#my parents almost named me flashlight

[luveline]

Hi Jade! First of all thank you for bringing back the zombie au, it is my absolute fave! Second, if you are taking requests for it currently, maybe r (with Robin maybe?) goes and finds a gift for Steve just to make him smile (which may or may not make him break into tears with how vulnerable and emotional he's been with all the stuff he's been through?) Thank you for all your lovely writing!

thank you anon! fem!reader, 8k —You, Steve and Robin make a risky trip for non-essentials to improve your quality of life at the camp. Steve's feeling stressed, you try to make it better, and Robin finds a cat in the display section of the mattress store. 

tw for zombie apocalypse typical implied violence and gore, food insecurity, injury

"We'll call it something really cool," Robin says, "like Y/N and Robin's ultimate quest for cleanliness." 

Robin is a little dirty today. She's scraped her hair back into a tiny ponytail, and it flicks out at the back of her head like a feather duster. You think it's adorable, and you lean around her shoulders to try and touch it. Steve pulls you back bodily. 

"Stop touching her," he says. 

"Just her hair," you say. 

"No, because you know how ansty she is, it's like poking a sleeping dragon." 

"Shut up! Shut up, loser, I haven't been antsy at all, I'm planning a girl's trip as we speak." 

You laugh and fall back into Steve's arms, the kind of laugh that makes your chest feel tight and your eyes scrunch closed. A girl's trip is definitely one way to put it. 

"I'm just saying," Steve says, not just saying at all, "that you're dangerous right now. Next time I'll let her touch your hair and you can bite her hand off." 

"She can touch my hair. I don't know if you've noticed, Harrington, but that right there is my very best friend."

And okay, it's not true, Steve and Robin have the strongest friendship you've ever seen, but there is a truth behind it —you and Robin get along well. It would be difficult not to love her, she's a gem, and she cares about the person you care about most in the world at the same level (though in a different calibre). 

You worm out of Steve's arms to give her a quick hug. Steve steals you away again and you laugh as you go, flopping your weight onto him and almost knocking him flat onto his back. 

You, Robin and Steve are sitting around the campfire in the centre of camp. It's rather big and blissfully hot, the sky a velvet black that hides the smoke. Children sit with droopy eyes to the left, some with parents and most without, though the community is full of good people with great hearts who've swooped in to help look after them. Already, an older woman named Matildhe seems to have gathered a brood of six children, all young, and all wanting cuddles. To the right, Jeremy Livingstone and Joyce Byers plan the unplannable, a map of Michigan at their feet held down by stones. Jonathan sits by his mother's legs with a baby in his lap, her sleeping face pressed to his chest. He taps her back absent-mindedly. "What about here?" he asks, drawing a circle with his finger. Will, his younger brother, moves the flashlight beam to follow his direction. 

Despite the fire, the wind bites at your backs, a nippy chill. Steve has solved this by becoming your windbreaker, or so he claims. 

"She loves me," you murmur. 

"I love her," Robin agrees. 

"That's why you can't come on our girl's trip," you say. 

"Girls," Steve says, measured, "I'm unsure, but I'm starting to think that you think you're going somewhere without me." 

"No, we know you'll crash the party. But we're going to pretend you aren't there," Robin says. 

Her chipper attitude makes you laugh for the millionth time tonight. Steve laughs in tandem behind you, his breath fanning warmly over the shell of your ear. 

It smells like woodsmoke and pine needles meshed together here, two smells that alone are nice but together give you a headache. You wrinkle your nose and sit up properly, worried about squashing Steve or hurting his bad knee. "The smell is so strong out here," you say. 

"Shit, this guy bothering you?" Steve asks, pointing his thumb at the fire. 

"Kick his ass, Steve," Robin says. 

"Are you losers drunk?" Dustin asks. 

You twist on your butt to face him, Steve's favourite sixteen year old standing in the dark wearing two coats and three scarfs. 

"Are you cold?" Steve asks. "Come and sit with us." 

"We aren't drunk, just happy," you say, gesturing for him to do as Steve said. 

Dustin sits by the fire with you, groaning. "What is there to be happy about?" 

You bite your top lip. Dustin is so young, and he's lost a lot. More than he ever should've had to lose, twice, his sense of normalcy destroyed. You don't blame him for being depressed over what is possibly the most traumatic thing he will ever have to experience. You don't want to offer him empty platitudes or tell him how to feel, and Steve doesn't want to either, but he can't watch him mope. He loves him too much. 

"Dusty," he teases, "don't be so down. Haven't you seen this glorious and ridiculously enormous bonfire we have going on?" 

"I see it," Dustin says from behind gritted teeth. 

"Hey, do you want to sleep in our tent tonight?" Steve asks, a tad more seriously. "It's warmer with more people, and it's not as crowded as you think it'll be." 

"No, thanks." 

"You could drag your tent closer," you say, quieter, trying not to smother him or embarrass him with parenting he never asked for. 

"I don't like being near the boundary. You guys might be okay with ending up as geek chow but the rest of us have common sense." 

"Well, we didn't really have a choice there," Robin says. 

Which is true. The kids all get to sleep in tents close to the fire, and the adults are a row behind. You guys aged out of the kids category a long time ago, so you're the ones who'll be eaten first, but you're also the ones who'll hear the can alarms when they ring on the tripwires first. 

Steve sleeps with his baseball bat anyhow. 

You disentangle yourself from Steve's grips and meet his eyes. He doesn't need you to tell him, but you give him a look that hopefully says, Maybe you should talk to him. Eyebrows raised gently, lips pursed. 

Steve sighs like he's preparing himself and shuffles around you. He doesn't begrudge Dustin needing cheering up, you know that. He probably just wishes he could offer Dustin more than, "We have food and water and a place to pee." 

Robin crawls right to your side and sets back on her haunches. "Here's what I think we should do." 

"Wait, you don't wanna wait for Steve to explain?" 

"Nope, he'll say no. Me and you have to find the best way to sell it so we can actually go."

"You aren't kidding about the girl's trip?" 

"Nope. Look, the situation is dire. We know where the mall is, we've been there tons of times. The whole group can't go and we don't trust most people to keep us alive anyways, so me, you and Steve will go. We'll sleep there or something too, so there's no pressure on us to rush back and stress out Steve." 

"Wouldn't it be safer to hurry back?" you ask. 

Robin hums. "Maybe. Uh, if we travel at night like I've been thinking about doing I don't think we could hurry back." 

"At night?" 

"We're basically nocturnal at this point." You dip your head toward her mildly. She drops the slight facade she'd had, "I would feel better. If we went at night." 

The College, the community you and your group had inhabited until recently, was attacked and destroyed by raiders. They were likely drawn by the black smoke of the small bonfire in the quad of the campus, lit to celebrate a quasi-thanksgiving. It wasn't supposed to end up the way it had. 

Robin got attacked. Steve was there to help her get away uninjured, earning himself a black eye. She can't sleep if she's by herself anymore. You hate yourself for not being there to protect them. 

She's afraid of being attacked by people rather than geeks now. Travelling at night increases the likelihood of dying via geek (you can't see them, they can smell you), but it vastly decreases the chance of meeting other people. It makes sense that a night time excursion is her preference. 

You just don't know how you feel about it, and you have no clue how you might convince Steve to go along with it.  

"So you want us to hike to the mall at night. Is it on the map? Where even is it?" 

"I don't remember the name, Steve'll know it 'cos we've been there, but what matters is that I know for a fact there's a fancy soap store. I need soap, Y/N. I can't take this anymore. And if I don't brush my teeth soon I'm going to scream, my finger can only do so much." 

Occasionally three of you take a pea sized dollop of paste and rub it over your teeth in an effort to feel less disgusting, the same way that you wash with a rag and cold water behind the treeline, and dunk your clothes in the river without detergent. Water is a good cleaner, but eventually there's a funk in the clothes that can't be washed out without soap, or Robin's current issue: oily hair.

Without soap and toothbrushes, you feel about as disgusting as a person can feel. If you don't make this trip soon, you'll be in the exact same boat as Robin, one bad stain away from screaming. 

"And the fancy soap shop definitely has soap?" 

"Definitely. And there's a department store with blankets, too. We could really improve the quality of our miserable lives." 

"You don't have to convince me," you say, though it might not hurt in actuality. You're hesitant to leave the camp, but if Robin's leaving she can't go without Steve (who would never let her go alone), or you, because you refuse to be separated from Steve (or her, honestly). "It's Grim Fandango who needs greasing." Grim being Steve. 

Steve has managed to wrap an arm around Dustin. You're half-expecting Dustin to be wriggling under his touch, desperate for an escape, a teenage boy allergic to both sincerity and affection, but Dustin's dissolved like jello powder in boiling water, totally slouched into Steve's side. Steve's hand runs the younger boy's upper arm briskly.

"It'll be okay, dude, I promise. We've come this far," Steve says. 

"I'm just tired," Dustin says quietly. 

"Maybe we should sell it, as uh, an enrichment trip," you suggest to Robin. "We can get stuff for the kids, some board games or something." They need an escape. 

"I miss my books," Robin says. 

"Holy shit, me too. Steve says you can tell the plot of every Agatha Christie novel from memory, is that true?" you ask. 

"Only the good ones. Can I lie down on you?" 

You let Robin lie down with her head on your thigh. It can't be comfortable but maybe it's better than the floor, or maybe it's just nice to be close to someone. You like having Robin with you. You'd been so apprehensive of her when you met, not because she was Steve's best friend —though that did worry you to some extent— but because you had trust issues to the neck and she was the first person beside Steve to be nice to you without motivation. In this world, that doesn't check out. 

"What ones do you know?" 

"Murder on the Orient Express?" she offers. 

"Okay. Set the scene, Buckley." 

Steve returns just after the detective finds out that Ratchet has been murdered. "I love this part," he says. 

"Then let me tell it." 

Robin spins for a while, but you peel away from the fire before you're too tired to stand and retreat to your makeshift tent. It's a tarp held up by two sticks and a blanket on the floor, but it works to keep away the rain and most bugs. There's not quite enough room for you three, but there's also literally no other option, and none of you mind. You squeeze in like tinned sardines, sleeping in your coats and shoes. 

In the morning, you and Robin attempt to sell your idea to Steve over lukewarm oxtail soup. You and Steve share. Robin had to tip half into a bowl for someone else. The rationing is going okay. 

You could've ended up with a can of garden peas, or chopped tomatoes.

"It's actually better if it's only us, you see, because we can sneak around and it'll be much quieter. And they don't need us here right now, everything's settled. And me and Y/N want to so we should." 

Steve wraps your hand around the can of soup so you don't touch the hot bottom. He doesn't look like he's even remotely listening to Robin, his eyes on your face and his hands not far behind. He neatens you up, so to speak, scratching a little dirt speck from your cheek and folding the rolled collar of your shirt. "This," he says finally, his hand curling behind your neck, "sounds like a very bad idea." 

You shudder happily as he starts to scratch your neck down to your shoulders. "Steve, what's bad about it? We'll be like the Three Musketeers, travelling in darkness, a mission for the people." 

"Did you ever read that book?" Steve asks, his hand dropping to your shoulder, where it stays for a reverent second. You look gross and he still wants to squeeze you. 

"No," you admit, lips on the sharp edge of your soup. You take a careful sip. 

"We get there quickly, spend a night on the mattresses at the department store, and… Hey, why don't we go live in the mall?" Robin asks. 

The idea of a real mattress is seductive, but not that much. 

"Because we don't want to paint a huge target on our backs?" you ask. 

"I'm kidding." Robin peers down at her soup unhappily. "I really hate oxtail." 

Steve noticeably flickers. He meets your eyes, and you think he's speaking to you in his head. Fucking hell, I can't believe what I'm about to agree to. 

"If you can convince Mrs. Byers to delegate us an actual weapon, then okay, fine, we can go to the mall." He stretches out his mostly healed knee and rubs it with both hands. "Fuck. A knife. Actually, I want each of us to have a weapon. So if you can somehow magic that into being, we can go." 

"I don't see why we even had to ask permission," Robin jokes, "like it's the sixties or something." She springs up to her feet, forces her oxtail soup into the hands of one of the preteens by the fire, and beelines for the small crowd of kids surrounding one much taller Joyce. 

"You'd still come with us even if you didn't want to," you say. 

"Yeah, obviously. Robin's right, this isn't the sixties. That being said, if it was a worse plan, I'd tie you to a tree." 

"I could be into that," you tease, pleased when he scoffs through a laugh. His elbow drives into your side. "Stop, fiend." 

"No, fiend. Take the force of my elbow." He nudges you. 

You elbow back. He elbows harder. You potentially give him a bruise and feel extremely bad when he "Oofs," aloud. 

"Sorry," you say, climbing up on your knees to put your arms on his shoulders. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." 

He shoves you away from him and you're evil, you're selfish, you want him to dote. You fall flat on your back in the dirt and grass, covering your smile with the crook of your elbow so he doesn't immediately know you're fine. 

"Shit," he cusses, kneeling between your legs, moving to hover over you. "I didn't mean to knock you down…" He sees your smile. "You lying conniving trickster." 

You smile harder, lips pressed together and your chest light as a feather for the first time in days, until suddenly he's squished on top of you and pressing down. "Ow," you fake, wriggling away from him. "I think there's a twig in my brain." 

He wriggles with you. "You suck, you made me think I hurt you." 

"Don't be a wuss, I get hurt all the time, how do you even know I'm not hurt?" 

He sighs all quiet and lifts your head off of the grass. "I can't see through your hair," he says, "did it actually hurt?" 

You take his face into your hands. Your fingers are very cold, but he doesn't flinch. 

"I'm messing with you, H." 

"When did that nickname catch on?" 

You rub his cheeks with your thumbs. Fingers behind his ears, you smooth over his short scratchy stubble affectionately. Quick, you lift your chin and touch your lips to his. It's hardly a kiss. 

He leans down slowly and makes it a better one. 

"Stop," Robin says, kicking you in the ribs. She isn't cruel about it, more of a toe touch. 

"Oh, hi, that was a quick rejection," you say, frowning. 

Robin beams. "Actually, we've been approved. One knife apiece and a request for children's clothes. Get packing!" 

She whizzes off in another direction, seemingly to pack and gather the allocated weaponry. 

Steve drops his chin back down to you. 

"Does she have secret things we don't know about?" he asks. 

You scratch his scalp, "Mm… I'm not supposed to tell you." 

He sits up. You frown.

"She really has a secret stash?"

"No, Steve," you laugh. "No, of course she doesn't. Where would she hide them?" 

Steve yanks you up by the arm playfully. You pretend to fight him, but it's no use. You'll do anything he wants you to. 

—

Steve didn't necessarily think that a hike through the outskirts of an infested city would be easy, but he also hadn't realised it would be this boring. Especially a trip he's already made in the past. Boring and kind of hard. 

It's not because you aren't capable —you might've taken a hit when The College collapsed, but you've mostly recovered, and your endurance is good. You have the best survival skills you've ever had, and Robin is similarly ready for whatever it is that might get thrown at you. Too bad preparation doesn't make you a ninja. 

He isn't at his peak and he was no man of steel beforehand, and although he was good enough to keep you both alive, he's not sure if it's still true. Plus, he wasn't expecting to feel so moody. 

You're marching on like a true warrior next to him, your hand around his wrist and swinging gently, your eyes on the ground. Steve's flashlight carves a weak path through the dusk. Soon, it'll be completely dark, and that's when he imagines his worrying will reach a fever pitch. 

For now, he tries to be chill. 

"Is my hand not good enough for you?" he asks. 

"I figure you can pull away from me quicker if you need to if we're not, like, sewed together." 

"You have weird hands," Robin interjects. "They're big. I wouldn’t hold them either.” 

"That's why they're nice hands, Robin," you say. "Well, maybe they're just nice because I love him."

"I love him. Mostly. He still has weird hands," she says. 

"You don't get it," you say. 

You wrap your arms around his bicep and hug it quickly before backing away again. He thinks you kiss his coat, but he really can't tell. 

"I don't think I want to get it," Robin says.

You're quieter when you ask, "Is that really true? You don't want to be in love?" 

In the dark, and at night, it's quiet. It's nearly always quiet everywhere you go nowadays, but it feels immense this far from the camp. Steve is on edge. Too distracted for heart to hearts. But he wants to know the answer too, so he stays nice and quiet. 

"I love that you're in love," Robin says lightly. "And I love you both. But I've seen you guys when you think you're going to lose each other, and surviving is hard enough without… that." 

You let your hand slide down to his hand, your palm flat to the top, not holding it but holding him. 

Steve clears his throat. "It's worth losing my mind every time she decides to wander off because of the peace she gives me when we're together." 

"The peace?" Robin asks. She sounds like she wants to be incredulous but his sincerity has tripped her up. 

"I'm with her and…" He can see the side of your face in the flashlight. You're smiling shyly, your gaze on the grass beneath your shoes. Footsteps rustle in the gap of his words. "I don't want to be anywhere else as long as she's there." 

"It sounds like a toothache," Robin says. 

"You know, I used to get bad toothaches all the time before we found you, and Steve made me a teeth guard out of a leather armchair with a pen knife and a needle and thread." 

"Did you just make that up? Trying to convince me about the magic of love?" Robin asks. 

"No, he really made it for me, I used to keep it in my nightstand," you say. He can hear your smile.

He made it because watching you cry from toothache left him feeling powerless. A guy who'd never even held a needle and thread before bent over his lap with a flashlight in the hours while you slept until his eyes burned because watching you sniffle made him feel sick. He can't describe the ache of it, loving you but not having kissed you, or even really told you, his girl so stressed at night your jaw had locked tight and you were reduced to whimpers each morning. Having to watch you pretend it wasn't happening until you couldn't, until you broke down crying with your hand wrapped around his wrist like it is now. Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Steve, I just– I want– I don't know– I can't– 

He was useless. He was stupid. He could barely bring himself to rub your back because he thought another touch might knock you over. 

Calm down, honey, he'd murmured. Just calm down.

He never could've imagined seeing you cry like that before he did. You couldn't move. You explained it like a headache when words became feasible again, which, Steve's had headaches; concussive migraines that were white hot and everywhere. So he could imagine it even if he'd never felt it, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. Willing to try anything, he'd even wondered if he could pull your tooth out himself. Mouth surgery is prone to infection, and he couldn't face levelling that amount of pain onto you personally. So rather than fix the tooth, he'd have to fix the stress. He couldn't fix the stress, so he looked for anything at all to ease the pain. Ibuprofen, codeine, even a course of antibiotics. And then, finally, the leather mouth guard. Leather stacked and sewed with sanitised, loving hands. 

"It's weird what that kind of love can bring out of you," Steve says quietly, matching the surroundings. "I did a great job. I'm a seamstress." 

Robin pretends to throw up generously and noisily. Steve shushes her. You, in a very good mood with no signs of calming down, laugh behind your hand. 

"I can make you another one," he offers. He hadn't thought about it yet, but of course you don't have it anymore. Anything in your nightstand is lost forever. 

"You might need to. I'll be a stressed mess all over again if we don't find some socks, I can feel my ankle bone piercing the back of my shoes," you say. No socks either. 

Robin's flashlight turns quickly to the right. You and Steve flinch at the same time to guard the other, peering in the exposed direction. There aren't many trees around here, so all to be seen is yellow-green grass and empty air. 

"Sorry, I got the heebies," Robin says. "Maybe it was your disgusting declarations of love." 

"Hardy-har. Where the fuck do you think we are right now?" Steve asks. 

"Wait, you don't know?" you ask. 

"You have the map," he says back. 

"Oh, right. But how do we navigate in the dark? We don't have a compass." 

"I have the compass!" Robin announces. 

"From where?" you ask. 

"How did you think we'd get there in the dark, angel?" Steve asks you genuinely. 

He doesn't have time to wonder if it's okay to call you angel. He's never done it before, but it felt right in the moment. You're kind of like an angel, protective and sweet and a symbol for goodness. 

"I thought because you guys already knew where it was– we– we set off while it was still light! I assumed we'd just walk straight." 

Steve and Robin laugh at you, but not without love. 

You pretend to sulk for a while, though you shine your flashlight at the map when he asks, your arm threaded through his and face leaning on his shoulder. "I'm so confused," you mumble. 

"Don't worry. I know where we are now," he says.

"No, I know where we are too, but I'm confused as to why I thought this was a good idea." 

"This is a good idea because I've had greasy hair for two weeks and I feel like a worm," Robin says. "And we need blankets, and moisturiser, and to feel like real people."

Steve has a better list than that. He needs moisturisers for your cracked hands, antiseptic for the healing cut on your thigh. He needs shaving foam or at the least a goddamn razor, a new shirt, you both need underwear and you're in dire need of shoes that fit. He wouldn't mind a compression support for his knee, a pair of scissors, and most of all a box of cigarettes —a quick trip to the pharmacy would fix a lot of problems. 

"I feel pretty real." 

"You're real pretty," Steve says quickly. 

"Yes! Oh, yes! Kiss?" you cheer, delighted at his swift wit. 

Steve knows —he knows— you're putting on a brave face for him. He cried on your shoulder and you haven't cried since. You're being the strong one. You're trying to make it work. 

