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Remember when FNAF was a scary game about five rogue animatronics who wanted to stuff you into a suit because they thought you were a bare endoskeleton, and not a sad story about six murdered children outsmarting their murderer and propelling themselves into a 30+ year struggle trying to get somebody to realize that their souls were attached to run-down robots and were forced to use aggression in order for just even ONE PERSON to notice that something was seriously wrong, eventually ending their story in a literal blaze, which was the only thing that could truly free their spirits from purgatory and help them move on?

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Everybody’s doin’ it so why the hell should I?

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characters i love ♡ bobbi morse (agents of shield)

“I might decide to test that theory on your face.”

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❛— Yeah, I'm f-fine❜, she said. Lied. Her toes were bloodied  but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Between broken limbs and somehow suffocating to death, it was a bit of a breeze. It hurt  though, which was possibly why her eyes were watering. 

          ❛Don't worry about it. H-How are you... How are you n-nuh-ow? ❜

"Don’t panic"

Too late. Already panicking. He shook his head, scooting away a little noise. “Becky, ya know not ta touch my neck, you of all people know not ta touch it so why–”

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          It’s a trick                           It’s a trap.                                          It’s a tRICK                                                             IT’S NOT REAL

          …. and yet. That little voice. Small. Near insignificant; almost as transparent as the broken wing of a dragonfly, it returns: But… WHAT IF….?             The fingers were gone but the phantom of calloused pads remained.                              …. what if it’s NOT a trick….?           He hushes her, reaches for her hair and she FLINCHES instinctively, whining the way a wounded puppy might. It’s PATHETIC. How she HATES herself for being so FRIGHTENED. Her entire body trembles as though overtaken by a deadly fever. Not a single nerve goes unphased. Not a single muscle relaxed.                                 …. what if….?           And here’s that harrowing glimmer of HOPE. A reptilian piece of OLD days: days when things were GOOD. When it seemed she’d LIVE forever and death was the LAST thing on her mind. When she LOVED him. A part of her life, looking up to him as much as she did Miss Ava, if not MORE.

          ❛…. I… I promise – I pruh-homise… I’m s-soh-horry❜, she mumbles. Doesn’t look him in the eye, instead focused on a STAIN on his shirt – a maroon smear caused by the piece of flesh she spit back as it fell. The taste is like copper and ROTTEN tomatoes, sticking to the back of her throat. It won’t be going anywhere for a while….

           And just as she thought – BLINDLY HOPED she’d won her case, it wasn’t just her finger she thought would snap, but at this point, her entire HAND.                             … N̫͙͖̪̹̮O͇̩͕͜T̖͉̱͖ ͔̦̩̝R͎̤͓̭E҉̰̰͈̟̮̰Ḁ͕̹̣͍̯L̸̥̣̺           Her head jolts back, body arching and a tormented howl burst from her wide opened mouth, only to end a strangled groan from lack of oxygen. Oxygen she doesn’t NEED but the soul’s as STUPID as a living BRAIN apparently. 

           At this rate a moment’s more pressure and her finger will snap back onto the back of her HAND!

          ❛ — Y-YEH —❜, she croaks, tries to scream in case he might not HEAR. She tries to form more of the words, but nothing comes other than a breathless grunt, her free hand digging broken nails into his wrist to try and pry him from her THROAT because it’s all she can REACH, unable to rip

"Knock it off!"

Shout at my muse to see how they respond

 “Aw, does CHICKADEE hate it when mean old  UNCLE STEVIE grabs her face an’ forces her to LOOK AT HIM?” It’s not exactly like he’s a picture of perfect health —- his jaw looks like it’s going to bust loose again, features gaunt, grey and bruised. The hand clenching her cheeks holds with an IRON GRIP, mind, grinning at the sight of herstruggling, blonde curls tossing with every movement.“Bite me again, sweetheart, an’ I’ll pull each of y’pretty lil white teeth out ONE. BY. ONE.”

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          ❛New robot ideas❜, she echoed, her lip curled in DISGUST. Yes, these machines were broken. The stuttering voice loop sort of... creeped her out. She remembered how REAL they seemed a few years ago when her parents had first taken her here. Now, with all those glitches, it completely killed the realistic image of the cuddly animals taking care and entertaining the children. Or maybe she was OUTGROWING them, but she refused to think that. It was too sad an idea. 

           ❛ — .... I hope not❜, she mumbled, unable to hide her disappointment, not just at new animatronics, but at HERSELF.           But the next question cheered her up considerably, her features beaming as soon as Adele had inquired about her video game. ❛Bubble Bobble❜, she said, ❛it's simple, and it starts easy, but it gets harder as you go. You're a little dragon that spits bubbles, right? And you trap the enemies in them, then burst the bubble! You get points from the fruits you get when you burst the monsters. I'm the number one rank!❜Her little chest puffed in PRIDE. To a nine year old, this was a big achievement.

            ❛Oh! I can eat his candy❜, she chimed, but then realized how awful that was. ❛I'll give him half... Promise. PINKY promise. I will!❜She wasn't one to go back on her promises, thankfully, hard as it were. Sweets were just so difficult to RESIST. 

