#thank you to these two for being both my puppets in this situation

[demodoggonetired]

✨Time for them to have a fun night so that I can practice drawing people again✨

reference

[seabirdtxt]

It's been a while since I made a request to a blog, but I really enjoy your writing, and your AUs got my brain going with ideas (especially the Glitch AU). It has me thinking about how our favorite little Puppet boys would react to some of the... interesting hobbies I have: two of those being things like Doll making/repainting, and cosplaying/ general fantastical costuming.

I feel like both of these hobbies have the potential to lead to both hilarious situations and moments of being a bit... perturbed at best (especially doll making: the random assortment of doll limbs being places, or having naked dolls that are precariously hung from the ceiling to finish drying from paint jobs).

I do know that at least Kabukimono and Wanderer (Scara might have forgotten since he hadn't used the skill in a long time, and Wanderer likely relearned it) know how to sew, so the sewing part could be cute bonding time.

Could be platonic or romantic in nature: both would be fine. And also, fully understand it will probably take you time to get to this, of you even get to it at all. I just appreciate you taking the time to read this request~! Can't wait for your next bits of work: hope you have a wonderful day~!!! 💕💕💕💕

hey!! thanks so much for your request!! this was a funny idea bc i can't imagine any of scara's iterations being any good at collaboration but for all separate reasons lmao

I'm not too knowledgeable about doll making but hopefully you like this anyway :D i wrote it as a bit of a glitch!AU spinoff in my mind, but feel free to imagine any other scenarios these three clowns might come together for hahaha WC. 1.3k

----- ⚘ -----

When the three puppets were told not to enter your room and disturb your hobby workstation, this isn’t what they had in mind. Wanderer thought maybe you did something embarrassing as a hobby, Scaramouche thought it might be something potentially dangerous especially if you intended to keep it a secret from them, while Kabukimono was certain that you did some sort of artistic craft that you preferred to keep hidden until the end product was finished.

All three of them were right, in some way or another. 

The three of them stand in your workshop, staring in horror at the dozens of separated doll components you’d strung up around the edges of the room. Scraps of tiny, doll-sized outfits were scattered around your desk, and a half-painted doll head was mounted on some sort of device in the middle of the chaos. The doll’s single painted eye watches their trespassing with silent judgment.

You’re glad you find them out so soon, and you have exactly three seconds to stop them from touching anything in the workshop.

“WhatareyouguysDOINGinhere?!” Nailed it. 

Kabukimono leaps a vertical foot into the air out of fright at your sudden and shrill outburst, while the other two react in more subdued manners before turning around to face you, standing in the doorway behind them. Your arms are outstretched, palms forward, and you’re braced as though you’re anticipating some sort of impact.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You warn. “Not all of these are dry, and if you smudge anything I’ll have to restart them.”

“Why do you have a bunch of dismembered doll corpses?” Scaramouche asks, jerking his thumb at the precariously hanging doll components.

“A seller in Inazuma asked me if I could help him finish a few dolls, since I told him I used to do it as a hobby back in my world.” You explain, not dropping your guarded position. “If any of you want to eat dinner this week, I suggest you step away from the dolls. Slowly.”

“Can you not call them that?” Kabukimono complains to Scara as the trio carefully shuffle out of your workshop. “They’re not corpses, they just haven’t been put together yet.”

“Well, they aren’t alive either, so what’s your point?” 

“If you need some help completing them, I can pitch in.” The three of you look wide-eyed at Wanderer, who seems to immediately regret making the offer. He shrugs and looks away quickly. “Or not. Whatever.”

“I’d love some help,” you start hesitantly. “But what did you want to help with?”

“I can sew the clothes, I guess.”

Scaramouche’s nose wrinkles at this statement. “You can sew?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Wanderer counters, reaching into the inner lining of his haori and showing off a small, familiar cloth doll. Instantly, Kabukimono is patting himself down with a frantic expression, before pointing at Wanderer accusingly.

“Where did you get that?! I lost it a long time ago!”

“Heh, of course you did.” Wanderer smirks. “I made mine. What, are you telling me you never thought of making yourself a new one?”

“I was never good at doing the small stitches…” Kabukimono pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the doll jealously. 

“That aside,” Wanderer continues, turning to you. “I can help you finish the clothes for your project dolls. The faster you can finish them, the faster you can retrieve the commission for them, right?”

“That’s true, I guess,” you acquiesce, already running the math in your head. If you could get the commission for the dolls early, you might not have to budget as hard this week. 

“I wanna help too!” Kabukimono declares, raising his hand (a bit redundantly, given he’s standing right next to you).

“Whatever,” Scaramouche snorts and waves dismissively as he begins to walk away. “If that’s what you nerds want to waste your time on, be my guest. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Party pooper,” you say, sticking out your tongue at his retreating back. “Well, what do you say, guys? Let’s get this bread?”

“Sure,” Wanderer nods, heading back into the workshop.

“What does bread have to do with dollmaking?” Kabukimono asks, even as he’s herded into the room by you.

“I’ll explain later, let’s finish up these bad boys first,” you promise, and the workshop door closes behind you.

----- ⚘ -----

“I made another sword!” Kabukimono declares, hurrying over to your workbench and showing off the tiny doll-sized sword he’d made. The fifth one, so far.

“That’s great, buddy!” You give him a pat, to his delight. “I think we’re okay on swords for now, though, d’you wanna try making something else this time?”

“Okay!”

Wanderer looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a few pins sticking out of his mouth as he uses them to hold his patterns in place. 

“Did your toymaker guy say what kinds of dolls he wanted?” He asks, holding up another utilitarian-looking outfit. “I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind when he asked for your help.”

“I mean, these are kind of edging into action figure territory,” you shrug. “But that’s probably fine. There’s a market out there for everything, nowadays.”

“Make a kimono that looks like the Shogun,” Kabukimono suggests, handing Wanderer some purple fabric. “Everybody likes the Shogun, right? She should be pretty popular.”

You and Wanderer both wince (for different reasons) at Kabukimono’s well-meant statement. However, Wanderer does take the purple fabric and sets it gently aside, and you wonder if he’ll take the suggestion after all. 

“Are you losers done in here? I’m tired of doing the dishes for two days straight,” Scaramouche kicks the door in, uncaring of the delicate work you three are doing. Thankfully, the risky parts are all done, so nothing suffers any damage with his sudden entrance. Scara drops three bowls onto your workbench, each piled with fried rice and vegetables.

“Ha, you’d make a great housewife,” Wanderer snickers, earning himself a smack on the back of his head. “Ow.”

“Thank you!” Kabukimono takes his bowl and brings it to where he’s working on something, hopefully not another sword. 

“Thanks,” you say as well, giving Scara a genuine smile. The puppet scowls and leaves as quickly as he’d come in.

“Don’t bother! It doesn’t benefit anyone if you drop dead from starvation, you know?” he sneers over his shoulder as he slams the door shut. 

There’s silence as you three eat the lunch that was generously provided, stacking the bowls and putting them beside the door for when you guys go for your next break.

“I think I’m done after I finish this last outfit,” Wanderer sighs, holding up the unfinished garment. It looks hilarious in his hands, a cheerful pink and purple kimono in stark contrast to his deadpan expression.

“I’m almost done too!” Kabukimono adds, holding up his latest project: a doll-sized armor set. You smile gratefully at the both of them, even as you rub your temples with a sigh.

“Okay, great, I’ll put these together and bring them to the toymaker later this afternoon, then!” You say, hoping you sound enthusiastic about it. You think about the mismatched collection of outfits and sword accessories, wondering how you were going to sell this to your temporary employer. 

----- ⚘ -----

As it turns out, if there’s one thing Inazumans like, it’s swordsmen. The toymaker looks in awe at your half dozen tiny samurai, handing you a pouch of mora with a pleased word of thanks. 

As you’re headed back home, you get a telepathic message from Wanderer.

KABUKIMONO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE’RE GETTING MORE DOLLS.

‘He fired me, we’ll have to do something else,’ you think back, hoping you don’t sound too guilty in your head.

As much as you love these guys, you aren’t sure you could take another two days straight of having to collab with them. Hopefully buying some treats on the way home will placate them.

—– ⚘ —–

^ reader trying to juggle all three scara iterations without breaking any of the dolls LMAO

[peachymilkandcream]

My Husband, My Monster|Part 1|William Afton x Wife!Reader

(A/N: So this is the fandom that won the poll! I'll try and keep these and Break Me Slowly regular, but still feel free to give me requests for both in my inbox, I do oneshots and headcanons as well as I'll answer your questions and comments! (Please just read the rules first) I think I have a general timeline and idea of the lore [It's FNAF lore it's complicated as fuck] so I'm going with my best guess on things. Hope you guys enjoy!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, power imbalance, age difference, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere themes, yandere behaviours, domestic violence, misogyny, violence, William's a warning himself, etc.

=============================================

Who knew that a bit of twisted words and cash made all of your problems go away? William had struggled to stay open with Henry Emily's company showing such strides in mechanical technology. He was still wearing homemade cloth suits while his rival had dancing puppets that children adored. His dreams and ideas were being stolen right out from under him in his eyes, rolling in mountains of debt and the threat of closing down looming over his head. They were his characters, his dream, his business idea, and the bastard had to steal it and make it better. Even though he had bought William out of debt all those years back, it didn't change the sting of defeat when the two businesses merged.

Now he didn't regret it, Fredbear's Family Diner was just starting out but it was already projected to be a success. His characters took centre stage and had never been more alive, delighting young and old alike, his legacy started now.

Which is when he noticed the girl sitting at a table with her friend, they were giggling and laughing together over some inside joke. William had always had a soft spot for pretty girls, his more reckless years spent taking what women offered him freely, now he didn't have the time.

However for this girl he might just be able to make the time.

Casually he walks over, pretending to just be passing by, when he spies the job application she's filling out on the table and catching snippets of their conversation.

"I'm just saying, you're not going to have time for school while getting even a part time job." The friend was saying this, a slightly concerned expression on her face. "And now offence, you're not the brightest bulb, you need all the time to study that you can get."

"Well thanks." She mutters, giggling slightly. "But I can't afford college with my situation now. Mom and Dad agreed to pay for most of it, but-" She hesitates with a blush. "I want the full college experience."

"Ooh~" Her friend seems intrigued. "My best friend finally loosing her innocence? Scandalous."

She scoffs. "Look I just haven't found the right guy yet, it'll happen when it happens."

At this William can't help but interject. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but glance over your shoulder and see you're applying for a job here."

She meets his eyes, and man was he a sucker for a pretty face. "Yeah I am, are you a manager here?"

He chuckles a little. "No actually, I'm the owner." While co-owner was technically true he liked to tell people he owned it solely to give himself an ego boost. "If you wanted, I could do the interview right here."

"Wait really?"

"Actually, she's fine, thanks, she's going to get a job with my mom or something. Come on let's go-" Her friend slides out of the booth, trying to drag the woman with her.

"Well I'm going to be brutally honest with you here ma'am, for a girl your age your options are going to be extremely limited. And even though the pay isn't great it's a great experience."

She stops, considering his words before waving off her friend. "Go ahead, I think I'll still fill it out, never hurts."

"If you'd like I can interview you right now, save some time."

"Oh wow that would be awesome-"

"Seriously? Listen, this guy gives me a weird feeling, let's just go okay? And I'll find you something better." The friend again reaches for her to come along, but the girl refuses.

"I'm serious, go on and I'll tell you how it went later."

With a huff her friend leaves, a clearly annoyed expression evident on her face.

William regains his composure before sitting across from her. "So, a job. Tell me what you can do." He crosses his hands on the table in front of her, a smile easily coming to his face.

"Well, I was thinking I would be a good server, I'm good with people, especially kids, and I love to clean. I can cook pretty well too but I think something at this scale would be too much for me." She laughs a little, clearly trying to ease a little nervousness.

He joins in on her laughter, hoping to make her comfortable around him, since that's what he wanted. "I suppose that's fair. Out of curiosity, why is it you want this job?" She was hired already, that he knew, a pretty face with a nice ass? What more could you want from an employee?

"Well I'm in college, and I want to be able to afford just some extras to really experience that life before it's too late."

"College?" He feigns interest, in his opinion all she was doing was wasting her most fertile years and her money. If she's halfway decent at any of her qualifications then she'd easily find a rich enough man like him, pop out a few kids and have a truly fulfilling life. "Can I ask what for?"

"Psychology, the human mind has always fascinated me."

"Oh yes definitely." He suppresses an eye roll, even more of a useless degree, maybe he could help this girl from throwing her life away because she thinks deep thoughts will make her money. "Then I should ask for your class schedule for hours."

"Right, I always keep it with me because I'm always forgetting." She giggles again, pulling it out of her purse and handing it to him. "I cannot work these times but anything else I'm there."

Wanting these hours to know when not to schedule this girl was the last thing on William's mind. "Well I'll do what I can, but it's not that easy, you have to be flexible in the real world."

"Of course, I understand that sir."

"William, call me William. My grandfather was sir and my father was Mr. Afton, so I'm just William." He flashes another smile, coaxing one from her lips as well.

"Alright, William." She tests his name out on her tongue with a soft smile and a subtle blush, the poor girl clearly hasn't been within five feet of a man before.

"Now Miss, have you had any work experience prior to this?"

"No, I haven't, this sounds entitled but I've never really had the need to up until now?"

"There's nothing wrong with that, although I'll need to teach you the proper dynamic between employee and employer. But I trust that won't be a problem, right?"

"Not at all sir-er-William. I'm more than happy to learn."

"Good, all you need to know is that I'm your friend, but I have authority over you so you need to follow what I say without question."

"Why without question?"

Oh she was so naive. "Insubordination, it's grounds with which you can be fired. So best not to stray too far towards that right?" He winks.

"Absolutely-" She shivers slightly.

"Then if that's it..." He draws the moment out for it to seem authentic. "Welcome to Fredbear's Family Diner and we're happy to have you on the team." He extends a hand to shake, which she grasps eagerly, her rows of white teeth on full display.

"Oh thank you so much! When do I start?"

"We'll have you start next week, let's say, Monday."

"That's perfect, that's so perfect-" She glances at the door. "I really should go, I think I've pissed her off enough as it is, thank you for your time." She shakes his hand and hurries out the door.

"Oh trust me, don't worry about it." He watches her go, a small smile coming to his face.

This was just the beginning.

[moethewriter]

Your fics are so so so good. I love the introspection so much. Could you do #30 on the angst prompt with finnick, if you want? thank you!

Hey Anon! Thanks for the compliment! Of Course I can. This one actually took me a hot second to think of an idea for! But I hope you enjoy it! -- TITLE: The Things We Need Most WORD COUNT: 1.1K WARNING: Fighting, not sure if anything else is worth noting under here but if there is let me know and I'll change it! TAGS: Introspection cause its me, fighting and arguing, two idiots being idiots. READER IS FEM CODED!!! Only because it made the most sense with the plot that came to mind! SUMMARY: Sometimes what you needed most was right in front of you ... A/N: Hello again all! The reader in this is fem coded just for the sake of the plot, it made more sense! Thanks for enjoying my work so far everyone! Hope you enjoy this one too, and as always I take constructive criticism so please feel free to leave that!

“You can’t tell anyone.” You said, furiously crossing your arms as though you were a petulant child arguing over bedtime. You thought if anyone could understand, he would, but apparently you had thought wrong.

“The hell I can’t!” He laughed, a small harsh little laugh that didn’t suit him at all. He was looking at you, his eyes boring into your soul, holding nothing but hurt, fear and frustration in them.

“You think I’m going to sit here and let Mags or Annie go back into that arena? Absolutely not, I can’t let that happen.” You snapped, a red tinge growing over your face as anger filled your bones. “You can’t seriously think that either of them are even prepared to step back into there. You and I both know that they’re not! So get off your high horse and keep this secret like I asked you too!”

When you had been reaped, Mags had been your mentor. Finnick had tried to disagree but with the friendship you two had, you knew it wouldn’t be wise. If he lost you, like you had almost lost him, he would be distraught. You were distraught when he had left for his games, nothing seemed to be okay after that. 

But Mags had stepped up, and she got you every sponsor she could. She took care of you and helped you make it out of there alive, back to Finnick, to her and your family. 

You hadn’t met Annie officially until you had turned eighteen, and she, seventeen. Finnick had introduced you both and you had clicked instantly. She became like the sister you never had and then it became the three of you. Annie hadn’t returned the same after she had been reaped and won her games. But Finnick and you had always been there for her, and you would be there for her now.

“If I march in there and tell them what you’re doing, you think they’re going to allow you to put your life on the line for them! They would never allow you to sacrifice yourself for them, you know!” He shot back, running a hand through his hair, roughly. 

“It’s not their choice, Finn! It’s mine. I am actively making this choice alone. You can’t sit here and seriously say you wouldn’t do the same!” An exasperated laugh passed through your lips, as you looked away from him.

Obviously no one wanted to be in this situation, everyone had been promised to be left alone after they had won. Of course Snow could never allow that for any Victors, with how he operated with them after the games. He couldn’t let his little puppets not be punished, he was incapable of sympathy.

“I would take their places in a heartbeat, you know! I would never have any of you going back there if I could!” Finnick said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Neither of you could stand to look at one another, both far too worked up than the situation called for, in your opinion. For the first time in a very long time you didn’t understand what was going through his head. Why was he shooting back at every opportunity, did he think that there was a chance you wouldn’t survive, did he not have that faith in you anymore?

“If you think I’m incapable of doing this, then you need to tell me. Don’t sit there and bullshit your way around things and not give me an answer to why you don’t want me back there. Because I know it’s not just because you're worried.” You said, a cross look passing over your face. You were done yelling, and fighting. You just needed to know what was going on. “If you can’t tell me then you need to let it go, and not tell anyone what I’ve told you here tonight. You need to respect me enough to keep that secret like I’ve asked of you.” 

He looked at you, biting his lip gently. He hardly did that anymore.

“Y/N.” He sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself. “It’s not that I think you couldn’t do it, or wouldn’t be strong enough. You’re the bravest person I know, and one of the strongest. I guess in a way this is selfish … the reason I don’t want you back there. I can’t lose you. We’ve almost lost each other at least once … I can’t feel that again.” He whispered, and you could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“But I can’t be okay with losing Annie or Mags, Finnick. I’m barely okay with the thought of losing you.” You reached out to cup his face, gently.

He looked so much younger like this, more like the boy you had met all those years ago.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

“I …. Finnick.” Your voice was tinged with sadness, and you had no idea what to say at this moment.

Finnick had never left your side from the moment you two had met. He had been there through every single major moment of your life. The day you had your first heartbreak, when you had broken a bone, he had held your hand through the reaping ceremony. He was the piece you had been missing. You couldn’t remember life before him, though you were sure you wouldn’t want to. He was everything to you.

And somewhere between then and now … perhaps you had both fallen in love with one another.  