You've always been the strong one. Steve has taken care of you so many times; held your hand in torrential rain when you were too tired to go on; scrambled through rotten floorboards to find you on your back and unconscious, fed you water in your sleep half-worried you were dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He's fought for you, the dead and the living —he would do worse for you. But you've done the impossible, surviving every ache and pain, coming back from things he didn't think you would. You crawled through glass for him. You stumbled in the dark bleeding and exhausted to do as he asked, to meet him at the end of an endless day. 

He gives you the kiss you asked for. There's only one clue that you aren't as happy as you seem. Your breath catches as he leans down, like you thought he might not give you one after all. 

It takes you hours to get there and way longer than you thought. You don't realise you're upon it until the grass turns to roads under your feet, and the road turns to parking lot. There's a shattering of glass spread over the floor like a spilled bag of salt that crunches under your shoes. Steve grips your elbow and the three of you creep inside past the doors. They're open, which is bad and good. Bad because someone's been here since the last time, and might still be inside. Good, because Steve's not sure any of you have the energy to open them. 

"I don't think I have to say this, but please, let's whisper from here," Steve suggests. 

"Damn, do we have to?" Robin whispers. "I was just about to start my rendition of Singing in the Rain." 

You laugh through your nose. 

"We'll go up to the bedding store, okay? And we'll grab some blankets, and then we'll find a storage room and barricade ourselves in."

"Steve, I wanna sleep on a mattress," Robin whines. 

"But we don't know who's here," he says. "Buckley, I swear, I'll carry a mattress back to camp for you if that's what you want, but we have to live to see the morning first." 

"It's not like we haven't done it before," you say, nudging her gently. "Can we go back to whispering? I'm really nervous. I don't want to attract anything." 

"Sorry," Robin whispers. 

Being outside in the dark had felt horrifying but mostly manageable. Being inside is terrifying too, and though your flashlights make it easy to navigate now that there's walls for the light to reflect off of, it's scarier knowing this is an enclosed space. You can only run so far in either direction. 

Your fingers twist in the corner of his hoodie. He doesn't say anything. For a split second, he remembers you doing it in the past, before he'd even thought about kissing you, when you were scared and he was more angry than anything else (though not usually at you). He'd pretend he didn't feel it. He was a bitch but he was never cruel, and if you needed to scrunch the hem of his jacket in your hand to feel better then that was alright. 

"You okay?" he murmurs. 

"I'm okay. I think my cut is weeping." 

"What?" he asks, head clicking as he turns to you. "Since when?"

"Not sure, it just feels weird, like it's wet." 

"This is the kind of thing I'd love to know." Steve sighs. "The bedding place is up here somewhere. You can let me take a look at it." 

You, Steve and Robin walk up the frozen escalators, your footsteps making banging metal sounds that echo through what feels like the entire mall. Hackles raised, Steve ushers you both into the bedding store, pulling Robin by the sleeve before she can stop to deliberate over blankets to the very back of the store where a door demarcates the Staff Only room. 

"Listen," he whispers, "we are going to go in there back to back, just like we always do. Robs, I promise, as soon as I've checked her leg, I'll help you do whatever you want. Cool?" 

"My leg is fine." 

"If it gets infected, I know for a fact there aren't any antibiotics here," he says. They've looked. "We have to stay in front of it. Are you ready?" 

"Steve, we're not amateurs," Robin says. She hums. "Okay, I might be, but you owe Y/N some respect." 

"No, I'm an amateur." 

"You're not an amateur," Steve says. "Girls, please." 

"Can we veto 'girls'? I want to be dudes," Robin says. 

"Robin–" 

"Okay, okay! Let's do it." 

—

You wake up with the driest mouth in the world, your head bumping from hunger and bad sleep —the floor still feels like the floor, no matter how many pillows you have— to sounds just outside of the door. 

You hike up on elbows and feel your heart climb into your mouth. Steve's hand is on your neck, and Robin's foot is over your calf, and this is a very bad time to be locked in, especially weighed down as you are by fleece blankets. 

"Steve," you whisper, blindly reaching out with your own hand. You accidentally smack him in the face with the base of your thumb. "Oh, shit, sorry. Steve, there's something outside." 

He's impressively alert when he opens his eyes. He couldn't have been sleeping deeply. "What kind of something?" he whispers back, sitting up. 

He pushes the blankets away and climbs onto his knees. The noise happens again, quickly followed by a smash and a third sound like a thump. 

Robin flinches awake next to you. You put your hand on her shoulder, hoping it says, Hey, it's fine, you're fine.

"Where's your bag?" Steve asks you, standing up tall.

It's disgusting, but you're holed up in the employee bathroom. As far from the toilet and sinks as physically possible but with a buffer from the door. Staying in a storage closet hadn't been possible, the staff room door hanging off the hinges enough to not close, and the storage room a medium space crammed to bursting with mattresses and shelves of sheets that wobbled threateningly when touched. 

Your bag is somewhere under the blankets. You scramble onto your knees and search for it. You'd put your things away for the sake of neatness. Silly move.  

"Here," you say, pulling out a flashlight for Steve. He takes it into one hand, pen knife in the other unsheathed. "It's probably a geek." 

"Yeah. Can you put your shoes on?" he asks, not unkindly. 

You shake yourself and do as he asks you to. Robin helps you up. Steve creeps to the door, waiting for you both before he opens it into the main floor. 

"I don't think we need the torch," Robin says. 

Daylight illuminates the room through the windows set in the west wall. You all squint and step out, arms in defensive positions, treading softly so as not to be heard. 

Another thump. You can't hear footsteps, exactly, just the occasional, irregular thump. Geeks are usually noisier. Dragging steps. They'll walk into walls if they're following a specific scent. 

Steve turns to you both and raises his eyebrows. Brace yourselves. 

He hits the butt of the knife into the wall three times. 

Nothing shows itself. You stand frozen for a few minutes anyways, even when Steve and Robin decide they want to venture further into the room and scope out the place. You watch their backs, heart still pounding and with no signs of stopping. 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve curses. 

“What?” you and Robin hiss at the same time. 

“Come here. Y/N, come over here,” he says, like you aren’t already half-way across the floor to meet them. 

Steve gestures at a showcase bed with velvet purple sheets. They’re not even dusty, no signs of time or wear, nothing to speak of a different age. Nothing, that is, beside the dead bird on the pillowcases, and the carpeting of fur surrounding it. It's odd for Steve to point you towards any gore, and you're a tad shocked, until he takes your forearm in his hand and pulls you in front of him. "See?" he murmurs. 

He points to the pillow. You follow his finger. 

Robin speaks first. Correction, Robin squeaks first. 

"Is that a cat?" she asks, all the excitement of her discovery squashed tightly into a frankly impressive whisper-shout. 

Robin refuses to move after that. She begs Steve for some of the dried jerky (of unknown origin and animal) from the rucksack and lays down on her stomach when the tugged tabby you've found flees beneath the bed frame. "Here, kitty," she murmurs, her gentlest tones. "Come on, killer, I need your help." 

Steve nudges you.

"Oh, you're talking to me?" you ask Robin.

"I need your help," Robin insists, looking at you from over her shoulder. Her hair is limp around her face, her cheeks flushed red with excitement. "She has to know we're all friends."

"Watch my back?" you ask Steve. 

He sits on the end of the bed, "Don't have to ask." 

You set down carefully next to Robin and peer under the bed for the tabby. Your arrival has scared her half to death. 

"Maybe she's only used to seeing geeks," you say. 

"Maybe she thinks we're geeks," Robin says agreeably. 

"Me and Steve found a dog once, but he wouldn't let us touch. He begged for food and then he ran away," you say. 

"The dog wouldn't let you touch him, or Steve wouldn't let you touch the dog?" Robin asks, waving the jerky around.

"A bit of both." 

"Kitty," Robin sings. 

"Oh, god, this is comfy as fuck," Steve mumbles, laying down in bed. "Robin, you have to get up and watch your six, babe." 

You and Robin laugh in sync and aloud at his 'babe'. It's you who stands and continues taking mild guard. You're not worried about intruders anymore, thinking that any company would have presented itself already, but you like keeping them safe. You take check of every corner of the room, spinning in the world's slowest circle. Robin baby talks to the cat under the bed while offering scraps of jerky. Steve, having curled away from the bird, lets his fingertips brush your thigh each time you turn. 

"Getting dizzy?" he asks. 

"Yes. And hungry, too, which is a weird feeling together. Can I have some of the jerky?" 

Steve offers the bag. "If you're hungry, eat what you want, but if you can keep it to a little portion just in case we can't find anything else, honey…" 

You stop spinning so much to eat jerky. You eat more than you should, you hunger a cruel, sharpened thing that jabs from your stomach and up into your diaphragm. You hand Steve back the bag before you can eat someone else's share and decide to focus on the other negatives in your life, like your shoes. 

"Can we look for shoes soon?" you ask. 

"Yeah, honey," Steve says. Honey, honey. His voice is soft with an ever-present fatigue. 

"I don't think this cat likes me very much," Robin says, still singing. 

"She's just scared. Maybe if we leave and come back again she'll realise we're friendly," Steve says. 

"Yes sir." Robin stands, brushing herself down. "Oh, ew, Steven, how can you lie there? You know the cat's probably spayed all over that bed, right?" 

Steve springs up. "Okay, ew." 

“It’s okay,” she says. “Let’s go get some new clothes.”

It’s harder than it should be. The three of you move from store to store on high alert for what has to be an hour, searching for practical, fitting clothes. The time for modesty is over, and you take turns changing in front of one another while the others make sure you aren’t about to become naked geek feed. You’re so unclean that putting clean clothes on feels wrong, but you do it anyhow. You double back to the store with suitcases and bags and fill a suitcase to bursting point with the clothes that Joyce requested for the children. You sit yourselves down at some point, always exhausted, to try on sneakers. The relief of finding and changing into a pair that fits cannot be understated. When you’re sure there’s at least pants and a sweater for every child, you pack up and head for the fancy soap shop. 

Robin is ecstatic. Ideally, you can all carry one bag on your shoulders and pull one suitcase, so you each fill a bag with soaps and brushes and powders, figuring that if you find food or medication worth carrying you can empty one of the bags rather than double back. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t actually sleep on a mattress,” Steve says. 

Robin shrugs nonchalantly, kicking aside an empty helium tank with her foot as you pass by a card and gift store. She’s grown less happy as time goes on, unsatisfied with the day's events. Finding nice soap hadn’t felt important with no water around to use it. The cat was rabid, you’re all living off of jerky and river water, and now you have to hike home again in the dark, hours of fear and tenseness. 

“I miss your car,” Robin says. 

You hadn’t ever been in Steve’s car, but you say, “Me too.”

“Maybe we should find a real tent,” Steve says, apparently not listening. 

“Isn’t that kind of mean?” Robin asks. 

“I mean, if the others wanted a tent, they could’ve come.”

“I don’t think it's mean,” you say. “But I don’t see how we can carry it.”

“I can carry it,” Steve says. “Just a small one. Big enough for us.”

“Does us include me?” Robin asks. 

Steve laughs. “Duh, it includes you. It’s Y/N that’s gonna have to sleep outside.”

“Or me and her can have the tent and you can be our watchdog.”

“We can’t, um, stay outside forever, right?” you ask quietly. 

Steve puts his arm over your shoulder for a quick squeeze. “No, we can’t. We’ll find somewhere permanent soon. There’s barely any geeks the more we get into Michigan, who knows. Maybe there's none at all up top. But…" He lets you go. "I'll find somewhere." 

"Steve, you sound ridiculous," Robin says. "'I'll find somewhere,'" she quotes, voice deepened. 

Robin might joke, but you feel reassured by Steve's promise. You keep your head up for the rest of the day. 

— 

Later, much later, when you've travelled back to the camp with aching everythings and taken the world's coldest bath in the river nearby, you, Robin and Steve pitch your brand new tent and near collapse. It was night when you finally reached the camp that day, and so it was morning by the time you laid down. Steve has to admit that bathing and building a tent in the dark had been fun, annoying and indicative of the situation but a pleasure anyhow, to hear his favourite people in the whole world trying not to shriek at the cold water, overjoyed and laughing as you finally washed your face with real soap, and terrified that the river would knock you down. 

You're shaking with the cold now in his arms, practically sitting on his thigh as you brush his still damp hair back from his eyes. 

"I can't believe you're still cold," he says, kissing the line of your jaw affectionately. 

Robin, despite hours without sleep, had volunteered to help Sarah corral the younger kids for some early breakfast. Steve thinks it's because she likes Sarah. Your theory was that she's generous enough to give you a half hour of privacy. She's good like that. 

Whatever it is, you're alone for the first time in days. It's no different than when you're with friends, only you're touchier and Steve's an honest fool. 

You wrap one of your new blankets tighter around your shoulders and shift. "Am I hurting you?" 

"Nope." He squeezes you tightly to his front. "You're shivering. Put your hands under my shirt." 

You do it quickly, smiling like he's given you the world. "'Member when you'd let me do this? Even when we weren't really dating?" 

"We were dating," he says. 

"What, before or after the taco truck incident?" 

"Before," he says sharply. He pauses. "Alright, maybe not then. But we were definitely dating when you'd put your hands in my shirt. You don't do that for just anyone, I'm not a run around." 

"Steve, you used to let me sleep in your lap. Like, a month after we met." 

"'Cos you get so damn cold," he says. You're still shivering. He rests his cheek against your neck. "If I didn't let you, you'd spend the whole night shivering and making these really sad sounds." 

He's not even teasing. Just being honest. 

"I'm sensitive," you say. 

"You're used to sleeping indoors like a normal person." 

You ease off of his lap. He doesn't want you to; he'd keep you close forever. Plus, he feels guilty cuddling you in front of Robin because he knows public displays are uncomfortable, so he wants to really take you in while he can. 

"I have something to tell you," you say. 

"Oh?" 

"Or, something to give you. But I can tell you something if that matters." 

"Tell me anything." Everything. He wants to know everything you have to say. 

"Well… well, before this happened…" You rummage through the bag you'd brought home with you, the tip of your tongue peaking out. "You know, before the world half ended, I wasn't– I don't know if I can say it." 

"Please?" he asks. 

You pull something into your hand. "Alright. I didn't think I'd ever fall in love. And then the world ended, and I really didn't think I would, but you found me and I love you, so it wasn't true." 

He thinks about it. You, years ago, when he'd see you in the halls at school or walking home. He doesn't have much recollection of you beyond that, but it aches in a weird way to think you'd been walking around feeling like you wouldn't be loved. 

Steve licks his lips. "I get it, because I kind of worried the same thing. Like I'd keep loving people more than they loved me." 

"And then you met Robin?" 

"Exactly. She taught me more about love as my best friend than any of the girlfriends I had." 

"Well, I didn't get a Robin back then, but I have you now, and I guess I want you to know it's important to me," you say. "I know things are so hard right now, I know," —you clear your throat as emotion creeps in to your tone— "you put on a brave face for me. I know you're tired. But I keep going for you, and you keep going for me, and I want you to have something so you remember that even if I'm… not around." 

Steve sits up straight. "Hey, you're not going anywhere." 

You blink rapidly.

"Where is it that you think you're going without me?" he asks, softer. 

"Nowhere. But I just need you to know how much I loved you." 

"Love," he corrects. 

"How much I love you," you agree, sniffling. You look around at the tent floor, your shoulders raised just so. "Sorry, I'm not gonna cry or anything, I just hate thinking about it." 

You hand him something wrapped in a new sock. He bites his lip to stop from laughing at the wrapping and unpeels his gift. 

It's a watch. Silver, heavy, glass unscathed and hands tick tick ticking. Steve doesn't know if the time is accurate. His old watch broke a long time ago, but this one looks vaguely similar. 

"You gave me a necklace, once, with a little diamond. I know I don't have it anymore, I shouldn't have taken it off. But you gave it to me when I was miserable, and I know you're not miserable, but–" 

"I am," he says, rubbing his thumb over the watch. There's a tiny diamond set at the bottom of the clock face. He has no idea why, but the idea that you saw it and remembered his gift that long ago, that you wanted him to know you love him, that pays for some truth. "I'm miserable. I'm so scared for us." He breathes out hard. "Sorry." 

Steve's eyes tear up. He tries not to let it show, but he's looking down at the watch and his vision is blurring, and he's thinking Fuck, fuck, I'm crying in front of her again. 

You shuffle across the plastic floor toward him and clutch his hand. He's shaking minutely. You must feel it.

"It's okay, baby," you murmur. 

He ducks his head. 

"It's okay. I know," you say. 

"I know that you know," he says. 

"But it's hard," you prompt. 

"Yeah." 

You needle your arm behind his neck and him close. He can't hold back anymore, throwing his arms around your waist because why would you say that stuff to him? You're so evil, you're horrible, you're the very best thing that's ever happened to him and he loves you and what if you do die? Nobody will ever, ever be like you. There's no one out there with your smile, nobody who turns at the sound of his voice as you do, happy before you've set eyes on him and ecstatic when you have. 

And if you live (please, God, if you live), Steve wants to give you a better life than this. He's constantly panicking because he doesn't know how. 

But you don't mind. You don't love him less for the situation. 

"I don't even know what to tell you," you say, stroking the hair at the back of his neck tenderly, "cos I tell you I love you so much it doesn't feel like what I mean. I love you. I love you, Steve." 

He hugs you until he's not crying, wishing his cheeks would dry themselves when he finally raises his head and kisses your cheek. "Thank you," he says roughly. 

Steve sits back and wipes his nose. You offer the sock. He laughs and bats it away. 

"I love you, too," he says. He thrusts his wrist at you. "Strap me in?" 

You fasten Steve's watch and, in what's becoming a theme, you kiss his pulse. 

"Sorry things have been so hard," you say, adjusting the watch until it's sat comfortably.

"You make it easier." 

"Guys!" Robin says, forcing her way into the tent with an exuberant smile on her face. There's something in her arms, a wriggling mass of matted fur. "Look! The cat followed us home! I'm gonna name him Stinkyboy! Or Shark. Get up, I need help catching a fish!" She waves the cat's paw at you both. "I knew he liked me!" 

—-

the Steve zombie au

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! IDK if you can do this, but how about a FNAF DLC platonic:

Ruined Eclipse (or Sun and Moon separated) with a creator! reader, something like a reunion parent-child, they recognize the reader because of an old guest record, the first one they ever had. As they were created by them

"I still can't believe you almost shutdown the entire MXES system..."

"Yeah, me neither. But who decided that the avatar should look like some...creepy rabbit? I was honestly more scared of that than anything."

".....I'd rather not talk about it. Let's just keep moving."

"Vanessa's right, we're getting close to the daycare." You chimed in, keeping a hopeful smile on your face as you shone the flashlight down the debris-ridden path.

Coming back to the ruined Pizzaplex was something you never even dreamed of doing. After helping Gregory, Vanessa, and Freddy (or at least what's left of him anyways) escape this awful place...you thought that the best thing to do was to implement an advanced security system.

One that ensured nothing, especially the machine you all called the "Mimic", could get out and wreck havoc.

Of course, you felt bad for leaving all the other animatronics behind, including Freddy's bandmates. You had plans to come back and retrieve them once Vanessa confirmed that the widespread system virus was cleared.

Then a mysterious earthquake struck and basically left the complex in ruins.

Fortunately the security system remained intact, as it was her idea to put all of it into the AR world where reality couldn't damage the nodes.

And for a while there were no problems...

Until they began shutting down one by one, and Vanessa discovered that a new user had been paired with the VANNI network thanks to the mask she left behind.

That user?

Gregory's friend: Cassie.

Somehow the Mimic managed to contact her and pretend to be him, instructing her to "save him" by turning off all the nodes. And it was interfering with all of your attempts to reach her.

Even worse?

MXES kept sending out alert signals to the animatronics--which is what it's programmed to do in order to keep anyone from touching the nodes..

But considering the horrible state the Glamrocks were in the last time you saw them, you were almost certain they're hunting Cassie like a pack of wolves, driven by anger rather than a glitch or security protocols.

Luckily you were able to access her walkie-talkie before she could shutdown the Entity itself and free the Mimic, explaining that Gregory was never there to begin with.

You, him, Vanessa, and Freddy eventually came to her rescue, taking a backup of MXES before escaping the pizzaplex for the last time.

Or...

At least you thought that would've been the last time you've ever seen that place.

Cassie recognized you as the creator of the Daycare Attendant and mentioned that he was active and....didn't try to harm her after she managed to reboot him.

That piqued your interest.

You didn't think he'd be functional still, let alone harmless towards her.

For a few days you kept thinking about it and how much you missed seeing that ray of sunshine/moonlight..

Next thing you knew, you were back here with your friends to seek him out. Gregory proposed finding a new body for Freddy--or at least batteries from the recharge stations to keep his head active.

Since you're already here, you might as well take a shortcut to Superstar Daycare.

"Can I ask you something about him, [y/n]?" Cassie spoke up.

"Sure."

"...was he meant to have some third mode? Because when I rebooted him, he didn't act too much like Sun...and he definitely wasn't acting 100% like Moon, either."

"....oh my gosh.." Stopping in your tracks, you stared at her with wide eyes. "You managed to put him into Eclipse mode??"

"I....guess..? Is that what he's called?"

"Yes! That was his default mode for his theater performances! I thought it was lost forever, but....wow." You laughed softly. "I have to see him now."

Eclipse was a name you thought you'd never hear again.

