Just Graduated With My Masters Degree :)

just graduated with my masters degree :)

“   i’m not going to tell you   all   my dark secrets .   ”

❥     𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝟑𝟓𝟖/𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 ( 𝟏.𝟓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐗)   (   𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑   )    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

★ — "Lame!"

Half - shouted in declaration, the ghost of a laugh underlaying the word. He's leaning backwards over the edge of the couch, wild strands of hair falling across his face as he pushes his way into Michael's personal space. Not unusual for a kid his age, but rare to see Gregory himself behave so unabashedly. He grins up at his guardian, wiggling a bit 'till he's comfortable and not winding himself by bending his spine in half.

"Is it cause you know the whole ooooh-mysterious thing you've got going on is the only thing that makes you kind of cool? I bet you've got some cool stories that could make up for it — maybe."

★ — The symptoms of a dance that is met in step ; the monster ( for really, Gregory has no other way to describe the thing. a decaying, decrepit creature hardly resembling anything he has ever seen before that awoke to meet him here, in the pit of earth that sits beneath cursed ground ) moves forward, and in turn the child moves backwards, never letting his eyes stray from Springtrap for fear of what may happen if he were to lose sight for even a moment, hardly allowing himself the luxury to blink. The sight of it causes a steady pulse of fear to thrum through him, one he does his best to keep hidden beneath a brave facade. Even so, he is far more scared of what it might do if he let his guard down for a single moment.

Answer isn't what he'd hoped to hear — childish naivety had thought that things would end in the pit, finally, if he were able to face the very thing that haunts his nightmares, the ultimate unknown from that night. That somehow, finding himself back down here would make all the puzzle pieces fall into place and paint a perfect picture.

( some part of him knows it was foolish, the part that rings with disappointment now. but it's too late. Gregory has already placed himself in the maw of the beast ).

"You —— live here? Why? For how long?"

His questions no longer ring like demands, instead falling to curious intonation that sounds softly throughout the sinkhole. Child - like. A need to question, and a need to understand. Even so, his grip never loosens on the fazerblast in hand ; holds it close to his chest, like a lifeline.

A pause — his head shakes in response to Springtrap's question. He didn't look capable of much, but even so ....

"How do you know about the guard?"

He'd seen the writing, in the old office. Graffiti that read Vanny, a signature bunny mask drawn crudely next to it. But it still wasn't adding up.

"Do you .... know what happened to the other kids that went missing here? If you live here, you must've seen what happened, right?"

𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕, haunting gait turns the rusted thing about with two distinct clashes of metal against flooring below. ears swinging with creaks, as finger twitches. the hissing, fluid-filled breath echoes like a never ending death rattle. turning to face the child as a tongue comes out to lap over yellowed teeth. the nerves and tendons within singing with the 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 of proximity to that which his body is kept alive with. fear. haunting, bone chilling childhood fear. something his disgusting form elicits in spades. a one and only perk of being.. [...] this. though for better or for worse, he is home.

he cannot think of himself as the child does. 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐. hard to see himself. shell of how far he has fallen.

keeping his pace with gregory, springtrap finds himself stopping as his head falls into a series of monstrous twitches. shoulder brought up towards the side of his face. even more in disrepair than last time they saw each other. albeit not this close.

he was not asked for explanation. afton always one to keep his cards held close. a man who had been recording his family since before he'd murdered a single soul in secret. a man whom had an operation built beneath his home. [...] 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝.

purple eyes bore into the child and being still allows his body to calm in twitches, though the rattling doesn't cease. as if he's attempting to haul air through the holes in his body. though tremble causes it to hiss, and crackle into a low chuckle. trying to decide what he should say, and what he should not.

"why -- i live here. [...] this is my home." he responds. [...] his head coming to tilt more-so. "not i, certainly." it's true. (to an extent). he is also his counterpart, though not the body that stands before him.

"does it look like i could have such an affect, in this state?" [...] "perhaps it was the guard. [...] i recall she was looking for you, was she not?"

# I̶N̴S̵E̴R̶T̷ ̷ C̴O̸I̶N̵ ̷ T̵O̵ ̴P̶L̵A̴Y̵

independent &. selective - v̶̢͑a̶̲̺͋́͜n̶̜̎͜e̵̖͚̖̘͐̄̇s̴̯̟̰̃͛̓s̶̤͔͊͒̎͆a̸̡̮̝͓̾̓͗͝ ̷̟̪͈̳͛̋̈́ ̶̘̠͇͝ͅă̸̪͔̞̺b̴̡̮̬̹͑̚b̴̢̙̗͈͐̄̆o̴̩͚͍̒̍̒̿t̷̨̃̑͝,̸̜̿̈́̍̌ VANNY . of five nights at freddy's : help wanted &. security breach. based on my own headcanons &. lore interpretation. written by morgan, 26, est, she/her. 🐇

profoundly normal about guardian / charge relationships in horror media . love when two characters are sent through the maws of hell and one feels desperately responsible for the younger, be it for an actual personal connection or a sense of obligation. when the protector knows they can try to take the brunt of the situation, try to shield the younger as best they can, but they cannot take them away or will this to not be happening. there is no savior, only a companion. only comfort. but it's not enough to keep the monsters away, not entirely. the only way out of the fire is through, and the protector will make goddamn sure the charge makes it.

❛ We always think there's gonna be more time. ❜ @jeremangled :)

THE WALKING DEAD SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS

★ — "Stop it. Shut— shut up."

Jeremy doesn't have to say the truth ; Gregory can feel it settle in the pit of his stomach with an absolute certainty. Overwhelming and unmistakeable, a violent whirlwind of emotions he's felt before threaten to knock him off his feet. His throat burns. His eyes burn. Grief, pity, anger, guilt. The guilt seeping in, filling every crack of his broken self.

There's a bone deep weariness to Jeremy that hadn't been present a few hours ago — the sort of resignation that only comes with the inevitable, especially when you take stupid risks like trying to smuggle a kid outside of the quarantine zone. Gregory's seen the look in his eyes before, reflected back at him only a month ago on the face of his best friend. Just as defeated.

How do you begin to mourn a person still standing in front of you?

There'd been some comfort, then, in thinking that maybe they'd go out together, united in losing their humanity until some poor soul came to put them out of their misery. Here, there's no comfort in companionship to be found.

Michael had made it out unscathed. Gregory was the only person in the world that would never know the real, true fear of turning.

( Marlene had called it a miracle, but he's starting to think it's a fucking curse. is this his life, now? forever haunted by the ghosts he has no choice but to leave behind, always seeing them reflected in the eyes of those his miracle cure wasn't fast enough to save? )

"You're infected, aren't you?"