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merakiui · 1 year

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Hi merakiui! For the lunar love hotel if it's alright can I get a cherry wine and red velvet cupcakes with floyd leech with an AFAB reader, please?

yandere!floyd leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, cunnilingus, brief mention of pregnancy, serial killer floyd au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

Your back slams into the floor with a harsh, spine-cracking thump, and pinpricks of pain explode within your skull. The kitchen knife is centimeters from your face, driven into the wood flooring so deeply that it splinters from the sheer force, and you surmise he’s put it there intentionally. It’s a very easy trap. Unfortunately, you’re too petrified to fall for it.

You stare up at a face bathed in shadows, nerves alight with fight or flight, and watch in muted horror as he tugs the surgical mask from his face to show you his needle-toothed grin. Though his hair is dyed Stygian and he’s wearing colored contacts—twin pools of the prettiest blue—this is undeniably Floyd Leech. You’d recognize that creeping, crawling lilt in his voice any day because it’s stuck with you ever since you first met him, carved into your being like a terrible tattoo or a melody you can never forget. And it’s remained in the corners of your brain ever since news of his escape shook the city, a constant reminder that one day his voice wouldn’t be so far away.

Today is that day.

“S’no fun if you let me catch ya right away,” he says, peering around your dimly lit bedroom. “Your place’s reeeal nice. Much nicer than the cell. Shame ya never invited me.” He’s pouting now, scuffing his sneaker against the floor as if he’s a child whining about a lack of dessert. “Shrimpy’s so mean, excludin’ me from your life like that…”

You’re at a loss, opening and closing your mouth like a beached fish, eyes blown impossibly wide. He doesn’t look particularly livid, but then there’s manic glee shimmering in his azure hues and that’s far more terrifying than any anger he could harbor.

I have to call for help. I have to run away. I can’t let him kill me. I have to—

“Hey, hey. Whatcha thinkin’ about?” He bends down to inspect your eyes as they travel towards the handle of the knife. “You wanna kill me, Shrimpy? Put me back in that cold, cramped cell?” He tilts his head, amusement waltzing across fearsome features. “Have fun tryin’. I ain’t goin’ back now that I got ya all to myself.”

“F-Floyd… How did you—” You swallow thickly, flinching away when he drops to his knees to trap you between sturdy arms. You scoot away, propped up on your elbows, and the gears in your brain are turning in an attempt to work out a hasty escape. “W-Why are you here?”

Keep him talking. Pretend it’s an interview. Silence leads to stagnation, and Floyd loves talking when he’s in the mood.

“I told ya, didn’t I? Soon as I’m gettin’ out I’m comin’ to find ya.” His fingers curl around the handle of the knife and he yanks it up from the floor. “Ya never answered my question, y’know.”

“Your proposal?” You stare at him in disbelief. All of this…just for a reply to a yes-no question. He can’t be serious.

“Ah, that’s the one! Shrimpy remembers!”

He is. Very serious, apparently.

“What happens if I agree?” you ask slowly, taking great caution to structure the sentence just right, lest you offend him and find that blade stabbed through your skull. “We can’t get married the normal way.”

“Normal’s borin’ anyway.” With that same dopey smile, he narrows his eyes, reels his arm back, and throws the knife directly at the wall beyond. You don’t see it burrow into the wall, but you hear it. It's explosive in the stifling quiet of the bedroom. Floyd gazes at you, smiling sincerely. “See? No more knife. I’m gonna be good for Shrimpy if Shrimpy’s gonna be good for me.”

“Right… R-Right. Okay. I’ll be good. Can I… Can I stand up now? The floor isn’t very comfortable.”

“Okaaay!” He pulls away, rises to his full hulking height, and offers his hand. Gingerly, you place yours in his and he lifts you up. “S’nice to touch ya without the cuffs.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Floyd.” Like always, you speak directly, firmly, gently. He stares at you, a strange shadow passing over his face. “What happens if I agree to marry you?”

“You’ll become Mrs. Shrimpy. Duh.”

