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zablife · 2 years

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Tachipen (Part 2)

Tommy x female reader

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known.

Author’s Note: This was requested by @honey-im-hotdog who asked for a fic about Charlie’s nanny. I decided to turn it into a series. The story will be told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925.

Warnings: language, weapons, injury, animal death, mention of gypsy curses (as mentioned on the show)

Part 1

1924

Guests filled the chairs inside the Grace Shelby Institute as you continued to walk with Charles, showing him a picture of his late mother. You stopped in front of the framed portrait and the multitude of fragrant blooms all around it, wondering if the boy would have any memory of her. Your heart ached for him as you felt his chubby hands come to rest around your neck. Breathing deeply, you savored the weight of him in your arms and hugged him to your chest tightly. The guilt of being alive to receive this little boy’s affection when his mother’s life was cut short gnawed at you. It shouldn’t be me here now with Charles you thought. It shouldn’t be me comforting him or Tommy.

“I’m sure that little whore can’t wait to become the new Mrs. Shelby,” Linda said in a harsh whisper, though it was loud enough for anyone to hear.

“For fuck’s sake Linda, you know how long she’s been with the family. Tommy would never feel that way about her. She takes care of Charlie like her own child so there’s no reason for such cruelty toward her,” Ada bit back in your defense.

“Exactly, she’s coveting what isn’t hers,” Linda said piously.

The two women were unaware of your presence as you walked the floor behind their chairs with Charles and the words you’d overheard stung painfully. You’d worked hard over the years to gain the trust of the Shelby family and you never felt you were done proving yourself. At times like these you wondered if you would always be an outsider.

——————————————————

1919

The sunlight streamed through the threadbare curtains, waking you to sudden confusion when you realized you weren’t in your vardo. As you searched the cracked ceiling above your head, you heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and jerked the covers to your chin as your heart began to race. When the muffled voices of the Shelby brothers faded down the hall, you heard a rapping on your door and Polly’s voice came to you softly through the keyhole. “Y/n, are you awake?”

“Just a moment,” you replied, forcing your heavy legs over the side of the bed and placing your feet onto the cold floorboards. Your limbs ached from lack of sleep as you pushed yourself toward the basin and splashed water onto your face, still puffy from the evening of crying into your pillow. Slowly you opened the creaky bedroom door and peered around the door.

Polly stood waiting with a kind expression. “Good morning, ready to meet the children?”

You stood looking down at your feet, tears collecting in your eyes. You felt exhausted and overwhelmed so you froze, unsure how to respond. Polly noted your distress instantly and clasped her hands over yours saying, “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

“No, don’t go,” you said, looking up at her. The last thing you wanted was to be alone.

“Alright. Would you like to come downstairs for some tea?” she offered. You peeked over her shoulder and as if she could read your mind she assured you, “The boys have gone. The betting shop opens soon.” You gave her a grateful smile in return and followed her to the kitchen where she offered you a chair while she put the kettle on. You sat watching her as she told you about John’s four children-Katie, eight, William, six, Clara, five, and Henry, two. She explained that his wife Martha had died giving birth to their youngest while he was away during the war. “It’s been difficult for him to raise them on his own. He came back a changed man.” Thinking for a moment she added, “Well, perhaps not so much as Tommy, but still, he hasn’t a clue about those children,” she laughed.

“What happened to Tommy?” you asked, curious to know more about the mysterious man who refused to marry you.

“He does what he does for us you know, but sometimes I wonder if he weren’t meant for a different life. He wanted to work with horses before the war. Now I don’t even recognize him,” she said as she stared out the window, lost in thought.

You held your hands firmly around the porcelain teacup, but all the warmth had drained away with the liquid. As you stared into the bottom, you cocked your head, noticing the patterns of your tea leaves. You gulped at the outline of a beast, a clear warning to you.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Polly asked, noticing you’d gone white as a sheet.

You only nodded in reply, taking the cup away from her to wash out the contents.

“Don’t be nervous about meeting John’s kids. All they need is a firm hand and love,” she said mistaking your fear for nerves.

———————————————

The sight that greeted you at John’s house was worse than you had anticipated. You had some difficulty pushing past the front door as several pairs of tiny shoes and an extra pair of John’s boots littered the front hall. As you ventured inside, you froze at the sound of a commotion in the kitchen, only exploring further when you heard the shrieks of children’s laughter. When you looked beyond the doorframe, you took in the sight of a tow-headed girl and boy around the same age, standing on chairs, pulling items from the cupboards with obvious delight. Flour had covered every inch of the floor and honey was oozing off the counter between their little fingers.

When they spotted you, they turned and the little girl said, “Oh, hello. We were pretending to be naughty bear cubs. Have you come to be our mama bear?”

Your mouth hung open a moment as your surveyed the mess. Then you replied, “Well, erm…not exactly. I have come to look after you though and right now it looks as though you need a bath.”

“I don’t want a bath!” the little boy protested. Just then Polly entered the room and gasped as she saw the mess in front of her. “William and Clara Shelby! What the bloody hell!”

“It’s alright Aunt Polly. I’ll help clean it up before Daddy sees,” Clara said climbing down from her perch to give Polly a hug. Polly intercepted her before she could smear honey over her dress and you turned to gather the child in your arms.

“I happen to know that your Uncle Tommy has a new horse in his stable. If you’re very good, I could take you to see her,” you said, attempting a bribe. The children nodded vigorously in agreement before leading you up the rickety staircase. You sidestepped toys as you went, looking for the other two children.

When you reached the landing, you were startled by the presence of an older girl in one of the bedrooms who was already dressed, combing her hair methodically. Despite her tidy appearance, the room didn’t look much better than downstairs as the floor was strewn with dirty clothes and a layer of dust which covered every surface around her.

“Katie, this is Y/n,” Polly said introducing you. “She’ll be looking after you while your dad is at work.”

Katie pursed her lips together in a thin line, looking you up and down. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and addressed Polly with a sniff, “Why should I learn her name? She’s just another one of Daddy’s whores. She’ll be gone tomorrow and you know it Aunt Polly.”

You gasped at her directness and the hostility of her words. For a young child, she was quite blunt. Then you reminded yourself of everything she must have been through with the death of her mother. However, Polly wouldn’t stand for such insolence. She stepped forward landing a harsh slap across the girl’s face. “You won’t dare speak that way again in my presence, do you understand, Katie?”

The girl’s lip trembled for a moment, but she didn’t cry. Without looking up, she replied, “Yes, Aunt Polly.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably before saying, “Where’s the baby?”

Katie pointed down the hall and you thanked her walking away swiftly. Rounding the corner, you smiled at the sight of a toddler asleep in his cot. Somehow he had slept through the earlier commotion. He had a head full of blonde curls and his lips were full like John’s. He looked like a tiny angel as he slept. Taking a moment to rub his back, you wondered how you were going to handle four children who needed so much from you. You didn’t have time to stand idly much longer as a fight broke out between William and Clara down the hall and you dashed away to break them apart.

--------------------------------------------

With considerable effort, you readied the four children for an outing to the stables and Polly walked with you. She assured you a kind man by the name of Curly would be there to watch over the horse. He was half horse himself, she joked and that made you feel better about how the mare was being treated.

Everyone was in high spirits as they discussed where the horse came from and you tried to describe the camp where you’d lived before arriving in Small Heath. When the children asked about the horse’s name, you gave the Romani name and they laughed at the unfamiliar sound. It was then you realized they must not be familiar with the language.

When you arrived, you were surprised to see Tommy there. You greeted him, explaining you had brought the children as a treat and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprisingly kind to his nieces and nephews, allowing them a turn to sit upon the horse and take a short ride. You smiled at the sight of him teaching them to ride, even little Henry.

As you helped the last child dismount, he asked, “Is she always this steady around people?”

“Yes, mares spook less easily, but she’s always been this way. What do you intend to do with her?” you asked, filled with curiosity at his intentions.

“A good horse like this?” he displayed a wide grin. “You know my business, love. I intend to race this beauty,” he said patting her flank.

Your face dropped slightly. “I see.”

“You don’t approve?” he asked noticing your hesitancy.

“I didn’t say that,” you added quickly.

“But you were thinking it,” he said, searching your eyes for meaning. Then one of the children ran up to you, tugging at your skirts.

“Y/n, I’m hungry!” William cried.

“Alright, back home, then,” you said with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

———————————————————

The next evening you returned from John’s house exhausted from a day of cleaning and wrangling children. You were soaked to the skin from walking home in the rain, but you couldn’t have cared less. Collapsing into a chair, Polly brought you a cup of tea by the fire to warm you.

“Were they any better today?” Polly she asked, looking at you for a genuine report.

“A bit, yes,” you replied as you attempted to ring water from your hair.

“I know it might be slow going, but they’ll come round,” Polly said as she went back to her sewing.

“I’m not worried. I like them,” you assured her with a smile, thinking of how their antics reminded you of your sisters at their age. “I grew up without a mother and I think all children should be loved and cared for by someone,” you said earnestly.

Polly looked at you and nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I think you’re going to be very good for this family,” she proclaimed to herself and your heart filled with pride at her statement.

Before you could reply, someone began pounding on the door urgently. You and Polly startled at the sound and before she could make it to the door, Tommy rushed forth, finding Curly at the doorstep.

“Tom! Tom, you best come quick! Come!,” Curly said, his words coming at such a rapid pace, the lantern that hung from his hand swung wildly with the force.

“Is it the horse?” Tommy asked, grabbing his coat from the hook. Curly nodded emphatically.

Your breath caught in your chest at the news that something might be wrong with the beautiful mare you’d brought from camp and you stood up announcing, “I’m coming as well.” Without a thought for the bad weather, you ran out the door, trying to keep pace with Tommy and Curly as you ducked your head to avoid the driving rain.

When you reached the stable, the mare you loved so much was holding one foot off the ground in obvious pain. “Tell me what’s wrong with the horse, Curly,” Tommy asked in a calm, even tone as he assessed the situation.

Curly placed a gentle kiss to her nose and stepped aside, mumbling, “It’s a curse, Tom. Someone put a bad seed in the hoof. They put a spell!” You watched quietly from the shadows as Tommy placed his hands on either side of the man’s face to steady him, hushing him gently.

Uncle Charlie stood next to the mare, observing her reverently. You could tell by his grim expression there would be no saving her and his words confirmed it. “Whatever it is, it spread to the other feet,” he said, gesturing toward the horse’s large hooves.

Curly broke free from Tommy’s grasp, shaking his head. “It’s going to her heart by tomorrow, I’d say. I’ve seen curses like this twice. Can’t take them back,” he said in an agitated voice, raising a finger in the air as he rocked back and forth.

When Uncle Charlie spotted you, his face drew back in a snarl. “I told you, Tommy, didn’t I? Warned you against black blood gypsies.” He huffed out a breath through flared nostrils as he clenched his fist by his side. Tommy turned as though noticing you for the first time when Charlie called out, “Come on, Curly, let’s get out of ‘ere.” He pushed past you into the rain and you swallowed thickly at the hatred he felt for you and your kin.