Of course you had loved Finnick from the moment you had been ten years old, when he had challenged you to a swimming contest and you won. You hadn’t embarrassed him, or that’s what he had always said, but you ended up taking a liking to each other. .

From that moment on you two had become inseparable, there was never one of you without the other. He had changed your life for the better, and you had always hoped you made an impact on his too. 

“I love you too.” You admitted after moments of silence. “I think I always have but there was never a right time to say it.”

“No time like the present.” Finnick chuckled, small and gentle. His hands came up to cup yours, warmth radiating from him.

“I don’t think days before the reaping of the Quarter Quell is the best, but I’ll take it.” You smiled. “Kiss me?”

All he had needed was permission. He leaned down, gently slotting his lips with yours as you brushed your thumb against his cheeks.

Minutes felt like seconds and before you knew it he had pulled away from you, eyes no longer shining with tears but pure … love and joy.

“If you go back in there, both of us are coming out. Got it, L/N.” Finnick said, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“Got it, Odair.” You laughed against his chest. 

You didn’t know what the two of you did next, you barely had a clue of what would happen tomorrow … but this was the start of something beautiful. You could feel it.

[atrueneutral]

I had an idea for a cute scenario for Raphael x Tav involving Scratch and the baby owlbear. Now, Raphael probably wouldn't be a fan of the two, but Tav either comes with the fur-babies or not at all. However, one day Raphael (and, to a lesser degree, Tav) are tricked into a trap by other fiends - maybe implying a desire to negotiate with Raphael - where Raphael ends up being drawn away and separated from Tav while other fiends/warlocks ambush his little mouse, either to kill or maybe use as a hostage, (a 'If you're here, Raphael, then who is watching out for your little mouse?' kind of situation) and the only reason the scheme fails is because Scratch and the owlbear intervene to fearlessly protect Tav until Raphael arrived and could help Tav put the attackers in their place.

Judging by their protective body language and their overall wariness of their surroundings, the owlbear cub and the mongrel didn’t trust the devil Mez’gal.

They were smart creatures, at times, but they were also filthy, malodorous, and an unfortunate, bothersome consequence of his… partnership with Tav.

“I was summoned to hear you grovel, and yet I hear none,” Raphael said with a sneer and a gesture to the pit fiend.

Mez’gal had ‘surrendered’ to his little mouse as soon as she and her four-legged hunting party had found him outside a village, and she aptly called a mortal appearing Archdevil Supreme to hear the fiend's final pleas.

“Might we conduct business within your House of Hope, my lord?” Mez’gal proposed. His large fiendish body bowed - a sign of desperate submission.

“I’d sooner let that dog step foot in my House than you, but, seeing as how eliminating you here would only send you back to the hells, and I desire to end you completely...”

Raphael looked back to Tav. She gave him a nod and a small smile, and he raised his hand in preparation to snap. 

It was at the last second, just as friction was applied to thumb and middle finger, that he caught a malevolent glimmer in Mez’gal’s infernal eyes.

Snap!

They materialized in the entrance hall, and Raphael shed his mortal visage.

“Grovel,” the Archdevil Supreme demanded.

Mez’gal smirked.

“I was under contract, my lord,” he spat. “And by bringing me here, I’ve just fulfilled it.”

“By bringing you here… I’ve guaranteed your death.”

Mez’gal's face turned mocking as his arms opened wide. “I’ll be a martyr - by the time you kill me, your little pet will be dead from the ambush.”

Rage boiled, spilling over, and Raphael ascended - to rip and bite and tear the pit fiend asunder as quickly as possible.

—

When he reappeared, no longer ascended, there was nothing but the scent of bloodshed; the bodies of three warlocks were scattered about with gashes in their clothes, bite marks in their skin, and arrows embedded in limbs.

The two remaining enemies were busy throwing panicked spells at the filthy, malodorous animals coming for them.

Snap!

Snap!

Hellfire consumed the warlocks - their screams deafening as they instantly fell to the ground.

The two creatures watched, growling and posed defensively as they waited for the last breaths to leave the warlocks. When death came, smelling of burnt flesh and blood, Tav went over to the cub and mongrel. Raphael was somewhat irritated to see how non-plussed she appeared - as if attempts on her life were an amusing everyday occurrence.

And she was ignoring their true savior!

“My two good boys, yes, you are!” she said, giving them pets and scritches that delighted the animals greatly. Tav then leaned her ear towards the mongrel’s head. “What’s that, Scratch? Why, yes! I do think Raphael owes you both a ‘thank you’!”

Raphael’s irritation increased; he knew she could not speak to animals.

She was grinning at him, and he was weak for loving her smile so.

“Thank you,” he bit out.

Tav grabbed the mogrel’s muzzle , and the mongrel allowed her to move his jaw as one would a puppet.

“Rawrrororor,” went the mongrel.

“You’re most welcome, Saer Raphael,” said Tav as the mongrel.

Yes, filthy, malodorous, and sometimes helpful creatures they were.

[authorxxxxxx]

Celebrity Crush | Erling Haaland x fem!shy!short!reader

Request :

Imagine you and Erling are each others celebrity crushes (reader is an f1 driver or whatever you want them to be) and she goes to her first Man City Game but she is nervous because even though these famous she is quite shy

Most of the city lads know about Erling crush so when they see her they tease him saying things like “ooo your girls here” Erling doesn’t believe it until he see you for himself

After the game (a win of course) you both meet up after and since it’s your first time meeting they are both really flustered

Erling asks them on a data and they exchange numbers

After there 5th date Erling confesses his love for the reader and is such a simp for her

Maybe if you are comfortable it ends in really soft smut between the two and even softer aftercare

Xxxxx

Ps- I love your writing your doing so well, keep it up 🩷🩷

__________

Thank you so much for requesting this imagine , the idea was amazing and I was so glad that I had the chance on writing it .

Again thank you all for the undying suuport < 3 ( I WILL NOT STOP TELLING YOU ) .

Tw : nervousness , shyness , shity friends , the fem!reader is described as short , AND SMUT ( I tried OK ? ) .

Ps . I was so happy writing this .

English isn't my first language , so if you spot a mistake , please just bare with me .

5k words : )

Enjoy < 3

______________________________________________________________

Reader's Pov

Being a F1 driver is not an easy thing . It is not an easy thing at all . Everyone is constantly judging you for everything .

Especially if you are the only woman in a sport that most people are men .

I am not saying that F1 is a man's sport . I've known a lot of women in the Formula world , it is just that everyone is hard one you when you are the only woman in Formula racing with other people . And it is even harder when you are racing in F1 .

Currently I'm sitting in Toto Wolff's office with Susie .

" I don't know what I did wrong . I didn't say anything to him ." I said to Susie about what happened a few minutes ago in the conference room .

I was sitting with Lewis , George and Mike and we were all waiting for the other drivers to show up so we could discuss some things for the upcoming season .

But someone had other plans . . .

A lot of drivers didn't even showed up .

Lewis was starting to lose his patience and after a couple of minutes he got up and tried to search for the others .

" Where are you going ? " I asked him quietly looking up at him .

" I just want to get this over with and go home as everybody else wants , but there are just a few of us . " He said angrily .

" Let me come with you . " I said to him and the moment I got up from my chair , a certain Red Bull driver whispered : " Puppet " .

After that I just left the conference room and didn't show up .

" Honey it wasn't your fault . Everyone is anxious for the race . He didn't really mean it . " Susie said trying to calm my down .

It wasn't really working .

When Toto came in followed by Lewis , we went through the situation again , and then decided that we all need a brake .

This was a really good opportunity to visit Manchester and my family.

Maybe go out with some of my friends .

__________

Manchester

I hate my friends .

We decided to go all out tonight , maybe at some bar and then head back home , but my friends decided to bring me to my first football mach with Manchester City against Chelsea .

Not because they wanted to watch a football game .

No .

Because they know about the crash I have on a certain striker .

Erling Braut Haaland .

The man isn't even aware about my existence .

So what am I even doing here ?

__________

Erling's Pov

" OOO YOUR GIRLS HERE " !!! Jack Grealish screamed to Erling while they werje training before the start of the game .

" Stop screaming man . What are you even saying ? " Erling asked his close friend .

" I saw her man . I swear . She is right over there in the VIP section . " Jack said to him while pointing out in the crowd .

Erling grabbed his hand shocked . " Stop pointing . Your blind . She's not here . I would have seen her . "

" Yeah right . " Jack said while trying to hold his laugh .

" Ayo bro . Y/N's here . " Phil said walking towards them .

And with that Erling started panicking and Jack bursted out laughing.

__________

" Famous F1 driver for the AMG Petronas team is in the house . " The presenter said quietly while your face showed on the big screen of the City stadium .

Erling was shocked .

He stoped dead in his track .

Your beautiful features right infront of him .

" She is so cute . " He said to himself not knowing that the cameras were filming his reaction .

The internet is going to be on fire tonight .

__________

" OMG Y/N YOU ARE ON THE SCREEN !!! " Your friend scream to you pointing at the camera .

" Huh ? " You asked quietly , but she was right . Your while face was on the screen .

Feelinh embarrassed you looked down and missed the face of your biggest crush looking at you .

" OMG Y/N ERLING IS LOOKING AT YOU !!! " Your friend scream at you again shaking you this time .

" No he doesn't . " You said with a red face .

" OMG Y/N THERE IS A VIDEO ON TWITTER . YOU ARE ERLING'S CRUSH . " Your friend said to you while looking at her phone screen .

Soon the game started .

__________

Manchester City won against Chelsea and Ofcourse Erling scored the goal .

Everyone was celebrating .

Even you .

You left the stadium . Your friend went home with an other guy and left you alone . You didn't brought your car with you .

" I miss my Benz now . " You said to yourself while looking down walking to the parking session and then head out , when suddenly you heard laughs and voices .

" Oi Y/N how are you ? Did you liked the game ? You know Erling scored a goal . " Jack said to you while you saw Erling Haaland himself for the first time behing him .

When Jack started walking towars you , Erling went behind him and in a matters of seconds they were both right in front of you .

You and Erling were both looking at each other .

Didn't say a word .

" Erling has a really big crush on you Y/N and by your looks you seem to have too . I'll leave you both to it . " Jack said proud of himself and then walked away , leaving you both looking at each other .

__________

" Your face is really red . " Erling said quietly while looking down at you.

" Your really tall . " You too said guietly while looking up at him .

When you two realished what you both told one another you started laughing .

" Can I have your number ? " Erling asked you smiling .

" Ofcourse . "

" Do you have a ride home ? I can take you if you want . " He told you .

That night were he drove you home , you had your first date . It was a long drive and you got to know some things about each other .

" Will I see you again ? " He asked you when you reached your house .

" We can go out tomorrow for dinner . Is it okay with you ? " You asked him with a smile .

" Yes it is . " He answered and you gave him a kiss on the cheek .

After that you thanked him again and got out .

__________

You were both sitting in a park near your apartment , eating burger's and drinking Ice Tea .

" Are you sure you should be eating those things ? " You askeh him once again .

" No but I'm not gonna tell anyone and neither do you . " He answered and kissed your cheek smiling .

You were both dating for a couple of months and things have been great .

You loved him , but you were really afraid telling him .

" I am gonna delete my Instagram account . " Erling said defeated . " Everyone keeps calling me a simp and Jack encourages them . " He added and you laughed .

God . . . how much he loved you . Your smile , your eyes , your laugh .

" I know it's only been a while , but I think I love you . I really do . " He confessed and you could sense that he was worried that you might not share the same feelings .

But you interrupted his thoughts .

" I think I am in love with you too . I mean I know it's only been two months , but we are both happy and we are having a great time . We don't have to be anxious about it right ? " You said looking him in the eyes .

Suddenly you started kissing .

You didn't even know how you ended up in your apartment .

Erling holding your hands beside your head , your legs spread out for him , slowly sliding in and out of you .

All you could think about was him .

Only him .

The way he was giving you so much pleasure , but at the same time he was so soft with you .

Leaving kisses and hickeys on your neck and your collarbone's .

Holding each other like your entire life's depended on it .

Him kissing you like the worls was ending .

But the way his hips found yours in every thrust made you see oblivion .

You could feel him twitching everytime a soft moan escaped your mouth .

When he was close he left your hands and wrapped them beneath your back and your head embracing you in a thigh and warm hug .

Your hands found their way into his hair .

You were close too . He could feel you squeezing him everytime he reached a certain spot .

After a couple of minutes he bottomed out .

You reacher your high .

Both feeling high .

He didn't let you go for a second that night .

Holding each other , laughing , telling stories , having sex again , kissing .

And when the morning sun made it's appearance , you finally fell asleep .

__________

@unimportantbabymilksharkte

@evarasworld

[maverickscorner]

Faber suae fortunae

Or Maider's love story towards freedom.

Chapter 7

Maider and Tenax woke up after only a few hours of sleep.

And it showed.

They both had dark circles under their eyes, and they struggled to get out of bed and meet each other in the main hall and outside the house.

–Good morning– said Tenax.

Maider replied with a grunt that was meant to be a greeting but remained just a grunt.

Tenax sighed, and they started walking down to the Circus Maximus.

Maider seemed lost in thought. She wasn’t speaking.

"Strange", Tenax thought. "She’s usually quite talkative".

He also thought that he liked hearing the sound of her voice, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

–So?

–Huh?

–Why the morning silence?

–I thought my lord and master wouldn’t mind a bit of quiet.

Tenax looked up at the sky.

–What’s wrong?

–Tenax– she said, seeking his gaze –A conversation takes two people. One talks, and the other responds. And vice versa.

–Do you think I don’t know the rules of etiquette?

–I have my doubts, but that’s not the point.

–So what is the point?

Maider chose her words carefully. She knew how easily he could get irritated, but she had woken up particularly combative herself.

–I appreciated that you listened to me last night. But when it came to listen to you...

She shot him a meaningful look. He furrowed his brow.

–I’m not a puppet, Maider. I don’t speak on command.

–I’m not so insolent to imply that. I know what you’ve done for me, and I appreciate it very much. And perhaps it's that... you’re not just my master. I trust you. I’d like to have that same consideration from you.

Tenax stopped. He looked at her, a little taken aback. Maider had the audacity of a front-line legionary. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

–I’m not like you, Maider– he told her.

Maider felt a little hurt.

–Oh, thanks.

–No, you’re... an open book. My book is better left closed.

Maider met his gaze.

Time stood still again.

–If it makes you suffer, so be it.

Tenax shook his head.

–I can’t afford to suffer, or to feel any other emotion.

Maider stepped closer to him.

–But you do. Sometimes... I can see it.

Tenax didn’t look away from her.

–Let that be a secret between us, then.

Maider seemed torn. Despite belonging to him, Tenax had always treated her with great delicacy. Now, as she selfishly felt that something was about to blossom between them, she didn’t want to force things or follow her instinct too much.

Even though her instinct had always gotten her out of the tensest situations.

So, not knowing what else to do, Maider nodded firmly without saying anything.

She nodded and strode towards the tavern.

Tenax found himself standing in the middle of the road, alone, decidedly bewildered.

Time before, another version of himself would have cursed her for her behavior, or worse, dragged her back home and forced her to scrub the main hall’s floors with the smallest brush.

But this was Maider.

And Maider was important to him.

So he went after her.

–Maider!

He noted with some disappointment that she was only slightly shorter than him and had a particularly fast pace.

He sighed in frustration and finally caught up to her.

–Damn it– he said –You’re ridiculously fast.

–My father didn’t leave me much, except long legs– she muttered.

–You said you don’t know anything about me, but I don’t know anything about you either– he said, impulsively.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised.

–I told you about my trauma.

–Yet you didn’t go into many details.

Tenax realized he had chosen his words poorly when he saw her flush with anger.

–And what should I tell you, my lord and master? I believe you have no shortage of imagination!

–And yours, with me? Do you think a master is obliged to tell his slave what happened to him as a child?

Maider understood. Tenax fell silent. He had said too much.

–Tenax, I...– she began.

–Forget what I said.

–All right. I would never ask you such deep things without you being sure to tell them.

–Good.

Without realizing it, they had arrived at the tavern.

–Maider...

–No, you’re right. I overstepped, and I apologize.

And she moved towards the entrance.

Tenax gently took her hand. A pleasant shiver ran from that touch through the rest of their bodies.

–In my life, I’ve always had to fight. I was... I was a slave too. A beautiful kid.

Maider sighed, looking into his eyes.

–You're still not that bad.

Before Tenax could internalize those words and blush like a teenager, they heard footsteps. It was Nica.

–Maider!– the little girl exclaimed, hugging her –I missed you.

Maider smiled at her.

–Good morning, little one! Have you eaten?

–Yes. Can we have the singing lesson we talked about yesterday?

–Of course! Let’s go.

–Yay! Bye, Tenax!– Nica said, waving her hand. He returned the wave with a smile.

He watched Maider walk away with Nica, feeling a sense of unspoken that took his breath away. He told himself he needed to learn how to open up in the healthiest way possible.

Otherwise, she would make him do it without him even realizing it.

And he would thank her for it.

***

Tyrone was a thirty-seven-year-old man, Cala's age, with dark skin and an imposing physique.

Tenax had hired him into the Golden Faction shortly after the deaths of Andria and Fonsoa Corsi. They needed someone to help Elia with the horses, and Tyrone, in Numidia, had owned a farm with a stable of thoroughbreds until the Romans confiscated it. Then, widowed and with a seven-year-old son, he had left the little boy with his sister and traveled to Rome in search of a work that would allow him to send some money home.

Although Domitian had wanted the chariot races to end, the Roman people were still too attached to the various Factions, so the stakes, after some uncertainty, had been purchased by three great Roman families, who had recreated, in addition to Tenax’s Golden Faction, the Blue, White, and Red Factions.

So yes, it was at Tenax's Golden Faction that Tyrone had found work as a stableman, alongside Elia Corsi, who had recently become the father of a beautiful baby girl.

Their shared passion for horses had brought Tyrone and Elia closer, and Elia had introduced Tyrone to his wife Jula, and then to her mother Cala.

There had been an immediate spark between Cala and Tyrone.

From just catching glimpses of each other at the stables, he had asked her out a first, second, and third time. With her children's blessing, Cala had agreed, and they had started a wonderful relationship that had been going strong for several months. Despite his height and bulk, Tyrone was an extremely gentle man, and Cala loved this characteristic of his.

That day, shortly after lunch, Tyrone joined Cala at the tavern.

Seeing him, Cala's face lit up. She put down what she was doing and walked over to him. They kissed.

–Hey, so great to see you. Do you need something to eat?– she asked him.

–Yes. Has Maider performed already?

–Yes, she just finished. Look, she’s over there...

And she pointed to a table where Maider was devouring a roasted chicken leg.

Cala smiled.

–That girl is a force of nature. Every time, it’s as if she hasn’t eaten in days.

Tyrone laughed.

–Singing makes her hungry, Cala.

Then he lowered his voice, glancing around.

–And Tenax?

–Probably in a meeting with the other Factions’ owners or the officials in charge of the games. Busier than ever, and yet...

