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sadesluvr · 5 months

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Guilty - William Afton x Reader

To be a lawyer is to adhere to a strict code of ethics.

A/N: Slight AU, but not really. This is kind of tame compared to other William fics I have planned, but I thought it’d be fun to make Reader more dominant and less innocent than usual! This has a bit of build up, but it pays off ofc ;) You can imagine William to be in his 40s/50s like he is in the movie, or 30s as he would’ve been during his killing spree.

Word count: 2.6K

Tags: SMUT / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20s) / Sexual tension / Hybristophilia / Power play (Kinda) / Fearplay (If you squint) / Clothed sex / Unprotected sex / Mutual consent / Dirty talk / Discussion of murder / Mentions of cheating

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was in a mess. A bunch of children had just gone missing - presumed dead - and there were even rumblings of a lawsuit from the victims’ families. It certainly wasn’t the case an up-and-coming lawyer usually received, but had the potential to be the one that cemented your career.

“I must say, I’m rather surprised you chose me to help you out,” you said to the man who was sitting at the table as you closed the door behind you. Your office was by no means large, but it was sizable enough to make you feel important.

“Why’s that?” He asked, cocking his head, his brows raising above the rims of his glasses. You’d done your pre reading; the man’s name was William Afton, a humble businessman who’d started the pizzeria and had come to you for help. He seemed well meaning enough.

“Well,” you began, adjusting your skirt as you sat down, “I’m not the typical face you’d imagine when picturing a bloodthirsty lawyer. Especially someone like you…”You said carefully. It was no secret that men either overlooked you, or went out of their way to hire you for your ‘assets’. “I find they’re usually set in their ways about having a woman deal with their issues,”

The man shrugged, a small smirk creeping to the side of his face.

“Doesn’t bother me. I have a daughter of my own,”

“Oh,” you smiled, pushing your chair in as you fixed the paperwork around you. “Is she…?”

“She’s a little younger than you,” he said simply. “I make it a mission to practise what I preach at home,”

You smiled, and he smiled back, his skin wrinkling ever so slightly around his eyes and sides of his mouth. He was put together and certainly likeable; only driving you to want to help him out even more. you were quite comfortable, which was good as it was likely that the rest of the office, bar the receptionist and the interns, would file out over time, leaving you alone with him in your assigned wing.

“I suppose we should get started. First — Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“…In conclusion, I suggest you speak to this PR rep, he’s excellent,” you said, sliding a card across the table. “For now, our plan is to go ahead with the statement, and hold off on any retaliation,” you continued, making a few notes as you did. “Cooperate with the police, and let me handle things — But, if there’s anything I should know, it’s best you tell me…” you finished, looking up at him from across the table, your eyes meeting his own blue ones.

William smirked. His focus on the task had dwindled in and out over the past hour and a half, having watched the way you explained things with striking confidence, yet bit your pen childishly before writing things down. He couldn’t help but admire a woman with confidence, and it certainly helped that it wasn’t misplaced. You were good at your job. Perhaps too good.

He wondered how you’d ended up here. Young, attractive, yet closed off in a building with stuffy businessmen on a Friday night. You should’ve been at the club; dressed in your sluttiest attire, making out with random guys whilst you split Margaritas on yourself, eventually taking them back home and fucking their brains off. He wondered if you were the dominant or submissive type; if you liked to take charge and ride in cowgirl position, or into the classic missionary, arms above your head as you moan and whimper for more. You might’ve been good at your job, but it was impossible that you hadn’t fucked any of the seniors in the office during your time.

More importantly, he wondered if you’d ever slept with your clients. After all, it wasn’t as if they were in his calibre; likely some shady businessmen who’d moved a few pots of money around, or middle-aged men moaning about real estate - none notable enough to ruin your reputation.

This was much different. Far different.

You didn’t know it, but you were face to face with a killer.

“Such as?” he hummed. Of course he knew what you meant, but he just wanted to hear you say it.

“…Anything that could damage your validity should there be a trial,” you said, sitting back in your seat. “Forged bank documents, hoarding evidence, an admission of guilt…”

“You think I had something to do with it?”

You paused, somewhat taken aback by how abrupt he was. Usually people reacted dramatically to accusations (especially ones as callous as this), and yet he was eerily calm, barely even flinching at the mention. It intrigued you, but more disturbingly it made you horny.

“I never said that,” you shrugged, trying to compose yourself. “But, if you did, it could change this situation entirely. Your wife, your daughter - the public - will look at you very differently,”

William chuckled, his leg beginning to bounce in excitement. The mention of his family was quite the mood killer, and yet you acknowledging them turned him on. They weren’t really any more than tools to look like a convincing family-friendly businessman, and yet you seemingly bought into it. In terms of the public, well, he had a big ego for sure, but his libido was bigger. Throbbing, even.

“And what about you?” He said, leaning in and placing his hands under his chin, grinning at the way you shifted under his gaze. It was time to turn the tables.

“Excuse me?” you choked, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in your stomach. There was something in the way that he smiled at you, like he was getting some kind of satisfaction from making you squirm. Perhaps you’d been wrong about him. Perhaps there was something deeper.

“Will you look at me any differently?” he insisted. You paused for a moment before shaking your head.

“Absolutely not, Mr Afton. It’s my duty to be impartial,”

So prim and proper. It was time to blur the boundaries.

“Tch,” he scoffed before bursting into laughter. “Come on! That’s what they all say. It’s human nature to judge,”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your leg over the other as you began to drum your fingertips on your desk impatiently. This was usually the part where whoever you were talking to stopped to talk down to you. William could tell you were agitated, and he loved the way your brows were beginning to furrow and lips scrunch into a pout. He wondered how they tasted. Much more how they felt.

“It’s also human nature to feel discomfort when running over time,” you snapped, closing your files with haste. “This session is over, Mr Afton,”

So feisty. Repression had clearly done a number on you.

It was a blatant sign for him to move on, and yet he remained firmly in his seat, watching as you got up to put your files away, skirt slightly crumpled around your legs from how long you’d been sitting. You noticed this and pulled it down, turning to face the man yet again and leaning over the table, palms flat as you rested your hands on either side.

You were rather close to him, and if anyone walked in it would seem sketchy. It didn’t help that he was quite handsome; with rugged yet refined features, a slowly greying goatee and bright eyes that were somewhat hidden by his large glasses. The longer that you stared at him, the more you felt weakened under his gaze.

“Can I help you, Mr Afton?”

“You can,” he said, and you raised a brow for him to continue. He felt his cock begin to harden and heart beat as he worked his way up to the moment. Yes, you were a lawyer, but the circumstances meant that you were game to react rather abruptly.

A killer and a lawyer in an empty wing, just after hours - doors shut with no one to hear a scream? It was the perfect scenario for a crime.

“I have something to declare…” he began, and he could barely contain his smile as you raised your brows, mouth slowly falling agape and body subtly recoiling. As if in a trance, you lowered your head further, the eye contact so intense that you could feel a tingle throughout each others’ bodies. You were 90% certain he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.

“…Go on,”

“I think you know what it is,”

With a slow blink, as you tried to ground yourself. You could’ve vomited. In your eyes, murder was a grey area in the realm of self defence, but children were always off limits.

He didn’t even seem to care. He seemed amused, actually.

“O-Okay,” you whispered, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to revisit this with fresh eyes in the morning —“

You were so painfully uncomfortable, and yet part of you was aroused. Perhaps it was because you’d never encountered an actual killer, or it was because you were incredibly aware of the blatant fantasy being played out from both sides. He was a wolf; a hunter, bigger and stronger than you and waiting to ravish you like prey.

You were dedicated to holding up the law, fighting for what was fair like a good girl, but sometimes good girls needed to be ravished.

“— What do you think, Miss L/N?” he teased, standing up to match you. “Am I a dead man?”

“No…” you whispered. “I’m going to do what I can…”

“Good,” he smiled, backing away from the desk, the outline of his bulge illuminated from the dimming lights. “That’s why I chose you,”

You gave an awkward nod, haphazardly rushing to hold the door open for him to leave. You held your head down as he passed, and squeezed your eyes shut as you realised he’d stopped in front of you.

Your bodies were painfully close in the tiny doorway. William grinned, and he knew he had you from the moment you looked up at him through your lashes.

“…Are you going to kill me?”

“Not unless you want me to,”

Your lips were on each other in a heartbeat, your hands immediately finding the door and slamming it shut before focusing your attention on the killer at your feet. He wasted no time in effortlessly hoisting you up around his waist, his large hands firm on your hips and thighs as he held you steady, stumbling to find your desk. You returned the favour by holding onto his neck and beginning to grind yourself against his cock, your skirt riding up in the process.

“I bet you’re real happy I walked through those doors, aren’t you?” He teased. “How long have you been waiting for a fucked up guy like me, hmm?” he said, crudely sticking his fingers inside your panties as he placed you on the desk. He grunted at the sensation of your wet heat, hungry as he stuck a third finger inside without warning or hesitation. They were lithe and calloused, and seemed to hit your core immediately upon penetration, causing you to let out a moan.

“I never –” you began, barely unable to form a sentence. “This is nothing —” you insisted, lips leaving his own as you began to fumble with his belt, cupping him through his pants. He was painfully hard. And big. Bigger than most guys your age. “— Just a formality,”

William scoffed, unable to hide his lascivious smile as he began pumping in and out of you, your lips swallowing him to just below his knuckles. Against the creaking of the desk and desperate pants you could hear the wet sound of your juices coating his fingers, sticky and copious as his motions continued; rough yet controlled.

To think, they were the same hands that had murdered all those kids…

You’d taken out his cock now and was massaging the organ in your hands, causing him to hollow out his cheeks, sighing at the contact. It was over five inches, and considerably thick, with a long blue vein running along its underside. As you stroked him, a healthy secretion of precum coated your fingers, indirectly lubing him up further. His thrusts were lazy but needy as he fucked your hand, and with every movement you worked together to guide his cock to your entrance, his bulging tip teasing your folds.

“Fuck,” he whispered, throwing his head back. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you? Naughty girl, you know this goes against your ‘ethics’...” he teased again, and you could barely formulate an answer as his body was now almost completely on top of yours, your back arching as you stabilised yourself with your free hand on the desk.

He chuckled, reaching down to grip the base of his cock as he lined himself at your entrance. For a moment your hands touched, and the excessive hairs and slight wrinkles reminded you of just how much older he was.

“Fuck ethics,” you moaned, and his grin deepened, to the point he was baring teeth. You couldn’t take it anymore, and you were beginning to lose your grip on your panties as you held them to the side.

Next time he should just rip them off.

“William…” you moaned. “Please…”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he laughed, and thrust himself into you, rutting into you like a rabbit. To him the sensation was euphoric, it had been a long time since he’d fucked a fresh pussy, and admittedly his wife was getting rather stale. You were so tight and melded perfectly around him, but most of all you were eager, even if your morals were blatantly backwards.

William’s cock filled you completely, repeatedly hitting the untouched crevices of your cunt that you hadn’t even known existed. He was big, skilled and oh-so painfully perfect - Perfectly bad for you. You could get disbarred, your public reputation ruined, much like the narrative of the man inside you - but with every thrust that drew deeper into your pussy and lustful kiss to your neck and lips none of it seemed to matter. His large hands cupped your sides, moving between your breasts and thighs as he groped and massaged; most importantly making sure that you remained spread wide and available for him as his clothed thighs hit against yours repeatedly. You were high; so high that you barely acknowledged the wedding ring on his left finger, even if you could feel it through the thin material of your blouse.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunted. “I haven’t fucked a pussy like this in ages. You and I are gonna make such a good team — Ugh — I knew there was a reason I chose you…”

“Fuck…” you groaned. “W-William…”

“Does it bother you that I hurt those kids?” he snarled, beginning to feel his stomach knot up.

You were too lost in your ecstasy to answer.

Did it?

“…Tut, tut. You said you wouldn’t judge me, sweetheart,” he chided. “We were getting along so well…”

“We are. I’m gonna help you,” you said determinedly, eyes unable to shift from his own. You were close.

“I know you are,” he hummed, letting out an intermittent groan as he shut his eyes. “You have no choice. You’re just as guilty as me,”

There was something about those words that immediately sent you over the edge, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a pornographic moan as you came, your body twinging as the man held your thighs apart, making sure you felt every inch of your shared ecstasy. William had barely found it in him to pull out on time, his heavy load painting a mess on your panties and thighs, but leaving a small trail of cum along the outer lips of your pussy, a subtle but telling reminder of what had happened.

