#To See And To Hear

[blametheeditor]

To See And To Hear | Chapter 4

First | Previous

NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.

Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.

It's still Friday!

_____________

Jeremy can’t help but pace in the attempt to calm his nerves as he waits. 

Mike, on the other hand, isn’t nervous in the slightest. Had even put his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair, hat over his eyes in order to take a nap. Though this time he’s keeping all four wheels flat on the ground. 

And to be honest, seeing Mike so relaxed he’s able to sleep makes Jeremy feel a lot better about the fact he’s going to be meeting another ghost. Because if someone who’s still alive isn’t concerned despite Scott having warned them it most likely won’t be a calm meeting, then there really shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?

It would be right, if Jeremy didn’t know that Mike is the most fearless person he has ever met. Doesn’t flinch when animatronics who have discussed how they’ll kill him are standing only a few feet away. Antagonizes them at every opportunity by cussing them out proudly, though they’re starting to realize it’s done out of fondness. But his point still stands! 

So Jeremy continues to pace. Thinking about everything that can go wrong. Feels himself begin to tremble as he remembers what Scott said about people who die violently, that they tend to hold resentment toward the living even if they don’t deserve it. And if Scott had almost hurt Mike even though he cares about the night guard and that’s the reason why it almost happened then-! 

“Jerber,” Mike grumbles, earning a fearful squeak. “I can’t fucking sleep with your pacing, asshole.” 

Jeremy immediately stops before wringing his hands in guilt. “S-S-Sorry.” 

Mike moves his hat back to its proper place on his head, raising an eyebrow as he looks the ghost up and down. “What’s fucking with you?” 

“I’m w-w-worried,” Jeremy murmurs. “I-Isn’t it bad Scott w-warned us?” 

Mike looks up at the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. “Phone Guy and Purple Guy haven’t fucked with a lot of ghosts. But if the bastard is happy to follow Douche Bag here, sounds friendly to me. They just want to be goddamn careful. And I don’t listen to shit.” 

At least it’s admitted genuine concerns aren’t always heeded by the man. But that does make Jeremy feel better. He’s never met David, but he’s heard plenty of stories. So, maybe it will be okay. Scott wouldn’t take a chance when it comes to Mike’s life. He hasn’t met Vincent yet, but he’s pretty sure the same thing can be said. 

The ghost imitates taking a deep breath. Glances down the hallway in the hopes Scott appears soon. “When do y-y-you think-?” 

Jeremy jumps at the sound of keys unlocking the door. Becomes frozen when he realizes that’s not the sound he wants to hear. Because keys means a living person is entering the restaurant. Meaning the unknown ghost is here before Scott is. 

He’s going to be meeting them alone. 

Sugar honey iced tea. 

“Why are the lights on?” a voice growls, sounding almost menacing as it echos down the hallway. And then a towering figure appears at the very end, looking intimidating at such a far distance. With a fierce glare that has Jeremy thankful that, for once, he’s invisible. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Hey, Douche Bag,” why did Mike decide on that nickname! 

“Fucked Up Night Guard,” and never mind, now he understands... 

Jeremy holds his breath despite knowing he doesn’t need to breathe in the first place. But it’s truly terrifying watching the suited man make his way closer. Looking a lot like his disappointed father coming to lecture his disgrace of a son. He expects yelling. Possibly the demand Mike explains himself before interrupting and sending him out of the restaurant. 

Instead David shoves Mike’s legs, forcing him to sit in the chair properly. “I know you weren’t raised properly, but even Eggs knows not to put your feet up on the desk.” 

“I wasn’t goddamn hurting it.” 

“It’s the principle of the matter, show some respect. And why are you here so early, it’s only half past 8.” 

“Wanted to fuck some shit up.” 

Jeremy waits, tense because he knows there’s going to be shouting. But the longer the two talk to each other without any raised voices, the more he relaxes. Up until the moment he spots a much smaller, much friendlier looking figure standing just outside of the hallway. Who’s distinctly transparent. 

Any fear he might’ve felt considering this was the ghost Scott had been concerned about, and Jeremy feels nothing but pity. This ghost, he doesn’t look older than sixteen. He died a violent death with no one around to help him? 

The ghost suddenly looks over at him with wide eyes. Takes a moment to glance over at David before giving a small hopeful wave toward Jeremy. One that’s immediately returned. 

