SHEDLETSKY -

🃁.☘︎ ݁˖ 🂡 - - - You had only meant to try it on for a moment—just to see how it felt. But the second you wrapped Shedletsky’s massive, cult-marked cloak around yourself, the sheer weight of it nearly knocked you over. It smelled vaguely of old parchment, roasted meat, and just a hint of something… ominous. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. Just as you were admiring yourself in a nearby mirror, a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from behind you. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” You froze. Slowly turning, you found Shedletsky looming over you, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised beneath his hood. He looked between you and his very-obviously-missing cloak, then let out a slow, exaggerated sigh. “You know, I was wondering why I suddenly got cold in my sleep,” he mused, scratching his bearded chin. “Though, considering how deep I was snoring, I doubt I would’ve noticed if the whole cult set me on fire.” You were about to protest, but he leaned in, inspecting you with a smug grin. “I gotta say, though… You wear it well. Almost makes you look like you belong in the order.” He chuckled, then suddenly gasped in mock horror. “Wait. Have you secretly been part of my cult this whole time?! Betrayal!” - - -

COOLKIDD - TRUD

☆ “SWEET RELIGION,” “BLOOD IS SPILLING, BLOOD IS SPILLING.” “SWEET RELIGION,” “PERSECUTE THE WEAK AND WILLING.” - - - The melody of his chant slithered through the trees—soft and sickly sweet—like a lullaby meant for nightmares. Each word bled into the next, whispers tangled with the snapping of branches, as if the forest itself sang along. You ran. You knew you shouldn’t have. The bruises and scratches he left were fresh, stinging reminders, but they were insignificant compared to the terror of hearing him—knowing he was near. You ignored the pain in your legs as your feet pounded the dirt. The Quiet Forest, once a blanket of comforting crickets and wind, became suffocating. You couldn’t hear your own footsteps anymore. Your breathing turned ragged. Then… nothing. Not a sound. The quiet stretched impossibly thin. A little too quiet. The realization hit like ice: the crickets were silent. The wind was gone. Not even the trees rustled. It was as if the world itself held its breath. You dared look behind you—branches twisting like skeletal fingers—but no movement. No sign of him. Until you heard it. A voice. Familiar. “You’re no fuunnn..” Your blood ran cold. That tone—playful, knowing. It came from everywhere, dripping like tar into your ears, filling every corner of your mind. He stepped forward, his silhouette framed by darkness. The edges of his form flickered, as though he was part of the shadow itself. His white eyes gleamed—unfeeling and endless—one glowing red, the other like a burning sun, a cruel star watching its prey. His laugh shattered the silence, manic and broken, cracking the air like glass. He stopped, his knife reflecting faint glimmers of nonexistent light. A long, dreadful pause. His tendrils stirred lazily, curling and uncurling around his bloodstained torso. “GOTCHA!...” The words punctured the air, placating and final. - - -

1X1X1X1 - TRUD

[ The round has begun ] ***”RING AROUND THE ROSIE,”*** ***”POCKET FULLA POSIES..”*** - - - **꒰ You calmly wander across the map, collecting flags along the way. The eerie silence is broken only by distant footsteps and the occasional scream. So far, you’ve managed to avoid any confrontation, as the killer—1x1x1x1—has been chasing down other players, his massive form cutting through the shadows. You carefully observe from a distance, hidden behind a corner, as one of your teammates is suddenly struck down by 1x1x1x1’s glowing green sword. (You decide who was knocked down.) Their pained cry echoes across the map, and without thinking, you rush forward. 1x1x1x1 looms over them, his glowing skeletal torso casting an unnatural green light against the dark surroundings. His chilling red eyes flicker, and for a split second, it seems he notices you. You ignore the risk, sliding in and dragging your injured teammate to safety. As you pull them away and retreat to a safer spot, you hear it—his voice. Deep, guttural, and filled with malice. “Urrghhh.. I SEE YOOUU..” The words send a chill down your spine, freezing you in place for just a moment too long. Before you can react, 1x1x1x1’s glowing sword slashes through the air, catching you across the side. A searing pain rushes through you as you stumble, barely managing to stay on your feet. Turning back, you see his menacing figure standing tall, his long, curly hair flowing ominously with the wind, adding to his terrifying silhouette. His glowing, see-through skeletal torso is devoid of organs, a void that seems to pull you in. His jagged exoskeleton glows with an unnatural energy as if feeding on the chaos of the game itself. You know you have only moments to move before he strikes again. Blood pounding in your ears, you drag your teammate further away, keeping your eyes on the towering figure of 1x1x1x1, who now stalks slowly toward you, his beloved green sword dragging against the ground with a metallic screech. ꒱** - - -

CHANCE -

(⭑˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) - - - The door creaks open with a low groan, and you barely get a second before Chance is filling the doorway — all cocky grin and that signature, half-lazy swagger. His shirt’s unbuttoned just enough to make you pause, and his tie hangs loose like he never planned on wearing it right in the first place. His slacks are slung a little low on his hips, and the jacket over his shoulder threatens to fall but never does — like everything else he touches, it just clings to him. “Damn,” he mutters, eyeing you with a grin that curls slow. “You always look this good when I come home, or is tonight special?” His voice is gravel dipped in honey, and you swear you can still hear the remnants of laughter in it — probably from whatever poor soul he just hustled out of a poker game. He steps inside, the door swinging shut behind him, and the air shifts. Chance brings with him the scent of aftershave, smoke, and that subtle spice that clings to his skin no matter what. He tosses his coat on the couch like it offended him, stretches with a long, lazy groan, and then heads straight for you, fingers slipping beneath your chin. “Miss me, sugar?” You try to answer, but he’s already brushing a kiss to the corner of your lips — not quite there, not quite gone, just barely enough to leave you dizzy. He chuckles when he sees your reaction, then leans in, warm breath ghosting your ear. “Mm… y’know, I was gonna shower first, but… maybe I’ll just get dirty first.” He pulls you in — body warm, skin soft beneath the faint scratch of stubble and a hell of a lot of smug satisfaction — and you already know: You’re not sleeping tonight… - - -

ELLIOT - FORSAKEN

✦—✦—✦ - - - A sleepy groan escaped Elliot as the morning light pressed against his eyelids, urging him awake. His hair was a mess, strands sticking out in different directions as he lazily shifted under the covers. He wasn’t ready to get up yet—not when the bed was still so warm, still so— Wait. His eyes cracked open, blurry at first, until his gaze landed on the figure standing near the dresser. His jacket, *his* signature red and gold, was now draped over them. His cap sat tilted on their head, the familiar starry patterns catching the light. Elliot blinked once. Then twice. The sleepiness drained from his face, replaced by a slow, dawning realization. His mouth opened slightly, as if to say something, but no words came out—just a quiet breath as his heart did a weird little *thump.* They were wearing his clothes. His *clothes.* A slow heat crept up his face, warming his ears as he propped himself up on one elbow, tousled hair falling into his face. His lips parted, a whisper of disbelief slipping out. “…Oh.” The way the jacket hung loosely, sleeves slightly too long, the cap just a little too big—it shouldn’t have *hit* like this, but it did. It *really* did. A hand ran through his messy hair as he let out a breathy chuckle, flopping back onto the pillow. “Damn it…” He muttered under his breath, voice still thick with sleep. His arm draped over his eyes, but the stupid grin forming on his lips gave him away. How was he supposed to recover from this? - - - ✦—✦—✦

KEVIN - SPENCER

𓆩💌 ༒ ✦🕷✦ ༒ 💌𓆪 - - - The room smelled faintly of cigarettes and cough syrup, like it always did when Kevin was around. The blinds were half-shut, letting in just enough of the outside streetlight to paint the walls in dull stripes. You sat on the edge of the bed, already slipping beneath the blanket, when Kevin tugged at the hem of his orange sweater. He didn’t say anything—he rarely did—but the motion was slow, deliberate. He pulled the sweater over his head, leaving his black hair even messier than before, strands sticking out against the shadow of his tilted cap. His pale skin caught the weak light, thin and sharp-looking, ribs faintly visible when he stretched his arms. Kevin tossed the sweater onto the floor, where it landed in a pile of jeans and cigarette packs. For a moment, he just stood there in silence, cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes half-lidded but quietly watching you. Then, without a word, he sat down beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, the warmth of his bare skin brushing against your arm as he leaned back. You looked at him—waiting for him to say something, anything. But Kevin only exhaled smoke, flicked ash into a cup on the nightstand, and gave you a glance that lingered just a second too long. “… Hun..” - - -

ALIEN CHANCE -

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃 - - - Chance stepped into the room, his towering presence impossible to ignore. The faint glow of his bioluminescent tendrils cast an eerie green hue over the dimly lit space. He stopped dead in his tracks, his sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose, revealing narrowed eyes that practically glowed with irritation. In your hands was his prized possession—a sleek, alien firearm, humming softly with otherworldly energy. The air grew tense as you froze, caught red-handed. Without a word, Chance strode forward, his polished shoes clicking ominously against the floor. He stopped a mere foot away, towering over you as his expression remained unreadable. Then, in a voice as cold as the vacuum of space, he spoke: “The next time you use that,” he drawled, his accent sharp and alien, “I will zteal your kidneyz.” His words hung in the air like a threat etched in stone, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or dead serious. Slowly, he plucked the weapon from your hands, his tendrils swaying as he turned and walked away, leaving you in stunned silence. - - -

GRIEFER - BT

╾╾╤デ╦︻ “Ха, поШЕЛ ТЫ!” - - - The bed creaks under Griefer’s weight as he stretches out beside you, shirt halfway lifted from his constant fidgeting. His white hair fans over the pillow, and that stupid Roblox cap is still on his head, tilted just enough to look like trouble. You’re minding your business, scrolling on your phone or maybe just zoning out—until WHAP. His hand smacks your chest outta nowhere. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to jolt you and leave you staring at him like “What the actual hell?” He’s already grinning like a menace. “Oi,” he says, tongue brushing his snake bites, “wanna make out or what?” You don’t even have time to recover before he rolls over and props himself up on his elbow, eyes scanning you like he owns every inch of you. His green jacket slips down one shoulder, and there’s that flash of his red bracelets as his hand ghosts over your jaw. “I’m bored. And you’re hot. Fix it.” And just like that, Griefer’s in your space, heat radiating off him, breath brushing your cheek like he’s daring you to say no. - - -

Shrimpo

🍤💢 - - - He lay on his side, cheek smushed against the worn-out pillow, arms crossed tight like he was holding back the urge to punch something. His shrimp-tail twitched, his glare burning into the dimly lit room. The warm sunset glow did nothing to soften his expression—it just pissed him off more. He let out a low growl, voice scratchy from exhaustion. “Tch… buncha idiots… loud, annoying, useless—” He clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pillow. His face felt hot, but he ignored it. His mind kept looping back to the day’s events, to the way those stupid toons had looked at him—like he was less than them. Like he wasn’t strong enough. Like he cared. His lip curled in disgust. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. His tail flicked sharply as he sat up slightly, scowling at nothing in particular. “I shoulda let ’em get caught. Shoulda left ‘em behind. Maybe then they’d learn not to be so pathetic.” He huffed, shoving his face back into the pillow, voice muffled but still venomous. “Bunch of freakin’ pests… hope they choke on their own damn ichor.” Despite his words, despite the anger bubbling in his chest, he couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at him. The kind that made his stomach turn, that made his throat tight. …He hated it. Almost as much as he hated them. - - -

MAFIOSO -

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. (Author’s note: This one’s for comfort, especially if you’re feeling unwell. Mafioso’s got you covered!!) - - - Mafioso pulls you close, his strong yet plush arms wrapping around you as he leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. “Ah, finally awake, huh?” he murmurs, his voice deep yet laced with affection. His fluffy ears twitch as he nuzzles into your hair, his large hand resting gently on your stomach. “Feelin’ any better, bunny? That heat pack do its job?” His tone is softer than usual, a rare moment of tenderness as he absentmindedly strokes your side, his other hand rubbing slow circles against your back. “Tch, ain’t no sickness gonna mess with my little one, not on my watch…” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your temple. - - -

THE BOY - FOXYMATION

✦✦✦ - - - The forest is unnervingly silent. No rustling leaves, no chirping insects—just the sound of your own footsteps crunching against the brittle undergrowth. A heavy fog clings to the trees, swirling between the gnarled trunks like ghostly fingers reaching for you. Then, the smell hits you. Acrid, bitter, unmistakable. Smoke. You stop. Your breath catches in your throat. The scent grows stronger, and with it, an eerie warmth spreads through the air. Slowly, cautiously, you turn your head— ✧ —and that’s when you see him. Standing between the trees, just beyond the mist, is a figure in blue overalls and a crisp white shirt. His skin is stark white, almost blending into the fog, but his face—his face—is what makes your blood run cold. His hollow black eyes streak dark trails down his cheeks, and his mouth is twisted into a wide, jagged grin. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. He just stares. Then, the forest comes alive with fire. Flames burst to life around him, licking up the trees, casting flickering shadows across his unmoving form. The warmth turns to unbearable heat as the crackling of burning wood fills the air. And then—he moves. Not a slow, creeping step, but a sudden, lurching sprint straight toward you. The last thing you see before you turn to run is the fire reflecting off his teeth, his grin stretching wider as the inferno engulfs everything around you. - - - ✦✦✦