Fixing your crumpled shirt and skirt, you adjusted yourself before hopping off of the desk, hands clasped in front of you.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. You were surprised it wasn’t sore from your incessant moans. “I’d like to see you at the same time tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

@yellowbunnydreams @lonelyaxolotl13

#florence writes!!#william afton x reader #william afton x reader smut #william afton smut #steve raglan x reader #florence_nomachine #steve raglan smut

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vexy-hexy · 6 months

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I hope this isn't a hot take, but Scott Cawthon is a shitty writer

The reason the lore makes no fucking sense is because he just randomly adds or retcons things with no explanation and, at this point, I think he just enjoys watching people (especially MatPat) go crazy theorizing

Like, the man may as well have confirmed dream theory a few years ago, only to go "wait, never mind, here’s Sister Location and everything is real, I promise"

I doubt even Scott understands his own story because it was written with the same grace and talent as an edgy middle school kid trying to write the next Jeff the Killer, so they shove everything they think is cool into the story, whether or not it fits

People say "oh, he didn't realize it would be more than (however many) games. He didn't plan that far ahead," but that excuse should only get you so far when you are writing a story

It's pretty clear that after at least game 4 (some say game 3, so I'm being nice), he stopped caring about the story and began just duct taping things he thought were interesting into a story that could've been wrapped up with MAYBE 5 games (1, 2, 3, 4, and pizzeria Sim with something in the other four to explain Baby and Molten Freddy, or get rid of them, I don't care), but instead it's a cluster fuck of weird details that DON’T MAKE SENSE

Look, I think a lot of us, myself included, can sometimes confuse a good CONCEPT with a good STORY

The storytelling of FNAF is dog shit, but the concept is just SO good, which is why people like the FNAF VHS tapes so much: these people are able to take a terrifying and interesting concept and make a truly good implied horror story with it in the way Scott NEVER could

And don't get me started on the books: First, they're not canon, then they're canon, but also, some stories may only be canon in another alternate universe or something, but if you actually want to understand something, you need to read some of the books

Your story should not have to be told across multiple different media for it to be even SLIGHTLY coherent. It's fine if you want to add in details that aren't too important to understanding the entire thing (like, we don't specifically need to know the names of each kid William killed, but it's a cool fact to know. Or maybe expand on how Freddy's and the incidents affected different people), but, as cool as it was, Golden Freddy being possessed by two children is a pretty crucial point to the rest of the series to be in just some activity book that so easily could've been overlooked as something fun to do related to FNAF (IMO)

Not to mention, we apparently can't even agree on the name of the Crying Child who, I think, was the catalyst for this entire story (because we can't even seem to agree if Elizabeth or CC died first)

TL;DR FNAF is a great concept, and it's been shown that it can make a great story by people who are much more skilled than Scott Cawthon (or maybe they just care more about this series than it's own creator, I don't fucking know)

Also, sorry if I'm incoherent or get anything wrong, I typed this while I was incredibly tired, but I did try to edit it as much as I could the past few days

#fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf games #fnaf rant #rant #rant post #vent #scott cawthon #sorry but I've been hold this in for so long #I'm scared of the reactions I may get #fnaf vhs

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 11 months

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Switching gears since I recently refamiliarized myself with your character list...any general romantic HCs for Deadpool?

"Merc with the Mouth romance HCs" Deadpool x reader

Hey I've haven't gotten to do Deadpool yet! This is fun! I'll do sfw and nsfw.

Tw: Suggestive and smut, SA mention

Sfw:

His dates are not always Good or Safe but they are always Memorable. Someone is trying to kill him every other week. Either because he pissed them or ruined their plans. You'll be fine, just don't be shocked when he gets his hand blown off and kills several men when you were just trying to have a nice night out. You can bond while it grows back.

If you ever needed someone to enable your nerdy habits, look no further. He maims people who spoil the newest book, he'll sit through hours and hours of marathons, and he thinks it's very sexy that you know fun facts and behind the scenes details. Now put on Lord of the Rings and make out with him during the Gollum scenes.

So many dumb emoji texts. Like a huge string of emojis with all the different hearts in different color formations- rainbows, sexuality flags that match what yours might be. And sweat drops. And... cactus emoji? It definitely means something and it's meant to be affectionate, just roll with it.

He's that guy who takes you to your favorite restaurant just because he can. There's nothing special going on. He just wants to spoil you and really loves seeing you smile. Then a massage for you and maybe a bubble bath-

The stupid antics he will get to so you'll to laugh. Particularly if you're having a bad day, he will get downright slapstick if it will bring you a little bit of joy. Someone could argue it's a personality fault where he feels he has to be entertaining to have value to you, but maybe right now isn't the time to unpack that.

Nsfw:

Down for pretty much anything. Seriously. Tie him up, put him in a dress, peg him sideways- He'll try anything at least twice to see if he likes it.

the only thing that is an absolute no for him is CNC (consensual non-consent) or anything in that vein because of being a canonical SA survivor. I know I don't really write for that anyways, but I think it bears mentioning given his character and past.

Man has little to no shame so if you're not into public space fucking, you should let him know early on. He will get it on in the alleyway behind the taco shack. Tacos just get him feeling frisky sometimes, you understand.

The very definition of a switch. His playful nature allows him to slip to a submissive role easily even if people who don't know him take any of his comments seriously. He's dead-ass, use him like a toy and tell him how breedable he is if you're into that <3 He's also more than willing to take the reins and top or be in a dominant role if that's your preference. If you're also a switch you guys can just take turns depending on the move.

he's incredibly self-conscious in serious, intimate moments about his body. Particularly the first time. Okay, this is him, scarred up and looking like a fucked up Freddy Krueger. You sure you still want... this? He can put his clothes back on and he can do stuff to just you if you'd rather. Or he can turn the lights off... or...

It's so much easier to joke around than have to acknowledge he really looks like this. Once you've been together a minute, though, he'll realize you really do love his sexy ass.

#deadpool #deadpool x reader #foxwriting #smut

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 17)

Previous Part

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Polly deals with some business back in Birmingham while (Y/N) sorts out things with her mother in Sheffield. Something happens before Tommy and (Y/N) are able to come home.

Warnings: mentions of smoking, mentions of threats to kill someone

Word Count: 3915

A/N: here comes the fallout of the previous chapter. I hope everything makes sense once you’ve read it. Also I’ve included the ‘sooner’ results of that one poll I posted…I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged - there are 3 parts left!

Grace was busy wiping down the tabletops inside the empty Garrison tavern. She hated that she could only really clean once the place was empty, and that she now had to carry the entire burden as (Y/N) was off in Sheffield. She decided that she'd actually get to cleaning when her preliminary search of the offices for any more information came up empty. She didn't expect the sound of the side door opening to ring out in the otherwise quiet room.

"We're closed," she called to whoever it was that entered the establishment, not caring enough to look up from what she was doing.

"Oh I know," the voice that responded made her eyes snap up in seconds. Polly Gray was standing in the doorway, eyes already locked on her target.

"Polly," the name left Grace's lips like a gasp, "wha...what are you doing here?"

"I think you know what I'm doing here," Polly's answer was curt.

Grace knew exactly what she meant without having to be told though. It felt like her stomach dropped at the words, and immediately she began to scramble for what she'd say next while hoping that she still looked composed.

Polly spoke first though. "I was going to wait and see if Tommy figured this out or if he was told about it," she began, speaking slowly to let the other woman know that she was in charge of this conversation.

"It seems that he hasn't," Grace took Polly's pause as a time to interject a statement, tipping her chin slightly upwards (in hopes) to show that the statement rolled off of her back.

"Oh I know that," Polly was quick with the counter, "and I was going to let it go until he did figure things out..." she paused, looking the blonde woman up and down before her eyes narrowed slightly, "but then you brought (Y/N) into this when she never should have been. You've made this my problem, and I intend on dealing with it now," she made sure to enunciate her words so that they were spoken clearly.

"What do you know?" Grace decided to ask another question, wanting to see how many cards could be laid out on the table before she played her hand.

"I know that you are not only a barmaid...that you are working for Inspector Campbell; in order to find the stolen guns," Polly began, "I know that you're the one who gave Freddie up. You had a hand in him being taken away from his family just as it was started," she paused, staring the blonde woman down for a few seconds before continuing, "and I know that when you went to tell Inspector Campbell about those guns, you decided to bring (Y/N) into the situation; telling him that she was the one who was hiding them here in Small Heath."

Grace's jaw would have dropped had she not stopped it as Polly offered the last bit of knowledge that she possessed. She wondered how that detail got out...she'd spoken to Campbell in confidence so that it wouldn't.

"Campbell has a tendency to share his plans loudly," Polly cut into her thoughts, divulging exactly what she wanted to hear. "And I think I know why you did it..." she trailed off then, her eyebrows raising as she waited to see if Grace would say anything. She continued when she was met with silence, "I think that you met Tommy and you fell for him. I think that you struggled between the obligation you came here to carry out, and the man you met. Tommy was different from the type of man you were expecting to bring down, and that intrigued you. But then came (Y/N)...she was in the way of what you wanted, and so you made up the lie to try and get her to take the hit for the guns."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Grace asked, her brows furrowed, a panicked feeling starting to bubble up inside of her. She tried hard to keep her composed front up though.

"Because you should know that, in this city, we Shelbys have power. And with that power comes the ability to receive knowledge...and to make knowledge change, or even disappear," Polly pressed her lips together in an attempt to conceal the grin that was threatening to grow on her face as she got ready to reveal an update in Grace's attempted plan. "I've spoken with Sargent Moss, who has investigated (Y/N)'s involvement with the guns. He’s cleared her from any involvement with them. Your plan is no longer being carried out in the way you hoped it would," she allowed the grin to grow once she finished her statement, taking satisfaction in seeing all of the confidence drain out of the younger woman's features.

Polly pursed her lips before her grin could take over her entire expression, feeling even more confident after seeing Grace's reaction to it.

The younger woman was frozen. She didn't quite know what to do, or what to say in response to the information she'd just been given. How was she to play her hand if it had just been completely taken from her?

"I suggest you pack your things and leave Birmingham before (Y/N) comes home. She doesn't know of this little lie you've told at the moment, but she will when she returns, and...well I'm surprised she let you live after the lies you've told her before," Polly broke the tense silence. Grace stayed frozen. "Have I made myself clear in that?" she asked, being met with silence.

"You can't protect him forever, you know that," Grace decided to speak again, hoping she still sounded intimidating, "and (Y/N)...she'll cause bad."

"You must not have realized how we Shelbys are then. We'll protect our own until we can't. And she may...but you've already caused it," Polly didn't even budge on Grace's weak attempts of a comeback. "You should leave. If I see you again, I might just kill you myself," she advised then, nodding her head once to show her determination.

——

(Y/N) was out of breath as she approached the door of her childhood home. "Mum?!" she called as she entered it and was met with an empty room. "Mum?! It's me, everything's alright!" she called again, making her way deeper into the home. Where are you? she thought to herself, walking into the kitchen to find it also empty. The scraping of something on the floor above her made her realize that she may be upstairs. She rushed to the steps and ascended them as fast as she could. "Mum? It's me, mum!" she called out as she approached the door to her parent's room, "I'm coming into the room," she announced as she grabbed the doorknob.

She opened the door slowly, finding the room empty. She knew that her mother was in here though, because this room was right above where the scraping came from. "I'm here alone, mum...I'm safe," she called out as she looked around the room, slowly taking a step inside.

"Over here," she heard a voice call softly, making her rush to the hidden side of the bed to find her mother cowering next to the nightstand - which was what must've scraped the floor.

"It's me," (Y/N) repeated herself as she extended her hand to her mother, "I'm safe."

"You've got blood on you," her mother gasped, making (Y/N) look down and finally realize that some of Garrett's blood had splattered onto her clothing.

"I'm safe, I promise. It's done," she assured her mother. The older woman knew exactly what she was talking about even though she spoke in veiled statements. "Please, stand up with me now," she said then, offering her hand once more in hopes that her mother would take it.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she did. Both of the women stood up and embraced each other in a tight hug. Feeling her mother's comforting arms wrap around her made (Y/N)'s walls fall down again. She couldn't stop the tears as they welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

"We're safe now, mum. He can't hurt us anymore," (Y/N) whispered into her mother's ear as she held onto her for as long as she could. They held the embrace for a few moments longer before stepping away to look at each other. "I'm sorry for coming in unexpectedly. You were the first person I thought of after it was finished," she then apologized for her abrupt entry.

"It's ok, darling," her mother forgave her, "dad's out of town on business. I told him that this would be a good time to take the trip like you and I spoke about...he's not expected to be back for another few days," she explained her husband's whereabouts. (Y/N) nodded, feeling relieved that that part of the plan they'd spoken about in their correspondence had been followed through with.

"No one was in the bar when it happened. He asked everyone to leave when he noticed I was there...said that he wanted to have a conversation with me. Everyone was cleared from the area before the shot rang out," (Y/N) then explained what had gone down on her side of the events.

"Did you do it?" her mother asked. It flashed quickly, but (Y/N) thought she saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she asked the question.

"I didn't," (Y/N) shook her head, glancing at the wall behind her mother, "Tommy was there too. He was able to take the shot when I couldn't," she then explained.

"That's fine...so long as it was finished with," her mother assured her, nodding slightly as she spoke, keeping her eyes locked with (Y/N)'s.

(Y/N) nodded along with her as she felt a lump start to build up in her throat. "I...I'm so sorry, mum," she choked out, another wave of emotion flowing over her as the events caught up once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, love," her mother was quick to console her, "you knew what he was going to do...this was what had to be done. You've saved both your life and mine in doing so," she explained in a calming voice.