Originally, you had created him as a stage performer in the Pizzaplex's early days, developing his day-night cycle function as a neat little schtick for the children. He was meant to tell stories and switch between Sun and Moon to act out a thrilling "good vs evil" battle.

Alas his performances didn't get nearly as much attention as the Glamrocks, and you were sorta coerced into coming up with a new idea lest he was scrapped altogether.

You decided he'll become a daycare manager to help with the recent uptick of patrons accompanied by toddlers.

You led a small engineering team to help program him with new information, including a guest record that you tested out first, and he adjusted to his new role very well. He became popular even quicker than before.

The only issue during maintenance was the light-sensitivity switch couldn't be removed...not even by you. For whatever reason the DreadUnit didn't have that information on file.

You've tried everything in the book, even attempting to reverse-engineer how you made it originally. But you couldn't remove it without compromising Eclipse's entire system.

It's like it was somehow integrated permanently into his software, rather than being a physical mechanism you put in with a wrench and screws.

You knew for a fact you didn't design it that way.

One of the newbie engineers who doubted your skills tried fixing the problem themselves, taking Eclipse to parts & services without your permission.

Then there was a blackout, and they nearly got maimed to death after he abruptly switched into Moon and attacked them inside the "protective" cylinder.

The incident had been covered-up since, but you never did see Eclipse (or that coworker) ever again.

There was just Sun and Moon now, with neither half remembering anything related to their original form.

As painful as it was...you had to accept it, knowing that it would be too risky (and costly) to perform any further maintenance on that mechanic. You just continued overseeing his duties as daycare attendant.

But things kept going downhill from here.

You felt like your beloved creation had turned into a walking nightmare, considering the amount of complaints you've had over him making toddlers cry while they're getting picked up from the daycare.

It didn't help matter where the blackouts became more frequent in there, too, triggering Moon to come out often; management's solution was to shove a bunch of backup generators into the play areas and call it a day.

They didn't wanna waste a single dime more on any problems relating to the Attendant or his attraction, making it clear that you'd only repair him if he needed cleaning.

And they threatened you with termination if you mentioned anything about Eclipse to the guests or coworkers.

It was so unfair.

The incompetent engineer who only had two months of animatronic repair experience took your creation and broke him--being let off the hook with a mere slap on the wrist and all their medical expenses paid...

While you're stuck dealing with the consequences.

Neither Sun nor Moon blamed you for anything that happened, but you still felt like you failed them.

Like you failed Eclipse.

You eventually resigned, unable to deal with it anymore, although you still thought about him all the time and visited the Pizzaplex, hoping he was doing well.

Maybe he'd forget about you as he continued receiving an endless number of guest names to add to his database. He probably erased your name since you haven't been back in such a long time.

Perhaps..that was for the best.

Yet now you were here once again among the ruins of the mall, holding onto the tiniest bit of hope that he was still alive.

It seems you haven't fully let him go just yet.

..........

As the doors to the daycare eerily creaked open, you made the brave decision to go inside alone while the rest of the group kept a lookout for trouble.

Gregory and Freddy, of course, had their reasons not to enter that place. Neither of them knew for certain if the Attendant would remember them...and how Moon chased down the brunette at the end of every hour.

He'd rather not relive the horrors of trying to navigate through the darkness and turn on those stupid generators.

You looked all around, frowning at the ruined state of the daycare you helped build. But at the same time it filled you with such nostalgia.

It's a miracle anything was left standing at all.

"Hello? Eclipse?" Your voice echoed throughout the seemingly empty attraction.

A few seconds later, you got a response that made your heart swell with joy.

"Hello, friend! Welcome to Superstar Daycare!!"

In the blink of an eye, a familiar face floated down in front of you with a smile. You stepped back and took a moment to look over the animatronic, seeing he had parts of Sun and Moon blended together as one.

And somehow, he was able to stand despite only having one intact leg.

At first you had no idea what to say..

But no words had to be spoken, as Eclipse's petals clicked and shuffled as he leaned in closer. From his eyes came a holographic scanner that swept over you once, and once it vanished he stepped back, shocked.

"[Y/n]...my creator..?" He whispered. "You...have returned?"

You nodded, smiling as tears formed in your eyes. "It's me, Eclipse. I'm back."

You couldn't help opening your arms up to him, and he embraced you tightly in response, nearly crushing you. Although some of his endoskeleton components and loose wires poked your sides, you didn't care about that, being too overwhelmed with emotion to worry.

He was okay, and he didn't seem to hold any ill-will towards your abrupt resignation.

That's all that mattered right now.

"Oh it's so, so good to see you!! How have you been? Is your boss giving you a rough time? Am I due for maintenance??" He was rambling a mile a minute, and you just chuckled and shook your head, letting him go.

"No, you're just fine, buddy. But listen, there's..something you need to know-"

"Of course, of course! Could you just give me one moment? I'm almost done cleaning up this place!" He looked around anxiously. "We'll be open in an hour so I need to do one final sweep!"

"Eclipse-"

"I pinky swear it'll take only a second! And then-!"

"Eclipse. I command you to stay put and listen."

Before he could leap out of your sights, your firm tone of voice made him freeze and stare at you, completely unmoving.

Even you were stunned that he was still programmed to obey you, but at least it makes what you're about to tell him easier.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly clipping your flashlight to your belt before finally speaking. "Cleaning up the daycare is...no longer necessary."

He tilted his head like a curious cat, looking rather troubled. "No longer...necessary? Why? Did I do a bad job? I hope not...I-I was just...trapped in a long sleep!"

You nodded. "I know, but during that time...an earthquake hit the Pizzaplex, and now it's too dangerous for anyone to come visit."

"..huh, so we're closed...forever?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Eclipse.."

"I see..." Slowly, but surely, he was processing this news. Although he perked back up with a smile. "But it must be somewhat safe..since you came to visit me!"

"Cassie told me you were still here." Your smile returned, relieved he was taking it better than you initially expected. "I heard she helped you...and Sun and Moon when you needed it most."

"Cassie....? Cassie...ohhh, the little girl who made us whole again!!" His eyes flashed with recollection. "She was such a sweet kid! Is she alright? Is she safe?"

"She's safe, and she's just outside the daycare. Along with Vanessa and um...Gregory."

"........"

"L-Listen, I know you two had a bad history together.." You began, cautious as he just stared blankly at you. "But I promise he's not-"

"Who's Gregory? I don't recall his name being in my records.."

'Ah....so Eclipse doesn't know him. Thank god.'

"Oh! That's okay. He's a great kid, too. I'll have to introduce you to him." You extended your hand out. "Come with me. Let's get out of this place. He needs our help finding a new body for Freddy since his original one got destroyed by the STA--earthquake."

Internally you cursed yourself for that near-slip of the tongue, although Eclipse didn't notice at all and joyfully took your hand, eager to help a kid in need.

He let you lead him out of the daycare like a parent and their child, never letting your hand go even for a moment. But you weren't complaining.

In a way, you were his parent.

You did create him, after all.

And now you've finally reunited with him.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf ruin x reader #ruin x reader #fnaf eclipse #fnaf daycare attendant #platonic #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf sb x reader

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not The Same Without You – Steve Harrington

Being Steve Harrington's childhood best friend is not easy. You've got Tommy and Carol, Steve's team, and the rest of the school against you. Everyone thinks he's crazy for hanging out with me.

Something you should know about me - I'm your stereotypical bookworm. I never go to school without at least two books in my bag in case I finish the first one. I choose to spend my lunch period and free period in the library reading. I am on a first-name basis with the librarian at our school and at the library down the street from my house.

No one understood why Steve would hang out with someone like me. And if I was being honest, I didn't understand it either.

It made more sense when we got to high school. He stopped talking to me when we started freshman year. I didn't mind. I was starting not to like all the attention our friendship got. I got tired of the sneer comments, the scoffs, and the glares. We had this big talk the weekend before we started freshman year.

~•~

"Y/N?" Steve said, sounding strange. "Can we talk about something? Something that I'm pretty sure is going to make you hate me?"

"Nothing could make me hate you, Steve," I said honestly. "What's up?"

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "we start high school on Monday."

"That's true," I said when he paused.

"And I'm on the basketball team," he continued slowly. "The team and all the practices and the games are going to take up a lot of my time."

"Steve?" I pushed. "What are you trying to say?"

"Maybe it's better if we don't hang out in high school," he blurted out. My heart jumped into my throat as I stared at him. I could barely see it, but there was a little bit of guilt in his eyes.

"Is that what you want?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth, struggling to answer me. I studied his eyes, trying to see if this was what he really wanted.

"Yes," he said, his voice dropping.

"Okay," I said as I stood up and started slipping on my shoes.

"Okay?" Steve stuttered. "You're really. . . You're okay with this?"

"Not really," I shrugged, not facing him. "But if it's what you want. . ."

I gasped when Steve grabbed my wrist and spun me toward him. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I just. . . I was. . . I thought. . . I'm sorry."

"I understand," I said, my voice dropping. "At least, I can pretend to."

~•~

When my parents found out that I was no longer hanging out with Steve, they tried to hide how relieved they were. My parents have never really liked Steve. They were always worried that his bad habits would rub off on me.

So, for the last three years, I've gone through high school alone - not that I minded. I was fine by myself. I've always been fine with it. Steve was the first person who tried to enter my life and I let him.

Six months into our senior year, my insomnia got really bad. AP exams were only a few weeks away and the stress made my insomnia worse. I slipped on a light jacket and headed downstairs. I walked out to our backyard and started walking along the path that went behind our house to a nearby park.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself, Y/N," came a familiar voice. "It's dangerous."

"Steve?" I said, my eyes adjusting to the flashlight he had shining on me. "What are you doing here? It's 2 am."

"I knew you'd be up," he tried to say lightheartedly.

"And you walked all the way over here?"

"No," he said with a small laugh. "I drove to your house but saw you sneak out the back. Insomnia keeping you up?"

"Yeah," I said slowly. "It always does. That's nothing new."

"I know," he said. "Is there nothing you can do to help with it?"

"Steve, what are you doing here?" I asked instead of answering him.

"I used to come over like this all the time," he shrugged.

"True," I said, "but that was almost four years ago. We haven't talked since then. Be honest, Steve. What is going on?"

"Come with me."

"What? Steve, you can't be serious. It's two in the morning and. . ."

"Please," he cut me off. His tone made me freeze. "Y/N, I really need. . . I just. . . I need to get out of here and I want you to come with me. Just for a little while. Please, Y/N. Please come with me. I promise to get you home before your parents wake up."

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice softening as I took a step closer to Steve.

I hadn't noticed that I was rubbing my arms until Steve took off his jacket and draped it over me. I held my breath as he started to pull his hands back. He hesitated for a second, like he was going to grab my hand, but decided against it at the last minute.

"Please, Y/N," he whispered. "I need you to come with me. I just. . . I need you."

One look at his eyes and I knew this was serious.

"Where to, Harrington?"

* * * * *

As we drove to only Steve knew where, he didn't say anything. The radio softly played as we drove through town. I kept glancing at him, wishing he'd say something.

After four years of silence, Steve randomly showing up outside my house at 2 in the morning was weird. Not to mention the fact that he was taking me somewhere and hadn't said anything since we got in the car.

"Steve," I whispered, "can you please tell me where we're going? I'm. . . I'm starting to get a little nervous."

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know this is strange but. . . I can't really explain it. I've been struggling lately and I was trying to figure out what to do. The only thing I could think of was you. I needed to see you, Y/N. I know you don't owe me anything but. . ."

"It's okay," I gently cut him off. "I just want to know where we're going."

Steve looked over at me and sent me the Harrington Smile that has all the girls in our school falling head over heels for him.

"Somewhere we haven't been in a long time."

It wasn't for another ten minutes that I realized where we were. When I figured it out, I glanced over at Steve. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy when I saw his smirk.

"I haven't been here since. . ." I couldn't remember the last time I was here.

There is a spot in this mountain called Makeout Point that all the teenagers know about. Steve and I found this spot on the other side of the mountain and it's always been our spot. Steve parked the car and we instantly walked over to the nearby picnic bench. We sat on the bench with our backs to the table.

I glanced over at him and, as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, I saw the weight pushing him down.

"Steve?" I whispered. "Please tell me what's going on."

He opened and closed his mouth, unable to admit it. When nothing came out, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Y/N," he tried to start. "The thing is. . . I'm not sure why. . . It's hard to explain. . ."

I looked down to see Steve move his hands so they were now on the bench. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached over and gently put my hand over his.

"Please, try," I said under my breath.

"I miss you," he rushed out. He looked up at me, surprise in his eyes.

"You. . ."

"I miss you, Y/N," he said, sounding more confident. "And I am so sorry. I'm sorry I left you and acted like I didn't know you once we started high school. I shouldn't have made you go through it alone. I should've been with you. I should've walked you to class on your first day and every day after. I should've sat with you in the library every lunch and free period. I should've been a better friend to you, Y/N, and I'm really sorry."

"Steve," I stuttered.

"I hate that I walked away from you," he continued. "I hate that I turned my back on you and never turned back. I wish, more than anything in the world, that I could do something to make it right. Can I? Can I fix what I did, Y/N? Can I fix this? Can I do something to make things go back to what they were before? Tell me how I can make it up to you. I'll do anything, Y/N."

"I don't know," I stuttered, my voice soft. "I mean. . . Senior year is almost over. And then who knows what we're going to do after but. . ."

Steve leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. Neither one of us deepened the kiss, but neither one of us broke it either. When we finally broke the kiss, my head was swimming. Steve was smiling softly at me.

"The past couple of years without you," he whispered, his face inches away from mine, "have been the worst years of my life. Every day, I wake up wishing I hadn't suggested we stop hanging out. Every day, I sit in class and try to figure out what I could say or do to fix what I screwed up. I can't live without you, Y/N. The truth is, I don't want to live without you. Not another day."

As he was talking, Steve scooted closer to me. When he finished, he reached up and gently cupped my cheek in his hand and pulled me closer.

"Not another day," he repeated as he pressed his lips to mine. This kiss was deeper than our first. When we broke this one, Steve leaned his forehead against mine.

"Y/N. . ."

"Steve," I cut him off. "This isn't. . . I just. . . This isn't as easy as you're making it sound."

"I know," he said instantly. "I know it's not going to be easy. But I'm willing to do the work. I mean it, Y/N. I will do anything and everything to make it up to you. Anything you want, anything you ask, I'll do it. I haven't been the same without you, Y/N. I need you in my life. Please don't let me go another day without you."

"I don't want to go another day without you," I whispered.

Steve, overcome with happiness, grabbed my hips and pulled me onto his lap. I gasped as he put his hand on the back of my neck and pressed my lips to his. I moaned as our lips moved messily in sync.

"Say it again," he moaned as he broke the kiss. I leaned back and gently held Steve's face in my hands.

"I don't want to go another day without you, Steve Harrington," I said, watching the lust build in his eyes. "So, please, don't let me go another day without you."

"You never have to go another day without me."

He was about to kiss me again, but I put my hands on his chest, stopping him.

"Steve," I whispered.

"What's wrong, baby?" He said softly.

"You promised to get me back before my parents woke up."

"Right," he chuckled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering. "Let's get you home."

I got off his lap and he instantly grabbed my hand, walking me back to his car. The entire drive back into town, my thoughts on the events of tonight.

We pulled up to my house and instantly looked at each other. Steve leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled as I moved our lips against his. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Not another day," he whispered.

"Nope," I giggled. "Not another day."

Steve kissed me again before finally letting me get out of his car. I quietly slipped back into my room without my parents noticing. As I lay in bed and tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach, I had one more thought.

My parents weren't going to be too thrilled about this.

#steve harringotn #steve harrington fluff #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joe keery #stranger things

[booklove22]

Ahhhhhhhhh I finally got to watch! I’m just…

WHAT IS THIS FANFICTION???

1) Ace, as suspected, looks very hot in scrubs

2) Bess “parent trapping” Nancy and Ace. Angry Ace telling Nancy that it wasn’t fair to lose their friendship over an almost kiss.

3) Nancy telling literally anyone who will listen that she’s in love with Ace and has been basically non-functioning for the past 5 weeks “I’ve feel like I’ve lost my true north.”

4) Nick telling Nancy how messed up Ace has been and how she “shattered his barometer”

5) Ace getting arrested for the missing bodies and Nancy blaming herself for not solving the case faster

6) Nancy writing Ace’s name on the paper in the bottle to reunite lost lovers/souls mates.

7) The bottle breaking when they almost kissed again (Nancy my god you have no self control!)

8) Ace finding the note with his name later and presumably running god knows how many miles to Icarus Hall, showing up sweaty and panting, and being like “You lied. You have feelings for me.” Right after the lights go out obviously because this episode was FAN FICTION.

9) Them almost kissing again (Jesus Nancy!) but Nancy’s flashlight cracks “we can’t do this” WHY NOT?” “Because you’re cursed.”

#nace #nancy drew #cw nancy drew #nancy x ace #ace [redacted]

[goldustwomun]

feel again (e.m.)

pairing: eddie munson x best friend! fwb! reader

summary: sleeping with your best friend was never a good idea, and though he’s confessed his feelings to you, they were feelings he felt for an entirely different girl.

warnings: a shit ton of angst, of swearing, lots of hurt but yanno what follows hurt! comfort! fluff! resolution! i had to adapt the season’s events for my plot and tbfh, i’m worried it’s a little slow in the build-up and i can’t write action to save my life -- but i think the ending makes it worth it!!!

wc: 6.1k+

note: i’m in tears! i can’t believe its done, i wrote a fic! a series! i’ll admit, not sure if it’s my best writing but i can genuinely say i had so much fun writing it; i have people asking me about eddie and whether he’ll end up alright and honestly, everyone’s love and support has kept me going when i was about ready to give up and call it a day, so please, please, enjoy! reblog! leave a comment! i love you all <3

read part one - part two

Eddie had been missing for two days, and you were starting to lose it.

What a fucking jerk. To have sought you out that night at the party, showered you in kisses and apologises and conveniently left out the fact that he was on the run from the police and Chrissy was–

You couldn’t think about her. That burning in your throat, the bitter taste of bile, intensified when you thought about her. Hadn’t it been just last week when you’d imagined, or rather fantasised, of her hurting? It was an irrational, intrusive thought – one you were sure you hadn’t actually meant to come true. 

But you were unbelievably petty and emotional and so fucking lonely without your best friend, and she was a living, breathing, annoyingly cheerful reminder of everything you no longer had. 

Was. 

Because now she’s gone. And as much as you hated her guts only days earlier, you couldn’t help but wallow in the sorrow you felt now, knowing the gruesome end she had met. 

She was gone, sure, but so was Eddie. He hadn’t reached out to you since the bathroom incident, when Nancy had found you frozen to the spot an hour later. She was speaking to you, words muffled and unintelligible against the ringing in your ears.

You remember odd bits and pieces, like a puzzle missing some of its pieces – Chrissy. Dead. Trailer. Eddie.

You’d come to when you heard his name, brows furrowed in worry and confusion as she explained what everyone in town was now talking about, what everyone now believed about Eddie.

Eddie Munson had corrupted Chrissy – made her a satan-loving, drug addict, just like him. He lured her back to his trailer, a quiet, almost desolate part of town, where he brutally murdered her. 

It was all a fucking lie, you knew it. 

There was something else going on here, but the devastation you felt, a never-ending cycle of fear and concern, had you bedridden since you’d found out. Your parents had hounded the police to station officers at your house, convinced Eddie would try to get in contact. 

They worried you’d meet the same fate, and no matter how much you argued that it was all bullshit, they’d confined you to your room, no visitors allowed – not even Nancy, Steve and Robin.

That didn’t stop them from sneaking in, though. Hawkin’s finest weren’t actually all that great, and come 9 o’clock, the two officers stationed outside would be snoring so loud from their ‘tactically’ placed police cars that your friends would easily climb up the side of your house where you’d greet them through the window.

You told them they could use the front door, your parents weren’t home and not even a pack of demadogs could wake the two snoozing officers. But it was ‘about the principal’ as Steve put it. 

So every night since, you’d leave your window open for them to update you on what they’d learned, and most importantly, whether anyone had found Eddie. 

“We found him!” you heard Robin call from outside your window. 

You wasted no time, shoving your feet into your sneakers, grabbing your flashlight and a pocket knife because the town was really taking paranoid to a whole new level since Eddie had been accused of murder and reported missing. 

You shimmied down the drainpipe, landing with a hard thud on the ground. Pain shot up your calves but you ignored it, instead focusing your attention on your friends in front of you. 

“And?” you prompted impatiently, unable to stand still and wishing to whatever God or all-powerful being watching you now that Eddie was fine, that he hadn’t been found or met the same fucked-up end as Chrissy. 

“Well, Max said she saw him running from his trailer, th– that night. It was suspicious because he looked afraid and why would a murderer run like a little girl from their intended murdered victim. And then Steve and I, well it was a fluke, really, can’t believe we caught it–”

“Robin! Get to the point, where is he?” 

“Right, right. Reefer Rick’s place. It’s abandoned, he’s in jail, I think. On Lover’s Lake,” she managed to explain eventually. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at them, felt that sting of regret after scolding Robin, but they didn’t know about the guilt coursing through your veins every day since he’d disappeared. 