As you watched them disappear into the night, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding and your eyes drifted toward your horse, now Tommy’s horse. You felt small and helpless, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. Coming to her side, you stroked the mare gently, laying your head against the velvety soft fur of her neck.

“Did you do this for revenge? Tell me the truth,” Tommy asked in Romani, voice tight with emotion, rain water dripping off his hair and into his long eyelashes.

“Is that what you think?” you breathed out in a whisper, looking up at him with a look of hurt and confusion.

Without another word, Tommy pulled his pistol from his jacket pocket and you shrunk away from him, feeling your heart pound in your chest, hands tingling and head feeling dizzy from adrenaline. You wondered if it wasn’t just Uncle Charlie who despised you. Did Tommy hold the same hatred? His distant stare chilled you and suddenly you were sure he was going to kill you as you thought of Polly’s words. Two days ago she had told you, “Now I don’t even recognize him.” Was he really so unpredictable? You’d seen him turn violent quickly so you knew it must be true. You closed your eyes, praying he’d dispatch you quickly.

You heard the gunshot, a deafening blast so close to you, it felt as though it had pierced your chest. However, when you pried your eyes open, you saw the horse fall onto its side with a sickening thud. You watched in horror as she died before you, the life draining from her eyes as wretched sounds were released from her body. Doubling over in silent sobs, you clasped a hand over your mouth. You wanted to look away, to believe it was a nightmare and this had never happened. Then Tommy’s voice cut through the fog and the ringing in your ears.

“Get out,” he said in a voice hovering over a whisper. You shivered involuntarily as you turned to watch him raise his gun a second time, but he only swiped his arm across his mouth. You noticed his breathing was irregular, chest heaving as though he might break down himself. He looked up at you with wild eyes, “I said, go. Get back to me brother’s house now!” You watched his hand tremble slightly and you imagined him burying you next to the beautiful horse. With that, you ran as fast as your legs would carry you. You slipped in the thick, black mud several times, falling on hard stone slicing your knees open as the cold rain pelted your face and arms, but somehow you couldn’t feel anything at all.

Cont. reading Part 3

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you

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slutforelliealways · 17 days

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What if? Pt:2

Elliexfemme reader

"What happened after the album drop?" Charlie reaches for his coffee cup. "Assuming something happened of course." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"I don't understand," you giggled, "how do you forget how to walk?"

Ellie took another sip, you'd both finished the champagne and moved to rum straight from the bottle. "Trust me, you mix enough shit in one night you'd forget more than how to walk."

"I don't think I've ever mixed alcohol and drugs before, and I know I haven't done any hard stuff." You snagged the bottle out of her hand, "I almost can't believe you have either."

The right side of her mouth curled up and formed a smirk. "You'll learn kid."

"I hope not," you took another swig.

"I'm sensing some foreshadowing," Charlie scribbles.

"What an astute observation."

"You're into me right? I'm not just making that up?" You passed the bottle to Ellie.

She put the bottle down on the nightstand and scooted in closer, you didn't budge; rather anticipated her next move, and as you just began to imagine the idea of her touching you, her lips met yours. You gasped into the kiss and pulled her closer into you, her hand moved underneath your shirt and cupped your--

"I get it! You had sex!" Charlie throws his hand up to pause you in your daydreaming state.

"Just shut up for a moment and listen."

You had Ellie right where you wanted her. Unclothed, in your bed, and eyes sparkling at the sight of you. You were on your knees on the foot of the bed admiring the astonishing woman in front of you, her hair was messy and some strands were poking out the sides, her skin glistened with little beads of sweat on her freckled forehead, she looked so peaceful in this moment.

"You're so beautiful," she reached out and wrapped her arm around your waist, "I can't believe I finally got you." She kissed slowly on your face, her fingers drew little circles around your bare skin. You placed your hand on her cheek and she nuzzled into it.

"You're drunk," you smiled.

She looked at you through hazed eyes, "maybe a little." She chuckled.

"You gonna regret this tomorrow morning?" You sat up and grabbed the bottle, "should I prepare for an awkward tour?"

"Why would I regret this?" She sat up and rested her chin on her knees. "You damaged or something?"

"Excuse me!" You pulled away.

"I just feel like only someone with damage would say something like that," Ellie reached for the bottle in your hand.

"I am not damaged! You seem to be the damaged one Miss Williams, mixing your pills and liquor."

She took a big swig from the bottle and then passed it to you, as you reached for it she grabbed your wrist with her other hand and pulled you on top of her. "I'm just a star baby. You know it's all about sex, drugs, and rock n roll!"

Charlie stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he walks over to his desk and begins rummaging through a drawer. "My pen went out, I need another one."

"Oh," you chuckle, "so how's the husband?"

"He's good, being a stay at home dad has really been keeping him happy."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that."

"Okay," Charlie sits back down, "let's get back to it then. What happened the next morning?"

Ellie had left your room early, Joel called her with something important. She'd given you a peck on the lips and slid out the door within seconds of hearing Joel's voice on the other line, you had rolled back over and fallen asleep. When you woke up on your own it was to your phone buzzing relentlessly on your nightstand, you shot up and answered the call.

"You're late." Dina's voice was harsher than usual.

"Fuck I'm sorry!" You threw your red knee-length leather coat on and rushed to the elevator.

Everyone stared at you as you walked in the studio, Dina stared the hardest as you put your bag down on the ground and got onto your chair.

"Bout time you showed up," Di hissed. "We were worried you'd miss meeting the new member.

"New member?" You turned to Ellie who was staring at the door you'd just come in through.

An incredibly tall and built blonde woman came strolling in carrying a huge instrument case. From the shape of it you had to assume it was a cello. She set the case down and walked straight up to you, grabbed your hand, and planted a kiss on the top of it. "Abby. Pleased to meet you, your name was?"

"We call her little one," Jesse threw his arm around your shoulder, "I'm Jesse, that's Dina, and this is Ellie."

Dina stayed sat by her drums and just gave Abby a nod.

Ellie glared, she didn't even shake Abby's hand when she held it out. Jesse took Abby and showed her where to set up, you poked Ellie's arm. "What's up with that? We already dropped an album and set up tour dates."

Ellie's reply was standing up and storming into Joel's office, the door slammed shut behind her, you and the band sat and listened to the two screaming at each other for only twenty minutes before the others grew restless.

"Should we just go on without them?" Jesse picked his bass, "doesn't sound like that's going to end soon."

The door to Joel's office swung open on cue and Ellie came rushing out, "go home no fucking rehearsal today."

"I don't understand, bands add members all the time."

"Ellie and Abby started out playing together and for a while it was just the two of them, some fallout happened and ever since they never really got along. But Joel didn't care about that."

"Why not?" Charlie looks up from his notebook.

"Joel wanted money, anything else wasn't important enough for him to care."

You ran outside after Ellie, "what the fuck was that all about?"

"None of your business!" She snapped, "leave me alone."

"I didn't do anything, what the hell we were just cool a couple hours ago! You said it wouldn't be awkward now you're just gonna shut me out?"

"We fucked once, I might be one of few to you; to me you're one of hundreds! So back off." Her words tore into you like glass shards.

You stopped in place and watched Ellie turn back around and walk away. You grimaced to her back and stuck your tongue out, "meanie," you whispered.

You went back inside to find the other three chatting away, Abby had Jesse and Di laughing their asses off. "What's this?" You crossed your arms.

"We were just getting filled in on Abby's shenanigans while she was on tour with the thrashers." Jesse was recovering from a belly laugh.

"Oh?" You were intrigued. "And what did Abby do?"

"You'll have to have dinner with me to find out," she smirked.

"I'll pass." You strode out the door and walked back to your hotel.

"Oh please tell me Ellie was there waiting for you."

You saw Ellie's car, but when you got to your room it was as empty as you left it. You sighed and put your things down, poured yourself a drink and waited for a knock on your door. By the time you finished the bottle of gin you figured no one was coming, and you retired yourself to bed.

"Disappointing."

The band spent weeks rehearsing and getting ready for tour. Ellie and you barely spoke more than two words to each other on a daily basis. It was as if Abby had come in and erased anything that happened before, like you never existed in the first place. She did exactly what she swore wouldn't happen, she was a liar.

You grew closer to Abby, you'd stay late working on music with her when the rest of the band had left for the day. You had made it clear from the beginning that you weren't interested, but you couldn't help the lingering longing for her when she wasn't around. At first you didn't think much of it, you were used to feeling alone and wanting company.

"You didn't," Charlie leans forward in his seat. His eyes wider than ever.

"I did," your spine tingles. "And I paid for it."

Tour was nearing, you'd all gotten the locations for your venues and to your surprise the places were ginormous. "These are our stages?"

"Problem?" Joel snapped.

Your eyes were wide and glistening. "Why would I ever have a problem with these? Joel this is fucking awesome!"

"I thought so," the old man chuckled.

Abby came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, you caught Ellie's gaze and shied away from the public affections you'd grown nearly comfortable with behind closed doors. "Not here," you hissed.

Ellie gave a little smirk as she walked out of the rehearsal room. It was enough for you to feel good about your decision to snap at Abby.

However, your secret lover was not so fond of the miniscule interaction. "What the fuck was that about?" Abby pushed her hair back, "you embarrassed of me or something?"

You cringed a little inside. "No, I just don't need everyone in the band knowing we hangout more than them."

"Honey," she caressed your cheek, "I think we do a bit more than hanging out no?"

Your cheeks felt flushed and the very air around you seemed thinner than ever.

"I'm confused," Charlie looks up from his notes, "you'd been hiding this affair from the entire group? How?"

You smirk, "same way I'd hidden my feelings for Ellie from Abby. I'm very secretive."

Loading up the buses for tour was less than an ideal disaster. Ellie had gotten there early and begun her stomping and bossing anyone within a ten foot radius around. When you arrived in your cab it was like the wind stopped blowing, and it was just the two of you in front of a bus with your faces on it. You stared at her, and she at you. For a moment you felt as though you could reach out for her and she'd meet your hands and close up the gap in between the two of you. You waved, a shy little wave that was barely noticeable.

"You need a hand with that?" Ellie approached you slowly, "seems like you packed a bit too much no?" She chuckled.

You nodded, afraid that if you spoke she'd run away.

"I got it," Abby grabbed your things and threw them over her shoulder, "wouldn't want you hurting your back Williams."

And just like that the moment between you and Ellie was done. Abby had gotten in between you within two seconds. You kept your gaze on Ellie, she kept hers on yours. Then she leaned in and you felt her breath tickle your ear. Suddenly you were thrown over her shoulder, your giggles echoing in the barren air. "What are you doing?" You shrieked.

"Abby missed some of your luggage, figured I'd grab the lighter stuff." Her hand slapped your ass, "I'm done playing this game with you little one. You're mine."

It'd been months since Ellie had said more than three words to you, and now she was claiming you? This wasn't something you had prepared yourself to deal with today, especially right before your first show of the tour.

"I'm sorry, she claimed you?"

You chuckle, "she claimed us. Which only complicated the plan I'd set for tour."

"What about Abby?"

"What about her? I hadn't said yes to the dress or anything, all we'd been doing was hanging out."

