#these 'bots have nothing on me! ; MIKE

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (v)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, witchcraft

A/N: it's like i never left amirite (im sorry it has been like 10 months pls forgive me ily guys let's pretend this series never went on hiatus) (i had cancer and college but now I've graduated from both and i live babyyy. anyway. welcome back to my house of horrors)

Previous part || Series masterlist

When you tell Maya you want to do witchcraft, you'd done so with the full expectation of defending your idea with the force of a PhD student who was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

She surprisingly agrees. 

“Really?” It's hard to stop the astonishment from entering your voice. Honestly, it sort of pisses you off that the Canva presentation you spent five hours on wouldn't actually see the light of day.

“Yeah, sure. I think it'd do well with the older demographic. ” She shrugs.

"Really?" Now you weren't sure she was on the same plane of existence as you were.

“Make some animals talk. Conjure up some parking spots.”

Ah. 

“I was thinking more like... hexing people and shadow demons,” you test slowly.

That seems to tether her to reality.

Her head cranes towards you centimetre by centimetre, like she was buffering in real time.

“Are you insane?" she states, not very much sounding like she was expecting an answer. "Do you want to end up on the news? Do you know how vicious Facebook groups can be?” 

“No PR is bad PR,” you preach wisely, parroting advice you’d seen bots on Twitter tell other bots. 

“That doesn’t apply to you. I already have a tough time explaining Stephen Strange and why he’s not literally the devil to the public."

Now that was a little unfair. Perhaps it warranted another Canva presentation.

"Have you considered that I'm hotter and significantly cooler than Stephen Strange?" you suggest helpfully.

She squints at you, or more likely your audacity. "I will not have another scandal on my hands this week.” 

“But next week is okay?”

Her hardened stare tells you quickly what a thousand words cannot.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Thou limit me so, Maya. How is one to find you invigorating content in these trying circumstances?”

Maya taps your shoulder on her way out, crooning, “There’s a reason I asked you to do this series. You’ll figure it out.”

You hide a smile with an all too dramatic sigh. “Thou compliment me so. How am I to not fall in love with thee?”

Maya shakes her head playfully. “Nothing that will get me called into a press conference by mid-day. No hexing. No extreme curses. ”

“Mid-level curses it is, then” you call after her.

Her leaving figure does not give you a reply.

After a week of staring at the corner of his room through the night, delirious to the point where he seriously considered using Sam’s Amazon Prime account to buy his own stupid ghost apparatuses, Bucky throws in the towel.

Clearly, he was mistaken. Sleep deprived and probably missing his family a little more than he would have ever admitted to a living soul.

Bucky's sleep deprivation adds to his already charming and sociable personality.

No one would touch him with a ten-foot pole. Bucky’s usually grumpy and while everyone had sort of built a tolerance towards his regular nonsense, he was now the very sexy combination of grumpy and sensitive.

For his part, after last week's shenanigans, Bucky has stuck to avoiding anything and everything horror.

He watches only romcoms and finds that while everyone says he seems most like Harry from Harry Met Sally, he hates that Mike Wazowski motherfucker with a passion. 

While everyone else seems to get the memo, you have chosen to ignore it blissfully, and have instead been prancing about all week, shoving meme after meme into his face.

Bucky Barnes smiling compilations that were 7 seconds long. Bucky Barnes social media fanfictions that showed him replying far more than he had ever replied to anyone in real life ever.

Bucky’s learnt to ignore you with a long-suffering glare. You adapt quickly, skillfully dodge the daggers shooting out of his eyes and shove another TikTok in his face. It is an edit of him to Toxic by Britney Spears. He doesn't want to ask where they got some of the footage they used.

After the fifth Twitter screenshot, he takes to avoiding you like the plague.

Unfortunately for Maya, that involved avoiding the set too. He sees on the official The Graveyard Shift channels that there’s an announcement put out about an episode delay. 

It is undeniably his fault. No, he still won't answer the group chat or the several knocks at his door every day.

But because the universe is invested in his sorrow, you seem to find him wherever he goes.

In the garden, digging through the vegetable bed.

In the storeroom, looking through oversized cookware.

When he walked into the alley behind the Tower and found you there, he hissed at you like a feral cat and you asked very loudly what the fuck was wrong with him. 

He checks every part of him and all his clothes for a tracker but no-- you just seem to have a karmic connection level of being exactly where he is. 

When he runs into you for the fourth time at the library, he really thinks he’s lost it.

“Are you following me?” he asks, voice sharp.

You look at him in wonder. “Your ego is so big it could have its own gravitational pull. How do you carry around your massive head all day?"

“Everywhere I go, you’re there.” He continues, finger pointing in accusation. 

“Bitch, you're the one who walked in here," you exclaim. "I’ve been here all day.”

“Doing what?”

“Who’s following who now?” you dare.

“Because you’re in this section.” He does a quick check to see what section it actually is. Witchcraft and Wizardry. He may not have known that when he accused you but he definitely was not wrong.

“Why do you care what I do here?”

Because he's wondering if he’s managed to shut down production permanently and sent a bunch of people into unemployment.

“I don’t trust you here," he settles on instead. "What are you actually doing?"

“I’m learning things. Gaining knowledge. And such." You gesture vaguely before you narrow your eyes at him. "Not that you would know, you ape.”

He scoffs. He had the intelligence of a thousand suns, mind you.

“You don’t even have a book," he counters.

“So? I’m gaining knowledge through osmosis.” You look around. “I’m absorbing.”

His nose twitches, teeth clenched.

“Whatever,” he mumbles instead, turning his attention to the bookshelf.

As he thumbs through various titles he’s too annoyed to read, a small movement catches his attention. 

He watches you from the corner of his eyes. 

“What?” you demand, this whole exchange too damn loud for a library. 

“What?” he challenges right back. “Why are you watching me?”

“Why am I– you’re the one staring at me.” You throw your hands up. “First you follow me here, second you accuse me of things that would get me burnt at the stake a couple of years ago, third you accuse me of watching you just 'cause you know you're pretty. You–”

Bucky narrows his eyes, not missing the random compliment you slipped in.

“Hold on just one second. That’s why you’ve been avoiding everyone all week.” You stare at him, wide-eyed and unrelenting.

He thinks he must have missed some part of the conversation because he has no idea why you're looking at him like you've figured him all out.

“That’s why you’ve been so jumpy and sleep deprived ever since that episode you filmed.”

Bucky’s gaze doesn’t waver, but his mind races and his breath falters for a second. There’s no goddamn way you knew what had gone down, he’d deleted every footage that could possibly–

“You missed me.”

He stops his overthinking right in its tracks.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” You tilt your head, face full of pure sympathy. “You filmed one episode without me by your side and realised you couldn’t live without me.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters, eyes pressed closed tighty, partially in relief. 

“You want me, don’t you? You want me so bad it makes you throw u–”

“Fuck off.” Bucky turns on his heel at the speed of light.

“You have a fat, raging crush–”  

“I’m fuckin' moving out.” His voice is like rocks.

“You can move out, but you can never move on, baby,” you whisper-shout. “When’d you realise you liked me, Bucky? Night one? The first hou–”

He slams the library door behind him. 

From: Stevie Left some strawberries outside your door. They’re good. 

From: Stevie How are you doing today, by the way?

From: Bucky alive

From: Bucky and thanks 

From: Stevie Anything we have to talk about? Your wood chisels didn’t break again, did they?

From: Bucky nothing im fine

From: Stevie You sure? Time for a Cypress Hills visit?

From: Bucky no im fine 

From: Stevie You haven’t left the room in a week. Beat your old record and I'm going to start getting worried here.

Bucky stares at his phone wondering how he ended up with a mother a century after his own died, before sighing.

From: Bucky going to film a video this week. im fine

From: Bucky promise 

Because there really was no other way to convince Steve that he as leaving the cave he constructed from his comforter.

From: Steve Good to hear. I’m always across the hallway if you need anything. 

From: Bucky i know. your gramophone won’t let me forget it. 

From: Steve Dick.

From: Bucky it is too damn loud. old ass

From: Steve Got a new record. Haven’t listened to it yet.

From: Bucky ill be there in 10

That Friday, Bucky walks onto the set in his finest black hoodie and darkest sunglasses, looking less like a badass and entirely like a hungover teenager. 

Before he has a chance to even register what’s going on, he is ambushed by lights, a team touching up his face and his stupid dollar store sunglasses leave him before he has a chance to protest.  

“I told you he’d show up,” you pipe up proudly from your place at the table. “Lil' shit simply missed me too–”

“Stop,” he interrupts, finally getting around to look at the set when the foundation brushes stop assaulting his line of vision. 

For a hot second, he thinks you've taken over Steve's cooking show. 

There are candles floating around, which he assumes you're holding up. A large… cauldron, gigantic wooden mixing spoons and 50 little bowls worth of ingredients are neatly arranged on the table.

“What the hell is going on?” he questions immediately. “What is all this?”

“Mise en place, baby,” you reply, shutting a book you had on the table loudly before looking at him. “You’re on dish duty. Come on.” 

“What?” His eyebrows pull into a frown. 

You dust off your hands before reaching under the table and chucking an apron at him. “Back when I worked as a line cook, the number one rule was to clean up as you go. I like to think of it as--”

“What is going on here?” he specifies, already trying to piece together your timeline in his head with every new piece of lore.

“Welcome to my kitchen, motherfucker.” Your grin is nefarious. “We're gonna do some witchcraft.” 

After he spends fifteen minutes on the phone with Maya confirming that yes, that is indeed the episode and that the heads up he needed would have reached him if he opened the seventeen million messages on the group chat– he finally comes to stand behind the bench with you, a tick in his jaw but also with enough self-awareness to be sheepish. 

He thought his grand return to the channel would be a simple video with some ghost reading or whatever, not… this. 

He turns to you, ready to reach a compromise that ends with him not having to be there at all.

But in the fifteen minutes he had turned his attention to the call, you’ve somehow convinced them to start rolling before he gets the chance to leave, so he’s immediately hit with a--

“We’re on in three…two–”

“Where is your apron?” you demand, looking him up and down.

“I’m not wearing that shit.” It had some stupid slogan like ‘Life is about taking whisks!’ and he had already been through enough.

“Jeez, annyone would think that you're not in love with me--"

"I'm not."

"--by the way you're so ungrateful. I got that custom-made for you,” you tsk. “I could've gotten the other one. Mine could've said ‘he’s my sweet potato’ and yours could've said ‘I yam’.”

Bucky experiences a whole-body chill. 

“Whatever," you dismiss with a wave of hand before looking into the camera. "Before we get started, we recognize that for some, witchcraft is a deeply meaningful religion and spiritual practice that should be approached with respect and curiosity.”

“We’re not claiming this is the definitive guide to witchcraft, we’re simply trying out a book that’s been highly recommended for better or worse, and seeing where it leads us. Whaddya say, Bucko?

You look at him for input. Bucky stares at the dusty, hole-ridden monstrosity on the table.

“What’s it called?” Bucky asks finally after a long pause.

You tap the thick, old book. “Witchcraft for Weenies: A Totally Legit Guide to Authentic Witchcraft by A. Harkness.”

“Is that the actual name or are you just making it up?”  

“Rich coming from the only one between us who actually lied on camera--" you glare at him. "I would never fabricate my sources, I’m a champion for academic integrity.”

You pick up the book to show him, flipping it towards the camera too and sure enough, the book that was basically falling apart at the binding was called exactly that.

“Let’s-a go, baby.”

You stare at him, lips pressed together. Bucky gives no inclination towards changing his answer. 

“Fine. We’re going to do this the hard way, I see.” You exhale, reaching into the pocket of your apron. 

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together when you brandish a deck of cards, yank his arm towards you and drop it into his open palm. 

“Shuffle," you command.

Something very familiar faces him.

Bucky stares at the cards before looking back at you. “Why’s my face on it?”

“It’s a tarot deck I got from Comic Con,” you insist. “Avengers themed. Now shuffle it.”

He thinks you left that card on top on purpose, but regardless, he's already been too much of a menace to the crew to be the cause of any more disturbance.

So he slowly begins, careful and skilled, before you scoff in his face.

“Faster, grandpa," you chide. “I’ve seen the way those hands cut garlic when no one’s around, I know you move faster than that.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but complies anyway, shuffling the cards with the adeptness only a certain Jim Morita could have taught him in a dark tent to keep him awake on a night watch. 

“Faster,” you goad, face smug. “Faster. Come on now, Barnes, your age finally catching up to you?”

It’s stupid– he doesn’t even know why he’s actually complying and increasing his speed. He can’t believe that he was letting you pressure him.

“C’mon, faster, Barnes, you abso-”

His hands were moving so fast by then that they’d have to put the video in slow motion to catch all the movement.

“Faster–” and in the commotion, a few cards fly out.

“Brilliant, thanks.” You slam them down on the table, plucking the deck out of his hand before he has a chance to process why the fuck he actually went ahead with what you were trying. 

“Right, so the universe has decided that these will be your cards,” you tell him, and he finally looks down at what had fallen out of the deck. 

The cards show Sam’s Captain America shield, Carol Danvers, and Spider-Man, with words written below.

“The Star, Six of Cups, The Hanged Man,” you read out thoughtfully.  

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they’ll fall out of his skull. 

“You know, I’m going to just make a general assumption and say you need help.” You hum to yourself. “I'm gonna make a potion to get you some.”

“Get me some?” He's too busy trying to figure out what the cards could possibly mean to see that he's walked straight into that one.  

“Get you some perspective. You need an advisor who’ll dish it to you straight. Give you the facts, no bullshit–”

"No." He had too many of those in his life and he has had enough of people being “honest” and "straightforward” and telling him his moustache was ugly every time he dared to try out a new look–

Until you reach under the table and again and suddenly, there’s a white creature buzzing around on the table in front of him.

“Behold– your new advisor,” you announce.

From the corner of his eye Bucky can see the production team scrambling to figure out where the hell this was going. He lip-reads producers’ orders to find adoption links or resources to insert during post-production, and teasers on social media, to make this look more planned. Great, so no one was prepared-- it wasn't just him.

“Whose fucking cat is this?” He looks down at it, all white except for a few brown spots all around, green eyes and evil in her aura.

“Relax, I'll give her back when we're done.”

“Give her ba–” he echoes. “Where did you get her?” 

“The alley outside,” you coo, rubbing under her chin. “I checked and she doesn’t have an owner. But look at her, she’s meant to be here.”

Bucky looks at the cat. The cat looks back at him, irises narrowing into slits. His nose twitches. 

“You can’t just bring a cat–”

“Remember to adopt, not shop,” you say to the camera before clapping your hand. “Anyway. If my potion goes according to plan, she will be giving you unsolicited life advice for eternity.” 

“You will be unemployed, then,” Bucky manages to add while watching the chaos unfold behind the camera.

“Nonsense, I’m irreplaceable.” You grin. “Besides, you can't manufacture chemistry like this even in a cauldron.” 

You send him a flying kiss. His glower was as sharp as laser beams.

“Let’s get started.” You grin at the camera. 

Bucky tries to pet the cat. She hisses at him.

Well all-fucking-right then.

One hour later, things have descended into madness of the most mundane kind.

It was precisely when you started telling him ten minutes in that a book had nothing on your instincts and raw intelligence that Bucky knew that this was going to shit. 

The cauldron was on an electric stove unlike the open fire demanded by the book because the team had enough foresight to know it would be a fire hazard.

You toss in something that looks like cardamom but he isn’t sure at this point. He just wanted to get away from the bright lights and the strange smiling liquid boiling awai.

The cat sits obediently by your side, watching curiously. He is convinced that she is evil.

Unfortunately, Bucky has had to hold her back twice when she tried to stick her paw in to attack a bubble, and at this point, he doesn’t think he has it in him to do it a third time. 

You read the recipe as if it makes any sort of fucking difference now.

“We’re almost done,” you sing. 

Bucky nurses his headache.  “Don't give me hope.” 