          ❛Wanna challenge me at the game? Come on!❜A bat of eyelashes. Puppy eyes and a wobbly lip — thanks for the crash course, Aaron — ❛Pretty please with a cherry on top?❜

“Mister Manager says we gonna get ‘em fixed soon, sugar. We’s just in a bit ‘uv trouble.” Money wise, at least, but, she wasn’t going to say that. Instead, Adele made to lean against the table, rummaging in her pocket for the selection of sweets she’d brought with her, all carefully wrapped in their different packaging, dumping the handful on the table so the kids could take their pick. She was the voice, mind and body of a nineteen year old, with the sugar and cake addiction of a young child.                             “We can’t seem t’find get hold ‘uv th’factory t’buy                             new parts, he says. They’s busy. New robot ideas.                             But I don’t think it’ll be as interestin’ as Freddy an’ his gang.”                             A little white lie, but how was a child going to know?                            The waitress moved to unwrap a ring pop, offering it                             to Becky as she continued speaking ‘round the lollipop                             in her mouth. “What’re y’playin’, anyways?”

She’d never really understood the arcade hype, usually because her interests were elsewhere, going to parties with her best friend, meeting cute boys and smoking. This was just something that payed the bills and her college fund, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. Adelias loved working with children. “I’m sorry t’hear ‘bout Aaron. I hope he comes int’ today. I bought all this candy an’ someone needs t’ eat it!”

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Quickly, the phantom took a step back, hands raised in surrender.

        ❛— I-I know! It was an -- an ah-accident! I'm sorry! ❜

                 And it WAS. She'd tripped. A new crack in the floor and her foot                  had stuck in it, propelled her forward and in an attempt at keeping                  herself from faceplanting, had clung to her friend, grabbing blindly                  onto him.

"Don’t panic"

Too late. Already panicking. He shook his head, scooting away a little noise. “Becky, ya know not ta touch my neck, you of all people know not ta touch it so why–”

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           As soon as the man took heed, she felt intense relief was through her.            There was still time! She couldn't die, but HE could. And she, in return,            would SUFFER. She fancied none of it. Perhaps it was that this man's            face, she could SEE. It wasn't blurry and there was no wearing purple            on him.                          He asked what IT wanted but she made no response just yet.                          A sharp turn to the left and into a room they went. The door hadn't                          been closed. She made no move to close it. If HE knew it had                          been opened prior their entrance, He'd know they were there. She                          guided the lanky man into the room full of old plush, most of them                          eaten away by time itself. Buttons popped. Missing eyes. All wore                          some version of the Freddy Fazbear shirt, if not the cap. Behind one                          of the counters she ducked, taking the Brit with her and slapping her                          hand over his mouth. ❛Shhh.❜ A shake of the head.

         The footsteps approached. Heavy. The whistling louder.          She closed her eyes and, while she'd long stopped believing,          PRAYED.

Runaway Train

Devil?               Thirty years?

“Y-Yeah, alrigh’ come on then.” Rudy took lead a little bit, that was all he needed to hear after a bit of a run in with Agents of Satan and can only imagine this could be fucking worse. Rudy now knew how important it was to know about places and people and the like – he might start listening…

              Left or right?                               Down another corridor or open a door and see what’s behind?

Extending his free hand, Rudy pointed down the hall, “Come on, show us which way…dun’t fancy dyin’ not yet…!” If he lived he’d bring all the music in the world to this woman here…woman? Ghost…whatever she was, even he didn’t know nor care at this exact point in time.

              Was the whistling getting louder?

The whistling sent horrible images into his head and reminded him of Three someone he knew – causing the tall male to shake a little, “W-Wot does it want…?”

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          No, she wasn't sure it was the right freezer. For all Becky knew, none of them were and there was a secret stash hidden somewhere so the likes of HER wouldn't go stealing it all. Surely the big cheese had caught on she was a bit of a glutton by now.

          ❛Let's check then❜, she announced and with a bounce in her step, made it to the first freezer alongside Ava. The woman pried the thick cap opened, releasing a misty cloud of ice as soon as warm air struck arctic cold. On tip toes Becky peeked inside. Found what she was looking for: sealed bags of frozen red. Just like her Rebirth Mother, her belly screamed for filling -- most of it in Becky's head, but who was checking? 

          ❛I dunno❜, she responded with another shrug and a lick of lips. Honestly, she’d have sucked on it like a Popsicle if it was left in her hands. ❛Maybe try five minutes?❜

“Well, knowing you missy, you probably would follow him.” Ava said with a grin as she got up and wobbled a bit. She hadn’t stood in at least a day and her knees almost gave out but after leaning on the couch for support for a minute, she seemed to be fine. As she began to walked, she had to use the wall as support, not wanting to crush Becky, and her head began to spin. She hadn’t eaten or drank in a few days and the effects were hitting her now that she was off her ass.

As they approached the kitchen, Ava eyed the three freezers before looking down at her little chickadee. “You sure that’s the right freezer?” She asked, making her way slowly to it and opening the door. A few gallons of blood met there eyes and a strong almost frenzied hunger took over. “Microwave, hm?” She muttered as her focus stayed on the blood. “Where’s the microwave?”

She removed the gallon and shut the door behind her before turning to face the young one again and noticing the microwave in the corner. “Ah, there it is!” She proclaimed triumphantly and walked over, grabbing a few glasses from the sink and pouring the slushied crimson into the crystal glasses. “He ever say how long he puts them in there for?”

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22/? Supernatural Screencaps

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