Abby sat at the front of the bus, sort of a protest against the bullshit she'd found herself walking in on when she got inside the vehicle you'd all be living in for the next six months. Dina and Jesse arrived together, in an attempt to act as if they'd taken separate rides they walked on the bus apart, but sat together in the back along with you and your somewhat lover.

"What's this?" Dina pointed at Ellie and you. "You going for the whole band or something, little one?"

"Must you always be such an asshole Di?" Ellie sat up and her arm that was wrapped around your shoulder fell beside you. "Should I point out your mess too or would that shatter your fragile ego too much?"

Di scoffed and turned around in her seat, Jesse smiled at the two of you. "For the record I always knew you'd get together eventually."

You sat in front of the mirror backstage and waited for the opener to be done, your blush was perfect and there wasn't a hair in sight that wasn't laid perfectly. As you stared at your reflection you noticed Ellie behind you staring as well. "You look fucking beautiful." She breathed.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you smirked.

She got out of her chair and swayed over to you, wrapped her arms around your shoulders and planted a kiss right on your perfectly blushed cheek. "You ready for this?"

"I was born ready."

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I apologize for the lateness of this but I hope you enjoy it, there's a lot of different ways I see this story going but I'd love some feedback as to where you want it leading. Love ya, hope you're doing well! :)

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #abby anderson #abby x reader #tlou

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recoveringdreamer · 2 months

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TIMING: current LOCATION: felix's boiler room PARTIES: @zombiebabysitter, @gossipsnake, @ariadnewhitlock, @notstinky, & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: a group of rhyming allies come together to break a curse. CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions and discussion of snakes eating

The rhyming had become… almost fun, if Felix was being entirely honest with themself. There was something kind of entertaining about it, even if it was technically a curse. It didn’t seem to be hurting anything and, as a bonus, it seemed to annoy Leo enough that he’d been avoiding conversation with them. If it were only Felix cursed, they might have just… let it continue for a while. But they were pretty sure some of their friends were getting tired of it, and it didn’t seem fair to subject all of them to a life of rhyming just because Felix didn’t mind it.

So, they’d called together a strategy session. A few of the people who were cursed — and no one who wasn’t. The last thing they wanted was to spread this thing even further, so it seemed way safer to only include people already involved. It wasn’t like someone could be cursed twice, right?

The boiler room was a little cramped, not really meant to house this many people at once, but that was okay. They wouldn’t be in here long, hopefully. Felix had set the glass orange in the center of the room, like they all might need a reminder about why they were gathered here today. He squinted at it suspiciously from where he sat on the single office chair, elbows on his knees and hands folded and propping up their chin.

“We need a plan of action,” Felix announced. “So far, nothing we’ve tried has had any real reaction. It can’t be broken. And once you’ve touched it, rhymes must be spoken. But every curse has to have an out. I think we all know that without a doubt. So, what should we do? I want to hear from all of you.”

—

As far as Charlie was concerned, rhyming kinda fucking rocked. He had been a lyric-writing machine as of late, speaking the words aloud and then writing them on paper if they sounded good. Yeah, Finn was annoyed any time Charlie opened his mouth to speak to him, seeing as how everything that came out of his mouth was a fucking rhyme, but that wasn’t his fault. How was he supposed to know that ugly as sin Faberge egg was cursed with a rhyme scheme curse?

So that’s how he’d ended up in Felix’s boiler room apartment after a shift at the pit, tired and a little out of sorts. Charlie looked around at the others in the room, then let out a sigh. “Well as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing that we’ve learned. We’re stuck in a rhyme which is, as far as I’m concerned? A total fucking crime. But also, I’ve been writing a lot and I feel kinda like a robot. So I can go either way, I write music by day.” He shrugged his shoulders.

As far as Charlie was concerned, this was a gift. He was able to write his music and not have to wrack his brain for rhyme schemes when he was cursed to do it automatically. It was great! He’d written so many songs in such a short amount of time that he was allotting himself a break after all this was cleared up.

Thea had found a nice patch of damp for herself, tucked against the wall of Felix’s possibly still rat-infested boiler room. For hundreds of years, humans had been rhyming (probably, Thea had done no real research regarding the topic). But the couplet itself dates back to like, the medieval era, right? (She really should’ve googled) Regardless, Thea felt connected to her poetry slinging ancestors in that she was certain she had poetry slinging ancestors. Really, could anyone confirm that she wasn’t related to William Shakespeare? The rhymes said otherwise. There was a history of art she was connected to; a history of verse and meter and kids teasing each other on the playground rhyming ‘fart’ with ‘smart’. It was all really normal, when she thought about it.

Still, her ability to hold conversations was severely impaired and that ability was struggling before the rhyming. “What if the answer is a visual enhancer? Perhaps the answer is…more advancer than basic thinking?” Thea had been testing the bounds of the rhymes; as long as they existed—slant, couplet, alternate, ballade, enclosed, triplet, limerick, villanelle—the form didn’t matter. ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’ was as valid to her tongue as ‘I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again (I think I made you up inside my head)’. She wasn’t surprised that this had led to creativity for Charlie. “I’m pinking.” Thea brought her cold hands to her hot face; it was hard to say what she was about to but the truth was clear to her.

“I-It might be that state of head clear, so-called.” Thea gestured to her hair (which was growing in nicely!). “That state of bald to which I was once appalled; in case any here recalled. That is to say, to our problem enthralled, perhaps we all must go bald?”

—

The English language was complex and often confusing as a non-native speaker; and that was without being cursed to rhyme anytime one opened their mouth. Of course, as Anita had learned, the rhyming wasn’t limited to speaking in English. Spanish was a much more beautiful language and lent itself better to forced rhyming in her opinion. But in this strange grouping of Felix’s friends, Spanish was not a realistic option. Despite her usual propensity to yap she had resigned to being slightly more silent to try and avoid having to rhyme. Being forced to do anything, even something as simple as rhyming, was not something she had interest in. It had grown old and at least in silence Anita felt like she was in control.

Both people who had spoken so far seemed strange and Anita didn’t know them much at all. When the one sitting against the wall suggested they all go bald, Anita’s face scrunched into a disgusted frown as her eyes rolled to the side in the direction of the woman. “No, we are not entertaining that for one moment; and I surely hope I am not that suggestion’s only opponent.”

Moving somewhat suddenly from where she was standing near Felix, Anita picked up the orange egg from the table and threw it against a wall on the other side of the small boiler room with all her strength. It, of course, didn’t break. They’d tried that many times before. She sighed, walked over to pick it up in defeat and then placed it back in the center of the room where it had been. “It doesn’t break. And nothing happens when you feed it to a very large snake. I don’t know much about curses and I’m sure there are some exceptions, but the ones I do know of can last for generations.”

—

Rhyming wasn’t the worst, but Ariadne had never been a big fan of Dr. Seuss. That was too much, and she preferred an occasional rhyme rather than constant ones. Which was probably rude to say and think, but she couldn’t help it. At least rhyming didn’t seen to cause her or anybody around her any actual harm. That would’ve been too much, and wouldn’t have been something that she could so easily deal with. Some of the nightmares she’d had to cause even wound up rhyming, which was a bit of a headache and had made for some less effective nightmares – something she’d have normally been thrilled about, because less effective meant less harm, but it also meant she wasn’t as quickly satiated, which meant she had to do more, which ended up meaning more harm.

But right now she was here to help Felix. Not to make things about herself and have some sort of a pity party about all of it.

“You’ve all got good thoughts.” Ariadne began. “I guess we’ve just gotta figure out how to connect the dots.” She winched. “I’d rather not go bald, if it’s all the same to you. I bet there’s something else that we can do!”

—

Okay, so some of the suggestions so far weren’t the best. Felix wasn’t really sure how going bald would help anything, and they rubbed a hand absently over their hair at the thought. Their mother used to shave their hair in the summers, but it had never looked quite right. Their brother always insisted it was because they had a lumpy head. Felix wasn’t sure if that was true. They hoped it wasn’t. “I’m not sure going bald is the best solution,” they said hesitantly, flashing Thea an apologetic smile. “I’m sure, between all of us, we can find another resolution!”

But, of course, throwing the orange wasn’t helping much, either. Felix winced as it hit the wall uselessly, falling back onto the ground without breaking the same way it always did. They weren’t even sure if breaking it would actually lift the curse. For all any of them knew, that would make things permanent. “We can’t afford to be pessimistic! How many of those generational curses are linguistic? I know we can find a good way out. There are some really smart people here, so I have no doubt. We know trying to break it won’t work. If we keep trying the same thing, we’ll all end up going beserk. Let’s try to think of things we haven’t done yet! I’ll start up a list so we don’t forget.” They pulled out their phone, typing in the notes app. Breaking the orange was at the top of the does not work list. They added a last resort list and typed bald beneath the heading. “Has anyone tried anything on their own? Let me know so I can put it into my phone!”

—

There was a brief moment that Charlie considered the bald thing, a hand shooting up to his hair, and then thought better of it. “I’d rather rhyme forever than be bald.” He decided, pulling a face. He fell silent for a long moment, wracking his brain for ideas of how to be free of the curse. Sure, it was useful to get songwriting done, but it was a nightmare when trying to have a serious conversation with someone and you’re acting like fucking Dr. Seuss.

He frowned at the mention of generational curses and large snakes, looking at Anita a little funny before shaking his head and going back to the task at hand. Breaking the curse. “What happens if we dull its shine?” He asked, staring at the tacky object. “Surely if we find a way to tarnish it, we’ll all be fine.” Charlie scratched at his head, unsure if that was a solution to anything or just a way to take his frustrations out on the orange.

Had he tried something on his own to break the curse? He thought about it for a minute, looking over to Felix’s phone. “I tried rhyming all the words I could think of that would rhyme with red. Took a while, but… it didn’t work and I was filled with dread.”

Having an idea rejected was not a good feeling; having it rejected in rhyme was somehow worse. Thea slumped against her moldy pitch of wall. Yes, she’d also rather rhyme forever than be bald and yet, she couldn’t stop thinking that ever since her hair started coming back, her life was weird. Mostly that was because of the strange hair serum she insisted on but what if it was because she angered some baldness god by not respecting the bald? What if this curse was yet another warning from the bald man above? Thea sighed; probably not. Wait… Thea shot up, waving her arm in the air as though this were a classroom, but spoke despite anyone calling on her. She pointed to the older, very attractive woman. “Snickity snackity make, what’s this about a snake?” Thea leaned back again. “We’ve gone through it, if a snake can’t do it, maybe we quit?” But Felix was trying so hard, and no one wanted to rhyme, or be bald.

“Yes.” Thea shrugged at Charlie’s red rhyming plight. “What a mess. Technically everything rhymes. I don’t have lactose digesting enzymes.” Thea shook her head. “No, what I mean to say—not to play—is that rhymes slant, are still rhymes you can grant. Words imaginary are not a rhyming scary. It is true, though it makes me blue, that the English language has…” She paused. “Words known as…” She paused again. “Unrhymable.” She sighed. “I thought I was able…to break rhyme with these words fabled…instead I became unstable.” Thea lifted a finger up. “Listen: purple. What rhymes with purple? Purple rhymes with purple. Circle is not a perfect rhyme for purple. Jimminy jemminy nurple, I still rhyme with purple.” Thea hugged herself, trying to soothe the pain of purple rhyming. “My point is that rhymes imperfect, are still rhymes you can perfect. And so what does it matter? What’s the point of all this chatter? For a curse that will never shatter?”