It was your fault, and no matter what anyone said, your mind couldn’t explain the thoughts away. You had pushed him into Chrissy’s arms. And when she died, he’d wasted precious time – time he could have spent getting away – to find you.

So you excused your temper, promising yourself to apologise to Robin later. “Okay, then what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” you announced, taking all of one step before Steve stepped into your path, stopping you from walking to his car. 

“About that…” he trailed off. He looked afraid, like he was certain you’d start swinging any moment. “You’re not coming.” He was right to look afraid, you decided. 

“Move, Steve,” you insisted, attempting to push past him but he held his grown, all crossed arms and stern stare. The others mimicked his stance, and you knew they were in agreement. 

“Why?” was all you asked. 

“Because last time something like this happened, you almost didn’t make it,” Nancy interjected before anyone else could speak. She was the only person you trusted as much as you had Eddie, having known her since the two of you were in diapers. 

While you weren’t a ‘trouble’ child per se, it had always been Nancy’s voice of reason that had prevented you from getting caught countless times. 

And it was Nancy you had blatantly ignored when you’d jumped in front of the Mind Flayer to save Max. 

You’d never spoken about it with her since then, having brushed it under a carpet in your mind, locked the door and tossed the key. You didn’t like thinking about what would have happened if Billy hadn’t intervened, but it was instinct and you didn’t regret any of it. You couldn’t. 

“Well that’s not an excuse, Eleven’s always throwing herself in front of the–”

“She has super powers! Don’t be stupid! You don’t!” Nance scolded, pushing in front of Steve to speak directly to you, face to face where you couldn’t hide. “We can’t let you come, not this time. We all discussed it and you’re just too much of a liability. The cops are still watching you, the whole town is because–”

“What? Because they know I was fucking the freak they’re hunting?” you stated crudely, eyes glued to the floor. Your head was shouting at you to shut up but your heart was aching too much to care. You felt that surge of senseless anger and, unfortunately for your friends, they were the only ones around to aim it at. 

“You’re all acting like you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself for anyone else here. You’ve all done it countless times. Fended off the Demogorgon, Demadogs, the Mind Flayer – how is this any different?”

“Because you love him, sweets. You love Eddie so much that we’re afraid you’ll give up everything for him.” Robin’s words did little to soothe you, and though you knew she was right (they all were, really), you couldn’t be stopped. 

“If you don’t let me go, I’ll wake up those cops and send them straight to him. To Lover’s Lake.”

Silence. 

You were as shocked as they were, mouth agape at what you had just threatened. But you needed it to work because if you didn’t see Eddie soon, scold him a little for acting like such a fucking idiot, then have him explain what actually happened – fuck, you were driving yourself crazy. 

“You wouldn’t do that,” Nancy called you out, not taking the bait. She could see through your facade, like a cat scrambling for safety in a pool too big, biting, scratching its way out – anything to escape the dread creeping in. “We’re going, you're staying.”

You watched them leave, gaze unforgiving. 

It was only when they backed out of your driveway that you collapsed, sobs clawing their way out of your mouth as you held yourself tight, squeezing once, twice, three times like Eddie would. 

The legs of your jeans were caked in dirt but all you could focus on was the fact that they were right, if you went, if Eddie was in any kind of danger, you’d throw yourself in, head first, to save him. You’d jump in front of whatever it was that had murdered Chrissy, would let yourself meet the same fate in under a heartbeat if it meant Eddie would be alright. 

If this was what love felt like, you thought, you didn’t want it. 

Radio silence for three days. 

You felt like a patient under quarantine, what with the limited access to the outside world you had. For three days, you sat by your window, all day and late into the night, waiting for someone to tap on the glass and tell you everything was alright. 

Anytime a branch brushed against the side of the house, or the wind was just a little too loud, your head snapped towards the window, expecting to see someone, anyone, Eddie, perched on the ledge. 

But for the past three days, you waited, waited, waited, and no one ever came.

It was entirely your own fault, you could admit that. Your dwindling emotional stability did nothing to assure your friends that you were fine, could be trusted to find Eddie and figure out what had happened that night in his trailer. 

Your parents tried to pry you from your room, knocking politely (something they never did before) on your door every house, asking if you wanted a scoop of your favourite ice cream, or to watch a movie downstairs. 

But you couldn’t look them in the eye knowing they believed what everyone was saying. You’d spent the first few days locked inside trying to convince them, but eventually even that seemed futile. 

You’d never felt this completely, utterly, helpless. Your world was falling apart around you and because of your paranoid parents, a prejudice town, and two idiotic police officers watching your every move, you could do nothing to stop it. Just stand and watch as slowly but surely, everything and everyone you loved dropped like flies around you.

It happened on the fourth day. 

You’d been granted permission to go on a walk, finally going stir-crazy and your Mum was desperate to clean your room after you’d been holed up in there. The cop car followed a few feet behind, never letting you get too far ahead. 

The streets were eerily empty, though. It was a pleasant day outside and you’d expected the pavement to be filled with kids on their bikes or doodling on the concrete with chalk. Yet there it was, deserted. Even the constant chirp of birds had disappeared, so you slipped on your headphones and walked alone. 

You didn’t realise something was happening at first, too preoccupied with calculating how fast you’d have to run to lose the two imbeciles following you. 

But then you looked up and the blue of the sky had been replaced by swirling black ash that suffocated the midday light.

You stopped. Music blaring even as you pushed your headphones off. People rushed outside, startled by the sudden disappearance of the sun. They looked up at the darkness, panic erupting amongst families and children. In the distance, you could see where the smoke came from – a black column of spiralling ash that emptied into the sky, coating the world in shadow. 

This time, you didn’t bother to calculate, you just ran. 

Behind you, you heard the screeching voices of the officers, commanding you to stop. Ignoring them was about as easy as breathing as you ran faster, sneakers pounding against the pavement. You were the odd one out, running towards the danger, unlike everyone else who tripped over themselves to get as far away from it as possible. 

You didn’t know what exactly it was you were running to, figured you’d know it when you saw it.

And Jesus Christ, were you right. 

The ground had split open, fire erupting from the gaping cavern that had been made, like someone had carved a knife into the Earth and crushed everything in its path. That pesky thought that had been tapping against your skull for the past few days, the one that warned you this might all be Upside Down related, it returned, only pounding, screaming, smashing, not tapping. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered for no one to hear, taking a few cautious steps forward to peek into the encroaching flames. They raged and flared, barking at you like a watchdog sensing danger. And though your head told you to run the other way, go home, check on your parents, call Nancy’s house, or Steve’s, do anything but continue on the road you were on, a road you weren’t sure had a very pleasant ending. 

But you couldn’t do that, not when your friends, your best friends, your family, were out there, somewhere. Probably in the eye of this flaming storm and fighting off some sort of monster not even your nightmares could conjure up. 

So you ignored your mind, the pounding, screaming, smashing against your skull. You ignored the rational thoughts still pleading relentlessly with you, and started running again.

Something told you that if this all started with Eddie, in his trailer, that was where it would end. 

It took longer than you expected due to the obvious obstacle of a 10-foot wall of flames, but you made it in the end. Despite the chaos of the town, the trailer park looked mostly the same. Dead leaves crunched under your feet, each step leaving your heart racing that much more than it already was.

Nancy was right to have been mad when you’d thrown yourself in front of the Mind Flayer. And as unfeeling and unafraid as you tried to act around your friends, the churning in your stomach said otherwise. 

You were terrified. 

Not for whatever was waiting for you on the other side of wherever it was you thought you were going. Or even the perpetual question of ‘were they alive?’. For once, you weren’t even afraid for Eddie, not in that moment, anyway.

No, you were terrified for entirely selfish reasons. Because the last time you’d done this, you’d almost died, and the thought of leaving your parents, your friends, Hawkins, behind, without a proper goodbye and tampered death certificate – it didn’t seem right.

But you persisted, you had to. 

Screw fear and its ability to control you in times of need. Screw the Upside Down and its seemingly never ending supply of monsters it kept throwing at you and your friends. Screw Eddie Munson for not loving you when you needed him. And screw the whole fucking world, galaxy, universe, for messing with you, time and time again. 

You wouldn’t let it mess up this storyline, though, you deserved more than that. 

Wrenching Eddie’s trailer door open, you peered inside, eyes darting to the make-shift rope dangling from a hole in the ceiling – a hole in the universe? You stepped towards it, craning your head to get a better look at what looked like a reflection of the room you were in, only bathed in darkness and decay. 

With a steadying breath, you looked around, looking for anything that could be turned into a weapon. It was only when you were rummaging through Eddie’s room that you found a possibility. You’d hidden your favourite lighter in a shoebox under his bed, away from your parent’s prying eyes. In his grimy bathroom, you found rubbing alcohol in the first aid kit, and behind his bedroom door, a stick (Eddie liked to pretend it was a staff for D&D campaigns) large enough to be turned into a torch, 

Soaking the end with the clear liquid, you held it under your arm as you stared at the descending piece of cloth. You knew if you thought about it too much, you’d never be able to make it up, so you took a few steps back, and ran towards it, jumping at the last second and hoisting yourself through the hole. 

You landed in a tangled heap on a deflated mattress, groaning as your shoulder took the brunt of the fall. On shaking legs, you rolled off the ground, rushing to the window to look for any sign of your friends. 

It didn’t take long. His short frame was hobbling towards a swarm of something, chasing after a fleeing figure. 

Dustin. 

You ran outside, catching up with him in no time. It was only when you got closer that you heard it. Even over the roaring in your ears, you could hear him sobbing. “Dustin– hey! Dustin! Wait!” you called out, sighing in relief as he turned towards your voice. He was shaking worse than you, covered in dirt, sweat, and someone’s blood. 

“Are you hurt? Hey, hey, hey, what happened? Where are the others?”

He couldn’t get the words out, and you grew antsier by the second. “Dustin, please, tell me,” you pleaded, hugging him tight and praying he’d calm down soon enough to speak to you. 

The urgency in your voice must have done it because the moment you pulled him in, he stuttered out a name you didn’t want to hear, not here. “E–Eddie. It’s Eddie. He went–” he pointed towards the moving black cloud. 

You didn’t wait to hear the rest of his sentence, already sprinting down the familiar street, using screeches of what could have been bats as a beacon to follow. You were panting, hard and fast, when you saw him. Completely surrounded, flailing a makeshift sword and shield at the flapping beasts. 

“Eddie!” you shouted, but he couldn’t hear you. So you took out your lighter, wrapped in neon pink tape so you wouldn’t confuse it with Eddies, and lit the end of the staff-slash-stick. 

Then you ran to him. 

You’d always run to him. 

You woke up in bed, at home, convinced you’d hallucinated the whole thing. Hawkins erupting into flames, climbing through the trailer ceiling, a distraught Dustin, Eddie fighting for his life… you remember all of it, like a project playing it on loop in your mind.

But you were in the warm embrace of your sheets, new clothes on your body, clean hair fanned around you on the pillow. How could you have been in the Upside Down one moment, and back in Hawkins the next? 

Your body protested as you stumbled out of bed, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers as you padded down the stairs, searching for someone to explain what the hell had happened. The house was empty, and when you walked past the windows facing the front yard, even the police car wasn’t there. 

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice when the phone rang. Your stiff muscles groaned as you scrambled towards the ringing, picking it up immediately. “Hello?” you questioned into the static. 

“You’re awake! Guys, she’s awake!” Dustin. He didn’t sound upset anymore, rather, he sounded brighter, more cheery than you’d heard him in weeks. 

“Dustin – what happened?” Already disoriented by the conversation as a dull throbbing in your head alerted you to an oncoming headache. 

“Don’t worry about–”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m going to reach through this phone and give you the most unbelievable–”

“Okay! Okay! What I was going to say before you threatened me–” you snorted into the receiver, “--was that we’re coming over, all of us, and we’ll explain everything in person.

You nodded and it took you a few seconds to realise he couldn’t see you. “Okay. Okay. Sounds good.” 

You paused, voice hesitating as you asked yourself whether you wanted the answer to the question you were about to ask. “And– Uhm– Eddie? Is he– Is he–?”

“He’s fine,” he assured you. “Pretty beaten up but you made sure it didn’t get too bad. He’s in the hospital still, was acquitted of all charges while you were asleep – God, you sleep a lot, don’t ya?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you scolded, but the bite wasn’t there as you laughed at Dustin’s crazy antics. You hadn’t smiled, let alone laughed, in over a week, but it seemed fitting that Dustin – probably the only other person that cared for Eddie as much as you did – would be the one to pry one out of you. 

“I’ll see you all soon.” You hung up, wobbling up the stairs to change, eager for fog in your mind to be lifted. 

“So, that’s it,” Nancy finished, leaning back in the arm chair. Everyone was sat in your living room, huddled on the sofa or the carpet with discarded napkins and half-eaten pizza crusts littering the table. 

“Huh. That’s it,” you agreed, chewing thoughtfully at the slice of pizza in your hand. “Well shit,” was all you managed in the end, not knowing what words could truly encompass or resolve the events of the past few days. 

“Yeah, and apparently Victor Creel confessed to the murders. Not sure how or why–” Robin stared pointedly at Nancy who simply shrugged and leaned into Jonathan’s embrace, “-- so the whole town is sort of backtracking on calling Eddie a murderer.”

“They do still think he’s a bit of a freak, but anything is better than murderer,” Steve added as an afterthought. You couldn’t help but agree. No one could be arrested for being a freak, so you were grateful for the (albeit, reluctant) change of heart. 

“So when does he come home? I mean– when can he leave the hospital?” You didn’t know where he would stay. Definitely not with you, your parents would throw a fit, but he sure as hell couldn’t go back to the trailer. 

“I think Wayne got a new place– a new trailer? I don’t know, so probably back with him.” 

Nancy was staring at you again, the worry unobscured and evident in her gaze. You looked anywhere but at her, instead nodding along to what everyone was saying. She’d said he was asking for you everyday she’d gone to visit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see him, not yet.

You were afraid of what he’d say. It felt like years ago, though you think it was only a few weeks earlier, when he’d confessed his feelings for you, cornered in Steve’s upstairs bathroom. But that was then, and he’d almost died in the meantime, so you weren’t sure if those feelings remained. Were too afraid to find out if they had. 

So, yes, you were actively avoiding someone who was literally incapacitated in the hospital. You weren’t proud of it, but you’d do anything to delay whatever end was headed your way. In your head, you thought back to that night, pressed up against Eddie with his lips whispering all the things you’d dreamt of hearing. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel the ghost of his breath against your skin, against your neck, against your– 

If you confronted him, those dreams and fantasies would cease to exist. You weren’t ready for that, weren’t sure if you ever would be. 

Eddie came home on an ordinary Sunday afternoon. 

He’d been in the hospital under strict observation for almost two weeks. The inexplicable bites and missing chunks of flesh all along his torso had left the doctors perplexed by what he’d actually been through, but after blaming everything on a wild bear (you weren’t even sure there were any in Hawkins), he was finally given the okay to be discharged. 

It was an ordinary Sunday afternoon, but it was also his birthday. The big ‘two-oh’ as Steve had called it while he hung streamers and fairy lights in Wayne’s new kitchen. It was a very modest one bedroom, not necessarily in the best neighbourhood, but it offered enough stability for Eddie while some of his wounds still healed. 

You didn’t know what he planned to do after high school, knew he still needed to boost a few of his grades in order to graduate, but you didn’t doubt his ability to do so. 

Where he planned to go, what he planned to do in the future – it was all a mystery to you. You’d heard back from all of your top choices, never having really worried about college or university, any of it, so you knew you could go anywhere, do anything. And while you were grateful for your parents and the opportunity presented before you, you still wondered if you’d be doing it all alone. 

The gang was crouched behind the chairs and table when Wayne stepped through, a battered but smiling Eddie on crutches following close behind. Everyone shouted ‘Surprise!’ and he beamed at all of the faces gathered in his honour. It only took a few seconds before his eyes landed on you, and you flushed under the intensity of his gaze. 

But it was his day, and you weren’t about to ruin it because of how that pesky heart of yours ached at the sight of him. Instead, you offered him what you hoped was a sincere smile, and blew the party horn perched between your lips. 

“You guys,” he cooed at everyone, hopping on his crutches to Steve who he hugged, whispering something in his ears that hid him cackling. Dustin pulled a chair out for him, and he sat in front of his cake, admiring the wonky letters scrawled in pink and green icing. 

Happy Birthday Munson, it read. 

“Happy birthday, Eddie,” Robin called out, bringing a knife over and setting out the paper plates. No one awkwardly sang to him, Wayne had warned that Eddie hated ‘Happy Birthday’ and would probably drag himself across the floor to escape the traditional tune. It seemed like an appropriately dramatic, entirely Eddie threat to make so you’d all obliged happily. 

“How you feeling, Eds,” Lucas asked around a mouthful of cake as he sat across from him on the table. 

“Oh, I’m much better than before. Got a few scars, need some help with the ointment, by the way, in case anyone wants to volunteer, and this ankle of mine has to stay off the floor for another week. But hey– I’m not dead and I’m not going to jail so I call that a win,” he pointed out, raising a spoonful of cake into the air as a toast.

Everyone copied his movements, hollering and cheering before the scattered conversations and arguments continued, drowning out the seriousness that had lingered for a moment. 

You were perched on the kitchen counter, struggling to lift your head enough to meet Eddie’s stare that you could feel burning holes into your head. It took a quick mental pep talk and a grounding pinch to your thigh before you finally looked up, eyes immediately locking with his. 

You knew what he wanted immediately as he nodded towards the door that led to his bedroom. You’d managed to salvage some of his things from the trailer but had otherwise been rummaging through thrift stores in town to fill it with anything that could make the room feel like him for Eddie. 

It meant you were forced to spend a lot more time with Wayne, who you had come to realise was more of a Father figure than Uncle to Eddie. The two of you had talked about him for hours while he was still in the hospital, and he’d driven the furniture for his room from the shops back to his house once you’d managed to snag yourself a deal. 

You shook your head at Eddie, mouthing ‘later’. You knew it would be a long and undeniably difficult conversation. And for now, you just wanted him to enjoy the company of his friends, and the cake you’d baked with El and Max earlier that morning. 

He glared at you teasingly before he was pulled into a heated debate between Mike and Will on who the superior member of the Fellowship of the Ring truly was. You didn’t need to pay attention to know his answer. Sam. He’d explained it to you countless times before. 

Sam, because he was the hero no one expected. 

And looking at him now, bandaged and scarred but grinning all the same, you couldn’t help but think he looked a lot like a hero as well. 

It was close to midnight when everyone finally made their way out. Steve offered to drive the (his?) kids home, while Nancy, Robin and Jon left in Nancy’s car, going on about a new conspiracy theory they wanted to run by Murray. 

Wayne had left two hours earlier for his night shift, and so you were left collecting the garbage off of the tables and the floor, Eddie watching you, quiet and intent. 

“Want to sit in my room?” he asked eventually as you washed your hand. You turned to face him, nodding but not saying anything. You weren’t entirely sure where this conversation was headed, so you opted to stay quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing and spook him into leaving you again. 

Eddie limped into his room, collapsing back into his bed that was tucked neatly into the corner of the room against the wall. You’d found a cassette player that was in pretty good condition, had organised his own tapes according to genre, and had spent a whole day taping posters to the wall. He took in your handiwork as you shut the door behind you, joining him on the bed.

This was the closest you’d been in weeks, sat next to each other, arms and knees pressed close. But he felt out of reach, emotionally distant in a way he hadn’t been before. You were dreading this, already convinced you’d be running out in tears very soon.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. Your head snapped to him, bewildered by the confession.

“What?” you asked dumbly, not quite believing the words he was saying. 

“I said, I’m sorry,” he repeated, looking at you now with those doe-eyes of his. You fought the urge to soothe the creases of his frown lines, to kiss the worries away. 

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I don’t know. Everything? For Chrissy, the party, how you had to run in and rescue me – you could’ve died.” His words were horse, choked up with the sheer amount of emotion coursing through him. “I won’t ever be able to properly apologise, I don’t think there are words for it, but you have to know – I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, Eddie,” you were shaking your head at him, and he looked so utterly defeated.

“No– please, I have to– I’m–”

“Eddie--” you interrupted before he could dig himself any deeper into that hole of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you fucking moron! And even if you did, even if, in some screwed up sense of logic, you were by any means at fault, so am I.”

You weren’t sure if you meant to berate him like you were, but you couldn’t listen to him ramble on any longer – it made it all so much harder. “I pushed you away when I shouldn’t have. Even if you didn’t feel the same and our relationship had become a messy, tangled heap of– fuck, I don’t know. But you were my best friend, you are my best friend.” 

It was your turn to talk yourself into the ground as you spoke with no end in sight. All of the pent up emotions of the past few weeks were finally ready to burst out of you, and poor, still recovering Eddie was about to face the brunt of it. 

“And then you showed up at Steve’s and I thought I was going to fucking combust or something, because you said exactly what I wanted to hear and I would have given you everything, Eddie. Everything. But then you were gone and no one would let me help and I felt so useless because there you were, running for your life, and I was sleeping the days away. 

So when I thought I could do something, anything, I came after you and then I woke up and you were in the hospital and I just– I couldn’t– It was too much– You were–” You stumbled over your words as every worry, anxiety, ill feeling rushed at you, all at once.