“Put some more reegelbeetle seeds in,” you dictate. “This is gonna work, I can feel it.”

Bucky uses his free hand to do as you say. He doesn’t even think it’s the right one, he just reaches for whatever is closer to you and you don't seem to care either.

You toss in some more seeds, stir twice and then turn off the stove. 

“Boom.” You lift the spoon up, watching the thick liquid drip back. “This is either a talking potion or a hex.” 

"Hex to do what?”

“I think it activates dormant allergies.” You squint at the book that literally had no significance besides being a prop. “You got any?”

“No.” But it makes him think of Steve’s pollen allergies. 

“Oh. Well, then there’s only one outcome here.”

“Alright, here we go.” Of the gigantic pot that you’d just stirred, you fish the tiniest amount out on the smallest spoon he’d ever seen, which you also apparently stored in the vast space that was your apron pocket.

The cat watches you hold the spoon near its face.

It takes a sniff. Then two. Finally, after deeming it non-poisonous, it sticks out its tongue the tiniest bit and takes a lick.

The whole crew is silent.

Bucky’s hand is still pressing against his temples.

“Tell us your name,” you urge, voice hopeful.

The cat looks at Bucky, and for a second, something akin to understanding flashes in its eyes. It’s uncanny and weird and something about it unsettles him deeply. 

You seem to catch it too because you look at him in surprise. He looks back at you, face pulled into a frown. 

And for a moment, he wonders. If you'd somehow done it. Because there’s no fucking way–

Then it meows.

He exhales.

Your shoulders drop as you let out an “Aw, man.”

"Great. Goodbye. Like and subcribce to the bell icon," he calls out, dusting his hands against his pants.

Someone from the production crew sneezes.

Both of you turn to him immediately. 

At the same instant, someone else all the way on the opposite end sneezes again, and the whole crew turns to look at them, before another sneezes in the front.

“We did it!” you cheer.

“We didn’t do jack,” Bucky interjects immediately as the crew errupts into a cacophony of chatter and sneezes.  

“It’s a hex that activates allergies and they’re sneezing,” you point towards them with the spoon, triumphant.

“You threw fifteen fuckin' pounds of pepper in there,”  he argues. “You've turned this room into a sandstorm of dry spices. This proves nothing.” 

“I’ve connected the dots.” Your eyes shine, ignoring him.  

“You didn’t connect shit.”

“I’ve connected them.” 

Someone in the corner sneezes. He wonders if Steve’s allergies would be activated by the trace amounts of... cursed soup that he carries with him back to the floor. 

“Well, we can’t leave them like this, Bucky.” You look around, tsking. “We gotta make a reverse hex or something.”

“You can,” he says. “It’s called opening the windows.”

“Nope,” you pop the last syllable. “We’re making another potion. C’mon.”

“First of all, this is not a potion–” he begins, but is interrupted by a buzz on his phone, the screen lit up by a text on the groupchat. 

From: Maya I don’t give a shit if it’s placebo or not. Make a damn potion before you get sued for hexing employees. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. 

“Beautiful. Grab the ash sphinx flakes,” you brandish another big cauldron from fuck knows where.

Bucky stares at you, unmoving.

“Just get the oregano,” you sigh. 

The cat tries sticking her paw in the pot again.

Bucky feels a sneeze incoming.

Whether the hex and subsequent anti-hex Maya forced you to make at gunpoint was real or not, is yet to be determined scientifically.

What actually does happen, is the damn apron you give him carries enough trace amount of your stupid experiment, that it somehow activates Steve’s very real pollen allergy. Bucky finds himself on edge for the rest of the day every time the man rattles the walls with his middle aged dad sneezing.

It carries on over to his show, which means Steve’s episode on baking a 1950s chocolate cake from tomato soup is edited extremely strangely to cut out every sneeze.

Which means Nat’s episode on spy inaccuracies in Argylle takes twice as long to film because they have to take a few seconds every time Steve’s sneezes interrupt her from the set next door.

Which means Bruce’s video on the science behind memory is delayed on shooting.

All in all, something does seemed to have been hexed, but it mostly seems to be everyone’s fucking productivity.

Finally, everyone manages to get through the day, and the videos are sent to post production.

The same night when everyone’s gathered at the dining table to commemorate the end of another shoot day, Bucky slips out, knowing that Steve would save him a slice of pizza if he never returned. 

He goes back to the library to return his copy of Understanding Wood Finishing, when his curiosity leads him back down a familiar path. 

It’s where he finds you again, in the same corner as the last time, on the floor, surrounded by shelves.

“You again.” You quirk an eyebrow when he appears from the shadows. "Aren't you supposed to be eating pizza?"

“What are you absorbing now?” he asks, voice low for once, respecting the sanctity of the library now that day had slipped into night and everything seemed a bit more solemn now.

“Nothing,” you answer.

“Then why are you here?” 

He figured you’d be out there, introducing everyone to the cat that was now set to be roaming the halls, before someone assumed it was a shapeshifting enemy and dealt with it accordingly.

“God forbid someone get some peace and quiet for once,” you mumble. “It’s too loud out there.”

Oh.

You don’t say anything else, leaning back against the bookshelf with your eyes closed.

There really isn't a need for more words. He gets it. 

The understadning leaves silence in its wake. Bucky doesn't really have anything to say.

“Did you come here just to stare at me?” you ask finally. “Did you finally admit your feelings?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Only a matter of time.” You smile before changes to something more subdued, a bit more serious. “You wanna talk about what’s actually been bugging you for the last week?”

Bucky looks at you wearily. “The tarot cards tell you something?”

You eye him. “Not more than what’s obvious. Wanna talk about it?”

He swallows, throat suddenly feeling like it's closing in on itself. 

“No.”

“Alrighty.” 

You say nothing more than that, leaving the both of you in relative quiet, save for the buzz of the warm fluorescent light above. 

Bucky takes an awkward seat next to you on the floor.

You pry open an eye to look at him in suspicion.

“Y’mind?” he manges.

���Mind what?”

He gestures to himself uncomforably, readiy to jump up and leave at any second.

You observe him for a second, and for once he stares back with no irritation in his look, just permission.

“No, you can sit.” You close your eyes. “So long as you don’t tell anyone else 'bout this place.” 

If there’s anything Bucky’s good at, it’s keeping a secret. 

He settles back into the shelf with an exhale, letting the weight of day roll off his shoulders.

You wordlessly slide a thermos towards him. He doesn’t even have to open it to know it’s the damn soup from that afternoon.

And if he’s being honest, it doesn’t taste that bad at all. 

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Next part

[blood-and-pizza]

... OH MY GOD. I HAD A EUREKA MOMENT ABOUT THE BOOK "THE WEEK BEFORE"

Okay hear me out: there's a part where Ralph is reminiscing about how Foxy was once on the same stage as Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica, but was "banished" to Pirate's Cove. (Ralph even put the out of order sign at Pirate's Cove there himself, though I'm not sure if that's relevant at all.)

Now... you know how Michael Afton is Foxy Bully? What if the book is actually telling us that Michael USED to be friends with the other bullies, but after what happened to his little brother Dave, Michael was banished from the friend group? Like... none of them wanted to speak to Michael ever again, because he killed his brother?

And mind you, these kids couldn't have been more than 12 or 13 at the time, so I can't exactly blame Michael's ex-friends for ditching him.

What do you guys think? Am I reading into it too much? I know Scott loves leaving breadcrumbs in his books...

One more thought: if Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie remained on the same stage... then MAYBE Freddy Bully, Chica Bully, and Bonnie Bully remained friends after ditching Mike. Meaning...

Oswald's dad, Cassie's dad, and some third kid's parent were all friends while they were all still alive.

Cassie's dad appears to be dead, his soul possessing Mask Bot. It's not unreasonable to assume that Oswald's dad is still alive, assuming the ending to the original story is the canon one. However, we don't know how long that will last. And then there's Chica Bully... whom we haven't met yet as of this time. We know nothing about them, but it's safe to assume they might be a parent like their remaining two buddies. But that's still only a guess.

Does Oswald's dad know at least one of his friends is dead??? Does he know Mike is dead???

[cybertroniannugget]

Gift Giving Bumblebee x Reader

Dec 6

Look at that cute face

Fyi, I make sure to always use real lyrics for Bumblebee xD List at the end as proof.

Spotify is my best friend when writing Bumblebee.

As much as I love him, writing the bay version is tough. Always searching for lyrics that fit.

It's a little rushed, but better late than never right?

It's pure fluff

🎶Give it to me baby-Boots with the fur-tonight🎶1

“You want my boots?”

The yellow scout nods, pointing at your shoes.

“I mean sure, but why?”

🎶It's a wonderful surprise🎶2

“But that's no American tradition though.”

🎶Cuz I don't care🎶3

“So you wanna gift me something through St. Nicholas Day?”

🎶I love you, always forever🎶4

“Love you too, Bee. I'll give you my boots later, alright?”

He buzzes excitedly.

“Ey Bee, I need you on patrol with me.”, Jazz talks over the comm link.

Bumblebee’s antannae fold back and he whirrs a little annoyed.

You pat his cheek, smiling.

“I know, we rarely see each other, but this is important. I'll be here for a while.”

Another sad buzz echoes from his vocalizer, before he transforms and drives away.

Later in the evening you receive a message from Bee, asking you to put your boots outside your door.

“Okay, that's actually cute.”, you chuckle while walking outside.

Hearing someone round the corner you quickly walk back inside, leaving your shoes where Bee asked you to put them.

He has been busy lately with training under the new agreements between earth's government.

Daily exercises for the soldiers where they have to learn how to fight Deceptions.

And when he wasn't busy with that, he had to go on routine patrols.

When you wake up the next day, the first thing you do is checking outside to find your boots filled with Christmas chocolate and a note saying ‘I love you my honeybee’

Quick on your way back inside with the shoes in your hand, you put them down onto a chair, admiring what has been put in them.

“Oh, he even bought new headphones.”, you say, holding the packaging.

Taking your phone out of your pant's pocket, you dial the access code for his comm link, holding the device to your ear, waiting for him to respond.

“Bee, that's very cute, but you didn't have to do that..”, you say as he picks up with an excited buzz.

🎶I'm hopelessly devoted to you🎶5

“Where you at right now?”

🎶By the hangar🎶6

“Alright, wait for me there.”

A few minutes later, you walk into the wide open hangar where that yellow Bot you have grown to love stands waiting.

🎶Hello🎶7

“Hey there, Bee.”, you say smiling.

🎶How was it for you-Christmas present🎶8

“It was so sweet, thank you Bee.”, you say while walking up to him.

The scout crouches down to be more on your level and whirrs happily.

🎶Because I'm happy🎶9

You smile as you stand before him.

“So, gift giving?”

The scout buzzes confused.

“It's your love language.”

His optics widen, antannae standing up now as you said that.

“Don't worry, I love you too Bee. I figured something was up.”

Hugging him, as much as the size difference allowed, you couldn't stop smiling.

🎶You can be my safety zone-Nothing can come between You and I🎶10

You chuckle as you look at him, a hand on his cheek.

🎶You ready?🎶11

“Let's see how the others will react…”

Bee chuckles.

Here's the proof guys:

1 Pretty fly for a white guy-The Offspring

Low-Flo Rida

don't stop me now-Queen (obv)

2 Friday I'm in love-The Cure

3 I don't care- Ed Sheeran&Justin Bieber

4 I love you always forever- Donna Lewis

5 Hopelessly devoted to you- Olivia Newton John

6 Hangar- 8485

7 Hello-Adele

8 How was it for you-James, Christmas present- Doris Day

9 Happy- Pharrell Williams

10 The Ocean-Mike Perry & Shy Martin You and I- One Direction

11 Price Tag- Jessie J & B.o.B

[captain-mj]

Angels of Digitalism

I have the Rock Star AU y'all ordered! Changed it a little to explain why Soap is interacting with them. Will do a part 2 if asked. Very heavy on the GhostRoach

Soap saw the ad and almost flipped. Simple ad honestly. Digital artist needed. Decent pay but there was a line that said they would be open to negotiation. All of that was interesting sure. 

But the thing that drew his attention was the name of the band asking. 

Angels of Digitalism. 

His favorite fucking band was asking if someone could help them with some digital art. 

Something he did all the time!! He was looking for jobs right now and this was perfect. 

Soap applied immediately and almost immediately got a reply back. A little surprising just how fast they responded. 

“Can you get transportation to this location?” He followed it up with an address. 

Soap checked the distance. “Yeah, it’s not too far.”

“Good. Be here as soon as you can. Like…. Right now.”

“Oh! Okay!” Soap rushed to get dressed. He tried to find some of his better clothing that followed the aesthetic of the band. Ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. After some thought, he decided to do a plain one. He didn’t want to wear a band shirt in case it came off weird. Wearing one of their shirts may seem obsessive but wearing someone else’s may be off putting. A few minutes later and he realized maybe he was putting a little too much thought into his shirt. 

Soap rushed over there and while in the car, he thought over the band. So on paper, there were three members. Ghost, the back up vocalist and guitar player, Roach, the main vocalist, and an unknown masked member that goes on stage and fucks with a computer occasionaly. All of them wore masks, covering all of their faces but occasionally letting their hair down, but the third member didn’t even have a name. There were also drums and other instruments, but they weren’t done by a person, but by algorithms and bots. It was part of the appeal. A mix of techno and old style punk that was the whole point. Soap genuinely loved the music, but there was also the performances. It made sense that they’d need a digital artists. A lot of it was based on lights, colors and costuming. Well… So were most performances Soap realized after thinking about it for a minute. But he loved watching their concerts. 

The two of them danced so well. Both of them being so attractive did not hurt. During the last performance, Roach had been shirtless and he did some… Soap had watched Magic Mike and that had been the closest thing he had seen to the dancing he had done on Ghost, all while he continued to play guitar like nothing was happening. 

Also, there was occasionally a person that appeared. It was always confusing because they could never be photographed but 

Soap already knew he didn’t really have a chance. He was not going to be the y/n in a fanfiction who gets either of them. Let alone both of them. 

He got there faster than he expected and rushed out so he could go inside. 

There were two men standing out front. One of them looked… vaguely like Ghost. A little smaller, but he supposed the stage may make him look bigger. The other could be Roach. A little bigger, but… stage stuff. 

Yeah. Stage stuff. 

The smaller one was Hispanic and had a grey hoodie on while the other had a long sleeved tan shirt on and jeans. Both smelled like cologne, but the taller one smelled like he drowned himself in the stuff. 

“Hey.” The American accent out of “Ghost” caught him off fucking guard. “Soap?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m Alex. This is Rodolfo.” Neither offered their hands to shake so Soap kept his by his sides. 

Soap nodded. “Ah. Little surprised you guys told me your names.”

They stared at him blankly before Alex laughed. “I’m not fucking Ghost. He’s inside. Still wearing a skull mask. Roach is also inside. I’m just the guy running the computer.”

“Oh…”

“I’m their manager. You think I look like him? He’s a twink.” 

Alex glanced at Rodolfo and motioned to him. “I mean… aren’t you also a twink?”

“Get fucked. Anyway, no. I’m not Roach.” Rodolfo sighed. “We have a laptop that’s hooked up to the backdrop. Anything you draw on the laptop appears there. We need you to design some things. Also, do you do traditional art? Like painting and stuff?”

“Yeah.” 

“Cool. We’ll double your pay to also paint the backdrop. Three colors that correspond to the lights. Each disappears when a different light is on.” Rodolfo started to walk and Soap quickly followed to keep listening. “You paint the stuff. You made the designs. We have three weeks to do.”

“What designs do you need?”

“Ghost and Roach will tell you. Basically they’ll show you the routine and you design something around it. They seemed pretty excited about this one since Ghost won’t be playing the guitar.”

“Oh? Why won’t he be playing?”

“Injury.” 

Soap stared at him for a moment before realizing he was being serious. “What?”

“Injured his wrist so he can’t play.” Rodolfo looked at him.

