IS IT ANY WONDER HED TAKEN ONE LOOK AT HIS SISTER AND DECIDED IMMEDIATELY THAT SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING

IS IT ANY WONDER HE’D TAKEN ONE LOOK AT HIS SISTER AND DECIDED IMMEDIATELY THAT SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING ? There’s really no other option: other than binge - watching whatever shitty shows he can find on TV, the only person he has is Ollie, and staring at her now, it seems he barely even has her either. She’s not who he remembers. Maybe he’s remembering wrong ?

But he doesn’t think so. He’s certain something isn’t right; certain something has changed, and not for the better. He’s gazing at her now, an unusually hard look in his eye though it’s aimed at anyone but her. “ Oh yeah ? ” he says, though it comes out more abrasive than he means it. Wincing at his own idiocy, Michael starts over: “ I mean, that’s good. Obviously. But Jesus, Ollie, you look like death warmed up. And coming from me, that’s saying something. ” Decaying appearance hidden under layers of clothing, he doesn’t feel the need to cover up what little of him is visible when it’s only Ollie here. It serves as reminder of what their father is willing to sacrifice for his plans, beyond their shitty childhoods, beyond the horrendous upbringing. Serves as a promise neither of them will ever get mixed up in their dad’s shit again, right? It doesn’t even cross his mind that she would be forced into exactly that.

He’s tackling this all wrong. She’s always been stubborn, and clashing with her over this isn’t going to help anything. Mike sighs, shoulders slouching a little mulishly. He’s never been great at putting thoughts and feelings into words, and though the urge to snap at and fuss over her until she told him what was bothering her is strong, it’ll get him nowhere. So he switches gears, tries to go for a less confrontational approach:

“ How’s the band doing anyway? I feel like it’s been months since you spoke about them. Anything fun happening ? ” A quiet pry into her life as subtly as he can. Hey, at least he has a solid alibi for his questioning — other than heading out for essentials, Mike can’t remember the last time he’d left his apartment. Easier to be a living corpse when you don’t go outside. “ Give me something new. ”

@bitterborne: “You look like you haven’t slept in days.” [for glitchtrap verse 👀?!] protective prompts / accepting

Of course she hasn't told him what happened. How she's now been split in half between who she is and the loyal daughter. It seems the one united front between both sides is not wanting him to know. He wouldn't understand, he'd just try to stop it. Her and their father need time to show their work to Michael first. She doesn't want him to get caught in this, doesn't want him to end up like her. Is what's happening to her really so bad?

At least she has her old habits and reputations to use as excuses for her more strange behavior. Easy to claim she'd been out partying all night when she'd really been working. Easy to dismiss any strange behavior as just her typical strange behavior or the sort of erratic decisions she used to make before. If anything, sometimes she seems better than ever. Other times...well she seemed like a wreck. Right now she's somewhere between the two.

"What? Like that's rare for me?" She tries to seem casual about it, letting out a chuckle. "Been a string of cool shows recently, some of those bands were crazy good." She doesn't remember the last time she got to see or play at a show. She's past that now, time to grow up.

Ballerina (2023) dir. Lee Chung Hyeon

guys please write more of michael going back in time it’s my favorite

HIS FATHER’S WORK OOZES FROM VANESSA LIKE OLD CIGAR SMOKE, AND MIKE ISN’T YET SURE HE CAN HELP. Isn’t sure there is anything to be done: the woman in front of him is clearly exhausted, and he doesn’t think he’d be wrong in saying she’s feeling the heat. Mike’s own eyes stay firmly fixed on his cig, cap pulled low over a mess of fake curls and purpling skin ( though make - up is a godsend for making that slightly less conspicuous, thank God for the twenty - first century ); doesn’t pay her focus at all, like a hunter trying not to startle a cornered rabbit, more than mildly concerned about spooking her away. HERE’S HIS GENIUS PLAN: move slow, start a friendship with her. Or an acquaintance with her, whatever works. Figure out what he can about how to tear his father down one last time and help an innocent person escape his grip. And if Vanessa can be freed, be there if she needs him. It’s far from a solid plan, he’ll admit, but at the moment, one week into work, it’s impossible to have anything else.

Lighter clicks, cig inhaled. The rush of nicotine does little to warm him from the cold that seems to perpetually follow him now, but hey, it’s a small comfort at least. He’ll take what he can get.