“Not that I love our conversations,” makes both of them jump at the hostility dripping from David’s voice. “But I came here at this time to avoid you.” 

If Jeremy had to talk to the tall man, he would’ve agreed and left, no matter how much time would be wasted going home just to come back later to work his shift. But Mike only shrugs, unbothered by the fact his presence isn’t wanted. “Sorry, Douche Bag, guess you’re shit out of luck. But I can fuck off to another room, or I can help with shit you need. Your fucking choice.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before a finger is pointed down the hallway. “Show me where the keys to the basement is. Your dumbass of a manager keeps avoiding my calls like a coward.” 

“Not my shitty ass manager,” Mike says as he obediently stands up to lead David to the keys. 

“They are whenever you’re working a shift in this dump.” 

Jeremy almost follows after his friend out of habit, only holding himself back this time with a reminder he technically has a guest. And considering Scott isn’t here then the responsibility relies solely on him. Someone who has never been good at human interaction. Or, ghost interaction in this case. 

Meaning he watches Mike leave with a look of panic. 

“I’m Fritz,” earns a squeak of surprise. But instead of being watched with bewilderment or even annoyance, Jeremy’s only sees a smile. “Were you the friend Vincent told me about?” 

“N-N-No,” Jeremy responds. Waves his hands at the way it sounded like Fritz somehow came to the wrong place. As if he was supposed to meet different ghosts. “I-I mean I’m not Vincent’s f-f-friend, but I know h-his friend! He’s late, though, s-so f-for now it’s...just me.” 

That was the worst way to greet someone newly dead! He’s terrible at this, he’s going to make Fritz regret ever wanting to meet another ghost! He’ll think no one cares and this was all a big mistake agreeing to meet them and he’ll never want to talk to any of them including Mike or Vincent and it’ll all be Jeremy’s fault! 

“Late?” Fritz asks, his smile growing wider instead of it disappearing. “Does he work too?” 

“I don’t th-th-think so. He told me h-he follows Vincent everywhere, b-b-but h-he's never given details.” Jeremy wrings his hands. Freezes as the question fully processes. “T-T-Too? Do you work?” 

Fritz blushes. “I, uh, answer the phones after hours for Mr. Harrison.” 

“Like r-recordings?” he asks, a little confused. It’s a much more professional title for what him and Scott do. 

“No, actual calls with customers,” the teenager clarifies with a nervous chuckle. “You’d be surprise how many parents are willing to call at midnight just to be able to book for a party. Or people who just don’t realize how late it is and wanting more information on how the animatronics work.” 

Jeremy stares for a moment. Slowly thinks over what all of it meant until it registers that a fellow ghost not only has an actual job, but he talks to those who are living. 

“They h-h-hear you?” Jeremy breathes. Amazed by the thought someone other than Mike would be able to actually hear him with just a phone. 

“Sometimes I wish they didn’t,” Fritz grins. “There’s been a few times I sighed a little too loudly while talking to Mr. Harrison. I’m just glad I don’t really need my paycheck because at this point he’s lowered it to a dollar an hour.” 

Jeremy’s mouth almost drops open at someone docking a paycheck for sighing. “Your boss s-s-sounds...” 

“Controlling? Egotistical? Definitely will never figure out on his own a ghost is working for him?” the younger guesses. And even though it’s been numerous times this is someone who had a violent death, there’s no trace of malice, of anger. There’s no hint of frustration even though Jeremy certainly would be working for someone like that with seemingly no way out. Even if he couldn’t use the money, it’d still upset him! 

But Fritz seems to have more control over his emotions than Scott does. Or maybe that’s just his personality. Whatever it is, Jeremy likes him. Feels guilty for ever thinking Fritz is someone to be scared of, or worried that he’d lash out at someone. 

“...i-interesting.” 

Fritz laughs at the very kind way of describing it. “So do you work?” 

“K-K-Kind of? I help M-Mike keep the T-T-Toys out of the office,” Jeremy murmurs. Compared to what Fritz does, how can he claim he works? He can’t even get in trouble, and if he doesn’t wind the toy box in time then Mike would get killed. But if he doesn’t do it, no one will, because apparently Mari doesn’t deserve to have his music played. Even if it’s the only way to ensure Mike isn’t killed. 

There may come a day when Jeremy gets as upset as Scott did due to Mike’s disregard for death... 