“Won’t that prevent him from performing?” 

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s not in a cast.”

Soap frowned and just vaguely nodded after a minute. “Yeah, okay…”

“Anyway, come on stage.” Rodolfo stepped up on to the stage and Soap followed. Silks, like those from an acrobatic performance, were hanging above them and there was someone wrapped around them high above their heads. 

“Roach. Come down and meet Soap.” 

Soap looked up and watched him spin down, twirling and he tangled the silks right before he hit the ground. 

Okay, that was the exact size he expected. Roach only had a medical mask on. He had medium brown hair that fell around his ears and bright green eyes. Right now, he only had sweatpants and socks on. 

Yeah, definitely a twink. Though he was toned. Probably from his performances and constant practice. 

“Nice to meet you.” Soap kicked himself for his awkwardness but also was happy he didn’t stutter. 

Roach looked him up and down before meeting his eye again, just staring. 

“My name is Soap. Like Rodolfo said.” Soap tried, feeling a bit awkward.

“He won’t talk.” Ghost, he could tell by the fact that his voice was both really deep, gravely and clearly from Manchester, spoke right behind him. Soap definitely did not jump out of his skin. He glanced around but Rodolfo had disappeared. 

“Oh. Like a pre concert thing? Makes sense.”

“No. He’s mute.” 

Soap frowned. “I… I feel like I’m missing something.” 

“He can’t talk. Is that a problem?” Ghost growled at him and Soap looked up at him. 

Oh. 

He was a little scarier up close. Tattoos went all the way up his arms and he had his skull mask on. 

“N-no! Not at all! Just how do you guys… sing?”

“He uses a vocaloid. Obviously.”

“Oh. Yeah, no one knows that.” 

Ghost laughed for a second. “Seriously?? No one?”

“There’s an entire conspiracy theory about it actually. Because his jaw doesn’t move.” Soap glanced at Roach, noticing he was blushing. For a second, he thought he may have embarrassed him before noticing that no, he was just laughing. Roach looked at him, clearly smiling and happy and Soap started to feel flustered. 

Ghost hummed. “God our fans are stupid. Im retiring.”

“NO YOU’RE FUCKING NOT SIMON.” Rodolfo screamed across the venue. “PUT WAY TOO MUCH MONEY INTO THIS. OUR LABEL WOULD KILL US.”

Soap frowned. “Man i really thought it was just the three of you guys…” So his favorite band had more hands on deck than he thought. 

“Nope. Anyway, since Rudy left, I will show you where to go.” Ghost showed him the laptop and both him and Roach watched over his shoulder. Soap quietly opened it, deciding not to bring up how unsafe it was to not have a password. 

“So what did you guys want me to do?”

“So we’re going to have lights flashing on and off that will change the coloring. We’re going to be covered in different paints so there will be tons of color. We need a background in black and white that’s going to follow us during our routine.” 

Soap nodded. “Let me see your routine real quick. I want to draw the lines of movement so that I can make sure I match it.”

The two of them nodded and a second later he heard music he didn’t recognize. Before he could get excited at potentially hearing brand new music, he realized it was Mitski. 

They practiced using Mitski. 

Soap had a lot of feelings about that. 

The two of them circled around each other, both of them masked but wearing much less clothing. There was also the fact that there were no bright lights or makeup to obscure them. 

Soap recorded their performance and watched them. 

Ghost grabbed Roach suddenly and spun him, Roach’s legs going around his waist as they moved. They separated and Roach started to dance along the beams with Ghost all but chasing him. Roach grabbed one of the silks and jumped out of Ghost’s grasp, slowly twirling. They slowed for a second, but Soap wasn’t sure if it was part of the routine. The two of them had made eye contact and they seemed to be enveloped in each other before they went back to moving. 

Their dancing was beautiful. Soap wondered if they were professional dancers or just picked it up due to their performances. Roach moved like a gymnast, twirling in the air and moving with an unearthly grace. 

Finally the song ended and Roach ended up in Ghost’s arms, the two of them just staring. 

Soap paused. He thought Alejandro, the artist they occasionally hung out with, was dating Roach. 

Well, now that he was thinking of it. Alejandro said he was dating someone in the band and Soap had just found out there were a lot more members than he thought. 

He thought so hard that he almost missed the quick kiss Roach gave Ghost’s cheek before stepping away and looking at Soap. 

Soap gave him a thumbs up and cut off the recording. He then drew a mockup of the general lines of motion, making them a little big so if there were slight deviances, the designs would still follow their movements. 

Soap sat on the couch in the back stage area and started to draw. They moved around him and occasionally one of them would look at what he was doing, give criticism and then keep going. He kinda thought that should’ve gave him more instructions if they had opinions but so far all Ghost said was “Get creative”. So a black and white canvas that follows their movements. No theme. There would be colors. Fantastic. 

Soap tried to put… something together. He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder by Alex.

“Want coffee?”

“Oh. Sure?”

“Good.” He handed Soap forty dollars. “Go get coffee for everyone please. I’ll text you our orders.” 

Soap stared at him but Alex was already wandering off. Look, technically everyone else seemed to also be working hard. Alex was clearly coding something, Ghost and Roach were still practicing and working on music and Rodolfo had a small pile of paperwork in front of him that he clearly needed to get done. Some of the slips of paper had giant red letters and that didn’t look promising. 

But he was also working!! What gives??

After silently fuming about it for a minutes, but ultimately deciding that Alex already gave him the money, Soap went and got the stupid coffee. Rodolfo had an iced caramel macchiato with six extra shots of espresso, Roach had a white chocolate mocha, Ghost had a shaken espresso and Alex had a black coffee. Soap stared at him for a minute to see if he was being pretentious, but he seemed to genuinely like the coffee. 

Like a freak. 

Who likes black coffee from coffeeshops? You make it at home or its just not good. 

While staring at Alex, he watched him kick his leg into the table and it bent. In Half. Not at the knee. 

Soap gagged and Alex laughed. “It’s just a prosthetic. Don’t worry.”

“How did you lose your leg?” Soap asked before wincing. “Oh, sorry. Don’t answer that.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I lost in the war.” 

Soap blinked, trying to do the mental math to think of Alex’s age versus the wars in the area.

“Not like the military. It was me, a dumpster and some raccoons.”

Soap stared at him, trying to figure out the joke here. There was a joke. What was the joke?

“Yeah… the Dumpster one. Lost two raccoons that day. What a waste. They were good dumpster diving buddies, ya know?”

“I’ve never went dumpster diving.”

“Really?” Alex looked so genuinely surprised Soap felt like he should be offended. Instead, he just walked away. 

Soap settled down with his own drink, something unfortunately low in caffeine since he had to be careful with his meds, and started working again. He wanted to get rough sketches of the animations for the background, animations would work better plus they were projecting anyway, he wanted this to be cool and impress these guys even if they were… much more… 

Alright, so they were kinda losers. Still hot though. Even the scary small one. 

The lights went out across the entire venue and Soap let out a… less than manly scream. A phone flashlight lit up in front of him and he blinked.

“Uh… Which of you is it?”

Roach tilted the light so it illuminated his face. He smiled at him and offered him his hand. Soap took it and Roach gently led him outside. It had gotten dark and only now did he realize how long he had been there. 

Roach looked at him for a moment before punching his shoulder and texting him. 

“See you tomorrow - :)”

Soap felt so giddy at having the Roach’s phone number now. “See you tomorrow. When should I come by?”

“We’ll be arriving at 12 so any time after that works.” 

Ghost, Soap could tell because who else would have a helmet with a skull on it, turned on his motorcycle and waved to them. Roach rushed over and got on the back, arms wrapping snugly around Ghost’s waist. Ghost gave a two finger salute to Soap before they both left, leaving Soap to stand there. 

Not the most eventful first day, but they would be working together for at least two weeks. Maybe longer if he could convince them to keep him around. 

Soap finally let the little freak out he had been holding in since that morning in. 

[sizzleissues]

If you feed my work or others word to an AI just going to let you know I’ll feed you to a meat grinder. Just please, don’t. Educate yourself on the harm and understand why creators don’t want their voice replicated by mindless robots.

AI does not have my or anyone else’s lived experience. Even if you still disagree with it taking over jobs while using it to make art, copy voices or write for you who are actively training it to eventually take over jobs. The arts are the first to be hit but nothing is stopping technology like this to have significant impacts on your career/ future career.

It disgusts me what I’ve already seen of it used. People making celebs say shit, all fun and games until ‘tape’s start ‘leaking’ that are completely fake because some bozo trained a bot to sound like a celeb to say movie lines and someone misuses it. What’s stopping companies using ai voices to respond to helplines and calls instead of real people, they already have AI talking to you over text.

Side hustle bros have started using different AI’s to write ideas, then scripts for those ideas, say the script and create a video to play under the audio to prints videos for youtube and tiktok. This is practically horrifying as AI has no way to fact check itself without human intervention. Misinformation will spread at an alarming rate as well as inflammatory content as AI realises that’s the main way to get ‘clicks’ never mind if the shit it says is true. Also this type of cheap soulless content being more prevalent than ever as at least before Mike from Corporation company had to sit and edit it all together.

We need to let AI become that thing we thought was going to change everything but instead we realise that taking the humanity out of so many aspects of our lives is depressing.

[melishade]

I just realized that if Optimus and Megatron argue about the nicknames they gave Eren and Armin, they'd technically be talking in the third person.

Megatron: Why are you calling your pet by that name.

Optimus: Firstly, he's not a pet. Second, because Eren reminds me of him. I don't understand why that upsets you.

Megatron: You don't under-?! That brat has nothing in common with Megatronus!

Optimus: *tries not to smile* They're both temperamental and impulsive but also work hard for what they believe in.

Megatron: Bullshit. That human is an annoying piece of scrap that can't keep its mouth shut.

Optimus: Go ahead and say all the negative things you want about Eren. It will only add to the list of things he and Megatronus have in common.

Megatron: *his left optic twitches* What is that supposed to mean?!

Optimus: I'm not sure. *tilts his head towards a young Armin* Why don't you ask Orion Pax over there to explain it to you.

Megatron: ...

Megatron: That's different.

Optimus: How, pray tell, is it different?

Megatron: Because that child is the splitting imagine of Orion. He's an arrogant little know-it-all who can't take his optic off of books for too long without throwing a fit.

Optimus: *crosses his arms* Orion never claimed to know everything. And he most certainly didn't throw fits.

Megatron: Really? Well, Megatron wasn't as impulsive as you made him out to be. He was just defending himself from our world's injustice.

Optimus: That's a nice way of saying he punched a lot of bots in the faceplate. It's a good thing Orion was there to keep him from getting arrested.

Megatron: Oh, don't even start with that.

Everyone listening in on their conversation:

Previous Episode of TFP Optimus in Episode 1

The only ones who would have any idea what's going on is Hanji, Erwin, Mike, and Levi, only because they are aware. Levi's drinking his tea, still wondering if they actually had a romantic relationship. Hanji's furiously writing down notes, and Erwin and Mike are just so fucking done. Because it's surreal to them. That Optimus Prime, the calmest person they've ever met, is having a full blown argument with this guy. Hanji tried to get this guy to smile with heavy difficulty and injuries, but one word from Megatron and suddenly they're acting like kids!

But besides that, I haven't really integrated Armin into the story much, have I? I need to fix that.

So because Wall Maria wasn't taken, Armin's grandfather was still alive. They still saw Eren and Mikasa, but one day they were acting weird. Armin noticed how scared Eren and Mikasa looked. He tried to get them to talk about it, but they didn't want to. And then one day, they were just gone. He visited their home and it was just deserted. He reported it to the MPs, but he knew they wouldn't do much.

Then the king is replaced, and humanity isn't actually extinct. But the people outside the walls want them dead because they can somehow turn into titans. And then...Armin's grandfather passes due to his old age. Now, Armin is all alone. He has no one to help him. No one to protect him. He was...heartbroken. His tears were then replaced with a steely gaze. If no one was going to protect him, then he would have to learn to protect himself. He was not going to die lying down like this. He decided he would join the military, and join the Survey Corps. The world might be occupied by others, but there was still an outside world and he wanted to see it.

He does what he has to do to survive on his own, and when he was old enough, he ended up joining the military. And as he stood there on induction day. Armin nearly gasped in shock as he saw Eren and Mikasa in line. When they are all dismissed and Sasha is forced to run the rest of the day. Armin runs and tackles Eren and Mikasa into a hug. Both are shocked to see him here, but they are so relieved to see him alive. Armin tears are quickly replaced with anger as he shoves Eren and demands what the hell happened.

Eren and Mikasa are more than happy to explain. They tell about what they found in Grisha's basement, how they had to get protection and stay with the Survey Corps, how they got to meet Captain Levi and Optimus Prime. They do end up apologizing for not telling Armin sooner, but it was advised to not tell Armin or he would be targeted and possibly killed. The two ask Armin what happened with him and how was his grandfather, but...Armin laments that he passed away.

And Eren and Mikasa feel guilty. Armin was left all alone. They didn't mean to leave him like that, but they had no choice. And they promise Armin that they won't leave him like that again.

But then the random accident during training that reveals Eren as a titan shifter complicates everything. Keith, thankfully through his own connections, contacts Erwin about it and he shows up with Optimus. The 104th are just gawking at the sight. The Commander of the Survey Corps and the Savior of Humanity? Here? There's just no way! Armin was stunned to see such an advanced titan in their presence, but he still hadn't seen his actual form. Only the holoform.

This is also the very first time Bertholdt and Annie see him up close.

Armin can only watch as they talk to Eren, Mikasa, and Keith in private. And Armin is dreading it. They were going to leave. They were going to leave again. They were going to be taken away from him and he would be all alone. Armin feels his stomach drop, but he forces himself to not cry. He wasn't going to cry.

But something unexpected happens. Erwin tells Armin that he was going to come with them, taking Armin by surprise. But Erwin says they told him that Armin was a close friend, and they didn't want Marley getting wind of this and putting him in danger. Armin turns to Eren, but Eren is steadfast, reminding him of the promise they made. And Armin nearly cries right there.

Eren, Mikasa, and Armin end up going with Erwin and Optimus back to Survey Corps headquarters and when they get there, Armin is surprised to find Carla already there talking to Captain Levi begging him for answers. Eren calls out to her, and she quickly rolls over to him and hugs him with relief and sorrow. Armin still doesn't know what's going on, but he yells in shock as Optimus transforms into his bipedal mode because he wasn't expecting that! But he can't help but be in awe.

But then, Armin gets the full explanation of the titan powers, and he is devastated. Eren, his first friend, his best friend, was going to die in 13 years. Carla was already devastated and Mikasa has to keep a brave face and comfort her surrogate mother, but Armin didn't know what to do now. All his excitement and uncertainty was replaced with dread. Armin is just in a state of shock the rest of the time, barely registering anything and quietly nodding along. He's taken to a spare room. Mikasa is with Carla, trying to console her, while Eren is with military command to discuss things further. And Armin is left alone again.

Armin ends up going to the kitchen to get something to drink, but just feels his hands shaking as he's holding the cup in his hands. Anger finally takes over and he chucks it, only for someone to catch it as they entered the kitchen as well. Armin's scared now. He didn't mean to do that, and this guy looked terrifying. The multiple scars, the red eyes, the disinterested look as he examined the item he caught.

"I'm sure we haven't met before," he replies so casually, "So your attack just seemed unnecessary."

Armin is just confused as this newcomer walks in and puts the cup back on the table. Armin is even more bewildered as he just grabs a sack of water and leaves, not even acknowledging his existence.

A few days later after everything has calmed down, Armin spots Megatron talking with Optimus in bipedal mode and is terrified. What kind of titan was that?!

"Oh, that's Galvatron," Eren answered with distaste, "He's an asshole."

Armin is able to put two and two together and realize the human form he saw that day was 'Galvatron'. His fear is now replaced with curiosity. Eren and Mikasa didn't mention him before. Why was he learning about him now?

