#cause its a nightmare with just a touch screen

[rabbittwinrithings]

I've been in a realm of a bad art slump of not liking anything I drew. WELL, WELL, WELL, WHO would have guessed it would be an OLD MAN to get me out????

[myung-heee]

horror game

pairings: bf!wonwoo x f!reader

genre: fluff, smutt

warnings: they played a scary game (rip wonu cause y/n just won't stop stressing the shit out of him), y/n had a nightmare, brushing, pet names (baby, princess..), oral (fem), face sitting, crying, protected (yazz)!!

wc: 2.5k

summary: you convinced your boyfriend to play a horror game, but instead of the game scaring him, your reactions stressed him out. as you both drifted to sleep, you had a nightmare that inadvertently caused him to wake up, well, you know what happened next..

"come on, it's not a bad idea" you pouted, giving wonwoo your best puppy dog eyes ever. he chuckled, looking up from his game. "but i'm in the middle of this one," he replied, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

you persisted, leaning in closer. hugging him through his shoulders, "but the game i want to play is way more fun.." You playfully rested your head on his neck. he flinched a little, gazing over you before he looked back to his sceen.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "really? and what game are we talking about?" he said, still focused on his screen.

you let out a mischievous grin. you stood up straight and walked towards the closet, carried a small stall, and sat beside him. "it's a scary game but its fun! i promise." you crossed your fingers.

 

wonwoo side-eyed you, fingers glued to his keyboard as he burst out a scoff. "a scary game? you sure you won't end up hiding under the blanket?" he raised a brow. you rolled your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "of course not, wonwoo. besides, you're the one playing the game, not me," you retorted, your gaze locking with his.

he turned to you, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. "huh? you want me to play a scary game? just me?" there was skepticism in his voice as he asked you. with an eager nod, you confirmed your idea, your smile growing wider. "yes, but im here beside you, so i promise i won't let you feel too scared." you added a touch of faux cheerfulness, your eyes dancing with mischief.

his lips curled into a soft smile. "baby.. i'm more worried about how you'll react than myself."

 

you scoffed.

 

you let out a light laugh, waving away his concern with a casual gesture. "oh, come on. i've watched horror movies before. this can't be that different, right?" he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "alright baby, if you say so, i'll just finish this one."

as he turned his attention back to his game, you seized the opportunity to push further. "i.. i mean, it's just a game. what's the worst that could happen?" he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. "is that a challenge?"

 

you bit your lip, "maybe."

he scoffed.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "please, i'm tougher than i look." he leaned back, considering your proposal. "alright, fine. let's give it a shot. but don't say i didn't warn you."

as wonwoo switched from his game to the one you suggested, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. but things didn't go as planned. you were a bundle of nerves..

shaking his shoulders as you shouted about monsters being close.

he just laughed at you, while you're there beside him, stressed af. he seemed oddly calm, making you even more anxious. when a monster chased his character, you hid your face in his neck and gripped him tightly. suddenly, he flinched, and you let out a squeak before smacking his shoulder and retreating to the safety of the bed.

he laughed at your reaction and his character's death. "guess that didn't go well.." he bit his lip looking at you.

peeking from under the blanket, you glared playfully. "yeah, yeah, say what you want to say." you rolled your eyes. he sat at the edge of the bed, grinning. "scary games aren't your thing."

rolling your eyes, you huffed. "clearly."

he leaned down, giving your forehead a kiss. "don't worry, you did fine being there beside me."

"and stressing the shit out of me," he continued.

you landed a smack on his shoulders, and he laughed. "you literally shook my whole body. i'm even more scared of you being beside me than the actual game," he hugged you.

you rolled your eyes as you felt him rubbing his palm on your back, soothing you in. "is my baby still scared?" he asked. his voice is now different. you shook your head as you clung onto him tighter. he placed another kiss on your forehead before letting you go. "you can sleep now, i'll play a little bit more," he whispered.

"the scary game?" you asked, and he shook his head. "no, i'll continue the game that i left before" you pouted. "okay."

but you just found yourself clung onto him snuggled into the mattress, his arms wrapped around you securely, pulling you in close. he nuzzled your face against his neck, his touch soothing as his fingers traced gentle circles on your back, lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

as you drifted off, a dream stirred discomfort within you, causing you to shift your body.

.

sensing your unease, wonwoo responded by pulling you even closer, his arm finding its way around your waist as he spooned you. he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tenderly combing through your hair, reassuring you.

you kept on shifting onto the bed, uncomfortable. wonwoo didn't notice it since he also dozed off to sleep. his hand was still on your waist as you moved backward and accidentally rubbed your ass through his front, making him flinch a little. he's still asleep, though.

your eyes opened, gasping for air, as you woke up from a scary dream. you moved a little, but you were stopped as you felt something on your back.

what the fuck..

you felt his hardness against your ass.

poor boy got worked up unnoticed. you bit your lip as you tried to turn around, but were welcomed with a groan from wonwoo as you accidentally brushed it against him again.

his grip tightening on your waist, he leaned closer to you. you could feel his heavy breaths on your neck. you tried to move again, but the hand on your waist was stopping you. "stop moving, princess.." it was almost a whisper. his voice is soft.

"wonwoo.."

"fuck.." he hissed. he lost his control.

he held your hips as he leaned your back against the mattress, roughly. you bit your lip and looked at him.. his breaths were deep. "princess, i told you to stop moving.. how many times should i have to tell you?" you gulped as he landed his arm on both sides of the mattress, locking you in. there was a hint in his face that he's holding on.

you both made love a couple of times before. just 4 or 5? and those sexes are intimate, and the last time he touched you was a month ago. he doesn't want to hurt you; he wants you to feel pleased and heavenly. he could never be rough on his princess.

but this case is different; you've been so stubborn lately. a little punishment wouldn't be a bad idea, right?

your cheeks are burning up at the idea of wonwoo inside you again.

he bit your neck, sucking it. you tried to run your fingers through your hair, but he held your hand in place. not allowing you to move, he hissed as his erection brushed against your thighs.

you clenched around nothing, letting out soft moans as he continued to leave marks on your neck. you could feel the wetness between your thighs.

"woo.." you whispered.

he stopped and looked up at you. "im sorry."

he was about to stand up, but you held onto his arm, shaking your head. "no.. i- i mean, i don't want you to stop" your grip was tight, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

you sat in his lap as you kissed his neck, careful not to leave a mark. he

gripped your waist as your lips collided again, tasting every corner. "can you sit on me?" you stared at him blankly; you didn't register what he just said. you tilt your head, brows furrowed.

he bit his lip as he scoffed, and he lifted his hand to brush the hair out of your face. "my baby is so beautiful.." he looked at your face and said, "you are so beautiful that you need to be worshipped."

he pulled you up, and you took that as a sign to take off your pajamas. you stood up and took them off. you're about to take off your pants, but he held your wrist, kissed you as he laid his back on the bed, and gripped your waist, pulling you onto his face. you resisted at first, not knowing what to do or what his idea was.

"sit on my face." wonwoo said sharply.

you gulped. he wants you to do what?

you slowly crouched onto his face, and he lifted your leg slightly to pull your panties down. he held your thighs as you leveled your between thighs to his face. you slowly lowered your legs as you tried to sit on his face.

before you could even, he held you in place. his grip has tightened.

he lost his patience with you. "when i told you to sit, sit. i don't care if you're worried; just sit. sit on my face." he sharply said.

you bit your lips as he forced you to sit on his face.

you gasped as you felt his tongue on your entrance. "o- oh my god!" you immediately held on to the headboard for support.

you closed your eyes as you felt his tongue lick. you could literally hear the wetness as he continued to fuck his tongue on your core. your body is burning up. you tried to shuffle your moans, but you really couldn't. "a-ah.. wonwoo," you panted as you felt your legs shaking.

you looked down to see his face; his eyes were looking at your reaction. when your gaze met, he immediately fasten his pace at your entrance, making you cry.

you held a handful of his hair when you felt you were already near; before you could even know it, he knew it already. he keeps on lapping your cunt and sucking your clitoral. his hand on your thigh as you began grinding your hips on his face, basically fucking yourself into him more.

your eyes closed as you felt your orgasm hit you. you tried to close your legs, but he held them in place.

as your orgasm washed over you, you immediately removed yourself from him and checked if he was okay—if you didn't strangle him, choke him, or anything else.

he just licked his lips and looked at you.

before you could even ask, he just flashed a smile at you. "you did well, baby," he said, kissing your neck and refusing to meet your lips, he laid your back against the mattress. he took a pack of condom from the drawer before putting it in his mouth and ripping the package.

he lowered his pajama to knee level before he placed the condom on his erection. he slowly leveled himself the same as you.

before he could even get inside you, he pushed a finger to check your wetness. he thrusted his finger for a bit before pulling it out. you hissed as he pushed his shaft inside you.

pain. you bit your lip hard as you felt pain brushing all over your body. pain—thats all you felt. regardless of the number of times you've had sex with this man, he always makes it feel new. he looked at you with a concerned face, licking his lip before giving you a kiss.

"a-are you? i can stop if—"

"no, please.. continue—fuck." you held his waist to pull him closer. he hissed as he moved inside you again.

"you're still... so fucking tight," he whispered as he began to gently thrust into you. "so good for me," he said, kissing your ear. he found his pace—not too fast, not too rough. but he made sure to hit all the spots since he's still worried and concerned about hurting you. he could never hurt his princess.

as the pain all brushed away, he got the hint and started thrusting so fast and deep inside you. you moaned his name.

"a-ah, wo.. wonwoo!" your brows furrowed, mouth open. closing your eyes. "ah," he moaned at the base of your neck. "fuck."

he kneeled in front of you and held your waist in place before pushing himself again inside you. he looked up and closed his eyes while thrusting at you. you moved your hips with him. you felt more pleasure from that angle.

you moaned his name when you felt another release. his thrusts started to get sloppy. "fuck—fuck! angel.. im cumming," he made one deep thrust and looked up again, panting heavily. you could see the veins in his hands. his chest was heaving.

he pulled out and stood up to go to the bathroom. you were left in bed, feeling so tired. wonwoo went back, holding a box of tissues and wipes. he was now wearing his pajamas. you flinched when he started wiping you with wipes.

you narrowed your eyes at him, and he responded with a cute pout, saying, "im sorry." your body still felt a bit sore, and you were sensitive to what happened earlier. "need anything? food, water, or a bath?" he asked, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.

you shook your head, a soft smile gracing your lips. "just a hug," you murmured. he chuckled affectionately before leaning down to cuddle you, wrapping you in his arms. it felt like a cozy cocoon of love and safety, his embrace melting away any discomfort you felt.

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2(here) | Chapter 3 | ...

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____________________________________

Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Paimon, Traveler

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3. Also, I may say that the characters other than the reader may be a bit OOC cause it's been a long time since I played genshin and I'm just finishing all of my works with my knowledge left from playing the game. So sorry about it 🙏🙏.

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You stood, motionless, your eyes fixed in disbelief upon the distant scene before you. As the wind cut through the air, a shiver ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The purity of the air surrounded you, carrying with it an intoxicating scent that smelled pure. The warm touch of the sun's rays caressing your skin affirmed that this experience couldn't possibly be a figment of your imagination. A fleeting thought of doubt crept in, but you quickly dismissed it; after all, you had never dabbled in any kind of drugs. This moment, as unbelievable as it seems, had to be undeniably real.

With careful fingers, you gently retrieved your fallen shoe/heel/slipper from the bed of plush, emerald-green grass. As you slipped it back onto your foot, your eyes instinctively wandered upward, transfixed by the expansive stretch of blue sky above you. It was quite unlike the very bright pixelated one you see on your screen. Everything that you see within the door was real and not a nightmare.

____________________________________

After composing yourself, you went inside your cafe, close the door, drag a chair nearest to the door, took a seat on the chair you placed infront of the door, and contemplated life. A deep heavy sigh got out your mouth as you continue looking the the strange thing infront of you. "What now? What do I do? Should I just lock it?" you asked yourself and looked at the door. Welp, well, there goes your master plan. Suprise suprise there's no keyhole and having a key would not make any difference. "Ugh."

You sat up and opened the door again, only to be baffled to see a different scenery other than the distant City of Mondstadt. The door was now currently in the Liyue Harbor. You closed the door and opened it again, you were now in Inazuma. Close, open, and now in Sumeru. Once again, you are now in Fontaine.

"Yeah bye." you closed the door again and returned the chair from where it once was. Contemplating what you should do next, your feet carried you around the whole café. You went to the counter and decided to make yourself something to help with calming yourself first in order to think clearly. It was a good thing that you had brought all of the materials and ingredients you needed in the café because you had thought of opening the café tomorrow. But with how things are now, you don't know what to do.

Teyvat is filled with many dangerous beings such as hilichurls, slimes, etc. You are but a normal human being with no experience in fighting and fighting your baby cousins was not enough of an experience to be able to fight toe to toe with monsters you have only seen through a screen. Yes, a gun would probably best to use but you don't have a permit for that and you don't want to be in jail when you have just barely open your dream café. But nobody had to know, right? What if-

A deep sigh fell from your lips once again. The stress is really getting in to you, huh? The bitter/sweet aroma of (coffee/tea/juice) filled your sense of smell. You were making your favorite, (your choice of coffee/tea/juice). After some time of finishing your drink, you took it along with a (pastry of your choice) that you had in your car, in which you had thought of eating to celebrate the opening, and sat in a chair facing the door. Taking your time in eating/drinking, many thoughts come and go in your head to solve the predicament you are in now. You had even thought of postponing the opening of the café until you had thought of a way on what to do with the door.

Of course you read the fanfics circulating all around the genshin fandom and one of the those that you have read was SAGAU where you might be the imposter or the creator of teyvat or you become a villain or anything in between. The most common of them was being an imposter. What if you were to become the said imposter if one day a person will open the door to your café? What if they kill you? What if-

*creak......*

Your rambling came to a stop as you looked at the door horrified. Oh no no no no no no NO NO NO! YOU JINXED YOURSELF DIDN'T YOU?! THIS DAMNED FATE-

'Oh dear God, Buddha, Allah, Deities, whoever higher being there is, pls help me...' you thought as you clasp your hands, praying to higher beings. Before you could even feel it, tears cascaded down you face to the table. "I'm nOt ReAdy tO dIE yeT... Ughhhhhhhh" you sobbed into your hands loudly like a child lost in a mall.

"Hello?" a person peaked from behind the door.

Fuck.

____________________________________

The Traveler, along with Paimon, was doing their daily quests until they saw something shining in the far distance. Their curiousity made them want to investigate it.

"Hm. Why is a door in the middle of the forest with no support or whatsoever?" Paimon mumbled as the door came into their view. The Traveler also had the same thought.

"Is it perhaps a magic door of some kind? I think w-"

*creak*

The Traveler stopped speaking as the door opened but from where they are right now, they couldn't see who opened the door and couldn't get to ask since the door closed with a loud bang when they were going to get closer.

"Well... that was something..." Paimon looked at the Traveler. "Traveler? What's wrong? BREATHE! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE AT THIS RATE!" Paimon brought tons of fried egg out of the Traveler's bag and smacked it into the Traveler's mouth and forced them to chew the egg.

After confirming the Traveler is back into top condition, Paimon asked them what the hell happened to them.

"I-I don't know. I suddenly felt something when whoever opened that door and the air around me became heavy that it became hard to breathe..." The Traveler shooked their head gently and sighed. "I also felt something strange. The energy of whoever is beyond that door, excluded an aura that is very familiar to me, but I don't know who or what it is."

"Hm. Paimon thinks that we should open that door and see whoever that and see if they truly are familiar to you or maybe perhaps this connection that you feel is related to your sibling!" Paimon twirled around the air, exaggerating her words with her actions.

For once, Traveler thought it was a good idea at first but there is also a flaw in that idea. A flaw that might cause their life if whoever is beyond that door is hostile and will kill them. It is better to be cautious then to be 6ft underground before finding their sibling.

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Taglist:

@udretlnea

[dreamsofminnie]

“Ethereal Paintings”

25~ Do not perceive my impending doom☔️

Scaramouche X reader smau | word count: 1,632

Anxiously they all huddle around a single lit-up home screen, occasionally murmuring to each other to shove over cause they can't see.

The wait for the ding of the following message took up seconds they couldn't bear to sit still for.

“How can a single message be an excruciating pain to wait for.”

“Maybe they got old fingers to type fast.”

“Okay, zoomer. Have you ever SEEN them??!? They are in their prime!! And still go on dates!!!”

“The ideal parents…”

“Okay but still…what’s taking so long??”

“I bet the other two aren’t even there yet.”

“Expected though. He probably needed a few dozen pep talks.”

“....and how was Ayato the one to do that and go with him??”

“Probably so Scara isn’t forced out….Ayato has a third key just in case…”

An unrelevant message popped up from scara on Kazuha’s phone. He reads it out loud.

“Do not perceive my impending doom. I’m likely to get shut out.”

Layla frowns and she shakes her head. “Her parents will warm her up first.”

“As long as they tell us they got in though…it’s been a while—”

*DING*

The phone lit up and the awaited message popped up. The blue-haired Kamisato grabbed her phone fast and opened it up for all 8 pairs of eyes to see.

“They’re in!!”

☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️

The door creaked open afraid to startle the resident and make a mess of the situation.

That was proved to be unnecessary as the pair peered past the dark and dimly lit studio. She wouldn’t have noticed at all. Only two large white eyes stared up at the intruders, its tail swishing as it sat over the resident like a gargoyle.

The woman’s lips frowned and eyebrows furrowed in apprehension and anguish. She waves her hand and the man gets her message.

The flutter of thick curtains draws open loudly, the room now getting beat with the rays of moonlight and the twinkling of the city underneath the building's height.

The noise couldn’t even wake the slumbering resident. Too drawled out in her vicious unhealthy cycle of mourning from an act of betrayal.

“Honey….” The woman’s voice was laced with worried concern for the view of her daughter sprawled across the carpeted floor.

But now that light is in the large studio did they see what lay beneath her was actually a canvas she scrawled all over in dark purple.

illumi darted away as her mother approached her body. Father looked at the cat and dug through his pocket, bending down he poured the cat treats into a bowl on the ground.

“Courtesy from your owner.” He smiled as he watched the cat eat happily and he scratched her head before joining his wife beside their main concern.

Father picked y/n up and the three of them headed to the bedroom upstairs. The only place that seemed untouched by her crazed despair.

Concern grew as they saw how rigid her body was in his arms. “She’s much lighter than her average weight…”

“...I saw convenience store snacks in the kitchen. Oh, my baby…” He lays his daughter down on the bed as the couple sits beside her next to each other.

Mother touched Y/n’s forehead and sighed in relief. “No fever at least. I’m betting on large migraines instead.”

“How should we wake our little darling artist?” Father grunts out as he watches y/n furrow her face restlessly.

Mother smiles nostalgically, Father gets the memo and they both place their palm on either of y/n’s cheeks stroking her face, she bristles and her face relaxes.

Deep bagged eyes blearily open in a daze. Her night terrors had dissolved from a familiar warmth as she took moments to recover her awakening.

“Our go-to way of waking you up when a nightmare consumes you. Better than getting terrified awake.” Mother giggles as she softens her voice and eyes. Leaning in she kisses her forehead which astonishingly melts the throbbing migraine, somewhat.

“Mom…dad…’m so tired. And numb…” Y/n struggled to sit up as her parents helped her up.

“Darling, you have no energy at all. Drink this, hot rejuvenating soup. 100% mother-made and she had the whole pot put in containers for you to save for later on.”

Father passes a thermos while the three get comfy and close to hold each other. Y/n sat in the middle.

Mother watched her gulp down the warm soup and waited till she was halfway done. Make sure she has enough nutrients for the heavy topic.

“Now…y/n. Why are you destroying yourself… Are you tryingg to have a more rough love story than ours?” She lightly teased to try and pry a smile from your sunken lips.

Having no energy to move a muscle and only lying on their shoulders, her lips mumble.

“I don’t...love him. He’s my enemy. Stole from me…my life’s passion. Didn’t consent to a.i feeding…Falsified his affection and…broke my heart.”

“Darling, have you ever gotten his viewpoint–“ Father got smacked on the head lightly as mother cut him off.

“We’ve chatted with the boy, albeit over text buutt, I can see him trying desperately to get you back. This is no story like ours, but I do think it’s time to return and face him once again.” Her words provided an unfounded warmth.

“You don’t have to accept any apologies, answer him, or force him to conform, just listen to his story. How else would you be able to debate with him?” Mother gives her a secure pat to go forth and face it.

“If I knew from the beginning I would've asked Papa to sue him...making a mess of art’s history…” Y/n whimpers and keeps her head down, he eyes puffy from lack of sleep and the sinking spirals of despair.

Mother quirks an eyebrow, curious and suspecting the real motive of all this. “My little artist…do you think you have to hold up the grandiose history of the art world I had a part in? All alone?”

Father's eyes understood but y/n scrunched up her face and body. She thought about it too much subconsciously that it was her job to parade around history like it was her legacy to maintain.

The berating thought of sheltering the traditional art from the wrongful social norms, she took it on herself. Building herself around a castle she wanted to protect, her walls having a gaping hole from a purple wrecking ball caused a collapse.

The wall feels lacking in her way of protection and slowly rebuilds. Her art castle is her only safe space and requires all her attention. The cracking walls tremble in another collapse, begging to open up the castle.

“And the walls have chipped y/n…I never asked you to uphold my reputation in history, nor will I ever carry such a weight. Sure I was important, but it’s the past now, oh my sweet color child.”

Tears welled up in y/n’s eyes. She couldn't let it go. Her mother was her idol, her inspiration. To let others mindlessly trample her past work was horrifying.

“Fear of A.I art covering up traces of the beautiful art I’ve founded, your fear drives hatred, dear. You’ve let it consume you. And you’ve let it destroy you.” Mother pulled your trembling body close and sighed lightly as she latched onto her.

“Do you hate how he tempted you, what he used against you, or the sinking feeling that he’s left the morals you silently pleaded him to follow?” She placed a kiss on her head while holding father’s hand behind her as she bawls.

Father ruffled her hair and followed mother to kiss her head as well.

“Let me tell you my view of our story. When your mother went off the radar, I was restless and worried. I didn’t dare ask one of her friends the whereabouts of her. I cared and soon enough my mind raced so often with missing her. Then I thought of a possibility of me driving her away permanently because of my ignorant bickering and debating. I didn’t want to be her cause of giving up and destroying her foundation.”

Father’s mouth curls bitterly following with a softer voice.

He feared he was the problem, that his stubborn rebuttals caused her to get tired of him. He hated how he was like that. But he couldn't help it. It was in his nature.

Is that what Scara’s feeling…?

“So when I saw her again, all shining in that much deserved spotlight and passion, I knew I loved her creative spark with each time I've ever thought about her in the 3 years she's been gone.”

He didn't want to leave that spotlight where she was the star. She shone to him in a way he knows he’ll never get to experience again if he lets her go.

Y/n listened, just like all the times she’d pay clear attention to their stories.

This time was no different, no matter how the tale was meant to free her, she wanted to be guided by her parents she loved so dearly.

So she opened her heart and head to these experiences; a gateway to guide her own turmoil.

But… How does he feel? Was I like a shining light to him…?

That thought made your heart wrench.

“She came back, with much more vigor than the last time I saw her. And it filled my soul. It meant I didn’t crush her spirit, and she thanked me for pushing her past her limits.”

“I was her revelation.”

“Her reason to start again."

“You are your mother’s daughter Y/n, pursue that soulful feeling again."