Fritz gives him a confused look. “Why do you need to keep them out? Do they like to mess with the paperwork?" 

Jeremy suddenly feels like he is completely unequipped to explain that the animatronics, most likely including Fritz’s, aren’t as friendly as believed. It definitely took him a while to come to terms with the Toys not only being murderer’s, but enjoy it. It’s not something you just say, though. 

“D-D-Did you work at Freddy’s b-before?” 

“For about a month,” Fritz says, his voice getting quite, eyes watching the ground as if it’ll disappear. And maybe it even might because it seems like the younger is fading. “I was a waiter before my...accident.” 

Oh. So that means... 

Jeremy reaches his hand out before he can think about it being a bad idea. He doesn’t touch Fritz, not wanting to make the younger uncomfortable, but his hand is almost immediately grabbed. Gently squeezed in what he could safely assume is meant to be a thank you. There’s no sudden hug like he did to Scott, but at least Fritz doesn’t get any dimmer. 

“I-I-I never worked for Freddy’s b-before I died,” Jeremy offers, hoping it sounds supportive. Because he knows what it feels like, haunting an unfamiliar place he never thought would be his grave. One that was meant to be a happy memory instead of becoming a fatal visit. “It’s k-kind of cool learning s-secrets I-I-I never would’ve otherwise.” 

Fritz laughs loudly, most likely not expecting such a morbid sentiment. Which Jeremy hadn’t meant it to be! “That’s true.” 

“Hopefully anything you do learn doesn’t scare you away,” has both of them jumping, having missed Scott’s entrance. Despite the scare Jeremy’s just glad he’s finally here, more than happy to let the sandy haired man take over and make sure Fritz wants to come back after this. “Sorry for being late. I’m Scott, the friend Vincent told you about.” 

Fritz lets go of Jeremy’s hand in order to shake Scott’s. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Scott smiles. “I hope Jeremy has been good to you.” 

Jeremy sputters, admittedly offended by the thought Scott was concerned he wouldn’t be good to Fritz. “M-M-Me? You should’ve been w-worried about Mike!” 

“I’m worried about him for other reasons,” the older ghost admits. 

“Jeremy’s been amazing,” Fritz reassures. Something that admittedly makes Jeremy feel a little better with the confirmation. “I’m, I was surprised another ghost would want to meet me. Usually they’re a bit possessive.” 

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, Scott’s nodding his head like he understands. “Vincent’s been my best friend even before I died, but I’m more just on the cautious side because I know how dangerous we can get. He hasn’t met Jeremy yet, but that’s more so on preference rather than me not wanting him to.” 

Preference? Does that mean Vincent doesn’t want to meet him? What did Jeremy do someone doesn’t want to meet him! 

“Bad memories?” Fritz guesses, his expression kind and voice soft. 

“For different reasons.” Oh. Oh. He never thought, he never asked how or where Scott- oh no. “But you never have to worry about Jeremy and I.” 

The mentioned ghost jolts when he realizes he hadn’t really been part of the conversation, quick to nod in agreement. “N-N-Never!” 

Fritz beams at the confirmation they want to be friends. Jeremy’s almost scared to ask what kind of ghosts the teenagers met before, but they can talk about it later. And possibly loop back around to what was meant by being possessive. But later! 

“How have you been, Fritz?” 

The teenager suddenly goes pale, looking almost afraid. “I-I’ve been okay.” 

This isn’t how Jeremy expected it to go. He had been emotional finally meeting someone who understood his situation, but it was definitely mostly relief rather than fear. 

“You have a lot of energy, don’t you?” Scott asks. 

Now Jeremy has another thing to be confused about. But Fritz understands as he nods somberly. “I’ve accidentally broken about two phones now.” 

“Only two phones? You haven’t made any lightbulbs explode?” 

“H-Have you?” Jeremy demands, not liking how proud Scott sounds. And what kind of broken, did the phones also explode! 

“More than I can count,” Scott smiles even though he shouldn’t be. “It used to be impossible for me to walk into a room without making at least one explode.” 

Fritz is now grinning. “I haven’t had anything like that, just flickering and making the room cold.” 

“Well color me impressed.” 

“Are we s-s-supposed t-to be able to do that?” Jeremy questions. Not knowing if he wants the answer. 