–Yet?

Cala lightly slapped his shoulder.

–I didn’t think you were so gossipy, my dear.

–Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.

–And yet, this morning, the kids saw Maider and him arguing just outside the tavern.

Tyrone furrowed his brow.

–Huh? Isn’t that a bad thing?

Cala took his arm, leaning closer to him.

–Aura, who was nearby with Iris, told me there was a good percentage of sexual tension involved.

–What?

–You heard me right. There’s strong chemistry, but they’re still studying each other. As far as I’m concerned, I hope this mutual study continues and bears fruit.

Tyrone smiled at her.

–You care a lot about him, don’t you?

–We’ve been through a lot. He deserves to be happy, just like I do.

–Then we’ll see, my dear. If it’s meant to be, it will happen.

She kissed him, watching Maider from a distance.

–Let’s hope so, my dear. Let’s hope.

***

Hey guys! Eli here. Hope you like this new transition chapter. Let me know in the comments what you think ❤️ Thank you sm

[rewritethisstxry]

Hello! Would you be willing to write Heisenberg from RE8 kissing his crush for the first time?

Hello! Thanks for being my first request. I hope this is to your liking! Karl decided he wanted to be a little stubborn for it.

Ultimately Your Decision

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x nameless character

Warnings: None

It was rare that Karl had something that he could covet and keep secret. All for himself and no one else's eyes. Sure, he had his factory and all the experimentation that he did deep within the bowels of it. But this thing? It was entirely different. Enough so that it tore his attention in two. An act that left him both wanting more and a little resentful that his time was taken away. True freedom couldn't be obtained until Miranda was disposed of, after all. Dreams and ideas of the future were pointless unless Miranda was no longer controlling them all like puppets on strings. 

Not that any of his siblings saw it that way, all dancing and jumping when asked. No, they were content with the way that life was. Doubtful that they had made peace, but they had all twisted it and morphed their existence into content lives in the middle of this hellhole. Not Karl. No. He had clung to the hatred, the pain, the rage that Miranda had fostered and cultivated deep within. 

The one little light amongst it all? The piece of what had to be something akin to normalcy that he found in his companion within the factory. Not that he knew what the hell constituted normalcy at this point. His entire cursed life had been more or less spent in the hellhole of a village with the bitch looming over him. That was besides the point though. His assistant had at first been nothing more than a body to help out, someone the lycan had found half dead. The potential was there when Karl had seen the fight in them, how they were practically half dead but still trying to fend off the beasts that circled. 

Nursing them back to health had been an odd chore. Karl was far more used to destroying dead bodies than he was caring for the living ones. Even when it came to the soldiers he made, they weren't living, and certainly, he didn't give a shit about what happened to them. Minus complete destruction because that just meant more work for himself. Something about the additional life within the factory did something to the man. It had all been trial and error, something that he struggled with, and they did just the same. It had taken a good three weeks for them to not shy away from his touch. Something that perturbed him to no end. 

At first, he had hid from it, railed and bucked like a snarling animal against it all. There wasn't a chance that he had feelings for them. No. It ruined everything that he was working for. Shoving it all down and ignoring it by throwing himself into work, Karl did his best to not pay attention and keep distance between them both. Distance meant that he could continue to deny the feelings, could ignore their presence, and pretend that it never existed. 

The problem? Distance didn't do shit. And couldn't exactly be had even in the massive factory that was called home. Not when the help was needed to make sure that everything stayed in order and running smoothly. It became harder and harder to deny the way that his chest both warmed and constricted when their eyes met. Hell, it happened when he was merely in their presence. Stronger and stronger each damn time. Karl was ready to pull his hair out. 

Nothing he was doing made it any easier, and it wasn't going away. Just another thing in his life that was out of his control, with no way around it. 

Which was the exact situation that he found himself in as the weather cooled down outside the factory walls. Not that a lot of time was spent outside, but the warmth didn't seem as overbearing. It was also the time that Miranda tended to call fewer meetings, not completely stopping but fewer. So, there he was, working on another soldier. 

His eyes were flickering between where his hands were finishing up implanting the new heart and the individual across from him who was prepping the visor. 

An unconscious smile worn, Karl was moving on autopilot through the motions, familiar enough that he could have done it in his sleep. Thankfully. 

"Let me get this on before you finish up there." This time, he was caught staring, and he knew it. There was no way to deny it. Clearing his throat, Karl decided to instead act like nothing had happened. Nodding,he pushed himself back from the table, leaving room for the placement of the visor, all before he allowed the corpse to reanimate.

"Yeah, okay. All yours Cupcake." The close proximity meant that Karl was immediately assaulted by the scents that cIung to their skin. The old dry blood that lingered from their work combined with some unique underlying sweetness that Karl had never been able to quite figure out. Well, more like refused to allow himself to figure out if he was honest. The sort that haunted his dreams when he was able to get the little sleep that he managed. Sometimes, it was just in the background. Sometimes, it mixed into his nightmares, and on the rare occasion, he was able to enjoy the lingering hints of something pleasant. Even if he wasn't ever able to remember exactly what that pleasant thing was. Those were the mornings that had ultimately pushed him towards accepting the feelings instead of so violently fighting against it all.

Karl prided himself on the control he had over his actions and reactions. In that moment, however, he had absolutely no control. They were too close, and the battle that he had been waging on and within himself had pressed the cultivated patience to their limits. His hand slid along their hip, a touch that wasn't entirely unusual when they were working. The next one was though, and Karl knew that he caught them off guard. His nose pressed into the back of their head, taking in a deep breath. That sweet scent was overpowering this close. A groan wanted to work its way from the back of his throat. It was by the skin of his teeth that he managed to swallow the sound. No need to freak them out even more. The way that they had tensed had told him enough. They hadn't tensed like that under his touch since those first few weeks.

Spinning them around, he was able to look them in the eye properly. It was that moment that he also realized that this was something that was completely in his control. It wasn't this thing that was meant to cause him grief anel be another reminder of what little in his life he had choice over.

" Karl, what…" He didn't give them any other chance to finish that sentence. His lips crashed against theirs, savoring the surprised gasp that caused them to open their mouth to his. It was a hell of a first kiss. And Karl vowed right there that it wouldn't be the last.

[comfortabletogether]

akane,teruya,kanade,hibiki and nikei (seperate) w/ a f!s/o who acts like/is similar to charlie morningstar,from hazbin hotel? like s/os family has high/decent social standing,but isnt entirely respected,believes theres good in everyone,is highly optimistic,but also rly stubborn,ect.

thank you for the request!! I appreciate the support!!

Sorry I’m advance but i ended up loosing a lot of momentum while writing this along with the fact that I didn’t actually love Hazbin Hotel. I didn’t have enough energy to do Hibiki and Nikei. I also didn’t exactly know what to write for them either. My apologies for dw I’ll probably write a part 2 when my requests open again!!

WARNING: SPOILERS; KANADE; MENTIONS OF KINJO

~ Mod Haruhiko ✈️

Akane Taira

🫧 Akane treasures your optimistic, go-getter attitude. She feels inspired by it, and whatever project you are working on she’ll be there for support, as you will always be to her. 

🫧 She has seen some of the horrors the world has to offer, from a nasty orphanage that caught on fire to the mistreatment she’s gotten working as a maid. Akane feels slightly protective over you because of your naive.

��� You and Yuki are a lot alike in Akane’s eyes, wanting to help solve almost everyone’s problems. And she’ll be there with the two of you, and she will often remind you that you aren’t responsible for everyone’s wellbeing.

🫧 In this vile killing game, your optimism and persistence is one of the only things that truly keep her going. In a situation that has so much blood spilt she looks up to you.

🫧 Although Akane feels lucky to be able to spend time with you, she gets really scared when you hang out with other people except Yuki for some reason. But she’s terrified someone will take your naive and trusting nature for granted.

🫧 Akane loves you so dearly, you are a beacon of life and hope in her life. Her way to finally love someone and have that be reciprocated.

Kanade Otonokoji

🎵 Kanade enjoys your cheerful attitude she finds it funny at first wondering how long it would take for you to break. because nobody could really be that nice and wonderful, right?

🎵 You worked were a graphic designer who helped create Melody Rythme’s posters for their charity concerts. And despite Hibiki being constantly her puppet Kanade was quickly growing bored. That’s when she realized that she valued you as a person as well, and immediately assumed you out.

🎵 Kanade became possessive and protective over you, wanting you to only help her. You were so kind and wonderful why would you want to waste your energy on someone irrelevant when you could be helping her? Don’t you want to help your girlfriend after her sister pushed her over?

🎵 Kanade typically uses your naive nature against you. She loves you and she doesn’t understand how to love without manipulation. But if someone else tries to attempt to manipulate you, Kanade will go apeshit on them. Because how dare they?? That’s Kanade’s job

🎵 But being around you makes Kanade feel like she is improving as a person more. That she’s becoming a better person for example she hasn’t killed anyone in almost half a year. She loves that you are changing her for the better.

🎵 Kanade probably writes all the love songs on her and Hibiki’s albums, and they are all about you and the stuff you and Kanade had done together. For example one of the tracks is your name backwards and it’s a bunch of imagery of a gorgeous girl. (Same vibes as Jolene but gay).

Teruya Otori

💴 When Kinjo brings you in to work for the intelligence Team on the Kisaragi foundation, Teruya was a bit skeptical. Especially after Utsuro had told them that the police force had fallen into despair but Kinjo reassured them that you were a trusted ally.

💴 Apparently you had also been related to Kinjo, being second or third cousins but still if Kinjo trusted you, then Teruya would too.

💴 The first thing he noticed was how different you were to Kinjo, especially in your beliefs. While the two of you are both headstrong and stubborn, you believe that even the worst of people should be able to have a second chance. That is probably what drew him towards you the most.

💴 He had experienced firsthand the horrors of this world, and therefore he is very protective over you. You are too easily trusting and that could lead to a situation similar to one’s he has seen in the past.

💴 Due to your stubbornness though, it’s very common that you and Keisuke or Tsurugi would get into fights and the talk palm tree will often have to physically separate you and them. He’s always proud of you for standing up for what you believe in and Teruya might end up developing your beliefs.

💴 Teruya is really entrapped by your kind and pleasant nature, and that you want to help people in need and trust me Teruya is in plenty of need of emotional support. After that Killing Game— he is so messed up. 

[ynisreal]

wires (8) - michael afton x reader

author´s note: helloooo tumblr! so, i've already uploaded these two chapters to ao3, because my main fan work consumption is on the site… sorry for the delay in posting them here :P summary: Michael tells you part of the truth. You and Michael clean up the establishment. Where is Ennard?

"You know what his goal is, right?" Henry's voice echoes in Michael's memories. Of course he knows, that same goal was hinging and hammering on Michael's memories all the way to your house. "Ennard must be looking for a new body to camouflage himself with again," Henry reminds the younger man of each metallic limb entering his stomach and wearing his skin like a coat. Michael wasn't going to forget the animatronic's purpose, having experienced first-hand what the big robot intended to do.

"I know, but he won't be able to find one so quickly. The person he chooses has to be injected by Remnant through the scooper before he dies or, anyway - during, as happened to me," Michael's answer to Henry's question pops into his memory, reminding him of the seriousness of the situation they were in, "I don't think Ennard knows about this, so until he finds out, there will be other bodies just like Noah's, failed attempts to find a puppet for this piece of shit."

That's Michael's fear. It's the same fear that makes him hold on a little tighter to the hands that are intertwined on his torso. You notice the change in his grip, finally understanding that you weren't the only one afraid of going back to the establishment. All along the way, Michael has been giving you these little indications that he was also afraid of what had happened, even though he didn't want to show it to you. The sudden grip on your hands, the slightly controlled breathing and the tension in the broad shoulders of the man in front of you. When there was a red light and Michael's motorcycle stopped, the man's hands brushed against your thigh, his anxious fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm on your skin. Honestly, you feel a little guilty for not comforting him, but you know how serious Michael is about his secrets and what he decides to share, so you don't want to force an opening and end up fighting with him again. You don't have the strength to get into a fight about who yells the loudest with Michael right now, with the vivid images of Noah's organs racing through your head.

"Thank you for coming to pick me up," you thank him, trying once again to distract yourself and Michael from the fear you were both feeling on your way back to the establishment. "Sure, I promised I'd help you carry the weight on your back, and I'm going to do just that," Michael replies, in a slightly happier tone than his demeanor showed. He was trying to reassure you and show confidence, which you could appreciate in him.

You smile under the large helmet that surrounds your face, "Is this the extra helmet you use when you offer girls a ride?" you joke, trying once again to ease the tension in his shoulders. However, this seems to have the opposite effect when you feel his shoulders tense up once again, perhaps even a little more. This makes you open your mouth in shock, "Wow, here I was just joking, and little did I know that I was another one of your victims," you imitate an angry tone, wanting to hear what Michael's response would be.

"Calm down, it was only two," Michael replies quickly, turning his helmeted head slightly in your direction, keeping his eyes on the road. "Apart from you, of course," the last comment being added in an obviously teasing tone, the man clearly amused by the little jealous tantrum you were throwing. "Hm, I see, should I assume that they also worked with you? Or that you also wrote them notes?" you add, continuing to dramatize the situation, amused by the lightness in which you and Michael were chatting, which completes its task in distracting both of you from the fear hanging over both your minds.

"No, that was just you," Michael says seriously, which surprises you a little, given the joking tone the subject was taking.

It's true. You feel it almost immediately.

"I didn't used to get too involved with the people I had sex with or talked to, that only started with you," Michael adds, not really caring what his words meant or what they suggested.

True. Again.

Your cheeks immediately blush. Shit, how Michael had the ability to dominate your thoughts and make the problems surrounding your head seem like ants next to his magnitude. "Well, what's in the past doesn't matter, I'm glad you've changed. You're the kind of person that everyone would love to meet," you replied awkwardly, not knowing how to react to Michael's sudden confession, letting the first words that came into your mind take over your facial muscles and spill out of your mouth.

Michael doesn't answer. After all, that clumsy little reply of yours brought a light into Michael's mind. He had changed, after meeting you, after so many months locked in the silence and darkness of the establishment, after dying and having to drag his own corpse out of a dark alley, Michael had changed. And this change was a good one, of course he still had certain reactions or behaviors that were already automatic in his brain, but even unconsciously, he had opened up to you, he wanted that opening. Michael was willing to open all his scars for you to look inside, through all the blood and pain.

"We're here," Michael says, seeing such the familiar establishment lurking on the sidewalk. You raise your head to look through the tinted window of the helmet, feeling your stomach rise in your throat and threaten to come out of your mouth. Days passed, Noah's case was still open, analyzing suspects, the sun still rose and fell the same way as before, but your fear was still there. Michael's company made you feel safer, knowing that neither you nor he would ever walk those same corridors alone, but it was inevitable that you would create various scenarios in your head about how the two of you would end up dead in the same way as Noah.

Michael noticed your hesitation, so he squeezed your hand that was still wrapped around his torso, signaling that he would be entering with you. He would help you carry the tiring weight of fear, even if his hands were growing calluses from having carried the same fear alone for several years.

The engine noise ceases and you look around the parking lot, unaccustomed to the scenery belonging to the establishment. You remove your helmet awkwardly, wrinkling your nose as you feel some of your hair being pulled along with the material. Your eyes meet the dark glass of Michael's helmet, and you wait a few seconds, a little confused by your companion's delay, when it finally hits you.

"Do you want me to go in first?" you ask, your voice soft and your head tilting slightly in sympathy. Michael's gentle laugh makes itself known and he lifts his hand to stroke your cheek.

"No need, just wait for me at the exit to the parking lot," he replies, knowing that you would feel uncomfortable entering the establishment alone, but you still wanted to make him comfortable. Michael still had no plans to show his face to you, that hadn't changed, so he appreciated your respect for his secret.

You nod and give him a small kiss on the hand that was hidden in a glove, which you assumed was part of the bike's equipment. Your footsteps echoed through the establishment as you walked up to the large red door that marked "Exit" in black letters. Michael waited until the footsteps were far enough for him to take off his helmet, wrinkling his nose when he felt bits of skin from his face getting stuck in the material. Shit, he would have to buy a wider helmet to avoid the cracks that were forming in his face, leading to some black patches from the necrotic muscles. He picks up the backpack he had brought, reaching for his hoodie and the black surgical mask he had brought. After lifting the hood from the hoodie, the upper part of his face was hidden, along with the lower part which was covered by the mask.

After a few minutes, you hear Michael's footsteps echoing through the garage, signaling to you that he was coming to meet you. "Is this the exit?" you ask, given that he's been working in the establishment longer than you. Michael saw the red door next to you and made a positive sign with his hands, showing you the new bandages that covered his fingers and hands. The famous mask and hood you were used to seeing every week are back, and you finally realize how much you had missed Michael. Honestly, you were grateful. A lot of feelings went through your head these last few days, especially with Noah's death and the story Henry told you, which helped you realize that: life is grey. It doesn't judge, it doesn't help or facilitate nor does it hinder or slow you down. Life gives what it can, and now, you were extremely grateful for what little Michael shared with you. Whether it was a blind kiss, a faceless figure or sweet words that were muffled by the mask. Life gave it to you, and you felt grateful for what seemed so little to other people, but was immense to you. And for Michael too.

"And the wage earners always come back to collect their wages," Michael said casually, letting out a theatrical sigh as he opened and held the large, eye-catching door for you to pass through. You let out a small laugh, "True, the chocolates my sister likes are very expensive these days," the same joking tone in the man's voice is heard in your own, enjoying the light mood you were starting the shift in. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's just your sister who eats them," Michael says sarcastically, calling the elevator as he pushes the button that instantly lights up. You let out another laugh, pushing the man's arm a little too hard, just to provoke him. But honestly, with the short contact of your hand on his toned arm, you realize that even if you had used one hundred percent of your strength, Michael might not have moved at all.

The elevator finally opens its doors, making a loud noise, as apparently all the doors in this establishment do. Michael lets you in first, extending his arm between the open space of the doors to prevent them from closing. As you enter that familiar environment, the reality of the place you're returning to makes itself present in your stomach again. Memories of you running through the corridors and praying to any entity that would listen to you so that you wouldn't be the next victim return to your mind, letting the discomfort begin to grow in your body. You are not alone is what you try to repeat to yourself, as an attempt to stabilize your anxiety. And it was the reality, you weren't alone, Michael was with you, the man who always tried to help you and ease your worries, why should this time be any different? It wouldn't.

The man next to you found your sudden silence strange, imagining that the memories and traumas of that night must be tormenting you. He still didn't know the details of what you had done or what you had thought on that day, only receiving the narrative through indirect sources—via Henry and the reports the older man had brought home. His imagination filled in some of the gaps, relying on the fact that Michael had been through similar experiences a few times to make accurate assumptions. "Close your eyes," Michael says impulsively, his voice coming out hoarse, surprising even himself as if his body had taken action before he realized what he was about to do.

