blametheeditor

[blametheeditor]

To See And To Hear | Chapter 4

First | Previous

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 still Friday!

_____________

Jeremy can’t help but pace in the attempt to calm his nerves as he waits. 

Mike, on the other hand, isn’t nervous in the slightest. Had even put his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair, hat over his eyes in order to take a nap. Though this time he’s keeping all four wheels flat on the ground. 

And to be honest, seeing Mike so relaxed he’s able to sleep makes Jeremy feel a lot better about the fact he’s going to be meeting another ghost. Because if someone who’s still alive isn’t concerned despite Scott having warned them it most likely won’t be a calm meeting, then there really shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?

It would be right, if Jeremy didn’t know that Mike is the most fearless person he has ever met. Doesn’t flinch when animatronics who have discussed how they’ll kill him are standing only a few feet away. Antagonizes them at every opportunity by cussing them out proudly, though they’re starting to realize it’s done out of fondness. But his point still stands! 

So Jeremy continues to pace. Thinking about everything that can go wrong. Feels himself begin to tremble as he remembers what Scott said about people who die violently, that they tend to hold resentment toward the living even if they don’t deserve it. And if Scott had almost hurt Mike even though he cares about the night guard and that’s the reason why it almost happened then-! 

“Jerber,” Mike grumbles, earning a fearful squeak. “I can’t fucking sleep with your pacing, asshole.” 

Jeremy immediately stops before wringing his hands in guilt. “S-S-Sorry.” 

Mike moves his hat back to its proper place on his head, raising an eyebrow as he looks the ghost up and down. “What’s fucking with you?” 

“I’m w-w-worried,” Jeremy murmurs. “I-Isn’t it bad Scott w-warned us?” 

Mike looks up at the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. “Phone Guy and Purple Guy haven’t fucked with a lot of ghosts. But if the bastard is happy to follow Douche Bag here, sounds friendly to me. They just want to be goddamn careful. And I don’t listen to shit.” 

At least it’s admitted genuine concerns aren’t always heeded by the man. But that does make Jeremy feel better. He’s never met David, but he’s heard plenty of stories. So, maybe it will be okay. Scott wouldn’t take a chance when it comes to Mike’s life. He hasn’t met Vincent yet, but he’s pretty sure the same thing can be said. 

The ghost imitates taking a deep breath. Glances down the hallway in the hopes Scott appears soon. “When do y-y-you think-?” 

Jeremy jumps at the sound of keys unlocking the door. Becomes frozen when he realizes that’s not the sound he wants to hear. Because keys means a living person is entering the restaurant. Meaning the unknown ghost is here before Scott is. 

He’s going to be meeting them alone. 

Sugar honey iced tea. 

“Why are the lights on?” a voice growls, sounding almost menacing as it echos down the hallway. And then a towering figure appears at the very end, looking intimidating at such a far distance. With a fierce glare that has Jeremy thankful that, for once, he’s invisible. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Hey, Douche Bag,” why did Mike decide on that nickname! 

“Fucked Up Night Guard,” and never mind, now he understands... 

Jeremy holds his breath despite knowing he doesn’t need to breathe in the first place. But it’s truly terrifying watching the suited man make his way closer. Looking a lot like his disappointed father coming to lecture his disgrace of a son. He expects yelling. Possibly the demand Mike explains himself before interrupting and sending him out of the restaurant. 

Instead David shoves Mike’s legs, forcing him to sit in the chair properly. “I know you weren’t raised properly, but even Eggs knows not to put your feet up on the desk.” 

“I wasn’t goddamn hurting it.” 

“It’s the principle of the matter, show some respect. And why are you here so early, it’s only half past 8.” 

“Wanted to fuck some shit up.” 

Jeremy waits, tense because he knows there’s going to be shouting. But the longer the two talk to each other without any raised voices, the more he relaxes. Up until the moment he spots a much smaller, much friendlier looking figure standing just outside of the hallway. Who’s distinctly transparent. 

Any fear he might’ve felt considering this was the ghost Scott had been concerned about, and Jeremy feels nothing but pity. This ghost, he doesn’t look older than sixteen. He died a violent death with no one around to help him? 

The ghost suddenly looks over at him with wide eyes. Takes a moment to glance over at David before giving a small hopeful wave toward Jeremy. One that’s immediately returned. 

“Not that I love our conversations,” makes both of them jump at the hostility dripping from David’s voice. “But I came here at this time to avoid you.” 

If Jeremy had to talk to the tall man, he would’ve agreed and left, no matter how much time would be wasted going home just to come back later to work his shift. But Mike only shrugs, unbothered by the fact his presence isn’t wanted. “Sorry, Douche Bag, guess you’re shit out of luck. But I can fuck off to another room, or I can help with shit you need. Your fucking choice.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before a finger is pointed down the hallway. “Show me where the keys to the basement is. Your dumbass of a manager keeps avoiding my calls like a coward.” 

“Not my shitty ass manager,” Mike says as he obediently stands up to lead David to the keys. 

“They are whenever you’re working a shift in this dump.” 

Jeremy almost follows after his friend out of habit, only holding himself back this time with a reminder he technically has a guest. And considering Scott isn’t here then the responsibility relies solely on him. Someone who has never been good at human interaction. Or, ghost interaction in this case. 

Meaning he watches Mike leave with a look of panic. 

“I’m Fritz,” earns a squeak of surprise. But instead of being watched with bewilderment or even annoyance, Jeremy’s only sees a smile. “Were you the friend Vincent told me about?” 

“N-N-No,” Jeremy responds. Waves his hands at the way it sounded like Fritz somehow came to the wrong place. As if he was supposed to meet different ghosts. “I-I mean I’m not Vincent’s f-f-friend, but I know h-his friend! He’s late, though, s-so f-for now it’s...just me.” 

That was the worst way to greet someone newly dead! He’s terrible at this, he’s going to make Fritz regret ever wanting to meet another ghost! He’ll think no one cares and this was all a big mistake agreeing to meet them and he’ll never want to talk to any of them including Mike or Vincent and it’ll all be Jeremy’s fault! 

“Late?” Fritz asks, his smile growing wider instead of it disappearing. “Does he work too?” 

“I don’t th-th-think so. He told me h-he follows Vincent everywhere, b-b-but h-he's never given details.” Jeremy wrings his hands. Freezes as the question fully processes. “T-T-Too? Do you work?” 

Fritz blushes. “I, uh, answer the phones after hours for Mr. Harrison.” 

“Like r-recordings?” he asks, a little confused. It’s a much more professional title for what him and Scott do. 

“No, actual calls with customers,” the teenager clarifies with a nervous chuckle. “You’d be surprise how many parents are willing to call at midnight just to be able to book for a party. Or people who just don’t realize how late it is and wanting more information on how the animatronics work.” 

Jeremy stares for a moment. Slowly thinks over what all of it meant until it registers that a fellow ghost not only has an actual job, but he talks to those who are living. 

“They h-h-hear you?” Jeremy breathes. Amazed by the thought someone other than Mike would be able to actually hear him with just a phone. 

“Sometimes I wish they didn’t,” Fritz grins. “There’s been a few times I sighed a little too loudly while talking to Mr. Harrison. I’m just glad I don’t really need my paycheck because at this point he’s lowered it to a dollar an hour.” 