“It, uh, depends on how you died,” Fritz explains. “Tragic deaths tend to give ghosts a lot of energy and they appear pretty quickly. Quiet deaths give ghosts little to no energy, and it takes them a little longer to appear. Both gain more as time passes, one just starts with a little more.” 

Jeremy looks up at Scott for confirmation, only to find the older watching Fritz with suspicion. “How many ghosts have you met before us?” 

“Oh! Uh, quite a few. But I’ve only met you two after I died.” 

He can’t help but feel disappointed Scott and him weren’t the first Fritz met. At least that means all of his questions can get answered if Scott can’t. 

...wait. 

“You,” Scott begins as Jeremy can only stare at Fritz. They’re both speechless for a minute as the teenager starts to look more and more nervous. “You could see ghosts before this?” 

“Y-Yeah, I-” 

Fritz yelps as Scott grabs his arm before pulling him out of the office. Leaving Jeremy behind, uncertain what just happened. Hesitates before darting after the two, both from the want to not be left out and a little worried what the older ghost was planning. 

He thought they would go into a more private room. Maybe to Mike in order to test something. Instead, Scott walks through the front doors. 

Jeremy stops just before he leaves the restaurant. Stares into the darkness, unsure where Scott and Fritz are without bright lights illuminating the parking lot. For once in over a year he actually contemplates going outside. 

It fills him with terror, thinking about leaving the one place he’s familiar with, even if he only goes out a few feet. Because Fazbear Pizzeria has been the only thing he’s ever known since his death. It’s where the Toys are, the ones who have been there for him ever since the beginning of him haunting the restaurant. It has the sound of Mike’s voice echoing through the dinning room, the only living person he’s interacted with after being nothing but invisible to hundreds of other people. 

What if he gets lost? What if something happens to him? What if he just disappears? 

“Hey, Jerber.” 

Jeremy nearly screams at the sound of Mike’s voice, turning away from the daunting outside to see a familiar smirked aimed toward him. 

“You sc-sc-scared me!” 

“Sorry, Douche Bag got sick of my ass, so I came to fuck with you.” Mike looks outside then back at Jeremy’s glare. “Want to go outside?” 

The ghost wrings his hands before slowly nodding. “W-W-Will...will I d-disappear?” 

“Phone Guy’s ass doesn’t,” the man muses. “Irish Jig walked all the goddamn way here. Why can’t Jerber’s?” 

That...is a valid question. But what if he can’t? Fritz said Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to make the room cold because he had a quiet death. He doesn’t know how Scott died, but he’s made lightbulbs explode. So what if he doesn’t have enough energy to survive like the other two do? 

Jeremy suddenly offers his hand, staring up at Mike with a pleading expression. The man doesn’t say anything as he takes the ghost’s hand. 

It’s warm. Instead of feeling a freezing chill when someone walks through him, Jeremy’s hand feels warm. Like it’s actually being held. And then he’s being tugged forward as Mike opens the door and walks outside. 

Mike isn’t left alone in the night as Jeremy fades away. The ghost stays right by his side, not even growing dimmer as they make their way toward what sounds like an argument. 

“It’s not my fault I apparently repel ghosts!” 

“Who else’s would it be!” 

It takes a moment for Jeremy to realize the voice Scott is yelling at isn’t familiar. And at first, he doesn’t see the unknown person. But he does sense something. Like a bad feeling. One that makes him want to run in the opposite direction. 

He doesn’t resist Mike’s gentle pull as he guides them closer. “Hey, assholes, you forgot the fucking Jerber.” 

Fritz gasps when he spots them. Scott turns to them with a look of remorse. And then a living shadow gives them a smile. 

That. That is what’s giving him the bad feeling screaming danger. 

“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t even think about it,” Scott murmurs. 

“Jeremy, it’s nice to properly meet you,” the shadow greets. “Scotty’s told me so much, I was disappointed when you weren’t part of the welcoming party.” 

Now that they’re closer, the shadow becomes a tall figure. With long hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a Fazbear uniform. Who’s a deep purple from head to toe. 

Scott gestures to the man, as if he doesn’t feel the paralyzing sense of terror radiating from him. “Jeremy, this is Vincent. Fritz, this is Mike. Mike, Fritz.” 

Fritz stares for a moment. Gives a small wave. “H-Hi.” 

“Your boss is a dick, Irish Jig.” 

