#not just to write something about fnaf

[puhpandas]

what are u guys' dream game after sotm? since itll be the last game centered around the mimics backstory and integration and stuff (hopefully) theres basically a whole world of possibilities for currently neglected storylines lol

[luckyartdrawer]

(Bitter) Sweet! Art & Drabble

For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list! There's still plenty of time before the first prompt is due (Jan 12th), and there's 2 other prompts as well for the month! Definitely check it out lovelies! <3

Drabble name: Instability Of The Heart Contents: Sun x reader, Heavy Pinning, Bitter Sweetness Chosen Words: Clouds, Opals, Celebration, Star-crossed, Letting Go, Hope, Candle Word Count: 1,625

AO3 version now available!

Ch 2. Moon, Ch 3. Eclipse

(Close Ups are also at the bottom <3)

It’s been a whole year…

Unsure how to approach the festivities now, Sun decided to find a quiet spot instead, spending all morning setting things up to participate in his own way. He couldn't not join in, but it just wouldn't be right to go back into the thick of it either.

The not-too-far-off town square, only a mile below his expanse of cloud, is alive in the lieu of celebration. The live orchestra plays the same casual songs, their passion dying the expanse of clouds they rest upon pink with their infectious energy, and the music drifts up clear as day to his ears despite the distance. The community brightens at each strum of a chord, chatter so lively that they create lyrics to their own song. They all are so alight that even once the sun sets, not even a single candle will be necessary to keep the festival bathed in a warm glow.

Sun sighed as he looked towards his namesake, feeling both relief and dread seeing it only moved a little since he last checked, located slightly past the center of the sky above him. Any moment now the square should clear its center and engage in its Hearthwarming Dance.

A spark crackles in his chest, sending longing pangs to his heart and head. It swirls through the burning magma and dips through every ligament, the tips of his fingers and toes buzzing with the itch to do something.

He turns to his partner, waiting for the first note of the new song to swell before grabbing their soft hand and whispering,

“May I have this dance?”

Without his usual banter, Sun embraces them and sways to the familiar beat without hesitation.

Upon closing his eyes, he is suddenly not dancing on a patchy field of clouds, but rather upon a lively opal plaza shimmering in the warm sunlight; the polished stone reflecting all those lovely pink clouds to create a mosaic, speckled with a rainbow of beautiful color.

Yet, the way you shined changed everything. It had completely ruined his view of beauty.

Your smile glistened through the sheer cloud of stardust that orbits around your form. Your eyes were as hypnotic as the ring of light you absorb, blindingly white before turning into a pitch black that's impossible for him to comprehend. He could barely even remember what you wore that day, too busy memorizing your face.

You were a star that had gone supernova, a rarity unseen for the last 3 centuries, let alone for a star of your kind.

Even the thought of your imagery causes him to inhale sharply. He clutches at his partner tightly, mindless of the give as he steps around in a traditional dance.

You were so scared when the change happened all those months ago...

Sun had found you holed up in your dark room, begging him to not look at you. He had initially come over to barge down your door for being an hour late to meet him, only to find your home was unlocked. It wasn't too unusual, so he welcomed himself inside, used to doing so after years of friendship.

His bitterness over how you kept him waiting for so long evaporated at finding your tearful state, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for your usual wear and voice.

He's still ashamed to say that he was enraptured by you despite the state you were in.

You were a glimmering dwarf star before, enchanting enough as is, and yet somehow you turned into something even more bewitching, compounding his years of desire into something even stronger. It felt right. Not to see you sad, but to see you in that form. Everything about it felt like you. The pull was indescribable in every step he took, the very essence of you invading his senses.

As soon as he recounts reassuring you, drying your tears, and pulling you into a hug; he snaps back to having you in his arms in the light of day, grasping his right hand and prancing with ease across the square, expertly avoiding other participants.

The magnetic pull is intense, the need to somehow get closer and closer was nearly impossible to ignore. He wanted to run away from such a force, yet he only clutched your hand tighter as he spun you, pulling your back into his chest and locking you there for a beat too long.

He was so afraid that you could read his every move, regardless of knowing your sheer obliviousness to his desires.

You always playfully indulged his yearly insistence of being your dance partner, yet nothing had come of it from either side. But this time, his gaze was constantly locked with yours, unable to break contact. His possessive grip had ensnared you, barely leaving even an inch between you. He couldn't help but pause, disregarding the mass of bodies moving around him, wanting to hold you forever.

How could it not be obvious?

Regardless, he knew it was inevitable he'd spill out his soul to you soon, barely able to restrain his lips from colliding into yours at that very moment.

He hoped, he prayed, he begged like a mantra to the celestial mother that you'd feel the same. That this magnetism isn't so one sided. That restraint would one day be unnecessary and he'd finally be able to drink in the flavor of your kiss.

Only mere seconds had passed when he released you from his hold, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Perhaps to you, nothing did happen.

Would that explain what had happened?

He spent that whole day with you, following you to vendors with traditional carbon foods and indulging in your proximity as you'd graze hands and bump shoulders on occasion, finally left comfortably alone as the town's people were accustomed to your new appearance by then.

He was more than happy to scoop you up the moment you said you were getting tired and overwhelmed. You insisted that you didn't want the fun to end, but he could tell by the sound of your voice that you at least needed a change of pace.

The sun was setting when he leapt up stray puffs of clouds to the field above the plaza. He pranced in circles, leaping gaps to the dying beats of music, and teasing about dropping you through them when you didn't believe he could cross. Your rivers of laughter only fueled his audacity, as he never wanted to hear them end. Inevitably, his foot barely slipped off the edge of one of his more daring jumps, causing the two of you to fall forward and collide with the cloud beneath you.

Despite the grunt the two of you made at the impact, you were quick to laugh at Sun’s failure, teasing him about his cockiness biting him in the behind.

But Sun couldn't ignore the press of his body on top of yours, the echoing melody of your voice ensnaring his throat, refusing to allow him to even draw breath, let alone words. His mind fogged over, the only reprieve to his pinning troubles all pointed towards you, and he desperately needed that relief.

Your lips were more delicious than he could have ever dreamed of, your endearing expression was wide eyed and glowing.

Glowing so much that he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to recuperate, despite how much he wanted to savor your appearance.

And then with a fluttering blink, he's back in the present, kneeling down in the same position over some sad facimally of you. The cloud he molded this morning was mangled already from his delusions, but due to his fall it had melded into the cloud below it, its pink color feeling more taunting than sweet.

Sun looked down at his hand to find a tiny piece of said cloud still in it, a tear welling up in his eye.

It was too fitting.

In that original moment, it was as if you dissolved right in his arms after that kiss, but he refuses to believe anything bad happened. He searched your home, your favorite places, and even contacted your friends and family. No one knew where you were.

Some believed you to be dead after he finally admitted what happened between the two of you.

He vehemently denied that possibility, despite the plausibility. You were barely older than he was, still spry with centuries of life ahead of you. You couldn't just die from a kiss…

The only spark of hope he was given was when he questioned one of the elder Neutron stars, one of whom recalled personally knowing a singular supernova; one who had been taken suddenly to a world beyond the sky to contain their unstable make up. They had returned only once to explain their departure, before saying goodbye for their next one shortly after.

Sun brought the small puff of cloud to his lips – it should have been your hand.

He couldn't repress the tear that escaped him.

It's been a year since your disappearance. He still hasn't given up on his star-crossed lover, if he may even call you that. Your sudden departure left him wanting, stagnant, unsure of so many things.

If you reciprocated, wouldn't you have come back to him by now..?

Overtime, many have caught onto his depressed demeanor and advised him that it's best to learn to let go.

Preaching that waiting is fruitless.

Denouncing the Neutron’s tall tale of some magical plain snatching you away.

Scolding Sun for ruining his life over some runaway star.

However, he cannot help it; you own all the hope he has left. As he is unfortunately, completely, woefully in love with you.

Close Ups!

[chocolix76]

Word count: 1,358

Dads are not supposed to be giant humanoid yellow rabbits with sunken blue eyes. Most of all, dads are not supposed to be robotic murderers.

Those were the only thoughts running through Oswald’s mind as he paced back and forth across his room, occasionally pausing as he listened for the tell tale metal thumps of the rabbit’s footsteps. The thing that was pretending to be his dad. 

Just a few weeks ago, Oswald was sitting at a dirty wooden table at Jeff’s Pizzeria daydreaming about his first day in sixth grade. What new friends would he make when most of the town left after the mill closed? How much homework would he get in middle school? Oswald didn’t know that his life would soon be turned upside down by a time traveling ball pit and a killer robot that wanted to be his dad. This whole experience gave a new meaning to a saying his mother loved to abuse. Be careful what you wish for.

Minutes blended into an hour, Oswald pacing back and forth across his dimly lit room brainstorming ideas of how to get his father back without the rabbit catching him first. The rabbit had every opportunity to kill him by now. So why hadn’t it? Before he had the chance to grasp at reasons why the rabbit was playing with him like a cat before slaughtering its prey, Oswald heard the signature stomping of the rabbit approaching his bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he immediately dove under his bed just as the robot slowly opened the door.

Light from the hallway poured into Oswald’s room, the rabbit’s massive figure casting a horrific shadow across his bed. As the robot lumbered into his room, its large head swiveling around in search of Oswald, he covered his mouth and nose with the palm of his hand attempting to muffle the sound of his ragged breathing. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and for a moment, he feared the rabbit could hear it too. This was the end. He had nowhere to run and his mom was at work. For a fleeting moment he wondered how long it would take for his mother to find his body. Maybe the rabbit would erase him from her memory altogether.

Through the fringes of Oswald’s yellow and green checkered bedspread, he could see the rabbit approaching the side of the bed. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, his entire body trembling as the silence of the room was broken by the ear splitting squeaks of metal in severe need of oiling as the rabbit lowered itself to one knee. A large, yellow hand lifted up the bedspread, the rabbit’s piercing blue eyes illuminating the underside of the bed.

Bits and pieces of what he had seen through the doorway the night the rabbit stole his father away flashed before Oswald’s eyes. Five children not much younger than he were lying on the white and black checkered floor. Blood that nearly looked black in the dim lighting coating the floor and walls, staining the children’s clothing. None of them were moving. One body was facing the door, the corpse’s unseeing brown eyes boring into Oswald’s soul. He was next. He would become the sixth victim of the rabbit’s massacre. However, instead of grabbing Oswald’s arm and pulling him out from under the bed, the rabbit made a beckoning motion, stepping back to give him space to climb out from his hiding spot.

“What do you want from me?” Oswald demanded, hating how his voice wavered and cracked and how his body still trembled so violently he wasn’t confident his legs would be able to hold him. 

He wasn’t sure how he expected the rabbit to respond considering it couldn’t speak, or at least never made an effort to speak before, but it calmly motioning towards his desk was the last thing he expected. When caught between doing what the rabbit asked or risking facing its wrath, Oswald decided climbing out from under the bed and allowing himself to be guided towards his desk was the safest option.

The rabbit patted the swivel chair Oswald had picked out on a shopping trip with his parents before it took a seat on a wooden chair it had borrowed from the kitchen. The wood creaked and groaned under the robot’s weight, but the rabbit paid it no mind. It simply sat there patiently waiting for Oswald to sit down, its head tilted ever so slightly.

As Oswald slowly sat down, keeping the rabbit in his peripheral vision, he noticed that the robot had taken out a lined piece of paper and the instructions to his history essay, laying it neatly on the desk. Oswald glanced from the empty piece of paper to the rabbit who looked at him expectantly. Almost innocently. He fought back the urge to laugh, or cry, about the absurdity of it all. This was not his father, so why was it pretending to be? Was this some sort of cruel game?

He tried to take a pen to paper simply to please the imposter, terrified that his head would be crushed between the rabbit’s large, flat teeth if he didn’t do what he was asked. A few agonizing minutes ticked by, his mind unable to conjure any useful information to put together an introduction paragraph. All he could think of was the animatronic rabbit sitting within arms reach. It was impossible to focus like this and, somehow, the rabbit caught on.

In an eerie mimicry of a sigh, the rabbit placed one large hand on Oswald’s shoulder, leading him out of his seat and down the hallway with an almost parental care. Oswald wanted nothing more than to scream and run away, but that would do him more harm than good. The rabbit led Oswald to the dining room, pulling out a chair for him to sit down before disappearing into the kitchen.

The scratchy sound of distorted humming wafted from the kitchen along with the sounds of the rabbit rummaging around through the cabinets. Oswald glanced over his shoulder at the front door, wondering how easy it would be to slip through the rabbit’s fingers and escape to the pizzeria to have another crack at saving his father. However, what harm could humoring the rabbit do? Maybe it would make things a little easier on his end if the rabbit believed that Oswald had somewhat accepted him. 

The banging around in the cabinets soon came to an end as the rabbit produced a tray covered in snacks, placing the tray in front of Oswald before gently ruffling his hair with a giant hand. Air caught in Oswald’s throat as he stared down at the tray in front of him, imagining it as a giant pizza box. Was this the rabbit’s way of luring him into being its next victim, or was this the rabbit being genuinely kind? 

“Why are you being so nice to me? I saw you mur-…I saw you kidnap my dad. Why are you trying to help me with my homework and…do all this?” Oswald asked, staring at the rabbit expectantly. After a few seconds, he felt a bit stupid interrogating the mute animatronic. However, if it really wanted to answer, maybe it could write something down for him.

Instead, the rabbit simply shrugged. It nudged the tray closer to him, Oswald barely able to process the fact that the tray was neatly decorated with baby carrots and apple slices, a bag of chips sitting in the corner. Noticing something purple peeking out from underneath the bag of chips, Oswald moved it aside to see that the rabbit had drawn a little heart on a purple sticky note, along with a childish portrait of Oswald underneath. Abruptly, any trace of an appetite vanished as he stared at the sticky note in terror, unsure if it was a taunt or a genuine proclamation of parental affection. At this point, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

All he knew was that he needed to get his real dad back and soon.

[rhys-ravenfeather]

I think a lot sometimes about that one post that's like 'one person's power fantasy is another person's horror story'...

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

for the past 4 days, i've descended into madness over the anon getting turned into an animatronic. behold. 2.6k words @get-rammed i've gone insane

as always, i spew BTS lore in the tags

“Alright, that’s everything,” his Handler announces, finishing the paint on his last claw. They give his hand a satisfied pat. Monty watches as they turn away and begin packing up their things, making idle chatter as they do, offhandedly mentioning that they hope it isn’t too late by the time they actually get to head home. They told him earlier that they’ve got a meeting with the higher-ups once they’re done tonight, and it’s been weighing on him all day.

“I don’t think you should go to that meeting,” he says because he can’t take it any longer.

They pause. “What do you mean?”

“I just… I don’t think you should go.” Monty clenches his fists in his lap. It doesn’t feel right. If it was any other lame meeting announced in a staff email, sure, but this isn’t one of those. They were approached in person. No documents, nothing written; just pulled them aside this morning and told them something about enhancing the Handler experience. All of the other Handlers have gone home already, too, and there’s nothing that they could want just his for that meant anything good.

They huff fondly. “I don’t really have a choice, Monty.”

They keep getting ready, a sinking feeling forming in Monty. He tries again to explain that it’s a bad idea again but is gently shut down. His Handler hugs his head on their way out, an act he’d usually eat up and crave more of, but tonight, he feels like rejecting it. It just feels so wrong.

“Sweets, please, don’t go.” He grabs onto their sleeve. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

Their face softens. “I hear you, Monty, but I have to. I’ll probably get fired if I don’t.” They laugh a little. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Worst-case scenario, they dump a mountain of work on me. Everything’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, big guy.”

—

They announced a new animatronic the very next day.

The announcement made Monty raise a brow because even with his debut as a Glamrock, as rushed as it was, Fazzbear Entertainment still took their time to milk it for all its worth. Surely, with a brand-new animatronic, they’d pull out all of the theatrics. But, no, management had just called everyone backstage (Monty was grabbed by Chica’s Handler because his still wasn’t here, and it worried him. They always tell him if they’re going to be late) and spilled the news.

It’s another gator, which, geez, thanks, corporate. It’s dressed in actual clothes, unlike the rest of them. It’s a little smaller than Monty, with a sleeker design. Monty eyes the new thing up and down. There’s something… wrong with it. Monty feels it. So does the rest of the band. It stands across from them, eyes too wide, taking in too much yet too little information at the same time. Its hands are clutched together, held tightly to its chest. It’s a shambling mess, really. Barely finished and definitely not ready for crowds. The thing really needs a Handler, which only reminds Monty of the empty space by his side.

It’s different from them. It doesn’t fill its body like it’s supposed to. A feeling of uneasiness washes over the room. Even the other Handlers look a little disturbed.

After the incredibly lackluster introduction, dampened by the uneasiness of everyone in the room, management gives up on pleasantries and snaps at everyone to prepare for opening time. They leave without further explanation, not even telling everyone what the newcomer is supposed to be doing. Everyone takes the chance to leave as fast as possible, abandoning the barely functional animatronic where it stands.

Something in Monty tells him to linger, as disturbed as he is. The sinking feeling he had last night returns tenfold.

It looks too familiar. Cautiously, Monty approaches the thing, eyeing the uniform it wears. He dares not to peek at the nametag displayed proudly on its chest. The animatronic tilts its head up at him slightly, or at least it tries. Monty can hear the inner mechanics going, but it remains frozen. He stands uncomfortably in front of it, unsure of what to do. Everything about it feels wrong. Everything about this feels wrong.

He peeks at the nametag, and his world comes crashing down. Surely not. They couldn’t have shoved a whole person, a full consciousness, inside of an animatronic, could they? That technology doesn’t exist, right? Right?

Monty reaches out a shaking hand, staring into the bot’s blank, red eyes. It can’t be. Fazzbear has done some fucked up, shady stuff, but they wouldn’t do this, would they? This has to be too far. It has to. His hand touches their forearm, feeling the all-too-familiar fabric of the Handler uniforms under his finger pads. He meets their eyes, registering the terror behind their blank stare.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, it’s... I, uh-”

“M-” Their voice fries out, and their jaw moves unnaturally. But it’s enough for Monty. That’s their voice. That’s their voice. Monty feels something vile fester inside of him. If he could get sick, he would. That’s them. That’s them in there. They’re in there. That’s his Handler, who he saw just last night, in there.

Their stare is so blank. Their hands are clutched together so tightly. That’s them.

“Oh, sweets…”

His hands slide down their arms to take their hands, snagging his thumb on the cuff of their uniform as he goes. Something there catches his eyes, though, something a human eye would miss, but something he’s been trained to notice. A tiny speckle of blood stained into the fabric. Their blood.

Monty sucks in a breath, his grip on their hands tightening. They were hurt when this was done to them. They bled.

“Let’s go to my green room,” he says. He keeps his voice gentle, but there’s also no room to argue. He doesn’t think they could, anyway. They don’t respond to him or make any kind of movement, so Monty moves for them. Slowly, painfully, he guides them up to his green room, keeping a gentle set of hands on them the entire way. They stumble and would’ve fallen without Monty to catch them. Their tail drags limply behind them. They probably don’t know how to use it for balance yet. The word yet makes Monty’s heart hurt.

He ensures the door stays open as they shuffle into his room, hovering over them until they’ve been cautiously guided to sit on the couch. They don’t need to struggle to stand anymore. Monty doesn’t think he could handle seeing it.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he says. It’s a lie. It’s an awful, horrible lie, but what else is he supposed to say?

They try to speak again, but their voice fries into something that sounds like a quiet cry. Their body begins to tremble, their hands clenching around each other even harder. All tell-tale signs that they’re crying, but they don’t have tears anymore. Instead, their eyes just stare into the wall, unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry, sweets,” he says as they weep. He sits beside them on the couch, cautiously wrapping his body around theirs. He doesn’t know if the different sensations will upset them even further, but he also doesn’t know what else to do.

“H-” A billow of steam rolls out of their jaw, rattling their whole system. The sudden movement startles Monty, making him pull away.

“Hey, sweets, you-” Monty glances into their eyes, wide, sightless, terrified, with a slack jaw pouring steam, “you need to calm down. I know it seems like I’m askin’ the impossible of ya, but you’ll overheat yourself, and I dunno how to fix that.”

Their body shudders, unresponsive to their mind. Monty doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to help. He remembers what they did when he first came online and when he was given his new body. They surrounded him with familiar, comforting things, but his Handler doesn’t live here like he does. At least they didn’t. Their greatest comforts are probably far out of Monty’s reach. He searches around his green room, trying to find anything he knows helps them relax.

He spots a fidget they used to love playing with during his noon charging sessions. It should be simple enough; it just needs a pushing and pulling motion. Nothing complicated. But his Handler’s hands don’t react, even as he pries them apart and presses the fidget into their palm. Their fingers remain tense, not even twitching.

“Okay, something easier. I got it. I’ve got you.”

Monty reaches and grabs one of the oversized plushies lying beside the two of them on the couch. It’s big enough for him to comfortably interact with, so it should be good enough for them, too, right? He places the weighted plush in their lap, tucking its arms in so his Handler doesn’t have to do it themself. It looks like they try to wrap their arms around the plush, but the thing just ends up getting knocked to the floor. The failure to get their arms to work only serves to upset his Handler more as their hands begin trembling, the metal of the digits clinking together. 

Monty looks up at them, scared for them. Scared with them. If they can’t function, they’re going to be decommissioned– not fired, not still alive, decommissioned and dead. Gone forever. Their head has turned slightly, staring intensely at something, so Monty follows their line of sight. His gaze lands on their jacket that they accidentally left last night, draped across a chair. Now a little shaky himself, Monty gets up and retrieves it for them.

He realizes once he gets back that it doesn’t fit them anymore. It used to be so big on them, but it doesn’t fit now. Their favorite jacket, the one they wore every day, doesn’t fit anymore. He drapes it over their shoulders, bringing it around them tightly. Their shoulders are bigger under his hands. Wider. Their body is like his own now and so very, very different from what it used to be.

He retakes their hands, kneeling in front of them. He meets their eyes, which stare deep into whatever kind of soul he has.

“Look at me, Chere,” he says, squeezing their hands, trying to ground them. He’d tell them to breathe with him, but they can’t anymore, and he doesn’t know if that’ll help or upset them. “I’ve got you. I promise. I won’t ever, ever let anything else happen to you. I promise.”

Their hands squeeze his own, and Monty lets out his own version of a sigh of relief. The shaking in their limbs begins to die down, the steam eventually coming to an end. He smiles at them, keeping his hold on their hands solid. He praises them softly, rubbing their knuckles.

Their eyes meet his properly, and Monty can see the hurt and the fear in their eyes. They shift, jaw moving experimentally.

“I… can’t breathe,” they say.

Monty’s heart breaks for them. They try to shift, try to grab onto their jacket and pull it tighter around them, but their limbs won’t cooperate, and the metal of their fingers slips against the satin material.

“Here, you gotta… you gotta grip with the pads of your fingers. Like this,” Monty says, taking hold of their hands and guiding their fingers to do so. A shudder runs through their system, getting their hands to tighten and pull, if only slightly.

Monty steps back to take another look at the design of their new body. A gator, like him. Their hair is soft and synthetic, with a little product to keep it sleek, so at least that wasn’t taken from them. In a bitter-sweet kind of way, Monty can imagine helping them style their hair in the morning when the dust settles. But Monty still has trouble adjusting to his mohawk, so he can’t imagine what it’s like for them right now. How long it’ll take for that dust to settle. They’re smaller than him. Sleeker. A little more compact and able to fit into tighter spaces. Probably equipped with the same processing power Monty has, and he prays to whatever is out there, none of the guardrails. Overall, they’re… built to work. They were hurt, maybe even killed, their body broken, disposed of, and shoved into this body to work. To work! They never get to go home again; they never get to have a life outside of the Pizzaplex ever again, all so Fazzbear Entertainment could have another obedient little worker.

Monty shoves down his anger. They don’t need that right now. Instead, he turns his energy to muster up the best smile he can, affirming the correct motions with their hands.

“There you go, you’ve got it.” His smile wavers a little at their silence. 

They stare at their hands, their new, robotic, alien hands. Hands that don’t listen when they tell them to move. A body that doesn’t listen. They grip around the fabric of their jacket, feeling, in a way, the mechanics whirr in their arms. But they don’t feel the silky fabric anywhere but their finger pads. They feel the warmth of Monty in front of them, holding onto them, but only in broad strokes. It’s not like skin. It’ll never be like skin. There’s no more blood, only coolant (they feel so cold), no nerves, no organs. No lungs. Those things are still there, in a way, in a robotic sense.

All of the essential bits keeping their body moving are still there. But it’s not their body. Flashes of blood and mutilation streak across their vision the longer they stare. They have claws now. And a snout. And a tail. They always thought it’d be kind of cool to have a tail, who doesn’t, but not like this. They don’t want this. They want to go home and lay in bed and fall asleep and hope that this is some god-awful dream. They want to fight with their ID at the stupid maintenance tunnel exit, and drive home tired, and wake up five hours later to come to work and do it all over again. 

“... sweets?”

They look up to Monty, sight still a little unclear. He looks worried. He looks scared. They don’t think they’ve ever seen him scared. He tentatively takes their hands, prying the fabric away before they rip something.

They stay there, Monty kneeling, Handler sitting, staring at each other. Lost, scared, confused. Neither quite sure what to say.

“I wanna go home,” they eventually settle on. They can see the resolve in Monty crack.

“I know, sweets.” He rubs their knuckles again. They’re disturbed by how little they can feel of it. “I’m so sorry they did this to you.”

They want to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he has nothing to be sorry for, but the words don’t come to them. So, instead, they sit in silence. Awful, dreadful silence.

Eventually, Monty stands, still holding their hands in his. “You’ve gotta be getting… tired,” he murmurs. “Here, I’ll show you how to get charged.”

His Handler know how. They’ve helped Monty settle in to get charged a million times. But it’s different now. They need to charge. Their battery isn’t running low, they don’t think anyway, but the emotional drain is enough for them to take the carefully offered out. Monty gets them set up, gently explaining things as he goes, like what it’s going to feel like at first and how entering standby will kind of feel like sleeping (at least, what he’s pretty sure sleeping feels like). When everything is said and done, and Monty is sure they’ll be out for a while, he turns to eye the big door that separates his room from the rest of the Pizzaplex.

His curtains are closed, and he’s going to make sure it stays that way. For a long time.

[crumbleclub]

Anyway. Mike regaining a sense of bodily autonomy after years of trauma and being given the impression that he's not allowed to have boundaries or make choices.

Haircuts, piercings. He can change how he looks, if he wants. Nobody can stop him. He can lock his door, and people have to knock rather than just barging in. No one can make him lie for them, or force him to lie to himself until he gets confused about what really happened. People can't touch him without asking. Nobody is allowed to go rifling through his belongings without permission.

[o-moonlightgardens-o]

So I know I haven’t posted anything since April started. And I know this isn’t a fandom blog.

BUT

I wrote this whole thing in, like, 3 days because it was the only thing I could manage to sit down and write. There may be more, there may not. But here you go, some Security Breach related stuff to fulfill my own desire after binging several others’ AUs.

Word count: 2758

Just like you and me, our performers have a past, too! At Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex, be a part of the storyline and experience the next great steps towards the future! Ask any of our animatronics about “the Story” and catch up on all the latest happenings!

…

It’s all a cover. An excuse for why they have no idea what the animatronics are doing. We don’t have control over them. Did we ever?

Everyone knows Freddy Fazbear, the very face of Fazbear Entertainment since it was founded by [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] all those years ago! But of course, Glamrock Freddy is more than his past!

After inheriting the family business from his father, Fredbear, Freddy started dreaming big! He got to work on finding ways to make the little town of Hurricane really stand out. And then it came to him: building a Mega Pizzaplex, full of fun for all ages, with him and his closest friends at the center stage!

Though many trials stood in his way [IMSTILLHERE], he, Bonnie, and Chica started performing at the newly-built Pizzaplex. Before long, they were joined by Roxanne Wolf and Montgomery Gator, drawn to them by their rise to fame and a desire to entertain. Lastly, Freddy invited Sun and Moon to take care of another attraction, the theater. [ONEMORE] [REMEMBER?]

[IWASWITHYOUINTHATTRUCK]

In just a few short years, Freddy was able to say that all of his dreams came true. He and his friends would perform for thousands of people—kids and adults alike—all day, giving out cake and presents to lucky birthday kids inbetween. The sight of all the happy people coming in and out of the Pizzaplex filled Freddy with joy! And as they all settled down into their new roles in the grand attraction, Freddy found another who filled him with joy… his old friend through it all, Bonnie.

Alas, not all good things can last forever. Last year, Bonnie decided to step down from the stage, saying goodbye to his close friends and giving his spot in the band to Monty. [ITWASME] Freddy was distraught at the news, but no worry! He’s back to entertaining and performing, ready for whatever new challenge may come his way!

…

Out of all the animatronics, Freddy has changed the least. Even if there was a lot of weird camera footage with him wandering around at night, and he ended up in places he didn’t remember going to… or how close he’s been to some of the disappearances lately…

He’s quite kind, actually. I’d say it’s hard to believe it’s all just programming, but I know it’s not. He carefully watches after each and every kid that he meets, making sure they’re all taken care of and get returned to their parents at the end of the day. I hope that that’s why he always seemed to be with the missing kids right before our video feed cuts out—he’s trying to bring them back home. But then there’s that rabbit kid Brooks saw with Freddy… right before Brooks got in an accident on the job and has been in the hospital since.

I’ve got to give Freddy credit, though, he’s pretty good at “keeping the story.” He’s never strayed far from what’s expected of him. Even after Bonnie’s decommissioning, he put on a brave face for the kids. I can tell how much it pained him to say Bonnie “retired,” how desperately he wanted to see some kind of body for himself… and how he forced himself to move on after everything else had gone back to how it was, as if Bonnie had never been there to begin with.

…

Freddy’s right-hand rabbit, Bonnie, has been with him since the beginning!

Having been close childhood friends, Bonnie was the first to learn of Freddy’s grand ambitions for an attraction in their humble town. He jumped at the opportunity to build something entirely new, taking on the role of the band’s guitarist.

While Freddy worked on the Pizzaplex as a whole, Bonnie focused on his own attraction: the bowling alley. When not performing or attending birthday parties, that’s where you could find him! He also took on an apprentice, Montgomery Gator.

Bonnie soon found himself realizing he was happiest by Freddy’s side, the two becoming nearly inseparable. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only thing Bonnie found joy in; the performances and parties had simply become work, mentoring Monty or helping kids learn to bowl became chores. [GIVECREDITWHEREDUE] At the behest of his bandmates, Bonnie stepped down from his role as lead guitarist, and passed it on to Monty. [IKILLEDTHERABBIT]

…

If Freddy was the stern parent figure who convinced kids to eat their pizza before their cake and get them to go home before closing, Bonnie was the one who snuck them cookies right before their parents picked them up. He got along really well with the kids—taught them a lot of things, not just bowling. I caught him helping someone with their homework once. Always seemed to be learning new stuff, too.

But there was one big difference between Freddy and Bonnie. Freddy made sure that no kid was alone, that they found their way back. Bonnie, meanwhile, wouldn’t get anywhere near a kid without a dozen others or their parents nearby. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them—far from it. But one way or another, I think he heard about the, ah… troubled past of Fazbear’s. How a man in a Bonnie suit pulled kids away and… murdered them. Bonnie feels that weight, the pressure of a past that certainly isn’t his. He got so worried when kids started disappearing and Freddy started acting weird…

I guess it isn’t a lie to say that he didn’t act like his old self in those few months before his decommissioning. But it was just because he was trying to figure out what was happening. And maybe he DID find something, and that’s why we still don’t know where his body is—just that he’s not coming back.

Wouldn’t be the first time Fazbear Entertainment’s pulled something like that.

…

Chica is the last of the original band to return for the Pizzaplex!

Another old friend of Freddy and Bonnie’s, she used to bake all kinds of sweets for the boys while they practiced. But when they invited her to join them, she was ecstatic! As soon as the Pizzaplex was in development, she was planning her own attraction for it: dozens of food stalls and, of course, Mazercise.

She’d always been a social individual, which helped her bring together others from all over to help in the Pizzaplex! Her fun attitude is what keeps people coming, cheerily greeting every guest and staff like old friends.

Though she used to help out in the kitchens, [EASYTODISTRACT] she now spends most of her time between shows in Mazercise and other attractions around the Pizzaplex. If you see her, say hello! She may have the latest scoop on the newest events happening in the Pizzaplex.

…

The only thing I can say is… poor Chica. Even disregarding the bug that makes her want to eat just about anything edible-looking, including some stuff that actually doesn’t, she’s often given the short end of the stick.

She’s not as dumb as her initial programming told her to be. In fact, I’m pretty sure she knows a lot more than she lets on. I might even say she’s… smart enough to know to keep that part a secret. When Freddy started acting weird, then Bonnie went missing, Chica didn’t question a thing. She knows questions don’t lead to answers at Fazbear Entertainment.

I wish I could say something to her—to all of them. But I keep feeling like someone’s watching me. I’ve got to be there for my daughter. I don’t want to get on the company’s bad side.

…

Roxanne Wolf is one of the two new faces in the Pizzaplex, fierce and confident!

A performer by heart, Roxy was no stranger to the nature of the stage. She was a makeup artist by day, and garage band enjoyer—if not member—by night. It was by the request of Chica—the two being close friends—that Roxy joined the band in the Pizzaplex. And boy, was she ready for the fame that awaited her!

Though her main role was to perform in the band with the others, her love of cosmetics never faded! Between performances, she’s often found in her own attraction, Roxy Raceway, either supervising the go-karts or helping out at her salon. Anyone who walks into her attraction is sure to come out invigorated, whether it be from go-kart fun or an amazing new look! [EASYTOBREAK]

Recently, Roxy’s been working on a new show behind the scenes to celebrate another year of the Pizzaplex! The work has been keeping her busy, but of course she still has some time for her loving fans! She can’t share very many details about it yet, even to her friends, only saying that it’s something big involving the Raceway…

…

I can’t say I was all that close to Roxy, but she seemed nice before just about everything in the Plex got bad. At least, she helped my daughter when no one had come to her birthday party. Roxy always seemed to care about her, which is good, because Roxy’s her favorite. I don’t know how I feel about Roxy being close to her now, though…

Nearly everything about the “recent story developments” is a cover up. The big event Roxy’s supposedly planning that keeps her so busy? An excuse to restrict how long she wanders, so that the techs can keep an eye on her and she can’t cause trouble. She’s gotten really obsessive lately, doing whatever she can to make herself look better. Not to mention she’s starting to insult guests about their appearances or skills. And then there was the time an older gentleman spilled his drink on her and she nearly made a scene in front of hundreds of guests…

The fact that the event’s happening in Roxy Raceway is just a lie, too. It’s the story they made up to hide the fact a giant sinkhole opened up in it. I suppose there’s a chance the company’s planning something for the anniversary, but it certainly isn’t happening soon. Last I heard, Officer Vanessa had insisted on investigating it all before they closed it up again. It’s been months now and she’s still saying there’s “more to do,” whatever that means…

…

Montgomery Gator is the newest member of the band, but not an entirely new face!

This gator’s humble beginnings start in an even smaller town than Hurricane, if one can imagine it! He was a part of a simple band called the Merry Melodies, but… he longed for something more than that. When he heard of the upcoming Pizzaplex and received an offer to join it, Monty packed up his things and moved to the growing city.

The new sights and sounds were fascinating, but a bit overwhelming. Bonnie took him on as an apprentice in order to help Monty adjust to everything that the Mega Pizzaplex had to offer. This was also when Monty started working on his own attraction, Gator Golf, fashioning the whole place to be a bit similar to the swamps he’d left behind. He did everything he could to prove himself to his new bandmates, quickly proving that the small-time banjo-player had the potential to become one of the biggest names in music history.

All of this effort soon paid off when Bonnie stepped down and gave his spot in the band to Monty last year. Monty loved the spotlight! But of course, the fame didn’t go to his head. [EASYTOTRICK] He used to spend a lot of time helping guests, though now he’s working alongside Roxy to bring an even greater performance to the Pizzaplex!

…

Monty had, in fact, let fame get to his head.

Before Bonnie was decommissioned, was Monty a little rude sometimes? Yes. His short temper certainly hadn’t magically appeared—it’s always been there, though it’s only gotten worse. But once he took Bonnie’s place in the band? There was no stopping Monty. He started to get overconfident and antagonize the others whenever they were given more attention than him. He didn’t want to share the spotlight. He wanted to take it.

That said… even if Bonnie was last seen in Gator Golf before management declared him lost, I don’t think Monty did it. Simply put: Monty’s kind of dumb. To decommission a band member, not just with no one knowing but STILL no one being able to find the body? He’s not capable of it. Not to mention, if he had done it… I think we’d all know. He boasts about a lot of things, some of them clearly not true, but doing something to Bonnie had never been one of them. And I remember the look he had when we told the animatronics that Bonnie was gone. Monty was just as mortified as the rest—he even joined the others in comforting Freddy. As desperate as Monty was for the spotlight, I doubt he wanted it to turn out that way.

But the clueless and generally-kind Montgomery seems to have been lost with Bonnie, now hardly able to go a single day without antagonizing guests, arguing with staff, or trashing anything that gets in his way…

…

Sun and Moon are the second of the new faces in the Pizzaplex, theater performers turned daycare attendants!

This unstoppable duo are inseparable—quite literally! The two share a body; Sun present whenever the light was shining, and Moon appearing whenever they were in darkness. [ILIKETHEDARK] Both were kind and friendly, though! They always had a knack for theatrics and performances, which was what first led them to the Mega Pizzaplex.

Noticing their talent, Freddy offered for them to take care of the Pizzaplex’s theater. They did all kinds of shows, from comedy to drama, and their love for the craft was strong. After a while, however, they began to notice something. Parents were often dropping off their kids at the theater and practically disappearing for the whole day. Someone needed to be there to properly take care of them!

So, they transitioned into taking charge of the Pizzaplex’s daycare. While it was a new experience, they were more than ready for the challenge! They soon found they enjoyed taking care of these little ones just as much as they had performing. Perhaps that was their true calling after all!

…

If I’m being honest, I think Sun and Moon are my favorite out of the animatronics… if not just because they cause the least trouble. Well, Sun doesn’t, and while Moon may, they never seem to mean it. They might look scary, but they really do try to avoid being frightening.

Sun is the more worried of the two, the one with the strongest sense of responsibility. He’s always making sure the kids all have their snacks, or that they don’t forget their toys, or making sure the few human daycare attendants we have get their breaks. But Moon’s the one that makes sure things—not just at the theater or daycare, but all over the Pizzaplex—run right on time and maintain structure. He makes sure everything happens exactly when it needs to and lasts for the right amount of time, down to the second. Pretty sure he checks every single clock in the Pizzaplex and makes sure they’re all on time whenever he goes on patrol…

They’re quite the marvel of technology, honestly. They’re able to communicate with each other and see what the active one does, so their transitions are usually seamless. I’ve been able to start a conversation with Sun and continue it right where I left off with Moon, once. There are some times the code gets confused, though—namely, when the lights flicker on or off. Since they weren’t expecting it, their programming doesn’t retain all of what they were doing before the switch. It’s not a bug bad enough we’ve been asked to fix it, though; someone just needs to explain to whoever’s active what the other was doing at the time they switched.

Reminds me a bit of my daughter’s friend, actually. There’s been a couple of times where he’d suddenly stop and had to be reminded of what he was doing before. He says it’s not a big deal, but I’m afraid there’s a lot more to it than that…

[puhpandas]

Rabbit Burrow

(3,785 words) Part 1 (part 2 found here)

Tony Becker, one year after surviving the attack from GGY, tracks down Gregory post-SB. But he has to get through Vanessa before he can get to Gregory.

Tony likes to think his detective skills are pretty good. So when he swings a leg over the seat of his bike and wheels it near the entrance, he hopes it's the right place.

He'd tracked down Gregory to this apartment complex somewhere in Gale county. It's still in Hurricane, and Tony had been able to reach it with just a bus ride. The apartment is somewhat run-down, but clean enough to where you can tell it's well kept, just old. The air conditioning units he passes on the way to the front door are brand new.

He'd taken the closest bus to Gale county right after school let out. He'd been restless all day up until finally acting on his findings. Tony has been searching for Gregory for a year. Finally finding something and having to wait for his middle school day to end was agonizing. He just hopes his Mom and Grandma wont be too mad at him.

He'd wrestled his bike he'd ridden to school that day discreetly onto the bus and wedged it in-between his legs and the seat in front of him. The air had been humid and thick all day with the signs of a storm, and Tony had seen the dark clouds and heard the thunder peeking over the treeline outside the bus window on the way here. He ducks inside the front door and beats the rain by seconds.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asks him, giving him a weird look when he steps inside. Shes a lady with long, styled black hair and covered in jewelry. Tony tries not to look too suspicious as he sends her a polite smile, heading to the elevator on the wall to the left. He would also be wary if someone he'd never seen walked into a resident building.

"Just seeing an old friend." He tells her. He presses the button to the third floor and tries to break her gaze by stepping behind the closing doors. The elevator shakes a bit before moving up.

He tries to take a deep breath. Theres some kind of excitement floating around in his chest at the fact that he's done it, but he pushes it down, lowering his expectations.

Despite his theories, he really has no clue what to expect. Theres some sort of worry mixing with the excitement, and all he decides is that if he escaped once, he can do it again.

It both took too long and not fast enough when he finally reaches the third floor. He double checks his crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand once, then a second time, something nervous but anticipating thrumming in his veins.

He steps onto the beige carpet of the long hallway, fresh vacuum marks in it, and follows the number plates by each door before coming to a stop near the middle of the hall.

3-05 The plate reads back to him. He quadruple checks his paper again. Its right.

He sighs out deeply, not even realizing he was holding his breath. Despite himself, his brows crease ever so slightly.

He shakes it away, pushing past it. Maybe digging too deep is what got him into trouble before, but its different now. Tony... Tony's learned things during his search for Gregorys location. If there was any point during his investigation that he would call digging too deep, it would have been months earlier from now.

Besides. Tony has always been bad at staving off his curiosity.

He thunks his knuckles on the white wood of the door quickly after that, three times in succession. He kind of bluescreens for a second when he realizes what he just did, then shakes it off. Waiting with wide eyes at the door, watching for a rattling of a doorknob or listening for incoming footsteps.

Nothing. He waits a few more minutes before knocking again, this time a little louder and harder.

Tony perks up when footsteps finally near the door, and his lips part prematurely when the doorknob rattles, not even put-together words yet on his tongue. They fall away immediately when a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail opens the door, one of those chain locks keeping it open maximum of three inches. "Hello?"

He stutters for a moment, words lost on his tongue, before he clears his throat, putting on a polite smile. "Hi, there." He says. "Um. Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that, kid." The woman raises a brow at him, never opening the door more than the chain lock allows it. She peers at him through the gap, and Tony tries as discreetly as possible to look past her head and shoulder into the apartment itself. "What are you doing here?"

When he looks back, shes still looking at him in a way Tony can only describe as cautious. The light in the hallway on the ceiling is flickering, and it casts split second shadows on the womans face that makes the bags under her eyes that much more prominent and her face that much more intimidating. "Well?"

Tony realizes he hasnt answered, and coughs slighty. "Oh. Sorry." He says, reluctant to continue. "I'm... I'm looking for Gregory."

Tony watches intensely to see if the name rings a bell or catches her attention. Just as he expects, her face twists ever so slightly in recognition. Tony catches something adjacent to panic or fear in her eyes until it's gone not half a second later.

"Who's asking?" She asks eventually, voice carefully even after a what appeared to Tony to be a mini conundrum in her head.

"His friend." He answers honestly. He ducks his head when the woman scrutinizes him, looking almost angry, but restrained enough to not show it. "I mean it," He says earnestly. "he and I... we were best friends. Last year. I came here to look for him."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly at that, and she studies him, eyes flicking back and forth over his face and his clothes and his hair. Tony doesnt miss the way her eyes linger for a millisecond on his scars. Its silent in the hall save for the two looking at eachother, and the buzzing of the flickering light on the ceiling is enough to save him from hearing his own heartbeat.

"Okay." She says eventually, and Tony subconsciously feels himself sag a bit at the relief that he won't turned away right as he was this close. She shuts the door without a word, and all Tony can do is stare at the peeling landlord white paint on the door as the sounds of the woman unlatching the multiple locks on the other side reach his ears. He waits patiently, until she cracks the door open not much wider than it had been with the lock, but just enough to fit his body in. "Come in. But no word to anyone. Got it?"

About what? Tony's about to ask, but then he steps through the door and the words die on his tongue.

"Oh." He says outwardly when Glamrock Freddy Fazbear sits on the couch. His body is adjacent to the patchwork quilt Tony has on his bed that his Grandma made him, and any of the makeup he had been painted with has long since scratched off.

His eyes are shut, and theres two jump cables attached to his ears that are plugged into a portable something. He doesn't so much as twitch when Tony enters the room.

The woman gives him a look after she re-locks only the deadbolt behind him and passes him into the apartment. "Oh." He repeats. "Not a word."

She nods at him, and it's only now that Tony can see the rest of her that isnt just her face. Shes in her twenties, if he had to guess, and she has a white tank top on with some sort of stain near the collar along with Hello Kitty fleece pajama pants. Her socks are mismatched and her nails are painted a purple color that could rival the deep bags under her eyes.

She collapses into an armchair (which hes pretty sure has a mismatched leg attached to it half-hazardously) and only looks at him silently as he steps further into the house, not so discreetly angling his body to get a peek past walls and open doors across the house.

Shes about to speak when Tony does first, "Wheres Greg?" He asks straight up. "Can I see him?"

Her lips twitch, and she just leans further back into the chair. The TV is playing some sort of Spring baking show, and the droning of the host mixes with the pattering of the rain on the window on the wall by the TV.

Anticipation and impatient-ness buzzes under his skin at being right here, and this woman undoubtedly knowing Gregory certainly doesnt help.

She only hesitates for a moment, but Tony can see the influx of thoughts that undoubtedly ran through her mind. She opens her mouth, taking a slow breath, before, "At school."

"He goes to school?" Tony gasps slightly, eyes widening. He moves to the couch, toeing past Freddy Fazbear as to not touch him even with just a brush of his jeans before sitting down, facing her. "What school?"

"He goes to Raindrop." The woman tells him, seemingly not hesitating this time.

It doesn't ring a bell, but it must be a middle school in Gale county. "...I go to Hailstorm." Tony says. "We both did. Or used to."

She stares at him after that, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. She says nothing, just scrutinizing him, before, "You sure have a lot of cryptic ways of telling me how you used to know Gregory."

He wants to apologize, because it seems like what to do in response to that statement, but for some reason, that feeling in his gut he's learned to trust as his Detective sense tells him that he shouldn't.

Shes still looking at him intensely, and the rain outside pattering on the window somehow feels louder. There's some thunder outside that rumbles the floor, and the lighting casts a shadow on the living room. A few white lines across the coffee table caused by the blinds covering the window.

Her face doesnt so much as twitch, he notices, and she doesn't blink when she looks at him. Her green eyes bore into him, almost glowing in the shadow cast beneath her bangs. It reminds him of how he'd done to her not minutes ago. What he does to people he wants to analyze. To see how they react to something.

That's what shes waiting for, he realizes. He has a feeling that if he doesnt match her cryptic bluntness and instead apologizes and caves that easily, that it will somehow result in her turning him away.

Theres a glint in her eye when he becomes aware of reality again enough to look, and he thinks she somehow just came to the conclusion that Tony figured it out.

Then, he tries to sit up a bit straighter, and muster up that same glint mirroring back at him. "You sure have a cryptic way of letting me know you dont trust me."

Her mouth twitches slightly, but its all Tony needs to know he'd guessed correctly.

Its silent for a moment, and the woman grabs the remote on the next arm over and pauses the baking show she'd been watching. She shifts in the red velvet seat, as if getting comfortable, before, "Tell me how you know Gregory, and I'll tell you how I know him."

He has a feeling he isnt getting to Gregory unless he gets through this woman first, so he clears his throat, leaning his forearms on his knees.

"Me and Gregory met early last year at the beginning of the school year." He begins. "Right after summer ended in August. He was the new kid, and he sat at our table at lunch since it was mostly empty. Me and my friend arent the most popular, so there was room to spare."

She waves a hand, signaling him to stop. "Your friend?" She asks. He nods. "How many of there were you?"

"...Just me and E-- my friend." He says. "There were two of us, and when Greg sat at our table, we remembered how he looked a little lost earlier in class and we introduced ourselves. Then we just... clicked, I guess. He would partner with us in creative writing."

"Writing, huh?" She smiles slightly.

"Yeah." He replies. "Then, it was just business as usual for the months afterwards." He pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket he loves so much that reminds him of the trenchcoats big city investigators wear. "Then... I had gotten wrapped up in this mystery."

She shifts, crossing a leg over the over and holding her hands together. "A mystery?"

Tony nods, remembering it like it was yesterday. He thumbs the part of arm where a scar is on his arm that his jacket covers. "The three of us would always go to the arcade in the Pizzaplex." He tells her. "And one day, I noticed high scores that seemed impossible to reach, and I became obsessed with solving who it was who had gotten there."

Tony thinks hes very good at reading people. So he doesn't think it's just his imagination when the woman in front of him goes a little rigid in her seat.

Theres some sort of creases under her eyes, Tony notices, that weren't there before.

"What did you do?" She asks.

Tony has a feeling that she somehow knows already. So he doesnt beat around the bush.

"I solved the mystery, eventually." Tony says. "Because GGY had been Gregory, and he'd invited me to the Pizzaplex and tried to kill me."

She sags a bit, looking somehow infinitely more tired, but no surprise detected. "But you survived."

"Not..." He shakes his head, picking at the skin by his fingernails. "I wouldn't have. If not for Greg saving me."

"Huh?"

"He--" Tony searches for the words, looking at the carpet between his knees and remembering that afternoon in every vivid detail he'd looked over countless times before. "He'd tried to kill me, yeah, but... he was almost fighting himself as he did it. He was like having a fistfight with himself."

He doesn't look up at her, he just keeps remembering how Gregory had gone rigid right before plunging the knife into Tony's gut a second time and stopped himself. How it had looked like somebody yanked Gregory backwards, but it had been his own self throwing his body. Just so he didnt hurt Tony again.

"He looked like he was a malfunctioning robot." He recalls. "He was like, hitting himself, and was making noises like he was fighting something. I was too frozen to move at the time, but then he threw me a really high security pass for the Pizzaplex and told me to run."

Then he had collapsed in front of him, like he was holding himself down. He doesn't tell the woman, though.

He looks back up to see her staring, eyes wide in suprise. She looks deep in thought for all but a few moments before shaking herself out of it. "So what did you do?"

"I ran." Tony says. "He had got me already. He stabbed me in the back, the first time. That was how I knew he was attacking me in the first place. But I ran away with the pass, and I went to a room with a ton of monitors and erased the security footage."

Her eyes blow wide as saucers, that time. "You got stabbed," she begins. "and instead of getting help, you erase the security footage?"

"Yeah." Tony nods. "Greg would have gotten in trouble if I didnt."

She's silent, after that. Tony just keeps picking at the skin on his fingers. "I somehow knew that Gregory didnt deserve to be. He just..." Tony trails off. "He didnt seem..."

"Seem like himself?" She suddenly cuts in, and Tony's eyes widen.

He nods, a small tilt of his head, and the woman sighs. "That's what being mind controlled will do to you."

A year ago, probably longer by now, Tony would have never believed that. He would have never thought something so outlandish that is only ever shown in fiction could be a possibility.

Not that he was wrong, to. Really, anyone in their right mind wouldnt think so. But things have changed since then.

And Tony has seen a lot of things during his search that probably nobody else has. Plus, This woman has been so cryptic up to this point. If she told him this straight up, and it's clear that she knows Gregory...

Suddenly, everything that day seems to make perfect sense. And everything he'd found that he'd filed away into his little mental Gregory crazy wall.

(He'd used to call it evidence wall, like normal people do. But, well, at some point, maybe Tony had thought the things he'd been finding were a bit too crazy to deem as normal.)

Theres been a stretch of silence while Tony had been taking that in, and he only breaks it to say, "Is mind control a topic you're familiar with in this house?"

Her eye twitches, a bit. And now that Tony is looking for it, he notices that same strange sheen on her eyes that Gregory had during their friendship. That weird red tinted film that makes their eyes turn a completely different color when the light hits them right.

Tony doesnt yet understand how the mind control Gregory had been under works, but all he can hope is that there are some side effects.

She stares at him, eyes narrow, and theres another roar of thunder outside the window.

"Who are you?"

"Tony." He answers. "Tony Becker. Ring a bell?"

She hums, and she looks at him in a way where he feels like he's being dissected.

"He didnt remember anything for a while." She says eventually. "But hes been having dreams, lately. Sometimes he talks about two kids he used to be friends with."

"Me and Ellis." Tony's eyes widen. It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't share Ellis's name.

"He worries about you." She says. "I've heard him say he hopes you're okay. You and that other kid. You must have been close if he remembers being that good of friends with the two of you."

"We were." Tony replies. Memories of him, Ellis, and Greg going to the Pizzaplex and trying to get the most dunks in the basketball hoops flash in his mind. He thinks about when Gregory would come over to Tony's little run down house that he shares with his Grandma, and they write graphic novels together for the fun of it.

Gregory liked to call them comics before he'd suddenly decided that stuff wasnt cool anymore and stopped coming over. It had been like everything Tony saw him enjoy that wasnt painfully average for a child suddenly didn't mean anything to him anymore.

And then Gregory tried to kill him in a dusty back room.

Everything hed given up seems to make more sense now. It wasnt willingly at all.

"He doesn't remember your names." She speaks up suddenly, ripping Tony out of his thoughts. "But he remembers more and more every time he has a dream. Something reminded him of you one day, I guess. That must have been when it started."

Tony opens his mouth, but the beeping of a digital clock interrupts him. He follows the womans arm as it reaches across the seat to turn it off.

The time reads 5:00pm.

He watches as she looks over at him, and nods to the door. "After school activity." She informs him, getting up out of the seat. His eyes follow her as she moves towards the front door. "I'm his ride."

Tony's eyes widen at the implications. "So I just--"

"Stay here." She tells him. She grabs a flannel off of the small coat rack by the front door and slips it on, sliding some Adidas sandals on top of her socks and reaching in the pocket of the coat to grab car keys. She pulls them out, and Tony notices that theres a keychain of a white rabbit dangling from the key ring.

The breath is suddenly stolen from his lungs, and he bolts off of the couch, a buzzing under his skin. "You're bringing him?"

She nods to Freddy Fazbear. "If you can wait." She smiles at him, and it's the first time Tony has seen her smile, instead of the carefully kept nonchalant-ness. "He'll wake up pretty soon once he's done charging. So you won't be completely alone."

Tony doesnt know what to say to that. Thousands of words spawned from the thousands of thoughts hes had about finding and tracking down Gregory are on the tip of his tongue, but he only gets any out when the woman begins to leave the house.

"Wait!" Tony reaches out a hand. She turns around, a brow raised. The door is still slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy rain reaches his ears. "What's your name?"

She smiles a bit at the question. "Vanessa."

"Vanessa," He asks, oddly desperate. "Dont tell him I'm here." He swallows. "I want to see him remember me."

Vanessa tilts her head, but nods after a moment. "Sure, kid."

She smiles one last time on her way out, and says, "Tony Becker."

The sound of the rain outside disperses when the door shuts and locks, and Tony doesnt move for a long while. He just stares at the landlord white door, electricity under his skin and something floaty in his stomach.

Greg. He thinks in his mind when he finally rips himself away and looks around some more, seeing a door propped slightly open down the hall with a bed and a desk with pencils and paper strewn all about. He doesn't dare go in, but stares at what he can see. Its been a while.

The silence is numbing, when he can only hear the faint whirring of Freddy Fazbear on the couch next to him and the rain on the window, he plants himself on the couch cushion next to the animatronic, grabbing the remote and resuming the baking show Vanessa had been watching.

He doesn't listen to a word. He just trembles with anticipation and bobs his leg up and down as he stares at a random corner of the screen.

ao3 link

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Gotta make something that's actually scary/suspenseful or something. Mind keeps telling me to. I've got vague ideas.

[chocolix76]

It would be very interesting that if Solar ever came back, he came back as a villain. Imagine how heartbreaking it would be for the celestial family? Finally, after months or even years of trying to bring back their beloved cousin/brother/friend (however you wanna view it) and he comes back twisted instead of the nice person the celestial family knew him as. Now they have another villain on their hands but this time it's someone they love and cherish

[giftgvr]

Also, can I just say a huge thank you everyone who's been sticking around! Ever since I picked Charlie up everyone's been so kind and receptive, you guys always say such nice things abt her and every time someone says they like my take it makes me happier than words could ever say <:]

I suppose I was just a little nervous since the novels (and books in general) tend to be less well received or have more mixed reception in the community, AND the fact that my take on Charliebot is extremely extremely divergent from book canon (ditching alot of the elements from the story bc I simply Do Not Vibe), I was worried she'd be "too out there" for other writers to get invested in bc most of the content is made by me. But what can I say? You proved me dead wrong!

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you everyone who's said she's cool. You know who else is cool? YOU! ♡

[1800-lemon-boy]

A letter to little me.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I took everything that made you happy.

I’m sorry that I went from thriving to surviving.

I’m sorry I cut off the long hair you took so much care to maintain.

I’m sorry that I cut people off that you thought would be there forever.

I’m sorry for the words you will say to others.

I’m sorry that you will mean it.

I’m sorry for what you will have to endure.

I’m sorry that you will feel alone.

I’m sorry you are alone.

I’m sorry that it will feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

I’m sorry that your own thoughts, the same ones that make up characters when you play mermaids, will scare you.

I’m sorry that you will have to protect yourself while protecting everyone else.

I am sorry that you will be taken as a joke, so much so that it will become your way to cope.

I’m sorry that not even your own family will believe you until you have taken irreversible action.

I’m sorry that dad’s side of the family will never treat you as an equal.

I’m sorry that you will always be seen for just your autism.

I’m sorry that mum and dad will wave you around like a trophy they did not earn.

I’m sorry that you will have to go through what I did.

I’m sorry that nowhere is safe for you.

I’m sorry that you won’t be able to go out in public without fear for your safety.

I’m sorry that you won’t remember most of your time as a kid.

I’m sorry that you will lose anything that tied you to me.

But the main thing is I’m sorry this happened to you.

You were too young to deal with that.

You

We were too young to deal with that.

I’m sorry that you are me.

I’m sorry that I am no longer you.

Lots of love (and luck because you will need it)

The older you,

Charlie <3

[retrospectislame]

(long post)

FNAF Security Breach Ruin theories that I'm sure people have thought of already but I'm still gonna post here because I havn't been able to stop thinking about this game:

(theories are seperated with a 🎈)

(also keep in mind that this is just my personal little theory ramble, I could absolutely be wrong)

🎈 I dont think we ever hear the real Gregory's voice in ruin.

Even when the mimic (That's what its called right? Or at least thats what we're calling it? Idk I'll just go with it) is chasing Cassie, when he's saying, "You were never supposed to go to the pizzaplex" and "Do you really have any other option?" (or smth like that-), I think that is still the mimic pretending to be Gregory.

Why? (more after break)

Well first of all, the instructions during the chase are coming from the walky talky that the mimic has been using to communicate with Cassie throughout the DLC. And like, don't get me wrong, but im pretty sure Gregory wouldn't be able to hack his way into the radio frequencies that the walky talkys are using. The same can be said for the speakers in the elevator before Cassie falls. To maybe even have a chance at communicating with Cassie through either of these, he would probably have to be in the building, which he explicitly says (even if it is the mimic talking) he isn't.

Also, Gregory talks about the M.X.E.S security system that was put in place to keep the mimic down there, but how would he know about that? And how would he know about the mimic being trapped down there to begin with? I mean sure, there is speculations that he had been living in the pizzaplex for a little bit, but i dont think that a evil, sentiant animitronic living down in the basement of a children's pizza place would exactly be considered public information, even if it is just among the employees. Not to mention that he probably wouldnt even be looking for that kind of information in the first place if he was living in the pizzaplex.

Finally, (even though I'm sure there's more things to back this up, I just don't want this to get too long lmao) how would Gregory even drop the elevator? Like I don't this theres a button labeled "button to drop the elevator thats in that old ruin under the pizzaplex," and to actually cut the cords he would have to be there which he isn't. The mimic is the one who most likely dropped the elevator, and if it wasn't them specfically, it was probably someone/thing that was working with them. (or also possibly the fact that that elevator is probably decades old and has probably had no maintainance whatsoever during that time and has also retained at least some fire damage and-) (<also, if the elevator did fall out of just extreme damage, the mimic probably knew that and thats why they led Cassie there)

🎈 But this also sprouts another question:

Why did the mimic drop the elevator?

Well, my theory is that it wanted to disguse itself.

I'm gonna say now that I don't fully know how most of the animitronics work (especially when it comes to the mimic) but I think that it's going to use Cassie's body as a way of hiding itself when it eventually (maybe) makes it up into the real world.

I also think that we may see Cassie again. How far into the future, I'm not sure, but I think we'll see her again eventually. Of course, if my theory happens to be correct, it's not going to be Cassie, but instead the mimic in disguise.

🎈The last thing I wanna talk about is just a few questions that I have now that ruin has been released:

How do Cassie and Gregory know each other? What is their relationship with each other? Are they friends? Siblings? Two runaways that met on the streets? How did they meet? Where the hell are these kids' parents?

Did Cass and Greg meet before SB or after? (before ruin of course) If they met before, then that raises a lot of questions. (How did they get separated before SB, why didn't he mention her at all during SB, etc. etc.)

How did the mimic contact Cassie at all? It probably chose her because 1. It already had a sample of Greg's voice, probably from when he went down there in SB, 2. She's a child, she's guillible enough to go wherever her friends ask her to go. But how???? The only possible way I can think of is call, text, maybe leave her a note, but I don't think she has a phone considering she's like 8, and leaving a note would require literally going to her house, which the mimic obviously can't do.

Who installed the M.X.E.S system in the first place? Was it one person trying to keep the mimic a secret? Was it Vanny? Vanessa? (considering the rabbit, it may be, but im not sure tbh) Was it the company that runs the pizzaplex just trying to hide the past wrong-doings of the previous owner and make more money?

Is the Glitchy Rabbit Thingy(TM) really evil? If you think about it, it may have only been trying to stop Cassie because she was disabling it, which would unleash the mimic and allow it to escape. Maybe the rabbit isn't as bad as we think.

Where is Music Man? Y'know the big one. Did he just retain so much damage that he doesn't work anymore? For a little bit I had thought that the giant endoskeleton in the daycare theater may be him, but after comparing the two, it's clear that they are just not the same model. (Music Man's arms are skinnier, it wouldn't make sense for him to have a jaw considering his mouth is a screen, head shape, etc. etc.) Speaking of which:

What the hell is that giant endoskeleton for? That's what I really wanna know. And why is it only there in the AR mode?

What does M.X.E.S stand for? I feel like that could be really important.

Uhhh, that's all I got for now I think. Thank you for coming to my ted talk lmao I don't really know how to end this-

[crumbleclub]

Something I think would destroy Michael when he finally got out of William's house:

At every turn, the adults who were supposed to care for him failed him. Now that he's an adult, nobody is expected to help him at all.

[puhpandas]

Tony Becker vs. a Panic Attack

(3,320 words)

Gregory helps Tony with a bully, but has a panic attack in the process. Tony helps him through it as much as hes able. (!!!warnings: a panic attack, a fistfight, implied/referenced past child abuse, pepper spray mention)

Tony had just been trying to get through the school day.

Usually, bullies leave them alone. Tony and Ellis and Gregory. It's not that they're immune, just that they're pretty much invisible. They're more ignored than ridiculed.

But of course, they've had their share of targetting. Enough to recognize which day is gonna be an eventful one, where the bullies decide to pick on them that day for whatever reason.

This is one of those days. Mitch Watterson is one of the more bigger, bulky kids in class. Not much of an airhead, but more just overconfident in himself because he grew up being feared by others.

At least that's what Tony thinks. He likes to do that. To try to understand why some people are the way they are. Its interesting to delve into what events could lead up to the person they are today.

Mitch has been eyeing him all day. First it started with mean stares, then turned into tossing paper balls at his head in class, until it eventually evolved into Mitch throwing taunts at his back.

Tony knew this was coming all day, which is why it isnt suprising when Mitch corners him at his locker, when school is minutes away from being let out for the weekend.

"How many did your dad kill again?" Mitch sneers at him when Tony hadn't reacted the way he wants so far. He'd been targeting basically the one thing Mitch knows about him that's a sore spot; his Dad. So far, it's taken everything in Tony to not spew what he thinks are facts at him, just to defend his Dad.

"Enough to get caught." Mitch grins at him, a glint in his eye that only gets more prominent when Tony finally reacts.

Tony furrows his brows so hard they hurt. He frowns as he says "He didnt kill anybody. It was just a felony--"

"It was just a felony." Mitch interrupts, his voice high in pitch to mock Tony's. "Heh. Why are you defending him, are you like him? You gonna kill me, too? Are you planning my murder right now?"

Tony grits his teeth as he slams his locker door shut, but he stays silent. He knows Mitch doesnt know what hes talking about, just saying things that may be hurtful, even if they dont make any sense. He really wants to hit Mitch right now, but he knows hes pretty average for his size while Mitch is big and beefy. He would be starting a fight he couldnt win.

Mitch doesnt seem to have the same restrictions, though. When Tony doesnt respond, he let's out a mean cackle and begins to step towards Tony menacingly.

"Maybe I should snuff you out before you can begin." He says, a mean smile on his face as he boxes Tony in. "You're the son of a criminal, and apples never fall far from the tree."

Tony knows that isnt what Mitch really cares about, hes just spewing bullcrap to rile up Tony before he beats him up. All Tony can do is back away to keep distance between him and Mitch, and he hisses under his breath when his back hits a wall.

Mitch cackles at the display, and Tony feels panic grip his chest. Mitch has Tony right where he wants him, and if he doesnt do something soon, Mitchs fists are soon gonna start flying.

Tony wracks his brain for a plan, or even just an idea on how to get out of this, and right as he begins to form a short half-hazardous plan, a figure steps in between him and Mitch.

If the blue shirt and spiky hair isnt indication enough, the fact that he can still see Mitch over the figures head definitely is.

Tony feels his heart drop when Gregory stands between him and Mitch, posture straightened and chest puffed out. Tony can only imagine the hatred and disgust twisted on Gregorys face right now, but he has no doubt it's there. It's an expression hes seen on his face multiple times when they witness bullying.

Tony freezes, not knowing what to do. He'd thought Gregory already left for the day. Mitch stops in his tracks too, looking at Gregory almost curiously. Sure, Gregory has a reputation in school for being tough and not someone you should mess with, but picking a fight with the biggest, meanest boy in class?

Tony cant see a scenario where this ends well.

Mitch seems to recover from the initial surprise quickly, and it's not long before an evil grin spreads across his face, and he laughs. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to step in."

Despite Mitch continuing to step forward, almost circling them, Gregory doesnt falter, and all he does is match Mitchs pace with a glint in his eye.

"Decided to help your little boyfriend?" Mitch sneers, a disgusted look on his face. "Cute. But stupid. You're no match for me, you know that, right?"

Gregory shakes his head. "There are things that matter more than brute strength." He says, and latently reaches for a pocket in his bag.

Tony thinks this is one of those times where Gregory says something super deep, that Tony cant get out of his head after he hears it, but Gregory doesnt continue that sentiment with something smart, all he says is,

"Plus, I hate bullies."

It's only then that Tony can see Mitchs eyes flick for just a moment, so fast he almost missed it, but Mitch looking directly at where Gregory was reaching and then back at him is too much to ignore.

Tony's eyes blow wide, and he reaches out. "Gregory, watch ou--!"

Mitch is on Gregory before he can finish. He dives at him, almost snarling as he goes to grab Gregory's arm. Gregory startles, moving his arm away from his pocket to use Mitchs momentum against him.

If theres one thing about Mitch, it's that hes painfully predictable. Before Mitch can grab ahold of Gregory's arm, Gregory thrusts his fist directly into Mitchs gut.

Mitch keels over, stopping in his tracks to hunch over. Kids in the hallway begin to stop and watch, murmuring travelling through the hall. Before Gregory can make another move, Mitch has recovered.

"Nice try," Mitch grits out, standing back up to full height, and Tony feels his breath get caught in his throat when Gregory doesnt move to get away. "but you'll have to do more than that to--"

Before Mitch can finish, Gregory's smashing his shoe into Mitchs knee.

At this point, a crowd has begun to form, and Tony can hear some kids ooooh at the blow.

Mitch folds, left supporting himself on his knee as his other one collapses under himself. He let's out some sort of garbled shriek, and Tony cant help the laugh that bursts out of him.

Gregory uses this opportunity to reach for his pocket again, for what is unknown to Tony, but Mitch notices, and when it processes, his eyes blow wide.

In a way that couldnt be predicted, Mitch somehow recovers prematurely, using newfound sudden strength to get to his feet and lunge at Gregory. Gregory doesnt even have time to try to dodge the attack, and he makes a suprised noise when Mitch grabs his shirt, tossing him against the lockers and keeping him there with a forearm pushed against his chest.

Gregory struggles, but his arms are trapped beneath Mitchs, and he isnt letting up anytime soon. Theres a pinch in Gregory's brow, and Tony is faintly aware of himself leaving the safety of the wall to take a step towards them, worried for Gregory, even though he cant do much to help.

Mitch pants, looking enraged. Gregory squirms under his weight, and he grits his teeth.

Mitchs free arm winds back. A punch is Tony's first guess, but the way hes positioned his hand, its not to punch Gregory, no. That's easy to recognize. For some unknown reason, instead, Mitch is winding his arm to backhand Gregory.

Tony almost freezes at the shock, movement staggering, but he catches a glimpse of Gregory's eyes from behind Mitchs bulky frame.

They're staring at Mitch, no his arm, reared back above Gregorys head and trembling with unfiltered rage.

Gregorys eyes, shockingly, are swimming with pure, unadulterated terror.

Tony has never seen Gregory look this way before. Gregory is looking at Mitch like hes winding up to kill him.

Mitch takes a deep breath, arm shaking with barely held back restraint. "This'll teach you not to mess with me--"

He readies his arm to strike, and Gregory flinches and squeezes his eyes shut, trembling badly. Tony thinks this is one of the moments where Gregory looks like a little kid.

Tony sees this go down from behind Mitch, something ugly gripping his chest and clouding his thoughts.

Without thinking, and with sudden strength not even he knew he had, Tony charges forward, shouldering the side of Mitchs body enough to displace him. Mitch cries out, his shock sending him scrambling for purchase as he looses balance.

Tony doesnt stick around to see Mitch fall, but he assumes it happens if the crowd all roaring in laughter is any indication. He reaches for Gregory, a firm grip on his arm, and he bolts.

Nobody follows them. In fact, the halls are completely empty, everyone having gathered for the fight or left the school. Tony pants as he sprints, eyes scanning for a place to hide.

He slows in front of the bathroom, skidding inside and dragging Gregory with him.

Tony releases Gregory, hunching over to support himself with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath, his heart hammering.

Adrenaline is still coursing through him, and he feels himself tremble, even after his refills his lungs and his legs stop burning from the sprint.

He takes one moment to listen, and see if any footsteps are racing down the hallway, ready to chase them down, but he hears nothing.

Tony begins to relax, but unlike himself, Gregory hasnt caught his breath yet. In fact, it sounds like Gregory cant breathe at all.

Panic grips at Tonys chest again when he whirls around, and sees Gregory leaning against the wall, knees wobbling and hand clutching at his heart, breaths short and fast.

Tony freezes, not knowing what's wrong. He hovers, taking a hesitant step towards Gregory. "...Greg? Are you--"

Tony doesnt get to finish. Gregory suddenly chokes on air, knees giving in as he slides down the tiled wall onto the disgusting school bathroom floor. He scrambles backwards, as if somethings attacking him. And so unlike what Tony's seen from Gregory, he pulls his knees up to his chest, hiding his face in them.

Tony stands there like an idiot, unsure of what to do. He fights himself to move, because Gregory cant breathe and hes obviously freaking out for some reason.

Hesitantly, Tony crouches down in front of Gregory, pausing for only a moment as he wracks his brain on what to do before settling a hand on Gregory's knee.

"Gregory!" He tries to get his attention. "Hey, Greg, are you okay?"

Tony's hand reels back when Gregory startles away from him like he burned him. He flinches so violently at Tony, that he almost feels hurt.

No. Tony shakes the idea away. Its not his fault. Dont get that into your head.

Tony thinks this is one of those attacks. Where something triggers it and you feel like you're gonna die. He cant remember the name right now, but he thinks that's what's happening.

Despite knowing what it is, Tony has absolutely zero clue how to help.

Tony makes a humming noise, bouncing anxiously as his hands hover, completely useless.

Gregory chokes again, making the most upsetting noises Tony's ever heard. Gregory flinches again, even though Tony didnt touch him.

Tony doesnt know what to do. He doesnt know how to help. You can't look for clues, here. You cant piece together a picture. Theres nothing about this he can latch onto to decipher, to figure out a way to help that wont upset Gregory further.

But Gregory is panicking, and he cant breathe, and even though Tony is scared and doesnt know what to do, he cant leave Gregory to just sit there and hyperventilate without at least trying.

So he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and Tony schooches closer to Gregory this time not touching him. "Gregory? Hey, Greg. It's me. Tony."

No response, but Tony doesnt give up. "Um. It's your friend. I'm not Mitch, or, uh, anybody like that. I don't want to hurt you. Can you look at me, please? Can you even hear me?"

Tony perks up when Gregory peeks through his knees, slightly raising his head. Tony can tell that Gregory cant really see him, even though hes looking at him, but Tony smiles anyway.

"Hey." He says to Gregory, trying to keep his voice soft. "Um. You're okay, Greg. Were just in the bathroom, so were not nearby any bullies, or adults. It's just us here, okay?" Then he whispers. "If this is even helping?"

When Gregory reacts again, it's his trembling calming a bit and his head raising slightly.

Tony is really good at recognizing change in behavior. It's what a good investigator does if he wants answers from somebody. Gotta know if they're lying, or if they perk up if they know something. So when Gregory's eyes dart towards him ever so slightly, he notices, and grins.

"Greg." He says, relieved when Gregory isnt about to hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness anymore. Hes not completely okay yet, but it's better than before. Tony reaches out, but after a moments consideration, retracts his hand, just settling on setting it in his lap. "Hey, are you seeing me now?"

Gregory's eyes widen ever so slightly. "T--" he tries, but his voice wavers so much he coughs a bit. Tony leans forward a bit, worried, but Gregory catches his breath, if not normal breathing, then hard and fast but still functional. "H-Hey."

Tony jumps at the fact that Gregory can respond to him now. He leans forward, brows furrowed and hands hovering. "Um. I need you to tell me how to help you, okay? Can you do that? I'm, uh, kinda lost here."

Gregory's breath stutters, and he squeezes his eyes shut, but he manages, "Distraction. Fuh-- Five senses."

"Five senses." Tony repeats, now determined. "Okay. Okay! Uh..." He trails off, glancing around the room. "Okay... first. Greg, whats five things you see?"

It takes some visible effort, but Gregory peels his eyes open, a bead of sweat near his hairline and brows pinched. "U-Um... You, and... the sinks."

Tony nods. "Okay. Okay keep going."

"The... the stalls." Gregory huffs out, his breathing no longer short and fast but gasping and deep. "Um... the tile, the window, an--and my knees."

Tony nods, sagging in relief at somehow helping Gregory calm down, even with his previous cluelessness, Gregory gave him a hint now, and that's all hes got. "Okay! Now four things you hear."

"...My breathing." He chuckles without humor, almost self-deprecating, but stops when it takes too much of his breath. "Um..." He takes a deep breath. "Your voice. The pipes in the wall. The birds outside."

"Three things you can feel." Tony tells him, and this time, sets a hand on his knee, gentle as can be.

Gregory doesn't flinch, thankfully, but he does take a moment to answer, loosening his tightly wound body and taking deep, several seconds long breaths. "...Kay. Your hand." He trails off, shutting his eyes. "...The gross floor, and the nasty wall."

Tony breaths out a tiny half laugh at that, and smiles knowing if Gregory's saying things like that, hes probably feeling at least a little better. "Two things you can smell."

Gregory wrinkles his nose, opening his eyes and giving him a look. "...Dont make me do that in here."

Tony laughs for real this time, and grins when Gregory is able to smile again. "Okay, sure. As long as you're okay now."

Gregory winces when he tries to move his shaky arms to sit himself up. Tony reaches forward, relieved that Gregory's no longer curled up in a ball, flinching away from Tony when he tries to help. He helps Gregory sit up, and Gregory sends him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Theres a few moments of silence, just Gregory letting himself relax even more and getting his breathing under control. Tony glances at him, questions eating away at him. When the silence continues to stretch Tony fidgets, and the question leaves his mouth without his permission when curiosity overwhelms his sense of thinking before he speaks. "What happened? Why did you react that way when Mitch..."

He catches himself at the last second, but it's not enough. Gregory flinches at the reminder, and he averts his eyes when he gets clammy again, looking uncomfortable.

Tony frowns, scolding himself. Stupid. He thinks. He should be able to push down his curiosity just for a second to help his friends, instead of only caring about getting answers. "Sorry... I, uh..."

"Its fine." Gregory says quickly, and he gets that rigid look on his face Tony recognizes as being deep in thought, mulling something over in his head thats unknown to Tony. He takes a breath. "I... when he was gonna slap me, it just... um... reminded me of stuff that's happened to me in the past, a little. That's all."

Tony's eyes widen ever so slightly when he understands, and he curses internally, feeling guilt curl in his stomach. He never should have asked. "Oh."

Gregory looks away, almost ashamed. "Yeah." He mutters. "Sorry that you had to, uh, see that."

Tony shakes his head immediately. "Its fine, Greg." He insists, leaning forward so Gregory will look at him. "I'll never judge you for stuff like that."

Gregory just stares at him, lips parted, but then he sighs. "Okay. Thanks, Tony."

Tony smiles, then when silence stretches across the bathroom, he decides to change the subject.

"So," Tony starts. "what were you gonna take out of your bag that scared Mitch so bad?" He asks.

Despite himself, a small smirk appears on Gregory's face. "Pepper spray." He says. "I've used it on him before. He cried like a baby."

Tony snorts at the thought of Mitch, the guy who claims to be the toughest kid in school, wallowing on the floor because Gregory sprayed something in his eyes. "So that's what you meant by things other than brute strength."

"Strength means nothing if they cant even touch you." Gregory grins, enough for Tony to see his permanently missing front tooth. "Especially if they have pepper spray in their eyes. It hurts pretty bad. See?"

Suddenly, a tube of pepper spray is thrusted towards Tonys eyes, and embarrassingly, he makes a dumb little yelp and shields his eyes with his hands.

Gregory cackles at the display, and Tony removes his forearms from his face, giving him a dirty look. "Why'd you put that in my face? What if it had sprayed me!?"

Gregory wipes a tear from his eye. "To scare you." He laughs. "And it worked."

Tony shakes his head, but despite himself, he also has a smile on his face. He didnt even see Gregory reach for it, let alone take it out of his backpack.

"I need to get home soon." Tony says after a moment of laughing together, thinking of his Mom. They've probably been here for a long time even after School let out.

"Can I come over?" Gregory asks quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. When Tony looks at him, Gregory averts his eyes.

"Of course." Tony says. He wouldn't want to be alone after that, and even if Gregory could, Tonys happy to keep him company.

ao3 link

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

looks at you with my sad wet pathetic eyesc

an i please have ur ao3 im very curious about the last ask u answered

i WOULD link it but 2/3 of the fics I've posted are explicit and the other one is a Bloodborne analysis essay