#And Nightmare gets to answer the call from Killer to come pick him up when he's ready to come back
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somegrumpynerd · 3 months ago
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Before I forgetttttt
So color thinks Killer is brainwashed, BUT, what if one time when Killer's soul is normal and he can feel and think for himself again, what if they are chilling at Color's place and then Killer gets up and says something like "I have to go home, don't want to worry dad"
What would Color think ? Would he rethink everything because "wait, why did you call him dad ???" Or would he think that damn, this brain washing is even worse than he thought because apparently Nightmare makes them call him dad ?? Which is weird even for Nightmare that could be a manipulation method ??
Okay that's it byyyeee
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OH I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THESE GUYS OKAY SO!!!!!
(I'm still new to Color so if I'm wicked super wrong let me know!)
I feel like no matter what Killer said about Nightmare, Color wouldn't believe it. If somebody's been held captive so long they no longer think they want to leave, of course they're going to say they like living there. No matter how much Color cares about him, I think he has to consider Killer an unreliable narrator as far as his own situation is concerned.
But! Color's main concern is giving Killer his autonomy back and helping him learn to make his own choices. This unfortunately means if Killer keeps choosing to go back to Nightmare, Color has to respect it.
I feel like the only way he would begin to slowly unwind and trust that Nightmare had good intentions would be to see it for himself repeatedly. It's going to take more than a few good turns to prove that he isn't just putting on an act when Color is watching and then turning the whip on them again when nobody's looking. That's going to be hard to set up though since neither of them want to be around the other very much lol
I do think a good start for it would be Nightmare giving Killer the choice though. Like, not that they don't get to choose things regularly, but Killer isn't really one to think much about what he wants or come forward with it so Nightmare kind of assumes he's content and doesn't really think to check in with him. So if he actually made a point of asking Killer what he wanted and he said he wanted to spend a day with Color, I think that would be a good start. Obviously Color's not gonna jump to trusting him after one day, but hearing that Nightmare is also giving Killer his own choices and actually respecting them might give him a bit more reason to trust him.
That said, the image of Color's face as he asks "he makes you call him dad??" is sending me lol
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oldsoul007 · 22 days ago
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hope you like scary movies, cus you’re in one
a/n: I may or may not saw an edit…
ghostface!nicholas x reader
It was a quiet night in woodsboro , like it always is. I was a nanny for a little boy so I could get through college. My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and I glanced at the screen. Unknown Caller. I pressed declined but it repeatedly kept calling. Then the landline they had started ringing. I hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hello?" I said, my voice cautious.
"Hello, y/n," a distorted voice replied. It sent a chill down my spine. "Do you like scary movies?"
I recognized the voice immediately. It was Ghostface, the infamous killer that terrorize my dad in 1996. But something felt off. There was a familiarity in the tone, beneath the distortion.
"Who is this? You’re not funny” Y/n asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Guess," the voice taunted. "Or maybe I'll just have to come find you."
My heart raced, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew this person. She thought about Nicholas and how he always played pranks on her. Could it be him?
"Alright, Nicholas," I said, calling his bluff. "Cut it out. I know it's you."
There was a brief silence on the other end before the voice changed, becoming softer and unmistakably Nicholas.
"You got me," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I couldn't resist. I've been watching too many horror movies lately."
I let out a relieved laugh. "You really had me going there for a second. But seriously, you need to stop watching those movies."
Nicholas chuckled. "I know, I know. But hey, it got you to pick up the phone, didn't it?"
I shook my head, smiling. "Yeah, it did. But next time, maybe just send a text?"
"Deal," Nicholas agreed, his tone warm. As I hung up, I couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and affection for Nicholas. Even when he was being mischievous, he had a way of making me smile.
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I had been feeling uneasy for days. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. It started with strange noises outside my window at night and escalated to finding eerie notes left in places only I would notice. The notes were signed by "Ghostface," and they sent chills down my spine.
One evening, as I was walking home from work, I heard footsteps behind me. I quickened my pace, but the footsteps matched mine, growing closer with each step. I turned a corner and ducked into an alley, hoping to lose my pursuer. But as I looked back, I saw the unmistakable mask of Ghostface looming in the shadows.
My heart raced as I tried to find a way out. Suddenly, Ghostface lunged at me, pinning her against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" I cried, her voice trembling with fear.
The masked figure was silent for a moment before reaching up to remove the mask. To my shock, it was Nicholas, my boyfriend, standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.
"Nicholas? What the hell?" My fear quickly turned to anger. "You scared me half to death!"
Nicholas looked genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean to frighten you that much. I thought it would be a fun Halloween prank. I guess I went too far."
My anger softened slightly as I saw the remorse in his eyes. "You think?" I said, still shaken. "You could have just told me you wanted to scare me a little, not make me think I was being stalked by a killer."
Nicholas sighed. "I'm really sorry, y/n. I just wanted to do something different, but I realize now it was a terrible idea. Can you forgive me?"
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Just promise me you'll never do something like this again."
"I promise," Nicholas said, pulling me into a hug. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."
As we walked home together, I couldn't help but feel relieved that the nightmare was over. But I also realized that Nicholas had a lot to learn about what constituted a "fun" prank.
“I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with ghostface” “babe it’s Halloween losen up!” He said as we walked hand in hand.
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I had always felt a chill in the air around Halloween, but this year, it was different. I had my boyfriend, nicholas. He was charming, funny, and had a smile that could light up the darkest night. Everyone loved him. But there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
One evening, me and nick decided to attend the town's annual Halloween party. The old mansion where the party was held was decked out in spooky decorations, with cobwebs, eerie lighting, and ghostly figures lurking in the corners. Everyone was in costume, and I had chosen to go as a ____.
As I mingled with friends, I couldn't help but notice that Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. I asked around, but no one seemed to know where he was. Just as I was about to give up, I was walking by the stairs when I heard someone yelling.
I try not to be nosey but go up the stairs anyone. Maybe nick was up here anyway. I walked through the house looking in the rooms finding nothing. When I open the door i see some kid in a ghost face costume hop out the window. “What the fuck” I say under my breath. I pull out my phone to text him. No service?
I heard commotion downstairs so I ran down to see what’s happening. Everyone was gone from the house. I heard a floorboard squeak behind me.
It was Ghostface, and my heart raced. The figure moved silently through the room, its eyes fixed on me. I felt a shiver run down my spine as Ghostface approached, stopping just inches away from me.
"Y/n," a familiar voice whispered from behind the mask. My eyes widened in shock as Ghostface removed the mask to reveal Nicholas's face. He smiled, but it wasn't the warm, friendly smile I was used to. It was cold and sinister.
"I've been watching you," Nicholas said, his voice low and menacing. "You have no idea who I really am."
I took a step back, my mind racing. The pieces started to fall into place—the strange disappearances, the eerie feeling I got around him, the way he always seemed to know too much. I realized with a sinking feeling that my new boyfriend was none other than the real Ghostface.
Before I could react, Nicholas lunged at me, but I was quick. I grabbed a nearby candlestick and swung it at him, knocking him off balance. I ran through the mansion, my heart pounding in my chest, desperately searching for a way out.
As I reached the front door, I could hear Nicholas's footsteps behind me. I flung the door open and ran into the night, vowing never to trust anyone so easily again. But before I could even get out of the door he grabbed my arm pulling me back in. I try fighting him off but he grabs both of my wrist. “I’m not gonna hurt you y/n!” “Why, why did you do this?!” I yell looking him in the eyes. “What even is a motive?”
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honeygrahambitch · 4 months ago
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"Where did this come from?" Hannibal asked. His hands were busy washing Will's hair. A bruise on his temple drew his attention, making him brush away the foam to get a better look. "It wasn't here yesterday."
"A guy we arrested showed some resistance. He hit me with the barrel of his gun." Will explained. His eyes were closed and he was almost purring in Hannibal's hands.
Hannibal made a disapproving sound.
"Shame you arrested him. I can't go after him now."
"You do realize you can't chase down every guy who touches me, right?"
"One can always try." Hannibal answered honestly and continued massaging Will's scalp.
"I never hear about stuff like that from you." Will suddenly said and opened his eyes.
"What kind of stuff?"
"About the people that do anything to you."
"That's because the people who do anything to me don't get to live too much, darling. I take care of them myself."
"Of that much I am aware." Will said and pictured the way the Ripper case file kept getting thicker and thicker on his desk. "It would be nice if you didn't. At least sometimes."
"Are you implying that you want to play the knight in shining armour? For me?"
"You're stupid." Will concluded. "But yes. Sometimes you are too elegant with these individuals. And I get it, that's your thing."
Hannibal hummed thoughtfully.
"You got me curious. I might take your offer."
"Do that."
*
"Alright. Now, let's discuss what the victims have in common." Jack said, looking through a few pictures.
Will's phone rang just when he was about to reply.
"Sorry." He apologized and was about to reject the call. Hannibal's name flashing on the screen made him do the opposite.
"Hey." Will greeted him.
"My dearest." Hannibal started. "There is a gentleman here at Walmart who left his shopping cart in the parking lot. Right in front of my Bentley."
"That... sounds annoying?"
"And agonizingly rude."
Will smiled thinking of the funny choice of words. He found it adorable that Hannibal had called to share that with him. Then it sunk in. He remembered about their discussion last night.
"You're at Walmart where exactly?"
"In Quantico. I wanted to pick you up later."
"I'm on my way. Don't let that son of a bitch go." Will said and hung up.
That was it. His knight in shining armour moment. The looks he earned from everyone in the room were mixed and confused.
"Sorry, I need to go. It's important."
"Of course. The serial killer can wait." Jack concluded as Will was already leaving the room.
*
"Hey." Will said as soon as he parked his car. "You."
"Huh?" The man who was already very bored with the conversation he was having with Hannibal turned his head towards Will.
"Yes, you. Grab your shopping cart quickly and put it where it should be."
"And who exactly are you? The shopping cart police?"
"I will be your worst nightmare if you don't do as I say. Trust me, this is me being nice."
"I'm not doing anything." He said and started walking towards his car. Will did not quickened his pace. He memorized the car plate and watched the man leave with a content smile on his face.
"That was me being nice." Will told Hannibal who looked like he was watching his favorite movie.
"I am looking forward to what will happen."
"Good." Will said, then kept on his shining armour. "Are you alright?"
"Bothered by this incident but I am slowly becoming more and more enthusiastic."
*
"I hope you understand why I also asked Dr. Lecter to consult on this case." Jack said as soon as Will and Hannibal arrived at the crime scene. "It's quite peculiar."
"The man was found dead in a shopping cart at Walmart. His liver is missing. The cut is quite sloppy so definitely not the Ripper." Jimmy explained.
"Was it really that sloppy?" Will asked unamused by the feedback.
"I mean, it shows that our killer has no medical training whatsoever. But he's good enough. Meticulous."
"What do you think, doctor?" Will asked, ignoring Jimmy.
"The crime scene shows high class. Power. It has something sensual to it. I would say that the killer must have been quite disturbed by a very specific behavior caused by the victim."
"What exactly?" Jack asked confused by the specific choice of words. He knew better than to question Hannibal.
"Maybe the victim left his shopping cart in the parking lot?" Brian suggested making Jack roll his eyes.
"I'm sure it's deeper than that."
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ancha-aus · 4 months ago
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RealAgeAU Drabble - Birthday Planning
SO! Fun fact. I was kinda running out of ideas.
Then I had THIS idea.
And well. After the last ride? We deserve cuteness don't we? ;)
First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble
No edits we diving right in! (pppst. @spotaus I got the new installment get in here ;) )
*---------------------*
"Horror! Wait up!"
Horror blinks as he turns back around and searches the crowd. It only takes him a moment to spot the excited bunny monster. He tries to give a smile while he waits for a moment for the other to catch up.
Ellie stops before him panting harshly as she leans against him "Oh god." more pants and weezes.
Horror tilts his skull as he keeps the other steady "Hello Ellie... something wrong?" Maybe she needed help or something?
Ellie manages to pull herself upright again adn smiles brightly "Nothing is wrong! It is just I had something very important to ask you guys and saw you so i sprinted all the way over here."
Horror nods and gives her a look "What did you want to ask?"
Ellie grins widely "When is Nightmare's birthday? Like. No worries! I get that you guys havent been here for quite a year yet and with everything going on especially the whole kidnaping thing. we get you guys want the first birthday to just be you guys but Dani realised we still had some of our better quality cherry jams left over and I got the amazing idea to use those in a birthdya cake but! Well.. you know... gotta know when the birthday is. and we both figured it hadn't happened yet as you guys hadn't mentioned yet... so... When is it? And all you guys birthdays for that matter."
horror needs a moment to process all the information she just dropped on him. When he realised what she was asking he realised a tiny problem.
They all come from different universes and the calanders were not the same.
Worse.
Horror isn't even sure if Nightmare even has a birthday he celebrates. They never celebrated it as the castle.
Horror looks down at the groceries in his arms before looking at Ellie "Is it... okay I give an answer later?"
Ellie frowns before her eyes shoot up to his skull and hole and she cringes and rubs her neck as she looks abcka t his face. sheepish smile on her face "Right... sorry. That... that was a lot at once wasn't it? Just... think about it okay? And you guys got our number!" she takes a few steps backwards, almost bumping into someone before she disappears into the crowd again.
Horror sighs in relievve, crisis averted. Now.
When the fuck are their birthdays in this world anyway?
--
Horror returned home to his datemates and their kid. Horror still feels his soul pulse happily even at just the thought.
They sit together in the nest while their dinner cooks slowly in their oven. It is an old stone oven and Horror loves it. it is sturdy and takes up a lot of space but he love using it.
Killer frowns as he is still staring at his phone "I mean... We can just pick dates and call it a day? It isn't like I was still celebrating my own birthday back in my universe anyway. I only started that up again with you guys in the castle."
Dust hums his agreement and Cross nods too "True! XTale also wasn't big on birthdays unless it were the once which marked important ages. I am down to just pick one and call it."
Nightmare frowns as he looks between them before pushing closer to Dust "Not like it matters. It isn't like i am growing and stuff."
Dust nudges Nightmare's skull with his own and mutters softly "Hey... what did Fauna say?"
Ngihtmare doesn't say anything and just pushes clsoer to Dust.
Dust doesn't look like he is bothered by this at all as he just nudges Nightmare gently again "Come on... what did the nice deer doctor lady say?"
Ngihtmare grumbles but actually answers this time "That I won't grow until i am healed."
Dust nods "exactly. As long as you are healing you won't grow. Which, she told us is a normal response for children to have as their bodies and magic are much more fragile." he bonks their skulls together softly "Which means. You will stay our adorable six year old until you are healed fullly. Including physical, mental and magic health."
Nightmare looks down embarresed and mutters "should be healed by now... I am a god..."
Dust looks unimpressed "You are also a six year old who lived his whole life being abused and hurt and when you finally had the power to defend yourself you had to do an adult god's duty." he nuzzles him "Take your time. We aren't in a hurry and any monster knows what it means if a child isn't growing."
Nightmare relaxes a bit and nods. accepting Dusts words.
Dust looks content as he glances up before looking slightyl embarresed as he tubs his hood closer around his skull "what?"
Horror then realises he is staring and a glacne confirms to are Cros and Killer. Cross looks completely enchanted and Killer is straight up cooing. Yeah no wonder Dust is getting shy. He was the same when the four of them spoke about dating.
Horror smiles at Dust before taking his chance to say something "Well. We better pick a birthday for him." Horror smiles at Nightmare "Or do you have one we don't know about Night?"
Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Dream and I were born on the longest day of the year... I don't know which date it was in our universe and when it is in other universes."
Killer groans "Of course it was on the sunniest day of the universe- ugh." Killer shoots Cross a glare but Cross jsut sends him a warning look back.
Horror agrees. Killer would have no doubt said something about either Dream or Nim and neither of them matter. At all. Not when they have a babybones that probably never even had anyone celebrate his birthday.
Dust stays on task as he hums in thought "Well... we could figure out when the longest day is here... and say that is your birthday? usually those fall in summer."
Killer shoots upright "or! We can pick the day when the longest night happens! Go right to the other side of it all!"
Horror watches Dust and Killer debate the options while he watches their tiny charge think. and that is why he sees Nightmare blink and looks up a bit as he no doubt gets an idea. Then the doubt sets in wihtout him saying anyhting.
Horror speaks gently "Did you have an idea?" luckily Killer and Dsut shut up right away.
Nightmare shrugs and mutters "maybe... I thought... you know... I became six again... and you guys picked me up so second chance and stuff... so shouldn't that count as the day? Because it is the day this whole thing started?" he tugs himself clsoer to Dust.
Dust hums as he rubs his spine oh so gently "I think it is a great idea." he glances at Killer "Kills?"
Killer grins as he taps away on his phone "already on it! lets see..."
Horror smiles at Nightmare "I think we all agree it is a great idea."
Nightmare smiles a tiny bit and Horror sees a tine glimps of that confident monster Nightmare had been with his powers. Which is good. This means they are guiding him alright towards a future where he is confident in himself, and hopefully happy and healthy.
Killer sits up and holds up his phone in triumph "Figured it out! We got here near mid summer and we had Ngihtmare for two months at that point. Ngihtmare become his true self a month before we got him. meaning!" Killer grins at Nightmare "You are a spring baby!" Killer shows the date to them all.
Ngihtmare looks away embarresed and Dust nods "Sounds good."
Nightmare however looks a bit anxious "But that is so soon already?"
Dust nuzzles him "That is okay. We will just do a small party with us five. Well and Crop and Straw if they want to come."
Horror sees Nightmare looks surprised and just chuckles "It will be nice. Something nice to focus on and enjoy together." he rubs the tiny cheek and Nightmare closes his sockets to lean into the touch.
The five of them relax and eat dinner soon after that as they casually discuss when everyone wants their own birthdays. Horror makes a point of picking up their housephone and calling Dani and Ellie to give them an update on the birthday situation and to invite them the party if they want to and have time. Horror also gives Crop the same update and invitation.
They are together. They are healing. The are happy.
And they have a party to prepare. They have to make sure Nightmare enjoys his very first birthday party after all.
*---------------------*
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blinddreams24 · 6 months ago
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Hideout
A Mermay Prompt
Masterlist
Prev / Next
“Let go of me!!!” Water rushed through your hair and ears as he dragged you downhill, deeper into the ocean and further away from your pod.
“Hold on, hold on!” The squid tried to calm you. “I just have to get you somewhere safe first! Also! You’re not being very… appreciative! I’m saving you, y’know!”
“You’re not saving me!!! I was perfectly fine!!!” You thrashed. “Get your suckers off me!!!”
“Wow! You’re really new! You don’t even know that Killer would kill you! I mean, it’s in his name, but good for you for not judging, I guess!” He shot you a smile over his shoulder even as he swam.
“I know he can kill me!!”
“Oh…” He frowned. “You’re just dumb then.”
“Hey!!!”
He shrugged. “Dream really knows how to pick ‘em. Did you know he found another useless siren before you?”
You’d had enough. Growling, you bared your teeth and bit into the tentacle that held you. The taste that hit your tongue had your face coiling in disgust. It tasted like pastels and paint. Gross.
The tentacle twitched and Ink glanced back at you again.
“What are you doing? Oh, you’re biting me. Stop that. It won’t help you.” He sounded so calm and unaffected by the bite that you faltered. Could you even get away if he wasn’t hurt by you?
Your answer came when you pulled away from the bite and a chunk of tentacle came off. You could bite through the limb.
You attacked again.
“I mean in, pal. Leave my arms alone.”
You ignored him.
“Hey.”
Bite.
“Dude.”
Bite.
“I said stop!”
You were whipped around through the water and spun. The tentacle left your waist and you steadied yourself, ready to run. Or well… swim.