ONLY THEN DOES HE TURN TO HER. Keeps his expression casual, oblivious. He’s treading slow here: has to see the extent of the glitch virus on her before he does anything to act. The last thing he wants is for her to alert his father that someone is onto them. “ I’m Mike, ” he tells her, and belatedly realizes his hands are full, “ I’m the — hang on — ”

Shoves his lighter back into his pocket, offers an awkward gloved hand to her in greeting. “ I just started working here last week, ” he says, and that’s not a lie: as soon as he’d heard the name Fazbear he’d immediately suspected some fucked - up shit to be taking place ( though this is a little worse than he expected ). “ I’m the, uhm, the new technician. Mike Fritz. You’re Vanessa, right ? ” No point acting overly familiar. If he comes off weird now, he might just blow everything.

“Mind if I smoke?” — @bitterborne !!

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

✧ . * ｡ ⋆ — Vanessa is exhausted.

That much is clear to see ; her demeanor is reminiscent of a fawn, helpless in the unfamiliar surroundings of her new world, wide - eyed, jumping at the slightest of noises, and looking as if a strong wind might be enough to blow her over. Weak. ( in need of saving protection ). There's bags under her eyes.

Moments of solace are hard to come by, between the chaos of the pizzaplex and the static of her own mind. She's tucked herself behind the building, citing a need for a break — management certainly won't be happy, but Vanessa couldn't give less of a fuck. Arms wrapped around her torso, as if trying to shield herself from the elements ; but there is no comfort to be found in such a gesture. ( how can she possibly comfort herself, knowing what she's done? ).

The sudden voice makes her jump. ( everything seems to make her jump ). Lets wide - eyes flicker to the newcomer, before shrugging half - heartedly.

"Sure — go ahead."

everything mike :)

MICHAEL LIGHTS UP WHEN HE SEES THE GIFT THE UNIVERSE HAS BROUGHT HIM — AND AT THE BREAKFAST. Jeremy’s smile is reward enough for his shitty minimum wage job and even makes the other baggage shrink for a moment: hastening his way towards his friend, Michael greets him with a faint smile of his own, brimming with delight to see him. “ My hero, ” he says, stifling a yawn and tugging off that night security vest, “ what’d I do without you, huh ? ”

He’s always found his uniform constricting. How could he not? Working in a place with more memories than he cares to admit, for a man he knows deep down is a monster. Night shift is kinder to him than day shift, where he cannot shrink away from the bright sunlight and the knowledge that what his father does what he does is hurting innocent people. When he’s the only one there, he can stew in those thoughts in peace . . . If he’s not being attacked by animatronics from all sides, obviously.

But being with Jeremy — well, when he manages to forget about his injury, about the brimming fears that his own and his father’s tampering had been the cause of the Mangle malfunction — gives him a chance to breathe. To feel a modicum of normalcy again. “You’re literally my favourite person of all time, I hope you know that,” he says, dismissing his thoughts and nodding towards the bag, “ it hit 4am and I got hungry as hell. ” Gone is the heavy weight on his shoulders, the stoop of his posture: around his friend Michael stands a little taller, regains a light in his tired eyes. “ But hey, I survived. How was your night? ”

❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜ / tossing michael (@bitterborne) at you first ! !!

❝ I know who I am when I'm alone / I'm something else when I see you ❞ | prompt by @bitterborne !

the uniforms changed when the toy animatronics were stashed ... what's what Jeremy was told at least . yet he still held onto his uniform . one set stained crimson - the other in perfect condition ...

those pastels stood out to him every morning . sitting on the edge of his dresser . colours he wouldn't forget .

Michael's uniform held a darker scheme . deep midnight colours and black . blending in with the nights he patrolled .

Jeremy didn't like that uniform . but it seemed to suit Mike . whom ; after his shift , Jeremy had met up with . providing food and company .

he didn't fit in with the sun . Jeremy knew that . where he basked in the sunlight and beamed even after his injury . Mike held the night with him . his friend was a solemn creature .

yet . observant as he was , he took notice of that bit of sunlight .

much like this morning when he greeted him . a bag of breakfast burritos in hand and a beaming smile . he saw the change in body language in his presence .

" another night come and gone ~ I got you an extra hashbrown . "