Now… did I have a right to go back to him after anguishing him as he did to my unwarranted goal.

Would he still. . . Pursue me with this obstacle i made. . .

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Synopsis{3}-> Scara decided to stop his a.i art creations when he realized that you are really his fav artist—as long as you were the one to teach him how to paint and draw. Facing multitudes of slip of the tongue from your friends; you figured out that he was your mortal nemesis; hatred brewed and twisted your view on him.

Lmaoo, i write Scaramouche’s name so much it autocorrected

Yayyy done, now to the fun part😚

Male POV🤤🤤

//Taglist//

@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r-blog @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @sketcheeee @ozzierenato @ohmyfinggod @kiyomi-hoku @ynverse @featuredtofu @reinoodle @angeilix @keizuk @sayokeshii @liuaneee @scarasbaby @peaceindreams @samyayaya

[neonovember]

Hi babes!

Could you possibly write a battinson x sunshine vigilante!reader where the reader is just an absolute sweetheart in and out of the suit. Like she's super sweet to literally everyone she meets but she's also a badass vigilante. Maybe her and Gordon are close friends and that's how Pattinson meets her and he is just absolutely lovestruck when he meets her for the first time. Like a love at first site kind of thing, he's just absolutely whipped and enamored by the reader. Maybe written from Batsy's pov.

Much love babes

thank you so much anon for sending this prompt! I know this is super duper late, but it was a wonderful idea I truly wanted to do it justice. I made the reader a little morally grey cause I think it would be a little different, so I hope you enjoy darling! Feel free to send in any of your requests and asks and even if it takes time I’ll make sure it's done. (who I write for)

Carved in stone

pairings: bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of drug trafficking, morally grey!characters, Gotham itself (its a warning alright), mentions of loss and grief, and a hint of touch!starved bruce if you turn it upside down and squint.

word count: 4.6K

The darkness that surrounds Bruce as he steps into his cave is one that he embraces like an old friend. The light that shines from every frosted window of the Manor stabs his eyes with an insistent twinge akin to a razor blade that had been left to rot on a windowsill during one of Gotham's thunderstorms.

There is a child-like fear in the air of the glacier cave sheathed in its darkness, the kind that materialises into green monsters and pale ghosts in the thin veil of nightmares. The kind that causes your parents to check under your bed, behind your clothing rack, in your closet.

Places where shadows and darkness would settle and make a home for itself. For most children, that gripping fear would outgrow itself over the years, replaced instead with reaching the 5th bar on the playground, failing driving tests, and falling in love for the first time. That was life, but Bruce Wayne was hardly a normal child. He had surpassed his pupils years before they had even begun to walk on two feet, and yet, that gripping fear of the dark still sprouted open deep within his stomach every time.

He has to shake it off of himself, as he reaches for his seat in front of the blaring screens projected from his desk. What he had found was too important to be tainted by the pathetic fears he allowed into his mind. Placing the contacts into the surveillance reader, Bruce combs through the hours of footage captured by the camera placed over his pupil. 

He had been trailing a shipment of drugs and armed artillery that was masked as a children's book delivery that had frequently made its route through Gotham's city streets. You didn't need to be Batman to know that it wasn’t the next edition of Captain fuckin’ Underpants being delivered to the underfunded children's orphanage. No, greed had taken over any sliver of humanity within Gotham governors long before the barrel of murders rocked through the suburban neighbourhoods and left hundreds orphaned.

He could hunt those killers down, but the crooked thug that had massacred his family was something Bruce would never be able to make it right.

The irony burnt a hole through the veil of what was left of him.

Gordon had been no help in tracking those marked vans down, whispering under the guise of the moonlight one night atop Gotham PD’S rooftop that it made his officers nervous. ‘Jittery and anxious’. Especially after so many of their dear brothers in blue ended up neck-deep in the underground crime syndicate they were meant to investigate, only to have their heads on a stick at the bottom of Miller Harbour.

Oh yes, Bruce knew all too well how greed had the habit of seeping into the morals of even the most respectable men, corruption had a way of appealing like salvation when you had no choice. That's what Gordan had said, and Batman laughed at that, shook his head and spit out in venom,

“There is always a choice, Gordon”

So it was up to Bruce now, the vigilante sheathed in darkness to uncover every small detail that could lead him to where these vans were heading too. This was different however, there was an unsettling itch behind his eyes, something pressing into his mind, begging him to see. And it isn't until he catches the flash of silver from the corner of the warehouse that he notices that someone else has been watching them too. Clicking on the magnified frame, Bruce leans in to try and decipher the glimpse of a face turned to the side, obscured by a black hooded cape that seemed to camouflage them into the darkness. The facial recognition software embedded in Bruce's computer pulled up nothing, not even a single trace of a face like theirs, obscured as it was.

Someone that lived in the shadows as Bruce did, someone who made it a home for themselves.

Bruce needed to find out who they were.

Now suddenly, Bruce has an actual reason to go to Gordan.

You rip off the latex body suit that enabled you to glide through the air, and shove your face into a navy hoodie in the backseat of your car parked outside the GCPD parking lot. It wasn’t safe but you had no choice, anonymity wasn’t pretty, and it sure isn’t easy.

But what you had found tonight, trailing after those marked vans that drove down the streets of Gotham like they fucking owned the place, was too sensitive to hold onto any longer than you had to.

Your eyes strain and survey the dark city streets filled with drop heads stumbling around and the thugs that fucked with them, for that same marked van charging towards you. You knew they wouldn’t dare come within the vicinity of the police department, and most importantly, you were smart enough to not leave even a hint of a trail.

It was irrational, but you knew enough of this life to know not to bet on rationality to keep you alive. You have to force yourself to shake it off before slamming the car door behind you and marching towards Gordan's office.

Officers decked out in uniform, glance at you twice before recognition fills their features, barking out hushed hellos and waves of acknowledgement towards you with confused faces as you walk through the department walls. You couldn’t blame them, your dark makeup had smudged from the humid air of rainfall and fog, and the incessant itch of your eye didn’t make it any better, even your cover outfit was washed in a deep midnight black.

They were used to seeing you in bright colours and skirts every time you met with Gordan to transfer any knowledge you had gathered the night before during your vigilance. Usually, you would wait until the next morning, when the mask of your pedestrian outfit and a sunshine smile would keep any questioning looks from the Officers around you at bay. To them, you were just a friend of Gordan who happened to actually like the last few pieces of Old Gotham. 

It wasn’t like you were putting on a facade, despite the incriminating outfit you wore now, you loved the colour as much as a child loves colouring outside the lines, your home itself was true to that. A true reflection of the warmth and sunshine you radiated, filled with potted plants hanging from ceilings and in corners, dyed pane windows that reflected warm hues of orange and yellow when the sun set over your studio apartment.

But that didn't mean you would let crime syndicates tear through your home, and this couldn’t wait until the next morning, no, no it was too personal, and oh how you loved mixing pleasure and business.

You couldn’t wait until you got their jaws crushed beneath your boot, watch their blood run through the city streets until it washed away all the crime, and the filth was clean.

You had a special hatred for people who exploited children, using them as a cover to transport drugs and arms had motivated you enough to spend the entire 3 nights straight documenting their every move, where their vans lead to and from when they would start their daily route of drug trafficking. It was imprinted into your brain, an obsession you would have to pretend was for the good of peace to Gordon, and not for your own twisted vengeance.

You don’t knock as you charge through the office doors of Gordon's chief floor, your connection to Gotham City’s Police commissioner gives you free clearance of the department, and your baked honey biscuits were good enough to bribe even the stone-cold assistant parked outside Gordan's office anyway.

You shut the door with an even loud ruckus, causing Gordan to sigh as he rummaged through papers stained with smoke scattered across his desk.

“Now what do I owe the pleasure of having Ms Sunshine in my office this goddamn late in the night?” Gordan says, not even having to look up to know it’s your loud boots against the hallway floors.

“Gordan” You reply, marching towards his desk until you are standing across from him.

“Yes?” Gordan replies, still skimming through the backlog of case files and police reports that seemed to double every night.

“Gordan.” You reply again, this time with an edge of urgency in your tone, and it’s sharp enough to cause Gordan to flicker his focus towards you.

“Those vans I was telling you about? The ones I’ve been trailing since August? I’ve finally found something, the cold must have loosened them up a bit because they got pretty fucking lazy” You start before Gordan cuts you off with a half-hearted sigh.

“You’ve been on them for months now Sunny, every bit of information you’ve squeezed out of them has led us to dead ends. Every time we’ve found a trail to their hideouts it’s packed up and shut down by the time we arrive.” Gordan replies before you shake your head quickly

“No, listen, Gordan, we’ve been looking at it the wrong way” You press on, but Gordan shakes his head

“I can’t afford the manpower Sunny, you know how my men have been feeling lately, the whole department is just holding their breath. Fucking restless, you damn near scared me marching in like that”.

You grit your teeth as you mutter under your breath, Gordan wasn’t listening to you, you didn’t need his men, they were all cowardly corrupt assholes on a power trip anyway. You just needed him, and he wasn’t listening.

“Sometimes you won’t always get to win every battle alright? It doesn’t work that way for us, you gotta save it for the big ones, the ones that are so bad you can’t even see them yet. You start putting your heart into it like you're doing right now? You’re gonna lose yourself along the way”

“They’re using fucking kids Gordan” You bark out when he begins another speech, you can’t help it. Gordans acting as if this is some small drug bust in a crack house. It’s way bigger than that, more sinister, it always is.

Gordan looks towards you wide-eyed, eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to talk before closing it again.

You see that as a guide to continue,

“We’ve been seein’ those vans' as transporting the drugs through the cover of the orphanage, but they’re only using it to get to the warehouse. We can never find the drugs on them because it never was, they’re using the goddamn kids to traffick it, Gordan, fucking middle schoolers”.

“Jesus Christ”

“Okay, alright-uh” Gordon mutters under his breath as he gathers the paperwork strewn in front of him. He reaches into an unmarked drawer, pulls out a white card, and scribbles a mix of numbers onto it you had never seen before.

“Take this-” Gordon begins, motioning to hand you the card before you shake your head

“Gordan-”

“Take this, and meet me tomorrow, please” Gordon pleads, looking up at you, you wait a bit before nodding and taking the card from his palm.

“Come at the same time, but maybe next time you come barging in you at least change first” Gordon groans, knowing the litany of questions he was bound to get hounded for the second you left.

You roll your eyes, “I did” You mutter under your breath before saying Gordan's name again

“Thank you, Gordon, seriously, you're the only hope I have left in Gotham you know, the only one who actually cares what happens to this goddamn city,” You say

“I’m sure that’ll change soon Sunny” Gordan hides a smile, nodding towards you, before you leave his office quickly. You are too absorbed with the hidden message Gordan had said just before you left, to notice Gordans secretary staring into your back, what did he mean?

You ruminate over it as you pass the officers and down the precinct stairs, piling into your car and driving through backlit streets illuminated by just the moon in the sky and the sound of bats.

The visions of the cries of children fill your nights and leave you restless in the morning. You know you shouldn't, but you spend the break of dawn surveying the barren city streets for any sign of their presence, and when your obsession leaves you coming up empty you pull over and step out into the harbour bay.

You stare off into the Miller manor, watching the violent waves of the river crash into each other. Some people had an unrelenting fear of the ocean, of what may lay in its depths, but you had grown to fall in love with its beauty.

It was simple in its destruction, washing away the dirt and filth of the world. You had wished to escape in it, swim down to the bottom where you would lay for eternity, let the waves crash into you and take you away from it all.

You spent the entire morning standing there, blinking back hot tears and the brick that formed in your throat when you began to think too much of what you had lost.

You went home, for the first time since yesterday, and slept until you forgot.

-- -

Decked out in a light-coloured skirt and your face free from the dark black eyeshadow streaming down your face, you marched into the police department once again.

This time the officers greeted you with a genuine smile, seeming to forget about the events of yesterday, and were even more elated when you uncovered the Tupperware filled with the cookies you had made. You figured food would make them forget about it all but it seemed Gordan had beat you to it.

Opening the door to Gordan's office, you can't help but let out a chuckle when you see the commissioner in the same position you had stormed into last night. Gordon perks up at the noise, rolling his eyes before collecting the papers into a neat file and walking towards you.

Gordan begins to say something before a loud commotion muffled his reply, you reach for your gun fitted into the holster on your waist, and shift your body to point it towards the door of Gordan’s office.

It begins to shake as the loud sound of metal on wood gets increasingly closer and you can't decipher it until it stops at the front of Gordans office to understand what it is.

Footsteps.

Your eyes catch the door handle and begin to turn slowly, and you take a tentative step closer to the door, forming into a defensive stance with your gun pointed straight ahead and your finger dangerously close to the trigger.

The door opens much like it had before, with a loud bang, and you aim your gun towards the darkness that follows.

“Wait!” Gordon screams towards you, but you don't dare to take your eyes off the dark figure missing your perfect shots. There is a release of compartments before the figure uncovers itself, and there he is, in all his beautiful and dark glory:

Batman.

Batman’s POV

“What the hell Gordon?” You murmur, the glow of the table lamp illuminates your features, highlighting every dip and curve and line and Bruce can’t help but stare.

“Listen, please put your gun down Sunny, I invited him alright? Because there is no one in this precinct who can help you half as much as he could'' Gordon says, and Bruce catches your scrutinising gaze that seems to penetrate him through his cowl.

He raises his eyebrows as if testing the waters to see if you'll really do it, but you sheath your gun back into the holster hidden under that patterned skirt that's got Bruce thinking thoughts he shouldn’t.

“Uh, I think this conversation is better equipped somewhere more..discrete. Follow me” Gordon coughs, before opening the office doors. Bruce follows the dark patterned shirt of Gordon back from a short distance, you by his side, the heat emanating from you causes Bruce to step further away.

Bruce moves like he knows the ins and outs of the building, his shoulders tense, and his eyes always searching, but his body moves fluidly through the halls like muscle memory etched into him and you can't stop staring.  Bruce catches your eyes once, his cobalt blues stare right back at you with no hesitation, a flicker of recognition flashes over his eyes and Bruce begins to piece the face that's got his heart stopping and his hands reaching all at once.

You shift your eyes to the wainscotting lining the walls of the precinct, and Bruce's chest burns with a desperate need to see you seeing him. Bruce didn't know what overcame him, it seemed like the fear of the dark was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again. Bruce didn't even know your name, just Sunny. Bruce wanted to see how it would taste on his tongue, speaking your name and having your reply.

“You sure you know your way ‘round this building Gordan?” You sigh, as it seemed you both were  through endless hallways

“We’re here” Gordon replies, before pushing a lever door that opens into the precinct rooftop.

Bruce steps out into the rooftop courtyard, the cold chill of the night breeze does nothing to the burning hot in his stomach, but your visibility shivers and Bruce has to stop himself from covering you with his own damn cape.

Gordan passes you his worn-out leather jacket and you take it gingerly before he nods to Bruce in understanding moving to the far end of the roof.

You step towards the edge of the roof, knuckles turning white as you grip the handrail and Bruce watches you gaze out into the sky-scraping towers of Gotham City, glistening under the pale moonlit sky.

“It doesn't look so bad from up here you know?” You murmur, and Bruce's eyes flicker from the city streets below to your gaze.

Bruce shakes his head “No, no it doesn't”

“But then, doesn't everything get uglier up close?” You continue, your gaze flickering back to the city skyline

“No, not everything” Bruce replies in a whisper, but it's loud enough to hear and you shift your gaze back to Bruce

“You were there, weren't you?” Bruce says, the recognition hit him the second you stared off into the city, that same dip in the cheek, that same mark on your jaw. You were sheathed in the cover of the warehouse darkness then, and adorned an outfit akin to what Bruce was wearing now, but it was you the entire time.

“I suppose it was, but how were you there, Batman?” You reply, eyes flickering down to Bruce's tall stature,

“Been trailing them for weeks, but every single thread of their trail-” Bruce says

“Is a loose end” You murmur, and Bruce nods in agreement.

“I know it may look like it isn't, but I've been after them for even longer, and it’s like this has become my entire life now you know? If they can’t be stopped, if I can't stop them then’”

“What’s the point” Bruce replies

You nod thoughtfully, it was why you had barely slept in the last month, barely ate, this vengeance, this thirst for justice, it consumed you. And now it seemed you had met someone who was consumed by it too.

“How did this” You gesture between Bruce and Gordan “alliance even form” You question, it didn't really hit you then but this was the known vigilante that had been plastered on the front of newspapers across Gotham, now standing, comfortably on GCPD’s rooftop.

Bruce hides a chuckle, shaking his head “It’s a long story, but you see that light projector there” Bruce gestures his chin to the signal hidden near the edge of the rooftop, tilted to the sky.

“It’s a distress signal, carved out in a bat wing, and whenever Gordan turns it on, I always come, no matter what”. Bruce says

“I’m not foolish, these people we're both after, aren't the normal crooks and pickpocketing gangs, and together we can put an end to all of this, and I know you I haven’t made the best defence compared to the hundreds of newspapers calling for my head, but I care, I care about Gotham-

“I know, Batman” You stop Bruce mid-way through his erratic tangent, reigning him back in with that heavenly voice of yours.

“Bruce” He replies, after a heated silence, and a flash of recognition fills you.

How could you not have pieced it before? You don’t know if Bruce sees the surprise in your eyes but it dissolves right back into the space between you.

“Bruce” You nod, his name taste sweet on you tongue and it has him yearning to hear it again.

“I thought I would be scared if I ever came face to face with Batman, but, all I feel, all I really feel is understanding. I know you, Bruce, I know you because I see myself in you. This long life of fighting, of putting your everything in your purpose. It gives you a reason to survive in this hellscape, but it also fucking destroys you.” You say, eyes searching Bruce’s .

“How did you get into this life?” Bruce says

“I know from this darn skirt that is yellow of all things it may not look like it but I’ve been fighting the plague of crime and greed that had taken over this city for years”

“First with the power of books that could lead me to become something those rich fucks needed and then with my fists after this city took something from me it had no right to. And honestly? I’m surprised I hadn’t run into you sooner”

“Don't say sorry because I’ve hated that word ever since it happened” You reply

Bruce nods, his grip on the rooftop rial tightening as he stares off into the city skyline, Bruce wore his loss like a tattoo imprinted on his forehead, anyone could see what the violence of this city had done to him without having to read the hundreds of newspapers detailing his parent's gruesome death.

But you, at first glance seemed like a damn tourist in this city, unfazed by the crime and death that seems suffocating to Bruce, radiating a kind of glow and kindness Bruce had long forgotten exists.

“And for the record, I don’t read the newspaper” You reply, causing Bruce to let out a chuckle

“Oh yeah? You’re too prestigious for ink on paper?” Bruce replies

“No, not really, I just like to get my news first hand, as an observer. My uniform may not be as prestigious as yours, but it gets the job done and is a hell of a lot more discreet” You reply, a smile pulling at your cheek.

“Discreet is definitely the word to call it, couldn't even decipher your face in a damn near million-dollar computer” Bruce replies

You look at him in confusion, but he simply shrugs in response and before you can let out a reply, Gordon comes back into view from whatever dark corner he had ventured to.

“Now that you have acquainted yourselves, why don't we find a way to take those sick fuckers down” Gordan replies, and Bruce catches the delighted expression that forms over your features. You nod enthusiastically towards Gordon's words, interjecting pieces of information that even Bruce himself had not acquired. Bruce watches you in your element, formulating a plan with a million other plans B’s, that same unstoppable desire to protect this city that drives Bruce to put on that cape each day, and it’s like Bruce is falling in love.

“So we’ll hit them from the orphanage rather than from it, hopefully, their lack of diligence continues in our favour, Batsy, you okay?” You reply, eyeing him in worry as Bruce stares back with a glazed expression before snapping back at the sound of your nickname.

“Batsy? Now that's a good one” Gordon chuckles

Batman eyes you in question to which you reply with a shrug

“Batman is too long, and I figured if you're gonna be callin’ me Sunny, I’ve got to give you a nickname too, right?” You justify, and Bruce fails to hide the smile that erupts across his face at the mention of him calling you Sunny.

“He’s smiling Gordan!” I made Batman smile!” You giggle, shaking Gordan's shoulders, and if Bruce could he would bottle that sound and keep it forever.

“That's definitely a first, isn't it Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce simply shakes his head

“Can we get back to what’s important here?” Bruce replies, but the smile in his voice is clear as ever, and you don’t know why but it fills you with a burst of joy in a place that had remained empty ever since your sister had left.

“Mhm” You reply, and Gordan shares a knowing look towards Bruce as if to say “I’ve found you out”, and for some strange reason Bruce wants him to, he wants the entire world to know he's completely enamoured and enthralled by you the second he stepped into Gordan's office.

“Alright, whilst you both were arguing over costumes, I got a distress alert from one of the squad cars surveying the area near the orphanage. One of the vans seems to be making some sort of detour, we’ve got to hit them now, I don't know when they will be this unprotected” Gordon replies.

“I’ve got a car waiting for me, so Sunny, you’ll ride with Batsy” Gordon replies, and Bruce doesn't have a hard time seeing the smile hidden behind Gordan's stern face.

Bruce bristles at the mention of having you so close to him in such an enclosed space, fearing you would protest out of fear of him and all the other insecurities Bruce had burdened. But you nod and smile towards him, and it's like every doubt, every worry is dissipated, and every anxious thought sounds so stupid because nothing else matters but you.

And so, just like moments before Bruce walks side by side with you down the endless corridors of the Gotham Police precinct, but now, with the heart scorching desire to follow you down a hundred endless corridors, to dampen the burn in his chest with your silken soft voice.

Bruce didn't believe in prophecies, or soulmates that transcended time and space, but right now it was as if you both were meant to be. A sacred bond that was carved into stone long before Bruce had started to lose himself in his own purpose, long before the fear of darkness had seized him all those years ago.

Bruce had thought you made a home in the darkness within you, but it was so different now. You embraced this darkness, this thirst like a mother embracing a child, carved it into you like a relic, until it transformed within you to become the light Bruce had been blinding himself to.

And Bruce pleaded for the first time, he begged to the midnight sky for the first time since he cried out for God to will the loss of his parents to be erased. Bruce was left with the bitter taste of a silent sky then, but now he’s on his knees, begging that you would make a home for him too.

Bruce wanted to take the darkness you carried, wanted to uncover it from your skin and bones until all that was left was the illuminating glow Bruce knew he would ruin. But he didn't care, for the second first time today, Bruce wanted to be selfish, and have you all to himself.

Wanted to feel your touch hold him until the burn of your absence was stamped away, wanted you to uncover his cowl and run your fingers through his hair, wanted to curl into your body and under your skin at night, wanted everything. 

Bruce wanted it all.

[faytelumos]

Into the Black With a Matchstick, pt 3

I'm keeping this as the taglist, but feel free to DM/comment/Ask if you want to be added/removed.

Please, if you haven't read the first parts in awhile, check out the recap I have linked for your convenience. :3

@c00kieknight, @jxm-1up, @midnight--architect, @robinparravel, @thepotatoofnopes, @those-damn-snippets; @thelazywitchphotographer, @tildeathiwillwrite

first previous recap

cw: bad math

---

Whatever the fuck the newcomer with Admiral Paxie was, it was not helping Adina's already overtaxed brain.

It had been bad enough seeing that Paxie was so huge they could barely even fit into the ship. It was bad enough that Adina was in charge of probably all that was left of the human race, that she had no way of figuring out if these aliens were truly friendly or just acting like it, bad enough that she was starving and dehydrated and high and had the worst God-damned headache she had ever had in her life.

