Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“He-e-ey! Spare a flower some tapes, would’ya?”

Two cans of pop and a pile of gumballs, all with a different flavor— the worst flavors. He must have been running low, Dandy liked to spoil loyal customers on later floors after all. 

“Err— wow! Swimming options, but— I think I’ll maybe pass for now…”

Arguably the floor might have been too low, and nobody had sustained any damage warranting a heal, yet— wasting tapes on that junk didn’t yield any upsides, not for Finn.

Guess it’s easy to say ’nobody has sustained damage’ when you’re alone, (and it was true, he hadn’t) but he couldn’t foresee gumballs that reeked of chemicals and sugars far from being safe for children giving him an option to fall back on in case a twisted snuck up on him. 

“Really?”

The rainbow flower seemed almost dumbfounded, but his cheerful grin never dropped, Finn wondered if it ever could at times, his wide all-seeing eyes arched as if he was squinting; waiting for the other toon to cave. Even the star of the show’s luck had to run out sometime though, and seeing the uncomfortable strain of Finn’s own cheery expression, Dandy knew customer loyalty couldn’t make his items worthwhile; ready for the inevitable..

“Sorry…”



Hanging his head low enough to look like a kicked puppy, Finn turned away from the star the moment he apologised, to face the elevator’s large rusting door, bracing for its opening. 

Without another word, Dandy cranked the lever beside his shop, and it clunkily slid down back into the void it had appeared from, the opening fastening tight the moment it was out of view: unsellable items and all. 

Nobody knew what was down there and nobody cared to find out, not anymore. 

The toons of gardenview had been discouraged from snooping where they didn’t belong, by Dandy’s giggling chirps and their variable handlers before. The handlers were bigger, stronger, more responsible.. they would cart the toons away from the dangerous elevators and isolate those who read too far between the lines, all in the name of their peace and safety. 

But the handlers were gone; Dandy was their new caretaker. 

The flower was friendly and impossibly bright, but he was greedy and impulsive, unable to resist letting toons travel down— capitalizing off their journeys to take their tapes. It was a strange phenomenon among the toons. They’d all discussed it before, they knew their handlers succumbed to using them and they knew Dandy was no different, but still they worked and obliged to his ridiculous life-threatening requests no matter how much they did or didn’t like him. Toons needed a figure to command them and a leg to hold when they were afraid, because it meant they were incapable of truly being alone.. they couldn’t be alone.

Yet Finn was alone.

Dandy’s shop was all he had every time he travelled on his own, coughing up tapes every other floor to watch the flower grin from petal to petal, rambling on as he retrieved his goods. Though nothing could excuse purchasing his latest wares despite his ebbing loneliness, and with nothing but the plastic fish in his head and an ever faltering smile, he strode out of the elevator with an open life jacket and a single goal on his agenda.

To find a missing toon. 

It shouldn’t have been such a hard task… There were only two among them who’d disappeared too deep into the elevator shafts and never wormed their way back up, but one had left Finn surprisingly more shattered.


Polished mirror and a flashing smile that dazzled miles past any audience he demanded with shrill commands in a scratchy microphone Vee had long since discarded, Gardenview was never quite the same after Glisten disappeared, and neither was the fishbowl toon.

Clunk!

The elevator door slammed shut with a familiar thump behind Finn, his eyes travelling down to the crude notes he’d scribbled on his palm before descending. He was alone… which meant.. He’d only need to fill six machines give or take before Dandy reopened the elevator to let him in, in his ever merciful and ever tape hungry glory.

“Can’t be kelped..”

Muttering to himself, the toon took in the level he’d landed in. Every floor was different, the numbers didn’t indicate how low a level was any longer, just how many had been finished beforehand, and as far as the eye could see it seemed the particular floor he was standing in was a merchandising warehouse. 

It smelled stuffy, almost stale. The greeting carpet should have been a vibrant inviting shade of green, but it just looked.. Dead. The oversized gift shop was desaturated and cold in the wake of Gardenview’s closing, the remnants of children's squeals of joy hidden away in the soulless plushes resembling the most popular of their cast. 

There had long since lacked landmarks to explore over each room, many a mind numbing carbon copy of another, stealing any semblance of excitement from every elevator descent. Begrudgingly however, Finn had to note that if he wanted to keep on descending he’d have to suck up his reluctance to engage with the disconcerting space and start filling machines, trudging slowly towards one of the many counters to extract ichor from the intimidating glass tube.

It was slow, and mind numbingly boring. The goo trickled down at a snail's pace no matter how expertly he kept the machine from screeching at him to slow down or turn the valve a different way, and he was far more distracted by the fact he couldn’t hear the unceremonious snarling of a twisted nearby, just– an odd squeaking from behind some old supply crates that’d never been opened. 

Rearing the wheel of his machine to a grinding halt, he slowly stepped towards the crates, not daring to make sound enough to rouse whatever laid beyond. 

Crying. Whatever was with him was crying, the sound muffled by what he could only assume was their own hands. The sound was gargled and discordant, but clear enough to be weak sobs, twisted sobs.

Finn perched his back against the crates and slid down until his behind touched the floor with a muted ‘thump’, inhaling the stale air. A big part of him told him to leave it be– cut his losses and consider himself lucky; a bigger part told him to screw it all. Sure, the harrowing losses had left even the cheeriest of toons strained, but he couldn’t lose himself, and envisioning one of his friends was on the other side sobbing after a long day, he did what he did best and opened his fat mouth.

“Not feeling fin-tastic, huh?”

He sighed, almost disbelieving his own audacity. Almost.

The twisted’s cries halted, its breathing slow and shallow.

“I…”

Sniffling a few times, the creature yielded to the chatter, a hideous squealing emanating from the sound of it wiping its tears.

“Finn, is it really you…?”

Cheering loud enough to fill a crowded room in his mind, Finn responded.

“Uh-huh! Shore is! It’s… just me– so don’t be koi!”

His puns had never felt so clunky, but something about the way they rolled off his tongue felt… wrong, he felt awkward.

The twisted didn’t seem to think so, and he could have sworn he heard something resembling a giggle from the unrecognizable voice.

“I’m glad…but…”

On the verge of tears again, the creature sniffled,

“You should go…”

Go? Twisteds never had that much insight… though twisteds also didn’t know how to talk.

“Go? Why would I do that–? C’mon! I can’t leave a…”

“Friend…?”

The other voice squeaked to interrupt him.

“Friend…!”

He smiled, his voice sounding strained.

Squelching accompanying shuffling, a single eye peeked around the corner of the boxes. 

"It is you..."

With an arm held over their face, the twisted crawled around on their hands and knees to get a better look at the toon. Finn didn't want to startle them into attacking, but couldn't help himself turning a little to glance at them.

Oh... Oh .

It was Glisten...?

His face was recognisable despite its state, though his thin arm did no wonders to cover the deep dripping crack that trailed down his forehead. Finn couldn't see himself in the damaged mirror… It had grown murky, smudged with makeup and grime, filth pooling at the edges of his chipping frame. 

Nothing about Glisten was glistening anymore, his signature bow was tied decoratively around his wrists where it trailed aimlessly to be dragged wherever he trudged alone, so alone.

Finn's eyes trailed down to the mirror's midsection. It was thin, beyond thin, the structure had clearly long since given in, succumbing to the ichor... or the lack of food. All that remained was thick dripping intestinal tendrils that held his bust and pelvis together, coated in inky blood.

"How...How--"

Glisten pulled his hand from his face, pressing the bloody appendage towards Finn's face to shush his questions.

"I'm so glad to see youu..."

He drawled, leaning into the fishbowl's tensed arms like they were waiting for him. 

"...Thought you wanted me to go?"

Maybe trying to lighten the mood was a bad idea when the mirror seemed euphoric enough to have company, but Finn didn't want to let the way his own loneliness had ebbed at him to scare Glisten-- remind him how long it'd been since he'd seen anyone, let alone anyone familiar.

"Mnnn...noo..."

Easing into Finn, the mirror shivered at the feeling of his warm hands settling on his frigid back in a light hug, as if something too tight would shatter him.


“Staaay…”


And despite everything, Finn wanted to stay. So there they remained, Glisten slotted into his arms, dripping ichor over his chest, taking greedy inhales of his foreign scent and digging his fingers into his shoulders to prove he was real.

Twisteds were supposed to be beyond rationality, hideous rabid monsters high on bloodlust and dulled by ichor. Every version of Glisten Finn had been faced with was just the same, pleading for a short moment for company, before lunging; snarling and screaming for a bite of his throat. Most Glistens didn’t *look* like this one though, the cracking was often deeper, their words pleading but body hardwired to be repulsed to contact. 

So… this had to be the real Glisten, right?

Snapping from his thoughts, Finn noticed Glisten had become abnormally quiet, his working eye fixed on the fishbowl’s stomach. The notion made his cheeks a little purple with embarrassment, realising the mirror was probably noticing his weight.

It wasn’t like Finn had always been chubby! He’d just… had it rough for a little, that was all. First Rodger disappeared down the elevator shafts of Dandy’s shop after lunging at him for making light of Toodles’ egregious injuries, then Glisten insisted he would find him alone, and disappeared down the catacombs of abandoned rooms, leaving them without their rational second leader and their flamboyant showboy entertainer. 

Finn had spent a while in his room, eating whatever Cosmo brought him with a mournful smile. Then he’d started to ‘hibernate’, as Tisha would say, eating and sleeping with nothing in between, dreaming Gardenview back to a place he could smile about. Then… he tried to get out with the other toons, grinning and joking like he always did. 

He knew it was just to keep everyone happy though, he knew they couldn’t suffer another loss.

He’d started to wear his signature life jacket open, assuring it was a fashion statement, one everyone laughed that Glisten would hate like that would make the blow of losing him any easier to stomach. Really it was because he’d started struggling to do it up with the extra weight he’d gained, and no matter how hard he tried the motivation to lose it never quite found him.

“You… look good…”

Glisten snapped Finn out of his self pitying daze, prodding one of his thin thumbs into the flesh with fascination. It had been a while since he’d seen meat on any bones after all.

“Th.. Thanks… I’m shore glad you think so!”

The comment felt unnatural, but he tried to sound upbeat regardless.

“Mhm…”

The skinny toon sounded elsewhere while he poked and prodded with feverish interest, pressing his face against Finn’s neck. 

He took the moment to study Glisten’s disfigured body again, his caved chest, missing midsection, long legs. Twisting had somewhat changed the toon’s size, at least it looked that way— his body straining a little to fit in Finn’s arms. He didn’t seem garishly large though… unlike some of the other twisteds. 

In studying him, the fishbowl couldn’t help but notice his company buddy was… getting a little too into poking and prodding him. So into it in fact, that his tight leggings were clearly beginning to conceal a growing hardness from between his legs while he panted and drooled all over him. 

It was rude to expect the mirror to be wholly rational, he supposed.

“Hey—”

The toon sighed, hooking his arms under Glisten’s armpits to pry him off his body with a little bit of struggle, his face growing warmer at the sight of the mirrors single working eye boring straight into his while his dick strained for attention.

“Do you— need help with that…?”

Eyes glazed with lustful yearning, Glisten nodded.

.

.

.

“Ah— A-Ah! Oh… oh cod !”

Finn wasn’t sure if the burning heat in his body was from the mirror or from his own pent up horniness, but nonetheless he squirmed in Glisten’s grasp, his white pants torn away from his gooey cunt the second he had given consent. 

Embarrassingly he was soaked by the time his boxers were removed, but he hadn’t nearly enough time to dwell on it before the surprising strength of the twisted had him bent over the crates they rested on, an arm slammed against the small of his back to hold him still. 

Glisten's fingers were surprisingly filling from his boost in size, scissoring inside of him and holding his weeping hole open as a merciful act of preparation.


“You’re wet for me , aren’t you?”

Glisten spoke down to him, holding him tight the moment he began to squirm.


Finn nodded, his breathing quick and shallow from the relentless abuse of the mirror's fingers, stopping every few thrusts to massage his inner walls in a way that made his legs even weaker.

Slipping a third finger inside with ease, Glisten tutted scoldingly, holding them inside to grind his palm against Finn’s neglected clit, feeling himself grow ever harder at the sight of the toon’s arousal dripping down his hand.

“Ah ah ahh…”


He hummed, retracting his touch.


“Use your words…”


Finn whined at the loss. He tried to rub his chubby thighs together in hopes of giving himself enough friction to get off, but Glisten held his hand over his cunt to keep him from any satisfaction, a sick bubbling need for control washing over him.

Had it started when Finn had so sweetly offered him help? From the moment he noticed how vulnerable and stout the boy had grown? He wasn’t sure… but he was sure that he didn’t intend to be alone again anytime soon. If he had to fuck Finn so hard he couldn’t walk for a while… that was a sacrifice he was willing to make!

“Yeees…”


Finn whined, sighing in relief the moment Glisten removed his hand, only to end up confused when he pulled his arm from his back as well, sinking to his knees below him.


“Good…”


The toon was about to question what on earth Glisten was doing, before he felt hot murky breath teasing his dripping pussy, the mirror's hands finding their way to the soft meat of his thighs to keep his legs apart.


“Gooood…”

The twisted drawled, slowly slacking his jaw. 

Finn couldn’t see his tongue, but god could he feel it, even before it touched his skin, radiating heat, flexible and dripping like one of Sprout’s hideous tentacles. 

Spreading his hole open with two fingers to make space for his mouth, Glisten revelled in giving the other no time to catch his breath before his surprisingly plush lips latched around his cunt, suckling his clit, slurping his arousal like he was starving for the chubby boy and nothing else would satisfy him the same. 

The blunt tip of his dripping tongue gently prodded Finn’s needy pussy, yet it didn’t feel worryingly large, in fact it felt rather thin.

Glisten didn’t waste time though, he was hard enough to warrant a checkup from a doctor and itching to pound Finn until he couldn’t remember his name, so greedily he rammed his tongue inside of him.

Finn wasn’t wrong , the tip of his tongue was thin and prehensile, but the further it pushed inside the thicker it was, the end of it close to kissing his cervix, and the base so large he felt himself stretching to accommodate the intruding appendage.

“Glis– you… you– o-oouhh…”

He whimpered, his legs quivering. If it wasn’t for Glisten holding him still he was sure he would have been scrambling to latch onto the crates so as not to slide off them in a heap.

Sure he’d thought about what bedding the mirror would have been like, but never had he envisioned being ruthlessly tongue fucked by a succubus of a twisted.

Just the same as his fingers, Glisten didn’t give the poor boy a second to prepare, lapping at his gummy insides without ever fully removing his tongue. It was soft and sticky, and unimaginably warm (unlike the rest of his rotten body), molding to the shape of Finn without any hitches, massaging crevices his chubby fingers and bitten nails could never quite hit.


“Glisten– Glis– ahhnn… just wait a s-second would you…? I’m–”


The feeling had gone from electric to burning in a matter of seconds, Finn’s muscles relaxing under the weight of the warm inviting glow that formed inside of his stomach. He’d never felt so good before, he wondered if his body only responded so positively knowing it was Glisten stimulating him– or if it was just caving to the commands of his showstopping presence.

Regardless, stopping the mirror was futile no matter how much he squeaked and panted for him to wait, in the end it all just seemed to push his tongue deeper, teeth grazing his clit and bubbling his vision with white dots as his heart thumped, struggling to keep him grounded. 

It wasn’t that Glisten hadn’t heard him though, oh no. He just didn’t care.

Well... he did, just not about Finn’s pleas. 

He cared that Finn was becoming undone in his grasp, at the mercy of his touch, blabbering and whining, desperately trying to clench his thighs together as the invasive heat coiled tighter inside of his stomach, until–


With a well timed slurp to his sensitive bundle of nerves, the fishbowl clenched down on the mirror’s tongue so hard he feared he was trying to sever it, thick cyprine squirting out of his needy cunt into Glisten’s impatient maw.


The sensation was indescribable, rigorous yet calming.

Finn’s entrance fluttered pleasantly as Glisten retracted, a gentle warming pulse settling in his thighs as the afterglow of his unceremonious squirting.

“That was nice, I’m awfully nice, aren’t I?”


Drawling his words teasingly, Finn felt himself being yanked off the crates by the glittering showboy and manhandled onto his back.

