#Golem/Android Gregory (Creation Gregory)

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INCORRECT QUOTES:

Gregory: “I always have a plan for staying on top of things for this month. Seize control of every opportunity, get my grind on and work my hardest and absolute smartest to be my best self. Drink lots of coffee, eat lots of pastries, pet lots of cats when I’m on the verge of a crisis, and pray to whatever god is up there that the power of love, hope and faith can get me through it all. Even if my enemies are the gods I end up praying to, I will never lose sight of my goal. I’ll simply just work harder.”

Glamrock Freddy: “... It’s past your bedtime. Please, I beg of you, rest.”

Gregory: “I was comatose for fifty-seven years straight, brother dear. I can endure this delightful misery for a while lo-” *instantly collapses*

Glamrock Freddy: “...I rest my case.”

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Elizabeth: “How do you think life would be if me and Michael weren’t your siblings?”

Evan: “For one thing, I would be sane.”

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Gregory: “Lizzy, I’m sorry. I’m not allowing you into the kitchen for reasons I can’t say.”

Vanessa: “...Me and Bubba left you alone with Chica for three fucking minutes, how did you already cause such a ruckus within the span of three minutes.”

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Gregory, opening a Fizzy Faz: “Oh, fine, then. I guess I’ll just drink my sorrows away.”

Sundrop, whose poor heart skipped a beat: “How does he know what that means!?”

Vanessa: *nervous whistling*

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Gregory: “You know what the old saying is; go big, or go home!”

Freddy and Vanessa: “Dear god, please, I BEG of you, please, for just ONCE in your life, please, go HOME, PLEASE.”

Gregory, whispering so quietly he’s practically mouthing the words at this point: “I’m going big.”

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Freddy: “You know, Liz, not every problem can be solved with a swiss army dagger.”

Vanessa: “I know. That’s why I carry two of them.”

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Gregory: “I’ve had a coffee and a single oreo within the past two hours. I’ve got a Fazerblaster, I’m four foot seven, and I’m always ready to fight God on sheer adrenaline and rage alone.”

Vanessa: “Someone fix my poor big brother.”

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Montgomery Gator: “Oi, little guy, ain’t it past yer’ bedtime?”

Gregory, filling out paperwork in scented glitter gel pen: “Isn’t it time you minded your own business?”

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Elijah (Bonnie Mask Bully): “Oi, loser, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Evan, filling out paperwork with a crayola marker: “Isn’t it time you shut up? Permanently?”

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Michael, glaring incredulously at Evan: “You keep track of all the information you’ve ever learned and used in a bloody ledger?”

Evan, sipping his tea with extra milk and sugar nonchalantly: “Oh? And you don’t?”

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Katrina Emily (Mrs. Emily): “Hypothetically, would you slap your older brother for 50,000 dollars?”

Evan: “I’d shatter all the bones his leg for two slices of piping hot Fredbear’s Pizza and a refreshingly cold beverage.”

Michael:

Evan: “And then I would hug him and drown him in apologies for the next two hours, and also sign his cast.”

Michael: “Oh.”

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Evan (inspired by one Tumblr post): “The sexiest thing about me? Everything hurts my feelings.”

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Gregory (Reincarnated Vessel) and Charlotte Emily (CharlieBot): *points at family love* “This one sparks joy.”

Gregory and Charlie turning to romance and pointing at it: “This one does not spark joy.”

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Some random person: “Oh, but romance and love are what make us human!”

Gregory/Evan, Charlie, and Cassidy: *turn to each other* “It’s tough being a god, y’know?”

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Susie, hanging out around Gregory with the other MCI gang: “What’s your ideal date?”

Gregory: “MM/DD/YYYY. Other formats tend to be confusing, such as the ones used in passports for traveling to other countries.”

Cassidy: “As one who speaks from personal experience, I can confirm the validity of such wisdom.”

Charlie: “Agreed.”

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Gregory: “Do I feel romantic attraction or am I just lonely and depressed and love and touch-deprived?”

Freddy and Vanessa: “...Do you need a hug?”

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Evan (Golden Freddy)’s Opinion on Elizabeth (Circus Baby/Impostor Charlotte Emily/Vanessa): “You let your blind devotion and your search for unrequited love get the better of your judgement. Your hands are of his color, and yet you have not the slightest smidgen of shame of wearing a heart dripping with sin. Even now, I wish for your innocence back… it really is a tragedy. Had I already reunited with my body, I would’ve slapped some sense into you.”

Evan (Golden Freddy)’s Opinion on Gregory(Reincarnated Vessel Evan): “My other half… wherever could you be? You’re probably just as scared and incomplete as I am… know that the sun shall shine upon us again one day. We will save them all, and then, finally… we can live the future we were denied so long ago.”

Evan (Golden Freddy)’s Opinion on Michael (Glamrock Freddy): “Brother… how could you do such a thing? I should hate you… and yet- why does my heart ache to be with you once more? I should ponder on such things later… it hurts to think. I still love you... hang in there, okay?”

Evan (Golden Freddy)’s Opinion on William Afton: “Ah. Father. Have you senselessly sacrificed enough to achieve that abstract dream you’ve been chasing so foolishly for so long, slaughtering everything that breathes? I would like to think so, judging from the pathetic state you’ve been reduced to now. Oh? What’s that? I helped them do this to you? Well, think long and hard- why do you think that is? Why do you think I've turned my back on you? What is the value of a life to you?”

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(based off that one headcanon that I saw on FE3H’s rhea): Headcanon that Gregory gets stupidly happy and overemotionally excited whenever a dog or a cat sneaks into the Pizzaplex. It is within the Pizzaplex that he originally first awakened, and that, post-game, he found a place to rest and be at peace within and with himself. So to see another lost, wandering soul find comfort, warmth and peace, where they can be provided food, shelter and love… that’s something that hits him way too deep- WAY deeper than it should.

Also because he loves puppies and kittens, they’re just adorable little bundles of joy, simply waiting for their snoots to be booped and their paws to be squished and their tiny, sweet little bodies to be cuddled!

Like, Freddy and the gang struggles to get a cat away from Gregory who he’s been holding to his chest for the past hour stroking its fur, while Gregory is uncontrollably sobbing and in utter hysterics because ‘OH BROTHER CAN WE KEEP THIS LITTLE BABY AND WELCOME HIM INTO OUR FAMILY OH GOD HE TOUCHED ME HES SO SOFT AND CUDDLY AND PRECIOUS PLEASE I LOVE HIM OH GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH WAHHHASLDKFJAL;SHBVC-’

<3 man

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Blue-Blooded (Headcanon Elaboration)

Okay I can explain-

Originally I was planning for Gregory to have regular red counterfeit blood like Charlie, right? Then I played Detroit Become Human- and not to sound messed up or anything, but have you SEEN how beautiful android blood/thirium is? It’s such a deep, majestic and royal shade of blue that has the EXACT SAME plasmatic and runny consistency of regular red human blood- I couldn’t even yeet my controller out the window out of frustration for achieving death scenes for androids because of how aesthetically pleasing to the eye thirium was.

So, just like the circular LED (External Processing Unit) being implanted into the side of Gregory’s head, hidden by his bangs, and the triskelion binary barcode “birthmark” on the back of his neck hidden by the collar of his shirt (its actually his arcana code), this brunette android/golem gremlin has dark blue blood hidden by his exterior human-appearance/body, which is basically Evan’s blood but the chemical composition and structure heavily modified by dark and forbidden methods. Similar to human blood and thirium in DBH, it is his most vital component for him to function properly, circulating electrical information and power to the brain via a combination of blue blood and circuitry. 

The substitute for his heart is somehow a tesseract of seemingly infinite power, so the charging stations only serve to keep him from being drowsy, or to keep ventilation and blue blood from circulating improperly through his body.