Ink floated over you, his tentacles curling around and over you, caging you in as he spoke. “Do you know how long it takes to grow those back? Besides, they don’t taste good.”
Your eyes darted around, looking for an opening. He was much bigger than you and had the advantage of ten extra arms, one of which was wounded but still working. He did seem pretty oblivious though. So maybe you could outsmart him.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked.
Ink smiled and the question mark was back. “What do you mean? What am I doing?”
You stared blankly at him. Was he serious? “…You’re taking me away from my home.”
“Oh! Was that where you lived? I’m sorry! We’ll get you a new home as soon as we can! Nightmare is a bit of an urchin when it comes to territory. You won’t be able to go back until he leaves.” Ink informed you.
“I… I was living with Nightmare.”
“…”
“…”
“…Oh.” Ink backed up and displayed his tentacles. “You worked for Nightmare?”
“Well, not exactly? But we do call him Boss.”
His left eyelight changed into a target. “But you would do what he said if he asked?” The water was turbulent with how much his tentacles were moving. It made it hard to focus.
“Well, yes. He’s been very nice to me.” You gently paddled backwards with your tail. He was starting to scare you.
The question mark was back but the target stayed. “Why do all of you say that? How is Nightmare nice? Tell me. He has torn apart entire islands, sunken ships, he’s massacred pods upon pods of sirens, he attacks Dream on sight, and he has taken each of you from your homes. How is he ‘nice?’” He threw his hands in the ai- water as he spoke.
He was so absorbed in his rant that he didn’t notice you’d moved just out of reach.
“Nightmare didn’t take me from my home. Cross did.” You turned tail.
“What- Wait! Come back!” Ink startled.
You swam. You swam as fast as you could. You didn’t know where you were going but anywhere was better than with this strange squid siren that thought you were evil. He was fast too. You could feel him gaining behind you. You twisted between and around the boulders on the sea floor but, as long as you were moving, he was right behind you.
Getting a risky idea and taking a chance, you darted into the first small cave you found and froze, not letting yourself move a muscle.
The rush of water stopped outside.
“Hello? Where did you go? Human siren? I’m not gonna hurt you and I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ink called. “What do you mean ‘Cross did?’ Hello? Are you even over here?” He sighed. “You’re not here are you? Did you go this way?”
He continued to mumble and chatter further and further away until you couldn’t hear him anymore.
You didn’t move for several minutes afterwards, careful to make sure he was actually gone. When you were certain, you slowly dragged yourself further into the cramped cave and laid down.
Nightmare could find you. He would feel your fear and come find you.
One thing was for sure, you didn’t like Ink. He was big and mean and scary. Not that the boys weren’t big or scary. They just never belittled you like Ink had. You weren’t dumb. Living with the boys was the smartest and best decision you’d ever made.
Who was Ink to judge your decision after he kidnapped you?
You growled softly, aware that he could still be nearby. Now you didn’t know where you were, Killer was injured and panicking somewhere if Dream hadn’t killed him, and Dream knew Cross somehow. He said something about Cross being new to the ocean and not knowing what to do. Like you.
That made sense with Cross’s floppy dorsal fin indicating that he came from captivity. But if Dream knew him first, why was Cross with Nightmare now?
Wait.
Oh my stars.
Dream was Nightmare’s brother, wasn’t he?
“Ugh!” You blew bubbles that dispersed like clouds, covering the small cave in fog. You had a god of puns to punch if you ever found one.
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final-girl96 · 1 month ago
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Killer Geek Chapter Thirteen
September 24, 1996
Casey Becker's House
Narrator
Casey Becker was set up for a movie night with her boyfriend Steve Orth. She set two VHS tapes on the kitchen counter, Halloween and Nightmare On Elm Street, before making her way into the living room. She turned on the lamp that sat atop the tv stand, then padded over to the sliding glass doors to make sure they were locked and the back patio light was off. When she turned to head back into the kitchen to make popcorn, the phone rang.
Early That Same Day
Yn
After I woke up and got ready for school I went downstairs to the kitchen. Stu was already here, which is kind of abnormal. He's usually always late if he decides to come over in the morning to pick us up. He and Billy are again sitting at the table, breakfast sandwiches from the local cafe in front of them. They were talking about something and haven't seen me yet, so I backed up a little and listened.
“It's tonight. When her parents leave for their dinner party tonight we will be sitting down the road. As soon as they're tail lights aren't visible anymore, that's when we get out of the car and head to the house. Leave the car where it's at so we can get out of there before her parents get back.”
Stu took a bit from his sandwich and nodded. I walked in after Billy was done talking, making them turn to look at me. “Good morning, idiots. Stu, I'm surprised you're here an hour before we need to be at school instead of five minutes before.” Billy was glaring at me for interrupting them. “How long have you been standing?” He asked.
“What? I literally just walked in, Billy. Don't worry, I didn't hear your plans to fondle each other later.” Billy's jaw clenched, hands balled into fists as he shot daggers at me. “Calm down. I didn't hear whatever you were talking about. Even if I did, I wouldn't give a shit.” I grabbed a bowl, the cereal, and milk, sat them on the counter and made a bowl of cereal. Then I went over and sat at the table with Stu and Billy. The both of them looked nervous; suspicious even, but I didn't push or ask what they were up to.
After I was done eating I put my bowl in the sink and headed back upstairs to finish getting ready for school. When I came back down they were gone. “Seriously? They just left me here?! What assholes.” I grabbed my keys, locked the door behind me, and walked down the front steps. “Hey!” I jumped, spun, he swung my fist. A hand grabbed my wrist before my fist connected with their face. “Whoa! Hey, it's just me.”
“Jesus, Randy! What the hell?” I hit him in the shoulder, pushing him back a step. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Just thought I could take you to school.” I raised my eyebrows, “Oh.” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, making me look down at the ground so Randy wouldn't see. “Um…yeah, okay.”
Casey Beckers
Casey wishes she never answered the phone. She should have asked yn to stay with her instead of Steve. Steve was late and now she was making sure every door and window was locked. The creep on the phone was watching her but she couldn't see where else was.
After she made sure the front door was locked she backed up, heart pounding, hands shaking. She looked around her to make sure nobody was sneaking up on her. She jumped when someone knocked on the door. “Who's there?” She asked, her voice trembling with fear. “I'm calling the police!”
When she went to pick up the phone, it rang…again for the tenth time, or at least that's what it felt like. Every time she would hang up on the person messing with her they would just call back. She hesitantly answered the phone, knowing they would only keep calling. “What do you want from me?” She cried into the phone. “Don't you know you're never supposed to ask who's there?” The distorted voice asked.
“What do you want?!” Casey screamed. “To see your insides on the outside!” The voice growled on the other end. Casey cried out and hung the phone up again. She stepped down into the living room, rushing to the patio door and making sure it was locked.
She jumped when the phone rang in her hand. She reluctantly answered it without having to ask who it was. “Before you might want to look outside before you hang up again.” She slowly walked back to the patio door and flicked the light on. She cried out, unlocked the door, and started to open it.
“I wouldn't do that.”
She locked the door again, crying at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend Steve was in one of the patio chairs with his arms and legs duct tape to it, with a piece over his mouth. Things didn't go so well after that. The shit fuck on the other end wanted to play some game. He asked questions about horror movies. She got the first ones correct. But he tricked her with the last one.
That one question got her boyfriend killed. When she looked outside again, Steve was now sitting in the chair dead. His insides on the outside. Her stomach churned at the sit, his screams for her would forever be stuck in her head. The nightmare only got worse when a chair came crashing through the glass doors. A scream bubbled up in her throat and she ran to the kitchen.
The Jiffy Pop on the stove was smoking now. She grabbed a knife from the knife block on the counter and headed out the door in the kitchen. When she looked inside she could see the killer In some kind of black clock and a mask walking into the smoky kitchen. She tried to keep the tears at bay, ducking down to get past the windows, but she stopped to look inside one more time.
That was a mistake when the killer popped up and punched through the glass and grabbed a hold of her. She took the phone still in her hand and smashed it into his face and took off across the patio, past Steve's lifeless body. She needed to get to the front yard so she could get to the driveway. Her parents should be returning home soon.
As she rounded the side of the house, thinking she was safe and clear, the killer jumped through the side window and tackled her and wrapped their hands around her throat and squeezed, cutting off her air supply. She was able to get away and keep running to round the corner to the front yard. Headlights were seen getting closer and closer. But she never made it to them, instead arms wrapped her and a knife was plunged into her chest.
Yn
I had decided instead of sitting at home with my nose in a book I would go over to Casey's. We haven't talked all that much anymore, not since she and Stu broke up last year. I wanted to try and rekindle that friendship and forget about everything that happened. She was my best friend; the person I told everything to and I need to talk to her about the feelings I have for Randy.
When I finally made it to the house I parked in front of the garage off to the side behind her car and got out. When I made it to the front door I could see it was open slightly. “Casey?” I pushed the door open more and stepped inside. The house was filled with smoke. “Casey!” I ran inside to see the mess in the living room. One of the patio chairs was surrounded by glass and wooden pieces from the patio door. “Casey! Casey, are you here?!” I went into the kitchen to see something on the stove was on fire.
“Casey!”
I took the thing of Jiffy Pop off the stove and put it in the sink, turning the water on to put the flames out. Then I headed for the stairs, calling out her name but got no response. I ran back downstairs, going into the living and came to a stop when I saw something horrific. Steve Orth was duct tape to a chair with his insides spilling out of him. “Oh, my god! Oh my god!”
I turned around and ran back to the front door, running outside. “Cas…” A scream ripped through me at the site in front of me. My best friend was hanging in the free out front, strung up by her own intestines.
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wishing-stones · 1 year ago
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how do you write for the guys? do you have specific ways you write for them or rules?
Yeah actually I have several things I keep in mind while writing them
When I write dialogue for Killer, I bear in mind that he's the quickest to act-- whether this is a reaction to something said, or actually doing something, he's almost always the first one to comment. He's also pushy, casual, and tends to order rather than ask. He speaks in proper case and with modern turns of phrase and slang. He's good with backhanded compliments and if that doesn't cut it, straight-up insults. He's also very sarcastic and throws quips and witticisms around freely.
Dust always speaks in lowercase and occasionally drops 'g's on the ends of words. He's quiet, so he doesn't get as much dialogue as the other do unless he's giving exposition, which he does from time to time. He's scarily observant, and doesn't miss anything. Sometimes he comments on it, sometimes he doesn't. He might even comment on it later.
When doing Axe's dialogue, I tend to make him contract words and not enunciate as clearly. He drops letters or has different words he uses (yer instead of your) to get the kind of gruff, deep rolling voice I have in mind conveyed properly. He's smart, too, but he's good at playing to those who would underestimate him for the head injury. That does affect his speech patterns, too. He'd sound a lot like Dust, otherwise. He also speaks in lowercase.
Cross is probably the one I'll have the hardest time answering this for. He's pretty upstanding and wasn't ever lazy, so he speaks in proper case. He's kind of similar to Killer in that he throws around modern slang and turns of phrase, but not as often. He's fairly reserved in what he says unless he's comfortable with the person he's talking to. He drops letters on occasion, but it's usually if he's not in his usual composure.
Baggs is the smartest person in the room at any given time. He knows it, too. (Or at least, he thinks he is and he's not usually wrong about it.) He speaks with proper case and lots of dictionary words. He doesn't tend to dumb down what he says unless someone asks for it in simpler terms ('English, Doc?') at which point he'll reiterate in easier terms to understand. He alternates between using contractions and not; if he's speaking quickly or around people he's comfortable with, he'll use them a little more readily. If not, he tends to use the extended forms (do not vs don't, cannot vs can't, etc.) OR if he's gotten wrapped up in some lecture or another while he's explaining things. He liberally abuses pet names, too, but the sweeter they are, the more likely it is that he likes the person he's referring to.
Nightmare almost never uses contractions. If he does, they tend to still sound very proper. ('I'll not, I've a(n),' etc.) He will use them if he needs to speak quickly, or if he's under great duress-- instances where he drops the propriety and becomes no-nonsense. He also uses large words, and his speech patterns are very antiquated. He tends to wax on about things before getting to the point of what he's saying, too, so sometimes I have characters call him out on that to make him stop. He picks his words carefully, and almost always says what he means. He also very rarely curses. (Damn is the most common).
And, just for kicks, the others;
Dream, similar to his brother, speaks in a pretty antiquated way, but he isn't afraid of using contractions. He doesn't do it all the time, but he isn't allergic to sounding slightly more casual (which... he's teased Nightmare about in the past). He also swears. He knows the impact of a well-timed F-bomb, and subverts other's expectations of him often. He takes great pride in doing so, actually. He is annoyingly observant and tends to skirt issues and doesn't speak plainly unless whatever the topic is deserves bluntness. He often leaves verbal breadcrumbs, cryptic comments, and noncommittal responses if he wants someone to come to their own conclusion.
Ink is incredibly casual in his speech patterns and use of colloquial phrases and slang. He speaks quickly, and if he's not putting up a front for whoever he's talking to, is annoyingly smart and accurate. He doesn't beat around the bush like Dream does and places value in being upfront. (Unless he's actively lying, which is hard to pick out anyhow because if he is, he just doesn't talk about it). He doesn't tend to think about things before he says them, which leads to trouble sometimes... but it's usually harmless. He doesn't insult unless it's petty. He speaks in proper case.
Blue speaks in uppercase, unless he's in an enclosed area (indoors, usually) where he switches to proper case for his 'indoor voice'. While not yelling, he is naturally loud. He speaks pretty casually, but is careful about what he says. He doesn't like being mean or hurting feelings, but... it doesn't mean he's incapable of it. He is just as sharp as any of the others and, similar to Dream and Axe, plays off of other's expectations of him being nothing more than an excitable recruit in over his head.
Error... is difficult. I hear his voice when I type his dialogue, so I place em-dases wherever I hear it skipping. He tends to skip more if he's under stress, angry, excited, or otherwise feeling a big emotion. I've typed his dialogue in zalgo text in the past, but I feel like using dashes is much better for readability and conveying to readers where I hear the skips. As for how he talks, he's pretty casual, swears often, tends to use shorter words (so he doesn't garble them) and doesn't... really use a lot of slang. He knows it, but he doesn't often use it. He speaks in proper case.
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sweet-villain · 2 years ago
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Let's Play A Game~ Ghostface AU~ D.M ~1
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Summary : The town has a killer on the loose, it all started with one and the numbers just keep adding on. Will you survive the killer's game or will you end up being the victim of his game?
@harringtons-cupid @haileighboi @pleasantlycrazyworld @clovermunson @moonchildquinn. @ceriseheaven @glamourpearlsandpolkadots @hawkins-high86 @cinemaquinn @woahlifehitsyahuh @pastel-pillows
Mention of Death
Chapter 1 : Melissa Johnson & The Gang
You can hear the screaming coming from the television as it’s on in the background while Melissa popped into the microwave a bag of kneel to make some popcorn.
It’s been a long week of nonstop studying and homework, barely time making to see some of her friends as she was glad it was finally the weekend.
Melissa had brown long hair, a little past her shoulders with brown eyes with long eyelashes, rosy cheeks wearing a light yellow cardigan underneath a white tank top with light blue jeans paired of with some slippers to wear around the house.
Her parents were out of town for the weekend leaving her on house duty, telling her not to break anything while they were away. She was known to throw parties, be loud and be everyone’s favorite. She hums one of the songs she heard on the radio as she waits for the popcorn.
Suddenly the phone rings, her head snaps towards it near a bowl of apples.
She isn’t expecting anyone to call tonight, was it a prank call? She makes her way to the phone and answers it. 
“ Whoever you are you got the wrong number” she says before hanging up the phone. The phone rings again making her sighs and rolls her eyes, answering him. 
“ You got the wrong number, please stop calling here” she says. 
“ Wait I want to apologize for calling” the voice answered her. She rolls her eyes again, “ You’re forgiven, bye now” she was about to hang up the phone when he spoke up again. 
“ Wait, don’t hang up. I just want to talk” the voice says. She chuckles with her finger on the button to end the call, “ They have other numbers for that” she hangs up the phone putting back on the receiver. 
Melissa turns back to the popcorn that beeps in the microwave, she can already smell how good it smells from where she’s standing. Before she gets to take the popcorn out, the phone rings again. She picks up the phone and makes her way over to the microwave. 
“ Hello?” Melissa answers with the phone pressed to her ear. 
“ Why don’t you want to talk to me princess?” 
She opens the microwave, her stomach growling from the smell of the popcorn.
“ Who is this?” 
“ Why don’t you tell me your name and I will tell you mine? Will that work?” The voice says on the other line. 
She chuckles as she reaches inside the microwave taking the popcorn as it burns her finger. 
“ I don’t think that’s how it works Mister” 
“ I heard a noise, and a hiss. Are you alright?” 
“ I was making popcorn and got burn, I’m fine” 
“ Popcorn is my favorite” 
“ Is that right?” 
“ Yes, especially with a good movie on” the voice says. 
“ Well, I am getting ready to watch a movie” 
“ What kind of movie?” She grabbed a bowl out of the pantry, it was pink. It was her favorite color. 
“ Just some scary movie” she response putting the phone against her ear and shoulder as she holds it up while she opens the bag of popcorn. 
“ What’s your favorite scary movie?” The voice asks. She poured the popcorn into the bowl while she thought about her answer. 
“ There are so many movies to choose from” she hummed into the phone. “ What’s yours?” The voice tsked. 
“ I asked first, be a good girl an answer” she hummed, biting on her bottom lip. 
“ Nightmare On Elm Street, the first one” 
“ Now, what’s yours?” 
“ Take a guess, buttercup” 
“ Halloween!” She grabbed the bowl of popcorn heading to the living room with the phone in her hands. 
“ Is that the one that runs with a knife and a white mask, with a blue jumpsuit?” 
“ Yeah that’s Michael” she says. 
“ Yeah, I like that movie a lot. Did it scare you?” 
She put down the bowl of popcorn on the table making her way to the doors and locking them and pulling the curtains closed. 
“ The first one a bit, but I am a big girl and can handle it” 
“ A big girl huh? Does the big girl have a boyfriend?” The voice asked. 
She giggled, “ why? Is the random stranger calling me want to ask me out on a date or something?” 
“ Maybe, maybe not. Do you have a boyfriend?” 
“ No, No I don’t” Melissa says as she walks up to her television to look through the pile of movies she had there. 
“ You never told me your name” he adds. 
“ Why do you want to know my name?” She asked, picking one film up to look it over. 
“ I want to know the person I have been watching” 
All the color ran from her face as she looked around the house in panic.
“ What did you just say?” She asked. 
There was a sound of a crash outside with a sound of from a cat. She looked towards the door as she swallowed. 
“ I want to know who’s on the phone with me” 
“ That’s not what you just said” she says. 
“ What did you think I said princess?” She opened up the curtains to the back of her house looking out to see if anyone was there. She didn’t see anyone, turning on the porch light to see if she saw someone there while panic shown in her eyes. 
“ Look it’s been good talking to you, stranger but I need to go” she says turning off the porch lights and turning off the lights. 
“ What? Where are you going? I thought we were going to go on a date” 
“ Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea at all” she looked out the window making sure the back door porch is locked. 
“ Don’t you dare hang up on me” the voice says as Melissa presses the end call button, casting one more look out into the darkness of outside.
She turns around walking toward the couch to take a few deep breathes to herself when the phone rings again.
“ Jesus” she eyes the phone in her hands as she answers it. 
“ Yes? What do you need?” She answers. “ I told you to not hang up the phone on me, you don’t listen”
“ What do you want from me?” 
“ To talk princess” 
“ Talk to someone else, bother someone else who cares” she takes a couple of popcorn into her hands and throws them into her mouth. The phone rings again scaring her as she jumps at the sound. This was getting annoying and old. 
