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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TEN

in which you and eddie find out just how much can happen on the roof of a parking garage. a scary criminal could show up, a phone call could interrupt important moments, a bit could go too far, and... marriage vows could be exchanged?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, one (1) use of y/n, minors dni

→ wc: 8k+

→ a/n: if this is bad don't hmu. i returned to my wordy girl roots. also shout out to @br0ck-eddie and @big-ope-vibes for beta reading this for me <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

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10:00 ─────ㅇ──────────── 24:00

HOUR TEN - 1:00 AM

Eddie is an erratic driver, which you should have known, but it doesn’t make you any less scared as he takes the empty curves of each street with intense speed. It doesn’t make you loosen your grip as you press into him as tightly as possible, practically molding your body to his.

You’re just grateful he was right – you didn’t see another soul for the entirety of the five minute drive. And if you did, you would have been mortified for them to see the way you clung to him.

His secondary location is a parking garage. If it were anyone else, if it were even so much as Eddie from ten hours before, sirens would be going off in your head and screaming for you to run as far as possible from this situation.

You don’t. Because it’s Eddie, and it’s Eddie being kind and flirty and civil. A new version of Eddie, and a new version of you.

You sit still and polite as he navigates the bike through a gap in the gate, the perfect size for a motorcycle to fit.

He keeps driving in circles, nearly making you dizzy, going up up up the parking garage levels until the ceiling breaks and you catch sight of the night sky again. The stars are more visible this high up, above the buzz of the city, closer to the atmosphere in altitude.

“Still alive back there?” he calls out as he cuts the engine, coming to a stop in one of the darker corners of the top level. You tell yourself it’s for practicality – if any sort of security happened upon this level, the two of you would remain hidden.

“Mhm,” you hum just loud enough for him to hear you through the helmet, arms aching from how tightly you continue to hold onto him.

If either of your hands were to slip, you’d graze against his partially exposed torso. Your fingers would make contact with his hips, would trace the expanse of curves and softness, possibly find their way to the trail of sparse hair down the center of his stomach.

It’s enough to make you fist his shirt into both hands, just to prevent that outcome.

“You sure?” he twists his body to look at you, and as he does, a hand comes up to rest on one of your arms.

It’s just a hand, and it’s just an arm. It’s just skin on skin. It’s nothing to call home about; Robin has grabbed your forearm plenty of times out of unbridled excitement, Steve has held onto it to guide you through crowds without losing you countless times, even Nancy has held your arm there before. None of them ever burned you before.

Maybe it’s not that Eddie’s touch scorns you, it’s not his palm kissed with flames. When his skin closes over yours, it only focuses your fire. That’s why it sears, that’s why it leaves your skin nothing but hot coals.

You burn for him.

“I’m positive,” your breath threatens to fog up the glass visor from the inside, “How do I get off this thing?”

He chuckles, and the hand holding your arm trails down, passing each of your knuckles with the press of a fingertip, drenched in intention. There is no reason for his touch to linger. There is no reason for him to draw roadmaps over your skin – it isn’t his to mark. And yet, the ashen lines appear all the same to you.

“Just swing off. I’ll stay sitting to balance the bike.”

You unravel your arms from around him, leaning your chest away from his back and immediately missing the proximity. You miss it as you clutch his shoulders, you miss it as you lift off the bike, you miss it as you stumble ever so slightly with your feet planted on concrete, and his hand shoots out to your hip in an effort to balance you.

It was an earnest effort, a casual touch, absolutely nothing but innocence in his fingertips as they wrap around your hip for a mere second before retracting. That doesn’t stop it from being gasoline on your fire.

He stands off of the bike unaware of the effect he’s continuing to have on you, pulling the keys from the ignition and popping the kickstand with such cruel casualty it begins to drive you insane.

“You need help with the helmet, or is it just part of your look now?” Eddie inquires as he walks around the back of the bike to stand in front of you.

The fucking smirk and the fucking dimples and the fucking eyes and the fucking-

“I need help,” you deadpan, playing into his game of cat and mouse. You’re willing to see how far you can push this until it breaks, is he? “You put it on me – you take it off.”

Your mind wanders to his comment, his threat, earlier. How if you didn’t get ready to come here, he’d undress you himself.

If him taking off this helmet is the closest you will ever get to that, so be it. It’ll give you something to think about tomorrow night in the comfort of your own bed.

Eddie shrugs happily, taking a step forward and carefully reaching out both hands to either side of the helmet. He’s slow in lifting it off, certainly just being careful and mindful of not hurting you, but it sends you hurtling even further to insanity. Inch by inch, the night’s cool air creeps up over your chin, over your cheeks, over the bridge of your nose. Your eyes flutter shut somewhere in the process.

When the helmet is fully removed, you keep your eyes shut. You wait for the shuffle of Eddie stepping back from you. You anticipate a comment on the state of your hair, your surely disastrous ‘helmet head’.

Neither comes. Instead, a warm breath hits your now cold cheek.

Your eyes open to find Eddie standing impossibly close to you. All downcast amber as his eyes trace over your face steadily, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips that remain slightly agape with each puffing breath. You don’t think he’s even recognized the way you had closed your eyes, nor the moment you’d opened them to catch him memorizing you up close.

“Eddie?” your voice cracks with the questioning, his name heavy on your tongue, “Is… Is everything okay?”

When his brown eyes meet yours, gilded honey and roasted chestnuts, they make your breath catch.

He nods with trepidation before breathing out, “Yeah. Everything’s…”

His words trail off, fading out into the buzz of the night surrounding you. The sounds of a city that never sleeps – distant sirens, a one-off car alarm, the random chirping of a bird, the beeping of a crosswalk signal. They all meld together into white noise, none of the singular components discernible. They’re nothing more than a background to the way Eddie is looking at you.

He raises a hand suddenly, still leaning in at a creeping pace, and tentatively reaches out to carefully tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. As his fingers curl into the skin behind your ear, lingering for far too long, the heel of his palm brushes your cheek.

You lean into it. Your face turns ever so slightly, eyes beginning to flutter again, desperately seeking out his touch. Enticing him to break, to cup your face fully, to give you more than you deserve in this moment.

Because he’s looking at you as if he’s about to kiss you. His eyes are flickering to your lips as you give in to futile want and heedless need, continuing to lean into his feathered touch, and you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. And you’re sure that you’ll let him.

His chest heaves just as painfully as yours. His pupils widen larger than yours, if possible. You watch an internal war rage behind his eyes, and you’re begging the part of him that wants you, wants this, to come out the victor. You want him to abandon all sensibility as you have.

Fuck civility. Fuck nuclear explosions. Fuck ocean waves. Fuck forest fires. Fuck friendship.

You’re past the point of return. All you want from him is his lips on your lips.

“Baby,” he whispers, a sickly sweet prayer falling from his lips, not a single ounce of malice soaked into the nickname. It’s not sweetheart. It’s not uttered in the same playful cadence as when he said it as he started up the bike. It’s not him teasing you. It’s a plea, a beg – he’s begging something of you that you’re too far gone to recognize.

But you hum in response, not knowing what he’s asking of you, opening your eyes as wide as you can manage in your moment of weakness, recognizing that his palm now fully cups your cheeks as his fingertips lazily press into your hairline. He’s closer now, leaning over you and covering you in his shadow, multiplying the darkness you reside in.

His nose bumps against yours. The oxygen you breathe in is replaced by his breath. He’s close, so terribly close, yet still so far. You’re tempted to finish the distance, but you need him to come to you. You need him to want this as much as you do, if not more.

You need to be the ocean this time. Because if you come to him, you’ll drown. You’ll descend to his darkest depths, and never find yourself above the surface again. Irreparable, collateral damage to yourself. All for wanting a man you’d claimed to hate ten hours prior.

Eddie’s freehand is grazing your hip, prepared to curl around you with force this time, to pull you into him and kiss you until the two of you are left bloodied and bruised, when your phone rings.

Both of you jump. In an instant, the closeness is lost – his hand leaves your cheek and hair, your eyes fully open, both of you stand awkwardly and flustered in the light shadows.

“I-” you don’t know what to say, hands shaking as you reach into your pocket and wretch out your phone.

JOHNNY BOY.

Jonathan is calling you, and you don’t know whether you want to commit a federal crime against him or your phone. Or maybe yourself.

You swear you can taste Eddie despite your lips never touching his. You can still feel the weight of his palm against you.

He has to take the phone from you, this time only because you’re holding it so tightly, glaring down at it so indignantly, he’s scared you might break it.

His thumb that once rested against your skin so gently is gliding across the screen, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey! Eddie!” Jonathan’s voice happily calls out, and it does nothing to chip away at your fruitless fury.