Eddie couldn’t just sit and watch you fall to pieces in front of him, no. So he shut you up the only way he knew how. His hand slid easily across your cheek, and your babbled words came to an abrupt halt as his mouth covered yours in the most agonising kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Agonising because so much had happened and so much would happen and as much as the uncertainty scared you shitless, the heat blazing between the two of you had you feeling safe – safer than you had felt in ages. 

Your chest splintered, cracked, then shattered open. You could do nothing but give in as you disintegrated into his arms, scooting as close as you dared with his cast and injuries still gnawing at the back of your mind. 

But you kept going, kept kissing him hard and desperate and like you’d wanted to since the day you’d first met him, first day of junior year outside the cafeteria. 

He’d just come from the principal’s office, grumbling under his breath about how ‘fighting an evil warlock and saving the world’ should be a good enough excuse for not handing in his English paper. You’d found him endearingly sweet almost immediately, and though he was a brooding, leather-clad stranger to you, the moment he noticed you staring, the biggest smile you’d ever seen lit up his face.

How could you not have fallen for him?  

“Eddie,” you tried to speak between the frantic kisses, forcing your hands on either side of his face to reign him back. He let out a whine that had you seeing black but you knew the two of you needed to talk a few things out. “I know– fuck, I know, Eds. But listen to me,” you began, breathless and mentally cursing yourself out for interrupting such a deliciously perfect kiss. 

“I’m listening,” he said offhandedly, still fixated on your lips as you spoke. 

“Eddie!” you scolded, pitching his chin up so he’d look at you, not your mouth. 

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, that cheeky smile plastered to his face that told you he wasn’t sorry at all. “I’m listening now.”

“I can’t be your friend,” you said plainly, and you knew the minute the words left your mouth that you needed to explain further because Eddie was recoiling like he’d been slapped in the face and kicked in the gut. 

“What– I– What?” He looked about ready to argue with you but you held up your hand to stop him. 

“I can’t be your friend,” you repeated, then continued. “--because I am so disgustingly in love with you, Eddie Munson. I’ve been driving myself crazy, trying to find the right words, so much so that I basically hid from you ever since you’ve been in the hospital.” 

You let out a shaky breath but your voice never wavered as you confessed what you’d been wanting to for what seemed like months now. The last time you’d come close to these words, it had ended in tears and sobs and a piercing melancholy you were sure would kill you. But you weren’t in denial, not anymore. 

You could see it in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, kissed you. 

The words you were looking for, you realised, didn’t have to be complicated, profound, or even poetic. They could be simple, like a fact, a truth, a certainty. “I love you,” you said again, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He couldn’t hold back, had to say it before it burst out of his chest and hit you square in the face. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you,” he admitted easily, grinning down at you like you were his world, his galaxy, his whole damn universe. He kissed you slow, savouring every second of his lips against yours “You make me feel again, sweetheart.”

Other people might believe in a God, a philosophical question, a certain moral ruling or even nothing at all. Everyone has their own unique reasoning for their actions, their words, their life. And while you’d never treaded down such an existential road, had never considered why, what or who, one thing you could close your eyes and believe in, without hesitation, was love.

And Eddie Munson sure gave you a whole lot of it. 

screaming. crying. throwing up and throwing hands. reblogs appreciated x

tag list:

@julehack @zucchinimalfoy @tomhollandisabae @fujiihime @authorlovers @munsonzzgf​ @earthtokace​

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #false god #my writing

[fic-recommended]

Shyan Fics

I’ll Crawl Home – carrieonfighting

(16,024 words / 6 chapters / Teen and up)

Tags: Demon!Shane, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, bc im PRETENTIOUS, Protective!Shane

"Shane was almost unnerved by how quickly he’d settled into this body, this name, this life - his friendship with Ryan was the most time he’d spent with any human before, and yet the man fascinated him."

Wow. That’s all I gotta say. I started reading Shane/Ryan fic because I had a weird dream and went looking for comfort fic to ease the edges of my mind. I stumbled upon this fic and was so fucking blown away. I was drawn in because of the demon!Shane tag and the way this story is charted out is insane. It’s nonlinear (there is a liner version tho I’m strongly against it). Just ohmygod read this fic it’s insane and hurts so good.

I’m Gonna Keep You in Love with Me (for a While) – beethechange

(21,847 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)

Tags: fake married, also real married, friends to husbands to lovers to ???, Las Vegas Wedding, possible dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Rimming, just assume most of the kinds of sex are present here, probably more Celine Dion than you were hoping for, they say "fuck" a lot, also "dude" but I don't make the rules okay, Bedsharing

Shane is pacing around the hotel room. It’s not a huge room and Shane’s legs are long enough that he doesn’t have much real estate to pace before he has to swing back around for another loop.

“Can you stop?” Ryan asks. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Okay,” Shane says finally. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re just going to—we’re going to be married. The only way out is through.”

“Um,” Ryan says, because this plan strikes him as counterproductive to their shared goal of not being married.

To me there are the big two when thinking of Shane/Ryan fics. That is to say the others aren’t amazing but two gutted me in a way I was not expecting from I ship I don’t even ship. This is one of the two and fucks sake it hurts me but in a way I really like and neeeeeded. (The other is the one above this)

Muscles Better and Nerves More – beethechange

(26,301 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)

Tags: Bodyswap, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, First Time, Pining, Slow Burn, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Body Horror, Rituals, Swearing, Sexy Shame

“I’m serious,” Ryan says. “Don’t go fucking up my body. I want that shit back in the same condition I left it.”

“The same condition—Ryan. I’m not spending hours in a gym every day so you don’t lose muscle mass.”

“I want you to treat my body with the respect you would a national park. Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories.”

***

A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.

I have found out while reading this fic that I am also a sucker for bodyswap!au. Something about learning to love someone completely while seeing (and being lmao) all of them is so intimate and endearing to me. Plus there’s dumplings in this fic and that is just sweet sweet poetry.

If you can find a way to love me, it’s all right – varnes

(11,232 words / 1 chapter / Teen and up)

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Psychic Ryan

When Ryan was a kid, he fell into a pile of bricks. They were playing hide and seek, and he thought he had the best hiding spot: high up in a thickly lush tree, his knees drawn to his chest so that he’d blend in. But the branch broke. He hit his head and doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. When he woke up a few hours later, the sun was setting, and his friends were gone, and his parents were calling for him, their flashlights swinging across the grass. There’d been blood on his bangs.

Anyway, now he can see ghosts.

Kind of.

Look, he’s not great at it.

--

Or: Ryan, personally, has three lists: “NICE GHOSTS,” “GHOSTS I DON’T FUCK WITH,” and, “IDK, SPOOKY STUFF.”

Oh my goddddd this fic is so sweet and so owie. At first I was skeptical because the fanon is that Shane can see demons or ghosts or whatever. But having it be Ryan???? So owie in such a good way. Other then this fic being the masterpiece that it is, I’m going to convince you with one sentence: Ryan has a cat with a ghost in it that demands Taco Bell. That’s it baybee. Read it or you’ll regret itttt.

BFFS Get Married For A Week – Ryan and Shane – aspookycryptidsock

(18,108 words / 8 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Pining, Mutual Pining

"As I was saying," Curly continues with a pointed glare in Ryan's direction. "It's my honor to join the two of you in unholy matrimony. The rules are simple, you'll live together, plan one date each, and cherish each other. Til week do you part."

I first read this fic years and years ago. I don’t know how it happened but me and my best friend found it while being at a library and we went feral reading it before their mom picked us up. It’s my origin story to the ship. This fic is my first love and my baby gorl. Shane is intense in a way I lovelovelove. Ryan is dumber then a pile a bricks amen.

Body Farming – shiphitsthefan

(7,251 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)

Tags: Season/Series 04, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Shane Madej, Protective Shane Madej, Omega Ryan Bergara, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Scenting, Multiple Orgasms, Knotting, Daddy Kink, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Filth with Feelings, Community: bfukinkmeme, Multisex Omega

Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.

Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.

Right?

Your honor I’d like to state my case by saying being horny on main is bc I’m silly goofy and I never meant no harm. ABO fuck or die in a cave? Fuccck kkkk y e aaaa

Por Favor, Sweetheart – carrieonfighting

(7,859 words / 1 chapter / Teen and up)

Tags: Kid Fic, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Accidental Baby Acquisition, ryan dadgara, and shane dadej, Original Baby Character - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You Have Been Warned

Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late

Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks

Ryan gains custody of a baby and is strugggglinnnggg until a Sasquatch comes and helps <3. Ain’t nothing says romance baybeee then an actual baby.

daring it’s a faded notion – varnes

(28,760 words / 5 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: Paranormal shenanigans, y'all remember that trope where people can't be more than 5 feet apart without Suffering?

The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.

They were pushed.

OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can't be not-touching. It's ... not great.

Ghosties don’t like the no homo and said ummm yeeeeet!!! Into the Grand Canyon then the ghoul boys kiss???? Makes me go hubba hubba

Collide - needywitch

(35,310 words / 2 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: Pining, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Biting, First Time, Dirty Talk, Love Confessions, Rough Sex, Shane Madej Has a Big Dick

Ryan is desperately in love with his best friend.

Owieeeeeee. This one made me cryyyy. The prose of this fic along with a healthy usage of the word jaunty made this fic deeply emotional as well as made me want to cry when they kissed. Very excellent

A Perfect Piece of Ass, Like Every Californian - beethechange

(25,706 words / 3 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: entirely self-indulgent PWP, smut with feelings, Threesome, Birthday Sex, Oral Sex, lotta ball stuff here folks, so i hope you like balls, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Sexy Air Traffic Conducting, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism

“Happy birthday, Shane,” Sara says. “I got you a Ryan.”

“Th—thanks?” Shane says. He looks at Ryan and Ryan just looks back, weirdly impassive, giving nothing away. “But I’m pretty sure I already have a Ryan in this model. What’s the return policy?”

“Not like this, you don’t,” she says, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Out of the corner of his eye Shane can see Ryan bring his hand to his mouth, stifling a snicker that he turns into a cough. Oh, he thinks.

Oh shit.

I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that this fic is morally correct but Shane/Sara/Ryan fic is what I needed and it blew me away and it is the best smut thank you goodnight

#shane madej #shyan shipping society #Shyan #shane x ryan #ryan bergara #shane madej x reader #shane madej x ryan bergara #ryan bergara x reader #ghoul boys #watcher #watcher fanfic #buzzfeed unsolved #watcher ghost files #I’m sorry #shyan fic #fic recs #Shyan fic recs

[neveah-llama]

And the Everything In Between- Amity Park, America’s Most Haunted Town? (Not Clickbait)

Hey, this is just one of my future chapters coming out in the next couple of days. This is a Wesley Weston-centric chapter (because I just love the little goofball) and I wanted to post this because I had a fun time writing this! You don't have to read my fanfic to understand it btw, so it should be enjoyable for everyone! Hopefully, I wrote him right, lol.

Enjoy!

Something is going on within the town called Amity Park, but is it all just a weird coincidence or something else more sinister? Wes Weston is on the case. 

[the video starts with static, before clearing up and showing a clip of a forest fire] 

“Destruction.” 

[The video goes to static again before switching to a video of an earthquake.] 

“Chaos.”

[The video goes staticy again] 

“And-” 

[The screen is static before it shows a low resolution video, hands were covering the lens before it went back to static again.] 

“ Come on, you worthless-!” 

[You could hear something hitting the camera, showing this time a blurry video of a person with orange hair before going to static again.] 

“Piece of-!” 

[The camera fizzes in and out a couple times.] 

“Junk!”  

[It settles on a blurry figure, before it slowly starts to tip over.] 

“No. no, no, no, no!” 

[ It falls] 

“God, my parents are going to murder me…” someone mutters. 

[the camera fizzes out one more time before it settles on an up close blurry figure. After a couple of minutes, the resolution changes to a more clear resolution. It’s a teen, around the ages of fourteen or fifteen. The boy has an unkept orange haircut, and green eyes.] 

“Alright, just one last tweak here and…” 

[ The boy smiles leaning back from his chair, to reveal he is wearing a basketball jersey, he smiles before shining a flashlight to his face] 

“And, death!”

[Cheap sounding thunderclaps rang as the teen boy flicked his lamp desk light on and off. He did this for a couple of seconds before  throwing the flashlight away, pushing the desklamp away and giving the viewer a serious look.] 

“My name is Wesley Weston, and up until now I was just like you all, living blissfully in my ignorance until I caught evidence of these!” 

[Wesley then shoved a couple pictures up towards the camera, all blurry and hard to see. The first being a blurry cloud of blue mist surrounding a school, the second a silhouette of what seems to be a giant robot with the night sky behind it, and the third, well it seems that his thumb was the main focus of that picture.] 

“Evidence that Amity Park is not just a normal town. Oh no,”

[The boy sets the pictures down before giving off a low chuckle.] 

“See, it is so much more than that. For the past two months I have been collecting evidence that something is going on with this town, something even the local government doesn’t know of yet.” 

[Wesley rolls a corkboard with tons of blurry pictures and red strings looping them all together all pointing too…] 

For you see folks, Amity Park, the site of an ancient hell hole connecting the living with the dead! It has been recorded since ancient times, long before colonizers took-” 

-Pause- 

The Wesley on the screen stopped mid-rant, before a tanned finger came into view and turned the computer screen off. Once it did all Wesley could see was his reflection, staring back at him with a bored stare as the principal put her computer away.

Principal Ishiyama simply stared at the fourteen year-old, Wesley was pretty sure it was because she thought she knew more than him, when in fact she did not.  

“Mr. Weston,..” She pursed her lips almost as if she was contemplating something, “It seems that your uh…hobby is getting out of hand.” 

Wesley couldn’t help but scoff, “This, Dr. Ishiyama, is not a ‘hobby’,” Yes, he did air quotes, “I am simply informing the public about the truth of Amity Park!” 

“By calling the settlers of the 1800’s colonizers?” She deadpanned as lift an eyebrow.

“I said what I said,” Wesley sniffed. He even allowed himself to smirk when he heard the principal mutter an agreement. 

But, the principal sill voiced out her meaningless concerns, “Regardless Mr. Weston, these videos spread misinformation, you can’t just say this stuff without proper research- which you do not have when it comes to ghosts!” Wesley rolled his eyes at that comment. Sure that’s what she thinks, but she doesn’t have an observant bone in her body, not that it’s her fault though. It has taken years for Wes to hone his skills till they were on point. Besides, he has photographic evidence. 

“And of course, you’re not listening to me.” The bell rang in time with the principal’s deep breath and when it was all over Principal Ishiyama gave Wesley a hall pass. 

“Just go to class, we’ll talk about this later.” Wesley simply nodded, thanking the principal for her time and walked to his last period of the day, World History, one of the only classes he likes. 

He gave Mr. Lancer his slip of paper, just as the mid-forties man was finishing up roll-call. The teacher didn’t bat an eye with him though, most likely because he was use to Danny’s frequent tardiness. Like now for instance, Danny’s seat is empty and he’s going to come in in three seconds…

“Ah, late again Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Lancer didn’t even pose it as a question, while the out of breath teen wheezed out a ‘here’ before slumping in his seat. 

Tch, typical Fenton, honestly. 

“Right, as we have been doing for the past couple of days, we will be finishing off our presentations. Mr. Weston, you’re up.” 

All right, he has this in the bag! Wesley walked with confidence from his seat to the front of the classroom. 

Truly, he has been working on this for the past four days. 

He inserted a flash drive into one of the plug-ins into the computer, while the computer was warming up, he turned off the lights of the classroom and turned on the projector. 

Did he mention he also skipped sleep for two of those days? 

“Alright,” He whispered once the projector came to life. 

“Friends, enemies, the bully who makes my life miserable.” 

“Hey.” Dash said, waving his hand. 

“I would like to ask you a question: Do you feel like Amity Park is safe? A quote-unquote safest town in all of America?” He waits a couple of moments before continuing. 

“Well I think not, for you see something has been forming in the shadows, something sinister, dark, and ones that reeks of death. People-!” He takes the clicker away from Mr. Lancer’s hands and clicks to his powerpoint. 

“I present to you the 10 reasons why Amity Park is a gateway to Hell!” His classmates were all gaping with awe and obvious interest. 

But then Star had to ruin it. 

“Uh, Wesley…it says that there’s three hundred slides to this powerpoint.” 

“Oh that’s great, you could count. Anyways- before I get to reason number one, we must first know about the background.” He clears his throat, “As you can see according to the-” 

But before he could continue, the lights turned on, he was about to yell at the person who was responsible for it, only to gulp when it was Mr.Lancer standing next to the light switch. “Mr. Wesley, it appears you have misread the project parameters, I specifically assigned you to the formation of the Byzantine empire. But I do love the spirit.” Mr. Lancer said as he wrote something on his pad of paper. 

“Does this mean I get an A?” This, for some reason, earned a laugh from Mr.Lancer. 

“Hardly, F-.” 

“What-” 

“Say anything more and I’ll see you in detention.” 

“But, I have photographic evidence- look!” He quickly took out the three pictures from the MiTube video out of his pocket. Whether it was an act of mercy or plain curiosity, his teacher took the photos and eyes them critically. 

“Mr. Weston, this is just your thumb.” 

“Yes it is my thumb, but if you look closely right at that left corner you will see a-” 

“That is two weeks detention, Mr. Wesley.” Wesley couldn’t help but shout at the sky, how dare the education system fail him!

#danny phantom #wesley weston #writing #fanfic #danny fenton

[aplaceinthedark]

CONSUMED by the DARK

(a TOWERING MAN story)

Word Count: 2.9k+

CW: supernatural themes, religious sacrifice, body horror, animal cruelty, being buried alive

Pain. Fear. That’s all Noah could feel right now.

He clutched at his side, trying to staunch the blood flowing from the stab wound. Whatever cultists that stabbed him had thankfully not stabbed him deep enough. They had been aiming for the heart, but he twisted just in time.

“Noooo-ahhh!”

He whimpered at the sound of his name being called. He couldn't tell what direction it had come from. Whatever freaks they had out here were searching for him, and they were using his loved ones' voices. Some of them he hadn’t heard in years. Those he could care less about, but when he heard his best friends’ voice, crying out in pain for him, he wanted to curl up and wait until they found him, finishing him off for good.

That's when Noah stumbled face first into another tree, adding more blood to his body. He had entered the woods with a flashlight, but it was gone now. He was stumbling blindly, with no moon to guide him. Why did the gods decide to coincide the summer solstice with the new moon? Whose great idea was that?

Where was the end? How far into the woods was he?

“Noooo-AAAHH!”

God, they had to be close. He could barely run anymore. His fingers were ice cold despite the warm blood slipping between them. His foot caught a loose root, and he fell face down in the dirt. His cry of pain surely would alert them to his location.

Indeed, a low glow lit up the back of his eyelids as he lifted his head. Through bleary eyes, he could make out the dull red glow. Except it wasn’t a cultist standing before him.

Its pelt was black; blacker than the darkness surrounding the two. Noah was certain he would’ve been able to track it in complete darkness. The dull red glow, though, lit up the hollow, and he could see that it came from its antlers. He couldn’t count how many points the stag had, mainly because they seemed to twist and turn in on themselves. Like oak branches, he thought. 

Noah could only imagine what he looked like: covered in blood and dirt, leaves and sticks caught in his shoulder- length hair as well as his clothes. Despite the circumstances, he felt like he wasn’t worthy to be caught in the thing's presence. The stag dug at the ground with one of its massive hooves. Noah was tall, but this beast had to be more than twice his size.

Before Noah could contemplate any further, it spoke, not aloud, but in his mind:

CHILD OF THE VALLEY, WHY HAVE YOU COME TO MY COURT?

Noah flinched at the harsh tone. It was guttural, like a scream that came from the gut rather than the throat. He sputtered, unsure of how he even managed to get to that spot. He told the stag so, through chattering teeth as the coldness of the hollow finally caught up to him. 

The stag tilted its head, the glow of its antlers moving as if filled with liquid. Like blood. The movement almost seemed… human-like. It unsettled Noah even more.

I THINK YOU KNOW WHERE YOU TRULY ARE, NOAH SEBASTIAN DAVIS. YOUR KIND HAVE TOLD THE TALES OF THE WATCHER OF THE WOODS FOR A LONG, LONG TIME.

Noah flinched again at those words that sounded like a parent coldly scolding their child. To be honest, until recently, he never had believed in those tales of darkness roaming the Shenandoah Valley. Then, when what happened with the Folio kid happened, he started to believe it more and more.

“Please… please help me. I-I’ll do anything,” he pleaded, feeling a fresh spurt of blood despite his numb fingers. It wouldn’t be long now.

THERE WILL BE A PRICE.

“I… I don’t care. I- I’ll do any… thing.” He didn’t want to die here, alone in the woods. 

GIVE YOURSELF TO ME. BECOME THE INSTRUMENT OF MY WILL, AND I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN OF YOUR HUMANITY.

Noah could barely speak at that point, so he merely nodded. The Watcher made a sound, and the world went black. With one last steady breath, Noah spoke his final words:

“I think I've had enough… enough now.”

And that was how the young human, Noah Davis, died and became the Towering Man. 