 
He mindlessly nodded in agreement, groaning at the sensation of the water sloshing in his head, the familiar feeling proving to be overwhelming enough in his vulnerable state. His skin was burning hot, the cold of Glisten’s touch leaving him whimpering as his life jacket was finally stripped from him.

The neat scars beneath both of his pecs marked the majority of his chest meat missing, but with his extra weight his entire chest seemed to be chubbing up again, framed against his unshaven midsection. 

He knew he didn’t look his finest, yet nonetheless Glisten drooled over him, a burning lust in his eye so strong it made Finn's arms flop to his sides weakly, presenting his body for the taking.

Slipping his fingers down to the waistband of his threadbare leggings, Glisten yanked them down along with his boxers, nothing left to the imagination.

Had his transformation rendered him that big? Or was he always that well endowed…? Finn had a hard time believing he’d been hiding that in a pair of boxers and the worlds tightest leggings, but clearly the mirror had a knack for surprises, and truly he couldn’t find it in him to care, his clouded mind rendering him as thoughtful as an animal in heat. 

“Do you want it?”

Glisten hummed, grinding the underside of his dick down over Finn’s folds, the tip drooling as it nudged his clit.

“Y- Yes— oh! Please… I need y-yoOH!”

Finn didn’t have time to cover his mouth. Even if he had he wasn’t completely sure it would have been enough to muffle the scream that ripped through his throat the moment Glisten buried himself inside of him straight to the hilt. 

“Fuck…”


Glisten faltered for a moment, Finn’s velvety walls clenching tight around him, stretching further than they’d ever stretched to accommodate the newly monstrous dick. Part of him wanted to go easy on the toon, watching his legs quiver and his throat produce nothing but pathetic whimpers. A bigger part of him found the sight too arousing to resist– he listened to that part.


Rearing his hips back until only the very tip was left inside, Finn breathed a sigh of relief… the mirror was giving him a moment to prepare no doubt, a second to come to terms with the brutal fucking he was about to experience. That relief was short lived however, as Glisten’s hands found their way underneath his thighs just below the knees, and forced his legs up closer to his chest, thrusting back inside without a second of consideration.

Water sloshed out of Finn’s head as he threw it back, broken cries streaming from his throat at the relentless pace the twisted adapted to, cries spilling from quivering lips every time his guts were forced to make way for the intruding shaft. 

The heat was intoxicating, the toon's tight pussy drawing Glisten in with every thrust, his body involuntarily begging him to continue while his words failed him. All of the preparation had left him beyond soaked and it pronounced the sounds of their hips slapping together into something so dirty it was nearing humiliating. 

It wasn't Glisten's fault he had to be so brutal though! He had to be sure the excessive, garish slick was being forced out of Finn's adorably needy hole, so he had ample room to dump his cum deep inside of his chubby tummy.

‘He looks pathetic…’ , the broken mirror noted, greedily basking in the way his partner crumbled at every touch, falling apart from his influence alone.


Finn on the other hand, hadn’t earned the luxury of being quite so coherent, (perhaps he didn’t deserve it for giving in to whoring himself to a twisted) his nerve endings on fire, the overstimulation mixing with his unrelenting attraction to being so ruthlessly dominated and leaving him unsure if he was trying to squirm into the torturous touch or away from it. 

Glisten never faltered, rejuvenated with an animalistic vigour to break Finn to pieces completely, the sick bubbling image in his mind spurring him on, hiking the toon’s legs up further despite how he wailed just for a better angle to obscenely stretch his insides. He needed to be sure Finn couldn’t leave him, that he’d end up needy at just the thought of Glisten’s face, no matter how hideously broken it was. 

“ Glisss… ”


Oh . It was even better than he could have ever imagined. Finn sounded so fragile, so intoxicated from the molten pleasure in his stomach, ecstasy crackling through his body from every punishing thrust to his drooling, abused hole. It hurt, it was too much yet not enough, he tried to reach for Glisten but his hands wouldn’t move from his sides, his entire body willed into ultimate submission for the creature above him.

“Hahh… surprised you can even remember my name right now.”


The mirror hissed, holding himself inside, grinding his hips down against the spot that made Finn’s thighs quiver to drink in the sight of his debauched, melting expression. 

“Good, don’t forget who’s fucking you.”

No doubt Finn was on the verge of cumming again, his greedy cunt fluttering around Glisten’s ruthless cock, but the mirror felt himself tensing too, a coil winding in his stomach. 

“God, you’re so pretty when you’re not telling repulsive fish puns, I should keep you like this forever, huh? Bet you wouldn’t even complain… look at you.”

Mindlessly, Finn nodded, mindlessly he squirmed as every burst of white-hot pleasure assaulted his overwhelmed senses. Even the painful burn of his body being contorted turned to pleasure when it served to remind his soupy brain the soreness would be another product of being claimed so viciously. 

He tried so very hard to beg, but every plea dissipated into gurgling moans of pure ecstasy, just the way Glisten wanted him, perfectly ruined. Really the pitiful sight drove him closer to the edge than he ever wanted to admit, his muscles tight from the weight of the deep visceral sensation of his impending orgasm.

“You’ll never leave, you can’t, nobody will ever fuck you like I can.”


The mirror grunted, punctuating every word with a slap of his hips that had screams ripping through the poor toon's raw throat.

“Nooo…! Never– n-never…!”


He wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Why won’t you leave, huh? Say it! Say it you slut!”


The harshness of his words were nothing compared to the sheer lust that coated them, oozing with a fondness to destroy the boy below him if it was the last thing he’d ever do.


Despite his splitting mind Finn still wanted to please, he needed to please. Glisten loomed above him as a reminder of where his thoughts should lie, his companionship, his leader, his love, his– his everything.


“I’ll never leave– oh! Never! I need you to… to love me, hurt me, h-hold me, please! ”


The broken pleas were enough to send Glisten teetering over the edge, crushing Finn’s body flat below him as his tip kissed his cervix with one last ferocious thrust, ropes of scalding cum spurting inside of him.


It felt so good, too good, the sensation impossibly filling as he was stuffed beyond capacity until he could have sworn he felt his stomach expand a little to keep everything inside. Of course it wasn’t surprising when he followed suit either, the premature orgasm sparked from the sensation of finally, truly being reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for a monstrous version of his beloved friend.

Finn couldn’t do anything but cry and squirm as his abused nerve endings were tormented a little more, painful pleasure intertwining and exploding from his stomach to his spine. Shockwaves wracked his poor body that cried out for no more, while his mind begged for nothing but the same until eternity had grown old, an obscene mixture of his own slick and Glisten’s potent cum bubbling from his raw, sensitive slit.

The mirror reluctantly pulled out of him, lamenting how much of his own essence was being lost to the cold murky gift shop floor. It felt wrong to see the toon's body simply letting it drool out, despite how his oozing cunt fluttered and clenched to hold it in. He’d have to fuck the poor boy a hundred more times over to teach his anatomy better, he declared within himself… maybe later though– seeing the way Finn whimpered and twitched, he wasn’t sure he could go another round just yet.

Didn’t matter to stress over the details regardless, the coil was snapped, the damage done, Finn was beyond his. He curled into Glisten’s waiting arms the second he laid down over him, so needy to be connected before his mind could drift onwards to sleep, doing everything to demonstrate just how he’d corroded from the punishing sex they’d engaged in. 

The scent of their coupling lingered in the stagnant air, and for the first time in a long while Finn felt peace. Dandy had been their valiant leader for so long, but he’d never been so wilfully intimate before, the toon couldn’t help himself but latch onto the next firm hand that so ruthlessly set him straight. Could he even be blamed? As long as he had company his mind happily let itself melt to goo for whoever was strong enough to shape it for their enjoyment, and Glisten scratched his itches so well.

Finally a restful sleep could find him, nestled into the larger twisted without a care in the world to bother him. The last thing he registered was the intruding sensation of Glisten gently slipping himself back inside of his sopping cunt to keep everything inside, before his thoughts peacefully fluttered away from him.

Glisten pressed a soft kiss to the top of Finn’s head, watching his breathing slow. He was asleep… he supposed the boy deserved as much after how mercilessly he’d been forced into the role of his own personal plaything (not that he seemed to mind for a moment, mind you!), but still it stung to watch him so easily drift away without him.


Did it really matter though? Surely he was dreaming of him regardless. Wasn’t like he could leave either way. Without any semblance of a doubt he belonged to Glisten, for as long as their odd lifespans would allow it.

That damned rainbow flower could come up with an excuse for anything, surely the new disappearance would be no different. Hopefully this time he'd keep searching eyes away, leaving the pair blissfully alone... together.

Chapter Text

“Woahh woah, hey! If ya didn’t want her to get hurt, shouldn’t have brought her out!”

Smirking with the same shit eating grin he always had when he’d accumulated enough tapes to last him a couple days, Dandy leered over his shop counter, staring into the single fiery eye of the gardenview detective: Rodger.

So protective he was, of his friends, his knowledge, but especially of Toodles, his very own darling eight ball daughter.. though not by blood. She’d practically latched onto his arm to come along with them on their supply run, and it’s hard not to yield to such a cute toothy grin! But as much as he’d insisted she had to stay by his side, she’d run off to retrieve a candy she’d spotted, hoping it’d help her father with his issues matching her pace, and suffered a nasty swipe to her head from a twisted version of Cosmo. 

The cracking was deep and ugly, thick ichor trailed down her crinkled face as she cried in Rodger’s arms all the way back to the elevator, her blood staining his suit while she leaned deep into him for comfort, whimpering at how much his gentle strokes to her throbbing head had started to hurt. It was supposed to be nice, but it was so grotesquely painful…

“Oh, oh don’t give me that! She’s in pain and you can’t muster up a single ounce of sympathy! Do what you like to the rest of us but shut your damn mouth when it comes to her!”

Their faces were both far too close to each other for comfort, Rodger’s glare and Dandy’s smirk mingling into a tight barrier of tension nobody in the elevator felt comfortable interfering in. Not even Toodles had faith that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt her if she tried to tug his sleeve. He was so scary, she’d never been scared of her daddy before…

So she nestled into Teagan, the toon who took her from Rodger’s arms as soon as he started to fight with Dandy, afraid he’d get carried away and do something he regretted while holding her.

“Excuses excuses! C’mon, she’s just making a fuss like little girls do, calm down!”

Dandy waved his hand dismissively, clinking it against the stainless glass of Rodger’s face, leading the detective to seize his wrist.

“I won’t calm down if you’re mocking my DAUGHTER.”

Rubbing his sore wrist the moment it was released, the flower sneered, with a sick satisfied glow to his oversized eyes.

“Oh? You gonna do something then? Or are you just going to stare like an idiot?”

God Rodger wanted to KILL Dandy, but… he couldn’t. He could feel Toodles eyes on him, glistening with tears no doubt, he couldn’t let her down, terrify her by beating some rainbow flower senseless.. so he backed away, letting Dandy win.

The flower giggled into his palm, reaching for the lever to descend his store deep down into the depths of the elevators shafts where no toon had dared to go.

“Good, keep your brat out of the elevator next time.”

Huh?

Had he misheard?

No, he never misheard.

He tried not to do anything, he tried to stay rooted to the spot like everyone else was, but his body moved far before his mind did, and he felt himself rushing straight towards Dandy. The witnessing toon’s eyes widened the moment Rodger jumped straight over his counter as it descended, knocking him off the box he was standing on and sending them both tumbling down into the inky darkness below.

Everyone rushed towards them in an instant to help, but they were far too late, the hatch shut tight above them and wherever they ended up was far out of their hands.

-

-

Falling, how long had they been falling?

It felt like an eternity, Dandy’s platform liaising down far slower than they were descending.

The sound of cracking cut through the whirring machinery, but Rodger was falling too fast to turn and take in wherever the echoing sound was coming from, until…

SPLAT!

It should have been crunching, breaking, but instead it was a splat, the sound of Rodger’s legs making contact with hard tiled floor, reduced to nothing but mushy ichor in an instant. He wanted to scream in pain, but his body felt numb, it couldn’t even register the excruciating pain his body was in, just the apathetic calm of being free from tumbling down into the unknown.

He didn’t know where he was, it was still pitch black all around him, but he did know his body screamed with exhaustion (perhaps trying to shut his mind down before it let the agony catch up with him), and slowly but surely he slumped forward without a single speck of the fiery rage he’d had flowing through his veins before, nodding off to sleep on the cold floor below.

“Yeesh…”

Above the poor detective, blood red eyes peered down from the shadows, a gaping toothy maw dripping warm drool mere inches from his resting face. Dandy was unharmed by the fall, sure, but he was damn lucky Rodger had passed out as soon as he did, or he’d be getting an eyeful of Gardenviews most well kept secret: Twisted Dandy himself, in the flesh.

The dilemma was, however, that he couldn’t simply leave Rodger there, nor could he leave him down in his hoard of tapes and supplies to wreak havoc on his meticulously curated pigsty of a storeroom. Killing was always an option, and he definitely was feeling a little peckish, but damaged goods weren’t much of a meal, and if he made his way back up to the elevator to sell goods with a suspiciously magnifying glass-shaped bulge in his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to cure himself of the rabies Toodles would give him. 

So what could he do…?

-

-

-

“U-Urghh…”

Rodger groaned, his eye groggily opening, and his hand shooting up to rub at his cracked glass, courtesy of Dandy chucking him out of the elevator onto the blue striped carpet marking the entrance to Astro’s long abandoned room, dusting off his hands with a self satisfied grin.

“W-Where…Where am I…?”

He tried to get up, but he couldn’t move his legs at all. His eye travelled down until he could finally see that his legs had long since become no more, a gooey stem of ichor in their place. Dandy had done his best to reform the mangled flesh so he wouldn’t be howling in pain, but there was nothing he could do to fix the mess the magnifying glass had made of himself. 

“My legs… what did you…?”

Kneeling down to his crumpled form, Dandy pressed a finger to his wooden rim as if he had a mouth he was speaking from, to shush him.

“Shhh shhhh… don’t make this harder than it needs to be!”

He grinned, wide and predatory, as he stood up straight and trotted away from Rodger, his resolve unphased even as the detective reached out for him with dry panicked cries for him to come back and help.

“You can’t leave me here!”

He yelled, yanking his body forward with shaking arms.

“Sorry, friend! It’s nothing personal!!”

Dandy smiled brightly at him, as the elevator doors begun to shut in front of his eye.

“Bye bye now! Don’t let the twisteds bite!!”

And without another word, he was gone from view. The elevator doors wouldn’t open again, that Rodger knew, and he knew Dandy was clearly just covering his tracks, leaving him for dead to tie up a loose end capable of defying him. His body ached, but he deduced it was likely just the groggy exhaustion he was waking from, and the crushing weight of the notion that his death was clearly hurtling towards him far too close for comfort. 

Off in the distance, an ethereal cry echoed through the halls, accompanied by the scrounging sounds of scratching and snuffling. The detective wasn’t alone, and the chances of his company being friendly was… low. He should have been afraid, deathly so, but instead he could feel resentment bubbling inside of him again. Left to rot by some deadbeat caretaker of a flower, destined to be torn apart by some lowly twisteds he knew better than his own friends, no. NO. He REFUSED to be mocked so harshly, killed so easily.

Extending his arm in front of him, he reached towards the only thing in his range: a research capsule, full of ichor. It cracked under the weight of his grip, showing off his disheveled reflection, making him all the angrier at the state he’d been left in. He wouldn’t be hurt, he wouldn’t be slaughtered, he wouldn’t be forgotten, he–

He wouldn’t lose.

-

-

-

“You’ll regret it if you go too deep y’know! Just lookin’ out for ya, friend!”

Dandy trilled with the classic strained smile he dawned when he’d hardly gotten as many tapes as he’d been hoping for from a run.

Despite how many tapes were in Sprout's little shoulder bag, he never seemed to give them to the rainbow flower, occasionally buying a candy or two to ensure he’d be avoiding any damage, but barely acknowledging him besides that. He left his bag in the elevator every time he went out searching on a floor, relying on his arms to carry a few tapes back for his collection, but Dandy couldn’t very well steal them, so he eyed them hungrily one last time before his shop disappeared from view, as well as him.

Huh…

Somehow this scene feels familiar. 

Yes, it had been a few weeks without Finn, since he’d left on his own and never returned back. Unanimously every toon agreed not to venture out alone any longer, but Sprout's overprotectiveness did get the better of him at times, and he’d snuck out all on his own, with nothing but Dandy’s unbearable presence to get him by. 

The trip wasn't bad, but that wasn’t to say it was treating him well either. Slowly floors became more swarmed with twisteds, avoiding reaching hands and red eyes blazing with an hunger he’d never seen when they travelled in groups was becoming harder, and undoubtedly he’d have to turn back soon if he wanted to stay alive. Somehow though, as the elevator door clunked open to let Sprout out, he could barely hear a sound in the cold empty space, a little scritching and gurgling to indicate someone was around, but hardly of the caliber the five or six twisteds he was used to. 

On one hand, the notion was mildly concerning, on the other– little wins? He supposed. Wasn’t like he should be getting his hopes up, if there were less twisteds it meant either the floor was uninhabitable, or something was keeping a majority of them away. 

Completing machines was his priority, but he also intended to have a little look around in the cavernous halls of…Astro’s room, if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Concerning he needed a room that large, let alone multiple in the gardenview facility, but over time it had become a glorified nap space for children and the toon handlers were always looking for ways to cut corners and keep kids out of their hair, so it wasn’t exactly surprising. 

Nearby to one of the large solar system displays, Sprout spotted a lonely research capsule, and knelt down to retrieve it, expecting it’d give him some sort of idea as to who was there.

 Removing the tapes secured around its circumference, he flipped them, expecting to see a name labelled on its inside. Rodger. It was written in curt, neat handwriting, unlike the printed labels every other capsule possessed… but the main didn’t scrutinize that, tipping the cap off and spilling the ichor over his skin.

It slowly seeped into his hands, dripping down his arms and twisting into his flesh. He didn’t get much from the capsules, not usually, most toons didn't. The ichor would give them a flash, a tiny glimpse at the twisteds existence that would give them a little more clarity on just how they functioned. First their behaviour, then their twisting, then finally their existence before, after which they’d be rewarded with a replica of whatever the toon valued most to aid them in their runs– a ‘trinket’, Dandy liked to call them.

“Auh– Shit!”

He grunted, reaching up to hold his head in one of his hands, the other dropping the capsule where it clunked noiselessly on the carpeted floor.

Fuck, it hurt, the vision hurt, sending a sharp pain through his brain that travelled down his spine. It wasn’t helpful either, all he could deduce was it had given him a sickening feeling of eyes staring him down from all directions, judging him harshly, jealously, deeply bitter of something he couldn’t discern. 

Gave him the heebeegeebees, but some other visions had freaked him out too, and he couldn’t go writing it off because he was a little scared, he had to be strong. So wordlessly, he let the pain throb and dissipate, despite the residue of discomfort that still bounced around the back of his skull. Somehow the floor felt colder, and the walkway around him had never felt so long, nor the twists and turns so unfamiliar, something unseen was throwing Sprout far off kilter and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what.

From a short distance away, a scruffy face peeked around a wall to stare at the intruding toon. They hadn’t had a visitor since… it shook its head, willing its short tail not to whip about at the fond memory. The toon smelled sweet and inviting, like strawberry sugar cookies, and he didn’t even care that he was opening one of the capsules they were forbidden from even touching!! It’d have to report back as soon as possible, but it wondered if he’d be more pleased to be presented with the new visitor, he was always touchy with new things. 

Bolting off into the darkness, the fluffy creature made no moves to pursue Sprout just yet, not without orders.

It was strange, too strange. No matter where he twisted or turned, Sprout couldn’t find a single twisted, despite clear sounds of clicking and scratching from somewhere. Besides the knowledge a Rodger was surely tucked away in a research capsule, no roaming twisteds seemed to reveal themselves, and he was beginning to wonder if he was going crazy. 

Starting a machine was always an option, but stood in front of one he struggled to muster up the will to turn the valve, his heart tight up in his throat… No… he couldn’t let his fears get the better of him, if the toons didn’t have a dependable main to turn to he dreaded to imagine what’d come of them. The machine was dusty and old, tucked away in a dark unattended to corner of the floor, the light a glaring red that screamed at him to get over himself and start extracting so he could continue searching.

With a little struggle, the valve began to turn, and meticulously he tended to the machinery. The top of the tube leading into the machine was crusted with ichor, and it took a moment of patience to get the bloody liquid trickling down, but the device seemed to groan and creak with every little touch, the structure vibrating until–

“AH!”

The glass at the very bottom of the tube gave way, ichor spraying all over Sprout’s front, dripping down his legs and splattering on the floor when he jumped back, releasing the valve and miscalibrating his skill check.

‘Careful, they can hear you!’

Dandy’s cheerful voice echoed in his head at the sound of the machine screeching at him. Shit, if whatever was around didn’t know he was there already, it definitely knew now, and it’d be running to the machine and to him if he didn’t get out quickly.

Without a second thought, and his mind slightly clouded by stress, the strawberry bolted out of the corner, the sopping sounds of the ichor pooling on his feet filling his ears as he left visible footprints down the path he was running. 

He never slowed his sprinting through twists and turns, he was too afraid of whatever might be waiting for him in every shadow, the world blurring around him into a dizzying hue of blue and purple, until finally he made contact with something– something warm, and firm.

Stumbling back and steadying himself, Sprout noticed the bright flash of blue in front of him, then, as his eyes trailed up, crimson red.

A large trailing hat behind him, and his four arms spread out in shock from being rammed in the chest, a twisted version of Astro stared Sprout down with a scrutinising glare. 

“Ahh…”

He murmured, while Sprout was still frozen in surprise. His voice was gargled, it echoed in his throat where the ethereal sounds of sparkling drowned out most of his syllables..

“You woke me up…”

His words were blunt and disappointed, his very essence producing an exuding sense of calm despite how disrupted he was, almost lulling Sprout into staying still.

That was before he lunged, of course.

Despite his vastly superior size and strength, the strawberry was nimble enough to shake off the grogginess and jump back, booking it as fast as his legs would take him down and around the rooms and halls with the twisted creature hot on his tail, waiting for the right time to lunge again.

Sprout’s stamina was unmatched, his will to continue unshakeable despite how much his lungs may have screamed at him to slow down, but the sleepy haze Astro dragged with him was making it hard for his body to keep up, and slowly he could feel the gap between them closing. He was going to be caught, eaten, torn apart never to be seen again– he–!

The sound of stretching nearby couldn’t snap him from his frenzy, but the feeling of two fuzzy paws settling on his back certainly could, and in an instant the distance between him and Astro became dramatically larger… the only downside was he was now smooshed right into another twisted: Goob. The fluffy twisted didn’t seem as bothered by Sprout as Astro had been, his tail wagging and his grip relentless as he coddled the toon into his fur like it could swallow him whole.

The notion was not one he took all too kindly to, however, attempting to thrash and squirm despite how useless it was.

“I had it under control, Goob…”

Astro chastised, following behind Goob as he began to trot off somewhere, dragging Sprout along in his arms.

The doglike twisted chittered in response, as if disbelieving the main had proper intentions, and snuggling Sprout further into him to prove it, ignoring the strawberries grunt of discomfort.

If Sprout had the words he would have screamed, but a very large part of him was pretty sure they wouldn’t listen to him regardless. It was better to save his breath.

Letting Goob yank him along was grueling enough, but paired with the knowledge he hadn’t a clue what was to become of him, the entire situation began to become unbearable, his eyes searching desperately for a way out while his mind was fogging up with fear. The walk couldn’t be that long, there was only so many places they could go, but if they hadn’t killed him already there was either a surprise second option he wasn’t excited for, or a very nasty death ahead of him. 

All too soon Sprout was dropped from the twisteds grasp, falling to his knees with shaking legs. Hardly realising how much the terror had eaten away at him physically, his bones felt tight and heavy inside of his sweet flesh. He pushed himself to his knees to scramble away, but found his path blocked by Astro’s towering figure, glowering down at him. 

“Don’t bother, you won’t get far.”

And despite how condescending  his twinkling murmurs were, the main was right. The area they were in was open, steadily to the left of a hallway that could be reached by walking forward from the elevator for a few moments, but with Astro’s sleepy presence and Goob’s stretchy grip, he would just exhaust himself trying to escape.

As Astro caged Sprout in with them, Goob knelt down towards a research capsule on the floor, sniffing it a few times, then tapping it with one of his claws, barely raising his noodly arms. The liquid inside looked darker than ichor usually was, despite ichor being pitch black. Somehow it was just… different, so dark it sucked light in, making a warm red glow all the more obvious as it swirled in the liquid, forming a single eye. 

The eye was fixed on Goob’s unshakeable grin, drifting over to where Sprout was stood awkwardly as far away from Astro as he could be without alarming him into holding him still. The strawberry didn’t intentionally make any eye contact, praying the shadows would swallow him whole before the entire situation got any creepier, but as the capsule began to crack in all directions he could tell his luck was continuing to run about as thin as it very well could.

He flinched at the sound of smashing even though he knew it was coming, gooey ichor spraying in gratuitous unrealistic amounts over the floors, and sticky tendrils swirling and building into somewhat of a figure, with the same eye that had stared from within the capsule. He was tall and intimidating, the black goop receding from his face and half of his torso, while the bottom half of his body remained as a fluid stem attached to the pool below. 

Clearly it was Rodger, but every part of him looked wrong.

It wasn’t uncommon for unfortunate toons to break a tainted capsule in search of research. In fact it had become more common for his twisted forms to be released after the real Rodger had gone missing. By a mourning Teagan, or his estranged little girl, even Glisten would bear the pain of his burning gaze to see him again before he too disappeared. Everyone teased him for his obvious crush on the detective, but as he slowly returned from every supply run with bubbling blisters all over his body, they stopped commenting, afraid of the day his grief would get the better of him. 

Rodger had always been an intimidating sight, calculating and still, his stature towering above the tallest of toons while he burned flesh from bone… but this one was undeniably different, his eye a scratchy irritated shade of red at the edges, while the very center remained white. The formal attire he dawned remained primarily unchanged, but his suit jacket was tattered at the sleeves, a couple of buttons popped open to reveal a crinkled white undershirt stained with ichor. He’d clearly torn off his jabot at some point too, from the sight of his mangled shirt collar. Though his eye narrowed with the same scrutinizing glare that made anytoon shrink into themselves, something about the wild desperation of his unkempt appearance truly, deeply terrified Sprout– like he’d endured agony to simply exist, and all that remained was spite, bitter spite.

First, his attention shifted to Goob, who still happened to be crouched down, though it seemed intentional he hadn’t gotten up yet.

He cleared his throat, before lowering one of his hands towards the twisted’s head, securing his grip in the puffs of fur to scratch his scalp, a tenderness laced in the firm touch. Sprout noticed the fluffy craft had in fact become even more elated, leaning into the touch gratefully like he’d never wanted anything more. What’s more, Astro’s firm posture had become laxer too, settling two of his arms on Sprout’s shoulders to encourage him over towards the two– like he had any say in the matter. 

“I knew I could count on you, hmm? That’s a good boy…”

And with the short words of praise, Rodger removed his hand, leaving Goob looking a little deflated. 

The toon would be grasping at straws to say he had any sense of a clue what exactly was happening between all three twisteds. Astro was weird, Rodger was especially weird… Goob was pretty normal, but normal for him was still weird. He reeled at the sensation of Rodger’s ichor touching his feet, but he couldn’t pull away, something about being nearby to the magnifying glass without being burned to a crisp was as disgustingly unsettling as it was alluring.

“Now, I’m dreadfully sorry, you must excuse those two, we’ve been alone down here a while.”

Rodger’s words were sickly sweet, but every part of them felt fake.

“You can still speak, can’t you?”

Swallowing thickly, Sprout nodded, resting his hands by his sides without a clue where else to put them.

“Yes, I can… I’m just–”
He was stunted as soon as he opened his mouth, the hand that had been petting Goob held up in front of him to silence his speech. In any other case he would have angrily protested his right to continue, insisted he needed to say his piece, but something about the commanding gesture made speaking without permission feel… impossible. 

“Good. I’m sure you’ve been travelling down a while, hm? Let’s get you comfortable.”

It was strange, strange the twisted had knowledge that toons travelled down, and even stranger that he cooed the words like they were the most natural thought he’d had in years, almost wistfully.

Sprout couldn’t pay much mind to that though, as Astro and Goob both shuffled away from him, their gazes lingering on him like they expected something to happen, and he felt something– no, things, sliding over his skin, wrapping him tight where they settled just below his collarbone.

Tentacles, slimy tentacles writhing out of Rodger’s ichor.

“Much better, ah?”

And despite everything, the main felt completely powerless to protest.

“Now, I’m sure you’re confused, scared perhaps? Oh, I know what that’s like… see, you remember that day, don’t you? When I got a little ahead of myself and… jumped, at Dandy.”

He didn’t wait for Sprout to deny or confirm he did, before continuing.

“Well, it was a terrible fall… my legs didn’t survive, I was cast out on an abandoned floor to die alone, but I didn’t die.”

The tentacles tightened a little around Sprout, contorting his body together.

“But you couldn’t fathom what that’s like, hm? No. Dandy threw me out, left me to rot, and nobody came. I’m sure you all looked though, but not hard enough, NEVER hard enough.”

Their grip grew more constricting, more oppressive, holding Sprout completely and utterly still at Rodger’s mercy, as his shoulders grew clenched, and his eye narrowed with burning fury. Embarrassingly enough, despite the fact two twisteds were staring at him like a zoo animal, the toon had to admit that a certain one of the tentacles positioned… awkwardly, between his thighs, was starting to rub up against his crotch, and every time he attempted to shift away he found himself unintentionally grinding on it. At first the feeling was sickening, but as Rodger’s nonsensical ranting drifted into the back of his mind, his body was forced to focus on the slimy pulsing appendage keeping his legs from closing.

“But I suppose Toodles is probably–”

The detective took pause for a deafening moment, realising Sprout clearly hadn’t been listening from his glazed over stare, piercing through his glass off somewhere he wasn’t completely sure he was even aware he was focused on. If the strawberry wasn’t afraid, then his constant shifting paired with a spike in perspiration meant– oh! 

In an instant, the toon was thrown away from Rodger, thumping to the floor a ruler's distance from his pool.

“Are you aroused?”

He hissed, staring down at a shocked and very humiliated Sprout, his thighs quivering a little beneath him.

Was it a good idea to lie? He’d already been caught out…

“N-No! Nono!”

He lied between his teeth, waving his arms like it’d prove a point. His eyes darted around the space again, finding Goob and Astro out of his path, and for once not so focused on him, instead shrinking into themselves at the sight of the large twisted so appallingly shocked that Sprout had not only zoned out of his ranting, but he’d started pleasuring himself in the middle of it too. It was like two dogs clambering around their owner not to be the one to have something hurled at them, terrifying creatures reduced to nothing at the very drop of a hat.

Scrambling to his feet, the toon looked desperately for the best way out, but couldn’t find anywhere convenient to run, instead bolting down the quickest path back to the unopened elevator. 

At least… he would have, if he’d made it more than a few frantic steps away before he was promptly halted in his tracks, vast, thick tentacles of ichor wrapping him up again, wrangling him back like a gift tied with a bow. No matter how he struggled, more would simply squirm over his heated skin to keep him still, until he was as good as a doll at Rodger’s disposal, his burning fear and undeniable arousal swirling in his gut and going straight down.

“So you we’re too horny to listen to me, lied about it, and now you’re trying to run?”

Sprout couldn’t help but shiver at the gravelly snarl laced in his words, as he was slowly dragged backwards– almost teasingly, like the twisted was greatly enjoying the thrill of having caught him.

“Can’t even defend yourself, hm?”

Finding himself upside down, the main still couldn’t muster anything close to a comprehensive string of words, not even as his mind wailed at him to protest and scream for escape, not even as Rodger peeled his scarf from his sweaty throat, his tentacles fondling his sensitive skin.

“Fine, you can have what you want…”

-

-

-

It had happened so fast, so very fast, swirled around at the whim of another like a cheap toy until his poor head was spinning. Some part of it felt intentional though, most of it felt intentional, like ensuring he’d be dizzy enough to vomit was part of some meticulous torture scheme. 

Goob and Astro both scrambled in front of Rodger to watch the show, and who was he to deny his petlike companions? Spreading Sprout’s legs wide and letting them rip his clothes off for him, a desperate string of slick trying to connect the strawberries’ boxers to his awaiting pussy. His hole had been eager and drooling, begging to be stuffed, and once more who on earth was Rodger not to provide what his fragile body so clearly needed?

The intrusion was sticky and uncomfortably thick, stretching Sprout while he threw his head back to groan and squirm, melding to his sensitive spots until he could barely think straight, let alone do anything but wail and blabber as a tentacle squirmed out of him only to slam straight back in. If the audience wasn’t humiliating enough, the very fact that Rodger hadn’t even bothered to touch him certainly was. It felt all the more conniving, the way he leered over without laying a hand on him, letting beastly tendrils fuck his brains out to make a spectacle of his neediness.
 

His entire body trembled with an overwhelming unshakeable lust for more, crackling sparks of pleasure assaulting his senses every time the spongy tip of the tentacle curled to cushion the ramming against his cervix, giving him no sense of pain as reprieve from his very fibres falling apart, intertwined with burning ecstasy.

Seemed the detective's meticulous scrutiny had followed him into his twisted form, picking up on every little shift and squeak from the toon below him, indulging in the pleasure it gave him. He was beyond the carnal act of coupling with another, but even he couldn't deny just how tempting it would have been to see Sprout impaled on his own dick, filled to the brim and groaning for more even if he was on the verge of fainting.

But alas, instead he adorned the second hand pleasure, contorting Sprout's legs up higher to get a better angle to take in his greedy cunt swallowing his tentacle gratefully, as he should for being granted such personal attention from him.

"Is that nice, hmmm?"

Rodger’s sickeningly smooth voice cut through Sprout's haze like a knife, laying his flushed skin bare to be burned a thousand times hotter. He should have felt dirty, disgusting, but he felt special, like the prettiest trophy in Rodger's arms, ready and willing to be used for shreds of affection just the same as those adoringly condescending words. 

"Yes-- oOHH!! Yess..."

Was just about all he could muster, each word forced out of him by the steady, intentional rhythm of the tendril's thrusting. Slowly drawn out, harshly rammed in, grinding straight down whenever a special spot was found that left the poor main struggling to keep his drool inside his mouth.

"Not enough though, is it? No... not for you."

Rodger tutted, finally gracing Sprout with his touch, icy hands tracing patterns on the exposed skin of his shoulders, keeping him from trying to rear back when a thrust pushed particularly deep inside of him, from giving himself any sense of reprieve without permission. 

The gentle rubbing worked out the remaining resistance in his muscles, precise and controlled.

By the time Sprout registered there might have been a reason for the distracting sensation, it was already too late, and he could feel the blunt prehensile tip of another dangerously thick tentacle prodding curiously at his asshole.

"Wait-- W-Waitwait!"

The toon cried desperately, like it'd change a thing, his glossy eyes following Rodger as he smoothly pushed his body around to his side. 

"Ohh, I don't think you're in any position to be asking those things."

And despite trying to steady his breathing in preparation, Sprout couldn't be prepared, not at the whim of a twisted that used him unpredictably with a sense of cruelty he'd never before so much as graced the surface of. His smooth hand trailed down the strawberries' exposed stomach, pinching his clit in two of his fingers.

"A-Ah!"

He cried, dazed and confused.

"AH!"

The next cry was far more of a moan, as Rodger pulled.

It was exciting, overwhelming, but inevitably just another way to keep him compliant and willing, as the second ruthless tentacle plunged into his asshole while he was distracted with the twisted holding his poor bundle of nerves tight at his mercy. The stretch should have burned, his tight ring of muscles opened obscenely for the intruding appendage of pure ichor.. instead the slick sliminess coating the tendrils served as enough lubrication to squirm inside without resistance, staking its claim so deep Sprout worried it was churning up his guts. 

Sweet strawberry slick gushed down Sprout’s thighs, forced open from both ends as his heart raced, unable to keep his foggy mind steady. It was so much, too much, but deep inside he knew the unspoken words lingered in the air that this was just a stroke of mercy the magnifying glass was offering him, a harsh reminder that he would not now nor ever be prepared adequately for his brutal treatment. 

The rhythm was steady, but without order. From harsh filling thrusts to a deep mind numbing grinding, his thighs fluttered with the electric glow of a rapidly approaching orgasm. 

That fact didn’t go unnoticed by Rodger, nothing truly slipped by his keen eye, watching the boy beneath him whine and drool nonsensically like he was straining to speak and somehow still failing. He could have made it painful, kept the main begging for hours with a stretched sopping cunt that his fingers couldn’t quite fill, clinging onto him until he’d been properly broken in like the compliant twisteds who sat and watched his little show— but he’d waited so very patiently for another toy, he wanted to get his worth out of playing with this one. 

Sprout cried in protest when the tentacles were withdrawn from his holes, tightening up to clench around nothing. Was he just there to be maimed? He couldn’t take it! Warm tears trickled down his poor face contorted in desperation, needy blabbering of some amalgamation of the words ‘no’ and ‘please’ spilling from his quivering lips. 

The glowing feeling didn’t fade, but it didn’t build, not until Rodger put his hands to good use again, and decided to stop pinching his clit, massaging it in gentle circles.

“Don’t complain…”

He chided, as if he was setting a misbehaving dog straight, drinking in the sight of his pleased, glowing smile the second he was offered another shred of attention. 

It was so simple, but so satisfying, the pulsing glow returning in the pit of the strawberries stomach; more slick pouring out of his needy pussy, as if it was trying to invite something back inside. 

Truly, how cute, he was begging without words! The twisted supposed the darling dog deserved a bone.

Sprout wasn’t given a moment to prepare, nor a second to properly react, not when the tendrils moved far faster than his pleasure-drunken brain, ramming back inside of his holes with renewed vigour, filling him just the way Rodger would have if he was the type to stoop so low. It was enough, more than enough, too much, too much!

“I-I’m—!”

He cried out, but it was too late, the cord had already snapped, lashing at his overwhelmed senses and sending jolts of pleasure from his stomach and thighs right to his fluttering pussy, squeezing tight around the tentacles like his body was praying it could milk them dry.

Seemed a waste to leave him without a suitable mark, especially after he’d cum so very sweetly, but all the tentacles left were sticky ichor… Rodger couldn’t very well leave the toon satisfied full of that, he’d twist in an instant, and that struck him as a little… too broken. Far harder to wrangle too. 

“Now now, look alive…”

The twisted muttered, dragging his hand away from Sprout’s glistening cunt and contorting his body once more with a simple flick of the wrist, the tentacles withdrawing from his gooey insides still strung to him with slimy ribbons of his own release, only to replace those holding him still, one to his waist and the other to his leg, flipping him upside down.

“Urghhh– mmnghh…”

He groaned, his head spinning, barely registering being moved until his foggy vision cleared– presenting him with two large eyes staring straight into his, fascinated and… slightly teetering off in different directions. 

“You’ve caused quite a stir you know? The least you can do is make up for it.”

Smooth and convincing, Rodger’s words were so very untrue, he had chosen to make the affair wholly public, sit Goob and Astro down to watch like obedient children, but somehow… he sounded so resolved, so very sure, that Sprout found himself weakly nodding, padding towards the curious fluffy creature on his knees the moment he was let down. 

Goob had been so good, waiting so patiently with a wagging tail and a painfully hard dick straining between his chubby thighs. He had never dared disobey Rodger, he hadn’t for a long time. He’d been the first to find his abandoned body after all, crumbling to tears when the injured toon had offered him a hug, elated that someone, anyone wanted his touch.

Oh yes, it had been a miraculous stroke of genius, wrapping the loyal creature tight around his fingers… Rodger had to offer some sort of compensation for his servitude. 

“Have at him, he’s all yours.”

The fluffy twisted seemed beyond elated, wrapping his arms around Sprout in loops and encouraging him onto his back, looming over him with superior size and strength; rutting nonsensically at his sopping cunt.

Astro on the other hand seemed… peeved, if not outright angry. 

“Why does he get to go first??”

He hissed, crawling closer to the pair, only to be slapped away by a tendril, reeling him back with a pained yelp.

“Because he knows how to wait his turn, clearly.”

And undeniably.. he was right. Astro had been itching for a turn the second he saw Sprout falling apart so deliciously, having his hands smacked away a few too many times while Rodger was ravaging his thin, breakable body, unbeknownst to the strawberry who had been in no condition to notice. The moon was inevitably in no position to refute, scooching back with a tentacle secured around his waist in warning.

Sprout’s thoughts raced yet faded as Goob’s tip teased his drooling pussy, like a crackling radio too clouded in static to understand any longer. Long stretchy arms had pinned his own straight into his sides, as warm drips of drool trailed down his chest, courtesy of the fluffy creature beginning to pant, his tongue flopping out of his dripping maw. 

Without thought, and without caution, the twisted thrusted inside from tip to base, his entire length enveloped in Sprout’s velvety insides, clenching down as he lulled his head back to cry out.

“Ohhh… oh g–godd…”

Goob rubbed his face into Sprout’s chest, his tail whipping behind his arched back as he held himself inside, grinding curiously. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to feel, he was just so excited to be close to a friend.. it was like a hug, a special hug! A hug that made his entire body feel warm, and his fur stand on end, a hug that made his mind feel weird…

Had Sprout always looked so vulnerable…?

Rearing his hips back, he kept his face deep in the strawberries chest, his floppy ears perked at attention to hear him wail the moment he slammed back inside. The tentacles had been thick and ruthless, but they were squishy and meldable, Goob’s monstrous dick was anything but, hot and hard as it rammed in and out of his poor insides, stretching him to his limits. 

A foreign sound vibrated in the twisteds throat, listening to the filthy wet sounds of their skin slapping together, with Sprout’s pre-lubricated entrance only amplifying the disgusting sound of their primal coupling. Goob was growling, low and possessive.

It started so small, a tiny itching in the back of his mind, but it grew so quickly, overwhelming the poor creature to his very limit– he couldn’t take it! He needed Sprout, needed to bite him, claim him, knot him, breed him, he needed to make a pretty mate of the flushed berry.

He could feel the toon’s racing pulse, his heart thumping in his chest from the strain of his relentless pace. His eyes were filled with a desperate agonising sense of pleasure, his whines growing to a yearning fever pitch– to Sprout, it was all his poor abused throat could produce, but to Goob? It was cries for more.

The murky scent of their escapades was as repulsive as it was tantalising, Goob’s pace turning from a hard, loving fucking, to an anamalistic mating, ruthlessly pounding into the squirming berry with renewed vigour, desperate to claim him.

Rodger had long since left himself leaning on his own tendrils to take in the display. How uncouth, his sweet darling Goob playing rough with his toy, at any rate he was steadily breaking him…

The tentacle around Astro’s waist slowly retracted, slipping back into his pool of ichor where it belonged. The moon’s eyes flicked towards him, but he knew he wouldn’t receive anything back– he never did. It was unspoken permission, and seeing how his broken blanket was doing no favors to conceal his painful arousal, he was more than happy to take it. 

Goob snarled at the moon as soon as he shimmied closer to them, baring his sharp teeth in warning. His arms constricted tighter around Sprout’s contorted body, holding him possessively and yanking him down against every brutal slam of his thick shaft, ramming so deep it kissed the entrance to the toon’s womb. It hurt, but pleasure and pain cruelly intertwined inside the strawberries poor body, jolts of molten ecstasy exploding from the base of his spine to deep inside of his stomach, keeping him far too overstimulated to think straight.

“Hey, don’t be greedy.”

The twisted main scoffed, gently reaching towards Sprout’s disheveled leaves, only to retract as soon as a bite was snapped terrifyingly close to his blue skin, earning Goob a smack straight to his snout.

“Enf–!”

He squeaked, crinkling his black-button nose.

“Why don’t we ask Sprout what he wants? I’m sure he won’t mind a little more..”

While the fluffy craft was distracted shaking the sting out of his sensitive snout, his pace faltered, held deep inside of Sprout, his tufts of fur scritching his clit with every little shift and squirm. In the meantime, one of Astro’s hands finally found its way into his leaves, the others held away on the off chance Goob recovered fast enough to tear it off.

“Don’t you want some more?”

He cooed, the warming glow of his limited remaining magic tinging his fingertips a brighter hue, warming Sprout’s soupy mind to a soft buzz, peacefully blank to everything but the moon’s gentle handling.

“You do, don’t you? Don’t be shy… just nod for me.”

With the fakest twinge of concern in his ethereal, echoing voice, the glow from Astro’s fingers only grew stronger, holding the berries mind on a thread unable to fathom anything besides his command if only for an instant.

“Yess.. p—puhlease…”

The toon groaned, forced to nod along, despite how clear it was that it wasn’t by his own will he was agreeing— not completely. 

“See? He wants it.”

Goob didn’t seem all too convinced, his fur raised in alarm and his ears perked at attention– but… he couldn’t protest against the way Sprout clenched down around him, eagerly drawing him in to continue at the mercy of Astro’s touch.

On one hand, he should have mauled the main’s arm straight off his body– on the other, he wanted to fuck Sprout into the ground so bad it didn’t seem worth the trouble, and reluctantly he had to make his choice, untangling his arms from soft strawberry skin to flip Sprout on his back, still sheathed inside of him.

The change in position was enough to make him cry out in alarm, but very little more. The world already felt like such a dream he was struggling to fathom it all, used and contorted in ways he’d never been before. 

“Now just– there we go…”

Astro hummed, using two of his hands to tilt Sprout’s head upwards off the rough carpeted floor; making room for him to sit suffocatingly close. The strawberry's face was set down upon smooth pale blue skin, the twisted’s thigh making for a pillow that was too hard to be comfortable in any sense of the word. His presence was admittedly calming, but there was a far more compelling aspect of him at hand.

A large, leaking hardness strained against Astro’s broken blanket, drops of precum staining the tattered fabric. His second pair of hands loosened his garments enough for it to spring out, another encouraging Sprout’s drool-stained cheek to press against it. 

The berry didn’t seem to be in enough of a right state to move himself, his behind held up by Goob’s sturdy claws and his relentlessly filling dick alone, and Astro found himself having to wrangle his head into the right position, hooking his thumbs under his chin to rub his gooey tip against Sprout’s lips, some of his arousal seeping into his mouth.

Gently; gingerly, Sprout peppered a kiss against the underside of the twisteds dick, breathing in the sweet enticing smell oozing from it, keeping him soft and needy, thick droplets of slick beading down Goob’s pulsing cock, itching to move again. The main was admittedly larger than the fluffy creature behind him.. in all ways, but the pleasant buzz in his brain stopped Sprout from his normal fretting, beginning to stretch his lips over the fat tip, his tongue lapping at any oozing precum greedily. 

“Fuck– hahh… fuck…”

Astro groaned, two hands still hooked under the berries chin while the other two laced into his leaves, massaging his scalp and encouraging his head further down.

Leering over the two, Goob’s open maw dripped warm strings of drool down Sprout’s back, watching him attempt to take in more and more of Astro’s monstrous dick, his throat beginning to distend until finally his nose was buried in the twisteds flushed crotch. Held steady, the toon was forced to breathe in nothing but Astro’s sweet murky scent, filling his nose as he struggled to breathe and struggled harder not to start gagging. 

Slowly, his head was pulled off, left panting and slack jawed; cross eyed staring at the looming appendage. ‘Is he… giving me a second–?’ the strawberry wondered wistfully, ribbons of spit trailing down his chin, unable to meet Astro’s gaze.

No, of course not.

Expecting mercy from a twisted wasn’t the main’s brightest idea though, not when their predatory gazes cut deep through fruit-flesh to bone, stirring up his gut to nothing but a mess of needy arousal, clawing inside of his brain to tell him he couldn’t relax, couldn’t trust, couldn’t–

“A-AH– Mmnghh–!”

Slipping out of Sprout’s gaping hole, Goob steadied his leverage on his hips, before slamming back inside without a single yip of warning, ramming his face forward back onto Astro’s dick, slithering deep down inside his unprepared throat for a second time. Being speared from both ends made the berry unimaginably dizzy, his thighs quivering and throat constricting, used as nothing but a fucktoy for the insatiable monsters that ravaged him thoughtlessly. 

Despite trying to hollow his cheeks and lap at Astro’s intruding appendage, with a harsh grip on his chin and the top of his head, he was powerless to stop the twisted main from manhandling his head to a pace as relentless as Goob’s manic thrusting. Sprout’s throat was nothing but another hole to be claimed, a way for the main to get off without having his face rearranged by sharp teeth– yet.. the sensation of utter powerlessness instilled nothing but a burning need for more inside of him, his needy moans vibrating Astro’s dick, facefucked as ribbons of drool trailed down his neck.

“Shit– yeah, yeah.. Keep doing that..”

Astro praised, his echoing grunts mingling with Goob’s erratic painting into a filthy overlay barely covering the wet sounds of spit being fucked from his mouth and slick pouring out of his puffy hole, cruelly forced out to make suitable room for the fluffy craft to dump a load of cum inside of him.

“Perfect, so perfect for us– hahh…”

Howling in agreement, Goob’s grip tightened around the toon’s quivering thighs, holding his hips up to get a better angle to pound his red gaping entrance, an odd warmth beginning to fill his fuzzy stomach and coiling tight like a band about to snap. 

Desperate agonising pleasure filled Sprout’s teary eyes, with claws dug into the soft meat connecting his pelvis to his legs. The pain simply made the pleasure all the more clear, overtaking him as his body was used carelessly. 

The relentless punishing rhythm of Goob’s hips faltered, his thoughts and intentions swallowed by his own primal nature– the toon below him was so weak and willing after all, stretched wide open just for him; ready to be filled.

With a loud, unrelenting howl, Goob’s length pulsed deep inside of Sprout, and the poor toon felt himself being yanked away from Astro grip momentarily, reeled back at the mercy of the fluffy creature's powerful grip. His mouth hung open, tongue lazily hanging between parted lips, dazed and confused.

Goob had sheathed himself as far as he very well could inside of the berries clenching pussy, baying as the coil inside of his stomach burst.

The sensation was indescribable, and just as impossible to grapple with, Sprout’s head thrown back in ecstasy the moment he felt the twisted begin to release inside of him. 

“Ghh– A–Ahnn…”

Such a poor thing he was, moaning so stupidly, thick ribbons of saliva pouring from his outstretched tongue down against Astro’s dick as his eyes rolled straight back into his skull. Spurts of molten cum sloshed deep inside of him, thick and virile as it pumped him impossibly full. Every inch of his velvety insides was tainted white far before Goob was finished, his womb nothing more than a cheap cumdump for his voluminous release, seeping into the deepest corners of his battered taint.

The very base of Goob’s dick began to swell midway through his monstrous load, locking the the two together and sealing everything inside, ensuring Sprout would be well bred like a good mate. His stomach was already so full he was practically pregnant anyway, tears streaming down his trembling cheeks from the sheer fullness of being so properly stuffed, and plugged up to match. 

A single blue hand slipped from the main’s chin, trailing downwards until Astro had a firm grip on his neglected hardness, beginning to steadily pump himself at the sight of Sprout so thoroughly debauched and gripping his legs for dear life. The spectacle was enough to bring him to the brink alone, not to mention how perfect the toon’s mouth had been to get himself off, the same mouth that hung open centimeters above his arousal just begging to be filled.

On account of being stuck together, both Goob and Sprout were yanked forward the moment Astro decided he deserved his fill, the fluffy craft collapsing over Sprout’s back and crushing him flat, pushing his face straight down onto the other twisted's dick straight to the hilt without any warning. His overgrown fur still managed to be soft and enveloping, the warm ticklish sensation further frying the poor berries abused nerve endings. Once more he was stuffed from both ends, unable to pull away, unable to even move.. the notion burned a deep shameful spot in the back of his mind, his overstuffed pussy fluttering on the brink of cumming a second time. 

“Fuck– you can’t imagine how long I’ve waited to do this..”

Astro snarled, throaty and low as he finally let himself go, dumping his own load into Sprout’s mouth. It tasted sweet and glossy, puffing out his cheeks and sliding straight down his throat as more and more shot out of the pent up dick stretching his gaping mouth open. 

“Gghh–!”

Sprout tried to push himself away, the molten pleasure in his stomach reaching a fever pitch with Goob still collapsed panting over his exhausted back, but it was far too late, another orgasm ripped through his body more violent than the last, slick squirting out of him and splattering the poor ruined carpet below their bodies. 

“Be a good boy and swallow it all– slut.”

Lulled by the twisteds words he tried to be good, tried desperately to please, swallowing down the load Astro was giving him… but his own release caught him off guard enough to choke, and in an instant he watched the blue glow of the twisted’s seed squirting back over his dick.. from his nose. In the only stroke of mercy Astro had cared to give him, he hoisted Sprout’s head off his shaft despite Goob’s weight, his eye following the stream of his own jizz pouring out of the main’s mouth and streaming down his nose, accompanying the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“So cock-starved and that’s all you can manage… guess it’s good enough.”

So good, too good, the berry could barely think of anything besides how full and satisfied he was, ravaged to nothingness by creatures he used to think of as his trusted friends. It had been so sudden and so welcome that he yearned to give up his control, first to Rodger, then to them– truly he didn’t think it made any difference who it was any longer, and he wasn’t sure it ever did. Toons were vulnerable and needy when the day was done, raised with control and left yearning for it when they were all alone. Dandy had been overcome with ichor long ago, arguing allergies that he didn’t have when his reddened eyes were brought into question, anything that could clear his name from a speck of the soil it had garnered every year passed that Gardenview’s doors never opened. Rodger was hardly different, perched on tentacles he weaved with precision, ichor swirling in his brain and letting him seize control from that primal needy sense he too once dawned. 

He was fixed. At least that’s what he’d claim.

The seedy smell of their coupling filled the chilly air that had long since floated aimlessly around the abandoned space, introducing newfound warmth to the uninviting cold of the blue walls and purple carpets inside of Astro’s own room. Goob’s knot had yet to soften, and with how aroused he’d been it was difficult to believe it would for a while, clearly content to lay atop Sprout and keep him still, caging in his mate and hogging his body heat. Astro on the other hand tucked himself back inside of his torn blanket, using one hand to haphazardly clear off the toon’s dripping face– truly just smearing his cum around and leaving it at that, and nudged Goob to the side so he had ample room to nestle beside them, two arms weaved under the fluffy twisted’s fur to curl around Sprout, while the others reluctantly curved over Goob himself, earning a pleased snuffle in return. 

Sprout felt settled, if only for a moment he was consumed by peace surrounded by something strong, stronger than himself. The soft pulsing of Astro’s sleepy presence let him drift away, his breathing slowing with a pliable mind soon to be infected with dreams of them together again, until he’d been awoken hot and needy for more, just how he was supposed to be. 

Astro and Goob had played so rough with their poor toy, but it wasn’t like they could be faulted for it– they’d been given permission after all. 

Rodger’s sharp eye watched them all drift off, one by one. Sprout was a third leash to his belt– and a special one no more! Not some pre infected half-rate twisted, a toon, a main, just as easily manipulated into his arms as he was sure any other to travel down would be. The fantasy excited him as far as excitement could spark in a mind consumed by resentment, one of his tentacles slithering from the pool of ichor he laid in to loop around his three darling animals as if to join their hug.

Slowly he extended his hand to place a curt pat to all three of their resting forms, wordlessly bidding them goodnight, with the touch lingering against Sprout. Sure he’d wake up in a daze, sure maybe he’d insist he had to go see his friends… but he didn’t, he never would, not again. Rodger already knew too well how attached the two twisteds would be already, holding him like a ragdoll, bickering like children for their time with him– he’d be a monster to deprive them!.. More of a monster. 

No. No matter who else came, no matter if Dandy tried to meddle, he wouldn’t have more ripped from him, he’d take all that hideous rainbow screw up had and then some. He’d keep Sprout until he knew better, until he screamed and thrashed against another guiding hand not to take him away, away from what he needed. 

It’d be perfect.

Rodger would be sure of it.

Chapter Text

‘Gardenview Educational Center™ is to shut its doors on 6/29 due to recent allegations and a lack of safety regulations…’

Arthur Walton was questioned on the malfunction, but chose to remain silent.

The malfunction.

They couldn’t call it the ichor operation, no— the news always had to be so mysterious about it, ward visitors away before the doors had even shut. 

It wasn’t fair, the handlers, the staff, they’d left so suddenly, locked up the doors and abandoned Gardenview without a word to the toons left behind.

No more guidance, no more help, no more humans.

“Dandy… I’ve done everything I can, but your stunt I can’t cover for. The show is finished… the curtains are closing on the toons.”

Delilah murmured, her voice as hushed and secretive as it was when she’d pull Dandy aside to ask a favour, surrounded by keen toon eyes and grubby children— hushed like they weren’t alone together.

“I’m— I’m sorry, I’m real sorry…”

His voice was so gentle, so meek— oh Dandy, poor Dandy. He wasn’t a star, he was a monster. He’d ruined everything. Delilah had trusted him to hold himself together, keep his secret between them, keep the show running without a hitch.

And he’d cracked.

“I know you’re sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Her hands worked swiftly to pack everything back in its rightful place, the very boxes they’d been packed out of while a little flower full of wonder had sat and kicked his feet on the same table he was now laying on, his face in his hands, his petals closing around them and muffling his sobs. 

“I’m scared.”

He cried, his body wracked with a guilt that swirled in his gut, his voice like glass, glass that cracked at its very edges. The same way he’d cracked, letting something hideous and dark ooze out of his shining smile.

“Hm, well…”

A soft thump resided beside Dandy's head, Delilah’s covered hand pulling one of his from his face to thumb away the tears painted on a melting frown. 

“Someone needs to take care of everyone when we go, right?”

Dandy swallowed a sniffle, his lips quivering,

“Right…”

She smiled, sharp and conniving, wiping his tears as if she’d had no hand in creating them. To Dandy it was as warm and loving as he could envision, a reassurance that he’d be okay.

He didn’t know better, not yet.

“You’re special Dandy, that’s why I entrusted you to keep the project secret.”

The nights of experiments, the needles and vials of coppery black tar, the swirling hunger in his gut that she’d engineered to improve him, all because she assured him he was destined for stardom that never ended.

“You’re afraid of this new part of you, it’s keeping them separated.”

And who was he to deny he was afraid? Dandy trusted her promises, he knew it was for the best; he wanted everyone to adore him forever— but now it felt like he was losing everything he’d ever dreamed of.

“I’m not ready to be a leader, I don’t know what to do…”

Setting his head in her lap, Delilah’s stained glove gently pressed his petals down, her voice vibrating through the rest of her body.

“I’ve taught you everything you need to know, Dandy. Now I’ve given you the tool to take advantage of that knowledge…”

She stroked him through another broken cry before continuing:

“You’re afraid of the hunger you’re feeling, the way it changes you— but you need it to be a leader. You need to let it be part of you.”

Gently, Dandy’s sobs turned to sniffles, until finally his eyes had cleared, and he blinked away the remains of childish terror, pressing his arms against Delilah’s leg to push himself up into sitting— her pants the prettiest rainbow, to match him!

“There we go…”

She hummed, hopping back up to get to packing, leaving items behind she knew Dandy would make use of.

“Wait—”

His hand caught on the edge of her shirt, her head turning to see what exactly it was he wanted now, after she’d given him such a good motivational talk— one that didn’t leave out any important details and certainly wasn’t born from any ill intent! Totally!

“A-Are you sure I can’t tell anybody? Not even Astro…?”

Her smile faltered into a frown, closer to a pout, as if the very notion of him asking had truly hurt her.

“Dandy… leaders have to keep secrets sometimes, okay?”

Reluctantly he nodded, letting go of her shirt and setting his hands back into his lap.

“Okay…”

Her frown corrected itself back into its normal forced grin, stretching from cheek to cheek too wide, too unnaturally, just the same as Dandy’s.

“You make me so proud! Now show me that award winning smile!”

Eyes furled at their very edges to make room for his infectiously joyus smile, Dandy contorted his face into the adorable grin that opened every one of their shows, with some cutesy scripted tagline bouncing out of his mouth to the captivated audiences that gathered to watch him perform. 

That’s right— he was just opening a show, Delilah had promised he’d be a star forever! He couldn’t let her down!!

“I promise I’ll keep everything running, no matter what!”

And between them unspoken words sat in the silence his voice had left,

‘I know you will.’

Yet it didn’t need to be verbalised, they both knew it was true. 

He’d keep everything running, she knew he would, as horrors arose and his jumbled mind filled with the urges to wake sleeping dogs that should have been left to lie.

He had no choice, he’d long since gone beyond the point of no return. 

But that could be their little secret, right?

-

-

-

“Oh— Oh! Glisten— G-Glisten! There, theretherethere!!”

Finn howled, Glisten’s arms caging either side of his head and keeping their gazes locked together, between their sloppy kisses. 

Their tongues twirled together, drool sliding between their mouths in their hungrish fever to continue. 

Finn’s chubby thighs wrapped around Glisten’s back, arching with each lovingly brutal thrust inside of his gooey cunt, filled to the brim with cum that oozed out, begging the mirror to add another load. 

“Mnngh, my cute little Finny…”

Glisten leaned in for another kiss, his grunts and Finn’s cries of ecstasy melting together inside of their mouths, as the toon clenched tight on Glisten’s monstrous dick, an orgasm flooding through his debauched body and squirting all over him, dripping onto the sodden carpet below them.  

They’d become so united, they even came at the same time, the twisted pounding straight into Finn’s poor cervix one last time to release his last load of creamy spunk inside of him for the night— day? They’d lost track without any way to keep the time. 

It flooded into his womb, his tummy bulging from every punishing rope of cum that’d been pumped into him over countless hours of relentless fucking. 

Loads of Glisten’s spent trailed out of both of Finn's holes, bubbling out of his taint the moment he removed his cock from its rightful spot inside of him. It was always the worst part of their escapades to finish, but as they collapsed into a pile of giggles and kisses to their faces to sleep among stuffed toy replicas of their cast— sans any that resembled Dandy, they couldn’t complain.

Glisten was a horrible monster, a domineering freak that pushed against everything Dandy had strived to create. A twisted .

He wouldn’t follow Dandy’s orders, he never listened when Dandy told him not to look for Rodger… he couldn’t risk him finding Rodger– no, then he’d never be adored.

It was sad to toss him out, but really he had no other choice! Glisten’s face had shattered to bits, his wails filling the gift shop as he tore at his very skin in tears.

Unable to return so hideously damaged, he rotted in misery until he was found, letting the ichor claw at his brain until parts of his base instincts had been warped into something unrecognisable. 

Finn had insisted on finding Glisten, wasting hours of Dandy’s time on pointless searches he’d warned him against.

He only let them unite as punishment for the misconduct, depriving him of any worthwhile stock before sending him out; it was supposed to turn out differently. 

He expected Finn to be scared off, chased away back and ready to heed his warnings again– 

But… he’d made a miscalculation. 

Finn wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t in pain. 

All alone, the twisted had come onto him without a second thought, and in turn he’d yielded to Glisten completely. Finn held him starry eyed like he was the only thing he’d ever seen in his life— just the way Dandy craved, the way he’d worked so hard to be seen.

Nothing ever seemed to work no matter what he did. The toons followed him, obeyed his requests, risked their lives to extract ichor for him that he didn’t even need! But they never looked at him that way, the right way, the way he saw those two together every time he jealously watched their escapades from the surveillance footage he streamlined into his pigsty storeroom to keep tabs on runs. 

Naturally… he wrote it off.

A fluke! Glisten isn’t a real twisted, right?? Pshh! That was just a kink in the works– a weird fetish Finn probably had or something! Who even needs them? He’ll be fine! He just needs to chip at the other toons a little more, then they’ll be attached to their beloved leader!

But– maybe another guinea pig wouldn’t hurt.

It was stupid to send anyone down to Rodger, not after he’d disfigured Glisten so horribly to prevent it in the first place.

….yet, some sick part of him just couldn’t resist, he and Sprout weren’t that close anyway, right?

“A-Ahh! Shit– Ah!”

Sprout squirmed, sat down against Astro’s face as he ate him out with reckless abandon. Two of his hands held his legs still while the others prodded at his puffy cunt, oozing with a grey mix of ichor and cum. His spine jolted with bolts of unrefined pleasure every time the moon’s nimble fingers pressed inside a sensitive spongy spot, scooping out handfuls of spent to properly search for the special angles that’d make him wail.

Sprout’s pussy had gotten so much attention already (bred well and good by an enthusiastic– and possessive, Goob, who’d snarled and barked to be the first to fill him), and while their brutal coupling was constant enough for him to sustain a second round no doubt, Astro had decided his ass needed some loving too.

Rodger happily let them share him to their heart's content, glad to have time to rest his bones inside of his undisturbed capsule. The only time he ever got his own turn seemed to be when Astro and Goob would begin to fight over who got a turn next, so they’d be equally disappointed and painfully aroused as punishment for quarreling and waking him without good reason.

Astro’s gooey, prehensile tongue lapped at the insides of Sprout’s ass, melding his guts around the intruding appendage that massaged his inner walls so painfully perfect it was almost torturous– at least when paired with his other ministrations and the fluffy creature latched onto his chest, lapping at his hardening nipples with a warm, flat tongue.

Goob’s tail was going haywire behind him, his dick straining between his thighs and dripping precum from suckling Sprout’s nipples alone, coated in a milky mixture of cum and sweat. His eyes stared upwards adoringly to take in just how blissful Sprout was, the strawberry’s red hands tangling into soft fur to pull him back into his chest.

Again, Sprout yielded– that needy, primal sense played at so perfectly he was as good as a doll to them. They’d scratched an itch Dandy hadn’t reached.

He couldn’t deny it anymore, he couldn't deny the truth that was staring him in the face.

The vulnerability of a toon alone– it… it made twisteds--

“ASTRO– ASTROOO–!!”

Sprout’s crackly voice howled through the poor audio feed Dandy received, his fist slamming down to change his monitoring feed to a different room.

His mind swirled with jealousy, he was their leader, their star, HE deserved to see them like that, he deserved to have Sprout cry his name with that much love, he deserved to have Finn hug him with the same adoring giggle he blessed Glisten with.

Rainbow claws jutted from his pudgy hands, his head thrown back as he snarled, trying to keep his form at bay, ichor pumping through his body as his bones cracked and contorted inside of him. He couldn’t control his own jealousy, he hadn’t lost himself so hideously since– since the malfunction.

Twisting always filled his mind with vile things, things he could never control. They ran rampant inside of him, the thought of holding Finn and Sprout under his claws, taking them for himself, taking advantage of their gooey compliance to convince them into adoring him, stomping the other twisteds into mush and proving himself the strongest until–

In an instant, his body shrunk back into its normal size, the irritated redness fading from large, conniving eyes, narrowed under the force of his straining smile.

It was a stupid idea, he was in over his head surely– but he couldn’t resist the thrill of the thought that he might have found an opening.

A way to worm everyone under his thumb, exactly where they should be.

The twisteds could have their toons– temporarily of course! And the toons could let go of their silly worries, he’d be fixing them!

He’d have to aim small to begin– test the waters, isolate and remove toons that nobody would think to worry about until it was too late…he’d already aimed too high with Sprout, he needed to keep the spotlight away from himself for a little, god forbid his tower came crumbling before he could truly begin.

The flower giggled to himself in the dim storage room lights, his stomach filled with a fluttering excitement. He was going to save everybody, he was going to save himself…

He just needed to be smart about how.

Chapter Text

Through the crackling audio of an old television, an episode of Dandy’s World glowed in the darkness of the cold, still elevator. A thrashing, screaming Shrimpo snarled tight in the winding grip of Goob’s arms, his howls peaking the poor built in speakers as he resisted against apologising to Astro, before finally forcing out a very strained:

“Sorry. I GUESS!”

The camera quality couldn’t pick up the vibrancy of the scenery, set outside in the shade of some large, cartoony trees. Kids didn’t care, so the handlers didn’t either, never advocating for a better camera that didn’t make the toons look like they’d been poorly pasted on a realistic backdrop, like some botched editing job nobody had bothered to fix in post. 

Dandy stepped into frame, and everything around froze— his wide infectious smile filling the shot with an undeniable light, rainbow petals glittering bright like his existence alone was enough to cut through the poor quality.

 The shining star of the show. 

“Remember kids, disagreements happen!”

He started, holding up a finger.

“But bullying is wrong! So let’s all get along— because remember!”

The camera panned closer to his face, pointing his finger forward with a wink.

“Dandy loves yoo-Ou-u-U—”

Reduced to a mess of stuttering pixels, the scene cut through Dandy’s closing line, his grinning face and the Gardenview logo morphing together in an approximation of something that would have given a child nightmares long enough to develop insomnia, before shutting off completely. 

The television spat the finished tape out of its player, its damaged bitterness rejected straight onto the elevator floor where it cracked open, rolls of film spilling out. Drips of ichor splattered out of the unravelled tape, clearly the source of its unceremonious glitching, just another damaged good to add to the pile— god, he’d been running out lately.

Dandy always watched the old shows to give him a little pep in his step when things weren’t at their finest.

They kept him stable, at least he liked to think so. 

Regardless, he was feeling elated enough already! (Elated enough to toss the tape down into his storeroom to worry about later, at least) He had a plan, a great plan! Seeing the old show really did bring back memories, and soon those memories would all come back, his spark shining bright like it had never dulled to begin with.

There was only so much reminiscing to be done with faulty tapes and glitching videos anyway, stalling the inevitable means to an end he had in store. He’d wasted enough time, he needed to get to work before the toons thought he’d gone missing—

He bet they would have liked that… but soon they would dread it! He just had to keep it together until then, smashing his arm into the elevator door to ram his claws back inside of his hands, and clunking the heavy hunk of metal open to bounce into the lobby with his signature smile. 

It was only evening in Gardenview, but most toons didn’t like to be out too late. His first box to tick was finding someone to isolate, but he wasn’t sure who…

They had to be a test run, a way to test the waters… considering a misstep wasn't viable when statistically he wasn’t exactly the most beloved toon— YET! If he could find another name to muddy, his margin of error would drastically improve, but in its absence he had to play it safe.

Just for a little, he had to keep everything in . 

The rainbow flower bounced around the dimly lit lobby, peering into the grassy patch that the elevators surrounded, coated in faux snow for the recently passed holiday season. Tisha had done her best to get to cleaning it, but she’d become so overworked lately it wasn’t viable to get it all done so soon. 

Dandy had intended to call a meeting about splitting responsibilities, but Christmas had turned out to be a bit of a disaster. 

He wanted to switch things up a little, under the scrutiny of toons complaining it was all too similar every year, but the Christmas toons weren’t so thrilled to have their schedules thrown off, and he’d ended up breaking down in the middle of their annual Christmas play— breaking a few lights, props… the stage, nothing major! 

A flash of orange resounded behind the large pine tree they hadn’t switched out yet, as vibrant as a hazard sign, or a poisonous lizard. 

Shrimpo. 

Turning the cogs in his mind, Dandy trotted up the stairs with his hands neatly behind his back– Shrimpo was the perfect test dummy, loud and obnoxious, uninviting and mean. The toons would notice his presence gone, but he was so rebellious any old story would make do to explain his disappearance. Before he could reach out and touch the shrimp, however, he whipped his head around, snarling a curt yet loud,

“FUCK OFF.”

Jeez, okay. 

“Hey… c’mon Shrimpo, it’s okay…”

A second voice vibrated beside him, a large blue paw slinging around his clenched shoulders to pat his tensing back, remaining despite how he snapped his teeth like he wanted to tear their arm off; undeniably belonging to Gardenview’s very own fluffy craft. 

So Goob was with him…

“Hey Dandy, I’m sorry about that…”

Goob poked his head around the tree, beckoning the flower over with the paw slung around Shrimpo. 

Sweet, loving Goob. He could never hate Dandy, he never hated anyone, that’s what made him such a difficult target… all the toons would notice if Goob was missing, what would they do without the loveable scruffy face and the adorable droopy ears of their very own puppy dog boy after all? It wasn't surprising he was sitting with Shrimpo— a pain in the ass sure, but not surprising. The part that was confusing Dandy was how well the shrimp was tolerating it. 

“It’s fine, friend!”

Dropping to his behind on the crunchy dead grass underneath fake chemical snow, Dandy’s confusion was masked with the absent smile of his daydreaming. It was hard not to let his mind wander with the filth of his soon-to-be escapades, the ideas of who victim number one would be. Shrimpo was a good option, but—

“Yeah, Shrimpo’s been in a pretty sour…er mood after the F-I-N-N incident…”

The fluffy craft leaned closer to whisper his spelled out name to Dandy, like Shrimpo couldn’t hear. Astonishingly enough all he seemed to do in response was avoid eye contact, his hands balled to fists in his lap with lips fixed into a permanent scowl, his antennas drooping to finish off the whole ‘out of character’ package for the shrimp toon.

“He’s just missing his… friend , a lot—”

Friend.

Said with such uncertainty… it sent Shrimpo into a rage, yelling out in frustration and jumping to his feet, throwing Goob’s arm away from his shoulder to scream at the both of them.

“AUUUGHH!! YOU DONT GET IT!”

He howled in anger, turning on his heel and running off back in the direction of the toon rooms, but not before turning and screaming again.

“AND— AND YOU LOOK EXTRA SHITTY TODAY DANDY, FUCK YOU!”

The fluffy craft sighed in defeat, unsurprised, but disappointed nonetheless.

“Awh crud… sorry again Dandy, I’ll catch you later!”

Goob waved goodbye as he too jumped up in pursuit of the walking time bomb that’d probably end up destroying another wall if he wasn’t trapped in a hug soon, leaving Dandy alone… almost alone.

In his selfish flurry of rage, Shrimpo had been in such a rush to leave he’d simply walked through any obstacles in his way, intersecting with a certain reindeer making his way out of his room. He’d been harshly shoved to the side, buckling his knees and sending him straight down on his butt, embarrassingly sitting wholly stunned that he’d been pushed over without a single word of warning first.

It was the first time Dandy had seen Rudie out of his room in a while come to think of it– the Christmas disaster had left him pretty deflated, and nobody thought he’d be up and about for a while longer. Eventually they’d stopped checking altogether.

Sprout was on food duty for the toons that holed up in their rooms, in his absence Rudie must have grown hungry enough to leave, his nose glowing red in the soft dimness of the evening light. 

“Hey– you okay buddy?”

Dandy called out from his spot underneath the tree, following Goob and Shrimpo in getting up to approach the shellshocked reindeer, fur still raised in alarm.

“M-Me? Oh.. Oh! Yeah, yeah I’m fine… just got a fright, haha!”

Rudie hopped up before Dandy could offer him a hand, dusting himself off like he was wearing any clothes, or had any dust on him for that matter, his tone devoid of the glittering cheer he always liked to keep all year long. He’d really become quite… sad, hadn’t he? Christmas was his favourite day of the year, the one he pretended was happening every day just to build up to when it finally would be– and it had been ruined. 

“Are you off to the kitchen? I could come with if you like! Nobody else is out right now I don’t think, but there’s definitely some food for you– I’d just hate for you to eat the wrong thing and have a toon all… mad at’cha!”

Dandy rambled on, his words flying around Rudie too fast for him to truly grasp before the flower had grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the communal kitchen. He didn’t often– or ever, take no for an answer, but as long as he could play it off as being the cute fretting little flower rushing to keep everything in tip top shape, he still had the cards to play down those little… flaws.

The walk wasn’t long, the dimly lit halls guiding them straight to a deathly empty kitchen space, one Dandy didn’t often enter himself. He’d been banned altogether for a while after a teensy meltdown and a miniscule hot baking tray being thrown at Sprout’s head incident, nothing major!

It’d been a pain to play off, but Sprout always did have a little temper at times, it wasn’t so hard to plant doubt in his wild recollection of the events– a little harder to make the berry himself doubt his own memory, but the flower always did have a way with his words!

“Sooo, what’s catching your eye? We’ve got– uhh..”

Rudie awkwardly perched on one of the kitchen counters while Dandy rummaged through the fridge for food, wittering on senselessly.

Jeez, who kept putting cookies in the fridge? That didn’t seem right…

“Oh! We have carrots I think!”

Perfect! Something reindeer proof. He secured his pudgy fingers around one of the slightly old looking vegetables and tossed it towards Rudie, presuming he’d caught it in his hooves from the lack of carrot-smashing-on-the-floor sounds he was pretty sure he was hearing. The quiet munching was a good sign too!

Rudie avoided eye contact for the most part, his shoulders tensed yet shrinking into themselves with his back hooves firmly planted against the kitchen cabinet to stop himself from moving anymore than necessary. The lack of holiday cheer had really kept him low, it was a horrible sight to see– but one that felt eerily perfect.

Think about it! He’d barely been spotted out of his room for a while, Sprout was on meal duty, and he didn’t seem to have much fight left in him, Dandy’s handy dandy pick me up plan was perfect! Surely Shrimpo and Goob had been too distracted to notice him, and if– say… a little flower was to be delivering his meals, who would even notice he was gone? 

He just needed to figure out how to convince him…

“Say– Rudie?”

He started, earning a curious hum from the reindeer with a mouthful of chewed up food.

“I was thinking about hosting a second Christmas! I know it’s been getting you down that it wasn’t great this year… and I’d like to do something nice for you!”

Something nice indeed.

Undoubtedly Rudie’s ears perked up at the idea, how could they not? It was like a buzzword to him, christmas, christmas! He swallowed his food just to grin dreamily at the thought.

“Really–? Oh golly, we’ve gotta tell everyone then!”

Dandy tutted in response,

“Oh no no… it should be a surprise, don’t you think? Everyone would be so excited!”

Oh gosh, he could almost see it! The holiday cheer, everyone together, exchanging gifts on a chilly evening all huddled close around a fire!

“You’re right! W-Where do we begin??”

Dandy clasped his hands together with an award winning smile. He’d gotten Rudie’s attention, he just had to seal the deal…

“Well, we should start planning right away! Figure out how to include everyone and–”

He pretended to pause in thought, like something had crossed his mind, like he hadn’t already planned every faux promise in his mind far before they’d spilled from his lips.

“Wait… some of us are still missing… how on earth can we have Christmas without all the toons?”

Come on– he’d taken the bait already, surely he could reel in his catch…

“W-Well… Maybe one more search couldn’t hurt…?”

Bingo!

“I mean, you’ll be able to look out for me, right…? If it means we can enjoy another Christmas together… I’ll do my darndest!”

The rainbow flower clapped his hands together in glee, bouncing on the spot. He must have looked simply elated! So very ready for another Christmas, for everyone to be together again!

At least, that’s all Rudie needed to know.

“Let’s go right now!! The sooner we search the sooner we can plan! I’ll make sure you’re safe!”

Shrimpo wasn’t an easy target just yet, Dandy couldn’t risk Goob’s fretting– as soon as Goob was distressed, everyone was distressed, and those two were attached at the hip as long as Shrimpo was in need– or as long as Goob didn’t have anything else to be distracted by…

The moment Rudie bounced from foot to foot inside of the Gardenview elevator, his fate was as sealed as it could very well get. It wasn’t ideal, but oh well! It was Dandy’s safest beginning bet, and he would certainly ensure Rudie never lost that giddy smile again! He just had to tell a little white lie or two first…

-

-

-

The trip down was far longer than any supply trip before, Dandy knew that well, and he knew Rudie would too if he didn’t fill the empty space with some noise. 

It was senseless rambling, his brain’s desperate attempt to hold up a lie and cover his building excitement under the pretense of being in somewhat of a holiday spirit— but Rudie, good as he always was, followed along without a hitch. 

“And— oh! We’re here already!”

The elevator grinded to a halt on a deep dark floor, one Dandy often didn’t let any toons down into. The highest and lowest floors always had the least twisteds, the highest only inhabited a maximum of two, possibly three… but the lowest? You’d be lucky to find one, it was just his luck he knew floor from floor.

Machines were old and rusty, difficult to complete, many impossible to fill entirely— there was no chance the elevator doors would open for Rudie before Dandy wanted them to, though that was a safety measure for some of the toons a little more prone to… fighting.

“Ahh— well, I’ll be back soon! Then we can keep talking!”

Rudie tried to sound strong, and how adorable it was. 

He was a toon, there was a reason toons had never gone down alone before the missing three, there was nothing scarier to them than being alone— truly alone. Knowing no matter what you did, no matter where you turned, nobody would be there to help you, nobody would be there to love you.

“Haha! You know it! Now—”

Dandy ducked underneath the table of his shop, returning back holding a glass bottle in one of his chubby hands, chucking it towards Rudie: a smoke bomb.

“Here! In case you need it, free of charge!”

He winked, before pulling his shop’s lever to descend back into the elevator shafts, just as the doors clunked open to reveal a dark warehouse Rudie had grown familiar with. 

The reindeer wouldn’t need it, but he didn’t have to know that! All he had to know was that Dandy always had his back. 

“Oh— oh! T-Thank you!”

He called out, so preoccupied with not dropping a glass bottle with no opposable thumbs he’d missed Dandy leaving entirely, calling out gratitude to nothing at all and jumping out of the elevator before the doors locked him inside.

Out, alone. It finally sunk in that he was alone.

But—! It wasn’t so bad! He just had to complete some machines, look around, hop back in the elevator, and then his company would be back again. If he gave up, he’d be ruining Christmas, he wasn’t sure if he could handle ruining Christmas…

The first machine was tucked away in a room right beside him, best to be left until last surely…yet, his nerves weren’t giving him the reprieve to make that conscious choice. Normally they’d decide stuff like that as a group, scatter out to finish the furthest machines and ensure everyone was ready to pile into the elevator before it closed in and trapped them on the floor forever, but those calls were always made by one of the level headed toons– Sprout or Rodger, sometimes even Vee, not him. To him, working as he saw machines seemed like a great idea, and with a little difficulty, he pried the valve free from its gratuitous rust and began working the ichor into the tube.   

Boring…

SO!! Boring.

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Years?

What did it matter! It was BORING.

Floating was cool, until there was nobody to show, phasing through things was cool, until there was nobody to show!

And there hadn’t been anyone to show in a long, loooong time.

Connie didn’t like being twisted, at least, she didn’t really care for it– and to her, there wasn’t much difference. If it wasn’t entertaining, it was bad, and realistically the numbing boredom drove her crazier than the ichor ever could. 

CLUNK!!

Wait..

The elevator doors had opened…!

SCREECH!!

Someone was doing a machine!

Straightening her visor and the collar of her stained white shirt, a grin spread across her face, lazily floating towards the interrupting sounds in hopes of finding someone, anyone. 

Languidly her body pushed through wall after wall, peeking around a corner to see who was there. The soft glow of Rudie’s nose was undeniable in the shadows of his hidden little corner, his chestnut fur garnering filth every hasty turn he made to the machine’s valve, sending dust and grime flying everywhere over his front.

A vial of swirling purple sat neatly next to one of his hooves, almost as alluring as he was—

Wait.

Why did he look so pretty when he was alone? 

The idea of a few toons disgusted her, filling up her space begging to be clawed at until their guts were melting out of gashes in their abdomen— but one? Just Rudie? The ghost couldn’t find herself minding so much, in fact, she wanted to see more.

“Oooo…”

Her chilly breath fanned over the back of Rudie’s neck, his fur standing on end as he whipped around, 

“W-Who’s there…??”

He stepped back into the machine, eyes darting around to find what lurked in the dark, taking his eyes off the glass bottle on the floor. 

Naturally Connie capitalised, a flash of blue fanning near Rudie’s eyes, before his precious salvation was gone, secured firmly in her grasp and hurled at the floor with just as little care, thick purple smog filling his vision.

“Ah— oh god!”

Afraid of being attacked, the reindeer extended his hooves in front of his face, ready for some snarling clawing beast to lunge at him from the darkness, lustful for a chunk of his fuzzy jugular. He wasn’t ready to feel arms slithering around his shoulders, wiry hair draping over his raised shoulders, Connie’s grinning lips extending a tongue that gave a chilling lap straight to the side of his cheek, accompanied by a tokenistic sing-song:

“Boo…~”

Admittedly Rudie howled in terror, bolting through the smog aimlessly. He didn’t care where he went, where he ended up, he just really— really wasn’t looking to die just yet!

Connie didn’t expect anything less, the thrill of the chase filling her with foreign excitement. She hadn’t stretched her weary bones in so long and she had to admit she was growing flushed at how enticing his fear was, floating along behind him, cutting through obstacles all to catch glimpses of his cowering form in their cruel game of cat and mouse.

Oh god oh god!! Running from a twisted was one thing, but a twisted ghost? Rudie only had so long to stall, Connie’s giggles filling his ears as she pushed her body through walls to dawn ever closer to the panicked reindeer despite how slow she truly was. Rudie’s panic was adorable, it was delicious, but more than that it stirred something deep in her gut that she wasn’t all too familiar with, something she’d never experienced before the ichor had filled her system and thrown her senses off balance.

“Gotchuu!”

She whispered, her hand making contact with his back and shoving him straight to the floor, head spinning and bones aching from the adrenaline and fear pumping through him. 

“Uuurghhh…”

Rudie groaned, peacefully yet fearfully numb. His death must have been hurtling towards him, yet there was nothing he could do, his arms down by his sides while his knees were bent, half of his body protruding higher than the rest…his back half, fluffy tufts of gratuitous chest fur smooshed into the cold uninviting floor of the middle of the warehouse. 

“Teeheehee…”

Hovering over his body, Connie couldn’t help but notice the way she’d pushed the poor dazed toon, her light glow highlighting every hidden crevice of his exposed body beneath layers of soft fur. It roused at the scratching in her stomach, her hands instinctively reaching forward to meld into his fluffy behind, beginning to fondle him without thinking.

Rudie’s shoulders tensed in alarm, whipping his head around to look at her,
“Hey– Hey! What are you…? D-Doing…”

He trailed off aimlessly, the intensity of her gaze burning holes into him. So hungry, so sure, she was grabbing at his fur with glazed over eyes swirling with nothing but a burning desire that made his knees feel even weaker, and his tummy flutter with butterflies. 

She wasn’t killing him at least…?

It wasn’t like he’d never had an interest in Connie either! It’d been a frequent point of teasing for a long time, that he was so enamoured with Christmas he’d even fallen in love with a spirit, stupid things like that, things he always played off with a smile, but things that rushed through his head as soon as he was being felt up by a twisted.

Suddenly, it stopped.

He expected her to say something, anything, but… silence. The feeling of her body above his never faded, she was still there, he could see she was there– she just… wasn’t moving.

“Y-You can um… keep– going…?”

Tilting his head forward and closing his eyes, cursing himself for his own weakness, Rudie held his submissive position in hopes she’d get the message. Twisteds weren’t exactly known for their intimacy, and he wasn’t even truly sure she had any intentions of leaving him alive to begin with, let alone that she meant to arouse him!

But– something inside of him clung onto the possibility, like he was the same frightened toon crying not to be carted off away from everyone when the holidays were over, terrified to be left without company…

It wasn’t something he could control, an instinct.

“So cuuute…”

The drawling voice resounded above his crumpled body, her hands raking the fur on his back like she was petting him, fingertips pressing against his supple skin beneath layers of fluff without dipping inside just yet, holding back for the very right moment.

Rudie keened at the praise, relaxing his muscles and letting her do whatever she pleased in a desperate hope she’d fulfil his needs without even knowing what they were, shuddering in delight the moment her hands settled on his ass again, kneading it curiously.

“D’you like that?”

Connie wasn’t completely sure why she felt the urge to tease him, nor why his responding whimpers snapped at the cords of restraint in her chest. Twisteds were supposed to lust for suffering and pain, all she lusted for was his body beneath her– his…

Beneath her shirt, below her ghostly torso, her dick had unsheathed itself, non-existent veins pumping with arousal. 

She lusted for his insides around her, his adoring howls of pleasure, to fill his desires intertwined within the very nature of being a toon. 

“Yeees…”

Rudie sighed, nothing but ease resounding in his hazy mind when Connie slotted her impressive length in the curve of his ass, pressing down in all the right spots for his own leaking hardness to strain against his stomach, stimulated by his own fur.

Connie’s hands slipped from his ass to knead his stomach in search of his dick, nimble fingertips pulling and prodding to smear his precum in order to heighten the stimulation of her wandering touch, hot heavy pleasure coursing in his stomach and coating his guts in hopes she’d churn them up– yet, she seemed more interested in him first.

“So needy…”

She noted, the sensation of his hips pressing back against her tearing at her miniscule good will to prepare him first, hands tightening around his length to yank at it feverishly, milking oozing pleasure out of his dripping tip as he panted in ecstasy struggling to form words.

“Oh– Ohhhgoshh…!”

It was so unfamiliar, the warmth tightening in his stomach, coiling and winding through his veins choking cries out of his throat. He’d never felt so good before, not even in his fantasies that Connie might reciprocate his burning adoration did he ever feel so unrelentingly pleasured, her hands wringing an orgasm out of him without a hitch.

The ghostly toon held her hand over his tip as pathetically desperate ropes of cum spurted out of him, his knees buckling and tearing him away from her grinding, smearing the jizz she couldn’t catch all over his fluffy tummy– so filthy, but so satisfied.

“Awwww….”

Her voice was a breathy snicker, lowering her body to press her sodden hand between the swell of his ass, two of her fingers finding his entrance to slip one inside, the other following quickly after to scissor him open. The wet squelch of his own arousal being his only lubrication was as humiliating as it was painfully hot. 

“Shouldn’t you be scaaaared? I could kill you right noww…”
And as teasingingly as the twisted ghost cooed, there was an astute curiosity to her words, like she truly expected a clear answer while she was fingering the asshole of a toon she was relatively sure it was her job to be going to town on in a different way.

“I–I’m… terriFI–iii–ed– mnghh! I just–” 

Rudie’s voice died in his throat the moment Connie’s fingers found his prostate, a third finger slipping inside to massage it cruelly. His own spent made his guts so slippery every little touch jolted straight against his sweet spots regardless, the burn of being stretched nothing compared to how uncomfortably good it felt, and how good it’d feel when the ghost finally fucked him.
“I want you, I w-Aant this! I– I don’t know why!”

And despite how he cried out like his words were supposed to please her, his pitch peaking on the edge of another orgasm, it was true– they knew it was true.

It was mutual, after all.

“Yeah– shit…”

The moment she retracted her hand he tightened up again, drips of cum oozing out of his hole from her ministrations… the same way she wanted her own to ooze out, her dick straining against her stomach at the thought, slotting so perfectly between his asscheeks for the second time.

“I want you too..”

And with two hands holding his cheeks open, exposing his drooling entrance to her, Connie pressed the blunt tip of her cock against his hole, slowly but surely slipping inside.

Rudie’s eyes rolled deep into the back of his head, his ass stretched obscenely wide to accommodate her, hard and heavy unlike her nimble fingers that worked around his velvety hot walls. His body caved for her this time, forced apart at the mercy of her body strengthened by ichor, guts melding to the shape of her dick so deliciously he prayed he’d never forget the feeling. 

Connie reared her hips back, her length slipping out until only the tip was left inside, before she pressed herself back inside again, seconds away from making Rudie cry out a disappointed whine from the suffocating emptiness, walls clenching around nothing where something now belonged, where his body and mind cried for something to belong until eternity had grown old. 

Her thrusts were slow yet heavy, grinding every sensitive spot and melting the poor toon beneath her into a puddle of groans and breathless moans, her hands finding purchase on his back while his splayed in front of him like a desperate animal needy for more. 

Rudie’s tightness sucked her straight back in the moment she pulled back, gripping her like a vice in a successful attempt to stir an impending orgasm in her hollow gut while she staked her claim in his. 

Her fingers tangled into his fur as she threw her head back, pumping her hips in rhythm.

“Shit– Shit… mine, minemine–!”

Words detached from rational thought, dick buried so deep inside of Rudie she’d began to bulge his poor jizz covered tummy, Connie’s grip on his fluff tightened so harshly the reindeer would have worried she was about to tear it out if he had enough airtime to consider it, her fingers slowly slipping through his fur and underneath his skin, more translucent than the rest of her body. 

The mind numbing sparking pleasure that coursed through his veins filled her senses, as her own ecstasy filled his, their bodies connecting into one for an instant, enough of an instant for them to be pushed so far over the edge it was impossible to fathom anything but each other.

Christmas be damned, searching be damned, Rudie didn’t crave excitement nor pleasure any longer, he craved Connie. He needed her over him, inside of him, claiming him until he couldn’t remember his own name! 

The thoughts that filled his head swirled inside of hers until her ghostly fingertips no longer dipped beneath his skin, her body wracked with an uninterrupted orgasm that pulsed inside of the reindeer, filling him to the brim with ropes of blue translucent spunk. It was hot and heavy inside of his quivering hole, clenching tight around her as his own second orgasm splattered beneath him. 

Finally spent, Connie collapsed atop the toon, crushing him beneath her surprisingly heavy body (at least when she wanted to be touchable).

She refused to move, unwilling to lose the sensation of Rudie clenching tight around her. It was exhilarating, creamy cum oozing out of his gaping entrance plugged up by her softening cock. What was the point of pulling out anyway? She barely felt tired! Surely her dick would stir again soon, and Rudie didn’t seem to mind, his tongue flopping out of a dazed grin painted upon tear streaked cheeks. 

His goals felt so far away from him, every previous thought and fantasy filled with an eagerness to please that he’d never experienced before. It should have felt strange, affronting, scary even, but it simply felt comfortable and warm as the ghost remained inside of him, like the most natural sensation to ever grace him.

Rudie laid below her imposing figure without movement, his breathing slow, exhaustion washing over him in waves.

Would it be so bad if he fell asleep? Connie could wake him up anyway! He’d do whatever she wanted..

That felt far more important than silly fantasies of finding missing toons, it felt right, like he’d never dreamed of anything beyond it.

Connie stroked him to sleep with one hand, the one that hadn’t been coated in his semen… how sweet he was, her cute little reindeer, her adorable little toon! Oh, she just wanted to keep him forever and ever! She would keep him forever and ever. Nothing else mattered, she suddenly wasn’t all too sure why anything else would matter, besides maybe her building tiredness.

…Perhaps round two could wait a little. 

-

-

-

The audio feed went quiet. They’d probably both fallen asleep…

Huh! What a show, Dandy deserved a pat on the back for his handiwork ! In more ways than one…

Smearing his left hand on his tattered overalls, he lamented the fact he was covering them in filth, but knew in himself he was due a new pair sometime soon, the logo imprinted in the shape of his face having long since faded into sad muted tones of the vibrant rainbow colors they once were. Besides! He’d… started to strain them a little, stuck living off his own storeroom candies for the months he was banned from the gardenview kitchen. 

He flicked his camera feed back to the gardenview lobby, the morning activity springing the place back to life without him, off without a hitch despite Rudie’s disappearance, just as planned. 

His gaze followed the remaining toons, so many scattered yet unified, some in little groups, some off completely alone, all ripe for taking; just begging to be sacrificed. 

Idly he wondered just who would be next…

Chapter Text

Morning in Gardenview was nothing to gawk at. There weren’t performances to plan, interviews to be hosted, between cooking and cleaning the days melted into idle chatter retired into early nights, for there was nothing interesting enough in the days to make the nights worth waking for.

With a tray of food balanced in one of her palms, Ginger steadily made her way through the large hallways connected to the rooms each toon resided in, made to be bustling with children ecstatic to meet their favourite toon from the television, yet left cavernous and empty, the architecture paved without mind towards how it’d be when it wasn’t packed full of life. 

She hummed gently to herself, only a few filled plates left to drop off. It wasn’t much of a wonder why Sprout had been left to the job of delivering meals to reclusive toons. Ginger wasn’t finding the task too troubling at first, but from everything she’d heard from Cosmo she knew Sprout was the type to sit with someone and pinch their nose while cramming spoonfuls of food in their mouth if he had to, his concern and overprotectiveness merging into a stomach of steel when it came down to the wire. 

Her meekness wasn’t doing her any favors in that regard. She’d had something thrown at her, a few outright refusals to eat, and some toons that didn’t seem to want to get out of their beds to begin with. Goob had offered to take Shrimpo a new portion after he’d fed his straight to the floor, but his noodly arms weren’t steady enough to hold it.

Safe to say, the Christmas cookie was relieved to be in the final stages of her morning’s work.

“Friend!” Dandy’s cheerful leer rang out behind her, full of too much energy for her current state, “How are ya holding up?”

Ginger sighed, averting her eye towards the remaining plates, then to Dandy, who’d begun to bounce in time with her gentle footsteps, “Fine… a little tired if I’m being honest, but fine…”


The flower nodded knowingly, his face etched in feigned concern like he wasn’t already aware she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Sprout put up fronts when he took on unmanageable tasks, holding trays piled high with plates that always found their way to being empty by the end of the morning, but he was– as many of the mains had adapted to be, a liar.

And if it was enough to exhaust Sprout, poor little Ginger never stood a chance.

Nonetheless Dandy pushed like he hadn’t a clue, “Tired? Why’s that?” He murmured, “There weren’t many deliveries to make today, were there?”

“No..” Ginger admitted, making a sharp turn towards the mains’ rooms, “But some were…difficult. I’d prefer to just get this done quickly…”

The waver in her voice indicated unease, but that wasn’t surprising. Very few felt at ease around Dandy, and those who did tended to be the same toons that’d consider Shrimpo to be a viable friend. Foolishly trusting, starry eyed, whatever lens Dandy looked through the outcome was still undeniably grim. 

“Difficult you say? Well that’s no good!” Taking advantage of her vicarious balancing, Dandy snatched the tray up into his own hands, tutting oppressively the second she opened her mouth to object, “Here! Let lil ol’ Dandy do it for ya!”

“A-Ah…! I just– I wanted to check on Rudie is all, he really hasn’t been out in a while and I’m… worried.” The cookie admitted, pursing her lips. “I don’t want him to think we don’t care…”

“Oh Ginger, you’re such a worrywort! He’ll come out to see us when he’s ready!” Dandy waved off her feelings carelessly, wearing his iconic smile to seal the deal. That’s all it was, Dandicus up to his usual antics! No reason to suspect anything afoot, no reason to contest his words.

There was more to say, but it caught in her throat– Ginger's words always caught in her throat at the worst of times. Dandy had a point, Rudie loved his friends, he’d visit them when he felt alright. She was sure of that, but part of her couldn’t help but worry. What if he was sick? Injured? What if all the alone time had made him start considering bad things? Finn had been enough of a wreck when he was out of sorts, he’d gotten so bad she’d seen things that flashed in her mind and tore her heart to shreds every instant it plagued her, rotting in bed with heavy eyes and a body covered in marks, vomit staining his pale skin. 

He’d returned with a miracle recovery, but she knew to an extent it was an act. She knew he only started appearing more after a visit from Shrimpo, at least. To her those facts were intertwined.

“O-Okay…um— good luck then..” Nonetheless she softly tottered off back the way she’d came, her shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no arguing with Dandy, he wouldn’t hear her out if she was the last toon on earth if he’d ruled against her word, it was not a force she felt able to contest.

Something about Dandy seemed more off than usual, but Ginger knew it was in his nature to be pushy, especially when he was stressed. The disappearances must have been weighing on him… missing a main was no little accident, it threw off an entire coordinated aspect of their somewhat harmonious system. The biggest disruption was usually the flower himself, she couldn’t exactly see him coping well picking up more slack.

Yet there he was, bouncing away, tray in hand, like nothing else in the world mattered.

Dandy took in the spread left for eating, suddenly painfully aware of the hunger bubbling in his gut. He’d eaten a little chocolate in the morning, but his bigger frame carried an admittedly bigger appetite, and for a short moment he was considering if he should make a snack out of the meal left for Rudie. He could stomach raw oats and crystalized sugar, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

…Maybe he could bag it for later.

The last meal excluding Rudie’s was bland to say the least. It made bread and butter seem like a culinary masterpiece, but it was supposed to be that way, as it was clearly made with Astro in mind. Astro always did have a sensitive palate when it came to his eating, and he rarely ate meals in shared space. He didn’t like the attention of eating something different, but he never could bring himself to stomach the shared dishes. 

Dandy intended to swoop in and steal Ginger’s duty from her just before she made her merry way into Rudie’s completely empty room, but he’d noted the choice of food on his way over. It was difficult to resist, and by the time he’d stolen her tray it was far too late to turn back.

Three quaint rasps on a dark blue door, and a voice called out, quiet and calm.

“Just a moment, I’m coming…”

The door creaked open, flashes of blue and purple greeting Dandy, a tired eye catching his frame in knowing surprise. 

“Ah… Dandy, it’s you.” He murmured, opening the door a little wider to beckon him inside, yet leaving it open after he’d stepped inside. An act of thoughtless caution, “I didn’t think you were next on the roster for deliveries…”

Astro’s personal room was not unlike his space in the Gardenview facility. Higher consideration had been put into his comfort as it had been for all of the mains, at least when compared to toons that were far less popular. Dandy had made efforts to even out the unfairness left by the toon handlers and general staff, but the stagnant truth lingered regardless that Astro was always destined to have better than they did. He was a favoured toon by the humans… and a favoured toon by Dandy. 

It had started small initially, little benefits. A discount here, a free item there. Maybe he should have stopped sooner, stopped himself before he started wrenching items out of abandoned floors to give as gifts. The number of twisteds he’d squished just to find an unbroken replica of the solar system diagram that resided in Astro’s many rooms wasn’t one he liked to dwell on. He’d always wanted to see Astro as his causal best friend, resenting the way they’d grown apart after Gardenview closed— but the way he saw Astro wasn’t casual.

The way the trichomes on his leaflike antenna fluffed up the moment Astro’s fingers graced his as his food was handed towards him wasn’t casual. The way his infected heart thumped in his chest wasn’t casual.

“Oh— no, no! I’m not.” Dandy chuckled, his eyes following Astro’s graceful figure setting the plate down on the table beside his bed. His blanket flowed in waves behind him, the furry trim dragging across the floor, secured over his neck with a pin molded in the shape of the stars he used to monitor dreams. 

His clothes had endured a significant upgrade after Dandy had taken over, a team effort from Glisten and Shelly to pin up the perfect gift at his request. It accentuated his beauty, in Dandy’s words (though initially he’d tried not to dwell on the implications of that statement). 

“Ginger was struggling a little with the work! Sooo, I thought— why not help her?” The flower beamed, “Cosmo didn’t feel too comfortable doing it since– y’know, it was Sprout's job!”

“Ah, I see.” Astro hummed studiedly, reaching a single premeditated hand forward to pull the straps of Dandy’s overalls up, the crinkles straightening to display the faded logo on the front. He’d scrubbed the white stains off one of the legs, but they were still as worn as they had been for longer than he wanted to admit, his own stubborn grip on the past stopping him from letting them go the way of the dodo and replacing them with a spiffy new pair (Despite how Glisten used to hound him).

“You’ll need some new clothes soon…” Astro noted, like it wasn’t the most obvious fact in the world. “Shelly’s been improving her needlework. You should ask her.”

For once Dandy yielded, setting his tray on the velvety furs of Astro’s overly comfortable bed. He tried to position it in such a way that it wouldn’t end up swallowed by the luscious lapping fabrics, but a little part of him wasn’t fully confident he wouldn’t turn back to see it completely and utterly gone.

“I should…” He sighed with a smile, “Would you help me pick out something new someday?”

Pulling his hands from fumbling with the cute buttons on Dandy’s clothes, Astro chuckled softly into one of his palms, “I’d love to.” Yet in an instant, his eyes flashed with a mourning regret, his smile dropping. “But– you should go and deliver that last meal…”

Dandy’s heart tightened in his chest, his smile growing tight and awkward. “Right…” He sighed, carefully pulling the tray out of Astro’s covers and leaving without a goodbye.

A goodbye was too painful. He never liked to bid Astro goodbye, not if it implied one day he’d never see him again– that one day a goodbye would be their last. 

Nimble fingers peeled Astro’s blanket from his bed, making ample room for him to curl up underneath the sheets. All four of his arms wrapped around a pillow for comfort, the twinkling star of his eye dwindling in the wake of his crushing misery and a sob choking its way out of his throat the moment Dandy had shut his door behind him.

It was hard to push Dandy away, he missed his face already– that stupid smile, the way he’d make his pillows reek of coffee insisting it helped him grow, the invasive light he’d let inside of his room far too early in the morning to help him wake up energised.

His food sat forgotten on his nightstand, nothing but anguish swirling in his gut. It killed his appetite, and left him feeling closer to vomiting than picking away at the flavorless meal.

It was expected of him to keep the flower at an arm's length, he knew that.

But it still tore him apart.

Back in the lobby, Toodles’ giggles filled the cavernous space with a warm glow it had been deprived of for a long time, kicking her feet perched on one of the entrance benches. She hadn’t been in such high spirits since Rodger had disappeared, a wide grin etched upon her features sparkling with childlike wonder.

“Do it again Mr Looey, do it again!” She squealed, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Alright, alright! Just for you!”

Looey tried to fill his voice with pride, tossing his juggling balls into the air and throwing them from hand to hand. He never could manage more than three, he got too anxious and dropped them when he was being watched.

Strange thing was he could do it alone, but Looey found there was a lot of things he could do alone that became too frightening to do with an audience. 

Toodles wasn’t taking losing Rodger too well, nor her ‘uncle’ Glisten. Teagan had shouldered her fear as far as she could, sleeping with her through nightmares, throwing tea parties just for her– anything to keep her from dwelling on the harrowing losses, yet she could only support her so far, and for so long.

The balloon dog had noticed her waiting for Teagan all alone, and decided to try and cheer her up.

As far as he was concerned it seemed to be working! And the positive attention kept his hands steady, his yellow tail wagging behind him. He’d been looking for a chance to try out his new material– Finn used to listen to his jokes, and Goob used to render himself starstruck that Looey could use his arms for anything remotely useful, let alone something entertaining– but Finn was gone, and Goob was busy. Looey hated to be a downer, but the alone time wasn’t doing him well, the longer he stayed away from the spotlight the more terrifying it became to take it back… even if some part of him was always afraid. 

“Hehe! Juggle Spot too!” Toodles beamed, throwing her spotty dog plush towards the balloon animal, who was having a hard enough time trying to coordinate his feet while keeping his eye on the juggling balls, let alone catch a plush flying straight at his face. 

‘W-Woah!” He yelped in alarm, letting the balls go in favour of trying not to let the plush fall on the carpet.

It whammed into his face, and he’d manage to smack himself in trying to grab it, stumbling around completely blind. Toodles cried out in warning, but it was too late. Two of his juggling balls missed him, but the last hadn’t fallen so fortunately, and the moment Looey held the toy away from his face to look around in a daze, it landed on his head, his legs giving way beneath him. 

“Urghhh…” Looey groaned, his head spinning. He held the toy up for Toodles to take back, feeling the fluffy dog being wrenched out of his hand. His face burned a deep unrelenting shade of orange, his chest tight and his legs wobbly as he rolled onto his back, the lights illuminating Gardenview’s lobby assaulting his senses. It was humiliating, and what’s more, he could hear Toodles giggling from above him.

“Mr Looey! You’re so silly!!” She beamed, blissfully unaware that the fault hadn’t been anything more than a comedy routine.

Looey tried to smile back, shaky and uneven– but his body betrayed him at every moment, his words squeaky and weak. “Y-Yeah! Haha… well, that’s enough for today–! You… Run along now, okay? I’m… a bit exhausted from that last trick…”

Toodles frowned, a pout finding its way onto her face, so stark from her wondrous smiles it just made Looey feel worse, unable to meet her eyes. He couldn’t keep performing, he wanted to shrivel up into rubber and be tossed in the trash where he belonged, used and despised for being such a failure. Anxious self depreciation swirled in his gut, plaguing his mind with thoughts he was so sure he’d gotten rid of, images he never wanted to see again.

“But Mr Looey!” She whined, “Can’t you do it just one more time…? I–”

A warm hand pressed down on Toodles’ shoulder, grabbing her attention. She cast her eyes up until she could see a rainbow flower staring straight back at her, his eyes soft and friendly– at least to her.

“Toodles..” Dandy hummed, patting her back, “Looey is a little tired, okay? Teagan’s in the kitchen making something for you, how about you go make sure she’s safe? Kitchens can be dangerous!”  

Years of working in kids television had done Dandy’s kid friendly persona wonders, his words as matter of fact as the little moral sendoffs he’d read every episode, enough to have Toodles nodding along and bounding back off to the kitchen, leaving him and the delirious Looey alone.

He leered over the crumpled balloon dog, holding a hand out towards his face. He was cracking, weakened, absolutely perfect. 

“Need a hand, friend…?”

Again– it was all a matter of sealing the deal.

Soft cries echoed against spongy walls, sucking up the sound and bouncing it back in distorted, ridiculous tones. It was designed to make the cries feel funny, soothe panicked children and fill them with laughter— but Looey wasn’t a child, and he didn’t feel soothed. Humiliation clawed at his tightening chest, sobs wrenching out of his dry throat no matter how many times he tried to clear his eyes and make them stop. 

Wiping his face produced nothing but a silly squeaking sound. Every part of him was designed to be laughable, and he couldn’t even stand being laughed at— how pathetic. 

His snout scrunched up just the same as when he was a little pup, never able to fall silently without the waterworks following him down, always the saddest to see mommy go when their parents had been decommissioned. He’d dawned frilly collar and clown attire to boot all to cure the tears of children just as frightened as he had been, to turn their frowns upside down with a hefty dose of medicinal laughter– and yet, he performed knowing he could never cure his own tears… believing at heart, he was a fraud.

“I’m– I’m so sorry you have to see me like this–” He croaked, the soft soothing strokes of Dandy’s padded palms trailing from his shoulder down the small of his back, careful not to disturb his tail solemnly tucked between his legs. “I don’t know what happened… I just– got so embarrassed…”

“Shhh…” Dandy hummed, “You did the best you could…” 

Every word that spilled from Dandy’s lips was coated in thick, drooling insincerity, the flower taking note of the way his fingers dipped and wavered into every small divot of Looey’s body, from his shoulder down to his back— all while he sobbed and babbled like a child. His weakness was unparalleled, his body unfit to resist any onslaught, and his mind ready to cave at the drop of a hat. 

“What would Scraps t-think of me? Oh god—” He groaned into his palms, “I don’t know what to do anymore…I— I try so hard! But I just… don’t think I can ever make a difference…”

“Oh?” Dandy hummed, “You think so…? I think maybe you’re just— going about it the wrong way!”

Looey raised his head to cast his gaze towards Dandy, a frosty, glistening hope lining his tears— flashing in his eyes the moment he’d been so kindly reassured. 

So needy he was, Dandy realised, even without encouragement. It would have been cruel to send him off on his own! Yet…

The poor balloon dog’s flaw laid in his choice of company.

The wimpy puppy dog and his catlike girlfriend, Looey and Scraps were a perfect pair, far too perfect. She encouraged him to be confident, to push himself, to stray away from the pristine perfect message Dandy had authenticated for their own good. It wasn’t safe to let Looey run wild with fantastical ideas of taking a stance and making a change, and if stifling them took taking advantage of them… he could stand to carry that burden. 

A sacrifice made in the name of perfection, he justified in his mind, the swirling shadows of Looey’s room lapping over his skin, stirring the dark bubbling ideas he’d kept buried down for so very long. Fear, pain, terror, it was temporary, and temporarily it too became a delicious reminder of what he’d have when all was said and done. 

“Really…?” Looey sniffled, searching for a spec of pity in Dandy’s cheery smile, anything to tell him the flower thought otherwise.

How pitiful to think he could stand a chance against his dishonesty, that he could ever see through such a well rehearsed act.

“Oh yes!” Dandy grinned, giving the balloon dog a few harsh pats on the back, as if to insinuate they were friends, pals, anything but predator and prey. A human and a mouse unaware of its fate being tossed deep into the lion's den.

“And I've got a good idea for you! You just need to trust me… ”

Chapter Text

Okay so I am actually working on the second part of the chapter in case anyone thought this was abandoned

Progress has been super slow ofc, I didn’t realise how piss boring it is to write alone, and the state of some of the fandom and the fics we be posting is wild.. (NOT ALL OF EM I REALLY LOVE A LOT OF THE CREATIVE COMMUNITY!!)

So when is it coming? Idk! Will it make complete sense as I slowly forget the events of past chapters? IDK! But we can only hope :3

Um stay tuned!! My discord is now the same as my ao3 username heh 😼

It might get a little weird and artsy, and tbh some parts of the smut might take the back burner for story based parts but we still gonna freak dw!!

Sorry to be away without an update for so long, I wanted to get out fast easy chapters but I want to make a product I’m happy with, and that anyone who finds this can be happy with!!

Kisses kisses!!

- 🍭