"But...but Clay's going to..."

"He's not going to find out. He was at his office while it happened, and you said it yourself that nobody saw it. Anyone could have done it," (Y/N)'s jumbled response was cut off again by her mother's justifications. "It hurts because it's family, but this is what happens inside families like ours. He was going to harm us...we couldn't let that happen," the older woman continued, speaking with a steady voice, "my father wouldn't have let it happen. It's time that us women work to take some power back within our own family."

(Y/N) nodded as she listened to what her mother had to say. "We're going to be ok, right?" she asked once she'd been able to calm down.

"We are. We're going to be more than ok, love," her mother agreed with her. "He wasn't going to bring anything good into this family. I believe he's finally found his peace now...whatever that peace may be," she then said.

It hurt her to think of her son this way, but it was what was necessary. Garrett was ready to fly off of the handle. He was in the midst of planning to find (Y/N) and then be able to rid the family of the 'weaker links', which meant that he was going after his mother too. In his mind, all the women did was take up space...they weren't good for anything because they didn't fight or throw their hat into the ring to help out the family in, what he deemed to be, a substantial way while the war was going on. The only reason why he wasn't able to push forward on this crusade, if you will, was because Clay didn't think that it was ideal to carry the plan out. He was more invested in trying to make deals and expand their control over the city. Garrett usually listened to Clay but, over these last few weeks, it seemed as though he was gearing up to carry out his plans without approval. This is what made Ann Weller scared, and it's ultimately why she decided to write (Y/N) a letter explaining what was happening so that they could create a plan of their own.

She was thankful that all of the different parts worked out the way they did. She didn't want to think of the consequences that would have arisen had one gone wrong.

"You said that Tommy came with you, (Y/N)?" Anne asked after both of the ladies were completely calm again.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded her head, "he did." Realization struck her then as she remembered running out of the pub and leaving Tommy in the dust as she rushed to get to her mother. "I left him at the pub," she said then, stepping away from her mother to exit the room and rush down the steps. She was fully prepared to sprint back to the pub where she left him, but she quickly realized that she wouldn't need to. "Tommy," she gasped, surprised to see him standing in the front room of the home.

"I was only a few steps behind you," he explained to her, immediately seeing her surprised expression. (Y/N) didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, her worry dissipating once more.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Shelby," Ann’s voice came from behind her daughter, making her turn around.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Weller. And please, call me Tommy," he smiled at her, stepping forward to offer his hand in a formal greeting.

"You call me Ann then," she told him while shaking his hand, making him chuckle as he nodded in agreement. "Thank you for looking after my daughter, Tommy," she said, an appreciative smile on her face.

"You're welcome," Tommy accepted her gratitude, looking over at (Y/N) to see that she was already smiling at him. He held her gaze until she broke away, looking bashfully at the ground. "I'm sorry about what had to happen," he addressed what had gone down earlier, looking at Ann again.

"Don't be," Ann brushed his apology off, "I've already told (Y/N)...he was my son, but he was also an angry and violent man. I hope that he's found peace now," she then reiterated what she'd said to (Y/N) moments ago. Tommy nodded along with her, making note of how she felt about the situation.

"It's getting late," (Y/N) spoke up again after a few moments had passed, "we should head back to Birmingham, Tommy."

"If you're ready," Tommy agreed with her while still letting her lead the situation.

"I am," (Y/N) nodded her head before she looked at her mother. "I love you, mum," she said, a smile on her face as she stepped forward to hug the older woman.

"I love you, sweetheart," Ann repeated the sentiment, hugging her daughter tightly, "things will be better from now on," she assured her, stepping back to smile at her as she held onto her shoulders.

"They will," (Y/N) agreed with her mother, even though she didn't feel what she was saying completely in her heart. "Shall we go?" she asked Tommy as she turned to face him. Tommy only nodded in response, taking a step to the door then. "Bye, mum. I'll write to you when I'm home safe," (Y/N) said to her mother, sending her one last smile before she followed Tommy to the door.

"Bye, (Y/N)," Ann sent a smile back, watching as the two exited the home and went on their way back to the car they'd arrived in.

The walk back was filled with silence. Tommy finally had a chance to smoke; he'd been needing a cigarette after what went down at the pub, but he was more worried about (Y/N) than his desires. Having her safe by his side finally allowed him to give in.

Tommy opened the driver's side door with no hesitation, getting himself ready to enter the car when he noticed that (Y/N) was practically frozen on the passenger's side. "(Y/N)?" he called to her, his brows furrowed as he looked through the car's windows to see her absentmindedly staring at the door. She didn't answer him, didn't even look up, so he dropped his hand from the door and walked around to meet her on the other side. "Everything ok, love?" he asked once he was in front of her.

"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of her thoughts, sounding surprised.

"You weren't getting into the car," he pointed out, "are you alright?"

"I, uh..." she trailed off, breaking eye contact as she hoped to keep herself together, "this can't keep happening with us, Tommy. This can’t become our ‘thing’," she choked out, her attempts failing as she recalled the past two times where they found themselves in a situation similar to what had happened at the pub earlier.

Tommy frowned as he heard what she had to say. "It won't happen again," he told her, a definitive tone in his voice.

(Y/N) wanted to take that statement at face value and hold onto it with all of her might, but she just couldn't. Instead she felt her heart break at the possibility that there very well could be another time. "That's not something you can promise," she pointed out, her voice broken. She dropped her gaze to the pavement as tears started to prick her eyes, not wanting Tommy to see her cry. She couldn't get it past him though, because she felt his arms engulf seconds later. His embrace was tight, one that she immediately sunk into.

"These sort of things'll be done now, eh?" he tried to reason with her, resting his chin on the top of her head as she clung to him tightly. "Look at me, (Y/N)," he whispered then, making her step back from him. He took his chance and took her face into his hands, holding her so that she couldn't break eye contact. "I might not be able to promise that, but I can promise that I will keep you safe, no matter what happens, ok?" he spoke in all seriousness, his eyes widening to show how much he cared. "I will keep you safe," he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke.

(Y/N) nodded as best she could with her head in his hands. "Ok," she breathed, feeling truly safe as he was holding her.

"Ok," he repeated her single word statement in a similar tone, nodding slightly as well.

Silence fell between them then, and (Y/N) realized in that period just how close they'd gotten. She could feel the warmth of Tommy's breath as it fanned across her face. The blueness of his eyes trapped her, shining despite the circumstances and giving her a glimmer of hope that maybe things would be better from there on out. She stayed in his grasp, watching as his eyes flitted to her lips for a moment before locking with hers again. A strange sensation shot through her as she watched him do that, and she couldn't help but do some searching of her own, letting her eyes travel over his features as she admired them up close.

Tommy dropped his eyes to her lips one more time before he made up his mind and decided to stop dancing around what he was wanting to do, what he’d been wanting to do. He leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to realize what he was doing; waiting for her to react in any sort of way. The second he saw her eyelids flutter shut, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers.

All of the bells and whistles were going off inside (Y/N)'s mind the second she felt his lips touch hers. She returned the kiss right away, her hands grabbing onto the sides of his suit jacket as she felt like she was about to be swept off of her feet.

The first kiss was short, a sort of a taste or teaser...a way to test the waters. Tommy was the one to pull away, but he didn't move far, only retreating a few centimeters so that they could both grab a breath before he leaned back in and kissed her again; his intentions more firm this time.

If the first kiss would have swept her off of her feet, this kiss would have blown (Y/N) away. She was not in any way prepared for something like this to happen, but now that it was happening, she didn't want it to end. Everything felt right in this moment. Her worries were pushed to the back of her mind as he moved to the forefront.

Their kiss lasted for a few moments before Tommy pulled away again, this time for good as he lifted his head slightly and pressed his lips to her forehead. (Y/N) relished in the feeling as tingles continued to shoot through her body. Nothing was said as he let go of her face and wrapped his arms around her once more, holding her flush against him.

"Are you ok?" he finally broke the silence, pulling her away to let her stand at arm's length as he looked her over.

"More than," she couldn't stop herself fast enough, the half-dazed answer escaping her lips before she had the chance to think it over.

Her response made him chuckle, a slight grin forming on his face as he relished in seeing her sheepish smile form. He hoped he didn't look too animated on the outside, and that she couldn't feel his heart where it was thudding in his chest. "Good," he said to her, feeling like a weight lifted off of his shoulders as she smiled at him.

She pulled him back into an embrace without warning, resting her head flat against his chest. She took comfort in the fact that his heart was beating rapidly, happy that he was reacting the same way she was. He held her tight to him, letting her rest in his arms with no questions asked. Silence surrounded them again until she asked a question of her own: "can we go home now?"

Her voice was soft, but Tommy heard her. "We can," he answered without hesitation, his heart rate picking up again at her word choice.

(Y/N) didn't misspeak. Even though she grew up in Sheffield, Birmingham had grown to feel more like home than that place ever had. Something told her that the man whose arms she was standing in had a lot to do with why she felt that way.

And now she just wanted to go home.

Next Part

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @l1-l4 @chlorrox @lostgirl219 @woofgocows @bdudette @mrkdvidal1989 @stephhevring @fictional-hooman @httyd-marauders @nataliewalker93 @rangerelik @thecraziestcrayon @cilliansangel @shaddixlife @tracysnook

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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lady-of-the-english · 2 months

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Tommy and Grace and Marriage Part 3

To echo back to ideas I started in part 1, Tommy at his core is a romantic with Grace, with a healthy view of what their relationship should be like. Tommy desires a true partnership with Grace - he promises her he'll help her with everything as she'll help him (it's one of the only health sentiments we've heard from him that I can remember).

He is willing and able to strip himself bare, physically and emotionally, with Grace. And with that, she is his strength. It takes strength and courage to put yourself out there, to trust another person, to be open and honest with them about your feelings and your dreams of the future together. Tommy knows and understands this: he is extremely picky in deciding when and with whom he shares the true depth of himself.

In 2x01, Polly, Ada, and Lizzie all prod Tommy for that openness and vulnerability to no avail. He chooses stoicism, maintaining his mask of emotionless as much as he can - like when discussing business at one of his oldest friends and brother-in-law's Freddy's funeral.

In the same episode, Campbell, as an antagonist, identifies Grace as Tommy's weakness. However, we are meant to disagree as Campbell is intentionally used as Tommy's foil to consider the ethics of both their careers and in their romantic connection to Grace.

The first of the trio to explicitly mention marriage and that potential future for Grace and Tommy is Campbell in his own failed proposal - a proposal that heavily centers around Tommy.

In 1x05, Tommy realizes that the guns have "become a burden" and agrees to sell them to the IRA in a trap, collaborating with Campbell.

In realizing that the IRA are planning to kill him once they get the location of the guns, and thus possibly before the "sixth chime" to midnight, which is the police's signal, Tommy turns to Grace - partly because "barmaids don't count" when told to be alone, but also because Tommy genuinely trusts her with his life.

We see Tommy's fear explicitly. He comes into the Garrison panting, shaking a little. Grace immediately understands that there is going to be "trouble" just seeing him. He's willing and able to show his true feelings with Grace. He trusts her to both help him handle this situation and to not think less of him demonstrating these unmasculine feelings (as Moss will deride Tommy for being ladylike due to his discomfort with the dead bodies in his bar at the end of the scene).

We see Tommy's frustration and fear that he needs to pull Grace into this side of the business. He tells her that when the IRA men get there, "they plan to kill me. It's your job to stop that happening." And he minimizes what she has to do: "You don't shoot. You just point," reassuring her that neither will have to kill anyone as the "police want them alive" and will be in soon to deal with the situation fully - a statement that surprises Grace. If the police are to help him, she assumes that she would be informed, and thus, her own disquiet truly develops.

Grace doesn't object at all to the idea of protecting him, only a bit in disbelief that "you could have given me more warning" to which Tommy reveals his full frustration and fear that "he just got the message himself" and thus wouldn't involve her in a danger situation unless he absolutely had to.

He sends her off to hide until the signal with his voice rasing and getting faster in his panic as he repeats to Grace, "All right, go. Go on. Go!"

Grace, hidden but peaking around the door, watching and listening for Tommy's signal, can hear clearly their threats as they they condensingly ask Tommy, "Did you think was let you live? Make your peace, Mr. Shelby," to which Grace comes out guns blazing.

I think her motivation is three-fold: since we met Grace, her primary goal has been to ensure these guns don't fall into the IRAs' hands. Even when Campbell points out at the beginning of the season that there are other players of concern, such as the Peaky Blinder, she maintains her focus on the IRA in her fear, hatred, and grief over her father's death. So, the mission itself, as an agent of the crown intertwined with revenge, greatly motivates her.

But, I think her feelings for Tommy are just as inspiring. If her grief of her father dying at the hands of this organization is still haunting to this degree, I imagine it must have been terrifying to hear another person she cares about possibly being taken from her in the same way. Feelings of revenge tend to be wrapped up in guilt of not being able to save that person. If she couldn't save her father, she'd make sure they couldn't do this to anyone else again - especially her again, which is a position I don't think she ever imagined being in.