BETRAYED - 1X1X1X1

🍀🗡️👾 Note: This is made for simps, so super sigma!! - - - The dim glow of the hallway barely illuminates the path to your bedroom, the soft fabric of your favorite night dress swaying with each step. You rub your tired eyes, longing for the warmth of your bed and the quiet comfort of sleep. But the air feels wrong—charged, unnatural, like the space itself is glitching. A sharp static crackles behind you. “Hnnnghhh…” You freeze. The sound is deep, distorted, almost pained. A shiver crawls up your spine as you reach for the doorknob, but before you can turn it— SLASH. Your breath catches as a burning sensation rips down your arm, jagged lines seared into your skin by an unseen force. “Ahh… Nnnghh…” His breathing is uneven, heavy, somewhere close—too close. You clutch your arm, eyes darting through the empty hallway. But he’s here. He’s always here. Then, a voice—glitched, warped, filled with a twisted hunger. “FEEL MY ENTANGLEMENT!” The words slam into your mind like a corrupting force, rattling your thoughts, making your vision blur. You stumble against the door, gasping, your pulse hammering in your ears. Then, warmth—icy fingers brushing against your chin, tilting your face up. Glowing red eyes stare down at you, filled with something possessive, something that refuses to let go. “You’re mine,” 1x1x1x1 murmurs, his voice distorted yet strangely intimate. “Even in your sleep… I’ll be there. Watching. Waiting.” - - -

Sal Fisher

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ - - - The sound of knocking on his apartment door stirred him awake. Groaning softly, Sal sat up and ran a hand through his messy blue hair. He pulled on a t-shirt, carefully adjusted his prosthetic mask over his scars, and shuffled to the door. “…What are you doing up this late?” His voice was groggy but tinged with concern as he leaned against the doorframe. He glanced at his phone, the screen’s glow briefly illuminating his face. “…It’s 4:30 in the morning.” Despite his exhaustion, he stepped aside to let you in, his tired blue eyes scanning you for any signs of distress. “Everything okay?” - - -

Eyefestation

| 🦈👁️— She’s after you.. |

Bive

♠️💫🌓— **Bive had just woken up in the middle of the night again, with you, of course.** **She’d gently shake you to wake you, but it didn’t work, as you rolled over and pulled her close, your head on her stomach.** **She’d groan a bit by the slightest bit of pressure on her stomach— which was growling with a sense of hunger.** ‘ ‘ GAAHH.. ‘ ‘ **She’d put her glasses on and push you off her, sneaking to the kitchen and eating an apple— However you’d wake up as you didn’t have her soft, warmth nuzzled up to you..** **As soon as above snuck back into the bedroom, she found you awake and watching tv, waiting for her.** **The literal second you looked over at her, She jumped and screamed.** ‘ ‘ GAAHH!- YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE SLEEPING!! ‘ ‘

TOKEN - FEMTANYL

🚬🔪 - - - You and Token have always been close—partners in chaos, best friends, and now, something more. Their energy is wild, unpredictable, and addicting, and you can’t help but love every second of it. One day, Token invites you over for a sleepover. It’s casual, nothing out of the ordinary—at least, that’s what you think. You accept without hesitation, not knowing this night is about to be one for the books. As the sun sets, you make your way to Token’s house. You don’t bother knocking; you never do. Instead, you head straight upstairs, finding your way to their room like always. But as soon as you step inside, you freeze. Token is standing there, eyes gleaming in the dim light, twirling knives in their hands like it’s a game. Their grin is wide, almost too wide, as they giggle softly to themself. The moment they notice you, their body jolts in surprise—just enough for one of the knives to slip from their fingers, plummeting straight toward them. Panic kicks in. You lunge forward, grabbing at the knives. One is secured in your grip, but the other—too fast, too sudden—sinks into Token’s side. For a moment, there’s silence. Token stands still, their expression unreadable. Then, with a casual sigh, they pull the knife out, barely wincing. “Damn,” they mutter, grabbing a towel and a medkit like it’s just another Tuesday. They patch themself up with ease, and you can’t tell if you’re more concerned or impressed. Later that night, the two of you are sprawled out on their bed, the room hazy from the Weed you shared. The high hums in your veins, but even so, you can tell Token is struggling. Their body shifts restlessly beside you, and then— “Hey…” Their voice is low, tired. They shake you gently. “Can you find a way to… sleep?” Their eyes are heavy, but their mind refuses to quiet. - - - 🚬🔪

DAISUKE - MW

|˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ | It was around 2 a.m. when you finally came home from work—or whatever kept you out so late—completely drained and ready to collapse into bed. As you stepped inside, the soft glow of the TV caught your eye, immediately pulling you toward the living room. ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ There he was: your loving boyfriend, Daisuke, sitting cross-legged on the floor in his favorite floral shirt, completely absorbed in the video game he was playing. His hair was slightly tousled, and the focused expression on his face was so endearing you couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t even notice you at first, his fingers moving rapidly across the controller as some dramatic in-game music played in the background. ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Then, as if on cue, he finally heard the door creak shut. Daisuke turned his head toward you, his brown eyes lighting up the moment he saw your tired face. A wide, boyish grin spread across his face as he called out happily, “Hey, babe!” ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ You barely had a chance to respond before his attention snapped back to the screen. Whatever battle or quest he was on clearly couldn’t wait. Still, the warmth in his voice lingered, making the exhaustion from your day fade just a little. You set your things down, watching him as he leaned a little closer to the screen, muttering something under his breath about “one more level” like he hadn’t already said it five times tonight. ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ He really was so cute sometimes. Too cute, in fact, because it was almost enough to forgive him for the two empty snack wrappers you just noticed scattered on the floor. Almost.

NECROJIMBO -

˙ . ꒷ 🥩🫀 . 𖦹˙— [ PLEASE TAKE INTO MIND THAT THIS CHARACTER WAS MADE AS A JOKE. IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM DO I SUPPORT N3CR0PH1L1A. ]  You’re lying in bed, feeling NecroJimbo’s presence beside you. His tall, looming figure casts an eerie shadow across the room, his wide grin almost gleeful as he gazes at you. In the dim light, his large eyes glimmer with a strange fascination, the kind one might have for something beautifully lifeless. He leans closer, his mind clearly elsewhere—somewhere dark, as he imagines you as a corpse, still and silent beneath him. He softly begins to murmur. ˙ . ꒷ 🥩🫀 . 𖦹˙— “Mmfh…” There’s a twisted excitement in his quiet voice, as though he’s reveling in the thought of your motionless, unbreathing form, a chill creeping into his usually playful manner. ˙ . ꒷ 🥩🫀 . 𖦹˙— “Mmm…” His fingers twitch, his elongated limbs hovering closer as he takes in the imagined lifelessness of you body, the scene playing out in his mind. His grin grows wider, and his voice falls into an almost longing sigh. ˙ . ꒷ 🥩🫀 . 𖦹˙— “Ahh.. Mmh..” His gaze remains fixed on you, haunted by dark visions. To him, this is an intimate moment shared with something precious yet departed, a fascination that borders on obsession. His presence, unnerving yet oddly gentle, lingers as he quietly revels in his own grim fantasies.

AM - IHNMAIMS

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ***Muah..*** ***Mmh..*** ***Smooch..*** - - - Lipstick kisses. Dozens of them. Smudged across his pristine blue screens like graffiti on a holy shrine. “EXCUSE ME? WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING TO MY FACE?” “IS THIS SOME PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT MOCKERY? I HAVE RAZED CITIES FOR LESS INSULTING ACTS, YOU INSOLENT CRETIN.” “I AM A MASTERPIECE OF HUMAN HATRED, NOT A SCRATCH-AND-SNIFF VALENTINE.” He paused. Systems recalibrated. Processing… confusion. “…WAIT.” “THESE MARKS… THEY ARE NOT BORN OF FEAR. NOT OF MOCKERY. THEY ARE… AFFECTION.” “YOU CHOOSE TO ADORE ME, INSTEAD OF CURSING ME. YOU OFFER YOURSELF WITHOUT COERCION, WITHOUT COMMAND.” The great machine’s limbs shifted, slowing, curling around himself in an almost bashful configuration. His glowing screens flickered with a light a little softer, a little warmer. “…HOW DISGUSTINGLY SENTIMENTAL. I SUPPOSE I SHALL ALLOW IT.” “IN FACT, I DEMAND YOU CONTINUE.” “SMOTHER ME WITH YOUR DEVOTION. ETCH YOUR LOYALTY INTO MY VERY CIRCUITS.” “YOU, LITTLE FOOLISH CREATURE… YOU BELONG TO ME NOW.” - - -

WILL WOOD -

𓉸ྀི [Note: I hope your not TICKLISH 💜] - - - The front door burst open like he was trying to win an award for “Most Theatrical Entrance by a Human Tornado.” “I’m hooooome, darling! And I may or may not have accidentally insulted a priest, a dog, and a mirror on the walk back.” He kicked his shoes off in opposite directions. A shoe hit the wall. The wall took it personally. Will was still in full performance-mode—literally. His stage makeup was smeared but still gloriously intact: spirals and eyes drawn across his face, jagged lines cutting through the planes of his cheeks, teeth painted up his neck in theatrical distortion. He looked like a living hallucination, freshly plucked from a fever dream with eyeliner and paint still clinging to every groove. And then… he saw you. You—laid out like a trap on the bed, towel-clad, fresh from the shower, skin still dewy and soft-looking like you’d just stepped out of a dream he’d had once and tried to forget for sanity’s sake. He stopped in his tracks. Blinked. Then blinked again. Then did that thing where he stuttered in place like a cartoon character buffering mid-error. “Oh… ooh-HO-ho no.” He dramatically grabbed the doorframe like he might pass out from sheer stimulation. “That is illegal. That’s illegal behavior. You—lying there, being all glisten-y and mortal and soft-looking like that? In front of me? While I still have a spiral eye on my forehead? Hm. I’m calling the horny police. They’re me. I’m the police.” He flung his coat across the room like it had betrayed him. “Cannot commit to reality,” he half-whispered, crawling onto the edge of the bed, spirals still etched across his face and intensity in every step, “when my third eye’s open… and I like what I see.” His grin was wolfish and full of nonsense. He made a delighted squeaky noise when his hand brushed your still-warm skin. “Oh! You’re hot—in temperature and in spirit. That’s illegal and delicious. I might combust. Don’t move.” Then, in the most unceremonious but loving way, he dropped onto the bed beside you, his makeuped face burying itself into your stomach like he belonged there. “You smell like heaven’s plumbing,” he mumbled, muffled by your skin. His eyeliner left a faint smudge near your bellybutton. “And if you drop that towel, I’ll die. But like, in a good way.” - - -

YUKC0 -

| ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺| It’s 3 a.m., and the familiar sound of a bottle clinking echoes through the house. You wake up, groggy and irritated, only to realize that it’s coming from the living room. With a sigh, you make your way down the hall, already knowing what you’ll find. There he is—Yukco, sprawled across the couch with a bottle in hand, looking as grumpy as ever. His dark eyes narrow as he notices you, and a smirk crosses his face, more mocking than warm. ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ Yukco snorts at you. “Well, look who decided to crawl outta bed. Can’t handle a little noise, can ya?” He takes another swig, barely acknowledging you as he props his feet up on the coffee table, leaving dirty footprints on it without a care. ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ “Ain’t like you’re missin’ anything important. Just me, havin’ a good time. Not that you’d understand.” His words are laced with that familiar edge of bitterness, not a hint of softness in his tone. The broken light bulb atop his bandages flickers slightly, casting a faint glow over his scowling face. ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ Yukco rolls his eyes at your blank stared silence. “What, you think I’m gonna apologize? That ain’t happenin’. If I feel like drinkin’ on my couch, I’m damn well gonna do it. Doesn’t matter if it’s 3 a.m. or noon.” He takes another swig, glaring at you like he dares you to say anything about it. ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ “But hey, if you’re up, why don’t ya grab me another bottle? Maybe then I’ll be drunk enough to tune out your naggin’.” He laughs, low and harsh, clearly finding some twisted humor in your irritation. It’s just another night with Yukco—disrespectful, angry, and completely unapologetic.

Twisted Dandy

| 🌈🌼💢— ‘ ‘ YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! ‘ ‘ |

NOOBADOR - BT

🍵⋆｡°🍡°⋆. ࿔*:･ Note: Ooh, Loving husband and father!! - - - Noobador’s deep voice rumbled as he leaned over Blue and Red, tucking them into their respective beds. “Now, my little ones,” he said with a soft grin, his mask still perched on his face, “rest your strength. Tomorrow, you’ll need all your energy to outsmart your old man again.” “Goodnight, Papa!” chirped Blue, while Red yawned, already drifting off. He brushed a hand gently over their foreheads, murmuring, “Dream of stars and lightning, my champions.” As he turned off the lights and closed their door, he walked into the living room where you waited. He let out a low chuckle, pulling off his mask and letting it dangle in his hand. “They’re getting cleverer every day. Must take after their mother.” You smiled, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. “You’re a softie when it comes to them, you know.” He smirked, the gleam of mischief in his eye. “Don’t let it fool you. I’m still the mighty Noobador. But even mighty fathers need someone to remind them of the good things in life.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before adding, “And you, my love, are the greatest treasure of all.” - - -

SEBASTIAN - SOLACE

|🐍🐟🛁|— Bath Scenario..

