#just a good little robot doing its job and nothing bad is going to happen to it ever wait whats that sound

[rararasputins-dick-mind-control]

streatcleaner doodle cause i think they are cute

[l0vem41l]

star stickers and best efforts.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop

author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs

if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.

maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.

the customers are another story.

sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.

“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”

while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.

“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.

at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.

his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.

you shake your head.

“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.

much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”

you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.

“my job.” 

“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.

“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”

you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.

sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.

go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.

“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”

“language.” he chides.

“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.

“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”

the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.

“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.

“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”

“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.

you groan and manage to shove his arm away.

“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.

“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”

with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.

and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.

“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.

“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.

“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”

sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”

something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.

you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.

meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?

— reblogs always appreciated!

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

I mean yeah voice actors voices are hot but also like in appearance

Corey Burton is a cutie

You know what, that's valid

You must go on a vision quest to see what the MCU is blind to (and by that I mean go find one (1) weird indie movie youve never heard of and watch the whole thing). Then you will be cleaned of your corporate media sins (/lh)

Oh good, I get to talk about this dumbass show (beloved)

RiD 01 as a whole is a SILLY fuckin show. Like they took the sillygoofy nature of g1 and went "bet," then cranked it 10 times higher. G1 still had its somber moments. Character work. Genuinely threatening and downright cruel villains. RiD 01 has occasional complex characters, but 90% of the time, this show is a fairly low-stakes comedy that's going full camp.

The autobots are dysfunctional and just straight up weird. Three of them are brothers, and it's not a trio anyone would EVER expect. Prowl is a fucking narc. Brawn is here but he's named X-Brawn bc I guess he had to get that Xtreme rebrand for the 2000s. He's also closer to Ironhide than anything, complete with the Texas accent. Their other brother is named Sideburn, he's the bumblebee equivalent as the Designated Kid Appeal Character, but he's also, and I shit you not, a sex pest about red sports cars. Not just bots with sports car alts. Any red sports car. He will drop everything to go chase a sexy red car and he catcalls it the whole time. The TFA constructicons have NOTHING on this guy. He gets so aggressively horny on main his narc-ass cop brother has to arrest him for it.

Optimus is here, and he's got his own family trouble. He has a brother too, and it's fucking Ultra Magnus. Magnus hates his guts because OP got chosen as Autobot leader and he didn't. At one point they find a cache of blank protoforms, Megatron gets to it first, and has one of them scan both himself and Optimus when he comes online, which results in Scourge, my lameass emo boyfriend i was defending through the whole Scourge War. He's literally just, like, Their Kid and he fucking hates his autobot dad so he lives with Megatron instead to try and make him proud of how Evil and Competent he is.

Megatron has like. Too many altmodes. Just too many. One of them sort of kind of counts as a sports car, that is partially red, Sideburn gets horny about it. Finding out it was Megatron did not stop him for asking for a date. Canon bisexual before IDW, even in the English dub.

The main villains serving Megatron are the predacons and they're about as threatening as team rocket and roughly half as competent. One of them is a squirrel voiced by Steve Blum. The second in command is SkyByte and he's so fucking bad at being evil. He writes poetry (which Optimus roasts the shit out of). He takes online personality quizzes and then gets legitimately upset if he doesn't get the results he wants. This was the plot of an entire episode. He has a crush on Megatron and fantasizes about doing a good job for him. He doesn't like scourge because he thinks he's Meg's new favorite. He does circus tricks on command. He has a soft spot for kids and he was so nice to them while actively trying to be evil that he ended up with a fanbase in-universe that followed him around and encouraged him to be a good guy. He is the EPITOME of a skrunkly little loser boyfailure AND he's a shark. What more could you ask for.

This is not even a quarter of the insane shit that happens in this show. It has NO chill, ever. If you want to see pure, unbridled chaos from robots that are usually at least a little more serious and intense, I literally cannot rec it enough. A lot of hot robots too, tbh. The things id do to Midnight Express...

Beeussy

[lemon-russ]

Not even technically a request I simply want to share brain worms with you. Imagine with me if you will, the inherent romanticism of helping Chairon with his prosthetic arm. He’s probably fully capable of fixing it himself but iirc he IS right-handed so he’d be having to use his off hand for any maintenance tasks. Being either a chapter mechanic or militarum one he’s been around before and seeing him kinda idly flexing his hand and fingers like something doesn’t feel right, and offering to help if he’d be open to it. He probably doesn’t have the tools on him but you do and he’s heard nothing but good things about you from others, and any of the times he’s personally been around you, you seemed very competent and (dare he even say) sweet.

But just having a moment of kinda ease and softness for a bit. You didn’t HAVE to help him but you wanted to, just because it was something kind to do for him. It really hits him just how much more delicate you are and he’s impressed by how nimble and practiced your hands are, even covered in nicks and scratches from your duty. Expertly checking for and fixing small issues he would’ve thought too superficial for mid-mission fixes but you jokingly chide him that you’re putting your pride as a mechanic on the line here and you wouldn’t be caught dead doing a half-assed job for an Ultramarine. It’s honestly quite calming watching you work, feeling the grind and tension in his fingers ease as you get everything working smoothly again.

Something deep inside him wishes you’d touch his other hand so tenderly, so he could actually feel it.

That thought confuses him but it doesn’t seem… bad to think about. It would probably feel quite nice. It’s so rare for marines to experience physical touch that doesn’t involve violence. He wants to know what that would feel like, touch without pain.

You finish your work far too quickly for his liking and it shakes him from his musings. He can’t really stay upset about it seeing how proud you are as he tests his range of motion and everything feels good as new. You’re practically beaming when he thanks you, and instead of some typical awe-filled reply he’d expect, you grin ear to ear and cheerily proclaim. “Feel free to come find me whenever you need, I always make time for my favorite ‘customers’ after all!”

Chairon doesn’t know how to respond to that so he simply nods and tries to ignore how warm he feels seeing the unbridled enthusiasm you have at the prospect of seeing him again. You’re probably just excited about working on Astartes tech again… yeah that’s probably all it is……. Though now that he thinks about it you’ve never called any of his brothers your “favorite customer”….. Suddenly he’s very glad his skin is dark enough it’s near impossible to notice him blushing, Gadriel would never let him hear the end of this XD

Mans gonna be slamming his hand in doors for an excuse to get fixed by the cute mechanic lmfao

But this is such a cute idea, I'm a sucker for like, mechanical care can be intimate in a way (I've seen one scene of scavengers reign and it was that one of what I can only describe as proxy lesbian sex of a woman cleaning the inside of her robot companion, so like, now that's in there and suddenly "repairs is sex" is an association I have lmfao)

You know shes going to be checking in on him too, fine tuning his hand voluntarily, "oh I just happened to notice that gear looks a little stuck..." "oh? It doesnt feel-" "nope its stuck here let me get it for you :)))"

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #269

I was going to try some Dead Cells today, but something unexpected happened and I didn't have an opportunity to devote a long time to focus on it. So I ended up doing other things, and that was good, too.

Once more, I did a lot of leisure writing today. It was... cathartic. Necessary. But time-consuming. It takes up a lot of my time and focus when I do it. And... given that it's just a pale imitation of what I am searching for, I'm not really sure if its time and focus cost is... prudent. Hm.

...There's so much I wish I could tell you. But I can't write it here and still have what I'm trying to do for you be taken seriously. I have to try to seem normal, at least for now.

...

It's not all I did today, though. At some point, J and I wandered around to get some errands done. He needed some things from the hardware store, I needed to get those meds prescribed by the sports medicine place, and we also needed toilet paper. So that's what we set out to do.

The medicine I got from the sports medicine place is called "celecoxib". I guess it's a kind of anti-inflammatory that works a little differently than ibuprofen, which is what I've been using on the really bad days. I'm supposed to take it twice a day for like a week, and then on an as-needed basis after that. I wonder if it'll help with the rib injury at all. Maybe it will. Or maybe nothing will happen. Or maybe something weird will happen. I don't know. But I took the first dose just now, so I guess we're gonna find out.

I saw a lot of birds-of-prey while we were out, so I took pictures of them for you:

...I think, so far, this is the best one I've ever gotten, though:

...It almost kinda looks like you, doesn't it...? Maybe a little...?

...

...Well... I'm reminded of you when I see great big flying birds in the sky, anyway. I'm not really sure why that's the case, but... it is what it is. I can be grateful for anything that prompts me to think about you.

Later, M, J, and I went out to see a movie called DanDaDan. J wanted to see it, so we went. I took some pictures of the sky on the way:

...The sky in general reminds me of you, especially during the parts of the day when it's blazing with kaleidoscopic hues.

...It was a very fun movie. Silly as heck, but also a lot of fun! I can't say for certain whether or not you'd like it. But... as part of seeing this movie, there were previews for other movies. And one of those movies was called The Wild Robot.

...It looked very promising. Next time someone calls you a "cyborg", now you have one more wholesome robot to point to, besides Zeta from The Zeta Project. We're gonna go see it! You can bet that when I do, I'm gonna tell you all about it, and probably encourage you to see it, too!

It doesn't come out until sometime towards the end of September, though. So if you wanna hear about it, you're gonna hafta hold on and stay safe at least until then, okay?

...Apparently, though, this was a book trilogy before it was a movie. So maybe I'll get the books after I see the movie. I wonder if our local libraries have a copy... hmm...

...It's about 9:30pm now. J is trying to make that garlic pudding. The whole kitchen smells amazing to me as a result. I'm going to have to go to bed relatively soonish, though; I go to my bakery job tomorrow! I'll try to get some yummy pictures for you, okay? So please just hang tight out there, okay...?

...

...I'm worried about you and stuff. I know how things ended for you the first time around and I... don't want to see you get broken, bloodied, beaten, and slashed up like that again. So please... please make sure that it doesn't happen to you again, okay? If you try to break things again, then that's how it's going to happen for you again, and I... don't want to spend a number of weeks crying again. So please... make good choices, okay? Make kind, good, loving, brave, and gentle choices out there. But also... please make sure you don't get killed, all right?

Oh!!! Before I forget. Over the last several days, J and I got even more pictures for you. Suppose now is as good a time as any to send them along... J's cellphone camera takes really good photos of the moon, unlike mine. I wonder if you'll be able to tell which ones are his and which ones are mine...

...In that set, the only pictures that were mine were the ones of the moon, haha... The rest were all J.

...J keeps making the garlic pudding as I'm writing this, and it smells and tastes absolutely phenomenal. It's still warming, though, and it won't be set until tomorrow. Look forward to pictures of it at some point after my shift at work is all done, okay?

I'm gonna get ready for bed now.

I love you. Please keep yourself safe out there. Please make it through to the end of all this alive and well. I'm counting on you coming back home.

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[clairethecutepup]

Chaotic Quintet: Five "Nights" of Chaos... (Ch. 1)

It was supposed to be a fun and sweet time at little Gerald's birthday party. Then again, "chaotic" better describes any scenario involving our appropriately named quintet! When eating some bad "Faz-Floats," the group finds themselves in their own personal world that reminisces the "Five Nights at Freddy's" game Fazbear Entertainment made of its own brand. Luckily, The Ed Trio and rest of the Cul-De-Sac are on the case of helping catch our "animatronics" and "night guard," and stop them from committing worse horrors than than cheap jumpscares. However, perhaps handling killer robots would prove a peaceful and fun experience, compared to handling a chaotic quintet...

[Chapter 1: Now, It’s a Party…]

The little blonde enters her office, taking her seat. She honestly needed to sit down… She wears a security outfit: a standard blue uniform, along with a cap, with her bone-shaped name tag hanging from the collar around her neck. "Clarissa Vlcek," it read; but "Claire" was appropriate enough a name. A collar would be odd on someone fully human, but not a wolf-hybrid like her. Luckily, her cap had the proper holes for her big, blue ears; while her pants had the proper hole for the larger, fluffier tail behind her. It was a supposedly easy job: just sit around in this old pizzeria, ensuring no chaos happens during those six late hours. Claire didn't recall the full details why she'd accept a job better suited for a braver and insomniatic person, but she was here now and had a task to do. First, she needed to check the phone messages, indicated by the landline's blinking red light.

"Hello, uh, hello...?" the box barked in a grumpy but high voice, "Hey, I wanted to record a message for ya, to help you out with your new job here! So, allow me to go over things, while you go ahead familiarize yourself with the controls or something..."

Claire did flip through different cameras, though had a hard time focusing on the large screen…

"Right, so the whole intro thing… 'Welcome to Jimmy Jazzrabbit's Pizza Bun-anza: a place where fantasy and fun come to life-- starring Jimmy himself and his furry crew!' Hmph, yeah, ‘cause nothing says ‘fun’ like nightmare fuel that sings crummy songs. You can probably see them all on camera 2A."

Claire switched to it just in time. Well, the phone guy's a liar: Claire doesn't see anyone there... 

"If they're missing, don't worry, they're probably just walking around."

Claire perks up at that. The robots... walk around? Her wolf ears hang atop her head and she bites her lip, finding the idea rather scary: “nightmare fuel” animals, with the most lifeless expressions, possibly stomping towards her and having their eyes shine in the dark. Well, if they're just walking, that's not much of a threat beyond a simple heart attack… 

"Yeah, so the whole thing is something about ‘servos locking up’...? I dunno, the machines will get overheated or something, and won't be able to perform the next day. Honestly, I say let them have the privilege of walking around-- they certainly don't get the privilege of having a nice hot bath, that's for sure. You know it’s bad, when a noseless guy like me can tell they reek-- and I live in garbage cans!"

Claire notices two of the animatronics: it seems their aimless walking has brought Seve the Scurvy Fox and Alexis the Adorable Chick to her left doorway. ... No, wait, it's not really "aimless walking" if they stop at the office entrance and, uh, stare.

"Oh yeah, it's probably not a good idea to let them see you after hours. Management thought it'd be easier to have the animatronics themselves help out, by programming them to assist with technical matters: AKA, making sure our animatronics are properly suited. If they spot you now, they'll probably think you're an uncovered endoskeleton-- which wouldn't be too good..."

It's even "less good," by the sounds of things, if Jimmy Jazzrabbit himself and Sarah the Singing Bear have appeared in the right doorway and window. Their staring isn't any more comforting...

"So long story short, if you're spotted: they'll think you're in need of being put inside a proper animatronic suit. It wouldn't be a fun experience, given how cramped those are and all the metallic bits within them... Why, if you wouldn't be poked to death, you'd be crushed instead. All we'd ever see of you again would be your eyes and teeth, which would gruesomely stick outside the costume."

Wait, WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO TO HER?! Oh no, the other four are already standing within the office and their respective doorways...

"Of course, if they spot you or especially get too close for comfort, you could always try going limp and seeing if they'd lose interest."

Claire throws herself onto the ground and plays dead-- though, it’s likelier she just naturally ragdolled down.

"... Well, then again, that could cause ‘em to believe you're actually an empty suit; so they may try to stuff an endoskeleton inside of you, which is debatably better but still horrible."

… Uh, should Claire just accept death at this point? Seve sneers and lies on his stomach, locking eyes with her.

"You wanna be a fox...?" he hiccups a little, "It’s your favorite or somethin’..."

Claire quickly jumps onto his head-- minding the singular horn --and bounces off it, over Alexis. She's much shorter than Sarah and Jimmy, allowing Claire to land in the left hallway easily and run for it on all fours; however, she's a little unsteady, more so rolling and stumbling-- and the others aren't exactly any more coherent... They simply snicker and follow along, slouching forward or swaying side-to-side.

-----

Little Gerald's hooves reached toward the employee in the Freddy Fazbear costume. "Freddy" waved at him, before playing a small bit of peek-a-boo with the young goat. Gerald laughed from his father's arms, his parents making it a joyful chorus.

"Oh, there goes Freddy..." Melody still smiles, "Say, 'Bye, bye,' Gerry."

He tries, "Fah-bah...!"

He continues to reach, opening and closing those little hooves still. It's clear which musical critter was his favorite.

Joseph chuckles, "Looks like we'll be spending his next few birthdays here..."

"I sure hope Seve would be happy to, as well..." Melody frowns, "... I've actually been worrying how their relationship might turn out as Gerald gets older, given..."

"Don't worry, Melody," Joseph puts a hoof on her shoulder, "Things might've been rocky at first; but if you and Harold were able to still be on good terms, I think we'll be able to work out any issues the boys might have with each other, too,” he lowers his hoof, “Seve would basically be an adult by the time Gerald’s ready for kindergarten, anyhow, so I doubt he’d behave too immaturely about things toward him,” Joseph then nuzzles his head against his son’s, “At worst, he’d probably just tickle the little fella something fierce for getting a bit too sassy…”

“I guess that’s more likely,” Melody also giggles, but then sighs, “It’s just… Family situations like this seem to strike a nerve with most people, and I wonder if it still does with him…”

“Well, lucky for us,” Joseph smiles at her again, “we’re not like ‘most people,’ him included.”

“I guess not,” Melody chuckles, “Speaking of Seve, where is he? I don’t think I’ve seen him or his friends for a bit now…”

“They’re…” Joseph thinks for a moment, but stops, “... Well, they were enjoying those float sundaes, the last I saw of ‘em…”

“Well, it’ll be time to enjoy Gerald’s cake and the rest of the party’s main event soon…”

“They’re probably just playing a few final rounds of skeeball or some of the other fun arcade games. Besides, those kids have Sarah and Jimmy to keep ‘em out of trouble, and Claire seems like she could keep even Alexis occupied. Overall, I’d say those three will have those kids back here, soon enough.”

-------

Claire had fallen onto her side and somehow continued to travel forward, while spinning on the ground in her maintained running motion. She gave up trying to stay steady on her feet (and hands), but this was making her stomach hurt a tad worse than before… Her movement comes to an end after she knocks over a trash can.

“Hey, watch it!” a muppet-like figure sticks his head out, “Just ‘cause I’m working in a can doesn’t mean you can treat me like actual trash!”

Claire perks up at the voice, in her cross-eyed and dizzy state. It was the voice on the phone! The puppet pushes himself and his can back upright, readjusting the security cap that sat in between his trumpet-like horns.

“Hey, Crazy Eyes! My own pair are up here, thank you very much…”

Claire does her best to look up, but can only succeed at tilting her head back.

“Yep, it’s me, ‘Garbage Grump’; but this time, it’s gonna be ‘Trash Manager Garbage Grump’ to you! As your superior, I also demand a proper apology for interfering with my job!”

Claire falls onto her stomach, eyes still “crazy” and her wolf ears hanging atop her head.

“Hmph, not the most sincere-sounding, but I suppose it’ll do… Just don’t do it again! Now then, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here, when you’re the nightguard, right?”

Claire turns onto her side, arms and legs out like an exhausted dog.

“So, long story short: I used to be the head honcho of security around here, but then they promoted me to Trash Manager! Basically, I go through the trash cans and make sure nothing important gets thrown away. I’m allowed to keep anything else I find, though! Boy, you’d be surprised how often people accidentally throw out: money, important tax forms, perfectly good pizzas... By the way, keep it a secret that we recycle pizza around here. Your worker's contract states that Fazbear Entertainment holds the right to sue over any claims that can be seen as 'defamation,' and lawyers only have to worry about making their clients just seem like the innocent party. 