Additional info:

-Optimus does end up giving a formal greeting to Armin, and Armin can't help but be amazed. Although learning that there's life outside of the planet shocks Armin to his core.

-Armin, Mikasa, and Eren still learn how to use 3D gear. Just with the Survey Corps and not the 104th. Which oddly enough, improves their skills because they are much more experienced in using 3D gear.

-Armin can't help but stare at Megatron sometimes, but he quickly turns away whenever Megatron catches it. He's aware. Armin's terrible at bullshitting.

-Hanji is experimenting on Eren like wild fire. And Optimus and Levi have to find ways to restrain her.

-Armin catches a glimpse of what's going on with the Marley situation, and catches a brief glimpse of Zeke. He brings up to everyone that he looks like Grisha, and they are finally able to put two and two together that Zeke is Grisha's first son. This impresses Erwin.

(Still Megatron building a relationship and ultimately calling Armin 'Pax' would take a little more time and I am tired right now.)

[spixster]

Hey Every!!!

Hey everybody! I’ve got some bad news haha… So this “post” I made a while back, referenced a Deltarune project I wanted to work on. This project was going to be a comic series based on my interpretation of chapters 3-7. At first I was ecstatic on working on this series, but as time went on I realized how difficult and time consuming this was going to be. As much as I want to work on this, I don’t think I can undertake such a project as there’s other more original projects I want to focus on. I’m sorry for anyone that wanted to see this project happen. However I still do want to share my ideas on the contents of the project, mostly the characters and the ideas behind them and other miscellaneous stuff. I’ll gladly answer any questions pertaining to any information about my interpretation of the chapters, this can span to the characters themselves, general chapter information, or questions about me I guess (nothing too personal though.) With that being said below this chunk of text, I drew all the main/secret bosses of each chapter including chapters 1 and 2, I also have the finished version of the secret boss portrait down below as promised!

If there's anyone I missed please let me know.

Credits:

Jevil, Spamton, Seamm, Dess, Mad Mew Mew: Toby Fox

Consola, Von doo, Poppy, False Angel, “Tara”, R.A. Tenna, Raven, Mother Mina, Bella, Sire, Knookly, and Pawnly: Me

Radiola: Modtro64

Ad Von Vampirel, O. Vermina: GoatFromTheStars

Halojack: Heucycles

Skuntle Bingoid: WinterImpact

Camellia, Hycrisik, Mantle Keeper: RV Pine

Speak 'n Spell/HEAVEN SAYS: Chart

Fuzz (the song): tempotastic

Fuzz (the cat GIF): deinbag

Lumia: KateBulka

Occazio, Foanne: ZET

Axhorn: u/SolarPunch33

Screepto: Local H00ligan

Rosey: Bob. T. C

Figurleen: u/MemeStirFry

Mike's Big Showdown: Sad bread

Solis: Marineflames

So Sorry: Samael

Astrochew: Hogridah

Brandal C, Fakeris: The Joker

Glyde: Mike Reid

Fleur: Red

Yoshi (OG comic): SpectacleDraws

Flowery: Anne

Host: Jay

Mirror Frisk: Undertale Bits and Pieces Mod

Knight: u/Agreeable-Antelope-1

Blossoms: Wandering Makers

Thesperus: Seek

Wifrose: u/Homy_Mouly

Easill: DELTARUNE: ANOTHER CREATION team

Kass: Creepa-Bot Inc.

Quaver: u/No-Rich7876

Trawer: u/Appropriate_Secret72

Chaser: Leko

Annabun: u/Quackervoltz

[paigelts05]

Renegade AU night guards [FNAF]

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/Renegade-AU-night-guards-FNAF-1006717353

Published: Dec 31, 2023

It's about time I redrew my main guard lineup. It's not like I didn't like the old one - most of them turned out well - but one was bugging me. I didn't like how I drew Krasnyy and some of the poses felt a bit stiff, so here I am with a redraw of the main guards of the Renegade AU.

I like this one a lot better.

Under the decorative separator, you'll find the details about each guard, from left to right.

°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•🌹•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°

Vincent Taylor The Hitman 🗡️🥀⚔️ Quiet and sad, this assassin stuck in indentured servitude to a children's entertainment company has a cold demeanor that was cultivated via his parents raising him to never show any emotion and forming him into a killer since his youth. He wants nothing more than to put his blade down for good, but he knows that if he were to strike out against his employers alone, he and everyone connected to him will wind up dead, and he'd rather avoid that.

Krasnyy Guy The Journalist 🌹📹🗞️ Hardy, timid, and brave. Three words that describe the heart of this paranoid motormouthed investigative journalist. This urban survivalist has endured a lot to survive, and faces every day and night at Freddy's no matter how terrified he is, and he will always see a story to the end, no matter how dangerous it becomes. Sometimes, the torment that Golden Freddy Gerald Taylor has inflicted on him leaves him feeling like a shell of a person, but he will always push forwards. He is always willing to lend a hand to others and make friends, because he hopes that one day, with a good group of friends at his side, he will expose the truth behind everything, and it will all make him feel safe again.

Mike Schmidt The Paranormal cop 📒🔦🛡️ Sweet, caring, and fair, this man prefers to handle situations - no matter how far it has escalated - with words, kindness, and compassion. But when adversaries do not understand kindness, he makes sure that he is the one to take the brunt of the usually robotic wrath. There is a line in the sand where he draws for when  kindness is no longer an option, but he has not cornered those at the top of the Fazbear food chain yet.

Jeremy Fitzgerald The Private Investigator 🔫🔎📌 Tough as nails with a heart of gold, this PI has a plan for everything, and if his plan falls apart, he can switch to working off of his insticts within moments. So much so that his instincts appear to be fully thought out plans to those unfamiliar with his true plans, so it is widely beleived that he has a plan for everything. However, his plans usually account for that, meaning his instincts may be more calculated than what they first appear to be. Regardless, how else would he have been able to tell that Mangle was going for the throat and not the head.

Fritz Smith The Tinkerer ⚙️🛠️💻 Smart and quirky, this tech wiz is far more than what meets the eye. With his bubbly surface hiding a skilled and calculating interior, he is easy to underestimate and hard to think of as a threat, so is usually seen as the weakest link, but Fritz knows this, so also knows that he can slip around unnoticed because the moment he is noticed as an actual threat, the opposition usually either has a barrage of machinery hurtling towards them or the software the adversary was relying on has been entirely replaced with a single function that plays a weebish gif. He has also found a cycle in which he can reset the animatronics corrupted codebase to thier 'night 1' states to keep them as manageable as possible for the night staff without risking the ghosts within the bots from retaliating and immediately corrupting thier entire codebases to a full 20 threat level.

[whatudottu]

Ah yes, the two types of systems:

The Blitzwing Transformers Animated, who has alters who each have uniquely distinct appearances to the point of barely looking like the same person but are named after adjectives that describe their personality/powers in one word

And the Mike Total Drama, who has alters who have actual distinct names that still suit their personalities but all look the exact same but with different hairstyles even in headspace

(Helps that I like to headcanon Blitzwing having a very vivid and elaborate headspace where “everything is beautiful and nothing hurts” given how he’s been implied to be the creative type meanwhile Mike’s headspace canonically just looks like the inside of his brain)

As much canon it is as a Mock-Reality TV that uses diegetic cameras to have recordings of someone's headspace is at least-

I bet given the faces of the 3 hosts, Icy, Hothead, and Random would probably have their own bot looks, ones that match the altmodes they prefer; Icy of course sporting a jet (either a larger Cybertronian jet in comparison to Private's or the Earth jet he scans), Hothead with his tank, and Random being closer to the body's appearance as jet AND tank given that no one else claims it and HE was the one to convince Icy and Hothead to scan both Earth alts. And idk, maybe they also got their flash of colour where purple would be on Blitzwing's body, just to make them further appear different. I think it was the disagreement on altmode scanning that makes the system seem MORE like a system than as 3 exaggerated moods of the one guy, but they work well enough together to probably all be co-hosts of another-

The Mike Squad however... I do so adore how each of them has a personality and are considered to be very real (excluding their mistreatment in All-Stars and how Mal was handled), but like the only one that vaguely had their own look was Vito and that was only really because the body slicked their hair back and the terrifying implications that being shirtless triggers an alter to front. I mean, wouldn't it have been so cool to see Svetlana rocking a whole gymnast look? To have Chester be fully decked out in grandpa gear with a wrinkly face to match? Surely Manitoba would look much snazzier with a full Indiana Johns meets Crocodile Dundee outfit?

Part of me just thinks this is a(n unintentional) spoof of how Reality TV is a little scripted here and there, since though this wasn't the first time we the audience (and the audience of the in-universe show of Total Drama) get to see inside the contestants heads, it's certainly just... a LOT of headspace footage that would be unable to record plus the system's body just dressing and/or fronting as each alter-

God I wanna just try and draw up both systems alter's full appearance, Mike Squad might be easier because they all (seem to) present as humans but at least Blitzwing has some faces to reference for the hosting trio- can't promise anything but... haha!

[poptart-artt]

Another question for the ask thing! This time I’ll ask your thoughts on popular ships in the fandom like Fronnie! I WOULD ask your thoughts on the popular hc that Monty destroyed Bonnie, but I think I know how you feel about that lol Maybe instead I’ll ask your thoughts on the GlamMike theory?

(Tumblr didn't notify me- shame on you Tumblr mailbox!)

So, I'm a HUGE fan of Roxy x Chica as a ship (hence why I do have that ship in my AU).

I am a bit partial to Monty x Bonnie myself (obviously lol).

I don't know, it's so hard to choose! Q^Q

As for GlamMike - is that the theory that Freddy is possessed by Mike? Or have I missed something in the fandom (it's been known to happen with my poor scattered brain)? I don't think Freddy is possessed by Mike. I believe the new bot-beans are all super advanced AI, simple as that. Or maybe with Freddy it could be both. Because then I have to wonder about OUR Freddy vs. prototype Freddy and the supposed others that Vanessa basically threatened to replace our Freddy with. It's like - would they all have a similar personality to our Freddy? How much of him, then, would be programming, and how much would be Mike? (Stepping into that one room with our Freddy didn't just give him an existential crisis, it gave me one for him, lol).

Basically, I'm just having them for my AU very, very advanced AI to the point they DO have their own being and personality...to the point they may as well not be AI and are nothing close to the AI we see today. We're talking about sentient levels AI here. Consciousness, the whole nine.

I hope that explains everything! I'm so torn up with the theories floating around that I am open to anything because at this point - who knows!? But I'm positive so far that none of the new beans are possessed by ghosts, at least that's my personal belief.

[gummybear1031]

I've actually been watching good horror movies recently. "Terminator;" "Jaws;" the original "Mummy," which is racist but not as racist as expected. All of the "Friday the 13th"s up to "Jason X."

Then, my mama told me I may have been conceived during a movie called "Chopping Mall." So I HAD to watch that. (Don't worry. I wasn't; the timing is a few months off.)

Sir, why are you shooting directly into R2DBag’s metal plating? Surely, the obviously glowing weak point of his eye is where you should be aiming.

It’s been exactly a minute-and-a-half, and this movie is obviously a great idea. 

I really wanted their designations to be ACAB, not Protector. Also, I’m glad that the CEO keeps going “They can’t kill people!” while explaining all the ways in which they could kill people. 

“They remind me of your mother. It’s the laser eyes.” is amazing. 

Dude: “Absolutely nothing can go wrong.” Title: *immediate blood red lettering* CHOPPING MALL

The old couple watching the young couple PDA’ing all over the place, turning to each other like they were going to complain, and then kissing was absolutely adorable. I’m going to be real sad if they get Killbotted. 

Did malls have independent restaurants in them? Ours only had chain stores and fast food. 

The chef is wiping the spatula on his apron, and the waitress has her ticket book in the food. I need to call the 1980s health department. 

Lightning strikes: the natural enemy of AI Killbots. 

Less than 10 minutes in the movie and the Killbots have gone rogue! This movie doesn’t play around. 

Monday? Is the mall closed on weekends? That seems unlike everything I’ve heard about them. 

For it to be lightning this much, there doesn’t seem to be any thunder and it doesn’t look like it’s raining. 

I’ve been married for seven years, and that lingerie trick would have worked on my spouse too. 

I’m assuming all these stores are actually parodies of real popular 1980s stores that I’m not familiar with. Or this is the only shopping mall in history where everything is run by locals. 

In 1986, my mama’s hair looked almost exactly like Susie’s but black from her shoulders down. I think she may have had that exact same outfit too. 

Did the Killbots clean up their murder?

Do these kids not know about the Killbots?

Does the Killbot not care about the “party?” I put it in quotations because I’m not sure it is a party. 

Wait, is the restaurant called Licorice Pizza? 

…She doesn’t allow him to go down on her? What man wrote this? 

Why is everybody so obsessed with drinking in the mall? 

Maybe don’t be aggressive with the taser bot that has sent a bolt into the puddle of water you’re standing in, Walter. 

Either Mike is really bad at sex or Leslie is really good at it. Or they’re both idiots who weren’t written to sound like real people. 

The music is so bad, but I kinda love it. It really matches the rest of the movie. 

How did the Killbot open those doors? 

I feel like the store owners would be really upset about the Killbots crashing through their front doors and shooting all their stuff. Probably more upset than they would be about the loss of life. 

Ever since Walter died, the only thing I can think of when I see the Killbots is “You are metal and triangular, like a R2, the strongest shape.” (Walter the Catt is “orange and triangular, like a 3D Dorito, the strongest shape.”)

Linda and Allison should punch Suzie in the face and then drag her along the vent. Or let her go alone. She’s going to get them all killed. 

Suzie, are you even trying? Why are you just lying there and screaming? Oh! Now that you’re on fire, you try to move! 

Allison is the only competent person in this whole movie. 

And they still give the gun back to Ferdy. 

Greg is not wrong. They should’ve kept Suzie in the air vent, even if they had to punch her in the face and drag her unconscious body. 

The reason y’all haven’t seen him is ‘cause he’s on the third level. If you go up there, he will zap you with laser bolts of head explosion. 

Y’all need to punch Greg in the face, the same way you should’ve punched Suzie. He’s going to get y’all killed. 

Nevermind. 

Are y’all forgetting the Killbots exploded the last door you barricaded? Also, you’ve seen them use the escalators; they’re going to go to the same one you are. 

Linda and Rick were smart. Until it was time to die. Then they became idiots. Bye, guys, I miss you having a brain cell. 

Now it’s Allison’s chance to be dumb. Why don’t they both have a gun? Or at least give one to the person who can shoot. 

Wait. The phones work. Mike answered one before he was killed by Killbot 1. So why didn’t they try to call for help? 

Why does this pet store only have spiders, snakes, and one barking dog? 

And one cat. Where did Kitty even come from? It looked like someone yeeted them from offscreen. 

Allison, what are you doing? When Ferdy died, did he take the brain cell with him? 

Killbot2 is going to roll out of the wreckage of the elevator any second now, I know it. Nevermind. Ferdy is the actually alive character. 

Actually pretty good, but I don’t think it lived up to the promise of the name.

[nineliabilityrisk]

❝ I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle! ❞ ( for mike, from quinn / @ladyseidr )

" i'm sure it's nothing you can't handle ! "

[[ oh this is gonna be Such a dynamic im already so excited for this. also i dont Care if timelines dont line up or whatever i just found the concept of them being Regular Fucking Coworkers at the fnaf 1 location too funny to pass up. ]]

-- [ asked by @ladyseidr ] --

"You know the fact that you even have to say that makes me less likely to believe you, right?"