You hardly needed time to react, immediately complying with Michael's request and allowing your sight to be stripped away. Your swift response exuded desperation, a realization that left you a little embarrassed. It became clear how effortlessly Michael could read your body language, especially in your most vulnerable moments. Your other senses took over, enabling you to listen to Michael's movements. You heard the elastic of the mask being stretched and the friction of the material against the man's skin, indicating that he had removed the object. Almost immediately afterward, your sense of touch allowed you to feel Michael's lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow and sweet, the small cuts on the man's mouth adding a subtle tickle, especially when you reached out to grab the material of his hoodie, bringing the two of you even closer. The affirmation you sought was present in the shared kiss—Michael was here. The same Michael who had promised to help you, no matter how challenging things became.

The sound of the elevator doors opening echoes through the closed room and you feel Michael's hand cover your eyes, even though you've kept them closed. The sweet taste of the man's lips disappears, replaced by the cold breeze that envelops the bare lower part of your face. "We're here," Michael whispers, his husky voice close to your ear. You nod positively, a little nervous about your prolonged lack of sight. The hand covering your eyes finally leaves, allowing your vision to return, the dim lighting of the establishment invading your eyesight again, irritating you slightly.

You glance at Michael, who already has his mask back on. The affirmation you were repeating was now firmly in your mind, so you didn't hesitate to take the first step, making your way towards the heavy, noisy doors of the main hall. This time, the loud sound didn't startle you, showing how determined your brain is to ignore any kind of fear, focusing solely on the mantra hammering away at the back of your mind. Michael follows you, satisfied that the little bit of encouragement he provided in the kiss worked, pleased with the image in front of him: you attempting to move forward. It won't be easy, but he can try to make it easier for you.

Michael follows you, noticing how you're walking a bit too fast through the main hall, searching for the cleaning utensils to organize the chaos that the police and investigators had left behind. Michael's strong arm appears in the corner of your vision as you reach for the mop bucket.

"Doll, slow down, I'm here to help you," his voice is once again close to your ear, "I'm glad you're determined, but don't forget that I also have my role in helping you," he continues, grabbing the bucket with ease and placing it on the floor in front of you.

"Okay, sorry, I'm just afraid this wave of motivation is gonna leave too soon," you express, rubbing your hands on your uniform, a sign of your sudden hyperactivity. "So don't use it all up within seconds, just take a deep breath and calmly use up your motivation battery, so you don't go into total denial about everything that happened," Michael says calmly, raising his arm to pick up the other utensils. "Honestly, denial would be a good way to deal with all this," you admit, watching as the man in front of you, once again, gathers up all the items and then leaves you empty-handed.

Michael turns his head towards you, letting the dim light illuminate the upper part of his face. With so many emotions over the last few days, you'd forgotten: Michael's eyes were completely dark. A dark black that consumed all the light in the room and didn't reflect a single glint. You remember the drawing you made that associated this feature, which at the time you thought was imaginary on your part, with the eyes of a powerful villain. It's true, it was a look that would make any villain envy the darkness and emptiness that his gaze conveys. But you couldn't possibly think that about his gaze, knowing that Michael wasn't a villain, at least not in your eyes. You looked away, not wanting Michael to find out that his eyes were uncovered. After all, if he kept secrets, you could keep yours.

"Don't say that," the man's voice is serious, "Denial won't do any good, in fact, reality will only hit harder afterwards," Michael says. Truth, you feel it again. Damn, you wish you could tear your insides apart so you could stop feeling these intuitions. Feeling your body betraying you and agreeing with Michael.

"Yeah," you reply dryly, in denial about being able to stay in denial, basically. "I hate to be cliché, but time heals all wounds, and well, justice heals other wounds too," Michael looks back at the shelves, reaching for the cleaning cloths and gloves.

"Have you experienced this before?" your voice comes out hoarse, a little frustrated with Michael's advice, not wanting to accept the reality that you would have to cope with your emotions and fears. The man doesn't stop in his movements, continuing to throw the cloths he found into the bucket in front of you. He takes a few seconds to respond, as if he's thinking about what to say.

"Yes," Michael says, "Noah wasn't the first death in this establishment."

Well, what the fuck? Isn't this kind of information usually shared with new employees?

You don't answer, your body speaks for itself, your eyes going wide and your hands clenching your uniform. "What do you mean?" your voice comes out a little broken, your fear returning almost instantly. Michael realizes this, so he makes the decision to tell you this story in another manner. "I'm going to tell you, I just need you to close your eyes so I can comfort you," he says, his voice heavy with anxiety. Shit, it was hard having to be careful about the secrecy of his appearance and keeping you physically close at such times.

You sigh and close your eyes again. Michael brings you close, covering the top of your face once again with his hand and letting his other hand caress the fabric of your uniform that was covering your shoulder. "It's been a while since that body was found," Michael is careful with his words, not wanting to scare you or expose himself too much, "Henry, the man you met, was the one who found the body, but the killer was already identified in that case, so you don't have to-"

"Did this man come back to life, or did something happen to him after death?" you ask curiously, remembering the tale Henry had told you. You really didn't believe that the man had come back to life, so you assumed that it must be some kind of lesson or significance that the employees of this establishment shared. Well, you were partly right.

"What do you mean?", the hand on your shoulder stops abruptly, surprised by your question. "Henry told me that he knew a story about a man who had another chance in life after he died," you explain, your hand reaching for Michael's to return the caress on your shoulder that was helping you to calm down, "Well, I assumed that it was a well-known tale in the establishment, and since Henry found the body, he may have tried to pass it on to me," you conclude, a little confused by your own statement. "Forget it, I must look crazy," you add, finally finding Michael's hand as you feel the familiar bandages around your fingers.

Michael smiles beneath his mask, evidently Henry must have shared the story of his death with you. "Would you like the story to end like that?" Michael asks, resuming his caress on your shoulder, "For the corpse that Henry found to come back to life?". You think for a few seconds, not understanding Michael's question, but regardless, you decide to answer: "Yes, it would be less gruesome than ending up with Henry running around the corridors afraid of being the next one, just like me," you shrug, the sincerity in your voice making your speech seem a little too casual for the reality of your statement.

"Okay," Michael smiles, a smile so big that he's afraid the necrotic tissue on his cheek will tear deeply. "You mentioned that the killer was identified, is he under arrest?" you ask.

That's going to be impossible to explain, Michael thinks.

"No," the man replies sincerely, not wanting to delve into who, or rather what, the killer was. "That's why I'm here with you, it's safer for both of us, and believe me, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that these same stories don't repeat themselves with you or your sister."

"My sister?" you vocalize, your hand that was stroking Michael's bandages quickly ceasing. "Michael, what does my sister have to do with this?", your voice sounds irritated, which makes Michael hesitate in his movements. Shit, he said too much.

"She has nothing to do with it, Y/n, calm down," Michael blurted out as he felt your hand grip his tightly. Not that it was actually hurting, but he could sense the desperation in your tone. "I only vocalized my concern for both of you, I know how much you love and care for her."

"Okay, but why should the murder in this establishment worry my sister?" you asked once again, the irritation you felt still not subsiding.

"There's a killer on the loose, Y/n, that's what I'm saying, we don't know where he is," Michael knows that what he's telling you is the opposite of comforting or calming you, but it's the truth. He didn't want you walking the streets carefree or letting your sister come home from school completely alone. Ennard was still on the loose, and he was testing bodies until he could find one that would hold up, which won't happen until Ennard realizes that the corpse needs Remnant.

You sigh, letting the depth of Michael's statement settle within you. He was presenting facts that were difficult to accept, the realization that your sister or other people could be in danger. You couldn't afford to let fear paralyze you, to be as openly vulnerable as you were being, you needed strength and courage in this moment, especially since your little sister depended on your protection and care.

While Michael could bring you comfort and motivation, this line of thinking brought you courage and determination. You had to control your emotions, after all, it wasn't just your life that depended on it.

It worried the man when he didn't hear any response from you, but soon after, he listened to your breathing become more controlled, as if you were trying to calm your thoughts and stabilize your heart. "I understand, thank you for clarifying that to me," you finally reply, your voice strangely calm, "I needed to hear that, thank you Michael," you add, raising your hand to caress his other hand, which was still positioned over your eyes.

Michael smiles, satisfied with the conclusion of the confusing and unexpected conversation you two shared. So he carefully lowers his mask, sealing the discussion you two had with a small kiss, just to bring you and him a sense of comfort and closeness after a sensitive conversation for both of you.

When you feel the hand being removed from your eyes, Michael is already wearing his mask and standing at the same distance he considers safe. Your gaze falls on the utensils already positioned in the bucket, apart from the mop and broom in Michael's hands. You crouch down to pick up the bucket with the cloths and cleaning products, but Michael's arm reaches for the item before you can grab it.

"Why do you still try?" Michael's voice is laced with teasing, totally different from the tone you two had been talking in a few minutes ago. You let out a hearty laugh when you saw that Michael was practically hugging the broom and mop with one arm, squeezing them tightly against his body so they wouldn't fall off, while his free arm was carrying the bucket. "If you'd rather contort yourself to carry the bucket than let me handle a broom, honestly, you're crazy," you smiled, holding out your arms, hoping that Michael would make an exception for today.

"Call me crazy all you want," he says, ignoring your offer and starts walking through the corridors in search of the mess made by the investigators. You roll your eyes, amused by Michael's extreme insistence on being a gentleman, but you still follow him down the corridors to start your day shift.

"Fuck, couldn't those jerks collect their damn tapes?", Michael's voice rings out through the corridors until you reach Ballora's gallery, where you were. Hearing him get angry about this makes you laugh as you organize some boxes that the cops had emptied during the investigation. "Damn it, just put that shit in the garbage can, did they have to leave it on the floor?", Michael finally makes his way to the door of the room you were in.

"Michael, it's our job to manage the establishment, their only job is to investigate," you explain, without taking your eyes off the task you were doing, sorting out the items that were for the decoration box that ended up on the floor due to the policemen's carelessness. "But it's also their job to have the minimum of human dignity and throw garbage in the garbage can," Michael replies, still frustrated by the mess that had established itself in the Funtime auditorium: badly cleaned blood, torn yellow tapes on the floor, empty coffee cups everywhere and, to complete the humiliation, the staff toilet near the auditorium was clogged. Not that Michael needed it, he no longer has a functioning digestive system, but you did, and the asshole cops apparently didn't think about your digestive system while they clogged up the only fucking toilet in this establishment.

"Are you going to unclog the toilet? I can finish the boxes quickly and get it done," you asked, turning your body towards the door. You saw Michael standing in the doorway, holding two transparent garbage bags, both visibly full. "No, I'll do it," Michael replied in frustration, not at you, but at the mess. As much as he found the months he spent alone in the establishment frustrating, he had created a sense of home for the place. For him, seeing this messy and untidy place that he'd practically lived in for months would burst a vein, well, if he had veins with blood pumping through them.

"You're already cleaning the auditorium, which I believe has been left in a mess of blood and other filth," you plead. Michael had immediately offered to clean the auditorium, knowing that it would be uncomfortable for you to relive your memories there, even more so with the blood barely cleaned up by the investigators who collected the body and the various tapes written "Crime Scene".

"No, I'll clean the auditorium and the bathroom, no problem," Michael put the bags down, sighing at the effort he'd been putting in all afternoon. It was strange, to spend the whole afternoon mopping the floor and walking back and forth through the corridors to carry bags of garbage, and not break a sweat. He felt hot and breathless from the hard work, but he couldn't sweat anymore. "I don't want to kiss you later and have you smell like stale coffee and bleach," Michael explained, putting one hand on his waist and the other to loosen the hoodie he was wearing, shaking the fabric of the collar so that a breeze of air would cool his dead body.

"Oh yeah, then I'll have to smell that on you later," you laugh, not at all convinced by Michael's explanation. "I don't want your sister to be traumatized by the stink she'll smell when you get home," Michael says, his voice carrying a provocative tone, which makes you smile once again.

Michael looked extremely attractive right now, even with his face covered. The fabric of the hoodie really helped with the masterpiece in front of you, making no effort to hide the man's physique, apart from the fact that, with the movement he was making with the fabric, you could see a bit of bandage around his abdomen. You had discovered yet another feature of your sexual preference with Michael, finding the bandages he wore on his hands extremely attractive, even if you didn't understand why he wore them. A good amount of time had passed since the episode in the control room, and honestly, all you wanted now was to have the opportunity to feel Michael like that again.

"Doll, I'm going to throw this shit away and finish the auditorium tomorrow, I need to sort out the fucking toilet by today," Michael announces, picking up the bags again. You nod positively, "I like it when you call me that," you say with a fond smile on your face, happy to have Michael working with you, it really managed to distract you from the fact that the two of you were cleaning up the mess of the policemen - policemen who had come to investigate a murder.

"Brings back good memories, right?" Michael's voice echoed through the corridors, the malice evident in his tone, but he missed the opportunity to see your cheeks blush and your eyes close in shyness. But your face bore a smile, good memories indeed.

You took the opportunity that Michael had taken on the task of cleaning and unclogging the toilet to check the Scooping Room. Over the last few days, you had called the company a few times, explaining the situation of the robot forgotten in the establishment. The secretary had been polite to you, but she repeated that there was no record of the animatronic you were describing, an animatronic with several exposed wires and white plates forming a face that held a hat on top. You were confused by the situation, which she tried to explain could be some robot from another establishment or an export error by the construction company. The secretary explained that they were swamped with demands from the redesign of this facility and the lawyers who were handling the lawsuit over Noah's death, so she couldn't give you a definite date of when someone would pick up the lost animatronic.

So, walking quickly through the Funtime auditorium, avoiding looking at any traces of blood or, frankly, anywhere other than the small door of the Scooping Room, you decide to check on the animatronic, even to see if the police had removed it or done anything to the robot. When you enter the dark room, the animatronic is no longer next to the door, which makes you think almost immediately that it must have been removed, but as soon as your eyes get used to the darkness of the room, you can see the animatronic standing next to the large scooper in the middle of the room.

The animatronic was positioned in a creepy way, its arms, which were tubes and tubes of wires, were next to its metallic body, with its eyes turned towards the door, where you were standing. Next to him was the large scooper, which you assumed was for rebuilding or destroying the robots. "Well, it looks like they left you right here," you vocalized in a low voice, making sure Michael didn't hear any noise coming from the auditorium. The animatronic was submerged in the darkness of the place, the open door with the low lighting of the auditorium didn't do your vision any justice, you could only see the white plates that formed the robot's face and the long tubes that escaped from the metal body. Some dark spots were on the animatronic's white face, which made you think that the policemen must have moved the robot and let some coffee drip onto the plates. You were still amazed at the lack of care the investigators had shown with the establishment.

When you hear footsteps in the corridor and Michael's voice calling your name accompanied by some complaints about the smell in the bathroom, you immediately close the door to the scooping room and practically run through the auditorium, taking care not to bump into anything and cause a loud sound that would attract Michael's attention. "Y/n, let's close up and leave, I can't stand that stink any longer, tomorrow I'll bring a gas mask to keep cleaning the bathroom," Michael says, as he walks towards Ballora's gallery, but quickly notices that you are no longer there. "Y/n?" Michael says louder, wanting to hear an answer from you before he turns this establishment upside down, creating more chaos than the policemen left behind.

"I'm here," you reply as you run down the corridors to meet Michael. "Where did you go? Finished with the boxes?" the man asks as soon as he sees you running towards him, his hood hiding the frown of concern that has formed on his eyebrows. "I went to have a look in the auditorium, but I came running when I heard your call," you explain, placing your hand on the old walls of the corridor, trying to calm your breathing. Well, it wasn't entirely a lie, but you still felt bad about lying in front of Michael, especially about a subject he clearly felt strongly about.

"Hm, you could have told me," Michael replied, crossing his arms, "It's okay, next time, just let me know before you go to the auditorium, I don't like the thought of you alone in that place," the man explained, his husky voice filling your ears with a tone of distress.

"It's okay, Michael," you responded, smiling awkwardly due to the shortness of breath you were still feeling. "Let's go, you need a shower," your attempts to calm your breathing allowed you to inhale deeply of the reek that covered the man at that moment. Honestly, you were relieved that he had offered to clean the bathroom, you wouldn't put up with that smell for a second before vomiting.

"Wow, look what a gentleman gets for cleaning the bathroom for a girl," Michael imitates a sad voice, "Get used to the smell, doll, you'll have to cling to me on the bike on the way home," the man adds, letting out a small laugh while your face contorts into a disgusted expression. "Honestly, I'd rather walk," you admit to the man in front of you, who, upon hearing your statement, lets out another laugh, this time more sincere and louder than the first.

"I'll walk with you then," Michael starts heading towards the auditorium, moving past you, while your figure is still leaning against the same wall, trying to rest your body from the effort you've exerted today. "I'm going to lock the rooms, wait for me here so we can head down together," he said, stroking your hair gently as he came across your clumsy figure, still leaning against the wall. Your gaze was on the floor, giving Michael free access to run his fingers through the strands of your hair, which were shiny with sweat and a little messy. For Michael, it was another reminder that your body was alive, your body was warm, sweating and flushed red, unlike the cold, purple fingers of the dead man.

You nod positively at him, feeling the touch of careful fingers in your hair go away, accompanied by the sound of Michael's footsteps once again echoing through the corridors. The wall was strangely comfortable for you, so as Michael had asked, you didn't move, letting your whole body lean against the wall as you waited for Michael to return and leave.

The man does his task quickly, locking all the rooms that had been opened in the investigation and checking if the ones that remained locked were properly closed. Arriving at the auditorium, Michael moves in hurried steps towards the door that was so familiar from his nightmares. Now he and Noah shared the same place of death. No matter how much his steps faltered or how much his dead heart screamed at him to get away from that door, he always checked to see if it was closed. It seemed that his soul recognized the place, as all the organs that were no longer active in his lifeless body twitched and writhed in pain. Michael unconsciously raised his hand to protect his abdomen, an unnecessary and useless action for his current situation. His stomach had already been ripped open, all his organs had already been expelled onto the floor, Michael's survival instinct had nothing left to protect.

Even though his hand was shaking, he reached out for the handle, which, to make matters worse for Michael, was open. At that moment, the fear ceased, the feeling of rage and revenge taking over Michael's entire body, already expecting to find Ennard behind that door. He couldn't risk leaving that door open, not with you here, not with your figure standing a few meters away from this room. The door swung open abruptly and violently, the dust that guarded the entrance flying everywhere given the room's lack of use.

There was no one there. Or rather, there was no animatronic. The room was dark, but Michael could draw this room with his eyes closed, he didn't need light, the memory that terrified him every night would help him navigate the room. The man wasn't stupid, he knew and had experience with the way animatronics hid, so he made a point of checking every corner or square meter of the small space. Michael felt his soul almost jump out of his body once again as he stood inside the Scooper Room, recognizing that it was here that he had lost his life, it was in this small space that Michael didn't see the light, Michael didn't hear, see or feel anything for the first time in his life. At least, he couldn't feel anything after he felt the large piece of metal puncture his stomach. He couldn't hear anything after his ear almost bled from his own screams. Ennard was the last vision he had.