“Okay… And you won’t hurt anyone? If I become Mrs. Shrimpy, you have to promise.” Floyd’s gaze strays. You lift your hand to his face to guide him back to you. His hand closes around yours, and there is an uncanny softness to his face that reflects something tame. He’s almost…innocent like this, leaning into your palm like an oversized puppy desperate for affection and attention. And to think this is the same man who could be so mercilessly cutthroat. “You have to promise me, Floyd. No hurting others. No matter how difficult it gets—no matter how angry or upset you become—you can’t hurt people.”

He frowns as if it’s an unreasonable plea.

“Promise me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Floyd.”

“I promise,” he mumbles and then exaggerates an obnoxious sigh, his shoulders drooping. “Shrimpy’s really wringin’ me dry here. Then if I’m promisin’ to be a goody-goody, you gotta promise to marry me, ‘kay?”

“I promise.” You force a wobbly smile as your stomach churns.

This is sickening. There has to be some way out of this. Maybe it’s possible to distract him long enough to make a run for it…

Floyd lights up at your acquiescence and wraps his arms around you in an embrace that would have felt bone-crushing if you hadn’t already prepared yourself for the brunt of his aggressive affection. You consider the situation while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, humming his happiness.

Surely he wouldn’t come here without a plan. What happens if I do manage to get out or call for help? Or is he planning to take me somewhere else? Is he even here to kill me? But then he was so focused on the marriage proposal and—

Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Floyd, still hugging you, drags you over to your bed and shoves you onto the mattress. It depresses under his weight when he climbs onto it next, hastily kicking his sneakers off and shucking his hooded sweatshirt in the process to reveal well-toned musculature. The once joyous glaze in his eyes mellows into something predatory, and it occurs to you that he isn’t here for a response to a question. Upon recognizing this, your heart plummets into your stomach.

There were two things Floyd pestered you with when you’d visit him for interviews. How you managed to blot the second demand from your brain is beyond you, but it becomes abundantly clear when he seizes your ankles just as you attempt to crawl out from under his looming shadow.

“W-Wait… What are you—”

“Don’t go anywhere, Shrimpy!” He squeezes just hard enough to warn you, and even though it doesn’t hurt the implication that it eventually will should you defy him has you wincing. “Aw. Don’t be scared. I’m not scary, yeah?”

You stare helplessly at him. He’s smiling, face flushed with wicked excitement. “Floyd, I don’t want—stop! Let go of me!” A rough hand traces its way up to the waistband of your shorts, and his fingers curl around it. Your eyes widen with newfound terror. “No, no, no! Let go of me! Stop! Stop, stop, stop—”

An unknown darkness passes over your face for a fraction of a second, and then his hand is covering it entirely, squeezing ruthlessly. His nails dig into the plush of your cheeks, and through the crack between his fingers you spy his hateful expression. It’s murder and death all at once, so frightful you wonder if this is the same face he showed all of his past victims.

“You promised to be good,” he says, voice devoid of the warmth it once held. “I like Shrimpy’s voice, so don’t make me take it.” Those last few words are spoken in low, threatening octaves.

“Please don’t do this,” you whisper, voice cracking. “P-Please, Floyd…”

“Why not? You’re my wife now, and when you’re engaged you gotta show your love nice and proper.”

Your eyes find the knife lodged in the wall. It’s impossible to get to it without Floyd’s quick interception, and even if it was in your grasp you’re not sure you’d have the courage to hurt him. As much as you despise him, he’s still human—a foolish excuse, for he’s a serial killer on death row, and therefore it shouldn’t matter whether or not you hurt him. After all, he’s hurt dozens. And he’s hurting you.

But despite that…

His hand withdraws from your face, and the intimidating aura that surrounded him earlier vanishes at once. “I got lotsa practice at lunch. It was lame to do it on fruit, but I pretended it was Shrimpy and it became really fun!” He giggles at the recollection, shaking his head as if it’s a silly topic. And it would have been if it weren’t for the circumstances. “I’ve wanted ya so bad. Always. So fuckin’ bad it hurt.”

He tugs your shorts down to your ankles, leaning down to press a kiss just above your navel. You catch his eyes as he does this and a sly smirk curls onto his face.

“And now I get to have ya.”

“Please don’t…”

But he may as well be deaf, for your pleas never reach his ears. Floyd kisses his way to your hips, tugging your panties down as he goes. You stiffen at the way the cool air settles on your bare skin, and he laughs breathlessly, exhilaration reflected in wide, eager eyes. As a last-ditch effort you attempt to shut your legs, but he grabs them and throws them over his shoulders to lock himself in place between your thighs. You squirm restlessly beneath him while he studies your pussy, his warm breath ghosting over it.

“Aah? Shrimpy’s so cute, shavin’ just for me.” Mirth-filled eyes flick to yours. “You don’t hafta, y’know. I don’t mind if Shrimpy’s hairy. No matter what, Shrimpy’s always gonna be pretty to me.”

“Don’t look!” Shakily, you slide your hand down to shield it from his view.

And I didn’t shave it for you! you want to add, but the words just won’t come.

His fingers knead your thighs encouragingly, and he leans in to nose your knuckles. “Aww. But it’s really so pretty.” He winks at you, playful. “A pretty pussy for my pretty Shrimpy.”

A potent concoction of embarrassment and shame flares red-hot under your skin. There’s a sick part of you that preens under his filthy praise. You strangle fistfuls of the sheets in your other hand to ground yourself. He’s not attractive. He’s a criminal. But even with those reminders you find yourself clinging to his words out of some carnal instinct.

“Stop… Stop talking.”

He giggles and leans in to lick a wet stripe along your fingers, enticing you to separate them. You shake your head at him, mumble another objection, but he refuses to have any of that. Floyd pinches your thigh and you grimace at the sharp, stinging pain. It’s enough of a temporary distraction because his tongue slides past the part in your fingers to prod at your clitorial hood. The warm muscle flicks, almost like a snake catching a scent, and presses up against the hood to lap at the nub that resides there. The breath sticks in your throat and you retract your hand, your heart skipping one too many beats within your ribs.

He braces himself against you, hands splayed across your inner thighs to keep you perfectly spread. Floyd angles his head in a way that allows him to affix his lips to your slit, and at first it feels like a wet, sloppy smooch when the flat part of his tongue laves across it. But then his tongue is sliding away, slowly circling your clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, and you throw your head back against the bed, the breath punched out of you. He pats your thigh in what you think might be a consoling gesture, and you respond with a shiver. A subdued groan just barely manages to slip past puffy, bitten lips, and it occurs to you that you’ve been chewing them this entire time. Iron thickens in your mouth, and you swallow both blood and moans as Floyd’s enthusiastic ministrations draw more reedy sounds from the depths of your throat.

Tears gather upon your lash line, and for a moment all you see is the ceiling as salty liquid obscures it. But then you blink them away and hazard a glimpse at Floyd, whose head is still between your legs. Salacious squelches of tongue on flesh join your soft, needy gasps, mingling into a duet so lewd it fills your brain with thoughts of pure obscenity. And at the very center of it all, Floyd is all you can think about.

It’s your fingers carding through his hair that momentarily breaks Floyd from his rhythm. He doesn’t stop; rather, he hums his delight against you after realizing you’re touching him and the vibrations fill you much like the thick tongue forcing its way inside tight, gummy walls. You’re tugging on obsidian locks, battling chagrin and pleasure all at once, and he seems to enjoy the rough treatment, for he groans into you, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs.

At some point, amidst every enjoyable sensation that crashes into you, his thumb finds your clit to massage harsh circles against it while two slender fingers curl up inside you alongside his tongue. You’re trembling now, digging your fingers into his scalp to brace yourself, as you rock against his face and sob as if mourning. It feels so, so good—much better than when you’d do it with your own fingers and toys—and all you can manage is incoherency as his fingers work you open and his tongue slurps up your slick. Every little touch, hum, and stroke has something building in your gut, a ferocious, coiling sort of heat that’s pulled unbearably taut.

And with one particularly rough grind of his thumb it snaps, and you howl your relief as you gush all over his handsome face. Floyd licks you through it, laughing against your pussy, before drawing back to inhale deeply. His fingers slide out of you with ease, but you lament the emptiness. Bathed in the amber glow from the bedside lamp, Floyd’s features shimmer with wetness.

He licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of you in his mouth, wipes your juices from his brow, and sighs dreamily. “Shrimpy’s much better than a grapefruit!”

You have a retort for that, surely, but it never leaves your swollen lips. Floyd lowers your legs onto the bed and you remain sprawled, unable to do much other than watch. He’s quick to slip his sweatpants and boxers off while you recover from the high of your orgasm, your chest heaving. And before you can even think to stop him, the soft, fleshy head of his hard, leaking cock presses against your slick folds, and you, delirious with mounting lust, peer up at him through glazed hues. You don’t have the energy to protest because in the back of your mind you know he won’t listen and you’re too boneless to put up much of a fight.

Floyd beams like the brightest sun, serrated teeth on full display in that boyishly toothy grin he does so well. “Hope you’re ready for triplets cuz that’s what I’m givin’ ya!”

You’re not ready—not in the slightest—but you’ll have to be.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd #serial killer floyd #tw: pregnancy mention #tw: noncon #n/sfw #lunar love hotel 2023

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just-antithings · 2 months

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antis: behold, a serial killer!

#mod erin #image #mod shenanigans #serial killer mention

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llumetesdellums · 2 years

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Miss, That was national TV...

She’s 23, she’s 23.

Mei being a streamer and a professional motorcyclist at 23 and still finding time to party and hang around the shop, it's a flex.

Bestie you have a race tomorrow at 7, saving the world at 9, and a party with sponsors at 10, who's your secretary who made your timetables??? BECAUSE THEY ARE GOOD.

She IS the moment.

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audhd-nightwing · 5 months

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i don’t get ppl who think real life serial killers are attractive or cool or whatever. like those are Real People. if you wanna call a serial killer babygirl just find a fictional one

like. there’s so many fictional murderers and such that people make edits and fanart/fanfic of and it’s a billion times less problematic than doing that with Actual Real Life Killers. go draw patrick bateman in a maid dress. make some edits of (matthew lillard as) stu and william afton.

have fun with it bc at the end of the day, they are fictional characters and doing that stuff doesn’t hurt anybody. however, doing that with real life killers? that does hurt people.

basically: don’t romanticize actual serial killers when it’s so much less fucked up to just call hannibal lecter your babygirl or draw the riddler as a catboy

#random thought of the day #the romanticization of serial killers #they keep making shows and movies about them #why???#it’s awful #death mention tw #tw serial killers #i don’t go into detail but i wanna be safe #patrick bateman #stu macher #william afton #hannibal lecter #the riddler #fictional characters #lmk if there’s any tags u think i should add

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bennyyrabbit · 3 months

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Still have serial killer intrulogical brainrot but it's a different one this time.

Logan's a stalker who kills all of Remus' partners (they've only ACTUALLY met like once thanks to Roman) and eventually decides to stop staying on the sidelines and "accidentally" runs into Remus in a store

They end up in a relationship a few months later because Remus is like Oooh, you're Hot now, and Oooh, you're smart and cute and kinky and I like that and they end up together.

And then months after they get together Remus finds journal entries about all of Logan's kills (he's not killing anymore because he has his Remus).

And of course, at first, Remus is like, Oh My God, He's Fucking Crazy.

And then he's like OH MY GOD HE'S CRAZY I LOVE HIM.

And eventually he makes a reference to the kill that only Logan would know and Logan finds out that Remus knows.

He panics.

Logan is all like, Remus, Don't Be Afraid Of Me, You Know I Would Never Hurt You, I Never Wanted You To Find Out.

But Remus is all You Killed For Me!!! Yay!!!

And Logan is VERY relieved that Remus is okay with it, and very glad he doesn't have to go into plan b

(Forcing Remus into their basement and locking him up and forcing him to play nice and behave or he doesn't get fed or watered because Logan refuses to lose Remus after he's finally had him [eventually Remus would be let into the rest of the house and even allowed to go back to normal life as long as he didn't try to leave Logan {if he left, Logan would hunt him down and kill him}])

Logan also doesn't tell Remus about his plan b, because he's already walking a thin line of, Remus Knows I Am A Murderer, And Can Now Sell Me Out To Police.

But Remus would never because he's like I Have A Serial Killer Boyfriend!!! Who Killed For Me!!! :)))))!!!

#sanders sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #intrulogical #serial killer au #murder mention #tw mention of murder #tw stalking mention #mention of stalking #tw kidnapping

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misespinas · 1 year

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I'm convinced men point to Aileen Wuornos as “THE female serial killer” (instead of Juana Barraza, for example) is because she is the embodiment of women they hate.

Many people would use the excuse that they point to Wuornos because she is American. There are more than a handful of examples of female serial killers in America who have killed more people than Aileen Wuornos ever did (Christine Falling, Genene Jones, Nannie Doss, Belle Gunness, etc), so she is not special in that regard.

People would argue that her method was just so unspeakable. Most female serial killers murder by poison or similar less violent methods than their male counterparts. Her method of killings was by shooting her victims, which is not very atypical of female murderers.

Aileen Wuornos is singled out as “THE female serial killer” because she was a lesbian, she was a prostitute, and she killed when she knew she would be r*ped.

It is undisputed that Aileen was most likely raped by the first man she killed, Richard Mallory, because he has a history of s*xual assault and rape. People scoff at the idea of a prostitute being raped, but every time you make a person decide on food for dinner or not having sex with you, that is rape.

These men view her as “THE female serial killer” because she is the embodiment of women that are subhuman to them, yet they still believe they deserving of sex from.

Aileen Wuornos was mentally ill; she had a psychopathic personality and likely had ASPD and/or BPD as well. She was severely s*xually abused as a child. There are definitely red flags of someone who would become a disturbed individual, I'm not arguing against that. I'm just asking, “Why do they focus on Aileen Wuornos?”

Reason 1383929 I hate “true crime communities”

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waterfrontcomplex · 4 months

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CYCRANE KILLER - A YANQING SERIAL KILLER AU

TW/CW FOR MURDER, VIOLENCE, DISMEMBERMENT, GENERAL MENTAL INSTABILITY, MENTIONS OF ABUSE

AU INFO ↓

after the disastrous battle at dragonprayer terrace, yanqing is left disheartened, confused, and alone. he was just defeated by 2 criminals, and the one person he trusted with his whole being left him there with no explanation.

he gets healed at the alchemy commission, and returns home. jing yuan eventually recovers, and... everything returns to some sense of normalcy. no 'i'm sorry', no 'are you okay?', no nothing. he receives assignments as usual, and goes through with them with ease.

during an assignment in cloudford, he encounters a man who was on the run and had a warrant out for his arrest for domestic abuse. yanqing pursued the man until he accidentally cornered him with some particularly violent mara-struck, and was killed before he could stop them.

that night, he couldn't stop thinking about the man. he had let a civilian die. but... that man was a terrible person. he had a family that loved him, and he hurt them in return. yanqing felt an unexplainable burst of 'satisfaction' or even 'happiness'. that man would never hurt anybody again.

a terrible idea appeared in his head. what if he purposely killed people like those?

it's extremely illegal and goes against his duty as a cloud knight, but they would deserve it and he's just so, so frustrated. so, he looks into a couple cases and finds one he takes interest in. if he wants to go through with this, he can't use yanzhuo or his ice swords; it would make his identity too obvious. he grabs a blade he's been itching to test out, dons a cloak and leaves during the night.

the break-in and murder is easy enough. most people on the luofu stand no chance against him. adrenaline is rushing through his veins, and now there's a body on the floor and his dagger is covered in blood.

the cleanup is simple; he has the knowledge and resources available to make it look as if his target had just vanished during the night. he dismembers and disposes of the body and returns home. he had just killed another civilian... but they were a terrible person— no, they're not even a person. they're just vermin, unworthy of the title of 'human' and waiting to be eliminated. he feels static in his head.

in the following weeks, he does his best to avoid searching up information about his target. yanqing listens in to gossip instead, and gathers that they had been reported missing but no traces were found. he had gotten away with murder.

and he was going to do it again.

the next few nights, he claims more lives; lives of those unworthy of them. after the murders, the static in his head clears, but comes back later. they disappear during the night without a trace.

while disposing of a body, yanqing encounters a partially broken down cycrane with sentience, like his swords. he fixes it up, and it says it doesn't want to 'return to a mundane life of endless deliveries', so he takes it home and hides it. after a bit of searching, he gives it a name: rosebane.

the cases are starting to catch the attention of the higher-ups. the public now knows about the 'mysterious disappearances', and rumors start spreading like wildfire. some claim it's a monster, other say it's a stalker, and some are claiming that it's a whole group of people. nobody suspects him a bit. tensions are high.

yanqing doesn't want the public to worry too much. rumors of a monster could put the cloud knights on high alert. if he let any witnesses see him, they would know it was a human. and if he brings rosebane, they would know it's the same person, and not a group of people. rosebane wouldn't reveal anything about his real identity, and would be particularly useful for tracking down targets. a monster would be extremely concerning, but a person would be... hopefully less concerning. and with a cycrane, it would lead the investigators away from him.

during his next murder, he chooses a time where there would be a witness, and commits the crime, leaving the body. word gets out, and news of the 'cycrane killer' is everywhere. yanqing masks his nervousness as worry for jing yuan, but he doesn't fully buy it.

he's not crazy, he's not insane at all. he doesn't kill for the adrenaline rush, or to clear the static in his head, or for whatever other reason.

he's just... doing the luofu a favor.

☆⋆⋅───────

RELATIONSHIPS

YANQING -> ROSEBANE

friendly. they are extremely close, but can't talk much since yanqing shouldn't bring them out during the day. they're partners in crime, bound to their secret. he finds their sentience interesting.

YANQING -> JING YUAN

tense. yanqing partly blames jing yuan for his... new hobby. he still cares and would never hurt him on purpose, but he's extremely frustrated and confused. he mainly wants an explanation but feels as if he has no right to ask for one. yanqing also has to tread lightly around jing yuan to avoid him figuring out about his murders.

YANQING -> FU XUAN

cautious. if fu xuan suspects him of anything, she could easily rat him out with the matrix of prescience. he's been keeping his distance.

JING YUAN -> YANQING

worry. jing yuan knows yanqing's upset and has been acting strangely ever since he recovered. he also knows that his retainer is hiding something, but doesn't know what.

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jasontoddenthusiastt · 3 months

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“Jason should get over being upset about his death” - he has, he wasn’t angry at Bruce or the world because they failed him and he ended up dying, which he made clear plain as day and that’s about the most reasonable a person who went through what he went through could be

anyway I don’t think these people realize how gory being bludgeoned to near death is, and maybe it's because of the limitations of the medium that scene was presented in

#not to mention he had to process the added heartbreak of his birth mother’s rejection/betrayal at the same time #like yeah he was cocky and smiling in the uth movie go Jason go but that’s also the same movie that drastically changed the context #and tone of that scene by erasing Sheila #kelseethe #I remember the first time reading aditf I got flashbacks to a Korean horror movie that still puts me in a weird place #anyway it was about a serial killer who went around killing people by beating their skulls in with a hammer #one of the plots was centered around a victim who didn’t die after the first attack and even managed to escape at first #long story short she was running around trying to get help and the cops were useless + he ended up finding her again and finished the job #sfx brains skull blood and viscera everywhere #and that’s exactly what happened to Jason you just didn’t see any gore because it’s an American comic #nor did you hear his screams and the sounds from metal making contact with bone and guts #and like I said the uth movie was pretty sanitized too same for the titans show which also downplayed his death lol #anyway I think it’s really forgiving of Jason not to blame Bruce or anyone else for the fact that they let the circumstances lead to that #and to instead only criticize how nothing was done in the aftermath #Idk I always found it a bit fascinating how it doesn’t seem to have dawned on most people including his fans #exactly how violent that experience was

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benbamboozled · 7 months

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Just today I realized that I have been thinking about every goofy comic development as THE Destiel meme.

Example:

But also…

And

And when I say EVERY I do mean EVERY—

#silly meme #but really though this is how my mind has been filtering it all.#the Destiel meme #comic books are silly #Jason Todd is mentioned #DC really do be killing him off using the UN ambassador of Iran 😔#that time Wally West was a serial killer

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ayyy-imma-ninja · 1 year

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Lily- a DCA!Serial Killer AU drabble

CW: vomiting, mention of drug use

" 'Boy,' she said courteously, 'why are you crying?' "

Sun read aloud to the collection of children at the day's reading circle, his voice module shifting to a higher, feminine pitch to match the character Wendy when speaking her lines. Today's book was 'Peter and Wendy' by J.M. Barrie. Some of the children gathered around him giggled, finding it as silly as when he was pretending to cry as Peter Pan just seconds earlier. A smile of his own was etched on the sun animatronic's face plate, it always elated him to hear the children laugh.

" 'Peter could be exceedingly polite also, having learned the grand manner at fairy ceremonies, and he-' "

"M-Mr. Sun…?"

A small voice croaked his name, and a smaller hand rose in his peripherals. He knew the voice, and his eyes fell on one particular child. His jovial smile became one of concern. The child didn't look very well.

"Lily, are you alright?"

The child, Lily, looked up at Sun with watery eyes slightly obscured by her glasses. She was shaking, appeared rather pale, and a hand was gripping at her shirt over her stomach. It was a familiar sight to Sun. As well as the children, as some had warily begun scooting away from her.

"I…h-have to go…"

Sun knew what that meant and he nodded. Tucking a bookmark in between the pages, he sat the book in his chair and carefully scooped Lily into his arms. "The reading circle will continue in just a moment, Sunbeams! We will be back very soon! Gavin, please make sure the little ones behave," he instructed one of the older kids as he was already on his way to the library's bathroom, hurrying inside.

He knelt with her in front of one of the stalls, removing her glasses and tucking them over the collar of his sweater, then he brushed back her black hair for him to hold. With his other hand, he rubbed Lily's back as she began to cough and retch into the toilet. He gave her a sympathetic look.

"There there, Sunbeam. Get it all out," he gently instructed the poor girl. He had done this a few times with her in the past. The poor thing was prone to sickness due to a heightened sense of anxiety, least that's what Lily's mother told him over the phone the first time it happened. Fortunately, Sun was unbothered by such predicaments. He was used to dealing with ill children.

When Lily had finished, he moved to the wall and let her sit in his lap. He returned her glasses to her, then reached into his pocket and gave her an apple juice box he grabbed before coming here. She sipped it while he continued rubbing her back. "Are you starting to feel better, Lily?" he asked, soft enough that his voice didn't echo.

Lily rubbed at her eyes and nodded with a sniffle, but that didn't stop her from crying. When asked what was the matter, she hiccupped, "I-I feel bad, f-for making you always stop story time…! I-I don't mean to…I'm sorry, M-Mr. Sun…!"

"Aww, Sunbeam…" Sun pulled her into another gentle hug, a hand going in circles on her back. "There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I am not at all upset, sweetie. Only worried. I know you can't help this. Just take a breath. Everything's alright." Sun held Lily close as she buried her face into his sweater, shaking a little less. The small girl sniffled, letting out a shaky breath. She adjusted her head in an odd manner, almost like she was…nuzzling him. He continued rubbing her back as the smallest sob escaped her.

"…I wish you were my mom…"

His hand froze in place.

Sun went completely still. His smile fell entirely, his eyes trained on nothing. It was barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard it. In that moment, he looked back. Every time he saw Lily and her mother together. She ran when dropped off, and walked when being picked up. She never willingly held her mother's hand. The rare times Lily would glance back at him. The look on her face…

"What was that, Sunbeam?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Lily flinched a little in his arms, keeping her face buried. She let go of him, rubbing at her face. "N-Nothing," she answered meekly.

"Oh, alright then." He forced down his building anger. 'Later', he told himself, and he stood up, placing Lily on the ground. "Now, how are you feeling? Are you ready to go back to the circle?" Thinking for a moment, Lily eventually gave him a shy nod. He smiled warmly. "Wonderful! Let's hurry off to Neverland, shall we?" He lightly booped her on the nose, glad to see it warrant him a giggle out of her.

Holding her hand, he walked out of the bathroom towards the reading circle. Though outwardly cheery as he greeted the little ones and resumed reading, that sting still lingered at the base of his chest. Silently, he sent a message.

"Moon."

"Yeah."

"Jackie Langman."

"Lily's mother?"

"…"

"…I'll look into her."

"Thank you."

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Moon sat on the edge of the pier, his legs crossed. The tide was high, and he didn't want his uniform getting wet. He stared out at the empty, moonlit horizon of the bay. No boats were out at this hour, everyone had already docked in for the day. It was a quiet place, free of prying eyes and cameras. No motor engines disturbed the night's peace, leaving only the sound of the wind and the waves…

And the approaching footsteps behind him.

Moon didn't need to turn around to know who was walking down the pier. Before long, Sun joined him in sitting, placing himself at Moon's left. Seeing the high-rising water, he crossed his legs, too. Sun hung his head low, heterochromatic eyes shining back at him in his reflection as his hands rested on the pier's edge.

"…What did you find?" he asked.

Moon glanced at Sun briefly from the corner of his eyes. He could sense something looming in his twin's tone. He looked back out to the horizon with a sigh. Right. Cut to the chase, then.

"Jackie Langman. Single mother, divorced her husband--Lily's father--when Lily was only 3. Began shooting narcotics around that time. Reports from neighbors claim to have heard shouting from inside their home and things being broken. Police could never find anything. Jackie claims to have gone to rehab for her drug use, but there are no records indicating she ever went."

Moon heard the sound of wood creaking on his left and glanced to Sun, whose shoulders were tense. His hands gripped the wood, causing it to begin splintering. His rays rattled like a snake's tail. Moon let out another small sigh. "Sun-"

"Why didn't I see it sooner…?" Sun interrupted. His brows were tightly knit, teeth gritted together. His colored pupils had shrunken a little. "Three months…Lily's been part of the reading circle for three months. They were there…The signs were all there, and I didn't see it."

"Sun, you can't burden this on yourself," Moon told him calmly.

"Do you know what she said to me earlier?" Sun continued, like Moon hadn't said anything. "In the bathroom, as I held her. She told me, 'I wish you were my mom'." Moon's eyes widened slightly, hearing this. Sun smiled, but it was full of bitterness and self-disgust. "That was when I realized. Only then did I…" An inhale rattled in his chest, clearly fighting to keep himself composed. “I hate that I had to pretend to not hear what she said…”

Moon remained silent for a moment, allowing Sun the chance to collect himself. "Sun. As much as you hate it, we can’t let anything rouse suspicion. Especially from the kids. But don’t worry. What matters is that we know, now. And we can do something about it. I've already looked at potential guardians. Her dad is just as crooked as Jackie, so he's a no-go. Lily has an aunt up in Milwaukee; she seems pretty clean, and it looks like she's tried to fight for custody over Lily in the past."

"We need to act now." Moon blinked, confused by Sun's sudden declaration. "Whatever we do, we need to do it now."

"Sun, hold your horses. We still need to find a way of getting to Jackie, and make sure Lily is out of the way," Moon explained. "I understand your anger, but we can't jump into this-"

"And why not?!" Sun's voice cracked as it rose. The wood under his hand cracked as well, his face plate twisted with rage, as well as fear, colored pupils now rattling pinpricks. "We can't sit and plan and wait too long about this, Moon! We just can't! We need to act now, before it's t-too late…!" His voice wavered, and his eyes flickered before squeezing shut. Sun's breath shuddered as he tried to control it, like he was fighting to keep himself from crying. "I-It can't happen again…"

Moon waited once again, giving Sun a needed moment. Then he reached and placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Sun. Look at me." He instructed softly. Sun did so, his optics shining. Moon gave him a gentle, but firm look. "It won't be like how it was with her. We won't let that happen. I promise you."

Slowly, Sun managed to calm himself down. He took a breath and thumbed away the oil tears in his eyes. Once composed, he gave Moon a faint smile. "Thank you, brother…"

Moon returned that smile to Sun, lightly patting him on the back. Then he stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and offered a hand to Sun. "Shall we get to work?"

The other animatronic accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet. Sun gave a firm nod, walking with Moon back down the pier. "Let's do it." He would save Lily, no matter what it took.

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:3c

@moonlit-dreamers

#dca!serial killer au #serial killer duo #serial killer sun #serial killer moon #fnaf daycare au #fnaf daycare attendant #drabble #cw vomit #cw mention of drug use #sun the librarian

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