Grace shoots multiple times, planning to kill both men so that Tommy would never be in real danger for a moment. Instead, her revenge helps pull him into the danger she so hoped to avoid. As Tommy begins to fight back, she's trying to get in there to shoot again, but she is knocked down and stays down until Tommy kills the second IRA man by bashing his face in.

Tommy immediately goes to Grace, and while she initially flinches from the violence, she let's him come to her, help her off the floor. She leans into Tommy's gentle caress of her face as Tommy tries to reassure himself that she is okay. Grace doesn't try to get away when he holds her head and asks her, "why did you shoot, Grace?". She replies in shock and disbelief, "I didn't know I had it in me like that."

Tommy, is likewise full of regret, afraid that he has driven her off as "now you've seen me."

But Grace's fear and criticism is only for herself as she responds, "and now you've seen me. I'm sorry." Instead of moving away from him, she draws closer, hugging him. Tommy is initially in disbelief, thinking he'd driven her off forever and surprised that she's the one sorry (I just can't imagine Tommy's been on the receiving end of many - any - apologies). But, he quickly unfreezes and sinks into her comforting embrace as he closes his eyes to bask in her presence and love.

This is Grace's breaking point as she tells Campbell the following morning. When Moss and the other cops come into the Garrison, they aren't sorry for purposefully going back on their deal with Tommy, that the IRA men are dead, and that Grace and Tommy could have died. Tommy, with tears in his eyes, holding himself up by leaning against the bar, respectfully state that "they fought well. They were brave men." Moss, gets in Tommy's face and and degrades him that they look like he was "killed by a wild fucking animal" and asks, "who cares?" about the bodies that he states were never never. As they leave, Grace looks at Tommy, whose eyes are closed, trying to stop the tears, and she can see fully who the real "bad" men are.

After walking her safely home, Tommy reiterates Grace's apology, telling her, "I'm sorry." We don't see Tommy often providing apologies either, but he is willing to give Grace what she offers him - everything.

In truly seeing both Tommy and the police force, Grace meets with Campbell to offer up the guns and her resignation. Previous scenes had shown Grace's discomfort with Campbell's degrading rhetoric about Tommy, but she typically ignored it and didn't argue back.

But now everything is different. At the meeting with Campbell, he strokes the same cheek Tommy caressed the night before, but this time, Grace flinches away.

Campbell offers a non-apology placing the blame on Tommy for the danger she was in: "I had no idea that he would involve you in this ugly business. If I had, I never would have let this happen," showing only his concern for her life in the situation. Grace looks away disgusted and argues back for truly the first time: "he trusts me. I told you that. You didn't believe me," showing the sharp contrast between Tommy and Campbell.

When he challenges her that Moss reported that they were "embracing," she scoffs is disbelief: "Is that your primary concern?". He tries to justify that his "concern" is for "her welfare," but Grace shakes her head no and takes full responsibility, telling him, "it was me who killed them" - both of them, as Tommy only finishes what she started and thus, she covers for him, not willing for him to face the consequences of her actions.

Campbell tries to blame that on Tommy's influence too, but Grace won't let him and makes clear that "something inside me changed" through seeing both Tommy and the police force clearly. She asserts that she and the police were the real "beasts" last night, not Tommy.

Grace claims that she no longer feels the need to "avenge" her father as she understands that it almost costs her Tommy's life. She asserts that the "hatred that I brought here with me is gone" in contrast to the depth of hatred Campbell feels. She reminds him that the mission was always about the guns, not The Peaky Blinders, and with that, negotiates a deal with him. She demands that "I want your word that Thomas Shelby will not be harmed if the guns are recovered. Your word as a gentleman." This great act of betrayal is in service of Tommy's life as both possessing the guns and trying to sell the guns have proven to have the same deadly consequences for him.

Campbell doesn't immediately agree as it is not something he wants to give; we've seen from the beginning how petty and personal he makes the "mission." He is incredulous that she has "sympathy" and "sentiment" for Tommy and tells her she's "too good-hearted for this work." He deems Tommy her weaknesses, just as he'll deem Grace Tommy's.

Realizing that he'll only agree if there is something in it for him, Grace capitulates on their own history: "So, for my sake, will you spare him?," finally getting his "word."

When she meets him at the grave the following morning, Campbell hugs Grace, which she doesn't reciprocate, and proposes the moment she resigned, ready and in wait to strike with a ring in his hand the second she's no longer his "subordinate." Campbell tells Grace what she once thought but no longer believes: "I'm a good man, and my admiration of you has turned to love." Seeing her shocked and disbelieving face, he tells Grace, " I don't ask for love in return. Just recognition that we are liked minds with shared values."

It is a proposal that is in complete odds with Tommy's declarations. Campbell formalities juxtaposed with Tommy's giddiness and boyish teasing in the following scenes. While both consider how they are the same with "liked minds," Campbell's viewpoint is based on the old version of Grace, who hasn't witnessed the police threaten women and children and provide empty promises, Tommy is confident in his assertion that they've "found each other" because Grace has told him so explicitly that he's truly "seen her" as she's seen him, and neither wants to look away.

Grace understands whose reactions to fear when giving bad news - who the real threat to her life is. Grace slowly and hesitantly goes to grap Campbell's hand (as the first and last time she voluntarily touches him) and formally addresses him as "Mr. Campbell," while trying to let a violent man down gently by lying and telling him, "you deserve better."

It's a lie he easily sees through, showing Grace his true colors once again. He immediately gets aggressive, stepping towards Grace, screaming in her face, "Is it the beast that dug this grave? Is it him between us?". This is in sharp contrast to the gangster that she actually betrayed, but who never showed her any anger or made any threats. Tommy wishes her well and his continued love when parting at the end of the season, while Cambpell tries to murder her.

Campbell's bullet wound from Grace is a physical reminder of Grace for Campbell, Tommy, and the audience. While she is not there, no one has forgotten her, and every visual and auditory cue of Campbell's cane echos her presence in these men's thoughts.

In 2x01, Churchill challenges Campbell's choice in using Tommy in spite of their history. Campbell assures him that this is why he is the best choice as to apply pressure, you need to know a man's weakness and I "know his weaknesses intimately" - a direct reference to Grace as he once spied on Tommy and Grace dancing in her apartment intimiately. Thus, the audience is reminded that Campbell's intertwining his personal petty grievances with his work have helped Tommy before. In 1x05, Campbell calls off the police raid when he learns that Tommy's gone off with Grace. Moss questions the choice, too, as it's not the smart, logical choice, and thus one that helped save his life. He chooses his pride over the job then.

While Campbell's goal is to use Tommy and then dispose of him once and for all, because of his resentment over Grace choosing Tommy, Campbell will save Tommy's life once again as they interrupt Sabini's attack on him at the end of the episode. And with that, we see once again that Grace isn't Tommy's weakness. When Campbell comes to the hospital to threaten and blackmail him, Tommy is the first person to mention Grace's name. While Tommy is senestive about Grace, he can and will bring her up when he wants to. And he calls on her memory to help him through this situation. Just as Campbell assumes that she is Tommy's weakness, Tommy knows that she is Campbell.

Tommy assumes correctly that Campbell is just as hung up over Grace as he is. He can't imagine someone being able to get over her, as he sure hasn't, and he uses the memory of her to disrupt Campbell's own control and strategy over the situation. With a pointed causualness, Tommy provides details of Grace's life, letting us know that he has kept tabs on her, wanting to stay connected to her even as they are ocean's apart. He relates that she's in New York and knows even more specifically that she's living in a "place call Poughkeepsie" and most importantly that she's "married now." In knowing how much that devastates him, he assumes that it will have a similar impact on Campbell.

Just as Tommy hasn't moved on, Campbell similarly shares Grace's personal details attacking Tommy's insecurities, letting him know he also knows that she's married, "to a banker. He's rich. I'm sure she's very happy," as he pokes at what Tommy wanted to provide Grace himself - economic security, but most of all, happiness.

While Campbell's information could come from Grace's family and abuse of his position, Tommy's obviously comes from Grace herself as we are told by Lizzie that a letter from "Poughkeepsie" arrived for him at his new offices in Digbeth. Both of them have ensured that they other has their new addresses keeping in touch. Obviously, the letter that season 1 ends on and season 2 opens with is not the last contact they've had in the last two years. We can see how much Tommy hasn't moved on; even though she's married now, he is still keeping communication open between them.

Campbell's remark is one that hurts, and thus, Tommy pivots to the physical discomfort Grace imparted - which visually symbolizes her presence for the rest of the reason.

Tommy says, "I imagine being shot by a woman hurts the same as being shot by a man. Just a bit more shameful." He emphasizes how while Grace has left them both, she only wanted to leave one of them behind and that the person she truly hurt purposefully isn't Tommy. In the end, she picked Tommy over everything else: her job, her family's expectations and status, her grief and plots of revenge, and her previous convictions about law, honor, and moralty.

Tommy declares that "every time you lean on that stick, I bet you see her face," as Tommy himself does. He is so sure that her memory haunts Campbell, willing to "bet" when he is someone who typically fixes bets in his favor. Tommy sees and remembers Grace everywhere. So, in his view, why would Campbell be any different.

Therefore, we see the door of the future Tommy imagined for them still open. Even if she's married, Grace is still the person he longs for every day; even him burning her letters isn't enough to truly burn the bridge between them - but more on that next time.

#tommy x grace #tommy shelby #grace shelby #grace burgess #peaky blinders

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1im-perfect1 · 2 years

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I saw the take that Freddie as an episode is framed differently “we're not supposed to laugh”, “Nandor is the villain” and “Guillermo's feelings are really hurt” and I do agree but I would add something: it's the first time Guillermo lets himself feel and express those feelings (from suppressing his feelings for Nandor so hard that the first time they came out he's in disguise, the killing catching up to him when he hears Jenna's friend talk, how private he is about his life) Nandor is a repressed himbo but Guillermo isn't that much better.

Nandor hurts him emotionally on multiple occasions and Guillermo has different reactions to them: 2x8 after Nandor tells him that Benjy is the best familiar he has ever had and he should go we see Guillermo turn around and cry and talk to himself about how overlooked and underappreciated he is, 3x10 he snaps at Nandor but Nandor's not really listening to what he's saying and so he uses violence to drive his point home and then Nandor reveals it was all a test and everything is forgiven and 4x1 Guillermo tells Nandor he's dead to him and Nandor has the face to ask "What the fuck did I do" and then dry him off to calm him down while not listening to what he has to say about not going on the trip with him (a lot would have been solved if Nandor had instead of blindly "forgiving" him).

In 4x9 Guillermo doesn't stop talking, he doesn't just walk out, he confronts Nandor not by raising his voice or using violence, he tells Nandor exactly how it is, Nandor tries to stop him but Guillermo is beyond that and we're shown the most vulnerable Nandor we have ever seen (with another person): his voice gets soft his demeanor a little submissive but the spell is broken when he glances at the camera but the difference this time is that Nandor listened to him...he actually HEARD what he had to say and didn't blame Guillermo for how he felt about the situation or find a way around the fact that his actions after this conversation weren't "his plan after all" but a response to what Guillermo said and felt.

#not surprised this ep had the same writers as brain scramblies the Laszlo is soft for his special human Sean truthers #and Guillermo has feelings and emotions and isn't just Nandor's familiar #would have an interesting take on Nandor and the way he treats humans (Marwa and Freddie) and the special way reserverd to Guillermo only #and how a stupid vampire doing a stupid thing would impact Guillermo emotionally #wwdits spoilers #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #nandermo #nandor x guillermo #wwdits marwa #wwdits freddie

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don-dake · 25 days

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R I P L E Y (2024)

***Contains SPOILERS***

A review (of sorts, but more a rambling opinion piece that veers off the main subject occasionally).

So I've watched R I P L E Y (2024), all eight episodes of it. One word: Bravissimo!

As someone who loves the Ripliad series of novels by Patricia Highsmith immensely, and having watched all the Ripley film adaptations there are thus far — Plein Soleil aka Purple Noon (1960), The American Friend aka Der Amerikanische Freund (1977), The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), Ripley's Game (2002), and Ripley Under Ground (2005) — I went into this new series (released on Netflix on April 4th) with expectations…

Not high, for I've learned it's never good to have high expectations or you'll more than likely just be setting yourself up for disappointment…but with expectations all the same!

Thus far, my favourite Ripley film adaptation had been 2002's Ripley's Game starring John Malkovich as an older Ripley. Had been. Until this series that is! I still love Ripley's Game a lot of course! (heh!) And there really should be no comparison given it's two different mediums and the two Ripleys are portrayed from different times of the character's life.

So saying, this new series definitely sets a new standard for a Ripley adaptation! And as someone who love the books a lot, I'm glad this series is very closely adapted from the first book!

The decision to go for a black and white cinematography, I was skeptical about that at first but after looking at the trailers and reading on the director's reasoning for going B & W with this, I can understand why, and generally agree with his decision.