That earns Mike a smile. But Jeremy can’t seem to move. 

“So about this repellent,” Vincent begins as he looks Jeremy up and down with interest. “How does it work, exactly?” 

“I-It’s a sense.” Fritz only looks concerned. Opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it. “You feel like danger, so spirits will automatically avoid you. Some can ignore it. Others, n-not so much.” 

“Fucking with shit, Purple Guy?” 

“Seems like it,” Vincent hums. “Tell me everything you know.” 

Jeremy has a feeling it’s going to be a long night. 

[littlelightfish]

Funny things I found out playing with language setting in Netflix while looking episode 15:

Chilchuck's scream sounds HAUNTED in brazilian portuguese. Give it a try if you can.

(You can hear it here)

In spanish dub, Senshi says: "tocó mis senos de hombre", which means "he touched my man boobs" in Spanish. And I think that's the best dub line one so far.

[aueua]

people with siblings: how do you feel about them?

[craftbadger]

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but if you’re at a low point:

If you were a fictional man right now, there would be *at least* ten people if not a large portion of the fanbase that would call you their wet beast poor little meow meow

[elegyofthemoon]

It's still surprising to see people say that when they see the upcoming strike post I made that this is the first time they're hearing about it, especially because I've seen several posts now talking about the same strike.

That being said: regardless of what kind of blog you are, please spread the news about the genocide, the strikes, boycotts, etc.

Even if you are a small blog, spreading word allows for more people to know what's going on and also do their part in protests and strikes, and maybe even the right people will be able to do more than what you're able to do.

And reminder: there is an upcoming strike on February 18th-25th. Prepare accordingly, protest, boycott, call your reps, and spread the word so more people are aware.

[windkonig]

when people say "ok but x bug has no benefit to nature" I bet they can't even name 5 facts about the bug they're shitting on. so how could they Possibly know what its function is in the environment and if it's "useless" or not

wasps being the perfect example, I still get people saying "oh bees are cute and pollinate :) yay. but WASPS ARE EVIL and they don't contribute ANYTHING!!!" and it's like buddy. wasps pollinate too. they also control spider populations. they do a lot of great valuable things. but even if they didn't, they're still worthy of being here. I see SO much hatred toward wasps and I wish people would try to learn a little more about them.

I'm mainly talking about paper wasps here because these are common ones we run into in daily life and most commonly deemed "aggressive". but wasps have body language. and if you learn to read this language and learn how to properly act around them, things will go a lot better for you! wasps can be curious creatures and they may come up to observe you, especially if you're wearing something brightly colored. this can be startling for sure, but my best advice is to just be still, DO NOT SWAT or wave your arms. try to just back away or sidestep so it loses interest and leaves. swatting is just gonna make them feel as if they are being attacked and increase your chances of being stung.

many stings happen due to unfortunate but accidental circumstances. unknowingly getting too close to a nest, stepping on a wasp on accident, one getting stuck in clothing, etc. I got stung once while gardening, went to pull a weed and the wasp was on it, so I grabbed her without knowing and she stung me because she was scared. this doesn't mean "oh wasps are AGGRESSIVE and EVIL" it means you stumbled into an unfortunate situation where the wasps felt threatened and defensive. instead of being like "FUCK all wasps" go forward trying to learn about common nesting areas, be wary of holes in the ground, wear gloves while gardening, and if you do have to be around a nest, try not to make a lot of noise. if the nest absolutely needs removed, call a professional.

[azherwind-art]

"Tell your favorite creators that you like their work, people usually enjoy things silently, but hate tends to be loud"

This is a phrase I just heard from Dnd shorts that captures perfectly why I often try to make the effort of commenting on posts and telling people that I enjoy their work and why Even to small creators, I advice everyone to make the extra effort to tell them, I can guarantee it makes all the difference in the world, it's not cringy or obnoxious, it'll just brighten someone's day

[funkyplantguy]

y'all scar won THREE of grian's mugs i'm sobbing on the floor

[noodles-and-tea]

Jmart is such a cute name too 😭

[chloesimaginationthings]

Can’t wait for this Withered Bonnie scene in FNAF 2 movie,,

[radioroxx]

this is kerdly 2 me. btw

[blametheeditor]

To See And To Hear | Chapter 2

Previous | Next

NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.

Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.

It's the Jerber!