—

Anita didn’t care for being pointed at, but she did grin softly at the suggestion that if a snake couldn’t solve this that it was perhaps unsolvable. A sentiment she, as the snake in question, wanted to agree with but also one she knew had to be untrue - because she knew that there had to be a way to stop this awful rhyming even if she wasn’t the one who was able to figure it out. “Why are you both trying to rhyme colors? Red, purple … and all the others. You seem to be making this harder on yourselves than this all needs to be. Don’t you see? You don’t need to be Shakeperian with the words that you say. They just need to rhyme at the end of the day. It is harder in English that is no doubt, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a solution we can’t scout out.”

It wasn’t something that she would admit aloud, but there was part of Anita that wondered if this was a permanent curse. Her ability to transform into a snake, the gift of the lamia, was technically a curse. An unbreakable one that traveled through a family for generations. She didn’t really want to have a second curse upon her forcing her to rhyme until the end of time. “Maybe if we source this orange back to its origin we’ll find a solution before we become permanent jesters. Preferably before the start of the new semester. It’s one thing to have to rhyme, but I don’t wish to feel like the lorax trying to find words that rhyme with antenna, glands, and thorax.”

Ariadne did her best to stay mostly silent. All the rhyming was giving her more than a bit of a headache, and she wasn’t always great with words to start, so suddenly rhyming perfectly was a bit unsettling. Which, again, was maybe a rude way of looking at things, but she couldn’t quite help herself. It was important to try and think of ideas though, and she scrunched her face up, trying to think of more ideas – Thea and Felix and Anita and the dude called Charlie were all having really interesting ideas, and she wanted to do her best to at least try and contribute something.

“Maybe if we ask it to stop? I don’t know if that idea’s a flop.” But it couldn’t hurt to suggest. Ariadne was always down to ask people, animals, or – objects, in this case, to do their very best. Give them the choice, even though she wasn’t sure if this orange had a thought process – conscious – but if she could come back from the dead then maybe decorative oranges could think for themselves.

“Thankfully if I have to rhyme when I do ballet – I shouldn’t have to think all day.” Ariadne nodded, “Plié rhymes at least mostly with chassé, and so on.” So that much was a relief, that she wouldn’t sound too weird during class. Though she was sure that some way would come about to make things sound weirder than they should’ve. “Uh, we could also leave it be? Go away and come back and maybe offer another plea?”

—

This really was a mess, wasn’t it? Everyone was going back and forth about their experiences, and Felix’s feelings towards the curse were souring the more they realized that their friends were probably having less fun than they were. Charlie was full of dread, Thea was rambling about unrhymable words and baldness, Anita had classes to teach, Ariadne had ballet… but that was why they were all here, weren’t they? If they banded together, they’d surely find a way to break the curse.

Glancing up at Ariadne, they offered a small smile. “Talking to it was one of the first things I tried,” they admitted. “I asked it to let us stop rhyming, but it never replied.” They’d tried that tactic for longer than they’d like to admit, in various different ways. Begging, pleading, making empty promises to the reflective glass… nothing had really done what they were hoping for. “I’m not sure making it dirty would do much, either. It’d probably work as well as breaking it, and we tried that for so long that I had to stop to take a breather!” Breaking it seemed mean, anyway, and Felix didn’t want to be mean. They squinted at the egg, inspecting it carefully.

“Maybe it wants us to make a specific kind of rhyme,” they suggested. “Something to do with the thing itself this time? There could be some kind of secret password. Or maybe something we need to try to say backwards? Or it could just have to do with the egg. Or maybe we have to take it to the leg!” Could the leg be related? Leg did rhyme with egg, didn’t it? Except… “I guess it doesn’t look much like an egg, when you really look at it. The shape isn’t quite right, so the word doesn’t really fit.” They turned it over in their hands with a sigh. “I guess… it’s really more of an orange. I didn’t even know they sold glass oranges, but apparently they do. Isn’t that weird to think about?” They were rambling now… and unaware that those rambles no longer rhymed. Still turning the egg over, still perplexed, and just as clueless as always.

—

There were a lot of ideas being thrown around, and Charlie wasn’t sure which one would make sense. Well, the orange egg thing wasn’t lonely, so appeasing it seemed to be out. Rhyming words with difficult words to rhyme made sense. He was so lost in thought that he tuned out most of what was going on, only coming to when Felix began speaking again, going on and on about different rhymes.

Charlie stared at Felix as he rambled on, noticing that his words slipped from rhyme to just regular speech. “Wait.” Charlie pointed at Felix, shaking his head. “Nothing rhymes with Orange! Which means…” He paused a moment. “Felix, you fucking genius!” Charlie surged forward and shook his friend by the shoulders, grinning brightly. “That’s it, nothing rhymes with orange! We’re fucking free!” He placed his hands on either side of Felix’s face and nodding his head excitedly before letting go and doing a little dance now that he wasn’t stuck rhyming everything. Now Finn wouldn’t be reduced to murdering him for his rhymes! Amazing!

“No, technically things do rhyme with orange.” Thea said quickly, ignoring the more celebratory aspect of Charlie’s words. “There just aren’t perfect rhymes. But what’s a perfect rhyme even mean? What does it—I mean—what I was saying was…” Thea paused, staring at the group. She wasn’t rhyming. Felix wasn’t rhyming. Charlie wasn’t rhyming. Their problem was solved! And yet, watching Charlie celebrate made her feel decidedly empty. “I guess we’re free?” Her words were back to being bland; her cadence was clumsy again. She was Thea. She frowned. What rhymed with free? “Uh, I guess we have knees? Uh, tree?” It wasn’t the same—she had to think about her words, she had to bear the ugly sound of her voice echoing in her ears. She was Thea, as she had been before all this. Rhyming wasn’t so bad, when the alternative was this. Thea forced herself to perk up. “Hey! Good job, Felix!”

Pushing herself off the ground, she swiped dirt off her legs. “Now, what do we do about the orange?” Thea pointed at it. “It is really nice, and I think it matches with the Garfield posters, but maybe we should, like, break it or something? Or put it in a case that says ‘don’t touch unless you want to rhyme’? Or, uh, something?” Thea winced at herself; she’d gotten used to the more eloquent rhyming.

—

For as much as Anita cared for Felix, she did not much care for this group of their friends and she cared even less for their ramblings and ideas regarding fixing this curse. Clearly there were no solutions down in this boiler room. Mentally planning a swift exit before things devolved into listening to the girl suggesting they go bald, Anita had not even noticed that people stopped rhyming until the excitable one burst across the room (not that it took much to burst across a room that size) and was exclaiming that they were free. She frowned, a bit annoyed that everyone was still talking about rhyming with colors. Hadn’t they gotten past this.

“Tons of words rhyme with orange in Spanish,” Anita muttered, mostly to herself and whomever else in the room spoke Spanish. “Naranja. Toronja. Corrija. Esponja. Puta.” As she listed of Spanish orange rhymes the realization of what the others were talking about settled in. Had the ridiculousness of the English language just saved them from this rhyming hell? Gross. She’d cogradulate Felix on the success later, maybe, it was their fault everyone was rhyming to begin with anyone. She certainly wasn’t going to do it in front of these strangers, though. “Did you not see what happened earlier? How do you expect to break this thing? No, no. This thing must be locked away in a box of some kind, taken to a remote location, and buried a minimum of 12 feet underground. And then the key must be destroyed.”

“Aw, well…” but it did make Ariadne smile that Felix had already tried her idea. They were really great, and the fact that they didn’t just immediately brush her idea off. Because there were plenty of people who might’ve done that. She wouldn’t judge any of them for brushing it off, because that was just how things worked, sometimes, and there wasn’t a reason to be judgmental about it right back to them. That wasn’t kind, and she wanted to be kind whenever she could.

“That’s – we’ll think of something, I know it. We’ll figure stuff out.” Except she did a double-take, listening to everyone else. They weren’t rhyming anymore. “I sort of like blue. It’s a nice color.” Ariadne shook her head. “Sorry, was – I just wanted to try it out, to see if I’d –” she smiled. “If there was still rhyming going on. “That’s true, orange is a tricky thing – word – to rhyme with.” She signed, but nodded to Thea’s idea, and Anita’s. “We could lock it up. Just to be safe?”

—

The rhyming curse was broken, it seemed, as easily as it had been cast in the first place. Touch an orange and rhyme. Speak the word ‘orange’ at the end of your sentence and free yourself. It didn’t make a lot of sense but, then, curses rarely did, did they? Felix felt a rush of… pride, maybe, as Charlie called them a genius, even though they’d had no idea what they were doing when they broke the curse. They hadn’t meant to free anyone any more than they’d meant to curse them in the first place, but maybe intentions didn’t mean much here. Maybe it was enough that they’d broken the curse at all.

There were other matters to attend to, anyway. Felix looked to the orange skeptically, shifting their weight uncertainly between their feet. If Anita wanted to bury it, maybe they could bury it. But… “I’m not sure I can dig a hole that’s 12 feet deep. Maybe we should just, um, chuck it into the ocean or something?” Did it still have its power? If they touched it again now, would the curse start anew? It was hard to say. “I can take care of it. Um, one way or another. I can make sure no one else gets cursed.”

—

Staring at the orange with a look of hesitation, Charlie frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should handle it with a pair of tongs, yeah?” He suggested, looking over to Felix with a raised brow. “I mean, can’t risk touching it again, you know?” He looked to Anita, nodding his head. “I definitely think the deeper the hole the better off we are, bury that shit away and hope no one digs it back up. The ocean is an idea too, throw it off the side of a boat Titanic style.” Charlie wiggled his brows, remembering the scene where she threw the necklace into the ocean.

“Just don’t get yourself cursed in the process of getting rid of it. Because if you curse yourself and then throw it into the ocean, you’re fucking screwed, you know?” Charlie decided it was important enough to point that out, god forbid that poor Felix be stuck rhyming for the rest of his life.

“What if the fish start rhyming?” Thea asked with complete and honest seriousness. “When you throw it into the ocean? I mean, and, you gotta think about—like…” She hated not rhyming. Everything sounded harsh and wrong. “…like, pollution. There’s a lot of garbage in the ocean already, it’s not nice to dump things in it.” She frowned; maybe none of them really cared about the environment. And yes the ocean was vast, but that thing totally looked like it would just float and then what? “It’s like, you know in Oops, I did it again? They have that whole part in the music video. Which, um, yeah—“ Thea gestured to Charlie. “Yeah, like Titanic. I know that’s not your point but people find things in the ocean eventually. Someone could find it.” The attractive woman was sure that it couldn’t be broken—even if Thea thought they just needed to try harder—and Thea couldn’t argue with an attractive person. It wasn’t much better to bury it either; there would be rhyming worms.