... Hey, wait a minute!" he presses a purple finger into Claire's nose, "If you're the new night guard, what in the Sam Hill are ya doin’ outta your office?! You better just be an 'on foot' kinda... whatever-in-the-heck-you-are. I think Braceface said you're supposed to be some kinda 'puppy,' but then there's the freaky human head and body..." he looks up, "Speaking of, here's her partner in crime: the raging ray of sunshine himself..."

Seve chuckles and teeters over to Claire, as she tries to stand but keeps slipping like she's on ice.

"Heh, heh... I'm... I'm gonna stuff ya where the sun don't shine..."

"Ho boy," Garbage Gump rolls his eyes, "Whatever you lot got into this time seems to have done a real doozy on ya! Sheesh, I’ve already gotta deal with you menaces in just dreams… Why you gotta force a poor trash-puppet to deal with your ugly mugs beyond that?”

"Hey, your mom...!" Seve shakes his fist, swaying, "Now, p-put a cork in it..."

"Well, I'm outta here, before the rest of you looney loofahs decide to show up," Garbage Grump ducks back into his container, "Also, don't even think about using this can or any other I'm in. You end up needing to get it out, there's plenty of toilets to spray green instead!"

Seve continues to chuckle and approach the helpless, struggling Claire... Then, he falls over and lies on his face.

"... Hi, floor."

Claire finally manages to stumble past him-- only to find herself lifted up by either arm, with Sarah and Jimmy on either side.

"I got ‘er, Jimmy..."

"Wonderful job, S'rah... Let's go..."

"Heh, you're goin' straight to a suit..."

The two can't agree on a focused path, so they essentially pull Claire (and the other) in either direction. Claire is knocked from their grips, when her face collides with the nearby doorway: Jimmy stood in place, Sarah went around the right side of it, and Claire almost fractured her skull. Fortunately, that blow was sombering enough to help Claire steady herself enough to run quadrupedally again; although, she ends up stumbling and sliding across her stomach to the office door. Alexis was inside, blocking off the pup's safe haven. Claire paws at the door, as the other three approach, whimpering and even desperately barking. Alexis just giggles and wiggles her right fingertips from the window. When Claire is surrounded and grabbed, Alexis finally exits the office to join them. Claire is carried above head, with the trio underneath somehow managing to stay steady; while Alexis lies on her stomach and pushes herself forward with her legs.

-----

"Seve... Seve, sweetie, it's time for the main part..." Melody calls around, then bites her hooved fingertip, "Oh, where is he; was he not comfortable with this after all...?"

She wasn't the only one searching: the rest of Joseph's family, the buck included, sought the boy and his group. Even little Gerald "helped," in his own special way. 

As everyone else cried:

"Seve!"

"Alexis...?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Ideori..."

"Claire?"

Little Gerald cried:

"Seh-bleh!"

"Leh-Leh...?"

"Sa-Ja..."

"Wooooo…!"

But no matter how they were called, the quintet answered from nowhere and couldn't be spotted...

"Joe, I'm starting to worry..."

"Don't worry, Melody, I know they still have to be inside... Let's see if the staff will help."

The location was used to lost children, but lost adults were a new one. Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to make rumors about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza seem true... And yes, they are just rumors-- don't make Fazbear Entertainment sic their lawyers upon you with a defamation lawsuit, just as they did those schoolkids and their playground gossip! But if they wish to keep them as just rumors (and an excuse to churn out horror-themed content for greater profit and consumer reach), then they need to find: Red-Hot RedHead, “Sissy” and Sassy, Teenage Angst, Lord-Help-Us-All, and the “family’s” pet dog. Or, whatever the blonde puppy-human thing was… 

One employee leans out from the women's restroom.

"They're not in here," the man shrugs, before feeling another toilet paper roll hit his head, "OW!” he looks back, “Ladies, I keep telling you, I'm only here to find some lost kids... and adults. Ugh, could we seriously not have had someone else check in here...?"

One employee rises from the ballpit.

"Nope, I can't see them under here, and they didn't seem to be anywhere else in the play area..." she winces as a ball bounces off her face, "OW! Ugh, why is it never you little demons who go missing?!"

They all then notice a fellow employee standing outside the building, raising and lowering an apparent cigarette. They pass the window and all stare at him from the entrance doors. They don't go unnoticed...

"... Uh," he quickly drops and smothers it under his foot, "I didn't find them in the parking lot..."

They just continue to stare.

"Hey, this job can get real stressful sometimes, okay?! I gotta take a break where I can..."

Where, oh, where could that quintet have gone? Wait, there was one place they hadn't checked out: the "Employee's Only" sections! It was either that, or they checked the air ducts surrounding this place... Some employees head behind the scenes, keeping eyes peeled and ears opened-- and they pray that no actual bodies are found inside animatronic suits. Seriously, where do kids come up with this stuff...? They then hear a commotion: laughter and a puppy's cries. Aww, they could use the uplifting cuteness of a yippy, energetic little pup themselv-- WHAT IN THE HECK ARE THEY LOOKING AT?!!

It would appear two adult humans and two goat kids-- all four of them wearing either a Bonnie, Chica, Freddy or Foxy mascot head --are stuffing the head of some wolf-girl into the jaws of a yellowed Freddy animatronic. Obviously, only a moron would give animatronics teeth that could hurt their clientele-- and they're sick of that stupid "frontal lobe" rumor! --so at most, the poor girl needs to worry about just having her head stuck in a bigger one. Okay, no more time to just gawk, the employees have to act!

"Hey, what're you all doing back here?"

"I think it's obvious they're--"

Employee A needs to give Employee B a raised eyebrow, effectively shutting his stupid yap. Maybe this idiot actually got part of his brain bitten off, at some part... Possibly the same for these idiots if they're chuckling like their action is the funniest thing ever. It's not, as an animatronic doesn't require sharp and steel teeth to risk potential injury! Plus, what non-sicko likes seeing a puppy, even a weird puppy-human-thing, getting tormented...?

"Get that kid outta there!" Employee A grabs Claire's waist, "Hold on, I'll get you--!"

Claire only becomes technically freed: the Freddy head comes off with her, but keeps hold. Claire, though blind, runs for her life-- more stumbling and spinning ensuing.

"Hey, ya ruined it..." Seve hiccups, "W-We were supposed to put her in there, like... like the game..."

"J-Just grab 'er and try again..." Sarah sways, then presses a finger to Employee A's nose, "And you butt out, or I'll kick yours..."

Employee B just stands by and watches the quartet walk out.

"So, you think that was them?"

"... Just help me warn the rest of the staff, you idiot..."

They needed to warn the entire establishment-- if it wouldn't be too late! Claire bursts through the doors and enters the public section of the pizzeria: she continues her quadrupedal "run," slipping and sliding across the area-- but causing plenty of destruction! Claire knocks over tables, chairs, trash cans; she sends those in mascot suits into the ceiling, the wall, or sends them flying elsewhere… There's no mercy involved with her panicked wrath. The rest of the Chaotic Quintet then appear, spotting their hapless friend.

"You're not getting out of a suit that easy...!" Seve points, "Get 'er...!"

He falls onto the ground, while the others leap (or stumble) into action. Alexis laughs and hops onto Claire’s back, making the pup buck about. Many more staff members are sent flying by Claire’s feet as they try intervening, two of them onto little Gerald’s party table: the sliced cake, the ice cream bowls, the presents… Everything flew high. Gerald’s cousins each caught a bowl of either vanilla, chocolate or strawberry ice cream, each with a slice of cake landing perfectly on it-- and wouldn’t you know it? Lady Luck ensured they each got the bowl that’s their specific favorite flavor! Chocolate was little Gerald’s favorite, and he only needed to stretch his tiny mouth wide open to catch the flying gob and then hold his hooves out to catch the chocolate cake slice. After shivering off the coldness that spread through his gulping body-- with a little, “Brrr…!” to accompany it --he devours the cake in another singular bite that made him more hamster than goat.

The presents all fly from their boxes, as the lids fly off: Joseph and Gerald find themselves boxed in by a small wall of many neat, new toys. Claire finally bucks Alexis off, who then lands onto Melody.

“Alexandra Vanhoover,” the goat-woman stands herself and the girl up, “just what is the meaning of this…?!”

“Shush-shush…” Alexis presses a hoof against the other’s face, moving it around, “We play now…”

“... Are you… slurring?” Melody removes her hand, “Alexis, sweetie, what were you all doing until now…?”

“We’re being funny… Claire’s gonna laugh, too…”

Speaking of, the pup still struggles to get her head free from the animatronic part; then Sarah grabs Seve and lifts him by the shirt.

“Go get ‘er, Seve…!”

Sarah chucks him-- straight into Jimmy, making the man fall back and kick his legs up. Seve bounces off him and arcs over the prize counter, crashing  into the wall’s shelves. The employee remains indifferent. A “Freddy bear” ascends toward the ceiling, before coming down toward Gerald: its arms stretch out and get ready to hug its target. Little Gerald catches it in a returned hug, laughing and nuzzling it.

“Fah-bah!”

Then, he sucks on the round ear of it. Claire scurries up the stairs and onto the stage, knocking over the performing bear, bird and bunny like dominoes. Finally, she's able to pry the yellowed Freddy head off with her paws-- just in time for Seve and Alexis to jump onto her head and shoulders. The kids don't understand why exactly the show has taken this turn, but they all cheer anyway. Sarah then tries to help the goats by throwing Jimmy on stage-- but she throws him onto the wall instead.

"Get 'er, Jimmy...!"

Garbage Grump decides to stick himself out from the nearby plastic bin.

"You call that wrestling? You goats couldn't even wrangle a worm that was taped down for ya-- with duct tape!"

"I'll wrangle you!"

Seve battle cries as he leaps from stage and headfirst into the bin. Garbage Grump retracts, causing the landing boy to kick his lower half’s legs outside the circular hole's lid. Jimmy finally peels off the wall and hits the stage, while Sarah climbs on and pins Claire down-- pushing on Alexis, also. The viewing children continue to cheer and chant, as two employees look at each other.

"Don't ya just loooovveee coming into work...?"

"Actually, freaks like this are why I do these sorts of jobs. You'd be amazed how much there is to laugh at; saves me money on entertainment, too."

"Well, aren't you lucky...?"

A woman then approaches, a little human-dog hybrid in her arms.

"Excuse me," she taps one of their shoulders, "I'd like to lodge a complaint..."

"We're sorry, Miss, but Fazbear Entertainment isn't responsible for festivities ruined by random yahoos that decide to make general asses of themselves-- even if they are wearing official Fazbear costume pieces or security outfits..."

"No, I'm not complaining about that," the woman holds up the boy she has, "I'm complaining because my son somehow got drunk from your Faz-Float Sundae!"

The employees look at each other, then the Chaotic Quintet... Well, if it was apparently contagious-- if it is the actual reason they've got ass-yahoos running around --then they need to visit the kitchen. They burst through the doors.

"Larry... How are you making Faz-Floats?"

The swaying man looks at them.

"I put the... soda in the ice crea-- no, the ice cream in the soda, so it can be all... 'floaty'..."

"Oh for the love-- are you drunk?!"

Larry sobs into his hands.

"I went to culinary school and college, only to become a ‘cook’ in a deadend job at some Chuck. E Cheese knockoff…!! Why the hell would I be sober?!”

“Uhh, seems to me that Larry got the beer and root beer mixed up…”

“Why do ‘kid’s places’ even need beer…?”

“Because kids themselves are stressful. Don’t get me started on what all that birthday stuff must be like…”

"Well, at least we have an answer to our 'guest stars' up on the stage..."

The two employees leave Larry to cry on the floor.

"I got a master's, dammit-- a master's...!!"

Unfortunately, other parents decided the Chaotic Quintet's antics were getting rather annoying and inconsiderate toward their childrens' special day... At the very least, it wasn’t a shared mentality: the kids seemed to appreciate the exciting change to Freddy's show and loved the slammed machines' malfunctioning ticket-dispensing. No counter prize would be left unclaimed-- or whatever prizes Seve didn't just wreck --no kid would be left without tokens or tickets, and all instantly became winners when that cheating claw machine broke open on the floor and spilled its contents. Even the kids inside the giant, widespread entanglement of a playset laughed and watched in delight. It didn't matter if it's the silly goats making two kids laugh with, "Ah ha, got you-- Oh wait, my bad..." each time they passed by; or Sarah dragging Jimmy behind her through the area, the two making everyone laugh with their banter.

"Sarah, may I remind you that I have a face under here...? You're grinding it..."

"You've also got hands and knees, but you're too lazy to use even them... How's about you be too lazy to use your mouth, too, just going all the way and stop being annoying...?"

"You 'go all the way,' straight to Albakerky!"

"Well, you're an Alba-Turkey!"

Jimmy gasps at the worst "slur" to ever be thrown.

"That's it, you vile... Chicken Offen-der! We go our separate ways!"

"Fine! You stink, anyway..."

The kids all giggle as Sarah releases his ankle and the man just pulls himself along the opposite path-- not bothering to lift his face and grind it himself. Eventually, Claire gets cornered by all four of her friends within a "dead end" portion.

"We got her now..." Sarah chuckles, "Grab 'er!"

They all dive into Claire, making the circular end of the playset detach and crash onto the ground. When they all crawl out, trying to steady themselves from both alcohol and fall, they're grabbed by the disgruntled adults they annoyed.

"That's it," a man roars, "we've had enough of you assholes wrecking everything! If the staff won't do anything about you, we will!"

Claire yelps, not wanting more "animatronics" to do her in. Before the rest of her quintet can do anything, Claire sends the adults scurrying in terror because of her wolfish ferocity: she dishes out a flurry of bitemarks and scratches, acting more like a frantic feline than a mutt who's only capable of snapping her jaws... Normally, Alexis could stop this without so much as a nip at her, or Sarah could stop this with a few scratches; but it's clear no one's going to stop the frantic wolf-girl like this. When released, Claire runs to the kitchen and is followed by her quintet. Larry still cries on the floor, as Claire scampers around and jumps out the window. Everyone else enters.

"Hey, where'd she go...?" Seve looks around, "G-Give it up, Claire, you're goin' in a suit...!"

"Maybe she went in here...?" Alexis walks over to the oven, "Claire, you silly girl, that's not a suit..."

She only needed to turn the knob, and the oven exploded: the fiery eruption sent the group flying through the ceiling and roof, before they landed in the parking lot. The smoking four then spot Claire catching her breath beside a car, then she spots them; the chase can only resume after. 

"Seve, everyone, wait a minute...!" Melody runs outside, "There's no need for all of this chaos...!"

Joseph runs outside, stopping alongside her and with little Gerald still in hoof.

"Melody, it's no use... that lot are far too under the influence to listen to a thing we say."

"But what do we do then?! My son is intoxicated, and his friends won't be any less of a magnet for danger...!"

"Well, perhaps there's someone we can rely on... Didn't that couple hand us that emergency number in case something happened to them?"

Thanks to Sarah and Jimmy's caution... and experience... Melody and Joseph had access to the proper help: one tall man and his trio of similarly named friends.

"Hello!" Ed answers his phone, "My name is Ed! I say so because I do not recognize your number."

"Uh, hi there..." Joseph responded, "So, the young lady who gave us this number claimed you were her brother and that you'd be among the more ideal people to call, should something happen regarding her...?"

"Is Baby Sister alright?!"

"Uh, I wouldn't exactly say she is, nor the rest of her crew... Including my step-son, sadly enough. They appear to have been fed something, uh, ‘inappropriate’ and are now at risk of causing mayhem in their... inebriated states?"

"Say no more, mysterious stranger! Where has Baby Sister and her friends gone?"

"Well, I can only say they're running loose out there..."

"Do not worry, Ed and friends shall save them-- and everyone else!"

Ed hangs up and jumps up from the couch he read a comic on.

"Ed, is everything alright?" Double Dee looks up from his standard book and chair, "What's all this discussion about 'saving others'?"

"Don't tell me you actually said something about Sarah..." Eddy sighs, looking up from his magazine and the floor, "Then again, it ain't like you call the mailman, 'Baby Sister'... What's the frog-mouthed brat and the rest of those idiots up to this time?"

"They have gone mad, and we must stop them!" Ed explains, "They are under some kind of 'influence.'"

"You mean they're parading around with disorganized thoughts and impaired alertness?!" Double Dee yelps, shooting up, "Oh, dear lord, we need to act immediately!!"

"Quick, call the police, the firemen--" Eddy bites his fingernails and also stands, "--call the stinkin' FBI!! Those guys can be trouble when they ain't all messed up in the head! ... Although, I'm pretty sure that Alexis kid is already crazy... But that just means we really are in deep trouble if they're all out of it!"

"Better idea, Eddy," Double Dee suggests, "we inform the rest of the Cul-De-Sac, as they're also far more familiar with our admittedly troublesome quintet."

"Well, quit standing around and help get 'em on the hunt for those whack jobs!"

"Do not worry, Baby Sister..." Ed proclaims, pointing to the sky, "We shall save you from yourselves!"

Double Dee sighs, "And, hopefully the entire town-- or what they haven't already decimated..."

[End Chapter]

---------

Yeah, they're not the "Chaotic Quintet" for no reason... Also, what are your own thoughts regarding Chuck E. Cheese controversies-- from the serving of alcohol, to the "recycled pizza" myth?

[multyfandoms-imagines]

Hello! This is the Traffic Light OT3 asker again. Thank you for the latest post you posted and made for Ayin, Carmen and Benjamin!

If you're okay with it and aren't tired of my requests, to continue with the OT3 ask before.

May I ask some fluff headcanons with Ayin, Carmen and Benjamin getting married then raising Enoch, Lisa and Angela as siblings in a no death, happy domestic life scenario?

The Traffic Light Trio gettig married and adopting Enoch and Lisa and building Angela would be very cute indeed.

Of course there gotta be an au where nothing bad happens

Spoilers btw

Happy little family

•that was Carmen's idea. Im just gonna say it right away. That idea got into her head as soon as Lisa and Enoch got saved from Sweepers

•Benjamin loved this idea but Ayin had second thoughts because of their job. Its not exactly easy to manage an entire facility with possibly-world-ending-danger-level monsters that can go wild should they not be satisfied AND raise a family

•Benjamin encouraged Ayin to stop working 24/7 and have some time dedicated to rest and family

•the dang idiot instead translated it into "make a robot to look after your facility when you cant" and boom. Angela was built

•okay it didnt go as goofy as i make it sound, but Ayin did create Angela. Carmen was an inspiration to her design, but naming was hard. He didnt feel like names he picked fit the robot

•other 2 found out about it and, while disappointed that Ayin cant just sit still and rest for once in his god damn life, decided to help him out. Ayin settled for "Angela"

•she was supposed to learn how to manage facility, but it turned out that Angela barely knew basic management skills. She was closer to a curious teen then a smart woman

•Enoch didnt mind having an older sister but Lisa got pouty. Because little kid wanted more attention (siblings will understand lol)

•Benjamin and Carmen encouraged Ayin to spend time with 3 kids, they can run a facility without him. Not to mention how there were some other close friends of theirs to help out: Elijah, Gabriel, Michelle, Giovanni, Kali and Daniel

•que Ayin awkwardly trying to be a normal dad montage. He is trying his best okay?