And now she had to let some six foot tall cave-dwelling-mantis-snake-vampire walk around in the ship. It was like this thing was specifically made to be as creepy as possible, and when it got down on all eights—

She had dropped the ship's remote helm tablet, almost on her foot, and she was still shaking from the heart attack the sudden noise had caused her.

When they got to the bridge, which was thankfully open enough to allow Adina and John to put some space between themselves and the aliens, Paxie pulled the nightmare fuel aside. Adina subtly let out a sigh of relief and busied herself at the control panel.

Frankly, she didn't know what she was looking at. This was John's job. But the drugs in her brain were starting to prove themselves a bad idea as her body's discomfort reared its ugly head, and she couldn't stop thinking. Four times during the walk from the dock she had considered waking up a Marine to protect her and John from these monsters. And that wasn't the mind of a diplomat. That wasn't the thought of a leader she could trust.

Just get through this. Get through this meeting, and then food, water, and real sleep.

The smaller Xoixe stepped up to the LCD screen with most of the interactive display on it. John sidled up, too, probably to make sure Adina didn't hurt anything. Good.

"I heard this ship carries its life-forms cryogenically?" the smaller Xoixe asked. Adina looked up, and as soon as she did, John gently moved her hands and started clicking away at the panel's keyboard.

"Uh, yes," Adina replied. Looking up into the suit made it slightly easier than looking into four eyes and a big, sharp-toothed mouth. Maybe they wouldn't have looked so intimidating if her head wasn't throbbing. "Yes, our crew was specifically picked for the task of determining the viability of another planet for colonization. But the human lifespan isn't long enough to make the trip at our curr — with the technology we had." Adina put a hand to her face, pretending to wipe the sweat on her forehead, seeking the cold relief of her own touch. 26 million years…. "We were only supposed to be space-borne for 150 years…."

"If you don't mind my inquiry," the smaller Xoixe said as John kept typing. Adina looked up. The large alien had sat back on their haunches and was carrying their own tablet, made of a sleek plastic-looking material. "Is it possible for me to acquire standard medical parameters for your species? I'm a xenomedic, but since this is our first encounter, I have nothing to go on."

Adina stared for a moment. A xenomedic. So they'd brought a doctor aboard on their landing party. A group of three, and they'd saved a seat for a doctor. Adina didn't even know what the nightmare's job was, but when she glanced over, she realized there were no weapons on anyone. The nightmare perhaps could have used their claws, but looking again, their limbs didn't seem strong enough to hold Adina or John down if they started throwing punches. Both Xoixes had their claws entirely covered in their suits, and there was no attempt to make the suits sharp on the outside.

So maybe they really were friendly. Or maybe they did a really good job at acting like it. There weren't many ways to tell. Did this species even lie? How inherit was lying for intelligent species? Did Earth animals lie? Yes, Koko the Gorilla had told a lie. Had she learned that from humans?

The Xoixe was staring at her.

"Okay," Adina rasped. "Follow me."

---

"Lieutenant Harrison?" Paxie asked once Captain Ramirez and Ensign Kime were gone. Sergeant Klte shifted behind them, out of view of the little alien. Harrison turned away from the console after a lengthy delay.

These creatures looked more and more like prey the longer Paxie studied them. All except for their forward eyes. It was uncanny. Harrison's eyes were bright and round outside of their black, circular pupil, and it made it all too clear that they were looking directly at Paxie.

"Yes… Admiral?" Harrison said. Paxie shook their head slightly to focus their thoughts.

"Would it be acceptable for Sergeant Klte to take a look around your ship? We're curious as to how your vessel has lasted for so long in open space."

Harrison… laughed again. It was loud and sharp, and they opened their mouth and bared their teeth to do it.

"If you figure that out, I'd like to know, too," Harrison said. Paxie quirked their jaw.

"How do you mean?" Klte moved behind them, too.

"Our ship was meant for a 150 year journey," Harrison explained, still baring their blunt teeth. "Even that was ambitious for our level of engineering." They turned to the console and began hitting buttons. They were small buttons compared to the Xoixe's controls, and they clicked and snapped as they pressed and navigated. "We've made unmanned — that is, autonomous and without organic passengers — bodies before. To go into space. But even those tend to give out after a few decades. A-a group of ten years."

Paxie stepped closer and looked down to the readout. It wasn't intelligible; their suit was only equipped with an audio and radiation translator. Harrison gestured to something with their flat, soft digits.

"The requirements on the system for self maintenance, self regulation, and self repair on top of the requirements for life support and cryogenic maintenance are, to put it lightly, a-fucking-lot." Paxie blinked at the unexpected candor. Klte shifted, too. "Compare that against the life expectancy of our alloys in open radiation, extreme heat and cold shifts, and micro-meteorites, and this thing would have been lucky to land us safely if our trip got extended to 300 years." They looked up again. Paxie tilted their head, mind reeling.

Surely they were misinterpreting what Harrison had said.

Surely there was no way that a species would strike out into the open universe without both FTL drives and shielding dampeners.

"You don't have a significant issue with micro-meteorites…?" Paxie asked, and even as they said it, they were afraid of the answer. "…Do you?"

Harrison was bearing their teeth again.

"Oh, it's one of our biggest engineering challenges."

Paxie stared. They couldn't help it. They didn't know what to say. They weren't even breathing for a moment.

"You must have left in a hurry," they rasped. Harrison laughed again.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" they laughed, turning back to the console.

What did that even mean?!

Paxie was starting to feel light-headed. They wished they could take off their environment suit. Klte must have noticed their distress.

"Allow the Admiral and I a moment to converse," it hissed. Harrison flinched, then nodded, watching Klte. It gently pushed Paxie back towards the shuttle, turning off both of their translation protocols. "I'm concerned at this species' sense of self preservation," it said in the Xoixe language.

Paxie laughed, hissing the air sharply through their scaled lips. "Eme is concerned at how well they'd treat other kinds if they treat themselves so haphazardly."

"Exceptionally poorly."

Both of them laughed as they reached the pod. Paxie stepped inside where they could turn around back towards the ship.

"Take a breather, Admiral," Klte said. "I'll see what I can find out."

---

"Adina?" John called. Adina looked up; she was just coming back to the main control room now. The nightmare was still there, but it was down the hall, examining wiring bundles and the hull. How large was its forebrain? Was there a chance it could be tampering? "Adina."

Adina blinked and looked to John. He waved her over. She left the Xoixe's, Kime's, side to see him. He pointed to the numbers on the LCD screen.

"Can you double check me?" he whispered. She highly doubted it. She was a biologist; she knew how to clear her browser cookies and turn her phone off and on again. Anything technical on the ship was John's job now.

She looked, anyway. He was pointing at the ping count from Earth's homing beacon. It was around 800. She sagged to see that. The ping was supposed to communicate with The Solstice quarterly. So it must have stopped working after 200 years.

He pointed to the Most Recent Ping section.

19,406,771 years, 18 days, 16 hours, 2 minutes ago

Wait… what?

It should have been right around 26 million years ago.

"What?" she uttered, leaning in.

"That's wrong, right?"

"It should be…."

What could have done that? The ping system went off every three months. If it had run for… what, 5 million years? Then there should have been 20 million pings.

Why would Mission Control reduce the ping rate?

They wouldn't. Especially not after The Solstice failed to report a landing. Had something happened on Earth?

But, no, just like this ship couldn't last 26 million years, that pinger couldn't last 5 million. So what was happening?

"Wh…" Adina uttered, blinking. What was going on? What was causing this? Were both times just wrong? Was there a way to check? "Wha-what's the mission runtime?"

John stared at her for a moment before turning and hurriedly clicking away at the keyboard. She watched, and then she felt the nightmare get closer to watch, too. She stiffened her shoulders, but tried not to be too nervous-looking.

Hopefully, they couldn't tell. But she had just given Kime normal human biometric parameters….

"Holy shit, what," John whispered. Adina leaned forward.

Mission Elapsed Time:

60 years, 57 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes

"What?"

"One of these is wrong," John whispered. Adina looked up for Paxie and saw the nightmare watching her from the dark corridor. She flinched and gasped, slapping a hand over her heart, then turned to Kime.

"What are our coordinates?" she asked. "Do you have a star map we can see?"

Adina tried to calm down as Kime typed away on her tablet. One of these time ranges was wrong. But if it was the 26 million years (she desperately hoped 26 million years was wrong) then why had they gotten 200 years worth of pings? Maybe Mission Control was desperately trying to reestablish a connection? But 800 pings? That was a bit much.

Kime offered the tablet. Adina took it, and as soon as she did, the display somehow gave her an even worse headache. She blinked hard and moved the tablet away.

"Woah," she grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. John took it from her and grunted like he was straining to lift something.

"Shit," he swore, squinting at the tablet.

"Oh, no," Kime said, "you only have two eyes."

John huffed and offered the tablet back, then rubbed his eyes. Adina had her hands on her temples, trying not to squeeze her head too hard. The dizziness was back with reinforcements.

"How are we gonna do this?" she grunted.

"Do you have universal file translators?" John groaned. "Like the language? The audio?"

"We might, in a sense," Kime said slowly. "Let me make a call."

Adina nodded delicately so as not to jar her brain too hard. That seemed like a strangely cryptic response, but she couldn't think too hard right now.

As soon as they figured all of this out, she was going to sleep like the dead.

---

next

[amoristt]

PART 2 BAYBEEE this has completely revamped my love for marble hornets . anon i literally love u SOOO bad for reminding me of this time to binge the entirety of mh for the 10th time

-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - wanna tip me? heres my kofi!

Escape Fate | Tim (Masky) x Reader Pt. 2

prev

"For fuck's sake!"

The engine of your car cries out as you jam the gas down to the floor. Rock spit out from your tires, fishtailing out as you struggled to juggle the steering wheel and hanging up the cell phone in your hand. Every couple of seconds your eyes would flick to the rear view just in case that... person was chasing you.

Tim was never known for his ability to answer on the first call. Sometimes the man wouldn't answer at all- you knew this. It was never an issue until now, your mind scrambling to focus on the road. You'd narrowly escaped with your life and it was all thanks to some masked stranger.

With an angry huff, you toss your phone onto the passenger seat and white knuckle the steering wheel, eyes fixated on the road. Flashes of your meeting with death play on rewind in the back of your mind like a projector. The deranged look on Alex's face down to the moment you'd locked eyes with your savior.

Your mind spins on where your destination lies, but it chooses your home. You drive in total silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your car and the wind howling through your cracked window. It's almost like being on autopilot, your eyes distant and far away as you pulled into the driveway. Somewhere deep in your brain, you knew that you should have gone to the police station, but yet you still pull yourself from your car and numbly unlock your front door before slipping inside without a word.

It only takes a few moments before you let yourself fall into your couch cushions. You'd been so close to death you swore you felt its breath down your neck. The warbled memories you have of the masked man force their way to the forefront of your mind. You had so many questions- who was he? Why had he given a shit to save you?

Why did he follow you out to the street?

The thought of him possibly not saving you, just choosing Alex first strikes you, and it draws a cold sweat from your skin. Perhaps you hadn't been saved at all.

Worry spreads like wildfire through you, and in seconds you're up and locking every single window in the house, double-checking any doorways. You want to put on the deadbolt for the front door, but then Tim couldn't get in. You settle back on the couch, glad that other than the coffee table and recliner chair, you had a perfect view of the front door in case anyone tried to break in. The only window was along the far wall with its blinds drawn. Still, sunlight filtered in through the cracks.

A clatter on the floor beside causes every fiber in your being to jump, but when you glance over the edge, you realize it's just your phone falling from your pocket onto the hardwood floor. The screen lights up.

Low battery.

You pick it up and send Tim an urgent message, demanding he come over as soon as possible. And if he sees Alex, run.

Exhaustion riddles you. It doesn't feel real anymore, the memories flashing through your mind. They seem like the frames of a movie now, warped and far away and quite frankly insane. It felt like a nightmare that you'd woken up from, not reality.

After a good sleep to collect yourself, you would go to the police and tell them everything that had happened. And when you woke up, maybe Tim would be there smiling at you from the chair and asking if you were alright. He would touch your face and kiss your forehead, climb onto the couch beside you, and pull you against him. He would make you feel safe.

The idea comforts you enough to lull you to sleep.

--

You don't dream of anything. In fact, if the sun hadn't sunk down beneath the horizon and cast the world in night, you wouldn't even have known you slept at all.

Groggy-eyed and tired, you crack your eyes open. The first thing you notice is how unbelievably dark it is. From your position on your back, looking straight up, you can't even make out where the ceiling begins. Your eyes struggle to adjust, finding the only light in the room to be the streetlights cascading in through the window. With the blinds open on the far right, the light pours in just enough to fill the room midway in orange.

The second thing you notice makes your blood run cold underneath your skin.

You'd had your blinds completely shut when you fell asleep.

You were sure of it. But now they're open on one side. Your mouth runs dry.

Slowly, as if afraid to alert something, or someone, you roll onto your side and tap at the floor in search of your phone. When you're finally able to find it, you tap the power button. Then, when nothing happens, you feel your stomach churn.

It was fucking dead. You'd forgotten to plug it in before your slumber.

And to make matters worse, a third thing gathers all of your attention at once: movement.

Right across from you, perched up on the reclining chair, you make out a pair of jeans and heavy, dark boots. Fear strikes you like a lance. Your breath completely stops in your throat. In the dead silence, you're horrified to realize you can hear breathing that wasn't your own. Slow, long drawn breaths, like the figure was simply observing you.

Maybe it was Tim. You had messaged him hours ago, maybe he'd come in while you were sleeping and didn't want to disturb you.

"Tim?" Your voice cracks as you whisper, fear gripping you by the neck. Doubled when he doesn't answer. Tripled when those legs shift just barely. The energy seeping from the figure is downright evil.

Dread engulfs you as you realize your fate. It was Alex. It had to be. He'd broken in and waited for you to wake up like it was some sick fucking game to him, and trapped you within the confines of your very own home.

All alone, with your phone dead on the floor.

You hope you're just dreaming still. But then his breathing picks up and you're plummeted back into the awful reality that was your inevitable death. And instead of running, fighting, struggling for your life and doing something to get away, you just sit there. You remain still as a statue- like somehow he hadn't seen you. Like if you just don't move, neither will he. The moment is long and agonizingly silent, the air thick with tension, your lungs unable to bring in oxygen.

Time passes in slow motion and your eyes struggle to adjust to the everlong darkness. If you weren't abhorrently frozen with fear, you'd probably just burst out crying right there, pathetically begging for your life. You didn't want to die- not fucking now, when you knew the one finding your body would end up being Tim. Not by Alex, someone you considered your friend.

You always knew he'd been losing a few screws but for fucks sake this was murder.

"Please," You start, voice barely even above a dying whisper. "Don't hurt me."

That same feeling of death's breath on the nape of your neck returns to you. Goosebumps riddle your skin. The air so palpable you could reach out and grab it in the anticipation of his response.

The chair creaks. You almost gag on your tongue. The figure leans forward and rests his gloved hands on his knees. Light finally catches his features and you make out a white mask, with dark eyes and painted lips. That same mask that was running laps in your mind since you'd seen it.

Fear saps up and down your spine like electricity. The man had followed you home.

You hate that you stay stuck in place as he get's up from his crouched position and slowly saunters towards you. Like an animal, he climbs onto the coffee table and towers over you with shadowed eyes. Frantically, you search for something, anything human in those dark eyes. You find nothing but shadows. The man feels almost feral, tilting his head side to side as he drew closer to you. His gloved hand reaches out, and traces a line down your jaw, just barely touching over your skin.

Something in the way he touches you finally causes you to react. It makes the moment real, you could feel him touching you. You heave yourself up and try to scrabble off the couch, kicking your legs out. But he's faster. He's stronger- and in the blink of an eye, he grabs your shoulders and hauls you onto your back once more, forced to watch up at him with helpless eyes. When you try to shove him away, he catches your hands and pins them beside your head at the wrists. How simple it is for him to restrain you is terrifying. He wasn't even trying and he still managed to trap you in a second's notice.

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" You babble, eyes squeezed shut and your legs uselessly kicking out. He straddles you and you sob in vain. "Please, my boyfriend will be here any moment just- just leave! I won't tell!"

But the man just tilts his head again. Does it like he doesn't understand.

You're already in tears when he barely loosens his grip on your wrists. Dreadful reality dawns upon you, and you realize you had been right after all. He hadn't saved you. You escaped him just as much as you'd escaped Alex.

Tears slip down your cheeks. He just inches closer until you can hear the sound of his soft breaths from behind his mask. If God was around, he'd hear your endless prayers begging for the strength to get away or for someone to help you.

But clearly, he isn't, because the man lets your wrists go just long enough to touch the sides of your face. Slowly, carefully, they pet down your skin and wipe away those tears freely falling from your wide eyes. And Christ, you let him. You could be fighting back, snarling and clawing. Instead, you're barely breathing, frozen and feeling your life tick away by the second.

He dips his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers ball into fists beside your head, and you feel him breathing you in.

"What the fuck." You whimper, shaking like a leaf underneath his form. The seconds pass like hours.

After a tense pause, the only audible sound being your combined heavy breaths, he pulls his head away a few inches to look into your eyes. Though you struggle to see his, you can feel them on you like fire. Like those eyes are wrapping around your neck, choking your breath away.

And then you really do think your breath is stolen from you- gone when you feel the unmistakable texture of his gloves move once more. He runs his fingers down your bare neck, to your shoulder. Feather light touches over your collarbones that make you squirm underneath him. Those fingers linger over the line of your cleavage and your stomach flips.

They only stay for a few seconds. Then they're southbound which causes an even heavier pit of dread to settle in your stomach. His head tilts while he explores your clothed body, the fabric of your tank top bunching up around his fingertips. He moves them slowly, languidly, like he's exploring you. Trying to memorize the point where your waist meets your hips.

In the worst way imaginable, it feels... Familiar. You can't put your finger on it but you've been touched like this before, had the curves of your soft skin mapped out by wandering large hands. The same path, the same lingering pauses... The low sounds of his soft breaths reach your ears, and you recognize them.

Your chest heaves, your skin warm.

Only further blossoming in heat when the man leans back and you feel the weight of him rest on your hips. His hands settle on your waist, his burning gaze lingers over your form. The streetlight filtering in paints the outline of him. Glows in the loose strands of brown, messy hair.

Reveals his brown cargo jacket and the broad build of his shoulders. Your lips part in a gasp. His head lowers and you catch a glimpse of that unmistakable facial hair just as his fingers dip underneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Your skin vibrates under his touch. You can't take it anymore.

"Tim...?"

You'd said it so quietly that you almost wonder if he'd heard it at all.

But he did. He freezes and snaps his gaze straight to you. The first real reaction you'd gotten out of him so far- and it only further confirms your question.

Your mind reels, thoughts spinning out of control. It feels like you're dreaming all over again.

The man- Tim, straightens his back as he stares down at you, his gaze heavy and undeniable. Even fully clothed underneath him, you feel naked. So exposed. His hands retract from under your shirt and rest at his sides loosely.

You'd always known Tim struggled with mental illness. Even early on in the relationship, it was a known fact after you'd found his medication. He always refused to elaborate beyond just telling you he was 'managing' it- and though you of course always felt a sense of curiosity to know more, you didn't want to pry. Plus, it was true. He was managing it. You'd never seen a single outburst, episode, or really... Anything other than some paranoia. And even that never got the best of him.

Just as you were his, he was your comfort, your peace.

But this was something else entirely. This wasn't even him anymore- it couldn't be. This man was too animalistic, moved too feral for it to be true.

Yet this appearance rang true.

His thick brown hair, and squared shoulders. His usual attire and those sideburns that only he could pull off.

But you had to be sure.

You had to be sure that they shared the same face. The same soulful, tired eyes.

To your shock, Tim doesn't react when you prop yourself up to your elbows. Nor does he react when you slowly reach up with a tentative hand and graze your fingers along the hard edge of his mask. You touch at the side of his face- the only visible skin. He sighs when you make contact, long and drawn, almost as if he enjoys the feeling. Just barely, he leans into the touch.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

Drops when you tug at the elastic band holding the mask to his head, and he finally reacts.

Violently.

Tim rips away from you like you'd burned him and stumbles backward, failing to climb off you properly and instead flipping over the armrest at your feet. You hear his back smack the hard ground with a thud and then absolute silence.

The silence only lasts so long. Because suddenly there's clamoring, his feet kicking out, and by the time you're up and peering over the edge of the armrest he seems to be full-blown seizing there on the floor.

Now this you had seen before.

Like every other time, you rush to his side, mind completely forgetting the entire scenario that'd happened moments ago. As much as you want to grab him, hold him close until it's passed, you know you can't. Instead, you kneel beside him, covering your mouth, silently begging for it to be over with, counting the time in 30 second intervals.

The light outside finally shines over his mask. You see his eyes through the gaps.

Thirty seconds.

His body tense, finger's balling into fists. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.

One minute.

You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Minute, thirty seconds.

"Tim!"

Finally, like he hears you, he stills. Your heart thrashes in your chest.

In the blink of an eye, you're pulling at the bands of his mask. It peels away with little restrain, and there he is.

Tim. Your Tim. His eyelashes resting heavy over his cheekbones- like he'd simply fallen asleep. Like he'd been here the whole time completely unbothered. His lips are barely parted enough for his soft breaths to creep through. You aren't sure if you should feel relief or fear. All you feel is raw confusion and anxiety eating you alive.

First Alex, now this? What the hell was going on?

Tim makes a soft sound and you look at him with wide eyes, cautious in the waking presence of the man you'd once felt to be your protector. What would you do if he remained the same as before? If when he opened his eyes, you were assaulted all over again?

Another quiet chirp escapes him, and you reach out to gently hold his face. When his eyes finally open, you're the first thing they see. A part of you tells yourself to back away just in case. The rest of you demands you stay planted beside him no matter what.

You listen to the ladder.

His gloved hands come up to paw at your wrists and for a moment, you're afraid your worries proved true. But then, in his low voice, he speaks. And you nearly collapse onto him, a puddle of solace.

"Baby...?"

[orchid-mantis-petals]

WHEN HOME BECOMES YOU CHAPTER 6

/ Hi, Hola. I am absolutely covered in cat hair. Both my kiddos are shedding and had decided to literally pile on me while I tried to work out this chapter..Oh..yeah..CHAPTER 6 IS FINALLY HERE..MY EYES NEED A BREAK..

/ As always a HUGE thank you to my two besties @maximumkillshot and @taeminsung for providing love and inspiration to me throughout this fic. Your support and love are what keeps this going.

/ Genre: Angst, Fluff, comfort, a touch of crack.

/ Warnings: Anxiety, nightmares, yelling, screaming, food, oh and as always cursing..

/ Summary:

Hyunjin had seen anxiety, he’d seen it through Han. Even through Felix. But those were people who were familiar to him. His family, one he helped cultivate and create through the years. Over time he prided himself on having known the ins and outs of what may trigger the sunshine twins anxiety. You, however, were a complete mystery to him. Aside from your fierce need to protect them, which was your job. He didn’t know much about you.