He was going to kiss you, and now he can’t even look you in your eyes.

“Are you both there right now? Or is she asleep?” Jonathan continues over the line.

You finally break your silence, “I’m here. We’re both here.”

“Where are you dudes?” A second voice from Jonathan’s side of the call asks, and you recognize that warm tone immediately. Argyle.

He won’t look at you. His gaze is sturdy on the phone, as if this wasn’t just a regular phone call but a video chat, as if there’s something more interesting being reflected in the screen compared to your currently desperate face.

You want to scream at him to hang up the phone. You want to beg him to throw the damn device over the wall behind the two of you and let it fall to the street, let it shatter and let the deal be damned just so you can feel his lips on yours and taste the sweetness of his tongue.

You just want to scream, honestly. Like a child. Stomp your foot, let out a fitful shriek, and pull the boy back into you.

You don’t. Partially because you’re grown, and partially because he won’t look at you.

There’s a doubt that creeps up as Eddie says something to the two boys on the line, a shadow of doubt that is darker than the night sky hanging above you two. Maybe Eddie didn’t want this. Maybe he’d just gotten lost in the moment, and now he felt ashamed.

The scream is left in your lungs, and the blooms on your vines quiver from the insecurity its residency radiates.

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly chuckles, pulling you back into the conversation, “So, uh, did you guys call for anything else besides playing babysitter?”

“No, that’s… all,” there’s hesitation in Jonathan’s voice, words unspoken that finally makes Eddie look up to catch your gaze.

Brown eyes meet yours – you burst into flames like it’s the first time.

The shadow of doubt eviscerates in the glow of the flames, the glow of your cheeks, as you watch him take you in with careful consideration. There’s no regret in those eyes, only remarkable care. A connection, a string tying you to him, the knots first set in place that night amongst friends.

He’s looking at you like the Eddie you thought to be dead and gone.

“You sure about that?” his tone is teasing, but his face is set in stone, eyes never leaving yours, “Sounds like you’ve got more to say, Byers.”

Argyle is the one who speaks up now, “It’s not that, it’s just… The photo you dudes sent is on your motorcycle. Are you even at your apartment right now?”

“Oh, absolutely. We actually only went outside to have a photoshoot on old Nightfury here. We’re currently safely tucked into bed, don’t worry, dudes.”

Eddie’s finally cracking a grin at you, and through it you’re transported to the past. Before you is a man of possibility, someone not yet an enemy. There’s a blank page set out before the two of you, and he’s wielding the pen like a weapon to be seen.

Nightfury? You mouth at him.

He blushes in response.

Oh, you’re definitely bringing that up after this phone call. Fuck talking about the almost kiss.

“Why do you sound so sarcastic?” Argyle questions, “Are you lying to us?”

“Argy- Yes, he’s lying. Christ, where is she? Put her on the phone instead,” Jonathan sounds entertainingly frustrated at the moment, and you take a step forward, palm reaching out for your cell.

Eddie doesn’t hand it over, head tilted at you, his youth breaking through the shadows that sharpen his jaw, “No can do, boss. Already tossed her body into the canals.”

“You what-” Jonathan’s voice is shrill, and Eddie bites back his laughter as he remembers that Steve is the only one in on that inside joke amongst the three of you.

“He’s lying,” you finally call out, taking another step closer, “I’m fine. He’s… it’s a joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay. But are you guys actually at the apartment, or not?”

“We’re not,” your honesty has Eddie playfully scowling.

I hope you kiss me when this is over. I hope you berate me for not playing along, and I hope you press me against the cold concrete behind us, and I hope you kiss me until I can’t breathe.

The version of yourself from ten hours ago is practically wailing on the floor, kicking and screaming in defeat. You don’t even care. You can admit it – you want Eddie Munson to kiss you. You don’t have to say it out loud, you don’t have to voice that want quite yet. It’s enough for your beating heart to silently admit it and accept the truth.

“Then where are you two? Jesus Christ.”

Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but you’re shaking your head with warning, knowing he’ll only lie and make things worse, “Some parking garage. Don’t worry about it.”

“Some parking gar- are you two fucking stupid? It’s one in the morning, go home,” Jonathan’s using a brotherly voice you’ve only had the pleasure of hearing on rare occasions – usually when you’ve joined him, Steve, and Robin out at the bars, and the latter two have drank well beyond their limits.

“We know what time it is,” Eddie scoffs. Now that he’s set his stare on you, he’s unrelenting. He keeps you in his line of vision as if you’re a buoy in his ocean, as if he’s capable of getting lost in his own waves.

Hopefully he is. If you can’t be an ocean to him, you hope he has to suffer in his own depths.

“We’re being safe,” you assure the two boys over the line. If you took one more step, you would brush up against Eddie. Shoulder to shoulder, cotton sleeve against leather sleeve. You don’t, but the thought still thrills you.

“Safe?” Jonathan is now scoffing, making Eddie twist his face in annoyance, which makes you want to laugh. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine. “Do you two even know our city’s crime levels? Eddie, I’ve seen you in fights, you cannot-”

“First of all, you’ve seen me in drunken fights,” Eddie snaps in interruption, finally looking down at the phone he holds, “I can throw a fucking punch when I haven’t drank my body weight in whiskey. Second of all, we’re fine. I’m sure if I can’t take whatever big, scary criminal that comes our way, little miss independent here can. She’s scarier than we give her credit for.”

Silence. You almost don’t notice the way Jonathan and Argyle have gone quiet as you’re still hung up on the nickname of little miss independent.

Eddie’s the one who steps closer this time. He glances around the empty rooftop of the parking garage, and he takes a microscopic step closer to you. It’s more of a shuffle, really, but it’s enough for your shoulders to finally brush.

“Shit, man,” Argyle is sighing over the line, as you stare at the ground and Eddie stares at you, “Nance was right.”

Eddie freezes. There’s a choking sound from the phone, and it sounds an awful lot like Jonathan.

Nance was… right?

“What was Nance right about?” you ask, looking up to Eddie quickly. You expect him to be just as confused as you are but he looks petrified.

If all his blood hadn’t drained from his expression, he’d surely be blushing. But he’s stark pale beneath the moonlight, eyes glued to the screen as if Argyle could see his death stare over the line. He looks like a man caught red-handed. You have to look over his palms, the one holding your phone as well as the one quickly being shoved awkwardly into his pocket, just to double check that the skin there isn’t painted maroon.

“What was Nancy right about?” you repeat yourself, but the question is less directed at the phone now. You don’t care about Argyle or Jonathan’s answer – you care about Eddie’s, “What did she sa-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan interrupts, “We’ve gotta go, but there’s no need for you guys to send a photo this hour. We, uh, we’re the only ones awake probably, so… consider this your official hourly check in. Please, stay safe.”

“Talk later, my dudes!” Argyle yells in the background.

The line goes dead. The black screen returns to flash both yours and Eddie’s face in the reflection. One looks overexposed, left out in the light for far too long, and the other looks shadowed, as if having been left behind in the dark.

You’ve been left in the dark. Whatever just happened between the three boys, you’re clueless to it.

You have to put your hand out for Eddie to give back the phone, still looking far more nervous than he was before the phone call. All the cocky attitude, all the hints of teasing, all the almost kisses are gone.

Now’s a perfect opportunity to grill him on what Nancy said. He obviously knows, and if you were smart, you’d dig your heels in and force an explanation from it. You deserve answers; after an exchange of apologies and a quiet acceptance from both of you at giving this a real chance tonight, you deserve to not be left as the odd one out still.

“Why is your bike named Nightfury?”

Except it’s not the perfect opportunity. If you ask him now, he’ll deny knowing anything about it. You’ve learned a lot about Eddie in the last ten hours, and the major discovery has been the way in which he uncurls pieces of himself for your eyes only. He is slow and shy in being observed, and he won’t offer honesty when put on the spot like that.

If you change the topic, if you let it slide, he might tell you on his own time. You’re praying he tells you on his own time.

He looks taken back by your question, watching as you tuck your phone away into the pocket of his sweats that rest on your hips, “What?”

“You mentioned your bike’s name is Nightfury,” you shrug nonchalantly, “Is it some superhero reference I’m not getting? It’s fitting, but I just… I don’t know. I’m intrigued, I guess.”

“Superhero reference? Uh, no, not quite,” he scrunches up his face, and you recall the weight of his palm on your cheek. The almost taste of his lips almost on yours, “It’s- Jesus Christ, now I wish it was a superhero reference. The truth is so lame.”

You break a smile and bump your shoulder against his, trying to shake the racing of your heart, “Can’t be more lame than all your action figures back home.”