The search parties were few. That didn’t surprise him. Ever since he and Nicholas were made to be the boys who cried wolf, the people in town were quick to make excuses for his disappearance. 

"He was a troubled boy.”

“He probably just ran away."

“Kids these days. He’s probably lying face down in a drain in the city right now.”

If he could feel anger, it would be at the woman who had claimed to love him. The woman who had turned out to be just like the rest of them. She was the reason for the state that he was in. She was the reason why he had died and sold his soul. After that, she only fueled the rumors that he had run away. Even with Nicholas trying his best to combat the rumors, it was only him against a town of five thousand.

Nicholas tried his best to keep the search parties going, but when you live in a town that values old superstitions over the life of a 21-year-old, it’s hard to do anything. Noah wanted to tell his friend that it was okay, to ease Nicholas’ pain and anxiety, but he was forced to watch as Nicholas continued to put up missing flyers and stay up late at night to wait for Noah to come home.

But after a few months, even Nicholas seemed to give up. His family convinced him to move to Richmond, and for a while Noah would only see Nicholas every once and while, when he would visit Granny. And Noah was forced to do nothing but watch from the treeline.

During the day, he would root himself near Granny Ruffilo’s home. He tried to resist the Watcher’s pull, even at night when he was demanded to collect the offerings left by the cult: mostly blood and wine. Except on the nights when the moon was darkest, then he couldn’t resist the voice inside his head.

Noah wanted to scream out whenever he would see Nicholas through one of the windows; scream at him that he was right there, outside of that window, just past the treeline. Except Nicholas wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if he could use his voice.

And Noah’s heart - or whatever counted as his heart now - turned black.

He watched Nicholas move on. Seasons passed, and so did Noah’s feelings. By the time June came back around, he had pretty much given himself over to the Watcher’s will. He accepted the fact that his best friend would no longer be saving him. 

The night before the summer solstice, Noah was summoned to the Watcher’s Grove. Some would joke that it could be a courtroom, except the Black Stag was too proud of itself to share its power. All it needed was its minions, which it was surrounded with now. 

THE TIME HAS COME, CHILD OF THE VALLEY. YOUR GOD DEMANDS ONE LAST THING OF YOU.

Noah thought he was being rewarded, being given his human body back. Like some kind of horrific Cinderella, he just needed to explain to Nicholas everything that had happened; that he had made a deal with the devil that he couldn’t take back. The Watcher knew that the first thing Noah would do was run to Nicholas, and he planned accordingly.

Noah should’ve realized his mistake. When he called for Nicholas, he should’ve realized it when he felt his bones shift in response. He should’ve realized it when he felt his body stretch and grown when Nicholas came out into the woods. It wasn’t until Nicholas’ face twisted in fear did Noah realize the Watcher’s plan.

Nicholas was to be the Watcher’s next Vessel, and Noah was to bring him to the Watcher.

Except the Watcher had underestimated Nicholas. See, it turned out Nicholas was a part of an old bloodline of Practitioners. Usually, it passed down onto the women, skipping a generation if need be. For some reason, instead of picking his sister, the practice chose him. It did so not long before this incident, so Nicholas was still learning the extent of what he could and could not do.

So when Noah reached out for him with a thorny hand, Nicholas accidentally blew him apart. But Noah had died in the Shenandoah Valley, where dead things don’t stay dead.

Nicholas crafted a body made of sticks, leaves and mud, and bound Noah to it. It nearly killed both of them. It wasn’t the best; Nicholas had just learned how to manage his practice, after all. Noah had a body again, and this one wasn’t under the control of the Watcher’s will.

And he would use it to his advantage.

“I’m gonna fuck up that deer god.”

Their plan wasn’t perfect at all. Nicholas was going to pretend to be captured, the perfect Vessel to be sacrificed. That way, hopefully they would have the element of surprise.

Which of course, wasn’t how it happened. Leave it to him to underestimate how good the Watcher was at reading minds.

YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND AGAINST A GOD?

the Watcher of the Woods asked. The cultists stood around them in a circle, not getting too close, but ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

YOU, A SCARED LITTLE BOY AND HIS LITTLE WITCH, AGAINST SOMETHING OLDER THAN THE DIRT YOU STAND UPON? OLDER THAN THE STICKS IN YOUR BODIES THAT YOU CALL BONES?

Was Noah scared? Absolutely, even though he couldn’t really feel it. But for once, he didn’t let his fear show, like he did when he faced the Watcher the first time,  a year and a day ago in this same grove.

This time he was ready.

With Nicholas helping him, his concentration divided between bolding off the Cultists with a warding barrier and aiding Noah, Noah found he was evenly matched with the Black Stag. He had learned the deity's tricks over the past year, and could counteract them easily. Noah acted as an almost perfect counterbalance to the darkness: whenever the Watcher would throw decayed dirt edged with frost that was colder than the universe, Noah would ruin it with life and nature and warmth.

The Watcher of the Woods even tried to take Nicholas out of the equation with a malediction, but Noah wouldn't let it. With a roar that could shake mountains, Noah charged forward and grabbed onto the Stag's twisted antlers. Under his grip, they were bitterly cold, almost turning his fingers instantly blue. The stag tried to rear back to shake off Noah, but he only tightened his grip until his knuckles cracked.

“After all that you've put me through? After all the hell you created for these hollow souls? After all the lives you've torn apart for your sick enjoyment? You think for one second, I'll let you destroy one more? You think that this makes you a god?”

Noah's eyes flared green, lighting up the darkness in his eyes, as with a loud growl, he spoke: 

IF THERE'S A GOD, IT'S FUCKING ME!

And with a twist, Noah tore off the crown of bloody bones with a mighty crack. At first, he thought the sound had come from his body, but when the red in his vision faded, he saw the head of the Black Stay on the ground, separated from its body.

There were numerous cries of disbelief around him. Some might have tried to attack him, but with one look, they stopped. Noah held up the antlers that were still in his hands.

DON'T EVER COME BACK, YOU HEAR ME? IF I FIND OUT YOU EVEN TRY TO START THIS SHIT AGAIN, I WILL COME AFTER ALL OF YOU! YOUR FAMILIES TOO, IF I HAVE TO!

And they scattered like roaches.

Noah and Nicholas stood in the grove, alone and quiet. The corpse of the Black Stag had decayed fast; even the bones and antlers had rotted away. Noah shook his hands until the decay was gone. All that was left was the skin of his palms had been burned black. 

“Now what?" Nicholas said, breaking the silence.

“I don't know. I don't feel any–”

There was a sudden shifting beneath Noah. He looked down in surprise to see that the ground had swallowed his feet. He was sinking.

And with one last raspy chuckle, he heard the Black Stag mutter in his mind:

THERE MUST ALWAYS BE SOMETHING TO WATCH OVER THE WOODS.

Nicholas tried to pull him free, but when Noah was up to his waist in the ground, he pushed Nicholas away. “But I just found you!” Nicholas cried.

“Don't worry, I'll be back. Just listen for your name.”

And the earth swallowed Noah up, and darkness claimed him once again. 

He felt the suffocating weight of the ground pressing on him from all sides, the darkness so absolute he didn't know which way was up or down. A weird feeling spread through him, like a panic attack but… absent. Like he should be having one, but it wouldn't come. 

That's when he realized his eyes were closed, but when he opened them, he was faced with something much worse. 

Something fell into his eyes, and when he opened his mouth to scream, it fell in there too. The taste gave him his answer to where he was.

Dirt. He was buried underground.

Still, he didn't feel panic. He struggled against the dirt, trying to claw his way free, but his limbs were numb and weak from disuse. There was no way he was going to get out of this without some help.

Naturally, he called for the person who would help him without question.

NICHOLAS.

He felt ridiculous. How was Nicholas gonna hear him? How did he even get buried in the first place? 

There was no time for questions or memories. He had to dig himself out somehow.

He willed his arms to move, his legs to kick. Either he was so weak, or buried so deep, he couldn't move a muscle. He tried to remember what he was taught about being buried alive. Don't use a lighter; breathe short little gasps to prolong the air. That was if he was buried in a box, though, and he didn't need to worry about breathing. He hadn't needed to for a long time. 

He didn’t know how long he was there, buried deep beneath, barely moving despite his mind shouting at his limbs to just move already! He had almost given up when he felt the earth shift somewhere near his head. Were those voices?

It sounded like great amounts of dirt were being thrown around, like when a dog digs for a bone. It stopped for a moment, a new voice joining whoever was above. Then the digging continued, but with the rhythm of what might be a shovel.

When the weight got lighter, Noah used the last of his strength to move his arm. Without the weight of the dirt pressing down on him, his hand burst up from the ground. There was a shout, and suddenly two pairs of hands grabbed onto his arm and pulled him free.

“I came as soon as I heard your call. In my head,” Nicholas said.

The other two, Joakim and Nick, had heard it too. If there were others like them, they didn’t show. But Noah didn’t care. These were his friends now.

This was the Circle of Omens and Thorns.

And that’s how Noah Sebastian became the new Watcher of the Woods, the King of the Shenandoah Valley.

Something was wrong with the woods, and it was driving Noah crazy.

As he peers over the top of the mountains from his perch on Stony Man Mountain, he feels the Appalachian Spring air sweep through the trees, barely ruffling his long hair. He mindlessly twirls a braid around his finger, thumb rolling a bead around as an anxious tic. A chill runs down his spine, and he knows it’s not because of the wind. The Spring season up here is a lot like a joke; he’s seen wildflowers poking through big heaps of snow before. That wasn’t stopping him from shedding his shirt, like now.

He likes to come up here, despite it being a popular stop on a hiking trail. At night, no one will bother him; not even Folio. He knows that when Noah goes up Stony Man, he doesn’t want to be disturbed.

Except he’s still disturbed, just in a different way.

He lays back on the ground and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he curls his fingers through the dirt and grass. He grounds himself to expand his consciousness through the Valley.

He can feel the way the trees seem to curl in on themselves, like an old man wrapping his coat tighter around him as he trudged on through the bustling air. His skin crawls as he feels roots wind their way through the soil, touching something so foul it fills his throat with black mud and he gags, but can’t move. The black mud chokes him, whispering in a familiar voice that promises nothing but venom and sweet lies. 

He wrenches from his reverie, coughing and spitting despite nothing is in his mouth other than cold air and saliva. 

Something has returned to the Valley. Something dark, and something… black.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #noah sebastian fanfiction #paranormal au #horror au #series: lost in the labyrinth #fic: the grove of secrets #cw: supernatural themes #cw: religious sacrifice #cw: animal cruelty #cw: body horror #cw: buried alive

[panandinpain0]

I would literally kill for anything Jasper Hale x male reader. Fluff? I’m down. Angst? I’m down. We have been deprived of gay Jasper and it makes me upset.

OH MY GOD I COULD NOT AGREE MORE- JASPER HALE X MALE!READER COMING RIGHT UP.

Fisherman's Son

Requested by: Anon

Fluff for Jasper Hale x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of manipulate father and Swearing

Also, I'm just filling in little information like your dad's first name and the place you grew up, nothing much. Oh! And some parts of this are from the movies (like Waylon is mentioned).

--

'You idiot! You know you shouldn't have come!' (Y/N) screamed at himself in his head.

He'd accepted his father's invitation to visit him in Forks, Washington after not seeing him for years. His parents had gotten a divorce and his manipulative father left, probably trying his best to pull at some guilt they might've felt. They didn't, of course, and his father sent a lousy letter every couple of years talking only about himself. Nonetheless, (Y/N) fell for it every time. And here he was, only a day after he'd arrived at Forks, lost in the woods. His father had insisted on going camping in the woods nearby, and even though (Y/N) had tried to protest he'd found himself shivering in a tent anyways. He'd come out after he'd heard the snap of a stick and ruffling from his dad's tent. Poking his head out, (Y/N) became alarmed when he realized his father wasn't there, a light shining and illuminating the empty tent; no signs of shadows.

That's how (Y/N) (L/N) found himself pointing a flashlight into the thick forest around him. A breeze blew past and made him shiver, making him regret not bringing his coat with him. Jesus Christ, why was he making so many mistakes?

Another twig snapped behind him, making him whip his head around and point his light at the source.

"Who are you?" the 'source' asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," (Y/N) responded with a strained voice, trying to make it come out normal. He took a step back, his body stiff, his eyes not leaving the man's.

"Jasper Hale. I'm Doctor Cullen's son, I'm sure you've heard of him. I live nearby," he explained calmly, stepping forward the slightest bit in a way to make (Y/N) more comfortable.

"You live in the middle of the forest?"

Jasper let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head a bit. "I know. An odd destination, I admit."

The silence stretched, filling the distance between them, awkward and stifling.

"Now you know who I am. May I ask who you are?" Jasper asked carefully, trying to figure out what this extremely attractive man was doing in his pajamas in the middle of the woods at night.

(Y/N)'s face was set into a hard glare, not because he didn't like Jasper, but because he was scared and trying not to show it. Jasper, having felt this, took a breath and focused on that feeling. (Y/N), taken aback by how calm he felt after a moment sighed, suddenly finding his earlier arguments for why he should be defensive silly.

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

"(L/N)? Harmon (L/N)'s son?" Jasper asked, crossing his arm over his chest and holding his chin with the other. His head tilted just slightly to the left and he heard (Y/N)'s heart skip a beat, making him bite his cheeks to keep down a smirk.

"Yeah."

"I've never heard of you."

"I don't think he would've talked about me much," (Y/N) answered, his shoulders resting down from their tense position and sticking his hands in his pockets.

Making a mental note to continue the topic later, Jasper wanted to know more. "What are you doing all alone out here?" he asked with a hint of concern lacing his tone.

"My dad- we came out here camping and... I can't find him," (Y/N) hesitantly explained, remembering why he was out there. Anyone would've forgotten their task if they saw those dark eyes and chiseled face framed by blonde hair.

"Do you want me to help you look?" Jasper asked almost immediately, his own worries popping up in the back of his mind. Could it be the wolves? No, it couldn't be. Ever since Bella had been turned and Renesmee had been imprinted on by Jacob they wouldn't dare to, not that they would have otherwise. It couldn't be Victoria, she was long gone. Maybe the Volturi, but what on earth would they want with a simple fisherman? Or maybe Jasper was overthinking it all and it was just a murderer in the woods.

"Uhm... that would be great but, I wouldn't want to keep you. Wait- what are you even doing out here?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly remembering he hadn't known why he was out there.

"I was..." Jasper tried to think of something quickly. You know, something other than 'I was hunting with my vampire family because we drink animal blood instead of human blood- also, vampire's exist.' "I was just out for a walk. Had a hard day... needed some air," he lied. He hated lying, the way it felt so bitter on his tongue.

(Y/N) nodded, convincing himself that it made sense. The thought struck him that maybe Jasper was the one that took his dad, and was just trying to draw him in too.

"Thanks again for the offer, but... I think I'll be fine," (Y/N) insisted, standing there, tense yet again. Jasper nodded, not wanting to leave this random guy's presence. Understanding that he was supposed to be the one to walk away first, Jasper walked the same way he had come. (Y/N) did the same, assuming that maybe he was overreacting and his father just went to the bathroom or something.

...

Proving himself wrong once again, (Y/N) sat in front of Chief Swan's desk at the police station.

"Hello young man," he greeted with a smile, his mustache moving up with his mouth. "What can I help you with?"

"Uhm, Chief Swan, right?" (Y/N) asked, holding out a hand that was shaken by Charlie.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N), Harmon (L/N)'s son."

"Harmon has a son?" Charlie asked, surprise written over his face.

"Yes, Chief," (Y/N) nodded, shaking his head at how little his father spoke of him. "I've lived with my mother over in Texas my whole life."

Charlie nodded in understanding, motioning for him to continue.

"Yesterday I went camping with my father. But in the middle of the night, he disappeared. I wasn't able to find him this morning or last night," (Y/N) revealed, shifting in his seat. How did he get himself into such situations?

The Chief's brow creased, a deep line making itself known. "Harmon's missing?" First Waylon, then Harry, now Harmon?

(Y/N) nodded. He just hoped the Chief wouldn't pick up on how much he wasn't worried for his dad.

Charlie started to explain what they would do to find his father, and when he went to write down (Y/N)'s name on the list of the party members that would go out and find him, (Y/N) stopped him.

"Sorry, but, I wouldn't like to go."

"You wouldn't?" Charlie asked, a confused look on his face as he inspected the boy.

"No. In fact, I'll be leaving Forks today."

"Your father goes missing and you're leaving?" Charlie admitted to himself, he sounded judgmental. From his perspective, who wouldn't be?

"Listen, Chief Swan, I don't know you and you don't know me. I'm sure the Harmon you know is different from the one I know. I don't have a good relationship with my father, barely even know the guy." (Y/N) shrugged. "He was shit father, and an even shittier husband to my mom. He left when I was six and all I've gotten for twelve years are letters every once in a while. I came up here because I pitied the guy, but then I remembered how much I hate him. So if you'll excuse me, yes, my father went missing and I'm leaving."

Charlie sat for a moment, trying to comprehend the information. With a nod confirming he heard, Charlie turned away, allowing (Y/N) to stand up and leave.

...

Turning the corner on the road, (Y/N) sighed, looking around at the pedestrians walking around him. They would look at him with a confused face, who would come out to Forks? Why didn't they know who he was? You know, the typical small-town questions.

At a stop light (one of the rare few in the town) a truck stopped beside (Y/N)'s, making him look over at it. It was the man from last night. What was his name again? Oh, yes, Jasper. Next to him in the passenger seat was a blonde woman with golden eyes. There were more people in the back but (Y/N) couldn't see them from the tinted windows. And don't forget the tall one who was standing in the bed of the truck, hands hanging on to the edge of the roof loosely.

Blinking in surprise, (Y/N) just turned his gaze back to the road. The trunk honked and Jasper smirked at his jump.

"Follow us," the stunning blonde woman, who looked quite a bit like Jasper himself, shouted to him. They drove as the light turned green, and though (Y/N) was confused he found himself following them. He didn't know why, but its not like he had anywhere to go. You know, except for home.

Pulling to the side of the empty road, four people stepped out of the truck, the man in the back jumping out. (Y/N) pulled up behind them and hesitantly got out.

"(Y/N), right?" Jasper greeted again, holding out his hand for (Y/N) to shake it.

He did so, slowly. He was still highly suspicious of Jasper. (Y/N) always made mistakes, but this one didn't feel like one.

"Yeah. Jasper, right?"

With a smile Jasper nodded, tensing a bit when he felt (Y/N) flinch at the temperature of his hand. "Let me introduce you to my family. This is my twin sister, Rosalie Hale."

(Y/N) nodded as the gorgeous Rosalie smiled smugly.

"My other sisters, Alice and Bella."

The small girl rocked on her heels and smiled brightly, waving her hand and refraining from hugging the stranger. Bella gave a two fingered salute from Edward's side with a smile.

"Last, and definitely least-" scoffs echoed from the men- "my brothers Emmett and Edward."

A small smile was dragged out of (Y/N) at the comment, waving stiffly to them all. "Not that its not great to meet you and all, but, why did are we here?"

"We're going to help you find your dad!" Alice smiled again, or maybe she hadn't stopped smiling- but the words she said caused (Y/N) to blink in surpise.

"Find my dad?"

"Mhm!" Alice nodded again.

"I don't want to find my dad."

The group all looked at each other after a moment of silence, different reactions rippling through them. Edward, however, just stood there and nodded.

"No- but, we need to find your dad," Alice insisted. Her siblings looked at her curiously, making her avoid eye contact. But of course Edward found out and smirked. She'd seen something and hadn't told the others. So that was why she was so insistent on them helping!

"I mean, if you guys want to, go for it-" (Y/N) shrugged- "But I'm going home."

"Going home?" Jasper asked with panic as (Y/N) reached for his door handle. "Where's home?"

"Texas," (Y/N) responded, climbing into his car and started to drive away again.

The group of vampires sat there in silence, watching him drive.

"Emmett, Bella-" Jasper asked shortly. The two smirked at each other and they started to run, racing each other. They were both fast and strong enough to get to the car and stop it (not without damage of course), so they made it a competition.

Alice stood silently and Edward looked at her in concentration.

"It's okay Jasper. It'll work out, promise." Alice put a small hand on his arm and nodded, Jasper nodding back with unease. He didn't want to force (Y/N) to stay, he just needed enough time to convince him to.

To Be Continued...

--

Okay, so I got uber excited for this so I wrote as much as I could but I'm short circuiting so I'll do a part 2 later. For now enjoy this! And thank you so much for requesting! I hope this was good enough for now <3

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper hale x male!reader #jasper hale x reader #x he/him reader #gay mlm

[odinsblog]

A call for help

Late on the night of June 11, 2022, Christian Glass apparently got his car stuck on a rural road near Silver Plume.

When he phoned 911 from his cell phone asking for help, he sounded mentally unstable, paranoid and extremely scared. He told an operator his car was ensnared in a “trap” in a bush and he said he didn’t like the town he was in.

“I’m in a 2007 Honda Pilot. I will not be fine on my own,” he told an operator. “You’re sending someone right? You tracked my location? My car is stuck under a bush … I love you. You’re my light right now. I’m really scared. I’m sorry.”

A Boulder County resident, Glass was an amateur geologist and had some knives and a hammer in his car from a recent trip to Utah.