Though at times, especially when looking at the wonderful interior sets, I'll be wishing I could see it in all its colour glory and thinking what a waste it was not to have it in colour, but that is but a minor hitch, for the B & W cinematography is done with superb mastery and skill, and it's hard to find fault with going this route. And it does contribute to getting into the film noir feel from films of yesteryear.

On the actors, I was skeptical on Andrew Scott as Ripley at first, but I'm happy to say he has proven me wrong and his Ripley, while not as young as Ripley should be at the start of the novel series, is one that is characterised the closest, and if Showtime/Netflix has any plans to adapt the rest of the novels, Scott will be perfect as an older Ripley, I think!

Maybe that was/is the plan…that's why Scott was chosen even though age wise, he doesn't quite fit in the beginning…one can hope! (heh!)

Moving on, just a brief rambling on the other main actors/characters because I'm getting tired:

Love Dakota Fanning as Marge Sherwood, she was exactly how I imagined Marge to be as I read the (first) book. A superb performance by Fanning I'd say!

Johnny Flynn as Dickie Greenleaf was underwhelming for me partly because in my eyes, Jude Law was/is the perfect Dickie (even if his — Law's — American accent was/is questionable), but partly also because I find Flynn is lacking charisma (sorry, Flynn fans!), I didn't get the sense of what was so fascinating about this Dickie that Ripley would be so enamoured with him or his lifestyle, enough to kill for it.

Perhaps the fault lies partly with the script too for I felt we the audience didn't get to see more of what drew Ripley to Dickie, besides his obvious wealth and status.

Eliot Sumner as Freddie Miles. Now this was the character that underwent the most drastic change as compared to the book and the 1999 The Talented Mr. Ripley film adaptation. In both the book and the 1999 film, Freddie was described (and portrayed to perfection by Philip Seymour Hoffman in my opinion) as an American with carrot-red hair, stocky, loud and all round obnoxious from miles away sort.

2024 Freddie is slim-built, androgynous looking, with a cherub face and British…he's practically a whole different character except in name.

As such, it's unfair to compare I guess, but having envisioned Freddie as described in the book for so long, helped along by PSH's award-worthy performance, I'll just say this is not the Freddie for me.

But, that doesn't mean Sumner's Freddie was bad. In terms of being almost a foil to Ripley, Sumner's Freddie is still quite effectively annoying.

Special mentions to Maurizio Lombardi and Margherita Buy as Inspector Ravini and Signor(in)a Buffi (Ripley's landlady) respectively! I enjoyed watching these two characters.

Also a special mention to Lucio (Signor(in)a Buffi's cat), who, had it been able to speak, Ripley would certainly have silenced! (heh!)

Last but not least, a special mention to John Malkovich as Reeves Minot.

I was so excited when I first saw Malkovich in the trailer because not only is his casting a nice tribute to his turn as Tom Ripley in Ripley's Game (2002), I thought he would be playing Herbert Greenleaf at first, but he turned out to be playing Reeves Minot! Even better! Gives more hope that new seasons of R I P L E Y (2024) may happen!

Those who have read the books will know that Reeves Minot is a recurring character in the later books — I can't really remember how many exactly, it's been some time since I last read them (and I should again!).

To sum up, I did enjoy this series tremendously and will definitely rewatch many times to come, and I hope we'll get further adaptations of the other books with the same standards as set for this one!

P.S.: I've seen a few people mention “this (R I P L E Y) is like Saltburn!”. I never heard of the film Saltburn before looking at some opinion pieces, but after looking it up, dare I say, Saltburn ripped off the Ripliad stories and its characters (the Ripliad books first came out in the 1950s) and I think it's more appropriate to say “Saltburn is like Ripley”!

#Dake Rambles #Ripley 2024 #Ripley Netflix #Andrew Scott #John Malkovich #Ripley's Game #The Talented Mr Ripley

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star-going-supernova · 6 months

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Security Breach prompt: Building on the "Vanny was a Terrible Killer" idea. Picture this: Vanny standing there, staring bewildered at an ajar "Emergency Exit" door because she forgot they exist and legally don't have locks.

Tumblr generated prompt number 42! Hoo boy, this was a lot of fun to write! It’s not connected to Critque because I had a different setup in mind, so this is a standalone. You get to decide what the situation with Vanny is, as it’s not specified or anything. The only warning on this one is for excessive italics, lol. She gets emphatic when she’s mad.

OSHA Compliant

Vanny had been searching for the brat for ages now, and there was no sign of him anywhere. She had long since lost her patience and had stopped skipping as her frustration grew. Her grip was tight on her knife, and any plans to toy with her latest victim had withered down to a desire to just stab the little menace to death.

None of the animatronics had seen him, not even the STAFF bots which were nearly impossible to avoid and should have caught him at some point in the last hour. Midnight had barely passed; she couldn’t be struggling this early.

Spitting and hissing, she stormed through hallway after hallway, banging open doors and frequently pulling up different security feeds on her tablet. Yeah, her tablet. She needed to use the cameras like a newbie. Over a dozen successful kills under her belt and suddenly she was fumbling like it was her first time again.

No, worse. Her first kill had gone much more smoothly.

To make matters worse, she was due to give him his first look at Vanny, so she was all suited up—and had been for far longer than was optimal. It was sweltering inside this wretched fabric-and-foam heat trap, and she was sweating all over. Her hair was plastered to her forehead; she’d look like a complete mess when she had to get out of costume. And she was pissed about it.

Honestly. This was absurd. The brat in question had certainly been sneaky in the lead-up to midnight, but he was still a snot-nosed, idiot child. How he’d gotten Freddy on his side was a mystery to her—one that she would be investigating thoroughly once this stupid night was over. That couldn’t be allowed to happen again.

Narrowing her eyes, Vanny swiped through the cameras for the nth time. There was a conspicuous lack of Freddy, even on the secret cameras she’d placed in areas the pizzaplex hadn’t. Impatiently tapping her foot, she switched over to the tracking software. It could give her a to-the-room accurate location of each animatronic, and it had never failed her.

[Glamrock Freddy :: Location Error]

Vanny unleashed a furious screech of anger. How the hell had the brat managed that?!

She jabbed at the location history, searching out Freddy’s last known whereabouts. It showed a random hallway.

Positively fuming, Vanny stalked halfway across the pizzaplex, halfway expecting to find Freddy beat up badly enough that his chip had short-circuited. Instead, she came to a sharp stop in the hallway in question and stared, disbelief and absolutely incandescent rage building up inside her like a volcano about to blow.

Staring her down was an emergency exit door. It wasn’t closed all the way. Freddy’s last registered location was on the inside of the door—and the tracking system apparently didn’t work outside the building.

Vanny took several long, deep breaths. She started to shake, fingers tightening around her knife and tablet.

Over a dozen kids murdered in the past six months. And not once, not once, had she—or, apparently, any of them!—spared so much as a passing thought for the emergency exits. The only-locked-from-the-outside emergency exits.

Foiled. Foiled by OSHA.

Blinded by wrath, she hurled her tablet at the floor, gaining momentary satisfaction from the shattering crash. She dropped her knife, tore off her suit head, and chucked it at the door, then started shrieking incoherently at the top of her lungs.

(Her rage was so great that it was heard throughout the pizzaplex—and below it. Afton stirred awake. Upon recognizing the bellowing as that of Vanny, he considered going to investigate but ultimately settled back in his shadows. He didn’t know what had set off his follower’s temper, but he would not be inviting her ire on himself tonight. He was smarter than that.)

(If only marginally.)

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's stories #life and times of star

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eggswastaken · 6 months

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I had the stupidest idea ever for a fanfic because I was making fnaf shaggy jokes.

Basically, I was wondering why shaggy would become “purple guy” in the first place. What would motivate Shaggy to unalive five children?

So here’s my thoughts:

Shaggy was getting seriously tired of all the ghosts and monsters that the Gang were having to face off.

After such a long time on the road of constant mystery solving, the Gang finally takes a week long break in a small town. (That town being where Freddy Fazbear’s pizza place is.)

At this time Shaggy is just exhausted, and none of the gang seem to understand. Shaggy is so sick of being chased by ghosts for no good reason!

(also some of the ghosts they encounter are obviously real so shaggy doesn’t understand why the real ghosts are mad at him.)

So while shaggy and scooby check out the local pizza place (Freddy’s) Shaggy’s thoughts turn darker and darker. That maybe he should just make his own ghosts, that he could be the one in control of what’s going on for once. So that’s what he does.

When it’s started to get late he convinces Scooby to go find the gang and head back to the hotel they’re staying at and he will meet them there.

Once Scooby leaves Shaggy and a handful of family’s are left at the dinner.

(Insert plot thing so that Shaggy figures out a plan to lure a child to the back because what’s easier to kill than a child? Also he uses the old springbonnie suit)

And Shaggy has his first victim. And this goes on for a couple days (about two or three more victims) until the rest of the Gang hear about it. And of course Fred is so excited because even though they should let the police handle it he can’t help be excited for another “mystery!” Shaggy being very reluctant to the idea of course, but everyone else brushes it off as him just being classic Shaggy.

(The Gang probably suspect William the owner of the restaurant, because he comes off a little cruel. But he’s actually a nice guy in this.)

After Shaggy “unalives” the last couple kids and the Gang are getting close to the answer. Shaggy already knows that there’s no turning back from what he’s done and he goes a little insane.

(Shaggy probably become on of the “missing” and he uses that to his advantage. Also probably why the gang doesn’t think it’s him.)

He’s ether hiding the body’s at the moment or just done killing the last kid, When the rest of the Gang find him in the act. They of course don’t know it’s Shaggy because he’s in the spring Bonnie suit.

They run around and have a terrifying time trying to get away from the rabbit holding a bloody knife. But Fred gets a plan and they get him into the backroom and into some kind of trap that Fred threw together.

Of course it reviled that it was Shaggy all along and the gang are devastated. They ask why and just as Shaggys about to go off on a tangent about how sick of everything he is.

The spring locks go off.

And the gang just leaves him there, It’s kinda sad to be honest.

“None of this would have happened if you meddling kids just would have been nice to your friend!”

I might make this a fic idk yet but tag me or something if you have ideas.

Edit: looking for a computer to use so I can start writing this idea.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #shaggy #scooby doo #scooby gang #shaggy and scooby #shaggy rogers #william afton #fnaf movie #it’s kinda sad #spring bonnie #the missing children

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niche-artist · 1 month

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Seeing as count the ways is currently in lead, I will for now, Ramble about count the ways a little, I should make a special tag for it… #CTW:Death’s circus. If you have suggestions feel free to tell me in the comments, message, ask or reblogs, I don’t mind how ever you chose to. Below is my rambling, enjoy

So during the winter holidays after the whole incident of the Bazaar and Dylan, Millie seeks for her own way to pass the time away from everyone, away from Brooke, away from Dylan, away from those horrible people at school and even from her grandfather, Finding it so hard to look him properly In the face after angering him and blowing off the whole Christmas party. [ Also! Uh disclaimer, I am an Australian so if I get American things wrong like how long a winter break is or all that shenanigan. ]

So Millie finds out about a new restaurant opening, a Circus themed, animatronic restaurant with the highest and newest tech of the era. It’s become a beloved place for the children, yet it holds dark rumours floating around, about how children were killed in the place these originally had came from and are also rumoured to have been hand crafted by a child serial killer who was never found again and was the founder of the whole franchise with a guy named Henry.

Either way, Millie thought it was a great place to hide away, Most of the people who she’d be hiding from would avoid such a disgustingly happy and childish place right? So when Millie wasn’t locked away within her room, doing homework or anything she’d slip away to the restaurant. Her first encounter with the crew was interesting, She felt disturbed by all of them. Their lifeless dead eyes, Permanently grinning smiles sent chills throughout her body.

Millie managed to find the perfect hiding spot within the place, Dark, secluded and muffled most of the sounds of screeching little kids. Not even employees ventured back there much and this is where Millie would have most of her days planned out, bringing her laptop and passing by the animatronics and children and heading right off into that one little space where no one else ventured or could see. Except for one particular animatronic who watched her close and grinned even wider, This will be a Funtime, won’t it?

This concludes my starting ramble, I have many other things to ramble about but I’m not gonna go too much further, would ruin the fun after all, Dylan, Brooke and all that will be reoccurring, Uh, I need to decide wether or not I wanna keep bonbon’s existence, because I don’t like bonbon too much but Funtime Freddy definitely does

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player1064 · 2 months

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ok first of all love your stuff second of all gary getting all flustered about freddie flintoff in 'it's just not what's done' is one of my favourite things in any fic and i would adore it if you wrote anything more involving gary getting flustered about the big handsome cricket man if you ever got the chance

I! LOVE! GARY GETTING FLUSTERED OVER BIG HANDOME CRICKET MAN FREDDIE FLINTOFF!!!! his poor gay nerves can't handle it........ can you IMAGINE if beautiful twink (~96-99) Gary had met him I think he would probably have died.