Jeremy’s mouth almost drops open at someone docking a paycheck for sighing. “Your boss s-s-sounds...” 

“Controlling? Egotistical? Definitely will never figure out on his own a ghost is working for him?” the younger guesses. And even though it’s been numerous times this is someone who had a violent death, there’s no trace of malice, of anger. There’s no hint of frustration even though Jeremy certainly would be working for someone like that with seemingly no way out. Even if he couldn’t use the money, it’d still upset him! 

But Fritz seems to have more control over his emotions than Scott does. Or maybe that’s just his personality. Whatever it is, Jeremy likes him. Feels guilty for ever thinking Fritz is someone to be scared of, or worried that he’d lash out at someone. 

“...i-interesting.” 

Fritz laughs at the very kind way of describing it. “So do you work?” 

“K-K-Kind of? I help M-Mike keep the T-T-Toys out of the office,” Jeremy murmurs. Compared to what Fritz does, how can he claim he works? He can’t even get in trouble, and if he doesn’t wind the toy box in time then Mike would get killed. But if he doesn’t do it, no one will, because apparently Mari doesn’t deserve to have his music played. Even if it’s the only way to ensure Mike isn’t killed. 

There may come a day when Jeremy gets as upset as Scott did due to Mike’s disregard for death... 

Fritz gives him a confused look. “Why do you need to keep them out? Do they like to mess with the paperwork?" 

Jeremy suddenly feels like he is completely unequipped to explain that the animatronics, most likely including Fritz’s, aren’t as friendly as believed. It definitely took him a while to come to terms with the Toys not only being murderer’s, but enjoy it. It’s not something you just say, though. 

“D-D-Did you work at Freddy’s b-before?” 

“For about a month,” Fritz says, his voice getting quite, eyes watching the ground as if it’ll disappear. And maybe it even might because it seems like the younger is fading. “I was a waiter before my...accident.” 

Oh. So that means... 

Jeremy reaches his hand out before he can think about it being a bad idea. He doesn’t touch Fritz, not wanting to make the younger uncomfortable, but his hand is almost immediately grabbed. Gently squeezed in what he could safely assume is meant to be a thank you. There’s no sudden hug like he did to Scott, but at least Fritz doesn’t get any dimmer. 

“I-I-I never worked for Freddy’s b-before I died,” Jeremy offers, hoping it sounds supportive. Because he knows what it feels like, haunting an unfamiliar place he never thought would be his grave. One that was meant to be a happy memory instead of becoming a fatal visit. “It’s k-kind of cool learning s-secrets I-I-I never would’ve otherwise.” 

Fritz laughs loudly, most likely not expecting such a morbid sentiment. Which Jeremy hadn’t meant it to be! “That’s true.” 

“Hopefully anything you do learn doesn’t scare you away,” has both of them jumping, having missed Scott’s entrance. Despite the scare Jeremy’s just glad he’s finally here, more than happy to let the sandy haired man take over and make sure Fritz wants to come back after this. “Sorry for being late. I’m Scott, the friend Vincent told you about.” 

Fritz lets go of Jeremy’s hand in order to shake Scott’s. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Scott smiles. “I hope Jeremy has been good to you.” 

Jeremy sputters, admittedly offended by the thought Scott was concerned he wouldn’t be good to Fritz. “M-M-Me? You should’ve been w-worried about Mike!” 

“I’m worried about him for other reasons,” the older ghost admits. 

“Jeremy’s been amazing,” Fritz reassures. Something that admittedly makes Jeremy feel a little better with the confirmation. “I’m, I was surprised another ghost would want to meet me. Usually they’re a bit possessive.” 

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, Scott’s nodding his head like he understands. “Vincent’s been my best friend even before I died, but I’m more just on the cautious side because I know how dangerous we can get. He hasn’t met Jeremy yet, but that’s more so on preference rather than me not wanting him to.” 

Preference? Does that mean Vincent doesn’t want to meet him? What did Jeremy do someone doesn’t want to meet him! 

“Bad memories?” Fritz guesses, his expression kind and voice soft. 

“For different reasons.” Oh. Oh. He never thought, he never asked how or where Scott- oh no. “But you never have to worry about Jeremy and I.” 

The mentioned ghost jolts when he realizes he hadn’t really been part of the conversation, quick to nod in agreement. “N-N-Never!” 

Fritz beams at the confirmation they want to be friends. Jeremy’s almost scared to ask what kind of ghosts the teenagers met before, but they can talk about it later. And possibly loop back around to what was meant by being possessive. But later! 

“How have you been, Fritz?” 

The teenager suddenly goes pale, looking almost afraid. “I-I’ve been okay.” 

This isn’t how Jeremy expected it to go. He had been emotional finally meeting someone who understood his situation, but it was definitely mostly relief rather than fear. 

“You have a lot of energy, don’t you?” Scott asks. 

Now Jeremy has another thing to be confused about. But Fritz understands as he nods somberly. “I’ve accidentally broken about two phones now.” 

“Only two phones? You haven’t made any lightbulbs explode?” 

“H-Have you?” Jeremy demands, not liking how proud Scott sounds. And what kind of broken, did the phones also explode! 

“More than I can count,” Scott smiles even though he shouldn’t be. “It used to be impossible for me to walk into a room without making at least one explode.” 

Fritz is now grinning. “I haven’t had anything like that, just flickering and making the room cold.” 

“Well color me impressed.” 

“Are we s-s-supposed t-to be able to do that?” Jeremy questions. Not knowing if he wants the answer. 

“It, uh, depends on how you died,” Fritz explains. “Tragic deaths tend to give ghosts a lot of energy and they appear pretty quickly. Quiet deaths give ghosts little to no energy, and it takes them a little longer to appear. Both gain more as time passes, one just starts with a little more.” 

Jeremy looks up at Scott for confirmation, only to find the older watching Fritz with suspicion. “How many ghosts have you met before us?” 

“Oh! Uh, quite a few. But I’ve only met you two after I died.” 

He can’t help but feel disappointed Scott and him weren’t the first Fritz met. At least that means all of his questions can get answered if Scott can’t. 

...wait. 

“You,” Scott begins as Jeremy can only stare at Fritz. They’re both speechless for a minute as the teenager starts to look more and more nervous. “You could see ghosts before this?” 

“Y-Yeah, I-” 

Fritz yelps as Scott grabs his arm before pulling him out of the office. Leaving Jeremy behind, uncertain what just happened. Hesitates before darting after the two, both from the want to not be left out and a little worried what the older ghost was planning. 

He thought they would go into a more private room. Maybe to Mike in order to test something. Instead, Scott walks through the front doors. 

Jeremy stops just before he leaves the restaurant. Stares into the darkness, unsure where Scott and Fritz are without bright lights illuminating the parking lot. For once in over a year he actually contemplates going outside. 

It fills him with terror, thinking about leaving the one place he’s familiar with, even if he only goes out a few feet. Because Fazbear Pizzeria has been the only thing he’s ever known since his death. It’s where the Toys are, the ones who have been there for him ever since the beginning of him haunting the restaurant. It has the sound of Mike’s voice echoing through the dinning room, the only living person he’s interacted with after being nothing but invisible to hundreds of other people. 

What if he gets lost? What if something happens to him? What if he just disappears? 

“Hey, Jerber.” 