Ennard wasn't here. Michael felt selfish for being relieved, at least, he didn't want to imagine how he would deal with knowing that Ennard was in the establishment at the same time as you were. However, that meant it was somewhere else, loose on the streets of this city in search of a corpse to dress, just as he had done with Michael.

The man quickly closes the door, locking it before going to meet you.

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember 2023 Day 2: Brain Drain

I have committed Our Flag Means Death fanfiction! I am so sorry. Stede/Ed, Ed/Izzy, somehow happy poly and happy metamours making a lovely vee. Takes place in some AU season 2 where the last arc of the season never happened. Izzy is living his best happy masochist life.

Author knows fuck all about ships.

Izzy had gotten much more comfortable spending time with his shipmates since the Calypso's birthday incident.

There was nothing like a round of torture to bring a crew together, he thought.

Tonight the whole group had gathered in the galley under the ship, laughing and chatting long past when they usually went into their quarters for the evening. The sea had been calm that day and the mood was social. Everyone seemed quite relaxed.

Only two members were missing.

Oluwande looked up from his cuddle pile with Jim and Archie. He seemed to have read Izzy's mind. "Hey," he called out to the gathered group, "Has anyone seen the captains this evening?"

"No!" a few people responded.

"Thank God," snarked Black Pete. "Blackbeard...well Ed has been freaking me out. Yelled at me earlier about trimming the sails and you KNOW I keep them the trimmest, babe," he said to his partner Lucius.

"Yeah, he snarled at me when I told him 'hello' earlier," said Archie. "Like this!" She contorted her face into a frankly over-the-top grimace. "Made me nearly jump out of my skin. I may have heard him yell at some seagulls too? Or dolphins?"

Roach looked worried. "Neither captain has come down for dinner, yet," he said.

"Perhaps they are...occupied in the captain's quarters," speculated Izzy.

"Oh? Feeling left out, are you?" joked Frenchie, the little shit. Izzy tactfully ignored him.

Roach replied, still concerned. "Captain Stede will usually come down and request provisions in advance if they're having a long night alone," said Roach. "Thinks he's being sneaky, says they need extra energy 'for planning raids.'"

"My room is below theirs. Trust me, they've not been buggering today," piped up Wee John. "Unless they've learned to be much more quiet about it."

"Maybe they've gotten into a spat and someone's gotten pushed off the ship," spat Lucius. "That'll happen with him, you know."

"OK, that's enough," said Izzy, trying to regain control over the situation as everyone began to talk at once. "You're like gossipy fishwives, all of you. I'll go check on the captains. Make sure Bonnet's not running the ship into a cliff or something."

Izzy climbed up the stairs and started to look around the ship. Ed and Stede weren't in the captain's quarters (being quiet for once). There was no sign of them on the deck. He even craned his neck up to the bird's nest and checked. No captains there.

He finally spotted them at the back of the ship- on a little bit of the stern mostly hidden from view. They were both sitting facing out at the ocean. From a distance, Izzy could see Stede's arm was bent around Ed's shoulder, his hand occasionally reaching up to rock Ed's drooped head into slow, almost imperceptible little circles. Aside from the rocking, Ed's body was remarkably still. It was a huge change from the tense, coiled menace that Ed's frame had carried earlier in the day. Now, he looked almost like a puppet with his strings cut, only responding to Stede's guidance. His arms rested gently besides his legs, lax and pliant.

Izzy could hear Bonnett speaking in a low, soothing voice near Ed's ear but he was too far to make out any words.

Ed had mentioned mesmerism to Izzy before. It was one of the many upperclass daliances that Bonnet had introduced him to- one of those many trifling hobbies that Izzy would never begin to understand the appeal of. Izzy even knew that Bonnet had used his skills on Ed previously. His captain confided that Bonnett's fancy mesmerism routine had helped him find quiet during his not-infrequent emotional storms, that it evened out his seemingly uncontrollable highs and lows. In Izzy's mind, he had pictured the whole thing looking quite comical- Bonnett with wiggly fingers staring daggers into Ed's eyes (maybe with rays), Edward swooning and fainting away in response like a lady whose corset was too tight.

This was quieter than what he had pictured. Gentle. Intimate, even. As he looked over at the scene, he had the sudden feeling that perhaps he shouldn't intrude.

He began to walk away when Stede turned his head and look directly at him. Izzy froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Stede quietly waved him over to where the couple was sitting.

As Izzy approached, he began to get a closer look at Ed's face. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed. His chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. As he come closer, he noticed Ed's eyes were making little flickers underneath his eyelids like he was dreaming.

Izzy wondered what dreams were happening below those lids.

Ed's brows furrowed a bit as Izzy came closer, picking up the noise.

Stede stroked a reassuring hand through his hair. He spoke in his ear, this time loud enough so Izzy could hear: "Shhhhhhh sweetness. It's OK. Relax. You're not in charge right now, remember? Just rest."

Ed's expression immediately cleared. He let held breath with a sigh.

"Izzy's here," Stede continued. "He and I are going to have a chat for a bit. But you don't have to pay attention to that right now, ok? Just drift. Why don't you see how deep you can count yourself down for me while we talk? I'll be right here. I'll touch your leg when it's time for you to listen to me again, ok?"

Ed gave a slight, dreamy nod. His lips barely moved as he began to count silently.

Seemingly satisfied, Stede gestured for Izzy to sit and moved over closer to him.

Izzy sat down, still staring at Ed's lax face. Somehow that by itself was just fascinating. Ed seemed so vulnerable and bare right now. Izzy wasn't sure if he should feel honored or spooked.

"He had a bad day," Stede said gently, nodding over to their entranced boyfriend. "You know how he gets. He needed out of his head for a bit."

Izzy DID understand how Ed got- probably more than his dandyish captain ever would. Hopefully more that Stede ever would, he corrected himself. Ed had certainly told his other boyfriend at least a bit about the hurricane that had been his and Izzy's relationship in the past. When times were bad, they had only known how to take their energy out on each other. They bit and snarled and scratched at one another just to drown out all the noise inside. Izzy had always assumed Ed had NEEDED all of that- needed to hurt and make Izzy suffer the same way that Izzy needed to hurt and suffer for him. That's how they worked. That's who they were together.

Since arriving on the Revenge, though, Izzy had seen more and more of the hidden soft side of Blackbeard. The side that enjoyed fancy clothes and fine foods. The side that kissed Stede's cheek sweetly when he didn't think anyone else was looking. The side that, even now, sat loose and drifting and unguarded while his two boyfriends stayed by him and had a chat.

"Can he hear us?" Izzy asked Stede, curiously.

Stede smiled. "He can hear us, he's just..focused elsewhere right now. Mesmerism's not a magic spell, it's more like- a nice version of where Ed's brain goes when he's navigating. Or how he is when he's trying to sniff out a storm."

Izzy was familiar with his captain's tendency to tune everything out while trying to read the sea. He pictured the absolute, unshakeable concentration of his focused gaze. "Only with nice, clear skies?"

Stede nodded. "Only with nice clear skies." He looked fondly at Ed's dreaming face. "No rain. Nothing to worry about right now." He had dropped into a lighter, dreamy tone- and for a moment, Izzy wasn't sure if he was still speaking to Ed or Izzy or even somehow mesmerizing himself.

Izzy had seen many things in his travels. He once heard a street charlatan talk about mesmerism- saying mesmerism somehow balanced out a person's magnetic forces (y'know- whatever magnetic forces were). He wasn't one for all of Stede's little tricks but- he did understand about needing balance.

Izzy had initially misunderstood Ed's relationship to Stede. He worried that the gentleman pirate would make Ed weak. That he would seduce him away. That he would try to turn the great Blackbeard into one of Stede's fancy little gentleman friends. Izzy had been terrified there would be nothing left of the Ed that he loved after Stede was through.

But Ed was still Izzy's Ed, even now. He could still fight and outwit and outmaneuver anyone else on the sea. He would still protect his crew with all the fierceness of his notorious reputation. He and Izzy could still lose themselves in each other- in their old married couple bickering, in their fighting and fucking, in their indulgences of Ed's sadism and Izzy's corresponding masochism. It just- felt more controlled now. Izzy no longer wondered if Ed actually hated him or if he was just looking for someone convenient to break. He no longer worried that Blackbeard would maim him so badly that he couldn't look after the crew. Even when Ed hurt him now- and he WOULD still hurt him, Stede didn't magic that part away- Izzy was always rewarded with a kiss and some praise afterwards. "That's so good, Izzy. You did so well for me," he would say. Edward seemed so much stronger in these moments now- able to control his own fierceness and use it as a weapon- but also to hold Izzy as he fell apart for him.

Izzy looked over at Ed's quiet countenance- so different than before. It was otherworldy seeing him this serene and distant. He had a sudden desire to protect this version of Ed- Stede's gentle Ed. To keep him safe. A mad, possessive impulse made it to Izzy's mouth before he could stop it.

"Can I touch him?" he asked. "Like this?"

Stede looked surprised. "By touch, do you mean....?"

"His face, Bonnet" Izzy replied, snarkily. "Or his hand or something. His hair. Not going to wank him off on the deck, now am I?"

Stede bit back a laugh. He leaned over to gently touch Ed's leg.

Ed reacted with an almost imperceptible startle before gently settling- serene like the moon going back behind a cloud.

"Shhh- that's OK, love, you can stay relaxed. Good," Stede soothed. "Izzy was wondering if he could touch you while you're in trance. Would that be OK?"

Ed took a moment to respond, as though the words were reaching him from a great distance. Then he nodded his assent.

Stede smiled back at Izzy, reassuringly. Izzy took a breath- then reached over to slowly stroke Ed's hair.

His fearsome Blackbeard smiled in return to the gesture- giving a happy little murmur. He slightly leaned his head in. Just like an affectionate kitten, Izzy thought.

"Good," soothed Bonnet at Ed. "I bet that feels nice."

Izzy grinned too, feeling oddly proud to be trusted with this quiet moment. He and Ed had never been conventional. Maybe it was OK that Ed and Stede weren't either. Maybe it was ok that their relationships were so different- that they saw such different aspects of the same person.

Maybe it was all ok.

Maybe it all balanced.

They sat quietly for a long moment on the deck, letting the peace of the atmosphere soothe them.

Gradually Stede stirred. "Izzy- I forgot to ask: Did the men send you? Were they looking for us?"

"There's no emergency, they were just curious where you were," replied Izzy.

Stede nodded. "We should probably get back, then. Or at least get off deck. Love," he said, moving his voice back into that hypnotic tone. He touched Ed's leg to refocus him. "Are you ready to come up out of trance for me?"

Ed took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good, I'll count to 5 then. It's just to guide you- I know you know how to come up at your own pace. Bring back any of this peace and calm that you want with you, ok?"

Stede started counting- his voice slowly gaining energy as he reminded Ed to connect back with his body and helped him reorient to the ship. It all didn't seem particularly magical to Izzy- but then again he rarely tried to understand Bonnet's ways anyway. Ed finally blinked his eyes open when Stede reached 5.

He blinked a few more times, adjusting. Then, his gaze lost it's bleariness as he looked adoringly up at Stede.

"Hi, there," said Stede, smiling gently. "Back with us, love?"

"Mmmmph mostly," said Ed, scritching his beard and stretching to rouse himself. He looked over at Izzy as though reminding himself he was there and smiled. "Heya, Izz!" Ed leaned up to kiss him.

Izzy grinned into their kiss. "Heya, Captain. Didn't want to interrupt your little daydream session. Crew was just looking for you."

"Ah, we missed dinner!" exclaimed Stede. "I should have asked Roach for..."

"Provisions for planning raids, I heard," smirked Izzy. "Yes, we're all very snowed by your clever euphemisms."

"Fuck provisions, I could eat a horse," said Ed. He practically bounced up and put an arm around both of his boyfriends. "C'mon, let's get some grub!"

Helpless to his whims as always, both of his partners joyfully followed him to dinner.

Fanfic is new to me so would love some thoughts! Also this is unbeta'd so will love you forever if you would point out spelling/grammar mistakes or if there's unclear writing. I'm considering posting this to AO3 but- don't want to embarrass myself in front of the REAL fanfic writers, you know? Feedback welcomed!

Tagging @mentat101posts and @thekinkycocktailclub .If you want to be tagged in these, just lmk!

Tagging @darthkyra @linnybeenaughty @pearlqueensposts @thiskenisftm @deeperforme because they wanted OFMD hypnokink and I blame/thank you for the inspiration to actually get this down!

[guiltycorp]

Interesting thoughts on the haruspex route btw! I’d def say I like the route but it’s my least favourite and doesn’t make me as insane as the other two. I think the most interesting thing about the haruspex route for is me is comparing it to the bachelor route and the idea that ignorance is bliss as Artemy doesn’t question his actions and does them out of duty yet despite neglecting the issues of the town he seems to be happier and I find it painfully real. Also I’m glad you noted him having issues with toxic masculinity because yeah I agree. I also think his route feels the most like a stereotypical straightforward hero journy he even gets to defeat the “bad guy” by the end of it. I haven’t played patho2 yet but I’m curious to see what they do differently with it

Thank you, yeah I also appreciated how it's a funny contrast in that he just kind of knows he will be able to make a panacea, just needs to figure out the exact components with the Bachelor's and the Kin's help, it's all kind of step by step, a hero's journey without the refusal of the call or any real ordeals. Even when he gets into a difficult situation with Oyun's final trial he can easily go and have other people fix it for him... Meanwhile the Bachelor is truly down in the trenches and doesn't even achieve anything by himself at all rip. And yes huh, even when Artemy doesn't sidestep organizational work or politics (like arranging the future marriage between Olgimskys and Kains) he doesn't actually seem to care about it much? I was almost surprised when he actually got upset when learning about being a puppet, like why would you care my dude, you are happy enough to be everyone's tool in-game so the meta layer doesn't make that much of a difference. He should have asked the Powers That Be what they intended his father's wishes to be exactly haha... Hmm, that's another thing P2 does better imo, both in terms of his group of children and the Kin the relationships are just more apparent and important to the player. And failing is an actual possibility that is a valid game path. I hope you enjoy it! It's also just an actually fun game to play lmao.

[raphaelesbian]

"Sacando está análisis pequeño y tonto sobre el fanfic Puppet Tightly Strung (mi fanfic favorito) / Noose Loosely Wound Sobre la metáfora de que si Rafael es una marioneta, que sería K"Lo escribí con ayuda de la IA, una de esas personitas que no sabe expresarse con

Rafael es como una marioneta con hilos visibles que lo hacen bailar a su antojo. Es consciente de los hilos que lo controlan, pero no puede escapar de ellos.

Karai es como un muñeco de cuerda que cree poder moverse por sí misma, pero sin darse cuenta de que le han dado cuerda. Aunque piensa tener el control sobre sus acciones y pensamientos, en realidad está siendo controlada de manera sutil por el Gusano Cerebral. La cuerda en su espalda no es visible para ella, pero funciona igual, estando siempre presente y manipulando sus movimientos y decisiones.

Ambos son muñecos distintos que se manejan y se cuidan de forma diferente, pero al final del día, ambos fueron muñecos controlados por el mismo titiritero/juguetero.

No sé si debía sacar esta comparación de mi cabeza, pero originalmente iba a hacer un fanart con esta idea. Sin embargo, no sé hacer dibujos digitales y no soy tan buena dibujando. Pero amo este fanfic, así que de alguna manera tenía que espresar esta idea

Me preguntaba si tu tenías alguna comparación para karai ?

(Translation below the cut. I literally just used google translate so please correct me if it's wrong!)

Sorry for taking so long to reply! This was a very good question and I had to think on it. First of all, thank you so much!! I'm so happy to hear that PTS is your favorite fic, that genuinely means a lot <3 <3 I would LOVE to see any art that you make, don't sell yourself short!!! But I also love receiving analyses like this <3

I think you have a very apt analogy! I had never thought of Karai as being a wind-up doll, but it's a very good way to look at it, and the difference between the two of them. Raph's brain worm experience was very much the worms as an external force of control, vs. Karai's being internal and invisible to herself. I'm not sure I can come up with a better comparison than the one you made, to be quite honest!

Since you were sweet enough to send this really cool breakdown to me, I can offer up some more symbolism for you though! Noose Loosely Wound, the title is meant to be the inverse in a way of Puppet Tightly Strung. Where, in PTS, Raph had no choice in either his actions or the fact he was bound in the first place, in NLW it is entirely up to him. The noose is slack—if he backs up, or stays still, he'll be fine. But if he continues forward, on the path he's chosen with Karai, it tightens.

And, in this situation, Karai is kind of... not so much holding the rope, but drawing him forward. I started a drawing based on that whole concept, though it didn't get far (I couldn't get the posing down XD)

Under this kind of metaphor though, it's important to recognize that the two of them are very much tied together. As Raph's noose tightens, so does Karai's, and yet they both continue to draw the each other deeper into danger. It's a toxic, codependent relationship!

Idk if any of that was interesting 😅 But thank you again for the message!!! I really appreciated it, and I hope you continue to enjoy the fic <3 <3

"Pulling out this silly little analysis on the fanfic Puppet Tightly Strung (my favorite fanfic) / Noose Loosely Wound About the metaphor that if Rafael is a puppet, what would be K" I wrote it with the help of the AI, one of those little people who does not know how to express himself

Rafael is like a puppet with visible strings that make him dance as he pleases. He is aware of the threads that control him, but he cannot escape them.

Karai is like a wind-up doll who thinks she can move on her own, but without realizing that she has been wound up. Although she thinks she has control over her actions and thoughts, she is actually being subtly controlled by the Brain Worm. The rope on her back is not visible to her, but it works the same, always being present and manipulating her movements and decisions.

They are both different dolls that are handled and cared for differently, but at the end of the day, they were both dolls controlled by the same puppeteer/toymaker.

I don't know if I should get this comparison out of my head, but I was originally going to make fanart with this idea. However, I don't know how to do digital drawings and I'm not that good at drawing. But I love this fanfic, so I had to express this idea somehow

I was wondering if you had any comparisons for karai?

[wakkass]

Hey! First off i really love your art, it has so much expression and personality❤️💕

I saw your post critisizing Kataras look in season 3 and how they don’t let her show her weaker and more tired self, and tend to pretty her up compared to the rest to make her “more favourable to aang” I don’t really agree on that point and want to add my own two cents.

-

Both Aang and Katara have seen each other at their best and worst, mentally, physically, emotionally and totally wrecked from exhaustion and have supported each other through it.

Examples at the top of my head for katara:

-in the waterbending master when fighting pakku her hair gets messy and breathing becomea rigid and at no point lets go of her (fierce and justified) anger towards him, aang watches them and cheers for her through it (“Go Katara!”) Also not forgetting how he doesn’t want to be taught by pakku if he won’t teach her.