•Angela learns things quicker and thus asks her father (Ayin) to teach her more. Ayin is a good teacher when he puts his mind into it

•these 2 + Carmen and Benjamin will later have a serious talk regarding the future of Lobotomy Corporation, Ayin's unhealthy schedule and Angela's start of work

•Angela is at first scared of the responsibility, because it is alot. It scares her to be responsible if someone were to get into accident. But, well... That is what her father was doing alot. And uncle Benjamin with mother (Carmen) do worry about dad...

•she decides, even if with shaky beginning, to ask Ayin how to run the facility. Dad always looked tired after a particularly stressful day while she and her siblings played carelessly. Angela hopes to make Ayin's work more bearable

•somewhere Garion is looking amused with how things turn out in Lobotomy but decided to observe longer, sipping tea

•one time Lisa, Enoch and Angela did a group present for Ayin, Benjamin and Carmen. Ayin cried because he thought he didnt spend enough time with family to deserve it

•3 kids were just happy to be with each other. Angela steadily learnt how to manage facility even without Ayin to make sure he stays healthy

[peterrrei]

Ok but do tell us abt the Italian dub lore, please.

ok so. ahfkajd maybe lore is a big word but its a series of facts that are HILARIOUS to me and my boyfriend lmfao. this is going to be long I Think

so! fun fact! italy is the first country that aired gundam 0079 outside of japan! in 1980 i believe. so we have this generation of boomers who grew up watching gundam and other mecha shows who are constantly complaining about Today’s Cartoons Being Bad. which is. okay whatever. but also…! i am pretty sure that the television channel who bought gundam had no idea what it is about. and so the translations feel very off and more often than not theyre wrong or just. its impossible to understand what is happening!

for example, out of curiosity i watched the first episode of vintage dub edition (which is on amaz*n prime. they removed the original series in japanese and left vintage edition there. ok whatever. explode).

i get to the first sayla and char meeting scene and. nothing about their interaction leads you to believe that theyre brother and sister. char calls her “blondie”. its just. what. i remember even seeing italian comments under gundam videos going like: “oh i recently rewatched gundam in japanese with subtitles and so many things make sense now! i had no idea char and sayla were related!”

and its funny to me. because as i said earlier this generation of mostly Men in their 50s believe everything thats not gundam or their other old mecha shows is shit. but they had no idea of what was happening in the show!!! i guess the message about war still came across but idk. its funny

the other funny thing is that italian television channels used to do this thing in the past where they would completely change characters name if they felt like they were too difficult for ita viewers. and thats how… we got Peter Rei! commander of the robot! (i’ll get to this quote in a bit.)

yes. amuro is peter. and char is scia (which is cute and kinda a pun bc scia means trail and comets leave trails!). sayla is pronounced seira like in japanese. mirai is flammet (???). fraw is mirka. haro is pallina!!!!! (little bouncy ball…….)

the dub is really bad. peter amuro sounds like an old guy. chars voice is kinda cute and fitting but everything else is a mess. but we got………… gundam italian opening!!!!! which is kinda a banger despite the lyrics being so. ???

heres the opening

the lyrics, translated:

“here we are, we are you friends,

and my name is peter rei!

there they are, assaulting us, never be afraid!

because there’s someone here who will think of you!

(gundam gundam gundam etc)

my friends, here i am, peter rei,

commander of the robot!

i am the guy who says No! to the enemies,

because no one else can!

(no one can defeat…. gundam!!!!!!)”

there’s also a longer version with other insane lyrics like Oooh here comes the indestructible guntank!!! which is. lol

ok, one last thing also

the episodes names are hilarious.

“gundam flies!” “garma dies!”

“good job flammet(mirai)!” ????

(theres some episodes missing obviously, but these are the names of the last episodes and its so funny)

gundam must win!

gundam wins again!

gundam is invincible

gundam’s enemies

BRAVO GUNDAM!!!!

no one is stronger than gundam….

lmfao really feels like grandpappy gundam is giving itself a pep talk for motivation. cmon gundy u can do it…

ok i think im done LMFAO SORRY maybe this is all irrelevant but its funny to ME

[omegasmileyface]

ok im gonna put this in a seperate post so hopefully i can keep getting responses but I THINK, from what ive seen, that

a lot of people's perception of tenma's narrative purpose is fixed around him being a father. as in he's there to represent a failed, or imperfect, or distant father figure for atom. perhaps to contrast with ochanomizu.

(now bear in mind what im about to say is based off the 50s/60s and 80s series since those are the ones tezuka was directly involved with, and ive never seen the 60s anime or the japanese dub of the 80s anime. i have, however, read all of the original and 80s manga that are translated in the omnibus collection, and seen all of the 80s english dub that's available on tubi)

i personally always got the vibe that tezuka's intention with him had very little to do with him being a father. i mean obviously he is a father, and that's very important to the relationship he has to the creation of atom, but i think that part of his character- and most of his character to begin with- is pretty contained within origin story territory. he's an inciting character. (i saw a response on that post which said much the same thing btw!) if anything his fatherhood is important with respect to tobio. he makes atom, and raises him, because he wants to be a good father to tobio by "keeping him alive" after he died from his gift. (who the fuck gives a car to an 8 year old.) when he was treating atom as a kid, he had no intention of making himself into atom's father so much as making atom into his son. which, like, while it's a shitty thing for a father to do, it is a perfectly valid relationship for a character to have with fatherhood. I would say that at this point he's a (bad) father character. but by the time he sells atom to the circus, he doesn't care anymore. when he notices that atom isn't growing, he doesn't try to make him grow (presumably he'd be able to do that, or at least try! he did design the kid after all.) like a demanding, idealistic father, he instead just kicks him out and calls him a robot freak. he does NOT see atom as his son, not by this point. atom was not, to him, a bad son he was trying to turn into a son, he was a not-son he was trying to turn into a son, and he didn't pass the test. now he's just a freak. hoshie's atached, but tenma doesn't give a shit anymore. the robot he made didn't do its job, which was to masquerade as his son. now, for a while atom does see tenma as his father who abandoned him, but by the time ochanomizu rescues him from the circus, he's over it. tenma was just a period of his life, much like hamegg, and now he's moving on to a new one where he gets to go to school and hang out with funny old men.

it's worth mentioning the (english dub of the) 80s series (from what ive heard the japanese version is a little different? but i havent seen it yet) in which tenma does the same deal of trying to fit atom into being the perfect son, but when atom gets stolen (he's not sold in this one!) tenma is seen, deeply distressed and at least a little sorry, looking for him. but then, even when atom becomes sort of a public figure, tenma is never seen again. and atom doesn't mention him again (unless he does in the finale atlas episodes?? i dont remember that but it could have happened and i cANT CHECK BC THEY TOOK IT OFF TUBI AND I HAVE YET TO GET IT SOMEWHERE ELSE sobbing.)

but back to the manga, the vast majority of astro boy comics don't even mention tenma. they take place after, and do not call back to, his period of pretending atom was tobio. there are only a few comics where tenma makes a return (the blue knight saga, the greatest robot on earth, and that one with the bunny come to mind) and he generally says nothing about atom that implies he thinks of him as a son. barely even as a creation, really, mostly just some kid he knows. he tends to show up wearing sunglasses, when asked where he's been claimed to have denounced the world, offer some help (repairs, upgrades, etc) to atom and then leave. he might spy on him too but enh when asked, in the greatest robot, whether he wants to stay and meet uran and ochan, he denies the offer, insisting he still doesn't want a settled, public presence. he disappears back into the ether. atom sometimes shows signs of having missed him and being excited to see him again, but accepting how brief it is and the life he has now, kind of like you might get excited to see an uncle you don't hear from for a few years at a time.

the exception is the blue knight saga, in which he's treated way more as a villain than as a neutral backstory/cameo character. he's approached as "the one man who could repair atom from this... doctor tenma." and then he like tortures a guy to force him to use his time travel ability for his own gain (he also kills his future self i think. classic tenma move) and also, the main thing here, tries to take atom back and make him do evil for him. it backfires, and evil atom doesnt give a shit about tenma any more than he gives a shit about any other human (did... did tenma forget he's human?), but tenma's goal was control. i don't know if id call this a fatherhood plot. his main intention was, rather than treating atom as a son, to have atom under his power. again, while shitty parenting, not an invalid relationship for a character to have with fatherhood (cough cough vlad masters cough), but iirc it's sort of unclear whether his intention is to be a shitty father or to be the owner of a weapon. maybe both.

(the blue knight depiction of tenma is almost certainly the main inspiration for his role in the 2003 series. it perfectly reflects the "king of robots" plot, and his intention via shadow of having control over that king. the 03 series takes this version of tenma, where he's literally evil and wants atom under his thumb, and spreads it out so it's present throughout the whole series, rather than just this one plot out of many, and then adds an emotional angle of his relationship with tobio's death, and thus fatherhood, for the sake of adding complexity to his character)

and i think the 03 series and the way it uses this as a constant is the reason so many people see tenma's role as that of a (bad) father. in the 03 series he has SO MUCH more presence, and he absolutely is a father in that series. if you asked 03 atom about tenma he'd be like "tenma! my father! he's always trying to take me back in as his son but he doesn't realize that things have changed since tobio..." or whatever and if you asked 50s he'd be like "oh, my creator? he tried to raise me like his son once but that didn't work out. i see him from time to time but he seems to be up to his own stuff now." he's like morally-grey hamegg. like skunk but with a single failed adoption plot. (here's the tldr) and since so many current astro boy fans like the 2003 show as their main media, i can see why this concept would permeate down to the base idea of tenma in general. i fucking love the 2003 show! and i love what they did with tenma's character. but i feel like it's important to note that, with the exception of the blue knight arc, he is a wildly different character in that reboot than osamu tezuka wrote him to be. i feel like it's important to keep tezuka's message in mind, which from my understanding was a lot more personal/familial in his original work than in later reboots, and was more regarding the wider everyday trials and tribulations of trying to get organic and artificial life to get along.

ps id also like to mention the relationship between tenma and ochan. ochan also doesnt really care about tenma in the original works, and really only knows him as "that crazy minister before me who spent the whole budget on this good boy and then left him to rot". tenma only knows ochan as the guy who replaced him. i feel like a:tb's influence may have helped tenma feel more important (this time with regards to ochanomizu) than he might really be

[writefightandflightclub]

I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long. 

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.” 

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles. 

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

There's a team of heroes vs one villain in the town and one of the heroes gives the others away when they all decide cover up something awful. Villain applauds the hero for coming forward, showering them in praise and affection, but Hero is apprehensive about everything because under the masks they still were friends with the other heroes- and they betrayed them. With no friends and no job, however, they keep coming to Villain for their needs.

Request #16

Warning: torture, descriptions of harm & wounds.