Glass, whose parents are from the United Kingdom and New Zealand, told the dispatcher he had what could be perceived as weapons in the car and he offered to throw them outside when officers arrived.

“I have two knives and a hammer and a rubber mallet,” he said, in a slight accent, to the emergency dispatcher. “I’m not dangerous. I’ll keep my hands completely visible. I understand this is a dodgy situation.”

The dispatcher relayed that information to deputies.

“I’m not having any luck clearing this party and he’s not making much sense,” the dispatcher told the deputies.

When they arrived on the scene, Glass again offered to throw the tools and knives out the window.

Deputies said they didn’t want him to throw the weapons out of the car and instead demanded that he get out of the car.

Glass told officers with his hands up that he didn’t feel safe getting out of the car. He took the keys out of the ignition and put them on the dashboard and told them he was scared and wanted to stay in the car. He wasn’t suspected of any crime.

“Please push me out, drag me out, I’ll follow you to a police station,” Glass told the officers. “I’m so scared.”

The deputy, whose name has not been released by authorities, yelled at Glass.

“You need to step out of the car now. Step out of the car,” he said. “That is a lawful order. Step out of the car now or you’ll be removed from the vehicle.”

Glass responded, “I’m so scared … You’re not communicating clearly with me. I don’t understand why I have to come out.”

….

Glass didn’t appear to be posing any threats — to himself or to others. He told officers he “smoked” but no one asked him anything else beyond that.

Throughout the confrontation, Glass remained in the car with the windows rolled up. He can be seen making a heart-shape with his hands at the officers.

“You have my name and phone number, right?” he asked them.

More officers arrived on the scene. At one point, officers from Clear Creek, Idaho Springs, Georgetown Police, Colorado State Patrol and the Colorado Division of Gaming were on the scene.

“Come talk to us,” a female officer asked him. Glass put his hands into a heart sign in the car and then blew kisses at her. “Same back at you, but come out and talk to us,” she said.

That officer walked over to two other female officers and joked that they needed to send “cute girls” over there to talk to him.

‘No reason to contact him’

A supervisor at the Colorado State Patrol, at one point, radioed in that Glass hadn’t committed any crimes.

“Can you ask Clear Creek what their plan is? If there is no crime and he’s not suicidal or homicidal or a great danger, then there’s no reason to contact him,” a CSP sergeant says over the radio. “Is there a medical issue we’re not aware of?”

“No,” a patrol trooper responded back.

But the increasing number of officers on the scene remained there, engaged for almost an hour and 20 minutes, attempting to get Glass to come out of the car. At one point, a deputy climbed on to the hood of the car and shined a flashlight into his eyes and remained there, eventually drawing his gun and pointing down into the car at Glass.

“We’re poppin’,” a deputy said as they attempted to break the car window. Glass picked up the knife.

“He’s got a knife in his hand!” another officer said. “Watch crossfire, watch crossfire."

Officers stepped back and drew their guns. They eventually broke the passenger window, and glass sprayed all over. Glass kept his grip on the small knife.

“You need to drop that knife!” officers shouted.

Glass’ head darted from left to right as officers got closer to him and began shooting bean bags in the car.

“Impact, impact, impact,” officers yelled, as the bean bags went in, appearing to break more of the car windows. Glass grew more agitated and moved his eyes and head back and forth. He started screaming.

Another deputy calls for someone to use a Taser on Glass.

The first officer on the scene deployed his yellow Taser gun and struck Glass. He started screaming again. Officers were on all sides of him at this point with flashlights beaming. A few seconds go by, and officers scream at him again to drop his knife.

“You can save yourself!” he yelled, his last words. “You can still save yourself! Lord hear me. Lord hear me.”

One deputy fired several rounds, striking him and killing him.

Scant information, no further comments

Glass’s parents are expected to speak Tuesday at their lawyer’s office in Denver. Glass was an avid tennis fan and player, a trained chef and a self-taught artist.

“These officers took a gentle, peaceful soul and extinguished it simply because it was ‘time to move the night on,’” lawyers Rathod and Mohamedbhai said, quoting some body worn camera video of the Georgetown Police Chief telling Glass that they didn’t want to stay there anymore. “From beginning to end, the officers on scene acted unconscionably and inhumanely. The Glass family agrees with Colorado State Patrol’s on-scene assessment that Christian had committed no crime, posed no threat to himself or others, and there was no reason for continued contact.”

(continue reading)

#police #christian glass #defund the police #blue lives murder #cowards #cowards and bullies

[evieismol]

Gt Big Bend - Chapter 26 - Revelations

Cw: cursing, violence, death (non graphic)

Word count: 1440

Previous chapter

Dave

I heard Angie inhale sharply, but I kept my gaze fixed on the ground in front of me. I had never spoken about what had happened before - hell, I’d spent the better part of the last decade trying to forget about it. It was too late to go back now, though. I could practically feel Angie’s eyes boring into me as she waited for me to continue.

“I - my grandpa used to live in this cabin, in the middle of nowhere,” I started, trying to force myself to keep my voice steady. “When I was a kid, I’d go there in the summers sometimes. He’d take me hiking, and fishing, and camping, just the two of us. It was what made me want to become a ranger, actually. At least until what happened when I was 12. My grandpa had started letting me explore the woods around his property more and more as I’d gotten older, and on this particular day I wandered further than I’d been before, real deep into the mountains in this section of woods that had been ravaged by wildfires a few years prior. I spent the first part of the morning looking around the burnt remains of the woods, enthralled by the almost otherworldly appearance they had. I didn’t find anything too interesting at first. Some trash, plenty of charred wood. At one point, I saw a campsite off in the distance. I purposefully went in the opposite direction from it, not wanting to run into anyone else. It was around lunch time that it seemed like my exploration was finally paying off. I found this cave near a cliff face, and curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to see how deep it went. Stupid, I know, but that decision ended up saving my life.”

11 years ago

My flashlight only lit up a thin strip of rock in front of me, darkness otherwise consuming the narrow passageway. I glanced back over my shoulder. I shouldn’t go too far - I had no idea how long this cave went on for, or what types of animals might have decided to call it home. Still, standing at the entrance, on my own, I felt like one of those explorers from various adventure movies I’d seen. It wouldn’t hurt to go a little further in, I decided. After all , I was almost 13, which was practically an adult - at least im my mind - and practically an adult meant I was old enough to do so, and old enough to handle whatever trouble I might find in there. My sense of bravado didn’t last long, though, for moments later, everything around me shook.

My first thought was that it was an earthquake. Those weren’t common at my grandpa’s cabin, but my parents lived in California, so I had some experience with them. The shaking outside wasn’t like the earthquakes I’d experienced before, though. My first thought was that I should get out of the cave. In case it collapsed. Before I could do so, though, a figure appeared from behind the hills across from the cave. It looked almost human in shape, but there was one major problem with that. The figure towered over the burnt remains of the trees, easily reaching over a hundred feet high. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’d heard about giants existing on Earth, but I’d been told the ‘smaller’ ones were the only ones I’d likely ever meet.

The figure in front of me was not one of the smaller ones.

Which means they’re an aphirial.

I felt my blood run cold at that realization. The figure drew closer, now fully visible from behind the hill. It was a man, a strikingly human looming man with pale skin and equally pale hair. He hadn’t seen me yet, namely because his attention seemed focused on something else.

Someone else, I realized moments later. There was a smaller figure across the burnt expanse as well. I almost didn’t notice them in comparison to the giant. The giant, however, had definitely noticed them. They had obviously noticed the giant as well. They were attempting to run away, an attempt that was quickly cut short as the giant caught up with them in ease, blocking their path with one foot. They were yelling something. I couldn’t make out what it was from my distance. I could, however, make out the giant’s voice. It boomed clearly across the expanse between us.

“Now what do we have here?”

I found myself frozen in place. My heart was beating so loudly I half expected both the human and the giant to notice me. Fortunately - or unfortunately for the human - the giant’s attention was focused solely on them. I watched in horror as the giant crouched down, picking the human up by one arm. The human struggled futiely against their grip. The giant raised them up so they were level with his comparatively huge face. They were still yelling, though I suspected it was more panicked screams than actual words at this point.

“So, I take it you’re the one that little campsite belongs to?”

If the human replied, I couldn’t make it out.

“You know, I’ve never seen a human up close before. You’re smaller than I imagined,” the giant said, looking unconcerned at the human’s panic. I felt like my own almost matched theirs. I desperately wanted to turn and run, but I found myself rooted to the stone floor of the cave as I watched the scene unfold.

I didn’t think it was possible for my level of horror to increase anymore. That assumption was proven wrong as I watched the human continue, jerking upwards in the giant’s grip. The sudden movement apparently caught the giant off guard. Things seemed to happen in slow motion after that. The human’s arm slipped from between the giants fingers. I watched as their small form plummeted to the ground. The giant crouched down, still looking unpertubed. When he picked the human up again, they were limp.

“Shame,” I heard him murmur. I wasn’t sure why that was what broke me from my trance, but I found myself able to move again. I scrambled towards the back of the cave, not stopping until I felt cold rock against my back. Then I started to sob. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there, but when I finally found the courage to make my way to the front of the cave again, it was dark out. I hurried home after that, half expecting the giant to appear from the shadows and scoop me up at any minute.

That didn’t happen, though. Instead, I arrived home to find my grandfather organizing a search for me, having grown worried when I didn’t return by nightfall. He asked where I’d been. I found myself unable to tell him, unable to recount what I’d seen. I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me anyways - aphirials weren’t supposed to be on this planet, after all. So I just said I’d gotten turned around, and it had taken me a while to find my way back home. The story that I’d gotten lost accounted well enough for the fright still shimmering in my eyes, and my grandfather accepted the explanation. I was banned from exploring the woods for the rest of the summer, something I hardly minded at that point. I waited for weeks after that to hear something about a disappearance, the guilt of my silence growing. Fear of what moght happen if I did say something kept me quiet, though. Fear of being disbelieved, fear of being called crazy. Or, even worse, Fear of having to face that what I saw really happened. I never did hear anything. Eventually the summer came to an end, and I went back to California. Still, I couldn't forget what I’d seen. No matter how much I tried to.

Present day

I finished my story, realizing that tears were freely running down my cheeks.

“Fuck,” Angie said. “That’s-“

“Yeah. I-I’ve never told anyone that before,” I said quietly.

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. Seeing that, keeping that to yourself for this long.”

“I wish I hadn’t sometimes,” I said quietly.

We were both quiet. After several moments, Angie broke the silence.

“You don’t have to answer this, but…why on earth did you agree to work with Easton after that?”

I’d asked myself that same question thousands of times, and I had yet to find an actual answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “Face your fears, I guess?”

#g/t #giant/tiny #gt #gt writing

[topgunruinedme]

Screaming in Silence

Summary: If anyone asked Jake how four words had impacted his life, he wouldn't have been able to tell them.

FebWhump Prompt - Day 12: "Can you hear me?".

//

No one questioned Jake about his tattoo, he knew it was weird. It was unusual, worrying for people who didn't understand it. He had been asked to see a psychologist and he had seen the odd looks people give him.

But no one knew the significance behind those four words. The four words that had changed his life forever. The four words that had been the first thing that wasn’t shouted in abuse at him.

From the cop who gently pulled him out from under his bed and wrapped him in his own jacket.

‘Seresin’

The man who saved his life, who took him away from his abusive foster home, who adopted him and gave him a life he had once thought could only happen in a fairy tale. 

It all started with four words. “Can you hear me?”.

It started when he was 7. Hiding under his bed terrified as the police raided the house, his foster parents were screaming and flailing making a fuss. 

Jake held his breath as a pair of black boots stopped In front of his bed. He pressed himself back further against the wall. The shine of the flashlight the man was holding was pointed at the floor.

He watched in bated breaths as the man knelt down carefully and sucked his head under the bed.

Jake stared at him terrified, his chest caving under the stress of breathing and his heart pounded as every instinct in his body told him to run. To fight, to escape this hell he was trapped in. 

“Can you hear me?” The man asked gently with a small smile, he seemed generous perhaps if Jake was compliment he would receive less of a beating.

With a jolty head movement he nodded in his cramped space under the bed.

The man looked around before moving back, providing him more space between them.

Ensuring he didn’t feel crowded, Jake realized in awe.

“Hey bud, can you come out for me?” He asked softly, Jake watched the man lower the flashlight to see him more clearly. It was pointed away from him but the light still made him wince.

The cop grimaced “Sorry buddy, I can’t do much about that. I have to be able to see you”.

He shifted so he was down on his stomach copying Jake's position, urging the boy out softly, both of them attempting to ignore the yelling and sound of things crashing in the other room. It was slightly muffled, as the man extended a hand out to him.

Jake flinched, yanking himself away from the man watching the man tentatively for any movement that could hint towards the man hitting him. He found none. 

The man patiently waited for Jake to examine him before Jake shook his head at him, his eyes filled with terror, no he couldn’t go with him. They would take him, it would be worse, so much worse.

“No?” The officer asked “That's alright we can stay here”. He seemed almost laid back, keeping his hand extended out as an olive branch as he rested his chin on top of his hand just watching. Waiting. “My name is David Seresin, I’m an Officer for LAPD. What’s your name?”

Jake shifted uncomfortably “Jacob” he said quietly biting down the the feeling of a car to heavy tongue and cottonmouth,

“Jacob” David tilted his head “That’s a nice name, so you like it?” 

Thinking through all the abuse and names his fosters had screamed at him, he shook his head nervously. 

David smiled calmly at him “Would you rather me call you something else?”

“Jay?” He requested hesitantly. He had always been ‘Jacob’, ‘that boy’, ‘Foster’. He had never had a nickname before.

“Alright Jay, why don’t we get you out from under there now yeah?” David smiled, wiggling his fingers enticingly.

Hesitantly Jay reached out clawing their hand together letting David lead him out from Under the bed watching the man’s slow calculated movements carefully as the man helped him stand. Shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around him. It was heavy on his shoulders far too big, then again he was far too small for his age.

“Come on kid, let’s get you out of here” David wrapped an arm around him protectively as he led him out of the house that had housed his own personal hell.

He let David walk him out to a new leaf off his life. The better half, the half where David took him in and encouraged his love for flying. It was a slow process but he was there, every event, every graduation without fail, right up until he got shot in the line of duty. 

Jake stood in front of David’s body laying on a slab, his hand pulled back the sheet and brushed the stray lock of hair off his fathers check.

David always hated how wild his hair was, he was cold to the touch. He had gone out saving a friend, a colleague. Just as he would have wanted too, he had saved another person. 

It all started with 4 words, “Can you hear me?”.

#Implied/Referenced Child Abuse #child abuse #past child abuse #hurt/comfort #POV Jake “Hangman” Seresin #Hurt Jake “Hangman” Seresin #febwhump #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman angst

[moss-stars]

paranormal terrors

a short story assignment i did for school !

i also made poster art for this, you can see it here

1

July 12th, 2016. That was the day it all began. I remember seeing what I thought I saw a shadow figure, standing at the door to my room.. staring at me. I blinked and it was gone, I thought that I was perhaps hallucinating... but I wasn’t. Days, weeks, months, and now years. I’ve been experiencing paranormal stuff in my apartment, 3B, for about 3 years. No one believes me, except my best friend Enver. She lives next door to me, 3C, and I’m pretty sure she has had paranormal stuff happen in there too... but nowhere close to how bad I have it. But enough about the past, today is September 3rd, 2019, my birthday! I’m now 16... but I’m starting to feel weird about my body, like I don’t fit in it at all... my father has always called me his daughter. Though, I found out I feel more like a boy. Good thing I don’t live with my parents, they would flip out if I told them that. Anyways, I’m in bed, scrolling mindlessly on my phone, looking at videos. I couldn’t sleep, and it was close to midnight. Me and Enver had gone to our favorite spot, under the shade of the Birch tree at the park. It was a cool, autumn morning, and everything was going well. I recall talking about the paintings I had made the day before, as a vent piece, mostly, since I wasn’t feeling so good because I had my period, and that reminded me that I was originally a girl... I wish it would’ve never come again, but alas, it did. 

Then my phone started to ring. Why was Enver calling me at this ungodly hour? I hesitated, but decided to pick up.

  “Er... hi Enver, why are you calling me now?” I groaned.

“Haha, sorry River! I just got some ghost hunting devices, like a rem-pod, flashlights, cat balls, an EMF reader, all the good stuff. I was wondering if we could do an investigation in my room or yours? Unless you want to sleep, either is good!” She replied. 

“Alright... I guess we can do it in your room.”

 I was secretly excited about this. I love paranormal stuff, but I haven’t really had the chance to do ghost hunting, with my lack of materials. But still, I really hate that my room is haunted... I got off of my bed lazily, and put on my favorite sweater, and some sweatpants. I grabbed my keys and locked the door of my apartment once I’m out, and knocked on the door to Enver’s. She opened the door and ushered me in. I noticed the box of materials on the couch, my excitement rose a bit. I tried to keep it down, though.

Enver took out a rem-pod and placed it on a small table. I helped by placing a cat ball on her bed, and flashlights, both of which can be activated by a simple tap. I held an EMF reader, and Enver has her phone in her hands, on airplane mode so nothing would interfere, on that communicator app. Before we say anything, the app says “Savannah.” 

Enver gasped, “A name?! This quickly?” Then the rem-pod goes off, full grab. I shuddered. We are getting a lot of activity so far... 

“H-how many entities are in this room?” I nervously said. A flashlight turns on, and the app says “13 spirits.” The flashlight turns off. Then I jumped, freaking out because I could’ve sworn I heard a distorted voice, that almost sounded like... “River.” I tensed up.

“M-my name! I… why did it say my name..?” I croaked.

“I don’t know… River, just don’t let it get to you.” Enver replied.

“Okay…”

The rest of that night went by in a blur.. the two of us did experience some interesting things, like doing an EVP, in which we found out the names of some other spirits, like Darcy, Lucille, Zachary, and a few more. They all seemed to be mostly nice, but Savannah... that name feels familiar... I can’t put my finger on it, but I remember that name from somewhere..

I went into my apartment, and into my room, reminiscing about these events. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with this information.. what if it's the same case with my room? I sat on my bed and took out a notepad, to focus on something else. I wrote stuff that I needed to prioritize doing, also so I wouldn't forget about it. “Top surgery... either buying my own ghost hunting materials or borrowing Enver’s... Pursuing my art career... Learning to play the drums...” I murmured, scribbling the words on the paper. Can I really achieve all of these…? No… probably not. I thought. I closed the notepad, and shoved it under my pillow. Then I laid in bed, tossing and turning. I couldn’t sleep. The investigation was still in my head. Who is Savannah… and why can’t I remember who she is…? I must’ve been thinking for a long time, because I later drifted into slumber.

Let me tell you this: I had a rather odd dream, odd because I never have dreams anyway, but this one was unnerving... I woke up, in the dream, as Enver. The outfit she wore was the same one she wore the day before, a white dress with the sleeves being white mesh with small stars on it, and black boots. The area around was just a black, misty void. I felt queasy as voices whispered in my ears. It was very incoherent what the voices were saying. It went like this for... a while. Then everything went black. I couldn’t see Enver anywhere. I remembered that I was then startled by a large eye opening in the midst of the void. The pupil was dead black and soulless. I heard an actually intelligible voice, which said:

“She’s gone.”

2

And then I woke up, sweating and shaking. Gone..?! What could that mean? Maybe I shouldn’t worry about that.. I mean... it’s only a dream... right? I checked the time. I woke up right at the crack of dawn... Great. I sat up in my bed, and grabbed my phone. Enver... she called me five times, at exactly midnight. Oh no.. I got up, slid on my crocs, and frantically ran out of my apartment, to check on Enver. I knocked on her door, before I realized that the door wasn’t locked, and it opened easily. I peered inside, only seeing pitch black, and.. the same mist from the dream. I shivered, the air had become more cold, probably more cold than I was able to handle. And then, I felt an invisible force push me into the void.

“River... River! Wake up!” I heard a voice say, shaking me awake. As I opened my eyes, I saw a translucent spirit with long, wavy hair standing before me. I jumped, startled. The ground, if that’s what it even was, rippled like water under me.

“Who are you?!” I yelped.

“Girl,” The spirit said. I tensed at the word. I. Am. Not. A. GIRL! “calm down! I’m Savannah. In addition to feeling very much uncomfortable, I felt surprised. It’s her! I… How am I able to see her?! Savannah then extended a hand, which I hesitated to grab. 

“No thanks…” I stammered. Standing up, I took in the fact that I was actually in that same void from the dream I had, merely minutes ago. Savannah waved her hand in front of my face, causing me to snap out of my daze.

“Sorry,” I said fidgeting with my hands, “but also… where’s Enver?!”

“Right. Those demonic entities took Enver much deeper into the void than where we are right now. I’ll have to fly you down to get there.” Savannah explained. Demonic entities?! Oh no.. what am I getting myself into?  “But... there is one thing I need from you. The demonic entities are more dangerous for a living human, and since we can’t risk getting you killed, I need to transfer some of my power to you. I just nodded again. I get to have some of this spirit's power? I… oh god.

“We need to start now. Don’t move, and let me take the lead.” Savannah stated. She seemed really familiar to me, now that I noticed how tall and formal she was.. she also seemed the same age as me, 16..