Jeremy nearly screams at the sound of Mike’s voice, turning away from the daunting outside to see a familiar smirked aimed toward him. 

“You sc-sc-scared me!” 

“Sorry, Douche Bag got sick of my ass, so I came to fuck with you.” Mike looks outside then back at Jeremy’s glare. “Want to go outside?” 

The ghost wrings his hands before slowly nodding. “W-W-Will...will I d-disappear?” 

“Phone Guy’s ass doesn’t,” the man muses. “Irish Jig walked all the goddamn way here. Why can’t Jerber’s?” 

That...is a valid question. But what if he can’t? Fritz said Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to make the room cold because he had a quiet death. He doesn’t know how Scott died, but he’s made lightbulbs explode. So what if he doesn’t have enough energy to survive like the other two do? 

Jeremy suddenly offers his hand, staring up at Mike with a pleading expression. The man doesn’t say anything as he takes the ghost’s hand. 

It’s warm. Instead of feeling a freezing chill when someone walks through him, Jeremy’s hand feels warm. Like it’s actually being held. And then he’s being tugged forward as Mike opens the door and walks outside. 

Mike isn’t left alone in the night as Jeremy fades away. The ghost stays right by his side, not even growing dimmer as they make their way toward what sounds like an argument. 

“It’s not my fault I apparently repel ghosts!” 

“Who else’s would it be!” 

It takes a moment for Jeremy to realize the voice Scott is yelling at isn’t familiar. And at first, he doesn’t see the unknown person. But he does sense something. Like a bad feeling. One that makes him want to run in the opposite direction. 

He doesn’t resist Mike’s gentle pull as he guides them closer. “Hey, assholes, you forgot the fucking Jerber.” 

Fritz gasps when he spots them. Scott turns to them with a look of remorse. And then a living shadow gives them a smile. 

That. That is what’s giving him the bad feeling screaming danger. 

“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t even think about it,” Scott murmurs. 

“Jeremy, it’s nice to properly meet you,” the shadow greets. “Scotty’s told me so much, I was disappointed when you weren’t part of the welcoming party.” 

Now that they’re closer, the shadow becomes a tall figure. With long hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a Fazbear uniform. Who’s a deep purple from head to toe. 

Scott gestures to the man, as if he doesn’t feel the paralyzing sense of terror radiating from him. “Jeremy, this is Vincent. Fritz, this is Mike. Mike, Fritz.” 

Fritz stares for a moment. Gives a small wave. “H-Hi.” 

“Your boss is a dick, Irish Jig.” 

That earns Mike a smile. But Jeremy can’t seem to move. 

“So about this repellent,” Vincent begins as he looks Jeremy up and down with interest. “How does it work, exactly?” 

“I-It’s a sense.” Fritz only looks concerned. Opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it. “You feel like danger, so spirits will automatically avoid you. Some can ignore it. Others, n-not so much.” 

“Fucking with shit, Purple Guy?” 

“Seems like it,” Vincent hums. “Tell me everything you know.” 

Jeremy has a feeling it’s going to be a long night. 

#I'm excited to start getting further into the worldbuilding #we've got so much lined up #and while I know it's super niche #I hope ya'll are enjoying it #have a great weekend! #FNAF bois #BTE writing #Ghost Jeremy AU #To See And To Hear #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

“Does Mike remind you of anyone.”

Scott hadn’t noticed Vincent’s entrance, and considering David or Eggs haven’t made a ruckus about it, it’s safe to say the purple man has simply been watching. For how long, Scott will never know, he’s just glad Afton doesn’t need something.

But then the sentence fully processes. Looks over at the man who was given the title of lead guard, confused as to what Vincent could possibly be hinting at.

No one comes to mind. Not even Mike’s mother the one time Scott met her several years ago. “Mike?”

“Cover his hat and take a good look at his face.”

Scott rolls his eyes as he obeys, holding his hand out so at the current distance the young man’s face is all he can see.

A sudden recognition doesn’t come. But Mike does seem familiar. It’s hard to place with how ashen his complexion is, but something’s there. In the way his jaw is set. How he holds himself. His sharp blue eyes-

Mike looks like Afton.

Scott stares for a moment more. Upset he hadn’t realized in the year he’s known the young man. Narrows his eyes because even though there’s characteristics, Mike can’t actually be Afton’s son.

“…did Afton ever have a kid?”

“Not that I know of,” Vincent shrugs. “If he did, I think he would’ve told us.”

“Especially considering it would’ve been his kid you-“

“We don’t need to go into details,” the purple man murmurs, giving a small scowl at Scott’s smirk.

“Are you going to ask for a paternity test?”

“Anyone asking William that is going to get killed, Scotty.”

#check in #no further comment #but this is going to be a running gag #and I am here for it #no confirmation on which story I will be posting on this week #Editor is demanding ghosts #but there’s an ask waiting patiently in my inbox #so we’ll see! #hope ya’ll have a good week!

[blametheeditor]

To See And To Hear | Chapter 3

First | Previous

NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. Death scene. 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.

Look, it's not David's fault he constantly fires employees

__________________________________________________

“Thank you for calling-!” 

“It’s me,” has Fritz immediately cutting himself off midsentence, wincing at the annoyance in his boss’ voice. “Do you even look at the number when a call comes through?”

Only David Harrison would get upset over something like accidentally being greeted like a customer. But despite having only worked for the man for little over a month, Fritz should’ve seen it coming from a mile away. He’s the one answering calls for the restaurant afterhours for free, though, so he doesn’t have lot of room to judge. 

“Sorry, Mr. Harrison,” the redheaded teenager apologizes. “What can I do for you?”

“I currently have someone on another line who wants to talk to you. You most likely haven’t met him, but his name is Vincent, and he works directly with William.” 

Fritz feels the phantom feeling of blood draining from his face. He’s seen how he’s supposed to look when he goes pale, his freckles standing out more than usual, his cheeks seeming almost hollow. The only problem is the fact it can’t happen anymore. His skin can’t get paler if there’s no blood anymore, or even skin for that matter. 

Despite being dead, Fritz can’t help but feel terror creeping through him. And not the kind where he’s afraid of getting physically hurt, nor the kind when he realized he will haunt the restaurant he died in for all eternity. No, it’s the kind when you get caught red handed, and everything he has is about to be ripped away. 

“Wh-What does he want to talk to me about?” Fritz asks. Glad he can say something. Unsure how to feel about the fact his mouth is dry even though it’s impossible for it to be. 

David sighs, sounding just as upset about the circumstance. As if he knows he might lose his most ‘competent employee’, a compliment coming from the business man. “He wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. I gave him a full report, including you always clocking in on time and the notes I’ve given you for improvement with customers, but he apparently needs to speak to you. So don’t say anything you wouldn’t say to me, understand?” 

This is bad. Someone who works directly with William found out someone was lying about being hired by the company owner himself. Maybe Fritz should’ve thought out his lie a little more, not say William Afton gave him a position under David. Should’ve thought about the fact updates would’ve been sent. Should’ve thought about there being suspicions an employee is working but not getting paid. 

But it’s too late now. “Y-Yes sir.” 

“It’s only a phone call, Fritz,” David says. “Just don’t fuck it up.” 

“Hello, is this Fritz Smith?” 