“Y/N, my darling, oh little dove there is no reason to cry. You belong to me. Now come here, come to me,” his hand a vice in your hair as he dragged your face close to his. The soft tone of his voice was a lie, his other hand came to clasp over your jaw as he forced you to look him in the eye. “Don’t you see dovey, you belong to me,” you whimpered as you moved your hands to wrap around his wrist. Both of your hands worked to envelop his hand that held your jaw. With a tug you found his pressure point he let go with a yelp. You scrambled to your feet, the hard wood slipped against your socks as you tried to get away. You didn’t get far, in the inches you gained he snagged you by your ankle the force of his grip was sure to bruise you as you collided with the floor. His hands over you once more. He laughed as you cried in agony. “Beg for me Dovey!! Beg for my fucking mercy!!” He spat in your face fist wrapped in your hair.

Your heart ricocheted in your chest as you sat up out of bed. Ever since Japan your nightmares have had more frequent appearances. In between schedules you managed to get your number changed in hopes further contact with him would cease. Though it didn’t help the anxiety that seemed to rise. Tears pricked your waterline at the frustration. In your desperation you screamed at the top of your lungs. You were sure your neighbors would send in a complaint about you but you didn’t care. The sheer pressure of it all seeped out of you as your scream turned into a sob. No matter how hard you willed all of the pain surfaced through your cries. Your hands began to claw at your throat as you willed yourself to calm the fuck down. In your bed you rocked forward and back as tears spotted the sheets below your body. The world around you blurred as the salt water invaded your vision. Beside you your phone buzzed. But you didn’t hear it. Not while your chest tightened with the effort to try and bring in air. Finally with a choked gasp your body relented its torment against you. You began to breathe again, your sobs grew louder with the effort to breathe. This time when your phone buzzed you heard it. A sweet picture of you and Lix from Japan flashed over your screen. You willed your voice to calm before you slid your finger over the accept button.

“Hello??” Your voice wasn’t as even as you hoped, and the sniffle you let out didn’t add to your cause.

“Starlight?? Are you crying??” He’d done it now, with a shaky inhale you squeaked and affirmation. “Oh sweet thing, what's wrong??” Korea was your new start. There was no way you would drag them into your mess that had tried to follow you here.

“It’s nothing Lix. Just a bad dream,” you didn’t lie, evaded the overall question maybe. But you didn’t lie.

“Well, then I guess my call is well timed. Jinnie and I want to take you out and spoil you a little!!” Ever since Japan Hyunjin had become a friend to you. During breaks he would play with your hair or like Felix, he chose to stick close to your side. With the two of them Han also wasn’t far behind. Shyer and more reserved but he was always keen to speak to you. Changbin too, though it seemed Japan had changed his overall shy demeanor near you. Like Hyunjin, if he could, he'd stick close to you. Talk to you, Felix and Hyunjin made that hard sometimes the pair enjoyed your company so much they tended to monopolize your time between schedules or during breaks.

“Lixie..” the Australian insisted you used that nickname like the rest of his friends.

“Please, don’t say no. We’re already kinda here,” fuck..you weren’t ready for them. Let alone company at all. With a heavy sigh you slid from your bed. The sheets tangled around your legs in your fight for freedom from him in your sleep.

“I’ll buzz you up,” you relented as you walked to the intercom system at your front door. You hit the combo to open the front door and let them up into the building. Part of you regretted letting them have the address to your studio but it was too late now you supposed. When you opened the front door for them their shock was evident. Felix cocked his head at you, your face still red, a little blotchy from your tears. He scooped you up in one of his usual sunshine hugs easing the last of the tension that resided in your muscles. Hyunjin on the other hand, had this awkward look of disgust at the overall barrenness of your apartment. You had one small crappy couch, a bed and a night table. But really that was it. His eyes darted around casting the obvious side eye toward the unknowns of your apartment.

“You’d think no one lives here,” he covered his mouth the moment he said it not having meant to. His filter was all but nonexistent sometimes. “Sorry,” he relaxed at your chuckle.

“It’s alright Hyunjin, I don't own much. Those three boxes are all I really have,” you pointed to the tiny stack of boxes tucked away in a corner. Much like they were at Axel’s when they were in America. Hyunjin cast a look to Felix, the smaller of the two lifted his brows at the other. “Right while the two of you have your strange telepathic conversation I’m going to get dressed,” you slipped upstairs holding the hem of your sleep shirt down, having realized you didn’t really have pants on. You hadn’t thought to put any on your company was unexpected.

**** **** **** ****

Felix watched you disappear into the loft section of your apartment out of their sight. “Jinnie I’m worried,” when he turned around he found the taller had already begun to rummage through the small boxes you had pointed at earlier.

“About what Lix??” Felix stood at the taller blonde's side as he poked around at the contents within. His worries were disregarded for a moment. When the older looked up, the things in his hands were all but forgotten. “What’s got you upset??”

“Y/N she was crying earlier,” ever the empath when another was in pain Felix felt it too. When he heard your soft sniffle over the phone the slight wobble in your voice he knew something was wrong. Your time with them hadn’t been long. A month at most. But in that time you fit into their lives with ease. The day at the airport was proof enough to Felix that you were an asset to his beloved family. He’d hoped to get to know you, but you had been such a mystery to them. Even Changbin seemed to struggle to find out about who you were. You let them know the little nuances, hobbies, and foods you desired. But your family, friends, and life back in America they knew nothing of. Sure, most of them were the nosy type, case and point Hyunjin. Yet there was something that nagged at Felix when he heard you cry on the phone.

“Let her come to us Bokkie,” it was simple as that, unlike he was, you were closed off. Your pages were yet open for him to see. Hyunjin was right. You needed time to trust them. Whatever happened in America left a big scar over your heart, a mar in your trust. Felix vowed he would find a way to open you up to them. Prove to you that whatever happened in America was not here in Korea. Like a stray cat he needed to be gentle as he approached. “Today is a good start,”

“You’re right Jinnie,” he sighed as he leaned over the taller blonde to see what he had in his hands. Photos, most of which weren’t framed. Faces he didn’t know, parts of you he had yet to learn. Deep amongst the untouched carelessness that was the first box they found a framed photo. In it was you they recognized, your hair shorter than it was now, done up in some pretty way. Beside you a man, unfamiliar. It had been the only photo of him in the box. Seeing this man, the way he stood so close to you made Felix uneasy. He didn’t know why, but truly he wasn’t at all entranced with the idea of you being close to him. He wasn’t remarkable, eyes green, brows thick and full. Untamed hair in thick spirals, an auburn color easy to see in the sunlight that cast behind you both. The photo was well kept, the frame had seen better days. The top corner chipped, a thick piece of if missing from where it held together. In it the glass had cracked. It was the way it shattered that Felix could tell something hadn’t been right. He saw it in the spider’s web that crept across the photo. Its cracks creeped along severing the odd perfection of the photo that lay behind it.

“Why do you have that,” your voice a mere whisper, your steps so quiet Felix hadn’t even heard you come down from the loft. It wasn’t a question you asked. He knew it in the way you looked at them. Your eyes wide, lips set tight in a line. They had gone too far. And he knew it. “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE THAT?!?!” You screamed, he would have called it a yell. Would have, had he not heard the desperation behind your words, the shift in octave. Hyunjin was shocked, Felix could tell he was ready to shout back until he saw you.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to pry,” the taller male settled the photo back into its box with the rest of your belongings. But it was too late, Felix could see the damage they had caused right in front of his eyes. He watched it all unfold in seconds. The moment your eyes caught the framed photo in Hyunjin’s hand your shoulders quirked up tension set within them. At your side Felix watched your hands wrap into small fists as the trembling began to overtake them, your knuckles white with the efforts you took to keep them closed. He could see fear mixed with anxiety overtook you in seconds. Your eyes wide rimmed red as tears filled your lash line. You worked hard to try and blink them back. But he saw, he knew. It was all too familiar to him. The unsettled feeling of suffering that threatened to eclipse whatever else in the world mattered. The light in your eyes dimmed, you weren’t with them, he could tell. Trapped in the hellscape of your head he watched as a choked sob silently wracked through your chest. Your small hands made fists of your hair as you rocked in place.

“Oh starlight,” he hushed as he stepped into your space. He didn’t touch, not until you told him it was okay. “Hey there Starlight can you hear me??” The whimper that left your throat all but broke his heart. “I’m here. Lixie is here,” he called to you. His voice was low and sweet as he guided you back to earth, back to him. One look at your teary eyes had him surging forward to hug you. When you didn’t protest he held tighter. Soon your hands wrapped around him he moved to rub your back until he felt your shoulders ease some. “There we go sweet Starlight,”

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” you said, your face still tucked into his chest.

“It’s okay love, no judgment here. Han and I both struggle with anxiety,” At his admittance he felt you relaxed more to his touch until finally your body sagged against him.

“I’m sorry Cindy, I shouldn’t have looked through your things,”

“It’s okay Hyunjin, just please don’t do it again,” Felix let you go, though he was reluctant to. He watched as you carefully wandered to the open box your eyes scanned the photo that had set it all in motion. He watched with careful eyes how you flinched the moment you touched it. As though the glass had snagged your skin. But it hadn’t, it was the entire photo, broken frame and all that seemed to draw unease within you. Felix didn’t let you out of his sight, worried you’d fall back into the darkness of your mind. Quickly you covered the photo, he wondered what you would do with it when they left you alone. He worried, scared to think of you having to experience those emotions, the pain that the photo seemed to bring you all on your own. He hoped you’d reach out to him. Ask for help, but it was clear from earlier you were used to being alone. It was evident in the way you slipped away from them so easily. It caused Felix to feel his heart shatter for you. With you. He wished with all his might that you would come to him. He was snapped from his thoughts when you tucked your pinky into his, your smile small, but there nonetheless.

“Thank you Lixie, for calming me,” now was his chance

“You never have to thank me Starlight. I am always here to help. No matter what,” he’d hoped you would listen. Truly listen to him. That if you ever needed him he’d be there for you. No questions asked. Your smile seemed to prove that some part of his words made it to you. He saw the light return to you, return to his starlight.

“I say we go get breakfast, then we spoil you rotten Miss Cindy. As an apology for snooping,”

“I thought the goal was a shopping spree anyway,” Felix squealed with delight when you relented to letting them spoil you. “Oh!! Lix your clothes I need to give them back,” he tightened his pinky around yours as he shook his head. He wasn’t about to let you go. Not when you came to him.

“Those are for you. Keep them. You looked prettier in them anyway,”

**** **** **** ****

Hyunjin had seen anxiety, he’d seen it through Han. Even through Felix. But those were people who were familiar to him. His family, one he helped cultivate and create through the years. Over time he prided himself on having known the ins and outs of what may trigger the sunshine twins anxiety. You, however, were a complete mystery to him. Aside from your fierce need to protect them, which was your job. He didn’t know much about you. He along with Felix had hoped a peek into your apartment would be a look into your life. A chance to better know you. To his surprise your home was a barren expanse of even further mystery. A blank canvas over a blank canvas. That is how he found himself as he rummaged through what little you owned piled away for later concerns. When you screamed at him he was ready to fight back. Give you his all, but the look in your eyes he recognized.

Your fear was written out for him and Felix to see, eyes wide brimmed with tears. In that instant he froze. Your anxiety was foreign to Hyunjin. Unlike his boys he didn’t know how to help as your shaky hands gripped the hair around your temples. He was thankful for Felix. The younger guided you through the anguish that settled over your body. He saw it, a clouded haze surrounded you like a cloak. It enveloped your entire being, and for a moment he feared it would take you away from them.

His attachment, his curiosity over you was odd, even to himself. Hyunjin didn’t often bother staff. It was their job to take care of them. He was friendly, professional, and kind to everyone. But you, when he saw your face that day in the practice room, his heart nearly stopped. Yeah, maybe it had something to do with the fact that you kicked one of his members in the chest. But maybe there was more to it. Japan was proof of that. Even if it was your job, the way in which you protected his family, the way you put yourself in harm's way to make sure they were safe..It did something to Hyunjin. He wanted to get close to you, at first under the guise of making sure that his boys were truly safe with you. Then, you showed them part of you. He saw it in his hotel room.

The way you marveled at their attention, shy under his brush strokes. It was cute, he could see you blossom under their gazes. That was when he placed his emotions. The unknowns of who you were to him, the further away you seemed to keep them, the more he wanted to know. You would become his family too. You protected them so seamlessly he began to wonder was there anyone who protected you?? It seemed the answer to his question was no. Over breakfast you don't speak much. Barely ate even, remnants of your anxiety painted your actions thoroughly. Felix urged you to take a couple bites, just a few. With his guidance you managed. For that he was proud. Then finally he piped up, his heart couldn’t handle seeing you, his strong brave Cindy so lost in your head. His approach was odd, similar to how he would approach I.N, but he had to try.

“Knock, knock,” he reached over the breakfast table, his fist slowly came to rest against your head twice in time with his words.

“Hyunjin!!” Felix cried, his small hand wrapped around his wrist to pull him back. He stared at Felix, his eyes narrowed to look at the Aussie, eyebrows furrowed as his shoulders shrugged. The entirety of him read as ‘What the fuck was I supposed to do??’

‘Not that!!’ the tiny shake of the smaller blonde's head indicative of maybe he had made the wrong choice. But soon, the table filled with your laughter, light and soft. Hyunjin felt as though he was in spring, under the cherry blossom trees as their delicate petals fell to the earth below. His heart swelled at the sound of you. His own lips quirked upward as his hand fell to his side.

“Do it again,” he rested his hand under his chin as he met your eyes. “You’re so pretty when you laugh,” so you did, you indulge them with another soft chuckle before you stood.

“Well come on silly gooses, we don’t have all day,” your delicate hand wrapped around each of their wrists as you pulled them free. Hyunjin went along willingly. He’d go wherever you took him, so long as you looked his way. So long as you regarded his presence, he would find reason to be by your side. The mall was crowded, for an odd Tuesday in the middle of winter. Too far from the holidays for shopping, too early in the day for so many people. In his humble opinion. He and Felix pulled face masks up over their noses as they wandered the various departments around the store. Hyunjin was quick to note absolutely anything that caught your eye. Sure his wallet wasn’t infinitely deep, but he wouldn’t hesitate to spend it on you. They both of course had plans to take you to the Louis Vittion and Versace outlets. But those would be the last places they’d stop at. For now the three of you wandered around no particular goal in mind. It was Felix who cracked first, in the window display of the Build-A-Bear was a stuffy from one of the original Pokemon games he played as a kid. It took him mere seconds to drag you and Hyunjin inside. He insisted you pick a stuffy to go along with him. Hyunjin watched you hesitate over your selection, your eyes ambled the price, lip caught between your teeth as you looked at one of the more expensive bears.

“Get it,”

“But, it's kind of expensive, no??” Hyunjin shrugged at you as he reached into the plastic bin.

“We’re spoiling you. Don’t worry about that,” he then dropped the empty sack of fabric into your hands before he himself made a selection. The Van-Gogh Iris bear had his heart. Once the bear was settled into his hand he joined the small line behind you to get the bear stuffed. Your choice gave way to bits of who you are. Like his own choice your bear was printed with a classic painting. The soft bear was covered in the pale blues, whites, and dark blues of the Hokusai The Great Wave painting. When your bear was stuffed you and Felix stood beside him. The two of you watched as he asked the bear to be stuffed with medium hard filling. His cheeks went rosy under his mask as he completed the heart ritual that was a staple of the shop. At the naming station you refused to let them see what you named the bear. Hyunjin laughed when you claimed it was embarrassing.

“Fine, Fine,” he gave one last try only to be shoved aside by you. In the meantime Felix paid for the adventure. Outside the shop he watched you hold the bear in your hands. Your small fingers skimmed the seams of the bears back. The smile over your face was all worth it. It was slow, but every given moment he watched the light return to your eyes as you went further on this adventure with them. “Lix, keep her distracted,” he stated before he dashed off in a different direction. He didn't give the younger time to respond or ask why. His mission was clear at that point.

Operation: Keep Cindy Smiling is what he called it. Though he still didn’t know much about you, he felt he knew enough. Small nuances from his time with you told him you loved to cook, bake, a fan of the classic arts, and that you liked colors. Particularly dark greens, and purples. When he snooped he saw the faded pictures of nights out on the streets with neon lights, blurry for effect. On top of it all he spied a photo of you on what he assumed was a longboard. It was still hard to decide what to do, he only had so much time before you would begin to question his absence. Time he didn’t have to waste.

“Excuse me. Would you be able to help me??” When he stepped into the outlet he was immediately overwhelmed. The colors, lights, and choices had him doubt what he knew about you. He had begun to worry that no matter what choice he made you would inevitably hate it.

“Of course!!” The staff of the store was kind, she listened with rapt attention as Hyunjin explained his predicament. She guided him through different choices, all the different selections of colors. In the end he had made a choice, to the best of his ability. The clerk even gave him a few other stores as recommendation to visit before he would link back up with you and Felix. Hyunjin thanked her, his eyes gleamed with the choices he had made. The other stores were perfect just as the clerk said, he even managed to loop back to the first store and give the clerk a tip for all her kindness. To top it off he slipped her an autograph. He wasn’t sure she’d like it but it was all he could do for the kindness she offered him today. When he stepped back out of the store he managed to grab a few other things just to make it look as though he had run a quick errand before he found you and Felix. He laughed at the sight, from afar he could see Felix, his arms piled full of bags and boxes he was sure were all for you. The way he maneuvered was clear you had tried to take some of the load off him, but the australian wouldn't let you.

“Lixie!! It's too much,” he heard you say as he stepped over. “You’ve done enough please,” Hyunjin could see you were a little overwhelmed. Your shoulders hunched slightly up as your teeth worried at your lip. No, no he couldn’t have that.

“Thank you Lix,” he stepped in and scooped some of the bags off the younger and onto his own arms. He watched you relax, your shoulders sagged at the sight of him, a small huff escaped you. “Princess, Cindy. This is about you. No work for you. Let us take care of it,” he smiled as you relented a pout over your lips. He laughed as you turned on your heels and walked away from them arms crossed over your chest. He laughed harder as your steps caused your teddy bear to bounce a little from its bag on your back.

“Wait up!!” Lix called as they moved to catch up to you. There was more protest when they pulled you into their brand stores. You argued that they had spent more than enough on you, they only chuckled back.

“We’d give you the world if that was an option Cindy,” after a few minutes they compromised with a hand bag and sunglasses from each store, though he and Felix snuck in jewelry items. Your insistence that they could spoil you more later was enough to let you win. After they piled everything into the car Hyunjin watched you doze off in the passenger seat beside him as he drove back to your complex. It was nice to see you felt comfortable enough around them to rest.

“Thanks for coming along Hyunjin,”

“No need for that Lix. She protects us. The least I can do is provide her comfort as a thank you,”

“It’s more than that, Jinnie. You know it,” he did, he did know. It was so easy to see, so easy to hear. You had become their family. It was slow, some weren’t sold on you yet. But it was clear to him, and to Felix. You belonged with them. They wanted you by their side as long as you wanted it too. When he parked beside your motorcycle he was sad to wake you, the entire ride you hadn’t stirred. Not a peep, your body relaxed in a slight recline.

“Cindy,” he called softly, his hand moved to brush against your cheek. With a flutter and a small hum your eyes opened to greet him. “You’re home,” when your gaze slid away from him he felt his heart go with the deep pools of brown.

“Oh,” he watched you stretch out your body before you slid out of the car with a soft groan. He smiled as you drowsily rubbed your eyes, confused slightly by the change in surroundings.

“That good huh??” Felix asked as he gathered what he could from the shopping trip into his arms. Hyunjin grabbed the rest, he laughed as you nodded to them keys in hand as you guided them to the door of your building. Once inside he felt his body grow with anticipation, he had one last surprise for you. When they reached your front door Hyunjin took your hand in his, he smiled ear to ear as he turned you to face him.

“There is one more surprise, just please don’t be mad at me,” your eyebrow raised, eyes narrowed as you moved to open your apartment. When the door swung open your gasp was all they heard for a second followed by Felix’s confused voice, he couldn't see over the piles of bags stacked in his face.

“What!! What?!?! I can’t see!!” Hyunjn watched as your hand moved to grasp his wrist. Your small fingers landed over the pulse point tucked neatly under his bony joints. He knew in that moment you could feel his heart race under his skin, his hands were clammy with suspense. When you turned around to look at him he dropped all the bags he had in his hands. Tears rimmed your eyes, the delicate brown hues clouded with watery waves.

“Shit, I’m sorry. You hate it don’t you?? It’s returnable, all of it. We can take it all back,” he rambled, his lips moved faster than his brain could even fathom. In seconds he put the rap geniuses of his band to shame with how fast he spoke to you. With a gentle tug his body came to rest against yours. Your arms wrapped around his torso as you pulled him close. YOU hugged HIM. In the short time he had known you they had always been the first to offer hugs, never you. Slow, as to not frighten you he wrapped his long limbs over your shoulders. “You don’t hate it??”

“No, I love it. Thank you,” your voice soft in the fabric that lay on his abdomen. Your breath tickled his stomach, a shiver ran down his spine.

“What is happening?!?!” Hyunjin laughed at Felix’s struggle, when you parted from him the two of you helped the younger with his bags so he could see inside the apartment. From the doorway Hyunjin could see the fruits of his labor. The once empty space you called ‘home’ was now filled with furniture and art. Not all were hung. But the furniture was assembled, settled into the space. Felix gasped, reached around and smacked his bestie on the shoulder. “Nice work!!” The taller smiled, cheeks pink as he helped carry bags inside your home. They stayed for a little while longer, helped you arrange the furnishings, and decorate how you liked before they had to scamper off to an evening dance practice. You hugged Felix, then himself.

“Hyunjin, thank you again. This place feels like home now,” he smiled at you, his arms tightened around your body as you admitted to him his efforts had done more for you than he had hoped they would.

“Welcome to Korea, Y/N. My little Cinderella,” he kissed the top of your head, a reminder that this place was home, that he and the boys were there for you. If you needed them, they’d come.

TAG LIST:

@taeminsung @maximumkillshot @feybin @alex--awesome--22 @liknws @palindrome969 @newbbystay @highlydestiny

[ifidiedinadream]

Since requests are open, how about a «we’re platonic and we agreed to sharing a room, but there’s only one bed and things are a bit awkward» with aleksi x reader? Feel free to end it on a smutty note 👀

here it is, my masterpiece 😂😂

i kinda lost control of it i hope you like it anyway

also on ao3

You didn’t think much of it when you were making plans to see Bring Me The Horizon earlier that spring, when none of your other friends seemed like they could make it to the show. You didn’t think much of it when you traveled to the foreign city together, or while you were in line to enter the festival.

But when Follow You starts playing, the gravity of the situation dawns upon you at once.

Maybe it’s because live music intensifies emotions. Maybe it’s the suggestive light show, or the way Oli sings it differently than the other songs, all huddled up on one side of the stage, in a way that seems very raw and intimate.

Maybe it’s because the crowd forces Aleksi and you to stand closer than you’ve ever been. Maybe it’s how you keep glancing at him instead of the big screen showing the band, the lyrics drawing you to the man next to you, making you long for a touch.

Maybe sensing vicinity, maybe out of fear of losing you in the crowd, Aleksi snakes an arm around your waist. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him.

‘Cause I’m telling you

You’re all I need

I promise you

You’re all I see

Everything happens quickly. Aleksi is kissing you and you’re high on the kiss and the music. You catch his lips again when he makes to part, and he snorts and you giggle, but then he’s deepening the kiss with tongue and your body is melting, dissolving into the music all around you and inside you. Just you, Aleksi’s kiss, his hands on your waist, a heightened sensitivity to every little touch. There might be thousands of people in this field with you, but it’s actually just him and you. It’s better than a dream; it’s how it was supposed to be all along.