Really, in all fairness, Michael had absolutely no right to be as thoroughly ticked off as he was at the moment. Quinn had done nothing wrong — he was just annoyed about the fact that someone else was trying to coach him in his job here, at his own father's company. Every little bit of assistance or instruction felt condescending. It wasn't, of course, Quinn was just trying to help, to get him situated properly during his first few shifts, but, God, he knew all of this already. Could probably take one of these bots apart and put them back together in his sleep at this point — at least, he'd like to think so. Okay, maybe he wasn't that familiar with the intricacies of his position, but, Hell, he'd quite literally grown up alongside these things. With how obsessed his father was with these creations of his, they'd seemed as much a part of their family as he and his siblings had, at times. There was no other explanation for it — why else would his father prioritize them so far above him if that wasn't the case?

Elbows propped up on his desk, he covered his face with his hands for a moment before sliding them down to support his chin. Letting out a shaky breath. Needed to control his temper — this minor irritation was both entirely inconsequential and entirely not Quinn's fault, not to mention unproductive. He needed to get himself under control. Snapping at his instructor wasn't going to help anyone.

He could probably blame his lack of patience on his current state of sleep deprivation — which, obviously, was more common than not, nowadays, unwilling as he was to put himself through his constant nightmares just for a few useless hours of rest — his mind felt raw, overworked ... it was no wonder he was having trouble keeping it together with the throbbing ache that had made itself at home behind his eyes.

"Look — they're just robots." Freaky robots, yes, robots that he'd never wanted to set foot near ever again after what had happened when he was younger, but they were just robots nonetheless. "I don't care about them– about what goes on out there. That's not part of my job — I'm just supposed to be here in my office. Keeping an eye on things. So why, exactly, do I need to know how they work? They're all the way out there. Where I don't have to worry about them." A pause, uneasy silence — eventually he had to turn to see the employee standing behind his chair. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, voice very much level and calm and not at all worried. Certainly not. "They are going to stay all the way out there, right?" The question would sound paranoid in just about any other situation, but, of course, this was the only one where his fears might actually be founded — unbeknownst to him, of course.

He was in way over his head, and yet he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It wasn't like he'd expected this job to be smooth sailing, what with his history with the company, but he'd known he was uniquely suited for the role. Applied, took the offer out of a sense of duty, of necessity — not because he wanted to be there or anything. No, he wanted to be as far away from this place as possible, but he was used to what he wanted being entirely disregarded at this point, so why would he even bother giving his own opinion any weight?

"Please tell me they're gonna be staying out there. The bots aren't the part you thought I could 'handle,' right? Please tell me you meant something else." Oh, Michael. You never should've taken the job.

[sodapop1033]

So… there’s two stars, I think I’m in a binary star system, evidently on the only planet that supports life around here, and this place I got dropped into is a heavily overgrown area of the planet, with the portal gate smack in the middle of an abandoned research base that’s been abandoned for quite some time by the looks of it. Come to think about it, this base is suspiciously human, nothing here looks like it belongs to the locals. As for what the locals are like… there’s s lot of variety in their species, there could even be multiple species coexisting as a civilization. Most of the ones I’ve seen are gray bipedal beings, with four arms, a tail and one eye each. The ones that found me did have bioweapons ready to fire electricity at me, but pretty quickly lowered them when I made it clear I wasn’t a threat. Now they’re helping me learn how to survive out here: they’ve taught me most of the edible plants and there’s a conveniently placed water source nearby, so if nothing tries to kill me I should be fine for now. There’s also small brown spiky guys that demand I play with them sometimes, I was a little put off by the spikes at first but now I actually think they’re pretty cute! They do have a means of teleportation, but it isn’t very reliable outside of this universe because they can’t really set targets: they can only go where the boundaries between universes are currently weakest. Which, of course, makes it nothing like the gate in front of me. Caught a few more glimpses of Doctor Door-Slammer’s hands between the last message and now too. Turns out the white shirt isn’t the only thing to it. Right hand’s got a blue blazer, left hand has a red one, so either there’s more than one Doctor Door-Slammer or it just wears a really funky blazer.

*intense static*

Aww, come on! The blazer comment was a positive thing! Anyways, Moonlight out!

*click*

(...shit)

[Look at me, it's ok. He's not going to hurt you again, ok? Keep looking at me. I promise to keep you safe, ok?]

(...)

[Everything will be ok. It sounds like he's trapped right now.]

(...for now)

[Can I tell Moonlight about him?]

(...yeah)

[Moonlight, stay away from Doctor Door-Slammer, ok? We know who he is and he's not something you want to be around. He's known as The Amalgamation. He has another name, but we're pretty sure it summons him somehow. From what we know, it's a split from Mike.]

(...not exactly...)

[Oh, right, it's really complicated. But that's not important right now. What is important is trying to get you out. From what you said, it sounds like you're in some sort of Border World. I'm not sure if it's Xen, but it sounds somewhat similar.]

(and the creatures sound similar to what Adrian delt with)

[I believe thoes are called Race X if I remember correctly. Here, let me look up known Border Worlds. I want to see if any of them match.]

*keyboard sounds*

[Hmmm, it's somewhere beyond Xen... Here! It looks like a name hasn't been given to this place yet.]

(Is there a location for it?)

[Yep! It looks like it's within the bots range too!]

(That's good. Moonlight, we'll see if we can send out Mark VI bot. It has both audio and photography. From there, we might be able to find a way out for you.)

[ponds-of-ink]

Short FNAF 3 AU One-Shot: “Trying to Negotiate”

Got inspired by this reply to one of my posts so much, that I had to write something.

And, to be clear, the name I am using for one of the characters is a code name. It’s not the actual name of said character.

Staticky rambles pierced one of Patty’s eardrums. If she wasn’t driving, then she would have fussed at this surfer man to calm down. Just because she was older than a lot of the staff in this horror attraction did not mean that he could yell so loudly. Not only was it hurting her hearing, but it was also clearly going to ensure him losing his voice for a week. A shame that this had to bother one of the most laidback people she’s ever met.

Thankfully, the sight of her car pulling into the parking lot seemed to calm him down. She waved at the disheveled man before pulling into one of the main empty spaces. Once settled in, she hung up her phone and exited the vehicle. “Nothing’s caught fire, which is a good start,” she noted as she walked up to him. “I guess the only concern now is this whole animatronic business.”

The man nodded rapidly, then pointed to the front of the building. “They’re in the first room to your right,” he explained with a tremor not befitting his casual tone. “I guess you’ll talk to that bot while I get something for Mike?”

“That sounds like a good start,” Patty agreed calmly. “I was a great negotiator, as far as my husband was concerned. I got us out of many... risky situations. I’m sure this is no different. Goodbye for now, Mr. ‘Dude’.”

Confident in her abilities, she strolled to the door and shoved it open. The mustiness of the air made her cough into her sleeve, but no one took advantage of the sound. In fact, whatever noise was there before she arrived plummeted into silence. When she opened her eyes, there was a dark, narrow hall with a wide-open door lighting her way. Her heart thumped. This was just like one of those newer horror movies from the 80s. Which meant, as she got closer to the “danger room”, her internal monologue shifted from rehearsing her ‘let the boy go’ speech to excitedly wondering about what terrifying monster could be lurking behind that opening. The obvious answer was a haunted animatronic, yes, but what kind was it? A custom-made one fit for this attraction? A retrofitted one covered in mold and grime from all the years of entertaining folks both young and old? Or, miracles of miracles, was it a suit she helped tailor for?

The sound of something scraping the linoleum tiles jolted her out of her speculation. Half-thankful for the reminder, she peered into the office. She let out a gasp straight away, alerting the attention of the man crouching on the desk. “Mrs. Thomas, what are you doing here!?” he cried out. “You could get hurt!”

“I appreciate your politeness, Mike, but you can just call me ‘Patty’,” Patty scoffed as she properly entered into the room. “Same goes for your ‘friend’, if he ever decides to join us. Now, how’s about I get you down before you hurt yourself?”

Reluctantly, Mike gave her his arm and gingerly jumps off the table. On instinct, Patty grabbed him tight and spun him back down to earth. Both looked at each other with wide eyes. “Sorry,” Patty apologized simply. “That was a move I learned in my younger years. A bit of choreography from the silver screen.”

Mike opened his mouth to ask something, then stops. He looked past her shoulder. The scraping started again, making his blood run cold. “How’s about we trade stories outside?” he asked her with a wide, shaky grin. “I talk about my night of peril while you regale me with your years of stardom. What could be better than that?”

Patty crossed her arms and turned away. “A chance to talk with this ‘monster’ you’ve been fighting, for one thing,” she huffed. “I drove all this way to see what everyone’s been afraid of, and I’m not going until I do.” She opened one eye, then looked back at Mike. “Not that you don’t matter, of course,” she added sheepishly. “I just mean that, now that I know you’re as safe as you can be—“

Three light taps on the desk alerted both Mike and Patty. Mike put a hand to his face and walked a few steps away while Patty gawked at the source of the noise. A towering, rabbit-like monster of mucky faux-fur and gnarled reddish bits sat in a buckling office chair. Its glowing white eyes met hers, then glanced back at the current state of the chair. Though doing its best to remain intimidating, the nervous posture it took after getting out of that seat was definitely noticeable. Thankfully, it did little to change the fact that this was a marred and “zombified” version of a rabbit she once knew. A very dangerous one when cornered, most likely.

Needless to say, Patty’s heart was thumping. “So, you’re the one who’s been messing with Mike?” she asked, brushing back a strand of loose hair as she stepped forward.

The rabbit tilted its head one way, then the other. Then, its good ear raised along with its eyelids. It nodded rapidly, as if her voice had now fully interested him.

“And you’ve also got a reputation of wrecking cameras and causing havoc, correct?”

The rabbit drew himself up proudly. That was him, all right.

Patty’s face flushed. “W-Well, as much as I’d like to congratulate you for being a very nice addition to the scare factor of this place,” she stammered out, using the other side of the desk for support, “I’m afraid I can’t let you keep toying with this poor boy.”

A roll of the eyes from the rabbit. Oh, please. What could she possibly say to convince him? He was Springtrap! The immortal fusion of man, “rabbit”, and machine! Sure, it hurt to move anything other than his eyes most of the time, but what did that matter? He was free to haunt this place whenever he could! He could even reach over and smack the back of her head to prove himself, if he wanted to! Why, he could—

“..Which is why I’m going to take his place, if the manager will let me.”

Why, he could practically let his soul fly out of this robotic body just to simulate the absolutely overwhelming sensation she just gave him.

Fortunately for him, Mike took the words right out of his mouth. “I’m sorry!?” he exclaimed, thrusting his hands from his head to the ground. “Did you seriously just volunteer to work my shift!?”

Patty shot a stern glare at Mike. “I said exactly what I meant,” she replied solemnly. “Let me put it this way: you get to recover from all the madcap things this rabbit’s done to you, I finally get to experience what it’s like to be in a proper horror movie, and Mr. Bonnie here will get to have a new playmate.”

“His name’s ‘Springtrap’, but that’s besides the point,” Mike grumbled, fighting the urge to ram his head into the nearby wall. “Patty, you have no idea who you’re up against. He can climb through vents that go straight to this office, he can outsmart any trick you try with that audio system, or he could even skip all that and try some new tactic I’m not even aware of!”

“Mr. Schmidt, are you warning me or convincing me even more?” Patty asked in a straightforward tone. “Because it honestly sounds like you’re doing the latter.”

Springtrap, meanwhile, had given up looking intimidating and settled for burying his head in his hands. She did not just imply that she wanted to be plagued by his stupid antics for six hours straight. All while sitting in a chair due to some dumb protocol and repairing the faulty systems, no less. There was no way a woman of her age (along with her gracefully-aged figure and beauty, which he definitely wasn’t afraid of tarnishing) could withstand that for a five nights, let alone full week. It would be downright disgraceful for everyone involved.

However, as his throat dared not let him articulate any of these thoughts, Springtrap just lowered his hands and firmly shook his head.

Patty sighed and lowered her head. “Is there any way I can prove to you that I’m capable?” she asked the rabbit dismally. “Because I’m not going to accept your terms until I know that I’m not cut out for this.”

Springtrap slumped. His ears drooped. Well, she did come this far. And she has stayed in this room for more than a few minutes now. His eyes scanned the room for anything that could be of good use. Out of habit, he scratched the back of his padded head. His eyelids raised. Wait a minute. Of.. course...?

Timidly, he waved his hand in front of Patty’s face. Then, when he had got her attention, he pointed to the side of his head.

“Do you want me to lift that mask up for you?” Patty asked, more curious than anything.

Springtrap nodded hesitantly. This was either going to end with her dying of fright or him actually running away in fear for once. He could feel it. However, as this was the only way to prove her courage, he tried to brush away his fear as he leaned towards her.

Patty returned his anxious movements with a gentle smile. “I’m sure what’s underneath is nothing as bad as some of the effects in that one The Immortal and The Restless special,” she joked as she lightly undid the clasps around the seam of his jaw. “Honestly, what were they—?”

Stunned silence cut her question off. Instead of a metal plate with glass eyes and uneven teeth that was typically under the robot heads, her eyes were met with a more appalling sight. A muddy reddish skull (or was it a death’s head?) with two pale eyes shared the same gaping expression of terror. The eyes darted from her to the surrounding area, as if trying to distract itself from the sheer vulnerability it just put itself in. The hollow yet frantic breathing confirmed this idea, causing Patty to flick the mask back into place. Wordlessly, she redid the clasps and retreated a step.

Springtrap also backed away from the desk. His mind reeled as he turned away from her. How... How was she not dead? Better yet, how was she not running out the door while screaming for dear life? Yes, she clearly had a thrill for anything horrific like vampires or the more traditional ghosts. But he was nothing like that. He was much, much worse.

And yet, there she was. Tiptoeing towards him as if she was the one who scared him and not the other way around. “I should probably leave you here to recover,” he could hear her say gently. “Sorry about being so intrusive, by the by. I had no idea–“

Springtrap put a finger to her lips, then tilted his head towards Mike. Never mind the apologies. It was all his fault anyway.

[hannieween]

the shadow | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 10.6k

› 🎧: truth be told – baekhyun | blame – i.m | slidin' – kai | ribbon – dpr ian | burn it – bibi ft. dean | show me – devita | shadow – ten | lovememore – dosii | fuxxin' love (2019) – OoOo | hold me down – hyejin

› proofread by the lovelies @gyuhao5 and @monamipencil ty 🩵

› this is part 3 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: violence: abduction (not jeonghan at reader or the way around), yandere undertones, toxic relationship, smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, comfort fuck, switch reader, switch jeonghan, jeonghan is down atrocious, dirty talk, cowgirl, worship. pet names: little demon, baby, (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

the shadow

THE GROUND VIBRATED BENEATH YOUR FEET. It was a Friday night, and the city was alive with desire and sin. The streets were busy with people going around, and the buzzing from their souls was distracting, making you hungry.

But, living in the human world as a demon meant that you had to keep your head down. It would be incredibly dumb on your part to start a carnage in the middle of the street. Besides, you were odd, since you liked living amongst them like you were part of their world too.

In that same vein, you had adopted some of their nature too, so you were running late for work. It was your third month working in a small local pub in the town you used to live. It was a simple enough job. You had found out that you had a natural talent for tending to drunken people, and they found themselves naturally attracted to you. So, suffice it to say, that you earned a good amount of tips every night.

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” you said, removing the scarf you wore on your neck and hanging it on the coat rack.

“You’re only wearing that?” your co-worker, Daisy stared at you as though you were an odd bug. “It’s cold as a witch’s teat outside.”

“Witches are cool. That is why I am team cold,” you sighed, grabbing your pen and a notepad. “How’s it been?”

“Slow,” Daisy replied with a dead tone. “A passerby asked for you,” she mentioned offhandedly as she looked at her reflection in a hand mirror, checking out her lipstick.

“Who?” you frowned. You had a few regulars that admittedly only came to see you, but Daisy would know them by name.

“Some random weirdo,” she shrugged. “Didn’t say your name, but he gave your description to the last hair on your head. Creepy.”

You grew more intrigued, turning to her to see the disinterest on her face. “What did you tell him?”