Thea shrugged; rhyming wasn’t the worst thing to her. “I trust you, Felix. Whatever you want to do with it, that’d be good.” She agreed more with Ariadne, and the idea of locking it up. “Even if it slightly contributes to the declining environmental state of our planet.” Felix was allowed a little climate crime, she thought. They were owed that.

—

“Oh my god!” Anita finally exclaimed, astonished and exhausted by all of the talking and discussion about what to do and how it might make the fish start rhyming. It was like the curse was lingering, trapping them into a cycle of hypotheticals and hesitations on how to destroy the stupid orange thing. She had given a perfect solution but its feasibility was questioned. Fine. But she was not going to sit around in this room any longer and have a philosophical discussion about how throwing the orange in the ocean may impact the environmental state of the planet.

Walking up to the egg again, Anita allowed her neck, jaw, and inner digestive tract to shift into the mojave rattlesnake. She did not know these people, and typically would not have exposed herself so obviously, but none of the questioned an orange figurine making the rhyme and they were all friends of Felix’s, in the boiler room of the Grit Pit - if there were ever a space safe from hunters this was it. Opening her mouth wide, she inhaled the orange and allowed it to travel through her body where it would hopefully, finally, meet its end.

Anita whipped her mouth after shifting back to her human appearance, scanned the room, making eye contact with each of the individuals present. “Now that that is settled, let us never speak of this again.” She paused, waiting to see if the orange in her stomach was going to make her rhyme again, “And look at that, no compulsion for poetry.” She grabbed her bag and made her way to the exit, seeing no need for her to stick around for even a second longer.

Ariadne found herself distracted by her relief, up until a lady partially turned into a snake? Or snake-like? Which caused her to do a fairly significant double take. “Or… that. That works too.” It did work, so long as it didn’t hurt the woman who’d eaten the orange and didn’t hurt the orange, either. Even if it had caused all of them to just keep rhyming non-stop. Wynne had found it cute, maybe even charming, but it had been a bit dizzying.

“I won’t say anything about that, I promise.” Ariadne held up her hand, Girl Scout salute and all.

“I know I could use a rootbeer float, if anybody wants to come along?” She turned to leave. “Felix, if you want, we can go shopping for decor together sometime.” Ariadne nervously shifted from the ball of one foot to the other, wishing she had on shoes that were more flexible, desperately wishing to go by her dance studio. “But we did it. That – good job, everyone!” She winced at herself.

—

Thea made a very good point. What about the environmental impact of a cursed glass orange sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor? Felix grappled with the lack of a perfect solution, heart stuttering uncertainly as they tried to come up with some magical answer that might resolve the issue with no kind of negative impact. Burying it in the dirt might find someone else digging it up, keeping it locked away always ran the risk of it being found. What options were available to them? How could they get rid of a thing that didn’t seem to be able to be destroyed without risking someone, somewhere finding it and using it for some kind of poetic evil?

Their heart was pounding with the pressure, panic threatening to suffocate them, when Anita stepped forward. She made a quick beeline for the orange, and — she ate it. Felix blinked, watching it disappear down her throat. She spoke, not in rhyme, and Felix blinked again. The orange was gone. No one was cursed. This was the closest thing to a best-case scenario they’d gotten in a while, wasn’t it?

Their eyes scanned the group, wide and maybe a little confused, but no longer quite as stressed. Ariadne spoke up with offers of root beer floats and shopping, and Felix nodded. “Yeah,” they agreed. “Yeah! Okay! Root beer floats. I’ll pay for everyone. Um, as an apology. For the curse.” Wow, it still felt weird to not speak in rhymes. A slow smile spread over Felix’s face, in spite of everything. They sighed, content, and walked towards the door. “Next time,” they mused, leading everyone out into the hall and closing the door behind them, “I think I’ll buy a glass apple.”

#zombiebabysitter #gossipsnake #notstinky #ariadnewhitlock #charlie: nothing rhymes with orange #anita: nothing rhymes with orange #thea: nothing rhymes with orange #ariadne: nothing rhymes with orange #wickedswriting

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rxadkills · 7 months

Text

regarding wilbur. (TW: sh, suicide, abuse)

it was all fucking fake.

the personality. the stage persona. the want to support his friends. it was all an act.

it was all some sick, fucking act to hide the fact that wilbur is actually just an fucking lunatic and shitstain excuse for a human who deserves to be locked up and put somewhere way deeper than hell. he never gave a flying fuck about shelby or anyone, just himself.

they had a fucking safeword, and yet this fuckwit weaponized it and BRAGGED about biting her so hard that it made her bruise.

not only that, but he only feels bad now that he got caught, and wrote some half-assed chat gpt "apology" where he doesn't even apologize. a better term for it would be "lame ass excuses for why i put Shelby and so many others through horrible shit."

more of a personal take on this, but literally almost every aspect of my life has been somewhat affected by him before this. he kept me from k*lling myself and he helped me through the worst time of my life when i was dealing with severe self harm. but now even the thought of his name makes me want to throw up.

and hell, i am in NO place to talk. i didn't even know the bastard, so i can only imagine how everyone who had the displeasure of knowing him feels. my heart goes out to shelby, tommy, philza, techno, quackity, leandra, zoe, charlie, tubbo, aimsey, billzo, ranboo, and everyone else who had to put up with wilbur's creepy fucking behavior for way too long.

if you still support that wretched fucking psychopathic god awful manwhore, get the FUCK off my page. you are not welcome here and never will be.

if you're hurt over this shit, you have every right to be. i know most of ya'll loved him. i did too. he was one of the few people i could look to for some kind of comfort. but now, our main priority is making sure this fucking bastard isn't given the fame and support he once leeched off of us for.

however, i would just like to say do NOT dox or threaten wilbur. sure, he's a fucking pathetic piece of shit, but doxxing and threatening to kill him make you no better than him.

shelby probably will not see this post, but i just wanna say i am so proud of you. i was a victim of abuse for some time and it's one of the hardest fucking things to open up about. you are so brave and strong for finally bringing this up and we all are by your side during this. we love you /p, keep your chin up so your crown doesn't fall :)

and to wilbur. william patrick spencer gold. fuck you. you've been putting on this fake ass little persona of being a sweet, caring person for way too long. we don't want anything to do with you anymore. if i were you, i would get your pathetic bitch ass off the internet and never come back.

sure, people can change. if you do manage to better yourself, good for you! congrats on bettering yourself. but nobody's forgiving you. you're still just a sick twisted excuse for a person and you deserve to ROT for everything you put Shelby through.

-Ezra

#wilbur soot

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connectionterminated13 · 4 months

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Curious about your space au. Is there different types of aliens? You mentioned there’s only a few true humans left, Mike and William being some of them, so just curious about what types of aliens the rest of the characters are :)

Okay sorry if this takes a while and is silly I like creating silly aliens species sometimes LOL-

Henry/the rest of the Emily family-

As suggested by you his species is techno organic! Which means like they can integrate any piece of tech into their body Seamlessly. Henry's done this a lot like a lot a lot. They also look a bit like squids? Like They have no body hair just tentacles on their heads and chins that kind of look like human hair. Their arms too are naturally just like a mass of tentacles but overtime Due to human influence and like relations, their arms usually are bound or generally shaped into a more humanoid shape. Henry just has like 2 metal arms that look human enough aside from having 2 thumbs (for extra grippines). They also come in a variety of colors. Charlie being black with white stripes and Henry being gold with purple stripes!

Elizabeth-

Elizabeth is part human but her other half is like a clown scorpion alien. Like her body is covered in a thick exoskeleton, Including her face which has plates on it that resemble that of a earthclown Being pale white with red cheeks and red or lips and a red nose. She also has a long tail ending in like a Claw.

Evan-

Just like Elizabeth Evan is mixed Taking a lot more after his father than Elizabeth does. His mom was some kind of bear Alien With lots and lots of teeth. Evan has 2 rows of sharp teeth in his mouth and a second mouth on his stomach along with bare ears and sharp talons. He also sheds a lot of skin which is normal for his moms species.

Jeremy-

Jeremy is a bat like alien because I said so. He has ears and fluff similar to a bat along with 4 Arm with wings On each. He also has like the longest fluffiest tail. And very very sharp teeth. This is the same for the rest of his families

Phone guy/phone dude-

Their species are a lot like snails except it's just the head. They're born with like a normal human head and look close to normal humans say for The greenish blue Scaly covered skin. When they turn about to the muscle bone and skin around their heads starts to deteriorate so they need to find something quickly to put their head into. Phones are a very common object to shove your head into which no one really knows why it's just a traditional thing. After that there are species brains eyes and other Body parts fuse into the head they've chosen and kind of just grow in there.

Michaell-

Michael is technically a clone of William. He's William's DNA mixed with a random other person to produce a stable life form. This other random person was some kind of fox like alien. So Michael was born with a snout and tail and ears. As he got bigger, The ears and tail and snout disappeared slowly Until he was basically indistinguishable from a human save for his hair being a reddish color. As an adult Mikey actually tries to get these features back Through gene stuff since he misses looking different from his father.

Sorry if this is weird and annoying I just like making up aliens LOL and I'm tired

#Space au

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angelofrainfrogs · 2 months

Text

Break My Mind: Ch. 2

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

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

Description: Gregory must be dreaming this time. No sooner had he come to accept this strange reality where everyone is alive and well, than he’s sent back through time and space to the weekend he got trapped in the Pizzaplex. He’s supposed to help his family get on track for a better future, yet… didn’t he already succeed in his own timeline? Confused but relieved, Gregory drops back into his new life in the mega mall. In fact, who should be waiting for him but Michael, clad in a security uniform and searching for his missing family! Only—the night guard seems a bit more withered than when Gregory last saw him. Not to mention that cold look in his silver eyes…

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

“Greg... don't you remember what we told you?” Henry chimed in gently, placing a paw on the shoulder of Gregory's non-broken arm. Based on the look of utter hurt and betrayal, Henry realized the kid didn't. Huh. He'd seemed so aware and present when they gave him a brief run-down of Michael's sordid past after yesterday's run-in...

“Uh... okay—” Admittedly, Henry was taken aback. He paused to think, then let out another sigh. “—Look. Michael is bad news. He simply can't be reasoned with anymore. Will and I tried that, and look where it got us.”

He gestured grimly to the suits, matted with age and who knows what else. Their bodies were still in there, locked forever in a metal prison by none other than William's own son. It was then that Henry seemed to notice Gregory's eyes. With a gasp he leaned forward, Freddy's ironically grinning face suddenly inches from the boy's.

“Oh my god... no. No, he couldn't have—” Henry looked to his former partner, his tone utterly broken. “I-I think Mike got him, Will... with... with the Remnant.”

William grasped Henry from behind, pulling him back slightly to assess the situation. Henry didn’t need to see this; it was clearly too much for the man to bear. Will knelt down, eye-level to Gregory as he looked the boy over with a scathing glance. Slowly, he grasped Gregory’s chin and turned his head to and from the light sources in the room, watching the dead-looking glint in his silver gaze.