Here you go! 💖💖

~~~~

Hero couldn't believe what lay before their eyes. While they were out on patrol, their teammates had called them, telling them to get back to base immediately. Apparently, they had caught one of Villain's henchmen and were in the middle of interrogating them.

This, however, was not how Hero imagined their 'interrogation' would look like. Henchman's bruised and bloodied body was lying on the cold stone floor, shaking, their breathing dangerously heavy. "W-What happened?!"

"Oh, yeah, they didn't wanna talk, so we had to uh... get a little rough, ya know?" - Second Hero answered, calm and unbothered, Third Hero and Fourth Hero equally unconcerned.

"Anyway, where were we?" - Third Hero asked no one in particular as they moved closer to the fallen henchman. Calling forth their power, they continued, "This bitch still hasn't said a word."

Henchman tensed up, preparing for more pain, before Hero suddenly interrupted, "Hold on, uh- How about you let me take a crack at 'em, ay? And you guys go take a break; it looks like we're gonna be at it for a while."

The third hero considered their suggestion for a moment, not noticing the bead of sweat going down Hero's forehead, and then responded with a grin, "Aight, leave some for us to play with later, though."

The three blood-covered heroes exited the room chuckling, leaving Hero and Henchman alone. As the hero neared the beaten-up crook they tensed up, jaw locking tight.

They did flinch, however, as Hero's hand gently landed on their shoulder. The henchman dared a glance at them, and their confusion only grew as they saw the worry on the other's face. "Are- Are you alright?"

"..."

"Right, okay- you don't want to talk- uh... here." - Hero continued the one-sided conversation, carefully lifting Henchman into a bridal carry. The criminal tried to fight against them but only hissed as pain shot through their entire body. They rested their head against the hero's shoulder with a groan, letting them do as they pleased.

Hero called upon their power, their eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. Henchman was ready for pain, but to their surprise, the hero did not use their power to hurt them. Honestly, they weren't even sure what their power was, as they've never seen them use it.

The faint sound of pitter-patter caught their attention. The room's door opened, and through it came a... spider-shaped machine...? It was quite odd-looking, a short cylinder with some pointy legs attached to it, alongside what was probably cameras going all around its side, giving it three-sixty vision. The contraption was big, too, and apparently sturdy enough for the hero to stand atop it with the henchman still in their arms.

"W-Wha...?" - Henchman tried, but the Hero quickly cut them off, "I can control machines with my mind."

With a surge of power from the hero, the odd metallic spider moved again, taking them out of the interrogation room. It skittered along the ground before suddenly climbing onto the wall. Henchman yelped as they expected gravity to drag them to the floor but were surprised yet again as both humans and the robot moved horizontally to the ground without issue.

The henchman didn't even bother asking as they moved along the ceiling, traveling upside down; they just assumed it had something to do with magnets. They were very high up. The heroes' base had some awfully tall ceilings, but they supposed it was convenient in this scenario, as the two wouldn't easily be spotted. Upon looking up- or down? Whatever it was, they noticed they were currently in a lounge room, the other three heroes chatting amongst themself below them.

Both Henchman and Hero kept their mouths shut tight as they passed over the team and slithered into another room. Once the human chatter faded from their ears, they both let out a breath, the hero's machine speeding up, crawling to a nearby window.

As the cool outside air hit their face, the henchman let themself relax a bit in the other's hold, still confused but now more convinced that they were being helped. The sun had nearly set, and nighttime's darkness was slowly enveloping the city.

As the moon began rising into the sky, Hero and Henchman moved across rooftops and between alleyways, headed straight for Villain's lair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You know, I probably should've asked earlier..." - Henchman began. The two were standing atop a building, looking down at the villain's lair. " But why are you... helping me?"

"..." - Hero was silent at first, a pained frown taking over their face as they thought about their teammates, their friends. They never expected the three would do something like this...

"I... I couldn't just let them hurt you like that. It- It wasn't right..."

Without another word from either of them, they descended down the side of the building and moved closer to the guards stationed outside. Before entering the henchmen's line of sight, Hero moved off their machine, hiding it nearby, and walked closer.

They immediately became surrounded, power-enhanced guns pointed right at the hero. They stood still as a rifle was pressed against the back of their head, and Henchman was carefully taken from them. Their arms were then forced behind their back and put into power-suppressing cuffs.

As the henchmen dragged them along, they could only ponder whether this was a good idea or not. Hero should've thought this through a little bit better, shouldn't they have? It was a very rash decision on their part, but they couldn't just stand by and let the poor henchman get tortured!

They- They were a hero. Their teammates too! All four of them were, or rather, they were supposed to be. And heroes- Heroes weren't supposed to hurt people...

Lost amidst their thoughts, Hero failed to realize that they were already standing before the villain's office. The doors swung open, and they were thrown inside, falling to their knees. Villain looked unsurprised; their henchmen had no doubt informed them of the intruder as soon as they had appeared.

The doors closed and locked, and Hero was now alone with the enemy. The villain was staring down at them, arms crossed and a calculating look in their eyes as if they were trying to figure something out.

Villain was the first to break the silence, "You brought Henchman back."

"So I did."

"...Why?"

Hero went to answer, but a frown returned to their face, the memory of seeing their friends being so casual about hurting someone... It... It just...

"It wasn't right..." - they muttered, the villain barely understanding their words. "They were hurting them... Torturing them..."

"And even though they're your teammates, you still went against them and saved one of my henchmen." - Villain said, a grin taking over their face as they knelt down to the other's level. The hero grew confused as the villain took hold of their chin, locking their eyes.

"I must say, Hero. This was very unexpected but brave of you."

"H-Huh?"

"So, what are you going to do now? Do you have any... evidence of what your little friends did?" - Villain continued as they undid their restraints, letting them stand.

Hero's eyes widened both at the villain's actions and as they realized that they did, in fact, have something, "The security footage..."

"Well, there ya go!" - the villain exclaimed, giving them an oddly reassuring pat on the shoulder. Why were they suddenly being so friendly to the hero? Not to mention they just... uncuffed them like it was nothing!

"Hey, uh... Villain?" - Hero started, uncertainty clear in their voice. They watched as the criminal moved to their desk and sat down. They trailed after them and continued, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but um... why the sudden... friendliness?"

"You saved one of mine and returned them to me. Is it bad that I'm grateful?" - Villain responded, tilting their head to the side and observing the hero curiously. Hero seemed a bit shocked, if not flustered at their reply.

"Ah, well, no- it's not a bad thing! I just- uh-" - Hero attempted a reply, but the villain's chuckle ended their ramble. They stood there unsure of how to proceed and just let the other talk.

"Why don't I repay you, hmm?" - Villain asked with a smirk and a look that made Hero's face hot.

"Uh- Repay me h-how?"

"I'll help you bring your friend's misdeed to light." - they answered, adoring the slight embarrassment the hero couldn't hide. They obviously knew where Hero thought that was going to go; they made them think that on purpose. Villain just couldn't help themself; the hero was always so adorable when they tried to avoid their gaze in that shy manner of theirs.

"O-Oh, right."

Giving Hero an amused look, the villain stood and went for the door, motioning for them to follow. Together, they went to expose the hero's teammates.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few weeks had gone by, and the footage of Hero's teammates torturing Henchman had gone viral online. Millions of people had seen it already and were raising hell, demanding answers from Organization.

The hero had also stepped forward and spoke about it. They thought that this was the right thing to do. They thought that the higher-ups would be pleased with them for bringing such a crime to light. But instead of praise, Hero was met with hostility and threats. They had no choice but to leave behind their heroic work and go into hiding.

As the days went by, they became more and more paranoid, terrified that the organization would find and catch them. Luck, however, seemed to be on their side. A little while after they had gone off the radar, the villain had found them and offered them their help.

Hero was very apprehensive about taking up their offer but nonetheless found themself regularly coming back to Villain's lair. With no job and no friends of any kind, the villain was now, ironically, their only ally.

You'd think that Hero could just find a new job, right? Something normal for a change, but no. That was unfortunately not an option; not only did their teammates know what their face looked like, but so did the rest of the world now. Organization had exposed their face to the globe, and now there was no going back.

They pondered over all of this, questioning what to do. At first, Hero had been living off of whatever scraps they could find, only occasionally coming to Villain for help. But now? They were practically living in their lair, and they hated it. It made them feel like a leech.

Another thing that bothered the hero greatly was that not only did the villain supply them with food and shelter, but they also, at some point, started to take care of their more... emotional needs. Reassuring them, praising them, holding them, it- it was confusing but... welcome...

And it was actually happening right now. The two were currently in Villain's courters, lying on their bed. The villain was on their back, with the hero on top of them, their bodies facing each other. Hero's face burned hotter than the sun as they cuddled, the other's arms wrapped around them, one hand petting their head. How they got into this situation, Hero did not know.

"You know my other offer still stands, right?" - Villain asked softly, breaking them out of their thoughts. The hero snuggled their face deeper into their chest, too embarrassed to look at them before muttering, "I know..."

"Then why not take it? I'd love it if you joined me." - the villain whispered in their ear, making them shiver a bit. Hero had to admit, they have considered the offer quite a few times now. They just... weren't sure if they'd be...

"Would I even be good enough for this...?" - the hero questioned, slightly tilting their head so that they could glance at the other. Villain's hand moved from their head to their chin, lifting it and locking their eyes.

"Oh, of course, you'd be good enough! You'd be even better than that!" - the villain reassured, a gentle look overtaking their features.

"R-Really?" - the hero was still unsure, but they couldn't help but relax under the criminal's gaze and touch.

"Yes, really. After all, you saved my henchman so exceptionally! Sneaking around those heroes and through the city like it was nothing!" - Villain praised, and Hero found themself slowly believing them.

They lay there silently for a moment, Hero battling internally before finally deciding, "A-Alright, I... I'll join you!"

"Marvelous~." - the villain purred, and a new chapter began for both of them.

[stalksbyakuyatogami]

Could I have the V3 boys reacting to their GN!S/O successfully summoning the ghost of their long dead, but benevolent, ancestor to help them out (whether it be in the killing game or with something mandane in a non-despair AU is up to you)? Like, their S/O is finished, for a few seconds nothing happens and they then hear someone yell "WHO SUMMONED ME!?!" followed by them turning around to see a medival looking ghost.

Summoning An Ancestor With V3 Boys!

Let's have it in a killing game because it's low-key fun

fair warning: this might be a long read

Shuichi Saihara

•He thought at first that this was a kinda bad idea, but a good one at the same time. He never agreed to help you, but he's there to join you at least.

•You both quickly turned around. It was both unnerving and exciting that you managed to summon your ancestor.

•You were amazed that finally, you get to have some guidance.

•Shuichi however, was still terrified and his insides were trembling. He thinks that it's best to not quiver in front of such a powerful spirit.

•Shuichi keeps quiet the whole time you asked for advice. And said thank you when you two were leaving and saying farewell to the spirit. His way of acknowledging the spirit because he didn't even interact with it.

Kaito Momota

•You told him that you needed him for something since he told you that he'll help you with anything.

•You knew your boyfriend could never deal with things like ghosts, curses, and such. That's why you told him to come without telling him your agenda.

•So you lead him into the empty rooms on the third floor. He was wondering why there were such strange items on the floor. And he just got more suspicious when you were using them. His heart was now beating rapidly now that he hears you chanting. He wanted to leave so bad, but he wanted to get your permission first, in case it disrupted your ritual.

•He regained his composure when you finished chanting and nothing came out. Thank goodness no one came out. But that relief instantly went away when a booming voice echoed throughout the room, and a transparent body made its way up the ground. He fucking lost it and fainted. Good thing you caught him though.

•You did the negotiation on your own. Your ancestor was intrigued by the limp boy on your hands, and you explained what happened. Ancestor said they won't let their grandchild marry a man like that lmaoooooo.

Kokichi Ouma

•Was totally up for it. You can see the sparkles in his eyes. He even drags you to where you would hold your ritual. He's more excited than you are. It's gonna be his first time performing something like this. And seeing a spirit? So cool!

•While you worked, he asks all kinds of stuff. How you do it, how to use the materials, did you bring him to sacrifice him, even as far as dissing your ancestor. You told him to save the dissing when they actually appear.

•When the spirit did appear, he took time to scan everything about it before deciding to point out its flaws. He was low-key trembling, to be honest. Now it kinda looked like he was just boasting to show that he wasn't afraid that the spirit might curse him.

•He just stood there listening to all your ramblings towards the spirit. He didn't utter a single word, nor did he move an inch. He just had his eye focused on the spirit, assuring that it doesn't do anything suspicious. Good thing he made it until the end.

•As soon as you were finished, he made sure the spirit was gone and rushed back to his room. His farewell might sound jolly, but he's just gonna bury himself in his blanket and have hours of overthinking. Poor Kokichi.

Ryoma Hoshi

•He was actually pretty chill when you told him what you plan to do. He was okay with it. But he didn't really enjoy things like that, so he said he'll pass. But because you begged him to be with you, it can't be helped.

•He just stood there smoking while you arranged and performed everything necessary. Ryoma was a bit weirded put when you started chanting. You could summon a demon with that, you know (which is more or less the goal here).

•His jaw and cigarette both fell as the spirit came looming over you two. He couldn't believe his eyes. He doesn't know whether he'd stay or run. But he froze in place, that's for sure.

•You were conversing with your ancestor about everything. Ryoma thinks it's a good thing that you get guidance from your ancestors, but creepy at the same time. While you were at it, he slowly backed up and you didn't notice him going out of the room.

•You finished your session and went out of the room. Ryoma was nowhere to be seen. He was in his room. He told you that you did well, but the next time you do it, he doubts that he'll ever join you again.

Korekiyo Shuinguuji

•He was actually very very excited when you told him that you were gonna perform some kind of summoning. It was different from a seance, but he was still willing to help you. He didn't say no, and he even asked when you're gonna do it. He couldn't contain his excitement and immediately asked you to lead him to where you'd perform it.

•He helps you in arranging things. He even suggests methods that would make the spirit stay a little longer and summon the correct spirit. There was no one more helpful than Kiyo is. He's an expert in this after all.

•The spirit emerged a bit early than expected. And Kiyo was definitely amazed. He was gazing up your ancestor, admiration glossing his eyes. He's fighting the urge to say his catchphrase, honestly. He has all the thoughts in his mind. •While you were conversing, it looked like he was just standing there, but in reality, he's taking note of everything going on. How the spirit speaks, its mannerisms, and intrusive thoughts like what would happen if he disturbed your ritual. Would the spirit curse you two or something?

•He was muttering to himself by the time you finished. You approached him to ask him what's wrong. He held you by the shoulders and looked straight into your eyes saying that you two should do it again. Hell, he would even help you summon two or more of the spirits. You, of course, were encouraged since you were seeing more of your ancestors.

Rantaro Amami

•He thought you were joking at first and just lightly laughed it off but he stopped doing so when he realized that you were serious. He agreed to your plan or ritual or whatever it is. He guaranteed that he won't be that much of a help, but he's gonna do whatever you ask him to.

•You instructed him to prepare other materials which were simple to prepare. You did the other side of the tasks. He was very careful of handling these things because he thinks he might mess your ritual up.

•The spirit has emerged. It awed Rantaro in every way. How you managed to summon it, who they were, and overall how it came from just chants. Your ancestor noticed him and assumed that he was your boyfriend. The spirit then thought what everyone first thought of Rantaro. He definitely looks like a playboy and they were in doubt. But you reassured them that it was just his looks and not his attitude. Weirdly enough, your ancestor believed you.

•You sought out guidance, just like what you needed to do. Rantaro was just there supporting you, and even guiding you to ask something important about the killing game. Istg he's the most chill guy around. It sure is creepy, but he's also curious.

•By the time you finished, he'd tell you that you did a good job of staying rational and calm the whole session. He'd definitely accompany you the next time you do this again. He isn't terrified? Poggers!

Gonta Gokuhara

•Gonta is very very confused about... pretty much everything. What's ritual? Summoning?! Isn't that a bad thing? What if you summon bad spirit? Would not that be bad? After all of this, you guarantee Gonta that everything is gonna be fine because you pretty much knew how to do it. Gonta trusts you with his whole heart.

•He saw all the tools you had laid out and he inspected every one of them. He made sure not to touch anything though. Istg, he's very very anxious about all these. He asks you how you use all of these. It was actually confusing for him, but he promised to do his best despite not knowing how to do this.

•When the spirit arrived, he was startled to see it that he instinctively grabbed something invisible and threatened to hit the phantom. The phantom was surprised in return. He eventually apologized for startling them.

•While you were talking, he was listening attentively. He'd do anything to stop this killing game after all. He would even casually butt in to ask his own questions. He tried to not ask too much, avoiding making the spirit angry.

•When you two were finished, he even told you that he'd gladly accompany you when you do this kind of thing again. He was fascinated by the fact that you successfully summoned an ancestor. His eyes sparkled tbh.

K1-b0

•Summoning?! Big no! Not because he was afraid of ghosts or something of the sort, he's afraid of the curse it will unleash. But you told him many times that you would know how to handle it. You "would" wasn't enough for him, so you rephrased it. This time with an overflowing amount of assurance. He eventually agreed.

•He is familiar with all the things that you had laid out. He asked you if he was the sacrifice, and if that was the case, he'd never forgive you. You told him that robots can't be sacrificed, so he didn't have to worry. "That's robophobic!". Then what are you supposed to—

•When your ancestor emerged he was a bit terrified. The presence was new to him, and also the form. So he partially hid behind your back, to show fear and respect. He is so going to record this whole thing. It might help any research on paranormal areas, you know.

•He stood there proudly without even budging an inch. It was either out of fear, anxiety, or just plain formality because he doesn't know how to act around these entities. It's his first time facing one, after all. He made sure that as soon as the spirit causes you harm, he'll be there to defend you. Which was sweet of him.

•When you ended, he told you about how mind-blowing and bizarre the experience was. You felt the same as him since it was your first time too. He is a bit weirded out, but he will definitely accompany you again next time.

Please this took so long and i went fucking overboard. Thank you for requesting, anon!

-Mod Toko

[the-desolated-quill]

WandaVision: ‘Subverting’ Good Television - Quill’s Scribbles

(Spoilers for the first five episodes)

Hey everyone! Well... it’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I wrote a proper review or Scribble, people still thought the COVID crisis would be over within a month. The poor saps. But I thought that as a special way to mark this year’s Valentines Day, we could take a closer look at the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s shittiest power couple in their new Disney+ show WandaVision.

The first of many MCU spin-off shows that nobody asked for, broadcast exclusively on Disney’s totally unnecessary streaming platform, WandaVision is about everybody’s favourite whitewashed Nazi experiment and her red sexbot boyfriend as they try to fit into a suburban sitcom neighbourhood without arousing suspicion.

Yes, you read that correctly. The MCU has a sitcom now. My life is now complete.

Sarcasm aside, I was legitimately curious about WandaVision because of its unusual setting. And considering one of my most common criticisms of the MCU is its total lack of creativity, anything that’s even a little bit subversive is bound to attract my attention. Of course ‘subversive’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good.’ I could hand you a canvas smeared with my own shit and call it subversive. That doesn’t necessarily make it good art. And that’s exactly what WandaVision is. A canvas smeared with shit.

So lets split this critical analysis/review/angry bitter rant into two distinct chapters. The first focusing on the plot and setting, and the second focusing on the characters. Okay? Okay.

Chapter 1: Bewitched

Critics seem to be utterly enamoured with the whole sitcom gimmick, and it is a gimmick. As far as I can tell from the episodes I’ve seen, the sitcom setting serves no real purpose whatsoever other than to make the show ‘quirky.’ Which I wouldn’t mind, believe it or not, if the show was actually funny. There’s just one problem. It’s not.