I will follow you

I will follow you

Aleksi’s touch leaves your side a few songs later. You don’t kiss again, and after a while it’s like nothing ever happened. You focus on the music, singing along, screaming, headbanging, watching the spectacular show the band is playing. Aleksi is having just as much fun beside you. You don’t have a care in the world and the show is cathartic.

However, all good things must come to an end. When the show is over, the adrenaline slowly makes room for embarrassment, and your head fills up with thoughts of the what if type. The ones that make you go silent.

Aleksi doesn’t look any better. Normally, you wouldn’t hesitate holding hands to avoid losing each other in the crowd on your way out of the venue, but now neither is reaching their hand out to the other.

Getting to the car is a nightmare, as it always is after festival nights. You and Aleksi manage to never lose sight of each other, even if you’re somewhere else entirely now with your thoughts – or not entirely, just a few kilometers back, in the middle of the pit of the Bring Me The Horizon show, passionately making out with your friend and happier than you’ve ever been.

Do I like him like that?

You get in the car, in the passenger’s seat. Outside the window, exhausted yet happy emos are wandering the parking lot. Many of them are wearing the black and blue t-shirt.

“Fuck.”

The car doesn’t start. Aleksi turns the key again and again, but you have too much on your plate now to even get alarmed.

“Should we call someone?”

Aleksi runs a hand through his hair. He’s good-looking, that’s for sure. His side profile especially.

“Helsinki is hours away. It’s way too late.”

Aleksi tries starting the car one more time. It fails.

“Let’s get a room nearby. We’re exhausted. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Aleksi hastily takes the key out of its place under the steering wheel. He’s biting the side of his cheek.

“Okay.”

You leave the car. You’re browsing the app for accommodation and hotels on your phone, and while there seem to be a couple of places near at hand, they’re either fully booked or ridiculously expensive – as it was to expect on a festival day. Aleksi is behind you, looking at your phone over your shoulder.

“Or maybe we could get an Uber…” he says.     

You keep searching.

“Uber doesn’t serve this area. Car sharing isn’t doable either, and the last train to Helsinki departed an hour ago.”

I almost sound like I don’t want to go home.

“Hey, look at this!”

There’s a hotel with an available room, and it’s fifteen minutes on foot from the parking lot. The price is fair. You look for feedback in Aleksi’s tired eyes.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.”

Relieved after finally settling on a solution, you book the room and switch apps to Maps.

Fifteen minutes feel like two hours on your swollen, aching feet (and the exhaustion is a perfect excuse for not talking at all, although your mind goes a hundred kilometers an hour for the whole duration of the walk), but once you’re there, you can’t help but sigh in relief. Aleksi resists the urge to throw himself on one of the chairs in the lobby, following you to the reception desk. You proceed with check-in.

“The room you booked is the only one we have left for tonight, but it has only one bed. Is it still okay?”

“One bed as in, one double-bed?”

“It’s actually a queen-sized bed.”

Aleksi’s eyes widen, and you’re pretty sure you match his expression. He turns to you  and you look at him back. You’re waiting for him to decide. However, his questioning look suggests he’s waiting for you to decide.

“It’s okay, yeah,” you say, but it’s mostly because the silence is making you nervous.

You finish up the bureaucracy-related stuff. The receptionist gives you the key to the room and wishes you a nice stay. You hope you’ll be too tired to even think of the current situation once your body so much as touches the mattress.

You enter the room. The bed is smaller than you thought.

“So, uhm,” Aleksi starts, “I can sleep on the chair if you –”

“Don’t be silly. Why would you sleep on the chair?”

“It’s a bit…”

“Awkward?”

“Awkward, yeah.” Aleksi scratches the back of his neck. “Also, there is no air conditioning and I kind of sleep naked, not that I have nightwear with me to change into, anyway.”

Neither do you.

“I see.”

“I’m used to sleeping in bunk beds. A chair for a night won’t be a problem.”

You feel sorry though. That chair looks everything but comfortable.

Aleksi excuses himself to the bathroom. You take your clothes off, they’re too dirty and sleeping in them would be gross. When Aleksi comes back, he’s only in his underwear just like you are.

Heat rushes to your face. Suddenly the parquet floor is extremely interesting. Aleksi turns around, rummaging in his bag he put on the desk.

Is it wrong to want that body close to mine?

It’s your turn to use the bathroom, so you go and wash your face, hoping it’ll help relieve whatever it is that’s going on in your head and body. It doesn’t do much.

When you come back, Aleksi is sitting on the chair, legs in a position that truly can’t be comfortable, even by his standards. He’s on his phone, a cable connecting it to the socket under the desk.

“There’s no way you can sleep like that.”

Aleksi shrugs, eyes never leaving the screen. “I’ve seen worse.”

You walk over to him, put a hand on his knee to get his attention. There’s a blush on his cheeks.

“Hey. You can sleep in the bed with me. It’s not a problem for me, if it’s not a problem for you.”

Aleksi puts his phone down, looking at you intently. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Aleksi lets out a sigh and gets up. You put your phone to charge and go to bed. Aleksi waits until you’re comfortable to join you. You turn the light out before you can get used to the sight of Aleksi lying next to you.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

You’re lying on the very edge of the bed, and since your body isn’t touching Aleksi’s at all, you figure he’s doing the same. It isn’t comfortable; it feels like you could fall at any second.

You take courage and lie properly. Aleksi scoots even farther.

“You don’t… have to risk falling off the bed,” you say into the darkness. You hope it doesn’t come across as eagerness, but as worry for him. Right now you’re not even sure which one is prevalent.

Aleksi waits a second, then finds a more comfortable position. You smile to yourself. Your shoulders are touching, and you feel his calf with your foot. It’s so little, yet it makes your heart race, and the funny feeling in your chest prompts you to reach your hand and grab his own, lying inert in between your bodies. Your heart is beating even faster, especially since Aleksi doesn’t seem to react at first; maybe he’s scared, maybe he’s already sleeping – but then he holds your hand back, caressing its back with his thumb.

You want more. You need more.

That hand, you slowly bring it to the center of your chest. This way, Aleksi will know what effect he has on you. This way, maybe he’ll realize it is what he wants too.

Aleksi lifts his head, props up on his elbow to look down at your face. The glint in his eyes is visible in the dark; his labored breathing tickles your chin. It feels like an eternity, but one of the beautiful kind – an eternity you want to experience, live to the fullest, one that will gift you with precious, soft, gentle times. One you waited all your life for.  

Just like that, Aleksi kisses you. You’re quick to grab the back of his head, so he doesn’t pull away if he suddenly realizes what’s going on. Your other hand finds his side, and you pull him closer to you, wishing that he’d get on top of you already. He’s holding your waist and his touch is so warm.

“Wait – wait.”

You go after Aleksi’s lips. You don’t want to wait.

He breaks the small kiss that follows. “What is this?”

“I don’t know,” you say, honest. “Just… want you.”

Aleksi’s breath hitches. He rolls on his stomach, half of his body weight on you; his leg is between yours, and it’s enough for you to feel him where your hip and our thigh meet. It’s only semi-hard but your head is already spinning.  

“Say it again.”

Aleksi buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses there. It makes you breathe deeply.

“I want you.”

His kiss travels down to your collarbone and chest. You arch your back when his hands go underneath, searching for the clasp of your bra.

“How do you want me?” he asks softly, tossing the bra on the floor. His fingers find one of your nipples and stroke it lightly. You gasp, throw your head back. He mouths at your jaw.

“Inside me.”

He wraps his lips around the nipple he isn’t caressing, The touch alone sends electricity down your core. You sink your hand in his curls to hold him close, rubbing your legs together before opening them, the pleasure making it hard for you to breathe.

“And… do you want me tonight only?”

Aleksi is looking at you, his fingers toying with the nipple he just sucked, the touch slick and extra pleasurable because of the spit. You clench around nothing.  

“No. Want you every day.”

Aleksi takes your panties off, then does the same with his boxer briefs. He spits in his hand and it disappears between your bodies. 

“Say it one more time.”

“I want you. I want you so much.”

Aleksi slowly shoves himself inside you. You’re so wet he doesn’t find much resistance, but still his movements are gentle and controlled to make sure he isn’t hurting you. Your bodies are flushed together, chest to chest, his face just next to your ear. You hold him close and wrap your legs around his lower back. You’re ready.

Aleksi lifts his head to look at you. He’s breathing through his mouth, curls falling in front of his forehead messily. You can barely make out his gaze in the dark, but you feel it on your eyes and on your mouth, hazy and heavy lidded. It’s hard to think of anything else than his cock inside you. It’s heaven. It’s completeness.

“I want you too,” Aleksi whispers in your ear, starting to gently roll his hips. “Every day. I want you every day.”

His thrusts are long and deep, slow enough for you to feel every centimeter of him; the pleasure builds up gradually, and his soft grunts are music accompanying the crescendo.

Your grip around his shoulders tightens, your nails digging into his skin when Aleksi loses some of his control and goes faster. You moan into his ear, the fullness dulling out your every sense, sending you into a pink fluffy cloud where everything is perfect and the promise of release is as enticing as ever. The sweat glues your bodies together and it feels like they were always meant to lie together like this, to move in sync, like they’re two parts of one, whole, much bigger thing.

You’re close. You scratch Aleksi’s back, moans growing louder, his name escaping your lips, urging him to give you all of him; and he does. The last few strokes are intense, yet not less delicate than the rest of this beautiful love-making. They make you feel adored and cared for and they tip you over the edge. The pleasure explodes throughout your body, everything between your head and toes overwhelmed by an electricity that makes you feel more than alive. Your body squirms and writhes, your throat vibrates, and Aleksi caresses you through it, looking down at you with tender yet dark eyes.

He lets you finish, lets your body relax and release all the oxytocin in the world, and then goes back to making love to you, and this time it feels a little more desperate. He’s breathless and sweaty and he looks like the personification of beauty and sex.

He pulls out just a moment before the orgasm: he strokes himself furiously, his gaze lingering on your face and body, his lip between his teeth, and then comes all over your tummy with a roll of his eyes and a broken moan. You watch his seed pool in your belly button, his brow furrowed as he looks down, his bottom lip sticking out and glistening with spit.

He stays like that, eyes fluttering open and then closed again, until he’s caught his breath. He leaves a peck to your lips before getting up to look for something in his bag.

He comes back with some tissues. He gently wipes at your tummy. It’s almost like caresses.

The exhaustion from the trip, the gig, the stress about the hotel room catches up to you and you almost drift off to sleep when you no longer feel Aleksi’s touch on you. His low voice draws your attention again.

“Did you mean it? That you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing? I know it’s late and everything but I… I need to know.”

You snuggle up to him, resting your head and hand on his chest. It feels safe to do so.

“You like me is what you’re trying to say?”

Aleksi’s chest rises then falls. “I guess. Yes.”

You sit up, giving him one last, long kiss and you fill it with all the passion you have inside.

“I did. I meant it.”  

[adamwatchesmovies]

Evil Dead Rise (2023)

Don’t let the semi-comical (though extremely gruesome) pre-title sequence fool ya; Evil Dead Rise is not a horror-comedy. I can’t vouch for the Ash vs. Evil Dead television series, but 2013’s Evil Dead wasn’t funny either. Not even darkly funny. This franchise now has two modes: splatsick horror and visceral, unsettling terror. While you may not gasp in fright often, what happens in this film is so no-holds-barred that thinking back at it, I shudder.

After learning that she’s pregnant, guitar technician Beth (Lily Sullivan) visits her sister Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland), nephew Danny (Morgan Davies) and nieces Bridget (Gabrielle Echols) & Kassie (Nell Fisher). Then, an earthquake hits Los Angeles and causes a concealed chamber in their building’s basement parking lot to open. Inside, Danny finds a copy of the Necronomicon, as well as recordings of its passages. Once played, the incantations summon the demonic Deadites.

The main cast consists of two adults and three children. I figured the main cast would be "spared" (except for psychological trauma or minor injury) while everyone else in the building would get possessed by the evil magic of the Naturom Demonto. I was wrong. Writer/director Lee Cronin gleefully tears his characters apart, leaving piles of red goo and severed limbs all over the place. What’s particularly unnerving is that you have no idea how our heroes will make it out alive. Deadites are not zombies. Shooting them in the head only puts them down for a few minutes. Once they get back up, Deadites can use weapons, may wield supernatural powers (beyond rising from the dead) and they can talk. More than talk, they can strategize, deceive and taunt. That’s particularly relevant because Deadites are nasty. Not just physically; they don’t play fair. You keep expecting this to be like a possession movie, where you can exorcise the demons out of people and bring them back to normal, but that’s not happening.

The word to describe Evil Dead Rise is “deranged”. When you see the ways people and monsters get stabbed, shot, dismembered, shredded, grated, torn apart, impaled, mangled and mutilated, you wonder what sort of person dreamt up this nightmare scenario. I knew I was in store for something traumatic when the rental screen gave me chills - remember, it's just a still image. In action, it’ll have squeamish viewers running for the hills. In a way, I think the makeup and special effects artists might have overdone it. It’s not that they’re excessive, it’s that most people will be wincing and covering their eyes so much that if the visuals had been half as good, no one would notice. Try your best to keep your eyes open, however, there are some great monsters in this movie.

This fifth, standalone entry in the series pours on the viscera but it also takes the time to craft likable characters. This means you’re equally excited and nervous when the madness starts. Yes, Danny is warned by his sister not to touch the evil-looking book but he grabs it anyway because it looks fancy and most importantly, expensive. He thinks selling it might bring the family some much-needed cash. The relationship between several of the family members may be strained but you can tell much of the tension comes from the unfortunate circumstances that have been piling on top of their shoulders in recent months. Sometimes, our heroes do make mistakes that make their situation worse but more often than not, they’re making smart choices and in their defense, no one could ever be prepared to handle the torrent of hellfire unleashed upon them. Things are not completely hopeless, but it’s not looking good. 

The only major flaw in Evil Dead Rise is the opening scene. Firstly, because it means everything is told in flashback. Being shown that more goes on after the events inside the high-rise end feels unfair. Even if the entire family makes it out alive, it’s rather bleak to know they weren’t able to contain the evil and that it “lives” on. The second reason to criticize the opening scene is for its tone, which doesn’t match the rest of the movie. I wonder if it was made intentionally more splatsticky so that the die-hard fans of Evil Dead 1-3 would give this film a chance. There is something to be said about catering to your audience’s expectations, but it's inconsistent.

Evil Dead Rise is a frightening, unrelenting deluge of horror and gore that keeps you guessing, shows you something new, and gives you something to remember all while forcing its likable protagonists through the wringer. There aren’t any big names among the cast but I wouldn’t be surprised to see more than one make it big in the future. I was impressed. (June 14, 2024)

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 4: First Set

A/N: Welcome to the fourth chapter of Top Gun: Baby, a love story following Bradley Bradshaw and Allie Campbell. This story is sequential, so if you have not already read the first few chapters, please go back and do so! All links to chapters and their mood boards can be found on my masterlist. This is by far one of my favorite chapters that is narrated by Bradley. This is quite a long one, so buckle up! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Intense swearing (This is a story set in the Navy after all), brief mentions of sex (nothing explicit)

Chapter Four: First Set

BRADLEY’S POV

“GET UP! UP! UP, UP, UP!” Emmett and I shot up from our bunks, the sound of people screaming in the hallway and our lights flashing caused our hearts to nearly burst from our chest as we were shot awake from our slumber.

Once I was able to comprehend that we were being awoken by our detailers, my heart rate began to settle. With the diminishing panic came the annoyance. I was in such a deep sleep, which is a treat for me. When I am in it deep, I don’t dream. There’s nothing for my imagination to focus on other than the black screen that plays in my mind for hours. It’s rare, and only on days where I’m exhausted that I get the pleasure of not being transported to my nightmares.

When I’m not in this deep state, I find myself dreaming one of three dreams. The first, and most common, was replaying the death of my mother. Except, it’s not how she died. It is more of a combination of how both of my parents died. I am the pilot of an F-14 when my mother ejects, willingly, from the jet. I watch helplessly as she plummets to the ground, begging me to save her. While it seems morbid that she chooses to eject from the plane, it makes sense. She elected to enter hospice care when the doctors told her that her cancer was entering Stage IV, knowing that even the best treatment wouldn’t eradicate the disease. She wanted to be in control of every decision she could make, until it was too late. To this day, I believe that she ejected herself from this world by dying when she did, the way she did. She refused to die in the middle of the night when I wasn’t there, and held on until my hand was wrapped tightly around hers. And my dad, well, we all know how that happened. I have no memories of it, and my mother never spoke about it. He could never find the right words to describe the accident, so I had to resort to asking Hollywood about it when I was in middle school.

***

“He was flying with your dad at Top Gun,” Hollywood explained to the young Bradley, who was sitting on the carpet next to him. Hollywood put down his beer, knowing that this was going to be a long and serious conversation with The Kid.

“Did he burn?” Bradley asked innocently, thinking that the only flight accidents that happened were ones when they crashed and burned, or ones where a fire started inside the cockpit.

“No,” Hollywood said, holding back a chuckle at the innocence of young Bradley. “He was trying to get out. He was trying to save Maverick.” Bradley looked over at his adopted father figure, who was talking with other members of his Top Gun class, not knowing what the two were talking about.

Bradley felt a smidge of jealousy at the fact that Maverick was able to get out of the plane, and his dad was not. Yet, at the same time Bradley was proud of his dad. He put someone else’s life above his own and was able to save him. He was a hero.

“Then he crashed?” Bradley asked, more curious now than ever about learning more.

“He got out,” Hollywood said, with a touch of sadness in his voice, “but then his head hit the top of the airplane. Even though he was wearing his helmet, he still got hurt pretty bad.”

“Then he died?”

“No, little man. Not right away,” Hollywood looked over at Maverick, sharing a glance together. The sadness and recollection stretched across Hollywood’s face gave everything away to Maverick. Pete looked over at Bradley and then back at Rick, nodding his head in approval. It was time he knew. “He was unconscious, but was alive for a few more hours. You and your mom made it to his room right when he let go. It was like he waited for you or something. You and Carole were with him. Your mom was at his side and you were snuggled up on his chest.”

Bradley sniffled as he held back tears, not wanting to hear anymore.

It wasn’t until he was in high school when his mom sat him down and told him the FULL story. The parts where Maverick lost control of the plane after Iceman flew by them recklessly.

Bradley wanted to be mad, but couldn’t. For years, he was under the impression that his father saved his second father. His best friend. Someone he told everything to. And Iceman was the only one he knew on the team that encouraged him to pursue flying if he wanted, and promised he would let him one day when he was older. No, he couldn’t be mad. But his impression of it all did change.

***

The second dream I have is a replay of the conversation that he had with me right before my graduation. This dream was less frequent, but always managed to make an appearance at least twice a week.

My third, and the least frequent, was the last day I spent with Danielle.

***

“Please,” she muttered to Bradley, tears falling down her face as she sat next to him on the couch, their bodies facing each other.

“Shhh,” He comforted her, cupping his face with her hand and running his thumb up and down her cheek. “You know we can't.” he whispered.

Danielle burst into tears as he pulled her into his chest, snaking his hand through her brown hair as he supported the back of her head. His other hand supported the small of her back, holding back the tears that were threatening to escape his own eyes.

He loved her, and in turn, he had to let her go. He pulled her away and looked into her deep brown eyes, his glazed with the salt water that was moments away from falling, but he held back. He held back for her. He was determined to be strong. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. He wanted to give her something to hold onto when she found out he died in battle from the local newspaper. So, he pulled her in close and covered her lips with his, letting their love blossom one more time before it dried out and fell to the hard ground.

***

I didn’t mind having this dream, especially when it got to the final parts. I can still feel every kiss, every thrust, every touch. It was like my own personal consequence to a choice that I sometimes wish I didn’t make.

But when I was in a deep sleep, everything went peacefully blank. Whatever dream that was currently playing was interrupted, or never occurred in the first place. This was exactly how my first night at the Academy was like. Everything was black from the minute I closed my eyes. It maybe only took 5 minutes to fall asleep, and before I knew it, it was morning.

The sun hadn’t come up yet when the pounding in the hallway began. Our breathing was so heavy we could hear each other from across the room, both of us slightly relaxing as we began to comprehend what was going on. It was time for drills, something that is expected to happen every morning during our first summer.

Within seconds, Denzel was throwing the door open to our unit, yelling at us to get up, get changed, and get in the hallway in 60 seconds.

Emmett and I bolted out of our beds, leaving our covers laid out on the floor as we quickly ripped off the clothes we slept in and changed into our Physical Education uniforms, which were a set of navy gym shorts and a navy ringed tee. I didn’t even notice that I had yet to change my boxers until it was too late… Fuck it, I’ll itch!

We were in the middle of tugging our white crew-length socks on when Denzel started to count down from ten. All of a sudden, my mind went blank as I shoved my toes into the sneakers, feeling a sharp pinch on my big right toe as my foot flew into the shoe. The immediate cold sensation let me know that I was bleeding, but I could still stand on it with only slight discomfort.

Denzel was in the middle of saying the number “One” during his countdown when Emmett and I stood at attention in the hallway, joining all of the other midshipmen who were sporting the same uniform. I could see my fellow classmates panting through my peripheral, everyone's chests heaving as the sleep drained from our eyes.

Three Officers walked down the hallway, examining our stance and writing things that they noticed down on a clipboard. One of the officers, assumably in his 40’s, with a full head of thick brown hair, nodded over at the group of 5 detailers that were standing at the end of the hall. They yelled at us to start running and to make our way over to the track.

I followed the group as we ran out of the building and outside. The cool air hit us with a slight discomfort. Summers on the coast were not too bad, since there were large bodies of water surrounding us, but with that came a little bit of a nippier air when the sun was down.

Emmett and I were in the middle of the whole group of runners, both of us looking around at the other men and women who were equally as shook as us. I knew this was coming, but the wakeup call itself was more intense than I had imagined. My ears were still ringing from the yells that escaped the detailer’s mouths and my eyes weren’t yet adjusted to the bright LED lights that were lit up as we got changed.

As we made our way over to the track, I glanced up at the cemented clock tower, whose hands were light by off-white lights, 5:33. Only four minutes ago, I was in the deep sleep that I so desperately crave every time I close my eyes. Four minutes seemed like ages ago.

Now I was here, running up the hill as the ones in front pooled their way into the track, taking the liberty of starting our run. We ran for 8 laps around the track, equivalent to two miles, before we were stopped by the detailers. 

They split us up into our ICAO companies to perform our initial strength test. All of us Novembers went over to the far east side of the field that was in the middle of the track, Denzel joining us. It was then that I realized he was the detailer for all ten of us. I looked over at all the other guys, Emmett was resting his hands on his hips again, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. There were two guys that did not seem phased by our run, not even breathing hard as Denzel looked over his clipboard. Then there were all of us in the middle, who had broken out into a light sweat and occasionally spit into the ground as we recentered ourselves.

I hated how much I sweat. It was yet another trait that I inherited from my dad. Performing the simplest task would cause my skin to become moist under my hairline. Within seconds of any routine, I could feel the warm liquid pool down my body in droplets. My mom bought deodorant in bulk when I was in middle school and I went through one bottle of cologne every 3 months until I was 16.

I let out a spit when Denzel explained the contents of the initial strengths test. It would be used to determine which PEP group we would be in from tomorrow forward. He told us that we would perform every task as long as we could, until we physically could not go anymore.