She answers the phone with anger in her tone, “ Listen here you piece-“ she was cut off with the sound of his voice in anger. 
“ No, you listen here princess, you hang up on me one more time I will gauge your eyes out. You got that?” The voice spatted. She remained silent on the phone, fear written on her face as she looks towards the back door porch. 
“ That’s what I thought” 
“ Is this a joke?” She softly asked, fear in her voice. 
“ Oh no, more like a game. For me” she backed away from the living room into the kitchen where she spots knifes in a little knife holder. The big on the back and the small once in the front.
“ Do you want to play…..Melissa?” The voice speaks her name.
Melissa feels the goosebump hit her as she runs to the doors to check that everything is locked. Her back is against the front door as she rapidly breathes in and out. 
“ Do you see me out there buttercup?” Her body shakes as tears form in her eyes. 
“ Listen here jackass, I am about to call the cops on you” he laughs. 
“ They won’t make it time, not when I am not done playing with you” 
“ What do you want from me?” Tears are rolling down her cheeks now as she sits on the ground in a ball. 
“ I want to see the color of your blood leaking on the floor as I gut you like a fish” the phone drops from her hands as she sobs to herself. The doorbell startles her as she shakes looking up at the wooden door in fright. 
“ Who’s there? What do you want?” She asks through her tears. 
“ I am calling the police, I’ve had it with this joke” she grabs the phone from the ground as she sniffles. Before she gets a chance to dial the number, the phone rings again, scaring her as she nearly drops it. 
“ Have you never seen a scary movie? You can’t just ask what do you want? Who’s there? Jeez” the voice speaks through the phone as she answers.
Melissa has her hand over her mouth as she cries Into it letting the tears soak her sleeve.
“ You want to die or something?” The voice continues to ask, “ Why don’t you come out here and see for yourself who’s there?” 
“ Please, stop with this. You had your fun, you need stop or else I’ll-“ the voice cuts her off with a chuckle. 
“ Or what? What are you going to do?” 
“ Or I’ll call my dad and he will be pissed one he finds out your playing this stupid game with me. He’ll have you swinging across town” 
“ Your father? Isn’t he out of town?” 
“ No, they just went to the neighbors for dinner” she said through her sobs. “ They will be back any second now, you better be gone or your ass is his.” 
“ Sure, Sure, Sure..” The voice chuckles.
“ Believe me…I swear..” She says as more tears stream down her cheeks. 
“ He has a big bat in his car, he will crack your skull in two seconds” 
“ I am so scared, your father has nothing on me. You are nothing without him, such a little girl always needing her daddy to fix her problems. You have shaking to the bone princess” 
“ It’s better if you just leave me alone” her voice cracks as she speaks through the phone.
“ Daddy’s name wouldn’t be, John? Would it?” Her eyes got wide as she grips the phone tight. 
“ H-How do you know his name?” She asked. 
“ Turn around and see for yourself on the porch” she gasps clenching her chest as she slowly makes her way to the back porch and turns on the lights, gasping when she spots her father sitting on the ground on his knees with tape over his mouth and a rope tying his hands back. He has a gash on his head, there is blood dripping down his face. 
“ Oh my god!” She screams. “ Daddy!” 
She turns to unlock the patio door opening to go to her father when the voice speaks to her, “ Oh I wouldn’t go out there princess, no.” She listened to the voice, closing the door back up as she cries into the phone. 
“ I just want to play a game with you Melissa, or he dies in front of your eyes” the voice spats through the phone. Melissa screams shaking her head. 
“No, god. No” she shakes her head as she whimpers. 
“ Which will it be? Hm? Do you want to play my game?” 
“ First turn off the light, be a good girl and listen or John get it” 
“ What game is it?” She asks through her tears as she turns off the light. Her father is screaming her name through the tape, his own eyes are teary. The lights are off as Melissa steps back and leans against the kitchen counter. 
“ You’re going to answer my questions and you get them right, daddy get’s to live and if not, then I will gut him like a pig that he is” 
“ First one is easy for you… who’s the killer in your favorite scary movie?” 
She shakes her head, “ Please don’t do this to me.” 
“ Oh come on, buttercup just answer for me, you know this” 
“ No, I can’t” her body shakes as she drops to the floor. 
“ Your daddy is counting on you” 
“ I can’t…” 
“ You can, you know who it is. The guy with a white mask with a knife in his hands. You know his name, we spoke about it” 
She gasps through her tears as she tries to gather her words. 
“ Michael. Michael Myers” 
“ You got it! Very good girl…Now for the next question!” 
“ No! Please!” She begged through her tears. 
“ But your doing so well, you can do it” 
“ Please.. stop..” She continues to beg the voice.
“ Answer the question, Melissa…” 
“ Please..” She begs. 
“ Who was the killer in Nightmare on Elm Street?” She stood up from the floor wiping her face with the back of her sleeve of her cardigan. 
“ It’s the guys with the claws…umm.. I don’t know his name!” She shouted.
“ Oh, sorry you are out of time!” The voice shouted. 
“ No! His name was Freddy, Freddy Kruger!” She shouted. 
“ You were out of time, now here poor old dad is running out of time too."
Melissa raced to turn on the light to see there was blood gushing out of her father as his head was sliced. She screamed into the phone seeing the sight of her father. 
There was a loud laugh on the other line on the phone as Melissa whispers to the ground. 
“ Oh you poor little girl, where do you think your going?” The voice asked. Melissa had scrambled back against one of the table chairs putting the phone back to her ear. 
“ The last question, are you ready?” The voice asked.
“ Leave me alone, please” she begs him shaking up still from seeing her father. 
“ Answer the last question and I will” 
“ Where do you think I am?” He asked. 
She frowns in confusion as her eyebrows knitted together.
“ What are you talking about?” 
“ There is the back porch, the front door and the basement door. Where do you think I am?” Melissa scrambles to her feet as she grabs onto one of the kitchen knifes from the counter she used before to make herself a sandwich.
“ You can"t do this!” 
“ The clock is ticking, what is your answer?” The voice asked.
The front door flew opened with a loud bang as Melissa made a run for it further into the other room. She clenched with one hand onto the phone while the other hand had the knife as she slowly back up getting closer to the patio door.
Suddenly there was figure in black clothing passing through one of the room and Melissa caught sight of it and gasped.
She turned the knob of the patio door with one single tear dropping down her cheek as she looked out the window then back where she saw the figure. 
Melissa stepped outside, slowly closing the door as she backed into the corner near a few of the bushes.
She has the phone in her hands as it shakes, her heart is racing like it’s about to jump out of her rib cage and little gasps come from her. She looks into one of the windows inside her house to see a black cloak holding a knife as it looks around.
She backs away back to her hiding spot as her eyes glaze over and thinks on what should she do.
Down the road there is a car headed down a path with bright lights. 
A tear runs down Melissa’s cheeks as her hand shake. She decides crawl under the space of the windows to get to the other side.
She pauses seeing the car rounding up the corner but as she stands up to look to see where the killer might be inside. He’s there standing there and turns around in time to hear her scream. 
He breaks the glass with his head as he takes a hold of her wrist holding the knife and struggles to tug her to him. With her other hand holding the phone, she wanks him into his head sending him crashing to the ground. 
Melissa quickly breaks out in a sprint as she runs and pauses seeing her dad laying on the ground in his own pool of blood.
She turns the corner to see the car was rolling up to the house with hope in her eyes. But she spoke to soon as the killer crashes through the window and jumps onto her, sending them both to the ground. 
She scrambles to get up from the ground and run for her life but the killer runs after her with a knife in his hands.
The same knife she held onto as he grabs her, one hand on her mouth preventing her from screaming out. The other hand that hold the knife stabs her in the chest. Melissa screams into his hand with her eyes clenched.
He lets her go watching as she drops to the ground with a thud. Her eyes are wide as she looks down at her yellow cardigan spotting red where the wound is.
She is panting and crying all together. He raises a knife above her head ready to stab her once again when she tries to punch his face in but he takes a hold of her throat but she kicks him knocking him off his feet sending him on the ground.
She arches her back, gasping for air. She starts to cough on blood in her mouth as her eyes spot the people getting out of the car. It was her neighbors, the once that were suppose to check on her while her parents were away. 
She rolls on the ground, and begins to crawl towards them to the sound of their voice as they talk to each other.
She just rounds the corner when they knock on the door and listen to the sound of her voice but the only sounds coming out of her mouth are little rasps of “ H-help me-e.” 
The neighbors that were suppose to check on her have a spare key of the house as they entered it without her getting a chance to grab their attention.
The killer comes up behind Melissa, she turns her head to see him as he pushes her down on the front porch of the house. Her bloody hand reaches up to take off his mask off his face to reveal who he was. Her eyes go wide at the familiar voice.
Before she gets a chance to say his name, he raises a knife above his head with a wide smile stabs her in the chest, once and again and again and again.
While this is happening her neighbors look inside the house seeing it distraught state with the popcorn on the table that’s cold.
The television blaring some type of program and there is glass in the kitchen with the window busted open. 
“ Melissa!” One of them calls. “ Where is she?” The other asked. 
The two look around not seeing her in sight and begin to worry. One of them races up the stairs to take a look in her bedroom while the other picks up the phone to call the police.
The one holding the phone says her name, and says to the other that she can hear Melissa gasping. The killer drags Melissa’s body down the path of the drive way to the mail box that is in front of the house. 
“ We have to call the police” one of them says, “ you have to call the Johnson’s” the other says.
One of them walks outside and down the path but stops, screaming as they fall to their knees.
The other comes out to see why they were screaming when they saw the horrible sight of Melissa Johnson sitting on top of the mailbox with blood dipping down her cardigan. It no longer the shade of yellow but the crimson color of her blood. 
There was anyone else in sight. 
-
It was only a week ago that Melissa Johnson was killed and left for her neighbors to find. The Johnson’s came back the next day after their trip to identify it was their daughter that was killed the previous night.
The news hit the town pretty hard. It was all over the news and in the newspapers.
The school had shut down for a bit to let everyone mourn the loss of a friend, a classmate and anyone else that knew her.
Today, it was the first day back to school and you walked downstair greeting your parents, and ruffling your little brothers hair as he sat eating his breakfast. 
“ You’re awfully happy this morning” your mom says as she hands you a plate of breakfast.
You smirked, taking it from her as you sit across the table from your brother placing the plate down. “ Happy to see my friends again” you mumbled picking a piece of toast off your plate. 
“ She wants to see her boyfriends” your brother teases you, scrunching up his nose as he did a little dance in his seat. You took a piece off your toast and tossed it at him.
“ No throwing food at the table” your father says casting you a look. “ What boyfriends is he talking about, sugar?” Your mom asked as she sat down at the table. 
“ I don’t have any boyfriends, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” your brother giggled as he stood up from his seat getting his backpack. He was going to school on the bus and ran out the door without another look at you. 
“ Have a good day at school!” Your mother shouted at him but she only heard the sound of the front door shut. 
“ He’s always running to school, such a teacher’s pet” your parents shot you a look. 
“ Be nice” your mother says, adding, “ finish your food and go. You don’t wanna be late” you waved her off, taking piece of toast in your mouth as you stood up putting your plate in the sink. “ Going already?” Your father asked. 
“ Don’t wanna be late” you ran over to your mom, kissing her cheek and kissed your father’s cheek. 
“ Have a good day, hunny” your mother says watching you make your way to your bag.
You leaned down to grab it and slip on your shoes heading to the door. You opened the door just in time for your neighbor to walk out. Now, your neighbor wasn’t like anyone you knew.
He had the prettiest blue eyes that you ever seen matching with freckles covering his nose and cheeks. He was extremely attractive and always smelled so good. 
“ Morning, buttercup” he says in a teasing tone as he hops into his car. He always drove you both to school on the way, picking up Laura, his supposedly fling. “ Morning” you opened the front door of his car as you slide into your seat.
He had one had on the steering wheel while leaning back with sunglasses covering those pretty blue eyes.
“ Happy to see me?” He asked, sending you his famous dazzling smile. To some girls, it made them giggle and twirl their hair and with you, it made you melt inside but you never show him that it did. 
“ Delighted” you answered, putting on your seat belt. 
“ Awe cheer up, we’re going to your favorite place on earth” he rolled his eyes as he teased you knowing full fact that you hated being in school and it was the last place you wanted to be. 
“ Oh yay” you clapped your hands sending him a fake smile. He laughed throwing his head back and you could of swore it was the most beautiful sound you have ever heard in your life.
He drove out of his driveway down the road making turns while you were making conversation.
He parked near a small house with a picket fans, and out the door comes out Laura with her bag on her shoulders. She had long dirty blonde hair with green eyes, she always wore skirts and tops that made her chest stand out.
She was super sweet and all, but she loved the attention especially if it was from guys like Dacre. 
“ Good morning L” you greeted her with a kind smile on your face. 
“ Good morning, pretty” she greets you as she hops in the back. “ Morning sexy” she says to Dacre with her hands behind his seat as she leans over to kiss his cheek.
Dacre scrunched up nose feeling her gloss on his cheek, it really bothered him but he held his tongue as he continues to drive.
He kept looking over at you to see you watching the passing trees, the people walking outside and everything else that grabbed your attention.
He turns the corner right into the school parking lot where students were walking already in schools. There was a cop car outside the school that you noticed. 
“ Wonder what’s that about” you look back at the cop to see Chief Lopez wave to you.
The Chief has been friends with your father for years now, the two went back to when they both went to school. He would stop the house from time to time for dinner or grab your father for a drink. 
“ It must be the whole still Melissa thing” Laura says leaning back in her seat as she filed her nails, popping her gum in her mouth. Dacre rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice as he put the car into park. 
“ Ready ladies?” He says, hopping out of his car and you followed with Laura.
He wrapped an arm on either side of you as the three of you walked to the front of the school. Chris, Rylie, Kevin and Sasha had joined you three. 
Chris and Rylie were both twins, living down the street to the school. Their mom was one of the teachers at the school while their dad was the principle
. They both have met you through one of the classes the two of you shared. Kevin is dating Rylie, while Chris is dating Sasha. You were the only one that felt like you were out of the dating loop. But you had only eyes for one person and he was sorta taking. 
“ You bozo’s ready for hell?” Chris asked knocking his hips into yours sending you stumbling into Dacre who took a hold of you, sending a glare towards Chris. 
“ Another school year, another day in hell” you mumbled. “ What more can you want?” You turned with the rest watching everyone outside chatter while you locked eyes with the Chief who was making his way over. 
“ Morning” he greets you all. 
“ Morning Chief Lopez’ you all said together.
“ You kids, get to class. I have something to discuss with you later” he says. All of you looked at each other in worry. 
“ May I ask what this is about?” Rylie asks. 
“ Melissa” he says as he was pulled away by one of the teachers. 
Melissa Johnson wasn’t just anyone.
She was part of your friend group and she was the ex girlfriend of Dacre who looked like he seen a ghost right.
She used to be your best friend, you haven’t even talked about her with your family. 
It was like she was forbidden name. 
You were not ready for this year or any curve balls thrown your way. 
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angelofrainfrogs · 5 months ago
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Into the Pit: Ch. 5
~Coauthored by @zeitghest~
Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach
Description: He should be in the Daycare. 
Gregory emerges from the ball pit to find not the bright, rainbow room he’s accustomed to, but a house with a huge backyard and a kiddie pool of plastic “water.” Calling for Gregory is a familiar voice—Michael. Only this time it’s not Charlie or Freddy by his side, but someone completely new. And why do they insist on calling him their son?
Gregory soon comes to realize this existence is vastly different from anything he remembers. Perhaps these last few weeks at the Pizzaplex have all been a dream…?
Rating: T
Read on Ao3
Upstairs, Gregory was having a hard time coming to terms with some things.
In the journal kept beneath his bed, something he’d apparently started when he was 8, now going on 13, was a record of his days both good and bad. Gregory was seeing a therapist for his anxiety issues, but nothing ever mentioned the delusions he was having. In fact, as the pages went on, bad days were outnumbered by the good. He’d been here for years—taken from the foster system around 7 years of age, but knowing he was going to be adopted since 6. Some things just made sense, but there was a severe lacking mention of ghosts and virtual serial killers…
When the knocked came to his door, Gregory quickly shut the thick, ink-stained book and looked to Ditty, who scuttled around his desk and inquisitively picked things up to move them about.
“I gotta eat dinner, can you find more stuff while I’m gone?” he asked, unsure if the little guy was even listening before receiving the world’s smallest thumbs up from his new robot companion. “Yeah anything with my name on it—drawings, journals, whatever…”
He’d have to read these more intently later to jog his memory. Going to the door, Gregory turned the knob and threw it open. He was getting pretty peckish at this point. worrying does a number on one’s stomach.
“Doing alright—” he finally answered. “—just going through my journals.”
“Oh, great idea!” Michael praised, his smile more genuine now. “That’s always a good way to jog your memory.” He gestured for Gregory to take the lead towards the stairs. “I made dinner—sorry it’s not going to be as good as when Dad cooks, but I promise it’s edible.”
He chuckled at the self-depreciation, hoping Gregory would get a kick out of the joke, too. The kid looked a bit better than before—not nearly as outwardly stressed. Maybe he was already improving?
Michael could hope.
Following Gregory back down, they found Jeremy had set the table again and was waiting in his chair ready to dole out the sandwiches.
“The guest of honor has arrived!” Michael announced, smirking as he pulled out Gregory’s chair with a little bow. “Your seat, monsieur.”
The double-accent sounded ridiculous, which was exactly Michael’s intent. Anything to make Gregory remember how wonderfully fun this version of his family was.
And it worked; the kid was all smiles now. He just had to pretend like this morning didn’t nearly shock the life out of him. Now it was like a game, one where he had to piece together his life to this point. There was no danger here, Gregory reminded himself. Since being adopted, nothing bad had really even happened to him. Scooting in towards the table, Gregory plopped down into the seat that Michael pulled out for him.
“Oui, oui thank you monsieur.” Gregory played along, making Jeremy laugh as he tossed a few napkins towards his son.
Jeremy placed his plate down, carrying on the joke. “Your sandwich le fromage, monsieur! It’s tres manifique.”
Despite Michael’s normally burned cooking, the sandwiches didn’t look half bad in Jeremy’s opinion—though he’d rather jump off a bridge than refuse to eat his darling husband’s food because of some char. Gregory would giggle at this, watching as Jeremy pulled Michael’s seat out for him.
“Sorry that we had to leave the Pizzaplex early, guys. My nightmare was like… really intense and was inside the mall,” he half-explained.
“No need to apologize,” Michael replied as he took his seat. “We all get a little overwhelmed sometimes. Plus, that place is always insane on Saturdays...” He shared a look with Jeremy, letting Gregory eat a few bites of sandwich before speaking again.
“Hey, Greg—” Michael gave him a smile more curious than anything, though his eyes held deep-seated empathy. “—it’s totally okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now—the last thing we want to do is stress you out more—but… we’re here if you want to share any of your dreams. No matter how bad they are, we’ll listen.”
Gregory’s smile looked strained, though he figured by this point, if none of it was real… It couldn’t hurt to tell them.
“I… had a dream I was kind of like—living at the Pizzaplex? And then things went crazy! So much happened—Charlie was in the Puppet! Like, her ghost. Yours was in Freddy’s,” Gregory began to ramble. He set down his sandwich, choosing to look at the grilled cheese rather than his dads. It helped him get his thoughts in order.
“Pappy was Bonnie. Like—his mind was stuck inside Bonnie. Not quite a ghost, but not… Man, I don’t even know what he really was. But he was using dead kids to try and bring himself back to life? Apparently he’d been doing it for years. Then he injected me with this fizzy purple stuff—it’s supposed to make you immortal or something. He thought I was Evan. Oh—Liz and Evan were dead, and he was trying to bring them back, too. Then we trapped Pappy inside a video game and I smashed it with a hammer…”
Wow, Jeremy thought. Vivid AND concerning. He realized when Gregory picked his dinner up against to take more bites that he was done with the short retelling of his dreams.