Now in some ways describing why a sitcom doesn’t work is often futile because comedy is largely subjective. What I find funny, you won’t necessarily find funny and vice versa. With WandaVision, however, I won’t have that problem. I can demonstrate to you precisely why WandaVision, objectively, isn’t funny. And it all comes down to one simple thing. The stakes. Or rather the complete and total absence of stakes.

The show makes it very clear from the beginning that none of what we’re seeing is real. The cheesy theme song, the era appropriate special effects (mostly. It’s actually very inconsistent), the joke commercials, and, in the case of the first two episodes, which are in black and white, the appearance of red lights and objects in Scarlet Witch’s general vicinity. (Gee, what a mystery this is).

Basically Wanda has brought Vision back from the dead and created this sitcom world for them to inhabit. I’ll explain the stupidity of this in Chapter 2. The point is none of this is real, and that has a negative effect on the comedy because the very nature of comedy is suffering. Take the plot of the first episode. Wanda and Vision have to prepare a dinner to impress Vision’s boss. If they fail, Vision could lose his job and the couple could be exposed as superheroes. If this were a normal sitcom, it would work. The stakes are clear and it would be satisfying to see the two struggle and overcome the odds. But here, we know it’s not real. If it’s not real, it means there’s no stakes. If there’s no stakes, it means there’s no suffering. If there’s no suffering, there’s no comedy.

It would be one thing if the unfunny sitcom stuff lasted for like the first ten minutes or so before making way for the actual plot, but it doesn’t. Oh no. It doesn’t even last for the first episode. Out of the five episodes I’ve watched, four of them are almost entirely about these unfunny, objectively flawed sitcom homages, each set in a different time period. The fifties, the sixties, and so on. And what’s worse is that nothing that happens in them is plot-relevant. That gets relegated to the last five minutes of an episode. So you’re forced to sit through twenty five minutes of boring slapstick and puns in order to catch even a whiff of actual story. Which begs the question... who is this for exactly? It can’t be entertaining to Marvel fans, who have to slog through all this pointless shit so they can figure out what the fuck is going on. Comedy fans may get a kick out of the sitcom pastiche at first, but after four episodes, surely the joke would wear thin. So why is it in here? Clearly someone in the writer’s room absolutely fell in love with the idea of doing a Marvel sitcom, but nobody put in any time or effort to figure out how it would work in context.

I cannot stress enough how bad the plotting of this series is. As I said, the vast majority of a thirty minute episode is about shitty sitcom plots that aren’t funny and don’t have any impact on the story, only to then tease you with a crumb of actual plot in order to keep you coming back for the next instalment. Admittedly it’s an effective strategy. I was more than ready to quit after Episode 2 until that beekeeper showed up out of the sewer (don’t ask. It’s not important). WandaVision essentially follows the Steven Moffat school of bad writing. String your audience along with the promise that things might get more interesting later on and that all the bullshit that came before will retroactively make sense by the end. Except, as demonstrated with BBC’s Sherlock, that doesn’t work. And even if it did, it wouldn’t justify wasting the audience’s fucking time. And that’s what the majority of WandaVision is. A waste of time.

The only episode that doesn’t follow the sitcom format is the fourth episode. Instead it basically exists to explain all the shit that happened before. The shit that the audience, frankly, are smart enough to figure out for themselves. Wanda created the sitcom world as a way of coping with the loss of Vision, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, we got it. Thanks. It doesn’t advance the plot or anything. It’s just a massive info-dump. But by far the lowest point was when Darcy (by far the most annoying character in the first Thor film and is just as obnoxious here) was sat in front of the TV, watching the sitcom and asking the same questions we were. Not even attempting to look for answers. Just reiterating what the audience is thinking. Like this is an episode of fucking Gogglebox.

In the end it becomes apparent why the series is structured the way that it is. It’s to hoodwink people into subscribing to Disney’s stupid streaming service. If you think about it, there was no reason for WandaVision to be a TV series other than to lure gullible fans in with a piece-meal story buried in a mountain of crap. This isn’t a TV show. It’s what is cynically known in the world of big business executives as ‘content.’ They’re not interested in entertaining the audience. Instead they crave ‘engagement’, which isn’t the same thing. Watching WandaVision is like staring into the void, waiting for something to happen, while Disney charge you for the privilege.

Chapter 2: I Love Lucy

So the plot sucks balls. What about the characters? Surely if Wanda and Vision are likeable at least, it’ll give us something to cling onto.

Well as I was watching the first episode, it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t remember anything that happened to them in previous films. I knew Vision died, but other than that, I couldn’t tell you significant plot details or their personalities or anything. Not a great start.

See, up until now, Vision and Scarlet Witch have been little more than background characters. So already there’s an uphill struggle to get us invested in their relationship, especially considering we haven’t actually seen that relationship develop. In Avengers: Age Of Ultron, Scarlet Witch is killing people because she’s pissed off about Tony Stark killing people (you work that one out) until all of a sudden she stops and joins the good guys because the script said so. Vision meanwhile is introduced as a convenient deus ex machina to beat Ultron and gets no real personality other than he’s a robot. Captain America: Civil War comes the closest to giving Wanda a story and personality of her own as it’s her actions that cause the Sokovia Accords to come into effect, but she never gets any real growth or payoff as the film is heavily focused on Cap and Iron Man’s penis measuring contest. And as for Vision, all he does in the film is accidentally cripple War Machine. No real character or arc there as such. And then we have Avengers: Infinity War, where Wanda and Vision are now sporadically in love and on the run until that pesky Josh Brolin, looking like a CGI cross between Joss Whedon and a grumpy grape, comes along and rips out Vision’s Infinity Stone to power up his golden glove of doom, and the film treats this like a tragic moment, except... it isn’t. Because we haven’t really had the time to properly get to know these characters and see their romance blossom. So instead it just comes off as hollow and forced.

WandaVision has the exact same problem. Apparently Wanda was so distraught about Vision’s death that she broke into a SWORD base, stole his corpse, brought it back from the dead... somehow, and then enslaved an entire town of people to create an idyllic lifestyle for her and her hubby while broadcasting it as a sitcom to the outside world... for some reason. Putting aside the dubious morality of it all, it’s impossible to really sympathise with Wanda or her supposed grief because we’ve barely spent any time with her. Had the Marvel movies taken the time to properly explore the characters and show us their relationship grow and develop, this might have had more emotional resonance. But no, it just happens. In one film they barely speak to each other and in the next they’re a couple. No effort to explore how they feel about each other or any of the problems that may arise trying to date a robot. It just happens and we’re just supposed to care. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t care. You’re going to have to try a little bit harder than that I’m afraid. What’s worse is that, thanks to the whole fake sitcom thing, it’s impossible to really become invested in Wanda and her plight because the show has to constantly keep us at arms length at all times in order to keep up the pretence that this bullshit is somehow mysterious.

Looking through the WandaVision tag, it amuses me how many people say that she’s acting out of character. And yeah, her actions are a bit of a head scratcher. Why would an Eastern European’s ideal life be an American sitcom? Why a sitcom? Why kidnap an entire town? Why keep changing the decade? None of it makes sense, but you’re wrong for thinking that Wanda is behaving out of character for the simple reason that Wanda has never actually had a character. In fact, ironically, Wanda mind controlling an entire town and forcing them to do her bidding is probably the one consistent thing about her as she did this in Age Of Ultron. In interviews, Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany described how they used actors like Elizabeth Montgomery and Dick Van Dyke as influences, which is really funny because they’re straight up admitting they don’t have characters and even now they’re still not playing the characters, instead emulating the work of far better actors.

As I was watching the show, it became abundantly clear that not only do Marvel not have the faintest idea what they wanted to do with these characters, but they also straight up don’t give a shit about these characters. Wanda in particular has had a rough time under the tyrannical regime of the House of Mouse. First they cast Elizabeth Olsen, a white woman, to play a Romani character, then systematically erasing her Jewish roots, even going so far as to put a cross in her bedroom in Civil War, and now the character is being butchered even more by forcing her into an American sitcom housewife role that she apparently willingly chose for herself, which is laughable. I mean say what you like about Magneto in the X-Men films, at least they actually depicted his Jewish culture. At least they recognised his Jewish background was important (though not important enough to cast a Jewish actor apparently). Wanda’s steady cultural erasure over the years is incredibly insidious and judging by Olsen’s comments in interviews, where she called Wanda’s comic book outfit a quote ‘gypsy thing’ unquote, it seems nobody has an ounce of fucking respect for the character or the culture she’s supposed to be representing. (and to all those kissing her arse saying it was a slip of the tongue, she has been repeatedly called out for using the slur in the past, so at this point I’d describe her behaviour as wilful ignorance)

If you want further proof of how much Marvel doesn’t seem to care about Wanda, look no further than her brother Pietro, aka Quicksilver. At the end of Episode 5, Wanda brings Pietro back from the dead, except it’s not Pietro. It’s Peter Maximoff, the Quicksilver from the X-Men films played by Peter Evans, who coincidentally is not Jewish or Romani either. So Quicksilver has the dubious honour of not only being whitewashed three times, but also twice within the same franchise. But should we really be surprised at this point? It’s Marvel after all. The same company that whitewashed the Ancient One in Doctor Yellowface and claimed it wasn’t racist because Tilda Swinton is ‘Celtic’. But now I’m going off topic. My point is that this isn’t a simple case of recasting an actor like Mark Ruffalo replacing Edward Norton as the Hulk. WandaVision actually acknowledges the recast in-universe, which makes no sense. Why would Wanda bring back her brother, only to make him look like a different person? We the audience may be familiar with this version of Quicksilver, but she isn’t. That would be like me bringing my Grandad back to life and making him look like Ian McKellen. He’d be perfectly charming, I’m sure, but he wouldn’t be my Grandad. 

If Marvel really cared about the characters or narrative consistency, they would have brought Aaron Taylor Johnson back. Instead, now they have absorbed 20th Century Fox into the hellish Disney abyss, they use X-Men’s Quicksilver as a means to keep viewers from switching off and so that people will write stupid articles and think pieces about whether the rest of the X-Men will show up in the MCU. It’s like dangling your keys in front of a toddler’s face to distract them from the rotting corpse of a raccoon lying face down in the corner of the room.

And it’s here where I decided to stop watching the show because fuck Disney.

Epilogue: One Foot In The Grave

You know, I am sick and tired of the so called ‘professional’ critics bending over backwards to praise these god awful films and shows when it’s so clear to anyone with a functioning brain cell how bad they truly are. WandaVision is without a doubt one of the most cynically produced and poorly structured TV shows I’ve ever seen. Its riffs on classic sitcoms are pointless and self-indulgent, the writing is terrible, the characters are unlikable and unsympathetic, and it’s entirely emblematic of what the entire MCU has become of late. And it’s only going to get worse as Disney drowns us with more ‘content’ to keep the plebs ‘engaged’. In short; pathetic.

[dragon-of-dreams]

Puzzling

My Masterlist

Part 5 to Cracking a Code

1;  2;  3;  4

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching, caregiving, but like by Steve, so not really, self-harm references (previous chapter, not premeditated), discussion of eating

Summary: Steve takes you home to “take care” of you.

A/n: I’m not super happy with this chapter… and maybe I’ll redo it sometime in the future, but I just wanted to give you an update. Sorry, that everything takes so long!

Word count: 2,300

The rest of the drive passed in a blur. Steve’s hand hardly left your thigh and you let him. You were so exhausted, you didn’t have the energy to fight him off anymore. You felt yourself retreating into your body, away from the reality of being groped in the fancy sports car of America’s bravest hero.

Steve helped you up the steps to your apartment. You’re entire body was shaking, leaving you on unsteady feet. If you didn’t know better you’d say you were coming down with a fever. But the reason for the shivers coursing through you was so much larger. Not something a few pills could fix. Steve gently led you into your home, almost as if he owned the place, deposited you on the couch, and covered you in a blanket. As he tucked you in, his hands respectful and his touch kind you surfaced for a brief second out of the hole of despair his comment in the car had put you in.

“There you are, angel.” Steve smiled as he noticed how your eyes started to focus a bit. “I’ll make you something to eat. I’ll be right back.” With that, he leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, before retreating to your kitchen. You watched him rummage around in the tiny space adjoining your living room. He looked at ease, at home, and oh so loving. Did yesterday really happen? you wondered. There they were again. Those thoughts you had to brandish all day yesterday as well. You started to stare off into the middle distance; once more slipping away from reality and the physical pain left in your body. You heard Steve tut slightly, the fridge door opening and closing, then the same sound from a bunch of your cabinet doors. Just as you wanted to call out to him, to ask if he needed help, a robotic response drilled into you by your mother, Steve appeared before you almost as if out of thin air. His gait as silent as any other predator’s.

“Darling,” he sounded concerned, “did you eat yet?”

You looked up at him, doe-eyed. “I.. uh… I must have. I have some overnight oats in the fridge, so if there are only three glasses in there, then yeah.” To be honest you couldn’t remember, nothing made sense.

“There’s four, darling… You really gotta eat breakfast! It’s important to keep your strength up, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah… I usually do. I promise” Why do I not wanna make him sad? Why do I want him to be proud of me? You thought bewildered, as you looked into Steve’s worried eyes before all semblance of structured thought left you again to the tide of confusion washing over you and pulling you under.

“Ok, babe, I trust you. I’ll make some now, okay? You just sit tight.” All you could do was nod. It was like it was all happening to someone else. You weren’t really here. You were so far away and so present at the same time that it hurt.

As Steve left you your mind went to war with itself.

Steve wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t the hero on those posters, was he? But he was making you breakfast, he tucked you in. He sent Bucky to check on you. No… No, he sent Bucky to make sure you didn’t go to the police. Right? Right.

You could feel your mind shut off, drawing you down with it. All that happened, Steve’s non-linear behavior pushing you over the edge. Nothing made sense.

You barely noticed as Steve fed you breakfast, bite by bite, all that registered somewhere deep within you was his calm, deep guiding voice: “One more bite, there you go, good girl” all his encouragement mushing together in your brain, a soothing sensation flowing through your pain-addled brain.

After breakfast, you could feel Steve manipulate your body, as he wrapped himself around you and put on your favorite movie. As you lay there engulfed in the arms of this giant man, accompanied by the sounds of the movie you had watched a million times, you slowly started to become aware of yourself again. The body heat was so soothing and Steve’s deep humming voice pushed the fear that had kept you paralyzed further and further away. Making way for a seething rage, fickle but growing. As you tensed and readjusted your limbs Steve leaned forwards and kissed your temple. “I knew you were still in there, angel. I made some tea. It should still be hot. I put it in a thermos. Let’s talk okay?” Steve carefully helped you sit, every touch his, stoking the anger burning through you. Then, oblivious to the shift in your mood, he got up to grab the tea and cups as you looked around as if you were seeing your place for the first time. It no longer held the feeling of safety that comes with any good home. All you could see was Steve controlling you, in the TV that was slightly turned, the smell of his cologne on your couch, the dirty pans in the sink.

When Steve came back, your head was much clearer and you carefully reached for your cup and made sure to keep your distance from Steve as subtly as you could. Whatever was to come, was going to be important.

“You know darling, you will have to be nicer to Bucky. He’s only trying to help when I can’t be there. New York is dangerous, always has been. No one knows that better than me and Buck. He texted me, saying you were really rude on the train this morning, and quite frankly, darling, I’m disappointed that I even have to say this, but you have to appreciate what we do for you, okay?” Steve’s voice is calm, collected, and rational. There is nothing but honest concern in it for a moment it disrupts the anger building within you. “It’s time to play nice with Bucky now, okay? Be nice to him, maybe even as nice as you have been for me, understand?”

It’s the last sentence that sets you off, Steve’s expectant gaze, belittling you, that makes you blow your lid.

“What? What are you talking about? Play nice? I wasn’t being nice to you! I don’t want your protection or your attention, or Bucky’s for that matter!” Your voice is rising, as you grip your cup of tea so tight its heat sears your palms. “Get out of my life!” you yell. Then like a bucket of cold water realization sets in. Every muscle in Steve’s body tightens, you see his body expand with the change, looming over you, blacking out the window. You expect Steve to yell, beat you up, but when you dare to look up at his face, it is almost passive, but there is danger burning beneath his façade.

“I understand this is difficult for you.” Steve’s voice turns harder with every word. You notice the missing pet name like a slap to your face. “But I am getting pretty tired of this conversation. You need to rain in that attitude of yours, okay? Because I won’t tolerate you being a spoiled brat who doesn’t see what’s best for them. I’m looking out for you here, taking care of you, something you apparently struggle with,” with that Steve gestures at the remnants of your breakfast, the one he had to make for you, “and all I expect in return is some gratitude, towards me and towards Bucky. This is not up for discussion. And if you can’t behave, you’ll have to deal with the consequences, young lady. Is that understood?” By the end of his speech, Steve has risen to his feet, towering over you, his voice booming to fill your apartment, while you cower into the sofa. Your breathing is shallow and you are petrified. It feels too much like last night. When you didn’t have a choice either. And everything he was saying was making sense. New York was dangerous. And you really were terrible at feeding yourself correctly… Those oat thingies were just the newest thing you were trying in your never-ending quest to live more healthily… Usually, your job took preference over clean living. And Bucky hadn’t done anything to you either. He’d just been there to watch out for you… Steve, well… Steve really had done that, but he also held you today, when your brain shut down and made you food. He could have just left you at work, where you surely would’ve gotten nothing done or even caused trouble if you fucked up your work…

Shakily you nod and watch some of the tension leave Steve’s body and he crouches down in front of you. “Good, I knew you were smart like that. Now we can either go have a bath and soothe your body or you can freak out again and then I swear I’ll make you bear the consequences of your behavior for real this time. So what’s it gonna be, princess?”

You stare at him for a second. How is he so rational? Why does this all make sense? Authority has always been your weakness, and so you just nod because what the Captain says goes, and you learned that the hard way, and let Steve lead you to the bathroom. Maybe you will get to lay in his arms again and hear him praise you. It felt so good when he held you on the couch. You were safe in his arms. All you want is to be back in his embrace. Where the harsh reality can’t hurt you. So you allow Steve to strip you down, as hot water pours into your tub.

Suddenly Steve’s grip on your hip tightens painfully, as yanks your jeans off of you. You look down, scared, and find him staring at the bruises you must have caused yourself in the shower this morning when you were trying to wash the night away. “What is this? Explain, now!” he seethes and turns his scorching gaze towards you.

“I, when I showered, I, I just wanted to get clean…” you stammer.

“Clean? Clean! You hurt yourself! Jeez! How dare you do something like that to yourself? I really can’t let you out of my sight for one second, can I? Gotta watch you like a little kid!”

You feel a pang in your heart. You weren’t trying to be bad! You want to tell Steve, but he just turns off the water, grabs your upper arm, and drags you from the bathroom into your bedroom. As you stumble after him, you try to figure out what is happening.

“Steve?” you plead as he sits down on the bed and puts you over his lap.

“No, darling, not anymore. I have been way too kind to you so far, but apparently, the nice approach doesn’t work with you. So discipline is what you get.” He thunders, and then his hand is hitting your bum with enough force to make you scream. It happened so fast that your head is spinning.

As you lie across his lap everything felt like it’s wrapped in cotton. So much skin-to-skin contact fries your over-worked and touch-starved brain into submission as Steve’s hand is raining down on your ass, painting it crimson. You burst into tears without any control over yourself. “Steve,” you sob, “Steve please, I didn’t mean to, I swear, Steve!” and just as those words leave your mouth, he stops, picks you up, and hugs you close. Your nerve endings sing at the close contact and you sag into him, all tension leaving your body. His hands draw soothing circles on your back as he holds you tight.

“I got you baby.” Steve whispers as he settles you on the bed, “I know that hurt, but I needed you to see, you know?”

You cry and nod, burrowing into his hulking form hovering over you.

“I’ll make it better baby, I’ll make it all good, now,” Steve murmurs, as he leans in to kiss your forehead, while his right hand comes down and starts to play with your clit. “Oh darling, look at you! You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Only then do you register the slick coating your thighs, embarrassed you want to turn from him, but Steve cages you in. “It’s okay babe, no reason to be shy about it. There is nothing wrong with wanting your man. Really, it just shows that you understand my discipline with you. I’m real proud of you, angel, real proud.” He mutters as he spreads your lips and slips two fingers in. You can’t help but moan and arch into him.