The unfamiliar voice greets him before he’s able to prepare himself, forced to face the fact he’s going to get fired. His name removed from the company directory for a second time. Left completely alone for however long it takes for his spirit to finally move on. He may be able to interact with the animatronics, but it’s not the same as talking to someone living. Someone who can fear death. 

Someone who could understand the sheer amount of terror that still grips him at the thought of the stage- 

“Take a deep breath for me. In, and out.” 

Fritz’s head whirls around to make sure he’s not about to be crushed all over again. Feeling his chest heaving even though there’s no lungs to make it happen. Stares at the small room void of stages, or animatronics, or anything except for him, a small desk, and an old phone. 

An old phone he put on speaker when David call. That currently has someone else’s voice emitting from it. One trying to calm him down. 

It takes a moment for him to establish it’s over he can’t get killed again. Imitates taking a deep breath before letting it out. Tenses up as he realizes David’s supervisor is on the phone. “I-I’m so sorry!” 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the man, Vincent reassures. Not sounding mad in the slightest, but David was good at making it seem like he wasn’t upset for a mistake in order to drop your guard for when he explodes. “Trust me, I know how terrifying it is talking to someone who speaks on behalf of William.” 

Fritz forces out a laugh in the hopes it’s assumed that’s the only reason why he panicked. Not for anything more, including but not limited to lying about being a remote worker. “It’s the more common reaction I take it?” 

“Even worse when it’s done in person,” and he can hear the smile in Vincent’s voice. “Though, your case is a special one.” 

“H-How so?” 

“Well...let’s start with the fact you share the same name with someone who was in the obituaries a few weeks ago.” 

Out of everything Fritz was expecting, from there being legal issues for working for free to there being consequences lying about being hired by someone who never did, someone figuring out he’s a ghost haunting the living world was not one of them. 

Because David didn’t so much as blink when his ‘new’ employee said their name was Fritz Smith. The waiter who died at David’s restaurant after only a month of working for him, not only being the one to get it resolved but report it as well. Meaning his name had to filled in multiple times in order to ensure everything was filled properly. But his death was so inconsequential to the business man he only thought it was an odd coincidence, or maybe never even thought about it at all. 

Maybe it’s different when it concerns William Afton, the owner of the most infamous restaurant chains. Instead of waving a hand, everything is combed through thoroughly. To make sure the rumors of night guards dying instead of quitting only stay as rumors. To make sure those who died stayed dead. 

“...am I fired?” Fritz asks softly. The only thing he can think to say. It’s not like he can claim he simply shares a name with someone who died. There wouldn’t be any way to prove he’s alive. Not when no one can even see him even if he stands directly in front of them, the only way he can be heard is through the phone. 

“And get screamed at by David for taking away the only employee he says to be competent? No thank you, you’re more than welcome to continue your ‘remote work’ and save me the trouble,” Vincent says. “Though I am curious why you are working.” 

Fritz’s mouth drops open at how...casually it’s accepted to talk to someone confirmed to be dead. Not even a hint of suspicion this all might be some kind of meticulous ploy. Which wouldn’t make any sense, because what could be possibly gain from it if it was, but people would accept that than the idea they’re conversing with a ghost. 

“I, uh....” Fritz feels his face heat, and he’s tempted to find a mirror at some point to see if he can still blush even though he shouldn’t be able to. But right now he’s just realizing how it’s going to sound. That he’s still working for David despite the fact he’s dead. Was killed at the very restaurant he’s having this call at. “I know I don’t have to, b-but I’m here anyways, and no one can talk to me otherwise so it’s nice. Gives me something to do except wait for night to talk to the animatronics.” 

“So David can actually talk to you over the phone?” No judgement in Vincent’s voice. Just curiosity. 

“Uh, yeah,” Fritz murmurs. “It’s, it’s kind of weird seeing him in person. Because we talk fairly often. But I’m invisible until I’m back on the phone.” 

“To be honest, I admire you wanting to work for him,” Vincent says. “Not taking into account what happened, he’s not exactly the greatest boss.” 

“I haven’t got yelled at yet,” the teenager can’t help but smile, agreeing to the sentiment David clearly doesn’t treasure his employees. But it does mean that Fritz wasn’t battling against the terror of realizing a ghost is a glorified secretary. “He’ll guarantee blame me for having too long of a phone call though.” 

The man chuckles. “Sorry not sorry. I did want to ask, would you be up for having tomorrow night off?” 

“What for?” 

Fritz freezes when he realizes how disrespectful that sounded, relieved when Vincent only hums. “I know there’s not much you can do, but I have a friend who’s in the same position as you. Though unlike David, he doesn’t need a phone to talk to me.” 

It doesn’t click right away. But Fritz is given enough time to mull over the words. Fully comprehend what’s being said. 

Gasps when he realizes “Th-There’s- y-y-you-?” 

“My friend and I would love to meet you face to face.” 

Fritz stares at the concrete wall in front of him, startled when he feels something rolling down his cheek. Attempts to wipe it away but the phantom sensation of tears stay. The reminder he’s nothing but a projection of who he once was. 

But there’s someone else, with a living friend. He knew there would be, somewhere, but he wasn’t going to leave the restaurant to try and find them. Possibly get lost and never find his way back to the only place that’s familiar. 

He doesn’t have to get lost, lose what little he has. They want to meet him. 

“Please.” 

“I don’t know if you heard, but David’s been going to another location, Fazbear’s Pizzeria, to help with improving it. He’ll be going there tomorrow night after Fazbear Entertainment Center closes. How do you feel about following him and we’ll be there waiting for you?” 

Fritz suddenly feels nauseous as something thumps painfully against his chest. It’s so real he almost thinks he’s alive again. He’s not, he can never be, but it doesn’t stop the fact he is nothing short of ecstatic. Nervous following someone who doesn’t know he exists and terrified something could go terribly wrong, but excited. Relieved. Hopeful. 

“I-I can follow him,” Fritz declares. “Tomorrow night?” 

“Tomorrow night,” Vincent confirms. “You know David, he’ll leave as soon as the doors are locked.” 

“Okay,” the teenager nods. Feels a giant grin spread across his face. “Thank you.” 

“I’ll let David know you’ve got the night off, William’s orders for mandatory training. See you tomorrow, Fritz.” 

Getting yelled at for attending ‘mandatory training’ is going to be more than worth it.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#David can't keep track of names #he's fired and hired thousands of employees! #but don't ask how many Fritz's he's come across #his point still stands #hope ya'll have a good weekend! #FNAF bois #BTE writing #Ghost Jeremy AU #To See And To Hear #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

Terms Of Agreement

If fritz dies, get killed or kills himself what would happen ? Would his soul go to the Angels or ?

If Fritz dies before he chooses, his soul would go to the angels!

Before a human reaches a certain age, unless they did something that warrants a guaranteed of going to heaven or hell, their soul is 'up for grabs' so to speak. And by default, their soul belongs to the angels.

That's why monsters and demons like Vincent do everything in their power to ensure a human doesn't die before their soul can be claimed by someone from hell. Because he learned the hard way that, when dealing with fragile mortals, once they know and interact with such hellish beings, things can go south quickly. The worst part is it'd only be bad for him while both the angels and human are as happy as can be.