____________________________________

Scott stares up at the familiar sign of Fazbear’s Pizzeria, fear and uncertainty washing over him. A feeling he hasn’t felt in honest to God years. 

Why would he? Ever since he died, the only he thing he’s had to worry about is Vincent accidentally leaving him behind at one of the restaurants and force the ghost to figure out where he went. Even then it’s nothing more than a chore considering there are only four other places he could be, it’d just be a matter of traveling to each location to check for a lurking shadow, and then possibly recheck them again if the purple man backtracked after realizing his mistake. 

But this will be the first time he’s possibly meeting another ghost. And not just any one, but someone who died at a Fazbear location. Meaning they’re damned to haunt the restaurants for eternity with how much luck Scott’s had when it comes to moving on. 

...who could it be? One of the original children? A night guard in which Scott would be the last person they’d want to see? Will they be hostile and turn out to be a threat, or will they just be confused and grateful to have someone who knows what they’re experiencing? 

Honestly, it breaks his heart at the thought of how long they might’ve been without a friendly face. Prays it hasn’t made them become resentful of those still living. He learned early on the animatronics can see and hear him, but they’re not human. And, no offense to the Toys, but they aren’t exactly the most welcoming compared to the Originals, though God forbid someone gets trapped with the Funtimes. 

“You alright, Scotty?” 

“Yeah,” Scott falls over his shoulder. Grateful to have Vincent by his side, even if his best friend couldn’t come inside the restaurant. He’ll come running if there’s trouble. “I’ll be right back, Vince.” 

He then takes a deep breath. Despite it only being an imitation, it’s a familiar action that’s helped ground him time and time again. With that he walks through the closed doors without issue. 

One glance at the stage confirms the Toys are locked in place, powered down until the clock strikes midnight. Right now it’s 11:30pm, giving him enough time to confirm if a ghost truly does haunt the restaurant, give a promise to come back another time if there is, and leave before they wake up. Not that he doesn’t like the Toys, they can just be a bit...much. 

Hopefully they haven’t convinced the ghost to start murdering people for the hell of it. 

Scott slowly makes his way through the familiar restaurant. The first place he ever worked. Where he met Vincent. Where- 

Focus. Lives could be at stake.

Nothing stands out to him as he checks off the different rooms. No missing items or burst lightbulbs. Hell, there doesn’t seem to be a distinct chill in the air when he passes through the door to parts and service, the room that always makes him shiver completely vacant. 

At least that can prove Eggs really can’t sense ghosts. 

He turns to leave before jolting when he hears a familiar laugh echo down the hallway. Confused until he remembers that Mike has been alternating between this location and Freddy Fazbear’s due to absolutely no new applications coming in for the night shift. Not that Scott can blame anyone, but that meant the young man had to do a bit more traveling depending on the week. 

The ghost makes his way toward the office, wanting to see how Mike’s handling the Toys so far. Vincent had only laughed when he learned the Originals had been intimidated by him, but Scott’s hoping that’s not what happened here. Their most valuable night guard would’ve kept his promise not to challenge over 6 foot tall animatronics who can snap his neck without any effort, right? 

“Hold the fuck on. Your ass can’t eat a goddamn ghost pepper?” 

...who is Mike talking to? 

Scott runs when it clicks, skidding to a halt at the office’s opening, freezing at the sight that greets him. 

Mike’s feet are kicked up onto the desk as he leans back in the rolling chair, somehow able to balance on only two legs without the wheels spinning to make him crash to the floor. And to his left stands a kid who doesn’t look older than 16. One with brown curls, wide grey eyes, and is translucent enough Scott can make out the pattern on the wall behind him. 

So there is a ghost. One Mike apparently found and didn’t tell anyone. 

“Michael!” 

Scott watches as the young man barely jumps from his name being yelled, but it’s enough to disrupt the careful balance needed to keep his chair from falling, meaning the guard disappears from sight as he’s thrown backwards. There is no sympathy despite it sounding like he most likely cracked his head open. 

“God-fucking-damn it.” 

“M-M-Mike!” the kid exclaims, running over to where Mike lies as he stares down in horror, hands hovering but unable to offer any help. “Are y-you okay!” 

“Fucking fine.” A hand grabs the desk as Mike laboriously pulls himself up, blue eyes locking onto the silently fuming ghost glaring daggers. “Well shit, Phone Guy. What the hell did I do?” 