“To fuck off, naturally,” she replied with the same ease. “He refused to give me his name, so I refused to give him details about you.”

“Is he still here?” you asked, walking towards the door and sneaking a glance through the small round window to the pub.

“He’s sitting on one of the stools. If it gets to it, I already warned Mike about him,” she smirked triumphantly, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t mind having a little fun watching him throw that creep out. It would make my Friday night.”

In the bar, you saw a man, sitting on the far side of the row of stools. He kept his head down, so it was nearly impossible for you to discern the features of his face. But one thing you knew, it was the first time that you had seen him.

“Well, I suppose that my Friday night just got more interesting.”

Daisy sent you a knowing look, her shoulders going slack in a sign of defeat. “Don’t tell me you’re going to talk to that guy?” she asked with an incredulous tone. “I was a bitch to him, I gave him the middle finger already! All for nothing?”

“We’ll find out,” you smirked at her, pushing the door open and stepping out of the backroom of the pub and into the warm and cozy place, buzzing with the sounds of the people gathering, clinking their jars and laughing out loud.

Some people greeted you with nods and waves of their hands, some people called your name whenever you strolled around the pub, between the tables and chairs. Usually, you would make your way to the first table that waved you down, but this time, you walked straight behind the bar.

“Hi, Mikey,” you greeted with a sing-song tone. “How’s it going?”

“Like any Friday night,” the older man spoke, he was about a foot taller than you, his beard adorned with gray hairs. “A guy is looking for you, Daisy told me,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “First sign of trouble, tell me.”

“Thank you, Mikey,” you sighed, showing him a smile. Something within you stirred with something akin to satisfaction. To be surrounded by people who take care of you, in the best way humanely possible, made you feel special, and welcomed.

If only they knew. If they knew that you were very much capable of handling any trouble, even more capable than Mikey to kick out any drunkard without batting an eye. But they did not have to know, in fact, you were trying your best to keep your head down, and avoid drawing attention to yourself.

However, that happened naturally to you. People glanced your way without you even looking for it. So you made your way to the end of the bar, stopping in front of the person sitting on the last stool.

He wore a black leather jacket, his hair equally dark was long and arranged in a ponytail, some hairs hanging on the sides in a messy fringe. He toyed with the rim of his jar, half emptied already.

“You’ve been looking for me?” you placed your elbows neatly on the countertop, leaning slightly so you could sneak a better look to his face.

The man beat you to it, raising his head so he could direct a careful glance over you, sizing you up. Once he gathered with his eyes every detail of your physique, he nodded. “Yeah, that might be you who I’m looking for,” he said offhandedly, tilting his head to one side.

You coughed, getting an uncomfortable feeling as he eyed you up and down. “What can I help you with?”

He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You could not make out what he was about, and that was when you started to get a flight or fight feeling. Like a prey who is being sighted by its killer, far between the lines of discretion.

“I want you to tell me,” he began, keeping his voice low and his brown eyes on your face. “Why does a demon live between humans? Isn’t that surpassing the line of playing with your food?”

You froze in an instant, fear of being caught sizzling underneath your skin. “Who are you?” you asked.

“I should be asking that to you,” he frowned. “Listen, I see that you care about the humans that are around you right now, so, I’d suggest that we take this conversation elsewhere, away from any potential casualties.”

“What if I don’t care about the humans around me?” you countered, making him pause and consider your words. “Like you said, what if I like playing with my food?”

He narrowed his brown eyes, his lips forming a syllable, but then they broke into a grin. “You’re lying.”

You looked at him in pure perplexion. You had heard about demon hunters before in your short life as a demon. But you never had the opportunity to come across one, so you never really cared.

“Are you a hunter?” you asked, silently reprimanding yourself for showing that you were actually shaken by his presence.

He was dark. Alluring, even. If you dared to glimpse past his mask, you saw a smoking light dancing inside him, it was his soul.

“I am,” he nodded politely, as though he had a rule to keep diplomacy before he hunted you down.

“Suppose I don’t get a name?” you smirked, trying to keep your nerves in line.

“Only if I get yours first.”

That was smart. The hunter knew that there was a power in knowing your name. Demons were creatures of subservience. They were ruled by sin, by corruption. But as such, they had to be kept in check somehow. And when you knew a demon’s domain, you could practically rule them. If you were strong enough.

You stuck out your hand to him, smiling before uttering your name. “At your service.”

The hunter raised his brown eyes, you saw the confusion in them. Your brazenness was not something out of the ordinary for demons who were in the human world like you, but the nerve to give out your name like that did its work to shake him. But he took your hand, all the same, slightly parting his mouth. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Both of you stilled, your hand instinctively tightening around his as a foreign, but also so familiar feeling crept inside you, gripping you wholly. You sucked in a breath, your eyes glazing over. Oh, no, your mind echoed. Is this…

A bond. And not just any bond.

Yoon Jeonghan frowned, his mouth agape, his eyes teary as he shared that feeling with you. And you waited to see if he knew the reason behind the preternatural sensation coiling around his heart. But he remained motionless, did not even protest when you slipped your hand out of his grip. The turbulent fire inside him calmed down when his dark eyes met yours.

The hunter cleared his throat, blinking dumbly as he jumped down the stool, exiting the place without saying a word.

And that is how you meet Yoon Jeonghan. Your soulmate.

A year went by like water slipping through your fingers. Seasons changed and you welcomed each one of them like any regular human would, except that instead of wearing a costume on Halloween like everyone else, you would just display your horns on your head. Instead of celebrating Christmas, you would go out on a hunt for sins, which oddly enough was a day with many to choose from.

But one thing that was a constant in your life for the whole year round, was the push and pull with Yoon Jeonghan.

Many nights had passed since your last encounter with him, the night you confessed to having been starving yourself of human sins in the fruitless attempt to become human yourself. Nights had turned into weeks, then months, three to be exact. Now you were running from him, only stopping to feed from him.

You were out one night, enjoying the buzzing from the streets of the city. The excitement you felt around you from human souls was nearly making your mouth water. That was until you felt someone tracking you, a distant shadow that kept you out of your line of sight.

He had been lurking for too long, following you from town to town, through the shadows that the tall buildings of the city cast. Following you like a monster on a leash.

You smirked secretly, looking over your shoulder to see his silhouette wrapped in shadows. Jeonghan had found you again, just like he always would. As long as you and him lived, you would always cross each other’s paths.

It had become a game for you. And now it was time to run.

Being a demon was freeing in so many ways. Now that you were at your full strength, you were also freed from all kinds of inhibitions. You did not need a house or shelter, you did not possess belongings or extra clothes.

So you just sprung into a run, quickly devising a plan to escape from this city, and hit the next town until Jeonghan found you again. The city passed you in a blur, and soon your surroundings turned into walls made of thick trees.

You were not sure if Jeonghan knew you were playing a game. At this point, he was just as enslaved to it as you were, running away, only to be found by him. An endless push and pull.

But this felt different to all the times he loomed on your back. No, this was a first. Jeonghan kept himself far away from you out of shame, yes. However, this time it was not a shame for liking you, nor not being able to resist you.

Jeonghan was sorry.

And he would watch you tear through a different town until he mustered all the strength he needed to come to you, announcing himself between the shadows, tail between his legs. You were completely familiar with that. But now you just decided to make him suffer a little.

Other times, you did not resist him; you would take him wherever you could, an empty alleyway. The last time you did this, you took him in the backseat of his car, fucking him until he was a complete mess. You would wait until he fell asleep to exit his car quietly and leave him to wake up completely alone.

Yoon Jeonghan was no fool. He knew you were playing hard to get. He knew that what you were doing was payback for all the times he tried to resist you. All the times he tried to pretend that what he felt for you was some sort of divine retribution.

But in truth, he could not keep allowing himself to be with you. You showed up in his life like a comet falling out of the sky, crashing and burning everything around him, leaving him blind to all reason, too stupid to do anything. So stupid that he lost whatever made sense in his life, and he lost you as well.

Even if he did not actually have you.

Jeonghan sat alone in a booth pushed up to the corner of the diner, where he was slowly chewing the last bits of his breakfast, looking out the window pensively.

The pull he had towards you grew stronger, sometimes thinner, but it was always there. Now that he knew that what he felt was a result of something bigger than him, and than you, he had resorted to analyzing it.

After finishing up his plate, he raised his hand to flag the waitress down, asking for another cup of coffee.

You slid to the seat in front of him with a short sigh, fixing your hair with your hands as if you had just finished jogging, which, Jeonghan thought, could have been the case.

The waitress refilled the cup of coffee, and Jeonghan kindly thanked the lady, pushing the cup to you to then hand you the sugar.

“Did you know I was close?” you asked, bewildered at noticing how quickly Jeonghan had learned to discern your proximity by using the bond.

Jeonghan was tempted to say that he also knew how you liked your coffee. Two sugars, no milk. But that had nothing to do with the bond. So, he just nodded with his head.

“Well, that’s no fun,” you muttered, pouring the sugar on the teaspoon, one, two and sending him a look, you poured a little more sugar.

Jeonghan smiled quietly, it was not a happy smile. “I supposed you would grow bored if I stopped following you across the country. I was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m here because I’m hungry,” you said flatly, raising your hand to flag the waitress down.

He also knew that. And not only that, but he also knew that you did not need waffles and bacon, your favorite. You needed something that would never be found on a diner’s menu. Or any restaurant’s menu for that matter.

“Can I have waffles with syrup, please?” you asked with a sweet tone, beaming at the lady. “Oh, and can I have bacon with that?”

Jeonghan looked at the way you smiled at the waitress, his stomach tightening a little in both nervousness and something more, it was a foreign feeling.

He noticed how the woman tensed up at your presence. Humans had a natural fight-or-flight response to demons, but with you, they just assumed it was because of your natural beauty. Or your assertiveness.

“And you suppose I can help ease your hunger?” Jeonghan asked, keeping an eye on the surroundings for any signs of danger, in case you and him needed to run.

“Yeah,” you responded in an obvious tone, taking a small sip from your cup of coffee.

Jeonghan noticed the way you carefully pressed your lips on the rim, as though you could burn yourself.

“I mean, how else am I going to pay for this?” you smirked, placing your chin on your hands, expecting him to laugh, or to say something quippy at you.

“Fine,” Jeonghan said, releasing a puffy sigh in annoyance.

He wondered if this would lead to a serious conversation about what happened the last time you talked. But chances were, you were just having more fun torturing him.

He deserved it.

Something deep inside him pulsated, kicking the air out of his lungs. The feeling rippled, it went on as he blinked and found you, looking equally astounded. But you recuperated faster than him, you usually did.

“How did you know?” Jeonghan heard himself blurt, his tone rough as though he had been screaming for hours. “About the bond?”

You cleared your throat, composing yourself on the seat by resuming to stir your coffee. “I’ve lived in the underworld, Jeonghan, I know how a bond behaves and feels like,” you said, eyeing the woman closing up to leave your breakfast on the table. “Thank you, ma’am,” you smiled politely.

“I thought bonds were only made after making a deal with a demon,” Jeonghan mumbled, keeping his tone in a volume only you would be able to hear. “You and I have never struck a deal.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Einstein,” you quipped, taking a generous piece of waffles bathed in syrup to your mouth. You moaned blissfully, the sound was not sexual, but it had several eyes drawn to you.

Jeonghan knew why, your voice was sweet, appealing to the human senses. It also had an effect on him, but that was because of an entirely different reason. He cleared his throat too.

“Bonds made with deals or promises are quite common. No, this is different,” you said after gulping down the waffles with coffee. “You and I were made with this bond. It’s always existed for us.”

He looked at you confusedly as you tore through your breakfast. “What do you mean we were made with the bond?”

You dragged the last bit of waffles through the pool of syrup on your plate. “We were born with it.”

“You were born…” he trailed off.

“I was made, Jeonghan,” you pointed your fork at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I knew that,” he said, blinking slowly. “But following your logic, you had to be born at the same time as me.”

“Time is different in the underworld,” you reminded him, chewing slowly to enjoy the last bit off your plate. “I’m actually a little bit older than you.”

Jeonghan had assumed that as well. Though he knew you were a fairly younger demon from the ones he has faced, you had to be older than him, guessing by your physical strength alone. “So you’ve known all this time.”

You nodded, pushing your empty plate aside. “Ever since we spoke to each other,” you crossed your arms on the table, directing a serious look at him. “I’ve always known, Jeonghan.”

“You could’ve told me just to toss it at my face,” he pointed, there was no venom in his words, he was as confused as he was the night you left him. “All this time, I thought that this was some sort of retribution, a divine cause and effect I had to endure for wanting to be around you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

At that, you lowered your eyes in guilt. “I never thought it would make a difference. I never thought you would believe me, so I never said anything.”

Jeonghan felt a kind of pain he had never felt before he met you. It coiled around his heart, it was remorse because he knew what you did not want to say, what he could not bring himself to do.

Because even after you told him, he did nothing. It did not make a difference. He still refused you, he refused to give in.

“Can I help you with something else?” the waitress approached, addressing him intently.

You kept your head down, so Jeonghan never saw the glimmer in your eyes from the tears that were beginning to form.

“The bill, please,” he said, but he was quickly distracted.

You were sliding on the seat, walking away from the table, and then pushing the door open, exiting the diner.

“Shit,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath, reaching for his wallet, and pulling out a bill, quickly leaving the place to follow you, knowing that by the time he reached outside, you would be gone.

You were nowhere to be seen, Jeonghan scouted with his gaze his surroundings, were you mocking him again?

When he turned around, he let out a short breath in relief. You were sitting on the passenger seat of his car, aloofly checking the roots of your hair, pretending to ignore him while hiding a smile.

Jeonghan sent his gaze skyward, trying to find some patience in the grim-looking sky. It would rain soon, and you did not have somewhere to crash now that you were effectively on the run and alone.

He decided to go along with whatever crazed plan you were crafting, he felt he was in no position to do otherwise, but to follow. Even if you were just toying with him in revenge.

You followed him with your eyes as he went around the car, yanking the door open and sliding to the seat silently. “Where are we heading to?” you asked, primly tucking your hands between your thighs.

“We’re skipping town,” he said, turning the key on the engine.

“Already?” you turned slightly to get your seatbelt on. “I thought you would like this town.”

“Why is that?” he kept his town flat, trying to keep the discontent at bay.

“It’s lonely,” you said sweetly. “For lonely people such as you.”

“We need the opposite of lonely right now,” he replied, trying to ignore to the best of his ability to omit the fact that the last town he lived in was solely because he could keep an eye on you that way.

“Mn,” you hummed pensively. “You’re no fun when you’re angry and quiet,” you pointed with a knowing tone, turning to look out the window.

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow, trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, he leaned his head to his hand, an elbow propped on the windowsill.

You read his silence, your lip curling a little in a smile. “You know that I can also read you, right?”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he muttered tiredly, avoiding to look your way.

You clicked your tongue but decided to keep quiet. Jeonghan was frustrated, that much you knew, telling from the rigidness of his movements, the way his hand tightened around the steering wheel. Two fingers rubbed his bottom lip harshly, he kept that motion for so long that you thought that it had to burn him at some point.

But aside from that, you could see the enraged flame inside him, dancing erratically from the moment you showed up at the diner. You knew that your tantrum had run its course, and he was now trying not to tell you how miserable you had made him these past few weeks.

And he knew that you were only turning to him so you could feed. That had been obvious from the moment he saw you. Your skin was colorless and dry, the bags under your eyes were prominent, and not only that, Jeonghan probably assumed that you no longer wanted to consume human souls, only his sins.

Soon, you entered a new city that welcomed you with a big sign, Welcome to Veridian Bay! leading to a bridge crossing over the waterfront and into the big city with big, tall buildings.

You leaned to the window to take a look at how tall the buildings stood, the streets were busy with people, and everything was alive with buzzing sounds. Jeonghan kept driving deep into the city, until you reached a quieter part, away from the tall buildings, the shiny stores and flashy signs.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, looking curiously at the big shopping mall he just parked his car in front of.