All beings who deal with souls are aware of it, but not all understand what exactly can fatally wound a human. Such as grabbing too harshly, falling from a large height, etc, etc. As annoying as it is at times how 'protective' Vincent is of Fritz, David and James have to admit they appreciate there's someone who knows what they're doing. Just to ensure their rightful soul stays as theirs to earn.

Of course, certain rules have to be followed. There's loopholes and workarounds, but Fritz will have to pick one of the three. And he will need to do it by a certain date, though there's enough time he won't be feeling the pressure anytime soon!

#thank you for the ask! #I'm glad the lore has been intreiging! #I'll admit I like talking about it #and it helps in ironing out certain details #but I rarely deep-dive/go into/explain certain aspects for all stories unless prompted #so it's been fun being able to answer questions! #I hope I answer them well but if I don't never hesitate to yell at me #I hope you have a great day Anon! #answer #Terms Of Agreement #cw #content warning #tw #trigger warning #tw suicide #suicide

[blametheeditor]

A Song Without Its Lyrics

Prompt Roulette By Title

Character A's best friend, Character B, is mute. That sure as hell doesn't stop Character B from somehow being the brightest, most expressive person starring in Character A's life.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of treating others as lesser than. Mentions of calling others 'pests'. Mentions of select mutism. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of being apathetic

_______________________________

“If you just listen for two seconds-” 

“Why should I? Everything you’ve said up until this point has been worthless.” 

Vincent almost wants to yawn, watching the conversation between Scott and David go in yet another circle. Not that he cares if an agreement is made tonight. No one knows he’s even here, and he wouldn’t have bothered to show up if William hadn’t commanded him to make sure the negotiations didn’t get too out of hand.

Literally. The owner of Fazbear Corporation might be worried a certain egotistical employee will abuse the fact he’s a giant and therefore grab a certain ‘supervisor’ who’s small enough to fit in the palm of his hand in the heat of the moment, but Vincent knows that wouldn’t happen. Not when pests don’t deserve to so much as even look at him, none the less have the honor to be held by him. 

Though, ‘negotiations’ is a bit of a stretch. Scott has been negotiating and trying his hardest to get David on the same page. It’s David who refuses to budge, finding every excuse imaginable to disagree with something he might have even thought of but refuses to give in solely based on principle. 

It’d be admirable and entertaining if it wasn’t so childish. To be honest, Vincent’s unsure what they’re even discussing currently, nor the original reason why Scott, Eggs, and David met up at Freddy Fazbear’s. 

Personally, at this point, he’d take Eggs out of timeout to contribute to see if anything can get done tonight, even if it’s something as simple as setting up a schedule for every restaurant on when the mechanic can run diagnostic checks and fix anything that’s needed. It might not even be part of the agenda, but at least it’d be something. 

“Look, we need to work together on this, and-” 

“I don’t want to hear another word,” David interrupts yet again. Which is a bad look all around, using the fact his voice can overpower Scott’s effortlessly to gain complete control over the situation. But Vincent isn’t here to be a babysitter, or report to William the man that was hired partly for PR is nothing but a bully behind closed doors. If Scott can’t handle such petty tactics then he’ll need to learn how. “William might listen to your idiotic suggestions, but it’s clear you have no idea what you’re doing considering I’m here. So shut up and let me work.” 

Despite being several feet away from where Scott stands on a table in order to be on an ‘equal level’, though the attempt is completely ruined by the fact David’s standing to ensure his shadow is cast over the miniscule figure, Vincent can see the sandy haired man’s expression clearly. Every shift as the look goes from fear, to anger, to despair, finally landing on determination. 

I’m not going to shut up. You are going to sit down and we are going to converse like God damn adults.

It’s only when David doesn’t respond with confusion written all over his face does Vincent realize Scott had signed the words rather than say them out loud. 

And then Vincent isn’t hiding in the shadows at Freddy Fazbear’s, waiting for the business man to react. Instead, he’s sitting at a table. In a different though similar restaurant. With a much younger Scott Cawthon sitting beside his hand. One that isn’t purple. Without a single look of trepidation aimed toward it. 

...it’s been a while since he thought about his life before William. 

“Did I do something to earn the silent treatment?” he had asked. Gently poked Scott in the attempt to get some kind of reaction. Because it was the first time his best friend wasn’t ranting about how a mother blew up on him even though her ire was directed toward another coworker. Or excitedly discussing the fact their bosses were working on a new project and they’ll be one of the first ones to see it. 

It concerned him. Scott was the only one who saw Vincent’s words and actions as more than just him being an annoying asshole. And he didn’t want to lose the human’s friendship if he crossed a line somewhere. 

He was glad he didn’t receive a glare or a yell for demanding attention when it clearly didn’t want to be given. But even though the headshake given was immediate and decisive, nothing was said. Which meant he was still worried, just for different reasons. 

The worst part was the fact Scott looked so upset, panicked, and yet still not a single word was spoken. 

“Has the free food left you speechless?” Vincent mused. “We have it, what, a minimum of five times a week if not more? But this time it managed to blow your mind how amazing reheated frozen pizza can be?”  He hadn’t thought about it before, considering it’s not something you really focus on, but it was then he realized just how expressive Scott was. Maybe because he’s human, and being around giants has you unconsciously doing everything in your power to always be heard or noticed. It meant Scott should never play poker or else lose all of his money, but it also made it easy to see the relief that Vincent wasn’t upset. As well as the cautious hope that slowly began to appear. 

Vincent was happy to continue. Tapped his chin as he hummed in thought. “Going for a world record, then? Longest without saying anything?” 

Scott rolled his eyes dramatically with a look of ‘really?’. 

“Hey, I won’t judge. But don’t expect me to help, you’ve got to time it yourself.” 

It was so brief, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and it didn’t help just how small the human is. But Scott looked hurt by his words. 

Which meant Vincent swept him up. There wasn’t even a yelp, but a finger was hugged in order for Scott to steady himself from the sudden action. Looked up at the giant with worry. 

“We’re watching a movie at my place.” 

“I’m sorry,” had been the first thing Scott said to him the next day. 

It pissed Vincent off his best friend felt the need to apologize for something that seemed out of his control. Wanted to find whoever put the idea Scott should be ashamed of it and punch them in the face. “What for? I thought we had a great time of you silently agreeing all of my opinions are correct and should never be challenged.” 

There was a wince, but there was also a smile. “I, uh, kn-know it’s annoying.” 

“Annoying?” Vincent asked. “Unless it’s annoying for you, it’s anything but annoying for me.” 

“You weren’t, but I, I couldn’t-” Scott sputtered, looked genuinely confused. “H-How?” 

“Adds to your charm, Scotty,” Vincent smirked. “Like your stutters.” 

He didn’t ask why. And Scott didn’t tell him. 

But the next time it happened several months later he sat the human down. Forcefully. Because Scott avoided him for as long as possible before the giant managed to snag him. “Do you know ASL, Scotty?” 

That stopped Scott from running away. Which was best for all of them considering all Vincent had to do was pin him without any effort. 

He was suspicious, uncertain why that was the first thing asked, but shook his head no. 

“Then you and I are going to learn it.” 

Because even though Vincent knew how to sign and read important phrases, and could go through the very tedious process of conversing by spelling every single word out, he was far from fluent. But he would like to be. He wanted to for a while ever since he learned in order to make sure every child could be included whenever the band started to play. Giving Scott a voice when his own didn’t work was just the last push he needed. 