“Why the hell did you not tell us there was a God damn ghost!” 

He doesn’t notice the light above him is flickering, nor the fact that he can see Mike’s breath every time he exhales. Because Scott has trained himself not to get too upset, all too aware of the damage he could cause when he’s worked up. There were times at the very beginning when not even Vincent was able to calm him down before the purple man got thrown into a wall. 

But this is different. He’s told Mike how dangerous interacting with the paranormal can be, including Scott. He’s hurt his best friend before, so why would the young man be so flippant with his own life with a stranger who clearly never worked for Afton. 

What if had gotten killed! He could’ve ended up just like-! 

“Phone Guy.” 

Scott blinks. Flinches when he realizes Mike is standing directly in front of him. Sucks in a gasp at the realization there’s hands resting on his shoulders. As if he’s corporeal. As if he’s alive. 

That’s when he notices Mike’s uncontrollable shivers, even breathing out his nose leaves a small cloud visible for a few moments. “You’re scaring the Jerber, asshole.” 

All of his anger vanishes within seconds. Horrified he might’ve just traumatized the kid. Made him think other ghosts were like that, ready to snap at any second. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“I fucked up,” Mike smirks as he removes his hands, Scott clenching his jaw to keep from asking how the impossible had been done. “I’m sorry for being an asshole and not telling you Jerber was bitching with me on my shifts over here.” 

“I’m sorry for almost cracking your head open,” the ghost murmurs. 

Mike then turns to gesture toward the poor kid trembling behind the desk. Who stares at Scott with a mix of concern and terror. “Jerber, this is Phone Guy. Phone Guy, Jerber.” 

“Scott,” he clarifies. Almost holds a hand out to shake before deciding against it. “I-I’m sorry for loosing my temper. I just, I was worried Mike wasn’t being...careful.” 

‘Jerber’ watches him for a few moments before taking a step forward. He then squeaks when he goes through the desk, jumping back before slowly walking around it in order to fully join the conversation. Though he makes a point to stay a safe distance away, using Mike as a barrier between them. “So, y-y-you're a ghost t-too?” 

At least he didn’t fuck up completely. “I am. Have been for about twenty years, though I apparently don’t act like it with the stunt I just pulled.” 

He’s looked up and down before a glance is shot toward Mike. When Scott’s nodded toward, a hand is then suddenly offered. “I’m J-J-J-Jeremy.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Scott says, earnestly, shaking the hand in greeting. He almost jumps in surprise when they actually make contact. Instead of passing through the other they connect as if they were living. 

It’s nothing like how Mike’s touch was, with warm flesh that pulsed with a heartbeat, but it’s much more comforting. The tangible confirmation he’s not the only one anymore, no longer alone. If Jeremy decides Scott is allowed to continue talking to him. 

That’s when Jeremy flings himself at Scott, the ghost extremely unprepared considering he’s not used to things or people being able to interact with him. That doesn’t mean he didn’t instinctively catch the kid to pull into a stunned hug as he’s clung to, it just meant he nearly fell backwards to send them both to the floor. A little confused how quickly he had been forgiven. 

And then it all comes together as the younger ghost sobs into his shoulder. 

Scott hugs Jeremy as tightly as possible, gently rubbing the kid’s back, happy to offer what little support he can. Because who knows how long he’s been dead for. Left to wonder around the restaurant where children can run right through you without even noticing. Maybe needed multiple weeks just to gain the courage to leave whatever room had become a temporary grave. Maybe a permanent one depending on if a body was ever found and taken to be buried. 

At least Scott had Vincent. To be honest, he got incredibly lucky considering his best friend has been able to be there for him all these years. Able to see and hear him. Can even respond to questions in front of others with sign language when backs are turned. If the purple man wasn’t able to, if he never found the ghost and promised to continue staying by each other’s side, Scott might not’ve calmed down before severely injuring Mike. He might’ve even joined the animatronics in killing every night guard just to send Afton a message someone’s biding their time. 

He might’ve even tried to kill Vincent and succeeded. 

At least it hasn’t been long enough that Jeremy’s thought about going down that path. Maybe the Toys are owed a thank you for that. 

“S-S-Sorry,” Jeremy sniffles as he pulls away, hands wiping at his tears before freezing when there’s only a phantom feeling of wetness where they should be. “I’m still not u-u-used to this.” 

