length that stains his pants. Geto slides a finger lower, replacing his index with his thumb, teasing over your slick entrance, coaxing a finger inside. Your movements slow, and your mouth falls open. A choked whine escapes you, and your walls squeeze around Geto’s intruding finger, inviting him inside with intent to keep him there. ‘Oh, Suguru!’, you moan out. He gives your ass another smack, squeezing your cheeks. Head growing foggy at the desperate thought of your walls milking his cock.

Geto doesn’t give you time to adjust, stuffing another finger in, and another until you’re stretched out on three, large digits, forcing their way amidst your wet, cushiony walls to rub at that spongy spot — the one that makes stars burst behind your eyes and flashes of white cross your vision. His bruising grip on your ass doesn’t let up unless it’s to layer another smack on the sore skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure has you clutching, spasming around him, whining Suguru’s name as your legs grow tired. You lean back to rub at his hardened dick, and he hisses as you jerk him off through his pants.

“Ah, fuck, good girl, just—, shit, just like that.,” he praises you as his own release approaches.

You squeeze his tip and, with loud gasps, you’re both cumming together. Cum gushes out around Suguru’s fingers, into his palm, his own seed tainting the fabric of his boxers and seeping straight through to his sweats. With stuttered breaths, you collapse on top of him, and Geto gives your ass one last squeeze before wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you tight. He drags his fingers out of you, panting as he eyes your orgasm dripping between his fingers, and he raises the hand in the air. Your eyes jolt open at the pain of a hard slap to your ass, sending ripples through the flesh, but you’re so tired all you can do is half-heartedly pound a fist on his chest.

“Asshole.” The insult comes out a breathy huff. “You play so much.”

He gives you a smile, one that could never allow you to be truly annoyed with him. “See, if I was really an asshole, I wouldn’t be about to get up and start a shower for us.”

“You’re still an asshole for leaving me here to be cold.,” you fire back.

“Even if it’s just a few minutes?”

“Minutes, years, it all feels the same when I’m suffering from lack of your presence.”

You let Suguru slip out of your grasp, with much hesitation, and he quietly goes out the door. “I’ll be back, ya sappy lil’ drama queen. Try not to suffer too much without me, yeah?”

He grins at the sassy poke out of your tongue, treading quietly down the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. It’s dark, save for a small glow of light beneath the door of the room nearest his, Satoru’s bedroom. As he passes, he spots his best friend on the bed, transfixed on a movie displayed on his laptop. He leaves him be, continuing down a few more feet until he’s in the bathroom, and adjusts the water before making his way back to you.

“You still alive in here?,” Geto whispers to the lump beneath his sheets.

“Barely.” Your voice is muffled, hand flailing out until you find Suguru’s warm one and interlace your fingers. “Carry me, please?”

“Of course, darling.”

Morning arrives and, surprisingly, Gojo is first to step foot outside his room. He’s usually second to wake up, third if Shoko hasn’t spent the night drinking. It’s a little lonely, being by himself with only the noise of milk and cereal being poured into a porcelain bowl. That is, until someone else arrives.

“Suguru!,” he rasps a greeting to the other man, who’s shirtless and sporting scratch marks all over his arms and back. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Like a rock.” Or maybe a pebble, Geto had a tendency to awake once or twice in the night. But after the…activities you and him had gotten up to last night, he slept a little better in your arms.

“Must have been nice.” Gojo muffles out a sentence through bites of cereal. “I barely got any sleep, you and your company were making so much noise.” Suguru narrows his eyes, leaning against the table as Gojo continues. “Where is she anyway, don’t tell me your one night stand left before you even woke up?”

Before Suguru can respond, an insult on the tip of his tongue, there’s a small shuffling that catches his ear. As it grows louder, Gojo notices as well, and both men’s eyes widen when you come stumbling into view, using a fist to rub sleep from your eyes.

Suguru’s shirt still hangs loose on your frame. “Are you an asshole in your dreams, too? Just 24/7, Gojo?”

He watches, mouth agape, as you scoot over to Suguru, teetering against his shoulder and letting out a big yawn. Geto stabilizes you with an arm around your waist, embracing you in a side hug and resting a chin on the crown of your head. Suguru looks back to Gojo, whose spoonful of cereal hovers over the bowl.

“Nope. She’s right here.”

tagz: @anthoosies @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @soraya-daydreams @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @sttoru @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @ciggyy @starlightanyaaa @staryukis

#suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #suguru geto x you

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bunji-enthusiast · 4 months

Text

Run, Run Far Angel

Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.

WC || 2,070

<(You are here)><(sequel part)>

Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.

The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.

Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family.

Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.

Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-

“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire.

The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.

He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.

Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.

“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?

Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.

‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.

Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience.

It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier.

He seemed to be so.. Sad.

“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.

Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.

DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.

You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up.

DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.

“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.”

In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.

“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.

“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough.

You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”

DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision.

You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.

He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.

“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.

Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.

It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.

You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.

Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking.

“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.

Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.

You were close to the edge.

Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.

You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones.

Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”

DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness.

A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you.

His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told.

Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him.

To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?

“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”

#poppy playtime #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #x reader #purely platonic #I like how he calls the player angel #it’s cute :D

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