“It’s Remnant,” he confirmed solemnly. Gregory had tensed up during William’s and Henry’s too close for comfort analysis.

“What?” Gregory asked, pretending not to know what was wrong. Though it was painful having to relive this scenario twice for himself, playing dumb might give him more answers in the long run. Clearly, these guys couldn’t tell that Gregory was not the one they’d been interacting with this weekend.

William continued, elaborating for Gregory in a pragmatic way. If he explained this normally, maybe it would be easier for him to understand and not freak out completely over it.

“Essentially, it is life everlasting. I discovered it after my youngest son’s funeral—a mistake I’d come to regret quickly…” William refused to explain much about his accidental discovery. “Folks react differently to it. We need to keep him monitored. One thing is for certain—” He looked now to both Henry and Charlie “—he won’t die easily.”

“I… I feel fine. I’ll just wrap my wrist; w-we have to keep moving,” Gregory attempted to deflect, standing up only for Charlie to pull him down by tugging his shirt backwards.

“No way,” she told him. “You’re going to rest a minute. You’re sheet-white, Gregory…”

Charlie may be a might bit blunter in this timeline, but she still meant well. Thank god.

“Yes, we need to take a second,” Henry validated, patting William’s back as he returned to his side. Whether the gesture was meant as reassurance or thanks for not letting him get too close to those dull eyes, even Henry didn’t know. “One thing about Michael is that he rarely acts on a whim. He’s going to be pissed, but he’ll likely take a step back and reassess the situation.”

He paused, thick eyebrows furrowing in what could be considered a grimace. “Unfortunately that means he might also up the ante. He really wants you, Gregory, and I’m afraid we don’t know why. Did he… say anything to you while you were with him?”

Gregory didn’t know anything more than what he was already learning. Over the past few years, Gregory had become very good at making inferences. He wouldn’t really describe himself as a detective, though he was no dummy.

“Just that he wanted me to help him. He sounded, like, distressed, too,” Gregory described. Mike was clearly trying to recruit Gregory, but for what? “He didn’t say what he wanted me to do.”

Defeated, Gregory’s shoulders slumped. His eyes glued to the ground, despondent and sad like he was going through some kind of fast-paced grieving process.

Charlie reached over, hugging his shoulders from behind. He found this a comfort, as it felt like eons since he’d gotten the full force of her strong hugs. Though it felt a bit different with just the one arm, the embrace comforted nonetheless. William turned to Henry, a knowing look on his face.

“Isn’t it obvious? Michael knows he can’t lure any children after his accident with the scooper. He’s trying to find a minion,” he said, so sure of himself. Though Michael may have made a more powerful enemy by firstly exposing Gregory to the Remnant he had stolen.

“…You’re right.” Henry pressed a paw to his oversized mouth. “I knew he was ruthless but holy shit. He just never stops…”

Pulling out a nearby chair, Freddy’s body slumped heavily onto it. The metal creaked in protest but Henry paid this no mind, leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs. Looking to Gregory with determination in his eyes, Henry told him: “Don’t worry, Greg; we’re not going to let anything else happen to you.”

An empty promise, but it was the best he could do. Before, Gregory was faced with a fear of looming death. With the Remnant in his veins, now he feared the opposite. The three spirits in the room knew all too well what it was like to never die…

“Just… don’t disappear on us like before, okay?” The bear offered a somber laugh. “We can’t protect you if we don’t know where you are…”

Gregory had to sit and let in all sink in slowly. It may have been the adrenaline keeping his face so straight this time as his wrist continued to slowly bind its bone fracture back together. The pain would be a reminder of who exactly he could trust in this timeline.

“I won't leave, Henry,” Gregory confirmed.

“Not for anything Gregory, but you're a pretty tough kid,” Charlie remarked, astonished at the way he was handling his injuries and coming so close to death. She could only wonder what Mike would’ve done once he was mad enough. Charlie moved her ill-cut bangs from her face and sighed. “We're never going to find Puppet at this rate, guys...”

It made Gregory's heart hurt to hear his once-optimistic and bright friend sound so low. Losing Michael to his gruesome obsessions had taken a toll on all of them. Charlie only got to witness Mike's downfall from beyond the grave. No way to intervene or help him; just her former best friend spiraling downwards, unbeknownst to those closest to him.

William shook his head, refusing to give up on their plan.

“She wasn't in the security office... My next guess would be the garbage chute,” he replied, not putting it past Michael to throw Puppet's powered down body away so carelessly.

They would need her. She was the one of the only animatronics that could actually fight him without malfunctioning. William physically couldn't even get close to Michael, his body refusing to move nearer than a yard's width.

Henry nodded, getting to his feet again. “I’ll bet you anything she’s in the trash. Will and I can come with you two to get her, but we’ve got to take the long way around…”

He looked between his three companions, silently assessing their strengths and weaknesses. William was just like him: objectively formidable, but unable to touch their target because of Michael’s damn “employee safety” protocols hard-wired to the suits they were trapped in. Unless they figured out a way to remove that feature, they could only watch the final battle from the sidelines.

Then there was Gregory. Resilient but obviously traumatized by the past weekend’s events, it was only a matter of whether his mind or more of his body would break first if Michael got ahold of him again.

And finally, Charlie: Henry’s caring but hardened daughter. She’d been through so much, and now��

“Sweetheart, we really need to fix up that arm,” Henry said worriedly, raising a paw to rub the back of his neck. “I wish I could do it myself, but I’ve just got to walk you through it one-handed.” If only Henry had fingers instead of chunky claws, he’d have Charlie repaired in a heartbeat. Too bad the second best mechanic to him and William was literally plotting to kill them as they spoke…

If only Gregory's wrist wasn't broken. He could’ve helped Charlie out with this one. He felt somewhat useless all over again. Charlie looked up to Henry and William, who in turn stared at her and Gregory with the glances of parents who had so much to worry about already.

“We could probably find tools in the basement too, right?” she asked. “We could all take the access tunnels. I haven't seen Michael go downstairs yet; if we're quick he might not even want to follow us.”

“Gregory?” William called, bringing the boy from his daydreaming as he thought of how a timeline could be so messed up, and how exactly he'd put it on the right track. “I'm going to carry you. Do not argue with me—I'd rather if you didn't get snatched away again.”

He spoke calmly, though was surprised when the little spitfire allowed for him to just scoop him off the chair. William looked to Henry, somewhat smug, as though silently cheering: Look! I am good with kids after all!

Henry couldn't help but roll his eyes at William's expression. He didn't hate the man with every fiber of his being—not anymore, at least. But they'd never be close again after what he'd done to Charlie. Even if Henry believed the claim of William blanking out in a fit of rage over Evan's death, there was simply no reason to take it out on his daughter.

However, William had suffered greatly too over the years. Henry couldn't deny that. Now, they existed in a somewhat tense but begrudgingly peaceful state, hell-bent on the same goal: to take Michael down for good. The eldest Afton was simply a bad seed, and at this point neither could see how he'd ever turn out different than the bloodthirsty murderer he was now.

“Okay—we'll take the access tunnels and keep an eye out for tools and Puppet as we go,” Henry summed up, then reached over to give Gregory's back a reassuring pat. “Will's going to keep you safe, kiddo. But all the same... let me know if you get tired of the bunny ears flopping in your face and I'll take over.”

The barest hint of a smile in Henry's tone lightened up the mood enough for the group to move forward. As one, they cautiously exited the kitchen and made a beeline for the access tunnels.

William knew it’d all been over for him and Henry that fateful night. A rainy birthday that William never should have been at to begin with. One minute, he was barreling down the highway to get to Freddy's, the next he was coming to from a drunken black out in the alley...

It was all his fault.

He accepted that he was a terrible friend. William knew that deep down he never expected Henry to ever forgive him; Charlotte either. It didn't mean that he hadn't still craved it, but he stopped begging for it long ago.

When they all started working together, he would feel hints of the past coming to creep upon them. Nostalgia wrapping the three of them in its false security. William knew better: he was a monster and didn’t deserve the forgiveness.

For it was himself, in his own mind that begun this wretched cycle of pain. Not Evan's death at Michael’s hand, but with Charlie's murder at his own.

William was gentle now, physically unable to hurt even a fly. Were it not for his programming, William would do anything to stop his son from harming anyone else. As such, the orphaned boy would be safe in his arms.

Sometimes, he'd try to be friends with Henry. Though mostly, his attempts at comradery fell flat. As they made for the backdoors, he would say demure and playful: “Don't be so jealous, Hen.”

Charlie made sure to stick beside her father, unwilling to show them her smile. She would never call William “friend” again, though because of his help and recent good behavior, she’d be civil with him. Her heart was cold now, hardened with heartbreaks and jaded. Charlie would still never refer to the man who killed her as Uncle ever again.

“If I wasn't afraid of my arm falling off, I'd let you pick me up, Dad,” she mentioned, content to hold open the door with her good arm for them all to escape through.

“Hey, give me a little more credit, Charlie!” Henry responded as he slipped through the door and waited for the others. “My craftsmanship is much more resilient than a zombie trying to rip it apart—I think I'd have to swing you around real hard to get that thing off.”

Though his tone was joking, the memories of that incident made Henry cringe internally. It'd been the moment he simultaneously realized just how powerful Michael was, and just how powerless he and William were against him.

Before Gregory knew better, Michael had gotten ahold of the poor kid and was trying to coerce him into being “friends”—aka a willing lackey to do his bidding. The trio had burst in at the last second to save him, but as Henry went in for the attack he'd just frozen. The security software had activated and caused Michael to laugh hysterically, and when Charlie blindly tried to jump him he'd whirled around and damn near ripped the arm completely off. It was currently hanging by a few wires and the long sleeve of her security guard uniform... but at least they'd made it out of the encounter with Gregory intact that time.

Now though... the poor kid had to deal with god knows what as that Remnant worked its way through his system. When had Michael even procured the stuff, Henry wondered?

Maybe he had a stash somewhere from old experiments—god forbid he'd been killing more kids recently...

Charlie and the others were more than willing to forget their hardships for a moment as they ducked into the labyrinthine utility halls and head for the access staircase. William, always the paranoid one had walked in front of the group. When Charlie saw him nudging his way to the front, she looked to him with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

“Where are you going exactly?” asked the unimpressed girl. William didn't glance over his shoulder, his line of sight unfazed by Charlie's question.

“We haven't been down here in a while,” William explained, for once being thoughtful. “If there's a trap, I'll be the first to walk into it.”

Maybe there was some self-hatred on his part. Perhaps William thought martyring himself would make them collectively forgive him for everything that's happened. Charlie didn't really care much, but rolled her eyes.

“Dummy—what would you being trapped do for us?” she snapped, thinking it may only slow them further.

William grumbled at her disrespectful tone. “It would give you time to get Gregory to safety. That's what, Charlotte.”

“Please stop bickering, you two,” Henry sighed with the voice of one who'd been through this conversation time and time again. William and Charlie would never get along, but at least they could be civil... mostly. “It's hard to check for threats when you're sniping at each other.”