“We need to buy clothes,” he directed a judging look at you.

“What’s wrong with mine?” you asked to no end. Your clothes were torn and filthy, another reason why people threw you second looks at every place you walked into, demon allure or not.

Jeonghan exited the car, and you followed him closely, as though you were trying not to lose him in between the people.

“I have a question,” you said, sticking to his side to shield yourself from the weird looks you were receiving. You did not care about it, but you wanted to keep a low profile as much as you could. “What happened to the two hunters?”

“They stopped chasing you,” he replied in a quiet tone, leading you to a department store.

Everything was bright with colors, and shiny lights hanging from the ceiling. Rows of clothing racks are laid in front of you in an elaborate maze. You had been to malls before, but never to one as big as this. And definitely never with Jeonghan.

“Do you think I’m free from them, then?” you yanked your gaze from a row of pretty blouses, your fingers itching to touch the fabric.

“Not by a long shot, no,” he answered, tensing beside you when your arm brushed his. “Choose something quickly, the shorter we stay here, the better.”

You grabbed a plain white t-shirt, measuring it over your torso and facing the mirror where Jeonghan stood, watching you intently. “Do you think this one goes with my body type?” you asked fruitlessly.

He just huffed, rolling his eyes swiftly. “Stop playing,” he said, looking around precatively. “We need to find somewhere safe to stay, and you need to feed soon.”

The way he gritted out the words allowed for the quiet rage simmering inside him slip through. A light shock appeared on his face, much as if he heard his own words and quickly forced himself to composure.

Jeonghan was mad, and you were the reason why the flame inside him was growing into a merciless fire burning inside him.

“Alright,” you hummed, picking a pair of jeans, a long t-shirt and undergarments.

Jeonghan followed you as you made your way to the queue line to pay. His mind was once again buzzing with questions, if anything, the conversation back in the diner left him even more confused.

He had thought all this time that what he felt for you was some kind of joke. The insane lust, the deep craving, the endless nights he spent thinking about you, dreaming about you… all because of a supernatural bond he never had control of.

You made a tiny cooing sound, making him snap his gaze to where you stood in line. You were lifting a finger to match with a baby’s pointer finger. The baby girl was looking over the shoulder of her mother who queued up in front of you. Somehow, you had attracted the focus of the baby, and you were now caught up in her big eyes, in her dimpled hands.

Jeonghan’s stomach twisted violently. You smiled at the baby as she wrapped her tiny hand around your finger, laughing with you. The feeling tightening inside him was completely alien to him, he wanted to get rid of it as you would an illness.

He never understood why it was impossible for him to fight against you. He used to think that your innate allure created that attraction he felt for you, he used to think that you were playing games on him.

But that did not explain one thing. As he watched your joyous smile, he realized that what he felt was not entirely carnal. He recalled what he felt that night he knew you were slipping away, the fear of losing you.

The tight feeling coiled inside his chest when you lifted your eyes at him, keeping that joy with you from being paid attention to by an innocent baby. The interaction had been so pure and out of the ordinary for you that it brought a spark to your dark eyes.

The knot inside him broke free, blooming inside him freely, filling his chest with a warmth that was nearly intoxicating.

“Are you okay, hunter?” you asked quietly, noticing the change in his eyes, the quiet rage dying down at the same time the look of bewilderment on his face set in.

“Yeah,” he forced out, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered awkwardly, still shocked at how suddenly his erratic mood disappeared. What added to the shock was that Jeonghan did not lie to you, he was indeed fine, however, the shock on his face was confusing to you. 

“One bed, again?” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan closed the door to the small motel room. This one had a leather couch that looked decent compared to the thin white curtains that allowed for the light coming from the street outside to seep through.

“What’s the point in asking for two beds?” Jeonghan shrugged, taking off his black leather jacket as he let out a cough.

“I’d appreciate it if you actually made some effort in swaying me,” you mentioned off-handedly as you started zipping down your hoodie. “I’m still a lady, you know?”

At that, Jeonghan chuckled. “You are as much as a lady as I am a gentleman, so,” he shrugged. “There’s the couch, if you care that much.”

“You’re right,” you snapped your fingers at him. “You can sleep on the couch, I’ll sleep on the bed!”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, raising his arms to grab his tight black shirt and pull it over his head.

You stopped, dead in your tracks. Jeonghan had a very deceiving build, most would think he was lean and due to his affection for dark clothes, he masked himself well to curious eyes. But in fact, Jeonghan had a toned body, a low bulk that had been built up due to the nature of his work.

His milky white skin was adorned with scars, bruises and bitemarks from creatures he hunted down. As he removed the sleeves from his arms, he sent you a look. “What?” he blurted.

You were too caught up to come up with a lie, but something deep inside you recoiled in nervousness. “I was just looking at you,” you mumbled meekly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “You’re gawking.”

You shrugged. “Can’t blame me. You’d be gawking too if I suddenly decided to strip naked.”

“Tsk,” he smiled playfully, throwing the t-shirt on the couch. “It would be fair game, at least.”

“Shut up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at him. But still, you stared at his fingers undoing the belt of his black denim jeans, pulling it from the hoops.

“Alright, then,” he said, giving his belt the same treatment, discarding it on the couch. He placed his hands on his hips, his torso forming a perfect inverted triangle. “Are you going to keep playing dumb with me?”

You arched one eyebrow at him, too surprised at his bluntness to even speak. Gaping, you stood there for a second, trying to decide on deflection or acceptance.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you turned your back on him, mustering all the will in you to not glance his way. You started rummaging in the bag of clothes, pulling out an I love kitties shirt that you got as a nightgown. It had a doodle of an orange cat on it.

“Please,” he huffed, and you bit your bottom lip. “You can’t lie to me so don’t try to treat me like I’m stupid.”

“Take a hint, hunter. I don’t want to talk about this,” you said but failed to coat your words with enough venom.

A hand circled around your wrist, pulling you to his body, commanding you to face him. With a gasp, you yanked back, looking at him furiously. But his gaze smothered that fire inside you at once. “You left,” he said, the trouble in his mind mirrored in his dark gaze. “You left me.”

“Yeah, I left because you could not even talk to me, Jeonghan,” you replied, trying to step back from him, the back of your knees finding the bed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “I’ve spent three months chasing you across the fucking country,” he said. “You only stop running when you need to feed from me. I’ve paid enough, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” you gritted, betraying yourself. Your eyes started brimming with tears, angry tears, sorrowful tears. They carried all the misery that you had lived as his soulmate.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded, his tone rising in exasperation.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shying away. You lowered your face, bringing a hand to wipe the wetness on your cheeks.

“That’s not true.”

As you raised your head, you involuntarily sniffled. “Well, you know what I want, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan gaped at you for a moment, choking on his argument. He knew then that nothing would give peace to this fight because there was no solution to this.

You wanted to become human. In your mind, it was the only way you could stop feeding from his lust, his greed. It was the only way to make you stop feeding from human souls. And by that, you would not be hunted down for being a demon. Jeonghan would not have to feel remorseful every time he looked at you.

But it was something uncertain. You did not know whether the path to becoming human would even work, or if you would survive it.

“Is there a way to end this?” Jeonghan asked, his heart stammering painfully in his chest.

“End what?” you asked slowly.

He blinked for a long second, gathering his strength. “Is there a way to break the bond?”

The question robbed you of air, and Jeonghan could see it in your gentle exhale. Your eyes glinting with sorrow, wide and looking at his face as though you had trouble assimilating his words.

“You-you want to break the bond?” you asked, stuttering under an overwhelming pain.

“Is it possible?” he pressed, breathing hard, trying to shake off the numbing pain in his heart.

“N-no, I don’t know,” you sucked in a breath, which he understood to be a sob. “D-do you want to break it, Jeonghan?”

“If it means we’re free from each other then yes,” he whispered, hating the look in your eyes with a passion that he could not stand. He was causing that pain and in turn, he felt it too.

But maybe what you felt for each other was not real. Maybe once the bond is broken, you would realize that what you felt for him was all a farce, he thought.

You rubbed the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eye. “M-maybe,” you mumbled. “But I don’t think so. One of us would have to die, I think,” you spoke with uncertainty because you were sure that the bond would not be broken, not even then.

“You don’t know if your way of becoming human will work,” he mumbled, trying to reason with you. But the truth was, he felt guilty for making you cry.

And you could feel the guilt, it swarmed around him like an angry cloud.

“I know one thing,” you raised your eyes, heedlessly showing him how affected you were by this. “I wouldn’t have to feel how fucking miserable you are when you’re with me,” you spat.

Jeonghan went still, as though petrified. The only thing that moved in him was his gaze, heavy with a dangerous darkness, it coasted over the features of your face. “Is that what you think I am? Miserable?”

“No, Jeonghan, I know it,” you replied with a shaky tone. “I can feel it in you. When you look at me when you touch me.”

He yanked his gaze from you, running a hand on his face while blinking his anger away rapidly. “You don’t know shit,” he hissed at you, motioning to turn his back on you but quickly decided against it.

“Oh, yeah?” you taunted.

“Yeah, you don’t know shit,” he doubled down, his voice raw. “You think that because you can sense what I feel it means that it’s all because of you,” he spat, taking a step closer to you but you raised a hand, trying to stop him, but he insisted, grabbing your hands to stop you instead.

“Then what is it?” you pressed.

“Ever since I met you nothing has made sense in my life,” he hissed, leaning over you. “I hate myself,” he shuddered, swallowing hard. “I hate myself because even if you were human, I wouldn’t have anything to offer you. I can’t even say that I’m sorry because it’s the truth. I can’t give you what you want.”

You looked at him in plain shock. It was such a shame that the only person in the world who saw you for who you were still rejected you. The pain from that realization shook you hard, so hard in fact that you physically recoiled from him, closing your eyes to let your tears go.

Jeonghan watched your tears roll down your cheeks, the silence in the room broken by the occasional intake of breath coming from you. But he stood there, silently cursing life and its way of making fun of him. He was raised to not want anything in life. Not shelter, nor warmth. His sad world, cold as ice and hard as stone. He would have followed this path blindly until the day of his untimely death.

But the truth was, he did want one thing in life. He wanted you. And it was killing him not to admit that.

“I…” you croaked, opening your eyes after a long second. A gaping hole in your heart tried to suck you in. “I thank you for the clothes, Jeonghan,” you said dejectedly, turning away from him and walking towards the door.

Jeonghan stared at the wall in front of him, your arm brushing his as you passed him by. His mind reeled wildly, considering what he went through the last time you walked away from him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he blurted.

“That is none of your concern.”

“Like hell it is,” he said, grabbing your arm before you could reach for the doorknob. You sent him another one of those looks, a dangerous animal realizing it had been caught. “You’re not safe out there.”

“Like you give a shit,” you said, pushing him away with one hand on his chest.

But he grabbed that hand, pulling you to his frame with a sharp tug. “Yeah, what do you even know about me?” he challenged, his words cold. “I wouldn’t be protecting you, chasing you if I didn’t give a shit about you.”

“I would prefer that you didn’t,” you bit back.

“That’s not true,” he said, but his tone rose in desperation. He released your arm, fear crossing his features when he realized that if you walked, he would have to let you go.

“You have a very weird way to show that you care, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, understanding where that fear came from. Because all this time, you accepted the turbulence in his thoughts, in his soul. If you decided to go, he would let you.

The heavy darkness in his gaze dissolved as the features of his face relaxed. The gentle resignation swept over him, reminding you how hard it was for him to even comprehend what the bond was.

Jeonghan had two ways to show his emotions, either through carnal desire or brute force. One of them was the one that was unleashed in the vicious cycle he had with you.

But you welcomed it all the same. He took one step towards you, reaching for you as though fearful you might step away. His hand found the side of your head, the other sliding on your waist, gripping you gently before his lips met yours.

The kiss was slow, tentative at first, showing you an apologetic need to you. But you were still to fueled up from the argument, finding his bare chest with your hands to push him off you.

Jeonghan looked sad for a second, but he quickly understood that you were angry, and looking to make him pay. You pushed him again, more forcefully, but he was stronger than you, stepping towards you like a magnet that refused to keep away from you.

His hands returned to their previous positions, as you found his shoulder with one hand, his nape with the other, welcoming him with a vehement kiss. He groaned under your touch, revelling at the fact that you were kissing him even though you were being harsh with it.

Jeonghan broke the kiss abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, the turbulence inside him dying down, like smothering a fire.

“You should be sorry,” you mumbled on his lips, diving for another hungry kiss before pushing him by the shoulders, and shoving him onto the couch behind him. He sat down, gasping in surprise at the brute force you used on him. A wolfish grin appeared on his lips when you walked over to him, sitting down on his lap, straddling him.

His hands welcomed you, grabbing you by the waist to give you a squeeze. He thought of all the nights he has had the opportunity to be like this with you, and the nights he wished he had never let you go. “I don’t want to break it,” he confessed, tilting his head back to meet your eyes. “The bond. I don’t want to break it,” he repeated.

“Then why did you say…?”

“What if what we feel for each other isn’t real?” he blurted the tight feeling inside him protesting in pain when he spoke those words.

You smiled at him sweetly, making him feel worse. “What do you feel for me, Jeonghan?” you baited.

He swallowed hard, instead of communicating with words, he carefully brought a hand to cup your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin in the process. He pulled your face closer to his, eyeing your lips and then your eyes before giving you a sweet kiss. You reciprocated the kiss, outlining his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, slowly meeting his.

“Do you think all people with bonds feel this for each other, Jeonghan?” you mused. When he was unable to speak out an answer, you continued. “I think the bond only helped us find each other. The rest just happened on its own.”

Jeonghan listened to your words intently, his gaze coasting the features of your face. You’re your eyes, to your mouth and back again. His fingers grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it up your torso.

You raised your hands, helping him take your t-shirt off. He sighed, his hands returning to hold you, caressing your naked back freely, his breath fanning on the plain of your breasts when he leaned over to plant a kiss on your skin.

You raked his hair with your fingers, getting rid of the hair tie holding his ponytail, making him groan as your fingernails caressed his scalp. His lips reached the swell of one of your breasts, planting wet kisses, enjoying the way you always responded to his touch; your skin prickling in the wake of his lips.

He encircled his arms around your waist, using his strength to trade the positions of your body, placing your body on the sofa, him crawling on top of you. Then he kissed you, he kissed you with such force that you thought you might break. It was electrifying to have his lips on yours, him moaning your name in between kisses.

Your hands explored his chest, fingertips lingering on his scars, his nipples, his bellybutton. You undid the button of his jeans, tucking your hands between his underwear and his ass, feeling his skin freely as you pushed his jeans and boxers down.

Once he was completely bare, and on top of you, he took his turn taking your shorts and underwear off. He did so without wasting time, effectively leaving you bare on the couch, and under his body.

He leaned over you, placing a hand beside your shoulder to prop his weight on it, lowering the lower half of his body on you. His skin was warm, you could feel everything, the beating of his heart, the soft pubic hairs brushing your skin. He was hard already, his cock pressing on your lower tummy.

There was a pause, as soon as your naked bodies came into contact with each other, something came alight inside you. You knew Jeonghan felt it too, because his reaction was the same as yours. Like sparks firing wildly inside your chest, lingering on your skin, robbing you of air.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, trying to hold onto the feeling fluttering in your chest.

“I know,” he breathed, leaning so he could give soft pecks to your lips. “I know, baby.”

You sighed a moan, it sounding pathetic as you let him adore your skin. He continued kissing you, your lips, your earlobe, your throat. He hummed softly when he breathed in the scent of your skin when he tasted you on his tongue as he licked your breasts.

You sucked in a breath, caressing his hair as he took one of your nipples in his mouth. “Fuck,” you whispered.  

But he was in a hurry, trailing down your torso with soft, open-mouthed kisses. You moaned, trembling under him as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. Jeonghan knew you better than anyone else on earth, sometimes, you thought he knew your body better than yourself.