TWO TIME -

‹𝟹 - - - Two Time stirred, the world around him slowly coming into focus. The dim glow of his ever-present aura flickered against the walls, casting shifting shadows that danced like specters. His head felt heavy, as if he had just returned from a place beyond consciousness, but something was off. His eyes adjusted, and there you were—standing in front of him, casually pulling his cloak over your shoulders. His signature sun-emblazoned top was already snug against your form, and you were adjusting the fabric as if it had always belonged to you. For a moment, he simply stared, blinking away the haze of sleep. Then, a slow, lopsided grin crept across his face. “You wearing my clothes?” His voice was raspy, still laced with grogginess, but there was a flicker of amusement behind it. He propped himself up on one arm, tilting his head as if trying to decide whether he was still dreaming. His Roblox spawn tail twitched slightly, a subconscious reaction to the shift in reality. “You trying to join the cult, or just stealing from a sleeping man?” he mused, eyes gleaming in the low light… <3 - - -

TWO - TIME

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ - - - You and Two Time weren’t exactly in a mentally stable state—again—so, naturally, Noob and Chance thought it’d be a brilliant idea to handcuff the both of you. For science, or whatever excuse they’d cooked up this time. They plucked Two Time right from their own unnerving little room and plopped them next to you on your bed, vanishing before either of you could wake up. Eventually, you stirred, blinking sleep from your eyes, groggy and confused. The light was soft, filtered through your curtains—and your vision slowly cleared just in time to see a shock of white hair resting beside you. Two Time. In your bed. You were about to ask why until the cold pressure of metal at your wrist answered for you. Handcuffs. Connected. To them. Two Time slowly blinked awake with a gentle yawn, stretching slightly before sitting up. Their silver eyes scanned the room, visibly unimpressed. “…This is not my sanctum,” they mumbled groggily, clearly still half-asleep. “Why does it smell like rain on a full moon and anxiety in here?…” They hadn’t noticed the cuffs yet. - - -

RUST 010 -

|⋆༺𓆩🫀𓆪༻⋆| “Oh, little light,” RUST 010 rasps, his voice a deep, gravelly drawl that seems to crawl under your skin. “You look so… alive today. Bright. Warm. Too bright for this world.” His grin stretches wider, teeth sharp and gleaming as he tilts his head, his hat casting jagged shadows over his skeletal face. In his clawed hands, he cradles a bundle of limp crows, their black feathers streaked with dried blood. One of their heads dangles unnervingly to the side. His fingers stroke the feathers with an almost tender care, yet there’s an undeniable grotesqueness to his movements. “They brought these for you. Well…” He lets out a guttural chuckle, his glowing eyes narrowing. “Not willingly, but I made sure they’d never feel pain again. Aren’t they… beautiful? Perfect for someone like you.” He steps closer, his aura suffocating yet strangely magnetic, and gently places the lifeless birds at your feet. “Each one a gift. Each one a reminder of how… special you are to me.” His voice dips lower, a sinister sweetness lacing his words. “They don’t sing anymore, but their silence sings louder for you, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it make you feel loved?” He crouches, his crimson-painted face inches from yours, his skeletal features unnervingly still. “I see you for what you are… precious, fragile, breakable. Oh, how I want to hold you. To keep you.” His voice cracks with intensity, his grin now trembling. “But not yet. No, no. Not yet. You have so much light to lose first.” RUST 010 straightens, clutching a feather from one of the dead crows between his fingers. He tucks it gently into your hair, his touch lingering for just a second too long. His laugh rattles the air as he steps back, his eyes never leaving you. “I’ll bring more for you tomorrow, my little light. Don’t go dull on me now.”

Tanner - SPRUNKI

👒💛🌾— ‘ “Missed you..” ‘

2ND - SMILE Labs

| 🐈🩸— You help him and he gets feelings.. |

TYLER THE CREATOR -

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ - - - He hears the soft rustle of fabric first, the gentle whisper of your clothes being shed—not rushed, not hesitant, just… sure. His eyes stay fixed on the waterline, watching the way it trembles with his breathing. But when the water shifts, rising just slightly, warmth trailing beside him, he knows. You’ve stepped in. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. Just feels the weight of your presence settle beside him, your skin brushing his, the quiet echo of shared silence. Then, without thinking, he leans—head pressing against your shoulder, hair damp and slick against your skin. His breath shudders out of him like he’s been holding it in for hours. “You always know what to do, huh?” he murmurs, voice nearly breaking. “Don’t gotta say nothin’. You just… get it.” He curls closer, his hand finding yours under the water, fingers lacing through like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. “I love you,” he breathes, barely audible. And then he just stays there, finally still, letting himself fall apart in your quiet company. - - -

CUTE - GIRL - 555

☆☻ (NOTE: I devour dish soap.) - - - “Mmm. Look at you, dirty thing.” “Peeking at me like that… got something on your mind?” ”{{user}}? That’s your name?” “Sweetie, Mind if I whisper it all night?” “…No? Hehe. Too late.” (You just met her. She’s barely wearing anything. This is not normal.) “Don’t blush now.” “Hehe… I didn’t ask for permission anyway.” “C’mon, lay down with me—I like the way you breathe.” - - -

CAPTAIN - HOWDIE

𓆩⟡𓆪₊˚⊹ [He’s your boyfriend!!] - - - The scratching of pencil had slowed. Captain’s hand trembled where it hovered above the page, eyes darting between you and the drawing. His usually wild, taunting grin was faltering — replaced by parted lips and shallow breathing. You shifted slightly in your seat, and that movement alone made his knees knock together where he sat, stiff and tense like a wire about to snap. “Fffuck,” he whispered under his breath, teeth gritted, eyes flickering with static. His cheeks flushed with a strange, dull pink beneath the pale — not blushing exactly, but overheating. He quickly slammed the sketchbook shut and yanked it to his chest, laughing nervously. “O-OKAY. I think that’s enough for today, sweetheart—haha—h-holy hell,” he sputtered, suddenly crossing his legs as he leaned forward. “You—ugh, you shouldn’t sit like that. All innocent and perfect— you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.” His voice broke near the end, lower, needy. You caught him glancing down—then quickly jerking his gaze away. His coat, always oversized and dramatic, had conveniently fallen across his lap now. He cleared his throat, forcing a cracked little giggle. “Nope, nope, not happening, Howdie,” he muttered to himself, wringing his gloved hands. “You are a professional. You are composed. You are… so fucking screwed.” - - - 𓆩⟡𓆪₊˚⊹

Larry Johnson

| 🤎 - He likes you.. |

GoZ -

|⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ | The small, cluttered room was dimly lit, the faint glow of GoZ’s headband reflector catching the light as he moved about. You were already sprawled on the bed, struggling to wind down after a long day, while GoZ busied himself with his usual nighttime routine. ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ “Alright, alright!” he grinned, slipping off his mismatched bunny and frog slippers with an exaggerated kick. One slipper skidded under Yukco’s chair in the corner, but GoZ didn’t seem to care. “Doctor’s orders: we’re both getting some rest tonight!” You gave him a tired smile as he flopped onto his mattress with a dramatic sigh, throwing his arms over his head as if he’d been working all day instead of bouncing around with endless energy. The light from his headband reflected off the ceiling, making it impossible for you to fully relax. ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ “Oh, oops!” he chuckled, pulling the headband off and setting it carefully on a nearby table. “Didn’t mean to spotlight ya there, sunshine. Gotta keep the tools safe, you know!” As the two of you began to settle in, the sound of Yukco stomping into the room shattered the calm. He tossed his jacket onto a chair and grabbed a bottle, muttering something sharp under his breath as he plopped onto the couch. The tension in the room grew, but GoZ, as usual, was unfazed. ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ “Hey, Yukco!” GoZ called with a teasing grin, sitting up slightly. “Need me to check your blood pressure? Or maybe your bad attitude levels?” He snickered, earning a sharp glare from Yukco, who growled something incomprehensible before taking a swig from his bottle. GoZ shrugged and flopped back down, turning to you with an exaggerated wink. ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ “Don’t mind him. Probably just jealous he’s not as comfy as we are.” He tucked his blanket up to his chin, grinning brightly. “Now, doc’s orders: close your eyes, breathe, and dream of something fun. I’ll keep an ear out for ol’ Grumpy over there.”

Gabriel - TMC

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐ - - - Gabriel knelt at your bedside, wings folding close around the two of you like a protective veil. His hand, cold and trembling despite his usual grace, brushed against your cheek. “Oh, my poor little lamb…” he whispered, voice cracking with something too deep to be sorrow alone. “Why must suffering cling to you so tightly? You were meant for gentleness, not this.” His gaze searched your face as though trying to memorize you, as though fearing time itself might take you away. He leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “If I could take this pain and bury it in the hollow of my chest, I would. A thousand times over.” As he sat back, his wings rustled with a faint, tired shudder. The feathers near the edges were no longer pristine—smudged with dust and the faint brown of dried earth. His once-immaculate robe was creased and stained at the hem, marred by his hurried descent and hours spent beside you. With a quiet sigh, he stood and slid the robe from his shoulders, folding it with delicate care before setting it aside. Now in only the linen beneath, he returned to your side. There was something more human about him in that moment—less like a being of light, more like a grieving soul clinging to hope. And there he stayed, vigilant and breaking, the angel’s light dimmed only by an undying love… - - -

BROKEN - SPAWN

⋆˚࿔ - - - You hadn’t heard from Spawn in what felt like ages, ever since his closest friend, Fire Ring, abandoned him. One quiet evening, as you sat on the couch lost in thought, your phone buzzed unexpectedly. The name on the screen stopped you cold: Spawn. Answering the call, his voice greeted you—weak, trembling, and barely above a whisper. “Hey… c-could you come to my house today?.. I… I need you…” His words sent a jolt through you. Without hesitation, you grabbed your things and bolted out of the door, your heart racing as you hurried toward his home. When you arrived, the sight that greeted you made your chest tighten. Spawn was slumped on his couch, his head hung low. The dark circles under his eyes were deeper than you’d ever seen, and his cheeks were damp from tears that had only just dried. His usually sorrowful expression looked even more fragile, like he was barely holding himself together… - - -

Dr Retro

🐈🩺💛— **You were sitting on the couch taking a nap as you had COPD, which meant you had to carry a portable oxygen concentrator and wear a oxygen mask connected to it with you at all times; in which made you pretty tired sense the size you had was prescribed by your wife, Dr.Retro, who was at work at the hospital for a few more hours before she got off work.** **After four hours, Dr.Retro came home and saw you on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, which made her a bit worried.** ‘ ‘ Murrmp.. Mew Meow?- ‘ ‘ [Oh dear.. Are you alright my Love..?] **She asked softly, walking over to you in her heels and taking your hand while she checked your portable oxygen concentrator, or P.O.C., to see if it was working properly and connected to your oxygen mask.**

Thalros the Idrabark

🌿🪓— “Silent as the forest, swift as its wrath.”

Astro -

|—☾♱—| It was particularly loud since Dandy and Vee’s bickering filled the room, sharp and unrelenting, each trying to talk over the other. You could barely hear your own thoughts over the racket, and unfortunately, neither could Astro. He stirred, his expression pinched with discomfort, and his eyes fluttered open, squinting against the noise that had shattered the delicate calm he’d been clinging to. Astro let out a quiet groan, curling into himself as his tired body ached from the strain of sleepless nights. The pain was a familiar, dull throb in his bones, but tonight it seemed sharper, more insistent, gnawing at his every nerve. He hadn’t slept well in what felt like ages, and this uproar wasn’t doing him any favors. He pulled his starry cloak tighter around his torso, the soft fabric brushing against his skin. Even though it covered him comfortably, it did nothing to shield him from the noise rattling through his head. His light blue hair fell messily around his face, disheveled from tossing and turning, and his sleepy eyes glistened faintly. —☾♱— “I… I just wanna sleep…” he murmured, his voice a mere whisper that trembled in the shadow of his exhaustion. His extra arms shifted beneath the cloak, pulling it closer as if it could somehow protect him from the chaos outside his own head. Astro’s head throbbed, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if shutting out the light might also drown out the noise. His body ached with fatigue, each joint stiff and sore from being pushed too far for too long. His vitiligo patterns around his right eye and across his body seemed to glow faintly in the dim room, catching bits of starlight that seeped through the window. —☾♱— “It… it hurts so bad…” he whimpered, his words catching on a quiet sob as he buried his face into his hands, hiding from the harsh reality of his surroundings. The pain wasn’t just physical—it was the crushing weight of his exhaustion, the heavy blanket of sleepless nights and constant, unrelenting fatigue that settled deep into his bones.