To be honest, Scott would’ve been fine on his own without learning any sign language. It’s impossible to misinterpret what the human was saying considering just how expressive he was, but there would be scenarios when being able to say what you mean and want would be crucial. 

And there did come a time when Scott’s only words was strictly through signing. When William came into their lives. When the human could no longer express any kind of emotion. 

When Vincent finally realized what took his best friend’s voice away. 

That’s why, for the first time in years, Vincent feels a wave of protection grip him with an iron fist as he fully registers why Scott is suddenly signing instead of speaking despite the fact David wouldn’t be able to read it. Because his voice has been stolen away. And this is the only way to say what he wants to. 

A far cry from before when all he could do was obey without a way to fight back. 

Vincent’s body is moving before he can tell it to, stepping out of the shadows with the intent to kill David where he- 

“Oooooh, are you gonna take that, David?” Eggs suddenly asks, looking up at the giant with a wicked grin. Manages to freeze Vincent in place by words alone. 

“Take what?” the business man demands. 

“Scott telling you to sit down and stop being an asshole!” 

Vincent feels the pounding rage slowly subside until he’s backing into the shadows again before any of them manage to spot him. Stares at the blond human who was able to make sure Scott was heard. 

“No I’m not going to take it. He knows nothing about keeping a restaurant running properly.” 

I’m not saying I do, I’m saying there’s things you should know about the building Afton hasn’t told you about.

Scott started signing halfway through David’s growl, but Eggs had been watching to listen to both. “Scott’s got a good point, though. William might have trap doors lying around.” 

David stares down at them. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Sit down and Scott’ll explain!” 

Surprisingly, the giant does. Grumbling all the while, but he does. “Explain about the possibility of trap doors.” 

No trap doors, but it’s worse than that.

“The vent’s were replaced with snakes!” 

No.

Vincent ignores the rest of the conversation. Feels his entire body finally relax. Left to try and understand what happened, and why there’s a small piece of him that hadn’t been there before that’s still wanting to go to Scott’s side. 

With it clear Eggs is acting as a mediator, the purple man quickly makes his way out of the building before turning down the sidewalk leading to William’s office. Knowing that in a few hours, Scott will join him to report what was able to get accomplished. Because nothing has changed. William’s word is law with Vincent and Scott his messengers to obey every word said to them without hesitation. 

So why does it feel like he’s losing his best friend. 

#I haven't done a Bingo prompt in a hot minute #and while I'm motivated to write there's been a clash between time and energy #so no continuation on the big stories this week #but I'm working to have one out next! #as long as other responsibilities don't take up all my free time again #that's mine dang it #have a good weekend! #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Prompt Roulette By Title #L3 #BTE writing #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

In Terms Of Agreement Will afton make an appereance? What is he ?

Afton, our favorite owner of Fazbear Corporation and torturer of Scott's! Will he be gracing us with his presence in the battle over a single soul that may or may not be worth it considering the time and effort but the three involved are too stubborn and proud to simply forfeit?

Fortunately for Fritz, he won't be appearing anytime soon. But as the series progresses he most certainly will! The most powerful demon in hell who overthrew the original ruler can only be held back for so long.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Afton's not going to be happy when he does appear. He didn't start out as a powerful demon and had to claw his way to the top with hard work and dedication just like everyone else, collecting thousands of souls without anyone's help...at least in the beginning. Once you reach a certain point, you become a target that's worth more than a hundred guaranteed souls, so he found a few demons to stay by his side. As long as he keeps them happy, what could go wrong!

He's actually the one who implemented the competition. Don't get him wrong, he enjoys a good show of numerous demons and monsters tearing each other apart in order to obtain a soul, but it wasn't productive. Because instead of only two demons needing to reform after losing, it ranged from five to fifty, most of which would've won a different soul during that time instead of letting the angels get it. Limiting who can compete for one soul was the best way to get everyone what they wanted.

And to be honest, everyone was happy! It's Afton's other transgressions that led to a select few working together to keep their ruler from enforcing certain decrees not everyone would agree with. Maybe they went a little too far, but hindsight's 20/20. And Afton will make sure they regret it.

But they can worry about that later. Right now Vincent, David, and James refuse to admit they might be a little too invested in their current custody battle. Despite how Fritz feels about his situation, at least he isn't facing someone like Afton.

#thank you so much for the ask! #to be honest Terms Of Agreement is going to be a bigger project than I originally thought #I knew it'd be a big one #but holy fruit just wait until after Fritz's story #it's so big I might need to put it under an umbrella AU #like Monsters And Demons AU or Custody Battle AU or TOA AU #I've got big plans! #with not enough time! #but we will get to Afton one way or another!!! #I wish you a good rest of your day Anon! #answer #Terms Of Agreement

[blametheeditor]

Terms Of Agreement

Wander, will they ever grow attached to the little human ? If they do what would the tipping point ?

Even demons and monsters whose sole purpose is to fight to the death for souls get attached sometimes. And unfortunately for Vincent, David, and James, they will get attached to Fritz. And they will fall like domino's.

Vincent respects strength. David enjoys having his ego stroked. James has never had an opportunity to converse with someone just for the sake of companionship. So give them someone who doesn't back down when it counts, who's genuinely respectful, and who enjoys answering and asking questions once it's realized they're relatively 'safe'? And BOOM, they're powerless and will inevitably become fond of the human.

It will be a long and arduous process. One slip up, and Fritz could lose all of the progress made, and the worst part is the fact he doesn't know such a thing might be happening. Not when demons and monsters don't really show affection. They might think a nudge of the shoe is a great way to display their fondness, but just because 3 out of 4 agree does not mean the one thinking he's about to be crushed does.

But, even though they may come to enjoy Fritz's presence, he still has a soul they've been fighting over for six years, and that's something none of them will want to willingly give up. Because how far can their attachment really go in the face of power, rank, and obligation?

At least the threats will stop! Maybe.

...they won't. Not until Fritz fires back with one of his own, and the chance of that happening is the same as one of them shrinking down to human size while the door is closed.

#thank you so much for the ask! #especially with how Fritz is currently being put through the wringer #it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel #but Fritz is in good hands #literally #and they won't let anything Too bad happen #there will be a happy ending #with a heaping pile of angst #but happy ending! #I hope you have a good rest of your day Anon! #answer #Terms Of Agreement

[blametheeditor]

Terms Of Agreement | Chapter 3

First | Previous

Run Down: The monster under your bed, the one in the closet, and your sleep paralysis demon fight for custody.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation. Mentions of death, murder, and accidental deaths. Mentions of treating others as lesser than, addressing someone as 'it'.

A snow day is a good writing day

______________________________

Fritz stares at his bedroom door with terror as the sun slowly sets, watching as the light grows dimmer and dimmer until it is nothing more than a thin sliver of red on the wall across from him. 

Then it disappears. 

The teenager tenses, because tonight he will be visited by one of three beings who want his soul. Will do everything within their power to make the night unbearable to the point he willingly gives it away. And now with the daylight gone for eleven hours, they can come anytime they please to stay for as long as they’d like. 

At least he knows someone will come and he won’t be left paranoid, though he doesn’t know who exactly. There’s a set schedule for every other day in which Fritz will actually be left alone for three nights. But it’s Saturday, and that has been set aside to be a ‘surprise’ on who it will be. 