Savannah interlocked her hands with mine, so suddenly that I flinched. Her eyes started to glow a pearly white, and I’m pretty sure that my eyes did the same. Her forehead touched mine, and I guess the transfer had begun at that point. We stood like that for what felt like ages, before Savannah let go of me, making me stumble. The audacity of this spirit! Jeez…

“It’s done. Let’s go save Enver!” Savannah exclaimed. I felt a force plunge me into the water-like floor. I screamed, but nothing came out.

The ride was very nauseating... We sank down so quickly, and that paired with just how deep the location Enver was at... you would not want to experience it. A few moments later, Savannah landed gracefully, meanwhile I had barely landed on my feet. 

“Keep close to me,” Savannah whispered, “we don’t want those entities to notice us right away. When they see us, run to Enver, I’ll distract the others.”

“A-alright,” I replied, still shaking.

We walked cautiously, to not make any noise. I could see what I was sure to be the demonic entities, crowded around something... No, someone... Enver! The entities noticed me and Savannah. They hissed and shouted, “ATTACK!” Entities swarmed around Savannah, in which she signaled me to get Enver, and to not worry about her. I ran as fast as I could. I saw Enver, I grabbed her hand.

“W-we need to get out of here, now!” I urgently whispered. Enver’s face was wet with tears, she just nodded, and held my hand tightly.

“Er.. oh god.. SAVANNAH, NOW!” I shouted. Savannah had told me that when I got to Enver, I had to signal her to send me and Enver back to Earth.

Savannah nodded, while fending off an entity with her bare hands. She raised her hand, and me and Enver floated up. Enver held onto me tightly, as Savannah screamed in agony.

Everything then went black.

I woke up on the ground, in Enver’s room. Enver was on the ground beside me, and she groggily sat up. Wait a minute.. we’re back! I’m back with Enver! But.. what about..

“What… happened to Savannah…?”

“I… I think she’s gone.. like, fully gone...” Enver wearily replied. At that moment, I realized who Savannah was.. I remember her. We were close friends, along with Enver and a few others. Savannah had died in a car crash about.. 5 years ago, when we were 11. I can’t believe that I forgot about her.. how could I? I felt a lump in my throat. Even though she was a bit rude… I was sad she was gone… forever. Enver hugged me, telling me to stay strong. And I did… well, at least I tried to.

3

I managed to heal from the… incident that  happened those 3 years. That day… September 4th, 2019. The day after my birthday. I still couldn’t forget about that fateful day. It made me believe in the paranormal even more than before. But it’s now January 19th, 2021… I couldn’t believe that it has been 2 years since it happened.

I looked outside. It was 4:37 pm, a somewhat windy afternoon, after it had rained, which was my favorite weather! I pulled on my binder, a grey sweater, green cargo pants, and my black combat boots. I quickly combed my hair a bit, which I had cut to chin-length after it grew out, and grabbed my backpack. I was going to hang out with Enver at the Birch tree, since today was January 14th… Savannah’s birthday. I stuffed my sketchbook, pencil, and pen in the bag, and picked up the bouquet of white flowers that I had bought previously. Running out of our dorm room, and locking it, I saw Enver, who was waiting for me.

“Took you long enough,” Enver chuckled, “let’s go!” Enver then grabbed my hand, and dragged me down the stairs.

Eventually, the two of us got to the Birch tree. I sat down, leaning against the tree, and pulled out my sketchbook, pencil, and pen. I started to draw Savannah. I remembered her short, two toned hair perfectly, and her favorite hoodie, so she was quite easy to draw. After some last touches, and outlining the art in pen, I was done with the portrait! I showed Enver, and she loved it, and we ate some ramen that we got from the nearby supermarket.

“Enver, should we stop by the cemetery? I mean, the sun is setting now..” I asked. Enver nodded, and I zipped up my bag, and grabbed the sketchbook and flowers. We walked to the cemetery, and we looked for Savannah’s grave.

“I found it!” Enver exclaimed, and I ran to where she was. The name on the grave said “Savannah Arren O’Carie” That’s definitely her grave.. I smiled sadly, and set down the flowers on the grave. I tore the drawing of Savannah out of my sketchbook, and also placed it on the grave. Enver set down her own bouquet of flowers, as well as a note we both made, and we both stood back up. Enver hugged me, and I hugged her back, as the wind blew lightly through our hair.

The note said, 

Wherever you are, Savannah, just know that we will always remember you, and that we miss you. Thank you for everything.

Love, Enver and River.

#writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing #short story #oc story #transgender #trans #transmasc #paranormal #ghost hunting #spirits #demonic entities #demonic entity

[sl-newsie]

Halloween Luck: Peter Parker x OC *Halloween Special* 🎃

Summary: Peter sees an old classmate taking her little brother trick-or-treating and joins them dressed as Spider-Man to give them protection… and to maybe ask her out. (Set after NWH).

Christy's POV

“Charlie! Are you ready yet?” I call from the bathroom. 

“All done!” Charlie runs in with a proud smile and shows off his costume: the web warrior himself, Spider-Man.

I finish my skeleton makeup and bend down to give him a hug. “You look fantastic, Charlie! Ready to get some candy?”

“Yeah! Do you think we’ll see Spider-Man tonight?”

It makes me smile how his excitement is not behind wanting to go trick-or-treating, but instead of wanting to catch a glimpse of the arachnid superhero.

“Maybe. It’s gonna be a busy night for Spider-Man. So let's focus on trick-or-treating for now, ok?”

Before we leave I pop in to check on dad, who’s still reviewing documents for tomorrow’s trial. Mom’s still working the late shift, so (as usual) I get to take Charlie around the neighborhood. Guess that’s what happens when your parents are a nurse and a lawyer.

“We’ll be back at 9,” I say in a soft voice.

Dad doesn’t even look up. “Have fun, kids.”

I bite my lip and walk back down the hall to Charlie, who’s looking out the window.

“It’s a full moon! We won’t need flashlights!”

I shake my head. “You know the rules, Charlie. We always carry flashlights.” Over my dead body will I let my little brother become a victim to whatever thugs are out there.

We skip down the stairs and as soon as Charlie sees the Halloween activity buzzing down the street his eyes light up.

“Look, Christy! There’s a giant pumpkin!” He points over at a massive Halloween display, one that the Police Department puts up every year. This year they’ve added a giant pumpkin with disco lights.

“We’ll have to tell Chief Snyder he made a good choice. Now let's get some candy!”

Charlie squeals and starts racing down the street, dragging me behind and making me nearly trip over a jack-o-lantern. 

“Charlie, slow down! We gotta stay on this street-!”

But it’s too late. Charlie’s pulled us into a dark alley, the very place I did not want to go, and we’ve already caught the interest of a typical druggie.

“Hiya, kid. Why don’t you and the chick hang with me for a bit? I got ya something even better than candy.” I can’t tell if he’s stoned or if his voice is supposed to sound that evil, but it’s giving me chills.

I pull Charlie closer and start leading him away. “No thanks, we’re fine.”

But the creep stands up and pulls out a knife, making my blood go cold. “That weren’t a request, sweetheart.”

Peter’s POV

I gotta admit, Halloween is definitely my favorite time of year! I mean, people wearing masks and it’s normal? Spider-Man blends in no problem! Unfortunately it means I have to be on night patrol to keep watch for out-of-hand Halloween mischief, but it’s fun to see everyone all dressed up. It’s 8:30 and it’s been quiet, making me hopeful that I can clock out early. But I guess that’ll have to wait, ‘cause right now I’m about to stop a mugger who looks way too greedy for more than candy.

“Hey creep, if you want candy you gotta wear a costume!” I call as I swing around and web him up against the wall. “Don’t worry, you won’t be hanging for long. The cops are about to join the party!” The criminal squirms under the webbing and I quickly usher the two bystanders out of the dark alley, and it’s then that I realize I know who the skeleton girl is- or at least, used to know her. After the whole mind-erase scenario it’s kinda hard to remember that no one knows me. I think her name’s Christine- she was in my microbiology class. And if I remember right, she’s really nice. Last I knew she was going to college to become a nurse. Maybe-

No, no! Don’t get your hopes up, Parker! There’s a reason nobody’s supposed to know you, remember? 

But I can’t help it. It’s been almost a year since Dr. Strange casted the spell, and I can’t help but feel lonely being by myself in my cramped apartment. I’ve kept tabs on MJ and Ned, and they’ve been safe and well without me to ruin things. But knock on wood the past year’s crime rate has been slow, and going on a small date with someone can’t be too risky, right? Christy may not remember me, but maybe she’ll still like me? But I can’t say anything now, first I gotta get outta this suit.

Christy’s POV

Of course I’d seen Spider-Man on TV, but never have I thought that I’d actually get to see him face-to-face. My nerves clench just at the thought of it. Not because I think he’s the reckless weirdo that Jameson makes him out to be, but because meeting the marvelous hero seems too good to be true. 

But of course Charlie can’t help but gush all over the situation.

“Oh my gosh! It’s Spider-Man! I told you we’d see him!”

“Y-Yes, but I never thought it'd be this close up…” I stick out a shaking hand and try to seem polite. “Pleasure to meet you. Th- Thank you so much for saving Charlie, he means everything to me.”

“You were in danger yourself, miss.” The masked hero jumps down from a lamppost and shakes my hand. God is this real? “I’ll escort you both back to safety, ok?”

I can’t find words, so I just nod and allow him to lead us back into the street. When we’re once again surrounded by fellow neighbors I turn to say one last thank-you to the mighty Avenger.

“I know tonight must be busy for you, so thanks so much for looking out for us, for everyone. I know you’re not a menace, and I really wish others would see that too. But I won’t distract you any longer, I can get Charlie home from here.”

Spider-Man hesitates, then shakes his head and chuckles. “Actually the night’s been pretty slow. I’m just happy to be of service! Thanks for the support, I really appreciate it.”

Charlie giggles and holds up a pen from his bag. “Spider-Man, will you sign my mask?”

I imagine the masked hero is smiling under his mask because he gladly takes the pen and signs Charlie’s mask, making my admiration of him grow even more. When he’s finished I hold up a Snicker's bar from my candy bag.

"Here, it's the least I can do for how much you do for us."

“Wow, thanks!" He takes it and gives Charlie and me a salute. "See ya around the neighborhood!”

After he’s swung off (wow, just- wow!) I grasp Charlie’s hand and start leading him back home.

“Charlie, could you please not tell Mom or Dad about that? They keep a tight leash on us as it is, and I actually wanna be able to avoid being trapped at home any more than I have to.”

“I promise!” The boy chants in a singsong voice as he admires his signed mask. “This is the best Halloween ever!”

I squat down and give him a big hug. “Glad you had fun, kiddo.”

“Excuse me, did you drop this?” Someone behind me asks.

Turning around, I see a stranger wearing a navy coat, jeans, sneakers, and a patterned stocking cap. What sets him apart is his boyish face, one that holds an aged and mature expression, as if he’s a young adult with an old man’s wisdom. A look like that makes me think he’s been through a lot, but I don’t feel threatened. His soft brown eyes give promise and comfort that I decide to trust.

A stranger… yet why do I feel like he’s not? It’s strange but the man seems familiar, like an old friend. I get so lost in thought that I almost forget to address his question.

“Sorry, what?”

“Is this yours?” He holds up a red scarf and my eyes widen as I take it from him.

“Yes! It’s my mom’s! Thank you so much, sir!”

He smiles politely and tilts his head, an adorable and charming expression if I do say so. “Hey, um- you’re Christine, right? I’ve seen you at the library before.”

“When I wanna be professional. Right now I’m Christy, fun big sis of this little devil,” I snicker as I ruffle Charlie's hair. “And your name is…?”

The man extends a hand and we shake (even the handshake is familiar!). “I’m Peter, Peter Parker. I live a few blocks over, so that’s why I recognized you. I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Charlie grins up at Peter. “I’m Charlie! I’m 7!”

Peter kneels down and gives Charlie a high-five. “7? Wow you’re getting old, Charlie! Did you have a good Halloween?”

He nods eagerly. “Yeah! We met Spider-Man! He signed my mask and everything!”

“Wow, that is exciting!”

Peter’s kindness to Charlie makes my heart melt a little, but I know I need to talk to him privately now.

“Charlie, why don’t you run up and start getting ready for bed? I’ll be up in 10 minutes.” Charlie nods and dashes through the apartment door. “And no overdosing on candy!” I call up, then turn back to Peter. “I’m sorry- do I know you? I’m sure this sounds weird but I swear I’ve seen you before.”

Peter gets an unreadable look in his eye and his mouth presses into a thin line. “I- I don’t think we’ve ever met properly, I’ve just seen you around is all. A- And if you’re not busy maybe you’d wanna, I donno… Go to the park? It’s chilly but the fresh air’s really nice.”

Normally I’d be more skeptical of situations like this, but like I said before there’s something familiar about Peter. His adorable proposal makes my heart flutter and almost nearly forget about the anxiety I’d felt earlier tonight. 

“Are you asking… like as a friend?” I ask nervously, being new to this whole ‘dating language.’

Peter scratches his head and fights his nerves to keep from looking away. “Um, yeah. And if things work out well, maybe then it could be more like a date?”

Using my social knowledge I try to read his actions. He’s gone through dating rituals before, but not enough to be considered a ‘player’ or have enough experience. Maybe only one or two? This means that I won’t be just a one-time fling and that he’s serious.

“Yeah, I’d like that. You don’t mind me ranting about Star Wars movies, do you?”

Peter’s face lights up as if I’d just offered him chocolate. “I think that sounds wonderful! Are you free Friday, maybe at 5?”

“5 sounds perfect!”

"O-Ok! Um, see ya then!" Peter smiles and gives a quick wave before strolling off down the bustling street, leaving me wondering about the past eventful 10 minutes.

Who’d-a thought? I got to meet Spider-Man and get asked out on a date in the same night!

Peter’s POV

Ok so technically I did swipe Christy’s scarf, but only as a reason to return it and introduce myself. When she kept praising me as Spider-Man it made me smile to think that not everyone thinks I’m the threat the news makes me out to be, and grateful that maybe she feels the same way I do. My life can never be normal, but maybe I can be given some luck to be happy? The best thing to do now is to take Christine on a fun, comfortable date so she can be happy too. Friday can’t get here soon enough!

#spider man x reader #spider man #peter parker #no way home #halloween #trick or treat #peter parker x reader #the avengers #tom holland spiderman #spider man fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[t0tally-n0t-3m0]

My English teacher is making us write and record a script and he let me write a fake statement and record it as if i was an assistant in The Magnus Institute archives and this is the script. my name is X'd out for obvious reasons.

Assistant

Is it on?...

Right, okay (clear throat)

My name is XXXX XXXXXX. I am an assistant archivist at The Magnus Institute. I'm taking over for the head archivist as he is away in China doing… something... Anyway, not important. Okay, let's get on with it.

Statement of Miss Teagan Mills, regarding her fear of the dark. Original statement given 17th of November, 2012.

Audio Recording by Isla Murphy, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute, London. 

Statement begins. 

Assistant [Statement]

This happened a few years ago, I was 16 at the time. My older sister, Lauren,  had this group of friends that I desperately wanted to be a part of. I was willing to do almost anything to be accepted by them, and they liked to take advantage of that. One night, while my parents were out, Lauren invited her friends over to stay the night. And I wanted to hang out with them. Lauren said I could but I had to be ‘initiated’ first. 

There was a forest behind our house at the time and I was terrified of it. Lauren knew this. 

She said that if I wanted to hang out with her and her friends I needed to walk to the middle of the forest and back with only a small flashlight. 

We followed Lauren to the forest in the dark and stopped right at the tree line. Luaren handed me the flashlight and shoved me towards the trees. I think she was expecting me to chicken out. But I didn't, I held my head up high and decided to face my fears.

I was walking for around five minutes or so before I heard a snap behind me. I turned around but there was nothing there. I heard another snap, closer this time, and then my flashlight went out and everything was pitch black.

I remember hearing a growl from somewhere near me, that's when I dropped my flashlight and started running. Something was following me as I ran. I bit down my fear and turned around. It was like a shadow of a wolf, pitch black with red eyes, and it was big. 

I tripped over a root that was sticking out of the ground and landed hard on my wrist, breaking it. I turned over onto my back and it was right on top of me. It was growling and drooling this black ink-like stuff. I started kicking at its nose trying to keep it away from me. I grabbed a stick with my still-working hand and I stabbed it in the eye. It whimpered and whined and growled like something that was trying to be a dog but couldn't get the hang of it. I got back to my feet and ran away again.

 I don't know how long I ran but eventually I made it to the other side of the forest. The sun was just coming up when I made it back home. Lauren was at the front door with her friends. She said I looked like a mess. I was too mentally checked out at that point to care.  

I'm not scared of the dark anymore. but I find myself avoiding heavily wooded areas if I can. 

Assistant

[Slightly breathless] Uh.. okay.. Uhm s-statement ends..

 I reached out to Mr. and Mrs. Mills, to follow up on this statement, turns out that Teagan passed away exactly six months after this statement was given. She was found on the side of a road not far from her place of work. Her corpse was barely recognizable, with bite and claw marks similar to those of a large canine. The police concluded it was just a particularly brutal dog attack, but, the thick, black substance that was found leaking from Ms.Teagans eyes, ears, mouth and injuries leads me to believe the cause of death was a lot more…sinister. Her sister, Lauran also disappeared a year after her sister's passing. The only note-worthy thing to mention about her disappearance is that when the police searched her flat they found that all sources of light in the flat had been obstructed or destroyed. Light bulbs shattered, light switches covered, windows blacked out. 

That's all the information Mr. and Mrs.Mills were willing to give me and I doubt it would be smart to go investigating their old residents so, Recording Ends.

(Recording clicks off)

#the magnus archives #the magnus pod #tma #creative writing #fake statement tma #fan statement #fan writing

[fredoncio]

🐻✨``FNAF x Reader part 1``✨🍕

🐻🔦

⚠️Warnings⚠️ It may contain blood, violence, trauma, fnaf is not my creation, the drawings and music that appear are not mine, it contains anguish, and terror, a little comedy, maybe there are some romances, just maybe

It was getting dark, your parents left the house to eat at a restaurant together, you were lying in bed with headphones listening to music, you had dark circles under your eyes, You never forgave yourself for the day your brother disappeared, you felt that it was somehow your fault, because you had fought with him before and treated him badly, You hate that damn pizzeria, you remember your little brother running out crying. You were lying down, you decided to find out more about these disappearances, About the disappearance of his little brother, he decided that he would search and unravel everything and find out who the DAMN person was who did this to him, You wouldn't give up, you get out of bed, put on a sweatshirt, grab a flashlight and decide to invade the pizzeria, you leave the house, after walking a few kilometers, you arrive at the pizzeria when you pull up to the door it's open, you go in it's all a bit dark but no problem! You have your flashlight! You turn on your flashlight and walk around, you soon see the Animatronics standing on the stage, you start walking through the pizzeria, after a few minutes of walking Finding almost no clues, you are in the party part and there were some arcades, when you hear footsteps.

You: "an?, what the fuck?-" You whisper to yourself when you see Foxy! Walking alone?! You get scared, you run and hide behind one of the arcades, you stay crouched feeling very scared, your heart beating fast, But when you do it in this quick movement you end up making a noise, the Fox looks at your ear and moves, he walks towards the arcade, well...he knows you're there...There is silence, when Foxy with his hook starts to break each of the arcades, you crawl, he continues breaking each of them, the glass shattering, shards of glass being thrown into the air, Your heart beating too fast, Foxy arrives at the last, and with his hook he breaks the arcade, wires fall everywhere and glass shatters, foxy looks at you his yellow eye shines, he again raises his hook to To take a swing at you

You: "FUCK!" You scream, you manage to dodge, you get up and run away, foxy soon starts running after you

You: "Shit, shit, shit, shit" You run a lot, you see a room, you immediately enter and close the iron door, you breathe quickly, panting

You: "What the fuck was that?!" You say to yourself, feeling in a state of panic, your heart beats very fast as if it were going to jump out, you breathe heavily, you calm down a little by taking a deep breath, when...You hear a voice behind you, you turn and raise your eyebrow

???: "....who are you?" The guy says, He's a guy with dark brown hair, brown eyes, He has a thin beard and a thin mustache too, There are dark circles too, wearing a white shirt with a black coat with light gray sleeves, on one side of the coat written "Security", he looks confused, He also raises his eyebrow

You: "uhhh....my name is Y/N..." You say, a little embarrassed by the situation

???: "Why are you here? You don't look like someone authorized, my name is Mike and I'm the security guard of the place...know it's very VERY dangerous here at night..." Mike says and he gets up from his chair

You: "yeah....I know I'm not authorized, but I came here because I'm investigating some things, I'm looking for someone very important to me, My brother" You say honestly and kind of sad

Mike: "His brother? Wow...that's sad, I have a little sister named Abby...I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to her, I will help you find it" He says with compassion and being serious

You: "Really!? Really!? Thank you very much! I can't do this alone, besides finding my brother I'm going to try to unravel the mysteries of this place, And kick those Animatronics' butts!" you say confidently

Mike: "Come on then" He says laughing a little at his final sentence, and nods his head

END OF CHAPTER! 🐻🍕✨

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby fnaf #foxy the pirate #chica #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny