More Hideously Adorable Stuffed Animal Mary Sue Baby Nonsense
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants
Explaining where all this junk comes from would take too much out of my day that I could put towards spamming more depraved self-insert tripe and calling it canon.

I don't own any Ben 10 characters, nor do I claim. Watch me continue to pull anything I want out of my ass for the sake of kawaii uguu Mary Sues who I deny are Mary Sues while calling everyone around me Suethors who can't write worth a darn. Self-awareness? What is that? It's that extremely important thing in life I don't have. Parody authors must be having a field day exploiting it.

D'Void happened upon a room full of stuffed animals. His jaw hit the floor. Not literally. This fic attempts to be based somewhat in realism, though the plot tends to be cartoonishly idiotic, it might as well have. Complete with the loud bang of an iron hitting the floor sound effect. Clang. You know the one.

"What the hell are these doing in here? How did they get here? There's hundreds of them!"

Indeed the giant pile of factory production quality stuffed animal toys was stacked floor to ceiling. D'Void inspected it with a mix of fear, awe, and irritation. Two shrieking baby Null Guardians came flying in. Everything quickly made sense.

"Oh, that explains it," D'Void reluctantly acknowledged. "You reality warping author insertion freaks appear and any trace of logic vanishes." He folded his arms while shaking his head. "Well, guess what? This time I'm staying vaguely coherant in the face of your slobbering Black Hole God Sueism and telling you to get this cutesy dumb fuck weeaboo fanbrat garbage out of this room. It clashes with my villainous aesthetic."

The baby Sue Guardians shrieked. They projectile vomited their acidic spew into his face. D'Void screamed and rubbed his eyes.

"AH! HOPEFULLY TEMPORARILY BLIND," he cried. Excruciating pain shot through his eyes. "FUCK MY LIFE!"

He stumbled around the room until he caught his foot on a pink sock monkey's gangly outstretched leg. He tripped, falling against the pile and knocking it down on top of him. He was lost in an avalanche of brightly colored cuddly stuffed toys.

"Stupidity avalanche," D'Void cried from beneath the pile.

He heard intruders somehow having breached the intense security of his otherwise impenetrable citadel like they do in every story because establishing a coherant logical plot based on underlying canon is an impossibility. Critical thinking, how does it work?

"I can't wait to arrest D'Void for conquering the Null Void," Manny said. "How many fucking times am I gonna say this line?"

"It's been about 250 so far," said Helen. "I figured you were going for a world record."

Manny groaned in anger. "That's not something I'd want to hold as a world record, Helen. It's embarrassing."

"How do these assholes keep getting past my tight security. It's as if they're gaining the lame advantage of a writer's convience from an author who sucks at writing," D'Void whispered through a mouth full of purple stuffed kitten. He made a bleh face and tried to get the fuzzy fake fur off his tongue without giving away his presence.

"Where the heck is D'Void?" Manny inquired. "My trigger finger is itching."

"Maybe he left the citadel mansion," Helen said. "Or maybe he went to the luxurious billion dollar kitchen inside the citadel mansion to get a gourmet snack."

"Maybe he killed himself rather than live through another one of these nonsensical garbage stories," Pierce said. "Sometimes I wish I was dead so I didn't have to appear in them."

They walked away.

D'Void poked out from the stuffed animal pile. The shrieking baby Null Guardians had stuffed animals in their mouths to block their annoying shrieky-sobby borks.

"Maybe I'll keep this inexplicable pile of childish cuddle toys around after all," he said. "It can be my safe space. I'll jump in here to hide whenever I feel threatened. Which is anytime I open my eyes and see criticism of myself. Maybe I'll get an accompanying ball pit for when I feel socially awkward but desperately desire attention. Cluster B Personality Disorders! Comorbidity! Histrionics! Adult-child female self-insertion author!"

He burst into heavy sobs before breaking into giggles and then back to sobs. He ducked back in the pile where he remained hidden for a long time.

This was based off an actual story that existed.

The End.