And that’s something that won’t change no matter how much time passes. “It’s a lot. How long have you been a ghost for?” 

“A y-y-year.” 

Now Scott feels awful avoiding this location as much as he can. Vincent’s one thing, but the one who’s already dead shouldn’t have let himself be controlled by bad memories. Not when he can’t get killed again. 

“I’m sorry we missed you,” he begins, eyebrows raising when Jeremy immediately waves his hands. 

“N-No, it’s okay! The Toys have k-k-kept me company! And I sleep d-during th-the day before playing the...” The kid’s eyes widen before he gasps. “They’re y-y-your recordings!” 

Oh God. 

“Holy shit,” reminds Scott that Mike is still here. And wearing a shit-eating grin. “You have more of those goddamn things, Phone Guy?” 

He honestly forgot about the ones for this location. He can’t be at two places at once, so when it came to choosing which play button he’d much rather press, it ended up being for the ones at Freddy Fazbear’s. Especially because it was the least he could do to try and ensure no one else ended up with the same fate. Not that it really seemed to do much, and he couldn’t exactly make better one’s considering that would make Afton extremely suspicious and poke around in things Scott would never want him to. And over the years he forgot there were others. Many, many others. 

“You’ve been playing them?” Scott asks. Grateful someone has been helping those hired for this location for the past year. Worried how Jeremy knows they exist. 

“The Toys told me a-a-about them! Said th-they were helpful for n-n-new g-guards, so I’ve been p-playing them. I accidentally s-slept in on Mike’s first shift, but he d-d-didn't need it, so I’ve been helping in o-other ways.” 

So Jeremy wasn’t as unlucky guard and instead met his untimely end another way. By the way he talks about the Toys, it doesn’t seem like it was a death by animatronic at all. Which is concerning, but not as much as apparently being able to help Mike during his shift. 

It doesn’t help that Mike is nodding his head. “We’ve been fucking shit up.” 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

Scott whirls around at the familiar growl, swallowing down fear clawing at his throat at the sight of Marionette slowly walking down the hallway toward them. It’s irrational to be afraid of the puppet, and yet the ghost’s heart would’ve started beating widely if he still had one as he’s given a glare. 

At least he’s not alone, Jeremy squeaking at the towering animatronic’s presence. “Long time no see, Mari.” 

“Cut the bullshit, Cawthon. Where the hell is he?” 

“Outside,” Scott says honestly. “He won’t hesitate to come inside if you go after Mike, however.” 

“Seriously?” Bon demands as he peers into the hallway. An angry finger is pointed toward said night guard who returns it with a middle finger. “How the fuck did this asshole get your blessing?” 

“At this point they’re adopting everything they come across,” Marionette growls. “I’ll go tell the other’s Scott’s teaching Jeremy he should trust strangers if they’re offering candy.” 

“I am doing no such thing!” Scott calls after the retreating figures. 

“And I didn’t offer Jerber shit!” Mike joins in. 

“Michael, if you’re not sitting at the desk and winding the music box in three seconds, God so help you.” 

Mike obediently does as he was instructed, though they both know it’s not out of fear for what Scott would do. He wishes it was at the very least it was to ensure the young man isn’t killed tonight, but they also know that’s not the reason either. 

Scott sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Well aware it’s his own fault for not checking the time despite knowing the Toys would be waking up soon. 

“A-A-Are you leaving?” Jeremy quietly asks. 

Scott looks at the kid looking a bit unsure if this is just a first meeting, or an only meeting. Because Mike would’ve confirmed he’ll be switching between the restaurants weekly, meaning the ghost will be alone all over again. And when you’re dead, you have no influence on if schedules get changed or if someone new to hire for the position is found. 

Fellow ghosts have no obligation to come back when the animatronics have made it clear his presence isn’t wanted. 

“I’ll be back,” Scott promises. “At some point this week. And next week when Mike’s at the other restaurant, but I have a feeling he’ll be dragging you over there with him.” 

Jeremy hugs him again. “Thank y-y-you.” 

This is going to get complicated.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[andthebeanstalk]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[st-hedge]

I hadn’t drawn the house of hades boys in years! Curse me! This isn’t exactly a remake of an old painting but it’s in the vibe of how I used to draw them all the time. Poetic and stealing kisses

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[wildflowercryptid]

black cat bitches, we've finally won.