It was a long morning, but it showed me exactly how much strength I had in me, equalizing me in the presence of young, fresh, 18 and 19 year olds. That’s all I truly crave, to be just like one of them. Once we were done, and my clothes soiled, I looked over at the paper Denzel used to record my data:

Push Ups: 82

Pull Ups: 51

Chin Ups: 45

Plank: 5m 45s

Squats: 76

Wall Sit: 3m 18s

Sit Ups: 114

Emmett brought his paper over to me and we compared scores. I outnumbered him heavily in push ups and sit ups, and he led in chin ups and the time for the wall sit. Everything else was pretty much the same, with a 1-5 difference.

He slapped my shoulder as he made his way to the locker room. We were instructed to shower and change into our Type III working uniforms, the common camo-esk styled ones, before breakfast. We had to report to the Bancroft Hall by 8:00am, otherwise you could forget about breakfast, which the Academy referred to as “morning chow”.

When I made my way into the locker room, I noticed there was a pack of cotton briefs sitting on every shelf of the lockers. Thank God!

After I was showered and changed into my uniform, I joined my classmates who were standing around Bancroft Hall. There were a few civilian tourists watching as we were inspected by the detailers and officers. They took our attendance right at 8:00am, locking the doors of the Hall for anyone that was late. Luckily, Emmett had made it, and I saw Natasha a few rows in front of me. 

Every morning we were to be inspected by our superiors. As long as you kept your shit together, like keeping your hair short and tight, and wore your uniform correctly, then you were good. If not, you would have your ass handed to you for days until you did enough tasks to prove that you were worth a shit and would be let off the hook.

Within minutes, we were released and taken into the cafeteria. I salivated at the smell that came from the large brown and tan colored room. This was the biggest meal that the Academy served during the summers. Your choices were endless and the threat of running out of food never crossed anyones mind.

There was a wide range of fruits, cereals, meats, and pastries lined up across King Hall, the official name of the cafeteria on base. I had never felt more hungry in my life, my stomach screaming at me as I grabbed a tray when I made it to the front of the line, grabbing a whole bowl of fruit, oatmeal, and a serving of biscuits and gravy. Orange juice and coffee were placed at the center of every elongated table, which looked just like the brown tables you see in high school, with the same blue plastic pull out chairs.

“Yo, Bradster!” I heard someone yell, watching as a cinnamon roll came flying at me so as to grab my attention if I didn’t hear. Luckily, it landed on my tray, steering completely clear of the dirty floor below.

I looked over at the direction of the voice and saw Emmett, who was sitting with a group of guys, waving me over.

I quickly joined them and grabbed an open spot between two other guys, who introduced themselves as Tate and Oliver, engaging in brief conversation as I began to shove food down my throat. Before long, Oliver had ditched us to go sit with the girls from the Alpha Company. Great, he was one of those guys.

As he was walking away, Emmett, who was stuffing his face with meat and pastries, gave him a wolf whistle. Everyone watched as he slyly made his way over, taking the last seat at the table full of women.

Emmett laughed and looked back at his tray before an all too familiar female voice rang out; “May I”?

I looked up at Natasha, who was standing in front of Oliver’s abandoned chair.

I gave her a slight smirk while Emmett replied; “Yeah sorry toots. It’s men only.”

“Great,” Natasha shot back, taking a seat in the chair and adjusting herself as she said; “I was hoping you would leave anyways”.

She shot him an intense poker face as he froze in shock, not expecting that comment, which caused some of the other men at the table to laugh.

The laughter died down and a slight awkwardness was building up at the table, which I decided to rescue her from; “Natasha, this is my roommate, Emmett Frasier. Emmett, this is Natasha Trace”.

“Pleasure.” she said sarcastically, as she held her poker face on Emmett.

“At least it is for one of us.” Emmett said as he took a long drink of orange juice from his tall glass cup.

“Whatever,” she said to him slyly, breaking her gaze from his face and looking down at her tray. “How did you do at PEP?” she asked, looking over at me to confirm that I was the one the question was directed at. I gave her my paper and she glanced over at it, looking impressed at some of the facts that were on it. “Not bad,” she complimented. Well, complimented as best as she could. She was a hard ass, and I was totally here for it!

“We won’t be in the same group though.” She stated, with a hint of an upset tone in her voice.

“How do you know?” I asked her, curious at her statement.

“I nearly doubled you in everything. They’ll put me with others that scored close to me”.

“Bullshit!” Emmett rang out, not believing a word she said.

She quickly pulled her paper out of her right chest pocket before throwing it in his face, which caused him to clasp his eyes shut as the paper quickly made its way over to him. Within seconds, he had his eyes glued to her sheet, his expression dropping to a small scent of embarrassment as he realized she was telling the truth.

“I assume, yours wasn’t as good.” she stated to him, raising an eyebrow at him as well as giving him the all too familiar poker face that has dominated the conversation.

He didn’t say anything as he looked away, placing the paper back on her tray. She folded it back up and put it in her pocket, proud of her domination over him, which I’m sure he was not expecting.

The rest of the morning conversation revolved around discussing our summer classes: The first part of Naval Leadership class, Honor, Naval Warfare and Tactics, Rank Structure and the Unified Chain of Command. Basically, all of these courses were designed to humble us and solidify the hard passion that we have, or will have, for the Navy. Leadership was the longest, which was going to consist of a whole semester once courses started during the school year. Honor was the class that was designed to humble you, introducing you to the histories and reasons for “why we are the way we are” within the Navy. Warfare and Tactics, my favorite course, was pretty self explanatory. In late June we would get into the basics of aviation tactics, which I was most excited for! Rank Structure and the Unified Chain of Command was pretty much a study hall. Professors expected us to have the structure and chain memorized by the end of the summer, with us being able to not only list everything in the correct order, but also be able to explain why the structure existed. We also had to memorize notable men and women that are currently serving or have served in the Navy. Iceman was on the list, only inches away from becoming admiral of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. Honestly, these courses would completely outrank all of the other courses I took at UVA, creating a challenge and a willingness to study that I have so desperately craved for.

The first set of classes, Naval Leadership and Honor, passed by quickly, and before I knew it, I was in King Hall again, noting the absence of the buffet styled breakfast that we had this morning.

Lunch was served in a family-style set up, every table having an assortment of sandwiches covered in plastic wrap. There was enough for every person at the table to have two. Our table was almost filled when I got there, with only tuna and veggie sandwiches remaining. I made a mental note to get there faster tomorrow as I grabbed one of each of the sandwiches and put them on my tray. I was in the middle of pouring the water into my glass when Natasha came over and assumed her same seat next to me.

“Jesus,” Emmett muttered under his breath as she sat down.

“I’m sorry?!” She snapped, looking up at him, making it clear that she heard him.

“Listen,” He began, “I think we got off on the wrong foot-”

“Oh, you don’t say!” she commented sarcastically.

“Would you shut up and listen to me!” Emmett snapped, clearing his throat and giving a look of regret at the words coming out of his mouth. “Sorry,” he apologized sincerely, “Force of habit, I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard, turning a little red. I would not be surprised if they slept together before the end of the summer. “I just wanted to introduce myself to you properly, I’m Emmett Fraiser.” He held his hand out for her to shake and she looked down at his, reluctant at first, but eventually giving in and shaking his. “Great!” He said in an excited tone, “Now we’re friends!”

“No we’re not.” Natasha muttered out in a sly tone, making sure to annunciate her entire sentence clearly so we could hear every syllable.

Emmett looked down, embarrassed by her recent comment and went back to his stale sandwich, eventually going into the conversation that Oliver was having with another guy that sat next to them. “You’re gonna have sex with him,” I stated quietly over my shoulder to Natasha as I took a huge gulp of my water.

“Not the parts I’m looking for, Bradshaw.” I spit my water back into my cup as I comprehended what she said. She looked at me, with a pain in her eyes as she saw my reaction.

I couldn’t help but cough as the water cleared from my lungs, my face turning red as I held up my pointer finger at her, signaling her to “wait a minute” as I regained my composure.

She still had a hurt look painted on her face until I was able to defend my reaction; “I’m sorry…” cough, “I don’t mean it like that…” cough, “Like it’s cool and you’re still great…” cough, “I support you…” I took a heavy breath, my body catching up with the oxygen that I had been missing the last few seconds, “I just wasn’t expecting that” I said as I swallowed, nearly recovered from my fit.

She smirked at me, her face now turning to a happy one as she developed a twinkle in her eye. “Well,” she said, “I’m into both I guess. But recently it’s been more women. I just don’t think your attraction needs to revolve around one specific gender”.

“Valid.” I said to her as I returned to my meal. My tone was clear enough to communicate to her that I understood what she was arguing, but also making it clear that I personally was only attracted to one gender.

“Natasha!” I heard someone say loudly behind us. I looked up and noticed a man, with a crew cut hairstyle and a deep skin tone, smiling down at her. He looked surprised to see her there, obviously not knowing she was around until now.

“If it isn’t Javy fucking Machado,” she said, impressed to see him sporting the same camo-like uniform as us. “How the hell are you!”

“Living the dream honey!” He exclaimed to her.

Everyone around the table looked at her in confusion and patience, waiting for her to introduce this Javy fucking Machado guy to us.

“Oh shit!” she said, looking over at us and noticing our expressions. “Guys, this is Javy. Him and I met at Summer Seminar last year. He’s a hot case.” She explained, being able to note his cockiness and charm in two simple words.

“And she’s just hot.” He said to all of us, making her blush and she looked down at her tray. There was obviously something there.

“Here sit down,” she said, pulling out the chair that was empty next to her.

“Oh, thanks” he muttered, as he modestly took a seat.

Natasha introduced him to the rest of the guys at the table, remembering all their names, ending with my roommate, “And that ass clown is Emmett Fraiser”.

Emmett gave a pleasing look at Natasha’s remarks, which he interpreted as a compliment. I’m sure it was, but with Natasha, you could never know.

“Nice to meet you” He said to all of them.

“So you met at Summer Seminar?” Emmett asked, not seeming to know what that was.

“Yeah,” Javy started, “It’s a summer camp that the Academy hosts for incoming high school seniors that are interested in the academy. It’s just like this, only a week long, and way more PEP than classes”. Well, that explains Natasha’s fucking phenominal performance this morning!

They exchanged answers for how they did in the morning, both nearly matching each other. It became clear to us that this Summer Seminar was designed to put them at the head of the pack if they came to Plebe Summer the year after. Great, yet another thing that I’m behind in!

I went back to studying my Reef Points book as their conversation continued on the subject of the seminar. It wasn’t until the discussion changed to how we ended up here when I rejoined the group. Javy went first, explaining that he applied against his mothers wishes, who is very apprehensive about the military. I also found out that he wanted to go into naval aviation, which meant that we would be seeing a lot more of each other as the years go on.

“So, I guess we’re meant to be huh?” Javy said over to Natasha, who shrugged him off and looked away.

“Only if you give me a wicked call sign.” She said, expressing her desire to have something unique assigned to her when we got to that point, in like five fucking years!

“Wait, what?” I asked her, not expecting her to know so much about naval aviation, and realizing that’s what she aspired to do.

“I’m majoring in Aerospace Engineering with Javy. We want to be fighter pilots one day.”

“Yeah me too!” I exclaimed to her.

“About majoring in engineering or being a fighter pilot?” She asked me, still comprehending that we had a lot more in common than I thought.

“Both!” I said excitedly, knowing that I was developing a friendship I would come to appreciate in the upcoming months when we start working with aircrafts.

“Get out!” She said, equally as excited at this fact. “Anyone else naval aviators?” She looked around anxiously, but everyone shook their heads.

“Submarine Officer” Emmett answered.

“Fits.” was all Natasha had to say. Not necessarily in a mean tone, but one that made it clear that the career goal matched the personality. It truly did though!

“What about you? What’s your story?” A guy asked, looking over at Natasha. She looked down, slightly upset with being asked, keeping her composure as she looked for the right words.

I knew enough to know that it wasn’t a pretty story. All I knew was she didn’t have a family, and a part of me was hoping she was an orphan too. It would be nice to know just one person who shared the same pain as me. “My father abandoned me and my mom when I was a baby,” Natasha started, everyone froze their expressions, not expecting her to be so forward. “And my mom dealt with the pain by drinking and shooting up. She’s somehow managed to stay alive, but doesn’t really care that I’m there. I applied to get away.”

Everyone was taken aback, not knowing how to proceed. The same guy looked over at me, slowly and awkwardly changing the attention as he asked me: “Okay, what about you”?

Now I was stuck. My story wasn’t any happier than hers, and I was still determined to get through my whole career without any of my fellow naval men and women, sorry Natasha, knowing about the past. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to segway out of this, before sitting up tall and adjusting in my seat.

Everyone had their eyes on me. Fuck! I knew I couldn’t get out of this. I opened my mouth, ready to talk, just to bullshit and see what came out, when I was interrupted by Denzel yelling in my face.

I didn’t notice it until now, but detailers were yelling in a lot of people’s faces right now, with the cadet standing at attention and yelling back answers to their prompts.

I quickly stood up at attention, peering forward as my eyes stood sharp ahead of me, my ears focused on his words.

“Recite the ICAO!” He screamed at me.

What the fuck? Before I knew it, the words of the alphabet were coming out of my mouth, starting with alpha and ending with Zulu. I saw Denzel’s eyes change in my periphery, looking slightly impressed with my answer.

He turned his back to the other detailers, which is when I took the opportunity to glance over at Natasha, who looked at me impressed, her lips pursed and her eyebrow raised as she took in my performance.

It was then that I realized what my trainer was doing. During meal times, midshipmen were going to be tested with recollection regarding facts of the Navy, so as to prepare us to become laser focused in stressful and unexpected situations.

“The commanding order in the Second Fleet!” He yelled, a little less loud this time, but still intense enough.

I read off every rank, starting with ensign and ending with admiral, giving at least 1 example of a man or woman who currently holds each rank.

I saw Denzel take a step back, beyond impressed. I mentally thanked Hollywood for giving me that book earlier. 

“When was the Naval Academy established?” Denzel spoke at a tone matching that of a normal conversation, but close to my ear.

I felt his breath hit me as I stared forward answering his question quickly making sure to keep my loud tone while at attention; “October 10th, 1845, Sir!”

“Established by?” Denzel asked in a creepy tone, getting way too close to my ear, snaking his head as he walked across my body, wanting me to break.

“George Bancroft and James Knox Polk, Sir!”

“First professors?” He asked, now in my face. I felt my eyes twitch, wanting to meet his, fighting every nerve in my being to keep my gaze forward. Yeah, this training is going to be intense, and will push every limit I have!

I was less confident with this one, answering a little quieter, “William Chauvenet, Arsene Girault, and Navy Chaplain George Jones SIR!” I didn't realize how quiet I was until the end of my answer, when Denzel took a step back.

“And Henry Lockwood,” He responded quietly. Fuck. I forgot one. 

I closed my eyes and let out a huff through my throat. I was almost perfect. Almost there. And I made one fucking mistake.

I stood at attention as Denzel walked to my right side, watching my every move, waiting for me to crack. I was turning red, and mentally beating myself up, but refused to let it get to me. “Report to the track for 50 push ups after dinner. Right at sunset.”

“Yes sir!” I yelled, regaining my composure, but still lacking all confidence I have ever known.

“At ease” he said to me as he turned and left.

I let my head down, trying to wipe away the embarrassment. When I turned to my friends, they were all frozen, their mouths hanging open and their facial expressions in a daze.

“What the shit was that!?” Emmett asked, impressed.

I kept my gaze down and went back to my tray, not talking or looking at anyone for the rest of the day, shutting myself off. Something I’m good at.

I was quiet for the rest of the day, keeping my eyes glued in my books. Natasha sat next to me in afternoon classes, always shooting me a concerned gaze. During the last class, she rested her hand on top of mine, curious about my sudden lack of socialism.

I looked over at her and shook my head before pulling away and walking to the cafeteria, where I sat alone at the edge of the last table in the corner. I know it sounds dumb to be beating yourself up over something so stupid, but I had a lot to prove. I know there’s going to be a big target on my back, being at the age I am and coming from the family I have…Had… I knew Denzel knew, and I knew the Officers at base knew. You could tell by the way they looked at me when taking attendance or hearing my last name said by one of my friends.

They all kept quiet though, trying to hide their initial expression. Luckily, no one had noticed yet. I’m sure everyone was on their own toes, attempting to calm their nerves from their first day as well.

Natasha, Javy, and Emmett came over to me, holding onto their trays that were filled with meats and carbs. Steak, grilled veggies, and mashed potatoes were on the menu today. They didn’t sit down, just stood there and looked at me with curious expressions, filled with a little bit of pity. 

“You okay?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah.” I lied through my teeth. She nodded her head, with an expression on her face that let her know that she could see right through me.

“Okay. Well, we’re here for you.” She encouraged me.

“Thanks.” I said, keeping my eyes down.

They stood there for a second, before walking away. I played with the food on my tray, not in the mood to eat a thing, despite the fact that my stomach was running on empty.

I reported to the track right before sunset, noting that I was the only one there. Great! Everyone else got their questions right.

Denzel’s back was to me, watching the sunset with his bare eyes, squinting up at the sky as I bent down, getting in perfect formation, and started going down, counting in my head.

Fifteen, I thought as I made my way up, Denzel finally breaking the silence; “You’re an impression”. He said as I went down again, sixteen, not saying anything.

“I mean it.” He said again, looking down at me as I stared at his shadow which was hovering above me. “No one I have ever quizzed has gotten those questions right on the first day.”

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

“Keep it up,” He encouraged, “I’ve got my eye on you”.

He turned back and walked away, meaning I could be done. But I had to finish. This was my set. This was my punishment, and I had to do it. I had to finish. I had to prove that I was good at something. I had a lot to prove.

I finished my set and then sat down on the damp ground, pulling my legs up and resting my elbows on my knee caps, focusing on my breathing that was slightly shallow. I wouldn’t be sweating so much if I wasn’t in my working uniform, but damn that bitch gets hot quickly!

I looked up and stared at the campus in the near distance, seeing Natasha, Javy, and Emmett watching me from the sidewalk of King Hall. Once they saw that I was looking at them, Natasha nudged them, and they walked away, making their way to the commons, right in front of the Naval Chapel.

I stayed sitting, thinking about how tough this is going to be. How I’m going to have more nights like this, sitting in the field, doing push-ups, proving my worth.

I looked up in direction of the chapel as I heard my classmates begin to sing “Blue And Gold”

Now colleges from sea to sea

May sing of colors true,

But who has better right than we

To hoist a symbol hue:

I immediately started thinking about my dad. How my dad ran on this very track, sang that very song, had the same summer as me, only four years younger than I am now. He was here. He looked at the same buildings. He did the same agility tests. He had the same intense quizzes during meal times. He made mistakes… He made mistakes… He did this too.

For sailors brave in battle fair

Since fighting days of old,

Have proved the sailors right to wear

The Navy Blue and Gold

He wore the same uniforms. He would sweat the same heavy amount of sweat. He missed questions. He failed things… He made mistakes too…

Thinking about my dad brought me peace, and relief from the fire that I had earlier in the day. If he could do it, and come out of everything a graduate all the same, then I can too. 

I looked up at the clouds that were blowing through the deep sunset kissed sky, night time only minutes away. 

“Help me through this dad”. I whispered up at the sky, knowing at that moment that I would be okay. I would make another mistake. I wouldn’t be perfect. And when I crashed and burned, he would be there. He was always there.

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Vanny Night

Vincent helps Gregory work through and dispel the nightmare of the Vanny Confrontation. What he learns gives him a lot of concern for the future of his friends and Vanessa and Gregory.

Time Set: Post-SB, pre-Ruin, Vincent POV

---------------------------

“I know it’s tricky to find a therapist that can handle your unique situation, but I don’t think I can maintain this kind of work for you guys for the long term,” Ven sighed, letting Vanessa and Gregory into the apartment. A couch in the den was already set up with a soft pillow and a plush chair pushed nearby. A graphic tablet rested on the coffee table, screen dark and pen tucked into its stand. He’d been doing work on a commission when he got the request to help with the return of Gregory’s nightmares. Hearing Vanessa’s words over the phone had resonated with a sense of fear and worry, so Ven figured letting Vincent deal with the situation would be best.

Sooner this was done, sooner he could get back to work. Rent was coming up and he still had to pitch in his part for the shared apartment.

“Sorry, we’re still trying to find someone who can work with cases of amnesia, and then I gotta figure out how to explain how our amnesia was something deliberately caused by Elizabeth Afton,” Vanessa apologized and explained, fluffing the pillow as Gregory climbed up and lay down on the couch. “There’s so much baggage we have to deal with thanks to her. It’s a mess.”

He understood. Sometimes, Ven wished he could find outside help for himself and Damien and Stephanie. Best they could do was talk things out with Vincent and have the spirit soothe their thoughts and disperse the negative build up of energy. Still, there were more and more people being brought into the group who had been affected by the Aftons and Fazbear Entertainment, and Vincent clamored to help them all as much as he could. The drain on Ven as backlash was just even more of a pain to deal with.

“Probably doesn’t help that the last few therapists I’ve talked to before all ended up disappearing,” Vanessa muttered, a faint scowl on her face, “Wonder if that was also Afton’s fault?”

“Makes you wonder how much bleach that company burns through,” Ven quipped, taking a seat in the plush chair and settling in. “Okay, Gregory, remember how we do this?”

“Yeah, I just relax and act like I’m getting ready to sleep and try not to fight against you knocking on the door,” the boy said in a bored tone that didn’t match up with the exhausted expression he wore. “Freddy keeps me company at night, but he also said that it would be better if I actually slept, so I hope this stupid nightmare can be made to go away.”

“Vincent should be able to find the root of it and pull it out. If he can’t, he can disperse enough of the nightmare to make it easier for you to sleep at least.” Well, that was Ven’s hope; as the man’s reincarnation, he was well aware that the counselor would go as far as he could to help a kid. Ven just didn’t want to pay the price for it after, it was so annoying.

Gregory nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and then relaxing. Ven did the same, receding in his mind and letting the soul within himself awaken and reach out with the Remnant wrapped around him.

With Vincent now in control of the situation, the Remnant carefully touched onto Gregory’s mind, a gentle ‘knock on the door’ as the boy had described. There was no response, no reaction, and then a sudden surge and a blast of neon color.

.

One hand raised to shield his eyes as he blinked the spots from his vision, Vincent Heliotrope stood still, making himself as harmless and open as possible while giving Gregory time to verify that his mind wouldn’t be in any danger. In a way, it wasn’t surprising to him to find that the boy was fiercely protective of his mental faculties. Gregory’s Remnant had been scrubbed slowly over a long period of time, memories shredded and soul weakened to make him more vulnerable to being possessed by a far stronger spirit. Whoever he had been before Elizabeth Afton got her hands on him was likely destroyed beyond recognition.

And yet, Vincent still harbored hopes that he could pull some of those lost memories up to the light, restore a bit more of who Gregory had been. Each session of these nightmare dispelling trips had him pulling apart complex nightmares and unrealities, but very little in the way of old memories came through.

Gregory’s mental world was a reconstruction of the Pizzaplex, essentially his whole world for much of his life after the memory erasure. Glowing neon signs abounded in the empty pizzeria complex, a number of attractions were sealed off with concrete walls, thin gray fog hung close to the floor, and the Glamrock Fazband were on stage in the atrium, performing as normal. The ideal Pizzaplex, according to the boy who called it home once upon a time.

The prickling feeling on his skin faded, Gregory’s check complete, and Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his hand and flexing it to work the last of the stinging out. Still no sign of Gregory. Where was he this time?