Steve is nothing but kind and soft with you as he readjusts both of your bodies until he sinks into your heat, and you both moan in unison. “There we go, darling. See how good I can be for you? There we go.” As he starts moving, slow and deep within you peace settles over you. “I’ll make you forget all that pain, babe, it’ll all be gone in just a minute now.” His fingers are rubbing circles around your clit while he keeps murmuring sweet encouragements into your ears as you climb and climb towards an orgasm that is so deep that it leaves you boneless in Steve’s arms until he finishes with a broken grunt deep inside of you. As Steve settles you in his arms after you can’t remember the last time you felt this sated, as you drift into a deep sleep with Steve’s spend slowly trickling out of you. For a split second, before you fall asleep the horror of what is happening to you is clear in your mind, but then, thankfully, once more your exhaustion pulls you under.

[eyndr-stories]

Chester and the Jesters (FNAF SB fanfic) C4 - Electricity by any other name

In Summary:

The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??

Things To Know (always read responsibly!):

Biggest warnings are for blood, death, knives, murder, the police, violence, also the OC is at one point hit by lightning. All fun stuff

About 70,000 words in total, 9 chapters, so roughly like. 7,500 words per chapter

This is an OC story, not a reader insert or a self insert! But if you want to imagine otherwise be my guest lol

Angst, fluff

OC x Sun & Moon, there's romance but zero spice

Occasional swearing

Heavy focus on Sun and Moon but most of the rest of the gang is there too :)

Afton doesn't exist, sorry peepaw, Vanessa is here but she's very chill. She's a kickass gamer girl lmao

Moon does an attempted murder but its fine. He's just a lil guy ok

OC uses they/them and also sign language most of the time

Impersonation, lying. There's also manipulation. Yall I wasn't kidding about the angst

There's also a lot of focus on how they're all robots, very cool robots with feelings lol

That's all I can think of, as always please lmk if I should add anything!

Ao3 Link: Right here!

Start reading here: Chapter 1

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

C4 - Electricity by any other name

     Chester woke up in a comfort they didn't recall falling asleep in. As they sat up and rubbed the sleep from their eyes under their glasses, they realized that at some point someone had placed a pillow under their head and a soft blanket over them. It must have been Sun, seeing as no one else knew Chester was up in the room behind the balcony.

     Chester could hear kids screaming and laughing from beyond the curtain. The daycare, and by extension the rest of the building, must be open. Chester didn't have any clue what time it was. There wasn't a clock in the room, and they'd plugged their faz-phone in to charge in the employee stock room when they'd clocked out last night. Their head still hurt, and they felt really groggy and just… bad. Plain bad. They wanted to go back to sleep, but they weren't tired enough, despite the grogginess that refused to fade from their brain.

     With nothing else to do, Chester started cleaning the room. Without leaving, they couldn't do much besides organize things and pile all the trash in the corner. Chester put all the parts and bits for the staff bot in its own pile. They put all the undamaged daycare supplies in a neat pile near the door. Once everything was as neat as it was going to get, Chester brushed the dust off on their pants and looked around for something else to do.

     Hunger gnawed at Chester's stomach. They were thirsty, too. There wasn't much to be done about it for the time being, so Chester sought distractions instead. Their eyes landed on the pile of staff bot parts. They did still have their tool belt with them.

     Without a guide of any sort or any real understanding of what they were doing, Chester found the task of rebuilding the entirely dismantled staff bot to be more than a little difficult. Still, there was nothing else to do, so they got as comfortable as they could and did their best to puzzle it out. They were slow and methodical, ruling out what pieces couldn't go together first, doing trial and error with pieces they thought were likely to go together. Half of the bits were damaged beyond hope, most of them unfortunately being things like joints and connectors. It almost looked like the bot had been ripped apart joint by joint. Still, Chester did what they could with what they had. They tried to picture the staff bots they'd seen in their mind and recall what they could from what they'd read.

     It was extremely slow going, but it was going. Without the pressure of the consequence of failure, Chester found that they were actually starting to have fun. Building a robot was cool enough on its own, but this one proved to be particularly interesting. There wasn't much Chester could do about the damaged wiring, but they weren't trying to get the thing to turn on. They just wanted to pass the time putting it back together.

     The frame of it was light, but there were loads of small support beams to connect along the frame. The hands were simplistic, just a handful of joints to bolt together. There were small pressure sensors meant to fit into the palms. Chester had seen bigger, more complicated sensors in the diagrams of the main animatronics. The others had sensors all along their fingers as well, not just in the palm, and a few throughout the rest of their frame as well. The sensors told the animatronic when something was touching them, as well as how much pressure was being applied.

     They'd actually become so absorbed in their reconstruction of the staff bot that they didn't realize Sun had come into the room until he spoke up, startling them.

     "Hello new Chester! Oops, sorry for startling you. I'm just here for a recharge!" Sun strode across the room, opening a panel in the wall near the electrical box. He pulled a long cord from inside, then popped open one of the circular buttons in his chest, revealing the charging port underneath. He plugged the cord into the connecting port and plopped down to the floor, sitting cross legged and leaning back against the wall. The light of his eyes dimmed and he hummed a slow little tune.

     "Thank you for the pillow and blanket," Chester signed slowly, unsure if Sun would still be active if he was in the middle of charging.

     "Nooo problem friiiend~" Sun drawled. He slowly lifted his hand, staring at it for a moment before it curled into a thumbs up. "I see youuu cleaned up in here! Clean up, clean up…" Sun mumbled a little song, quickly trailing off.

     "I did, I hope that's okay." Chester glanced around at their work. The room was still dusty, and there was still that pile of trash in the corner, but it was looking a lot better than before.

     "Sureee. I don't mind!" Sun hummed a continuous note for a few seconds. "Sorryyy if I'm a little sloooooow. Everything is running onnnnn power saving mooode while I charge. Can't turn off completelyyy orrrrr my fansss will stooooop running and I'lllllll overrrheat. So for nooooow I'm a littleee slooooooow."

     "That's alright." Chester realized they couldn't hear the sound of kids playing anymore. "Is the building closed for the night?"

     "Yeeep! All locked up niiice and tight abouuut… fiiiiive minutes agooo." Sun resumed his quiet humming.

     "In that case, I'll give you some privacy. My shift starts soon." Chester got to their feet. They changed out of their Hawaiian shirt, swapping it for their work uniform. Nametag in place and their employee profile form secure in their pocket, Chester straightened their hat and made for the door, grabbing their shoes on the way. They paused in the doorway, glancing back at Sun.

     Sun barely seemed to notice them. He hummed quietly, but was otherwise still and silent.

     "…Thank you for letting me stay here. I'll be back again at the end of my shift," Chester said.

     "Youuu betcha," Sun said.

     Chester left the room, descending the spiral staircase and making their way out of the daycare.

     It was another busy night for Chester, though thankfully far less perilous than last night. They picked through small restaurants in the food court and did their best not to outright chug a large cup of water. Besides their list of tasks to work through, Chester had a few other matters to attend to. Firstly, they wanted to print copies of some of the technical books so they'd have something productive to read during their off hours. Second, they were in desperate need of things like a change of socks, a toothbrush, maybe a comb.

     Another visit to lost and found later, Chester was one cheap duffel bag richer. The bag was covered in funky designs and fun colors and, most importantly, could hold the stuff that Chester needed to find. Now that they had a reliable and (mostly) private place to stay, they could store a few things they needed there. And if they, for whatever reason, needed to make a quick getaway, they could just grab their new duffel bag and go.

     Chester faced down a gift shop. They stood in the entrance, duffle bag slung over their shoulder. They picked at one of the bag's straps, eyes trailing over shadowed shelves of overpriced merchandise. There wasn't a security guard to watch the cameras. Chester reminded themself that stealing from a large corporation like this wasn't the end of the world. They'd certainly stolen worse for less before.

     Chester took a deep breath and stepped inside. They passed racks of sweatshirts and hats and graphic t-shirts all sporting different familiar characters in bold colors. They looked over shelves of plushies and a rotating stand packed with keychains and magnets. They breathed a sigh of relief when they spotted a small selection of socks with funky colorful prints. They grabbed a pack, stowing them away in their duffle bag. In a pack with a compact mirror and a small collection of face paint was a comb and a pair of hair scrunchies. Chester took the pack, mainly interested in the mirror and the comb. They lucked out with a toothbrush, finding a little collection of small kid toothbrushes near the back of the gift shop. Monty's likeliness was depicted on the package, flashing his pearly white gator grin.

     They didn't need the notebook, its cover a simple depiction of the Fazbear logo and boasting the inclusion of a free pen and sticker sheet inside. But Chester had frequently wished they'd been able to take notes while they read and while they worked as well, just so they could jot down things they'd figured out on the job or questions they wanted to find the answers to. And besides, they were already stealing several things, what was one more item?

     Chester picked up the notebook, but paused before they could put it in their duffel bag. They stared down at it. It looked wrong in their hand.

     I don't need this, Chester thought. They set the notebook back in its place. They were stealing enough already, and they really couldn't justify taking the notebook.

     Leaving the gift shop behind, Chester zipped up their duffel bag and headed to their first task. The bag was just heavy enough that they couldn't easily forget it was there.

     On their way back to the daycare, Chester stopped by a bathroom to clean up and put their new toothbrush to good use. Their gums bled a little, but they were relieved to finally be able to clean their teeth. They broke a tooth of their comb getting their hair under control. It had started to become matted under their hat. They briefly entertained the idea of using the face paint just for fun, but quickly put it out of mind. They grabbed a fresh bandage for their head as well as some cleaning supplies, then returned to the daycare. This time, they remembered to take their shoes off upon entering the daycare.

     Sun greeted Chester as they stepped past the double doors. Chester pulled their duffle bag over their shoulder in a small attempt to hide it behind them.

     "New Chester!! How was your shift?" Sun asked.

     "It went alright, actually. Did you… have a good… charge?" Chester hoped that wasn't weird to ask.

     Sun laughed, though not unkindly. "I did! We're all topped off and ready for another fun day tomorrow!" Sun did a fun little twirl.

     Chester wasn't sure what to say next. They usually didn't do well with conversations, but they were especially awkward since they were sort of imposing on Sun. They were, more or less, blackmailing him into letting them take over his room. A shot of guilt ran through them.

     I'm a horrible person.

     Sun spoke up, interrupting Chester's train of thought before it could get too far away from them. "So I've been thinking… since you're going to be staying here for… a while. I thought we should probably be friends! So that way it's not weird or awkward! We can just be friends hanging out together. Won't that be fun??"

     "I don't think you want to be friends with me," Chester signed slowly, not meeting Sun's gaze.

     "Why wouldn't I??" Sun tilted his head to the side.

     Because I'm a bad person. "I'm not a very fun friend," Chester signed.

     "Well I'm plenty fun!! I can be fun enough for the both of us," Sun assured. "Why don't we play a game together?"

     "A game?" Chester paused. "What kind of game?"

     Sun, spurred on by the not outright rejection of the idea, started to ramble excitedly and bounce from foot to foot. "Any kind of game you like!! We've got board games or imaginary games or active games- or we could do something else! We could do arts and crafts, or we could have a sleepover, or we could do a puppet show!"

     Chester took a moment to reply, somewhat enamored by how smoothly Sun was bouncing from foot to foot. They wanted to try and give Sun's animatronic guide book another shot, see if they couldn't figure anything out from its pages. "I guess I wouldn't mind a board game."

     Sun cheered extatically. "Fantastic!! Great choice! That sounds like so much fun, friend!"

     At Sun's further prompting, Chester chose a game from a bookshelf packed full of game boxes at random. They dropped their duffle bag and shoes off upstairs while Sun set up a game called 'Sorry'.

     Chester had never played before, so they picked up the instruction booklet and started to read.

     "I could explain the rules, if you like!" Sun offered.

     "Oh, you don't have to do that," Chester signed quickly.

     "What if I want to?"

     Chester studied Sun, unable to glean much from his relentless grin. "I suppose that would be alright then, if you really didn't mind."

     "I don't mind at all!" Sun assured, then launched into an enthusiastic explanation of the rules. He told Chester how the little pawns worked, and how they traveled clockwise around the board, unless a card said otherwise. There were little 'slides' on the board that Sun was especially excited about. He told Chester about how sometimes you could send another player's pawn all the way back to their starting area, making them start over on their trek to maneuver the pawns all the way around the board and into an area called 'home'.

     With the rules out of the way, they were ready to play. Sun got unlucky with the cards and wasn't able to get his first pawn out of the starting area for a few turns, giving Chester a bit of a head start. They started to get the hang of things fairly quickly. The only problem was that their hands would sometimes miss slightly when they went to grab a card or a pawn. They did their best not to be too obvious about it.

     Chester's attention moved to Sun's hands as they moved over the board, drawing cards with easy precision and maneuvering pawns across tiles. When they weren't busy with the game, they were busy tapping at the edge of the table or fiddling with the ribbons tied around their wrists. Chester couldn't imagine how many tiny parts and pieces went into just Sun's hand. Every motion was entirely smooth and seamless. Even the glamrocks weren’t as finely crafted as all that. Sun's casing was different as well, not metal like the glamrocks but a more flexible, almost plastic material. Chester wondered if that was part of how he was able to move so quickly and fluidly.

     Sun lifted a hand to study it himself. "I don't have something stuck to my hand, do I??"

     Chester startled, realizing they'd been staring. Embarrassed, they hurried to explain themself. "You don't, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just very interesting."

     "Interesting??" Sun looked down at his hands. "How do you mean, friend?"

     "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologize," Chester signed in quick motions.

     "I'm not uncomfortable! I'm just curious," Sun assured.

     Chester considered how to explain their fascination. They signed slowly, piecing together their attempt at the right words as they went. "Robots in general are very fascinating to me. You in particular are interesting for a lot of reasons. Your design is very complex and clearly highly advanced. Your range of motion not only matches but outpaces a human's. I could study just your hand alone for hours and not get bored."

     Sun stared at Chester, then looked back down at his hand. "Really?" Sun flexed his fingers experimentally. "No one has ever been so interested in my hand before. One of the other techs once complained for hours and hours about all the little connectors when one of the kids accidentally got glue in the joints and the tech had to clean out all the connectors."

     "I couldn't imagine complaining, had I been in their shoes. I'd have counted myself lucky." Chester very much wanted to open up Sun's hand and see all the little joints and connectors for themself, puzzle out how they all fit together and worked to make Sun's hands move as they did. They didn't voice this to Sun of course, fearing they'd make him uncomfortable.

     "That's kind of you to say! I think!" Sun waggled his fingers at Chester before setting his hands in his lap. "I do believe it's your turn, friend!"

     "Right. Sorry." Chester focused back on the board. They kept their attention on the game, trying not to think about how they were playing a board game with an animatronic. More than that, they were sitting in a daycare, where they currently lived surreptitiously in the walls, because they were hiding out from the police. Not only that, but the animatronic sitting in front of them, as well as the others lurking the halls, were apparently a piece of paper away from manslaughter.

     On that note, Chester realized something. They had yet to have to show Sun their employee profile form. "Hey… you don't seem to mind the fact that I don't have an employee profile in the system. Why is that?"

     Sun tapped his pawn across its remaining two board tiles, ending his turn. He angled his faceplate up towards Chester. "I did notice, that first day we met! But employee profiles go missing all the time, and your nametag barcode is valid! Even if it is a hand me down." The light in Sun's left eye went dim for a moment before lighting back up, simulating a wink.

     Chester picked at the card in their hand. They absently moved one of their pawns forward a few spaces and set their card in the discard pile. "So then… what is it about security mode?"

     "What about security mode?" Sun tilted his head curiously.

     Chester elaborated, mostly just walking through their own thoughts. "The other animatronics don't seem to mind either, during the day. They probably run through the same things you just did and decide it's not a concern. But at night, when they're in security mode, they get caught up on the missing file. So what is it about being in security mode that makes them unable to come to the same conclusions?"

     Sun tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. Well, none of us are really meant to serve as security personnel, so the software we run in security mode is a little restrictive, from my understanding. Any unauthorized person in the building is a security risk. Not that you aren't authorized! Just that you would appear unauthorized without an employee profile. Since you have a valid barcode, I imagine that the two send conflicting messages. And since security mode is so limited, the others probably just get confused as to what to do!"

     'Confused' was one way to put it. "Okay… but what about you?"

     "Me?" Sun pointed a finger to himself.

     "You don't seem… confused," Chester explained.

     "Oh, that's probably because I'm not in security mode! I don't ever leave the daycare, so I don't have the software for security mode," Sun said. "My focus is always on the kids!"

     "Really?? What happens if you see an intruder or something?" Chester asked.

     "…" Sun froze, his fingers pressed flat over the surface of the table. "…I don't need to worry about things like that!"

     "Okay." Chester was still confused, but they had a different question to ask. "Why don't you ever leave the daycare?"

     "Why would I ever want to leave?? This is the best and most fun place in the whole world! Everything I know is here, and I don't ever need to leave!" Sun laughed.

     "Are you allowed to leave?"

     "If I'm going to parts and service," Sun answered, sounding a little strained.

     "Are you scared to leave?" Chester asked.

     "Scared?" Sun tiled his head once more in confusion. He considered the question, fingers tapping away on the table. "What is it like to be scared?"

     Chester was a little surprised at the question. They thought about how it felt to be afraid. "For me, it's like lightning in my belly. My brain goes really fast, and it gets hard to breathe. It makes it hard to do certain things. It's difficult to focus on anything besides getting out of danger, whatever the danger may be. It's… particularly unpleasant distress over the possibility of an unfavorable outcome."

     Sun nodded slowly. "Yes. I am scared to leave the daycare." He focused on Chester. There was a faint tinge of static in his voice. "I think I'm scared very often."

     Chester wasn't sure what to make of that. They signed, "me too."

     "You don't ever seem scared," Sun remarked.

     "I've been told I'm remarkably unexpressive," Chester said.

     Sun hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not good at expressions, either!" He tapped at his cheeks, where his grin came to a point on either side of his face. "The kids don't seem to mind. Some of the adults don't like my smile, but I think they'd like it even less if I was frowning all the time!"

     "I like your face," Chester signed, not really considering what they were saying until after it had been said. Their embarrassment didn't have a chance to grow before Sun replied.

     "Thank you, friend!! I like your face too!" Sun swayed happily, his faceplate doing a little spin.

     Chester laughed quietly. "Thank you."

     The rest of the game passed without issue. Sun ended up winning, because Chester refused to make any ‘mean’ moves, even to their own detriment. They felt too bad about knocking Sun’s pawns back to the start, and wound up drawing a lot of progress reversal cards. They didn’t much mind having lost, though. They still had fun.

     “It’s about time for me to start getting things ready! The daycare will be open soon!” Sun hummed happily as he packed the game away.

     “I should get some sleep anyways. Thank you for the game, Sun.”

     “Of course!! We can play again the next night too if you want!” Sun offered.

     “Yeah, okay. My shift is really short tomorrow night, I have a day shift the following day. So we should have plenty of time for a game or two,” Chester signed.

     Sun seemed absolutely ecstatic about that. He was quite literally jumping for joy, waving his hands around merrily. “I can’t WAIT!! Sleep well, okay?? I’ll see you soon friend!”

     Chester gave Sun a little salute before heading up the spiral steps. The little voice in their head wondered if Sun was faking it, or if he actually did enjoy spending time with Chester. Chester couldn’t imagine why Sun would like them, given the situation and their general personality. Maybe he was simply making the best of things and was happy enough that Chester didn’t mind playing along.

     Chester put it out of mind for now. They laid back with their pillow and blanket, next to their duffle bag full of stolen goods, and did their best to sleep.