ANYWAY this lil drabble is set in the same fic universe as 'it's just not what's done' just bc I like writing openly gay but still hopeless with men Gary... and him and Carra still fighting the inevitable friendship that is coming for them...

---

The first planning session each Monday is more of a ‘sit in a conference room eating breakfast and chatting about the weekend’s games’ than it is a serious broadcasting meeting. It’s an almost nice start to a long day of meetings and rehearsals and shooting.

When they call time the producers all scuttle off to go spin their idle chit-chat into an hour’s worth of television, and the ‘talent’ (or whatever Carragher’s classed as) have a couple of hours to kill before the next meeting.

Gary, of course, usually spends it working. He’s no idea what Carragher does, only that he leaves their dressing room blissfully undisturbed for the full two hours, which is all he really needs to know.

Except, today Carragher pauses on his way out and says “thought I might try out one of them classes they have at the gym, fancy joining?”

Gary looks around the (now empty) room for who he could possibly be talking to, because there’s no way it’s him. He scoffs. “Do I look like I go to the gym, Carragher?”

“You look like you should,” Carragher replies, and so now Gary has no choice but to go just to prove him wrong.

He changes into baggy shorts and a t-shirt that’s tighter than he remembers it being when he bought it, and follows Carragher into the fitness studio part of the on campus gym.

And immediately walks back out when he sees which of his other esteemed colleagues have decided to spend their Monday mornings doing fucking yoga, of all things.

“Carra!” he hears a cockney accent greet as he starts to speed walk away, “and was that Gary I saw with you a second ago – oi, Nev! D’you forget something, I think we’re meant to be starting soon.”

Gary reluctantly turns back around and pastes on a smile, tugging self-consciously at the hem of his shirt. “Alright, Jamie?” he says with a nod, then turns to look at the man beside him and manages to get out a single-syllable greeting of “Fred” without incident.

Carragher looks at him curiously, and he feels his stupid face heat up under the scrutiny.

“Just going to – just gonna head to my mat, then,” he says to a point on the wall behind Jamie and Freddie, and he hurries over to the furthest corner of the room possible.

Annoyingly, Carragher follows him.

“That was weird,” he says, voice hushed while the teacher walks up to the front and starts the introductions. “You’re weird, d’you know that?”

Gary tries to pay attention to what’s being said up front, but can’t help but frown and reply “dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

Carragher leaves it, but a few minutes into the class the other Jamie and Freddie drag their mats closer and start up a continual stream of chatter that’s hard to ignore.

At one point, the teacher looks over to their corner and shushes them so harshly that Gary loses his concentration and stumbles a bit. He braces himself for a fall that doesn’t come, because there’s suddenly a warm hand on his elbow and – and, actually, maybe the fall would’ve been better. Less embarrassing, surely, than having to look up at Freddie fucking Flintoff and mumble a thanks, and then turning away just a fraction too quickly and stumbling again, this time right into the poor man’s bare chest, because of fucking course he has taken his fucking shirt off for a fucking yoga class, why the fuck wouldn’t he?

He's just about ready to melt into the floor in a puddle of shame when the teacher points at them and says “you four, out!”, and he and Carragher are ushered out of the room by a giggling Jamie and Freddie.

“Didn’t yous say in your autobiography, Neville, that you got kicked out of yoga in playing days?” Carragher asks blithely.

Freddie is still stood close enough to Gary that he can feel his body heat, so with effort he manages to quite admirably reply with a hum and a shrug.

“Christ, if I’d known yoga w’you two idiots was all it took to get ‘im to shut up I’d’ve done it a year ago,” teases Carragher

Jamie reaches an arm out to ruffle Gary’s hair. “Aw, poor Nev’s got a little crush on me, don’t he? Can’t ever keep his head on around all this perfection.”

If he hadn’t played for Liverpool, Gary would be tempted to call Jamie Redknapp a good friend. Carragher and Freddie both scoff and start teasing Jamie and his vanity, and Gary’s able to regain enough composure to take a step away from Freddie and join in.

“Not if you were the last man on earth, Redknapp,” he says, then internally cringes at how his voice comes out just a little too loud.

Freddie laughs, elbows Jamie in the side. “Think you’re the one wit’ crush, Jamie,” he says, glancing over to Gary and Carragher with a wink. “Every time we see ‘im it’s ‘ooh, Gary, tell me I’m pretty’, ‘Gary, look, my biceps are bigger’n Fred’s’ – which is bullshit, just by the way – ‘Gary, stop starin’ at Fred and come pay attention to me’.”

Carragher looks between Freddie and Jamie, then turns to Gary with a squint. Gary prays to whatever god might be listening for him not to open that big ugly Scouse mouth of his.

No such luck.

“The two a’yous do realise who you’re squabblin’ over, right? Gary Neville, Christ, ‘ave some self-respect. He’s not even the best lookin’ footballer in his own family.”

#redders is like. if someone has a crush on freddie and not me I WILL kill myself #but also. he sees Gary floundering and is like okay I know how to make this less awkward. im going to talk about how beautiful i am.#and it WORKS.#carraville #drabbles

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littleclownopinions · 5 months

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Why Henry's Completion Ending monologue still gives me chills

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of child murder and suicide

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Simulator released in December 2017 and was packed full of lore. From Candy Cadet's stories, to the Scooper blueprints, to the Fruity Maze minigame and even to the still unsolved Midnight Motorist gameplay, there was a lot to discover and unpack. However, today I don't feel like doing any lore solving or theorising, instead I'd like to simply explain why I love Henry's Completion Ending Speech. I will be directly quoting the important points, but if you need a refresher you can find the whole thing here. One last thing before I begin, I think it's important to remember that when listening to the speech for the first time, players weren't certain on who was speaking. Although Henry was an established character in the books and we were aware of William having a business partner, Henry's name in the games wasn't proven until PJ Heywood, the VA for Michael and William Afton, confirmed it to be Henry on Dawko's The FNAF Show. For talking sake, I want to approach and evaluate the speech from the angle of listening to it for the first time without the foresight or context we now have.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name.."

Henry's opening line is Incredibly effective for two main reasons:

Firstly, this was a pretty important name reveal. Although we already knew that William Afton's daughter had been killed by Circus Baby, and was therefore the spirit possessing her, we did not know her name. Considering the character's lore importance, her name being revealed was a big moment for fans.

Secondly, although we didn't know who exactly was talking, calling out Elizabeth's name made it clear that this was someone important. Someone with connections to the Afton Family.

So, with a single line of dialogue there are two major pieces of information being conveyed to the player. That's what I think makes this such a strong opening.

"I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume. Although you have indeed been called. You have all been called here into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize."

Moving on, Henry begins explaining that the restaurant is really a maze and the map that we've been staring at throughout the office gameplay suddenly appears, except I think this time it seems a lot more... ominous. The thing is, FNAF6 is a pretty overwhelming game. There's so much constantly happening in each gameplay section that there's a pretty limited amount of brainpower one can put into analysing the layout too much. It's only at this moment that players have the opportunity to really weigh up the implications. I think this was done really well. This moment allows for the paranoia to peak as the reality sets in: there's no escape. We still don't know who is talking and therefore have no idea the motivations behind his plan. It's a scary realisation and just fills this moment with so much dread and anxiety.

"I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away, as the agony of every tragedy should."

Now, this is where the speech begins to shift in tone. As the listener, your nerves begin to subside as you realise that, although you still don't know this character, you start to realise their intentions.

The last line here has always stuck with me for how beautifully written it is. I think it goes a long way to show exactly how Henry feels about everything that has happened over the years. He's fed up and wants to bring an end to this sad and tragic story.

"And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more, waiting for you after the smoke clears."

Hearing Henry refer to the animatronics as "monsters" is really intriguing to me because it means that, although he views them as alive, there is a separation between them and the child souls that inhabit them. It's sad, in my opinion, because I can only image that there was a time where he was proud of the animatronics. A lot of them were his own creations and they brought joy to a lot of children out there, but ultimately they had become unrecognisable to him. He veiws them as evil. Extensions of his ex-business partner and his wrongdoings. Ultimately, though, I think it's sweet to know that he imagines the children's spirits being able to move onto something better.

"Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the Devil waiting, old friend."

Honestly, I'm not sure this line needs much explaining. I think I'd be hard-pressed to find a single FNAF fan that didn't have goosebumps hearing it for the first time. There's something so chilling listening to Henry refer to William Afton as "old friend" while we watch his rotten corpse and soul burn in the fire that Henry has started. This is also where we begin to learn who is speaking to us.

"My daughter, if you can hear me… I'm sorry on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours… I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest; for you, and for those you have carried in your arms."

These lines say a lot about who Henry was and again highlight his intentions. While I love hearing him speak directly to Charlie, I think the way he also mentions the other children says a lot more about his character. Yes, he's doing this for himself and Charlie, but he's also doing this for them. He isn't selfish or self-serving. While he may not have known the other children, he still takes the time to mention that this is as much for them as it is for himself and his daughter.

"This ends for all of us. End communication."

These last two lines may be simple, but I personally think they're perfect. Henry is attempting to end everything. His own guilt, William's evil, the suffering of all the children. All of these objectives are of equal importance, for the sake of everybody and everything, it all must stop. And who knows, Maybe in Henry's final moments he was still and quiet, reflecting on it all. Maybe he was given one last chance to speak with his daughter Charlie and tell her he loved her one final time. I think it's up to you to decided what your own headcannon is. Regardless, Henry's last lines prove that he was a good and honest man. He cared about it all, not just the parts that affected him or his life. He was doing what he thought had to be done to bring this story to a close once and for all. His monologue is, in my opinion, some of the best content across the entirety of FNAF. The writing is phenomenal and the performance given by Dave Steele is incredible. It's simply something I'll never forget.

#essay writing #media analysis #five nights at freddys #fnaf #henry emily #fnaf 6 #fnaf pizzeria simulator

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blametheeditor · 2 months

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To See And To Hear | Chapter 2

Previous | Next

NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.

Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.

It's the Jerber!

____________________________________

Scott stares up at the familiar sign of Fazbear’s Pizzeria, fear and uncertainty washing over him. A feeling he hasn’t felt in honest to God years.

Why would he? Ever since he died, the only he thing he’s had to worry about is Vincent accidentally leaving him behind at one of the restaurants and force the ghost to figure out where he went. Even then it’s nothing more than a chore considering there are only four other places he could be, it’d just be a matter of traveling to each location to check for a lurking shadow, and then possibly recheck them again if the purple man backtracked after realizing his mistake.

But this will be the first time he’s possibly meeting another ghost. And not just any one, but someone who died at a Fazbear location. Meaning they’re damned to haunt the restaurants for eternity with how much luck Scott’s had when it comes to moving on.

...who could it be? One of the original children? A night guard in which Scott would be the last person they’d want to see? Will they be hostile and turn out to be a threat, or will they just be confused and grateful to have someone who knows what they’re experiencing?

Honestly, it breaks his heart at the thought of how long they might’ve been without a friendly face. Prays it hasn’t made them become resentful of those still living. He learned early on the animatronics can see and hear him, but they’re not human. And, no offense to the Toys, but they aren’t exactly the most welcoming compared to the Originals, though God forbid someone gets trapped with the Funtimes.

“You alright, Scotty?”

“Yeah,” Scott falls over his shoulder. Grateful to have Vincent by his side, even if his best friend couldn’t come inside the restaurant. He’ll come running if there’s trouble. “I’ll be right back, Vince.”

He then takes a deep breath. Despite it only being an imitation, it’s a familiar action that’s helped ground him time and time again. With that he walks through the closed doors without issue.

One glance at the stage confirms the Toys are locked in place, powered down until the clock strikes midnight. Right now it’s 11:30pm, giving him enough time to confirm if a ghost truly does haunt the restaurant, give a promise to come back another time if there is, and leave before they wake up. Not that he doesn’t like the Toys, they can just be a bit...much.

Hopefully they haven’t convinced the ghost to start murdering people for the hell of it.

Scott slowly makes his way through the familiar restaurant. The first place he ever worked. Where he met Vincent. Where-

Focus. Lives could be at stake.

Nothing stands out to him as he checks off the different rooms. No missing items or burst lightbulbs. Hell, there doesn’t seem to be a distinct chill in the air when he passes through the door to parts and service, the room that always makes him shiver completely vacant.

At least that can prove Eggs really can’t sense ghosts.

He turns to leave before jolting when he hears a familiar laugh echo down the hallway. Confused until he remembers that Mike has been alternating between this location and Freddy Fazbear’s due to absolutely no new applications coming in for the night shift. Not that Scott can blame anyone, but that meant the young man had to do a bit more traveling depending on the week.

The ghost makes his way toward the office, wanting to see how Mike’s handling the Toys so far. Vincent had only laughed when he learned the Originals had been intimidated by him, but Scott’s hoping that’s not what happened here. Their most valuable night guard would’ve kept his promise not to challenge over 6 foot tall animatronics who can snap his neck without any effort, right?

“Hold the fuck on. Your ass can’t eat a goddamn ghost pepper?”

...who is Mike talking to?

Scott runs when it clicks, skidding to a halt at the office’s opening, freezing at the sight that greets him.