So he waits, not wanting to be caught off guard by James or David. Because unlike Vincent, he never saw the two before meeting them, completely unaware they existed even if it was in the form of a hallucination. Meaning unlike his sleep paralysis demon, Fritz can only speculate about what they can do.

“I’ve actually kind of missed this,” Vincent’s voice rumbles the moment his room becomes dark enough that shadows seem to form shapes that aren’t there. Or maybe there are things crawling along the floor, invited by the demon slowly forming. 

Fritz doesn’t know if he should be relieved it did end up being Vincent. Because at least he can try and prepare for the two unknown monsters. But it also means he’s in for a sleepless night. 

“I don’t know about you,” the demon grins as the wide smile hovers too close for comfort. “But it’s just more fun this way. Though don’t get me-” 

Vincent cuts himself off. The only problem with his sleep paralysis demon not having any pupils is the fact Fritz can’t see what exactly is being looked at. Either the cowering redhead currently paralyzed, or something else. 

Fritz attempts to flinch as a catastrophic hand appears, but it’s only used to gesture toward his room with a finger. “What happened here?” 

...his room. The one he completely rearranged the previous night due to the realization there were powerful beings that wanted him dead. Fritz had forgotten what could be seen as a punishable offence hadn’t actually been seen, had actually assumed the three knew and were waiting for the perfect moment to make him regret trying to defend himself. Maybe even laugh at such a pathetic attempt. 

It turns out they can’t sense when he’s challenging their authority. But being paralyzed as he’s questioned over it with undeniable proof directly beside him might be worse than being loomed over by all three. Because then he at least wouldn’t be surrounded by darkness, completely in their mercy to do whatever they want with him. 

...I was scared.

A dark chuckle sends a shiver down his back. “If you weren’t, I’d be worried. But you do realize this could’ve ended badly for you if I didn’t find it first.” 

Y-You’re not mad?

“Mad?” Vincent grins. “I’m impressed. It takes a lot of courage to do something like this, albeit extremely stupid, but I don’t blame you. The other two however wouldn’t agree. David will see it as a challenge and destroy your dresser with everything inside it. James will see it as disrespectful and lecture you after assigning an impossible task for you to do.” 

Fritz stares up in disbelief, waiting for the demon to drop the act and find a suitable punishment for what he did. Because if David and James would, then why wouldn’t Vincent? Especially when it gives the perfect opportunity to not hold back. Unless the sleep paralysis demon will wait until the morning to tell the others so they can all contribute instead of just one. 

“How you can trust anyone at this point is beyond me,” Vincent smirks. “How about we get your room put back together, that way there’s no proof it ever happened.” 

That’s when Fritz’s want to scramble away from the terrifying snap of fingers that could break his bones turns into action. Softly shrieking when the paralysis vanishes and his head hits the wall, curling into a ball as he gasps for air. Waits for the dream to come into full effect, or for a hand to grab him. 

“Well are you just going to lie there or get your room straightened out?” 

Fritz stares at his now open door, Vincent lying outside it, looking amused. As if he doesn’t mind giving up precious minutes that could be used turning this night into an inescapable nightmare. 

“Wh-Why?” is all he can ask. 

The sleep paralysis demon shrugs. “Why do we do anything?” 

They watch each other for a few moments in silence. It’s only when nothing happens, not even an annoyed sigh the teenager isn’t doing anything despite an admittedly generous offer, that Fritz believe this isn’t a trick. Tentatively moves to stand up from his mattress, watching Vincent closely so he’s at least ready if his sleep paralysis demon decides to put him through a hallucination. 

Nothing grabs him when his feet are set on the floor. Only an eyebrow is raised as a relieved sigh escapes. 

Just in case Vincent called the other two and they’ll appear at any moment, Fritz quickly grabs a corner of his mattress and yanks it toward his bed frame. Struggles to find a proper angle to get it over the edge before finally being able to shove it into its proper place. Can’t help staring at the empty space of darkness underneath in case something reaches out to grab him before carefully pulling his dresser away from the closet door. 

It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, but Fritz feels wired by the end of it, covered in sweat and terrified James and David will take this as an invitation. 

“Feel better?” 

Vincent laughs at look he earns, one that says the room might get rearranged all over again by tomorrow night. Even if it does mean getting his dressed destroyed, at least he’d know when David appeared when it’s his turn on Monday. 

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate the warning. “Thank you V-Vincent.” 

“Oh don’t thank me yet,” his sleep paralysis demon purrs. “I’m thinking bottomless pit tonight.” 

Fritz lunges toward his bed, barely managing to wrap himself under the blankets before the sense of freefalling leaves him silently screaming. 

And this time, he never stops falling. Just like what was promised instead of only being trapped for a few minutes to a few hours, it goes on through the entire night. Meaning the freezing air rushing past him lasts for what feels like days, making his heart skip a beat each time his blanket is nearly ripped away. It leaves him exhausted in both body and mind, pleading for it to stop even though he knows it won’t, his stomach twisted so much he can’t imagine eating anything ever again. 

Fritz finally screams as his bed slams into the ground, waking up with a jolt with the expectation all of his bones were turned to dust. Stares as daylight streams through his window as he confirms he’s psychically unharmed before burring his face into his pillow. 

“Fritz,” is said not even a minute later, tense as he realizes David is demanding his attention just outside his door. “You have five minutes to get ready.” 

I don’t want to.

Fritz actually thinks it over for a minute, about what would happen if he disobeyed and just ignored the giant’s words. Wonders if he could pretend to be asleep and act innocent when he isn’t in the hallway by the specified timeframe. Maybe even negotiate being given just a little more time to be able to have a dreamless sleep, even for a single minute. 

The want to rebel vanishes quickly when he feels the ground shake, remembering what it’s like the stand only a few feet from the catastrophic shoes that cause such earthquakes. The reminder that considering he’s no taller than David’s fingers, he shouldn’t be testing just how creative the giant can possibly get. Or the monster’s willingness to listen to suggestions from Vincent if they get offered. 

It’s a bit of a chore getting out of bed, Fritz’s limbs protesting every step of the way, his hands unable to properly cooperate as he opens his dresser drawers to find warm clothes to wear. He’s fairly sure he takes more than five minutes with all of his struggling, especially when he’s forced to fight his tied shoes because he would not be able to retie them. 

But he finally peers out of his bedroom to find David standing just outside of it. Looking thoroughly unimpressed, something that’s terrifying coming from such an imposing figure at this angle, but nothing about taking too long is said. 

“Um-m, good morning?” 

The monster scowls, and Fritz grips the door to keep himself from ducking back into his room. “Was that meant to be sarcastic?” 

“N-No, not at all! I, I just-” 

“Unless you genuinely think the morning is a ‘good’ one despite spending an entire night with Vincent, then I suggest you refrain from making such assertions,” David growls. 

Fritz trembles when it’s clear he made someone who wants him dead angry, and with no one else around to ensure he isn’t killed. If he gets out of this alive, at least he’ll know to choose his words much more carefully. “Y-Yes, sir.” 

For a split second, David actually looks surprised. But it disappears as the same expensive dress shoes that terrorized Fritz yesterday shift in place. “James and Vincent are waiting for you in the kitchen.” 