~~~

     Payday came the day after, on their day shift. Rosa was waiting for them in the employee stock room with a check in hand.

     "Do you need any help setting up direct deposit?" Rosa asked.

     "Checks are fine," Chester stated.

     Rosa shrugged and chugged some coffee from a thermos, then hurried off.

     Chester stared down at the check. It hadn't even occurred to them that they'd be getting paid, since the whole thing was just a big ruse. Chester wasn't sure how to feel about the money. They had worked for it, sure. But the job they were working wasn't really theirs. They were an impersonator, an imposter. They'd gotten the job through deceitful means and were lying about their identity, they were only here to hide out from the authorities. However, Chester reasoned that they weren't exactly a stranger to making dirty money. The money wasn't even all that dirty; sure, Chester was living a lie, but the work they were doing was honest. Well, in a sense, anyways. Chester pocketed the check, grabbed their faz-phone from its charger, and punched in for the day.

     Finding an ATM machine in the building that offered the option to cash the check was difficult, but there were plenty of ATMs to inspect. With a pocket full of paper bills and their morals wrangled into submission, Chester was absolutely ecstatic, their mind racing with all the food they could buy. Not only would they not have to steal food anymore, but they could buy it hot and fresh, and they could eat as much as they could buy.

     On their break, Chester struggled not to weep over their burger and onion rings. They hadn't had a proper meal in so long, they didn't care that it was just bland mall food. To them it was the most wonderful thing they'd ever eaten.

     Chester was too busy enjoying their food in the breakroom's back corner to notice at first that someone was actually talking to them.

     "Helloo?? Error, Chester not found!"

     Chester finally looked up. At the foldout table next to theirs sat a small group of staff members, most of them new faces. The one who'd spoken was a technician, their nametag reading 'Katherine'. They had a choppy buzzcut and a strong jaw. They were smiling at Chester in a way that didn't seem particularly friendly. The others around them were doing a poor job of concealing their laughter.

     All at once, Chester was brought back to their school years. They resisted the urge to roll their eyes and brushed their hands off before signing. "Sorry. Did you need something?"

     "I was asking why you always sit alone on your break and stare blankly at everything. You some sort of weirdo?" Katherine asked. "Why don't you ever talk to anyone?"

     Chester wasn't sure how they were meant to reply to that. They felt that Katherine was trying to poke fun at them, but they couldn't be bothered to care very much. Their coworker being a little mean to them was the absolute least of their worries.

     "Uh oh, they must not have a pre-programmed response to that." Katherine looked at their friend group with a smile. "They must get along really well with the robots. That's probably why they came to work here."

     "Kat, would you shut the fuck up?"

     Everyone turned as another technician stood. She'd been sitting quietly in the opposite corner, and now stood to glower at Katherine. Her name tag read 'Vanessa'.

     "Don't be jealous because Chester does a better job than you," Vanessa said. She walked passed Katherine's table and sat herself down at Chester's table.

     Katherine scoffed. "As if!"

     Vanessa turned to face Chester, ignoring Katherine as she loudly stated, "Don't let Kat bother you. They're a dick but they don't really mean any harm."

     Katherine scowled and swiveled in their chair to face away from Vanessa and Chester.

     "It's fine, I wasn't bothered," Chester signed.

     "My sign is a little rusty, so forgive me if I don't make you suffer through my attempts to sign back," Vanessa said with a smile.

     "It's no trouble, I can hear alright," Chester assured. They still had that damn constant ringing in their ears, but they could still hear. The ringing was even ignorable, at times.

     "Great! I've decided that we're friends. My name is Vanessa, I can see ghosts and I'm damn good at my job." Vanessa smiled and offered a hand out for Chester to shake.

     Chester shook it, studying Vanessa curiously. She had long blonde hair under her hat, pulled back in a ponytail, leaving a pair of dangly bunny shaped earrings on display. Her eyes were big and bright and peered sharply at Chester down a long nose.

     "Are there any ghosts around right now?" Chester asked.

     Vanessa shook her head. "Nah, most of em don't like the crowds so they stay in the access tunnels during the day. Did you know that this place used to be a diner? The pizza plex as we know it was built on top of the old diner years after the place closed down. They still had animatronics at the diner but they just stayed on the stage and played songs for patrons. Then they started trying to upgrade the animatronics and make them more personable for the crowds and accidentally gave them low level sentience. The animatronics went batshit and killed some people and that's why the old diner shut down."

     Chester spent a moment reeling from this information. "I guess the ghosts informed you of that?"

     "Yep." Vanessa took one of Chester's few remaining onion rings and ate it. "They rebranded everything, spent a lot of hush money, and opened this place up. Pretty wild, huh?"

     "If it's true, yes."

     Vanessa winked at Chester. "So, you liking the job? Gonna stick around a while?"

     "I think so." Chester nodded. They ate the rest of their food quickly so Vanessa wouldn't steal any more. "How long have you been here?"

     "About a year. It's a pretty fun gig, all things considered. It sucks that people come and go so quickly, though. I've been in need of a new buddy to bother since Brandi left," Vanessa said.

     "Oh, Brandi quit?? I was wondering, I hadn't seen her in a while."

     "Yeah, moved on to bigger and better things. I think a lot of the rumors around here got to her." Vanessa shrugged. "You don't mind the rumors, right?? A lot of them aren't true. No one's ever been killed in the new building. That night guard rumored to have been murdered by a bot one night literally lives in my apartment complex. They work at the grocery store down the street now."

     "Has anyone ever been injured on the job?" Chester asked.

     "That I can't say. I wouldn't put too much weight in the rumors. People tend to get freaked out by the animatronics just because they're quirky." Vanessa waved a hand. "Anyhoo, my break is almost over. I hear you're usually on the night shift, is that right?"

     Chester nodded.

     "When's your next day shift?? I'll try to find you and we can take our breaks together. Maybe even double team some tasks?" Vanessa offered.

     Chester hesitated, fumbling with their empty plastic plate. They were nervous about the idea of trying to accomplish tasks in front of Vanessa, but at the same time, they might learn a great deal from being able to watch a legitimate technician work.

     "Nevermind, I can just check the schedule! I'll see you around, okay?" Vanessa grinned and waved at Chester as she got up and left the break room.

     Chester's break was nearly over as well. They carried their plate to the trash, wondering if their newly acquired learnings were of passable skill yet.