-in the chase all the gaang are exhausted beyond point and katara snaps multiple times, when trying to confront toph, aang attempts calming her down but she has her “IM COMPLETELY CALM” reaction and aang decides to back away. I see it as him respecting her anger and frustration and understanding she needs space atm.

-the desert all the gaang are not themselves and katara takes over as the leader in that situation, aang is incredibly distraught and furious about losing appa and it’s katara that manages to get everyone back on track, esprcially aang.

- this leads to the serpent’s pass where aang in return regrets his outburst at the sand benders and understand and appreciates kataras effort for what she did back there for all of them, esprcially him in his pure rage.

-the puppet master, katara forcibly learns bloodbending and is distraught over this fact. It’s a very brief moment in the last few seconds but she breaks down and aang and sokka comfort her without any words said and let katara hurt in that moment without any pressure to get it together.

-the southern raiders we see her at her possible worst and aang sees it too. He fully understand her anger and that she needs this journey to heal but doesn’t want her to lose herself by killing the man because it would destroy her to take a life even if he deserved it. Aang empathsizes with her and he is happy she was able to come to her own conclusion despite the pain thr both felt (her going through all these emotions and him seeing her not being herself at that moment before)

-

Phew sorry that was so wordy lol. Apologies^^”

I also think the show lets her be messy and not “perfect” in scenes without aang too (hakoda and her in S3EP1) but i know that wasnt ur og point.

I totally think the show can be critisized with certain designs tho tbf i don’t blame aang personally for blushing at her when she is really pretty, it is his crush and he is a boy in puberty. He loves her at her best looking times and messiest times (whether thats her emotional or physical state) and always shows it through words and other means of affection.

To end this needlessly long ask I agree with some of what u said but i wanted to add my own thoughts because i couldn’t get myself to agree on others. Sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes!

I love analytical posts and how they keep the gears in my head moving. Thank you very much for, firstly, reading my posts, it’s very nice. It’s immediately obvious that you also read the hashtags :3

Thank you for the compliments on my drawings, it’s very nice to hear 💖❤️💖

And, secondly, for writing your post and sending it to me, considering the idea from different angles and complementing it.

I want to say right away: no one is obliged to agree with me for the simple reason that each of us has his own interpretation of this series. It's too ambiguous to have only one true reading, and therefore the difference in points of view complements each other. It's IMPORTANT for us to have different opinions and help each other see different sides of interpretation :3

The phrase itself from the series is wonderfully suitable here, I can’t say it better:

It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If we take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations, will help you become whole... It can make you more powerful.

Regarding Katara’s fatigue, I said in hashtags here that it was only shown in two episodes: “The Desert” and “The Southern Raiders.” As you can see, @leanniera gave a few more examples, and I just want to leave them on my wall as part of the theme.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 23

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

I just can't stop running away I don't remember my name, I don't know where to go anymore… It's not my fault but I can't really do much These creepy monsters have me in their clutch

~Astray by Scraton~

“Speaking of bets—wait a second!” Mike exclaimed as everyone moved to the exit. He snatched Gregory under the arms as he ran past, using the momentum to toss the kid in the air and catch him with a laugh. “I promised Gregory he could ride on my shoulders if he beat me at a game—help him get situated, Fredbear?”

Freddy nodded, the grin on his face still prominent as he secured Gregory on Mike’s shoulders. Thankfully the boy didn’t seem to mind being handled so much at the moment—probably because this was a display of his prior victory, if his smug smirk was anything to go by.

“Alright, hold on tight—if you wiggle too much and fall off, that’s on you,” Michael joked. Holding onto Gregory’s legs to keep him steady, he stooped low to follow Charlie out the door, Freddy trailing closely behind.

Gregory barely had to lock his legs, as the robotic brother he always wanted was suited with a gyroscope to maintain balance. His hands gently rested atop Michael’s head, and Gregory made sure to acknowledge Freddy with a brief, “Thanks, Dad!” before they reentered the Pizzaplex and had to act like nothing more than a kid and his favorite robot.

“If you get an extra-large trench coat, do you think we could sneak into a movie?” Charlie asked, making fun of that old trope of two kids sitting on each other’s shoulders to worm their way into places.

“Hmm… you know, we just might be able to,” Mike conceded, glancing upside-down at Gregory for a second, before looking to Freddy with a questioning brow. “Does this place actually have a movie theater?”

“Yes—it is in the Daycare,” Freddy replied, keeping pace as they walked. “It doubles as a stage for live shows as well.”

“Huh… I’m not surprised.” Mike let out a short laugh, shaking his head gently so as not to dislodge Gregory’s hands.

As they walked past day staff, the group was met with even more confused looks than before. This was for two main reasons: as expected, people silently wondered why Freddy was out of his room, though no one was brave enough to question it. Mike reasoned that only Sophie might have the confidence to do that.

The other reason for the stares was because people were shocked to see the Afton heirs looking so happy—Michael’s reputation in particular had traveled fast in a short span of time, and those he came across were surprised to see him without a scowl or toothy smirk, let alone carrying around his cousin on his shoulders. Perhaps he wasn’t as cold as they’d been initially informed.

It both confused and delighted the staff to see the administration in a better mood. As long as Sophie didn’t see the group traveling with Freddy, they’d have a smooth outing with Papa Bear.

Despite the Daycare being a place for babies, Gregory wouldn’t mind falling asleep on those comfy, soft cushions—as long as Moon was locked out of the room forever, of course. It felt nice to be tall for once, too. He now towered over Charlie and by extension, Michael. He could even see over Freddy’s top hat.

All the workers looked at him with what Gregory assumed to be envy. They wished one of their friends was the pretend boss of this place and giving them piggyback rides!

Their happiness only grew upon entering the West Arcade. A hypnotic beat that pumped out of the speakers made Gregory somewhat antsy, so he played with Michael’s hair to cope with the thudding he felt in his chest. Charlie ran ahead to see who this DJ was, only to stop in her tracks as she rounded the corner. The sheer size of this animatronic alone had her frozen in place.

The DJ was awake, happily jamming out in his own world. One of his many arms was pressed against his headphones, while two others adjusted various knobs and dials on the soundboards. In this rare moment of downtime, he was working on some new remixes of popular, kid-appropriate songs that he’d excitedly show off to the next guests so they could dance their hearts out.

“Holy—” Michael cut his words off with a twisted frown, not liking the sight of the humongous, multi-limbed animatronic one bit. His grip on Gregory’s legs clamped down protectively, ready to bolt with the kid on his shoulders if that thing so much as looked at them funny. Freddy, on the other hand, wasn’t phased in the slightest.

“Hello, DJ!” the bear called, waving as he stepped onto the flashing, multi-colored dance floor. A cloud of fog swirled around Freddy’s feet, the smoke pumped into the room from machines set low to the ground to add to the party atmosphere. Upon catching sight of the bright orange bear, Music Man turned down the volume of his tunes and shifted to face him, his grin wide and static.

“Heeeey, Freddy!” The DJ’s voice was booming, acting as bass in its own right. It filled the room, made to be heard over the music at all times. As he spoke, his tone was slow and smooth, elongating certain words in what could best be described in a “chill” drawl. “I haven’t seen you in foreeeeever! Where’ve you been?!”

“I am sorry I have not had the opportunity to visit,” Freddy apologized, partially avoiding the question. He gestured to the trio lingering hesitantly at the edge of the dance floor, as far away from the huge spider-like animatronic as they could be without actually standing in a different room. “But I have some new friends for you to meet!”

Thank goodness he’s friendly, Charlie thought as she let out a long breath. She came closer towards the stage as they spoke, both impressed and horrified someone thought this monster of a robot was a good idea. Charlie felt as though the Music Man series was always so divisive amongst the children. They either loved the guys or hated them outright.

Gregory had gazed on to the DJ that towered before them, and was glad that at least in the morning, he really is a nice guy.

“Hey man, did you know you’re GIGANTIC?” Gregory asked, not in a way that came off as disparaging, but more in surprise. He just couldn’t comprehend how or why they needed a giant arachnid disc jockey. As long as the DJ remained cool, Gregory could be friends with the guy. “That’s rad; you’re like a spider!”

“Thaaaaanks, little man!” the DJ replied, his voice echoing through the room. It was loud, but somehow designed with just the right pitch not to blow out kids' eardrums—they had the music itself to do that.

“This Gregory, Michael, and Charlie,” Freddy informed the huge animatronic, gesturing for the boys to join Charlie and him near the stage. Slowly, Mike inched forward, clearly more nervous about the animatronic than Gregory. Once they reached the comfort of Freddy's side, the bear patted Michael's back reassuringly. “Do not be alarmed—Music Man may be large, but he is harmless!”

“Yeah, I'm not gonna hurt you!” the DJ reassured, though he tilted his head slightly as if in thought. “Althouuuuugh, I can understand people being nervous...” Usually it would be the little kids that looked like they might throw up at the sight of him, but in this case it seemed to be the boy's guardian. Wanting to avoid a biohazard incident on the dance floor, the DJ moved one of his many hands to a soundboard. “I could play you some tunes, if it'd make you feel better. What kinda music are you into? I've got a huuuuuuuge library!”

“OOH! Oh! Play Electric Light Orchestra!” Charlie shouted, feeling a sort of kinship with the DJ having been a very strange looking animatronic for most of her existence. She remembered hearing the song Showdown once at a roller rink, and she’d never been the same afterwards.

Gregory made a face, having never heard of the half-century old band. He’d shout a suggestion afterwards—if he really knew any bands. Unfortunately he hadn’t been given the opportunity to really explore music with his home life. So, instead, Gregory was forced to insist: “No! Play something that isn’t old people music!”

“Hey, that isn't 'old people music!'“ Michael scoffed, offended. His love of rock now winning out over his nerves, he looked up at the huge spider animatronic and requested: “Play some Guns n' Roses! Oh, or Journey, or Queen, or...”

Freddy let out a soft sigh as Mike began rambling off various bands, finding the argument more endearing than anything. Music Man gave a booming laugh, shaking the dance floor with the force of it.

“Tell you what,” the DJ said after a moment. “You're aaaaaall in luck—I can make a custom remix with oldies and newbies. There's a toooons of songs sampling 80s music these days, so I can find lots of things that gel perfectly!”

“...I suppose that'd be a good compromise; what do you think?” Michael questioned, glancing upside-down at Gregory, who in turn patted his fluffy mop of hair.

“Do the remix!” Gregory agreed, much to Charlie’s intrigue. Anything involving music she knew would probably be fine with her. She came to stand by him and Michael, holding her arms out.

“You wanna come down and dance, Gregory?” she asked, and though the boy readily accepted her offer to help him down, he made a face.

“Uh, I don’t dance.” Or rather, he didn’t know how to.

“Me neither,” Michael added quickly, cheekbones flushing as he shot Charlie a look that told her to keep quiet. Many a time had she caught him rocking out in his room to various metal bands, playing air guitar with a broom and pretending he was the rockstar he always dreamed of. But to the outside world he was too cool to dance, and this mindset still carried over after all this time. Besides, he hadn't tried such a thing in decades, so even if he did want to show off some moves he'd surely be rusty. In an effort to divert attention, Michael turned to the animatronic bear and asked: “Are you programmed to dance, Freddy?”

Charlie looked at Michael, surprised he'd even say that to her. She could recall several instances where she found him head banging, thrashing and pretending he was a rockstar. Those were funny memories, and she’d keep them to herself for now as she bit back a smile.

“To an extent, yes,” Freddy replied, realizing that Mike and Charlie hadn't actually seen one of the Fazbear Band performances yet. He wasn't sure if Gregory witnessed one before either. Hopefully, someday when things were put back to the way they should be, Freddy could see his family in the crowd. “I only have a set amount of moves, however, and they correspond to various songs I perform. I am not quite equipped to dance as you would in this sort of 'freeform' environment.”

“He's tried before, though!” Music Man piped up, still tuned into their conversation despite controlling three of his hands to get this remix programmed as soon as possible. The DJ let out another laugh as Freddy's eyes widened in what could only be likened to embarrassment. “It's sooooo funny watching Freddy try and bust a move! Oh, and put him and Monty together? Now that's hilaaaaarious!”

Charlie never danced very well at all. When she was a Puppet, Charlie was on a set of strings to make her dance. Even that was more like wiggling than anything remotely coordinated. But she shrugged anyway, setting Gregory down and nearly losing him in the fog immediately. Gosh, he was too short to go to a rave.

As Music Man mentioned Monty, Gregory looked somewhat nervous. He didn't think it was anyone's goal to let their new acquaintance get upset with the current MIA status of his friend.

“Oh, I bet!” Gregory lied, easily. “I can't wait to see that when the place opens up again...”

“We will be sure to visit,” Freddy said, making a promise to everyone here. This horrible situation couldn’t last forever.

No—Freddy wouldn’t let it.

Before long William would be defeated, his friends would be back in commission, and Michael, Charlie, and Gregory could finally have a normal day in the Pizzaplex, experiencing everything as it was meant to be.

While Freddy tracked Gregory through the misty dance floor, Mike couldn’t help his attention being pulled to the other side of the arcade where he’d spotted some games upon their arrival. A bright grin lit up his face as the first notes of Another One Bites the Dust blasted through the speakers. He could already tell this mashup was going to be a good one.

“Oh my god…” Charlie nearly swooned, she’d missed listening to Queen so much. The new tempo and beat made it fresh and exciting. “I want to go to a Queen concert…”

Gregory passed, kicking up the heavy fog in his path as he glanced up questioningly. “Huh? Isn’t the front man dead?”

“You mean Freddie Mercury? No, he’s probably just really old,” Charlie mused. “Really, really old.”

Gregory could see the hope leeching from her eyes with each passing second, and after a moment of consideration, told her: “Uh, yeah! Probably…”

Michael patted Gregory’s head in silent gratitude as he passed by, not wanting to upset Charlie either with the unfortunate news.

“Come on,” he offered, gesturing for the group to follow him. “Let’s check out some games—we’re still on a mission for tickets, aren’t we?”

“Let me know if you eeeeever want me to change it up!” the DJ said, pressing his headphones again as he bounced in time with the beat.

“We will; thank you, DJ!” Freddy replied, offering a wave which the huge animatronic returned. As he began following the trio he recalled a comment from earlier and paused, tapping Gregory’s shoulder to stall him as well. “Oh! Superstar, did you say you were looking for a specific game? If so, Music Man might be able to point you to its location.”

“Oh! Good idea, Freddy—” Gregory skidded to a stop, turning around and waving to the huge bot. “Excuse me? Mr. DJ Music Man? Could you help us find Princess Quest II?”

Maybe if he was extra nice to the DJ, the potential murder machine wouldn’t try and grind him to a fine powder tonight. He hoped. Though Sun was just as nice, yet Moon came after them as if the group stole all his glitter glue…

The music kept playing as the towering animatronic looked down at the tiny human. His back hands worked seamlessly to move the song into some current Top 50s Hit chart-topper that Michael and Charlie didn’t recognize.

“Princess Quest II? Hmm…” Music Man used a front hand to scratch his chin as he ran through the catalogue of arcade games in his attraction. After a moment, he shook his head. “Sorry, little man, I don’t think we have any game like that…”

“Maybe try just Princess Quest?” Michael offered, looking up at the DJ as well. “We found the first one in the East Arcade, so there have to be more.”

“Nope; there’s nothing with that title at all.” Music Man did his best attempt to shrug. “Although, there’s a huuuuge storage room with old and broken consoles up on the top level—maybe it’s in there? The area’s only accessible to staff, though… Not even Freddy’s supposed to go back there.”

“Guess we’ll just find something else to play,” Gregory replied, elbowing his siblings in their legs to get them moving. “Let’s go, guys—thanks DJ!”

The heel of his sneakers squeaked with his sharp turn, which turned into a casual walking towards the spiral staircase.

“We’re definitely finding this game,” Gregory murmured, chasing his hypothesis. “I don’t know about you guys, but don’t you think it’s pretty weird no one knows about a series that just explodes winning tickets?”

Even for all its flaws, 1,000 tickets per beaten game is unheard of for a monolithic company arcade.

“It’s definitely weird,” Michael confirmed, frowning slightly. “Especially the fact that they left the first one out when it’s clearly infected by all those glitches—”

Michael cut himself off with a start, frown deepening as his computer-chip brain worked overtime to piece together a theory. Hesitantly, he posed: “You don’t… think it has anything to do with him, does it?”

There wasn’t much to go on that supported this proclamation, though the weird glitching rabbits were pretty suspicious—not to mention that no one knew about this game, as Gregory pointed out.

“Why would he have anything to do with an arcade console?” Freddy questioned in a soft voice, not discounting the theory but clearly pointing out it was flawed like the game itself. Michael shook his head.

“I don’t know… I mean, Cassidy said he’d essentially been trapped in a fake one until he moved his consciousness into a new body without Charlie’s Gift, so I’m sure there’s things he can do that we don’t know—Ah, we… didn’t tell you guys that, did we?”

Gregory and Freddy were staring at Michael with alarmed confusion. With a grimace, Mike realized he hadn’t explicitly told them his father hadn’t always been in such a nice, upgraded Bonnie suit, but rotting away for decades in an original model. By the look on Freddy’s face, Michael wondered if Charlie ever got a chance to inform Freddy of the unfortunate fate of the Glamrock rabbit's suit—Freddy was the only one yet to actually see William, after all.

Michael heaved a sigh. “Okay, let’s just find that storage area—we can talk more where hopefully there aren’t staff around.”

“I'd bet my high score on Faz-Fighters your weirdo dad is behind this weird game,” Gregory replied. Only time could tell if his hunch was correct, and he slowly explained to the ursine robot at his side. “The working theory, Freddy, is that Mike's dad is traveling like a virus. Or—was. He, uh... Sort of took your friend and is using his body.”

Charlie could see how upset this was making Freddy, so she touched a hand into his. Since the bear grown more aware and expressive, she could see as clear as rain whenever he got upset.

“We're going to get him back. Remember?” Charlie always spoke confidently about these things. None of them actually knew for sure if they would come out on top. Not definitely... Though if it made her friends feel good enough to carry on, then of course she'd say it.

“He took... Bonnie?” Freddy clarified, his voice soft and tinged with hurt.

It wasn't hard for him to put the pieces together, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He might not fully understand why Bonnie was chosen yet, but it would explain the former bassist's sudden, random disappearance—and subsequent cover-up and quick replacement. The fact that William had somehow become a computer virus should've been harder to accept, but based on everything supernatural he'd seen over the past few days, Freddy came to believe this quite easily. His eyes widened as he processed his train of thought aloud.

“Oh my goodness... Vanessa has access to the Pizzaplex's computer systems, as well as working knowledge of the animatronics' programming. If Vanny is following William's commands, I bet she was behind the entire thing. She must have—”

He trailed off, clenching his fists by his sides. This revelation about Bonnie shocked Freddy to his core. He couldn't believe that his old friend had been decommissioned so unceremoniously for his body to be used as a host to one of the most evil souls in the world. It made him think back to the rumors of what happened to the rabbit, and that the only concrete bit of information Freddy had to work with was that Bonnie was last seen at the Golf Course. Based on how the others were acting at night, it wasn't a big leap for Freddy to assume the rumors about a certain gator taking Bonnie out held more truth than he'd wanted to believe.

