#i have no explanation for this other than Ghost and Love already have a hard time keeping their hands off each other

[ghouljams]

HI i need to know what happens to Love after Ghost drags her out of the store please and thank you whehrhw 🥹👉👈

PS IM LOVE U !!!! TQSM FOR ALL THE THINGS YOU WRITE

Uh, they're animals your honor. Something possessed me when i wrote this at like 1am last night... Lets have Ghost do a fun magic trick to make up for my brain rot.

Simon drags you out of Liebling's store with very little convincing. Hardly letting you loose before you're turning to kiss him. Pressing the length of your body against his as you grab his face and pull him down, all tongue and teeth and desperation. His hands grope over your ass, under your thighs, you hop to help him lift you and wrap your legs around him. The jingle of your keys just barely reaches you over the slide of his tongue against yours. You're pressed back against a wall as Simon does... something with your keys.

A lock clicks and the wall behind you swings open, letting you both tumble to the floor. Simon kicks the door shut behind him, his fingers trying to work around yours to get your fly open. Good, you'd hate to be the only one who needs this right now.

"Wicked, devious little thing," he murmurs between kisses, his teeth catch your lip and you taste blood. You haul him closer so he can run his tongue along the split and he groans against your lips. He hardly waits for you to squirm your pants down before his hand is sliding between your legs, fingers rubbing you through the fabric of your panties. "Fuck you are soaked," he really shouldn't sound so pleased with you, it might encourage you to do something like this again, "What are you thinking?"

"Want it to hurt," You mumble, grinding down against his fingers.

"Sweet girl," Simon warns, his fingers hook into your panties, claws slicing the fabric apart as his other hand slides his belt free and his pants down, "always know just what to say."

His thick cock splits you open in one maddeningly deep thrust. The drag of his veins against your tight gummy walls makes you arch into him, clenching against the intrusion. Simon swears and you whine. God he stretches you so good, shapes you to fit him and only him. The roll of his hips is fluid, shallow, keeping you full as you get used to the movement, to the burn.

You don't want to get used to it, you want that hungry power that Liebling had pulled, that desperate clawing aggression. You thread you fingers through Simon's hair, feel your heart flutter at his absolute trust when you pull his head to the side, and you bite him as hard as you can. His hips still, pressed flush against you, its your last warning before his hand closes around your throat and you're yanked off of him. He pins you down to the floor, his claws gouging the wood on either side of your neck. Eyes black, muscles trembling, you feel a very pleased rumbling in your chest at the red mark you've left on him, at the raw aggression in his gaze.

"You're forgetting your place, Love," Simon pulls nearly all the way out of you, and your brain reminds you in a panic that there's always a very real possibility he doesn't fuck you at all. He grabs your legs with his arm and pulls them to the side as he slams back into you so hard it almost hurts, the slap of his skin against yours sure to leave a mark.

God this is what you wanted, what you needed, he's been too gentle with you recently. Not now, now he fucks you without a thought for your comfort, keeping you pinned and twisted how he needs as you dig your fingers into the hand at your throat. He whispers absolute filth to you, "Such a greedy little slut, were you hoping for a show in the shop? Thinking about how badly you wanted my cock while you played your little trick?"

You nod and whine and beg for him. Barely able to think as he pounds that spongey sweet spot in your gushing cunt over and over again. Your skin prickles with sweat and your core burns hot from friction and need. Simon's palm presses against your throat, a solid physical connection, your tethers light up and he shudders pressing deep into you as he cums, dragging you down with him.

His thick seed fills you and you spasm on his cock, gasping his name as you arch your back. You can feel yourself clench around him, feel the way his shoulders tighten and his hips shudder. It might not be fair but you didn't want fair, you wanted this: rough and all magically natural. Your chest heaves as Simon releases his grip on your neck and all but collapses on top of you. Now that your head is clear, you recognize that light.

"Is this our flat?" You ask, staring at the ceiling, Simon presses his face more firmly against your throat, "How'd you do that?"

"Easy magic: you had a key, I made a door. Now shh, trying to forget seeing König hard."

[myheartxmyman]

But somewhere over the last year I lost you, the person I still love deeply. Whoever you are now is someone else. I tried to reach you, find you again, but who you are now who you became I don't even consider as a friend.

[unreliablesnake]

The Bet – part 2 (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Ghost admits that he wants more from you, and so the two of you go on your first official date.

Note: Here's part 1. I didn't expect people to like it this much, so I decided to write a short part 2. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Part 3

Warnings: none, it's fluff.

It had been there for weeks. An invisible string connecting the two of you, pulling you to the other no matter how hard you tried to resist. Again and again you found yourself staring at him in secret, watching him intently even in crowded rooms. You didn’t care that anyone could notice it, you couldn’t resist the urge to keep an eye on him.

And Ghost was aware of this. His eyes often met yours, his gaze resting on you for longer than it did when he looked at other members of the team. Could it be that he felt it too? Could it be that he noticed that string as well?

All of this had begun when you licked his arm because of a stupid dare. Ever since he touched you, you had been yearning for more, you wanted to feel his hands all over your body, pleasuring you in any creative way he could think of. He lit a fire inside of you, and you didn’t know how you could put it out.

Not like you truly wanted it to end, after all it was the kind of sweet torture many often choose to experience. But they usually knew they would eventually get what they were waiting for, but in your case Ghost was off limits. He was a lieutenant, and as such, he was your higher up. It couldn’t happen. Not without consequences.

“Are you listening?” Ghost asked you, one palm placed on your shoulder, his thumb absentmindedly massaging your neck. “Sergeant, I asked you a question.”

Why did he have to do this? Did he really have to touch you? It made your knees weak and you were struggling to stand straight. His hand stayed where it was, maybe even gripping you a little harder now, keeping you in place.

You cautiously looked around, making sure no one was around, then stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his mask. He drew in a sharp breath as his dark eyes fell on you, watching as you stepped back and folded your hands behind your back.

Despite his initial reaction, he looked surprisingly calm, maybe even a little cold. “What was that all about?” he asked you with his head slightly tipped to the side.

“I don’t know,” you lied. Because you knew. Deep down you knew you wanted him to know you were interested in him. That you wanted him so badly that it made you stupid.

Ghost shook his head as he inhaled loudly. “Don't lie to me. Just say it. Tell me the truth.”

“I can't… I just,” you tried again, but your voice faded as you failed to put your thoughts into words.

His eyes suddenly softened and he even took a small step towards you. “I already told you, love, only do things like that when you really want it, not because of a bet,” he told you, although his voice was kind.

Letting out a sigh, you shook your head. “It's not a bet, not this time,” you assured him.

Ghost reached out and took your hand, gloved fingers lacing with yours. It took you some time to look him in the eye and see how expressive they were now. Those warm brown eyes were locked on you, telling you that he was eagerly waiting for your explanation.

“While we were away with Price and Gaz, I–I couldn't stop thinking about what I had done. I know it was just a stupid, childish bet, but–”

“But you want more now,” he interrupted you, his voice carrying a hint of hesitance despite sounding confident. You nodded, silently waiting for his reaction. “You're not the only one,” Ghost finally admitted.

This brought a smile to your face. He wanted you as well. So you weren't imagining things, he truly felt the same way about you. You raised your free hand to his masked face, resting it on his chin that was free of the hard plastic skull, and he immediately leaned into your touch.

“You haven't even seen me without my mask yet,” he suddenly said, earning a shake of your head in response. “And if it turns out I'm not your type?”

“I know you and that's enough for me. Do you want me to tell you about all the things I want you to do to me?” you asked suggestively, your hand moving from his chin to his chest, a finger hooking under his vest to pull him closer.

“Stop teasing me, Sergeant, or else…”

“Or what?”

Ghost let out a deep growl as he let go of your hand and simply pushed you until your back hit the nearest wall. Your entire body trembled from the excitement you felt, eagerly waiting for him to take off his mask and finally kiss you. But he had a different idea as he wrapped his hand around your throat and ran his thumb over your jawline before leaning closer to you.

You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. He didn't do much, yet it was more exciting than anything you had imagined in the past weeks. This man could play you like a violin, knowing perfectly well how to make you lose your sanity. You thought you were teasing him? No, you were just playing some stupid game.

This. This right here was the definition of teasing.

“Mission's almost over,” he began quietly, “why don't we meet once we're done here? We could have fun.” Even though you opened your mouth to respond, no sound left your throat. “I'll send you the time and the address. I won't wear my mask so I'll find you there. Just be patient, that's all you have to do.”

•••••••••

In the message Ghost told you where and when to meet, and he even warned you to call him Simon outside of work. It was okay, you couldn't wait to test what it would feel like when his name rolled off your tongue.

Simon.

You smiled to yourself after you silently mouthed his name while sitting at the bar, looking at your cocktail. As you stirred your drink with the straw, out of the corner of your eye you noticed a guy looking at you from a few seats away. Could it be him? He seemed tall and big enough.

“You shouldn't be ogling other men when you're waiting for your date,” someone suddenly whispered into your ear.

You turned your head to the side to face the source of the familiar voice. That's when you truly saw him, looking at you with the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. Is this what he had been hiding under that mask all this time? You gulped, having a hard time figuring out what to say. Should you kiss him? Or would it be too soon?

Before you could make up your mind, Ghost pressed his lips to yours, cautiously tasting you, as if he was unsure about the whole thing. Your heart wanted to jump out of your ribcage while you were kissing him, the excitement you felt being too much to bear. He was excellent at making you feel good, and he was certainly aware of the effect he had on women.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, love,” he told you before taking the empty seat next to you.

Giggling like some stupid schoolgirl, you twirled your hair and looked at him through your lashes. “You can't complain either, handsome.”

What the fuck was wrong with you? How did you turn into this giggling mess all of a sudden? It was just a handsome face and a kiss that felt too good to be true. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath and listened to Ghost ordering a bourbon for himself.

You were screwed.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Ghost when he reached out to take your hand in his, large fingers enveloping it tightly. “Simon,” you began, enjoying the way it felt to say it out loud, “are you sure about this? I mean, about being here with me?”

The lieutenant flashed a surprisingly wide smile at you as he raised your hand to his lips. “I wouldn't be anywhere else.”

And you believed him. You believed every word he said because he was so nice, and warm, and soft, everything he wasn't while working. He was usually focused on the mission, and even though he was often worried about his teammates, he never seemed this relaxed.

“Do you live here? In London, I mean,” you asked.

Ghost shook his head. “No, I'm from Manchester. Lived there my whole life.”

Your face began to hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn't stop, not with him around. Simon and Ghost were so different that if you hadn't known he was coming here to meet you, he could've sat there next to you the whole night and you wouldn't have noticed it was him.

Simon seemed perfect so far–nice, and kind, and loving, unafraid to show his emotions. The more you found out about him as you talked, as you kept questioning him, the more you understood the use of the mask. He was building a barrier between his private and work personalities. He was protecting himself, and maybe even those he cared about.

Then your series of questions came to an end, and it was his turn to ask you about yourself. He wanted to know about your family, about your hobbies, about your taste in music and movies. He wanted to know everything, really. And he paid attention to your words. He truly wanted to get to know you, it wasn't just pretend.

“Why don't we watch a movie?” he asked you, referring to the new part of a series he now knew you loved. “I have time.”

But you didn't want that. You wanted something entirely different, something more intimate. You wanted all of him, finding out what it felt like to be touched by him. So you began to massage his hand with your thumb, giving him a seductive smile that easily told him what you truly wanted now.

“Or we could go to my hotel room,” he corrected himself with a smile.

You leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips, one he eagerly turned into a more passionate one. He slowly slipped off his chair and stood next to you without breaking the kiss, hands resting on the sides of your neck to keep you focused on him. Little did he know that he didn't need to do that, you were already hyper-focused on him, forgetting about the outside world completely.

“I'd rather choose this latter option,” you said quietly, your forehead resting against his.

Ghost smiled at you before giving you another quick kiss. “I'm glad you said that.” He extended his hand, offering you to take it. “Come on love, let's get out of here.”

[horang-07]

i am about to ramble like a crazy person abt the fnaf movie so scroll if u don’t like spoilers

was not expecting all the love on my last post so i will keep posting thoughts abt the movie

another thing that rlly interested me in the movie was the focus on images, how humans process things through what we see rather than context, and how this sets up the fnaf movie trilogy to focus on fnaf 4 in the next movies.

the most obvious example is abby, we’re explicitly told that children communicate and understand things through pictures, which mike sorta shrugs off until he starts seeing the bigger picture. this then applies to the animatronics when he learns that they are also children and incredibly influenced by the drawings in their environment. the restaurant in the movie is very much a living thing of its own, the way it thrums to life when abby enters, and the animatronics know the truth of the drawing the second it is pinned up, and the animatronics are an extension of that.

a less obvious example is mike. even though he shrugs off abby’s teacher, and the point she makes about him being at the centre of all her pictures, he is much the same. it isn’t just children who are influenced by images. he has been returning to the same image every night for we don’t even know how long, the same picture of the nebraskan trees, the same perfect family picture he describes to vanessa, the same image of his brother looking at him out of the car window. everything he does is a result of this image. he is wholly consumed by it, believes he can somehow change the picture and see the truth beneath it if he just tries hard enough.

the ghost children, specifically golden freddy, change the image for him in an attempt to placate him into giving them abby, but no matter if he dreams of a happy family, it wont change the truth of what happened. just like how pasting a picture of five children happily holding hands with a golden bunny won’t change the truth underneath. images are fallible, they don’t tell the truth and we cannot trust our brains.

firstly i think this is a really fun direction to take in context to how the movie humanises the animatronics. fnaf 1 is a game made entirely of scary, still images of the animatronics, save for the jumpscares and foxy’s run. the lore is sparse and entirely given through exposition (if i hear one more person complain abt vanny only being there for exposition and not phone guy’s two minute loredump at the start of every night in the game i will lose it), and we know nothing other than that our death is imminent.

but the truth is that these animatronics are kids. they’re scared and lost and confused and cannot understand what has happened. underneath bonnie in the west hallway camera and freddy staring at you from the showtime room are terrified kids doing what they feel they have to. the movie was incredibly dedicated to showing that these kids still want to build pillow forts and sing to music and tickle their friends and be a family and i think it was a great choice.

i think all this focus on images is definitely a perfect lead into fnaf 4 (im not 100% on my book lore but i believe there are three books that cover fnaf 1, fnaf 4 and then sister location??) especially with the recent lore update that all of fnaf 4 is hallucinations. we don’t need a lore explanation of how the nightmares could be real because… they aren’t. following the game timeline, fnaf 4 would have already happened by now but we could easily see a return to it through mike, especially if the schmidt-emily or schmidt-afton theories are true and mike could have been the child in fnaf 4 but surpressed his memories. firstly we have a protagonist who is already on sleeping medication and has dreams that can be easily manipulated. this is a perfect setup for the nightmare animatronics to start making themselves known.

i also think that fnaf 1 was intentionally visually tame. the themes of the movie are actually very dark, they don’t shy away from the truth of the bodies being hidden in the suits, the animatronics Very Brutally kill the burglars, max is literally bitten in half and her body is hidden away, but the on-screen gore keeps it pg. this 100% allows them to experiment further with the levels of gore, tension and violence if they do fnaf 4, because quite frankly some of the nightmares are horrifying.

TLDR this movie sets up a million directions and theories that the next one could go in, and theres nothing the fnaf fandom loves more than vague lore and theory crafting

vanny post next bc i have Thoughts

[undercoverpena]

badly wrapped secrets

cod ghost x helen (f!reader) | part one of the birthday bash

summary: she thinks she has one over him. but ghost knows more about helen than she thinks.

warnings: smut mentions/smut. 18+. romance.

an: to all the helen lovers, i hope this was a lovely treat. for those who are unsure who helen is, here you go.

She thinks she has one over him. 

Not aware that he pays attention—that he listens. Tuning in to the words you say, the lies you spill with difficulty, and most importantly, to the ones between them both.

Ghost knows her. Knows that she isn’t one for attention and big plans—preferring the quiet, the under-the-radar kind of moments. Her job brings her enough attention—enough gratitude and praise.

When she isn’t saving lives, she chooses to hide. Tuck herself away until she’s next required.

He likes that she's that way. 

Helen has never forced or asked him, never needing him to be much more than he already is. She understood him, from the first moment they met to their reintroducing.

Her introduction of the tap—two taps when she misses him, when there’s a room full of people. The lingering stare with the slanted smile when she wants him, but can’t make any other motion until they’re alone.

Those were made for him.

Not requiring a reason or an explanation as to why he didn’t share his past (until he did). Not pushing for more, just accepting him for all of the shards and pieces he’s made up from.

It’s why he wants to surprise her. 

Ghost wants to make her smile on a hard day—on a day that others, before him, have made harder. 

It’s why he continues to allow her to tell him an approximate, but not the actual day. Let her have this small thing while he deduces the truth. Allows her this wall that he’ll eventually tear down, because that’s what they do—patiently renovating the another until something new is made from the rubble.

He wants to make her smile, but he finds it difficult when her eyes open—washing him in that look she does when she’s grateful for a morning beside him. Because all he wants to say is those two words.

A part of him needing to let her know she hasn’t been forgotten. Not cast to the side. Her special day blending with others, as it usually is.

Even more so when her fingers tug on his neck, pulling him close. His body—albeit large and bulky—moves with ease, until his thigh slides between her knees, hearing the soft whisper of his name.

She pleads for him to touch her, as she tries to touch him. Nails skating down his chest, making him groan somewhere low in throat, until he remembers that today isn’t about him, but her.

Not that he can fucking say that.

He can’t. 

He’s respecting her—and her decision about sharing parts of herself with him. 

Because he has a plan. Even if he wants to cast it aside as her fingers do that comforting scrape through his hair—her jaw tightening as the air peppers with Simon.

Ghost likes being the reason her body relaxes, turning her muscles into jelly—making her back arch and hips rise against his tongue. He also likes showing her, in his own way, that he’ll never forget her—not a birthday, her face or her parents name.

Rising up, he kisses her—her fingers clutching his cheek.

“Hold your knees f’me, Helen.” 

Helen is difficult when she wants to be. 

She’s been fighting him since he suggested they should get some air. Go for a run—a walk. 

Her eyes rolling as she pulls on her boots, complaining that this is her day off. Groaning that she wishes to go to what they were doing before he forced her out—which was him between her thighs, pressing her into the mattress and then against the tiles of his shower room. 

He grits his jaw when she continues—trying not to drag her out of his room. Trying to give her both a choice and not realise suspicion.

Because he needs her out of his room. Needs her outside, where his plan won’t be ruined.

So when he finally gets her outside his room, the two of them fall into their usual rhythm, a noticeable distance—one they don’t have to keep so far apart when they’re off base. When they aren’t Ghost and Helen. 

Glancing periodically, he finds she eventually relaxes when they’re outside. When her hands bury in her jacket, and she lets the air cool her skin—and her temper. 

His plan slipping into place, jaw tightening as she orders him where to go—like a disciple instead of his usual position as a leader. Deep down, he’d banked on her bossiness, although he acts like he hasn’t instigated all of this under her nose. 

It’s easier—he’s learnt—to let it happen. To let it unfold, to not force or push. Even if he wants to—even if he wants to throw her over his shoulder and take her in a direction far away from his room.

Instead he promises they’d be outside for an hour. Two, max. 

That’s all he needs. Then they can return, let her find respite in his sheets and waste away the hours just the two of them being alone. 

Truthfully, Simon likes it as much as she does. He enjoys keeping himself between those four walls when his day aligns with hers. And not just for the obvious.

Biting his tongue from telling her as much as she occasionally shoots him an annoyed statement.

After what feels like an uphill walk of her rambling to annoy him, she chooses a spot near a tree. The conversation and questions fade to silence as she sits, and he finds himself just watching her. 

Ghost only follows when she glares, her brow raising into her hairline, and he sighs. 

“You dragged me out. The least you can do is sit where I want to sit.” 

“You’re bossy.” 

“You love it.” 

Snorting, he grunts as his back meets the tree. “Only sometimes, Helen.” 

Her head tilts back, eyes closing as her smile spreads into her cheeks. Like this, he wishes he could snap a photo of her—stuff it into his vest, keep this moment with him. 

So often, he finds himself thinking of her when he shouldn’t be anyway. He may as well have something more concrete to stare at than conjuring her up. 

Instead, he traces his finger over her cheek, feeling her smile broaden. 

“You wanna head back to the room?” 

Opening one eye, he watches as she drags her gaze up and down. Licking her lips, “I’ll admit it’s been nice getting out.” 

Ghost feels his smirk catch on his mask, the sun resting on the two of them, lighting up all the shades that make her eyes up.

“Made for a good birthday walk,” she innocently adds. 

His teeth slide in his mouth. Not saying a thing. 

Feeling her head turn, continuing—even if she shouldn’t. “Look, it isn’t a big deal. I never told you when it was—“

He groans, biting back a smirk. 

“—And I hate my birthday, so it was easier to pretend it was any normal day. But it’s been nice. So far.” 

So far. 

The two words rot in the air before disappearing, hanging all horribly and wrong. He wants to rip them from the air, from her mind. 

Wants to tear the memories that live in her mind so the new ones can take up more space. 

Mainly, he wants to ruin the things that have made her question her worth, made her feel unspecial on the day she should feel like the world revolves around her.  

“Simon… I—”

“Let’s go back to the room.” 

That’s all he says—all he can say. 

Everything suddenly builds, thrumming. 

He’s worked too hard not to let her see it. That someone cares—that he cares. 

Because he doesn’t do nice things for people—not like this.

He stands, offering her his hand as he feels her fingers in between his and pulls her up. Wanting nothing more than to tell her that he knows. 

He knows. 

And he won’t ever forget.  

Relinquishing control is difficult but not as difficult as keeping her busy enough for the plan to unfold.

She’s usually too good, always assessing, always thinking. 

Usually, he likes that about her. 

Right now, he finds it fucking annoying. 

Internally, he’s praying it’s all worked out. The preparation and direct instructions were clear—enough for Johnny, anyway. 

Opening the door to his room, he allows her to trail in behind him. His fingers secretly crossed before he relaxes, fixing his eyes on her to watch her see it. 

And fuck is it something special. 

Her eyes widened, taking it in, piece by piece, going from the barely hung multi-coloured streamers to the poorly wrapped gift in black and white striped paper. 

And then, finally, to the cake. The crooked, messy one in the centre of a plate from the mess hall. The unlit candle—he thinks has seen better days—plonked with as much dignity as could be expected from Johnny helping. 

Slowly, second by second goes by, before her eyes meet his. They’re wide, all wild and shimmering with tears threatening to spill.

“Simon… what did you do?”

Clearing his throat, he slowly lifts his mask. Pushing it up, all of a sudden feeling heavy as the air brushes over his now-free skin. “I know it’s not anything big.” 

He watches as she bites the inside of her cheek, stepping towards the present before looking back at him, peeling back the paper, and moving the tissue. It remains in her hands, her shoulders shaking, before she turns on the spot—tears, accompanied by a smile, falling in thick droplets.

Her conflicting thoughts is what makes him crack a smile. Her eyes shooting from the open box and the new stethoscope inside—black, with white detailing—before lifting them back up to him. Not yet knowing there’s a ghost clipped between the part where it splits off for her ears. That she hasn’t noticed, and he mentally prepares himself for another set of tears.

“This is… how?” 

He steps closer, lifting her chin to meet his gaze as he removes the mask, throwing it over onto the bed.

“Because I know when you’re lying. And I know when your fucking birthday is, Helen.”

“How?”

He shrugs, but her eyes they don’t believe him.

“Because I care, Helen. I know, because I care.”

Her lips slide up her cheek, a glint appearing in her shimmering eyes.

“You care?”

“Helen,” he says, warningly.

Smirking, she rolls her lips, staring down at the box again. Lingering a bit too long, until he hears the chuckle as to why.

“A ghost, really?”

Shrugging again, placing his hand on her hip. “I can take it back.”

“No, no,” she says, attempting to move it from his reach. “I like it, thank you.”

She stares a little longer, other words—ones unspoken—greeting the air, practically drilled into him by her eyes.

Thank you, for all of this.

He nods—short, and full of understanding, as well as signalling: you’re welcome.

dedicated to @guyfieriii - who loves this pairing as much as me, and listened to me wail about them a lot

[sunshinechay]

So I was watching the new La Pluie episode and seeing everyone’s reactions and it finally hit me as to why I love Tai and his narrative so much.

The narrative is allowing him to make the worst, the most ugly choice, but more than that. It is letting him be unlikeable. Especially in a non traditional way.

The most memorable non likeable protagonist to me is Emma Woodhouse from Emma (I think I also might have Austen on the brain from Step By Step don’t judge me). She is vain and arrogant and generally doesn’t listen to a lot of people until she has finally alienated so many people in her life that she is forced to stop and to ask herself, “am I the problem here?” When she realizes the answer is yes, she goes about at least attempting to improve. She apologizes to the people she’s hurt, trying to be more humble and learn more humility and to generally be a better person. She is not the most amazing person by the end, but she is better and she will continue to work on herself the further in life she gets.

I see a similar thing happening to Saengtai. While he is not rude or vain or arrogant (hence non traditional unlikability) but he is that guy who will just, not say anything. He is the person who will ghosts his kind of ex because he doesn’t know how to start the hard conversation. He can’t help but make a lot of things about himself and his struggles and his problems, even when they’re not. I mean, he holds a grudge against his mother for 2 years about the divorce and her getting remarried but never bothers to attempt to ask her about anything, about how she feels about the divorce or her remarriage. He is selfish and self cantered and conflict avoidant to fault. He feeds into Tien’s belief that his feelings don’t matter by never noticing when his brother is struggling, up to and including Tien’s feelings for Lomfon. Again this might be unintentional but it is no less selfish.

I really love that about his character. That he is allowed to act that way without being portrayed as the bad guy or the villain. He is now being afforded the opportunity to grow and reflect upon himself. He starts that this episode with apologizing to Tien and having that open discussion with his parents and brother. His parents had to start the conversation because of how much they left out of their initial explanation of their divorce to their children but it is still proves to be a learning opportunity for him and I believe Tien as well. I don’t mind this as I think it would be good (though a little cliche and trope-y) for Tai’s big attempt at communicating and communicating effectively be with Patts (I love cliches and tropes and I’m not sorry about it haha). His parents know and understand in the way that Tai thinks Patts should already and are thus able to better understand and predict what Tai is upset about and what he needs to talk about the most. Patts however, has no such ability.

I’m almost hoping that Tai’s first attempt kind of fails as no attempt at a conversation is perfect and miscommunication happens, so it’s important it make sure you try and again and again, especially when you know the other person is as important to you as Patts is to Tai. Plus Patts deserves to have Tai fight for him. He’s been through so much and I think it would go a long way for Patts to be able to see that Tai isn’t going to give up when his first try goes badly.

I also really liked his meeting with Lomfon. Perhaps not the ending, but I don’t blame him for Patts’s reaction either. Tai had no reason to believe that Patts would show up. He just wanted to clear the air with Lomfon and offer his support and friendship. Both Lomfon and Tai are in a very similar position to one another so it’s no surprise to me that Tai finds it the easiest to talk with him and forgive him.

I can’t wait to see Tai develop even more next episode. He is taking responsibility for his actions, for what he is has said and what he hasn’t. I also hope that he will continue to work on it through the episode. This show’s writing has been on point this entire time and so I’m really hoping for a good ending that ties everything together.

[tmntxthings]

request: can I get a platonic Rise!Turtles(mainly Mikey cus I love that boy way too much, also can you add April if possible?) x GN/Male Reader. The prompt is that the reader is this omniscient spirit-like entity from a different dimension who likes to travel through worlds and interact with them or simply watch them from afar through astral projection and just so happened to lend into this one and had caught an interest by the Turtles(because they're the only beings so far that radiate magic energy) and decided to follow them around

In This World

author’s note: omigosh so sorry for the wait, I rlly rlly rlly rlly hope you enjoy >.< to tumblr, u need auto save, like I was almost done (._.) three perspectives are missing, don’t do this to me AGH

warnings: platonic relationships, fluff, comfort, unedited

———���—————————————————————

Leo

Leo never thought a silly game of ouija board would amount to anything other than him scaring the bejesus out of Raph and Mikey, he didn’t have any hopes to scare Don. But as fate had it, unbeknownst to them all, you were watching the game and decided to have a little fun.

Now Leo had planned on pushing the piece around the board, and acting as if a ghost had done so. But before he could apply much pressure the little glass piecing was already moving to the letter ‘y’ after he had asked “Is anyone out there?” Leo immediately suspected Donnie had went ahead and moved it so Leo shot him a glare

But Donnie was raising his eyebrows and giving him a look that said what?? “Alright wait a minute, everyone let go..” Leo said and everyone retracted their fingers from the glass piece. “Is anyone out there?” He asked again and watched in horror as the piece moved on its own. Spelling out yes.

All the brothers were up from their spots around the board, running to the edges of the room and screaming bloody murder! “A GHOST IS HAUNTING US!!!” Leo couldn’t believe it, he thought everything had a rational explanation, but he couldn’t exactly refute what his eyes were seeing.

After things settled down and more questions were asked, full blown conversations had with not a ghost they found out but you! Turns out Donnie’s whole theory about the multiverse and space time continuum was true, Leo didn’t know what that all meant but basically it meant you weren’t dead, nor a ghost, nor haunting anyone, though you admitted to them all that you found them very entertaining

Leo might’ve become a little more entertaining after that, but the coolest part was when you finally revealed your astral projection/image, the two of you got into trouble plenty of times after that, mega pranks being pulled, if Leo was ever bored out of his mind, he’d go to you with a big smirking expression on his face, “Y/n~~~~ who do you wanna prank this time???”

Donnie

After finding about your existence you better bet your bottom dollar that Donnie is taking the ouija board in his lab and asking all the questions his big brain can think of, this turtle has some hard hitting inquiries too. “How is this possible?” “How does your power work?” “How many realities have you been to?” “What made you stop in this one specifically?”

Come to find out, the turtles mystic energy is off the charts after the events with the kraang. I was drawn to your power signatures but I stayed because it’s never a boring day here, you tried your best to answer all of Donnie’s questions, you found it quite endearing how curious he was, to you having become used to the traveling you didn’t think it was that special

Donnie would try conducting experiments once you revealed your astral form, though much to his dismay he found that he couldn’t exactly hook you up to a bunch of wires, they’d just fall to the ground right through you, what boggled his mind completely was when you would hand the wires back to him with a shrug, not being able to explain how you could touch things, yet things couldn’t touch you

The logic befuddled the genius turtle, but it seemed a lot of things as of late were defying logic and reason, don’t even get him started about the whole gravity situation by metro tower during the kraang invasion, some things just weren’t meant to be explained, he guessed he would have to classify it as magic: science that has yet to be understood.

“Y/n I think I’ve come up with an alternative method of experimentation,” Donnie said as soon as you floated into the lab, “but if this fails I have 36 new questions I would like to discuss.” His goggles come down looking real scientific, definitely meaning business as you held back a smile, his enthusiasm to learn knows no bounds!

Splinter

Splinter was used to the crazy weirdness of the world. So he wasn’t that shocked when his sons finally introduced you to him. You reminded him so much of the Hamato Clan legacy, how they too showed up in a similar form as yours, helping Splinter and his sons when they needed it most.

He didn’t mind your presence when you came to float by his recliner in the projector room. As time passed he came to accept you just like he had with April. “Hello friend #2” he’d smile, Hello Master Splinter~ you would reply. You would indulge him as he talked about his past and adventures as Lou Jitsu.

Sometimes late at night when the brothers were all asleep, you would float back into the room to see Splinter was still awake, on those nights he would talk to you about his worries, how he didn’t think he did a good job raising his sons, how he wished he could’ve done things better, he wished he would’ve thought more about them than himself..

Well, I think they turned out to be just fine, but I think you still have time! They may be teenagers but they still look up to you greatly! Splinter would nod, it would get quiet and he’d stare off at the projection, not paying much attention to the commercials. “Yes, I think that is what I shall do.”

“Don’t tell my sons, but you are my favorite.” Splinter said sneakily as he looked over the recliner to make sure neither Red nor Orange heard. Purple would be absolutely devastated. Blue probably not so much, though Splinter loved him, all his sons. Your secret’s safe with me you promised.

Raph

Raph would be skeptical about you at first, he didn’t have a good track record with beings from other places. Especially since they had finally recovered from the kraang. But with time he came around, realizing you were different, you meant no harm to them or the rest of humanity for that matter.

Though you did like to pull pranks with Leo, which Raph was a victim of plenty a times. Poor guy actually would let a high-pitched scream every time you would pop in to hang out with him. Raph may be the biggest and strongest, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fears. He hated scary movies and you resembled what he would call a ghost for a lack of a better term.

“AH! Oh- it’s you!” He’d breath out in relief as you smiled sheepishly. The whole lair would know whenever you tried to hang out with Raph. Which would mostly be when he was working out or training. One time when he had finished a particular brutal workout he had been too tired to pick up the weights.

I can help, you offered and floated over to the heaviest dumbbell. You picked it up with ease and floated over to where they were stored. All the while Raph’s mouth was gaping in complete shock. “You’re really strong!!” He gushed, the only other person who could lift that besides himself was Mikey when he was using his mystic abilities.

You didn’t have the heart to explain to Raph that it all came down to mental will, which as a reality shifter you had a lot of, so it just came down to how badly you wanted to pick up the weight. He watched as you quickly cleared up the rest, Raph would definitely be asking you to workout with him!

Mikey

Mikey was also afraid of you at first, but he came to trust you way more swiftly than Raph. He absolutely loved the idea of having a friend who was ready and waiting to hang out! He’d call out to you to do just about anything together. “Hey Y/n do you wanna watch me color? Look I made this for you yesterday!”

Wow Mikey, it’s gorgeous! Thank you so much you beamed as he added it to your designated pile since you didn’t have a place to put them. He would ask you if you wanted to watch him cook, or to watch videos with him, or if you wanted to go out to the surface together!

Mikey rarely wanted alone time, and if you weren’t hanging out with one of his brothers then you were there by Mikey’s side, listening to his rambling. One day he took you by surprise, turning to you, looking down as his fingers came together. “Y/n?” Yes Mike? “Do you think if I made a portal, I could reach your reality? Then maybe we could hangout.. for real?”

You listened intently, you knew of Mikey’s powerful abilities, his mystic energy was the greatest out of all his brothers. You had been drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Though that may be possible, I am perfectly happy with the way things are now… thank you for the offer though Sweet Mikey

You smiled at him as he looked up with a slight smile, sighing, “yeah you’re right things are fine this way,” he didn’t want to admit it to himself but it would probably take a lot out of him to make another portal so soon. As long as you were happy though Mikey wouldn’t do anything risky. “You just let me know if you change your mind Y/n, maybe Donnie could help too!”

April

Now you weren’t exactly the normal friend that April had been hoping for, but a new/astral projection/person was a friend nonetheless. During the day when the turtles were asleep you would hang out with April. She was very aware you were around during school, seeing you pull pranks inconspicuously.

Those pranks were mainly pulled on the students who gave April a hard time, aka bullies. They’d be bending down to use the water fountain and it would suddenly be spraying them in the face. You tried to keep it toned down since you didn’t want rumors of the high school being haunted spread around.

April would always shake her head saying she didn’t you to do that. But you could tell she secretly liked the thought of having a friend who wanted to stick up for her. Someone who could extract a little harmless vengeance. “Yo! Y/n you there?” April would be walking home from a long day at school and the sidewalks quieted down with little to no traffic. You would appear floating next to her, Yup! How was your day?

April rolled her eyes, like you didn’t already know every little detail. But she obliged, telling her point of view and how she was feeling, what she was looking forward to. “I’ll be heading to the boys later tonight, can you let them know for me?” You gave her a thumbs up and she waved goodbye as she entered her apartment complex.

[kasasagi-eye]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "kasasagi-eye "?

Okay this one is fun so here we go! Number one is pretty much set in stone, while 2 to 9 are just in the order they come to me AND are in the fandoms I've been enagged with in recent years, because I move fandoms a lot. Let's say that if I happened to be stranded somewhere with no Internet these are the fics I would like to have with me, at this moment.

desynchronization by Ontogenesis (hikaru no go, Ogata/Sei) It has: an amnesiac displaced out of time who was formerly a ghost and lots of relationship drama. I reread this pretty much every year. One of my favorite things about this is that while it is written in english, the characters' dialogues flow AS IF THEY WERE IN JAPANESE, and I can hear they actually say these senteces. Which to me is an amazing feat.

Game of Stacks by CommaSplice (GoT, multiple ships). Such a well-thought modern AU is hard to come by.

if living can be this by Lise (MDZS, songxuexiao). My fave Yi City redemption fic. Lise is one of my all time fave authors becuase of the excellent characterizaiton and dialogue; I orignally got hooked by their Steve/Loki works in Marvel fandom, which are also amazing.

This Side of Rain by Erinye (Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, squarejohn). I love this one for making me see the benefits of unlinear narrative, and what has to be one of the most agonizingly equisite description of pining in fiction.

Unwilling Sleep by Telanu (this author also has other pseodonyms but I don't remember them off the bat (Petshop of Horrors, Leon/Count D) It has: an immortal character becoming mortal, and all it entails.

Listerworld by Kahvi, Roadstergal (Red Dwarf, LIster/Rimmer). One of the most unique plots I've read, befitting the uniqueness of the source material. Also, pining.

The Most Important Thing by NorthenSparrow (Supernatural, destiel). All of their destiel works are amazing but this one has amnesia, which is one of my favorite tropes so ^^

Wizardry By Consent by Sixthlight (Rivers of London, Peter/Nightingale). I love all of this author's works in the fandom, amazing writing.

Не в нашей власти by Ликующий Октаэдр. (SVSSS, bingjiu) This fic is a bit longer than my preferred fic length, which is up to 200k words and moreover still ongoing, but manages to keep the (extremely well crafted) story interesting. Amazing bingjiu interactions.

Дождь и Ветер by Eswet (Nirvana in Fire, Prince Yu/Mei Changsu). A great redemption fic for my favorite evil prince and some proper food to ease the hunger for my favorite rarepair (71 works on AO3 including two paltry attempts of my own T_T) Honorable mentions go to many fics by esama in Hikaru no Go and Harry Potter fandoms out of which I cannot pick a single one, bingjiu fics by xpityx, The Lotus Eaters by aldora 89 (Kirk/Spock). oh wait and also A bit of Fragnance by Silvercistern (now orphaned because the author got harassed by f***ing antis in a different fandom), which is a great arranged marriage AU for Quan Yizhen/Yin Yu (TGCF). And --- I MUST HIT SEND ALREADY BECAUSE I COULD GO ON FOR HOURS TRUST ME (Oh wait you also asked about my nickname, so just a short explanation - Kasasagi means magpie in Japanese and it is how my writing works - I steal the shiny bits of everything I see (and read) and put them together.)

[snowyvoid]

I love your haunted siphonophore posting so much it's really good. I think it really fits with how the science team and the game and benrey all sort of play off of each other with Gordon always ending up as the victim/'food' but there's a slight dissonance between all of them. Benrey comes back as a skeleton and for the first night he just walks around and talks like normal until after Gordon wakes up where it seems to become it's own creature that is more tethered to the gamespace (I know it clips out and fucks with geometry but it also feels like it starts to slot into the role of 'spooky skeleton to antagonize and frighten the player' instead of 'benrey is around and talking to people when he's supposed to be dead'). Or how the world seems to bend to fit the insane things the Science Team says (Sunkist, Chuck E Cheese, Passport, etc) but Coomer is still seperate enough from the game that he becomes frightened and angry when he realizes that his world is small and painted. They all kind of group up into one thing, which is basically an elaborate bait and trap for Gordon, but there's tension between the individual pieces and they all have unique perspectives on what's happening despite playing into the same greater thing.

Sorry I'm having a hard time capturing exactly what you meant into this I get what you meant it's just. words are difficult. But your hlvrai thoughts make me insane

no this is like. exactly what i mean. you get it.

the thing about siphonophores is that each component of the organism has its own mouths. like. one component will be the stomach, one will make the organism swim, etc etc, but they all have their own mouths. they all feed.

and there is always this kind of dissonance between gordon and the others, and yes obviously he is the one playing a video game, but i always felt like it went deeper than hostile AI being weirded out by the new guy. it felt more,,, natural?? i guess??? it all feels set up on a stage. aside from the fact that its a game and it is has coded events. the AI, the thing that is suppose to think for itself, still seems kinda. within its own limits. stuck within the body of the facility. (for example, coomer and/or bubby freaking out when they go outside of the skybox/into space).

but the dissonance between the science team and the game/facility is!!! oh my godddd!!!! i could write an essay on that shit. so interesting. and i love that the dissonance is often physically manifested. your hatred towards this thing that you hate is real and will be seen and will affect the world outside you.

like. you have this thing, a large container that has events and ideas that are built into it (the game, the organism as a whole, the haunted house), and there are different components within this container that have some kind of symbiotic relationship (good or bad) with the outside container (black mesa, the individual nervous systems of the organism, the rooms/ghosts/humans haunting* the house), and all of these individual components has a manifestation of its difference or hostility (the science team, the individual mouths, the opinions each component of the haunted house has on each other (i need to make another post about this)).

sorry that was probably really complicated. i just needed to get it out of me because its all ive been thinking about since i made that first post.

*this is within the idea that the hypothetical house is haunted by something. which is generally the idea i go for when in reference to sentient AI, the whole this house had a purpose and it changed, this AI had a code and it was faulty. etc etc. pretty sure ive already posted something about that.

weird little mspaint diagram with some other ideas i have not talked about. note; this is not scientifically accurate to siphonophores. i just thought they were a really good allegory. you are definitely gonna need to zoom in for this thing. but it is important to the explanation i guess.

i just find it really fun to put obvious differences between characters/living things and see where they come together. like the science team, gordon, and benry are all separate beings in their own way but they are like a family. blah. hope you enjoy as always this is a bit messy.

[generalchelseamayhem]

Unpopular Opinion: "Men suffer from toxic (you know what goes here) and Women suffer from sexism" is a fancy way of saying women are allowed to snap from trauma, whereas men should blame themselves and make sure they're never a danger to anyone else.

And boy, does society love that last one. Victim blaming at its finest.

This ask hits kind of a personally relevant note for me, so apologies if this is longer than you expected.

I think there's some kind of logic behind this, like people will say this about a woman on the assumption that she has exhausted every possible avenue of help, and found no help forthcoming, whereas they will say the other thing about a man on the assumption that help has been offered to him and he flatly refused to take it. Men will do anything rather than go to therapy! etc. etc.

And I think what this misses is the ways that everyone, including these same people, can even unknowingly disincentivise men from actually getting help.

I haven't told anyone I know IRL about this, but yesterday, I started therapy. It's costing me money out of my own pocket because Medicare only covers about 65% of the full price of an appointment—and that's if you've already gone to a GP and paid more money to get a referral. I digress. The point is, every single one of my friends I opened up to about my problems was like "Dude. Seek help. Now." It kinda made me feel ashamed for opening up about my problems in the first place, to anyone other than a trained professional. Yes, there was also a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th place, so I can understand how it might have been hard to deal with, but the feeling remained.

Eventually, it reached the point where I could no longer justify my "self-improvement using only myself" regimen against my punishingly restrictive budget. Not only because my ability to cope reached an end, but because my budget finally got a bit more relaxed. So I listened to my friends and booked an appointment with my GP, then with a psychologist she referred me to.

First impressions are everything, and I have to be frank, I don't think I built much of a rapport with this guy. But the main issue was—

If you've ever had mental health issues, what's the one thing that always prevents you from seeking help?

Correct, that your problems are tiny and not worthy of consideration next to the grand scale of human suffering. Why should the psychologist be helping you, when there are actively suicidal people or people in prison or abuse survivors, all with way worse problems than you, whom he could be helping instead?

People around you will insist that all mental health struggles are valid, that there isn't, like, a minimum standard for how desperate you need to feel before you seek help.

I wasn't really sure how to start, so I just told him the story of what happened to me during the pandemic. The way my ex and I drifted apart, the way I sacrificed some of my needs during that time to make sure hers were met, the financial pressure I felt from my parents cajoling me into buying a house, other seemingly close friends (at least 3 of them?) ghosting me without the slightest explanation.

And all he could say at the end, when I'd run out of things to talk about, was "What do you want me to do here?"

I can understand why a question like that might be asked in therapy settings, but hearing it so bluntly like that... it genuinely made me feel like my problems were insignificant on a scale I hadn't imagined. It was said in a way that suggested there was nothing here for us to latch onto, nothing for us to improve upon, just me whining about stuff that happened ages ago. It hurt.

Obviously I didn't have much of an answer to give. If I knew what to do about the things that were making me feel sad, I would have done them myself without paying $60 for a middle-man to tell me to do them. Broadly speaking, I would like the bad feelings to go away and my awkward behaviour in certain situations to stop! Was that not obvious? You're the expert! If you listened to me talk for 40 minutes and you don't think there's a clear and obvious way forward, what does that say about the scope and severity of my problems?

I don't think I'll stick with this guy. My point here is, I think people should be a lot more careful about recommending therapy to men, because they can be so careless about dismissing men's problems out of hand with the other side of their mouth. Whether that takes the form of mocking people for male tears, or chastising them because women aren't your therapists and can't be expected to perform that kind of emotional labour, or any other of a number of subconscious biases that still insist "Your problems aren't actually real."

To be quite honest, I don't even think therapy will be a productive avenue for me. That kind of thing never factors into these conversations though, and I think that's because a lot of "men need therapy" discourse is entirely performative.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

congrats on the milestone!! i was wondering if you could do something with:

❎️ - fake dating

🔫 - hostage situation

🤕 - tending each other's wounds

🥸 - undercover

either Fem!Reader or GN!Reader is fine, whichever you prefer to write 🤗❤️

Hello and thank you! I hope this is ok, the fake dating element isn’t between reader and Spencer but this was where my brain took me!

Summary - four months ago your boyfriend Spencer disappeared off the face of the Earth, leaving your heart in pieces. And then you see him walking down the street hand in hand with his best friend JJ. But not everything is as it seems.

CW - angst with a happy ending, hostage situation, guns, violence, descriptions of injuries, vey brief mention of Maeve, hospitals, swearing.

WC - 4.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost of a Memory

Not my gif

❎️ - fake dating 

🔫 - hostage situation

🤕 - tending each other's wounds

🥸 - undercover

There was no way to sugarcoat it, being dumped sucked. Being dumped sucked even if you weren’t that into the person you were being dumped by. 

Being broken up with leads to deep internal questioning. 

What’s wrong with me? What did I do wrong? Could I have done anything differently? 

Our basic instinct after a break up tells us to blame ourselves, pick apart every facet of our personality to determine exactly where everything went wrong. 

We as humans demand questions to be answered, it helps on the road to closure. 

Being dumped surely sucks, there’s no arguing that. But what’s worse than being dumped? 

Being ghosted. 

At least when someone has the decency to break up with you, you’re offered some kind of explanation. Granted, it doesn’t always help. But it’s better than being completely cut off with zero answers as to why. 

You and Spencer had been dating for several months and you’d thought you were both on the same page. 

You’d fallen hard and fast for each other, almost at a dizzying speed. You’d already discussed your future together, he’d told you that you were the love of his life. 

Things had been perfect. Or so you’d he’d led you to believe.

And out of the blue four months ago, Spencer just disappeared off the face of the earth. 

He stopped answering his phone, he stopped replying to your texts. You even went to his apartment and frantically banged on the door for ten minutes but no one answered. 

Break ups were one thing, but you’d never had someone just vanish on you before. 

You worried he’d been hurt, you knew his line of work was dangerous. You tried to call Garcia who you’d become good friends with since Spencer introduced you. 

She was cagey. She wasn’t her usual bubbly self. She told you Spencer was fine but you had to let it go. And then she’d hung up on you. And despite your attempts to call her back, that was the last you spoke to her. 

Had you really been so naive, so stupid as to believe Spencer really loved you? He’d really made you think he was different from the assholes you’d dated in the past. He’d been so convincing, clearly he was just well practiced in the art of breaking hearts. 

You’d completely let your guards down, he’d lulled you into a false sense of security and like a fool, you’d fallen for it. 

You weren’t the love of his life. You were just another notch on his bedpost, he only kept you around until something better came along. 

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The heartbreak didn’t get any easier. At least if he’d been man enough to break up with you to your face you might have gotten some answers, some small semblance of closure. 

But ghosting you the way he had left you with so many whys. And it was so, so unfair. 

You cried yourself to sleep most nights, hoping and praying that he would call. 

But he never did. 

And you carried the pain of his sudden departure with you every single day. 

Spencer Reid had been the love of your life and he’d treated your heart like it was nothing but a toy. 

How did you even begin to pick up the pieces of the life he’d destroyed? 

***

It had been four months. Four months and eight days, not that you were counting or anything. 

Four months and eight days since you’d last seen him, when you’d woken up in your bed that morning and he was already awake, smiling at you. 

“You look so beautiful when you sleep.”  

His voice had been croaky like he’d just woken up himself. He’d stroked your messy hair off your face and kissed your lips softly. 

“Well, that’s not to say you don’t always look beautiful, because you do. But when you sleep…gosh I swear I fall more and more in love with you every time I look at you.”

That was one of the last things he’d said to you. Less than a minute later his phone rang, pulling you both from your bliss and calling him into work. 

He’d hurriedly dressed and wrapping a robe around yourself you’d followed him to the door. 

He held your face delicately in his hands as he kissed you again, lingering a little longer than he normally would. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man alive.” 

“I love you too, Spence. Now go save some lives.” 

He kissed you one last time and you watched from the doorway as he left. 

There had been no absolutely no indication that he hadn’t meant it. He’d seemed so genuinely in love with you, you had no reason to question it. 

But that was the last time you ever saw him. 

You played that morning over and over again on some kind of broken loop in your head for the past four months. 

It wormed its way to the surface now as you headed out of the coffee shop on your way to the metro. 

Just as you were about to take to the stairs down into the station, something caught your eye. 

On the other side of the street the back of a head with a familiar mop of unruly curls bounced as he walked in the opposite direction. 

Your chest constricted in an instant but it couldn’t be him could it? 

But what if it was? 

You forced your body to move, quickly dashing across the road and following the curly haired man. 

He was holding hands with a petite blonde and even from the back you were sure that petite blonde looked a lot like Jennifer Jareau. 

But JJ was married. You’d met Will and the kids and they seemed so happy together. 

Surely it had to be a coincidence that these two strangers looked like Spencer and JJ from behind. 

But before you could think better of it, you opened your mouth and called after him. 

“S-Spencer?” 

You saw his pace slow until he was at a complete stop, pulling JJ to a stop too. His back straightened as though your voice had sent a steel rod right through his spine. 

He turned around so slowly you barely realised he was moving, dropping his hold on JJ’s hand. 

When he finally faced you, you saw him swallow and some brief emotion flickered in his eyes but it was gone too fast for you to read what it was. 

He looked just like you remembered him that morning, messy haired with a slight hint of stubble grazing his jaw. 

He wasn’t wearing one of his signature Spencer outfits which threw you through a loop. He wore a black button up with the top few buttons undone but no tie or cardigan and he was wearing jeans. 

Spencer Reid was wearing jeans and holding hands with his married colleague. 

Have you entered the twilight zone? 

“Spencer?” You croaked again when he didn’t speak. 

You noticed him swallow again, composing himself before  he finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you? My name isn’t…I’m not…”

JJ’s hand lightly brushed his arm and it made your stomach turn. 

But that was nothing compared to the way he was looking at you like you were a complete stranger. 

You glanced at JJ who only looked at Spencer, a reassuring look in her eyes.

“What is happening?” You felt tears brimming in your eyes. “Not only have you ghosted me for four months, you’re now pretending you didn’t know me at all? And what are you doing with JJ? She’s married! I met her husband!” 

“Look I’m sorry if you think you know me but you’re confused, ok? I’m not who you think I am and you-“

“Stop it! I’m not an idiot, Spencer!” You cut him off, your voice raising of its own accord. “Jennifer, what is happening?”

JJ looked at you and you saw the guilt that quickly passed by her ice blue eyes before she had a chance to correct herself. 

“Someone say something!” You practically yelled. “Spencer, how can you stand there and pretend you don’t know me? Do you know how much that hurts? Someone please for the love of god, say something!” 

And someone did say something. It just wasn’t Spencer or JJ.

You’d been so hyper focused on them you hadn’t noticed a man appearing from behind them until it was too late. You didn’t notice your company until a large hand was slapped down onto Spencer’s shoulder and another on JJ’s.

“Who the fuck are Spencer and JJ?” He growled and you couldn’t miss the fear that suddenly washed over Spencer and JJ. 

“It’s a misunderstanding.” JJ composed herself quickly. 

“Bullshit it is.” The man gripped her shoulder tightly. “You’ve been lying to us? “ 

You were frozen in fear and confusion. Spencer looked at you and you swore you saw him mouth “I’m sorry.” 

Everything after that happened in a blur. 

A strong set of hands suddenly grasped your shoulders and you felt the barrel of a gun pressing against your lower back. 

A harsh voice spat in your ear, “scream and you die.” 

The three of you were hurried down the street by the two men and forcibly shoved into the back of a white van. 

And then something clamped over your mouth and the last thing you remember was looking into Spencer’s terrified eyes as the smell of chloroform filled your nose.

***

The next thing you were consciously aware of was the distant sound of voices. Or maybe they weren’t distant, just quiet? 

You blinked a few times to try and focus on the dark room you found yourself in. Your head was pounding and there was an ache spreading in your wrists. 

You tried to move them to no avail and a few more blinks got your brain working enough to realise you were bound to a chair. 

The quiet muttering continued and you moved your head from side to side to try and work out where it was coming from. 

The room was dark and damp and a shiver passed up your spine. There was a small sliver of light coming in from a window above you but it didn’t do much to help you work out your surroundings. 

The voices were becoming clearer and you focused your attention towards the sound. 

To your left you could see two more figures strapped to chairs the same as you assumed your own to be. 

“S-Spencer? JJ?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, like you’d been asleep for days. You only realised then how dry your mouth was.

You were met by a stretch of silence and you wondered if maybe it wasn’t them. 

But you could just make out the silhouette of those messy curls you loved so much. 

“Yeah we’re here Y/N.” Spencer sighed. “Are you hurt?”

You wished you could see him properly. You had so many questions your brain whirred. 

“Uh…I’m not sure. My head hurts but uhm…I don’t know. Are you?” 

Spencer took a few deep breaths to stem his tears knowing he was going to have to lie to you yet again. If you knew how hurt he was you would panic. He couldn’t have you panicking. 

“No, I’m fine. So is JJ.” It wasn’t all a lie, for all intents and purposes JJ was much less scathed than he was. 

“We’re going to get out of here Y/N you just have to stay calm.” JJ spoke now as if to prove she was in fact ok. 

“Where is here? What the hell is going on?” 

“It’s…complicated. You just need to trust me ok?” Spencer internalised his whimpers of pain. 

If truth be told every breath, every word caused his body to howl in agony and he knew it was likely he might pass out due to the extent of it. 

But he had to stay conscious. If only to save you. 

“Trust you?” You spat. “Trust you? How the fuck am I supposed to trust you after everything you’ve done?” 

“I know. I know.” He couldn’t hide the sob that escaped his lungs. “I know and I’m sorry. But I really can’t explain right now. Just please Y/N, if you ever loved me, please trust me.” 

You didn’t want to trust him, but the pain in his voice told you there was way more to this story than you knew. 

He’d broken your heart, disappeared off the face of the earth so you had every right not to trust him. 

But you did. 

“O-ok.” You croaked. “But you owe me an explanation.”

“I know and I promise you’ll get one.” He clenched his jaw to suppress another sob. 

You would get one if he could get you out of here alive. 

But with the extent of pain coursing through his body, his brain was becoming hazy. And he feared he wouldn’t be able to deduce a way out of here fast enough. 

***

You had no idea how much time passed. Sitting in a dark room with no stimuli aside from the quiet muttering between Spencer and JJ, time became irrelevant. 

At some point the sound of a door being flung open filled the room and you gasped a little in surprise. 

Heavy boots thudded down the staircase and you tried to stop the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. 

“So you’re fucking feds, huh?” The voice boomed around the room, causing you to whimper at the timbre of it. 

All of sudden, light flooded the room in the form of some overhead strip lights. 

The light blinded you momentarily and you had to blink several times to focus your eyes to the intrusion.

When your eyes landed on Spencer a few feet in front of you, you gasped loudly and your tears overflowed. 

His messy hair was stuck to his forehead with blood, dripping and oozing from a wound somewhere near his hairline. 

His nose was undoubtedly broken, bruised with a dried blood stain from his nostril to his top lip. His left cheek sported a dark bluish purple bruise also. 

His shirt was covered in dirt and blood ripped in places and you were sure you made out boot impressions across the fabric from where he’d been kicked repeatedly. He was bleeding profusely from a wound in his left thigh, soaking through his jeans and into a puddle at his feet. 

JJ had a few cuts and bruises on her face but aside from that she seemed like she’d fared much better than Spencer. You could only imagine the lengths he would have gone through to protect her from a beating. 

“We are, she isn’t.” Spencer groaned as he spoke, seeing no point in hiding his pain now you could see him. “She has nothing to do with this.” 

“Bullshit. You’ve been lying to me for months, you think I’m going to believe anything you say now?” the man spat angrily, advancing towards you which caused you to whimper pathetically.

“Please, please don’t hurt her.” Spencer whined, watching the man grab you by your hair and yank your head backwards, powerless to do anything to stop him. 

Spencer was trying to free himself from his restraints but he was pretty certain his right arm was broken in at least two places and every time he moved it shot pain through his whole body.

He had a gun sheathed in an ankle holster, if he could just get his arms free…

“Fucking feds, you all deserve to die!” when the man produced a blade from the back of his pants and held it to your throat, you sobbed loudly, pleading with Spencer to help you although you knew there was nothing he could do. 

“Please listen to me.” Spencer tried to keep his voice levelled. “We lied to you, yes. We are SSA’s Reid and Jareau with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. But she has nothing to do with any of this. She’s not on the job, she’s an innocent bystander.” 

Fuck these fucking restraints, Spencer was never getting out of them. He was never going to be able to save you. 

It felt like Maeve all over again. He couldn’t watch someone else he loved die. He just couldn’t. 

“Liars, the fucking lot of you.”

“Why would we lie? We admitted we’re FBI, why would we lie and say she isn’t if she was?” JJ spoke up now. 

The man frowned at her, clearly not having an answer to that. He still held you by your hair, pressing the blade against your throat. 

You were sobbing, completely terrified that this was how you were going to die. You were going to die with no understanding of why, of how you’d ended up here. 

The man focused his attention on you, pressing the blade harder against you but not enough to break the skin. Not yet anyway. 

JJ took the opportunity and ran with it. She’d managed to use a sharp edge of her wedding ring to slowly rip through the duct tape on one of her wrists. 

“Please,” you begged with a sob. “Please let us go.” 

She knew Spencer kept a gun hidden at his ankle at all times. Leaning forward in the chair she was just able to reach Spencer’s ankle after he shuffled his leg a little closer to her. A few more inches and she would have been out of reach.

“Shut up, begging will get you nowhere.” he growled at you, tugging your hair sharply again. “Let this be a lesson to the FBI, you can’t outsmart me.”  

He grinned menacingly at you before glancing back up at the agents. 

And he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. 

“Put your hands up.” JJ spat, yielding the firearm. 

Her right wrist was still secured to the chair and she was right handed so holding the gun in her left was a little daunting. She hoped she could still shoot as well. 

The man wasn’t scared, he merely chuckled. He dropped his hold on your hair, removed the knife from your throat and took a few steps towards JJ. 

“You think I’m just going to give up without a fight? You think I couldn’t stab your friend here before you shot me?” he held the blade to Spencer’s throat now but Spencer didn’t even seem phased. 

“Put the knife down and no one has to die.” JJ shifted her focus, keeping the gun trained on him. 

Once again everything seemed to happen in blur. 

The sound of flesh being sliced by the sharp blade pierced your ears, followed swiftly by the sound of two gunshots in quick succession. 

The man fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood, knife crashing down on the wooden floor.

“Fuck, Spence!” JJ dropped the gun and shuffled in the chair she was still attached towards her friend. 

His eyes fluttered open and closed as blood coursed from his open neck wound. 

JJ freed herself from her other restraint and threw off her jacket, pressing it to Spencer’s neck. 

“Stay with me Spence!” She grabbed the knife from the floor where it lay next to the corpse with her free hand. 

She slashed through Spencer’s duct taped wrists and guided one of his hands to the jacket now soaking up his blood. 

You just stared on, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs you barely heard JJ’s voice.

“Hold that for two seconds, Spence, ok?” 

She quickly darted towards you and made fast work of cutting you free of your restraints. 

“Check the guy's pockets for a phone. Call 911, now.” She told you sternly before rushing back to Spencer who was barely conscious. 

She applied pressure with the jacket, desperate to stop the bleeding. The only saving grace was she was pretty certain the cut hadn’t severed his artery. If help got here soon, he might be ok. 

You were still sitting in the chair staring dumbly at JJ and Spencer. JJ glanced back at you.

“Y/N I know this is scary but if you don’t find a phone and call 911, Spencer is going to die. You can be scared later, right now I need you to focus.” her voice was oddly calm and you had no idea how she wasn’t panicking. 

Years of FBI training you supposed. 

You knew she was right, the longer you sat here like a spare part, the less chance Spencer had of survival. 

You forced yourself up and you were sobbing in terror when you searched the dead mans pockets for a cellphone. You went into autopilot. Later you would barely remember the moments that followed, the calling of 911 and JJ’s desperate attempts to keep her best friend alive. 

At some point the throbbing in your head got too much and you felt dizzy. The last thing you remembered was hanging up the phone and crashing to the dirty ground as everything went dark.

***

You awoke in a hospital bed, having received seven stitches in your hairline and being treated for a possible concussion. You had a couple of other superficial wounds on your face and one on your arm which had been bandaged. But you didn’t care. All you cared about was Spencer. 

JJ came by your room and informed you he was in surgery. As well as his potentially life threatening neck wound he also had a broken nose, five broken ribs, his right arm was broken in two places which they hoped to set in surgery and he had a stab wound in his left thigh that needed seeing to also. 

He was either going to die from one of multiple injuries or he was going to miraculously survive, making him the luckiest man alive. 

The next few hours were excruciating. It seemed almost inconceivable that he would live through what he’d suffered today. And if he didn’t make it, it would only leave you with even more questions than you’d had this morning. 

You were discharged but didn’t go far, sitting vigil in the hospital waiting area alongside JJ and Luke who you’d met a handful of times. None of you said a word. 

The stress of the day caught up with you and somehow you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew you were being gently shaken back into consciousness. 

You blinked a few times, trying to focus on the dark brown eyes staring at you. 

“Y/N,” Luke shook you a little. “Y/N, he’s out of surgery and he’s awake. He wants to see you.” 

Awake. Spencer was awake. 

Spencer was alive and he wanted to see you. But why did that thought suddenly fill you with dread? 

You’d been wracking your brain for four months as to where things had gone wrong for you and Spencer. But maybe you’d prefer not to know. 

Did you really want to subject yourself to listening to him tell you he simply didn’t love you anymore? That he was too much of a coward to tell you at the time? 

But after everything he’d been through today, you supposed you owed it to him to hear him out. 

You let Luke lead you to his room and he gave you a sympathetic smile before leaving you in the corridor. 

You took a few deep breaths to calm your rattled nerves before you stepped inside but it was redundant. Because the second you laid eyes on him your tears broke free. 

His neck was profusely bandaged and he had stitches similar to yours in his forehead. He had splints either side of his nose clearly holding the fixture in place. 

His arm was in a sling and he was hooked up to an IV. He smiled shakily at you as you cautiously approached him. 

“I don’t look that bad do I?” He tried to joke but you didn’t think anything about this was funny. 

“Does it hurt?” You asked stupidly, stepping closer to his bedside. 

“Only when I think about it.” He shrugged. “I guess I have some things to explain to you. Come here, sit with me.” 

Spencer shuffled in the bed and patted the mattress for you to sit. You cautiously sat in the free space and he immediately took hold of your hand. 

You felt a fire infinite inside of you at his touch, it had been so long. But he’d just disappeared, ghosted you, and you were still so hurt. 

“I got a call about a case that morning at your apartment. My team and I had been tracking this group for a long time. They abducted married couples, stand up members of society, and forced them to run drugs for them and if they didn’t do exactly as they were told they were brutally murdered. 

We caught a break in the case, found a way in. JJ and I were close in age to all the previous couples that had been abducted previously so Emily thought our best chance of getting close to them, to finding the ring leader, was to send us undercover. As a married couple. 

I wanted to call you, I begged and pleaded with Emily to let me call you but it’s against protocol. JJ was able to tell Will because when you marry an FBI agent you have to sign all kinds of non-disclosures so he was legally allowed to know. You have to understand it killed me every single day to think of how much you must be hurting. I’m so, so sorry I put you through that.” 

You were both crying now and Spencer moved his hand to your cheek and gently brushed his fingertips over the bandage on your head. 

“I-I blew your cover.” You sobbed as the realisation set in. 

“It’s ok. Luke told me they ID’d the man JJ shot in the basement as the guy calling the shots. He’s dead. And several other of his men have now been arrested. It’s over. God I’m so sorry Y/N, I can’t imagine what these last four months have been like for you.” 

You nuzzled into his hand, trying to quell your sobs. He wiped your tear stains with his thumb.

Out of nowhere you gently rested your hand on the bandages on the side of his neck. 

“I thought you were going to die.” Your lip quivered. 

“Truthfully, so did I.” He confessed. “I always thought my life would flash before my eyes, you know? I’ve come close to death before, a really long time ago and that time my life did flash before my eyes. But this time…all I saw was you. So I guess my life kind of did flash before my eyes…because you are my life. I will do whatever it takes for you to forgive me Y/N. I can’t lose you again.” 

“You hurt me so badly, the pain you caused me was far worse than anything that man could have done to me. But it wasn’t your fault. You were doing your job, trying to save lives. I can’t be mad at you for that. And besides, someone’s going to have to look after you while you heel.” 

Spencer’s lip turned up at the corner despite the fact his tears were still flowing. 

“You’re going to nurse me back to health? I thought I was the doctor.” He teased, cupping the back of your head in his good hand. 

“On the condition you never disappear on me again, Spencer Reid. Being ghosted sucks.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you let Spencer pull you closer to him. 

“Trust me when I say, nothing is ever going to get in our way again. You’re my whole world, Y/N. I love you so, so much.” 

“I love you too, Spencer.” You let him pull you even closer until your lips met in an explosion of emotions. 

You thought the ghost of Spencer Reid would always linger in your memories. But his lips pressed against your felt like the exorcism you so sorely needed. And you knew you’d never be haunted again. 

[katiek101]

You mentioned your Fireheart ghost AU will have like a Fire/Sand sibling dynamic? I was just wondering what that looks like for them!

The other warriors snicker as Fireheart is followed out of camp by a trail of rowdy apprentices, and for her snickering, Fireheart ropes Sandstorm into coming with them.

“Building your case to mentor one of the kits?” Sandstorm asks as they lead the way to the sandy hollow. Cinderpaw follows quietly on their tails, while Swiftpaw and Lynxpaw take swipes at each other in the back.

“Not really,” Fireheart replies. “But if it works then I won’t complain.”

“Fernkit, Ashkit, and Mistlekit,” Sandstorm counts. “One for you, one for me, and one for Dustpelt.”

Fireheart snorts. “As if Bluestar would give Dustpelt an apprentice over Graystripe. He’s almost more impatient than Runningwind.”

“Maybe, but we all know that if Bluestar gives any of us fresh-meat an apprentice then it’ll be you, and Dustpelt would throw a fit if you got to mentor an apprentice before him.”

“Then maybe Dustpelt shouldn’t have such a bad attitude all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Sandstorm disagrees. “Only whenever you’re around.”

Fireheart shoots Sandstorm a half-hearted glare. Looking back it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment she decided to morph their rivalry into a friendly rivalry, and Fireheart suspects that Whitestorm had something to do with it. Whatever magic Whitestorm worked, though, apparently did not extend to Dustpelt.

“Because I’m a kittypet,” Fireheart says, sounding bitter.

“I mean, it’s not that simple, but sure.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

Sandstorm shrugs. “You joined the day his mentor was murdered so he was already grieving, and then he was reassigned to Darkstripe and he ended up spending a lot of time around Tigerclaw and Longtail who basically make up your entire fan club--”

“Okay, I get it,” Fireheart interrupts. “You’re saying he was brainwashed.”

“I’m saying your mentor has a lot to do with who you become,” Sandstorm retorts. Somehow that feels like the theme of the day.

A star mentored a star mentored a star, remembers Fireheart. He wonders what Whitestorm’s father, Tigerclaw’s mentor, was like. He wonders if he can ask the elders about it without seeming suspicious.

Sandstorm takes his contemplative silence as brooding and suggests, “You know, there is an alternative explanation. Maybe Dustpelt is like, secretly madly in love with you and he loathes himself for it.”

Fireheart cuts Sandstorm a glare. “Quit joking.”

[megaawkwardhuman]

hello hi hey I'm icarus (but I'm also fine with virgo) and welcome to my blog!

idkf how you got here but uhhh congrats?

also sorry if parts of the gif look weird idfk how to fix it

I'm a neurodivergent artist who talks about gay vampires (wwdits) a lot!

I do have other interests tho like ofmd, good omens, hannibal, re-animator, interview with the vampire, watcher, the band ghost, the world of mr plant, and south park (it's just that wwdits is just what I think about the most)

things I've made:

I've written a few fic before and one can be found on my blog! it's a post season 4 nandermo fic and here's a link if you wanna check it out :)

as for the rest can be found on my ao3 here! (I'm not going to move the post season 4 fic there mainly cause idk if I really wanna)

I made a uquiz a few months ago that basically tells you what you would be if you where in the wwdits universe (a vampire, a familiar. an energy vampire etc)

I have an instagram that I just post my art to and that's really it

things I like to make:

as you can probably gather by now I primarily do pixel art but I also like to doodle/sketch with good old pencil and paper

I make a LOT of kandi (primarily singles) buuut I don't really post it on here (I mean unless someone asks me to I'm more than willing to share)

I kinda write? like I've written fics before and I DO have a bunch of wips but it's kinda hard for me to finish a fic due to the fact that I get distracted easily and the fact that I'm really dyslexic (you have no idea how badly I wanna fist fight the english language in a denny's parking lot at 3am)

oh while it's not a medium or anything but I'd like to mention I LOVE to draw characters from the media I like as pastel bunnies! (tho at this current moment it's primarily wwdits characters I draw) is it weird? yeah but I like to so I'm not stopping anytime soon if you want a rough explanation as to why I made a long post about it

fav characters:

guillermo de la cruz from wwdits (seriously I'm fucking feral for this man he's my top blorbo atm! he has my gender in a chokehold and I relate to him A LOT also harvey guillen is just really fucking hot-)

nandor the relentless also from wwdits (not as crazy about him but like he fascinates me and I love his goofy cringefail vibes... HE'S ALSO REALLY HOT-)

dib from invader zim (while I haven't watched invader zim in a while I still consider dib to be a fav! hell he's my fucking profile pic. he's one of the first ever characters in something I've seen that I've related to)

stede from ofmd (he's a huge fucking mood and I too jump into things head first without any plans whatsoever)

argos from twomp (a new addition to my fav character list since I stumbled upon twomp more recently. idk I just like him like go googly eye man date that murderous plant dude! wow that must sound weird to those who don't know what the world of mr plant is XD. it also might have to do with the fact that he's kinda socially awkward)

mr plant from twomp (another new addition. idfk something about that murderous plant I find oddly relatable? I think it's the fact that he's also socially awkward. arguably more than argos)

herbert west from re-animator (idk I think this autistic man with no care for ethics is neat)

I have more but for now those are the ones I'm gonna list :)

other shit:

as I've already said I have dyslexia, I possibly have ADHD (never officially diagnosed buuuuut really fucking confident I do and a past therapist said I most likely do), I keep running into situations where I question if I have autism or not so take that as you will, and despite what it may seem I have really REALLY bad social anxiety (well I have overall anxiety too but let's just say there's a reason I spend a lot of time online and not out and about)

asks as you can already tell are open

DMs are also open (tho I will say it's mainly to mutuals)

WARNING I KEYBOARD SMASH A LOT!

nandermo shipper but I'm fine with other ships involving the two :)

overall I try to be nice on here cuz there's enough negativity out there why add to it? tho key word here is try (I've gone on small rants here before and there's the possibility I will again)

I really REALLY fucking love bats and frogs THEY'RE JUST LITTLE GUYS HOW CAN I NOT?

there will be moments where for one reason or another (sleep deprived, sad, bored, it's a tueday, etc etc) I'll be reminded that oh yeah I fucking love frogs and will just start spam reblogging frog posts so be warned if you see me reblog a frog photo and read the words frog blogging or frog posting in the tags run while you still can (or don't cuz frogs are the best and need to be loved and cherished)

tag stuff:

misc thoughts/ideas/this tag is mainly random shit: throwing up my thoughts onto tumblr again

theories/meta/looking too much into small stuff: word garbage™

answering asks: answering stuff

my art: *funny tag for my art*

bunny art related posts: bun stuff

mothman memo related posts: mothman memo stuff

fanfics I've written: gather around and lend me your time

edits I've made: edit shmedit

memes I've made: brought to you by ms paint

show + tags thing: + tags

all the weekly wwdits sparkle on images: sparkle on it's gay vamp day!!!

posts that involve irl friends of mine: friend chaos

follow for a fuck ton of reblogs, art, and long tangents about whatever takes over my mind atm

thanks for reading, have a nice day, and remember: baby bats are called pups

this has nothing to do with this post I just thought this was important info plus I just wanted to throw in this cute bat image I found on google

[sarahblueskyyyy]

Drippin'

MDNI! Ghost x Soap, romance, drama, smut, vaginal sex, trans male character, boy pussy, healthy relationship, creampie, mask kink, cunnilingus, etc.

Original idea by JAYK (@18ksae) on Twitter! Beautiful, beautiful brain of yours, I love you. Enjoy, all of you!

[“Uh … we probably need to talk to Price, huh?” “Oh.” Ghost yawned, resting his eyes for a little bit. “He knows.” “He—what? Wait. Does this mean—wait, does he know we are fucking right now?”]

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish didn’t remember what ignited the fire. As soon as he realized, it was already fucking burning, casted out his sanity and capability of thinking straight. Or maybe, he already knew the reason, but he simply turned away his face.

Because, for the love of any God that might have been existed—the feeling washed over him like a tsunami, drown him in this cliché, corny thing called love. He looks at Simon “Ghost” Riley and all he could think about is how the Lieutenant becomes the reason every time his heartbeats increasing so hard as if it’s ready to jump out of his ribs.

Ghost confronted him one day, asking about his obvious weird behaviours, “Johnny, you okay?”

Soap just smiled that day, nodding. The unspoken issues were a pandora box—better left untouched or just throw it away once and for all, let it sink somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

Because—loving your superior and makes him the object of your desire, whispering his name when the dark engulfs the world, and each day more often than not; your fingers wrapped around your cock, thinking about him … are not a wise choice at all.

Soap gave Ghost the reassurance he wanted, “‘m fine, L.t. Did my job well, didn’t I?”

“Well, you did,” Ghost responded. “But your eyes have been wondering like it doesn’t fuckin’ know where its own socket eyes.”

Soap laughed lightly. He loves the way Ghost voiced his concern through a pinch of a humour—just like always.

That’s because I didn’t know where to look, Soap thought to himself. All I want to do is lookin’ at you.

“I’m fine, really!” Soap gave the brown-eyed man a pat in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, L.t.”

The conversation ended just like that.

But, Soap knew, Ghost knew—rather sooner than later, they might need to address this.

Although, Soap doesn’t allow himself to be questioned—he does things perfectly, flawlessly, in every way, not leaving room for any defect. He does his job extremely well—a demolition expert, they say. Sweeping an area, reaches every corner, a lethal shot for every enemy.

And that’s where the problem started. The more precise he is with his work, the less reason for Ghost to talk to him. To hold him off a little bit longer when debrief. To give advices and suggestions and any other of that bullshits that he actually, admittedly (albeit hesitantly), likes to give.

So, on a random night, under a clear dark sky, filled with the scattered pieces of shiny stars—Ghost confronted the sky-coloured eyed man. He grabbed Soap’s wrist, dragging him across the hall—hell if people were staring. They knew better than fucking spreading rumors or trash talk about a man whose callsign is Ghost.

“Fuck, Ghost—what’s wrong with you?” Soap asked, raising his voice a little. The confusion, the uneasy, were loud and clear, eating away his collectedness in mere seconds.

Ghost slammed the door behind him, locked it. He took a deep breath, then let it go, before finally his gruff, low voice, dominated the quiet room, “Okay, fuckin’ spit it out, Soap.”

“Spit what out?!” Soap was desperately trying to calm himself and within a short moment, he delivered his answer with dripping exasperation, “Ghost, you draggin’ me here straight after the debrief. People see us, Price sees us. He’s gonna demand for a fuckin’ explanation and I don’t even owe him one.”

“Just—,” Ghost let out a ragged breath. “Johnny, I swear—I realize you’re avoiding me. I know you are. My only question is; why? At least give me some arguments, some pointers—so the next time you run away at the sight of me, I’d understand.”

Soap stammered. His fist was formed, he pressed his own forehead with it. He’s a fucking idiot, isn’t he?

“It’s not your fault. It’s—fuck, I have no intention of running away at the sight of you.”

It’s the other way around. It’s the fucking—opposite of it.

“Yeah, of course,” Ghost retorted. “Because you avertin’ your eyes every time you see me is a nice fuckin’ gesture, right?”

“Fuck, Simon,” Soap called. “I—I can’t, I don’t know how to explain it to you!”

“Literally, just say the words.”

“It’s not that easy!”

“I’m not asking to make it easier!” This time, the man with the skull mask snapped back. His voice cracked, a manifestation of how every little emotion enveloped his very being. All the anger, the silent affection, the worriedness—everything. “I’m asking to understand. I’m asking because I want to know, because it’s fuckin’ you. I don’t even understand why that thick head of yours is so hesitating.”

Soap didn’t realize his mouth was agape. His lips dry and his tongue was sour. However, the undeniable fast heartbeats were slowly crawling in.

“I like you, Simon.”

Ghost blinked. “I like you too?”

“Jesus fuckin’—I love you.” Soap’s footsteps were bringing him closer to Ghost. In every step, his resolution, his sense of responsibility, his calmness—were crumbling, left him with nothing but one absolute, pure feeling he has been experiencing. “I love you the way a man to his woman. I—fuck, I fell for you so hard my eyes follow you everywhere. Notice your every move, the way you absorbed in your work, using that authority, leadership quality of yours—I love it all. I fuckin’ fantasize about you, masturbate at the thought of you, my head is in a fuckin’ gutter and I’m not proud of it but I can’t help it because I love you! That’s the kind of like I am talking about.”

Ghost looked at him quietly, calmly, like a tranquil surface of a water in a glass. “Johnny.” The name ringing tenderly on the end of his tongue. “When I said I like you, that’s what I fuckin’ mean.”

This time, it’s Soap’s turn to blinked like a damn frog on top of a waterlilies.

Ghost sighed. He tilting his head a little. “Should’ve been talking about this long time ago.”

Soap, the lad’s poor brain—was still processing things. When he finally wrapped his head around it, fully acquiring the information and let it soaked in his mind, he let out a low, breathy, “Oh.”

“Mh-hmnn …,” Ghost hummed. He extended his hand, his thumb caressed Soap’s jaw, before lifting it slowly. Blue and brown orbs reflected each other. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it. But your fuckin’ attitude pisses me off, so emotion got the best of me. ‘M sorry.”

“Fuck, no! I’m sorry. God, Jesus Christ—I’m a fuckin’ daft, aren’t I?”

“Well, not denying that.”

Soap chuckled. “Fuck off.”

Ghost smiled. No one would be able to see it behind the mask he was wearing—but he knew Soap could.

“What do we do now, Sergeant?”

“Oh, no, don’t fuckin’ call me that …,” Soap groaned.

“Okay, love.”

“Simon, you are fuckin’ insufferable!”

Another light-hearted laugh. Ghost waited for a few seconds. There was an ambivalence in his mind. A scale with two choices, indirectly mocking his decision-making ability. However, his heart was swelling—in a good way. His chest felt light and as if every dilemma had been extinguished, now he selfishly wanting more; craving for more.

Even though his logic knew better—his heart yearning for him.

“Johnny.” Ghost looked at the man in his eyes. “If you—if I’m still the object of your desires ….”

He purposely stopping his sentence in the air. Soap widened his eyes. If that wasn’t an invitation, if that wasn’t a genuine plead—then he doesn’t truly know what does a plead means.

“Fuck, yes, Simon,” Soap answered.

Ghost scoffed at the eagerness. He knew—both of them were hanging on a fucking spider thread; ready to fall anytime, to a deep, dark, gorge of impulses. Of arousal and passion to claim each other, mutual feeling of possessiveness.

“C’mere.” Ghost pulled away his mask a little—lifting it up to his nose, exposing his mouth.

He cupped the sergeant’s jaw, bringing it closer, pulling him into a kiss. He was tilting his head, searching for a better angle, making sure both lips fit perfectly into each other, melting together.

Soap groaned, struggling to be softer as he intended to do. He put his palm on Ghost’s nape, pressing it. His tongue licking every spot inside the Lieutenant’s mouth. The kiss was wet, a little bit rough—a clicking, wet sounds, echoing around the walls.

He thought to himself—how he just realized how starving he was for this man. How every inch of him longing to be with him, to touch him, to melt him under his touch.

“Simon, fuck,” Soap whimpered. He could feel the arousal threatening him, blood rushes to his cock, making his pants tighter in every second that passed. “I want to taste you. Let me taste you.”

“Mh-hmnn.” Ghost nodded. His whole body trembled at the thought of that. His lower stomach already full of tingling sensation, spreading out to the tips of his fingers. “Lie down on the bed.”

Soap did as he told. His instinct to comply was working faster than any other sense. He lied down on his back, as he watched Ghost taking off his remaining gear. The strap, the unnecessary pouch, the belt, until eventually he unzipped his pants, shoving them down to his ankles together with his boxer and all, left him bare.

Soap almost choked on air when his eyes drafting below, to the hips area, a little lower, seeing a trail of pubic hair was created from the navel until the top of Ghost’s cunt.

“Fucking—Simon, fuck, you fucker, bastard. You never told me about this.”

“Right, not really a lunch topic. Enthusiastic?”

“Yes, fuckin’—yes. Just—fuckin’ come here. Please.”

Ghost carved a smirk on his lips. Fully satisfied by the reactions of his sergeant—and part of him was so turned on. He got on the top of Soap, widening his thighs, rested his knees on each side of Soap’s shoulders.

Soap gulped, latched his palms on Ghost’s arses. His head spinning in a way it needs an immediate endorphin, oxytocin release—or whatever that chemistry shit.

“Fuck, okay—can I … can I touch it?”

“Whatever you want, Johnny.”

Fuck. Ghost knew to well of to stir him up, leave him a mess. Johnny groaned, using his thumbs to softly rub the vulva. Already wet—drenched in glistening, clear liquid. The clit was erect, sheepishly showing itself between the outer lips of the entrance.

“So fuckin’ soaked ….”

He pushed a finger up to his cunt, elicit a stifled moan from Ghost.

“Simon …,” Soap whined. He didn’t even bother to hide the excitement, the built-up pressure on his sex.

His fingers probing the inside of that clenching muscles, and in every stretching move he made, Ghost twitched. The Lieutenant’s breath getting more huskier, lower.

“Sit on me,” Soap said. He pulled out his fingers. Still, his eyes directed at the puffy sex, unable to look away. “I need you. Please.”

“Fuckin’—greedy man.” Ghost obeyed the request. Soap was asking nicely after all. He lowered his hips, pressing half of his height on that face. His core was heated up when he felt Soap’s breath caressed his sex. He silently watched how his own cunt met Soap’s lips. The way Soap’s drew out his tongue, slipped between the labia, taste the slope of his entrance.

And wave of pleasure hit Ghost—like a storm that is brewing so suddenly, like a typhoon whirling for a while and now ready to make a foray on everything it touches.

“Fuck!” Ghost arched his back, his inner wall was pulsating, hard, intense. Clenching on air as Soap lapping on his quim like a dog with his fresh meat, enthralled by the smell, gnawing on the soft, silky textures. Soap was grabbing Ghost’s thighs, deterred him from closing those.

“Ahh—Johnny!” Ghost groaned. He whined, he was fucking whimpering—and Johnny never heard that before. Every sound that filled his ear drums making his dick harder it was almost painful. The pants suffocated it and God—he could do this all night, assault on the needy, swollen clit, biting softly, sucking on his sex.

Ghost’s knees were too weak to hold his body. His core was throbbing when Soap flicked his nub with the tongue, enforcing something urgent, something burning inside him. The tongue swiped across his pussy, from the back near anal, up until the sensitive nub, as Ghost instinctively rolling his hips, created more frictions and stimulation.

“Fuck—you smell so fuckin’ good, Simon,” Soap growled out. He gave Ghost a little bite this and there, still eating him out like there was no tomorrow—nipped it with a gruff voice.  

“You—nrghh—like my scent, Johnny?”

Johnny confirmed it through a hum. The vibrations on his throat travelled to the tip of his tongue, still swirling around.

And like a light bulb went off in his head, Ghost raised himself from his sitting. It caused Soap to knitted his eyebrows in agitation. Like a kid whose candy was being snatched suddenly, leaving him empty with just a little to none remaining sweetness in his sense of taste.

Ghost took off his mask fully, presented his face.

Soap blinked. He has seen Ghost’s face before, but, on God—he could never comprehend how a man could be so beautiful. Despite all the scars, or the crooked nose. His eyes were glued to Ghost’s brown orbs, covered in obvious affection.

“You like my smell?” He repeated.

Soap answered fast, “Yes.”

“Good.”

In one move, Ghost made Soap wear his mask, enveloped him with the piece of the black clothing.

Soap jerked. His olfactory was overflowed with a familiar, natural odour of Ghost. He took a deep breath, let out a shaky, wavering voice, “Fuck.”

“You like that?” Ghost wasn’t really waiting for an answer. Because then he shifted his position a little, now caressing the prominent outline on Soap’s pants, evoked a groaning from the Scot. His fingers caressed the bulge, before unzipped Soap’s pants, withdraw his erect cock.

“Simon!”

The owner of that name didn’t respond to the whiny beg. All he did was gripped slowly the thick, long shaft, put his thumb on the reddened, swollen tip. The carved veins on that dick were bulging, and the head already leaking with milky-like substance. He gave Soap an excruciating slow stroke from the hilt to the top.

Soap groaned. His legs jerked once more; his stomach was tightened painfully.

“Do you think you can cum like this, Johnny? Eating me out with that mask on your fuckin’ face?”

Soap whined. “Fuck,” he replied, low. “Yes. Come here.”

Ghost went back to his initial position. The difference is, this time, when he dropped his hips, he could feel the combination of rough skull texture and soft balaclava on his weeping cunt. Starting slow once more, he rolled his hips, grinding himself there.

Soap thought giving the man cunnilingus was already a paradise of itself. However, this … his entire smelling capacity filled with Ghost’s, along with every each of fluttering stroke on top of his face—it felt more than any nirvana, or euphoria he has tasted before.

This is pure bliss. He could feel his cock shivering, ready to be ambushed by his own orgasm.

Ghost starting to feel the rushing flare on his lower stomach. He grumbled, swallowing down a spit. His all senses were tightened and his thighs are quivering. The heat creeping deeper, louder, faster, it made him couldn’t contain his wails.

He knew that Soap felt the same as well. By the way his dick is keep trembling, so needy—waiting to be squeezed, but Ghost bet one touch and it’ll explode in pleasure, spurting away his thick cum.

“Fuck, Simon—I need to … argh, ‘m close, ‘m close.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me,” Simon barked. “I don’t even need to touch you, Johnny. You come off just from my fuckin’ smell and sniffin’ on my cunt?”

“Yes—yes, yes, please, fuckfuckfuck!”

Simon pressing his weight more, suffocated the man under him a little. He knew Soap likes it a little bit hurt—a challenge to push his own self, to break over the limit. To be made a moaning, crazy mess.

“You fuckin’ whore ….” Simon arching his back. His quim was pulsating so hard, need a release of his own.

He maintained his rhythm, bucking his hips unrelenting, even if there is a thin cloth—a restriction between his sopping pussy and Soap’s lips.

His fingers were sneakily drawing a pressured circle on his own clit. He was close as well. “Cum, make a fuckin’ mess.”

Soap cursed. God’s names were chanted from his filthy, almost drooling lips. He felt so good, fuck—he’s so high, he needed to get this. He needed to, more, more, a little bit more, send him to the edge, and—

“Ah—ah! Fuck!” He spasming uncontrollably when both of them reached his climax. He squirted a milky, high-concentrated liquid, and the beads dripping on his own stomach. On the contrary, Ghost releasing a waterier substance, soaking Soap’s face with it.

The concoction of smells—sex, his, Ghost’s—filled his nostrils.

“Good man.” Simon freed him from the balaclava. When that mask finally hiding nothing from his visual, Ghost scoffed softly.

Soap was still trying to calm down his ragged breath. He was drooling—alright, looked so pussy drunk. Deep shade of red covered his whole face, ear to ear, even to his nape.

Ghost standing up a little, let Soap sitting up, cupped his face, bringing their lips together for a slow, soft, kiss. Mouths clashing each other gently, noses pressing against cheeks.

“I wanna—,” Soap took a sharp breath. Pulled himself from the kiss, as his lungs were screaming for air. “Fuck, I wanna get inside you. Wanna fill you up, Simon. I wanna—”

“Yes, Christ.” Simon gave him a kiss on his temple. “I never intended to say no.” His kisses were soft, pressing on Soap’s skin, sweet and light. He kissed him on his nape, tracing his jugular, to his jaw, to his upper lip, to his nose, and the fluttering closed eyes.

Soap sighed, relaxing his body. Taking a short break from the previous powerful activity. And perhaps—Ghost was right; of course, he always is. Because Soap loved him too much, his heart warmed instantly like it was flowers in the middle of spring under the glaring sun.

And when Ghost teasing him with a soft flick on the tip of his cock, Soap whined. It hardened up already. The blonde-haired man couldn’t hold his curved smile. His fingers reached the base of Soap’s length, fondling the balls like a fucking water balloon they were.

“Mhh—fuck, Si ….”

“You want fuck me?”

“Yes. God—nrgh, yes.”

“Okay.” Ghost retracted his hand. He lied on his back, spread away his thighs, wide—letting Soap having a privilege to see all of him. He deliberately uplifted his hips, using his fingers to pried open his drizzling pussy. “Come in, then.”

You’ll be the death of me. Soap’s inner voice was yelping. However—he thought, maybe that’s not a bad way to die. Strangled in a heavenly sensation, between the grip of someone you love, let his existence creeping further deep down to your soul.

“Go on,” Ghost cooed. “Suddenly gettin’ cold feet?”

Soap holding his own erect, caressing the girth. He growled, aligning himself with the slicked hole in front of him. He gave it quick taps before he thrusting into him—fast, deep, sinking fully, and both men grunting loudly.

Soap could feel the warmth that blanketed his cock, so velvety, squeezing so strongly, yet delicately.

This was not his first-time having sex. The first time it felt out of this world—though. Soap panted, set his fingers on each side of Ghost’s hips; searching for something to hold on.

“Fuck, fuck—Simon, you feel so good … so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Ghost groaned. The size—the fucking size of it was tearing him up, splitting him, striking so deep that it was probably nudging his cervix. He let himself to adjust for the enormous dick. It hurts—in a good way, in a way that he wouldn’t have it beside this one.

“You alright?” Soap asked. A hint of worriedness seeping through his soothing tone. His cock was twitching—itching to move, to scrape the spongy walls that were surrounding him. But he wouldn’t move an inch if there wasn’t a clear affirmation.

“‘M fine,” Ghost bite back. His patience was eroding—if there was any in the first place. “Move, Johnny.”

“Okay, fuck.” Soap starting off slow, gliding in and out deep. The tip of his cock reached and slamming into the right spot every time, it made Ghost wail in a messy tempo.

“Ah, ah—fuckin’—mh!” Took a sharp, short breath, holding it for a moment, before let it go together with the moan. Ghost’s growls came from the chest and every cut-off whines encouraged Soap to go faster. “Johnny, fuck—more.”

“More?” Soap thrusting harshly, slapping on Ghost’s hips. Balls swung and hit his crack. Every grinding evoked a wet, dirty, lewd voices that reverberating across the room. “Fuckin’—you are clenching so much, Si. Takin’ me so fuckin well … fuck, my handsome, prettiest L.t.”

“Fuckin’ hell—God, shut up.” He didn’t hate it. Ghost simply wasn’t accustomed to these kinds of appreciation, in the bedroom nevertheless. He didn’t know what to do, because when those mellifluous praises showered him, he could feel himself tighten, squirming, clenching on the inside. He could feel himself leaking more than he has ever before.  

Soap’s thrusts are rocked a little bit more roughly now. His voice was cracking, gruff and covered in lust. “‘M not—‘m not gonna last, Si. Nrghh, fuck—are you close?”

“Yes.” The overstimulated cunt clearly started taking an effect on him. He knew the up-coming climax will rip him more merciless than it did before—but he would be fucking love that. “Yes, fuck, Johnny!”

“Okay, cum for me, yeah? Cum with me—let me fill you up.” Soap chasing their highs ruthlessly, rubbing Ghost’s sensitive, perked nub. He pinched the poor bundle of nerves, making Ghost convulsed by the additional stimulant. His knees are trembling, the muscles all tensed up.

“Fuck—you fucker, Johnny! FUCK!”

Johnny laughed. His laughs were rich and shattered up in the air. Oh—how ecstatic his feeling was, how blessed he was. He was fucking into him harshly, but oh how every lunge filled with beautiful sentiment. “A fuckin’—good man, Si. Fuck, fuck, I love you, I love you so much.”

“I love—ngh!” A broken sob, a whiny groan. More of those guttural whimpers when Soap massaging his clit. 

Ghost’s toes were curled up, back arched. Something accumulating once again inside his stomach, unfurled the hidden thrill, the peak of humans’ primate needs.

Soap’s movement were starting to stutter. He looked down and he could see how clearly Ghost was swallowing him whole. How that reddened cunt formed an oval-like outline between his shaft, enfolded his flesh—a very attractive and pornographic view.

With one last thrust, their orgasms were crashing hard.

Ghost felt the nerve on his neck was tensed up, in tandem with whiteness that splattering on his field of view.

Soap was cumming inside him, smearing Ghost’s inner walls with his cum. His mouth was wide open, taking as much air as he needs, lost in his own high. Ghost’s cunt was also working effectively, efficiently, milking out every drop of his sperm.

Soap pulled out, observing his handiwork. He smiled seeing the gaping hole, streaming with his cum, dripping to the butthole. The sky-coloured eyed man hummed, then using his thumb to pushed back the semen.

Ghost flinched softly. He lost his energy to fight back or protest—not that he would.

“You happy, Johnny?”

Johnny grinning widely. As if he hadn't been just ramming into Ghost brutally, abusing his puffy genitals.

“Yes, yes I am. C’mon, Si—let’s clean up.”

“Mh-hmnn.”

Soap took a deep breath, and gave Ghost a quick peck on his lips. “Uh … we probably need to talk to Price, huh?”

“Oh.” Ghost yawned, resting his eyes for a little bit. “He knows.”

“He—what?”

“I talked to him about … my feeling before. He said he doesn’t mind as long as it doesn’t affect our jobs.”

“Oh.” Soap’s jaw fell. “Wait. Does this mean—wait, does he know we are fucking right now?”

Ghost lifted up his eyelids. A small smile formed on his lips—a transparent showing-case of his emotion. “I wonder ….”

“Fuck, Simon?”

Ghost got up from the bed, walking toward the bathroom. He snorted once again when Johnny called for him in a sheer panic and embarrassment.

“Steamin’ Jesus—Simon!!”

[angelofrainfrogs]

Going Back: Ch. 10

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

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

Description: Things are looking up for Gregory. After putting the soul of a formerly-immortal killer to rest, he and his new family can finally begin their lives anew. Sure, Gregory might have been cursed with mysterious Remnant in exchange for being involved in this mess—not to mention his caretakers consist of sentient robots and ghosts… But there’s no doubt that the bond they share is unbreakable. They love him, and he in turn. 

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once. 

…Unfortunately, true peace is a hard-won battle. There are other things to contend with besides William’s decrepit soul, and Gregory will learn that his role in the lives of the Aftons and Emilys is far greater than anyone could’ve imagined. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

The group parted ways as soon as they entered the Pizzaplex the next evening. Finding Michael waiting by the front door, as he'd slipped out early to do some mechanical work, Charlie hooked their arms together to track down Sam.

Meanwhile, Freddy took Gregory to the basement so he could play with the other kids—the tour of the Pizzaplex would be continued later with Hannah in tow. After parting ways with his son, Freddy made a beeline for Bonnie Bowl. To his pleasant surprise he found the bunny already wandering the central atrium, so it was a short walk to Rockstar Row where the old friends would settle on the couch in Freddy’s room to discuss everything Bonnie missed… This time focused on the bad things.

Freddy told the rabbit everything he knew, the information coming out in a steady stream like water from a fountain. He revealed events in chronological order when he could, starting with Evan’s birthday in ‘83 that triggered it all. There were certainly areas he was lacking information for, but Freddy did his best to tell Bonnie all the details. The rabbit needed to have as much context as possible before the big reveal of why he’d been feeling these human emotions since being powered back on. 

“…And therefore Henry burned the diner to the ground, trapping William and taking the Aftons, Cassidy, and Charlie along with them,” Freddy said, bringing the penultimate chapter of the child murderer to a close. He watched Bonnie carefully, trying to gauge his stress level before he revealed the most harrowing part of the saga—at least with regards to the rabbit himself.

Patting his old friend’s shoulder, Freddy asked: “How are you feeling, Bon? There is one more part to this whole debacle, but I must warn you that it will be far less pleasant for you to hear than everything else, if you can believe it.”

Turns out you should never meet your heroes—or in Bonnie's case, even hear about your heroes. The man who made him murdered children. The most disgusting part was the feeling it gave Bonnie in retrospect, how that blind worship of a man he'd never met before made his mechanical chest ache like there was a ton of bricks bearing down upon it. After the long explanation, Bonnie looked as if he was still gathering his thoughts before he could even register that Freddy had yet one more thing to tell him—and that it was going to be the worst bit of information he'd hear. Bonnie twiddled his thumbs in his lap, careful and collected as he thought of the poor kids and dwelling on the fact that Gregory was nearly an equation inside a messed up science experiment.

“S'pose so, Fred. I doubt it's worse than any of that mess...,” Bonnie said with a raised eyebrow. Surely it couldn't be worse than any of that. It took everything in him not to sound shaken up and scared from the mere thought of more kids going missing.

Freddy's heart ached watching his best friend struggle with so much horrible information. Whereas the bear had a few days to learn things in piecemeal, Bonnie was essentially being force-fed the information in one go. Perhaps there was a better way to approach this, but at the same time Freddy knew the rabbit wouldn't leave him alone until he knew everything. Taking a deep breath, Freddy clenched his fists atop his knees, steeling himself for delivering the final blow.

This was going to hurt.

“Obviously I am telling you this for a reason, and that reason is to explain how we got mixed up in everything,” Freddy continued somberly. “Unfortunately, Henry's plan failed. William escaped and was somehow able to digitize himself, essentially becoming a virus that could infect computers and humans alike. He gained influence over a staff member employed in the Pizzaplex and forced her to do horrible things...”

Here the ursine man paused again, looking into Bonnie’s eyes. He didn’t want to reveal Vanessa’s name just yet, though he was sure Bonnie could figure it out eventually. 

“She sent out malware that infected all the animatronics, causing them to become... to become bloodthirsty, willing to attack anyone who opposed them—even children—as soon as night shift began.” Freddy winced, thinking of Gregory's close encounters at the hands of his former bandmates. “Though William had another goal in mind first: he wanted a new body, and a very specific one at that. He was the reason for you being decommissioned. William’s virus worked its way into Monty’s systems, causing him to summon you to the golf course under false pretenses and attack so he could—”

Freddy’s voice broke off, the fact of what William had done still so terrible after all this time. However, it was clear by Bonnie’s expression that the swift rabbit was putting the pieces together.

Bonnie’s hands lifted to his mouth, unable to explain why he felt nauseous when he didn’t even have a stomach to throw up from. But he didn’t need to justify it; Freddy had already done that for him.

He is—no… was William Afton, if only for a few nights. It explained far too much, and Bonnie took to pulling on his ears to relieve the stress. He tugged on them harshly, looking back to Freddy. It was clear whatever evil he was capable of when he was in a coma-like state hadn’t been too bad, though. Surely, Freddy would tell him if it was…

“N… No more. I-I get it, old hat…,” Bonnie replied, shuddering out the unshakable notion he still had that evil lurking inside him somewhere.

Just out of view of his friends, and undetectable by his virus scan, Bonnie feared William Afton’s return to take his body and use it for his nefarious deeds. Worst of all, that man who was supposed to be their loving creator had turned and hurt Freddy, Gregory, and all the others in ways that could never fully be repaired.

“I surely can’t believe it… You all went through too much,” Bonnie said, fighting the self-doubt in his head. Had he put up a fight up until the end, or had Bonnie's mind been torn from his body kicking and screaming? Either way, he failed to protect any of the children.

“Did... Did I hurt any of y'all…?” Bonnie meekly asked. 

Freddy opened his mouth to answer, then let it slowly shut. Bonnie hadn’t laid a finger on them, but William hurt Michael and Charlie on multiple occasions, and nearly jabbed a Remnant-infused needle into Gregory’s neck—which he’d indirectly succeeded in doing in the end.

“…It was not your fault,” was all Freddy could say, voice slow and measured as he got to his feet. He couldn’t lie to Bonnie and say everything was fine, but he could at least reassure that his friend’s consciousness was innocent.

Moving to Bonnie’s front, Freddy wrapped him in a hug. Their heights were more equivalent now with the rabbit still seated, so Freddy easily slipped his arms around the lagomorph’s neck and held on tight.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong, Bonnie,” he went on. “No animatronic was safe from William’s influence—the only reason I was spared is because Michael latched onto me. If he had picked someone else, it likely would not be me sitting here telling you this. But I can assure you that William is gone—we made sure of it.”

Now Freddy pulled back, offering the tiniest smile. “The fact that you are powered on and back to your old self is proof we trust that horrible man was rid from the world and my dear friend is back. Please do not doubt yourself, as hard as it may be. No one blames you for anything.” 

“But why ME?” Bonnie asked, raising his voice just slightly. He covered his mouth, smacking his paws over his snout as he forced his voice box to manually reset, the outburst only serving to feed his paranoia that there was something wrong with him.

Bonnie forced himself to sit still, but only for a few seconds. He crossed his legs and anxiously bounced his foot over the edge of his knee, a habit now birthed from his new nervous disposition. Is that where those awful emotions were coming from? The man who previously possessed his body and computer system had given him complexes, and all Bonnie wanted to do was give himself a hard reset when they made themselves known. Bonnie ran his hands up his face, massaging it as if stressed skin and muscle were there instead of wires and fur.

“I'm not a bad bunny...,” Bonnie reinforced like a mantra, shutting his eyes. “I'm not a bad bunny...”

Freddy would never lie to him just to spare his feelings, he reminded himself. Most of all, Bonnie just felt violated; being burdened with consciousness only amplified these feelings.

“Bonnie, relax,” Freddy soothed, gripping the rabbit’s paws and stilling them before they did actual damage to his newly-refurbished face. Freddy was thankful yet again for his robotic strength, as he could feel Bonnie’s wires pulled taught as he strained to relieve the internal stress.

“You are not a bad bunny,” Freddy repeated, meeting Bonnie’s flighty gaze when he could, holding his hands in an iron grip between them. “You are a wonderful rabbit, and everyone knows that. I know that, and I trust you implicitly. You are not a danger to anyone.

“As for why it was you, I am afraid I do not have an answer for that. We were all simply caught up in one man’s delusions. I am sorry you bore so much of the burden, but… all we can do is move past this and look to the future.” Releasing one of Bonnie’s paws, Freddy gently patted the top of his head. “We had a discussion yesterday about what it was like to have human emotions—now you know why you have been feeling so strange. Yes, not all of them are pleasant, but so many of them are—and we will be here to help you through them. Alright, old friend?” 

Bonnie couldn't find it in him to answer Freddy. While it felt like the end of his whole world not a few seconds ago, Bonnie was reeled back to reality by his pragmatic friend. He’d always been a little melodramatic—though his current outburst was justified. He may dwell of this for a long time, but at least Freddy and the others were here to help him navigate this sea of emotions and lead him back to the shores of sanity.

Bonnie too was happy for Freddy's android strength. It made it less awkward when he leaned into his friend in the world’s laziest hug.

“My chest feels heavy,” he admitted, still holding onto the burden, though less loud about it now. “But... thanks for bein’ here, Fred.”

Everything would be alright eventually. And when it wasn't alright? Bonnie could call Freddy, or Monty, or anyone that would listen—anyone who’d remind him he wasn't insane and that he wasn't going to hurt anyone again.

Freddy kept the embrace as long as he could, though eventually he pulled back. The action was slow, trying to assure Bonnie that his new feelings were all understood and valid. Only when they were fully disconnected did Freddy realize there was one more thing he wanted Bonnie to know before the night was out.

“Bonnie, I have one final thing to tell you, and then I promise I will drop the topic until you wish to talk about it again,” Freddy said. “It is about Monty—I know you could tell he was acting off yesterday, so I wanted to reassure you that it is not because he is afraid of you. He… he does not truly know what happened, save for the fact there was a malware attack that caused everyone to act out.”

The ursine man’s smile slipped the tiniest bit. “I will leave it up to the two of you to have a conversation, but I can at least say that Monty seems strange because he knows he was the one who decommissioned you. He does not remember anything—none of the animatronics will. But there were rumors from the beginning that he was the cause of you going missing, and when he found out the truth he was beside himself. He is simply afraid of hurting you again.”

When it came down to it, Monty and Bonnie shared at least that much in common—the fear of slipping back into an uncontrolled state and lashing out at those they care for. 

Bonnie, strangely enough, didn’t seem so upset about it. Like Fred mentioned, it wasn’t as if anyone was in control of their full mental faculties these past few months. Honestly, Bonnie was more upset that Monty was able to beat him at their game of wrestling…

Still, at some point, it became less of a game and more of Bonnie fighting just so his face wasn’t ripped from his body, or his limbs torn off one by one until he was an incoherent mess of wires, parts, and broken casing.

“Aw, shucks, that’s Monty for ya, huh? He makes one mistake and now he’s gonna hold it against himself forever…” Bonnie sighed with a shake of his head. It was something he was gonna have to talk to the old gator about. Hopefully they could sweep all this unpleasantness under the lily pad with a few rounds of golf or bowling. “He’s such a sensitive lug… I’m fine now.”

“Monty will be pleased to hear that, I am sure,” Freddy said, the usual brightness returning to his demeanor now that the initial unpleasantness of things was past. With a grin, Freddy tugged the rabbit forward, urging him to his feet.

“Now, as I said I will move past this topic until you are ready to speak about it again,” the redhead reassured. Once Bonnie was upright, Freddy released him and checked his phone, noting the time. “I promised Gregory that I would take him and a few of his friends on a little tour of the Pizzaplex tonight. I am sure they would be ecstatic if you joined us.”

He glanced up at the comparatively tall rabbit questioningly. “There is a good chance we will run into Henry Emily when I pick them up—but I guarantee he will be kind to you, as that is his nature. Would you like to come along?”

Bonnie couldn't look happier. He’d take anything fun to distract him from the horrible truth he just learned. He just knew the moment he saw Gregory and those poor kids, he'd give all of them a great big hug! He couldn't mention knowing the truth about their shared demises and various tortures, but he'd try to help ease the pain with one of his famous hugs.

“I sure would, Fred! I think that's a swell idea.” He beamed, slipping his arm around Freddy's shoulders to get their journey going. His jolty movements made it clear he was a little shaken and quick to push everything back into the closet of his mind again. The next time he'd speak of this dreadful incident would be when he talked it all out with Monty, then no more for a long time.

“Besides, I couldn't possibly pass up the chance to meet THE He—nry Em-Em-ily...” Bonnie found his voice box needing another manual reset. There goes that weird tick again...

Freddy spared a raised-eyebrow at the glitch but said nothing, simply slipping his arm through Bonnie’s as an anchor. He had to admit, he was just as relieved that their conversation was over for now; he hated dwelling on such topics, too.

It was a slower trip down to the basement than usual due to Bonnie's inclination to pause every once in a while and look around or comment about how he never knew such things like the old, burned down diner even existed in the Pizzaplex. When they finally made it to the workshop door Freddy dislodged himself, flashing Bonnie a smile. “Henry is just inside this room. Let me get him.”

“One sec!” the jovial voice called after Freddy's knock. After some shuffling and heaving, Henry managed to push the android he was working on refurbishing into a corner of the room, away from potentially sensitive eyes. He soon threw the door open, grinning up at the kind-faced creation he'd put so much heart and soul into. “Hey, Fred—oh.”

There was a pause, in which Henry stared up at Bonnie with a slightly lax jaw. However, he was quick to slap himself with a gentle swat of his cheek, mouth flipping back into a smile before the robots could even register his minor internal crisis. “Well, well! If it isn't Bonnie the Bunny!” 

That was him. It was really him. Wow...

Bonnie himself was in quite the tizzy. Grasping his head and making his ears flop to the side, he let out a short, albeit star-struck laugh, the expression on his face matching Henry's own micro-crisis.

“Mr. Emily, I presume?” Bonnie asked, feeling his voice box cut in a strange way again. His thick country accent sounded clear, though a tad forced. “I really don't believe my scanners, but it's you! Wowee—it's an honor!”

The normally charismatic bunny was abnormally shy, trying to make himself a little smaller as he talked. Henry knew the man that possessed him; knew what he did. Hopefully he could look past that and accept the paw Bonnie jutted out for a somewhat awkward handshake.

Henry let out a jovial laugh, shaking Bonnie's hand thoroughly. Honestly, he praised Sam for making this version so far removed from the golden springlock suit Henry had come to associate with his former business partner. It was easy for him to see Glamrock Bonnie as just another animatronic; despite William's possession earlier that week, Henry had been assured by multiple sources that his “old friend” was gone for good.

“You can just call me Henry; everyone does. I even got Fredbear to, after a bit of needling,” the ghost said, releasing Bonnie's hand only to playfully jab Freddy in the side. He ushered the pair into the workshop proper, closing the door behind them. “The kids are playing in the diner with Puppet, so we have the place to ourselves for abouuuut—” Henry mimed looking at his nonexistent watch. “—five minutes before they bother me again.”

“We will take some of them out of your hair in a moment,” Freddy assured, settling near the workbench.

“Oh, I'm only joking; I love those little terrors,” Henry chuckled, then glanced up at Bonnie. “It's good to meet you, Bon! How are you feeling? Er, is 'Bon' okay? I guess I should be asking you all these things...”

He scratched the back of his head, mumbling this last part to himself. He'd gotten so used to Freddy looking human that it was easy to forget the Glamrock line was known for its sentience—and Bonnie in particular had much more human qualities than most due to extenuating circumstances.

“Oh, Bon is just great! Bon, Bonnie, that big ol' purple Bunny—” The rabbit laughed, warming up well to their original creator. “—you can call me anything ya like!”

The amiable rabbit offered a smile and a wink. He hoped that it didn't come off in the way he spoke to Henry, but there was an odd need for Henry to like him. Though it didn't seem to be something he'd have to vie for so desperately; Henry was a nice guy, and Bonnie could tell already that they'd make great friends.

The way he spoke about the kids reminded him of the way Freddy talked about them. It was the warmth in his voice, he reckoned. He and Fredbear seemed to share that affinity.

“I'm feeling ter—iffic!” His voice box glitched out, trying to change its pitch all on his own. Bonnie laughed again, scratching lightly behind an ear. “Well! That keeps happening, but besides that I’m all better now!”

“I can take a look at that, if you want,” Henry offered with a questioning tilt of the head. “Sounds like something might've slipped out of place; shouldn't be a hard fix. I'm quite the mechanic, if I do say so myself.” His faux-haughty demeanor softened as he looked at the rabbit's confused mix of facial expressions. “Only if you want—no pressure.”

Bonnie didn't feel afraid; who else would be a more perfect candidate to look over his functions besides from Sam himself?

“Well if you'd kindly, I'd appreciate it.” Bonnie hopped onto the workbench faster than two shakes of a lamb's tail, then laid down to relax his neck joints and his disconnecting jaw. He laid still, disabling his mechanical features to allow Henry easier access to his voice box. After a series of humming and what appeared to be squinting in measured frustration aimed at his odd wiring, Bonnie was then given free range to sit up and click his face plating back into position.

“So what's the prognosis, Doc? My head screwed on wrong?” he teased, batting his eyes playfully to let Henry know he was just joking.

“Only a bit,” Henry joked right back, gently knocking a fist against the top of Bonnie's noggin right between the ears. “Really, though, I do think it's just a few wires that slipped out of place—not a major repair, but it might take a few minutes to fix up. Honestly, Mike or Sam could probably get it done faster than me; hate to say it, but I'm not as familiar with the Glamrock line!”

“We can ask for their assistance later tonight,” Freddy suggested, although before Bonnie had a chance to respond a tiny voice sounded from the recesses of the basement.

“Uncle Henry!” Evan called, floating into the room and making a beeline for the elder ghost's side. “Uncle Henry! Can we bring Puppet up with us tonight?!”

“I don't see why not,” Henry responded, his eyes softening as they always did when talking to the (usually) sweet-tempered Evan. Besides, he had no doubt Puppet would go anywhere she could if the kids asked her to. He gestured to Freddy, who the boy had completely skipped over in his focused mission. “Good timing, too—you're chaperone's here.”

“Oh! Hey, Freddy!” Evan gave the ursine man a bright wave, then did the same to Bonnie when he realized the rabbit was staring down at him from the workbench. Since their time at the bowling alley last night, Evan had no more fear of the purple bunny. “Lemme go get the others. Gregory! Your dad's here!”

With that the boy took off like a rocket, phasing through numerous walls as he headed back to the old diner to gather the crew for tonight's tour, now including Hannah and the Marionette. Henry shook his head with a chuckle, arms crossed in front of his chest. It was good to see the kid in high spirits after so long. 

Gregory was walking with the lanky Puppet draped across his shoulders, her wrist limp in his as he gestured her hand wildly at Hannah. As they laughed together, walking through the door at Evan’s call, he waved Marionette’s arm at the group.

“Hey, Dad! Puppet wanted to come and look at Henry’s blueprints!” he shouted, prompting the Puppet to slip off his frame and slink towards the work table.

Bonnie marveled at the silent animatronic. Her movements seemed advanced for her apparent age as she made her way over, unabashedly using Bonnie to climb up onto the workbench besides him with an aura of excitement.

Gregory, now that his hand was freed up, decided to take Hannah’s instead. Not for his own gain—though holding her hand like this was certainly a special occasion in itself for him. Gregory just gleaned that Hannah wasn’t the most comfortable around new people—whether that involved new animatronics she hadn’t met before was unclear, but judging by the way she clutched his palm back, Gregory knew she didn’t mind.

“Bonnie! This is my friend Hannah; come say ‘hi!’” he beckoned, leading her further into the workshop. Bonnie hopped away from the table, fixing the collar of his shirt and pretending to check the smell of his breath as he walked up to greet the kids. The silly rabbit knelt to one knee to meet the children on their level and said

“Howdy, guys! It’s sure swell to meet you, Hannah. Aren’t you two just little peas in a pod?” Bonnie remarked at the close knit friend group he found oh so adorable. In the peripheral of his vision, the strawberry-blonde girl he’d met yesterday with a huge red ribbon in her hair peaked from behind the door, currently glaring holes into Bonnie’s head.

Lizzie was hiding her scowl around the corner, wishing she could simply explode the rabbit with her mind. She hadn’t given Bonnie much thought last night, too wrapped up in the magic of the Pizzaplex itself and their rousing game of Gator Golf. However, now Lizzie had time to think on things—and as usual, when her thoughts were left to wander they also tended to fester.

Looking upon Bonnie now, she came to the conclusion that everything about him irked her, from the heavy accent to his quirky mannerisms. It all reminded her too much of him, and immediately soured her good mood. The dumb bunny must have felt her weak attempt at a psychic onslaught, because he glanced up to look at Liz with a bewildered expression.

“Uh—howdy, little lady!” Bonnie greeted with a wave. “Lizzie, right? You were smokin’ Monty at golf yesterday!”

“Lizzie…” Attuned to his sister’s distress, Evan clung to her shoulders like Puppet had done to Gregory moments before, pressing his cheek against hers as he eyed the rabbit and murmured in her ear. “I don’t sense anything weird, Liz; I think he’s okay… He was nice last night, remember?”

Hannah, on the other hand, seemed a bit star-struck. Bonnie had always been her favorite, starting from his part in the old cartoons she’d watched as a little kid, but by the time her parents actually took her to the Pizzaplex, Bonnie was decommissioned shortly after. She’d only gotten to see him live once, performing on stage with the rest of the band. Never did she think she’d get to have a personal conversation with him—her parents could never afford such a luxury package. 

In retrospect, it’d been far too easy for Vanny to lead Hannah away with the promise of an encounter with the rabbit. Her fingers clenched tight around Gregory’s, pushing down the memories under a little smile as she directed the animatronic’s attention back to her. “Hi, Bonnie! It’s super awesome to meet you! I’m like… your biggest fan!”

Something so simple shouldn't have made Bonnie's heartstrings pull like that. It was a sentiment he heard a hundred times by other fans, and normally he'd give them one of the usual responses without deeper thought. Coming from this girl—a ghost if he wasn't mistaken—it felt more real than before he’d gained consciousness. He was someone's favorite member of the band, their first choice and a star in her eyes.

“That's a good thing I get to come hang out with y'all today! I can get to know my new friend better,” Bonnie said to specifically hype Hannah up, trying his best to ignore Elizabeth's more abrasive response.

She screwed up her nose and muttered under her breath. Gregory at least looked happy at his offer to come play with them. While he was sure it was due to their previous day's bonding, Bonnie might not’ve caught on that his huge grin was because of how tight Hannah was gripping his palm still. Bonnie leaned into the mixed group slightly, pointing to the youngest ghost.

“And you’re Evan! I remember—you look just like your lil’ twin over here! And my biggest fan is Hannah,” he reiterated, making sure he knew their names by memory. Then, his index finger pointed to Liz, who still glared at him in hopes he would soon burst into flames. “And miss sour-patch is Lizzie.”

“Yup!” Evan confirmed, absolutely no fear or hesitation in his demeanor. He moved from Lizzie’s shoulders to her side, grabbing one arm with both hands and trying to tug her forward. “Come on, Liz! Stop being a grouch!”

“Evan, do not push her,” Freddy gently warned. When Evan opened his mouth to protest, Freddy continued with an understanding smile. “Everyone processes things differently—you know that. I am sure she will warm up in time.”

This last sentence was partially directed to the girl herself, who turned her narrowed eyes on Freddy. However, the ursine man was completely unfazed by her fierce attitude. After a few seconds Evan released Lizzie’s arm, though he stayed attentively by her side. Freddy had a point—though they both knew their father‘s rabbit obsession forever tainted Bonnie the Bunny, it was easier for Evan to separate his grudge against William from the animatronic in front of them… Much more so than Lizzie, it seemed.

Despite the tense reaction from Liz, Hannah was still entranced by the rabbit. He was even friendlier than she’d imagined! Lightly swinging Gregory’s arm, she asked Bonnie:

“So you’re gonna hang out with us in the Pizzaplex?!” At his conforming nod, she clenched her fists excitedly, squeezing Gregory’s hand in the process as the smile on her face grew impossibly wider. “Yessss!”

She was coming to realize that being dead and stuck in the Pizzaplex wasn’t all bad… Getting exclusive time with the animatronics was certainly one of the best perks.

Henry had been listening in on all of this of course, though only with one ear as the rest of his attention was directed to Puppet who meticulously scanned the blueprints.

“So, what’s the verdict?” the old ghost intoned, giving her a gentle pat on the back as her slim frame crouched over the workbench. “Think you can deal with this body, or does it need any tweaks?” 

Puppet gently picked up the blueprints and held their intricate designs to her chest, swaying excitedly. To be able to express these new feelings and thoughts she had would be amazing, if just for a little while. Mari was careful not to crumple the papers before placing them down and showing her gratitude through a gentle hug squeezed around Henry's shoulders. Right now, she appreciated him more than he could know. The design was perfect, and soon she’d understand completely how Charlie and Michael felt in their androids.

Despite Liz's unwillingness to cooperate, she tried to wipe the frown off of her face. She’d simply have to avert her gaze from the rabbit to avoid feeling so blue. Bonnie's image made her heart hurt, and she couldn't help but lash out in a silent anger—anger that indented her nails into her synthetic skin as she clenched her hands.

“So what's our first destination, pals?” Bonnie asked, hands placed confidently on his hips as he stood.

The kids looked at each other expectantly, waiting for one of them to speak up. It was Hannah who talked first, finally releasing Gregory’s hand with the tiniest blush to clasp her palms together behind her back. 

“Evan and Liz, where do you guys wanna go?” she asked, tilting her head questioningly at the Aftons. The siblings shared a look, before Evan shrugged.

“I dunno… What else is there to do around here?” He posed the query to the room, knowing someone would be able to provide an answer. “We already checked out mini-golf and the bowling alley… Oh, and the Daycare!”

“I believe you would be most interested in Roxy Raceway or Fazerblast,” Freddy suggested, though his gaze was fixed on Gregory. The boy had traumatic experiences in both attractions, so it was up to him whether he was ready to tackle them. A slight frown creased the redhead’s face. “Although I do not know if the raceway is functional yet… So perhaps Fazerblast? Or an arcade… We could also simply wander and stop by whatever area catches our fancy.”

“What do you think, Gregory?” Hannah inquired, also wanting his opinion. The two of them had the most experience at the Pizzaplex out of all the kids, so she was curious as to what he thought would be a good place to check out first. 

Oh, the Raceway. Gregory seemed to have a particularly nonplused stare as he remembered their close call, Michael bleeding all over him and using himself as a fleshy shield... If it weren't for Ennard, they wouldn't be here to make the choice of where to hang out today. In a way, it would be a triumphant return to the very place they had conquered. And while he heard Hannah, it took him a second of thinking to decide.

“Maybe we'll check out the arcades?” Gregory suggested. “Then we can swing around the Raceway and see what's going on with it.”

Bonnie rubbed the side of his head with a broad paw, smiling at the thought of racing their little karts around the track. “Ah, Roxy Raceway—brings back such good memories. Right, Fredbear?”

How Monty and Fred laughed when Roxy's naturally competitive nature made her cross with Bonnie, who only wanted to take a leisurely drive around the track.

“It's a Raceway,” Roxy had argued to the brick wall of a bunny. “We're not taking your grandma shopping. Put the pedal to the metal, rabbit!”

Bonnie couldn't wait to see them all again. Thankfully Michael, Sam, and Henry were hard at work as they spoke tuning up their friends—and currently restoring old ones.

“It does indeed,” Freddy agreed with a soft smile, then gestured for the little band of ghosts and animatronics to follow him. They’d wasted too much time thinking over the past when they could be having fun already. “To the arcades it is; we will see you later, Henry!”

“Have fun!” Henry replied, feeling Puppet dislodge herself so she could slink over and latch onto another friend who’d be making their way upstairs. Clapping Bonnie amiably on the back, he grinned up at the rabbit. “It’s good to meet you, Bon; we’ll definitely catch up more another time. Oh, and don’t forget to ask Mike and Sam about that voice box of yours!”

“Oh you know it, Henry!” Bonnie told him, now brave enough in front of his hero—his good creator—to reach for a quick hug around his shoulders. Weirdly enough, it felt... homey. Familiar and comforting in the way it was when showing Fred quick bouts of affection.

He didn't think about it too hard, merely focusing on one of the good feelings and letting go when that synthetic serotonin wore off. The children were already being wrangled by Freddy, and the former bear looked like he needed help with the rambunctious children. So with a wave goodbye Bonnie met them by the door, happy to hold it open and let everyone through.

Evan was currently being wrapped up in Puppet's hugging arms. She clung to his shoulders as the shortest Afton unintentionally dragged the lower half of her body behind them.

“Don't drag her like that, Evan! Her legs will catch on something,” Liz gently scolded, bending at the waist to pick up Puppet’s limbs while speaking. Gregory couldn't help but crack a smile at them.

“She survived the garbage chute, 'Lizabeth. Mari's tougher than a jawbreaker,” he praised, much to the Puppet's joy.

“Yeah—besides, if she wrapped all around me I couldn’t walk, so what else am I ‘sposed to do?” Evan deadpanned, though his grin showed he appreciated Lizzie’s help nonetheless. Puppet was certainly a long animatronic, apt to converge around a child completely when all her limbs got involved in an embrace—all the better to protect them with her own body if necessary, as was her design.

While the Aftons chatted, Hannah hung back slightly to fall into step with Bonnie. It was still hard for her to believe he was up and running after all this time. With a questioning tilt of her head and hands still clasped behind her back, she inquired: “So, Bonnie, are you gonna be back in the band now? I know Monty took your place, but like… can’t you both play the bass? Or one of you go on drums or something?”

Freddy had slowed his pace as well to better watch the kids, and he glanced over his shoulder briefly at Hannah’s question. He felt strongly inclined to speak up on Bonnie’s behalf, wanting to save his friend from potentially thinking back to any negatives… but as hard as it was to stay quiet, Freddy knew it was best to let Bonnie answer for himself. Now that his old friend knew everything, there was no need to respond for him. Besides, one way for Bonnie to get used to his new emotions was to deal with them head-on, just as Freddy had.

“Huh, you know what? I didn't rightly get to thinking about that,” Bonnie replied, scratching beneath his chin. It'd sure be nice to perform in front of a crowd again! It was just a question on whether management wanted that from him or not.

Maybe now was the time to start flexing his creative muscles—to go back to his roots and practice for an instrument they've been needing in their little ensemble. Bright pink eyes glanced down to Hannah and the expressive robot smiled with them to her.

“I've been meaning to pick up a new instrument! Heck, I might take Fred's old job! Singin' has always been my secret talent.” He mentioned that last part specifically as he saw Freddy listening in, knowing the bear would appreciate the joke. 

“Say Hannah, do you play any instruments?” Bonnie asked, offering the girl his hand as they walked. The younger kids liked to hold onto his paw, and though Hannah was a little older he figured being cordial to his biggest fan was only good manners.

Hannah was over the moon at this gesture, her feet floating off the ground slightly in her excited haste to latch onto her favorite bunny’s paw. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Bonnie’s grip was comfortingly soft for such a big metallic robot.

“Um… I was actually trying to learn guitar,” the little ghost admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed. She hadn’t wanted to learn just because Bonnie played—at least, that wasn’t the only reason. A slight frown crossed her face. “My big sister was super good at it, and he started to teach me a little before—”

She cut off with a distant stare at the ground. However, the motion of her arm swinging along with Bonnie’s quickly perked her up enough to give a small laugh, pushing away the memories of her old life as was becoming a habit. “I’m not good at all though!”

“I am sure with more practice, you would be a wonderful guitarist,” Freddy commented, and Hannah beamed up at him. Freddy’s blue eyes flickered to Bonnie’s, a smile turning up his lips. “Perhaps we can find an extra guitar around here and someone could give you a few pointers…?”

Bonnie knew exactly what she was getting at. She must miss her family so much... Bonnie's empathy was going haywire, and he firmly squeezed her hand to garner her attention.

“Heck—I'll teach you guitar! I know a little thing or two about it. But we gotta get you to meet up with Chica. Boy howdy, she can really rip on the strings!” he offered, simultaneously praising their friend's talents for the electric guitar shredding she often was want to do. He refused to let this girl be sad on his watch. The next time they swung by the stage, Bonnie was sure Sam wouldn't mind them taking a guitar or two to teach Hannah how to hone her skills a little more. “You and I could start our own little band if the Glamrocks don't take me back!”

In the group ahead, Lizzie had asked Evan quietly: “Do you think Hannah's going to write a song about Gregory?”

She said it just to tease their newest friends. Though it earned her a well-placed elbow to the side from Gregory, making her shriek out in a bubbly laugh as she successfully got under his skin.

“That’d be awesome!” Hannah gasped, her eyes shining with the thought of playing with the Glamrocks. She loved them all, but Chica was definitely her second favorite without question, so the chance to have a jam sesh with her and Bonnie was filling her cold little heart full to bursting. She shook Bonnie’s arm, floating higher and completely unaware of the conversation happening a few feet away. “You’ve gotta tell me as soon as Chica’s back so I can meet her, too!”

Snickering at Gregory’s reaction, Evan leaned into his sister conspiratorially and replied: “Hannah’s gonna write him a song, and Gregory’s gonna draw her a picture on that electric notepad thingy Sam gave him.”

Gregory had shown off his tablet briefly the other day, though Freddy opted to take it for safe keeping when the kid started running around. The ursine man might not know exactly how much it cost, but judging by Michael’s reaction to the cell phones he reasoned the CEO spent a pretty penny on family gifts. The last thing they needed was for it to get broken in a prank gone awry…

“You promised you’d show us that again, Gregory,” Evan reminded eagerly. The years of being stuck inside outdated Pizzerias—and even more outdated animatronics—were starting to reveal their effect the more time Gregory spent around the old ghosts. “I still don’t believe it’s a computer! It’s waaaay too small!”

Gregory had taken a cursory glance behind them, content to know that Hannah was preoccupied with her conversation with Bonnie to even recognize her name was being said repeatedly. Though their affection was quickly becoming mutualized, Gregory still hadn't had the guts to say anything to Hannah yet. Evan's playful jeer did give Gregory an idea though—making Hannah something would show her that he thought she was special to him.

What to draw her, though? Maybe something with Bonnie... He'd have to use the rabbit as a model.

Gregory sent the Aftons exaggerated glares before raising an eyebrow to Evan. His sister and brother were robots, plus they themselves were ghosts—and Evan couldn't believe that computers could be small? Then again, these two came from a strange world of technological marvels. Recreational computers just weren't anything like the things they had now. Still, a smile eventually found its way to Gregory's face and he told them:

“I'll show you guys when we get to the arcade! I... I should draw her something though.” He laughed, admitting what the group already knew without actually having to say it out loud. “All of us can draw and play video games together.”

They opted for the East Arcade, allowing Music Man to rest another night without being awoken to blast some more tunes for screeching children. The attractions had all been opened up to allow staff easy access wherever and whenever they needed, so the slated garage doors rose automatically upon the group's arrival. While Hannah tugged Bonnie forward towards her favorite console, Evan stopped dead in his tracks. The flashing neon lights reflected off his huge eyes as he stared around in jaw-dropping wonder. This place had nothing on any Fazbear restaurants he'd seen before—and it was apparently just one of several arcades throughout the building. Sammy had really outdone himself.

“Whoa,” the ghost breathed out, not even sure where to go first. At least the arcade cabinets themselves were familiar, although surely most of the games were new to him. Plus, there were just so many of them! As his gaze swiveled rapidly around the room, Evan noticed a massive prize counter stuffed to the brim with plushies and other gifts to be won with an exorbitant amount of tickets. He tapped the Puppet's arm with one hand, pointing the prize counter with the other. “Look, Mari! You can hand out a buttload of presents from there!”

Elizabeth was frozen solid, her eyes unblinking before she could wiggle herself free. The nearly endless feeling of all the game titles and challenges was making her head swim with all the possibilities. Watching Gregory draw would have to wait; Liz simply couldn't keep all of these games waiting for her. It figured that a former child raised within the confines of the Fazbear diners would have a vision so grandiose.

“This is only the east arcade?” Liz dared to ask Gregory, amazed that there were more of these goliath entertainment centers around the Pizzaplex with even more challenges and titles to test their skills at.

The Puppet slowly slunk off of Evan in favor of performing her little programed tasks. She may partially have a human's consciousness now, but there was something about the simplicity of handing a kid a toy after a hard day’s work of earning tickets that felt satisfying.

“Yeah! We won't get through all of them today, so we got to do the classics and THEN do the new ones,” Gregory said, walking towards Freddy to tug on his shirt. “Dad? Hey, do you have my tablet?”

“Ah—I believe I left it in Sam's office since it was inconvenient to carry,” Freddy replied, patting down his pockets just in case the device would magically appear. With an apologetic smile, he ruffled Gregory's hair and told him: “I can fetch it for you; it will only take a moment. Bonnie?”

The rabbit had already been pulled to a far corner of the arcade by his superfan, who'd finally released his paw so she could show him her talent at her favorite Pacman-like iteration. Freddy's expression softened at the display and he placed a hand on Gregory's back, gently urging him towards the still overwhelmed-looking Evan. “Go play, superstar; I will be right back.”

When Gregory moved towards his surrogate sibling, Freddy headed towards Bonnie and Hannah, stopping at their side and reaching up to tap the rabbit's shoulder. Hannah was fully engrossed in her game, barely acknowledging Freddy's presence as he told the lagomorphic robot: “I am going to grab Gregory's tablet from Samuel's office—do you mind watching them for five minutes, old friend?” 

Bonnie had his attention pulled from Hannah for just a short moment. With the confidence and experience to watch groups of kids, he didn't have a worry in the world. With a lazy smile, Bonnie waved him off.

“Sure thing, Freddy! Tell the Boss-man I said 'Howdy', will ya?” he asked, turning back to place a hand on Hannah's shoulder as she played her game. She was impressing the old bunny with her skill on the old joystick and button console. “How are you this good at Balloon Pop?! You're going to make the high score roster for sure!”

A cursory glance over to the Afton kids let Bonnie know the kids were still adjusting from the shock of the more modern Pizzeria. Gregory meanwhile began to shake both Elizabeth and Evan from their stupors.

“GUYS! Come on! We should play bug stomp before Freddy gets back!” he tried to encourage, only managing to move them a few inches before they loosened up on their own accords. He needed to get some gaming in before his dad returned, or he'd likely not get a chance to play at all tonight with the picture he wanted to make for Hannah.

Evan finally got the wherewithal to start forward, following after Gregory as the boy directed them to the game in question. Evan tried his best to take in all the new titles and artwork of these modern day machines, but everything blended together in a big blur. He vaguely registered Puppet's slim frame lounging in the netting above the prize counter, relaxing in a pile of plushies until her first “customer” came over to trade tickets for gifts. A wistful little smile crossed the ghost's face at this. At least Mari was happy; she deserved it, after everything she'd done for them.

Mari was a relatively carefree animatronic on the surface, her lackadaisical repose inside the netting giving her the air of a sentinel amidst the various toys and gadgets. She waved to the kids as they frantically passed her by, happy to watch them from the sidelines to make sure everyone was safe.

It's why she did everything. First and foremost, her central programming was to make sure Charlie was safe. But with every missing child that came after her, Puppet had slowly righted every tragedy. Her Gifts were finally being enjoyed to their fullest extent, and those children could relive their happiest days forever...

Yet it always seemed something wanted to place themselves in the way of that perfect, picturesque life.

Hardly anything got past the Puppet. Not one sound or motion that wasn't analyzed critically. And the shadow passing just outside the hall had drawn her attention quickly. It could be Monty, but the shadow itself was smaller—Freddy was a rather tall man in his human form, and even with this stretched-out darkness just lurking quietly outside, she could see it wasn't their friend. Her music box clicked, starting out of old habit. Above the sounds of various arcade games being played, the old melody played as she slowly slunk down from her precarious perch to investigate.

Bonnie had hardly noticed. His attention was either fixated solely on Hannah, or having called out in asking what game the others were off to go play.

There was that music box again. It played for various reasons—to soothe, to help a child drift off to sleep, to announce when a big prize was won... But it could also play when the Puppet was curious.

Having spent so long by her side, Evan was particularly tuned into Mari's lullaby. Cassidy was the same, but seeing as she was nowhere in the vicinity it was only Evan who turned his head, watching the slim, striped Marionette slink across the floor in a fluid search. He started to ask what she was looking for, but a tug on his sleeve from Gregory distracted him enough.

Puppet would let them know if there was danger about, he was sure of it. There was no need to stress; he was here to have fun, and that's what he was going to do.

***

Meanwhile, Freddy arrived at Sam's office only to find it locked. He must be off gallivanting the Pizzaplex with Michael and Charlie. Freddy sighed, wishing he could connect to one of them in an instant like he used to be able to do with his bandmates... Until he realized that he could, in a way. Finally, he'd get to use this cell phone Sam so graciously provided.

Slipping it out of his pocket, Freddy scrolled through the few contacts Sam preinstalled until he found the CEO, upon which he'd press the “call” button as Michael showed him the other day. He held the device up to his ear, thankful to hear it ringing on the other end and even more relieved when Sam's familiar voice picked up.

“Hello, Sam,” Freddy said, speaking a bit louder than he needed to with the microphone so close to his mouth. “I would like to get Gregory's tablet from your office, but it is locked; I apologize for the inconvenience, but would you be able to meet me here? It should only take a moment!” 

Sometimes Sam wondered if he designed Freddy far too politely. It didn't grate his nerves by any means, though he hoped it eventually didn't lead to some kind of complex. Regardless, he answered with a happy sounding: “Fredbear! No, it won't be a problem. I was just showing Mike the newest upgrades in the security system, but he'll be fine while I'm gone.”

Sam would give the guard in question a thumbs up in case he was wondering why Freddy called. It was by no means an emergency, but that didn't mean it didn’t require Sam's attention.

“I'll meet you there,” Sam said decisively, briefly looking down at his nails before wishing him goodbye and hanging up. Oil and dirt came clean from under the whites of his nail bed, and he flicked the dirt to the floor with the dismantled Chica parts. Another robot was almost ready to go, and the more Sam worked with Michael the more thankful he was to have the guy back in his life. He had so much experience inside the company, Mike by all means should be running it with him.

“I'll be right back—Gregory needs his tablet and it's inside the office.” Sam raised a bushy brow towards his friend at the security desk. “You're going to be good while I'm gone?”

Whether he meant ''good' as if fine mood and work wise, or 'good' as in no causing harm or mischief seemed to be left up to Michael. Now clad in the standard white button-up and black pants of the Fazbear security uniform, Michael leaned back in the swivel chair and tipped his hat with a jaunty grin.

“I’ll be fine, Boss,” he replied, still amused that his childhood friend was now technically his employer. Gesturing to the multitude of camera feeds on the monitors, Mike added: “I’ve done this a thousand times—trust me, I know what I’m doing. If there’s any trouble on either end, we’ve got walkies and cell phones to contact each other. Just leave it up to your night guard to keep things running smoothly.”

Was this mild pontificating a way to cover up his nerves at being left alone at a security desk again?

…Possibly, though Michael would never admit it. For literally the first time since he’d started working security guard positions, he would not be on the lookout for possessed, bloodthirsty animatronics. In fact, everyone he’d able to see on the cameras—robotic, ghostly, or human—was his friend in some capacity. Well, except Ennard, though they clung to the vents and would be hard to spot on camera anyway.

With a grimace, Michael glanced up to the grated vent opening in the wall in front of him, hoping he wouldn’t get a surprise visit. No promises he wouldn’t instantly taze the now-helpful amalgamation due to traumatic flashbacks…

Flipping his expression back into a casual smile, Michael kicked his feet up on the desk and gestured lazily for Sam to go. “You’d better meet Freddy before he starts freaking out because you’re thirty seconds later than he expects you to be; we’ll be in touch.” 

“You're the best, Mikey.” Sam smiled, throwing up another thumb in the air as the pneumatic hiss of the security door whooshed up and over his head. Samuel walked leisurely, checking his phone on his walk to the office. There was never a break for work for him; when not actively tightening bolts on an animatronic, he was always checking emails or texts from business suppliers and partners.

As Samuel arrived to his office in search of the drawing tablet, Mike would probably notice the movements on the other cameras. With several sections of the mall to flip through, he could catch glimpses of their friends in Daycare. Charlie was currently blowing up his phone with memes she'd found from 2008, now fully entrenched in the culture of that time.

Scrolling through the feeds, something struck Michael as odd: the sound of a familiar music box, growing closer and closer no matter which camera he checked.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter (Coming soon)

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[canadiancryptid]

So, I did a poll like a month ago seeing if people wanted to know a little more about me, and then I forgot to actually do anything with it. Completely forgot what sort of things I was going to say but I have a couple things here.

9 People I'd Like to Know Better Game!

@msbadatnamingthings tagged me in a "get to know you better" game like 2 months ago that I kind forgot about. I had a few questions answered and then it just kinda got lost to the void of my drafts pile like so many other things. Sorry about that, but I'm remembering now!

last song: Deltarune the (not) Musical - The Field of Hopes and Dreams

favorite color: purple

last movie/last tv show: just finished The Ghost and Molly McGee :(

sweet/spicy/savory: savory

relationship status: single

last thing i googled: I think it was something about how the education system works in Minnesota. Trying to work on a fic around a certain character. Probably not hard to guess which one.

current obsession: Infinity Train never went away and likely never will, but I've recently been obsessing over Deltarune again

I also got a couple questions on the original poll from @keliana856! Finally getting to them! Whoo!

1: Lake and the entire concept of the Mirror World. The entire concept is so interesting to me, and I feel like it really doesn't get talked about enough. We get the basic premise of how it works in Book 1, but other than that, most of it is left unexplained. We learn some more from Lake when she's talking to the Flecs and answering some of Jesse's questions, but that's about it. We don't even know if the existence of the Mirror World is connected to the Train or not. Its such a cool concept and I love thinking about it.

Lake is my favorite character in the whole show, BY FAR. Her story is amazing, her dynamic with Jesse is incredible, and her introduction and entire first episode were one of the best things I've ever watched. I love thinking about her complicated relationship with Tulip and what might happen if they ever saw each other again. The finale of Book 2 was the first show that made me immediately want to go on Ao3 just to see more of her adapting to life on Earth. I already loved the show, but Lake and her story were what cemented it as my favorite show.

2: I've always been a fan of the supernatural. Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, mythology, and to some extent Sci-fi. (Still love it, just think I generally prefer the other stuff) It's a lot of fun to think about and see explored in fiction. I was a huge fan of mythology and Rick Riordan's books as a kid, so seeing Percy Jackson being adapted into a show has been AMAZING. The movies were frankly terrible, but that's a rant on its own. Outside of that, I like stories with a mystery to solve and twists that you COULD have seen coming with what was provided but probably didn't. It's fun seeing how communities can come together to find secrets and discuss things. Found Family is another one of my favorite themes. Not sure I need much of an explanation there. It's just an amazing trope to see.

When it comes to video games, I love RPGs, metroidvanias, platformers and puzzle games. I play a lot of different types of games, but those are my favorites. I don't talk about it much on here, but I'm a programmer. I'm still learning, but making games is my DREAM. There are so many ways to tell a story through the medium that you can't get anywhere else. The interactive nature of a game allows for so much exploration of the characters and world at large, and I love it. Rather than just watching the story play out on screen, you get to be a part of it. I love games that get a little meta. Games that make the player a part of the story like Oneshot, Deltarune and Undertale. I like games that take the established mechanics of a game and make it a part of the world. Underhero is a game that does this well. Pretty much every part of the game has some in-universe explanation as you progress through the amazing story. The game is incredibly underrated; I highly recommend it.

So, yeah. When it comes to games, I love stories that embrace their nature as a game and make it a part of the world. Video games are truly unique among storytelling mediums, and I love seeing it used as such. You don't really see any other mediums doing things like that, but it's always cool to see.

In no particular order, some of my favorite stories recently have been: Infinity Train, The Owl House, Steven Universe, Gwenpool, Nimona, Spy x Family, Spiderverse, Fionna and Cake, Oneshot, Undertale, Deltarune, Underhero, Epithet Erased, and the Percy Jackson series as a whole.

I think that's it for now. If anyone has anything else they'd like to hear me talk about, my ask box is always open!