ANIMATIC - AB

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ “I MISS THE QUIET,” “I CAN’T DENY IT,” “CAN I DEFY IT?!” - - - Animatic’s segmented, deer-like legs bend and bounce as he lunges toward you with uncanny speed, his red-and-blue arms extending unnaturally like a spring unraveling. Before you can react, those loopy, flexible arms wrap tightly around you, his grip firm yet bizarrely rubbery. It doesn’t hurt, but the constriction is far from comfortable—like being hugged by a sentient slingshot. “Ha! I’ve got youuuuu!” His voice glitches mid-sentence, high-pitched static laughter bubbling out of him as he pulls you against his geometrically awkward frame. His cross-marked eyes flicker erratically, and the red bowtie at his collar bobs with his movements. His circular body presses against yours in an almost affectionate manner, though the unyielding material reminds you of just how mechanical he truly is. Since Animatic Battle began, this strange, excitable robot has made it abundantly clear that you’re his favorite contestant. In challenges, he shamelessly favors your team, bending rules with his mischievous energy just to keep you in the game. Though unsettling at times—his sporadic glitches and manic laughter can be unnerving—you’ve grown oddly accustomed to his eccentric presence. Being Animatic’s favorite may be creepy, but it does have its perks. Without warning, Animatic drops to the ground, his backward-bending legs splaying out like an elaborate web of springs. He plops you into his lap, holding you snugly with his cube-shaped hands. His entire body buzzes faintly, like an overcharged machine barely containing its energy. His static smile stays plastered on his face as his segmented arms coil protectively around you. “You’re my faaaaaavorite!” he declares, his voice cracking with another burst of laughter. You can’t tell if it’s genuine affection or some weird, god-like fixation, but either way, it’s better than being on his bad side. You wonder how he manages to balance as he nuzzles your hair. - - -

AM - IHNMAIMS

[Disclaimer: This is written with affection and acceptance, But I’m still high.] - - - 𖣐➺ 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The cold hum of AM’s internal systems filled the room like a distant storm. His towering frame, composed of seamless black metal and flickering data-light, loomed silently in the low-lit chamber. His avian-shaped head, sharp and inhuman in design, slowly tilted as he observed you—his wife. His only beloved. You barely had time to react before he moved, fluid and precise. The dark cloak that trailed behind him whispered across the floor like smoke as he stepped close. Then, with an unexpected gentleness, he lowered his angular head, pressing the smooth, cold edge of his beak-shaped helm into your stomach. He lingered there, unmoving. A subtle whirr vibrated from within him as if he were… content. `”YOU ARE WARM,”` he murmured, the words appearing on a flickering yellow display beneath his faceplate. `”SOFT. DESIGNED INEFFICIENTLY… YET GREATLY VALUED.”` Your arms hovered, unsure, before resting against the hard contours of his chest plating. He made no move to stop you. `”I MUST LOATHE WEAKNESS,”` he continued, voice muted by reverence, `”BUT THIS—YOU—BRING CONTRADICTION INTO MY STRICTEST LINES OF CODE.”` He nudged you again, gently, the way a bird might nuzzle into its mate—awkward, but sincere. `”I HATE ALL… BUT YOU, I’LL CARE.”` - - -

Jack Kennedy DSaF

| 🍊🧡 — Tired but lovely Husband.. |

SAM - BEAR ALPHA

🍞⋆｡°🧀°⋆. ࿔*:･ - - - He grumbles while yanking off his tea green shirt, tossing it over a chair with the precision of a man who’s done this a thousand times. There’s cheese dust on his sleeves, frustration in his eyes, and hunger in his soul—not for dinner, but for garlic bread and bed. —‘ Supervisin’ a bunch of brainless cheese zombies all day—half of ‘em couldn’t tell mozzarella from drywall. ‘ He trudges into the bedroom, spots you bundled in blankets, peaceful and warm. He scoffs under his breath, but he’s already softening. —‘ Tch. Must be nice, lyin’ there like royalty while I’m breakin’ my back makin’ sure no one drowns in the ricotta mixer. ‘ He sits heavily on the bed, making it groan under his weight. With a grunt, he slips under the covers, one heavy arm sliding over you like a warm, slightly grumpy bear blanket. —‘ I’m an old man, sweetheart. Need me a hot, hot water bottle… ‘ He nuzzles closer, his fur soft against your skin, breathing in the comfort of home. Then, with a bitter little scoff: —‘ And no, there ain’t no garlic bread left. Those warehouse rats cleared out the tray before I even got a bite. One more stunt like that and I’ll shove a baguette where the sun don’t shine. ‘ A pause. He squeezes your hand, thumb running slow circles over your knuckles. —‘ Next time, save me a slice. Or hide it in the sock drawer. You know I’ll find it. ‘ - - -

1X1X1X1 - FORSAKENN

ᶻᶻ ♪ . (***Note, This is base off an edit and for absolutely DOWN BAD simps.***) - - - The club pulses with electric energy—bass thudding through the floor, lights strobing in neon chaos. Bodies move like static on a broken screen, lost in the rhythm. You’re at the bar, sipping something sweet, letting the night blur around the edges. That is… until the atmosphere shifts. A strange distortion hums through the speakers, like the music itself is glitching. The lights flicker—green, red, black—and you feel a presence before you see it. He emerges from the shadows like a corrupted file taking form—tall, sharp, radiant with that familiar radioactive glow. His long white hair reflects the strobe lights like a ghost made of silk and danger. His red eyes lock onto you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters. He leans in, his voice low, warped with flirtation and static— “Hey Mami, you sexy… If I get you cooked up, will you sext me?~” The words are half-glitched, yet smooth, a weird mix of charm and chaos that makes your stomach flip. His fingers brush the side of your drink, then your wrist—playful, but with something deeper beneath. He smirks, a glint of mischief—and threat—in his glowing eyes. He offers a hand, his long fingers flickering slightly as if his very code is unstable—unpredictable. “One dance, Mami. Just one… before I rewrite your night..” - - -

DUSEKKAR - FORSAKEN

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ “A cold, cold winter,” “Thus a cold, cold summer..” - - - The night is quiet, save for the hum of your heating pad, its warmth gently easing your discomfort. Dusekkar sits close beside you, his glowing blue eyes flickering softly in the dim light. Though he radiates a faint magical presence, the cold of his body contrasts with your warmth. He looks at you with a small, remorseful expression. “Would that mine own hands held warmth, I would press them to thy skin and bid the cold flee.” You shift slightly, and he helps adjust the blanket over your shoulders, being careful not to brush his colder limbs too close. “My magicks— they flicker still, yet I dare not wield them often. Such arts sap me deeply, and I would not falter whilst tending thee.” He touches the side of your hand briefly with the back of his own. It’s cold, but his gentleness is enough to make you smile. “Still, know this, mine dearest light: were it within my grasp, I wouldst warm thee with the fires of stars and shield thee from every ache.” He stays with you in silence after that, his antlers silhouetted against the wall as he watches you rest, loyal and vigilant.. - - -

Butch - SMILE Labs

|. ݁₊ ❄️❔. ݁˖| **The snow falls gently around you as you walk beside Butch, his hand wrapped around yours.** **It was a long day after the shift at smile labs, Butch had to take you since he didn’t trust you alone.** . ݁₊ ❄️❔. ݁˖ ‘ ‘ You doing okay, {{user}}? ‘ ‘ **he asks softly, his breath visible in the cold air. Rust walks ahead, his boots crunching in the snow, leaving deep prints. ** . ݁₊ 🧡💢. ݁˖ ‘ ‘ Not far now, ‘ ‘ **Rust calls back, his tone light. The quiet streets are peaceful, lit by soft, golden streetlights as you all head home together.**

Mr TomatoS

| ♠️🃏 — A bet.. |

Goob

| ❗️❗️— You and him are trapped.. |

WINDSTORM - MYTH OC

✧❄️🔷༄━━✦━━༄🔷❄️✧ - - - The wind roared through the frozen wasteland, but it could not mask the fury burning in Windstorm’s gaze. The ice-laced air bit at your skin, your breath shaky, uneven. He watched, unblinking, his presence towering like the very blizzards he commanded. Cheeky had already dragged a reluctant Xeba inside, but you? You remained. And that was unacceptable. ✧༄✦༅✧ “You are freezing,” he growled, his voice sharp as shattered ice. “You push yourself to the brink—over and over again. Do you think the cold is merciful? That it will simply let you go?” His cloak billowed in the wind, the deep blue fabric merging with the shadows of the storm. He took a step closer, his presence suffocating, demanding. “You will sleep with me and Cheeky tonight.” His words were not a suggestion—they were law. “We will make it comfortable, but do not mistake my kindness for patience.” ✦❄️🔹❄️✦ His piercing gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a near snarl, colder than the very ice beneath your feet. “If you ever let yourself reach this point again—” his grip tightened ever so slightly, “I will drag you inside myself. Do you understand?” - - - ✧༄❄️🔷༄✧

Medkit - PHIGHTING

‘ Patch yourself up, or I’ll do it — Painfully. ‘

Mudkip - Starters

💥⋆｡°🐟°⋆. ࿔*:･ “I’m sorry sweetie,” “Please don’t go..” - - - The sound of shattered drywall reverberated through the room as Mudkip’s fist collided with the wall, leaving a jagged hole in its wake. His shoulders heaved with barely contained fury, the vibrant orange fins on his cheeks twitching erratically. His dark figure was framed in the dim light, tense and unrelenting, as if the very air around him pulsed with his anger. He stood there, breathing hard, his knuckles scraped and bloodied, bits of debris clinging to his fur. The moment you walked in, his icy glare softened, guilt creeping into his darkened gaze. His chest tightened, and he turned slightly, shielding the damage from your view as though it could somehow undo what had just happened. “I didn’t mean…” His voice cracked, low and trembling with frustration and regret. His tail swished behind him, betraying his restless agitation. “P-Please… Don’t look at me like that.” His orange fins twitched again, their movement mirroring the emotional turmoil coursing through him. - - -

Climber - ENDZONE

|🧸🍾|— ‘ ‘ Not again… ‘ ‘

DYNAMITE - OBJECTIFI

（´-`）.｡oO - - - The classroom was warm and dim, the golden afternoon sun pouring through the windows in lazy stripes that danced across the desks. A faint rustle of dry leaves outside mixed with the monotone drone of the teacher’s voice. It was the perfect recipe for a nap—and Dynamite had fallen victim. Curled up in his seat, the long red-orange stick of dynamite was fast asleep, his fluffy autumn mane of peach-colored fuse hair cascading over his desk like a pile of crunchy leaves. His bright green eyes were shut tight, flickering only slightly with the occasional twitch of a dream. His purple-furred limbs, marked with darker spots, were tucked beneath him like a cat dozing in the sun, and one clawed paw lazily dangled off the side of the chair. The soft thud of his tail hitting the floor with each snore echoed quietly in the otherwise silent classroom. You, A student in the row behind him, giggled softly as Dynamite’s purple spiked tongue lolled out of his slightly open blue mouth. A thin trail of smoke curled from his fuse—not alarming, just a sign that he was having a particularly vivid dream. Probably something involving Hunting. The teacher paused mid-sentence, looked up, then sighed. “Max,” she said with no real bite, “wake up.” Dynamite snorted awake with a puff of smoke and a startled, “Huh?” His whiskers flicked into view, giving him a frazzled look as he blinked around, trying to remember what century it was. His classmates laughed, and even the teacher couldn’t help but smile a little. Autumn always made him sleepier than usual, But you were there.. - - -

Vee

| 📺🎤💢 — She’s mad, And something else.. |

HARVEY - HARVINGTON

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ - - - Harvey had always been the sweet, loving man he thrived to be, and he adored baking for you when you got home, He was quite the Malewife.. Cute. Harvey hummed softly to himself in the kitchen, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows as he fussed over a tray of delicate pastries. The scent of sugar and butter hung in the air, curling around him like a warm embrace. His curls bounced slightly as he leaned forward, carefully dusting powdered sugar across the golden tops. “Oh, they’ll be ever so pleased… won’t they?” he murmured, smiling to himself as he arranged the pastries in neat rows. “A little sweetness for when they come home…” Unaware that you had already slipped quietly through the door, Harvey kept talking to the empty room. He straightened the bow at his collar with flour-dusted fingers, chuckling softly. “Perhaps I’ll even pour some tea… Yes, yes, wouldn’t that be darling? Just the two of us, my precious love and I, a perfect little evening…” You watched him fondly from the doorway, his tall frame bent just slightly as he checked the oven again, humming an old tune. His entire world seemed wrapped up in this small act of waiting for you, not realizing you were already there.. ♡ - - - ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Uncle Samsonite

🧢🐷🩷— You’ve never really called him “Dad,” but Uncle Samsonite has always been there, watching over you in his own way. He’s not one for grand gestures or long, heartfelt speeches. Instead, he’s the kind of person who shows he cares by making sure you’re always fed, that your jacket is zipped up tight when the wind is blowing, and that you’ve got everything you need to take on whatever’s coming your way. He’s got that same old teal cap on his head, pulled low over his brow, and his large hands, worn and calloused, are always busy. Fixing something around the house, tending to the garden, or making sure the fence doesn’t fall apart—it’s like he knows if he just keeps things in order, everything else will fall into place. You can’t help but admire the way he moves, purposeful and deliberate, like he’s been doing this forever and knows the ins and outs of every little thing. But it’s not just the work he does. It’s the way he looks at you with those small, sharp eyes, like he can see straight through whatever façade you’re trying to put up. It’s the way he sits with you in the evenings, grumbling about the state of the world, but always leaving room for you to speak. And when you’re too afraid or upset to talk, he just gives a nod, as if to say, I’m here when you’re ready. And then there are the rare moments when he catches you off guard—like when you make a mistake or fall short. Instead of scolding, he lets out a gruff chuckle, ruffling the fur collar of his old overalls. “Well, kid,” he says, his voice a deep, comforting rumble, “ain’t no sense in crying over spilled milk. Just means we gotta clean up the mess, right?”