     "Hey, Chester." Katherine tapped Chester on the shoulder. "Sorry if I pushed any buttons earlier. Listen, I wanted you to make some friends, but… just be careful around Vanessa, alright? She's a little…" Katherine drew a circle beside their head with a finger. "She has, like, full unironic conversations with the custodian bots. Other times she talks to herself and claims to be chatting up ghosts. She's a little coocoo for cocoa puffs, ya know?"

     Chester wasn't sure how much weight to put in Katherine's words. They didn't much mind if Vanessa was a little weird anyways. "Thank you for the heads up, but I think I'll be alright."

     "Fair enough. See you later, C-bot." Katherine pat Chester on the shoulder and returned to their table.

     Chester left the break room, their belly pleasantly full. They put their fellow coworkers out of mind and got back to work. They had a lot of learning and practice to do if they wanted to be sure Vanessa didn't find them out.

~~~

     "Scuse me!"

     Sun shifted the toddler he was currently holding in his arms to better see the child who'd tugged at the leg of his pants. His facial recognition software instantly gave him the child's name- this was little Rachel, who came to visit the daycare every other day. Sun crouched down to be on Rachel's level. "My my, so polite! How can I help you, friend?"

     "How come you keep looking at the tower?" Rachel asked curiously, pointing at the tower in question. The red curtain behind the balcony was drawn tight over the room beyond.

     Sun hadn't even realized he'd been staring. Thinking back, he supposed he had been keeping a rather close eye on the room. Rachel had always been very observant, for as long as Sun had known her. He tousled her curly hair. "Don't you worry little friend! We just like to keep a close eye on everything. The daycare needs to be in tip top shape so we can all have lots of fun!"

     Rachel giggled, slapping her hands over her head to protect her hair from Sun's ruffling. "Tip top shape!"

     "That's right! Tip top, tip top!" Sun spun his faceplate. The toddler in his arms reached out their little hands to pat at his face, making a delighted noise. Sun's nearest ray instantly retracted as tiny hands got near.

     The motion camera by the door gave Sun a ping. He straightened up and turned to face the new arrival.

     "Hellooo there!!" Sun waved at the well dressed man who'd just stepped through the daycare doors. This was a new face, but the daycare pass in his pocket was valid, the name matching the one on his license- Roderick Smith. Sun stepped past a pair of kids playing with glamrock-shaped plushies on his way to greet the man. "Welcome to the superstar daycare! Are you here for a tour? Would you like to register a child?"

     Roderick turned his gaze from the daycare to eye Sun over. "Pick up kid," he said, enunciating exaggeratively and speaking a tad louder than was necessary.

     "I'm already on it!" Sun bounced the toddler at his hip. The toddler giggled happily and started to play with the bells tied to Sun's wrist.

     Roderick did not seem to find Sun's joke amusing. "…Elijah Jones is his name. I'm here to pick him up."

     Oh dear, this wasn't good. "I'm sorry sir, but you're not a registered adult! I'm afraid I cannot release young mister Jones into your custody," Sun stated.

     "What?!" Roderick planted his fists on his hips. "Why not??"

     Sun wasn't a fan of the man's volume. Briefly, he recalled something Chester had said to him; 'it's like lightning in my belly.' Sun felt like his battery was on the fritz, electricity curling in his torso. "It's a safety policy, sir, to protect the children. If you haven't registered then I can't be sure if you're an authorized guardian of a child."

     "What are you trying to say? Are you telling me you think I'm trying to steal a kid?!" Roderick fumed. "I'm here to pick up my sister's son, I'm not some sort of criminal!"

     "I don't think you're a criminal, it's just that we have to follow all safety procedures-"

     "This is ridiculous. Why am I even talking to this thing?? Where's the staff?" Roderick looked around, his eyes landing on the unmanned security desk. "Is there no one watching these kids?!"

     The sensation in Sun's torso was different now. It was like he was overheating, even though a quick system scan read normal temperatures. "I am the daycare attendant. Sir." Sun's voice came out tinged with static. Sun had to remind himself of his role. The kids were watching. He should be kind. He did not want to be kind.

     "Where is the actual staff??" The man pointed at the empty security desk. "First you make me pay for a pass just to get in this place and now you won't even let me get my kid. You know what? Forget it. I'll just get Elijah myself."

     When Roderick started to push past Sun, Sun moved to block his path. He quickly set down the toddler in his arms. "Sir, I cannot release any child into the custody of an unregistered adult."

     "Get out of my way, clown!" Roderick snarled.

     "Jester," Sun corrected under his breath, volume turned too low for the man to hear. He did not move.

     Roderick looked ready to try shoving past again when someone interjected.

     "Is there a problem?"

     Sun and Roderick turned to see Chester standing a few paces away. Chester was wearing their uniform and their typical stern expression.

     "Finally! Get this robot out of my way, I'm here to pick up my kid," Roderick said.

     "I heard most of the situation." Chester paused to clear their throat. They hadn't spoken aloud in a long while, and their throat was hoarse. "Did you register yourself as an approved adult?" Chester asked.

     Roderick huffed. "No, I didn't realize that was such a big deal. But it's not like I'm trying to steal a kid, which is what your clown robot would have you believe!" Roderick said, gesturing at Sun.

     "I don't think you're trying to steal a child, sir," Chester said.

     "Thank you!" Roderick shot Sun a mean look.

     "However," Chester went on, "We have absolutely no way of verifying that you are who you say you are. We make no exceptions here when it comes to the safety of the children entrusted in our care, as I'm sure you can understand."

     The man fumed for a moment. Chester stared him down with a rigid intensity until he wavered.

     "Fine. I'll call my sister and get this cleared up." The man stormed out of the daycare, pulling out his phone.

     Sun looked at Chester, who relaxed visibly as the man left. Chester offered Sun a smile they hoped was reassuring.

     "You didn't have to do that," Sun started.

     Chester shot a few signs off before Sun could finish. "That guy was being really rude. You're just doing your job and keeping the kids safe. It’s no trouble to me."

     Roderick returned, pocketing his phone. "Alright, she says she added me to her profile, so I should be on the list now or whatever it is. Can I take Elijah and go already?"

     Sun confirmed that Roderick was indeed now on the list of registered adults. He left to retrieve Elijah and make sure the boy had all his belongings with him and was ready to go.

     Elijah was sad to leave and pouted as he pulled his shoes on, but once he spotted Roderick he lit up again.

     "Uncle Rick!!" Elijah ran to Roderick, arms outstretched and making grabby hands at the man. Sun followed behind, watching to be sure Elijah didn't trip in his excitement.

     Roderick's face softened as he picked up Elijah. "Hey, kiddo. Your mom sent me to pick you up today, since she's running late at work. You ready to go?"

     Elijah nodded. He grabbed Roderick's tie in his tiny fists and started to fiddle with it.

     "Sorry for the inconvenience, sir," Chester said, fighting to remain civil.

     "Yeah. Keep your robot in check next time," Roderick said.

     Sun bristled. I am kind, he reminded himself. Even when others are not.

     Chester scowled. "Sun was right and you were wrong."

     Roderick, who had turned and was halfway out the door, stopped and stared at Chester. "Excuse me??"

     Chester almost regretted saying anything. Their throat felt dry and they hated the way Roderick was glaring at them. Still, they forced out the words, fueled by something hot deep in their chest. "Sun was doing his job and keeping the kids safe. You were the one behaving improperly. Keep yourself in check next time."

     Roderick gasped. Chester shut the door in his face.

     Sun stared blankly at Chester as they turned back around, staring at the ground as if surprised at their own actions.

     Sun finally spoke. "Chester-"

     "I'm sorry," Chester signed quickly. "I shouldn't have been mean to him. I don't know what came over me. I don't even know why I…" Chester looked at the door to the tower. "I'm sorry."

     Sun ran another system check. The check assured that nothing was overheating, but Sun was doubtful. "Chester. Thank you," Sun said earnestly. "That was… thank you."

     Chester smiled. "I hope he doesn't complain and get you in trouble."

     "Me? You're the one who was short with him." Sun laughed. He turned his attention back to the toddler he'd set down earlier, who was pulling at the bottom of his pants and making grabby hands at Sun so he'd pick them back up.

     Chester paled. "…You don't think I'd get fired for that, do you?"

     "I'm sure if you explain the situation your manager would understand!" Sun assured. "I wouldn't worry, good technicians are hard to come by, so they wouldn't want to get rid of you."

     "Right." Chester took a deep breath. "Let me know if you need anything." They retreated back up the spiral steps and into the tower room.

     Sun watched them go until his attention was pulled elsewhere, spotting some kids getting a little too rowdy.

     Chester kept to their room the rest of the day, though they kept an ear out for any more trouble.

     That night, once all the kids had gone home and the pizza-plex was closed and locked up tight, Chester eagerly headed for the food court while Sun plugged himself in for a charge. Chester was starving. That, and the ease of what had become routine of hitting up the line of little restaurants in the food court, meant that they weren't as careful as they should have been.

     Chester was halfway through a small cup of pre-cooked frozen onion rings when they heard a noise coming from the back end of the restaurant. Dread froze them to the spot as their head snapped up. They'd been caught red handed.

     The animatronic was hunched in the back corner of the restaurant, partially hidden by a shelf full of canned unprepped toppings. She looked up in surprise upon noticing Chester was there. Her hands were buried in an overturned garbage can.

     Chester stared at Chica, her hands full of garbage. There was a mess of it on her face as well. Chica stared at Chester, their onion rings in hand and packed in their cheeks.

     "I won't tell if you wont tell??" Chica offered.

     Chester nodded.

     The two went back to their business. Chester finished their onion rings quickly and hurried out of the restaurant.

     The rest of their shift passed without issue. After their run in with Chica, Chester was on high alert and avoided the other animatronics with relative ease. They kept an ear out for the sound of jingling bells, but they hadn't seen the animatronic who'd attacked them since the incident. They did bump into that one custodian bot, the one wearing the blue cap. The bot stared at them with an unwavering gaze. Chester wondered briefly about the bot. None of the other bots stared at them. Well, the wet floor sign bots did, but they always looked away if Chester noticed.

     Chester made quick work of their tasks, managing to get quite a few done. They’d lucked out with a bunch of easier ones, all simple repairs and easy replacements. They were back in the daycare before they knew it.

     Once again, Sun rattled off an impressive list of activities for them to do. Chester tried to get Sun to pick the game tonight, but Sun insisted that he would have fun regardless of what Chester picked. True to his word, when Chester suggested they sit and draw, Sun happily got out all the drawing supplies and laid them out on one of the kiddie tables.

     Chester decided against trying to sit in one of the tiny toddler chairs and sat on the floor instead, legs folded beneath the table. Sun on the other hand, settled his comically tall frame precariously atop one of the chairs and immediately got to doodling.

     It took Chester two tries to grab the pencil they were after. They felt like their aim was starting to get better, but it was still frustrating trying to pick up smaller items.

     "How are you feeling, friend?" Sun asked lightly.

     Chester shrugged. They signed with their free hand, mostly focusing on what they were drawing. "I'm alright. I have been constantly groggy. At least my headache is getting better."

     "Have you been dizzy at all? I noticed you sometimes have trouble getting up the stairs," Sun remarked.

     "You noticed?" Chester paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. They'd thought they had been doing an ok job of hiding it.

     Sun had stopped drawing and was now giving Chester his full attention. "Have you been feeling nauseous? Bothered by lights or noises? Having trouble concentrating?"

     "What's with all the questions?" Chester huffed. They didn't meet Sun's gaze. "Don't worry about me, Sun. I'm alright."

     "Chester, you may have a concussion."

     Chester stared down at their pencil. They knew they weren't doing great, but there really wasn't anything to be done about it. They glanced up as they spied a strange blue light flashing in Sun's eyes.

     "When did you hit your head?? Chester, I think you need to see a medical professional." The concern was transparent in Sun's tone.

     Chester realized Sun must have just scanned them. They pulled their hat down tighter over their head. "Right. I'll… I'll do that." Chester didn't enjoy lying, but they couldn't exactly explain why they couldn't leave the complex. They busied themself with drawing.

     Sun wrung his hands together, the bells on his wrists jingling from the worried motions. His sunrays all shrank in, slowly popping back out one by one. "Are you scared of the doctor? Don't worry, lots of kids think the doctor is scary! But its their job to help you, and I hear they give you a lollipop when you're done!"

     He'd seen right through their lie. Chester kept sketching, just so they didn't have to look at Sun. "Not that I don't love a good lollipop, but I really can't go to a doctor right now." Chester risked a glance at Sun, who had folded in on himself and was now bouncing his leg. "I'm sorry for lying."

     "You are forgiven." Sun put his hands on his knees, forcing his leg to still. "We're just worried about you, friend."

     Chester's hand stilled. They put their pencil down. "Why?"

     "What do you mean, why?"

     Chester looked at Sun incredulously. "Why are you worried about me?? Why would you care about me? I'm the asshole who blackmailed you into letting me take your room! Sun, I'm not a good person."

     "No bad language in the daycare," Sun said on impulse, though he rushed to turn the volume down as he ran the line. He quickly put his volume back up to normal and carried on. "You're not a bad person just because you don't have anywhere else to stay!! Really, we don't mind you staying here at all!"

     Chester wasn't sure where this was coming from. All of a sudden they were feeling a horrible rush of guilt and anger with themself. Here they were, making bad choices and hurting people, even though they could now afford the choice. They'd done nothing but steal and lie and deceive and hurt since they'd gotten here, since they'd gotten away. "I threatened to tell on you about the lights if you didn't do what I said. That was wrong of me! I shouldn't treat you like that. No one deserves to be treated like that." Chester took a moment, clenching their shaking hands into fists. They squeezed their eyes shut and breathed, calming down before going on. "I'm so sorry, Sun. You've been unreasonably kind to me, and I've been…" Chester stared down at the table. What were they doing here? Sitting here, drawing with Sun, pretending to be his friend. "I'm sorry. You can have your room back. I won't tell anyone about the lights, I promise."

     Chester stood up, planning to grab their duffel bag and leave the daycare. Sun shot up as well, surprising Chester when he grabbed their arm to stop them.

     "Chester… thank you for the apology. I know you don't want to tell me why you don't have anywhere else to stay, but that's okay. You don't have to. You are in need of help, and I want to do whatever I can do to help you. I don't think you're a bad person. A bad person wouldn't have helped me deal with an upset guardian, wouldn't have been kind and polite to me, wouldn't have gotten so upset over being mean to me. You can stay in my room for as long as you need, okay?" Sun slowly released Chester's arm, as if they might flee if he moved too quickly.

     Chester had no idea what to say. They lifted their hands to sign, only to lower them again. Their eyes threatened to water, but they quickly fought back the tears. They took another deep breath. "I don't know what to say. Thank you, Sun."

     Sun's head did a quick spin. "Of course, dear. I'm not mad or upset with you. Will you stay?"

     Chester thought about going back to their little supply closet, maybe stowing their stuff away in one of the empty employee lockers. They looked at Sun, tried to imagine never coming back to the daycare. "…Are you certain you don't mind me staying?"

     "Not in the slightest. I promise," Sun assured.

     "Okay… I'll stay. Thank you," Chester signed.

     Sun wrapped Chester up in a big hug, squeezing them tightly. Startled, Chester let out a nervous little laugh and awkwardly pat Sun's back.

     "Would you like to keep drawing? We can talk about something else if you want," Sun offered, releasing Chester.

     "Yeah, okay," Chester agreed. They returned to the table with Sun and took a deep breath as they picked their pencil back up (they even managed to grab it on the first try).

     "Sooo have you been making any friends?" Sun asked. He went back to doodling, amassing a collection of colored pencils and crayons.

     "Actually yeah. I think. Her name is Vanessa, she's a technician. I'm told she's weird, but I'm also told that I'm weird. I think Vanessa is alright," Chester signed. "I've also been getting along with Monty, the gator guy. One of the golf club dispensers in Gator Golf got jammed, and he roped me into a game since he was kinda bored. It was right during lunch time and there weren't a lot of people there."

     "That sounds like fun!!" Sun bounced happily in his seat.

     "Do you have any friends?" Chester asked, returning the question.

     "I've got lots and lots of wonderful friends!! The kids are all so sweet and we have so much fun together! Sometimes Freddy or Chica will stop by and pay me a visit too. Freddy is very polite, like you! Have you met him?? I think you two would get along great."

     Chester recalled almost bumping into Freddy the night they'd snuck into the complex. They'd been avoiding him and the other animatronics to the best of their ability since. "Not yet," they signed. "Hey… how many animatronics are there?"

     Sun ticked off his fingers as he counted the animatronics. "There's the four glamrocks, Freddy, Roxy, Monty, Chica, and there's also DJMM, and of course, yours truly!" Sun put a hand to his chest, popping his sunrays in and out all at once.

     That… wasn't right. Chester hadn't gotten the best look at the animatronic who'd bashed their head in, but they'd seen enough to know he wasn't any of the others. "Are you sure there's not one more?"

     Sun's hand twitched. He lowered it to the table. "…What?"

     "I… met… another animatronic a while ago. He had red eyes and a circle head like yours. I didn't get a great look at him, it was dark and…" and he was hard to see while he was chasing me and bashing my head into the ground, "I do remember bells? There were jingling bells on his costume."

     Sun sat absolutely frozen. No bouncing leg or tapping fingers, no loading symbol sunrays. He stared at his page full of doodles, but the hand holding the crayon was still.

     Chester glanced up at Sun. They wondered if he was thinking. Chester was about to prompt Sun when he suddenly snapped to attention.

     "How strange!" Sun sounded strained. "How did. How did you meet this bot?"

     It was Chester's turn to freeze. They couldn't let Sun or anyone else know about the incident. "It was just a brief meeting. Didn't even say much. Who knows, he could have just been one of Vanessa's ghosts," Chester joked.

     "Who's to say?" Sun laughed, though the sound came out high pitched and strained. "Say, what are you drawing over there??"

     Chester looked down at their sketch, gladly accepting the change in topics. "Just a rough diagram of Freddy. I've been reading those technician books all day long, I see diagrams every time I close my eyes."

     "That's a very good drawing! You even got the little compartment on his arm where he keeps his spare microphone," Sun remarked, leaning over the table to look.

     "Yeah! You all have these neat little details like that built in, it's really fascinating. Like how Chica's voice box has all this extra space for downloading voice files, so she can impersonate or mimic the others. That way she can cover for them in performances if someone else has technical issues. Or how Roxy's eyes can see through walls, so she always knows where everyone else is on the bumper car race track." Chester paused, wondering if that was why Roxy had found them so easily their first night shift, despite their attempts at avoiding the animatronics.

     "My voice box is like Chica's! Mine can even create new voice files, so we can do all sorts of fun voices for story time," Sun said.

     "Really?? That's cool!" Chester paused and looked up at Sun. "Hey, I've noticed that you sometimes say 'we' or 'us'. Can I ask why that is?"

     "…I would appreciate if you didn't," Sun said.

     "That's okay. I've got secrets too." Chester didn't press the matter. "What are you drawing?"

     Sun relaxed, straightening his posture as he held up his paper for Chester to see. "It's a cozy little cottage and a creek in a field of wildflowers," he explained.

     "Wow, that's amazing!"

     "Thank you, but I can't take all the credit. I just copied this from a picture I found online. I thought it was really pretty so I wanted to draw it," Sun said.

     Sun and Chester drew and talked about easy things for the rest of the night, until it was time for Sun to prepare the daycare. Chester tried to help clean up the art supplies, but Sun insisted he could handle it. Chester ascended the spiral stairs and listened to the faint sounds of Sun rushing around the daycare as they fell asleep.

[undergrounddweller89]

Pen pals

Killian's in prison, one that belongs to the agency but it's more of a place to help people reform, but that's not the main part of the story , this is just Killian going though the moments he and Walter interacted , thinking about what he'd like to do with him and gets a surprise request later that day.

This is a one shot, so if you want to know what happens next well that's up to your imagination to decide <3

Killian likes to think of Walter...alot.

and I'm just hoping you enjoy this.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Everything followed order, up by seven, breakfast by eight, therapy by ten, lunch by one so on, so forth…

Killian was tired though, he was plagued by nightmares of the past, thankfully not every night, there was respite on the nights he dreamed of one Walter Beckett, his therapist had called these dreams and his emotions a form of rescue romance.

It was yes a reasonable conclusion but at the same time, he was willing to indulge his fantasies for the peace they brought him.

To have been faced with someone so kind, someone willing to save him, he found he could not turn away from the idea of that light after so many years in darkness.

He had to be strapped down when he slept, with the screaming and thrashing they’d said it was for his own good, after the first few times he’d hurt himself and other staff members.

Killian could tell, none of them wanted to admit it, he made them uneasy, he’d nearly destroyed their way of life, he would have succeeded if not for one man he’d greatly underestimated.

Kindness, a better way?

These ideals, ideas had once been a joke to him and yet they were exactly what brought him down and the reason he was alive.

Yes a better way.

Leaning on the cafeteria table, elbow on the surface, chin in palm as he played with the plastic fork, how easily he could crush it between his fingers, turn it into tooth picks between steel claw tips.

It was thanks to Walter Beckett he was here; thanks to him he still had his robotic arm with controlled strength so he couldn’t crush anyone’s skull with it…sadly.

They couldn’t exactly rip out his eye… but then again considering the history of the agency, Killian would not have put it past them, all they would have to do was put him under and have it removed and if they felt kind enough replace it with something plain.

Yes he’d heard about it, agents had even mocked him saying he had a fan in that little nerd, they called Beckett a weirdo for standing up for him, his devices had been disabled so they only functioned as eye and arm, again, that was because of Beckett.

A fascinating creature, unusual…what would it be like if he could sit down and talk with him, properly.

Man to man.

He took a bite of the mashed potatoes on his tray, lip curling, bland as anything.

Oh one more thing Walter had written and appealed to let him have his face mask, his argument had been closer to the truth than he cared to admit.

He did hate seeing it, that ugly reminder of what Lance had done to him, on bad days he couldn’t bare to look at it, the scars felt fresh as the memories would come crashing back…it wasn’t always like that but to have to see them constantly may have caused a genuine decline in his mentality.

Killian did miss having decent hair product and his own hair brush, of course, something he wasn’t allowed, you could easily shove the handle down someone’s throat, gouge an eye out, find a way to whittle the handle and make your own shiv.

You know just the small personal things.

Killian stared at the food; of course it was hard adjusting to what limitations he had but did the food have to be so plain.

Would it kill for a little seasoning, though Killian was sure if he filed a complaint it’d be put through the shredder, it wasn’t as if he was a favoured prisoner after all, his crimes he was sure made the guards act less than favourable, oh nothing that would get them in trouble, just looks, only going to points A and B, no conversation unless it was to get answers or be given orders.

He was grateful to be alive all the same, it meant he could still enjoy the ocean view, to see such vast waters that could lap gently one moment into great thundering storms...some people did not know just how privileged they were to see such things, he’d grown up in a land locked country with next to no time to travel, spending time with those he’d cared about and lost.

Poking at the tasteless food with a sigh, he thought of Beckett’s eyes, some type of god had poured the ocean into them...replaying visuals like a little black box, ones he could only see, he’d often look at Walter and how the light caught them, they were beautiful...his hair fire and copper, pale skin dusted lightly with freckles he wondered if they were also on his shoulders or the back of his neck, the idea of pressing his lips there tenderly was certainly a warming fantasy.

Killian smiled just a little, a fond one, you might just think he was planning revenge and enjoyed the thoughts, he knew others assumed all he was doing was cursing him, thinking up violent ways to tear him apart.

No, he was doing anything but that.

Killian’s days here had been spent reminiscing, going over each moment, ohhh having bionics that could record and store whatever he wanted was truly a wonderful thing.

Of course there was that first moment, where he’d stepped on him, being able to go back over the moments, he could think about how the dirt on his face made his eyes all the bluer, how brave he’d been, to face him, he’d only mildly fascinated him when he’d flipped him over onto his back with his foot, moving his shoe from his pretty face down to his chest.

A fleeting thought of what was someone like him do running around trying to stop him, he should be in someone’s bed surely...perhaps his had it been another time another place.

Walter had been surprisingly calm, but still trying to tell him there was a better way but the moment he’d heard Lance’s name, such pleas were falling on deaf ears, at that moment Killian would do anything, anything to hurt Sterling and a pair of pretty ocean eyes were not going to deter him from his mission.

So simple and yet genius to have escaped using a handful of breadcrumbs, the agency would have sooner murdered him, heh darling sweet Beckett perhaps a little too innocent for this world despite his age, no doubt reality had at least begun to set in even just a little ehhh probably.

Reaching for the salt and pepper in an attempt to bring some flavour to this god awful meal, brow furrowed in thought, recalling the battle, when he’d almost shot Walter when the M9 drones gun had been knocked from his hand, the laser fire just missing him and knocking down the wooden planks hiding his location at the time.

Until that point he’d believed he was dead...because he believed he had killed him in that moment when he’d sent the M9 drones to blow up his submarine, just to get back at Sterling ...well at least he’d tried to make that death quick, he could have taken him in and tortured Beckett right there in front of Lance.

There had been a moment of satisfaction in Lance’s pain, but it was fleeting, after he’d left Sterling to mourn he himself had needed some privacy a stiff drink...a moment to mourn the young life, the ocean had reclaimed that strange creature once more.

Killing was easy, but...that one, Beckett, hadn’t even screamed, kicked, cursed, scratched at him, didn’t even try to dig his fingers into flesh as he was pinned down, he continued to tell him there was a better way right up until the moment where he’d nearly mangled his face, anything he could do to hurt the agent who’d ruined him, he’d been willing to do.

Yes, when he’d seen Walter was alive there was a sense of relief and guilt lifted for that death...after Sterling through the effects of the truth serum exposed Walters plan, he’d briefly thought about incapacitating Walter, but no, he had a chance to let him live this time, instead he’d called a drone to run, Beckett was not a part of his vendetta, something about him was different than the others and despite his rage and pain when he looked at Walter he saw innocence, something similar to how he’d once been before Kyrgyzstan and the events that’d occurred there.

Killian felt a twist in his stomach at the thought of someone killing Walter, guilt at his own attempted, scrubbing a hand down his face; unable to eat he pushed his tray away.

Hearing the guard clear their throat and glance at the tray, Killian rolled his eyes, picking it up he disposed of its contents, he’d lost his appetite anyway and decided he’d feel more at peace in the recreational green house and headed off there.

They’d been given a choice of small jobs here and he’d chosen to work on the maintenance of plants, after all if he ever managed to leave this dammed place, a pleasant little flower store on the corner of Beckett’s Street might be a rather good way to live out his days even to just make sure he was safe.

But there was another reason he’d chosen the greenhouse besides that, entering through the steel and glass door, outside of the windows framed iron, with wooden paneling and seating beside them, you could see you were high up, oh but that view, the ocean vast and wide as if it never ended, all manner of colours during the summer days from blues to emeralds scattered in gold, grey and destructive during storms and rain would hit like mini stones over the glass...beautiful.

He touched over the soft velvet petals of white roses and irises, they were his favourites, stars in the night or perhaps as he looked them over, there was another reason he favoured the contrast, light and darkness could not truly co exist without the other, you could not appreciate much unless you had the opposite to see the difference.

Pulling on a glove for his human hand, he took up the pruning sheers on the table where the tools were set, if he so much as tried to leave the room with these an alarm would go off, they were all tagged and would cause problems for anyone trying to smuggle them out of their correct location.

Tending to the plants, making precise slow cuts, searching for any little weed, the soil was rich and soft, rolling small pieces between gloved finger tips, there was a peace to be found in tending to such beautiful fragile things...he’d tend to Walter if he could.

It had all meant to end in bloodshed.

He thought to himself.

Justice for what happened to the people who’d been innocent, the ones who’d sooner have died themselves than spilt a single drop of blood purposefully.

Killian honestly didn’t give a shit about any of the people he was surrounded by now, he had no ties no reason to, the spies the people of the agency, oh he still hated them, he would gladly see them die and-

He stilled a rose head falling against the dark earth...his bionic eye went from red to blue again, staring down at the flower, a wasted life that had done nothing but simply exist...

Placing the shears down, clearly it wasn’t a good idea for him to he holding sharp instruments right now, instead he picked up the white flower and cupped it in his palm, long metal fingers gently prying off each petal and placing them on the dirt one by one...looking up he knew exactly why white roses....

Beckett’s pale skin and the ocean waves that paled in comparison of his eyes...why did Walter of all beings bring him the same peace of a sunset shore highlighted in warm tones fading into the calming tones of dusty pink as the night sky began to settle in.

Hands empty now he stepped closer to the window, looking up out into the spread of clouds highlighted in the afternoon sun, only now beginning to show signs of the evening.

Killian had depended on that one moment when he’d brought Walter face to face to him, he could have head butted him, he knew exactly how to do that and carried him off, dropped him even, but that moment of fear that showed in his eyes, his first thought was perhaps he could reason with him.

“If you shut them down now you’ll kill us both.”

That look as Walter had turned his head to see just how high they were, he could have used the drone right there at his disposal to shoot him, destroy the device on his wrist, something anything, but the idea of seeing the light gone from those eyes, empty and cold...no he’d had to hope he could change his mind...but then again negotiations had never been his strong point.

“And you’re no killer.”

That was it.

That was all he could think off to say to him!

He could have said

‘I’ll stop the attack if you come with me, I’ll leave, drop this mission if you come with me! ‘

Instead he’d just assumed that Walter wouldn’t dare cause them both to die, with his talk of doing things differently...that moment when he’d said

“No I’m a hugger.”

It had baffled Killian entirely and then...that device separated them, Mcford had tried to reach out, he couldn’t believe it, despite their difference, his naive view on the world, Walter chose to save him.

Seeing him fall, time itself had slowed, he knew what was going to happen to Walter, his despairing gaze only turning when the drone had been deactivated and realized he too was heading back to earth.

Now the question was...would Walter have done the same...if he’d not had the inflatable hug? Indeed that was something to ponder on.

Something told him though his choice would have been the same...but at the price of both their lives, he could settle for losing his own but it grated him, the idea of such wonderful potential almost lost because of his own rage, the idea of Walter being...

Killian glanced over at the scattered white petals...yes just like that.

It was strange...

Killian sat on the window seat, the cushions were thin and in need of a change for new ones, however this was a prison not a five star resort, shoulder pressed to the glass and looking down where the docks were, empty at present, no new arrivals, visitors usually came by helicopter.

How peculiar that a man he barely knew had wormed his way under his skin, into his heart, was it infatuation?

Scratching at his cheek lightly, disrupting his hologram, metal softly grinding on metal.

The thought of Walter being dead, cold, buried in darkness unsettled him, something more like a glass coffin would be more suitable, he should be displayed like a pretty china doll, yes the idea of him being dead that alone could smother out the sun itself.

Killian would never forget that moment he was sitting inside that inflatable ball, defeated, arm inactive, at first stewing in his defeat, the fact that glitter and bubbles had practically put an end to his plans to get the justice he’d for the last ten years had been seeking, that irritating squeak as the waves caused it to gently bounce against the rocks, he remembered feeling exhausted, knowing it had all come to an end and not the one he’d wanted, how his victory had been stolen, he was supposed to die getting that revenge , end all that anger, to have his pain silenced.

Oh it still hurt to think back on the past but as he heard Eye’s voice, that amazement and awe.

“He saved him.”

It soothed something in him, his rage dissipating as he placed a hand on the interior of his plastic prison and asked, even though he knew it was impossible his first response, his first question had been a small yet hopeful thing

“Is he alive?”

Killian had expected the worst but to hear he’d survived, he didn’t care how, Walter was alive and that was all that mattered, his choked sob of relief had left the onlookers baffled but he didn’t care, their opinions didn’t matter to him just Walters.

In a world where violence was met with more violence, death, endless and continuous…his angel had taken the hands that had intended harm and smiled, offering his life for his, not literally of course but the metaphorical substance was there, Beckett could have saved himself and the agency, but those eyes looked up at him and without a word said

'You are worth saving.'

How could he ever thank Walter for that chance to live and start over, Killian didn’t think he could ever repay the mercy he’d been given.

No one had ever done something so selfless, at least not for him, the best he could do was to try to think more like him, even if to show he valued Walters ideals and respected him, he’d been reminded that violence was not the only solution, but learning to forgive, to try and move on was a start, it would be a long and arduous that much was clear, especially with Lance in the mix, that definitely soured things but maybe there was more to Kyrgyzstan, metal claws flexed instinctively, he’d locked in one thought , a play over again and again of what happened until he was no longer a man but a monster, now that life had been breathed into him…what did that make him now?

Sighing, Killian rested his forehead on the window, everything was so complicated now, if he could time jump, reverse it, he’d slip back into that moment when he and Walter where being carried away, he would make a bargain, a trade of shutting down all of the M9 assassins from their course, all but the one that held them above the surface of the world in their own private little paradise, all Walter would have to do was agree to come with him, be with him forever and ever, after all that wasn’t really so long at all was it, not if it was happy and full of wonder.

A small smirk formed on Killian’s lips, knowing already what the answer would be, after all Beckett was so eager to save people wasn’t he, but he, Killian would actually show his genuine appreciation for it, he wondered what his darling sparrow was up to now, had the agency thrown him in a corner, commemorated him for his astounding work, one could never be quite sure especially with how they continued to allow Lance to carry on after what happened in Kyrgyzstan.

Killian had, had his little daydreams though, like waking up and finding him sleeping on his chest as the morning sun caressed over them, exposing those subtle freckles that dusted over Walter’s cheeks highlighting auburn hair, which would be a mess after a night of love making, fingers stroking through it and down his spine, Killian couldn’t help but wonder if Walter’s skin was soft.

Thinking of his own scars, Tristian was also curious to know if Beckett had any of his own from science projects gone wrong, in places he’d never see but long to kiss if only to show him he found each and every part of his body beautiful.

He wanted to know how he looked when laughing, the sound of his laughter, to see how his look of want would be beneath or above him, back arching and flushed.

How sweet would he sound at tender kisses to his neck, being held and softly whimpering, maybe the fantasy was better than the reality, but with his current situation he would never have the chance to find out and well…it was highly unlikely that Walter would ever see him in such a way right?

Killain smiled at the thought of getting to talk to him in a situation as simple as having a coffee at some quiet little corner shop, asking about his day, even if there was no chance for romance…the man who’d helped Sterling still had to be interesting to say the least.

Someone who could hack into his bionic arm had to be highly intelligent, no one else had even thought of it…himself included, obviously or he would have put in more precautions to make sure that couldn’t happen, Killian knew he was lucky in that circumstance that Walter was kind that he believed in a better way or he could have very well turned his own robotic arm against himself, what an irony that would have been.

He flexed his metal claws, of course it had the right firewalls and software now after Walter put in the safety measures himself.

Looking up as the greenhouse door was opened, was it another inmate? As much as he wished the place was just his he was not the only one who enjoyed a little therapeutic time with the plants, it turned out to be a guard holding an envelope, looking less than pleased.

Sitting up Killian eyed the paper with suspicion, usually guards didn’t hand deliver letters unless it was from someone higher up, had something been overturned, given the death sentence behind Beckett’s back…no if that was the case no doubt the guard would be looking pleased with themselves, either way it’d been opened and the vetting team hadn’t even tried to hide it…maybe it was the guards and they had come to tell him something, after all who was even left to send him mail, who’d want to.

“Seems that weirdo, wants to write to you.”

The guard laughed extending their arm as they handed Killian the letter.

Frowning at them, he purposely took it with his claws, finding satisfaction at how they flinched when they snapped sharply together.

“I think you’ll find that weirdo has more intelligence in his little finger than you do your whole body…are you jealous that he’s not writing you, after all I hear you constantly bragging that you think if some nobody can become boss of his own division why can’t you, he’s not a no body unlike you he’s a genius you troglodyte.”

Smirking as their expression soured, the guards fingers flexed, they were someone who thought themselves above the rules but Killian unsettled them enough that they didn’t mess with him, it wasn’t worth the fear of looking over their shoulder and with Killian's model behavior since arrival they wouldn’t be able to say that it was in Mcford’s character, it would look alike they’d provoked him…of course there were also cameras in the corners of the green house to.

“Whatever.”

They grumbled and left.

Killian pulled off the gardening glove he’d been wearing and set it down before pulling the paper from the torn envelope , Walter’s stationary had pigeons on it at first he wondered if it was some in joke about their first meeting in Venice, though as he read through the five pages the young man had sent him he understood and somehow Beckett was now ten times more endearing to him, it was easy to imagine him being excitable as he told him about his day of course keeping out top secret information he wouldn’t be privy to but still.

The numerous facts on pigeons, talking about the little things that went on through the day, asking if he was alright, hoping he was being treated well, that one day he’d like to come visit him.

Beckett couldn’t be real, no one was this nice and genuine, he had to be in a hospital bed in Kyrgyzstan in a coma and dealing with death and Walter was just waiting for him in a heaven he was welcomed in, that had to be it.

The hand writing a mix between messy and curly, written in Walter’s own hand, it made it all the more personal than some printed out thing that was signed at the bottom, finger tips tracing over the paper, this was something Walter had touched, it was for him.

These words were written for him, even if the security had checked it over, it made it no less important or special to him.

He would of course have to write Beckett back, it would be a terrible thing to leave him hanging like that.

Reaching the final words on the last page he stilled and had to read it again…and then again…and again to process what he’d been asked by the younger man.

Pen Pals?

He wanted to be

Pen Pals?

Well now wasn’t that interesting.

‘Would you like to be Pen pals and see what the future can bring?

Sincerest wishes for your better future

Walter Beckett

P.s

I sent a picture of myself if you want to throw darts at it in case you hate me, but if not use it as a book mark or something.’

Killian looked at the picture he realized was still in the envelope which surprised him, his heart nearly exploded from how adorable he looked, smiling at the camera with a white and brown pigeon nesting in his hair, oh that must be the Lovey he’d mentioned in the letter, how cute, he smiled fondly, well he’d be doing more than just using it as a book mark, it’d help him get through lonely nights to, not that Walter needed to know that.

The gesture was wonderful, if he could hold him he would have, resting his back against the window he held the letter and picture to his chest, the giddiness that swelled inside him was like being in love for the first time all over again.

In a soft tone he whispered a thank you, eye closing as the other went dim.

Could they be pen pals?

Of course the answer was yes.

He’d love to.