“That’s… intense, little man. I’m sorry,” was all he could say, before his brow furrowed in thought. “Wait… Puppet? Like The Puppet? From the original diner way back when?”
Had Gregory ever even seen the Marionette? That old thing had been retired to Charlie and John’s house years ago, a powered down and prized toy that June inherited but rarely played with. When Gregory gave Jeremy a confused nod, his father sat back in his seat to fold his hands together in thought. He silently looked to Michael, wondering if he ever told their kid about the old, out of date security bot.
By this point Mike was leaning forward, hand covering his mouth where it rested on his palm. This dream was far more disturbing than he’d thought it’d be…
To think everyone was dead? And possessing animatronics, to boot? Plus William was apparently a murderer—
“How did you… did Charlie tell you about that?” Michael questioned, a hint of disbelief in his tone, eyes widening at the mention of Puppet. Surely within their whole extended family someone must’ve shown off the run-down bot… but it hadn’t been Michael. He blinked, sitting up and shaking his head.
“Er—you probably don’t remember, sorry. It’s just… I don’t remember ever showing you Puppet.” He gave a nervous laugh, sharing another side-eyed glance with Jeremy. “We thought it might freak you out too much. A lot of kids thought it was unnerving, so…” He gave a weak shrug.
What the hell was going on?
“A-Anyway—” Michael’s lips curved into a light smile. “—I was stuck in Freddy? Hmm… I guess there’s worse robots to be with. I hope we were all nice, at least…?” The faint smile slipped back into a grimace. “Besides Pappy, I suppose…”
“Of course you were nice; you and Charlie protected me! But, Henry—” Gregory placed the last two bites of crust down on the plate to explain. “—he made you guys robots that looked exactly like people! He called them androids. Because… Charlie died on her sixteenth birthday. He made some for her, and then when you died, Mike—er, Dad, he made one for you. Lizzie and Evan have them, too. Charlie helped you guys attach your souls to them; apparently she’s the only one who could move them around. Cas was dead, too…”
Gregory took a break, chewing and swallowing another bite of food.
“…Puppet loved Charlie a lot. She gave really good hugs,” he remembered, missing Mari now; this little girl he made up in her mind that was so excited to talk and tell you about her day… “I don’t know… Maybe June told me about her.” He wasn’t sure how hard he wanted to think about it. Gregory let his crust drop again to his plate as he thought about his apparent grandfather, trying to downplay how his mind painted him. “William wasn’t trying to hurt me—not really. He just wanted me to be alive. I mean, he wanted Evan, but he got really confused. He didn’t care who got hurt to make himself alive either… I mean, he obviously wouldn’t ever do that here.”
“No, of course not—he loves you and wouldn’t hurt anyone like that,” Jeremy reinforced. He didn’t look tense, but he grasped Michael’s hand beneath the table for support. Running his free hand through wavy blonde hair, Jeremy let out a small laugh. “What was I doing? I hope I wasn’t being a jerk to you.”
Gregory’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. “No… Uh… You weren’t there. Mi—er, Dad didn't mention you either.”
Well… That was better than actively trying to hurt the kid, Jeremy supposed. Still he couldn't help but purse his lips in thought as to why he was just never even mentioned. Nothing at all to indicate he was a part of Gregory’s life?
“Weird…,” Jeremy murmured, lost in thought.
“God… I’m so sorry, Gregory,” Michael murmured, so quiet it was as though he was talking to himself. He returned the hand squeeze under the table, for some reason getting that pit-of-the-stomach feeling that all this was somehow his fault…
But that was just his mind overreacting. No one was responsible for Gregory’s horrible dreams—not even the boy himself.
“Maybe you’ve just been overstimulated lately,” he tried to reason. Applying logic to an illogical situation—it was all he could do until he had a medical opinion tomorrow. “I mean, we’ve been visiting the Pizzaplex a lot… I know it’s fun, but there’s so much stuff going on there. We might wanna cut back a little.”
“Yeah... Yeah that's probably it.” Jeremy agreed for now. Running his thumb along the outside of Michael's hand, he told Gregory: “I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Freeman just in case. Maybe she can help us figure out where to go from there. Until then—” Jeremy cleared his throat before stacking their plates on the table. “—how do you feel about some ice cream?”
Gregory's smile turned up again, now looking back to Jeremy with glee. “I feel pretty strongly about ice cream."
With a more relaxed posture, Jeremy took the plates and lifted Michael's hand to his mouth, placing two kisses on his knuckles. “Ice cream, hon?”
He didn't want to seem like he was ignoring or trying to bury the issues. But there was no sense dwelling on imagined, horrific scenarios if they made Gregory feel bad.
“Sounds great,” Michael readily agreed, eyes crinkling at the sweet gesture. There really wasn’t much use in focusing on something they couldn’t do anything about right now. Sitting back in his chair, Michael set his hands in his lap and tried to relax. Sweet confections always improved any situation, no matter how dire it might seem.
“Let’s see, I think we’ve got… chocolate, right?” Michael asked, tracking Jeremy as he put the plates in the sink and went to the freezer. “I can’t remember what else… cookie dough, maybe?”
"Which one—"
“Chocolate!” Gregory shouted answering Jeremy's question before he could even ask it. Then, Gregory corrected himself. “Wait! Chocolate and cookie dough?”
The smile on Jeremy's face brightened with a laugh. “Sure, kid; Mike?”
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Michael confirmed, jerking his thumb towards Gregory with a grin.
While Gregory stretched his legs, Michael idly watched Jeremy get the ice cream ready. His eyes were on his husband, but his mind wandered to possessed animatronics and purple liquid that made one immortal. Two questions kept popping up in his mind:
How did Gregory know about the Puppet? And why were his eyes now shining silver?
Luckily, before he could get too lost in his thoughts three hearty bowls of ice cream were set on the table. All were piled high with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. Michael raised his brows at this.
“I didn’t even know we had sprinkles. Did you check the date on them, Jer?” His head tilted in consideration. “Wait… can sprinkles even go bad?”
The question of Gregory’s physical appearance scratched at Jeremy’s mind as well. Somehow, Gregory’s eyes reminded Jer of those old pictures of shell-shocked war veterans. He'd seen the before and after photos of a doe-eyed private that came back from battle with a wide and hollow stare. Gregory’s didn’t meet the same intensity as that, but their paleness was comparable.
A couple of scoops later, and he could pretend to forget about it for now. Michael raised an excellent question about the sprinkles, making Jeremy scratch at the short stubble on his chin.
“Sprinkles are only made of good stuff—they can’t go bad,” he fibbed, inching back towards the kitchen. Gregory raised his spoon impatiently for his mouth, only hesitating when Jeremy called: “But wait just a sec in case I’m wrong!”
There was a short beat. Then his relieved voice finally answered: “They’re good! Enjoy, guys!”
Gregory smiled towards the kitchen spouting a quick, “Thanks!” before stuffing his cheek full of the cold treat. When Gregory glanced up to Michael, they locked gazes. It was clear his Dad was staring at him. The question was exactly what he was looking at—though Gregory had his suspicions.  
Blinking to break the connection, Gregory swallowed a spoonful of ice cream and tilted his head. “…What’s wrong?”
“Nothing; sorry,” Michael responded, quickly dropping his gaze to the steadily-melting bowl of ice cream.
He took a slow, thoughtful bite, wondering if he should even bother to ask. It seemed like every time they had a semblance of peace a new concern popped up in his mind. Had he always been such a worrywart? Deep down perhaps, especially as he got older… but Michael couldn’t ever remember being this much on edge.
“…Actually, I do have another question for you, Greg,” he said after a moment of silence save for the clinking of spoons against bowls. He was watching his son again, looking for any signs of physical discomfort. “You’re not having any, um… vision problems, are you? You seem alright, I just have to ask because—well.”
With a vague gesture of his spoon, Michael indicated the boy’s startling eyes. Surely he’d caught sight of them in the mirror today… and if not, Mike would feel really bad for pointing them out and adding yet another worry to Gregory’s list. 
He knew it was coming; it was only a matter of time before one of them mentioned it. The thought crossed his mind that Gregory, along with these false memories, looked different when he woke up this morning. It was starting to make him feel as if he was still missing the bigger picture. Gregory played with the lumps of cookie dough, mashing them further into heaps of ice cream before answering.
“I can see great,” he replied with a shrug. Not a lie by any means; he could see better than ever. But he knew that wasn’t what Mike was getting at. However, if there was one thing Gregory got very good at over the course of his dream life (so he thought, at least), it was fibbing. “Why?”
Jeremy bit the inside of his lip, unsure how he would breach this topic. To him, they almost looked like cataracts if he squinted. Tinted mirrors with no reflection, swallowing all the light instead of projecting it back—save for a strange, subtle glow from within. 
“Your eyes look a little different than they normally do, that’s all.” The way he mentioned it didn’t make Gregory feel odd about the way they looked, putting him at ease. Their son didn’t want to think about why he looked the way he did and just shrugged.
“Maybe it's just the light?” Gregory remarked, experimentally batting his eyes—feeling out whether they still worked properly with the added workload.
“Yeah… I'm sure that's it. Ignore me, kiddo—I’m just turning into a worrywart like Uncle Evan. How’s your ice cream?” Michael flashed him a grin. With this and the slushie, Greg was going to be wired… and then crash equally as hard. 
“Famtabstic—” Gregory praised with a mouthful. His tongue darted out to capture a sprinkle from his lip, feeling a little bad for not opening up about what happened in his dream sooner. So he would deflect this with a valid question of his own. Swallowing what was in his mouth, Gregory looked to his Dads and asked: “I have a question, though…”
Jeremy had already made a good dent in his bowl, but saved time to ask his son: “Hm? What’s up?”
Wiping away sticky sugar from the corner of his mouth, Gregory raised a brow. “Why is this cookie dough alright to eat, but regular cookie dough isn’t?”
Jeremy opened his mouth to answer, floundering when nothing actually came to mind. He was going to have to Google this later, but he postulated regardless, turning a suspicious eye to the sugary mounds in his dish. “Maybe it’s counterfeit cookie dough.” 
“Oh my god—don’t make it sound like we’re buying black market ice cream!” Michael exclaimed with a laugh, nudging Jeremy’s leg under the table. “It’s safe because the flour and eggs in the dough have been treated to get rid of bacteria and stuff that makes us sick; the homemade kind isn’t put through that process.”
As Michael lifted the final, oversized bite of chocolate sweet to his mouth, he could feel his family’s eyes on him. With the spoon hanging in the air, he lifted an eyebrow. “What? I was raised in a pizzeria chain whose specialty dessert was ice cream. I know waaaay more details about that stuff than I ever wanted to.”
With a shrug, he set the final bite in his mouth and let his spoon clatter onto his plate with a satisfied hum.
Jeremy should’ve expected Michael to know something like that. Both he and Gregory frequently learned a lot of random, usually pizza-related facts from him.
“I wish I knew that! Here I am, thinking we got fake cookie dough,” Jeremy chuckled, locking his ankle around Michael’s. “A lot smarter than my answer anyway…”
"Nah, they pour bleach on them instead,” Gregory said after inhaling his final bite, happy to spew obvious misinformation.
“No! What? They can’t do that. That should be illegal!” Jer snorted, unable to keep a straight face as Gregory nodded his head in the affirmative.
“Nope. It’s all bleach!” Feeling like he was in a much better mood, Gregory decided to take the bowls and spoons from Jeremy’s grasp, much to the man's surprise. “It’s cool;, I’ll go rinse them out.”
“Aww—thank you, sweetheart.” Jeremy was pleasantly touched by the gesture. As Gregory passed the threshold of the kitchen, Jer leaned his head against Michael’s shoulder and contentedly closing his eyes. “What a cool kid, right?” 
“The absolute coolest,” Michael confirmed. “I think that really cheered him up. He’s already acting more like himself. Could just be the sugar high, but hey—if that’s what it takes, I’ll add ice cream to his daily routine in a heartbeat.”
Jeremy laughed quietly at this. If that was the case, it might do Gregory some good if they got him a gym membership for Mazercise. Gregory was at that age where he was going to eat his weight in junk food; lord knows Jeremy and Mike were the same way. 
“Did you say daily ice cream?” Gregory caught, peeking around the corner with a sly smirk. 
“Ice cream maybe daily. Maybe…” Jeremy sat up now, leaning over to gently pinch Gregory’s cheek, then decided to mess with his hair when the kid playfully batted at his teasing hand.
Michael chuckled at the display, tagging in for Jeremy to continue mussing up Gregory’s hair when the other was successfully fought off. The boy was soon released from his fathers’ attack, trying his best to resituate his locks as Michael grinned at him.
“Well, now that we’re all energized and sugar-ified… what do you want to do, Gregory?” he asked, standing up and stretching his arms high to the sky. “Watch some TV, play some video games, go outside for some fresh air… the possibilities are endless.”
There was that normal cheerful demeanor finally breaking through again. The more Gregory felt like himself, the more Michael did, too.
On the defensive, Gregory had lightly swatted the hands away from his hair—no wonder his once poofy mane was flat, with everyone always messing with it. It was a losing battle, as Gregory did find having his hair being played with soothing. He had his family to thank for that discovery.
While he did have all the video games he could possibly play judging by the entertainment cabinet, clear glass stocked to the brim with cartridges, discs, and cases, he had something else in mind. Fresh air would do him good; being all cooped up might be one of the things hurting him rather than helping. Gregory felt like he'd been in hiding for two weeks because of his nightmare. He missed the sunlight...
“Can we go hang outside? It's such a nice day out,” he remarked. It might be a little hot, but it beat the slowly developing hermit qualities he'd notice growing in his mind.
“Outside it is, then!” Jeremy would agree. He loved the outdoors; one of these days he was going to take them all camping again. “What are we going to do when we get there?”
“Uh...” Gregory drew a blank. What do people do together outside?
Then, he thought on it. If they went back to the little make shift ball-pit, was there a chance of jogging his memory?
“We could play in the ball pit!” Gregory suggested.
“Oh yeah!” Michael mused, now leading the way to the back door. He’d almost forgotten about that thing. “Good idea—we spent all that time getting it set up, might as well get some use out of it!”
It’d be therapeutic for all of them, he thought—childish fun without worrying about beating high scores or completing missions. Just a kid and his dads swimming in a plastic pool and having the time of their lives spending time together as a family.
Soon enough Michael was throwing open the back door, releasing his family into the warm afternoon sunlight that lit up the rainbow plastic in a beacon of fun. Gregory ran to the edge of the porch, looking into the wide pit. It was a fun idea; probably less expensive to maintain than a pool, though Gregory didn't think that was why they did it. He probably wanted the convenience of a ball pit without having to go all the way to the Daycare.
It was then that he was picked up, Jeremy having snuck up behind to toss him gently in the pool. Gregory let out a yelp of surprise at this, and as he made his short flight through the air he waited for memories to come to him...
Touchdown! A small splash of plastic orbs rained back over in his parents’ direction. The above ground inflatable pool wobbled with the motions and Gregory moved to “swim” towards the edge.
In a sudden movement, Jeremy whipped around and hugged Michael. It seemed out of nowhere. When Michael finally hugged him back, Jeremy tightened his grip and used his weight to pull them both down together, all in one singular, unspoken motion of betrayal. The sight had Gregory covering his mouth, laughter rolling out of him now.
The memories might not come so easy, Gregory thought. This could take a lot longer than he previously expected. New ones didn't hurt though...
“Unbelievable!” Michael cried as he popped above the surface. “I trusted you, Jeremy Fitzgerald! Don’t run away from me—”
As Jeremy desperately tried to escape his husband’s wrath, Michael picked up a bright red ball and threw it with perfect accuracy. It bounced harmlessly off Jeremy’s back right between the shoulder blades, but the blonde made a show of going down like it’d completely taken him out. Michael laughed at his triumph, then suddenly whirled around and scooped another ball into his hand. With a wicked grin, he tossed it in the air and caught it while eying his son.
“Don’t think you’re getting away, either!” Michael proclaimed, tossing the ball towards Gregory. And with that, the game was on.
They had fallen in with a might splash, only for Jeremy to scramble away at the last second. He fell with a dramatic yell when the plastic ball collided with his spine, face first into the pit once more. He was simply too slow to flee from Michael's wrath. Gregory shrieked, attempting to dunk under the pit, but unfortunately being clocked in the side of the head with the lightweight sphere.
These transgressions wouldn’t stand. And so the family had an all-out war, throwing balls and wrestling in the backyard.
It was what life could be. To some, what it should be…
***
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imagine-you · 2 years ago
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cover up love's alibi (billy hargrove/reader)
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author's note: written for a prompt for my spooky writing fest. the request was billy hargrove/reader and billy comforting reader after ghostface calls/taunts her. full prompt is after the fic for anyone interested in ~~spoilers. title taken from 'call me' by Blondie.
word count: 4.2k
You settled into bed, the chill slinking into your room chasing you under your blankets. You had a horror movie ready to play and a bowl of popcorn on your nightstand. Your parents had gone to see your grandmother for the long weekend, leaving you alone to do as you pleased while they were two states away.
You didn't want to be alone. There was someone you wanted there in your bed with you. But you were sure he would think a night alone watching horror movies was lame. Not when there were parties or other debaucherous things to do.
You were just about ready to start the tape you rented from Family Video when the phone rang. You jumped, mentally scolding yourself for getting scared before you watched even a second of the movie.
You picked up the phone, thinking maybe it was your parents calling to check in on you.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Y/N."
You sent an unsure look down at the receiver in your hand. You didn't know that voice. It was smooth and dark and sent a shiver down your spine.
"Who's this?"
"A friend," the voice answered, teasing and wicked.
"I don't think so," you denied, knowing the voice wasn't like any you had ever heard before. It sounded almost unnatural, lending a surreal element to the call. You would have been convinced you were having a nightmare if it weren’t for the way your heartbeat spiked in your chest, causing you to shudder.
You pushed your blankets off your legs, a creeping, restless sensation taking over you. You could feel your flight-or-fight instinct beginning to kick in, but you didn't know what you were supposed to fight or where the hell you were supposed to go to escape the voice.
"Tell me...are you alone in the house?"
A chill of uncertainty washed over you. All those 'stranger danger' talks came to mind, and you instinctively said the only thing you thought would save you from certain tragedy. "No."
"Liar," the voice admonished, an amused chuckle following. "I know you're all alone in that big house of yours. Tell me, how long do you think it'll take for help to arrive? Before or after I carve into that pretty flesh of yours?"
You immediately slammed the phone down, struggling to hang up when it hit the side of your nightstand. You scrambled to grab the receiver and place it back in its cradle, breathing heavy as you tried not to panic.
You went through your options in your mind.
You could run to a neighbor's house and beg to stay there.
You could stay in your room, alone, and hope it wasn't anything to worry about at all.
You could call your best friend and hope that he picked up the phone and not his dickhead of a roommate.
You went with option three, knowing it would make you feel safest of all.
The phone only rang twice before someone picked up.
"Hello?" Billy's voice croaked across the line. It was filled with exhaustion, and you knew you had managed to wake him up.
"Billy?" Your voice trembled and you twisted up your blankets in your fists, trying to hold on to your sanity.
"What is it? What's going on?" You could practically hear Billy going on high alert, alarm and worry flooding his voice. 
"I, uh, I got a phone call," you started, instantly feeling like an idiot. What could Billy do? And if there was a psycho after you, then did you really want him in harm's way? After everything that had happened to Billy since coming to Hawkins, you didn't want to add 'psycho killer' to the list of things he would have to face. 
"Is everything alright? Need me to come over?" There was a sense of urgency in his voice that had you immediately begin to calm down. It was just a phone call, right? It's not like someone was over here knocking down your bedroom door, butcher's knife held aloft and ready to slaughter you.
"No," you finally decided. "It's just, the guy was being a creep. He said some pretty fucked up things."
"It was probably dumb kids pulling a prank. You know there's a bunch of little shits in this town who don't have anything better to do."
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to settle your nerves. You finally pulled a blanket back up over your legs, settling against your pillows once again. "So, uh," you started, not quite ready to hang up, knowing that Billy's voice in your ear was the only thing working to quell your fears at the moment. "You still going to leave me all alone at Hawkins Community this year?"
Billy laughed, the sound sending a bolt of warmth through you, and you felt yourself relax the tiniest bit. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but not everyone needs college to have a future. I'm doing just fine working on cars all day."
"Yeah, yeah," you groaned, rolling your eyes, falling back into the easy pattern of bickering with Billy. It was simple enough to forget all about the phone call from the creep trying to scare you, and let Billy's voice soothe you into trusting that you were safe after all.
A month later, you had managed to forget all about the creep on the phone. You had the start of a new semester to worry about and making time to waitress at Enzo's and hang out with Billy whenever you could. Your plate was full, and you didn't have time to worry about something that was obviously just a dumb prank. You were only going to focus on the important things in your life like work and school and Billy.
When Billy Hargrove and his family had crashed into Hawkins in October of '84, you thought he was a jackass who thought he was too good for the town you had grown up in. He always had a snide remark about the school or other students or the small community of Hawkins, and while you initially couldn't stand Billy, the summer of '85 changed everything.
You managed to get thrown right into the hellfest of a horror show that was happening at the mall on the night of the fourth of July. Even though you thought things had been a little weird around town, especially with the mysterious disappearance and death of Barbara Holland, you could have never guessed a gargantuan, fleshy monster would terrorize Billy, his stepsister, and a bunch of other kids at Starcourt while most of the town was watching fireworks and having a blast at the celebration the mayor had been going on and on about for months.
It was really a wrong time and wrong place situation for you, but you managed to hold your own and even save Billy's life when the huge spider-like monstrosity went after him.
The trauma and fear ended up being a great way to bond with Billy, and by the time fall had replaced summer that year, you were best friends. You helped him get a job at your uncle's auto shop and Billy stayed up late with you before your tests, helping you study so you wouldn't have to worry about failing out of college and disappointing your parents.
You went to the movies together and helped Billy search for an apartment once he had enough money to get away from his abusive asshat of a father. You let Billy drive you to school when your car finally gave up and died on you and you made sure Billy actually managed to eat a vegetable or two so he wouldn't die of malnutrition.
You were as close as you could possibly be without dating, and even though you had had a crush on Billy for the past two years, you knew he only saw you as a friend. And that was alright, obviously. That was okay, because you still had Billy in your life, even if it was only as a best friend, and that was more than enough for you to be happy.
So, it wasn't a big deal for you to be getting ready to go out for dinner with Billy. He was celebrating a promotion and pay raise at work, and you were celebrating an A on your first essay of the semester.
Your parents were out on a date, which left you alone in your house. You were brushing your hair, trying to decide if you wanted it up or down, when the phone rang. You were sure it was your parents checking in on you, or maybe Billy calling to let you know he was about to leave his place. Either way, you were completely unprepared for the voice that greeted you when you answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Y/N."
You nearly dropped your hairbrush, fear coursing through you. "What do you want?"
"Oh, come on, now. Is that any way to speak to a friend?"
"You're not my friend." Your hands started trembling and you hastily set your hairbrush down on your dresser.
"But I'm just calling to check on you. All alone in that big house. Must be scary."
"I'm not alone," you bluffed, trying to keep the terrified waver you could feel creeping up your throat out of your voice.
"Is that so? So that wasn't your parents I saw leaving your house half an hour ago?" The voice made a disappointed noise. “I thought friends didn’t lie to each other, Y/N.”
A bolt of fear shot through you. Was this person watching your house? Were they waiting for the right moment to attack you? Were they across the street, watching you from a neighbor’s house? Or maybe they were camped out at the payphone on the corner, choosing the perfect place to terrorize you from.
"I-I don't know--"
"But I know. I know your parents aren't home. I know you always leave the backdoor unlocked. I know just how easy it would be to find you, alone in your room, getting ready to celebrate that A you got."
"How do you know that?" There was a sinking feeling in your gut that told you there was only one way they could really know that. But it couldn’t be true, right? There was no way.
"Because I'm watching you," the voice confirmed, causing a cold wave of fear to crash over you.
You hurried to hang up the phone, hastily pulling your jacket on. You were eager to get out of the house. You didn't even care if Billy wasn’t there yet. You couldn't wait. Not if someone was moments away from breaking into the house. You shoved your feet into your shoes, not caring that the back of one was bent in half, making you limp across your room. You hurried down the stairs, making sure to grab your bag from where you left it hanging on the banister. 
You could just imagine someone creeping in through the backdoor of your house, meeting you in the front hallway, their knife slicing right through your gut. You felt all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, stumbling as you rounded the table in the foyer.
You expected someone to ambush you at any moment. You thought there would be pain and screams and your parents finding your bloody corpse waiting for them on the living room rug.
Instead, you made it to the front door, your breaths coming out high and panicked as you fumbled to unlock the front door. You swung it open, pushing out into the night, only to collide with someone else.
A scream caught in your throat as hands came out to steady you.
"Hey, hey," Billy breathed, concern laced in his tone. "What's wrong? You okay?"
"I got another phone call, but Billy, he's been watching me," you insisted, hoping he would believe you. "He knew about my parents being gone and that I was alone and that our backdoor was unlocked."
"Hey, calm down," Billy soothed, running his hands up and down your arms, trying to quell your shivering. "I'm here now, alright? Nothing's gonna happen to you as long as I'm around."
"But what if--"
"No," Billy was quick to cut you off. "No what if's, alright? You're safe. I'm with you."
The adrenaline was quickly fading from you and you felt yourself begin to shiver even harder. "Fuck," you gasped, pushing into Billy's space. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you up close against him. He was so warm and felt so safe that you couldn't help but burrow in closer, taking comfort in his presence. "Just get me out of here, please," you begged, no longer wanting to stay in the house.
"I got you," Billy promised, starting to lead you out to his car. "You're safe with me."
Billy took you out for ice cream and you spent hours in his car, listening to Billy tell you about all the obnoxious customers he saw every day. You didn't even notice when he moved closer to you, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders. It felt natural for you to rest your head on his shoulder, delighting in the feel of his laughter soaking into you the closer you got to him.
By the time he drove you home, you realized you didn't want to leave his side. Being with Billy felt right to you and you hated that he was about to leave you while he went back to his apartment. When he pulled up the driveway of your house, you almost asked him to stay. You thought about sneaking him into your room, not caring if your parents caught you or not.
But you didn't, because you were a coward when it came to asking for what you really wanted. Instead, you settled on gracing him with a kiss on his cheek, wondering if it was just your imagination that his head turned just the slightest bit in your direction, as if he wanted to meet your lips with his.
It wasn't until you started drifting off to sleep that you thought about the creepy phone call. Billy had managed to distract you so fully from the all-consuming fear you had felt only hours before. You wanted him there with you, but you weren't sure if Billy felt the same. As far as you knew, he only wanted you as a friend. It was frustrating and painful not knowing his true feelings, but you hoped that if he felt anything more for you, then he would be the one to take the plunge and let you know.
Days and weeks passed, and you didn't get any more threatening phone calls. You were starting to feel safe at home again, so of course, it wasn't long before you got a phone call, and another one, and then another one. One let you know this stranger knew you went to Hawkins CC and another told you he knew about your job at Enzo's. You got the creeping certainty that this person was stalking you and you worried that they wouldn't stop until you were dead.
After every call, you immediately called Billy. He got so used to it that he would start answering within one ring, asking if you were alright and telling you he was on his way over. Billy could be over to your house within seven minutes, meaning that if anything were to really happen, then you would just have to give him a call.
So, when your parents told you they were going out of town for another weekend visit to your grandma, you didn't freak out. You knew that if anything happened, then you could just call Billy.
It was the night your parents left when your situation became even more horrifying.
You started some popcorn, waiting patiently for it to finish cooking in the microwave, while you thought about which movie you wanted to watch. You were filling up a glass with water when you caught your reflection in the window above the sink. You didn't notice anything off at first, but then you noticed there was someone in your backyard.
They wore a black cloak with a hood pulled up over their head. A mask covered their face, instead showing a ghost's face, black plastic for the eyes, nose, and elongated mouth. White surrounded the rest of it, lending a ghastly, eerie visage set against the backdrop of your backyard.
You stumbled back, hitting your hip against the counter behind you. You scrambled for the phone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts, not sure if you were going to call the cops or Billy or anyone who could help you against an intruder. You rushed towards the phone in the front hallway, cursing when it slipped out of your hand in your haste.
Your hands were shaking as you dialed Billy's number, scolding yourself for not making sure the doors were locked or all the windows were closed. All you could think about was getting Billy there, because you knew he would never let anything bad happen to you as long as he was around.
You saw a shadow move past the front windows, and you pressed the phone to your ear, desperate to hear Billy's voice.
"Hello?"
That wasn't Billy's voice. It was his dickhead of a roommate.
"Randy, it's Y/N. Is Billy there?"
"Nah," Randy answered. "I think he went to see you or somethin'. You two doing it yet?"
"Fuck," you hissed, hanging up the phone. At least Billy was on his way, you couldn't help but think. But what if he didn't make it to your house on time? There was a crazy, psychotic lunatic running around outside your house. It was likely he would be able to break in before Billy could even get to your house.
You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to decide what the hell you wanted to do. What were you supposed to do? You couldn't go outside, because that was where the psycho was, waiting for you to try to make a run for it. And if you stayed inside for much longer, it would only take one broken window or picked lock before you were no longer safe.
You jumped when there was a knock on the front door. You waited, fight and flight mashing together in your brain, so you stood there in the front hallway frozen in uncertainty.
"Y/N? It's me."
You let out a pathetic, relieved sob at the sound of Billy's voice. You rushed towards the front door, rushing to get it open so Billy could come inside.
"What's wrong?" He asked the moment he saw your panicked state.
"There was--and I--I don't--," you struggled to say, unable to pull in a breath.
"Hey, hey," Billy soothed, stepping away so he could try to make eye contact with you. "Calm down. I'm here now. Everything's fine. Just take a breath, alright? With me. On one, two, three," Billy counted, leading you in a few deep breaths so you could calm down enough to tell him what happened.
Once you finally calmed down, you ushered Billy into the house, triple checking that the front door was locked.
"What's going on?" Billy asked, watching you in concern.
You heard the microwave beeping insistently, so you lead Billy towards the kitchen, figuring you could kill two birds with one stone. "There was someone in my backyard," you explained, pointing out the window above the kitchen sink. You saw the mask again, this time hanging from the branch of a tree, and stumbled back into Billy. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him.
"It's alright," he said, keeping his voice level. "It's just a Halloween mask, right? Halloween's coming up and someone just probably left their mask in your tree to freak you out. Let me go check it out, okay?"
"No," you refused, turning in his arms to hold onto him. "It's a trap or at the very least a stupid idea. There was someone out there, Billy, I know it."
"Nothing's going to happen to me, okay? I'm just going to grab it and see if they left anything else behind. Lock the door behind me and I'll be right back."
You shook your head, but Billy still pushed away from you, leaving you standing in the middle of your kitchen while he unlocked your backdoor. You watched him as he crossed your backyard, easily plucking the mask from the tree, and turning back towards your house. You saw him turning the mask over in his hands, slipping a piece of paper out of the mask.
He knocked on the backdoor, waiting for you to unlock it to let him back in the house, and then showed you the note that had been left in the mask.
I'm watching you
"Y/N, what the hell is going on here?"
"I think it's the same person who's been calling me and stalking me. Billy," you said, moving to grab the note from him and brandishing it at him, as if he hadn't been the one to find it. "I'm scared. This guy, whoever he is, is messing with me. And I'm scared it's going to go past phone calls and watching my house. What if...," you trailed off, trying to steady your voice when it began to waver from fear. "What if they break in while my parents aren't here? What if they want to hurt me?"
"They won't," Billy assured you. "Not while I'm here."
You took a deep breath, working up the courage to ask Billy what you needed to.
"Would you...," you started, losing your nerve.
"Would I...?" Billy prompted, giving you an expectant look.
"Would you stay here? While my parents are out of town?"
"Y/N," Billy said, stepping into your space. "I'd love to." He bent forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead in reassurance, before giving you a hopeful grin.
Billy went around the house with you, checking that the doors and windows were all locked. You made another bag of popcorn and pulled Billy up to your room, propping your desk chair up against your bedroom door to give you a sense of security.
Billy led you towards your bed, waiting for you to get under the covers before he turned out your lights, leaving your bedroom lamp on so you wouldn’t get too freaked out. He grabbed your copy of Grease, knowing it was your ultimate comfort movie, and pushed it into your VCR. It wasn't long before Billy joined you under your blankets, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shooting you a pleased smirk.
This was totally new territory for you. Billy had been in your room and you had watched a movie with him before, but it had never been with the expectation that he would be staying the night with you. In your bed. In your empty house. Just the two of you.
You sang along softly to the songs, delighted when you realized Billy knew all the words to Summer Nights and didn't mind rewinding to watch Hopelessly Devoted to You in order to watch it twice, since it was your favorite part of the movie. By the time the movie was over, Billy was pressed up against your side, his arm around you, and your head on his shoulder.
Billy's fingers were tapping out a nervous rhythm against your side, prompting you to look up at him. You were so close to him, you could feel his breath on your face, and a thrilled shiver shot through you at the realization. 
"Thanks," you whispered, even though it was just the two of you alone in the house. "For being there for me. For always being there for me."
"Nowhere else I'd rather be than with you," he said, his eyes briefly glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. "Y/N, there's something I--"
You cut him off, hastily pressing your lips to Billy's. It felt like the only thing you were meant to do. Billy felt right, you told yourself. He was there for you for everything, and you had wanted him for so long. The fact that he was there to protect you from the phantoms of the night and dropped everything to be right there with you proved that he was the one for you.
Billy immediately pressed back against you, his arms tightening around you. "I got you," he murmured against your lips, his hands trailing down your sides. "I've always got you," he promised, before you shushed him, pulling him impossibly closer to you.
---
Billy let you lose yourself to him, because it was all he had wanted since he met you. You. Just you. And everything you could give him. He wanted your attention and your love and your trust. He wanted to have you in his life every day and he wanted to know everything on your mind and hear everything you could possibly say.
It had taken a little finessing to prove his worth, but he knew in the end you would come around. You would see he was right there all along, ready for you to see that he was perfect for you.
As you drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms, he reminded himself of something he needed to grab from downstairs before he went back to his apartment to pack a bag of clothes.
Even though he had you, he couldn't rule out the possibility that he would need his mask again.
Halloween was coming up, after all.
full prompt: could you if possible please write a slasher fic where billy hargrove is ghostface who is tormenting reader with eerie phonecalls to upset her just so he can comfort her as billy because they're really close as friends i.e mutually pining after each other but Billy's idea to get your affection is to protect you from danger, soothe your anxiety and stay over night with you for safety but obvs he doesn't want you in any real danger he just wants you to think your in danger so he dons the ghostface mask.
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live-the-fangirl-life · 2 years ago
Note
Since you are open for Halloween prompts, how about dialogue prompt #5: “I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep - don’t laugh at me! - can you please come over?” for Nessian! Bonus points if it's Cassian being the scaredy cat lol 😉
Scared, Sweetheart?
Nesta Archeron x Cassian
“I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep - don’t laugh at me! - can you please come over?”
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Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection
767 words
*******
She answered on the first ring.
“I’ve been gone less than three hours,” Nesta rolled her eyes and closed her book, making sure to mark her page before placing it on her lap. “You can’t tell me you miss me already.”
Cassian’s voice rang out clear from her speaker, as did his scoff. “Sweetheart, you should know by now that I always miss you.”
She hummed in affirmation and despite herself felt the corner of her mouth twitch up. “Did you call just to hear my voice, or did you have an actual reason?”
“Do I have to have a reason to call my girlfriend?” He asked almost indignantly, but she noticed that he avoided her question.
“No.” She shuffled to put her book on her coffee table and leaned against the arm of her sofa, glancing briefly into her kitchen to spot the flashing clock on her stove. It was late. Both she and Cassian had to work the next morning, hence why she’d opted not to stay the night at his place. She really should have gone to bed an hour ago but one minute she was picking up her book and the next she was a hundred pages deep. She should be asleep right now – so should Cassian. And while neither were strangers to the occasional late-night phone call, they generally respected each other’s schedules when it came to work. Meaning, she decided to push again for a straight answer. “But…”
He sighed. “I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep – don’t laugh.”
Her first snort was involuntary. The second one wasn’t.
He went on, serious but with a hint of pleading that only made her more amused. “Come over. Please.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he sounded offended. “Why do I want you to—”
“No, I mean why did you watch a horror movie?” She corrected with an eye roll. “You hate horror movies. You only tolerate them with me because I like them, and even then, you can’t go two seconds without holding onto me.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be holding onto you, horror movie or not. And don’t act like you don’t love it because I know you do.” He was right. “And I know that right now you’re rolling your eyes at me, but if I could see you then I’d see you biting your lip trying your best not to smile.”
Damn him. She released her lip from her teeth and doubled down on her questions. “Can we get back to the reason you decided to watch a film that you hate?”
“I don’t hate them,” he argued again. “No, I love ‘em. The scarier, the better. All those creepy-ass demons, deranged serial killers, and bloody massacres, what’s not to love?”
Nesta huffed a laugh and shook her head as she stood from the sofa and stretched, groaning as her stiff joints cracked. “And yet, you watch gory war movies without a problem.”
He sputtered for only a moment. “That gore is historical and generally accurate. If I’m watching one of those and someone’s bleeding out it's not because an undead, satanical, nightmare-inducing creature is making a meal out of them.”
“Mhm, so you admit horror movies give you nightmares?”
Nesta waited as she searched for a clean pair of dress pants she could wear into the office tomorrow, carefully folding them and placing them in a bag before aiming for her bathroom to collect her small go-bag of toiletries.
“Irrelevant,” Cassian finally answered, and she could hear rustling in the background as if he was settling into bed. “Are you coming over or not?”
They both knew she was.
So instead of answering, she asked another question, still not understanding why he would not only choose a horror movie but then watch it all the way through. “You did know what movie you were playing, right?”
More rustling.
“Yes, and?”
She thought she heard the faintest trace of a smile in his voice which stopped her in her tracks as she neared the front door.
“Did you watch that movie just to have a reason to call me back over there tonight?”
“Yes, and?”
She absolutely heard the grin in his words this time. Leaning her forehead against her door and loosing a long-suffering sigh, she tried and failed to hold back a smile.
“You’re an idiot.” Nesta stepped out of her apartment and locked the door behind her.
“Your idiot.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, half grumbling half chuckling, with another roll of her eyes as she walked towards her car, “my idiot.”
*****
Taglist:
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inej-ruination-ghafa · 2 years ago
Text
EIGHTEEN - E.M
PART 2; DATE ME TO SCARE THEM
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Warnings: mentions of murder, character death, depression, ptsd, attacking people, talks of bullying, police
Summary: everything you knew had been thrown out of the window by one phone call and now you have to find your boyfriend and prove that he didn't kill your best friend.
Wordcount: 3.7k
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You woke up that morning, getting changed for work when you heard the phone ring. You walked over, picking it up and answering.
"Hey Y/N, it's Wayne, Wayne Munson," he said and you nodded, wondering what was going on. 
"Hey Mr Munson, what's up?" You asked, a bad feeling in your stomach about this. 
"I'm gonna need you to come round now, is that okay?" He asked, voice clearly shaky. 
"Is something wrong Mr Munson? Has something happened to Eddie?" Your voice was clearly tense as you asked the questions. 
You heard a crackly sigh over the phone, "you just have to come by, I promise, I'll explain it in a minute," he said before hanging up. 
When you got there you were stopped by the police who asked you who you were, "I'm friends with the Munson, I need to get in," you explained and after a few seconds, the officers let you in. 
You rushed out of your car towards Wayne who pulled you in for a hug, "Where's Eddie?" You asked, voice shaky as you looked at him. 
That's when you saw a news reporter towards the left of the trailer, "Hawkins high student has been killed-" and after that you just zoned out, eyes brimming with tears as you looked at Wayne, mouth slightly agape. 
You looked over to an ambulance and then to the house where a body was being carried out under a white cloth. You rushed over and before you could see anything, you noticed that on the hand hanging out was a distinct bracelet you would have known anywhere.
You turned back to Wayne, "Chrissy?" You asked, tears spilling over your cheeks as he nodded. 
"Y/N Wheeler?" Sheriff Powell asked and you nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks
"That's me," you said, looking up at him, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You were so worried about what was going on and you had just found out your best friend had died. 
“We're gonna need to talk to you,” Powell said and you sighed, nodding your head as you walked away from Wayne and towards the cop car with the two officers. They stopped right outside, “We just have a few questions for you,”
"How long have you been dating Eddie Munson?" Calahan asked and you sighed. 
You fiddled with the ring on your necklace that Eddie had given you, "Uh, just under five months, where the hell is he?" You asked, getting straight to the point. 
Powell chuckled at your audacity, “That's what we were hoping for you to tell us, he hasn't been seen since last night after he left school after the game,” he explained. 
“I'm gonna need to know what happened, otherwise I can't help,” you stated, knowing that you wanted to know what your boyfriend was being suspected for before you accidentally incriminated him. 
Calahan and Powell looked at one another, sharing a look before the new chief of police looked at you, “This morning Wayne Munson reported the dead girl's body in his trailer. He said that his nephew hasn't been seen since last night so we suggested he call you, that's all we know right now but he's currently the main suspect in this homicide,” he explained and the tears burned in the back of your eyes. 
Just the idea of your boyfriend killing someone, especially Chrissy who you had known since you were able to walk, made you feel sick to your stomach. You took a deep breath, shaking your head. 
"Homicide? He's not a killer, my boyfriend is not a killer," you exclaim, tears welling up in your eyes, "He-he buys my mum flowers every time he comes round and he cares for me when nobody else does. Eddie Munson might be a 20 year old high school student but he's sweet and holds my hand when I have nightmares and wouldn't hurt a fly," 
Calahan places a hand on your shoulder, “We’re sorry, and we know youve gone through a lot in the last few years but we want to help him,” he explained. 
He was right, you had gone through a lot in the past few years but they would never know the extent of it. They knew that you knew Barb and Bob and Billy and Heather so many of the people who had died in the mall fire. They knew that you had been to too many funerals in the last four years but they didn't understand why. They didn't know that you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying because the images of all of their mangled bodies kept you up at night. They didn't know that you sobbed into your pillow as your boyfriend helped you close because not even he knew the full extent of your nightmares. 
You scoffed, “You don't want to help him, you think he did this. You think he killed Chrissy,” you stated, a tone of anger in your voice as you looked at them, not understanding how they could just jump to this - reasonable - conclusion so quickly.
“He's the only suspect as of now but we will be investigating for others. We will be telling Mr and Mrs Cunningham soon,” he stated. 
"Chrissy Cunningham is one of my closest friends," you said, your voice breaking as you looked at them, "He wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't," 
“Do you know anyone else who could be a suspect, anyone who didn't like Chrissy or had seen her last?” Calahan asked, looking for any leads. 
“Everyone loved Chrissy. But uh, her boyfriend, Jason Carver was the one who would have seen her last. They went to Billys for a house party,” 
“You didn't go?” Powell asked. 
You shook your head, “I found the guy with a bullet in his skull, I’d rather not go back there any time soon,” you stated, looking down at your shoes. 
Powell and Calahan looked at one another, “Well, if you get any leads on where your boyfriend is or if he contacts you, please let us know. It would greatly help with the investigation and it will help him prove his innocence,” they said and you walked away. 
You knew that they didt think he was innocent. You knew that they saw him as trailer trash, the freak, the 20 year old who is still in high school, the leader of a D&D campaign that everyone sees as demonic. Nobody seemed to believe that he was innocent and that really hurt. 
The second you got out, you collapsed into Wayne's arms, sobbing into his shoulder, "I'm so worried for him," You said, sniffling. 
He held you tight. He was worried for his nephew as well. He had never seen the boy so happy but whenever he was around you, his face lit up and he did everything right. Wayne knew that his nephew wouldnt go ahead and ruin that future just to murder some girl, there had to be more to it. 
“Calahan,” you called out and he turned to you, “Can I grab something from his room, i was gonna pick it up today but, you know,” your voice trailed off, like you didnt want to admit thaat he was the main suspect in a murder case. 
He sighed, “It's still an active crime scene, I'll come with you but just, don't touch too much,” he said, escorting the girl inside. 
You stood in his room, walking over and running your hand over his guitar, "What have you done Ed?" You asked yourself. 
Calahan felt bad for you as he stood in the doorway of the room. He could see the pictures of you and eddie that he had pinned to the wall next to the large mirror opposite his bed and he realised that although this boy was suspected for a murder, he was still just a boy.
You reached over, digging through one of his drawers and pulling out one of his jackets, pulling it against your chest. You took a deep breath before putting it back, grabbing a cardigan that you'd left here and turning around to Calahan, “i've got it,” she said and he escorted her back out.  
"I have to go to work Mr Munson, will you let me know if anything else happens?" You asked and he nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
"You be safe okay," he said and you nodded. 
You drove down to the video store, parking up outside and placing your head on the steering wheel, letting out a sob. You just wanted to cry, and normally you'd cry into his arms, but he wasn't here now. 
You knew that there was something else going on here, he wouldn't hurt Chrissy and you knew that for a fact. Something was going very wrong and you suspected he was being framed but that made no sense as to why he'd do that. 
The other issue that posed him was the fact that he was currently missing. It hurt you that he hadn't called you to let you know that he was okay, yhat he had run away somewhere. He didn't even come to your house and hide there, letting you know what had happened. 
But then you thought, maybe if someone had hurt Chrissy, someone would have hurt Eddie too. You let out another sob as you thought of your boyfriend in the same way as your friend, his eyes ripped out and his bones broken into pieces. It hurts your heart to even envision going to another funeral. 
Once you had stopped crying, you looked into the wind mirror and reapplied your makeup, getting ready for your shift which started in 10 minutes. 
When you looked presentable, you look at yourself before stepping out of the car, walking into the video store. Robin, Max, Steve and Dustin were all huddled around the counter in the middle of the room, the group on the phones and calling people.
"Hey guys, I might have a lead," Max said. 
"On what?" you asked and they all turned to you. They had tried calling you earlier but you hadn't picked up your phone, probably because you were being interviewed for your murder suspect of a boyfriend. 
They all rushed towards you, "We need to talk," Robin said, a sad look on her face as she looked at her friend. 
"If it's about Eddie, I already know," you stated and the group looked at you confused, clearly there was information that you had that they didn't have and vice versa. 
"I went to his house, the police stopped me. They think he killed Chrissy, sure, people think he's weird and he does drugs but he's so sweet, he'd never hurt her," you explained, trying not to get upset again as you talked to them but Robin clearly noticed that she was upset, placing a hand on her shoulder. 
“Last night, i saw him and Chrissy Cunningham walk into his trailer and then around half an hour later he ran out, getting in his car and driving away,” max explained. 
You let out a breath that you didn't even realise you were holding, he was alive. That had to mean something. But then a sharp pang of betrayal hit your chest as you realised he had not come to you for help and had just run away. He could be anywhere, cold, hungry, injured. 
“God,” you muttered, taking a deep breath as you fiddled with the ring around your neck, something had to be really wrong. 
“And the power went out in the trailer park a few minutes earlier,” Max stated. 
You froze, heart speeding up at the insinuation that it had something to do with the upside down. It was a reasonable explanation but not for Eddie, he was still in danger. They had all dealt with this before but now someone was dead, this never happened that early into the issues. And why Chrissy and not eddie?
"Well we have a lead to where he might be hiding, Reefer Rick, do you know him?" Dustin asked. 
"I recognise the name, I don't know where he'd be though," you explained. You knew that he was Eddie's dealer but you wouldn't often do drugs so you didn't know where he was, “Plus, I thought he was in prison,”
Then robin had a genius idea. She rushed to the counter and checked through the film database. They searched up all the different Ricks that had accounts at the film store and eventually narrowed it down to one person. 
They checked the address and it was near lovers lake, in the middle of nowhere, "It's a perfect place to hide," Robin said and they nodded. 
You all got in Steve's car, leaving your car in the parking lot to pick up later, and began the drive to reefer ricks. Your leg was bouncing up and down from how nervous you were and it all became real. 
What would you say to Eddie when you got there? That chrissy was dead and that everyone thought that it was probably him? Would you just hold him in your arms and tell him everything was okay? 
You were feeling sick as all the ideas rushed through your head and before you even noticed, you were parking up and the sun had set, meaning you were all hoding your flashlights and searching through the dark 
"Hey guys, what about that shed?" you suggested, knowing that the man who owned this house was locked in prison. 
"Hello, is anyone home?" Dustin asked when they got in, slowly creeping through. 
You all searched around, desperate to find him and prove his innocence. You wanted to hear his side of the story, knowing that there was something big going on that none of you knew about yet. 
"Look, there's food here. Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran," Max suggested when she saw the food on the side. 
"Don't worry, Steve will get him with his oar," Dustin said sacractsixally, gesturing to where Steve was poking the tarp with an oar. 
"I know you're being funny Henderson but considering everyone in this room had nearly died a hundred times personally, I don't find it fu-" Steve started to explain before something leapt out, grabbing Steve and pressing him against the 
Eddie holds knife to Steves neck, presses him against the wall
"Eddie, stop, honey stop," you pleaded. At the sound of your voice he turned back, eyes wide as they flickered between you and Dustin. 
He looked completely out of it, like he had been terrified and paranoid for the last 24 hours and didn't know what to do. 
"It's me, it's us. Look, it's Dustin. It's just Steve okay, he's not gonna hurt you," you tried to reason with him but you knew he was in a state and wasn't going to respond well. 
"Steve, why don't you drop the oar," Dustin suggested and Steve nodded, dropping the oar. At the sound of it clattering against the wooden floor, Eddie pressed the knife tighter onto Steve's neck.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly as he looked back, brown eyes meeting yours. 
"Eddie, it's just us. You know my best friend Robin, and our friend Max, she lives near you, and that's just Steve. He's an asshole but he's my friend," you tried to explain, desperate as you took a few hesitant steps towards him, "Please let go Ed,"
"We're on your side," Dustin promised. 
Eddie looked over at you as you stood next to him, "It's okay, let go," you said, a soft smile on your face.
Now that he could realise that you were real and not just part of his delusions, he let go of the knife and Steve took a step away, waking back to the group. 
You just pulled Eddie into your arms, his arms wrapping tight around you as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent of familiarity and safety. 
He had been so scared about everything and you were always on his mind. What if they thought you were in on it? What if whatever hurt Chrissy got you too? The ideas had been swirling through his mind for the last day and it was driving him mad. 
"It's okay, it's okay. I've got you, you're safe," you promised him as you took his hand, helping him sit down on one of the planks of wood. You sat down next to him, holding onto his hand as he rested them in his lap. 
You recognised that vacant look in his eyes, having adorned the same look after witnessing all of the deaths that you had. You remember the shock and the PTSD of all the events you'd witnessed and knew what to do. 
You had a soft tone to your voice as you spoke to him, trying to reassure him that he was okay, "Eddie baby, we just want to talk. What happened to Chrissy?" You asked. 
Amongst all the other terrible things that had been happening, you had forgotten that it had been Chrissy that had died. Your friend chrissy who you'd known since you were a child, Chrissy who was the only one on the cheerleading team to accept you. 
"You won't believe me. I messed up so bad, we should have left last night, after the game," he explained, his words almost sounding like a choked sob as he looked at you. 
God, he just wanted to grab your hand and run away from this mess, get as far away from Hawkins, Indiana as possible and leave it all behind. 
"Try us, I've got a lot of explaining to do myself," You said. 
He explained what had happened up until that point, that he was dealing to her. He apologised for that as well but you didn't care, his dealing habits weren't any of your business. 
"Her body just like, lifted up into the air and uh, she just hung there. I tried, but her bones they were-" he stopped, choking on his words as he looked down at his lap. 
You rubbed the pad of your thumb over his knuckles, trying to soothe him, "It's okay, you go at your own pace," you said, a reassuring smile on your face. 
He took a deep and shaky breath before continuing, "Her bones were breaking and her eyes. It, it was like there was something inside her head, pulling," he sighed, shaking his head at his action, "I didn't know what to do so I ran away, I ran as far away as possible," 
The group was listening intently, having all experienced weird and wacky things in the town of Hawkins and this didn't faze them too bad. 
He scoffed, looking up at the group, "You all think I'm crazy right," he stayed 
"No, we don't think your crazy Ed," you said, voice calm. 
"Don't bushit me sweetheart," he said loudly, his sudden outburst making everyone jump a little bit, "I know how this sounds. God, your friends were right about me. Your parents, everyone, they were right," 
"They weren't, I believe you, we believe you," you promised, tears in your eyes as you looked at him. 
"What I'm about to tell you might be a but difficult to take. You know how people say Hawkins is cursed, they're not way off.  There is another world, a world beneath Hawkins and sometimes it bleeds into ours," Dustin explained. 
Eddie sat there, his brow furrowed as he looked at the fifteen year old, "Like ghosts and shit?" He questioned. 
"There's some things worse than ghosts," Max stated. 
They explained it all, about the 
"If they're back again, we need to know," Dustin said, knowing that this could be bad, really bad. 
"We need you to tell us if there was anything weird. Like dust particles, red lights, uh, was she really cold to the touch," you tried to suggest 
"She wouldn't move. It was like she was in a tatchell or something, or under a curse," he explained, looking up at Dustin. 
"Vecna's Curse," He stated. 
"Like your d&d campaign?" You questioned, remember him setting it up. 
"Waut, whos vecna," Steve asked. 
"An undead creature of great power, a dark wizard," Dustin explained, and the group tried to devise a plan. While they were talking, you sat with Eddie. 
"I'll sneak you home, you just come with me for tonight," you suggested, placing one hand on his cheek. He leaned into the warmth, his smile still gone from his face. 
"I can't get you involved," he said, already feeling guilty enough for what had happened to your best friend under his watch, "Your parents are probably wondering where you are,"
"I don't care, I don't want you to be alone," you stated. He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your lips, leaning into the touch. 
“Fine,” he whispered, “And you can explain to me all about what you've gone through, okay,” 
You joined your pinky finger with his, sealing your promise as you leant into him, ready to explain the last 3 years to him. 
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Series Masterlist Part 3
A/N, I loved this chapter and I cant wait to write more. I probably won't get it finished by the time the new volume comes out but that's soon so I'm excited for that as well.
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Tag list:
If you want to be added just message me, send me an ask or comment, I don't mind
@shinydixon @nightless @paola-carter @httpscarlet-witch
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deanstead · 4 years ago
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Jay Halstead Masterlist
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* = smut
(list got too long so it’s now under a cut!)
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full list here
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Where Have You Been (completed) - Reader makes a big move to Chicago in the hopes of starting afresh but soon learns it isn’t that easy to outrun the past.
Pieces (completed) - After Y/N finds out her husband is cheating on her, she finds herself having to pick up the remaining pieces of her life and create a new life for both herself and her daughter. Despite her resolution that she will never trust anyone again, the reappearance of the green-eyed stranger might just be the thing that Y/N needs to help her move forward.
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Murder Next Door (completed) -  When one of Jay’s neighbors is found dead, both he and Y/N find themselves right smack in the middle of what could turn out to be a very dangerous situation.
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I Am The Apocalypse (Mini Episode Rewrite) - reader goes to Med when an armed patient forces the ED into a lockdown
Safe Now - reader has a nightmare and only one person can make her feel safe again
Trust - reader is upset when she realises Jay doesn’t trust her
Under Wraps - Reader and Jay have a night out with the team, while trying to keep their relationship a secret
For You - Jay has to prove to Reader that he’s serious about her before she’ll open her heart up to him
Hidden Feelings - Jay gets worried when Reader pulls away from him
Glad You’re Safe - Takes place during the Infection three-part crossover, where Reader gets exposed to the infection while responding to a call
Lean On Me - Jay shows up at reader’s house hurt, until things take a slightly different and surprising turn.
Love You For You - Reader has to come clean to Jay about what happened to her in the past
One Plus One - Reader gets hurt on a case and Jay gets surprising news
Somebody’s Watching - A serial killer case hits a little too close to home and Jay gets worried.
Hard For Me - After a big fight with Jay, Reader gets a call that sends her running to the hospital
What The Hell - Inspired by Avril Lavigne’s ‘What The Hell’. Reader gets tired of Jay being too much of a boy scout and hits the town
I’ll Keep You Safe - Jay rushes to Reader’s after receiving a phone call from her, where she sounds terrified.
In My Eyes - Reader gets upset when she thinks Jay isn’t standing up for her (PlusSize!Reader)
Protective - Kelly’s a little protective over his sister before he witnesses Jay be just as protective over Reader.
In Trouble - Intelligence races against time to find Jay when he’s kidnapped while on the phone with Y/N.
*best part of my day is you -  Jay shows reader how he can turn any day good. 
Distress -  An explosion causes Reader to experience flashbacks in the middle of a bust and only Jay can reach out to her to calm her down.
On A Picnic - Reader gets harassed while at the park with Jay.
Every Step - Reader and Jay have a casual relationship until she gets some surprising news, which will potentially change everything.
*Thin Line - Jay finds out there’s a very thin line between love and hate.
Black Or White (SPN x CPD Crossover) -  Reader returns to Chicago for the first time in many years, this time with the Winchesters, to investigate what looks to be something up their alley and ends up having to work with an old friend to figure out what exactly they are up against. (Jay x Friend!Reader)
home with you - After getting home from the hospital after a serious injury, Jay has to remind her to take things slow.
Taken -  During an ambush, Reader gets taken and now, Jay and Intelligence have to race to find her.
Answer - Reader turns to her brother’s girlfriend when she needs help deciding what to say to Jay after he asks her out on a date.
down the aisle -  Reader turns to the only person she can think of to walk her down the aisle for her big day with Jay.
not meant to be - Reader finally works up the courage to tell Jay her true feelings but chances upon something that changes everything.
False Alarm -  When Reader experiences uncomfortable sensations in the middle of the night, Jay takes her to Med just to make sure everything’s alright.
Triggers -  Jay experiences a PTSD episode in the middle of the night while at Reader’s place and Kelly has to intervene to help.
*Art -  Reader struggles with anxiety and insomnia while preparing for a big exhibition, until it gets too much and Jay has to intervene.
Invasion - When someone breaks into your home at night, Jay has to find a way to keep his family safe.
Lockdown -  The hospital goes into lockdown when a potentially dangerous patient disappears from his room, along with his attending doctor.
Words I Couldn’t Say -  When Y/N gets tired of seeing Jay get hurt from his relationships, she accidentally lets slip the one thing she thought she’d never tell him.
Ten Years - A case uncovers old secrets and solves a 10-year-old mystery in Reader’s past.
As Long As I’m Here -  Y/N feels her world shift when a regular day gets turned upside down. Meanwhile, Jay has to find a way to do his job and keep his family safe.
why didn’t you tell me? -  Jay comes home early to find out that Y/N was injured while he was away.
Everyday is Valentine’s with you -  After being forced to cancel your Valentine's date because of a cold, Jay decides to bring Valentine's to you instead.
blind trust -  When Jay’s suspected of shooting an unarmed man during a shootout, the team takes it into their own hands to find evidence to help clear Jay.
Little Things -  In the midst of an unresolved cold war with Jay, Y/N partners up with Adam on a stakeout and Jay is less than happy.
never splitting up again -  Jay and Y/N split up on a chase, leaving Y/N in a precarious situation.
that one dark memory -  Y/N comes face to face with a nightmare from her past while out on what was supposed to just be a routine questioning.
Trauma Memory -  When a trauma memory hits Y/N in the middle of the night, Jay is there to make sure she knows she’s safe (tw: past trauma, molestation)
A Step Back - Y/N initiates a break when she feels that she’s the only one trying to keep their relationship afloat.
Back To You -  Despite hooking up a few times when she returns to Chicago, Y/N has always kept her true feelings for Jay a secret. But when Y/N comes back to Chicago to explore a job opportunity and spots Jay with someone, she’s no longer sure if taking the Chicago job is a good idea.
Right Time, Wrong Place -  When Y/N comes to Chicago to accept a job offer, she finds herself stuck in a dangerous situation with Jay. As Kelly works to get Stella’s best friend out, Y/N and Jay try to navigate the situation they find themselves in.
Ride -  Jay comes home to find Y/N in a less than ideal mood, so the next day he decides to take her out for a spin.
Snowed In -  Jay takes Y/N on a short getaway, but a snowstorm hits unexpectedly, putting them in a dangerous position.
Private Life -  When a rumor puts you under the spotlight, Jay makes a suggestion to try to keep the situation under control.
Change -  Y/N starts college, nervous about a new environment but a surprise encounter gives her new hope for that fresh start. (CollegeAU)
Christmas Surprise -  Y/N is pleasantly surprised when she opens the door on Christmas Eve.
Unknown Threat - When Y/N walks in on a horrific scene in her own house, Jay is determined to find out who's responsible and keep her safe.
Mistaken -  As Will finds himself dealing with an unwelcome presence in his life, you disappear in the middle of shift.
Home -  Jay notices something is wrong with Y/N's mood over the phone
Low Effort -  Y/N gets a surprise visit, which triggers some unpleasant symptoms
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lover-of-skellies · 2 years ago
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Fear of the Dark
Since I wrote a couple pieces for Lyzer/Sleep Paralysis Demon!Nightmare, I thought it might be cool to do something similar for Figment!Dust and Figment!Killer. This specific one is for Figment!Killer. Idk how similar the style is to the way I wrote the stuff for Lyzer, but eh. I spent two hours writing and it was like 3:30am when I finished, so yeah
Summary: Your partner begins picking up more shifts at work, leaving you home alone more often than you would've liked. Things are fine for a little while, but when an unseen guest begins attempting to get your attention, you make the fatal mistake of ignoring him every step of the way. Needless to say, there's nothing he hates more than being ignored
Small warning for implied body horror at one point. It's very brief and not much detail is used, but still. There's also a bit of sleep paralysis too, since yes,, I gave Killer and Dust that ability. They're not strong enough to use it to kill anyone, but that doesn't stop them. They just have to get creative with how they kill. Reader doesn't die in this, but,,,,, some stuff happens that could be considered build up to that
As you laid in bed, you couldn't help but blame yourself for the situation that you'd found yourself in. It all started so simple. A bit odd and seemingly random, sure, but... simple. Fate came knocking on your door, and like a fool, you'd answered it. 
It was a sunny afternoon. Your partner had just left for work. You weren't fond of the idea of being left home alone all day, but you'd been managing alright thus far. It'd began with your lights. They had started flickering, despite the bulbs having just been changed. You'd even called an electrician to see what might've caused the flickering, and he was unable to find a reason for it, either. You'd decided to simply try ignoring it, telling yourself that it was probably a faulty wire or something; your house was old, so if there were wires that needed to be replaced here and there, you honestly wouldn't be too surprised. 
And then the drawings appeared, stuck all around your home. They were messy, like drawings done by a child, and while you found it odd, you brushed it off, assuming it was some sort of prank that your partner wanted to pull on you. You'd confronted them about it, bringing out a shoebox that you'd started storing the pictures in, and your partner denied everything. Fearing that there may be a squatter living in your home somewhere like you'd seen in movies, you'd called the police and explained the situation to them, pleading with them to come check your house. You kept your box of drawings as evidence, and when the police finally came by, you waited on your porch for them to finish their search.
As you'd started to expect, they returned with the declaration that your home was free of squatters, as all possible entrance points had been properly sealed off. You asked them to take the box of drawings in hopes that maybe the intruder had left some fingerprints behind. While they seemed skeptical, they complied, taking the box and leaving you alone in your home. In the coming days, your partner had begun picking up more shifts at work, meaning that you were alone more now than you had been before. It grew lonely quicker than you'd like to admit, and you turned to your streaming services and the internet to entertain you most of the time. You weren't a people person, so you hadn't felt inclined to go to the library or the park, or even for a walk to that little ice cream shop on the corner. Wherever there were people, you made a conscious effort to avoid them, despite your increasing loneliness. 
There were no more drawings for what felt like ages, and then it worsened. You'd started hearing voices, and no matter how thoroughly you checked your surroundings, you never found any trace of another person's presence. You tried your hardest to ignore it, passing it off as either a lack of sleep getting the best of you or your isolation from others starting to mess with your head. Sometimes you figured it might've been both of those things. The voices seemed to grow agitated when you ignored them, but you continued to do so anyway for the sake of your sanity. 
The first night he made contact was one when your partner was away, pulling yet another double shift. You'd been lying in bed, trying your best to fall asleep, when the voice appeared, murmuring right beside you, "Hey, pssst. Open your eyes. Look at me." You ignored him, letting out a deep sigh and instead rolling over, turning your back to where his voice had just been. There was a moment of silence before he hissed. A hand could be felt latching onto your arm, and some unseen force suddenly shoved you back down onto your back. You let out a startled sound, your eyes instinctively shooting open, and from right above you, he spoke again, his voice a purr, "There we go... That's better." A floating target began to fade into existence, and you watched with wide, horrified eyes as the hand that'd been holding your arm began to slowly appear and solidify as well. It was somehow darker than the shadows around your room, and the longer it touched you, the hotter it became. When it began to burn, you attempted to scream, and your uninvited guest chuckled, moving his free hand and pressing a single finger over your mouth, stealing away your voice, "Shhhh. There's no need for that. I know it hurts, and I know you wanna scream, but... I'm afraid that'll have to wait." 
He leaned over you, the only identifiable facial feature of his being a single white ring where you'd assumed his eyes would be. Withdrawing his hand from up by your face, he hummed, staring at you for another moment before speaking again, his voice almost carrying a hint of sadness, "This wouldn't have happened if you paid attention to me... If you didn't ignore me, we wouldn't be here right now." You wanted to question him, and you tried, but it was in vain. Your body refused to move, and you couldn't produce a single sound. Tears pricked at your eyes when his touch began to burn even hotter than before, and you silently wept, forced to endure it in silence. The figure's voice lowered an octave or two, and he hissed, "This is your fault. I tried to get your attention in the nicest way possible, but it wasn't good enough. You really shouldn't have ignored me. You shouldn't have been such an IDIOT." 
Without warning, he seemed to snap, drawing his free arm back, and then plunging his hand into your chest, "If you didn't ignore me like THEM, then I wouldn't have to be doing this." His hand closed around something inside you and your eyes widened. The air was torn from your lungs, and when he began to withdraw that something from your chest, your body gave a very noticeable, very hard jerk, and you wanted to scream more now than you had before. Your heart raced and you began to silently sob, images of your loved ones flashing through your mind. Your stomach flipped, and the figure gave a soft scoff. Releasing your arm, he reached up to the floating target shape, disconnecting the outer ring.
Your body continued to jerk and twitch as if you were falling, and he only watched you, his silhouette suggesting that his only reaction was a tilt of the head. Uncurling his other hand, he revealed something that was oddly heart-shaped and that cast a faint glow. You watched, still lying helpless beneath him, as he lifted the heart shaped object, and when he slipped it inside the disconnected ring from the target, the falling sensation grew more intense. A scream finally managed to tear itself from your throat as you continued trying to thrash around, and the figure chuckled. The endless falling continued for what felt like a century, until he let out a deep sigh and returned what you'd begun to think was your soul. You gasped for air, trying desperately to calm your racing heart, and he hummed, "I got some other business to attend to, but don't you worry your pretty little head. I'll be back for you as soon as possible."
Light flooded the room and he vanished before your eyes. You shot upright into a sitting position, sobbing uncontrollably. When you felt a pair of arms gently envelope you, you jerked, crying out in surprise. Your partner had just arrived home from work, and the instant you were able to recognize them, you began to babble. They tried to make sense of what you were saying, clearly at a loss but still trying to understand nonetheless. Trying to make you feel as safe as possible throughout the ordeal, they'd started working from home and staying by your side as much as they could. You'd been refusing to sleep, and you'd been adamant that the lights stay on. Despite their concerns and complaints about your electricity bill skyrocketing as a result of this, they continued trying their hardest to be supportive. 
This went on for a week. Soon enough, one week turned into two, and then two turned into three. You and your partner were both exhausted, and your patience with things was dwindling. There were some days when you argued and genuinely couldn't stand each other, but you tried your best to apologize and make up for whatever had happened between you. You really were grateful for them and everything they'd done for you, and you made sure to remind them of that as much as possible. 
However, your three-week streak came to an abrupt halt. There'd been a thunderstorm that succeeded in knocking out all of your power at once, and you nearly screamed when darkness consumed your home. Your partner got out of bed, intent on going to find some candles and flashlights. You begged them not to go, but they promised to be back as soon as possible. Terrified beyond belief, you sat up, wrapped in blankets and on the verge of tears as you shook, trying to keep watch over your surroundings. Your partner returned, just as they'd promised, and you should've been relieved. You wanted to be, but you couldn't help the sinking feeling that something was wrong.
Without a single word, they'd laid back down beside you, a far off look on their face. You asked them about the candles and flashlights, but you were met with silence. You'd begun reaching out to touch them, but to your horror, you were roughly shoved down onto your back. Calling out to your partner for help, you immediately began to weep at the revelation that you were unable to speak. Just like that one time before. Looking at your partner, you watched, your heart sinking when their body jerked and twitched, and a sickening chorus of cracking sounds could be heard. A red target shape began to glow above their chest, and that voice from before chuckled, "I told you I'd be back."
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majahu · 3 years ago
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Scream: Ski Trip
Chapter 3: Blue’s Your Color
Chapter 2
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Word Count: 1,332
You didn't go to school the next morning, still shaken up from your encounter with the masked killer the previous night. You rolled over, rubbing your eyes and trying to make out the numbers on your alarm clock: 10:35 am. You yawned, sitting up. You weren't sure what time you feel asleep, but surprisingly that was the last night in a while you hadn't woken up terrified from a nightmare. Walking into your bathroom and flipping on the light, you stared at your face in the mirror, mascara had settled under your eyes and you had a severe case of bed-head. You squeezed a blue and white swirl of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and stuck it into your mouth. You weren't sure what time Billy left last night, but you were thankful he stayed until you fell asleep, sure that if he wasn't there thoughts of ghostface would've kept you up all night. You spit into the sink and, spiraling down towards the drain you noticed some red spots in the sea of foam. You must've bit your cheek while you slept last night.
Pulling on your green Gap brand sweatshirt, you went downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a container of rolled oats out of the pantry. As you boiled water for your oatmeal, you noticed a bright pink sticky note on the counter—a note from your parents:
Try to relax today.
We love you; call if you need anything.
- Mom and Dad
You knew your parents were worried about you but there was nothing you could do now. You had answered all the questions the police asked you last night and had given them a statement. Now, all you could do was wait for the blood sample to be processed and hope to God they found a match.
Pouring hot water over your bowl of oats and stirring, your thoughts drifted to your friends at school. Would they wonder why you weren't there? Did Billy tell you what happened? You were sure you'd get a phone call from Tatum or Sidney as soon as school let out.
When your oatmeal was done, you brought a tray over to your couch, flicking on the tv and scrolling through the channels. Purposefully ignoring the news channels you settled on one that was airing old episodes of Saved by the Bell: College.
That's how you spent the rest of your day, curled up on the couch watching reruns of shows you had already seen, trading one snack for another. It was boring, but still better than being at school considering how Casey and Steve's killer was still at large and was, potentially, one of your fellow classmates. You weren't sure why the killer had chosen to attack you, but then again you didn't know why he had killed Casey or Steve either.
You looked over at the clock: 3:45 pm. You were sure you'd get a call from one of your friends any time now. As if on cue, the phone rang.
Your heart pounded and an anxious feeling stirred in your stomach. Come on (Y/N), it's not gonna be him.
It's probably Sidney or Tatum or Randy, hell, it has a better chance of being Dewey than that masked lunatic.
Exhaling, you picked up the phone, "Hello?"
"Hey, (Y/N)." The voice on the other end said; unmistakably Stu Macher. “Um, hey Stu” you hadn’t talked much to Tatum’s boyfriend the past couple of days, still kind of mad about how casually he treated Casey and Steve’s deaths. “You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Stu frowned. “No. I’m just processing a lot.”
“Billy told me. Are you okay?” You weren’t sure how to respond to this question. Physically you were fine, but mentally your encounter would be a lot to come back from. Every time you thought about it, a chill ran down your spine. “I’m just shaken up is all.”
“Well,” you could practically hear Stu smile, “do I have some news to cheer you up or not?”
“Yeah?” You said, curious now as to what the wannabe jock was planning. “No school!” He hollered through the phone.
“What? Why? Did something happen?” “Oh, well uh- Sidney ran into our little friend in the bathroom today. Made an epic escape though!” “Stu!” You gasped in shock. “That isn’t something to joke about, is she okay? Did she get hurt?”
“She’s fine.” Stu drawled, already seeming bored of the topic. “Is- is the ski trip still on?” You said, feeling kind of stilly to still be asking about it, but you and your friends really needed an escape. “Yep! But they’re checking everyone’s bags before we get on the bus, making sure the killer isn’t one of us” Stu said in a mock-spooky voice. You rolled your eyes, “enough with the jokes, Stu.”
“Hey, I can’t help it, humor is my coping mechanism.”
“I’ll see you Friday.” You said, hanging up the phone.
Maybe you’d invite Sidney and Tatum over tonight; you were sure it would be comforting for all of you to spend some time together. Hopefully uninterrupted by your ‘little friend’ as Stu had affectionately referred to the killer.
Sidney and Tatum were laying on your bedroom floor reading a magazine you had picked up at the store as you sat at your desk, painting your toenails baby blue to match your freshly done manicure.
“I can’t believe this is happening” Sidney said, burying her face in her hands, “school isn’t even safe!” Clearly your ‘girl’s night’ had not been enough to distract her from what happened this morning. “Which is why we’re getting away for the weekend!” Tatum said, smiling, “no more psycho killers! Just us and our boy toys,” she winked, “Hey, maybe (Y/N) and Meeks will even get together!”
“Oh shut up!” You rolled your eyes, throwing a cotton ball at her head. “We all know he has a thing for Sid anyway” you grinned. With all the trauma you three had been through, it was nice to laugh for once. For a second it seemed like you could forget you were being taunted by your classmates’ murderer.
And then the phone rang.
You and Sidney jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. Tatum stood up, “I’ll get it”. She walked over to your desk, picking up the receiver and holding it to her ear. Someone said something on the other end and she held the phone out so you and Sidney could hear.
“Having a sleep over?” The low raspy voice sounded from the receiver, “without me, I’m offended!”
“What do you want?!” Tatum shouted, more fed up with the situation than afraid.
“I don’t want anything from you girls, not tonight anyway. Don’t worry, I won’t be checking in on you. Besides, I don’t wanna put my Sid through too much in one day; where’s the fun in that?” he laughed.
“Fucking creep.” Tatum murmured.
“And (Y/N). That nail color looks great on you. Really makes your veins pop!” the voice laughed one more time before Tatum hung up the phone, ending the call.
“Tatum!” You grabbed onto you friend’s arm worried. “What if you made him mad?”
“(Y/N), Sid, don’t you understand this is exactly what he wants? He wants to scare you, he wants you to feel unsafe in your own homes. That’s why we’re getting the hell out of dodge this weekend.” She gave the two of you a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay. Maybe they’ll even catch the guy before we get back.” You hadn’t heard back about the blood sample yet, but you were sure the police would be in contact with you soon.
As empowering as Tatum’s speech was, you couldn’t help but let the phone call rattle you. You spent the next few minutes vigorously running the blue nail polish off of your nails, all the while feeling like you were being watched from outside of your bedroom window.
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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago
Text
Find Me Again
Wanted to write smth for Pyramid Head since I’ve always loved the big guy!!!
Summary: In an attempt to escape your ex, you crashed the vehicle you two were in. Instead, you wind up in a place that burns and smells of ash. You find an unlikely ally, and beloved companion amidst the nightmare and come to fall in love with that metal-headed executioner. But you wind up separated, only to come back to him in a new game, a new world, hosted by a spider-legged God. Or! In which you and Pyramid Head are a thing in Silent Hill and you get sent back to the outer world. Trying to hunt down Silent Hill again only to find yourself in the realm of Fog. And soon to meet an old friend again.
!!!Minors and ageless blogs do not like or reblog as this is an Adult work, please respect my boundary!!!
Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you leave a like :D Esp if you wanna part two!
Fandom: Dead by daylight / Silent Hill
Relationship: Pyramid Head/Reader
Warnings: R18+/NSFT, canon typical violence, mentions of a virginity kink and corruption kink, Pyramid head man handles you (consensually), Reader is gender neutral and ambiguous, implied past abuse from readers ex
Words: 5k
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This wasn’t your first nightmare, but you sure hoped it was your last. 
This world had rules, it seemed. Fairly simple. A god-like being called The Entity wanted you all to play its twisted game. Even being fair enough to allow you Survivors to come back in one piece. Despite the agony of its spider-like claws and the hook impaling into your backs, forever leaving a scar. 
You weren’t helpless, none of you were. It was a fair game laid out. Get out, figure out if you were going to go back and save your teammates, or figure out if escaping was more important. Run from the killers that played your group like you were a sport for them. 
Hunters chasing game. 
In terms of high stakes, you like to think you’d had worse done to you. You’d been in a dark, foggy world once. You'd assumed it had been on accident as you inhaled the ash-filled world with your head spinning.
~Rest under the cut~
Your ex had not been the kindest, putting it lightly. A sick person they’d been. Gaslighting, abusive, not afraid to get physical with you. You two had been driving. And you remember just being so scared, suddenly so overwhelmed with this fear as they’d spoken to you. Telling you that you were really in for it when the car stopped. Words that sounded like a high shriek in your ears from your fear. 
You’d taken the wheel then from their hands, whipping it to the side in the hopes of crashing the vehicle. Unafraid of the death you had expected. 
Instead, you’d woken up in an unfamiliar place. Black and white, the taste of ash heavy in the air. You were a bit dizzy getting out of the car, grunting with the effort to shove the door open. Coughing from the taste of the smoke coming from the vehicle. 