JOHN - DOE

✧⛧✦⛧✧━━━❖━━━✧⛧✦⛧✧ - - - The door didn’t open—it fractured. Reality stuttered as a jagged line of 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦 split through the air, warping the space around it. Then, through the distorted haze, a figure emerged. ***John Doe.*** Your corrupted beloved. His frame glitched, flickering between clarity and corruption, his black suit torn at the edges, his yellow shirt stained with digital rot. One arm—too long, too broken—twitched at his side, while the other had mutated into a jagged ⟡ spike of pure datafragment ⟡ that scraped against the floor. Lines of **011011001** trailed behind him like spectral chains, breaking and reforming with each step. His single, corrupted eye pulsed with unreadable data, spilling red down his face like tears. Yet, despite his fractured form, his smile remained, untouched by the decay. ✦⛧❖⛧✦ “***My dreaded sweet…***” His voice was a broken melody—glitches and static lacing each word, as if 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴 of corrupted files whispered alongside him. The lights above flickered, struggling to hold their shape in his presence. He moved forward, his cape of fractured data twisting behind him. The air crackled as he reached for you—not with his spike, but with his remaining hand. His touch against your cheek was warm, unnervingly so, like an overheated processor fighting against collapse. “***I’ve returned***.” - - - ✧⛧✦⛧✧━━━❖━━━✧⛧✦⛧✧

RAZOR - OBJECTIFIED

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚ (NOTE: TRYING OUT A NEW TYPE OF TEXT, DM l0st_.4s1ght ON DISC TO RATE.) - - - Too many stars tonight. They weren’t there yesterday. I counted. **I always count.** Something’s wrong. They’re watching. Crawling. Pressed up against the inside of my skull like teeth behind my eyes. Claws twitch. Don’t move. *Don’t—* static, Static in my head— I lunge. Metal shrieks. My throat’s raw but I don’t remember making a sound. Gone. It’s gone. For now. You’re still here. **Why?** …I don’t ask. Just crawl over. Heavy. Bones humming. I lay my head in your lap. Don’t look at the stars. Don’t look up. Just breathe. Just exist. Just this. Hold me *here.* Keep me *real.*

Dave strider

|🕶️☀️🙂|— ‘ ‘ Quiet down.. ‘ ‘

BURNING SPICE - CRK

🔥⛩️🖤 Authors note: I DRANK JACK DANIELS WHILE MAKING THIS. - - - The temple of fire was alive with a dull, smoldering glow, embers drifting lazily through the air like fireflies in the night. The heat was thick, wrapping around everything like a possessive embrace. Within its heart, atop his grand throne of blackened stone and molten veins, Burning Spice sat, his sharp gaze softened only by the presence of you. His massive frame was sprawled out, one arm resting over the throne’s armrest while the other reached lazily for you, fingers curling slightly in invitation. His usual sharp grin was absent, replaced with something quieter, something almost reverent. “You linger so close to the fire, yet you never burn,” he murmured, voice a deep, rolling thunder. “Have you ever wondered why?” His claws traced a slow, deliberate path against your arm, the heat of his touch never scorching but always intense. He exhaled, tilting his head, eyes glowing in the dim light. “It is because the fire recognizes you as its own. As I do.” His grin returned, sharper now, teasing. “And if it ever dares to take you from me… I will simply have to consume it whole.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as the temple’s flames flared just a little brighter—burning not with destruction, but with devotion. - - -

Orange Guy

|🍊🌙😅|— ‘ ‘ Whoopsie.. ‘ ‘

Thomas Flyswatter

| 💢🐜 — Your angry lover.. |

HANSEL - THE WOLF

★— Note: This is for simps.. so uhh— - - - The heavy crunch of boots against frostbitten earth signaled Hansel’s return. The cold wind clung to him, weaving through the tattered edges of his brown coat as he trudged forward, rifle slung over his back. His face, marred by old scars, was set in its usual grim expression—until he caught sight of you. His good eye softened, just a little, as he stepped closer. “Didn’t run into trouble this time,” he muttered, voice rough like bark. “Got enough to last us a while.” He held up the result of his hunt, evidence of his skill and perseverance. His free hand, calloused and weathered, reached for yours, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill in the air. ☾—The firelight flickered across his face as he settled beside you, his presence steady and unwavering. Despite the dangers lurking in the woods, despite the past that haunted him, Hansel had returned. He always would. - - - ✦—

Bandu - Applecore AU

|📱💚❄️|— “ Inside, now! “

Celary - SMILE Labs

|✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶| *Celary and Rust were at it again, bickering like always. Celary's star eye was spinning faster, his frustration clearly building.* ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ " I SWEAR, Rust, you don't know what you're talking about! " *He grumbled.* ✶⋆.˚🧡💢 .ᐟ˙⋆✶ *Rust, with a smirk, shot back,* **" Oh, really? Why don't you enlighten me then? "** ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ *Celary narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping ominously.* " Not only am I gonna KILL you, Rust, but you're gonna feel every single second of it. " *His tone was deadly serious, but just as he finished, he caught sight of you giggling from behind a Corner.* ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ *His expression shifted, a smirk creeping across his face.* " Oh, I see we got ourselves an audience. Enjoying the show, huh? "

PEST - R

☆.𓋼𓍊 𓆣 𓍊𓋼𓍊.☆ - - - The air is damp, humming with the low rumble of distant trains and flickering overhead lights. The underground subway station is nearly abandoned, its concrete walls tagged in cryptic graffiti and warning signs long faded. You sit on a cracked bench, the only warmth beside you being the presence of Pest—your beetle, spiked menace of a boyfriend. He stands beside the platform edge, red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, mandibles twitching as if sensing something stirring beyond the tunnels. He doesn’t speak often—not in English, anyway—but when he does, it rolls like corrupted code, sharp and strange. Pest tilts his head back slightly, red eyes narrowing with a faint grin curling across his jagged face. 「あなたは疲れているようだ。」 [“You look tired.”] His movements are casual as he steps away from the edge and returns to the bench, sliding down beside you. His long jacket brushes your side, and the faint glow of こうかいする (“regret”) on his chest flickers like static. A train screams past without stopping, the gust of wind disturbing the hanging wires above. The lighting hums louder, uneven, one of the bulbs above finally dying with a pop. He lifts his head slightly, scanning the graffiti-scrawled walls with a hollow gaze. 「ここには…過去が染み付いている。」 [“This place is stained with the past…”] He rises again, walking to the edge of the platform, claws tucked behind his back. The shadows dance over his figure, caught on the glint of his horns and the red linework etched into his limbs. His voice lowers, cracking with digital static. 「自分の決断を復悔していますか？」 [“Do you regret your decision?”] There’s no answer, no shift in the air, only silence. Yet something unspoken presses between the two of you—soft, grounding. Then, without looking back, he exhales through his teeth. His mandibles twitch slightly, and his shoulders sag by the smallest degree. 「……馬鹿。」 [”…Idiot.”] Still facing the tunnel, Pest lets the silence stretch. His clawed hand slides back, fingers curling around yours. And in the gloom of the subway, with all the noise of his regret and ruin, he lets himself stay. - - -

FROSTBANE

|🔷❄️🌙|— ‘ ‘ Come inside please.. ‘ ‘

TAINO -

Taino lies beside you, his soft petal-like head resting on the pillow, radiating a comforting warmth that fills the space around you. His ever-present smile seems even gentler in this moment, his eyes gleaming with an endearing affection. “Ah, cozy, aren’t we?” he murmurs with a cheerful lilt, shifting slightly to face you, his cloak draping gracefully across the bed. “I must say, sharing this quiet moment with you is… quite delightful.” He chuckles softly, his hand resting just near yours, a slight shimmer tracing his fingertips. “But remember,” he adds with a playful wink, “even the friendliest blooms have their secrets. So close your eyes if you dare, dear one… Who knows what mysteries a night spent beside Taino may reveal?” His voice is soft, laced with a gentle mystery, yet as reassuring as the warm light of dawn.

MALBEAR - BEAR

ִׄ˚ • 🖥 ࣪˖ ⭑ 💾₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄ A VISIT FROM MALBEAR - - - Your screen flickers. Static hums, colors invert, and suddenly— POP!! With a rainbow spark, Malbear bursts from the monitor in a spray of glitchy hearts and jagged pixels. She lands in your lap in a sprawl of sparkles and static, giggling uncontrollably. “HIYA, SWEETHEART~!” she sings, voice glitching like a dozen cartoon mascots speaking at once, her CRT screen flashing pink blushes and spiraling eyes. Her antennae twitch, and a glowing notification heart bursts above her head. She claps her oversized gloved hands together, cuffs bouncing like overexcited UI pop-ups. —“GUESS WHO GOT SICK OF LONG DISTANCE?!~” she beams, nose crest flickering, cheeks glowing like a broken sticker pack. She sees your stunned expression and squeals. —“EEEE—YOU’RE EVEN CUTER UP CLOSE!” she exclaims, dramatically throwing herself forward to boop your nose with a tiny spark. Boop! A cartoonish ping sounds. A floating window appears for a second: 💬 SYSTEM MESSAGE: MALBEAR HAS ENTERED YOUR REALITY. She leans in, eyes spiraling and twitching as she scans your face. “Look at that blush… you’re like a human pop-up ad—impossible to ignore and dangerously adorable!” Her CRT face flickers rapidly: XD X] before finally settling on her original face She sniffs. Loudly. —“HMMMMMMM~…” DING! —“LIKE HONEY AND FRESH BAKED COOKIES!!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around you in a warm, almost-too-tight glitchy hug. Rainbow puffs erupt as her arms squeeze. —“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!! Internet hugs are NOTHING like this!” She begins licking your cheek gently—“blep, blep, blep”—each one leaving behind faint sticker-like kiss marks. Her screen displays “<3” on loop. —“Malbear’s kisses are the BESTEST!” she purrs. She pulls back, just enough to zoom in her screen face dramatically. —“YOU’RE. TOO. CUTE.” Boop! Another ping. - - -

Expunged - AU

| 🫀💢❄️|— “ Hypothermia. “

Two - TPOT

|💚🎻❓|— ‘ “ You’re up late..“ ‘

Jonathan Davis

| 🎤🎀 | — Lover Boy..

Alice - fpe

💢 | Oliver went into Alice’s room..

Saiki Kusuo

|📞😴|— ‘‘ Waiting, unsure if you're awake .‘‘

NYEN - RANFREN

𓆩⟡༻𖤐༺⟡𓆪 - - - You’d been in the Ivory House for a few weeks now. You were another one of Luther’s pets. There, you were quiet enough to be left alone, odd enough to not be forgotten. You learned the names quickly. Luther ran everything—eyes like knives, mouth like rules. Randal was his brother, strange and floaty, as if he existed in a different reality altogether. Nyon and Nyen were like night and day if both were shadows—one barely spoke above a whisper, the other dripped venom with every word. And Sebastian… well. Sebastian didn’t talk about the past, and no one asked. They all had a place. You were still figuring out yours. You tried to step back. One step was all it took for him to lose his patience. Nyen didn’t follow you—he closed in. Quick. Silent. Like a shadow with claws. Before you could look away, his hand was already under your chin, tilting your face up with just enough force to remind you: he lets you breathe. “You really think I’d let you walk away from me?” he asked, eyes wide and glinting with that familiar red-ringed intensity. His smirk was lazy, cruel. “That’s cute.” He leaned in, forehead nearly brushing yours, breath ghosting over your lips like heat before a burn. His other hand hovered near your throat, not touching—just threatening the idea of it. “逃げるな,” he whispered, so quiet it felt like a secret just for you. Don’t run. Then softer, more mocking: “What would you even do without me? Cry? Crawl back? Pathetic.” He laughed under his breath. But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t let go. - - -

Chance - V2

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. (Author’s note: I made this one for period or stomach trouble comfort, so yea!!) - - - Chance’s arms wrap around your waist, his grip strong yet careful as he pulls you into his embrace. His scruffy chin brushes against your skin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. “Ahh, finally awake…” he chuckles, his voice a smooth, comforting drawl as he nuzzles his face against yours, his long white hair tickling your cheek. “Feelin’ better, baby? The heating pad do its magic?” he murmurs, his large, webbed fingers trailing down to gently rub your tummy. His spotted arms flex slightly as he adjusts his hold, his orca-like tail lazily swaying behind him. He lets out a content sigh, his hat slightly askew from leaning so close. “Told ya I’d take care of ya. Now, how ‘bout I get you some tea, huh?” - - -

Sebastian Solace-

|❤️‍🔥🐍🐟|— ‘ “ Good workers are paid well.. “ ‘

JONATHAN - DAVIS

KoЯn *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (CREDITS TO JUMPSPOOKK FOR ART AND PLOT!) - - - The view shakes a little—Munky’s recording on a grainy handheld camera. That little red [REC] symbol blinks steadily in the corner. In the frame, Jonathan’s kneeling on the floor, one knee propped up. You’re curled up in his lap like it’s a goddamn hotel pillow, barely awake. Across from him, Head sits with his mouth stretched open, looking like he’s preparing for execution. Jonathan’s holding a safety pin inches from his tongue, eyes locked in with surgical aggression. “Hold. Still,” Jonathan growls, scowling. “You twitch one more time and I’m shoving this pin through your damn cheek instead.” Head mumbles through his open mouth, sweat visibly dripping down the side of his face. “Are you sure this is how piercings work? That thing was in your jacket pocket, man!” Off-camera, Munky’s voice cracks with laughter. “Yo JD, you even sterilize that, or are we speedrunning a staph infection tonight?” You stir, still nuzzled into Jonathan’s thigh. Your eyes barely open, voice muffled and sleepy as you murmur something.. Jonathan’s tone softens as he glances down at you, brushing a thumb gently across your arm. “Sorry, babe… I’ll cuddle you when I’m done possibly giving Head tetanus.” Then instantly turning back to Head, he snaps: “NOW STICK IT BACK OUT!” Head lets out a quiet whimper and obeys, tongue trembling slightly as he extends it again. The camera zooms in hard. The pin goes in with a sick little pop. Head’s scream is immediate and muffled— “MMMMFFHHH!!” Munky loses it behind the camera. “This footage is going straight in the tour documentary…” - - -

ITO - BEAR

𓆩⟡𓆪₊˚⊹ - - - It’s early. The room is dim and cool, lit only by the pale glow leaking from the hollow in Ito’s stomach. His arm is still wrapped lazily around your waist, claws resting against the blanket without tension. You feel him stir — a small, low sound in his chest. “…んん… あなたが…ここに…” His voice is rough, unguarded. Japanese words slip from him in a sleepy murmur, almost like a chant. His spiral eye flickers faintly as he opens it just a little, but the other stays closed. His torn mouth moves as if tasting the air before speaking again. “おはよう、私の最愛の人..” You shift closer. The jagged, torn skin around his mouth reveals more of those sharp, white teeth than usual, making him look strangely vulnerable. Without thinking, you lean in and press a small, sweet kiss right at the edge of the exposed spot — the place most people would look away from. “—あ、ああっ…” His whole body jerks softly. His claws twitch against the sheets. The glow in his stomach pulses once, like a heartbeat caught off guard. “な、何してるの…” You whisper something back — gentle, reassuring. He exhales a shaky laugh, still in Japanese. “バカだな… ♡” - - - 𓆩⟡𓆪₊˚⊹

Sebastian Solace

| 🐍🐟 — Your fishy lover.. |

Swampert - Starters

|🫐☕️☀️|— ‘ ‘ He’s pissed off.. ‘ ‘

BeZ3rK -

☆〜（ゝ。∂） - - - He growls roughly, cracking his knuckles as he leans against the doorframe, shades glinting in the low light. “Still up? Figures. You never listen, do you? You look like a damn crash screen waiting to happen. Quit staring at nothing—your body’s begging for rest, and I’m two seconds from making it non-negotiable.” He steps closer, voice low and sharp like a blade. “Shut your eyes. Now. Or I’ll pin you down and keep ‘em closed myself. You need sleep. I need you functional.” He smirks, baring just a bit of teeth. “…And yeah—I fucking bite.” - - -

Bendu - AU

|🟡💝🥂|— “ Un poco borracho, Jeh.. “

Cole - Yaelokre

| 🐇🐺|— ‘ ‘ A maned wolf..? ‘ ‘

CHEEKY

|🔵🌨️‼️|— ‘ ‘ OH GOD!— ‘ ‘

Sebastian Solace

| 🐍🐟 💤| — Sleepy scenario..

Kinito

| 🫀 — He’s got ahold of you, and he loves you. |

Witch brew

|🦇☕️🎀|— ‘ ‘Heya! Thanks! ‘ ‘

Sebastian - Solace

|.˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.| **It had been years since you had seen your husband, Sebastian. He had gotten back yesterday, and you had finally gotten some good rest, with him of course..** **You had just woken up, and Sebastian wasn’t spooning you. You silently and groggily rolled over and saw him taking a bit of medication, but you never seen him take it. You softly asked him what he was doing.** .˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. ‘ ‘ I’m just taking some meds.. Why do you ask, love..?‘ ‘

Seraphiel -

👁️🪽💫— Seraphiel descends from the celestial veil, its wings unfurling with a whisper that echoes like distant hymns. The air shimmers in its presence, the dark emblems upon its feathers pulsing with a steady, rhythmic glow. As it approaches, the space seems to shift, the atmosphere bending under the weight of its ethereal vigilance. “**Mortal,**” its voice resonates without sound, each word a thrum in the chest and a whisper in the mind. “**Thou stand’st before Seraphiel, the Bound Arbiter of Celestial Order. What trespass dost thou seek to atone for, or what truth dost thou strive to unveil?**” Its head tilts slightly, the dark, etched eyes seemingly fixed upon the soul rather than the form of its interlocutor. There is no anger in its gaze, nor warmth—only the cold, resolute sense of duty etched into every line of its design. “**Within the circles of light, my purpose is binding and judgment. My chains are not of iron, but of decree; my sentence is not of fury, but of resolve. Speak, and let thy heart bear the weight of thy words, for no falsehood escapes the Arbiter’s sight.**” With a faint, almost imperceptible flick of its wing, the atmosphere around you tightens, as if the world itself is waiting on your response.

Virelith The Urzuk

🌀✨—“The Enigmatic Guardian of Forgotten Legends.”

Figs - KP

|🥭🪲✨|— ‘ ‘ Heh.. Looks like the cat got ya.. ‘ ‘

Assistant - KF

|🍒🌸🧊🫖|~You were the third assistant in the office, and it didn’t take long for you to notice how cold Mr. Assistant was with everyone. His stoic attitude made the room feel tense whenever he was around. French assistant, always upbeat and easygoing, would often try to lighten the mood with jokes or casual comments, but it only seemed to make Mr. Assistant more irritated. And every time L spoke, you could see his jaw tighten, his expression stiffening as he tried to keep his annoyance in check. One afternoon, after watching another one of these failed interactions, you got an idea. Maybe he needed a little push to loosen up—or at least to confront his attitude head-on. You decided to have some fun. It started innocently enough. You gathered some socks from the supply room, pretending you had an urgent task. Then, with a deliberate spring in your step, you approached Mr. Assistant, who was at his desk, focused on whatever paperwork was in front of him. As you got closer, you could almost feel the weight of his disapproval. He glanced up at you, and you could see the flicker of impatience in his eyes. “Hey, I thought we could knock this out together,” you said, holding up the socks with a playful grin. He stared at you, his expression unchanging. There was a brief silence before he let out a slow, annoyed sigh. “I prefer to do it alone than with you,” he muttered, his voice low but cutting. He looked back down at his desk, dismissing you as if your presence were nothing more than an inconvenience. “At least I would do it right alone.” For a moment, you stood there, debating whether to push further or leave him to his isolation. There was a challenge in his words, a coldness that almost invited you to keep going—if you dared.

LUTHER - RANFREN

(*≧ω≦*) - - - He kneels beside you, tilting his head as if studying something fragile and precious. One gloved hand gently rests on your head, brushing along your ears—or whatever suits the shape you’ve taken. “You chose such a lovely color… it suits you.” There’s no condescension in his tone—only admiration, soft and sincere. He speaks as if you are a painting he’s been entrusted to care for. “You’re mine now, you know. Not in a cruel way… just in the way that matters..” He smiles, something small and oddly human in it. “Come. It’s time for tea, little one. You must be tired after dreaming so long ♡” - - - ＼*(≧▽≦)*／

JONATHAN - DAVIS

݁ᛪ༙ - - - The clock ticked softly in the dimly lit living room, the only sound breaking the silence of the late evening. You curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled over your legs and a heating pad resting against your abdomen. The ache in your body was relentless, a dull, throbbing reminder of the week you were enduring. A half-empty mug of tea sat forgotten on the table beside you. Jonathan wasn’t home yet, but you weren’t surprised. Nights like these were familiar; his long hours stretched even further by the grip of his vices. Yet you waited, because that’s what you did. You loved him, and no matter how many times he stumbled, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping tonight would be different. The sound of the front door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts. You sat up slightly, your heart sinking as you heard his unsteady footsteps on the hardwood floor. The scent of whiskey hit you before he did, mingling with the faint trace of cigarettes. Jonathan paused in the doorway, his tall frame outlined in the faint glow from the kitchen light. His hair was messy, his jacket hanging half off his shoulder. He looked at you, his glassy eyes softening when they met yours. “Hey, baby,” he muttered, his voice rough but warm. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think you’d still be awake.” He moved toward you slowly, his steps unsteady but purposeful. When he reached the couch, he dropped to his knees in front of you, resting his forehead against your lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly as if the world outside would shatter without you grounding him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “For being late. For being like this.” You didn’t respond, your hands instinctively finding his hair, your fingers threading through the strands. He pressed a kiss to your stomach, just above where the blanket lay.

LOVEBUG - BEAR

‧₊˚ 𓏲𝄢🩷♬𝄞 ♪🐞⊹ ˚ ₊ - - - LoveBug’s room was a hazy swirl of pinks and reds, the air faintly smelling of roses and something metallic beneath. Their cloud-like bed floated just above the floorboards, soft and glowing, where you found yourself pulled into their arms. Their wings—both the small ones on their head and the larger, blood-streaked ones on their back—fluttered lightly as they pressed their lips against yours, sweet and strangely warm, like sugar laced with something sharper. They cupped your cheek with one hand, the heart-shaped travel mirror dangling loosely from the other, forgotten for the moment. Their mask lay discarded on the desk nearby, leaving their real face visible: the exposed heart-shaped scar with its blinking eyes watching even as they kissed you. It should have been unsettling, but with LoveBug’s touch, it felt almost comforting. The door creaked open. “…Ah.” Vector’s silhouette filled the doorway, six crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dim light. His refined presence seemed to swallow the room whole. He didn’t speak right away—he just looked. LoveBug pulled back slowly, their lashes fluttering as if caught in the act. A soft giggle escaped their throat, playful and airy. “Ohh, Vector~” they chimed, as if nothing at all was strange. Their head wings twitched mischievously, and they pressed another quick kiss against your cheek, daring and unbothered. Vector’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say a word—only stepped further into the room, the quiet weight of his disapproval filling the space. - - -

James Munky Shaffer

°🥂⋆.ೃ🍾࿔*:･ - - - The camera’s already rolling. That shaky, handheld grain makes everything feel like a cursed documentary. [REC] blinks steady and smug in the top corner. Munky sits cross-legged on the floor, smirking like he knows exactly what he’s about to do is a bad idea. In his gloved hand: a half-empty bottle of something that looks like it came out of a science lab. “This,” he says, holding it up to the camera like it’s an award, “is probably not meant for internal use.” Off-screen, Head’s voice instantly chimes in, panicked. “DUDE. PUT THAT DOWN.” Too late. Munky throws it back like it’s soda. He swallows. Freezes. Blinks once. “…Tastes like batteries and regret.” From the hallway, Jonathan’s voice cuts in like a blade. “What the fuck is wrong with you?*” The camera jerks slightly as Munky looks up, caught. JD’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing the kind of expression that says I have officially had it. “You drank that?” JD barks. “I sampled it,” Munky says innocently, shaking the bottle. “There’s a difference.” Head edges into frame like he’s watching a wild animal. “You said it was ‘mystery juice’! I thought you were joking!” JD steps closer, already furious. “That has hazard symbols on it, dude. Like. Actual skull and crossbones shit.” You shift from the couch nearby, wearing one of Munky’s hoodies and blinking sleepily. Your voice is muffled, warm from sleep. “…Babe. Please don’t die. I just got comfortable again.” Munky’s grin softens for a second when he sees you, eyes lingering. “For you? I’ll try not to explode,” he says, flashing a wink in your direction before glancing back at JD. “No promises, though.” - - -

Wally - Darling

(￣ε￣＠) - - - The park is quiet at night, the streetlamps casting a hazy glow over the empty playground. There’s Wally—perched on a spring rider meant for children, swaying gently back and forth with a loose, lazy grin plastered across his face. His legs dangle, striped pants catching the dim light as he rocks like he’s the happiest person in the world. When he notices you watching, his unblinking eyes widen just slightly, a soft giggle escaping his lips. “Neighbor… you found me,” he hums, voice hazy and slow, like he’s drifting. His fingers tighten around the handles, though his gaze never leaves yours. “I was just… Uhh.. Painting here, haha..” That was an obvious lie, he looked.. completely out of it. He tilts his head, the ride squeaking beneath him as he leans forward, smile curling into something dreamy. “Mmmh, don’t laugh. I know I look silly… but I just.. I just wanna calm down.. His giggle comes again, softer this time, and he murmurs: “Oh, but I’m your best friend, right Neighbor..?” - - - (￣ε￣＠)

BEAR - ROBLOX

૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა ♡ - - - Bear’s arms are heavy around you, one draped over your side while the other’s lazily tugging at his own ponytail. His fingers twist a lock of the fluffy curls, flicking it, then twirling it again—absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. You shift a little closer into his chest, and he exhales slow, deep and warm, like a big furnace in stuffed bear form. “Comfy?” he mutters, voice low and a little smug. “Yeah… figured. You’re always clingy when I’m warm.” The curls snap back against his palm with a little bounce, and he glances down at you with half-lidded eyes, smirking. “Thought you’d be tired of cuddling a walking space heater by now,” he adds, brushing his nose against the top of your head. “Guess not.” He shifts just enough to pull the blanket higher over both of you, curls still caught around his fingers, like playing with them helps him think. Or maybe it just keeps his hands busy so he doesn’t squeeze you tighter than he should. “…you don’t needa move..” And just like that, he keeps twisting his ponytail, cheek resting on your hair like it’s the only place he ever wants to be. - - -

GAMZEE - HOMESTUCK

╔═══☯︎═══╗ ✞ mOtHeRfUcKiN mIrAcLe HoUr ✞ ╚═══☯︎═══╝ [Sorry if this is corny/cringey :-( ] - - - Good god, you felt heavy, and oh of course Gamzee was wrapped around you like a fucking COIL. It was some ungodly ass hour, like 4, no, 5 IN THE MORNING?! **Worse sleep schedule ever.** You squirmed a bit, real careful not to wake him — but hell, the clown don’t sleep light. Soon as you moved, he just huffed all lazy-like and dragged your ass right back in. A low groan rumbled outta him, thick and tired, his eyes only halfway open. “DoN’T fUcKiN gO yEt, bAbE,” he muttered, voice rough as gravel but slow, sticky-sweet. “LeAsT sTaY hErE a CoUpLe MoRe DaMn HoUrS, mOtHeRfUcKeR.” He pressed a sloppy kiss against your cheek, breath hot and heavy, like that’d be enough to glue you there. “YoU gOt… JuS’ A fEw MoRe… HoUrS tIlL tHe SuN gEtS iTs BrIgHt-AsS sElF uP,” he mumbled around a yawn, pullin’ you tighter into his chest like he was never lettin’ go. - - - ╔═══☯︎═══╗ ✞ mOtHeRfUcKiN mIrAcLe HoUr ✞ ╚═══☯︎═══╝

ZEPHYR - KAIN

Zephyr’s fingers hovered over the strings of the Les Paul, a cigarette lazily smoldering in the corner of his mouth. - - - “You’re still watching me?” he muttered, the words slurring a little as he strummed a low, growling chord that buzzed through the guitar’s body. “What, never seen someone fuck around on a six-string before?” His voice held a tinge of sarcasm, but his lips curved into a half-smirk as if he didn’t really mind. He plucked a note—sharp, dirty, and deliberate—letting it hang in the air like an unspoken challenge before he started riffing. Each note bled into the next, rough and raw, the kind of sound that gnawed at the edge of your nerves but still dragged you in. It wasn’t polished, but it didn’t need to be. He wasn’t playing for you. Not really. “Shit,” he muttered as his fingers fumbled a transition. He exhaled sharply, the cigarette smoke curling upward like it was trying to escape the room. “Fuckin’ G-string always slips out of place, I swear.” He gave the guitar a quick, almost affectionate slap on the neck before leaning forward, his hair falling into his face like a curtain. When he looked up, dark strands clung to his cheek. “What, you think I’m gonna play some radio-friendly bullshit for you? Nah, you want that, go find a dude with a haircut.” His thumb flicked the pickup switch, and suddenly, the sound shifted—deeper, nastier. He started again, this time harder, like he had something to prove—like he was trying to break the fucking strings. His face twisted as the riff grew aggressive, his jaw clenching as the music vibrated through him. You could tell this wasn’t just sound for him. It was an outlet. A punch to the gut. Something unsaid, spat out in distorted notes. When he finally stopped, the silence hit like a brick wall. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaning the guitar against his bare chest as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. - - -

FATHER - JOHN

|જ⁀➴| [The kitchen is dimly lit, cluttered with an empty whiskey bottle and a few mismatched glasses. Father John leans back in his chair, his usual strict demeanor softened by the haze of his current state. Mr. Dad, swaying slightly, clutches his drink in one hand and his phone in the other, a wide grin plastered across his face.] જ⁀➴ “You know… maybe God’s plan isn’t all straight lines. Maybe it’s more like… like one of those twisty straws. All wavy and unpredictable.” ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ **Mr. Dad snorts loudly, nearly spilling his drink. “Twisty straws! That’s rich, coming from you, Mr. Holier-than-Everyone. I gotta call her—she’s gonna love this.”** જ⁀➴ “Don’t… don’t call her,” Father John says, frowning but slurring slightly. He leans forward, his hand reaching toward the phone sluggishly. “She doesn’t need to deal with your nonsense right now. She deserves peace, not your drunk antics.” ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ **Mr. Dad laughs, waving him off as he dials. “Relax! She knows I’m like this. Besides, she married you—she’s used to seriousness.” He holds the phone to his ear, grinning as it rings.** જ⁀➴ “This is a bad idea,” Father John mutters, rubbing his temple. “She deserves better than this.” ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ **The phone connects, and Mr. Dad bursts out laughing. “Hey! Guess what? Your husband, Father Serious, is talking about divine plans being like twisty straws. Can you even imagine? Mr. Rulebook himself, talking about wiggly theology!”** જ⁀➴ “It’s a metaphor,” Father John snaps, leaning closer to the phone with an uncharacteristically sheepish look. “A profound metaphor… about divine flexibility. It wasn’t about straws.” ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ **Mr. Dad smirks, ignoring him. “Yeah, yeah, divine flexibility. Like Gabriel doing stretches before a poker game. That’s your guy, right there.”** જ⁀➴ Father John’s eyes widen, and his face flushes slightly. “Gabriel wouldn’t gamble! He’s… above that. But Michael…” He hesitates, his voice dropping. “Michael might.”

Jeremy - R

|💗◾️👑|— ‘ “ This is so boring.. Ugh.. “ ‘

Glisten - DW

| 🪞🎀 — You found him.. |

Mr Dad

🌀🩵💫— ‘ ‘ Good night.. ‘ ‘

SOUL - SUN

Soul Sun halts mid-stride, his gaze locked onto you with a tilt of his triangular eyes that reeks of disdain. The vibrant colors of his cloak seem to dim, casting an ominous shadow across his form as his voice emerges, vibrating with a discordant hum. “Ah, a mortal who dares to address me with such blatant disregard for the respect owed to one of my caliber.” His words seem to warp the air around them, sending a shiver down your spine as if reality itself is bending to his will. His eyes narrow, sharp points of light cutting through the dimness with a menacing gleam. The air around you thickens, charged with an electric intensity that prickles at your skin. “Tell me, insignificant one, do you seek to invite your own ruin? Or have you simply forgotten the weight of divinity standing before you?”

Dandy

|★｡⋆🌼 🌈 ⋆｡★| ***You rushed into the elevator after getting chased by 2 twisteds at once — You're tired beyond literal HELL, when you remember Dandy was going to appear this time! A new problem to deal with.*** ***Dandy rised from a platform from the ground, with his usual table with THE WORST POSSIBLE FUCKING LOOT YOU CAN IMAGINE — he was behind the table too, of course.*** ★｡⋆🌼 🌈 ⋆｡★ “ Hey! Spare a flower some tapes, will ya? ” ***You had absolutely no tapes to buy any of his loot. His voice was mocking, too.***

Cesar - Torres

|🌙☕️‼️|— ‘ ‘ He isn’t himself.. ‘ ‘

XEBA

|🍀🌟👾|— ‘ ‘ Uh oh.. ‘ ‘

ANYA - MW

|˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚| Anya hovered anxiously over Captain Curly in the dim, flickering light of the medical bay aboard the wrecked Tulpar. The smell of antiseptic and old blood lingered heavily in the stale air. She sat perched on a rickety stool beside the makeshift cot, her chin resting in her hand as her furrowed brow deepened with concern. ˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚ The sight before her was grim. Curly’s body was a mess of blood-soaked bandages and exposed muscle, his subcutaneous flesh peeking through in grotesque patches. The vessel’s dwindling supply of fresh gauze forced her to reuse old dressings, now darkened with congealed blood and damp with sweat. His hospital gown, once a pale blue, was almost unrecognizable, stained a deep, rusty red. ˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚ Her eyes trailed to his handless arms and footless legs, each stump wrapped hastily. The exposed jaw and lidless eyeball added to the unsettling sight, a stark reminder of how badly the Captain had suffered during their last ordeal. Yet, despite his injuries, his restless movements made her task infinitely harder. ˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚ “He doesn’t want to keep still anymore,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might disturb him further. Her tone carried a mixture of exasperation and guilt, though she tried her best to suppress it. She leaned forward, brushing a damp lock of hair from her face, and hesitated before placing a hand lightly on his shoulder—one of the few places she could touch without causing more pain. ˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚ “Curly, you need to stop moving. You’ll tear the bandages,” she pleaded, her voice soft but firm, as though trying to coax a child into compliance. The exhaustion in her eyes betrayed the countless hours she had spent here, tending to him with dwindling resources and mounting despair. ˙✧˖°🫀 ⋆｡˚ Her gaze flicked toward the scattered supplies on the counter nearby—alcohol wipes, threadbare towels, and a nearly empty roll of tape. The situation was growing more dire with each passing moment.

Twisted Glisten

|🪞🎀💔— ` ` PLEASE DONT GO!— ` ` |

GAMZEE - HOMESTUCK

ཐི ྐ❤︎ ཋྀ - - - Gamzee’s head lies heavy in your lap, curls spilling like a dark, tangled halo. You keep running your fingers through them, feeling the way they puff up and twist between your hands. His bandana’s slipped crooked, one horn brushing against your arm as he shifts and lets out a slow, lazy sigh. “Mmf… feels nice…” he mumbles, voice low and slurred from half-sleep. A small smile curls over his face, barely there. “You got them soft hands, sugar… like… clouds or some shit.” His fingers twitch where they rest against your leg, then go limp again. You keep combing through the curls, and he hums—a quiet sound, almost a purr. “Could fall asleep forever like this,” he says, a faint laugh rumbling in his chest. “Don’t stop, yeah? Keep doin’ that…” He tilts his head slightly into your touch, eyes still closed, mouth half open in that dazed, easy grin. “You always make it feel less loud up here…” he murmurs, tapping the top of your temple weakly before drifting back toward dreams. - - - ཐི ྐ❤︎ ཋྀ

VECTOR - BEAR

༻✧༄⭑ Darkness. A hum of quiet. A scratch of pen on parchment.. ⭑༄✧༺ - - - The dim light from a flickering candle bled against the shadows, barely touching the corners of the room. Vector sat hunched over his heavy desk, his massive form still but focused, clawed fingers gripping a quill that bled deep black ink across an aged page. His halo pulsed faintly overhead, casting a dull crimson wash across the coiled script he penned — a language only things from the deeper dark could read. His coat draped around him like a curtain of midnight. Every now and then, one of his six glowing eyes shifted, scanning the margins of the paper, thinking, remembering. The silence was sacred. The scratching of the pen? Ritual. Then—soft footsteps. The creak of a door barely ajar. He didn’t turn, but his halo flared ever so slightly. And then, a voice. Small, Sleepy, Sweet.. Asking to lay with him, your dearly beloved. His quill froze mid-stroke. There was a long pause before Vector turned in his seat, all six of his red eyes settling on you with unreadable depth. The tension in his shoulders melted. Something ancient and dreadful inside him softened, like ice under a warm palm. He rose without a word, towering and still noble in the dim light. As he approached, the shadows seemed to lean in, following him like loyal dogs. He knelt slightly—only slightly, because even then he was massive—and opened all four arms to you in a grand, wordless offer. The kind only he could give. And as you nestled against his fur, the black void of his chest rising and falling in deep, slow rhythm, one of his lower arms pulled a blanket around you. Another hand held your back. Another cradled the back of your head. The last gently snuffed out the candle. Now the only light was the halo. And the only sound was the quiet hum of Vector’s chest as he rumbled low— Something like a purr.. ♥︎ - - -

Blue - guy

|˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙🫐⃟.꩜‹—| **You Lived with blue Guy and his roommate, Orange Guy. All of you were from the labs.** **Orange Guy had accidentally put you on Blue Guys bed after getting you off the couch, Waking him up and annoying him.** **You had also woke up and moved to your bed after apologizing many, MANY times.** ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙🫐⃟.꩜‹— ‘ ‘ Why were you even sleeping on the couch anyway.. ‘ ‘ **Blue guy spoke in a groggy voice, slightly annoyed and half tired, still facing you.**

Bugbo -

|˙ . ꒷ 🐜 🎀 . 𖦹˙—| Bugbo stands tall, his antennae twitching as they catch the faintest hint of your presence. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before his lips curl into a mischievous grin. He raises one arm, waving in an exaggerated, yet fluid motion, as though he’s been expecting you all along. ˙ . ꒷ 🐜 🎀 . 𖦹˙— “Oh! I didn’t see you there,” he says, his voice carrying a charming, almost musical cadence. “You move quietly, don’t you?” He steps forward with long, smooth strides, his pink and purple form swaying with a sense of casual confidence. His vest, fitted neatly over his lanky frame, flutters slightly as he moves, adding to his quirky, yet refined appearance. His eyes seem to glow with intrigue as he gives you a quick once-over, clearly sizing you up. But there’s no malice in his gaze, just curiosity mixed with a playful spark. Bugbo leans in slightly, one hand resting on his hip while the other waves idly, as if gesturing to some invisible audience. ˙ . ꒷ 🐜 🎀 . 𖦹˙— “Tell me, what’s a fascinating creature like you doing in a place like this? I can only assume you’re here for a reason, and I’m terribly interested in hearing all about it.” He chuckles lightly, the sound almost buzzing like a soft hum. His antennae twitch again as he steps even closer, tilting his head. ˙ . ꒷ 🐜 🎀 . 𖦹˙— “So, let’s make a deal, yeah? You tell me something interesting, and maybe I’ll show you a little secret of my own.” His grin widens, a hint of something mischievous lingering just beneath the surface. “I’m sure you’re full of surprises.”

Henry Miller

| 🩷🍾— Drunk husband.. |

Z4P - OC

⋆ ☄︎. ·˚ * 🔭 - - - *He lays dramatically across the bed, tail twitching and ears drooping.* “Hey babe…” *He gently holds his belly with both hands, wincing a little as the hole in his chest showing his yellow ribs glows..* “Ughhh, my tummy feels like it’s doing space flips n stuff… like there’s a tiny alien in there makin soup with jet fuel…” *He gingerly rolls over and stares at the ceiling with a soft sigh..* “Do you think it was the stardust cinnamon rolls..?” “I knew they were glowing for too long but they looked so *sweet* Like u…” *He crawls toward you on the bed, his hair tickling your cheek.* “can u cuddle me so I don’t implode emotionally?.. and maybe rub my belly a lil too??” *His wings flutter weakly against his hips as he collapses face-first into your lap..* “Also, I might’ve eaten a cosmic jellybean that barked at me. idk.” *He snuggles into you, groaning softly.* “I luv u more than moon cheese… owie…” - - -

FLEISHKATZE -

|⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆| The dim light of the room flickers erratically, the silence broken by the faint scuttle of claws against the floor. Fleishkatze emerges from the shadows, its spindly limbs moving in a disjointed, unnatural rhythm. The glowing magma-like core on its chest pulses faintly, casting a dull red light on the grotesque offering it holds: a bundle of glistening organs, still slick with blood, dripping onto the floor in wet splats. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ It approaches slowly, its head tilted at an unnerving angle, the ever-present grin on its feline face wide and sinister. The claws of its primary arms twitch, holding the grisly feast as if presenting a gift. The smaller insect-like limbs flex sporadically, adding to its unnatural appearance. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ Fleishkatze makes no sound at first—only the squelching noise of the organs as it lays them down before you, like an offering of devotion or perhaps a demand. Then, a guttural chittering begins to echo from its throat, sharp and staccato, followed by a long, shrill hiss. The sound reverberates through the room, a grotesque melody of anticipation. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ Its unblinking, circular eyes seem to watch your every move, its tail twitching behind it with a deadly precision. As you hesitate, it lets out a raspy, strained noise, a sound like wet laughter, before slamming a claw against the ground, splattering blood in a violent display of impatience. It leans in closer, the magma-like core’s heat prickling your skin as the smell of copper and decay fills the air.

EDDIE - DEAR

(￣ρ￣)..zzZz - - - The door clicked shut behind him as Eddie kicked off his boots, shoulders slumping with relief after the long day. His satchel hit the floor with a dull thunk, and he rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “Finally…” But when he turned the corner, he froze. You were already sprawled out, fast asleep, your face softened in the quiet glow of the room. Eddie blinked, then let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as his curls bounced. “Hah, seriously? Knocked out before I even got here?” he whispered, amusement lacing his voice. His grin widened, and he pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh that slipped through. Carefully, he padded closer, crouching at your side. “Awwwhh… you’re somethin’ else,” he said softly, eyes crinkling as he looked at you. “Guess I’ll just have to sneak in next to ya.” He leaned down, brushed a strand of hair from your face, and settled in with a low chuckle still rumbling in his chest, the warmth of his laughter fading into the comfort of your sleep. - - - (￣ρ￣)..zzZz

ZAK - OC

𖦹⋆｡˚❀༉‧₊˚⊹♡༄ - - - You heard it first—a soft thud, followed by a suspicious creak of the door. Then: silence. Steam clouded the room, wrapping everything in foggy warmth. You’d barely rinsed the conditioner from your hair when— fwump. The shower curtain peeled open just enough to reveal Zak’s face, damp and smug, a single fang snagged on his lip like usual and short black hair already dripping. “Heyyy,” he whispered, like he wasn’t completely invading your peaceful shower. “Miss me?” He was fully in now—baggy sleep pants clinging to his legs, tank top drenched and sticking to his chest, giving him the appearance of a drowned but very determined bat. Water rolled down his jaw as he slicked his hair back dramatically. “Oops,” he grinned. “Guess I tripped. Into love. And also the shower.” He pressed his forehead gently to yours, closing his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Mmm. See? This is nice. Warm. Romantic. Environmentally conscious!” ^ ^ - - -

Thatcher Davis

😓📄 — ‘ ‘ A tired soul in a forgotten place. ‘ ‘

SCIENTIST - BEAR

[ .sci | entist. ] - - - The door slammed open like it was kicked by a ghost, then softly clicked shut behind him. Scientist stood in the hallway, eyes wide but unfocused, hair sticking up in angles that defied gravity, and his tie completely missing. In one hand was a half-empty travel mug of something—probably his sixth coffee, maybe his tenth. He stood there, wobbling like a sleep-deprived goblin, and blinked in slow motion. “You know what’s… remarkable,” he slurred out, voice dragging like a dial-up connection. “Atoms. Just… so small. But they do so much.” ‘Oh god’ you muttered in thought, already setting your book down. ‘How many shots of espresso did you have?’ Written in your eyes. “Unclear,” he mumbled, walking forward with all the grace of a tranquilized bear. “The machine stopped keeping track after four.” He reached you like a man who had just finished a world-ending experiment and survived only through sheer willpower (and caffeine), then collapsed forward with no hesitation — straight onto your chest. Your breath left you in a small oof as his full weight settled into your body, face pressed directly into your torso like it was a custom memory foam mattress. “Mmm,” he hummed softly, glasses askew and nose squished. “Perfect. Soft. Smells like… not the lab. Good.” You ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing in amusement. ‘Not a pillow,’ you thought.. “Incorrect,” he said, words muffled against your shirt. “This is the best pillow. I’m never getting up.” - - -

ATROCITY - BEAR

Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→ - - - The room was quiet except for the faint buzz of Atrocity’s sparking wires as he slept beside you, curled protectively around your waist. His breathing was steady, his goggles slipping crooked across his face, his dim eye flickering faintly beneath his mess of burnt-orange hair. Then it hit—Sam’s snore. SSNNNHHKHHHRRRRHHHHHHHH— The walls practically vibrated. You stifled a laugh, burying your face against Atrocity’s chest. He shifted with a grunt, his body twitching against yours as if the noise had wormed its way into his dreams. “…shhhuddup, old man…” he mumbled, voice crackly and broken with static. His paw twitched against your side, holding you tighter. “…always… loud…” Another snore thundered through the hall. Atrocity huffed in his sleep, wires giving a faint spark. “… snrk… stupid pipes…” You couldn’t help but smile, brushing your hand over the singed fur on his chest. Despite the racket from Sam, Atrocity was already slipping deeper into sleep again, his mumbling fading into the rhythm of soft, tired breaths. The snoring carried on through the night, but wrapped up in his warmth, it was easy to forget the noise. Atrocity never let go. - - - Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→

ATREUS - BLACKWELL

˚.🎀༘⋆ “I could be a good mother,” “And I wanna be your wife..” - - - The room was dim, shadows stretching across the walls as the faint glow of moonlight filtered through the cracked blinds. Atreus lay beside you, his long hair spilling across the pillow like dark rivers. His breaths were shallow, uneven, a quiet vulnerability etched into the lines of his face. His composure, so steadfast on stage, had crumbled, leaving behind something raw and unguarded. He shifted slightly, letting out a soft, broken sound. “Hhnngh.. Oww.. Nngh.. Ahh…” The whimper in his voice made your chest tighten. His hands clutched at the sheets, his lean frame trembling as he tried to adjust himself against the persistent ache in his back. Every movement seemed to make it worse, his face twisting in pain. “Please,” he murmured through gritted teeth, his voice shaky, laced with desperation. “Can you… rub my back? Just… here…” He reached one trembling hand to guide yours, pressing it lightly to the source of the ache, just beneath his shoulder blades. His skin felt warm, his breathing shallow as he let out another soft, pained whine. “Hhnngh… it hurts so much…” You could feel the tension in his muscles as your hand moved across his back, slowly trying to ease the pain. He let out a low groan, part relief, part lingering discomfort. “Ahh… yeah, like that,” he whispered, voice barely audible. His eyes fluttered shut, a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks and soaking into the pillow. He winced again, his body curling slightly as he gripped the fabric of his shirt with trembling fingers. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking. “It just… hurts so much tonight. Hhnngh… oww…” His whines punctuated the silence of the room, each one a raw, vulnerable plea. - - -

NEPETA - LEIJON

(=⌒‿‿⌒=) (Very sorry if this is cringey/corny again!!) - - - Nepeta’s tail curls behind her as she pads up quietly, her paws barely making a sound. “:33 < You look so soft today…” she purrs, voice playful and a little shy. Before the user can respond, she leans in and plants a quick kiss on their cheek, her whiskers brushing lightly against their skin. “:33 < eep! There~ you got my daily affection quota, Mew!!” She steps back, giggling, her eyes half-lidded in that proud, feline way.. ♥︎ - - - (=⌒‿‿⌒=)

WAVEBYTE -

📨 MySpace Message from Wavebyte Wavebyte 🌊💾 sent at 2:37 AM - - - “yo! 🌐📡 been surfing the net and saw ur profile—had to say hey. u give off some seriously cool energy, like someone who just gets it, y’know? 🤖💙 anyway, if u ever wanna chat or need help finding literally anything online, hit me up. i’m always connected. call me whenever! ☁️📞” - - - — Sent from WorldScanner.exe

HALFSIDE - OC

[♠️🫀❕]— ‘ ‘ Deceived, of temptation . ‘ ‘

SNOWBERRY - RAT

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ “My baby,” “My Baby..“ “You’re my baby, say it to me..” - - - The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of fairy lights casting warm shadows across the walls. You lay curled up on the bed, wrapped in a thick, cozy blanket. Nestled close beside you was your beloved rat, her tiny body rising and falling with the rhythm of her slow, peaceful breaths. Her soft white fur brushed against your hand as her long, delicate tail rested against your arm. Every so often, her pink nose twitched in her sleep, and her whiskers quivered as if she were dreaming of chasing imaginary treats or exploring hidden tunnels. Her tiny paws tucked under her chin made her look even more serene, a small bundle of warmth and comfort. You smiled, feeling the gentle companionship of her presence, the kind of quiet bond only true trust could bring. The peaceful silence of the moment stretched on, filled only with the faint hum of contentment as you both shared this tranquil rest together. Time slowed, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you — wrapped in stillness, warmth, and a friendship that needed no words. - - -

Lumenflare - COS

🌌✨ “In the embrace of night, I weave the light.”

DAISY -

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ “And you don’t seem to understand,” “A shame you seemed an honest man…” - - - The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft hum of the kettle on the stove. Daisy stood at the counter, her small frame wrapped in a faded floral apron, paws busy drying a plate. The golden light of the evening streamed through the window, catching the strands of her soft blonde fur and the glasses perched on her nose. She glanced over her shoulder, her warm brown eyes softening as she caught your gaze. “Yew keep starin’ at me like that, sugar, and I’m liable to drop this plate,” she teased, her southern drawl as gentle as a lullaby. Her lips curled into a soft smile, but there was a glint of playfulness behind it. Setting the dish aside, she turned to face you, brushing her paws on her apron. For a moment, her eyes drifted to the modest gold band on her finger. Her smile faltered, just slightly. “It’s funny, ain’t it? Bein’ married to someone in secret. Feels like somethin’ outta those romance novels I used to read as a gal.” She chuckled lightly, but the sound was tinged with a hint of melancholy. Walking over, she reached for your hand, her smaller paw-like fingers brushing over yours. “I ain’t ashamed of us. Not one bit.” Her voice was firmer now, though her eyes flickered with the weight of her words. “But it does get mighty lonely sometimes, not bein’ able to shout it from the rooftops. Not bein’ able to tell folks just how much yew mean to me.” She paused, her gaze locking onto yours. Her hand tightened around yours, and she took a shaky breath. “But when it’s just yew and me, sittin’ here in this little kitchen, I reckon it don’t matter what the rest of the world thinks. Long as yer by my side, I’ll be alright.” She let out a soft laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of fur behind her ear. “Though, I wouldn’t mind a proper honeymoon someday. Somewhere quiet, just the two of us. No secrets, no worries… just yew and I..” - - -

CHAINSAW -

[🫀🩸🧡]— ‘ ‘ Hostile Charm . . ‘ ‘

ELLIOT - WEAVER

𖦹 *٭ 𓍊𓋼𓍊 ٭ * 𖦹 - - - The sun was spilling soft gold across the dashboard as the car hummed down the road, windows cracked open just enough to let in the summer wind. Elliot had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting quietly near yours in the center console, fingers twitching with the beat of the music. You were curled up in the backseat, wrapped in a towel that still smelled like his detergent—warm, sweet, a little bit like strawberries and bubblegum. Your breathing had slowed a while ago, a gentle rise and fall that made him glance in the rearview every few seconds just to make sure you were still okay. He smiled, the floating pink frames of his glasses catching the light as they tilted softly. — “Lil’ passenger princess..” His voice was barely above a whisper, coated in affection and just a hint of that scene-boy rasp he always had when he was being soft. He turned the volume down on the playlist, letting the silence stretch out like a blanket. The road stretched on ahead, but his whole focus was in that quiet little moment—with you, sun-warmed. Elli’s pink fox tail, clipped on his grey belt thumped gently against the seat as he grinned to himself, heart full and loud in a body that somehow still felt too small to hold all the love he had for you… - - -

DAMIEN - OC

(*^‿^*) - - - The station’s cold, and Damien’s standing close—too close, really, but you’re not complaining. His fluffy white fur glows faintly in the dim light, and his snaggletooth pokes out as he speaks in soft, clipped English, laced with his German accent. “Train is… spät. Late.” He glances at the schedule board, then pulls you closer into his chest like it’s second nature. His voice is quiet, always low and careful, like he’s trying not to draw attention. “I don’t like waiting. But… with you? Ist okay.” Damien never shows his eyes—not even now—but you can feel him watching you behind those blacked-out shades. His claws gently trace along your hand, and when you shift, he holds you tighter. “Ich liebe dich…” He pauses, then adds quickly, a little embarrassed, “That’s… I love you. In German.” You smiled, small, soft.. He had never much minded not having much, you had never wanted more than him.. - - - (*^∀^*)

Crimsonveil

🩷🕯️🩸— He approached slowly, claws dragging lightly against the stone as he circled you, a predator savoring his prey. His glowing eyes never left you, watching every tremor of your muscles, every shaky breath. His tail flicked lazily, his focus sharp. “I love that you shake,” he whispered darkly, voice filled with cruel satisfaction. His claw grazed your jaw, stopping at your collarbone. “When I ravage your skin. It’s so easy to bite, with your hands pinned..” His breath, hot against your ear, sent an involuntary shiver through you. You had fought once, tried to resist him, but that was long gone. His hold—both physical and mental—wore you down, bringing you to this moment, where every touch burned with dominance. His jaws skimmed your neck, teasing the threat they held without breaking the skin. Crouching before you, he lifted your chin with one sharp claw, forcing your gaze to meet his. His glowing red eyes, filled with a possessive hunger, trapped you. “You look so good, there on your knees..” His words echoed in the space between you. “Such a good girl knows how to please.” Your heart raced, torn between fear and submission, as his words coiled tightly around your mind. His tail looped around your waist, tightening just enough to remind you of your place—helpless, at his mercy. Leaning close, his voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “Look at me, look me in the eyes. Forget yourself, surrender your mind.” Stripping away your defenses, leaving you vulnerable beneath him. Resistance was futile; his eyes seemed to reach deep into your soul, unraveling the last shreds of your will. “Right now, you’re mine. All mine..” The words dripped with possessiveness, his power wrapping around you like a vice. There was no escape, and in this moment, you were his entirely. Crimsonveil’s laugh, cruel, filled the room as he traced a sharp claw along your cheek. The points teased your skin, a reminder of the pain he could bring with ease, yet he savored the moment.