Mike’s feet are kicked up onto the desk as he leans back in the rolling chair, somehow able to balance on only two legs without the wheels spinning to make him crash to the floor. And to his left stands a kid who doesn’t look older than 16. One with brown curls, wide grey eyes, and is translucent enough Scott can make out the pattern on the wall behind him.

So there is a ghost. One Mike apparently found and didn’t tell anyone.

“Michael!”

Scott watches as the young man barely jumps from his name being yelled, but it’s enough to disrupt the careful balance needed to keep his chair from falling, meaning the guard disappears from sight as he’s thrown backwards. There is no sympathy despite it sounding like he most likely cracked his head open.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

“M-M-Mike!” the kid exclaims, running over to where Mike lies as he stares down in horror, hands hovering but unable to offer any help. “Are y-you okay!”

“Fucking fine.” A hand grabs the desk as Mike laboriously pulls himself up, blue eyes locking onto the silently fuming ghost glaring daggers. “Well shit, Phone Guy. What the hell did I do?”

“Why the hell did you not tell us there was a God damn ghost!”

He doesn’t notice the light above him is flickering, nor the fact that he can see Mike’s breath every time he exhales. Because Scott has trained himself not to get too upset, all too aware of the damage he could cause when he’s worked up. There were times at the very beginning when not even Vincent was able to calm him down before the purple man got thrown into a wall.

But this is different. He’s told Mike how dangerous interacting with the paranormal can be, including Scott. He’s hurt his best friend before, so why would the young man be so flippant with his own life with a stranger who clearly never worked for Afton.

What if had gotten killed! He could’ve ended up just like-!

“Phone Guy.”

Scott blinks. Flinches when he realizes Mike is standing directly in front of him. Sucks in a gasp at the realization there’s hands resting on his shoulders. As if he’s corporeal. As if he’s alive.

That’s when he notices Mike’s uncontrollable shivers, even breathing out his nose leaves a small cloud visible for a few moments. “You’re scaring the Jerber, asshole.”

All of his anger vanishes within seconds. Horrified he might’ve just traumatized the kid. Made him think other ghosts were like that, ready to snap at any second. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I fucked up,” Mike smirks as he removes his hands, Scott clenching his jaw to keep from asking how the impossible had been done. “I’m sorry for being an asshole and not telling you Jerber was bitching with me on my shifts over here.”

“I’m sorry for almost cracking your head open,” the ghost murmurs.

Mike then turns to gesture toward the poor kid trembling behind the desk. Who stares at Scott with a mix of concern and terror. “Jerber, this is Phone Guy. Phone Guy, Jerber.”

“Scott,” he clarifies. Almost holds a hand out to shake before deciding against it. “I-I’m sorry for loosing my temper. I just, I was worried Mike wasn’t being...careful.”

‘Jerber’ watches him for a few moments before taking a step forward. He then squeaks when he goes through the desk, jumping back before slowly walking around it in order to fully join the conversation. Though he makes a point to stay a safe distance away, using Mike as a barrier between them. “So, y-y-you're a ghost t-too?”

At least he didn’t fuck up completely. “I am. Have been for about twenty years, though I apparently don’t act like it with the stunt I just pulled.”

He’s looked up and down before a glance is shot toward Mike. When Scott’s nodded toward, a hand is then suddenly offered. “I’m J-J-J-Jeremy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Scott says, earnestly, shaking the hand in greeting. He almost jumps in surprise when they actually make contact. Instead of passing through the other they connect as if they were living.

It’s nothing like how Mike’s touch was, with warm flesh that pulsed with a heartbeat, but it’s much more comforting. The tangible confirmation he’s not the only one anymore, no longer alone. If Jeremy decides Scott is allowed to continue talking to him.

That’s when Jeremy flings himself at Scott, the ghost extremely unprepared considering he’s not used to things or people being able to interact with him. That doesn’t mean he didn’t instinctively catch the kid to pull into a stunned hug as he’s clung to, it just meant he nearly fell backwards to send them both to the floor. A little confused how quickly he had been forgiven.

And then it all comes together as the younger ghost sobs into his shoulder.

Scott hugs Jeremy as tightly as possible, gently rubbing the kid’s back, happy to offer what little support he can. Because who knows how long he’s been dead for. Left to wonder around the restaurant where children can run right through you without even noticing. Maybe needed multiple weeks just to gain the courage to leave whatever room had become a temporary grave. Maybe a permanent one depending on if a body was ever found and taken to be buried.

At least Scott had Vincent. To be honest, he got incredibly lucky considering his best friend has been able to be there for him all these years. Able to see and hear him. Can even respond to questions in front of others with sign language when backs are turned. If the purple man wasn’t able to, if he never found the ghost and promised to continue staying by each other’s side, Scott might not’ve calmed down before severely injuring Mike. He might’ve even joined the animatronics in killing every night guard just to send Afton a message someone’s biding their time.

He might’ve even tried to kill Vincent and succeeded.

At least it hasn’t been long enough that Jeremy’s thought about going down that path. Maybe the Toys are owed a thank you for that.

“S-S-Sorry,” Jeremy sniffles as he pulls away, hands wiping at his tears before freezing when there’s only a phantom feeling of wetness where they should be. “I’m still not u-u-used to this.”

And that’s something that won’t change no matter how much time passes. “It’s a lot. How long have you been a ghost for?”

“A y-y-year.”

Now Scott feels awful avoiding this location as much as he can. Vincent’s one thing, but the one who’s already dead shouldn’t have let himself be controlled by bad memories. Not when he can’t get killed again.

“I’m sorry we missed you,” he begins, eyebrows raising when Jeremy immediately waves his hands.

“N-No, it’s okay! The Toys have k-k-kept me company! And I sleep d-during th-the day before playing the...” The kid’s eyes widen before he gasps. “They’re y-y-your recordings!”

Oh God.

“Holy shit,” reminds Scott that Mike is still here. And wearing a shit-eating grin. “You have more of those goddamn things, Phone Guy?”

He honestly forgot about the ones for this location. He can’t be at two places at once, so when it came to choosing which play button he’d much rather press, it ended up being for the ones at Freddy Fazbear’s. Especially because it was the least he could do to try and ensure no one else ended up with the same fate. Not that it really seemed to do much, and he couldn’t exactly make better one’s considering that would make Afton extremely suspicious and poke around in things Scott would never want him to. And over the years he forgot there were others. Many, many others.

“You’ve been playing them?” Scott asks. Grateful someone has been helping those hired for this location for the past year. Worried how Jeremy knows they exist.

“The Toys told me a-a-about them! Said th-they were helpful for n-n-new g-guards, so I’ve been p-playing them. I accidentally s-slept in on Mike’s first shift, but he d-d-didn't need it, so I’ve been helping in o-other ways.”

So Jeremy wasn’t as unlucky guard and instead met his untimely end another way. By the way he talks about the Toys, it doesn’t seem like it was a death by animatronic at all. Which is concerning, but not as much as apparently being able to help Mike during his shift.

It doesn’t help that Mike is nodding his head. “We’ve been fucking shit up.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Scott whirls around at the familiar growl, swallowing down fear clawing at his throat at the sight of Marionette slowly walking down the hallway toward them. It’s irrational to be afraid of the puppet, and yet the ghost’s heart would’ve started beating widely if he still had one as he’s given a glare.

At least he’s not alone, Jeremy squeaking at the towering animatronic’s presence. “Long time no see, Mari.”

“Cut the bullshit, Cawthon. Where the hell is he?”

“Outside,” Scott says honestly. “He won’t hesitate to come inside if you go after Mike, however.”

“Seriously?” Bon demands as he peers into the hallway. An angry finger is pointed toward said night guard who returns it with a middle finger. “How the fuck did this asshole get your blessing?”

“At this point they’re adopting everything they come across,” Marionette growls. “I’ll go tell the other’s Scott’s teaching Jeremy he should trust strangers if they’re offering candy.”

“I am doing no such thing!” Scott calls after the retreating figures.

“And I didn’t offer Jerber shit!” Mike joins in.

“Michael, if you’re not sitting at the desk and winding the music box in three seconds, God so help you.”

Mike obediently does as he was instructed, though they both know it’s not out of fear for what Scott would do. He wishes it was at the very least it was to ensure the young man isn’t killed tonight, but they also know that’s not the reason either.

Scott sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Well aware it’s his own fault for not checking the time despite knowing the Toys would be waking up soon.

“A-A-Are you leaving?” Jeremy quietly asks.

Scott looks at the kid looking a bit unsure if this is just a first meeting, or an only meeting. Because Mike would’ve confirmed he’ll be switching between the restaurants weekly, meaning the ghost will be alone all over again. And when you’re dead, you have no influence on if schedules get changed or if someone new to hire for the position is found.

Fellow ghosts have no obligation to come back when the animatronics have made it clear his presence isn’t wanted.

“I’ll be back,” Scott promises. “At some point this week. And next week when Mike’s at the other restaurant, but I have a feeling he’ll be dragging you over there with him.”

Jeremy hugs him again. “Thank y-y-you.”

This is going to get complicated.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#and here's a ghost!#I have also finally made a list of all of the current projects I have going on #I went through them all #tossed out the ones I'll continue at a later date #but for now I like what I've got!#so I will be posting that sometime this week #but ghosts for today!#I hope ya'll enjoy and have a great day!#BTE writing #Ghost Jeremy AU #To See And To Hear #FNAF bois #cw #content warning

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kynyboiii · 6 months

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Cant sleep, so in the meantime, have this Michael Afton drabble/character study that's mainly focused in a self-reflection/flashback to the Bite of '83. I did it a few years ago. It was just sitting in my ipad doing nothing and I'm actually pretty proud of it :]

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“And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.”

Michael frowned as he sat in the cramped security office. The temperature is rising to sweltering heats. Metal started to soften and the beginnings of a crackle of electrical fire picked up from beyond the room. As Henry Emily spoke on, the decrepit man thought back on his life.

His childhood was less than good, and Michael had been less than bad. His father had been a resilient, apathetic man. He didn’t show any emotion to his late wife nor children if it was not for show or ridicule. He was prone to cruel words and physical punishments for his kids while Clara was drained from his manipulation and take, take, take, never give attitude. It consequently lead to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).. It consequently led to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).

After that, William seemed to turn his sights on his first son. The remarks were subtle, but just jarring enough to reverberate in Michael’s head. The cruelty turned from outright cold disgust to bittersweet; micro aggressions that couldn’t be picked up by anyone outside the Afton household, if it could even be called that. The physical punishments varied in occurrence and eventually was replaced by those poignant words. Sometimes he wished that his father would just beat him like he used to, because then he wouldn’t be forced to doubt his father’s hatred towards him.

It went on for years like that. William always favored his first daughter and youngest son. Elizabeth was a rather sassy and demanding girl. She could command a room like her father and she had the stubbornness to match in volume. That stubbornness eventually got her killed by an animatronic that was modeled to the likeliness of her. It was, ironically, made by the father.

Evan had caught a glimpse of what happened from behind a corner. He had told Michael after a full night of terrors. His dark brown eyes were clouded and glassy from the tears that streamed down his blotched face. His brother had always been a bit of a crybaby, but he was never this bad. He never sobbed so loudly to the point Michael had to cover his mouth to keep William from hearing, because then they both would be in trouble for waking him at 6 am. The boy cried about torn, rotting versions of the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza animatronics. About metal claws that shone, but definitely had rust. About a finger-trap plush of Spring Bonnie from Fredbear’s Family Diner. About how his Fredbear plush would never comfort, only offer somber, semi-compressible advise. Michael had, of course, consoled Evan during the aftermath of his night-terrors, but had left him to his fearful devices.

Meanwhile, the subtle grip his father had on him began to tighten to the near point of suffocation. William whispered about Elizabeth’s death to him in passing. Like it was a regular conversation. About how he should have been watching her. How it was his fault she was gripped by Circus Baby’s claw and dragged into the stomach hatch to compress her bones and organs into a bloody mess. How he would pay for letting it happen, but not yet. It wasn’t time. I have something planned for you, dear son.

Michael could feel himself be put under the scrutiny of his father. It was like a chained collar made of electric barbed wire that would fire off if he swallowed, shallow or not. It made his anxiety and depression worsen and turn into an especially cruel form of bullying that targeted anything that made him feel like curling up into a ball and wasting away like some pitiful creature (That made him want to give in to his father’s ministrations). Sadly, his main subject turned into his younger brother. The way he cried and sobbed about Elizabeth and his nightmares made Michael feel sympathetic, but it was the way he garnered positive attention from their father was what made him want to (give up) pummel Evan. So, he began to play his cruel jokes on the boy. He tore the Foxy plush’s head off. He bought a Foxy mask to jumpscare him with because he remembered that Evan was the most afraid of the Foxy that appeared in his nightmares. Evan eventually stopped coming to him in the early mornings and William had begun to tell him how Michael was growing to be just like him (no, no, no, no, no, no).

Michael’s biggest regret was his final prank.