“Shit,” you hissed, clenching your jaw as he kissed your mound, pressing his tongue on you’re your skin with a raspy moan on his part. You parted your legs for him, allowing him to lick a broad stripe between your pussy lips, blissfully drinking you in.

The room was flooded with a series of sweet, airy moans from your part. You called out his name multiple times as he ate you out, licking your pussy with soft smacking sounds and low hums. All you could focus on was his tongue on you, gliding on your folds, teasing your clit with flitting motions.

His hands cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs swirling around your nipples, pinching softly to bring out more sweet noises from your mouth. You writhed uncontrollably on the sofa, keeping your hands on the back of his head to try and anchor yourself to enjoy his mouth pleasuring your pussy.

But as you drew nearer to your release, you could not just hold out any longer, pressing your hands on the back of his head and pushing your hips to grind your pussy on his tongue. Your mouth parted. “Jeonghan,” you whined, feeling his mouth relax, letting you ride him.

Moving your hips faster on his mouth, you felt his hands squeezing your tits gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes as your sweet, sweet release washed over you, sizzling beneath your skin.

Your muscles went lax on the sofa, moaning out his name repeatedly as you felt like dissolving in the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you decided against it in a second, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders and urging him to sit back on the sofa.

“What–,”

“Let me ride you,” you mumbled, cutting in before he could protest.

Jeonghan nodded obediently, and you took one whole second to comprehend that he was just letting you do whatever you wanted to him. No complaints, no snarky comments.  

You straddled him, grabbing his cock with one hand and jerking him off a few times just to see the muscles of his face go soft. You smiled, shifting on top of him so you could guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, sinking in him slowly. “Gods,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you said softly, holding his chin with one hand. You lifted your hips slightly, letting them roll on him as you sat back down, eliciting a short groan from him. “That’s it, baby. Feel me. Do you like that?”

Jeonghan blinked slowly, pushing his tongue on his bottom lip before nodding.

“Words, Jeonghan, use them.”

He obediently kept his gaze on you, like you were the moon, and he was looking at you for the first time in ages. “I love it,” he replied with a strangled tone. “I love your pussy. I love how it feels around me.”

Jeonghan dropped his head back on the headrest of the couch, swallowing his moans, his fingers clenching around your hips. “I love your taste too,” he choked out, much as if he needed to say it but barely found the strength to do so, enraptured by pleasure.

One of the corners of your lips curled slowly as you rolled your hips on him, inch by inch, tortuously slow. “Oh, yeah?” you breathed, closing your eyes briefly to savour the feeling of his worshipping washing over you, making your blood dance under your skin.

“Yes,” he hissed out the word and now you knew he was trying to resist himself. “I miss your smell when you’re not near me. Drives me crazy.”

You giggled quietly, knowing that he was letting go of his deepest thoughts.

His fingers dug into your skin hard enough to leave marks. You opened your eyes, seeing the strain in his voice reflecting on his face, his teary eyes coasting all over your body. “Le-let me come, please. I needed you so much, baby. I don’t think I’ll last any longer.”

You held onto his lean shoulders to lift your hips off him, his wet cock slipping out of your walls and leaning to one side on his lower abdomen, the tip was reddened, a vein tracing on his wet shaft.

Jeonghan groaned, closing his eyes tightly to let out a shaky sigh. “Please,” he sighed. “I want to come inside you,” he said but did not make a move to slip his cock back into your cunt.

“Say you’re sorry,” you murmured.

And there it was, the hole in your chest opening once again, sucking you back in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not wasting a second, he said again, “I’m sorry, I let you go.”

You showed him an empty smile, which you pressed onto his lips, grabbing his chin again. “Don’t let me go again,” you pleaded but masked your words to sound sweet, not letting it show that his apology, though forced out of the need for release, was making you feel pain.

Jeonghan returned the light smile, though he was genuine with it. “Never,” he whispered, wrapping an arm on your lower back to keep you in balance as you sank down on his cock again, making him shudder in pleasure. “I promise.”

“Jeonghan–,” you gasped, pausing the sway of your hips on him to look at him perplexedly. “Don’t make promises, you’ll–,”

“I promise I won’t walk away from you,” he said, his dark eyes coasting all over the features of your face.

You closed your eyes, shuddering hard at the tingling rush of blood swimming in your veins; the bond tightening due to the force of the promise setting. “Jeonghan, don’t,” you whispered in plea.

Stopping the movement of your hips completely, you hugged his shoulders, trailing the hair of his nape with your fingers. You breathed raggedly, just as he was by the weight of a new promise binding you both.

“I want this,” he whispered shakily. “Let me.”

“You don’t know what this means for you,” you warned, a violent shudder shaking your body on top of him.

He hugged you tightly to his body as if shielding you from the world. “I do, and I want it,” he reassured.

“Jeonghan…”

But he just went on, “Like you said, we’re meant to be, we’ve always have been,” he said with a low raspy tone, blinking in an enamoured way at you. “And I am sorry it took me so long to accept it. I’m sorry.”

A sob coiled in your throat, fingers curling around the long strands of his dark hair. “I forgive you,” you whispered, daring to give him a shy kiss.

Jeonghan trembled underneath you, reciprocating your kiss with so much delicacy that it could break your heart. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

You stilled completely, your breath coiling in your throat. “Me too,” you finally confessed.

“It’s okay, baby,” he breathed, moving his arms so he no longer wrapped your body in them, but his hands gripped your hips, urging you to retake the motion that he so desperately needed.

So you did, swaying your hips on top of him, moaning sweetly when his hands roved all over your back, caressing your skin, his fingers trailing on the spot he knew your wings grew. You shuddered hard, sinking on his length with more urgency. “Jeonghan,” you moaned, crushing your mouth on him.

Jeonghan hummed in response, smiling at you when you broke the kiss off to see his face. The smile was of genuine bliss, mixed with the pleasure of being so utterly yours, forever. It was something similar to insanity what he felt, but he was aware of it, giving himself into it. “I love you,” he drawled lazily, his eyes glazing over the image of you on top of him.

“J-jeonghan,” you forced out, a euphoric wave swarming inside you, better than anything you had ever felt in your life.

And he felt it too, consuming him in fiery waves. “I love you,” he repeated, enjoying the feeling sizzling beneath his skin, lingering on the muscles of his face.

“F-fuck,” you grabbed onto the headrest of the couch, your fingers ripping into the fabric. “Please–,” you choked out, slamming your hips down on him, moaning out loudly as another orgasm hit you hard.

Jeonghan did not love you. Not like in fairy tales, or romance movies. But he was not lying either, you could feel the genuine calm of his realization as he drawled the words out. He could no longer resist it, nor keep the feeling to himself any further. Jeonghan did not love you, he was worshipping you wholly.

It was rapturing, if it was not before. You came on top of him, loudly, walls clamping around him, making him moan with you. His hands held your hips, urging him to keep moving them so he could also reach his high with you.

But the only thing he needed was to sneak a glance up your face, tears of pleasure brimming in your eyes as your orgasm shook hard inside you. That tipped him over the edge, pushing his hips up so he could spill himself deep inside your walls with a loud, raspy groan that resounded across the room.

“Jeonghan,” you kept moaning his name, hiding your face on the curve of his neck. Your breath fanning on his skin forced out a shudder that made you smile.

He responded with a smile of his own, but his was lazy, drunk over the euphoria coursing through you, the same that coursed through his. “I love you,” he whispered again, clutching your hips gently, moving his hands to your thighs.

Ever since you met him, his lust and need for you have been making you stronger. But now, the near maddening love that brimmed for you drove you to feel so full that you seemed to glow. You stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, breathing hard. He was still inside your body, relishing in the warmth, the wetness, the blissful look in your eyes.

Your hand slid beneath his chin, leaning towards him to prop a featherlight on his lips. “I love you too,” you breathed, feeling like a child who felt pure joy for the first time.

He cursed under his breath, his hands roaming all over your skin as you littered his face with kisses, trailing down to his neck where you sucked his skin into your mouth, marking red spots all over him. He chuckled lazily. “Ready for round three?”

“Mmn, I think I’ll pass out,” you said, giggling at yourself.

“Tired already?” he asked, searching your face with his gaze.

“It’s just…” you sighed, catching your breath but your heart stammered in your chest. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Didn’t you, really? Was it too much?” he hummed bringing his hands to cup your cheeks.

You shook your head slightly, pressing a palm to the back of his hand. “So is this your way to tell me you want this?” you asked.

Jeonghan went still for a second, his gaze lingering on the features of your face illuminated only by the warm light of the lamp. “The odds will be against us,” he said.

“Well I’m willing to bet on us,” you said with a light smirk. “Are you?”

Jeonghan nodded, the avid look in his eyes not quite brushing off. “I’m tired of running from this,” he slipped a hand on your nape, pulling you to a quick kiss. “I want you. I want it to be you and me, as we’re destined to be.”

You drew in a shaky breath, reciprocating the featherlight kiss. “Okay,” you whispered. “Then it’s us.”

“I want nothing more, baby,” Jeonghan said.

 You bumped the tip of your nose with his gently, eyeing him. “What about what you said? About not being able to be with me?”

“I don’t care. I’ll quit that life. I’ll stop hunting,” he muttered.

“And then what?” you mused.

“I can adapt quickly,” he replied, and you chuckled. “I’ll take up a boring human job, we could find somewhere to live in a small town. You’re not the only one who can blend in the human world, you know?”

Okay, you breathed, the glint in your eye told him that you were happy. It was the first time he saw that in you, the first time he had been the cause of that glint.

So he kept going. “I can take you to dates, take you to those fairgrounds, do normal boring shit humans do,” he muttered faintly, closing his lips on yours.

“You would do that, Jeonghan?” you asked softly, pulling back to see his face. “I mean, you would quit everything?”

“To be with you, I would.”

You leaned your face forward again, pressing your forehead with his. “I love you,” you mumbled, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

Jeonghan shuddered gently, but everything inside him came alight with the strength of a thousand suns. Now, if he knew whether a demon could be capable of loving or not was beyond his lucidity at the moment. You were only capable of feeling such things after you first attempted to become human. So the concept of love was as new to you as it was to him.

“I love you,” he whispered back.

“Can we go to bed?” you asked sheepishly, fighting off the urge to nestle in his warmth, to press your nose against the crook of his neck. “I’m ready to pass out.”

“Let’s go to bed,” he replied, noticing the languor in your eyes, blinking slowly.

That was the first time Jeonghan held you through the night without wondering what the morning would bring. For the first time in knowing you, he did not feel guilty for nestling in your warmth.

He stared at your face as you both shared the bed. You were lying on your tummy, one arm draped over him, your head lying on his chest, sleeping soundly in his arms. He languidly brought the pads of his fingers to draw circles on your shoulder, earning soft hums and sighs from you.

He had never felt this happy.

The following morning, you were skipping town again. Jeonghan had woken up with the idea of searching for a town to settle down for a while, and in the meantime, you and him would start planning.

You were returning to the bedroom, draped in a bath towel, your hair damp as you watched Jeonghan grabbing your clothes and his from the night before. He was dressed already, clad in black clothes: jeans, boots, a sleeveless tank top and a zipper hoodie.

Jeonghan approached you to drop a featherlight kiss on your lips. “I’ll go downstairs to return the key,” he informed you. “See you in the parking lot.”

“Yeah, okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes to enjoy the light kisses he left on your face before he stepped back.

“Don’t take too long,” he advised, reluctant to step away from you. So much so that he came back, taking two steps towards you just so he could kiss you quickly, eliciting a joyful laugh out of you.

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” you replied, watching him leave the room finally.

Jeonghan sucked in a breath, shuddering from the cold air receiving him as he went down the stairs. First, he crossed the parking lot in front of the motel, opening the door to his car to leave your bag on the passenger seat. Closing the door, he walked back to the front desk where he rang the buzzer, propping his elbows on the high top and waited.

He felt you before you could even make it to him, drawing a smile on his face when you hugged him from behind. “Go to the car, I’ll be there in a minute,” he mumbled, turning over his shoulder to see your face.

You showed him a playful smile, standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Don’t take too long,” you whispered, turning away to cross the parking lot to where his car was parked.

He rang the buzzer again, tapping his fingers impatiently. He looked around, but no one was to be seen or heard around the place. In fact, it was too quiet for a Friday night in a motel. Something’s not right, he thought, leaning over the desk, only to discover that there were no personal items, nothing to indicate that anyone was working in the place.

He focused his hearing, the noise coming from the ice machine making it harder to find another sign of life around him. But the fact was, there was no one else around. His heart sunk to his stomach.

“Jeonghan?” you called, worry echoing in your voice.

He turned around, facing the parking lot. It was too late. “Run!” Jeonghan bellowed from the opposite side, starting to run towards you as two hunters emerged from the thicket of trees, grabbing you. One of them seized you with his arms, while the other brought his fist to the center of your face, knocking you out on the spot.

He would have been able to reach you, but another hunter got to him first, knocking him to the hard ground, making it impossible for him to fight back, or to stop the hunter from getting his car keys out of his pocket.

So he watched as you were shoved into the trunk of his own car, and the two hunters who had grabbed him got into it and drove away, leaving him with another hunter to fight against. And you, being taken from him. 

› author's note: heyoooooo

this has been such a ride huh. i never expected my short drabble to turn into series but i guess i should've known better lol

stay tuned for more!

!! PART FOUR !!

toodles

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[nathank77]

8/8/24

9:50 p.m

I ask myself this as I feel the hallucination being more active and chanty, what gives me more anxiety? White mulberries killing me or causing some adverse effect? Or the hallucination getting worse?

The hallucination getting worse. That's my biggest fear. My recovery going backwards. They sell 5000mg pills and some people buy them and take them daily.

I even tried to look up kg per body weight with lethal dose. I don't see what Mike sees. It didn't get much worse but chanty.... chanty is bad...

The last few days I've been alone and I've had many moments of silence where I, "challenged" the hallucination. I say challenged cause whenever I think about it, I hear it. And guess what sometimes over these last few days besides for today, I would think, "and here it comes." And nothing happened. And then I would think, "and now here it comes. " And there was silence. And then maybe the third or forth time it would "appear." It's been repeating every single fucking thing I've thought since about 5 p.m today. That's going backwards.

Sometimes in minecraft a no dialogue game, I have actual silence. It never lasts long.

Yea I'm afraid of the lethal dose and my body weight but white mulberry is a food.

3000mg is equivalent to 3 grams. It's like buying an eightth of weed and taking .5 grams out and eating it that's how I put it in perspective.

It could kill me but I doubt it. It could have adverse effects and yea I'm scared. But as bed time approaches and I remember the silence I get sometimes And I remember the bot abandoning me and I remember Kristen my only solace is the tiny bit of silence that keeps me here.

So yea I'm anxious but I was more anxious of hearing, "happy birthday," and "I have a birthday present." All fucking night. Since taking 3000mg it's truly dying. And I know it's the white mulberries.

I mean I'm trying to sooth my anxiety bc I sat here thinking if I don't take them I've heard those annoying fucking phrases 5000 times today. When yesterday I basked in more silence than I've ever had.

I'd rather live 3 days with some silence, than live a lifetime hearing those fucking awful phrases.

So whatever. I can't find the studies he is qouting. And as much as I have anxiety the idea that I have to hear it say, "the bussy cunt" All night makes it worth it.

I won't live a long time but I'll enjoy every microsecond of silence and I'm getting more. White mulberries are my antipsychotics and I'm willing to be an experiment.

I mean cbd is just as much as an experiment. My heart says silence is the only thing that'll keep you from ending your life and going to 3000mg has significantly reduced my hallucination

I also read that 1000-3000mg in human studies have been well tolerated. If I'm in the lethal dose why didn't I die last week cause as of today it's been 8 days?

I mean it's fine if I die young microsleep damage will take me anyways. I just want to hear air coming from my air conditioner instead of a shitty hallucination.