“They made Monty decommission him...,” Freddy said slowly, his feet still moving heavily despite his mind drifting somewhere else. His hands clenched tighter, blue nails digging into the metal of his palms. “And Monty truly didn't remember, that's why he denied it, but... it was all just part of their scheme. They've been working on this for months, using my friends without any of us realizing...”

This plan was a long time coming. It explained why William hadn't given up so easily. He’d been lurking within the code since the inception of this very Pizzaplex. Gregory figured the group really hadn't had a chance to catch up on what happened exactly. He didn't even talk too much on what William almost did to him. Freddy didn't need to be burdened with that just now. He'd let the guy be angry at the fact his decommissioned best friend was being misused and mistreated while the soul of a digital serial killer puppeteered his corpse.

The room was far too dark to see. Gregory pulled his Faz-light from his shorts and illuminated their path. To their surprise, there were several 'play-tester' games lining the dingy office space.

“He's harvesting people. Kids specifically... I don't know why. It has something to do with that... That purple stuff...,” Gregory explained, his voice weening off as he thought about the needle that’d almost pierced his throat.

That fucking needle. Every time he shut his eyes, he could see it. The lights gleaming off the glass, it's medically sharp point staring threateningly back at him. Waiting to stab him and make Gregory apart of William's army of the undead.

“Remnant,” Michael clarified, placing a comforting hand on Gregory's back as the boy slowly moved his flashlight across the room. There were dozens of game consoles, most dark and empty, though a few flashed with dull ambience. They still had yet to find their prize, though. Michael shot Charlie a glance over his shoulder to see her still trying to comfort Freddy by sticking close to his side.

“I'm... not entirely sure of all the details, nor do I want to go into them right now, frankly,” Michael continued, wincing slightly as he thought of everything he knew and all the information he was not about to subject Gregory and Freddy to. “The only thing we need to keep in mind is that it seems to make people immortal. At least, I think that's the idea. So as far as Gregory—” Michael's hand moved to the boy's hair, running gentle fingers through the haphazard locks to preemptively soothe. “—or Evan, in this case, my father wants to prevent another 'family tragedy' using the Remnant.”

“What?!” Freddy practically hissed, his tone suddenly sharp with worry. His eyes frantically scanned the room, as if William was about to pop out of one of those strange holes in the walls. When his gaze fell upon Gregory with Mike's protective hand on his head, the bear relaxed slightly.

“We're not going to let that happen; don't worry,” Michael reassured quickly, feeling bad at making Freddy even more upset. Still... he felt the fatherly bear deserved to know why his son was so sought after by this crazed soul.

“I'll be just fine,” Gregory told himself. There was always a chance that they could fail. But he tried to think like his new big sister. He had to be positive. There were so many people around to protect him, and so many less robots apt to kill him went the sun went down thanks to their efforts.

Gregory slowed to a stop in the hall, waiting for Freddy to come closer to offer the bear his hand. “Promise. He's not going to get me.”

Charlie gave Gregory a lopsided smile. He was so good at being brave when he needed to be. Yet it made Charlie sad that he had to be like this so young. The maturity was far greater than most children his age had to act. And the saddest thought of all was how it reminded Charlie of herself not five years older than him... She was going to give some words of comfort, but Gregory shined his light ahead, pointing towards the back corner.

“Hey—let's check this one out. The one by the cutout,” he said, prompting the group to move closer.

Freddy's tension instantly released as Gregory offered a hand. The bear grasped it within his own—goodness, his little palm was so small in comparison—squeezing tightly and appreciating the warmth. It let Freddy know that his son was alive and well, and as long as those facts were still true they could get through anything.

“That's definitely it—good eye, kid!” Michael praised, mouth flipping into a grin as he walked up to the dusty console. It was situated against the back wall next to a cutout of what looked to be Bonnie in some pirate get-up. Michael noted with a mild shock that the game was lit up and ready for someone to play, despite it not actually being plugged in. He had a feeling that if they went and checked Princess Quest I, it would be the same situation.

“Oh, this is not right at all,” Freddy murmured, echoing Michael's sentiment. Seeing the console only confirmed that he had no idea where this game came from. Nothing about it was familiar, and the lack of actual power keeping it going was certainly odd, to say the least. The whole thing just gave off a bad vibe that even the animatronic bear could sense.

Gregory approached the gaming system, coin ready in hand. Charlie took the flashlight and held it for them to see more easily in the dark. As Gregory went to trick the game's coin slot, he realized with a queasy twist to his stomach that a credit was already loaded on the screen.

“Okaaaay...,” Gregory said out loud, wary but pressing start regardless. “I mean... Who knows—playing these might give us some clues on what to do next.”

The visuals were slightly more enhanced in this iteration. The Princess was still stuck inside the castle, overrun with black and purple goop with the shadowy bunnies on her trail. While she could fend them off after retrieving a short sword, it was still somewhat hard to maneuver around them on this isometric map.

And the glitches! Gregory tried to exploit them. But it was like the game didn't want to be beaten. He was lucky to finish this particular game with one of his lives left... It seemed like the more heart containers he collected, the stronger the enemies got. Even the Princess’s remark echoed a ghost of the same sentiment in the small dialogue box at the bottom of the screen.

“Everything about this game creeps me out,” Charlie put bluntly. Be it ambiance or design, she found a knot twisting in her robotic guts as she watched it. Charlie scooted closer to Mike, bumping him for comfort.

Michael slid an arm around Charlie's shoulders, the gesture completely instinctual as his gaze was fixed to the tiny screen. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell this game was about. William was tied to it, that much was clear—now that they'd made the connection, there was no doubt in his mind as to what those glitching purple rabbits represented. But if they were meant to be William, then who was the Princess?

Suddenly, Michael let out a gasp, turning to the bear hovering by Gregory's side.

“Hey, Freddy—you said Vanessa wasn't always a security guard, right? Remind me what her old job used to be?”

“My employee records indicate that she was a beta tester for a Virtual Reality game Fazbear Entertainment tried to venture into through a partner company,” Freddy replied, blinking rapidly as he accessed the employee database. His gaze shifted to meet Michael's, head cocked slightly as he tried to figure out the man's train of thought.

“Do you know why she transferred?”

“No, although nearly everyone from that division was fired when the project was cut. The company went bankrupt, and the game never fully launched because of all the... glitches.” Freddy trailed off, his eyes widening. “Oh. You do not think...?”

“I do.” Michael nodded, glancing down at Charlie who he still held onto. “I don't know how exactly, but... what if that's how Vanessa was infected? And somehow... this Princess Quest series is tied to her, too?”

Charlie's face twisted into that of anger. The rage and despair she felt for Vanessa read so clearly on her face, and as Michael spoke to her attention snapped from the game to him in an instant.

“He thinks he's so clever,” Charlie snipped, agreeing subtly. “Hiding behind these dumb metaphors. William made a story, just like Cassidy… And hid Vanessa—the real Vanessa—in a video game.”

It was almost like William was taunting Cassidy in a way. Charlie could almost hear that twisted voice chortling, “Look what I can do! Not so special now, are we, Cassidy?” in that petulant and boasting demeanor he got when he was winning. He didn't care how many lives he ruined, or in what way.

Gregory had long-ceased speaking, more focused on the immersive colors as he slashed away at the ghost bunnies.

“It was so obvious. She's in the game.” Charlie shook her head, clicking her tongue in disgust. “For William to come out, he had to switch them. First he got in Vanessa’s head, and when he was ready for the new body, he just—left the missing half of her mind in the digital castle. Probably as some stupid failsafe; I don't know how, but... It makes as much sense as everything else in our lives. Michael—”

She garnered the attention of her pale-faced friend with a jostle of his arm. “—remember those robots in the basement around the table? The one meant to be your dad was dressed like a magician...”

The implication, clear as day now, was that he and his 'assistant' switched places. As if human consciousness was as simple as a parlor trick. William had been leaving clues about his own little crime right under their noses.

Charlie was shaking with barely contained rage now. She tucked in closer to Michael to distract from the poisonous emotion, burying her face in his shoulder so Gregory and Freddy wouldn’t have to see such an ugly thing.

“Fucking asshole,” Michael snarled. It was easy to feed off of Charlie's anger when it came towards his father. It took a moment of deep breathing to reign in his emotions enough not to march straight back into the Fazerblast hideout, and, if William wasn't there, turn the entire Pizzaplex upside down just to punch him in that stupid, smug rabbit face.

Although, now wasn't the time for that. He could get his revenge tonight as planned, but for now it was Mike's job to solve this mystery and comfort his friends in the process. He held Charlie close against his side, rubbing her arm to ground her in the present. He knew how easy it was for both of them to get consumed in memories and rage, and he couldn't afford to let that happen in a rare moment of respite from being actively hunted.

To Freddy's credit, he didn't bother chiding Michael for his rather intense curse. As crazy as his and Charlie's explanation sounded on the surface, it actually made a lot of sense in the context of the weekend. Hesitantly, trying to find anything positive he could, Freddy ventured: “So then... it stands to reason that if Vanessa's consciousness is trapped, perhaps there is a way to get her out?”

Not only did he hate the thought of the poor woman forced to do William's bidding, but Freddy worried what might happen to her after he was defeated since she was so consumed by his spirit. Would her old consciousness return, or would her mind simply... break?

Gregory had been listening vaguely, mind detached in a way as he focused more on the game. Still, he gathered enough to be able to answer as he neared the last level.

“If I had to guess—beating the game might do something. Uh... If that doesn't work…” Gregory paused, focusing a moment to get past a group of enemies he didn't think it would've been wise to fight. “We can always smash these crap-ass games.”

“Gregory—language.”

This time Freddy's anti-swearing protocol did kick in, for hearing such a thing in a child's voice was vastly different than a grown man's. It also meant that Freddy wasn't so distracted anymore, which Michael was glad for. He didn't want the bear to start having an existential crisis on them here and now.

Though when Michael's gaze was pulled down by movement as Charlie shifted a piece of long hair out of her face, he realized there was something they had yet to tell Freddy and Gregory that might prompt such a crisis... but for an ultimately positive reason.

“Right, we'll keep an eye out for anymore consoles,” Michael confirmed, speaking a bit quickly. He grinned, the idea of potentially cheering the fatherly bear and his little brother up in one go making him tap Charlie's arm excitedly. “But let's not dwell on the depressing things—not while there's still daylight out.” His smile widened even more when Charlie and Freddy looked at him questioningly. “Once Gregory's done with the game, Charlie and I have something to tell you that I think will make you both very happy.”

“Woah, a surprise?!” Gregory blinked, looking over his shoulder at Michael for a split second before his attention was pried away and back to the game. There was a short gasp, and Charlie looked back up to Mike as well.

“I forgot about that! Yeah,” she said, glancing now to Freddy with a smile. “You guys are going to love what we found in the basement.”

Charlie watched as Gregory passed the old king on the screen, only to walk into—

A security office.

“...I really hate that we were right about this,” Gregory muttered, regret in his voice as the game turned off, then loaded back to the main screen. There was no longer an option to put a coin in the machine; the whole image glitched out and it was impossible to select anything else.

“Really? A security office? For fu—reak's sake...,” Michael groaned, eyes cast high to the ceiling as he managed to divert the cuss in time. He didn't think he could avoid Freddy's wrath now that he'd pulled the bear's attention to him.

“We can only hope this will help Vanessa in the long run,” Freddy said placatingly, pulling Gregory over once the boy dislodged himself from the console. To everyone's relief, there was finally a smile on the bear's face again as he looked between Mike and Charlie expectantly. “I am very eager to learn what you found—please share!”

Charlie squeezed Michael in her side hug, reminding him not to curse so much in front of Gregory. The kid was beginning to pick up his sailor mouth. She brightened further as she glanced to Freddy and Gregory once more, both who looked fairly excited to hear the news.

“Get this—” Charlie said with a toothy smile, “—we figured out a solution for Freddy's power issue. My dad made another android; a spare that even he wasn’t sure what to do with.”

Charlie looked up to the bear, offering the human disguise. It was quite a staggering proposition, she knew. “Michael and I thought that maybe you'd want it, Freddy—so you can leave the Pizzaplex with Gregory!”

Freddy simply stared at her for a few seconds, jaw open slightly in an expression of pure bewilderment. In a soft voice, he questioned: “An android... for me?”

“If you want it, it's yours,” Michael confirmed, his own grin just as bright as Charlie's.

“Not that I do not appreciate the gesture, but... I am not like you.” Freddy gave a slight shake of his head. “I do not have a human soul, I mean—I cannot possess things as you can, so...” He moved his arm vaguely, as it seemed for once in his existence he was struggling to explain his thoughts.

“That won't be a problem,” Michael reassured. It figured the animatronic would immediately move to the logistics of the whole concept. He let out a small chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The body isn't meant to be for a human soul, unlike all the others Henry made. I mean, I'm sure one could always inhabit by force, but in a weird, cosmic way... we kind of think it really is for you, Freddy.”

His eyes softened, thinking back to their short but poignant conversation with his uncle. “Henry said that if we ever made it to this point, he'd want someone to watch after us and made an android that could do just that. Thing is, he’s yet to make an AI capable enough to be uploaded to it... But I think we can all agree that you definitely fit that bill.”

Gregory had been squeezing Freddy's leg in a near-crushing grip. The more Mike and Charlie revealed, the higher his hopes grew. Looking up to Freddy wide-eyed and dimple-smiled, Gregory felt the need to remind the animatronic of his technological prowess. “I could totally transfer your data into the new robot!”

Gregory didn't really care exactly what his dad looked like; he'd love the guy no matter what. In fact, he was certain he'd gain more friends if people knew his dad was Freddy Fazbear. It was all a matter of that damn battery issue the company installed. He wondered if they planned it like that in case someone wanted to steal one of the animatronics, or even on the off-chance the robots went rogue and tried to run. They were working with some pretty sentient coding, after all.

“You can come and go whenever you want,” Charlie added, happy to give Freddy the gift Henry so graciously bestowed over them.

“…If you don't want to leave, I understand,” Gregory muttered after a moment of silence, trying to play off the potential rejection as if it wouldn't hurt him to the very core. It was Freddy's choice after all. Yet Gregory would probably cry if the robot he called Dad turned out to want to stay with his old life instead of leave with him.

Freddy looked from Michael to Charlie, then finally down to the boy clinging to his side like the bear was his lifeline. In a way, Freddy supposed he was. Letting out a soft chuckle, he bent to scoop Gregory into his arms. “Now, how could I ever say 'no' to a face like that?” 

“Yessss!” Michael cheered softly, pumping a fist at his side. “Like Charlie said—it's not like you have to leave and never come back. In fact, it'll be easier to visit since we won't be stopped every time we come and go by staff asking why we're taking their star out for a vacation.”

Freddy laughed at this, more heartily than before. “You make a convincing argument, Michael. I will gladly accept.”

Gregory let out a thrilled shriek, throwing his arms around his father's neck and hugging him tightly at the news. Charlie was clearly keeping in some contained excitement in the way she bit back a wide grin at Freddy's acceptance of their gift.

“Oh, man!” Gregory said with glee. “I wonder what your people-sona's gonna look like.”

Charlie chortled a little, telling the kid: “I don't think we should spoil it! He just looks like a dad; that's all you need to know!”

She would let Gregory decide what that meant. But Henry did seem to design a man with an immediately trustworthy face. Then again, Charlie's father was always very talented when it came to character designs—she supposed it wouldn’t be hard to translate that to real faces, too.

Upon their celebration, the sound of a door swinging into the wall ruined Gregory's mood. Startled, the kid jumped in Freddy's grasp and his mind raced at who might be coming into the vast room.

And who should it be but Vanessa, the source of their recent discussion. She didn't notice the group at first, pausing as the door shut behind her to lean against it with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temple with her good hand. Her arm still hurt like shit, but at least the constant migraines had miraculously started to clear. They weren't gone, not by a long shot, but they seemed less pinpointed and stabby and more of just a dull ache.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed, jumping when she finally noticed the group of four staring at her intently, Freddy's bright eyes glowing eerily in the dimly lit room. She quickly stood up straight, clearing her throat and attempting to brush some unseen dirt off her shirt. “Um, I-I apologize, Mr. Afton; Ms. Emily, I... didn't realize you were in here.” Her eyes narrowed, the unspoken question of why they were in this random storage room of old arcade machines hanging in the air.

“That's alright,” Michael said. He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he turned Vanessa's silent inquiry back on her. “Isn't it early afternoon? What are you still doing here?”

“I left my things in this office last night,” Vanessa explained, pointing to a locked room off to the side that was more of a standard security office with monitors and electrical equipment. There was a jacket and bag resting on one of the chairs, and Ness pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door as if to prove she was telling the truth. “I was just coming to grab them on my way out.”

“And your arm? The doctor said it was alright for you to work tonight?” Charlie asked. She’d already tried to subtly convince Vanessa that coming in was a bad idea. Unfortunately, the woman didn’t take her hint before and Charlie doubted she’d take it now. Still, they could only hope Vanessa would just stay home and give them less of a chance to hurt the poor brainwashed woman further.

Charlie couldn’t tell if Gregory was pretending to be stressed so the fact Freddy was coddling him looked natural, as the bear would try his best to console any upset child. Or perhaps he was genuinely upset with seeing Vanessa.

Truthfully, Gregory was secretly praying it would never come down to her life over their own survival. William had already split her mind up and shoved it into a video game; he’d certainly use her to obtain what he really wanted. If that meant getting her killed just to trap them, Gregory was distressed at the thought…

To their benefit, even though Vanessa worked the night shift and didn't get to see the daily interactions between kids and the animatronics, she at least knew that some of them just had a weird bond. As long as their guardians were okay with kids being picked up by giant robots, then who was she to say otherwise? Gregory clearly liked Freddy enough to cling to him in a death grip, and Ness certainly wasn't going to comment on the situation with his de-facto guardian in the room.

“I'll be fine,” she replied to Charlie, avoiding answering her question directly. The doctor actually told her to stay home for a few days and get some rest, but Vanessa couldn't leave the Pizzaplex right now with everything going on—she had to get to the bottom of this virus. Her job was on the line, after all.

Quickly slipping the duffel bag strap over her shoulder and gathering the jacket in her arms, Vanessa rushed by the group again with an attempt at a smile that turned out as an apologetic grimace. “I'm sorry I can't stay and talk—I really need to get some rest before my next shift. Please find Sophie if you need anything, alright?”

Before anyone could respond, the night guard slipped out of the storage area and slammed the door behind her.

***

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[hopefulvittori]

Birds of Prey - Chapter 5

Stalker!Carlo/OC & Romeo (AU)

Reposting my novel from ao3 Enjoy!