He started walking through the atrium, the click of his work shoes against almost familiar tile echoing despite the rock music from the band. In a way, Vincent was glad for the security guard uniform he wore as an awakened soul. It helped him fit in with this particular mindscape and the soft navy blue color was drastically different enough from the Pizzaplex guard uniforms that Gregory was more accepting of his presence.

“Gregory, I need you to show me where the nightmare is originating from,” Vincent called out, stepping onto escalators that didn’t work and climbing them to reach the next level of the atrium floors. With how big the Pizzaplex was, he could get lost for ages just exploring, even with a lot of areas blocked off. “Can you tell me what is in this one? What images do you see? Are there any aspects you recognize?” he asked aloud. There had to be something he could grab onto as a starting point.

The atrium shimmered and then went dark, leaving Vincent standing in pitch black for a moment. When the glow of neon came back, the surroundings had changed to one of the interior attractions, Fazer Blast. S.T.A.F.F. bots wearing colored helmets and clutching laser guns in hand patrolled the maze of colored walls and obstacles. Vincent squinted his eyes nearly shut, waiting for his vision to adjust to the stark gleam of bright colors.

The audio system crackled to life and he winced, looking up as a distorted woman’s voice rang out, “Disassemble Freddy!” He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening at the implication of that command. A quick look around had him spot the patrolling bots all turn in unison and rush towards a specific direction. Vincent ran after them, grimacing at the sound of screams and the shriek of metal.

As fast as he moved, it clearly wasn’t fast enough. The S.T.A.F.F. bots had vanished and the neon lights faded down to muted colors to match the somber scene Vincent stumbled across. Gregory knelt by a gutted and maimed Glamrock Freddy, sobbing pitifully over the deactivated animatronic. This must be the nightmare that was plaguing him now, an unreality to strip him of the only ally he had for much of the night in the Pizzaplex before the Guards were able to get inside and turn the tide.

“Oh, Gregory,” Vincent murmured sympathetically, carefully approaching the boy and lowering himself to one knee beside him. Gregory didn’t seem to register his presence. Odd, that was one of Vincent’s abilities; his simple presence was enough to soothe and comfort grieving people, give them a moment to collect themselves and start gaining hope again. Well, time to start dispelling the lie and find the truth buried under the illusion.

Why did this scenario exist? How did it get planted into Gregory’s dreams? Vincent raised a hand to the broken Freddy, gently prodding at it with his own Remnant to find the memories and emotions building the image. Spite and scorn crackled like crimson lightning over the casing of the animatronic, jumping up and lashing at his hand, leaving a nasty burn that had him yelp and jerk away in pain.

Crap, that was going to leave a mark on Ven’s body. He was gonna get yelled at for this later. Clearly whatever implanted this nightmare had heavy negative feelings towards Glamrock Freddy. Vincent pressed forward, hands held over the wrecked animatronic as he threw his own Remnant into the miasma, pulling it apart. The dull orange and red casing began melting away, leaving an endoskeleton that didn’t look like any he’d ever seen before.

Mismatched parts and components, assembled haphazardly; the endoskeleton laying on the carpeted floor was a rusty amalgamation that didn’t look like it belonged in the Pizzaplex. “Gregory, open your eyes! Look at the reality, this was never Freddy!” Vincent urged, pushing the cloud of angry Remnant aside and scowling at it as he kept tearing it apart, burning the energy out of the boy’s head.

“Wh-why? Why do this to Freddy? He’s my friend, he didn’t do anything wrong, he was just trying to help me get out!” Gregory sobbed. His hands were covering his face, shoulders shaking from the force of his grief.

No, not just grief…. Vincent waved his hand aside, ignoring the sting as the cloud of spite finally fell apart, and looked around at a fog of emotion rolling in, heavy gray. It sapped at his energy before he could pull up a mental shield but the contact helped him identify the emotion. This was guilt. Why did Gregory feel guilty in this situation? It was that voice that had issued the command to kill Freddy. Who was it that gave the order?

“Gregory, didn’t you say that Freddy keeps you company at night, when you can’t sleep?” Vincent asked, once more lowering himself to one knee by the boy. Gregory nodded, breath hitching between sobs as he pulled his hands down at last. “Freddy isn’t in this condition here if he’s outside in your home, right?”

“Right… right, he was talking to me last night. We talked about FazFacts. I’m trying to tell him that bears don’t actually eat pizza,” he murmured, blinking as if pulling himself out of a dream, “He’s okay. Freddy didn’t get disassembled. But I remember her saying it. She said it, didn’t she?”

“She might have said it at some point, but it didn’t actually happen if Freddy is able to talk to you while you’re awake,” Vincent explained as his brow furrowed in confusion, “Um, by the way, who is ‘she’?”

Gregory rubbed at his eyes, the cloud of guilt still drifting around them, a misty fog that lingered at their ankles. “Vanny, duh,” the boy replied, the dry snark returning to him as he stared down at the rusty endoskeleton that had posed as Freddy in the unreality, “You’ve seen her a few times, didn’t you?”

A woman in a rabbit costume, crimson eyes and open-mouthed smile, dancing around with a blade in her hand through Gregory’s nightmares like she was gleefully still trying to rip his personality to shreds. He’d seen her, but never heard her. Vincent hummed to himself, lips pursed as he ran his fingers lightly through the fog of guilt, lifting his hand as the mist threaded between them and slipped away. This was too heavy for a child to bear. Where was this guilt coming from?

“This is another one of her fake realities, isn’t it?” Gregory grumbled, glowering with dried tears on his face as he stood up. “This was the nightmare I kept having, I remembered this happening, but… it didn’t actually happen.” Vincent stood with him, gazing over the dark walls of the Fazer Blast game room. Shadows seemed to grow deeper, swallowing the walls and highlighting the rabbit figure swaying in the illuminated windows of a room suspended over the game room.

“Why are there so many fake memories?” he asked, “How does this one end?”

Gregory’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “I remember going up to the exit and then I wanted to turn back, stop Vanny from making more people disappear, find what it was that she was hiding that I needed to get back. So I told Freddy we were going to face her because she wouldn’t expect me to stay after 6 A.M.,” he began and looked up with a glower at the illuminated room, “But she was ready for us. She took control of the S.T.A.F.F. bots and disassembled Freddy. If I hadn’t said to stay, for us to go after her here, he wouldn’t have been torn apart.”

So that was the source of the guilt. “You’re a kid, no more responsible for the choices made by Vanny and Freddy in this illusion than you were for Afton’s decision to take your childhood away from you just because you were strong enough to withstand her experiments,” Vincent told him firmly, “This is a misplaced guilt. Let those who made their decisions own them.” He gestured outward, throwing his arm out in a direction that could be the main entrance. “Freddy could have refused to let you stay, pushed you right out those doors in that false memory, but he didn’t,” he added, “Think about who Freddy is, you know him best. He would have shoved you out for your own good, wouldn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was determined to get me out and was going to take Knife Lady to where she wanted to go himself, without me. I had to chase after him with Vanessa to make him let me come along,” Gregory agreed slowly, eyes clearing as the memory pieced itself back together for him, “The fake memory version let Freddy agree with me at the start so I’d blame myself, huh?”

Vincent nodded. He caught on, good. By discovering that truth himself, he could rely on it as his own realization, supported and verified with confirmation by a trusted adult. It’d be harder to paint another illusion on top of that. But the false memory still needed to finish to fully burn and dispel it. Otherwise it’d just stay rooted in place and develop a new illusion, a new nightmare.

“How does this memory end, Gregory?” Vincent asked again.

“This way!” the boy yelled, racing for a door marked for employees, flashlight and laser gun suddenly in his hands. Vincent chased after him, hand batting aside the mist as he followed the bright glow of Gregory’s flashlight. His first instinct was to guide him to a more direct approach to Vanny’s room, but if this was a recurring nightmare built on a false memory like what had been done to Damien, then Gregory was the better leader. He would have run the same paths over and over to its conclusion.

Through the back tunnels, Vincent followed Gregory, yelping and ducking when a faceless animatronic lunged at them from the shadows of a dimly lit server room. A buzzing sounded in the air, tension crackling through the air like blood-pink static that irritated his eyes. “Why are we running?! Is something chasing us?!” he cried, wincing at the crashing noise as the animatronic smashed into something.

“Yeah! Vanny!” Gregory yelled back, “Can’t you hear the buzzing?! That’s from her!”

But Vanny was in the room over the laser shooter game. How could she have moved from up there to ground level with Gregory so fast? “That’s more proof this is a fake memory! If you just saw Vanny in that room up in the air, there’s no way she could suddenly be behind you on your way up to that very room!” Vincent called out. The boy zapped a S.T.A.F.F. bot and kicked it at its body, shoving it aside as the wheels carried it away while it flailed. He paused just enough to give him an incredulous look before shaking his head and shoving another door open.

They hurried on through, rapidly approaching the bottom of a tower with a spiraling staircase wrapping around it. A dingy white and pink animatronic missing her mouth lumbered out of the darkness and Gregory shot the laser into her eyes, stunning her long enough to let him run by her and up the stairs. Vincent stared at her in shock before hurrying after Gregory. Was that Chica? Why did she look so badly mangled?

Despite how fast they had run to get away from Vanny, the buzzing seemed to still be approaching them from behind at a steady pace. Gregory shoved open the gate at the top of the tower. “This way! The office!” he shouted breathlessly, gesturing at Vincent for him to hurry up, holding the gate open. The dream guard rushed through, gripping the hand rail that was the only bit of safety for the catwalk suspended high above. He breathed hard, heart racing. Ven was getting too soft for this; maybe he should remind the twins to better take care of themselves, since his strength relied on Ven’s and sometimes Stephanie’s. And that just reminded him that eventually, like Mike Schmidt some years earlier, his reincarnations would eventually grow older and pass on. What would happen to him then? Should he pass with them or find a way to linger in the world since the Aftons didn’t seem to stop trying to cheat death?

Considering Gregory’s age and troubles, it was looking more like Vincent was going to have to call a spirits’ meeting to discuss preparing to reserve their Remnant and reincarnate to assist him and Vanessa.

“C’mon, old man, we’re almost done,” Gregory told him grimly, hurrying across the catwalk with no care as to potentially slipping and falling off.

“Hey, I’m not that old! And use the hand rail! This might be a dream but at least still practice safety!” Vincent yelled in annoyance, chasing after him with one hand hovering over the rail himself.

The door to the suspended office was open and Gregory was already inside, hovering at the doorway with a look of dread on his face. Vincent approached, shaking off the static of the buzzing as best he could and readjusting his hat to seat it more firmly on his head. All that running nearly blew it off and, with how this mindscape behaved, there was no certainty that his Remnant could retrieve it before leaving.

Okay, so what was in this office? He looked around cautiously, lifting a hand as his Remnant reached out and gently probed at his surroundings. There was an arcade machine with a blinking screen, Princess Quest 3, next to a mattress laying on the floor with a rumpled blanket and pillow resting on it. Empty pizza boxes and disposable drink cups littered the floor nearby, and the name Vanny was spray painted on the wall. The exit door had an out of order sign hanging on it, discouraging use of it to escape. And finally there was a security desk with a glowing green button resting in a case that looked like a Freddy head, next to that was a controller of some kind with another button.

The feelings attached here were cold, distant, fearful, and horrified, a mix of emotions that burned ice through Vincent’s Remnant and chilled his soul. Why this mix? What was the intent of this nightmare? The fear and horror radiated thickest around Gregory, rising as the buzzing slowly grew loud, approaching the limited safety of the office. Vincent looked outside the doorway at the catwalk, grimacing at the sight of Vanny skipping merrily along towards them, a pair of S.T.A.F.F. bots rolling along behind her in perfect obedience. He looked the other way and saw only a wall with a sealed vent that led into an illuminated prize room. Maybe it had been a way through at some point, but clearly not now. Inside the office, a button by the doorway under a green-lit meter caught his attention and he pressed it. As expected, the door slid down from above and closed off the room, leaving the window as the only way of looking outside.

“Doubt we’ll be safe in here for long. We don’t know how long the power will last,” Vincent said with an exasperated huff, “Gregory, what comes next? What do we do?”

Gregory didn’t reply, the boy just moving towards the desk to pick up the controller with trembling hands before turning to face the door. His face was pale, the light of the security button and exit sign cast green color over him, making him look far sicker. The fear and horror surrounding him compressed, sinking under the growing heaviness of cold and numbness. Vincent stared at him in confusion and rising alarm. Those feelings weren’t native to Gregory, but they were suppressing his actual feelings. Why? What was the intent behind that? What was the goal for forcing Gregory to suppress his fear?

Square specks of black and shining purple flickered over the controller briefly, spreading to the tips of Gregory’s fingers before retreating, as if testing its range. That didn’t look good. What was that? Vincent stepped towards the boy, hand raising to probe deeper into the Remnant that built the illusion. Gregory didn’t even seem to notice him, his focus entirely on the door as the dread remained on his face.

And then the door slid open.

“Wha-?” Vincent murmured, pivoting to stare at the now open door with wide eyes. How?! There should have been plenty of power to keep it sealed for much longer than this! His jaw clenched tightly, hands balling into fists as tension ran over him, his Remnant pulling inward and coiling for his use. How much of Ven’s serenity was he going to have to consume for this? The backlash was not going to be pretty.

Vanny stood in the entrance to the office, flanked by the S.T.A.F.F. bots she brought with her. Her pose and presence dominated the room, glowing eyes fixed on Gregory, yet she didn’t move any closer to him. It almost seemed like she was waiting for him to make the next move. Vincent looked between the two of them quickly, trying to figure out what was the angle. What was the goal here?

Wait… ‘she took control of the S.T.A.F.F. bots’…. A frigid chill cut through him as Vincent turned horrified eyes to Gregory and the controller in his hands. No. That couldn’t be the goal, could it?!

The dread on Gregory’s face remained even with his fear suppressed, his next words spoken clearly, emotionlessly, “Disassemble Vanny.” He pressed the button and the bots jerked in place before turning their heads to look at the now panicking rabbit woman holding up her hands in self-defense. Right there, in front of him, they were going to-?!

“No!” Vincent cried out, leaping forward to shove Vanny out of the way of the turned bots, back through the doorway so she would be out of the office. She stumbled, slumped against the hand rail, and the S.T.A.F.F. bots turned their gazes to him instead. He barely had a moment to realize the implication of that before one bot grabbed him bodily, holding him down against his thrashing and yelling. The other bot turned away to follow Vanny and continue carrying out the command. “Gregory! Gregory, stop that bot! Don’t let it kill her!” Vincent called out, struggling to pull free of the S.T.A.F.F. bot.

Gregory just stood frozen, eyes locked on the one encroaching on Vanny’s still form and ready to do to her what was done to Freddy. The cold and distant emotions pressed further onto him, his expression growing blank, and now Vincent caught on what was happening. This was a recurring nightmare. How many times had Gregory been forced to command the bots to kill Vanny, been forced to watch her be torn apart in front of him?

Been forced to wake up with imaginary blood on his hands?

“Gregory, listen to me, okay? You’ve already figured out this isn’t real, you know how the nightmare ends,” Vincent told him in as calm and even voice as he could, wincing at the mechanical fingers digging into his shoulder and arm to quiet him. The strain on his limbs was uncomfortable for now but he was sure they’d get more painful if he pressed on. “You don’t have to let the nightmare push your true feelings away. Even if it hurts, even if it’s scary, those are your feelings, your true self!” Yeah there it was, the grip tightening, the bot bending to press him to the floor in an attempt to crush him into silence. Vincent jerked one arm loose enough to shove the S.T.A.F.F. bot’s head back in retaliation. “This is your world, Gregory! You can change the way the nightmare ends!” he yelled, “That strength is in you; don’t let Afton steal that away!”

The boy didn’t seem to react at first, just stared until the S.T.A.F.F. bot’s hands wrapped around Vanny’s head before seeming to snap back to himself, amber eyes blazing with fury. “Freddy! Get ‘em!” he shouted and thunderous stomping filled the air. Glamrock Freddy charged across the catwalk and body-slammed the S.T.A.F.F. bot, crushing it against the wall to the prize room. While Freddy dealt with that, Gregory picked up his toy laser gun and fired it at the S.T.A.F.F. bot holding Vincent down, sending it into a panic and allowing him to slip free and kick it aside. It flailed and then went still, eyes flickering off from deactivation.

Freddy stepped into the office with Vanny, tossing her onto the floor before sitting down beside her and throwing his legs over her back, effectively pinning her down with little harm.

And just like that, the nightmare was altered. Gregory gripped the laser gun in his hands, shaky breathing done in a self-enforced rhythm. Vincent picked himself up, wincing at the aches and pains that meant Ven’s body was sure to be sporting bruises. He made his way over to Gregory and knelt by him, slowly reaching out to carefully pull the toy from his hands.

“Do you feel like a hug would help?” he asked quietly. Gregory swallowed, eyes trained on the floor. Eventually he shook his head and Vincent nodded, simply resting by him. “You did good in taking control of the nightmare. We can pull it apart and find the truth underneath whenever you’re ready,” he added.

He didn’t voice his suspicions on why the nightmare was built this way. That would be for explaining to Vanessa. He absently let his fingers rub gently against the back of his wounded hand, trying to soothe the burn from the cloud of spite from earlier. Beside him, Gregory’s breathing began calming to a more regular pattern, the tension wrapped around him fading in Vincent’s aura of peace and tranquility.

“You knew I was going to kill her,” Gregory said suddenly, his voice toneless, “Bet you know why the nightmare was making me do it.” Vincent winced, humming noncommittally, and Gregory shot him a glare. “I’m a kid, yeah. I don’t know stuff but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” he growled, “For all I know, we did actually kill her down in that weird underground pizzeria but I didn’t see a body. So why make me do it here and watch?”

“I have a theory, but I really think it’s better to let Vanessa-,” Vincent began cautiously.

“It’s my nightmare! Tell me!” Gregory demanded, stamping a foot in frustration. The office walls flickered in response to his anger, grime appearing for a moment before vanishing.

“Haa, just to let you know, I really am against this for your own sake,” Vincent replied with an exasperated sigh, shoulders dropping in a slump, “but fine.” He gestured aimlessly at the doorway where Vanny was likely to have been ripped apart by the S.T.A.F.F. bots, “The nightmare ended the same way for you the past few nights, with you ordering Vanny to be killed and watching her die. The implanted artificial Remnant, the mix of code and emotions shoved into you somehow, was set up to make you feel desensitized to it over time.” He swallowed, stomach churning from the sick realization again as he folded his arms over his chest. “I think… I think it was trying to groom you into getting used to murdering someone, to detach yourself from feeling anything about ordering robots to kill someone,” he murmured, “I just… don’t know why the one who did this to you wanted you to learn how to kill. Didn’t they take Panther to have him do the killing for the Afton Family?”

“Sydney was supposed to be Vanessa’s bodyguard, that Afton lady said so,” Gregory grumbled, walking over to the mattress and flopping down to sit on it, elbows on his knees and chin resting in his hands, a sour look on his face. “His job was to look after her so she’d be all pretty for whoever was gonna take over her body and then he’d do any killin’ of stuff for her. Guess whoever was gonna take over my body was fine with killing people themselves and didn’t want me fighting against it.”

“What the hell was going on in there? We don’t even have access to the data in that system anymore,” Vincent sighed and gave Gregory a wary look, “And you’re surprisingly insightful about this.” The boy raised an eyebrow at him, nonplussed.

“Like I said, I don’t know stuff, but I’m not stupid,” he retorted, then went silent, glaring at his shoes hard for a bit before looking back up at him. “Thanks, though, for helping me stop it and change the ending. I… I really didn’t want to see her die again, even if she was out to get me the whole time I was in the Pizzaplex. Busting animatronics is one thing, actual people is another.”

“All I did was remind you that you can influence the path your dreams take. You did the rest yourself with your own strength,” Vincent told him with a wry grin, “Now to uproot the nightmare’s source, we’ll have to see the truth it was hiding. Are you ready?”

“If I say no, can we ignore all this and just move on with our lives?” Gregory asked. Vincent shook his head. “Eh, was worth a shot,” the boy sighed tiredly, “Fuck my life. Let’s get this over with, I guess. Freddy promised he’d make me one of his pizzas when we get home.”

The time to rest was helpful. Even though it wasn’t long enough to heal much of the damage he took, his Remnant had replenished and Vincent carefully stretched the calming emotion out. He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on gently pulling up the layers of cold and numbness without letting the emotion leech into his Remnant. Flickers of irritation cut through, swift but sharp, slicing away at the nightmare energy and making it easier for him to pry them loose and dispel them. That wasn’t his, but it was helpful so Vincent didn’t try prodding at it in case the attempt scattered the assistance.

“Gregory, I appreciate the help, but don’t risk your Remnant at this point, okay?” he muttered, focusing on the last few tendrils of black and purple holding down the true memory.

“I’m not even doing anything!” the boy huffed, pacing around him in anxiety that made the air hum, “Are you done yet? The office is melting and it looks like that melted plastic cheese sauce crap they put on the popcorn in the Daycare Theatre.”

The specks of black and purple stung as Vincent pried them up and snapped them out of existence. Sheer malevolence and madness condensed in the bits of code and artificial Remnant left scars in Gregory’s mind. He soothed them over as best he could, wondering how he could heal this. Threads of pale blue stitched over the gashes in Gregory’s psyche and Vincent watched in curious fascination as they wove themselves into patches that filled in the Afton-inflicted wounds. He gently tested the patches with his own Remnant, searching for what emotions made up the energy.

Huh, there was a bit of determination but he couldn’t feel anything else. Whatever this was, much of the emotions were securely guarded against even his skill at detection. Was this really Gregory’s Remnant? How did this kid develop Remnant that could shield against even him?

With nothing else he could do here, Vincent withdrew his Remnant and blinked his eyes in surprise as a pair of hazy figures materialized nearby, standing in front of a recreation of the Pizzaplex main entrance, recreations of Gregory and Glamrock Freddy. Was this the memory Gregory had talked about, where Freddy had urged him to leave and was going to take Meera’s knife to wherever the Remnant spirit bound to it wanted to go?

“So, you’ll keep following the instructions I left in your memory,” hazy Gregory told hazy Freddy, “and make sure no one suspects I’ve escaped. I’ll let the cops know about Vanny so they can investigate and stop those disappearances.” The Freddy looking down at Gregory didn’t seem like the one lived with him now; this one didn’t respond to the boy’s words, didn’t radiate that same sort of spirit, lacked the Remnant.

Freddy’s head suddenly jerked up into a twitch fit and Gregory stepped back in alarm. The animatronic reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him in place despite his shouts and struggles. From behind one of the advertising displays a blonde woman dressed in the security guard uniform of the Pizzaplex stepped out, a smile on her shadowed face. She drew closer, hips swaying as she approached the struggling boy.

“You’ve been very naughty, GGY, trying to escape containment again,” the woman purred, tilting her head so her ponytail swished around her, “You’ve been messing with this Freddy’s programming. Loathe as I am to put the other one into duty, the prototype is too vulnerable to you. Guess I’ll have to spend time locking down these memories instead of scrubbing them. Dr. Afton needs your skills preserved so he can make use of them to supplement his memories once he’s ready for transfer.”

She bent, a device in her hands that buzzed as it got close to Gregory and then the memory collapsed like mist burning away in sunlight.

“Wh-what was that?” Vincent breathed in horror, “Was that… was that Vanessa?” But the way she moved, the way she spoke, it was nothing like the woman that had brought Gregory in to the apartment!