The importance of blue blood to Gregory is why he’s so afraid of being cut, the other being that he’ll be discovered. Well, joke’s on him- Vanny accidentally cuts him on his back and he gets ratted out by his body that had the audacity to bleed blue. Cue good ol’ Papa Willy A. having a whole crisis and cycling through the four stages of grief on repeat at a whole two revolutions per nanosecond.

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OH AND ALSO

Gregory kind of has a tolerance to pain and immediate suffering, negated by his longtime suffering and trauma, going into dangerous situations like Monty Golf to decommission Monty because of his capacity for handling short-term pain and danger. Of course, he still has the potential to feel tremendous amounts of physical alongside mental pain, and he can cry in response to such things, but he does have the rather unhinged attitude of ¨bring it on, i´m ready¨ in response to any challenge he comes across, even if that challenge poses an extreme risk- if it´s an obstacle to achieving his goals in his eyes, he does whatever it takes to swiftly and completely, oftentimes brutally, dispose of it.

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Things you should never say to Gregory:

‘Let’s wing it- we don’t need a plan’ or ‘We’ll figure it out when we get there.’ (You wanna give him a heart attack? Then say those words- he’ll be instantly like ‘oh crap’. The higher the stakes, and the more dire the circumstances, the more he’s going to be like ‘please no’. He does have a straightforward and brutally simple approach to eliminating obstacles, regardless of the consequences, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a meticulous planner- he's not the type to simply dance or cry his troubles away anymore. He always wants to know what’s going to happen in every situation, and what exactly he should be expecting per every scenario. He does have a tad bit of a rebellious side, but only because he wants things to go his way to prevent any unforseen circumstances from basically ruining his life.)

‘Why can’t you take other people into consideration?’ (Again, he has introverted decision-making, and has long since decided off of being a people pleaser to save his time and energy on people who actually care about him, which is a wise decision in his eyes. If someone says this to him, they’re invalidating the absolutely excruciating standards he has put himself through in his past as the middle child of a family. When you say this to him, you’re asking him to defend a decision he has thought out and has finally deemed logical, and you’re doubting his self-awareness of risk assessment, which is, again, in his eyes, patronizing him.)

‘Why can’t you just be more practical?’ (Excuse me. His idealism has kept him alive for the longest time, and has been his only hope for the entire time he’s embarked on his journey to find his family and ‘fix’ his life. And now, you’re calling him a daydreaming twat at the most basic explanation. Just- leave the pragmatic thinking to his older brother, and leave him to follow his instincts and judgement and over-obsessive planning. Leave the extraverted thinking to someone else, and let him work on his already brilliant and talented tactical mind- his thinking process, his judgement.)

‘I don’t think I know who you truly are.’ (Gregory harbors his secrets- he has his fair share of trauma that he keeps in the dark, and he has a fair bit of skeletons in his closet- you don’t need to go prodding intrusively on whatever actions he does or whatever he thinks is best. But I will admit, he does need to work on not suffering in secrecy all the time, because this is in many ways, his fault- he just wants to accomplish his goals and live his life the best that he possibly can, and he can be pretty unpredictable because of his judgement and his tactical, scheming and crafty mind- but that doesn’t mean he’s stereotypically malintented, okay? He knows who he truly is, and that’s for him to know and him alone- not to be confused with his sense of identity and purpose, of which he flaunts.)

‘I can’t believe how selfish you actually are!’ (EVERYTHING he has ever done up until this point was for his family, and their livelihoods, and on the off chance that, being charitable, that Gregory could still have a livelihood- that there was still hope for him and his future that’s already been ruined and ripped to shreds. He is a reclusive and a secretive optimist. He may have been pursuing what was, at its core, a selfish dream, but under NO circumstances do you have the right to say such things to him and hurt his feelings because calling him selfish just because of his selfish and obsessive tendencies is just plain wrong.)

‘You focus on the wrong things.’ (Maybe he does, but he is still an extremely hard worker with a tactical, strategic and brilliantly creative mind, and he tries his best to remain organized and dedicate himself to his work, while also taking an amazingly structured approach to certain problems despite his solutions being very simple. Maybe he should learn not to take things so seriously, but still- don’t undermine or underestimate him.)

‘We’re going to do things in a different way.’ (Gregory, again, has a systematic and structured approach to how he thinks out solutions, and he is anything but a mediator- he’s analytical and strategic while also being strangely idealistic- he’s incredibly detail-oriented, and thus is very used to doing things a certain way- and despite symbolizing change and new beginnings via the butterfly, he does find it hard to accept some types of change. So if you try to force a new approach onto him, expect resistance of the highest order, to put it lightly.)

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FNAF PROJECT SAMSARA AU TIMELINE (MY VERSION OF THE FNAF TIMELINE) PART 1:

**'lego step' is code for 'sewer-slide' btw.

1983- FNAF 4 was the first game that took place. Evan was fatally injured on March 13th 1983 in the Bite of 83 on his eleventh birthday as a result of having his head, neck and upper torso crushed by machinery as a result of the Fredbear Suit’s springlocks failing. He dies in the hospital five days later. Two months later, Charlotte Emily dies.

1984- His mother (also kind of a neglectful parent), wracked with grief like the rest of the Afton family, divorces William out of hatred that he neglected her and his own kids, and a feeling of personal betrayal that one of his creations killed her own youngest son, and that William blamed Michael. She tries to gain custody of her kids, but loses the case and ‘does lego step’ a couple days after she loses the custody battle.

1985- The MCI Incident takes place. William creates the Funtime Animatronics for his children in order to distract them from their true purpose- collecting and harvesting remnant in order for him to continue his research from where it left off- it seems to cheer Elizabeth up for quite some time, though he has to repeatedly and explicitly warn her not to get too close to Circus Baby. She doesn’t listen, though- she never really does. And it was her tenth birthday as well.

1986- William, researching into how he can bring his son back to life, utilizes the knowledge of remnant he discovered (or more or less ‘re-discovered’) to construct a new and perfect vessel for his youngest son to be reincarnated anew into. He knew some ancient religions theorized the failsafe for the soul upon death for those who were ‘deemed unworthy’, so he uses dark and questionable methods to descerate and modify Evan’s body, altering the fundamental chemical composition of it via remnant to make it house an infinite tesseract of power within the body before combining it with advanced technology and machinery in order to construct the perfect vessel. The consciousness is housed within a computer chip, and within the Fredbear plushie that acts as it’s primary heart, which, over time, will merge with and become one with the vessel that houses it. Artificial and mostly cyber-organic organs and systems that serve the new physical body are created as a result of this process.

1987- FNAF 2 takes place, and so does the Bite of ‘87. Gregory is complete and is first activated, unbeknownst to everyone else. William completes printing the triskelion identification barcode on his back and runs a couple of tests relating to reflexes, performance, and senses before sealing the vessel for his son away in a stasis-like state, keeping him safeguarded in a glass case within a secret, remote location in a compartment underneath the Sister Location facility. In this state, Gregory’s corrupted and tumultuous consciousness could be reset and stored in the back of his mind for safekeeping while he was suspended in his 57-year long slumber, stabilizing him effectively via the memory ‘wipe’ and cleansing him thoroughly and entirely.

1990- About a year after Michael moves out and William continues harvesting remnant to further his research, he gets his dumb self springlocked and trapped. Henry expresses his condolences to Michael, but Michael doesn’t truly care after learning of what his father has done.

1993- FNAF 1 takes place.

1995- Sister Location takes place, and so does that one torturous week with Ennard. The remnant inside Michael’s body due to the scooper prevents him from dying.

2006- FNAF 3 takes place.

2007- The animatronics are roaming. Baby is ‘exiled’ from Ennard and becomes Scrapbaby, Ennard becomes Molten Freddy, and Charlie the Puppet becomes Lefty.