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Chapter 5: Fangs and talons

Feeling partly liberated from his guilt, Carlo said his farewells to the young Durante. A small self-satisfied smirk spread across his face as he got across the plank. He felt the worn paper within his pocket. The son of Geppetto was quite sure that Vittoria didn't check her pamphlet yet. It was better this way, or so he thought. 

As he disappeared between the tall buildings and roofs, he didn't look back. The boy was shivering from the cold wind. He tried to extend his white sleeves as much as possible then looked up to the night sky. Gazing at the moon in silence, his eyebrows furrowed when newfound thoughts flooded his mind. It wasn't just liberation he had felt, but a blend of frustration and dread as well. He thought he was content about his father being gone. Despite the fact that he left his only son at an orphanage, everyone just adored him for his geniusness. His father made everyone's life easier - at the cost of his own child's happiness. And yet, here he was, pondering about the void Geppetto left behind. Thanks to his abrupt demise, a lot of people were suffering - including the Durantes. 

'If you could've shown some concern to others, you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place!' Romeo's words echoed in his mind. Now he truly understood what his friend was talking about. 

'Damn you, old man...' Carlo gritted his teeth in frustration as he kept walking on. He jumped over to the next roof, feeling the sting of autumn wind in his face. He doubled his steps as he was running through the roofs. The teenager was desperately trying to wash away those doubts he had felt. As he went on and on, he reached the very last square of the Quarantine Zone: a very confined courtyard surrounded by towering walls and lightened windows. It was reachable from an iron ladder before him. The moon was hidden from the boy's thoughtful eyes by tall buildings. He started climbing down from the ladder with newfound tiredness. Not too long after, he halted his steps then sniffed the air. A sense of urgency took over Carlo when he felt the smell of smoke and iron. When he looked for the source, he couldn't see but only heard unrecognizable voices from not too far off the Quarantine Zone. At first the boy swore that the shouts and howls belonged to some faraway animals from the forest. He was so very wrong. After he reached the bottom of the ladder, he looked around the exit of the restricted area. He saw some shadows looming beyond the brickened walls. Carlo carefully moved to the edge of a column to take a peek to the streets of Elysion. 

"Come out now, botolo! We know you're hiding somewhere!" A man shouted in a deep raspy voice.

Although it was past midnight, apparently no one noticed nor heard them. There were two figures - apparently Stalkers - on the boulevard, looking for someone. Both of them wore ragged hyena masks and weathered brownish cloaks. One of them was shaking in excitement as she threw something somewhere. The boy saw the flames and sparks rising up at the corner of the neighbouring streets. While he wasn't as familiar as Romeo around these parts, the smell of burning paper meant that a book store was their target. The awful odor covered everything.

"Are you going to leave your accomplice to her fate!? You truly are something else, Leone!" The woman laughed as she flinged with her arm once again. After hearing the sound of breaking glasses, another wave of flames rose up.

While Carlo tried to look for help, he couldn't see anyone - not even a puppet - who would've noticed what was happening. The boy wasn't even sure what he could have done in that situation. He was figuratively and literally caught in a crossfire...

...Until a barely audible groan was heard around the opposite side of the streets. In the shadows of the dead ends, he couldn't see quite clearly. The earlier smell of iron came from there. Small pool of blood was painted across the cobblestones. Carlo squinted his eyes shut for a moment then took a sharp breath. He followed the trails of blood with haste. When the son of Geppetto turned his back on the streets, he heard another quiet groan. However, as soon as he wanted to take another step into the shadows, something stopped him. The tip of a saber touched his chest warningly. Carlo froze up in sudden surprise. While he noticed a figure in the shadows, he couldn't clearly see his shape. The injured stranger hunched slightly forward, holding their left shoulder with their free hand. The sword was slightly shaking in their grasp. It was a desperate attempt to fight back against their chasers. Once they leant forward to see the face of a boy, they deeply sighed. 

"Curse you, Romeo... I thought you would leave everyone out of this..." 

It was a sharp yet warm-sounding voice of a young man. Even though Carlo heard it from somewhere, he's still been literally and figuratively in the dark. He tilted his head slightly to one side when the stranger lay down his weapon. Once he did that, he pressed his back to the brickened walls while he tried to ease his fall. Carlo quickly moved to try to stabilize him. The moon's gentle gleam swept across his face for a moment. The mischievous teenager saw someone familiar when stern green eyes gazed back at him. His shoulder length beige blonde hair was messy and smeared with oil. His face was bruised, mouth covered in blood. His hand was stained with his ichor as he tried to stop the bleeding.

"What are you doing here...?" The man asked with a mistrustful glance.

Carlo furrowed his eyebrows, focusing on the figure once again.

"I know you. From the Monad..." But the boy couldn't finish his question. The familiar stranger hushed him. Both of them pressed their back to the wall, holding their breath. The male Sweeper moved around the narrow street, pricking his ears. The saw-edged sword gleamed menacingly in his hold, waiting for its next target to appear. The Hyena let out an animalistic growl while paced around, searching in a hurried manner. As soon as his partner in crime called for him however, the Stalker turned his back on the other side of the street. The son of Geppetto sighed deeply in relief.

"You shouldn't be here, Carlo. If they're going to see you..." The injured shook his head in worry, leaning on the wall.

The boy raised his eyebrows in realization. "...Leo?" He asked quietly.

"Took you long enough, kid. Though I would've been more happy if we could've met in... merrier circumstances." The Lion smiled sadly, sighing deeply through his nose.

"What happened to you?"

Leo chuckled dryly. "Let's just say: I have angered a lot of people."

"The Sweepers?" Carlo held his breath, gazing at the Bastard. The man bowed his head slightly while he tried to steady himself. "They're going to burn the whole street down. The book sto--"

"You don't need to worry. Their target was the bookstore and there's no one inside." The Lion interrupted him with a nonchalant handwave. "I sent the owner away to the Cathedral before they came. No one else needs to die today."

"No one else?" The son of Geppetto clenched his jaw with furrowed brows. "Just what are you planning?"

Leo smirked while holding back another pained gasp and said without any hesitation: "...Taking responsibility to protect you all."

Carlo froze up and looked at him in horror. He knew exactly what the Bastard truly meant. Once he measured his condition again, he was certain that he wouldn't survive the next encounter with the Sweepers. The way Leo hunched over, holding his injured shoulder in pain worried the boy. He was one of the Charity House's denizens after all. But what could a lone youngster do about it?

'...Is this how you want to be a Stalker?' Then Carlo heard Durante's words loud and clear in his mind. They rang true. The one before him was in mortal peril. He HAD to do something. Once his mind was set, he looked away from the injured man.

"--it over." He mumbled quietly, pointing at the Lion's saber. The Stalker blinked at him in confusion.

"Pardon?"

The son of Geppetto sighed in frustration, crossing arms across his chest. "Your weapon and tailcoat. Hand it over."

Without waiting for the Bastard's acceptance, he reached for his clothing. Even though the man tried to show resistance, his injury made him hiss in pain when Carlo pulled the cloth off of him. Once the mischievous boy held the peacock blue tailcoat in his grasp, Leo shook his head in disbelief.

"What is the meaning of this...?"

But the Lion got no answer. He could've sworn he saw Carlo pouting in a defiant manner. His confusion was growing even more when the boy started grumbling in frustration as he dressed up. Apparently the coat was a bit bigger than he expected. Despite that, he didn't waste more time on trivial things such as this. The teenager immediately reached for the Stalker's saber. Leo however retorted once again.

"Carlo, what are you doing?" 

Still no response. The boy basically looked over at him, searching for something. His amber gaze was glued to the Lion's belt.

"Do you still have your mask?" Carlo asked determinedly, ignoring his question.

"Are you still going to...?" Leo tried to speak up once more...

"Where is your mask?" ...But the youth ignored his query yet again. 

Tapping with his shoe, he reached for the man's sash. Only the Stalker's firm grip stopped him from taking his last possession away. His green eyes gazed into the boy's amber ones in an irky way. He didn't say anything but looked at the youth in defiance. Seeing this, Carlo shook his head in annoyance.

"I'm going to make a distraction for you. As soon as everything is clear, get away from here."

"W-what? No, kid, I won't allow it...!" Leo said with a shaky breath. He tried to lean on his sword but he quickly fell backwards to the walls.

The boy spread his arms and tilted his head to one side. "It's not like you can stop me. Besides, don't you want to see Romeo?"

The man didn't answer. He measured the mischievous youth. The way he spoke and held himself reminded the Lion of a bird of prey. He saw his goals as clear as day. Despite his objections, the son of Geppetto stayed determined. While he was a small part of the ravenous community of the Stalkers, a hawk was still a dangerous bird to deal with. And the way he mentioned his confidant - his true friend? He read him like an open book.

"...More than anything."

Seeing this young man's determination, Leo surrendered. He handed over his saber with shaky hands. Carlo held the weapon in his grasp in a delicate manner. Like it wasn't a weapon but a fragile glass. His face held wonder - admiration even - as he looked at the golden grip of the sword. The way it was laced with lion patterned carvings spoke about the forgemaster's exceptional talent. As he was bewitched by the fine work, the Lion held out to him the epitome of his Stalker identity: his mask. The detailed lion head-shaped mask glared menacingly in the darkness. The beige mane looked like real hair rather than fabricated fur. Both the mask's and the saber's heavily detailed parts told much about Leo's noble yet self-conceited nature.

The son of Geppetto donned the lion mask with no hesitation. Although the Lion's doppelganger was convincing, the most keen-eyed Stalkers could've distinguished them by taking a look at their posture. This Lion was more humble than his predecessor. While he held a certain pride, he wasn't a noble in heart. Seeing Carlo's more natural - less cramped - posture, Leo hoped that the Sweepers wouldn't realize this trick. 

"As soon as I get their attention, get away from the boulevard." The boy said flatly, one hand on his hip. "Do you know the shortcut to the Charity House?"

"I won't go back there. They know that I have ties to the Monad Household." Leo shook his head in disagreement.

"Any other options?"

The Lion let out a watery sigh. "...I'll head to the Cathedral."

"Can you make it to the lift?" Carlo asked with a tint of worry in his voice.

"I'll try." Leo nodded in affirmation.

While he wasn't fully convinced that he could make it, the youth had to trust in the Bastard's tenacity. With a curtly bow, he turned his back on the man, saber at the ready. As he dashed towards his targets' direction, the wounded Lion murmured a silent prayer for the youngster.

'Buona fortuna, Astore.'

──────────

The Hyenas enjoyed the uproar they have caused. The flames danced around T. Dora's bookstore in vigor. The Sweeper woman cackled at the sight of it. When she held the very last fire bottle at the house, she called to the Lion once again. Her partner dissuaded her because the "coward feared his own life more than his confidant's safety".

He couldn't be more wrong. They couldn't take pleasure in the crime any longer.

A lone shadow approached them from the other side of the boulevard. Its steps were light yet robust. As it leapt out of the darkness, its intentions were clear as day. It held its saber at its right. The moon's light gave its blade a silvery glint. The male Hyena let out a raspy laugh.

"Look who decided to show up!" He cackled while pointing his saw-edged blade at the 'Lion'. "Any last words, botolo!?"

The Bastard did not say anything. His quiet resolve couldn't shake the pair of Sweepers. With a similar laugh, the female threw the last fire bottle towards her target. She aimed for his head. It couldn't stop the Lion though. He snapped his head to one side, dodging the flask. The bottle shattered on the ground. A small puddle of fire appeared behind him. Taking a glance to the flames then at his enemies, the 'Lion' lunged forward. The male Hyena did the same. Rang of steel clashing was heard throughout the street. The youngster felt overwhelmed at first. When the rough-edged blade met with his saber, he had to muster all of his strength to block the frontal attack. The jagged blade held his sword in one place. 

"Tired already?" The Hyena smirked beneath his mask, pressing his weapon down with full force.

Carlo gasped slightly as he fought back against the pressure. With an upward cleave, he interrupted their contest of power. Just as the saw-edged blade could've struck him down with the next attack, he dodged to the left. As soon as he tried to flank his enemy, the Hyena swung his weapon. He could just barely parry the powerful attack. As he slipped backwards from the impact, a dagger was flung towards him. It swooshed next to him, scratching his mask. The female Hyena giggled. She prepared another dagger. Seeing the odds, the boy tried to get past the male Sweeper. He waited for his forward slash. However, as that attack hit its mark, another knife flew toward his direction.

He felt a newfound smell of iron. The 'Lion' hissed in pain as the dagger left a gash on his right shoulder. Blood seeped through his tailcoat. Luckily, the wound didn't hinder his swordhand, but his attention turned to the female Sweeper. Such cowardly tactics made Carlo's blood boil. The boy mustered his strength to make a run towards the other Stalker. He was still dangerously close to the male Hyena. Barely dodging the attack, his opponent's cleave split some hair from the mask. Paying no attention to him, the Bastard dashed towards his new prey. The female quickly lost her composure. She saw no man before him. It was a beast charging her with full might. Ever soundless, the 'Lion' lunged towards her without any words or yell. 

"G-get away from me!" She shrilled, throwing another dagger at him. However, her aim wasn't as precise as before. When he drew near, Carlo thrusted with his saber. The Hyena yelped in surprise as she fell backwards. She scarcely avoided the fatal attack.

"Leave her alone, you coward!" The male yelled menacingly, running towards the Bastard with full force.

Seeing his reaction, the boy had a different idea. He quickly grabbed the woman by her wrists. Locking her in a vice grip, hands at back and a blade at her throat, the other Hyena had to stop his assault.

"Two against one? And you're calling me a coward?" The 'Lion' asked with a guttural growl. Pressing his blade to her throat, she let out a quiet yelp. "Lay down your weapon or...!"

"You wouldn't dare!" The man yelled, pointing his sword at Carlo. He was ready to make another charge...

...But seeing the wound on her neck expanding made him flinch. The sight of blood dripping from her nape forced the Sweeper to drop his blade. The Bastard let out a satisfied "hmph". He couldn't let his guard down however. As the woman tried to struggle within his grasp, he pulled her closer to him. Even though she didn't put up too much of a fight, she was still a trained Stalker. Her constant wrestling made him let out an audible pant.

"Killing me is one thing, but plunging innocents into this...?" The boy growled angrily, clenching his saber more tightly. "How despicable can you be?"

"Hah, says Mr. Turncoat himself! You know it's just business for the Sweepers, right?" The male Hyena snorted in amusement. 

Carlo blinked in confusion. Seeing his hesitation, the Stalker continued: "Yeah, the alchemists promised a tidy sum for your head, Lion. You've been a thorn in our side long enough."

'Leo, what have you done...?' The youth thought, horrified by the truth. His hands were shaking, his lips trembling. Seeing his lack of response, the Hyena mockingly chuckled. As he slowly approached the Bastard, the 'Lion' held his hostage more tightly. He growled warningly, keeping the distance between himself and his opponent. The woman was still trashing against his hold.

"What do the alchemists want from me?" Carlo asked, holding the blade dangerously close to the woman's throat.

"...Ask them yourself."

'Drat... they don't know.' The son of Geppetto sighed deeply through his nose. He felt like he reached a dead end. The boy's arms felt tired, his body was getting fatigued. His gaze shifted between the two Hyenas and the next possible escape route. He mentioned a shortcut to the Charity House to Leo. He wouldn't get past his opponent without getting hurt. As he was thinking, the male Stalker tried to get closer. The enemy felt his hesitation. By the time the Hyena picked up his weapon once again, Carlo's mind was shifting between getting away and fighting.

His time was short.

However, just as he was slowly losing himself to indecisiveness, his ears rang. An explosion was heard. The bookstore's remaining windows shattered. The flames enveloped everything from the inside. The building couldn't support itself anymore. The boy saw how his enemy jumped at the sudden sight. He needed to act as quickly as possible. Smacking his hostage at her nape with the pommel of his saber, the woman quickly lost consciousness. Seeing her partner yell for her name while running with incredible speed, Carlo tossed her body without any care. Even though the Sweeper man quickly threw his weapon aside, he barely caught her. Seeing his shifting concerns, the son of Geppetto acted as fast as possible. With breakneck speed, he ran past his opponent. He could feel how the Stalker tried to grab him with half hand. He failed to. Carlo jumped past the spreading flames caused by the woman's fire bottle. With a sharp turn, he took another direction. Like a shadow, the 'Lion' disappeared from his chaser's eyesight.

He wasn't sure if he was being chased. Ears were still ringing from his quick heartbeat and the earlier explosion. As soon as he was out of sight, exhaustion came over him with newfound strength. Carlo sighed deeply, leaning his shoulder to the wooden walls. He removed Leo's mask with tiredness. The boy looked at it with a mix of weariness and unbelief. He felt... betrayed. His strength and values meant nothing when he tried to protect a disruptor - a traitor even. A sharp sting of pain overcame him. It wasn't only his pride that was hurting. He dropped his saber to the ground as he clutched his injured shoulder. While it wasn't bleeding anymore, his adrenaline rush ran out. The boy gritted his teeth then picked up and sheathed the weapon. He took a sharp breath and looked up. The street lights were going out. Some lights across the windows glinted. Even though the stars weren't going out yet, dawn was coming soon. He was sure it would cause much more uproar than most of his mischiefs. Carlo doubled his steps towards the Charity House. However, when he paced past a trash barrel, he abruptly halted his steps. With an angry huff, he threw the Lion's mask into the barrel. Then without any remorse, he ran past the cranky streets in a hurried manner. 

The mask of the Beast King disappeared beneath the pile of waste...

Sorry for the late update, I've been busy with work (and playing Undertale). Time management sucks sometimes... :') So here comes and goes our Leo. He's been through a lot, but thanks to our good neighbourhood Carlo, he will live another day. There were like 0 implications about his personality in the actual game. Judging by his name (and probably his 'Stalker animal'), I think the persona of the righteous knight fits him, though I tried to make his personality quite vague. Being quite arrogant, mistrustful, hypocritical by hiding secrets he had learned from the Sweepers and the Alchemists of the Isle. For the sake of all Stalkers, he pretty much angered all three groups, ruining his reputation as a Bastard (quick note: the Blueblood tailcoat's description says the Bastards used to co-work with the alchemists; this is the reason our boy got so upset). Btw it was my very first fight scene after a long while. I wrote a few ones back then in my mother language, but that was like a decade ago. It was the perfect occasion to make Carlo wear P's signature blueblood tailcoat. I tried to portray him a bit cunning but not overboardly. Once he sees unfairness (quite the opposite when he kicks his schoolmate in the balls) or gets impatient, he quickly loses his composure. He's still young and inexperienced in actual combat after all. I didn't expect that this is going to be a big project for me. I still have some difficulties writing in English, but I feel I'm getting a better hang of it. I thoroughly enjoy spending my time thinking about the plot, how to connect the dots, etc. I can't say for sure if I can keep the 1-2 weeks per update though. Anyways, thank you for reading my novel, I hope you'll stay tuned for the next chapter of Birds of Prey!