“That was the Afton lady. She just looks a lot like Vanessa, which is why I didn’t trust her for so long,” Gregory corrected quietly, walking up to him and squinting at the black field that remained after the memory fell apart. “How many escape attempts are we up to now?”

“This is… your third one,” Vincent replied, still trying to process what he’d seen and heard. If that was Elizabeth Afton, why did she look so much like Vanessa? “How many escape attempts did you make before… before us?” he asked, looking aside at the boy scowling faintly at the black.

“Can’t remember. I thought she was erasing my memories, but I guess she only did it to some and then locked up the others behind the nightmares so I wouldn’t try and get to them,” Gregory complained, “This is so stupid! Why me?! I’m just a kid! They had Sydney; why didn’t they try and put that guy she was talking about in his body?!” He stomped his foot a few times in frustration and then yelled at the top of his lungs.

The black field flickered as a distant shrill shriek answered, faint but chilling, and then everything flashed blinding white. Vincent flinched and shook his head, blinking spots from his eyes, his vision fading back in.

Once more the Pizzaplex was back in place, brightly lit in neon glows as the Fazband performed on the stage in the atrium. He found himself seated at one of the long dining tables on the atrium floor, Gregory sitting beside him in a tired slump. Was that all they could do? There were likely still wounds to be healed, memories of that failed escape to bring to the surface, questions left unanswered. But the boy looked exhausted and pressing any further into the matter would just get Vincent forcibly ejected from Gregory’s mind.

“Will you be alright for now? Do you want to continue finding the memories of this night once you’ve recovered?” he asked cautiously. Much as he didn’t like leaving the job incomplete, he couldn’t go any further without Gregory to guide him to where the damage was done.

“Maybe another time. I just want to eat some pizza and finally get some sleep,” Gregory sighed, one hand buried in his hair as he gripped at it, palm pressed to his forehead, “My head is killing me.”

“Then I guess I’ve done all I can for you for now,” Vincent said, reclining in his chair, “I’ll tell Vanessa about what happened here and to bring you by for another session once you’ve rested. Maybe we can use some of the information we learned here to search for what happened to you and Vanessa once we can get access to the Pizzaplex servers somehow.”

“And what? What’s that gonna do for us?” Gregory grumbled, “It’s not gonna bring back my memories before I ended up in the Pizzaplex. It’s not gonna fix what they did to my Remnant, to me and my… everything. I’m still gonna be a fucked up mess of a kid.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Vincent countered, but even he was aware of how weak it sounded. For all that he and the other spirits had experience with dealing with Remnant and malevolent ghosts and haunted things, restoring Remnant that had been destroyed or stripped of the memories and emotions that made it up was still far beyond them. His thoughts drifted to Digital Lucian, who had the gaps of his wrecked Remnant filled in with code from Circus Baby’s software and that shifted his identity away from how he once was. It caused him to constantly question if he was even ‘Lucian’ anymore despite his family assuring him he was more deserving of the name than the Master File, who willingly scrubbed the emotions from himself that tied him to their past in favor of ‘perfection’.

What must Gregory be thinking about himself, with his awareness that he’d tried repeatedly to escape the Pizzaplex, to warn the outside world, only to fail and have more of himself stripped or sealed away to weaken his soul and identity?

“I think,” Gregory began slowly, startling Vincent out of his musing as the laser show began around the Fazband on stage. Thick fog still roiled around the stage and swirled in eddies close to the floor. “I think, even if I’m still messed up in the head, maybe it’s okay? Cuz I still have Freddy and Vanessa, and they still care about me even with all,” he gestured aimlessly around himself before folding his arms down onto the table, “so I dunno. Maybe I don’t have to care about the memories, just make the nightmares stop and the fake ones go away and I can worry more about making and keeping new memories.”

“Optimism is good. Memories are one thing, but you have family and friends, so you’ll be alright over time,” Vincent agreed with a grin, “I’ll see you again soon, okay?” Gregory nodded, his attention now on the Fazband as a pizza and drinks suddenly appeared on the table for him to enjoy. With the clear dismissal, Vincent drew his Remnant within himself and reached for Ven, carefully pulling himself free of the boy’s mindscape.

.

Back in the world of the living, Ven remained dormant to let him finish the session. Vincent could feel the same aches and pains as he did in the mindscape. The injuries definitely passed over. He lifted his left hand and winced at the bandaging wrapped around it; the artist would not be able to do any work until it healed. But, how did it get treated?

“Sorry, I saw you were flinching and then your hand had a burn appear on it so I bandaged it with some cooling cream,” Vanessa explained from her place on the sofa near Gregory, the boy sleeping more easily now. She smiled wryly, patting her purse, “Between Gregory and Sydney’s antics, I just carry a few first aid supplies around to treat what we can.”

“Thank you,” Vincent murmured, carefully running fingers over his treated hand. This would definitely help it heal more easily. “So, here’s what we found for his nightmare….”

Explaining and describing everything he’d seen and experienced and mended took a while. Vanessa took notes as he spoke, likely writing up questions to ask after so she wouldn’t interrupt him or forget herself. By the time Vincent was done recalling everything, his mouth was dry and he wished he’d thought to have drinks on hand to hydrate with. Vanessa just reached into her purse again and brought out a juice box, passing to him.

“Also just in case,” she laughed as he thanked her for the drink. She sat back with her notepad, looking over her writing, waiting as he finished and let his throat recover. He set the juice box down on the coffee table as a signal he was ready. “The black and purple specks you saw, it’s a lot like what I could see in myself and in… that place my mind had been nearly locked in,” Vanessa told him, looking off in the distance as she thought about it. “It’s something from Glitchtrap, the controller of the Pizzaplex network. That some of that code was in Gregory even after his implant shorted out and cut him from the network….” A worried look passed over her face, “That makes what happened with me and Sydney that day make more sense. Think you could pull up leftovers like that from my mind too?”

“In a few days, sure. I need to give Ven’s body time to recover but I can schedule you a session for, say, next week? Do you have any free time then?” Vincent offered.

“I’ll call once I check with the household rotation,” Vanessa replied and went back to her notes, “The nightmare was to force Gregory to become desensitized to killing. That’s awful….” She lifted a hand to her mouth, a sickly expression passing over her. “All of us, we were all being used to one day kill others… for what? More Remnant?”

“Possibly,” Vincent murmured, folding his arms over his chest and wincing a little at the twinge in his muscles, “Depending on who was going to be possessing you, there could have been damage to the Remnant for those spirits. Killing others in specific ways or places would allow those spirits to absorb that Remnant into themselves and basically feed on the emotions and memories to repair themselves.” He looked over at the sleeping boy, “Gregory has an incredibly strong will. Even though he had been made to do that repeatedly in the nightmare, he still held on to his humanity and reasserted his desire to not cause even Vanny’s death. He might have wanted her to hurt, like any upset child would, but he surprisingly is aware enough to know that death is just too far and unwanted.” He smiled over at Vanessa, “You should be proud of him, and of yourself too, for not falling into that hole Elizabeth tried to force you both into.”

“As for the fake me you saw in the memory, that was a shock to me when I first saw her, too,” she added, a puzzled frown on her face, “It’s so strange. How was she able to look so much like me? Are we related? I don’t remember anything, so I don’t know. But whoever she was, that person is gone. That’s Elizabeth Afton now, and she was the one who buried Gregory’s memory and gave him this nightmare of killing her over and over. What a twisted woman.”

“Wait, are you implying that Vanny is Elizabeth Afton?” Vincent asked in alarm. Vanessa nodded. “So she used a body that looks like you and an alias that uses your name… why?!”

“Probably to make sure Gregory didn’t trust me to help him,” she replied dully, “Which worked up until that night all of you guys showed up and exposed what was going on to him and me.”

They talked a bit longer about the dispelling Vincent had done and the limited mending that took place after until Gregory stirred and yawned, bringing their conversation to a close. Vincent showed them both to the door as they thanked him for his time and services. He blinked in surprise at the small roll of cash Vanessa pressed into his hand.

“You took time to help Gregory freely a few times already, so I hope this covers all the sessions so far as well as today’s,” she told him with a grin, “You’re a friend, yeah, but you’re still a professional of a sort and it wouldn’t fly with me to not compensate you for your skills.”

“C’mon, Vanessa, Freddy’s gonna make pizza and I don’t wanna be too tired to eat it!” Gregory whined.

They said their goodbyes and then headed off for home, leaving Vincent to close up and head back to the living room to write out a note of explanation of all that happened, slipping the money into a pocket for Ven to retrieve after. With that done, he tended to the aches and pains by searching out a mild painkiller to take and reclining in the armchair to try relaxing enough to recede and let Ven return.

There were still so many questions and mysteries around Gregory. All he could do is keep supporting and assisting wherever he could while the others made the moves to try and get back into the Pizzaplex and find whatever information they could to discover what happened to Vanessa and Gregory or who they were before their identities and memories were destroyed. What bothered him most was something Elizabeth had said in that memory.

Dr. Afton needed Gregory to supplement his memories. Did she mean William Afton? The same malevolent ghost that had haunted the wreckage of Springtrap after the Fazbear Frights fire? How was he still existing when FuriRosa had sworn that she had torn his Remnant apart during the fire of Meera’s old pizzeria?

The door opened again as he was circling his thoughts in a loop and Vincent looked up to see Damian enter the room, clutching a white paper bag in one hand. Ah, he got his medicine then. “Where’s Steph?” he asked, closing his eyes nearly shut as Damien flopped onto the couch with a happy sigh.

“She said she was gonna go see what Meera was up to at Circus Baby’s after dropping me off. Need to talk to Jonathan?” he returned, putting his feet up on the coffee table and ignoring the disapproving look aimed his way.

“I gained some info so yes, please. He can fill you in after,” Vincent told him and tilted his head at Damien’s little frown in response, “Something the matter?”

“Did… something happen here?” the former Fazbear’s Fright guard asked cautiously, rubbing his right hand a little and gripping his wrist, “I’m getting a little bit of a reaction.”

“Vanessa and Gregory came by, I’m still removing traces of Afton infection from the boy,” Vincent replied, gesturing at the couch Damien rested on, “It was a pretty bad nightmare this time.”

“Everything to do with that deranged hack is ‘pretty bad’,” Damien scoffed, throwing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes to sink into himself, “I’ll see Ven later then, have fun with your talk.”

Vincent blinked his eyes fully open again as he sensed the presence of his partner settle into place. “Hey, Jonathan,” he greeted warmly, leaning on the arm of his chair with a wry grin as now-green eyes turned to focus on him intently, “we might need to move up the timetable on breaking back into the Pizzaplex and getting access to the servers in there. We might not have gotten rid of William as completely as we thought….”

[queen-of-the-queers]

Kimber Destaro: A Borrasca Missing Scene

*TW: addiction, drugs, swearing, weapons, allusion to SA

Kimber crosses the motel lobby, grimacing as her leather boots squeal against the polished, linoleum floorboards. The concierge barely looks up at her, eyes fixed on his heavily-smudged computer screen as she strides past him in the direction of the elevator. 

She tries not to let him see her hands tremble from the cold, or fumble slightly as she instinctively brandishes her keys like a small cluster of hidden knives, concealed under the sleeve of her hoodie. Although she doubts he cares, or has noticed her at all, she feels as though she can’t be too careful in a town like Drisking, Missouri.

Kimber presses the button for the lift, rocking back and forward apprehensively on her toes. She feels as though she’s been constantly on edge ever since returning to her hometown, and even more so since Sam’s withdrawals peaked around noon the previous afternoon, 

As the elevator gives off a warning ding and the doors slide open in front of her, she catches sight of her reflection on the metal surface. Her unwashed hair is plastered back from her forehead by a (far outgrown) beanie, a few stray streaks of auburn coming undone from the messy updo and freezing against her skin. Kimber’s cheeks are rosy, and her eyes bright, but not in a merry way; she looks nothing but cold and scared.

Which is right, she whispers to her many reflections, as she grips the railing with both hands, cold, scared and useless.

The elevator shudders as it rises slowly, the frame creaking unstably as the first, two levels click by. Kimber’s brain taunts her as she eyes the floor, screaming at her to collect herself, prepare for what may await on the other side of those silver doors, or even worse, in her hotel room. She bites back tears- no room for weakness on a vigilante mission.

It’s not long before the lift stops moving, and she steps over the threshold, holding her breath as she makes a beeline towards the first door on the left. Against her better judgement, Kimber can’t help but linger a moment outside of the door, pressing her ear to the cheap, mahogany wood to gauge the situation inside.

A few moments pass without event, and she turns her key in the lock, shifting her grocery store bag to her other shoulder, stepping into the room.

As soon as she enters, she can’t help but wonder how that door is so fucking soundproof.

Her friend is exactly where she left him, squirming restlessly in bed with his eyes fixed on a spot in the corner of the room where the wallpaper is peeling away from the brick wall. Kimber can barely hear the muffled sound of a nondescript TV program through his cries, and the smell of vomit and sweat is becoming almost unbearable.

“Hey Sam, I brought you some soup,” she whispers, crouching down and reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, only to recoil as he yelps, batting her hand away, “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He moans, slipping in and out of consciousness before her eyes.

“Don’t touch me, you bastard! And don’t fucking touch her- hey, get off you monster!”

Sam writhes on the bed, the combination of nightmares and pain he’s caught in evidently wreaking psychological havoc on his mind.

It’s all Kimber can do not to reach out and grab his hand, find some way to pull him out of his torment.

But she can’t. She knows that.

Suddenly, she hears an obnoxiously loud ringtone erupt from the charging station beside the bed, causing her to shoot backward, stumbling to her feet and leaning over to check the caller ID, before cursing under her breath.

She waits a beat, thinking. It’s a difficult decision, asking for help, one she knows Sam will probably hate her for. But still, she can’t just sit here anymore and watch her friend endure day after day of indefinite agony.

With her voice shaking, she presses the receiver to her ear and whispers, “Leah? Is that you? I-Its Kimber Destaro.”

[ericshoney]

Let’s Play ~ Chapter ten

Lily's POV

I woke up to a loud bang. I look out my bedroom window to see its dark, raining and thundering. The lightning flashing brightly. I hate storms but that mixed with the nightmare I just had is ten times worse. I look at my phone to see its nearly two am.

I get out of bed, the floor cold on my bare feet, and sneak out my room. I don't know if any of the guys or Nabi are awake still, since they are the only ones doing real "mafia" stuff , compared to me.

I walk down the dimly lit hall and reach Nabi's room. I open the door and see its empty. I sigh and leave her room, continuing my journey down the hall. I then see one of the bedroom's with its light on and can hear Nabi's muffled voice. I push the door open slightly and see her sitting with Younghoon at his computer, the two of them looking over some plans. I smile slightly, happy she's making friends with them.

"Lil, you okay?" I hear Nabi call. Her and Younghoon looking over at me.

"S-Sorry I-I was looking for you but your busy." I said, playing with my fingers.

"Lil, did it happen again?" I nodded silently.

"What happened?" Younghoon asks.

"Nightmare a-and I don't really like storms." I answer.

"Your more than welcome to sit here, shortcake." Younghoon offers.

"I don't want to be in the way." I reply.

"You won't be, bub." Nabi tells me.

I nod and sit on Younghoon's bed. I sit quietly looking around his room, seeing the walls a dark green and grey colour, Nabi and Younghoon keep talking about computer stuff and then I notice a brown teddy bear plush on Younghoon's shelf above his bed. I look back at Younghoon and Nabi to see they are still focused on the screen. I stand on his bed and gently reach it. I smile at the soft touch and sit back down on the bed. Before I knew it, I was drifting off into a gentle sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nabi's POV

As I sat with Younghoon looking at the banks blueprints, I don't hear much noise from Lily. I look back and smile once I see her curled up asleep, holding a teddy bear.

"What causes them?" Younghoon asks, I look back to see he's looking at Lily too.

"The nightmares?" I question.

"Yeah." He answers.

"Childhood. Her mum left when she was three after pushing her down the stairs. She can't remember that part. Her dad was the best trying to protect her, whilst being a single father and owning a business." I answer.

"Why did he hire you to watch her? I mean your only two years older." He mentions.

"Said it would be better if it was someone closer to her age. Less detectable." I reply.

"How come you was trying to keep her safe from us?" He asks.

"How do you know that?" I ask back.

"Sangyeon Hyung told us. He said he also threated to send her to the real enemy and that she talked with Juyeon and Lily doesn't know your real past job." He answers with a smile.

"I was given a mission. Your a so called dangerous mafia, so I was told to keep her safe from all of you, any mafia really. I never told her my real job because she would panic or worry. I also didn't want her to think our friendship wasn't real." I answer.

"It isn't. You was hired to basically babysit her." He said.

"My mission was to keep her safe is for life. But she is also my best friend." I tell him.

"Alright then. Let's call it a night and look again tomorrow." He tells me, turning the computer off.

"Okay, carry Lily back to her room." I said, getting up.

"She's asleep there, so leave her." He replies.

I look over and see Lily fast asleep. I sigh knowing if we were to move her, she would most likely wake up and not go back to to sleep.

"Fine but if I find out you did something, I'll hurt you." I warn.

"Noted. Night miss hacker." I shake my head at his words and leave his room, heading to mine for some much needed sleep.

[more-than-a-princess]

Continued from here for @quickdeaths​!

It was the sort of place that Sonia was never supposed to go on her own, at least as a visiting student and princess from abroad who insisted upon a minimal staff and security team during her time at Hope's Peak. Vast, open areas, many exits and escape routes, and a place that attracted those from all walks of life without a pre-screening: it was the Novoselic Royal Family's nightmare.

In turn, that made the park all the more appealing to Sonia. On a weekend day without classes, while most of her classmates rested or engaged in hobbies unrelated to their talents, she had a full morning diary. It was how she liked it: with the dormitories mostly asleep, it was far simpler to have the styling team come through, ready her for the day's engagements, and slip out the front door without anyone being the wiser. She preferred the brown uniform and class activities to her royal attire and schedule while in Japan, but there were times that the Ultimate Princess wasn't given the option. Instead, she was only able to choose her method of going home after visiting two organizations and attending a charity luncheon: to walk, or to take the hired car. With its glossy exterior and tinted, bulletproof windows, Sonia opted to venture home on foot. And she'd taken the scenic route.

That was how she ended up in the park: with no one to immediately intervene, she'd checked discreetly over her shoulder to see if her plainclothes security was still in visible distance before venturing past the gates, passing groups on picnics, children playing informal sports games, and finally the concrete course. Or skating park, as those familiar with it referred to the place, mostly full of vibrant individuals with boards containing four wheels, using them to traverse up and down the curved walls and hills. Like the person who had called out to her after she'd taken a seat on a wooden bench a comfortable distance away to watch. After all: she'd never seen anything like it before.

"I shall confess that I have not visited this park before," She admitted with a smile. There was no reason to be shy about it, but Sonia's cheeks turned a fair shade of rose when the person who had so boldly approached her remarked upon her outfit. It was a stark contrast from theirs, and most of the others at the park, causing Sonia to blink in astonishment before casting a quick glance down. As usual, it was a tailored dress (or blouse and skirt) topped off with a coordinating blazer or coat. Today's version was tweed in a powder blue color with pearl buttons adorning the coat: a pair of light tan heels and coordinating handbag completed the ensemble, along with simple pearl jewelry. It seemed precisely the opposite of what the skaters wore: bolder tones, with an emphasis on comfort. Perhaps they were just being nice, without wanting to point out directly just how out of place she looked.

She nodded, offering a smile of thanks. "Thank you, but I imagine it might be dangerous to peruse physical activity in these clothes," She pointed out the obvious. There was that, and the fact her family would be scandalized if their crown princess so much ventured to touch a skateboard, much less get on top of one. "But your board, with the wheels! It reminds me much of the boards used for winter sports, to go down mountains when skis do not suit. I learned to ski as a child, but the boards...well, they were deemed unsafe. But I should very much enjoy watching: you and your cohorts look like you're flying, each time you reach the top of the curved walls. I imagine it must feel quite exhilarating!"

[technicallyjollyobject]

Chapter 5 of Sour Droplets!

[Chapter 5 - Unamed Melody X]

An wasn’t sure if she could classify her dream as a “dream”, or an unpleasant nightmare. She was awake enough to remember part of it, and even though it wasn’t Kanade’s song, her was still as emotion-stirring as the heart-gripping melody that made her cry. For An had dreamt of being hugged by Nagi in her sleep, something she really missed her doing.

And when An woke up she felt more rested than before, but her heart was throbbing with pain that seemed to be vying for her attention. However she ignored it, instead pulling out her phone to text her dad that she was alright, while the faint clicking of a mouse could be heard in the background. 

Yet as she glanced at the screen in her hand, she could see that it was riddled with cracks, making her inwardly curse at herself. It had probably gotten damaged when she fell, meaning that not only could she not text anyone, but that her dad would have to buy her a new phone. She felt her frustration boil inside of her. Why did she have to continue causing trouble for other people? 

An exhaled a deep breath out of her nose, her anger feeling like it was gripping her heart. 

However, this attracted Kanade’s attention, which was evident when she turned her head to look at An.

“Oh you’re awake again? How do you feel?” Kanade asked, the ends of her hair resting in the seat of her chair.

“Mmgh.. how long have I slept?” An asked, putting her phone away and rubbing her eyes.

“Well its August 27 2024…” Kanade started, her hands in her lap now.

“…!” An sucked in a breath. 

She had visited Aunt Nagis grave on the 25th before passing out, which likely means when she woke up again that it was the 26th. Then, she fell asleep again and woke up on the 27th, which meant she had been away from home for three days!

An opened her mouth, about to apologize and head home when her stomach spoke for her, letting out a growl that demanded sustenance. 

“I apologize An. I was so concerned about how you felt I didn’t get an opportunity to grab something for you to eat.” Kanade apologized, her gaze softening. “I don’t have much, but would you like to eat some minute ramen? I apologize I don’t have something else to offer you, but that’s all I have.”

An didn’t have ramen a lot, but the idea of eating something warm was too tempting to resist, even though she’d been sleeping on a warm bed for all this time.

“Yes please…” Was all An could manage and Kanade just grabbed one of her many unopened cups of ramen around the room and left, closing the door behind her as she went to heat up the ramen.

As bad as An felt for making Kanade do all of this, her heart warmed at the girls kindness. She knew that after this, she was definitely indebted to Kanade now, especially since An had cried infront of her. She new she had been a bother it Kanade, but she couldn’t help but find a part of her wanting to be friends with the introverted girl. She didn’t just want to leave someone who had done this much for her behind and forget about her, she wanted to keep in touch and somehow repay Kanade with the same generosity she showed her.

It didn’t take long for Kanade to come back in with the ramen, containing a shiny silver fork. She handed it to An who accepted it with a grateful smile before she sat down at her desk chair again, continuing to work on her song.

An was surprised that Kanade hadn’t asked about her mental breakdown, or why she seemed so mopey. But at the same time she was glad that Kanade hadn’t pushed it, as that would likely only have made things worse. Still, a part of An felt compelled to tell her. Even though she was basically a complete stranger An met barely three days ago. 

An wrapped her hands around the cup and stared into the murky water as it warmed her hands. Finally, after a moment, she had gained enough courage and broke the silence.

“Hey Kanade… can I tell you something?”

“Hm?”

And that was all it took for An to start confessing. She was surprised that a part of her had stirred her onwards to this moment. After all she had Kohane and everyone to support her right? So why did she feel so… so… so hopeless and alone?

But Kanade listened to her story quietly, managing eye contact with An the whole time to show that she was listening. 

“I think I understand the pain you’re going through.” Kanade said after An finished, surprising her.