They traveled swiftly and silently for a while after this initial argument. All four of them were on high alert, Gregory's head swiveling to and fro on William's arms as he instinctively checked for danger. Henry couldn't help but cringe inside when he caught sight of those dull eyes peering through the darkness.

Poor kid...

Gregory had a half-dead stare. There was so much he was thinking over now, mostly the true meaning of infinite when people talked about infinite universes. Of course in one of them, Michael might be a bad person. But it was hard to imagine such a thing after the caring man he’d known in two out of three so far.

As he kept his eyes peeled, the smell of garbage and filth growing stronger, he knew they were nearing the deepest parts of the Pizzaplex. William had checked for the all clear, then held the door open for them. Sparing a glance at Gregory, he recognized what was happening with the boy: disassociation, complete with a thousand yard stare. He reached up a paw, rustling his hair.

“How's the arm, kiddo?” he asked, genuinely curious to see if the Remnant had affected his body's ability to heal itself. Pulled from his deeper thoughts, Gregory glanced up to William.

“Uh... It doesn't hurt much anymore. I still can't move it,” Gregory replied, the feeling of being useless only increasing.

“If the pain comes back, let us know,” Henry chimed in, keeping his eyes focused on the room ahead. “I'm sure we can find some aspirin in one of those first-aid stations upstairs...”

Stepping into the cavernous room, Henry had the sinking feeling that they might never find the Puppet in all this junk... but he quickly reeled back the negative thoughts. He had to be strong for everyone—he couldn't afford to spiral now. They would find Puppet and get her working again. Then, they were one step closer to stopping Michael's reign of terror.

“That section looks fresh,” Henry remarked, lifting a paw and pointing to a bunch of trash that hadn't melted into the rest of the pile with time. “If Puppet's in here, that's probably where she'd be.”

“Charlie, start screaming,” Gregory said, much to Charlie's bewilderment. He had said it so casually and without context, she gave him a more than confused glance.

“Why, exactly?” she asked, needing further explanation than the whims of a kid.

Gregory leaned over in William’s grasp, careful not to scuff his chassis with dirty sneakers as he looked around for any signs of their friend. “I mean... She's your security bot. If she's down here, won't she come to the sound of you being in danger?”

To this sentiment, William's eyes snapped to Gregory cautiously as a lightbulb simultaneously flipped on in Charlie's head. Sensing something was about to happen, Will quickly handed Gregory over to Henry before throwing up his paws, motioning for the two not to get ahead of themselves.

“Actually, I'm not so sure if that's a great idea Greg—” he began to say, but was interrupted by Charlie's ear-shattering screech.

Gregory covered his ears until it was over, watching as William jumped instinctively at the loud sound, then whipped around with startling agility as cans shifted and garbage fell from their tall piles. There was silence for a moment, until William was knocked down swiftly by the black blur that was the Puppet. She perceived William as a threat, and afraid to break the dutiful security bot the man was left with no choice but to try and shake her off instead of defend himself.

“GET IT OFF! HENRY GET THE DAMN PUPPET OFF ME!” William shouted, unable to separate her himself all while Charlie pointed and laughed at his struggle.

“Shit—Puppet! PUPPET, STOP!” Henry set Gregory down and rushed over, doing his best to finagle the lanky robot off her perceived enemy. It took a minute, but eventually Henry managed to separate the pair without damaging anymore of the Puppet's inner mechanisms.

“Hey, no, no, it's me! Henry!” For a terrifying second, the tearstained mask turned to Henry with thin fingers outstretched, ready to fight off the bear as well. Before she could make contact though, Henry quickly whipped her around towards his daughter, shouting: “Charlie's safe—look! Charlotte, stop laughing and take Puppet now, please.”

He didn't use her full name unless he meant business, and now wasn't the time for Charlie to fall into hysterics at William's misfortune... even if it had been satisfying. Transferring the Puppet to Charlie's waiting arms, the security bot immediately began to settle.

“Yes—so glad you thought that was funny…,” William blustered, tying to have some dignity, and he was surprised when Gregory offered a hand to help. Silently, William refused it. He wasn’t going to take help from a child with a broken wrist, after all. “It’s just lovely to see you, Puppet. Please try to remember I’m on your side. Thank you.”

Holding the Marionette in her arms, Charlie’s giggles petered out as she nuzzled her friend with a large grin. “Oh she was just playing, Will. You’re not scared of a little motorized plushie, are you?”

She spoke as if Puppet wasn’t a mechanical weapon with a music box these days. William very obviously shifted behind Henry some, putting distance between the pair and himself. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous… Let’s just move along with the plan now, hmm?”

“Your actions speak otherwise, Will.” Henry couldn’t help but slip in one final jibe before taking his place on the floor near the rabbit. Still positioned between Charlie, her security bot and William, he patted the open spot next to him for Gregory to sit. “Take a load off, kid; we all need a little break.”

As one, they took a moment to breathe. Not for long, though—they had things to do.

“So, ‘plan’ is an interesting choice of words,” Henry began, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ve more so got a list of things to do categorized by necessity. Our ultimate goal: take Michael out before he can do anymore damage. To do that, we need to get ready for battle—meaning we fix Charlie’s arm, make sure Puppet is fully functional, and see if we can disable these damn security protocols Mike installed in these suits. After that…”

Henry trailed off, gathering his thoughts with a tilt of his head. “It’d be ideal if we find a way to disable the Glamrocks. They’re still hell-bent on capturing Gregory and if we can take them down it’d eliminate a huge threat on Michael’s side. And if we have time, we might want to see if there’s anyone left in this place that might be able to lend us a hand—though I’m not sure about that one.”

Gregory put a hand under his chin, thinking hard about their scenario with the Glamrocks. He sat down in a way that made it easy for Puppet to clamber off of Charlie and look him over in an investigative manner. It was almost jarring, how little he seemed to mind her crawling towards him, tugging on his clothes, and gently patting the floof of his hair while he postulated.

“What if we go around and break all of the charging stations? The animatronics will run out of power eventually,” Gregory suggested, turning towards the group for their reactions. “There’d be no way for Mike to fix them faster than we can bust them open... The only problem might be that you guys wouldn’t have a way to recharge either.” He pointed between Henry and William with a frown; those suits looked pretty damn old. “Er—if you need to, I mean.”

“Technically they shouldn’t, though we’ve been using the charging pods to give their vessels a little boost,” Charlie explained, shooting Gregory a sideways glance as she coddled the Puppet in her arms. “It's not a bad plan, but we should think of alternatives. It’s definitely harder to work the suits just relying on soul power, and these things aren’t as flexible as Puppet…”

“We could test that theory now. Let's just shut Henry off and see how long it takes him to get up.” William looked at Henry, completely serious. When Henry gave him a skeptical glare, he let out a short laugh. “Or... I could go first. It hardly matters to me, old sport.”

“Yet again wanting me to test out your theories,” Henry snapped bitterly, though he had to concede the idea in itself wasn’t bad. “But… I am curious if that’ll actually work. If so, and we can control these things without needing the mechanisms themselves, it might be a two for one deal and also shut off those security protocols…”

He hummed in thought, tapping the fingers of one paw against the dirty floor. It was risky, but worth it to test it out—worst case, they’d just have to turn William back on and keep one or two charging pods intact during their rampage.

“Yeah… Gregory, you might be onto something,” Henry said after a moment, then looked to the rabbit again. “Will, turn around so we can get to your control panel. Charlie, can you flip the power switches? I don’t know if these paws can get in there without messing something else up.”

And god forbid Gregory get a glimpse of what’s inside these suits… the kid had already been traumatized enough today.

“Have at it then,” William offered unenthusiastically.

“Worse comes to worse, at least you won’t be bleeding out in one of the backrooms,” Charlie reminded with a dark smirk, scooting closer to William's back and pinching open a panel. For caution’s sake, she looked over her shoulder at Gregory. “Hey... This might be a little gross. You should probably look away.”

Gregory almost didn't until the narrowing of Charlie's eyebrows scared him into glancing down.

“Yeah, sure; whatever...,” he grumbled, curious as to what could be so gnarly inside of an electrical circuit, though not quite curious enough to invoke this assertive version of Charlie's ire.

“Greg, c’mere,” Henry said, pulling the kid into a side hug to rest against the old suit. It was both to comfort and assure he would not try to sneak a peek and see way more than he bargained for.

“This’ll all be over soon, okay?” Henry assured, patting Gregory’s side as he leaned against Freddy’s fuzzy outer casing. Another potentially non-fillable promise, but still the best he could do. Looking down at the boy, he reminded him: “You’re honestly one of the bravest kids I’ve ever met, you know… Man, if only you’d been around in the 80s—you could’ve whipped us all into shape.”

He gave a short laugh, not entirely joking. Further musing on how the past could’ve been different was cut off as Henry heard Bonnie’s servos and circuits powering down. He turned to see Charlie had sealed up the access port, and the rabbit was already slumped over in the default “off” position.

Charlie was sort of amazed that her genius father and her uncle hadn’t thought of this before. Apparently, afterlife stress was a bitch on creativity. As Gregory crawled into the safety of Henry’s embrace to be distracted with flower words of encouragement, she pulled the panel open on the old suit. A switch was flipped, it looked to be the main breaker. She felt satisfied as William fell forward with the assistance of the robot’s pistons and gears to aid his movements. It didn’t look particularly great, or an ideal position to be slumped in, but her smile came back when Gregory answered her dad with a genuine:

“Thank you, Henry. I guess better late than never though, right?” He’d ask in good humor, trying to keep his eyes averted as he could feel jerking movement’s coming from Will’s vessel in the peripheral of his vision.

“Will?” Henry gripped his shoulder and shook it. “Can you still move this thing?”

With Henry’s jumpstart of movement, Will’s head made a pained and twisted jerk to look at the bear. Experimentally, he threw his opposing hand over Henry’s and tested his grip.

“It’s… Harder… I’ll manage,” William said aloud, his only hope that if he kept moving it could only get easier.

Henry exhaled a sigh of relief. Finally, something was working in their favor.

“Okay… this is a great sign, though,” he remarked, glancing to the others with a faint smile in his voice. “We can let Will get used to moving around before we deactivate my suit, too—no need for us both struggling at the same time.”

And, selfishly, Henry wanted to put it off as long as possible. The way William jerked around without the assistance of internal mechanisms looked fucking painful…

“I didn’t see any toolkits on the way down,” the bear added as he slowly got to his feet. “I think our best bet is to go to Parts & Service to pick up supplies for Charlie and Puppet. We can break charging pods along the way. Come on—” Henry offered his hands to assist William in getting upright as well. “—I got you, Will. Let’s move.”

William was almost too prideful to take Henry's hands. Almost.

The fact he even offered was a warm welcome compared to the immense stress it took to make himself work this old suit again. At least he could grasp his hands with bulky, fuzzy fingers and lift himself. Using Henry as his anchor, he would begin to move his legs unassisted.

“Good idea,” William remarked, the engineer in his soul working overtime. “We should pick up some oil on the way. Without the spring-assists, these slip joints are far too dry.”