It was preceded by 5 days of torturing Evan in the cold, mechanical-like walls of their home. He remembers locking him in Parts and Service at Fredbear’s during that week and jumping out at him in various rooms. He vividly remembers surrounding the poor, tired, tortured boy at Fredbear’s Family Diner with his equally cruel friends. Each had on their own mask from Freddy Fazbear’s. They each had taken a limb into a strong grasp and dragged the shaking, sobbing boy towards the stage. Fredbear’s gold fur shone in the lights that had seemed just a bit too bright that day. The rabbit, Spring Bonnie, plucked at the strings of his banjo while his green eyes seemed to be staring into the soul of Michael. It made him think of his father, who had always favored the rabbit over the bear. It made him quiver with fear and he could feel the barbed collar around his neck again. The barbs pressed into his veins and all it did was squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that they’re at the edge of the stage - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that his friends (acquaintances) agree to lift Evan up to Fredbear (Evan had crawled into his bed that morning, crying silently that a creature resembling a twisted, shadowy Fredbear had nearly bitten his head off with the mouth on its stomach (stomach hatch) and almost torn him in half with its claws while laughing cruelly. It sounded like demented radio static, Mikey, it was terrible) - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice Evan pleading for his life while he is shoved head first into (Nightmare’s) Fredbear’s mouth - and squeeze (he promised Evan that he wouldn’t let anything bite or tear him apart that morning (you’re just like me, Mikey)) -

The deafening crunch of Evan’s skull made everyone in the diner fall silent. Michael notices the blood gushing from the animatronic’s mouth and pooling onto the floor. The gold dyed red as Spring Bonnie chuckled and stilled in his movements. Someone had puked, there’s multiple screaming, everyone is snatching their kids up and taking them outside, someone is calling the police.

Those green eyes settled on Michael. He didn’t see an animatronic, but rather, he saw his father. Cruel light hidden behind a facade of goodwill. Overpowering, commanding listen to me, listen to me, only to me or you’ll regret it.

He can feel his brother’s blood on him. It coated his arms, the damned Foxy mask, the front of his shirt. Some of it dripped into the mask and on his face. His eyes are trained on the limp body of Evan, who was slowly beginning to slid out of Fredbear’s mouth. The blood made the passage slick and quick once he reached the edge of Fredbear’s teeth. The innocent, tortured, tired, dead boy fell into Michael’s still outstretched arms. His… head… dear god it’s basically gone. The gray matter’s fluid and blood stained the messy chestnut brown hair and ran down his body like some morbid shower. Bits of cracked skull stuck out of the mush and tangled in the matting hair. Michael’s mask fell off; the flimsy string having snapped. And it was like he could see clearly now. He did this. He allowed this to happen. He killed Evan. He killed him. He killed him. It’s his fault. His throat is closed up and is choking him of air. The eyes of Spring Bonnie, William Afton, his father, gleamed down onto him. His eyes rolled back into his skull and he fainted, still holding the little brother he tortured in his bloody arms.

#fnaf #michael afton #afton family #wish i could format like i want on here without it being an annoying asshole #ignore bad grammar if its there #i did not proof read #ignore inconsistencies too since this was from like 3 yrs ago #probably more than that actually

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gwenbrightly · 21 days

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Vanny Quest Chapter 2

Vanessa jolts awake to the all too familiar sensation of the room spinning and her ears ringing. She clutches her head as she begins to sit up, trying to prevent the headache she knows is going to hit her like a sledgehammer in the next few seconds. Her vision blurs and she almost passes out again as the pain takes hold. She barely manages to crawl to a garbage bin before throwing up what feels like everything she’s eaten in the past three days. She collapses back onto the floor and tries not to move. Why is it so much worse this time? It’s always been a little hard to function after… well. That. But not to the point that she can’t see straight. Never to the point that it feels like she’s been disemboweled, then stitched back together. (At least, not since the first time.)

Vanessa stares at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. How did she get up to the abandoned security office for Fazerblast? The last thing she remembers is coming to in the sewers after her alter ego chased that lost kid - George? Geoffrey? No, Gregory (that might have been his name) - down there. And then making her way back up to the atrium. The rest is all a hazy jumbled mess of memories. There’s no telling how long she’s been out. Or what might have happened while she was.

Vanessa is used to waking up in weird places. Thanks to this possession, this curse, or whatever the heck is wrong with her, it happens all the time. Usually her uniform is stained with substances she’d rather not think about too deeply. The missing person reports often follow. But not always. Sometimes there’s no one looking. She’s not sure which is worse. The hands that don’t stop shaking for days, nausea, and crippling guilt are pretty much the same either way.

She blinks. Did she come up here to plan another hunt tonight? Oh god. Vanessa sits up. What if she already went out again and she just doesn’t remember it? What if she killed that kid?

Panicking, Vanessa looks down at her hands. Clean. And her uniform. No blood this time, but that doesn’t mean anything. She knows better than to hope. She groans as a fresh wave of pain ripples through her. If she really did kill Gregory tonight… she deserves it. Vanessa has tried to quit her job time and time again, but somehow the letter of resignation never gets turned in. Over and over, she returns to the Pizzaplex and more people get hurt because of her.

Vanessa shakily pulls herself to a stand, leaning on the desk for support and glances around the room. It’s even more trashed than usual (Vanny is not a cleanly individual in the slightest). Almost like there’s been a fight of some sort, which is altogether possible. The purple computer chair Vanny stole from somewhere lies on its side in a corner. The blanket from the bed is now crumpled on the floor and she doesn’t see the pillow anywhere. But by far the most surprising thing she notices is that the Princess Quest III arcade machine’s screen is now lit up with a bright red “ERROR” message. Okay. Well, that proves it, then. Someone else has been here. Vanessa doesn’t remember playing the game and there’s no way Vanny would do something that would endanger her master’s plans.

For the first time in a long time, she’s beginning to feel hopeful. This changes everything! Vanessa might finally be free! She has to get out of here. She has to know for sure.

Crossing to the door, a little more quickly than her body is truly ready for (whee, more nausea), Vanessa is surprised to discover that it’s somehow been locked from the outside. Try as she might, the handle won’t budge. She can’t say wouldn’t have done the same; someone probably should have locked her up years ago. That said, the timing couldn’t be any more inconvenient. She peers through the window to see if maybe someone is still nearby. And stares at the scene unfolding as on the other side of the glass.

////

“Geez, Freddy,” Gregory says in frustration, “can’t you sit still for five seconds?”

“I am sorry, Superstar. Vanny must have nicked some of my internal wiring,” Freddy tells him regretfully.

Gregory glares at the knife currently sticking out of his friend’s back. Freddy has already attempted to remove it himself, to no avail, which is why he is currently sitting on the floor so his height is not a barrier to Gregory’s assistance.

“That sure sucks,” Gregory mutters.

“It does, but I do not think Vanny will be bothering us anymore.”

“She’d better not. I’m sick of her,”

Freddy twitches again and Gregory cringes.

“We really gotta get that thing out of you before it causes permanent damage,” Gregory comments, giving the knife another tug. It doesn’t budge.

“Perhaps if you shift your position so one of your feet is planted on my back, you will have better leverage,” Freddy suggests. It would be rather helpful if they could remove the knife before moving on.

“O-okay,” Gregory agrees, wondering how on earth Freddy can be so calm about having been stabbed by a homicidal maniac less than fifteen minutes ago. He is still freaking out majorly about the whole thing. Vanny came so close to- No. Let’s not think about that right now. (Or ever). He follows Freddy’s suggestion. With one foot on the floor and one foot on the animatronic’s back, Gregory gingerly gives the knife a tug. It loosens just a teeny bit. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and tugs again, harder.

“One more time,” Freddy encourages.

In hindsight, Gregory may have pulled a little too hard this time. The knife pulls free from Freddy’s casing and Gregory cartwheels backwards, not expecting it to come out so easily. He lands a few feet away from Vanny’s hideout with an ‘oof’. When he goes to right himself, he notices her watching him. Darn. He’d been hoping she would stay knocked out longer than that!

“Gregory! You-You’re not dead!” She calls through the window sounding way happier than she should.

“No thanks to you, backstabber.” Gregory retorts, giving her his fiercest glare. He’s pretty proud of himself for the comeback.

“Yeahhh… um. Sorry about that?” She says awkwardly, and she must be a good actress, because for a moment, Gregory almost believes that she really does feel bad about what she’s done to him and Freddy.

“Gregory! Are you okay?” Freddy asks, having sufficiently recovered.

“I am,” Gregory replies, “but I wish she wasn’t!”

“Vanny.” Freddy places a paw on Gregory’s shoulder protectively. And gives the woman a dirty look of his own.

“I can’t imagine what I’ve put you through. I’m so, so sorry,” Vanny begins.

Gregory rolls his eyes, not interested in hearing some made up sob story. There are about a million things he’d rather be doing.

“I didn’t want to hurt you - that wasn’t me. I mean, it was me. But it wasn’t! I wasn’t in control… She was! Ugh. This is all so confusing,” Vanny continues, pacing back and forth in front of the window and gesturing wildly.

“Vanny… Officer Vanessa… What are you talking about? Who was in control if you were not?” Freddy asks, curiosity piqued. It’s a dangerous question, he knows, but he can’t help himself. The others have been acting strangely all night and he is quite worried about them even without the damage caused by their various… accidents. Could what Vanessa is telling them be connected?

Vanessa stops pacing. “It started back when I started as a beta tester for the VR game Fazbear entertainment was working on awhile back… somehow the data they scanned in to use as a base was carrying something… Evil. After playing the game for a few days, I started hearing this voice in my head, and I know it sounds crazy, but it started forcing me to do stuff I wouldn’t normally do. Small things at first, then bigger things. I even started having memory problems after awhile. Eventually, the voice introduced itself as Glitchtrap. He claimed to be a digital version of William Afton.”

“Wait. That name sounds familiar,” Freddy muses, trying to remember where he’s heard it before.

“I’m not surprised. Corporate tries to keep it under wraps, but William Afton was one of the original founders of the company. He was also a suspect in the disappearance and murder of quite a few children back in the day, but they never caught him,”

“So, what exactly are you saying? That you’ve been possessed by William Afton’s serial killing ghost?” Gregory asks. The thought is wrong on so many levels… and yet… there’s definitely something deeper going on. He’s seen weird stuff happening in practically every corner of this place. Vanessa (he’ll accept for now that maybe Vanny and Vanessa are different entities) seems to be telling the truth, and he’s usually a pretty good judge of character. He has to be. Otherwise he’d probably be in juvie by now.

“I don’t know, to be honest. But something, a ghost, a virus, got inside my head and took over. Something that made me become Vanny. Something that wanted to follow in Afton’s footsteps or raise him from the dead, maybe? It’s hard to remember everything he told me…”

“That is… worrying,” Freddy says with a frown. This could be much more serious than he thought. “Do you think that the others have been infected with this Glitchtrap virus as well?”

“Definitely. And I’d be willing to bet that they have been for quite awhile,” Vanessa replies, “they’ve all developed some unhealthy habits that weren’t originally part of their programming.”

“Like Chica and her obsession with Monty Mix,” Gregory finishes for her. A robot being so obsessed with food has always felt weird to him.

“Yeah. Stuff like that keeps everyone distracted. They’re so focused on fixing Chica’s eating habits or Monty’s sudden anger issues that they don’t notice the other things that are happening.”

Like kids going missing. No one is brave enough to say that out loud, though.

“It is a relief to know that they have not been consciously trying to kill you, Gregory,” Freddy says, turning to his small charge.

“Yeah…” Gregory tries to smile at him, but he’s suddenly feeling more than a little guilty for going so hard on the other animatronics. Yes, in their current state they kinda deserved it. And yes, he did (most of) it to protect himself. But… What if they were all kind and warm and loyal like Freddy once upon a time? No one has ever cared like Freddy before. And Gregory just trashed all his friends without a second thought.

“I think we’re all free of the virus, at least for now,” Vanessa is saying.

“What do you mean?” Gregory asks her. It would be nice if they didn’t have to worry about being chased around the Pizzaplex anymore.

“There’s something about the Princess Quest games that’s special. She-Vanny kept moving them to different places every time I found one, so I never really had a chance to experiment with them, but I’ve felt different since you played the one in here,” she explains.

“Now that you mention it,” Gregory says thoughtfully, “I thought I saw a weird wave of golden light coming out of the machine when I beat the game.”

“Does that mean we are safe? I do not want any other children to experience what Gregory has tonight.” Freddy comments. He is proud of his Superstar’s bravery and resourcefulness, but that does not justify what Gregory has been through.

Vanessa stares at them through the window sadly for a moment before answering.

“I wish I could say yes, but I don’t think this is over. Vanny and Glitchtrap have been working on something down in the sinkhole. I don’t think any of us will be truly safe until we find out what it is… and destroy it.”

#myfics #fnaf fanfiction #five nights at freddy's #five nights at Freddy’s fanfiction #five nights at Freddy’s security breach #fnaf security breach #fnaf vanessa #fnaf gregory #freddy fazbear #fnaf vanny #Vanny with a knife

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