“Didn’t you say they were actually cool?”

“I actually called them creepy, if I’m recalling correctly.”

The two of you move as a unit, gliding over to the concrete ledge that over looks the city, simultaneously leaning your full body weight onto your forearms as Eddie digs out a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket’s pocket.

He catches you eyeballing them, and immediately shakes his head, tapping the top of the carton against the palm of his hand (the same palm that was once cradling your face so gently), “I’m not sharing my cigs. Fuck off.”

There’s no malice, and that’s probably the only reason that, once he’s pulled his own cigarette out of the pack and discarded it onto the concrete in front of the two of you, you immediately shoot a hand out to take one. You await for him to snap at you, to smack your hand away, to repeat himself.

He stays silent as you pull one for yourself. Offers his lighter, even, once the end of his glows cherry red.

You wish he would just lean over and occupy your space again, cup his hand around the end of the cigarette that is dangerously close to your cheek, let the flint fueled flame flicker between you as your gasoline fueled embers sparked to life again. You wish, you wish, and you wish. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t even meet your eyes as you pass the lighter back and inhale the smoke.

You hold it until his fingertips brush the palm of your hand, before you exhale sharply.

“It’s from How to Train Your Dragon.”

You have your cigarette halfway to your mouth, leaving it hovering as you side-eye him, “What?”

“Nightfury. It’s from the movie, How to Train Your Dragon. The, uh, main dragon, Toothless, is a Nightfury.”

Oh, Jesus Christ. You already wanted to kiss him badly enough, already found your defenses drooping limply when it came to him, and then he had to go and say shit like that.

“You named your motorcycle,” you start slowly, tilting your head in his direction, “After an animated movie? Cute, although I don’t think scary metalheads like yourself were the intended audience.”

Your words make the corners of his mouth twitch. Smoke curls out from the center of his lips, puckered in consideration as he turns his gaze to the buildings towering around you. “I’m a massive nerd who holds a weekly D&D club and collects mythical creature figurines. I am exactly their intended audience.”

“You have a D&D club?”

You’ve learned a lot about Eddie tonight. And yet, every new discovery you uncover continues to surprise you.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he laughs quietly into the night air, “You saw the inside of my apartment, did you really not see the whole Dungeons and Dragons bit coming?”

You shrug, still watching him watch the city, “I… I don’t know. Contrary to belief, I really don’t know much about you. A shame, really.”

“Are you trying to say you’d like to know more about me, sweetheart?”

Yes. “God, no. I think I’ve had my fill of Eddie Munson Jeopardy for the night, thank you very much.”

You want to know the name of his band, you want him to ramble on about the game you know nothing about, you want him to elaborate more on his love for How to Train Your Dragon. You’re brimming with wants, overflowing your cup with curiosity. He shouldn’t intrigue you this way. It’s dangerous – you don’t know where you’ll put all this information when the night ends and you two part ways, both five hundred dollars richer and returning to the hatred that had been established.

Was it even hatred anymore? Or had it morphed into a softened version of itself, something more akin to indifference?

“Hey, Eddie,” you watch your cigarette burn away at itself, think of it like your insides as the flecks of ash fly off into the wind of their own accord, “What happens after tonight?”

You’ve caught him off guard; he’s not expecting the question, and it occurs to you he’s just as unsure as you are.

He doesn’t know where to go from here either.

“I dunno,” he murmurs. His arm shifts, and the hand that has his cigarette tucked between the fingers is now resting beside your own, “What do you want to happen after tonight?”

I want everything to change. I want to laugh with you again. I want to see you when we’re out with our friends and for you to smile instead of scowl.

You just shrug, and it makes your shoulders brush again, his leather crinkling against the movement, “Nothing has to change. We can… We can pretend it was all a bad dream, if you want. Although I’m definitely referring to your motorcycle as Toothless from now on.”

“No one will believe you,” he scoffs, ignoring your comment on nothing changing. But the curl of his lips had faded instantaneously, a subtle change that would have been missed if you weren’t watching him so closely. But you were. You noticed. You’d probably never be able to not notice. Even when he returns to scowling, even when he’s returned to the bottom of his ocean and you’re left with legs too weak to continue kicking in an effort to keep you afloat, “But… yeah. Yeah, it can all just be a…. Dream.”

Dream. Not a bad dream, just a dream.

“It’s weird that we don’t have to take a photo, right?” you’re quick to change the subject, to avoid deep diving into his implications.

It should give him whiplash, but he seems completely unaffected as he waves a hand around the open air in front of you two, “Not really. But we could still take one, if you want, though. Just for us.”

Just for us. A stolen moment and a blanket of security that this night existed, that it wasn’t just a shared fever dream and that it was all real. The Eddie you first met still exists six feet under, you two managed civility, and it was real.

“We could,” you agree, a bit too eager for your liking, “I mean, it’s a pretty view. We shouldn’t waste it.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s mentioned he comes here often, that this is a space he finds himself running to, just like the bar. He bites his tongue just as he had when you’d stolen a cigarette for yourself. A cigarette now wasted, because you hadn’t taken another drag in far too many minutes.

The hand that rested beside yours so casually inches closer, pinkies beginning to overlap. “Exactly.”

Your hand shakes the entire time as you reach into your pocket and produce the phone, as you hover the camera to perfectly capture your two hands and the cars that are so small in comparison on the streets below. Overlapping pinkies become hooked, twisted together, and you’re not sure if it was you or Eddie that took that final step.

You leave the flash off as two cigarettes glow orange like a sunset, like the ending to a beginning you’ve been hurtling towards at full force with Eddie this entire night.

It’s a nice photo.

Eddie lowly whistles as he glances over at the screen and the barely blurry photo displayed, “That’s a good one. We’ve gotta put it in the scrapbook, for sure.”

“The scrapbook?” you giggle, still memorizing every detail of the moment frozen in time, “What are we going to call it? ‘The Night Y/N and Eddie Didn’t Hate Each Other’?”

“The name can be a work in progress. After all, the night is still young. Maybe murder is still on the table and it can get shown on our Dateline special.”

You snort, and he grins. Your pinkies are still interlocked.

“Imagine the name of that episode. Just Keith Morrison narrating our greatest hits,” you muse as the breeze picks up around the two of you. It’s nice, cool and relieving from the flames that have been building and creeping up your wrist.

Both cigarettes are wasting away now; neither of you are willing to let go of the contact long enough to properly smoke them.

It’s as if he’s noticing it, too, as he curls his hold even tighter, a subtle squeeze you return without thinking. It’s just a small touch, a miniscule connection between the two of you, but it feels bigger than anything before. It’s larger than the almost kiss, it’s larger than his apology, it’s larger than everything. That’s what it is – it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it’s everything to you. A rebuilding and rekindling of all the paths not taken.

Eddie pulls you from everything suddenly, not by pulling away his pinky, but by putting on his best Keith Morrison impression, “Two enemies, one apartment, an unfortunate series of city canals. Hatred is a fine line to dance, but just how far can one young woman go when a twenty-two year old man takes things too far. Tonight, on Dateline…”

Your free hand shoves at his shoulders, and his pinky clings stiffly to yours to keep his balance, “Shut up! Why am I the one murdering you? I’m a helpless woman! If anyone’s getting murked, it’s me.”

“Oh please, sweetheart, that’s exactly why you’d be the one to get away with it! No one suspects the sweet college girl who lives in the dorm down the hall to murder the big, bad wolf,” he cackles, returning to lean into your space tauntingly as he sets the scene, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t throw my ass into those canals if given the chance.”

I wouldn’t. “I’m about ten seconds away from it.”

“Yeah?”

No. “Yeah.”

“Well, that’s hot.”

You remember his whimpers from the bathroom suddenly, and bloom into color. Instead of answering his banter, you bite your lip and look harshly down at your conjoined hands. Pinky in pinky, cigarettes dying down together. The burning end has neared where your fingers clench on the filter, and you tell yourself that that’s the source of the heat coursing through your body. It has to be, because it certainly can be the effect of Eddie. Eddie, touching himself. Eddie, moaning. Eddie, definitely not stubbing his toe.

Flames and oceans, you remind yourself, flames and oceans do not mix. Can not mix.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks with certainty, the cadence in his voice fading into something of serious discussion. The playfulness is still there, just more subdued, “And can it… not cause some big fight between us this time?”

Well, that can’t be good. “Go for it.”

“I told you why I hate you, so… why do you hate me?”

You understand his request immediately; it’s a loaded question, no doubt.

Why do I hate you?

For the life of you, you can’t pinpoint an exact moment. And unlike Eddie, you’re willing to tell him the truth, you want to reward him with honesty. The time of avoidant answers has passed for you, and you want to bare your soul to him in a peculiar sense.

“I- Okay, I don’t know exactly why,” you begin, considering finally disconnecting your pinky from his before deciding against it, “So I’ll talk you through it, but no interruptions, okay?”

“Okay. I’d pinky swear, but, y’know,” he raises your hands into the air ever-so-slightly, acknowledging the position he’s put you two in for the first time in the entire conversation.

You both laugh at the sentiment before you continue on.

“I’d like to preface this with the fact I know you won’t tell me the truth about this, even the others can’t tell me the truth about it, so don’t think of this as me seeking out answers. I’m the one offering an explanation, not you. So…just…” you take a sharp breath in and catch his eyebrows shooting up into his bangs from the corner of your eyes. You can’t look at him head on, a lingering fear of showing this type of vulnerability with him being impossible to shake, “That first night we met. You were nice, right? You were nice, we got along, and then… Then I went to the bathroom. And I came back, and suddenly, you… you weren’t nice. You weren’t quite mean, not yet, but you certainly weren’t acting the same anymore. And I don’t know why you changed, I don’t care,” An absolute lie. You cared. You cared so assiduously, far more than you should, to know why, “But after that, you were just… cold, I guess? And it all built up. I thought it was a game at first, I gave up trying to be friends and decided whatever was happening between us might be normal. You’d give short answers, so I gave short answers. You’d insult me or make fun of me, so I’d insult you or make fun of you. It was just a game. Until you got mean.”

A siren flashes by on the street below, and you can’t even make out the sound of his breathing. Now feels like a good time to pull away your pinky, to take a final drag of your cigarette, to leave behind his burning touch. The moment you try, he completely traps your finger between his pinky and ring finger.

He’s not letting you go without a fight.

You’re tired of fighting him.

“I actually think it took me a while to really hate you back, y’know? I think I was still holding onto this... this childish hope that you didn’t mean to be cruel. Or that you were just jealous of me intruding on your friend group – you told me yourself that you guys go all the way back to high school. I was this invader, and I excused your cruelty for a really long time because of it, because I told myself I understood. But then… six months ago, I stopped understanding. I had to admit defeat and hate you because you didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Steve’s party.”

He says it so quietly, you almost miss it. He sounds remorseful, he sounds sad, he sounds regretful, he sounds mournful.

“Steve’s party,” you confirm just as quietly. Your pinky is slack against his as his grip finally loosens, “That night, everything you said… It finally felt personal. From the minute I got there, you were just… awful. You knew exactly where to hit me when I was down. And it took me shattering Steve’s poor glass to realize you really do hate me. You hate me, so I hate you.”

It’s out there, the truth – your only reason for hating Eddie Munson was because he hated you. It was based on a worthless principle. Born out of necessity, you had forced yourself to hate the man who currently has your pinky wrapped around his, who had pledged his protection over you with the same mouth that had claimed he’d never miss you if you evaporated from his life.

The hate would always be there. It wouldn’t wash away with his waves, and it wouldn’t turn to ash from your flames. You couldn’t get your hopes up that one night could fix it all.

“I was a dick that night. I know I’ve already said sorry but… I’m sorry,” he finds his reply in the darkness, in a hushed tone. Quiet and ridden with shame.

His pinky falls even more slack with yours as if he’s silently offering to let you go, as if the memory of what he’d done is enough to remind him you aren’t his to keep. But you’ve already given up the fight – your pinky stays with his.

“You were a dick,” you agree, “But I know you’re sorry now, it’s just a matter of… accepting it. Letting it go. I’ve not exactly been innocent in this. Remember Chrissy Cunningham?”

He laughs dryly, clearly recalling the blonde you’d caught him out on a date with.

“Jesus, fuck. Yeah, I remember Chris. I never did get a second date.”

“Because of me,” you try to tease, doing as he would and leaning your bicep into his.

He nods, “Because of you.”

You’d been extra spiteful that night. It was before Steve’s party, even. The moment you’d seen them in that booth, Chrissy giggling far too much at each of what had to have been Eddie’s terrible jokes, watching her perfectly manicured hand settle on his shoulder, you had been out for blood.

You’d approached them, and made Chrissy believe Eddie was already your husband. You’d even switched one of the rings on your right hand to your left ring finger. An entire debacle had been made in that diner, and Eddie looked ready to murder you when Chrissy had left and murmured something about ‘calling him later’ as you continued to credit him for being an absolute cheater.

She never did call. You must have really sold the entire lie with your crocodile tears.

“I was a bitch that night,” you supply as you let your cigarette finally drop from between your fingers, hitting the concrete as it begins to sizzle out, “So… I’m sorry. And we’re even.”

Eddie steals his cigarette into his other hand and takes a final drag before he properly puts it out, “Looking back now, it’s kind of fucking funny. Seriously. Did you know I knew her in high school?”

You don’t expect his lighthearted response, but you take it in full stride with a squeeze from your pinky, “What?”

“Yup. She never gave me the time of day back then. And after our date, I found out she’d been already trying to get back with her on-again, off-again boyfriend from back then,” he shrugs, turning to glance at you, “Guess I wasn’t the cheater.”

“Jesus, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for her. Apologize for the fact you never even signed a prenup with me, or invited me to our wedding, wife.”

That makes you break. You both laugh so hard you have no choice but to relinquish your hold on each other, bringing your hands up to laugh freely into your palms.

“I am so sorry, my dear husband,” you taunt, “Maybe I’ll remember to invite you to the renewal of our vows in five years time.”

“Five years?” he crinkles his nose, shaking his head harshly, nearly tearing his curls from his makeshift bun, “Fuck that. I never even got to say my vows the first time. You owe me a wedding, princess.”

“You never bought me a ring.”

“My bad,” you barely squeak out before you succumb to even more laughter. Eddie’s dimples shine as he joins you, looking to the ground as his shoulders shake.

He sighs deeply once the two of you compose yourselves, turning and leaning his back onto the ledge, staring out at the empty parking lot, “Where should we have our honeymoon? I’m thinking the diner would consider hosting us, even after your fiasco.”

“The diner?” you feign offense and mimic his position, “Fuck that,” you parrot his words right back, “You’re taking me to Paris, pretty boy.”

It’s a deliberate choice; the nickname doesn’t slip carelessly this time. It’s said with a conviction that makes Eddie blush, that makes him look at you with dark eyes.

“Pretty boy and sweetheart,” he mumbles, gaze flickering down your face, “We make quite the odd married couple. I don’t know how they’d feel about us in Europe.”

“They’d certainly stop and stare at first glance,” you play along, still giggling quietly, “But I think then they’d see just how in love we obviously are and just….” you pause and let your eyes flutter shut for dramatic effect, not catching sight of the way he suddenly melts for you, “Swoon.”

You don’t see it, but he’s looking at you like he’s about to kiss you again.

“Here,” he suddenly says, fiddling with his fingers when you snap your eyes back open, “Allow me, Edward Munson, to vow myself to you…. Uh….” he pauses as he realizes he doesn’t know your full name, and so you jokingly lean in and whisper it to him as if you aren’t the only two up here. He repeats it back as if he’d always known it, and you’re both back to giggling, “In sickness or in health. In hatred or in murder. In…. bets and from this day forward.”

He’s holding one of his rings, one decorated with a chunky skull, and motions for your hand. You offer it and allow him to slide the ring on with as much ease as he had slid the helmet onto you.

It fits a bit big, but you both look down at it as if it’s the world’s greatest gift.

“Wow,” you breathe out, your hand still cupped by his, “It’s certainly no diamond.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Allow me to just go to the twenty-four hour diamond shop and get something more to your taste, my beloved,” he goads, finally dropping your hand.

The metal is warm on the inner ring from his skin, searing into you just as his touch does.

“You sure know how to commit to a bit, Munson,” you murmur beneath your breath, lifting your hand to inspect the ring more closely. You’ve never paid much mind to his rings before, only ever knowing that they were there and they were a staple to his look.

“That I do, wife,” he grins widely, boyish in his suddenly shy stance, “You’re already wearing my sweats and my shirt, why not add the ring? Complete the look?”

“Complete the look,” you repeat and shake your head, shrugging, “Okay, fine. But just for tonight.”

Just for tonight, because after tonight, nothing changes. Your heart pangs at the thought but you don’t let your smile or joking demeanor fade with him.

“Of course, of course,” he waves the hand that is now one ring lighter, “Just for tonight. Come morning light, everything goes back to normal. No one has to know you spent the night married to me, sweetheart.”

“I mean, I’ve already moved in for the night,” you remark, looking up into his eyes, “We have moved quite quickly, haven’t we?”

“We have. All that’s left is consummating the marriage, or whatever,” he shimmies a shoulder into you, turning to face the motorcycle, “Speaking of home, we should get going before any scary criminals show up and you have to beat them up for me.”

Your cheeks are burning red, your hand is carrying his ring and flames, “Oh, I’m sorry. We are so not brushing right past the fact you know the word consummate.”

It’s easy. Being with him is easy, on fire or not. It is easier to enjoy him and joke with him, fall into civility with him, than to force yourself to hate him. You don’t care if tonight changes nothing for him; it changes everything for you.

“I’m brighter than I look, doll.”

It is easy to burn for him. For tonight, and for the rest of your life, quite possibly.

He picks the helmet up off of the seat and holds it out for you as you follow him, immediately making you grumble in protest as you take it without a fight.

You decide to take one last chance before the helmet separates the two of you again. One last way to tell him you don’t hate him, you don’t know if you ever hated him, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever hate him.

“You know, I think we skipped a step,” you flip the helmet, not meeting his eyes this time, mustering all your bravery, “Usually, you have to kiss your bride, then consummate the marriage.”

Quiet. He’s too quiet.

You’ve stunned him into silence, and you take it as a sign that you’ve gone too far. You’ve brought the almost kiss back up in the most indirect of ways, and you regret it immediately.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately try to rectify, “I- that was dumb. Bad joke. I… I’ll leave the bits to you.”

You don’t give him a chance to reply as you shove on the helmet, much less gracefully than he had put it on you, and wait for him to get on the bike.

No words are exchanged. You can’t see if he’s blushing through the tint of the visor. You convince yourself that he’s only tense as you climb onto the bike behind him because he’s uncomfortable now, because you’ve breached a limit you’d never even noticed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss you. Of course you shouldn’t have mentioned it, let alone joked about it. You’re an idiot. Even in civility, you’re an idiot.

He drives even faster to the apartment this time, which is dangerous considering you don’t grip him nearly as tightly.

A game of fate you should have realized is dangerous to play. It is dangerous to burn for him, because he does not burn for you. This fire is one-sided and self-destructive, and although it is easy, you should have known better. The hating him is safer than the wanting him. The fury is safer than the yearning. The glasses shattered were safer than the moments shattered.

You arrive back at the apartment. He parks the bike. You return the helmet to him.

You walk up the stairs ahead of him. You don’t speak to him. You twist the ring he gave you.

You keep your head down at the door. He rustles with his keys.

The burning is too easy. You should have known better.

But then, he says your name, keys still hanging from the lock of the door to apartment 2C.

You look up at him, and wonder if he sees your embers, clear as day. You wonder if he’s about to tell you to collect your things and inform the others that the bet is off, that the two of you will scrounge together the money you owe them and forget the night ever happened.

“Tonight changes nothing, right?” he questions once he has your full attention. You can only nod, ignoring the sharp pain of reality, “Nothing that happens tonight has to matter, right?”

You swallow hard. “Right.”

He’s the one nodding now, seemingly lost in thought.

This is it. This is the part it all ends.

“Great,” he finally concedes, voice raspy. You’re about to parrot back the sentiment when his hands are suddenly back in your hair, and his breath is back against your cheek, "Then fuck it."

This time, almosts don’t cut it. He kisses you, and he tastes like salt water as he meets your ash.

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#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #i am nervous for this one jesus fuck #shaking as i post it but the show must go on!#gonna go offline for several hours now #or just simply read bluey's newest story hehe #no one look at me

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pillowspace · 2 years

Note

AYO drop fic recommendations

Sun & Moon Fic Recs

Press the read more for recommended FNAF:SB fics with a major focus on Sun and/or Moon!

Current number of fics: 43

Last updated October 24th, 2023

To be updated (with announcement and by my own personal choice, please don't request fics to be added to the list. Recommending me fics to check out is allowed however!)

Word count and chapter count are only accurate so long as I update the list accordingly. Check the original for accuracy

If you are the author of a fic, you can ask your work be removed from the list. Everyone should be comfortable

No sm//ut

Table of Contents - 1. Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics, 2. Other Roles or Species AU Fics, 2a. Other Roles, 2b. Other Species, 2c. Other Species (Mer), 3. Updates

Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics

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Solar Lunacy by BamSara | @bamsara

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

M | Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

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Saturday Insomnia by BamSara | @bamsara

No Archive Warnings Apply, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

The animatronic tuts at you. “No, silly, not for us. For you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

Sun places one hand on his chest. “The Sun and the Moon, and…” He points to the shirt’s design, and then to you. “-and the Earth!”

It takes you a moment to process, but when it dawns on you, you fight back a snort unless you want to make an ungodly noise in the middle of the quiet thrift store. “Oh god. That’s corny. Like, REALLY corny. That should be a crime.”

Sun just hums and nods as you revel in his ‘genius’, arms reaching out to take the bundle of clothing you’ve been holding and carrying it for you. “There’s nothing wrong with the clichés. You’re just jealous because we’re as clever as ever.”

------

A comfort fic showing domestic life with the Daycare Attendants. Set somewhere in the future timeline for Solar Lunacy, but can be read stand-alone.

M | Words: 9,061 | Chapters: 1/1

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copper cogs rusted through by Borashore | @paper-lilypie

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader

A year after the fire, Fazbear Entertainment graciously announces its plans to reopen the grand Pizzaplex installment bigger and better than ever, causing a stir amongst everyone nation-wide, including your small, mundane town, set in the outskirts of anything modern, luxurious or relevant. As a mundane civilian of said town with other things to worry about, you barely wink an eye. Rent is a constant nuisance to meet, one of your jobs might get terminated, raising three siblings zaps both time and energy, and coming to terms with the fact you never grew up to be somebody in life becomes an impossibility every other day.

Nonsense like Fazbear Entertainment has never been something to think about.

That is… well, until you mistakenly bring one– sorry, two– of its titular characters home and add more problems to your list.

Can’t catch a break, can you?

M | Words: 37,458 | Chapters: 3/11

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Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands by aug325, CephalonGhost | @dana-chan-the-control-brain @twinanimatronics

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader

Takes place after the three-star princess quest ending where Sun and Moon are the only intact animatronic left.

Fazbear Entertainment decides to capitalize on that and try to make money off the daycare again by making the dual animatronic into two. Clearly no problems arise from this because robots can’t suffer mental or emotional trauma, right?

Sequel to: Lofi Beats to Capture Children to.

M | Words: 226,447 | Chapters: 26/?

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Lofi Beats to Capture Children to by aug325 | @dana-chan-the-control-brain

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/DJ Music Man, Moon & Sun, DJ Music Man & Moon, DJ Music Man/Moon, DJ Music Man & Music Man, Vanessa A. | Ness & Daycare Attendant, Vanessa A. | Ness & Moon, Vanessa A. | Ness & Sun, Vanny & Moon

The Daycare Animatronic was different from the Glamrocks. They didn't match the 80's austenitic, and their drastic shift in personalities.

Sun seems to be a nervous trainwreck who sobs to pieces if left alone for five minutes.

Moon seems intent on punishing anyone they deem a "rulebreaker"

And with Moon's inherent violent tendencies, it almost seems they were made with the intention of capturing intruders of the Pizzzaplex first, and being a Daycare Attendant second.

Who made these things? What kind of messed-up person was the guy who made them...

Why make the Daycare Attendant and the NightTime Security for the building the same animatronic?

It just doesn't make sense.

Moon was the head of security of the entire Pizzaplex at night. It was only natural they had to meet the 'bouncer' of the Dance Floor eventually.

(Or: A small stupid fic about Moon and DJMM becoming frens and goes into details of Sun/Moon's origin. The Glamrocks also appear and be frens. Eventual child death to come)

This is a Direct Prequel to "Twin Animatronics with too much time on their hands" So I recommend giving it a read <3

T | Words: 151,036 | Chapters: 16/?

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Visions (Or Lack Thereof) by DeeplyJuniper, Glitched_and_Unnamed | @sleepyjuniper @azure-aura321

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun, Daycare Attendant & Gregory, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory

This place is not like he remembered it. Neither is Sun; his brother seems panicked and shaky- and relieved to hear him.

To Moon, this all seems like some elaborate prank. One minute he was doing his job, watching over the children, and listening to Sun from their shared consciousness. The next, he opens his eyes to find the place he loved and cherished has fallen into disrepair. Abandoned. Rundown. His brother says it's been months.

He doesn't remember what happened in-between.

G | Words: 100,459 | Chapters: 14/?

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Permission Slip by thedemonsurfer | @thedemonscrawler

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant & Gregory, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory, Gregory & Sun, Gregory & Moon, Moon & Sun

Gregory gets dumped off in the Daycare as a 'lost child'. When he shows back up after closing, convinced that the security guard wants to hurt him, Sun decides to do whatever is needed to help him escape the Pizzaplex. This turns out to be a much bigger ordeal than anticipated.

Freddy is on lockdown. Chica is eating garbage. Roxy is talking to herself. Monty is tearing apart anything that moves.

There is a rabbit in the Pizzaplex.

Something is wrong tonight.

T | Words: 165,760 | Chapters: 13/?

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I see you, Sundrop! by ShiraCheshire | @shirajellyfish

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon & Sun & Original Character(s), Sun & Original Character(s), Moon & Original Character(s), Daycare Attendant & Original Character(s)

With nowhere else to go, Riley returns to the place they spent their childhood- Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. When they discover that something is very wrong with the animatronics, they're forced to take shelter in the Superstar Daycare.

Considering that their favorite hobby is analyzing and understand how animatronics work and think, Riley is thrilled at the chance to get to know the Daycare Attendant. Too bad everything had to go wrong first for them to get here. At least they're safe in the daycare, right? No health and safety hazards here in the Superstar Daycare absolutely none no siree.

AKA mostly a whole lot of playing with and getting to know Sun- As long as the lights stay on, anyway.

(Not a fan of longfics? Looking for something shorter but still satisfying? Chapter 11 and chapter 32 both work as early stopping points if you wish)

M | Words: 462,502 | Chapters: 103/?

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404: Personal Space Not Found by CrazedAuthor | @crazedauthor

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader

Being an anxious mess one bright light from a breakdown wasn't easy, nor did it grant you many friends. Still, you were getting by as a hermit only leaving your apartment to go to class. That all changes when you start working at the Pizzaplex as a staff member. Working in close proximity to such advanced robotics? It was every future engineer's dream. Working for such high pay in this economy? It was enough to make a poor college student cry. Despite the change in routine, you're content to go through with it, thinking you'll blend into the background and disappear, never to be noticed by human or animatronic alike...

You thought wrong. The Daycare Attendants and the trouble that surrounds them will RUIN YOU.

T | Words: 81,109 | Chapters: 7/?

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(it was, in reality, not fine.) by bones_of_a_rabbit | @bones-of-a-rabbit

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader

You're the new tech/repairman at the Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, unfortunately. Your first task? To make the Daycare Attendant into two separate animatronics. It's an amazing opportunity, really, and there is nothing you love more than getting a chance to really work with such tech! The only bad part is that you don't know how to tell anyone that you just might be in over your head. (You are extremely in over your head.)

(Just a silly feel-good fic, AU where there is no Security Breach, no William, no murders, etc. Sun and Moon fall in love with you, a well-meaning but honestly naïve and easily-overwhelmed little dummy)

(BTW THE TITLE IS MEANT TO BE A RUNNING JOKE FROM THE FIC there isn't gonna b some big angsty plot twist. most likely)

G | Words: 99,238 | Chapters: 10/?

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Ventura Highway by MadameMiz | @madamemiz

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun

You are an idiot who, in the eyes of the law, just stole a multi-million dollar piece of AI animatronic technology from a highly controversial company.

Now a fugitive, you weigh your options, and with few choices available you decide going on the run is your best bet.

Time for a road trip.

T | Words: 28,356 | Chapters: 6/?

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The Night Shift by Certified_Handler | @certified-handler

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader

You expected there would be plenty of changes when Fazbear Entertainment purchased the childcare facility where you work. What you didn't expect was everything that came after...

M | Words: 214,610 | Chapters: 44/44

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(and when you speak) angels sing from above by ranchdiip

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Glamrock Animatronics & Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Sun

“Fine,” you spit. You’re still shaking, but the fear is mixed with anger now, a bitterness that follows all of life’s unfair balances. “Fine. Whatever. I won’t tell anyone that Fazbear is letting a criminal run free and paying for his treatments to boot. But what the fuck do you want me to do about this thing?”

“Work on it,” Margaret says. She doesn’t acknowledge your barb, probably for the better. It still burns you. “Figure out how you can decommission the Naptime Attendant without damaging the Daycare Attendant. It’s the Naptime’s that turned violent, and we can’t return the animatronic to the public until it’s gone.”

“You want me to get rid of the half that saved a little girl,” you scowl.

“I want you to get rid of the half that put a man in the hospital.”

“I’m not a software engineer, Mag.”

“You are, now. If anything happens to you, tell me. You know I’ve got your back here.”

You’re starting to wonder if that’s true.

—

Last week, the recently debuted Daycare Attendant put a man in the hospital. Corporate has decided it's your problem, now.

M | Words: 30,251 | Chapters: 6/?

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First They're Sour, Then They're Sweet! by lunargalaxies | @smallergalaxies

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun & Reader, Moon/Reader

You’re one of a handful of night time security guards at the pizzaplex, and a certain animatronic has taken a…liking? to you. At least you think so, it's hard to tell when he almost never talks to you and just follows you around on your shifts. If it wasn't so creepy, you think it could actually be a little cute.

T | Words: 16,030 | Chapters: 10/?

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Our Orbit is Elliptical by Sycopomp | @sycopomp | in association with @madame-mongoose

No Archive Warnings Apply Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Sun & Reader

The Daycare Attendant is very protective of his role in the Superstar Daycare; he was made for this job, after all, and he finds it insulting that management seems to think he needs help. They insist on saddling him with human assistants, over and over, no matter how many quit. Not that he does it intentionally, of course... but if they can't handle the stress, then perhaps they aren't fit to be working with children. Hmph.

You are the new Daycare Assistant at the Superstar Daycare! Despite some reservations, you're determined to do your best and prove-- mostly to yourself-- that you deserve to be here. You're inspired by Sun and the ease with which he gets along with the children, and you hope to impress him with your go-getter attitude and unflappable confidence! (Even if both of those things are about as flimsy as construction paper...)

aka: Sun is passive-aggressive to his new assistant, whom is so determined to do a good job that they're too oblivious to notice.

T | Words: 15,337 | Chapters: 1/?

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Holding the World by StarvingMe | @anangelcalledinquisitor

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader

You were new, dressed in your little uniform, jacket, slacks, collared shirt peeking out, plastic little nametag with your name scrawled in large, friendly letters.

(Pregnant Reader AU with Automatons)

M | Words: 99,699 | Chapters: 27/27

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rises the moon by paris_23 | @paris-23

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Reader

You hear a door creaking, but it isn’t enough to pull you from your spiraling panic, hardly even grasps your attention. It isn’t until you hear a bell jingle that you force your head up and your eyes open. And it’s… Moon. He’s standing in front of you, watching as you quiver and stare up at him, tears staining trails down your face.

He sits down next to you, criss-cross, not touching you but still close. His voice is raspy, just like always, but softer, quieter, as he says, “Poor thing, out here on their own. Should know not to wander in the dark alone, little lamb.”

---

Moon helps you through a panic attack

G | Words: 2,451 | Chapters: 1/1

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Stare at the Abyss; It Might Look Back by characcoon | @characcoon

No Archive Warnings Apply, DJ Music Man & Sun, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, DJ Music Man & Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory, Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader

You blink at the offended new light source aimed at the far wall of the pit, flickering constantly and making your eyes hurt. You smack it in your palm until the batteries move back in place and the light stops flickering. You point it up and down the well again, considering your options of going forward or going home, putting all the cards at the table so you can make a decision.

Turning around, wanting to pace for a bit since it helps you think better, you're greeted with a whole thing standing right behind you.

The color quickly drains off your face and you get cold, holding your breath for dear life as the light from your torch illuminates a face. Round like a dinner plate, singed and cracked, with a Cheshire smile stretched from one side to the other, black eyes that seem to suck the light out of the torch, framed by a shredded, poorly patched up blue hood. You don't feel like moving the light or your eyes away from the animatronic, so you can’t see the state of the rest of its body yet.

The thing isn’t moving. Neither are you.

T | Words: 27,900 | Chapters: 11/?

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Don’t spare your gaze by acrylicArtsy | @inazumaneko

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun

With a huff, the daycare attendant sat up fluidly, and began heading to the sink to wash off what glue he could.

He was halfway there when the smell had hit him.

At first, he was confused. His systems halting, trying to place what this new thing was. He was getting multiple results at once, and it was almost dizzying how quick the sensory notifications came:

Barbecue, fireplace, fireworks, chimney,

Smoke.

What was happening? Why did he sense smoke? What could be causing this?

Fire. below. MOVE.

—————-

Or: Sundrop realizes the building is on fire, escapes, and tries to figure out his purpose in the big scary world.

(Active updates)

T | Words: 45,671 | Chapters: 14/?

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To Err Is Human by TheNerdyBirdy14 | @birdy-boogaloo

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon & Sun, Moon/Sun/Original Character(s), Moon/Sun/Original Male Character(s), Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Original Character(s), Daycare Attendant/Reader, Glamrock Animatronics & Original Character(s), Glamrock Chica & Original Character(s), Montgomery Gator & Original Character(s), Glamrock Freddy & Original Male Character(s), Roxanne Wolf & Original Character(s)

Jack Harley just wanted a nice, simple job that paid well. He was sick of working two other jobs to make ends meet. So when Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex began looking for someone to manage the Daycare area, he leapt on it. It was just a little mechanical work and playing with kids, right? Shouldn't be too hard.

But there's something going on under the surface: animatronics with way more intelligence than they should have; secrets that come out when the lights go down; and to top it off, a virus with a vengeance infecting it all.

Is there a way to fix it all? Or will he be another victim broken by the company's dark past?

//OC-centric, slow burn romance, giving the animatronics the happy ending they deserve, plot fixes, short chapters\\

M | Words: 87,171 | Chapters: 16/?

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Celestial Syzygy by Pterolem | @echoingkarma

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Vanessa & Reader

You're the human staff of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, and one of the only two you ever seem to see, there to be a comforting and familiar face for the guests... and just to do what you're told. At your side are several very tall animatronics who mostly want to help you settle in.

Mostly.

Good luck, reader, and please enjoy your time working for Fazbear Entertainment. Don't forget all those waivers you signed when you started working for us! And forget what you hear or see in the night; its not relevant to your job :)

M | Words: 70,541 | Chapters: 18/18

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you move to dayshift but aren't paid any more, go figure by tuzesdays | @tuzesdays

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

You never, never wanted to be on dayshift. All those children running around, being loud and messy and eugh... but that's what corporate scheduled you for, and they're the ones that write your checks, so. You weren't expecting to get along with the daycare attendant, but that doesn't mean you want to stay on dayshift just to hang out with them.

Too bad you can't back out now.

T | Words: 121,367 | Chapters: 21/?

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So(u)l by Strawbubbysugar | @strawbubbysugar

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon & Sun, sun and moon/reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

It will take every single sign the universe can throw at you to realize that you are capable of being loved. Specifically, by an animatronic daycare attendant.

Check out @strawbubbysugar on Tumblr for art related to the AU, and to participate in polls to decide what happens next!

NR | Words: 134,362 | Chapters: 70/70

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What's It Called When Light Hits a Prism? by TooManyPsuedonyms

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun

The PizzaPlex has been running--and the Management needs a new operator for one of their salvaged animatronics.

You are just trying to live independently, so of course, you'll take the job.

You have no idea what you're in for. Granted, you never really know what you're in for, but this can't be much different than working with regular human people... right?

M | Words: 161,198 | Chapters: 39/?

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Other Roles or Species AU Fics

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--- Other Roles (machines in total alternate circumstances. This may include former daycare attendants if the primary role has changed. Former daycare attendants who have more so only lost their role do not go here, they still go in Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics)

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Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Eclipse & Reader

M | Words: 174,134 | Works: 15 | Complete: No

- Due to being a whole series rec, here's the first work details:

Share the Cuffs by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

Detective!Sun & Detective!Moon x Vigilante!Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 4,084 | Chapters: 1/1

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Bethroned by Strawbubbysugar | @strawbubbysugar

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader

The Human Kingdom of Porphyal has long been at war with The Kingdom of Atomata, a strange land filled with sentient automatons. The cause for the start of the bloodshed has been lost to time, but it will soon be drawing to a close with the arranged marriage of the Heir of Porphyal and the Heir of Atomata, set to be wed when they reach of age, uniting the Kingdoms in peace at last.

Though it is uncertain if the temporary truce will last long enough to see this come to pass.

NR | Words: 58,168 | Chapters: 34/?

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Ghost in the Machine by Qwille | @venomous-qwille

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Eclipse/Reader

You are not strong in the Sight. To you, the supernatural has become the background noise of a mundane and lonely life. You have no interest in becoming involved with ghosts.

But they have every interest in you.

When your eccentric great uncle offers you a job fixing the ‘jewel’ of his collection—the original Fazco Daycare Attendant—you expect a challenge, sure. This was undoubtedly going to be the biggest project of your life. You expect pain, mistakes, and late nights aplenty, and you expect an excruciating learning curve.

You do not expect the other Daycare Attendants.

This is a story about love and memories, about secret things and ghosts.

How can you know what to live for when the world you were built for is gone?

M | Words: 69,063 | Chapters: 7/?

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--- Other Species

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Apology Flowers & Blooming Hours by daunsun | @daunsun

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

Google Maps knew some of the most niche places, really. Oh, you need a very specific kind of food? Here’s a location five minutes from you! You’re looking for a pot of a particular kind of flower and have never explored the area around your apartment complex outside of work? Great! There’s a flower shop two blocks down! Of course, that exact question is what led you to the looming brick shop in front of you. It was a rather quaint place, sure, but it was on one of the busiest streets in town, meaning you only received stares for standing in front of the flower shop and getting in the way. According to your phone, the place was called Daylight-Goodnight Blooms. You figured it was called that because of its night time delivery service, which apparently isn’t a common thing for stores, especially flower shops.

It's not everyday you see a grinning and smiling talking sunflower. Neither is it everyday a grumbling moonflower shows up to your doorstep with... a bouquet? Things were already stressful enough, so surely you were losing your mind, yeah?

(An AU I made that apparently people liked, so I'm writing a tiny fic on it I guess. I have a bunch of ideas. >:D )

T | Words: 9,868 | Chapters: 2/?

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Bug Love by TheOHNOCorral | @theohnocorral

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader

Sun and Moon are what remains of a vast pantheon of gods. Only able to save themselves by making a pact with each other and binding their bodies together and the moon and sun themselves. They watch over what is left of the vast forests they once protected. They know that one day they will waste away, unable even to hold on to each other.

Now here you are. Things haven't gone exactly the way you'd hoped but you've got another field position and it's looking up from there. Now if you can manage to keep catching bumble bees, not eat anything poisonous, and make the mortgage, you'll be fine.

Curious that you always catch more bees than anyone else on the study. Curious that you never get ticks, or chiggers, your bag never rips open, you've never been stung, never fallen in the woodland brush. You think you're just lucky for a while. Then you step on that hornet nest. Well. You'd always had a thing for local cryptid lore.

G | Words: 43,561 | Chapters: 17/?

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Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

You will face the monsters.

Cryptid!Sun/Moon x Cryptid Hunter!Y/N (SFW)

M | Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

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Celestial Sundown by clutterspace | @pillowspace

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Eventual Moon/Reader, Eclipse & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was.

The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

────

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

T | Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

- hey! Celestial Sundown is my fic! My followers recommended that I add it to the list

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--- Other Species (Mer)

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For in Safe Horizons by Anonymous | @horizonandstar

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader

It was supposed to be a normal expedition like any other, but something goes wrong and the ship crash-lands. Now you’re stranded on an ocean planet with no way of going home. How long can you survive until you can call for help and leave this planet?

For the first time in your life, you’re alone.

As alone as one can be when two alien creatures follow you around, anyways.

T | Words: 28,630 | Chapters: 8/?

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The Sea Jesters are Real Science by MatosaurusRex, sixty_nine13 | @frizzybearprteam

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun

You stare into the glass. At first you see nothing, just a greenish-blue landscape, peaceful and ordinary. There is nothing special about it... Or so you think. As the seconds pass, two figures become more and more visible, slowly growing from two distant dots to two large figures, easily two metres tall. The two creatures stare at you, and you raise your hand, slapping it against the cold glass that holds the creatures trapped. These two beings, which until now had been considered to be legends, raise their hands to clasp yours as well. The most wonderful living beings in the world stand before you, separated by thick glass, suffering every day at the hands of greedy people.

How long will they resist this?

((This fic was inspired by Tumblr shenanigans and merMAY! Thank you all for inspiring us to create this <3))

T | Words: 121,792 | Chapters: 27/?

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Celestial Omens (that really like Fishsticks) by BamSara | @bamsara

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

(A 3-part Sun & Moon x Reader fic for Mermay.) (Title subject to change)

T | Words: 23,822 | Chapters: 2/3

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Song for a Siren by SolarRush | @solarrush

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader

As a kid, ever since you attended your first show at the Faz Aquarium and Research Center you were determined to become like the mer handlers you admired. Now fresh out of college, you've made it to your first day at the ARC!

It's not quite as....glamorous...as you expected.

An abandoned exhibit and its inhabitants stir up questions about Faz Corp's true intentions, and you find yourself caught in the middle. Can one person change a bleak future, or will you be sleeping with the fishes?

T | Words: 23,162 | Chapters: 4/4

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I Watched You Become a Stranger by IcedMetalTea | @icedmetaltea

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun & Reader

You work at one of the few aquariums cleared to house merfolk as a handler for twin mers who live in a sort of petting pool targeted at kids, as they've proven to be harmless to humans through the years. You spend your days taking care of them and supervising their interactions with the public.

You arrive at the exhibit for your early morning shift and, as you prepare for the day's visitors, the automatic door to the room malfunctions and slams shut while you're inside. You find yourself trapped with no sources of food, and the two creatures who have a very big appetite.

T | Words: 6,748 | Chapters: 1/1

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Scars and Scales by intistone | @intistone

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, just platonic stuff ye, Family Fluff - Relationship, Sun & Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader

You were doing fine as a diver, despite the nosy neighbor/best friend and dog that was certainly going to be the end of you. All was well, in a weird way

Then the storm came.

And the tides rose.

And you met a monster

Two of them actually, and they were anything but.

You have no idea what to do, no idea how to help, and clearly no idea now broken they are.

But you can't keep them safe forever.

Your past is catching up to you faster than you think.

NR | Words: 163,547 | Chapters: 14/?

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Fish Out of Water by Imagine_Darksiders | @imagine-darksiders

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

'What you're looking at is...

Well, quite frankly, it's impossible.

There's a face hanging above you, Lovecraftian in proportion – taller and wider than you are long, with features about as adjacent to a human's as one could possibly get.

For the first few seconds, you remain frozen to your spot, unblinking, half expecting the grinning visage to fade away as sobriety takes you back into its safe, sense-making embrace.

A pair of milky, white eyes peer down at you, hanging in the expanse of yellowing skin, like twin pools of alabaster paint. You'd hesitate to even call them eyes, but then, the damn things b l i n k.'

M | Words: 26,589 | Chapters: 4/?

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Within a Sun and Moonlit Cove by shadow_oblivion

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

You witness two mer hatch, and spend the entire summer with them. But at the end of that time, you get the mer to the sea before your family moves away. 20 years later, you are in desperate need of a break from your busy life. Taking a vacation to where you lived when younger, you fondly remember the two tiny mer, and hope they are doing all right wherever they are.

When you wander the shore near your hotel, during the day or at night, you start to find little trinkets here and there, along with an occasional dead sea creature. You might dismiss the odd sight as coincidence, until the items start to line the shore in the direction of a secluded cove in the distance.

T | Words: 40,981 | Chapters: 12/?

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Pisces Caelestis by S_V | @sortvaniliekrans

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

NR | Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

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In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

Mermaid!Eclipse x Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

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Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

Mermaid!Sun & Mermaid!Moon x Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

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Crush Depth by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

You stare out the forward viewport—the window. The sub’s only window. Blood splashes against the thick glass. It is human blood. It fills an ocean on Moon FZ-87. The atmosphere is dark and barren, speckled with the ghostly light of stars that have been gone for decades.

This is the last view you have of anything above the blood ocean surface. Futility sinks roots into your ribs.

DCA x Reader (SFW)

M | Words: 25,182 | Chapters: 10/10

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Updates

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Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 9/30/22

Celestial Syzygy by Pterolem was added to the list, categorized under Animatronics Daycare Attendant Fics! - 10/13/22

Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species! - 10/24/22

you move to dayshift but aren't paid any more, go figure by tuzesdays was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 11/2/22

Pisces Caelestis by S_V was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 5/23/23

So(u)l by Strawbubbysugar was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 7/14/23

Celestial Sundown by clutterspace was added to the list, categorized under Other Species! - 7/14/23

Bethroned by Strawbubbysugar was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 10/22/23

Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

What's It Called When Light Hits a Prism? by TooManyPsuedonyms was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 10/22/23

Crush Depth by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

Ghost in the Machine by Qwille was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 10/24/23

#five nights at freddy's security breach #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #fnafsb #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf daycare attendant #the daycare attendant #fnaf naptime attendant #the naptime attendant #i haven't finished reading all of these fics but i have read a good amount to confidently put them on the list #please let me know if an untagged author has a tumblr blog! i must have missed it #also let me know if i got any details wrong and didn't notice #fnaf security breach

4K notes · View notes

seance · 16 days

Text

THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [5/?] ↳ SEASON 2, EPISODE 5 / the return

#themusketeersedit #the musketeers #perioddrama #perioddramasource #the musketeers bbc #athos #aramis #d'artagnan #porthos #tmrewatch*#edits #at this point you must have noticed all my faves eps involve #angst + hurt/comfort + the gang being supportive of each other #and that's why they basically all align with every canon divergence fic i've ever read #anyway love athos being an absolute menace #the ugly side of his trauma humanizes him so much more to my eyes honestly #especially next to d'artagnan youthful idealism #and you know i can't resist aramis being worried about his friends hip popping out and everything

151 notes · View notes

dankmaths · 23 days

Note

I'm like 90% sure if I don't get more of your ghost au I may just implode so like 🥺👉👈

not necessarily my AU but i ended up drawing smth based on a scene from @novethegreat's fic, "In Love With A Ghost". ooohhhh you wanna read it so bad ooooohh

+more google doc delusions ive had in my head for a long time and havent been possessed to draw under the cut please work god please

i like to think once yosuke gets over the whole undead roommate thing he starts to feel bad for leaving yu at home all day. (like a pet dog.....) so at some point he invites chie and yukiko over. maybe it’s a study session. but at first yukiko can’t make it so it’s just chie. yosuke tells yu to stay put in the room since chie is scared of ghosts (just like yosuke she’ll never admit it though lol). chie says that she and yukiko have been working on a new recipe and offers to cook which yosuke shoots down Very quickly, offering to cook himself, since a "friend" of his has been teaching him-- he very conveniently leaves out the whole undead roommate thing. but when he’s preparing the food he accidentally cuts his finger. yu forgets what he’s told and rushes through the walls into the kitchen scaring chie on accident.

yosuke: OW shit

yu: (phasing through the wall) yosuke! are you ok?

chie: yosuke! are youuuuuuUUUUAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

yukiko, the occult lover, is unable to see/hear ghosts… but when she hears abt "OHHH HANAMURAS APT IS HAUNTED ITS SO SCARY ITS AWFUL!!! i mean the ghost didnt kill me or anything he was actually pretty polite but its AWFUL!!!!!!" from chie, she gets sooo excited and begs yosuke to invite her over (for the ghost obviously not for yosuke. which is a bit of a blow to his ego LOL). and she comes in with a ouija board so she can talk to yu

yukiko: so. where is it?

yosuke: his name is yu. damn, not even a hello.

yukiko: well, where is he?

yosuke: …right over there.

yu tries to play along bc he thinks its fun, to yosukes exasperation. however he has trouble staying solid for very long so it takes foreverrrrr. but basically i think yu and yukiko writing each other notes to communicate like point blank pen pals would be cute… also when the others are around who can hear yu, playing telephone with what he says to yukiko and fucking it up (on accident OR on purpose) would be rly funny

#this has been in my inbox for a WHILE sorry anon. im sure you must be a ghost by now too. lol #askbox #souyo #p4 #i wish i had more time to draw or i could do it faster but alas. this is the path i chose for myself.#(started working on another doujin)#(abt to lurk for another 100 years #side note not too long ago i read a cute fic on pixiv where yosuke was the ghost and yu was the tenant #and yu could see+hear yosuke just fine but ignored him for a solid month bc he was scared the spooky ghost would attack him lol #but everytime i try to tell my friends abt smth from pixiv its like #“YEAH ITS IN JAPANESE YEAH YOU HAVE TO PUT IT THRU GOOGLE TRANSLATE AND/OR LOOK UP WORDS IN THE DICTIONARY EVERY TWO SECONDS”#“BUT ITS MAKING ME INSANE ITS CUTE ITS REALLY CUTE ITS SOOO CUTE REALLY GOOD I PROMISE”#and i know it sounds really really unhinged so i try to keep it contained lol

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anonymous-dentist · 1 month

Text

Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#guapoduo #spiderbit #i feel like i must say that any and all romantic feelings form after they're both 18+#i tried making that clear but yk. this is Not the reading comprehension site.

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