2017- Pizzeria Simulator takes place. Michael opens his restaurant and burns the whole damn place to the ground, trapping the animatronics inside in an attempt to render the inhabited physical remnant useless and put the souls to rest. That didn’t go well.

2018- UCN begins. Elizabeth is reborn as Vanessa via self-initiated reincarnation (merging souls with a compatible vessel such as Vanessa whilst Vanessa was still in the womb, hence her green eyes instead of blue like both of her parents). Samuel Emily, 38 years old now, and being the only one that has not died, takes over Fazbear Entertainment and his father’s inheritance, turning it into a large, multimillion dollar corporation.

2022- Freddy Fazbear’s Grand Mega Pizzaplex opens, and so does GlamMike. Vanessa visits it for the first time as a young toddler with her parents for her fourth birthday in hopes that she can fix the problem of never laughing nor crying as a young child, and at the time, it was big, but not as big as it was during the events of Security Breach. She feels a vague sense of familiarity and heartache around Freddy, but her parents drag her away before she can truly ponder about such things. The cult of Glitchtrap is created, and children begin to go missing at night.

2025- UCN ends, and the spirits of both Cassidy and William end up inside the Help Wanted VR game. Vanessa’s parents divorce, and the custody battle takes place. A few days after Vanessa’s mother loses the custody battle, she also ‘does lego step’, which Vanessa gets a strange sense of deja vu from. It is after this incident that she begins to have proper emotional responses provided the context.

2030- Glamrock Bonnie is decomissioned by Monty under the control of a mysterious force. Monty is left with crippling guilt, and the camera evidence was soon after corrupted, of which the tech staff at the Pizzaplex had no luck tracing anyone to.

2031- Glamrock Foxy is decomissioned. Roxy is introduced to the gang.

2033- Vanessa gets a job/internship as Senior IT representative for SteelWool studios, a dummy company for Fazbear Entertainment (in game) while also trying to complete her education (she also develops a crush on her coworker Luis Cabrera but shhhhh~).

2035- The events of both FNAF AR (inside the emails) and FNAF VR: Help Wanted take place. Gregory finally awakens from his half-a-century long slumber, albeit reeling from the effects of amnesia, starvation and drowsiness from being placed in stasis for so long. This is also the time where Gregory kills the mechanics who tried to deactivate him and flees to the Post-It cave.

2036- Vanessa makes the ‘Vanny’ costume. Gregory regains his memories and regains his memories before resolving to hide out in the Pizzaplex to recover his strength and wits, and to find his family.

2038- The events of Security Breach take place. The AU of my ending is the ‘Burntrap’ ending combined with the ‘Savior’ ending, but it’s actually really batcrap crazy and can’t be summarized with just one sentence. Cassidy is freed from the Princess Quest Arcade Game, and frequently hangs out with Gregory. The broken animatronics are fixed, and it’s a happy ending for all (until I decide to update the timeline with new ideas lol)

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Me: **slaps the top of my AU Gregory’s head** this aroace android boy can fit so much trauma and yandere (platonic) impulse inside of him *casually ignores the faint ‘unhand me you troglodyte’ in the background*

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“…Mikey~? Lizzy…?

You don’t hate me… right?

I still remember that promise- ‘all we need is each other’. I never forget promises. And even then, the games I played with the daisy flowers in Uncle Henry’s backyard said no one would ever love me.

That’s not true, is it? You know it’s not true… I do too.

All we need is each other.

Please don’t hate me. Please don't yell at me, scream at me. Don't make me cry like we did before.

You still love me, even after you hurt me, even after I hurt you- even after all the mistakes we made and all the times we made each other cry. Right? I know you do. I know you’re the best siblings in the entire world- I know you’re my family- my beloved family, I know you love me. And I love you.

Don’t leave me, please, don't hate me… it hurts when you leave me. I’ll give you anything, fulfill your every wish. I’ll do anything for you… for you to love me again.

I love you guys so much. I love you.

I̷̭̼̊ ̶̠͑̐l̵͎͔͊͝o̸̫͌͝ṿ̶͆͒ȅ̴͕̭ ̷̨̧̽̚y̷̹͍̚o̴̪͝u̵̙̎̉ ̵̞͍̉̈́Ȉ̴̦͜ ̵̡̗̏l̶͖̭͌ō̷̤͙v̴̙̍̚e̶͍̔̽ ̵͓̣͠ỹ̸̢͑ő̵̗̮̋u̵̩̅̕ ̸̟̤͗I̶̘͔̔̅ ̵̨̥͒l̷̹̻͆ǫ̵̛̥͂v̶̳̝̓e̸̥̽ ̴̮̉̑ŷ̵͔̊ȍ̵̟̣̇u̵͍̝͂̚ ̷̩͔̔Ḯ̵̭̘ ̶̼́l̸͉̕o̴̲͆̓v̷͓̍e̷̤͋ ̶͔͙̃y̸̧̽o̸̖̾u̷̫͍̽ ̴̬́͠I̶̥͑̚ ̶̱̀͌ļ̵̛͋ó̷̬̲v̸̘̊e̸̼̓ ̷̳̒̽y̷̟͘o̴͚̊̌ȕ̶̩͖ ̸̖̈́̚I̷͔͙̋̂ ̶̨̡͂l̷͚̓o̸̧̫̅͊v̸̥̐e̶̦͍̊͂ ̴̯̇̀y̵̪̣̾͝o̵̖̞̓̑u̸͉͂͘ͅ ̷̙̟͂Ȉ̵̡̞̈́ ̴̻̌͠l̴͉̍̈ǫ̶̗͘v̵̛̤͒ę̵̅͝ ̶͂̕ͅỹ̸̯̯ọ̴̰͗u̵̪̘̚Ǐ̷̼̺ ̸̢͛͋l̷̫̃̇ó̸̰v̵̉̕͜e̴̥̻̽ ̴̢̅́y̸͖͗o̴̤̓͠ǘ̴͎̓ ̷̗͇̎̚Į̴̀ ̷̰͒́l̵̯̉̌ọ̵̭̇͗v̸͈͛e̴͇͛ ̶̪̐̕y̷̱̆̋ő̸̮̋u̸̱͑ ̶̡̈́Ī̷̝̠ ̶̳͚͐l̷̮̼̋ỏ̶̥v̶̠̼́̿e̵̼͔͒ ̶̗̻̇y̷̦͝o̵̝̔ů̴͖ ̵̦̣̚I̸͇̹̽̓ ̵̟̪̈l̷̨̥͆o̶̱̐̍v̵̦͆e̵͖̮͛ ̵̫̽̑y̴̙̚ö̴̢́ͅu̷̙̰̿̿ ̶͙͘I̷̲̎ ̶̹̥͗̒l̶̗͉̉o̸̱͈̓͆v̶̮̔̂ͅe̵̦͔̅ ̴̹̜̃̈́ý̸̼̋ö̷͕́̑u̷͍̙͆ ̸̧͙̾I̷̗̤͂̽ ̶͇̤̊l̴̪͔̍ò̵͍̄v̷͚̮̕e̷̟͚͋ ̷̗̈́̓y̵̼̅o̵̢͆̀u̶̘͕͑ ̷̞̰͗Ỉ̵̗͐͜ ̴̡̜̀l̸̰͂̂ó̷̘v̵͇̚ě̵̤ ̶̯̳͒y̸̨̱͊o̷̩̓̒ŭ̴̢́Î̴̪ ̶͉͒l̵̞̇o̸̥̩̓v̸̗͕̈́ĕ̴̖ ̴̡̊̅y̸̱̘͌̅o̸͇͑̒ú̸̬͖ ̴͐̋͜Í̷̧͉ ̶͈̏̀ḽ̴̀o̶̲̅̒v̸̨͙̂e̷͉̒ ̵̹͕̋y̶̲̬͑ọ̶͝u̶̯̩̔ ̶̀̕͜I̸͙̺̍̾ ̵̧̓l̷̘̗̓͑ó̸̺͚̇v̴͍̾͊e̵̻͂ ̷̤̫̓̉y̶͉͘o̷̦͠u̵̹̼͝ ̴̹͉́̔I̴̥̺͘ ̴̰̑̍l̷̺̅͘o̷̭̠͌͂v̶̼̥͒e̸��̼̓ ̶̬͕͛y̷̺͍̽ō̴͇͇ṳ̵̟́ ̷̗̲͒͛Ì̶̲ ̷̨̈́l̴̝͗o̶̤͚̐͛v̷̜́͑ȇ̷̜ ̸̳̘̊y̵̘̞̿̿ȍ̶̰͈̍ṳ̷͑ ̷̢̹̅I̷̤̐ ̷̩́̉l̶̥͎̊o̶̫͇͆v̶̚͜e̵̡̟̔ ̵̱̊͝y̸̥͆͜o̵̜̎̿ȗ̵̘ ̴͚̈Í̸͚͍ ̸̗͛ļ̴̒ọ̴̅̎v̵̘͑e̸̻͊̀ ̶͉̞̒y̷͕͂͐o̵̔̿͜͜u̵̩̇Ȋ̵͍̘͠ ̸͍̈́ľ̶̖o̴̖͊v̷̢̾̎e̶̹̿ ̶͉͌ÿ̴͚̩͠o̷̡̨͘ù̵̳̄ ̶͉̋͜Ì̸̟̅ ̴̦̣̇l̷̬̎o̸̝͗͐v̴̩̯̽̇e̶̖͠ ̶̟͚͂̌ÿ̵̟͎o̶̳̔͂u̴̥̦̓̈ ̴̫͚͌̔Ĩ̴͇͝ ̶̫̻̔l̷̮̹͐̓ö̶̩͙͂v̷͕́e̶̞͇͘ ̷̳͑͂y̸̲͂o̴͔̊͋ǔ̶̧͔͘ ̴̹͕̀́Į̴͉͒̈́ ̵̡̜͛l̷̪̂͌o̵̢̭̔̈v̷̼̈́͌ê̷͖̌ ̵̼̟͂̕y̴̦͒o̶͇̩͐ü̸̢͆ ̶͖̪̏I̸̢͉̔ ̵̩͇͗͠ļ̴͙̾͝o̷̰͉͂̊v̶͇̇ė̶̯͜ ̶̘̂͘ÿ̸̨ọ̸͓̓u̵̠̪͝ ̸͎͂I̴̤̩͝ ̸̻͗l̷̮̫̇͐o̸̖̔́v̷̼̒ḛ̶̑ ̵͍̏̔ẙ̷̜̫͒o̸̮̖͌u̴̹̲͑̐ ̶̛͙I̴͉̋̕ ̶͍̻̇l̵̤͉̈́͝o̵͆̍ͅṿ̵̯͒ȩ̵̬̋ ̷̙͉͝y̸̠͗ö̸̬́ư̴̲̆ ̵̝͝ͅÌ̷̘̕ ̶̙́̿ḽ̴̗̽͒o̸̭̍v̷̼͋ė̷͈͎ ̷̻̟̓͊ỵ̶̣̋o̸͓͛̃ů̷̥̦̕ ̴̛̰͕̐I̷̧̛̪ ̸̹̋̽l̶͍̇̋õ̶̪͝v̴̧͛͊ẽ̴̱̟̃ ̶̹͆y̴̦͍̕o̵͖̔̚ȗ̶̜ ̸̺̎̒I̶͖̙͑̊ ̴̙͖͝l̴̘͌ö̶̫̖́v̴̺͈̏̔è̴̞͗ ̶̞͉̀̌y̵̖͝ö̷͇̞́̈́u̷̼͍͋ ̶̨̪͗̌I̷̛̙͊͜ ̸̲̈́̽l̶̢̮̊̔o̵̠͙͒͘v̵̩͒̕e̶͓͒ ̴̨̯̌̌y̵̬̟̅o̴̧̧̓u̸̯͎͑͒ ̸͈̉I̸͂͜ ̶̼̑͝l̶̥̇̿ȏ̷͚v̴̥̣̑̀e̷̛͈͝ ̴̰̜̑̀y̷̫̋o̸̟͋u̷̞̠͆̏ ̴̤̹̋͛Į̷͎͊ ̷̢̮̓ĺ̴̥̖o̶̡̽v̶̟̭̈́ě̴̪͊ ̴̯̤̌y̵̨͝o̶̺͂͜ȕ̶̯̀ ̶̮̓I̴͉͂ ̸̜̍͊l̴̮̋o̷̳͎͝v̸̪̻̎e̸͈͔͋͘ ̵̰̇ẙ̴̰̠͆ỏ̸͓̖̓u̶̳͓̿ ̷̳̬̍I̶̬̩̐͛ ̶̩̆l̴̬͝ò̵̻̾͜v̴̞͍̒̌e̵̬̜͒ ̷̡̞͆y̷̧̏͝ò̴̤͕̚u̴̫̞͐ ̸̤̫̌̓I̶̙͆ ̴̪̙̃l̸̡̦̽͝ȏ̸̯̅v̴̰͂͆e̶̳͊̈ ̷̞̭̈́y̷̛̳̱o̵̳̱͒͠ủ̴̘̖ ̷̭͍̓̒I̴̠̬͗ ̷̞͉͋l̷̻̽͝o̵͚͈̾v̴̭͛e̵̬͗ ̴̙̾̕y̴̹̥͒͘o̵͔̠̎ứ̸̻͙ ̶͕̈I̴͓̥͋ ̸̢̅l̷͖̊o̷̢͇̎͌v̸͕̲̇ė̴͙̽ ̴̡͝y̴̗̋̀õ̸̝̹ủ̸̐͜ ̸̯́I̷͕̊ ̷͕́l̷͚͗͊o̷̩̱͋v̷͖́͒è̸̻̕ ̶͎̟͗̉y̸͖͗͒ǒ̴̖̘u̸̡̫̿ ̸͉̭͌̎Ï̸̕͜ ̴̥̜́̽l̶̥̜͠o̴͎̒̀v̵͕̗̚e̶̪̻͝ ̸̪͆y̵̧̰͒̿o̸͍͗u̸̬͊́ ̸̖��Į̸͇̔ ̶͇͘l̵̦̹͋͝o̴̩̍ṿ̶̙̅e̸͊͜ ̵̝͛ÿ̵̭̦͝o̶̦͚̽͗u̸̟̯͌ ̸̨̡̀Í̷͉̝̔ ̴̺͉͒̏l̵̺̿o̸͓̽̂v̶̝̏̒e̶͎͊̊ ̵̥͋y̸͇̱͂ö̷̤͔̏ṳ̵̗̆ ̷̼͔̓͐Ḯ̷̝̝̍ ̶̼̆l̵̖̰̇o̶̙͠v̷̞̎̀é̷͓͚ ̸͔̽̃y̷̛̛͖o̶̜̚ǔ̷̙̍ ̶̺͒̂I̷̡͂͒ ̵̡̟͠l̵̛̗͜ò̷͚̹v̵̟̏ẹ̴͎͌ ̷̙͆̚y̴̜̽o̶̧̖̓u̴͎̜̚ ̵̖͈͌͐Ì̴̗͔̓ ̶̻̎l̵̛͓͚͗ō̷̹v̸̳̝̿̍e̸̠̎̇ ̵̬̬̚ẙ̷̦o̷̖͌ṵ̴̆ ̵̯͇̋͐Į̷̯̈ ̴̭̇͠l̷̡̗̄̕ò̷̫v̵̞̤̂e̴͕̿́ ̸̳̘͗ỷ̶̢̕o̸̥͆u̴̡̯̿̾ ̸̭́̓ͅḬ̴͉͒ ̶̝͎̐l̶̡̻͐̌o̶̥͍̾v̶̰̮̈̈é̴̫͓ ̷̘͇̈́͊y̷̝̚o̵̻͒̓u̴̹̗̿ ̵̨͔̇

I love you.

Please don’t hate me.

Ṕ̴̣͎̣̉̏̓̽͜l̸̢̼͖̖͇͎͓̏̒͊͋͗̿̂͆̈͆͂̀̕͜͜ḛ̸̛̘͇͓̰̪͈̘̃̿̑̓͌̾̄͊̒̌͗͊̕͜͝ạ̷͙̰̤͎̄͋̾̈́̎̃̃̀͘͜͠͝s̸̛̪͎̝̠̜̼̼̳͚͔̜̱̒̌̊͛̿́̉̀̄ͅͅȩ̷̛͈̤̼̗̯̯̻̝̰̐.̶̡̨̼̹͎̭͎̗̜̮̖̅̓͐͗̽̕̕”

[starry-skies-116]

Edited ver. (let's play spot the difference lol)

[starry-skies-116]

"Beloved family of ours... back together again."

[starry-skies-116]

Compound, iridescent eyes, perfectly painted and crafted from meticulous hands, carved of glass and sockets of coiled metal circuitry blink. The dispersing fragments of the owner’s consciousness are slowly converging into one unassuming shard, reflective and watching the waking world- currently a dilapidated room, steeped in the dim embers of a faint glow, broken pieces of memories scattered here and there- practically everywhere, neatly scribbled on sticky notes.

Heart pounding in his ears, all other nonexistent noise muffled, Gregory still lies flat on his belly, ears pressed against the cold, dusty floor of the ground beneath him that has long served as comfortable bedding. He can only take solace in his tear-stained cheeks already burning red and hot, his throat sore from screaming, the quiet yellow thrum of the side of his temple conveying countless calculations and operations- a quiet, illusory peace, transient like the bubbles rising through water.

Ephemeral, like lightning flashing ever-brilliantly across the sky shrouded in stormclouds and shadow.

With one of his hands, he absentmindedly twirls a lock of hair, a sideburn that frames his face and falls over his ear- with the other, he holds a sticky note with his drawing of his family so carefully etched onto it- his parents, his two siblings, folded and unfolded countless times to satisfy his restless hands and mind. Feeling the texture of synthetic polymer paper in his hand, the brunette counts on the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his perfectly punctuated breathing, all constructed, artificial- all to keep him tethered to insanity.

‘I wake up to the sound,

Of the silence that allows,

For my mind to run around,

With my ear up to the ground…’

Pathetic, is it not? Voices jeered inside his head. That you’ve been reduced to nothing more than a sobbing wreck on the ground- weak, helpless, like you always once were.

He lets the voices seep like water up to his waist, taking a deep breath and submerging in his thoughts. The sounds around him are even more muffled as he swims deeper into the abyss of remuneration, of pondering- of how things had ever managed to get this bad, this fast. The acquired memories- pieced together like a complete jigsaw puzzle, converge and diverge, converge and diverge again, like a dancing school of minnows weaving in the water, their scales of silver and platinum glistening against the dark. Those beautiful, twisted thoughts shining whilst his imperfect heart, mind and soul were mired and stained in charcoal. 

How Gregory’s life had changed so fast, so simply, with a single bite, was far beyond him- a flatline followed by four more. Four quick swallows, four slashes for one destroyed woman- three sounds of bone-deep squelching that scrambled the body for a young man, a girl too young and goodhearted, and a man with a soul of ice and stone. Bones shattered, flesh torn apart- legacies now ash in the wind, a statistic carved onto the stone of a grave. How his name, all he was, had come to split into two.

All these tragedies that bubbled to his mind upon learning of the rumors, and yet he was the only one that somehow knew them to be true, even if they weren’t. All these broken forms, shattered souls to create the growing cracks and rifts in his family, the fissures only growing deeper as they spiderwebbed across the ground,

I'm searching to behold…

The stories that are told,

When my back is to the world,

That was smiling when I turned…!’

The hazy fog of white static, of numbness, thins and clears from his vision down to his legs entirely. Fire pricks the back of his eyes, burning from within his soul like a resolve born from the womb of rage- red hot rage. His temple throbs with the passionate burn of red seething through to his vision, thrumming with desire and grief.

Why wouldn’t the world expect crushing nonexistence for him, for everything he was to cease to be? After all, he ought to die- separated from a shard of himself still, blood, bone, flesh and heart reforged- slumbering underneath the earth for nearly more than half a century to awaken to a world brand new, he ought to die.

How dare the world act like nothing he loved mattered. How dare the world falsely mourn the tragedies of his entire world when it came crumbling down and melted to nothing before his eyes, then carve their names onto graves and act like they’re statistics jotted down in a ledger for future generations to study- as if their legacies, their hopes and dreams and nonexistent futures didn’t matter. As if all they could amount to in the constantly changing backdrop of the world was only a tragedian drama.

As if he didn’t matter, and they were self-aware about rubbing the fact in his face. As if he would never be worth anything in the eyes of the universe that had created him anew.

He shakes his head fervently- no, there had to be a purpose behind his creation, his rebirth! There had to be, there HAD to be!

How dare they.

‘Tell you you're the greatest…

But once you turn, they hate us…!’

Those days of mourning and searching amidst an impenetrable mist of his mind, of hiding in visceral terror and grief, touching his knees to his forehead and his ankles and heels to his palms to end every day with wet thighs, losing all track of time… those purposeless days of wandering… they seemed so long ago, now.

Gregory pats the back pocket of his shorts to ensure the sticky note is secure- his only reason to live. The only way his heart could possibly have been mutilated and cracked by such brutal emptiness- a fulfilled, happy life, inner peace, his home and his family: the past he had, and the future he could never have.

He could only hope that the amount of tacky Fazbear Entertainment merchandise he had on his person could mask the crushing weight of the world on his tainted soul.

Amidst the wandering of cream-collored walls patterned with countless beige diamonds, and flower vases of unbearable fragrance that appear plucked straight out of the Gardens of Babylon- the contrasting reds and blues, yellows and pinks pierce his eyes as he follows the blonde woman- Vanessa Anderson- down to the therapist’s office, marked by a gold label upon a dark wooden door. At least the sights outside the clear glass windows serve as an interesting way to pass the time while her sessions go by- his eyes glance up, and a satisfied smile quirks up the corners of his lips.

And at least he has a vent to escape through if all else failed.

‘Oh, the misery…

Everybody wants to be my enemy!’

The therapist peers at him with hazel eyes that glimmer as she clutches her clipboard to her chest- they peer upon him with a curious, doe-eyed fondness and amusement, evident in her words laced with honey oh-so saccharine, falling melodiously from her tongue. Sitting in the oversized chair, Gregory merely crosses his arms and continues assessing and evaluating the woman before him in the chair across, sitting at her maplewood desk, paying little mind to the way they coddle him so- he is no child. The days of innocence and foolish naivete have been long gone.

“What exactly are you wearing those gloves for, hmm?” she had asked, at one point, her raised eyebrows a question- calculations run through his mind once more, evaluating, assessing, strategically and tactically planning, meticulously thinking out the best course of action. Blue, yellow, flashing yellow, flickering back to blue. Patience, patience- timing, context, patience all are key.

To prevent any action from tracing back to me, he thinks. Plan the work, work the plan.

“They looked good, what can I say?” he answers.

‘Spare the sympathy...

Everybody wants to be,

My enemy-y-y-y-y~!

My enemy-y-y-y-y~!’

Night eventually comes to fall when he sneaks back into the Pizzaplex and crawls into the safety of the tunnels around Roxy Raceway, skillfully evading the security. The pale moonlight, sweet in scent like dusk, is a moment Gregory cherishes underneath the stars. The crumpled paper, warm and safe in the compartment of his back pocket, is finally taken out and unfolded, the distant remembrance of living, meanwhile, ever-bright in his mind like the brightest of stars, no longer entombed.

His family deserve nothing but the warmest and most welcoming of embraces from his arms, nothing short of the softest, gentlest kisses from his own lips to show just how much he utterly, wholly loved them- how much he would give just to protect them and care about them, care about something, once more.

The words form on his lips before he can stop himself, uttering them to his entire world, his eyes glimmering amidst the dark that cloaked his phantom presence entirely.

“I love you. And I’ll be ready.”

He’ll remain strong when the time comes, when push comes to shove. He won’t let them down.

‘But I'm ready.’

After all, he’s made his decision long ago.

‘Your words up on the wall,

As you're prayin' for my fall…

And the laughter in the halls,

And the names that I've been called…!’

The wails of the police sirens still surround him, bathing his surroundings in stark shades of napthol red and electric blue- the color of emergency, of urgency that threatened to turn into either tragedies or miracles. In this case, it was an investigation in the aftermath of a nigh-cataclysmic disaster- he clicks his tongue under his breath, a stark and neon yellow flicker bright in the temple of his mind from the slight strain, barely noticeable in his remuneration, in his pretending to mourn the lost futures that would no longer matter. 

He pretends that the sorrow weighs on his heart all too much as he glimpses the firetrucks pulling up, the firefighters already on the scene desperately trying to put out even the last glowing embers of the flaming piles of debris. He pretends to show repressed hysteria when medical assistance loads injured survivors into ambulances, the whole operation organized even despite the abruptness of tragedy brought by his hand to the public. The acrid scent of burning flesh claws its way into the noses of any unfortunate enough to wander near what remained of the carnage.

Casualties. That’s all the people back inside the building will ever be. All the world ever treated him and everything he ever loved as. Just statistics in a ledger, names carved into stone and planted upright in the grass to look pretty on the backdrop of the setting sun.

Gregory couldn’t go hunting down all the threats he evaluated after he had neutralized his five targets- those insufferable therapists- assessed and judged to pose a danger to him and his endeavors, taking them out one by one- that would just be extra work. What better way to make quick work of them than an explosion? A total freak accident, caused by volatile substances and poor fire safety regulations that somehow brought the whole building down… what a masterfully crafted cover-up story, if he must say so himself. No one would suspect anything anymore.

Now, he takes another bite out of the novelty pop that still refused to melt in the cool breeze- every lick, every swallow is strangely bittersweet, as if this disastrous summer evening reminds him of happier days. When the tear-stained gazes of others look his way, he pretends to look disoriented- confused, expression full of tears and prayers that no ill had befell him or his welfare. 

They look the other way, and he can’t help the near-manic smile twitching up the corners of his lips that instantly disappears when they look back at him again, those eyes full of shining sympathy. His true nature was that of eyes of glimmering light and darkness, eyes that harbored the reflected universe down to every last corner, roving across the aftermath like how a man might gaze upon an ant, knowing full well these sacrifices would never be in vain.

Gregory may regret this, he muses to himself. Is he sorry that it has come to this? After all, he valued life, and did the deed only because there was no other option, let alone a better one. 

One day, he could feel sorry for everything he’s ever done, have to swallow the bitter pill of whatever horrible things the world thinks of him as his sins weigh him down in the masses. One day he would probably look back on the woven tale of conquest, of love and grief, of blight and lies with shame and a disgustingly purified heart. Maybe one day, he will regret this path. But right now, euphoric and elated, heart beating happy from inside with adrenaline rushing through him like power incarnate, he feels only pity for these pathetic souls that he worked so hard to have power over- the world that has done nothing but kicked and spat on him, discarding his life like garbage. A pat on the back awaits him at the end, his successful chance to prove himself as he’s thwarted every attempt on destroying his life with perfect execution and planning.

Every glimpse of fury he rained down upon all those whom dared separate him from his dream. Every poor fool who was stupid enough to assume he was the helpless child he was in the past. He fell mercy to phantoms of the dark with only his plushies to protect him- now, he stood atop the world, feet planted more firmly into the ground than ever before. Feeling the best he’s ever been- dangerous, godlike, untouchable, unstoppable.

Ohh, how good it felt to finally walk the walk. And damn, did he walk it well.

‘I've stacked it in my mind,

And I'm waiting for the time,

When I show you what it's like,

To be words spit in a mic!’

Brilliant, cunning strategies are written down on the back of his sticky note- backup plans for backup plans, failsafes for failsafes if all else fails. Tactics, patience, meticulous plans crafted from the ground up- surroundings observed and thoroughly deciphered, enemy figured out entirely. No longer would he hide, no longer would he cower in the dark no matter how much blood pools at his feet. He’d plan the work, and work the plan- use his newfound strengths to overcome his weaknesses, seek out all forms of knowledge to further his ever-growing, ever-evolving mission.

No longer would the world underestimate him. He chuckled to himself absentmindedly, his feet dangling a few inches from the ground as he sat upon the swing and gazed at the stars- just how would the world react if they knew all of his true nature? Some may call him a villain- others a tragedy. Some a victim, others a fallen hero, perhaps even a psychopath- never a person. A person who had all he treasured ripped from him- who life was so, so unfair to.

No wonder he was mired in such chilling ecstasy- all his practice, all his hard work, all his planning… finally yielding results. Every challenge and pitfall was swiftly and successfully cut down without hesitation- he feels a semblance of confidence and pride swelling from within himself. He could finally be more than what others thought he was worth. He finally had control- had a name, was important instead of a statistic.

And he could finally have his family back together again, his happy life back together again, if he just continued to keep it up a while longer. How wonderful, indeed…!

His future wasn’t going to change itself, after all- there was always more plans to be made, more work to be done.

“No turning back,” he whispers aloud to himself. “Here we go- it’s all or nothing from here on out. Let’s do this.”

‘Tell you you're the greatest…

But once you turn, they hate us!’

Every accomplishment is something people would deem an atrocity. But he merely smiles and congragulates himself on his perfect, impeccable execution- they wouldn’t understand what it was like to be forgotten by the world- to have all you love suddenly not matter. To have the entire world turn against you.

Let them think of him what they will when they find out- opinions of the public are ephemeral, transient, ever-changing- all that matters is that he reclaims what has been taken from him.

All that matters is the future that never came to be- the wonderful, beautiful life he couldn’t live.

‘Oh, the misery!

Everybody wants to be my enemy!

Spare the sympathy~

Everybody wants to be...

My enemy-y-y-y-y!

My enemy-y-y-y-y!’

Gregory finds himself gazing at too-kind eyes, glowing cartoonish eyes that promised protection and unconditional love- a safe haven. The faint smell of metal and oil coming from the seven-foot tall animatronic bear in front of him, dressed head-to-toe in punk rock clothing, smells of warmth, of safety and comfort.

Tsk, you idiot! He chides himself. Life shall coddle you no more, have you still not learned?

Climbing into the previously uncomfortable stomach hatch now feels like climbing into home, and he nestles inside as though he were a baby being carried once more.

As though he could be weak, selfish, vulnerable in the eyes of this bear once more- but he shakes his head furiously, making quick work of ridding the thought from his mind. What was he thinking, they’ve only just met!

Be vigilant at all times, be weary friend and foe on this path. Be prepared. Be ready.

But was it really so right to withdraw an already outstretched hand…?

‘They say pray it away...

I swear,

That I'll never be a saint, no way!’

The faint thrum of the charging station surrounds them, the white, dreamless nature of a blissful and pure sleep untainted by nightmares evading Gregory. Not that he wanted such things, anyway- after many failed, half-hearted attempts, he begins to ponder, his mind begins to wander. He thinks about how he got to this point- what this all meant for him. What the future held in store for objects of creation reborn for some grander, larger purpose that continued to evade him.

His anger sealed, his desires semi-satisfied, the phantom sensation of a metal animatronic paw brushing against his fingers, hands intertwined with his… and what does he have to show for it? Nothing but a pain that knew no end, jagged and rough and scarring against all that had been formerly pure and unblemished. His fury is dampened by the quiet rain of his cold, short and sharp breaths, and even despite the way he curls in on himself, it refuses to be extinguished, just like the flame of his hope refuses to flicker out.

Just like true peace and happiness continued to evade him, when he wished to obtain the fate he had sown. Fleeting moments of joy- transient, evading him whenever he had to be separated from the animatronic bear that he had grown strangely attached to.

He barely holds back a silent chuckle- damn his friendly face and his all-attracting charm. Gregory never thought he’d be steeped in the purest, subtlest forms of happiness- love and peace also resurfacing to his mind at the thoughts of Freddy. 

Love akin to a child in the arms of their guardian.

His smile quickly falls as his thoughts derail and multiply.

‘A chair,

In the corner is my place, I stay…’

He couldn’t help the stupid grin that crawled up the corners of his mouth whenever Freddy congragulated him on doing literally anything. Why?

‘I shake,

And I think about the powers at play...

The powers at play!’

The garbled screams of Chica in the garbage compactor, Roxy’s surprised face moments before the Go-Kart collided into her, Monty crying out for help as he fell to his demise from the collapsing catwalks- they all ring pure and clear in his mind, and he can feel his sins slithering up his neck in the form of cold goosebumps, true to form.

Why why why. Why, though?

He scowls- just as he predicted. But it was not them he cared about, but rather… him. Freddy- the only one who would accept and love him, the only one who couldn’t know about the ways Gregory hurt all he cared about. The only one who couldn’t know the truth about him or what horrible things he had done to escape the emptiness, the cold, right into the arms of a warm, loving dream of family that he continued to chase- that kept him awake every single night.

Something has brought them together, and may he call it whatever he will- coincidence, fate, destiny, the ever-merciless flow of time that coerced the butterflies out of their cocoons only to fall to the ground once more with the wings cruelly severed from their backs.

Or maybe it was himself and his desire, the way he viciously fought his way up to power and stood in the shoes of someone dangerous and capable, that he had become.

‘And the kids in the dark,

That were doomed from the start!’

His mind flashes at how Freddy pauses ever-so briefly before saying his name- at how his snout and mouth just barely noticeably soured at the name that fell from his mouth. As if he’d rather be calling him by a different name- a more familiar name.

Gregory freezes. There was NO way he could possibly know about his friends, about his life, about what he was. There was NO way he could’ve learned of his other name.

NO way.

‘The child in the basement,

Face to the pavement…’

More memories resurface to his mind- Michael locking him in the basement on some nights while his friends came over, his surroundings taking on a new form. Perhaps this was prophesied by the hallucinations in the encroaching expanse of the abyss- it will have blood, the whispering voices once said to him- the voices in every nook and cranny, crack and impossibly miniscule hole in the wall, creatures caressing him and calling out his name with strange reverence and devotion on their disembodied tongues. 

Blood will have blood will have blood. Even in his room, where the sensations of comfort and home was supposed to reside, now remained no longer. Even when the eclipsing moon of scarlet and snow white contrasting ‘gainst one another comes to tarnish the rust red sky.

Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak. Shadows have been known to lurk and stalk in the darkness of the halls, echoes of chimerical sounds have been known to go bump in the night. And yet now, everywhere was the territory where unrealizing dreams dwelled, littered in the smallest lingering traces of the past like stars speckled across the twilight yawn of heaven’s black enroaching all living things, earthly lifeforms and concerns tethered to the soil as they yearned for the lands above.

‘Oh, what a statement,

Love is embracement,

Love is a constant!

Love is a basis!’

And here his heart remained, eternally broken apart, eternally unfulfilled, doomed to forevermore drift between heaven and earth. He couldn’t decide whether rebirth into this form of sublimity and perfection incarnate was a blessing or a curse that only exacerbated itself by the minute. He only remained because his fingers were on the precipice of something great, something wonderful and divine that no mortal goal of external pursuits could ever hold a candle to- he was so close to love, to happiness, to fullfillment and the future. So close to peace, finally. Finally. 

Finally able to make all the bitterness, deceit and mistakes worth it on the path of tears and blood that he had walked. Gregory knew that his path from the beginning would never be an easy one to forge… and yet he was so close to breathing life into that promise- that vow that had slipped from his reach every time.

‘He cannot be, she cannot be,

They cannot be chained…

But keep on praying…

Goodbye…’

The memory of his plushies making promises yet unbroken still lingered like the melting breath in the wind, left to rot like apples being plucked from their branches by the early morning chill of winter, left to rot in neat rows amidst decay neatly tidied and encapsulated.

The six virtues are still in his mind- the virtues of the reforged, something any elementary schooler has learned in fourth-grade history: protection, courage, resolve, devotion, truth and victory.

And in this supreme form, in this life, would Evan Afton bring to fruition a masterfully weaved dream to shame the world that had dishonored him and the legacy he could never leave. No shackles would ever hold him back.

‘Oh, the misery,

Everybody wants to be my enemy!

Spare the sympathy...

Everybody wants to be…!’

He picks himself up- and in the backdrop of a cruel world that continues to carry on and endure, he too endures.

‘Oh, the misery!

Everybody wants to be my enemy~!

Spare the sympathy,

Everybody wants to be...

My enemy!’

Reborn in the ashes anew, he fights to create the sense of belonging in a new world that he could never have- that was so cruelly denied of him. Moments of introspection cannot matter- he cannot hesitate, cannot be careless or wavering, cannot falter in this path he chose for himself.

Gregory vows that even in the darkest of times, he will never stop fighting for everything he lives for. The mission was of critical, paramount importance to everything he ever lived for and loved no matter what.

His life had no value until he gained something to die for.

‘Pray it away,

I swear,

I'll never be a saint, no way!

My enemy~

Pray it away,

I swear,

I'll never be a saint!’

Let the world think of him what they shall- the days of purity and carefree joy have long-since ended, the last sputtering and flickering embers of the flame long since extinguished.

All that remained was the emptiness of the space in his shattered heart he sought to fill, and a bloodied hatchet buried beneath the earth.

If living out a happy life was a sin, then he shall gladly become the worst of sinners- let the atrocities be his guest.

[starry-skies-116]

don't forget burnout and C-PTSD attacks followed by depressive episodes <3- oh and the hyperactive manic ones that follow it ehehehe-

but he's ok... most of the time

[starry-skies-116]

GREGORY POV (disclaimer he’s still an aromantic asexual):

“At first, I never understood love, or why it made people act impulsive and pathetic. Of course, I felt it, and it was there, it just wasn’t… fully present outwardly. Then I realized the gaping hole left in my heart by your absence. By both you and Liz… no longer being here. 

It’s as the saying goes- you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

I thought I hated you. We were really good at pretending we hated each other- that we wanted to hurt each other. I thought I hated you so much I wanted to choke the life out of you- I thought I wanted to see you suffer. But…

The more I thought these things- these horrible, awful things- the more I grew to miss you. The more my heart ached for you, yearned for you, burned for you.

Now, I’m scared, cold, hungry and alone- bittersweet tastes linger on my tongue, and I crave the past that torments me every day. Every waking moment, in my dreams, in my thoughts… I see her… I see you.

You, you, you. You.

All I think about is you.

You don’t hate me, right? You’ve always cared about me- that was the truth of it all, right? Why aren’t you here? Why are we lost, why are we separated and searching and swimming in an ocean of our own tears?

I can’t live without you. Please come back, please don’t leave me- I want you. I need you. I miss you.

I need you to comfort me, warm me up, fill my stomach and keep me safe and loved- I need you, so I can hold on to the last things I have left, so I can pull myself together and be strong like you always wanted. I’m sorry I hurt you, said all those bad things to you- and I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed you so many times in front of your friends, made you sad and angry and hurt.

And now and forever, I want to take care of you- I want to protect you, save you, love you and make up for all the times we hurt each other and made each other cry.

I love you. I always have and I always will, Michael.

So please don’t leave me.

I miss you, I miss you so, so much- every part of who I am aches for you. I want you.

I love you. I love you so much, Michael. I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you you you you you.

Please, please, please, stay with me. I miss you so, so much. I’ll do anything. I want you, Bubba. Mikey. Stay with me forever… forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever ą̷͉͚̟͓͎̫̦͙̩̇́̂̀̃͝͠n̷̗̞͙͚͎̻̻̠̣̔̔͊͜͜ͅd̴̛͈̠̬͍̪̆̽̃̐̅͆̈̋͒̕̚̕͠ ̶̨̜̙͓͈̤̤̻̬̝̭̱͎̅͝ȩ̵̡̮̟̭̪͚̳͗̀̔̇͜͠v̴̨̛̘̭̱̭̼̳̜͖͉͎͂͆̌͂̇̊̚ͅe̵̡̢͙̺̱̫̮͔̰̾͂̋̌͑́͘ŗ̴̢̟̹̪͖̼͉̘̠͕͙͎͌̀̀͌̓̄̄̈̚ ̵̻̰͕̠́̅̐ǎ̸̰̣͔̝̖̠̲͂̎̑̍͆͌̊̉͌̄̎͐̚͜͝ͅn̴̪͍̝̤͚̄d̵͙̻̏̓̽͛̂̏̚ ̶̢̧̾̾̀̈̅͌̎͆̆̎͘͝ę̵̜̦̼͍̣̠̗͎̠̯̆̀̓v̴̧̨̢̮̯̙̲͉̪͓̠͔̜̒̽̽̇̈́͐̇e̷̛̺̦͌̋͑̈̃͌̋̊͝͝r̶̡͇̯̠̦͓̀̋͌͋ ̸̛͚̤̤̝̥̞̓̑̌́̈́̈́͝ǎ̷̝̩͙͉͚͓̑̕n̸̨̢̰̣͙̲̜̮͓͐́̾̾̎̽́̿̃͆͘ḋ̶̖̟̞̙̹̤͎̤̑̋̈́̈́ͅ ̷̻͎͗̒̐͌̈́̐́̓͗̈͠͝͝e̶̤̳͉̮̭͎͎͈͕͓͚͋̈́̌̀̔͐̇́̅͑͐͝͝ͅv̸̯̙̗͚̩̭͇̗̅̆́͗̕̕e̵̥̫̙͆̾͑ṙ̸̢͉̦̜̱̩̳̖̯̳̈́̔́̃̉̋̀̍͘͝͝͝ ̶̥͙̗̗̏̈́̎̆̎̊̈́͝a̵̢̛̩̠͈̬̳͑͂̇́̎̽̀̚͘n̸̢̡̡̤͎̟̪̮͚̟̲̊̀̐̎̄̈̑̆̕͝d̶͕̍̈́̀ ̴̢͉̜̭̲͉͔̮͂̈́͊̈́̔̍̈́̐̚͜͝͠ė̸̪̜̗̋͊͂̓̈́̈́v̸̡̢̖̗̭̲̖͉̭̦̗͓̿̽̾̓͑̐̎̌̋͗̀́̓͜͝e̷̡̨̼̮͋̅͛͐̉͒̽̒͐͊̕̚͠r̴̨̛̛̜͖̀́͊͗̌̿̔̾́̋̈́͐ ̷̡̦̻̖̤͙̮͊̾́̀̃̊͘̚͜͝ͅa̷̡̠̤͛̇̓͗̿̚͝͠͠͝n̸̫̳̩̍̓͗͒̆̚̕d̴̢͖̜̪̺͇̦͖͖͖͓̰̅̑̋͌̓͐̓̌̑͜͜ ̴̙̗͈̘̯̜̈́̊̉̿̊̒́͜͜͠ẹ̵̪͔͚͑̓̆͑̓̆̂̋v̴̧̡̬̮͎̲͔̣̬͕͚̮̼͔̞̋̑͛͊̄̅̈̈̐̒͑͝e̷̘̠͈̲̯̘̫̮͍̤͙̤͇̤͑͌͊̎̽̚ͅr̸͍̤̈̍̈́̅͑̄ ̴̡͈͙͙̘̩͖̰̩̗͍̹̒̎̕͜͜ͅã̵̯̙̤̱̱̙̥͈̥̊́̎͜͜n̴̢̺̯̥̘̦͇̙̙̖͎̙̊̈́͒̿͑̌͛̾͐̏̀̇̆͝d̴͇̬́ ̶̧̧̢͔̱̥̠̫̻͖̥̟͎̣͓̈̉̂̀̃͋͋̈́͗̍͝e̶̛̱͚̞̤̫̝͉̩̼͐̆̈́̊̒̈̚͠v̴̮͒͗̐̾́͗̍̅̀͊̕é̸̟͆̊͘̕͘͘ŕ̷̪̒̔̒́́̀̅͗͑͂̚ ̸̡̧̡̟̠̦̮͍̜̜̹̮̓̐̄̈́̓́̆́͂͛͊̽̓̈́͐a̸̡͉̪̱̻̰̭̘̿́̒́̈́̍͐n̷̤͙̭̘͔̠̠͇̬̜̥͆ͅd̶̥̯̭̰͓͋̾̇̈́̅ ̶͚̥͈̱̬̝́́̈́͊̓̇e̵̬̙̙̓͗̓̍͛̚̕ṿ̸̼̼̱͇̾̐̓̈́͋́ḝ̴̤̖͓̝̪͔͕̫̬̰͈͊͂̍̎̒̓ȑ̵̡̙̖̘̼̩̝̜̣͉̠͔͔͔͑̒̎͗̓̀͘͘ ̶̧͈͉̳̳̣̬̯̻̹̗͙̦̠̙͗͐̈́̎̄̆̂̀̕a̶̢͚̠̤̤̖̥͓̺̪͉͚͚̐͊̀͌́̋͜ͅn̴̢̡͍̝̭̗̠̼̩̬̫̪̽̇͆̆͘̕ͅd̶̹̺̥̾͛̽̃͊̈̎͗̈́̔́̊̅̍ ̵͍̞̇̂͊̉̊̓̾͒̊̽̒̅e̴̡̨̨͈͉̰̜̳̺̗̩̫̾͜v̸̧̦̳͈́̓̇̓̽̄̈́̽͛̓̉̀̈́́ę̵̨̛̣͓̙͚̲̰̳͇̬̉͋r̷̢̗̗̲͍̥̜̲̠̜̝͙̬͍̀̈́̒͛̎̿̓̃͘I need you.

Please. I need you. I miss you, I want you, I need you.

And your little brother loves you so, so, so so so sososososososoooooo much."

[starry-skies-116]

(Updated version)

Eenie meenie minie mo, my mama said to pick the very best one...

And I am~

[starry-skies-116]

Credits to whoever made the original meme lmfao-