They could all stock up on however much Charlie and Gregory could carry. It was only a shame that Gregory couldn’t be fixed with spare parts or an oil change like Charlie. His wounds would take time...

Charlie held her broken Puppet with care, yet had no room to hold Gregory's hand. On instinct Puppet shifted, holding onto Charlie's shoulders and seemingly stuck to her back to allow the kids to stay together.

“Bet you there's a sling or a compression band in Parts & Service,” Charlie mentioned with a hopeful smile. Gregory nodded and took a hold of Charlie's still functional hand to walk within their group.

“Great points, both of you,” Henry said, checking to make sure at least one of them had a hold on Gregory before starting the trek back into the main Pizzaplex. “I know there's got to be a back way into Parts & Service from here, but I have absolutely no idea how to get there... I think it's best to take the route we know through Roxy's room—we're close enough anyway, and I'd rather be in an area we know we can hide in rather than a completely unfamiliar one.”

There was danger no matter which way they took, but at least with Henry's suggestion they'd be in familiar territory. Hopefully the band would be searching elsewhere in the Pizzaplex for the wayward child...

As one, the group moved slowly and quietly. The more they walked, the more William's movement improved until he could remain upright without leaning on Henry for support. Things were going well.

—Too well.

“...Guys, hold on.” Henry held out a paw, stopping everyone in their tracks. The group was just about to enter Rockstar Row, and as they peered through the permanently-open doorway to the museum/animatronic break area a sinking feeling hit the pit of Henry's stomach. “Something's not right.”

The area was much darker than Gregory would've remembered it, some of the ambient lighting broken or fizzled out with lack of upkeep. In the shadows, standing directly center on the floor, the outline of a familiar animatronic could be seen—almost as if he'd been expecting them. His blue eyes glowed bright as he watched the group, before locking onto the small boy at Charlie's side.

“Hello, superstar,” Glamrock Freddy said in his low, soothing voice. “It is so nice to see you again!”

***

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#fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #charlie emily #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #angelofrainfrogs #zeitghest #spend the night #the wires that bind us au #break my mind #fnaf gregory #william afton #henry emily #glamrock freddy #puppet fnaf

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brinleyparke · 1 year

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Hawaii Five-0 Fic Ideas/Prompts

Sick!Steve:

Clara Williams is on the island to visit Danny. She finds out that Steve is sick and knows he has no one to take care of him, so she decides to take care of him.

Even better if he got sick taking care of a sick Grace or Charlie. Or maybe Mary and Joanie had been sick, and Steve had taken care of both of them.

Steve takes care of a sick Grace. He ends up sick a week later. (Gen or McKono)

Steve actually does get carsick.

Steve is sick. Doris is actually a good mom for once.

Kono and/or Chin find out about Steve's radiation poisoning.

(Pre 4x08) Steve has a meeting with the governor and some other government and law enforcement peoples. Steve is sick. Lou is there, too. The governor is concerned. The meeting is really long. Like *hours* long. Steve gets increasingly worse. Denning tells steve to go home. Steve eventually goes home; the governor calls Catherine, Kono, Joe, Chin, or Max to check on Steve. He didn't call Danny bc he could tell Steve already had a headache, and the detective's rants would not help.

(Pre 2x23 or AU) Steve is sick but has "too much work to do" as he says. Malia comes in to surprise Chin or something. She notices McGarrett doesn't look too good.

Kono finds out Steve gets carsick (prior to the therapist appt with Danny). She promises him that his secret is safe with her.

Pre-series: Steve gets sick while at ANA. Uncle Joe takes care of him.

Post season 7 finale – Steve has one of his spells during a meeting with the governor.

Alicia finds out about Steve's radiation poisoning.

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majesticuser · 26 days

Text

His Light pt 2

Synopsis: One of the fishes in the pond of Cornell University was Lynn Wan. A hardworking girl attending an Ivy League uni, pursing a career she’s passionate in, and living the normal college life. Everything was going great as she was lucky to be perfect in all aspects - looks, grades, achievements and money. How ever stunning it may sound, this didn’t make her the most stunning fish of all - Cornell was full of people like her. But to the handsome William Huntley, she was THE star.

warning: yandere behaviour, kidnapping, tiny bit of violence (choking), blackmail, sexual fantasy.

Note: William’s dialogue is in bold.

__________________________________________

You didn’t notice the pet name he gave you or the way he said it with so much affection. Or at least you made it look that way judging the way you never hold eye contact for long when he says them - always moving it somewhere else instead of him. He must make you nervous. He chuckles at that. He wanted to reach his hands out and touch your cheeks or lift your chin for you to look up at him. Your meekness is cute but would it kill you to just look into his eyes? He just want to see your soulful pleading eyes - like shooting stars - beautiful, rare and impossible to catch, it looks at him for one second - making his heart race at the thought of it shining with tears, pleading up at him with your pretty mouth around his cock - and then fleeting off elsewhere. How could you do that to him? He wants you so bad he is willing to kneel and beg if you ask him. But he will not give you that power - it will only be used against him. He must be the one to put you on a leash not the other way around. You gotta know who you belong to. He will give you time to adjust before time start to run out - a year to get you with him.

____________________________________

Is he threatening me so I can be his date to the festival?

Why else would he tell me that?

Is he stalking me?

These questions were still on my mind as I went to campus today. I couldn’t quite focus. I rarely get knocked out of study like this, it was impossible not even when I had my first boyfriend. When I sat in the courtyard, he was there as well, on the picnic bench with his friends. Famous friends like him.

I was thinking with my book propped in front of me, not reading it while Charlie and Mia chatted. I shivered at the thought of being stalked, it was frightening, thinking about what he did to get all my information. Did he want something from me?

“Lynn are you okay?” Mia asked me with concern.

I blinked snapping out of my thoughts.

“Ah - yeah just stressed”

“Tell us what’s eating you alive” Charlie said. Any day before William interrupted my life I would’ve smiled.

“It’s nothing just my assignment and work”

Charlie looked at me skeptically, but she let it slide. Should I tell them? Maybe I’m thinking too much. Yeah I’m over thinking. With that solution in mind, I put my AirPods in, finally able to read. No one is that crazy.

“Ooh you got an admirer Lynn” Mia cooed after a few minutes of chatting.

“Very pretty, tall, dark and handsome on that table, lucky you” Mia said cheekily smiling.

I shifted my gaze to find his gaze. Speaking of the Devil that’s been haunting me. His gaze looks truly intense and hungry. I feigned indifference but really wanted to squirm from how uncomfortable it is.

I might be right, he might want something from me.

____________________________________

“Hey Doe” said a familiar voice, stopping me on the way to my car. He was running after me looking as handsome as ever with his flexed biceps and muscular form. I look up to see William towering over me like last Thursday.

“Hi” I say, less enthusiastically, more eager than ever to avoid him.

“What’s the matter you okay?”

No it’s you. I don’t answer.

He now looks down at me with a concerned face. He softly hold both my forearms, closing our proximity. This startled me and I immediately move to pry his hands off. His hands tightens and he pulls me closer.

“What do you want from me?” I say, annoyed but also scared.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong”

“What’s all this? Threatening me? Stalking me? Now you’re harassing me? I’ll call the police on you!”

“You can try darling”

what does that mean?

“You know this is not necessary. To get a girl in your bed. There’s many pretty girls who are willing to do that. I’m not interested in being part of your collection” His prying eyes darken and he clenches his jaw as I say that.

Then suddenly he chuckles with a patronising smile. An arrogant one that tells me he’s better than me.

He was gonna be nice but you obviously are not heading down the same path as him. You are not going to like this.

“Baby you are so innocent-“ He pulls closer than ever our until noses almost touch “I don’t just want your body. I want your MIND and SOUL too. I want you forever and I’ll do WHATEVER it takes to get you. ANYTHING”

I don’t know what my facial expression is but I know it’s of fear and shock. His words feels so genuine that gives me chills. He looks like he’s ready to kill. His dark orbs staring so deep into mine. At this moment I realise that he is probably a psychopath.

“THE HELL you talking about you don’t know me…” I tremble out hitting his rock hard chest and try to free myself all while he still have a tight grip on my wrist.

“Please stop” nothing. “HEL-“ now a hand almost bigger than my neck is gripping it, locking all the air out. I struggle with all the energy I have in vain. He leans in and whisper.

“Scream and I’ll fucking knock you out”

He lets go and allow me to recover with his strong arm around my waist.

Your eyes are shining with unshed tears and GOD he loves it. He wants to kiss you right here and fuck you on the spot.

“Now get in.”

He demands and jerk his head to his right. I follow at where he gestured and noticed a shiny black Mercedes Benz.

“N-no” I tremble out again, shaking my head, a teardrop sliding down my face as I realise there might be no way out of this.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, I won’t hurt you unless you make me. Just think about your place here at Cornell… they certainly won’t like it if they know how you’re paying for it…”

No no no he can’t do that. No one can know about my dirty side hustle. I break down into tears while his hand is framing my face. I wish I never talked to him in the first place.

His hand is now on my back leading me to the Benz. I have no choice, it’s either me or my dreams. My parents will be disappointed and my will not be able to prove my independence to their protective ways. He tells me to slide to the other end of the backseat with a tight grip on my wrist while he gets in. There is a chauffeur in a black suit, whose face has no emotion and the short sound of something locking in tells me that he just locked all the doors.

“To the penthouse” William said and he immediately drives.

I’m drowning in so many emotions - anger, defeat, fear, hopelessness, from being locked in a car with an almost stranger going God knows where and what’s going to happen to me.

In the midst of my agony, his demanding grip is on my wrist trying to drag me, which I don’t give in that easily but end up being pulled to him like a rag doll anyway. He circles his arm around my waist again, forcing my head on his shoulder and peck my forehead as I cry knowing that I can’t resist anything.

He fucked up. He was suppose to take you to the festival and make you fall in love with him. But he’s not a patient man no matter how hard he tries. He’s not used to it. He always got what he wanted with a snap of a finger even with girls. But you are different because you are obviously not crazy about him like the others. The guilt in him made him genuinely try to console you with a “sorry baby, I just want you so much” as he rubs your back comfortingly. It doesn’t change the fact that he wants to keep you closer for himself. Your fragility and sensitive character is the pinpoint to his attraction as you’re sobbing on his chest in your sleep.

___________________________________

“We’re here baby” he whispers in your ear. It was an hour ride and you were napping the whole time

I feel the warm breath graze my cheek, and try to open my eyes. Completely confused and trapped in the warm embrace of his upper body, I adjust my blurry vision to my surroundings. This is not my home judging by the parking building and not the street outside my avenue. But I go along with it anyway so he doesn’t choke me again or worse, kill me.

I start to panic when he is walking towards an elevator as my fear starts to settle in.

“Wait where am I ? Where are we going? What are you going to do??” I gently, yet frantically say in a panic, trying not to provoke him. I know it wouldn’t increase my chance of escaping but at least I would be prepared for what’s going to happen.

“Calm down Doe. This is your new home. You’re gonna love it” he said with excitement and steps into the elevator.

To be continued…..

#mafia au #yandere #college #fanfiction #dark romance #dark aesthetic

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