It’d taken you a minute to get away from the flaming car, only for you to realize that your partner had not been in the car. Their door long since open and their body nowhere to be found. The only hint they had even been there had been the blood on the glass and the footsteps in the ash. 
Your heart pulsed in your throat as nausea took over, your eyes looking towards the ground where footsteps were left in the ash beside yours. Tracking towards your window before leaving towards the nearby abandoned town. 
Your lips had quivered, your eyes darting towards the street in the hopes you could simply walk back into the woods where you’d remembered you two were. But to your horror and confusion, the bridge had been totally demolished. Disappearing into a thick fog just past its creaking, swinging metal. 
So that led to you having to stand up on wobbly legs and find your way into the town. Feeling your hands shake as you watched the footsteps in the ash slowly disappear into nothing nearby a building’s alleyway. As if they’d been taken by something invisible. 
The sirens had come later in the day when you’d found a group of women who were screaming at you and calling you impure. A witch. When the black and darkness had taken over, the world decaying around you and these women running for a church-like building, you realized then that this was not a normal town. That this had to be a nightmare, a dream, some sort of other world. 
This couldn’t be happening. 
That’s all you could think when you heard this god-awful sound of screeching following the siren. A man with a pyramid-like structure had come from seemingly nowhere. His walk wobbled with the sword he was dragging across the ground- something you could only imagine was unbelievably heavy. He seemed to have a vendetta, a path towards the women who were screaming ‘Demon’, ‘Devil’, and ‘Executioner' at the being heading right for them. 
You don’t think you could get the image out of your eyes of him picking one up off the stairs of the church and peeling the flesh from her body like a banana. And though he never spoke a word, in your heart you knew he thought this was a way of ‘cleansing’ her. Of removing someone who could hurt something he defended. 
You think you had more to fear than just your ex lurking around here. 
At some point, you realized this was no longer you trying to find a way out of the town, but rather trying to survive. No one was your friend as far as you were concerned. And anytime you heard those sirens you knew nowhere was safe. The church, assumingly, was safe from the Executioner running around. But anywhere else had more of those creatures.  
You learned pretty quickly to avoid the hospitals after getting an eyeful of nurses and far too many cuts on your arms that you worried would become infected. Learning to avoid the Executioner- but not because you had met him. 
But because you could see what he could do. 
What if he had thought you needed to be cleansed? That’s all you could imagine whenever you caught even a peek of him. How he could lift you up effortlessly and grab your flesh, peel it right from your muscle and toss you aside like yesterday’s trash. 
And then one day had come the ultimate decision. 
Your ex had found you, and you felt nausea overcoming you in a wave when you’d seen them. Realizing that even in this strange world, that for once you had felt free. Free from the fear they gave you, free from the pain, free to laugh at your own jokes that you told yourself. 
They’d practically snarled at you, grabbing your arm and starting to yell at you. Making you feel small all over again as tears welled up in your eyes. Fear making your lips quiver and not having the strength to shake them off. 
You remember the loud sound of the siren, how your ex had gone silent as the world began to peel away and fear settled into their eyes. You remember the terrible screech of the blade on the concrete. 
You remember for the first time since you’d gotten there, that your first instinct wasn’t to run away. 
The pyramid-headed being that you had come to mentally call the Executioner was at the end of the road. You didn’t think as you’d broken from your ex and gone running for him instead, despite the yelling behind you. You remember thinking you didn’t care if that great blade came slamming onto you, or if he’d take you and skin you like he’d done that woman. You just remember thinking- 
You just remember thinking... 
Anyone but them. Anything but them. 
You remember sobbing your eyes out when you’d gotten in front of him. How the Executioner had paused and cocked its helmed head with a loud, groaning creak. You expected the pain, you begged for it, blubbering and not one of your proudest moments. The fearless feeling you’d had when you’d grabbed the steering wheel returning to you. You just wanted to get away from them- 
And the blade had slammed down. 
Right next to you. 
A slow crouch, a kneel of one of his legs and that same groan echoing from his helm. A dirtied hand had cupped your chin, tilting your head this way and that as you sobbed hysterically. Tears poured down your cheeks as you pleaded for him to kill you. Even going so far as to take that large hand and pull it off your chin, sliding it down to your throat where your lips could only form the words and no sound could leave you. 
It had all happened so quick. One second you were pleading this Executioner to end you, and the next you’d heard that terrible creak and watched him stand. You wanted the pain, closing your eyes tight and steeling yourself for it. 
But instead, he’d kept walking. 
Walking right past you and towards your ex. 
That same sound you’ll never forget. Of them screaming your name in fear for once. And how, for once, in that moment, you felt a sick sense of glee. To not be the one full of fear, to not be the one standing there in terror and waiting for the agony that was to come. To not be the one wondering what hell would come the next day, but too scared to leave for something worse that would come. 
You didn’t watch. You didn’t need to. Not with the screaming and the sounds that echoed behind you. 
You expected him to come back and finish the job. After all, maybe he liked the idea of tormenting a soul. Instead, you’d opened your eyes when you heard his heavy breathing to see him standing before you, a hand outstretched to you and almost this confused groan echoing from that pyramid. 
You’d taken his hand that day and followed where he led. It’s as if he took a protecting role over you, not allowing anyone else to touch you so long as the world was blackened and decayed. When the world was made of ash, you took your chances in exploring, hoping to find some answers to this world, something that would make sense so you could help in some form or another. 
You learned he was a protector, originally to a little girl. And that the women you’d met were a part of a cult that believed them to be the sinners. Specifically, that the little girl had been a witch. More and more information being found led you to believe that because you hadn’t done anything wrong in life, that you weren’t actually supposed to be here. 
You guess it was due to you being in the vehicle and causing the accident. But the cause was for good reason, not simply because you were trying to kill someone for the hell of it. That’s what you had come to the conclusion of, at least. Something you open up about when Pyramid Head- something you fondly referred to him as- comes around once again when the sirens go off. 
You think he understands when you speak. Though he couldn’t speak back, he could nod or shake his head, making slow gestures with his hands until you could understand him in turn. You still remember feeding him a can of peaches for the first time, watching this long tendril come out and wrap around the whole thing of peaches and zip it underneath his pyramid. The loud crunch of metal heard and yet no knowledge in your mind that he even had a mouth. 
You had been there for about two years trying to figure out how to get out. Two years was a long time, and a long time to share time with another person. You’d ended up falling for the big guy, taking comfort in his touch and offering him what you could only assume was the first gentle touches of his life. Kissing his hands, helping wash them, kissing his helm and feeling unafraid if its edges cut your lips. 
You’d gotten bold with him. Feeling your confidence that you used to have before you had been with your ex begin showing itself again. A bit flirty in nature. 
Sometimes you’d take his hands and wrap one around your throat. Murmuring how he wouldn’t hurt you unless you asked for it. Always delighting in that low sound that would come from him. The low groan and how his fingers would twitch before sliding down your neck and shoulder to squeeze you fondly and keep walking. 
Memories of how he’d lead you to showers to cleanse yourself, of feeling his hands on you, of being able to taunt and tease him. You learned quick of his thing about corruption, anytime you found a new outfit of white or reminded him of you being untouched. How his breathing would become heavier, his hands a bit rougher on you, or his loud groans and growls when he could only thrust between your thighs without ever entering you. 
Taunting and teasing a being known as a Devil and a God around these parts may not have been your smartest thing to do, but damn if you didn’t get off on the power trip of it. Similarly getting off on how gentle he could be if you warned him to be. How those large hands you’d seen rip people apart would caress your hips with unknown gentleness. 
Finding your way out had happened on the second year on accident. Someone had come into this place you’d come to know as Silent Hill. A detective sent to find you and your ex who were deemed missing persons; One of your friends had called it in, telling them that your ex was a danger to you and that you could be found dead and not just missing. 
You aren’t sure how the detective found a way out. You remember screaming when he’d taken your hand, ushering you out with him as you’d tried to rip yourself from him. Hearing the loud groan following the sirens overhead. You never even got to see him again, the world all fading to white so quickly. 
They labelled you with Foul Play in the end when you’d finally gotten out. They also labelled you delusional, the investigator telling you that you suffered from Stockholm syndrome for the ‘beast’. Not that they believed him either, they labeled him delusional. He was told he’d heard too many of your stories and therefor unfit for the job since he agreed with you. That he couldn’t separate fact from fiction. 
What a mess your life had been after that. Each night lying awake in tears because you never got to say Goodbye. Always wondering if Pyramid Head ever thought someone finally had gotten to you before the sirens had gone off and he could find you again. 
You had decided to do traveling after that, maybe feeling foolish trying to find your way back into the town. And one night, you thought you had. You thought you’d heard those sirens, feeling a fog washing over you and feeling a sharp glimmer of hope. 
And then you’d woken up here, at a camp site with your new found ‘Survivors’ who worried over you and consoled you when you broke down into tears. But not at having to survive another nightmare, no. 
That you hadn’t found your way back into the first one. 
At least there were people here who sort of understood what you’d explained and the agony that came with it. Some of the Survivors had taken to mingling with the Killers when the designated time came around. The Entity liked the pain of those in love having to hurt each other, but some couples liked the chase. Feng and The Doctor as an example, or Kate with the Huntress. They didn’t get pain from being chased, they liked it. 
When the time came for mingling on that one week of every few months, some Survivors would leave to the different realms. Disappearing into the fog in the hopes it would take them to where they wanted the first time. Whether to spend time with a loved one, or to taunt. Some Survivors stayed behind- Quentin and Laurie never left, for fear they’d wander into the fog into the arms of those who craved to do worse than just kill them. 
And then one day, Cheryl had come into your camp. 
She talked of a school, of a world that tasted of ash, of the creatures with terrible faces. Of the cult-like people she had come across, the death and decay, losing her father- 
And a horrible monster that chased her with a groaning triangle upon its shoulders. 
You felt your breath still as a few pairs of eyes glanced to you. Your eyes flickered over her, and she must have caught the recognition in your eyes because she’d looked at you with a breath of relief. “You’ve been there too?” 
“Yeah,” You managed to croak out. “Was there for a long time, kiddo.” 
You bond with her quicker than any of the other Survivors over this. She’s a kid, you learn, just turned 17 not long ago. She’s been through more hardship than anyone her age should have ever faced and you can’t help but feel a sibling-like bond with her. She’s here for a reason, you know, just like all of you. Her surviving qualities were high, her determination just as so. 
You bond over what you both had seen, and you admit that the being Cheryl couldn’t figure out if he wanted to protect her or destroy, was someone you had loved just the same a long time ago. You explain your side just as she explains hers, explaining that she might have been the same child he was set to protect, but something good. Maybe not even her own person. She tells you of her pain and confusion, tears spilling down her cheeks as you hold her through it. 
You don’t ask her who her designated Killer was. You’re not sure if you want that sort of hope, nor do you want to open any wounds for her. 
Like all the Survivors do for the others who join, she’s given explanations and tips to this twisted game. Cheryl insists she’s been through worse, throwing a look your way that makes you feel awful that you knew exactly what she meant. At least in this game of chase, there was always a guarantee to come back, some sort of rhythm to it.  
In the world where you two had seen the stuff made of nightmares, you can understand her confidence now. But she’s just a kid, something a majority of all of you look around at each other and to Quentin who was just a teenager himself as well.  
When the games begin again and four survivors are chosen, taken from the camp where they shall awaken in a realm they may or may not be familiar with, the rest of you carry on as normal. You lie awake most nights, feeling this strange feeling in your heart as if someone or something was calling you. 
Recently you’d been having fitful nights of rest, but not quite nightmares. Where the world tasted of ash, and yet the world was calm all the same. Flashes of metal, flashes of blood, flashes of large hands caressing you and hearing yourself gasp, followed by the low groan of metal.  
Sometimes you dream of him. The Investigator’s words of Stockholm syndrome curling in your mind. Even as you dream of how gentle he’d been with you, hands running over you, bringing you cans of food that he found, or even comics or stuffies to entertain you. Memories or dreams. Dreams involving things you never got to do or say. Of where his hands wrap around your throat and you beg him to squeeze harder. 
Your current dream is a little different. 
You feel like your body is being run through syrup, hard to move your limbs or have any control over them, but you’re walking. The whispers of the Entity and its voice that sounded of 20 people with varying emotions calling to you. It taunts you, as it had taunted many others. 
Normally this meant it was choosing you for an upcoming match, preparing you to put on your fighting spirit. 
And yet, the whispers come to a halt all of a sudden. The loud groan of metal and the screech of a blade upon the ground, biting into unseen concrete. You can’t speak when doors open in front of you, the blinding light outlining a silhouette. An...awfully familiar one at that. 
Your lips part to speak, but nothing comes from you. And when you go to step forward again, you watch the giant metal pyramid atop his shoulders turn for you. A loud groan as it tilts to the side in a hard gesture, one he’d always done to you. You can’t help but smile, outreaching without thinking about it, only to watch in puzzlement as he seems to be glowing a strange orange. The blade suddenly looking more menacing with a slow shake of his pyramid of metal and the blade curling in his grasp to be pointed. 
Right at you. 
Your eyebrows knit, confused, trying again to call out to him. Your hand outstretches again, and you’re aware of the cage-like bindings around you. Your heart crushing all at once as he suddenly charges you and the blade raising high above his head- 
You awake before it makes contact. Gasping as your cheek is set on cold concrete in a dark room full of desks. You sit up with a startle, your head whipping around you in the quiet, only able to hear the shake of your own breath. 
You hear once last final whisper of the Entity, a cruel murmur of, “Have fun. And do not forget to thank Us.” 
The world comes to you slowly as you’re able to get up, aware of the breathing to your right and look over to find Claudette waking up as well. You two make eye contact, and she scrunches her brows in confusion. A silent question of where you were. You look around with her, swallowing thickly at the sight of decay and hearing the all too familiar loud sound of a siren ringing around you. 
You look back at her again, your expression possibly reading all she needs before she’s making a gesture for you to lead the way. 
The Entity liked toying with its new survivors and killers alike, bringing familiar surroundings to them. For you, it had been the hospital you had been kept at when they deemed you unfit for society. And it seems like for Cheryl, her unhappy place had been the place you had even tried to go back and search for. Though you knew the school wouldn’t be how you remembered it, nor would it be for her either. Hooks would be placed, new dead ends, twists and turns with only one monster walking about. 
You swallow hard, wondering if that dream had been a threat, a warning, or some sort of prediction? If...If your Protector was in here with you, did the Entity change his memories somehow? Or did he not remember you at all anyway? Was there any guarantee what he thought? 
What if he did remember, but held a grudge and thought you had abandoned him?  
You were so uncertain. Your hands shaking as you work on the wires of the generator with Claudette on the opposite side of you, following the gentle hum of it coming to life. You two work through it pretty well, no increase rate of your heartbeat, no strange humming, no sign of the Shape with how quiet it was. 
Nothing. 
It’s...eerily quiet, and you’re unsure where the other two are. 
With a pop and a click, the lights crank on and the generator is complete. You both stand, sharing a look without words to start working out your next approach. 
Then it happens. 
All at once, you feel the thrum of your heartbeat increase, watching Claudette share a look with you. She holds a finger to her lips, pointing at the stairs to imply she thinks whoever it is had to be upstairs. You make a motion for her to go ahead on without you. 
You watch her nod and head down the hallway into the thick mist to either find teammates or another generator. 
You feel foolish as you stand by the lit generator, feeling...You're not entirely sure, hope maybe? If that dream had been some sort of prediction, maybe you could live with him not recognizing you if it meant you could finally tell him you were sorry. To explain you never meant to leave him, that you’d been forced to. That no one understood your desire to find that wretched place again. 
That you couldn’t find your way home. 
To your left is a long hallway, to your right is the lit-up generator thrumming to life. Your back is to a wall, your eyes on the staircase and feeling your throat tighten. Your body screams at you to run, to hide, to stop being so foolish.  
But when he comes down those stairs, a groan to the familiar metal atop his head, and a sword clicking off each staircase? You can’t help but feel relief course through your veins and your lips trembling as they part. He seems dead set on a hunt, a mission towards your generator, before the pyramid atop his shoulders seems to tilt towards you. 
All at once, your Protector stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking directly at you with the point of his pyramid aimed at you. Your heartbeat feels like it’s in your throat, your breath shaking and your legs feeling like jelly under you. 
Your eyes flicker to the Great sword still with its tip upon the last staircase, but they quickly go up to the pyramid when you hear the low groan of it tilting. 
“Hey, big guy,” You croak out, your voice sounding hoarser and thicker than you wanted it to. You watch as his head tilts again, subtly and with yet another groan, his hand gripping tighter on the hilt of his blade. 
You swallow thickly, feeling the tension in the air and almost sensing his confusion. “I’m right here, do you remember me?” You start again, your voice wavering just as your eyes betray you and dot with tears. Emotions overwhelm you, and you’re sure the Entity is getting off on its curious desires to see such a dynamic like this. Where agony coursed through you, confusion, mentally begging to see anything on him that said he did remember you. 
“Please,” You whimper out, feeling your knees wobbling and your body unable to turn and run. Held perfectly still like a deer in headlights. 
He takes a step forward, and your knees finally give out under you as you slide down the wall with tears spilling down your cheeks. Only feeling more pathetic as he comes closer and closer with each slow step. 
“Please,” You whimper out again, more desperate as you tilt your head up towards him when he stands in front of you. Your neck strains at this angle, your eyes blurred with tears. You don’t feel scared, you only feel what could only be described as yearning. Longing for this man. Like as if you had been but a teenage romance and one of you had to move away, finally seeing your other half again and feelings coming rushing back. 
“Please,” You choke out. Pyramid Head has stopped in front of you now, the low metallic groan heard as you blearily see him through your tears. You reach for him with shaking fingertips, your breathing heavy in your own ears and your heart rate increasing. 
You expect your dream to come true. For his great blade to come slamming down onto you or for him to toss you over his shoulder and drag you kicking and screaming to a hook. 
You don’t expect his gloved hand to delicately take your outstretched hand. 
You tense, waiting for him to yank you. But instead, his hand clasps over yours, his thumb running over your knuckles. You manage to blink your tears away, your breath shaking and looking at him in awe. He has no face to show emotion, not even a voice, but you can feel it in how he touches you. The same way you looked at him. 
Disbelief. A dream. Not real. 
You’re yanked to your feet and it makes you yelp. But before you can even react, he’s yanking you upwards and over one shoulder. One hand firmly grabbing your ass and the other doing the slow drag of his blade across the ground.  
You don’t...feel endangered. Perhaps that is foolish of you, but all you can really concentrate on is how Pyramid Head feels. Seeing the lines of his back through his apron flexing with each step and each press of his fingertips against your ass. 
The Entity had told you ‘Have fun and don’t forget to thank us’. Now you think you understand what it means when you are taken to a room and set on top of a desk.  
You don’t have to wait for him to do anything before your legs are wound around his waist, taking his hand that grabs onto the curve of your side and guiding it up your body. You press his fingers around your throat, delighting in how you can hear the sound of his metallic groan have an edge of a growl into it. “Did you miss me?” 
The press of his hand tells you enough. You give off a breathy, delighted laugh when his hips hump forward against yours. A desperate sort of groan leaving him when you reach up to hook your fingers under the metal of his pyramid and jerk him forward. Gently pressing a kiss to the pointed tip. 
“Made you wait long enough, I think. Wanna take me, sweetheart?” You murmur out to him. Another breathy laugh leaving you when Pyramid Head’s hand falls from your throat to grab your hip instead to try and jerk you closer. As if trying to fuck you through your clothes as his hips hump against yours. 
Desperate. Wanting you. His sword clattering to the floor so both his hands can grip your hips to try and yank you forward with a low groan. 
“Thatta boy.” 
You were definitely in for a fun match. Not to mention you save your fellow Survivors some sweat and tears. 
You just hope you won’t be too loud... 
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