It’s a miracle the redhead is able to leave his room completely without needing a full minute to force his body to obey. Maybe because, despite not trusting David at all, Fritz hadn’t been crushed last time. Or maybe it’s because he’s fearful of what might happen if he does something to make the monster angry enough to punish him. 

No matter the reason, Fritz is just glad he isn’t being grabbed. More than happy to do everything in his power to stay as far away as possible from a hand that can squeeze, crush, or dangle him miles above the ground. 

The only issue is the fact he hadn't realized just how cumbersome walking through carpet while only a few inches tall is. So far he’s only really transversed across tile. Which isn’t perfect, and the grooves between each make Fritz feel as though he was walking up and down small hills. But carpet presents a whole new challenge. Like he’s trying to walk on top of really thick grass that are in odd bundles. Ones with small enough gaps he can’t step through, but enough to trip him if he isn’t careful. 

Then David takes a step, making the ground jump and cause Fritz to trip from his unsteady footwork with a yelp. 

“What are you doing?” the monster demands. 

The teenager is quick to get back on his feet, looking over his shoulder and instantly regretting it. Never will he get used to the sight of someone over a hundred feet tall glaring down at him like an ant needing to be crushed. “I-I-I’m just, the ground’s-s-s hard to walk o-on.” 

“Are you having trouble walking over carpet?” David asks incredulously. 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Fritz breathes. Unable to speak any louder. Shaking as he expects the shoe to step on him right here and now. “I-I can do it. I’ll, I can go faster-r-r.” 

Eyes bigger than his head roll as a hand waves to continue. Fritz doesn’t need to be told twice, turning in order to speed up his pace. His muscles hate it, both the large steps he has to make and fact he’s trying to jog, but he can’t stop. As soon as he gets to the end of the hallway, he’ll be on tile and able to slow down. For now he needs- 

Fritz yells as his shoe catches a strand, wincing as his arms twinge from pain after catching him. Feels his entire body tense at the sound of a loud sigh from high above. Quickly tries to stand up again. 

Freezes when he feels warmth. Warmth he’s all too familiar with whenever Vincent sweeps him up. Screams when something grabs his shirt and pulls him up. One that turns into a garbled choke as his collar digs into his neck. Then his feet leave the ground. 

WAIT!

Fritz kicks out of pure panic as he watches the floor get further and further away until he’s forced to close his eyes before it becomes too dizzying. Before he faints because he can only picture falling from such a height, knowing he could never survive. Curls into himself as tightly as possible as he silently pleads not to be dropped please don’t let him fall. 

“Relax,” rumbles like thunder around him. “I’m not going to drop you, but I’m not watching you stumble and trip all morning long.” 

Fritz’s eyes open just long enough to see there’s a hand hovering a few feet below him. Can’t help a whimper when a single footstep makes his collar dig a little further into his neck. But he doesn’t attempt to plead to be put down or to be held more securely. The faster David gets to the kitchen, the quicker he’ll be put on solid ground. 

“David, what the hell are you doing.” 

Even though Vincent’s voice made Fritz feel ten times better knowing the giant who knows how fragile humans are is close by, vertigo overshadows any sense of safety, his eyes snapping open out of terror thinking he’s falling instead of being lowered down. 

His fears are unfounded this time, kicking instinctively once the kitchen counter is finally close enough to safely land on, shrieking when his shirt is let go just a foot too high. 

“He was taking too long so I picked him up.” 

“That looked more like dangling,” Vincent says. 

Fritz takes a few deep breaths in order to calm his heart, just glad he wasn’t dropped and never wanting to do that again. Glances up at David to see the monster looking prideful of what he accomplished. Vincent isn’t facing them, but at least his sleep paralysis demon doesn’t sound happy about the chosen method of transport. Despite it seeming like he will be dangled again, the teenager will take at least one giant preferring ways a little less terrifying. 

“I got him here safely, didn’t I?” David smirks. 

“And yet it seems like you’re trying your hardest to kill him before he chooses,” Vincent shrugs as he finally turns away from the stove. 

A purple hand then reaches toward Fritz, the teenager almost running to not be held so soon after not only a morning of being faced with terrifying heights, but the entire night as well. His fears are unfounded when he spots a plate balanced on a fingertip, quick to accept it in order to stare down at bacon and eggs. 

Right. He should eat. Get enough strength so he doesn’t lag behind and give anyone an excuse to grab him. 

What if I’m dangled again?

The thought of vertigo and food mixing together has his stomach flipping in protest, the enticing smell almost making him want to gag. Remembering his nightmare has Fritz hurriedly shoving the plate away as he covers his mouth. 

“Here.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to accept the offered glass of water. Well aware he might be disrespecting Vincent by refusing food that was made solely for him, but unable to find it in himself to even look at it again. “I’m sorry-” 

“I should’ve known,” the demon smiles. “Was it just David, or the nightmare?” 

“B-Both.” 

“What did David do?” James asks, seemingly appearing to loom over Fritz, the redhead curling into himself at the realization he’s trapped between two giants leaning on the counter. Both watching him closely. 

“Picked Fritz up too quickly,” Vincent hums. “And dangled him after he was in freefall for about ten hours straight.” 

“It sounds like he would’ve been fine if that wasn’t his torture last night.” 

“And I’ll be mindful for next time so I don’t go overboard! It’s you who refuses to learn from your mistakes.” 

“Again it sounds like he would’ve been fine if he wasn’t falling for hours on end.” 

“You weren’t actually falling.” 

Fritz hesitates before meeting James’ gaze, uncertain if the monster was talking to him. But Vincent doesn’t stop his argument with David, and it seems like an answer is wanted even if what was said was more like a statement. “I-I know.” 

“Then why do you act like you actually were?” 

The tone isn’t accusatory, but Fritz can’t help feeling like James is almost annoyed. “I, um, I think the v-vertigo made it real? F-For my body, not my mind.” 

The black void eyes stare at him for a moment. “Are you just weak, or are all humans like this?” 

“Um-m-m-” 

“James, he’s a teenager,” Vincent cuts in. “He can’t answer those questions to the full extent you want them to be. So don’t resort to insults when you don’t get your way.” 

“It’s not an insult when humans can’t tell the difference between hallucinations and reality.” 

“I don’t think you’ve experienced a proper hallucination before, then.” 

“D-Do all of you not make hallucinations?” Fritz pipes up. Not wanting another argument to start up, especially now that it’s clear it’s all the three seem to do when talking to each other. And, this might be the only chance he gets to prepare for the coming week. 

“The only one who doesn’t do any type of hallucinations is James,” David announces, crossing his arms as his glares at said monster. “Vincent’s the only one who can control your dreams, but I’m the one that turns the shadows of your room into creatures waiting for the perfect time to grab you.” 

“James is more ‘physical’ in a way. Grabs your blanket and pulls it off you. Scratches and pounds on your bed so you jolt awake. No true mental manipulation,” Vincent explains. 

That’s...extremely helpful. And explains a lot. Including why they all like to fight with each other. He can imagine David trying to prove why his technique is better than the others. 

“So, does that mean you all help each other?” 

“No,” is said in unison. 

“Helping means sharing, and I’m not willing to share a soul.” 

“Can’t exactly do it, either. Once it’s consumed, it can’t be reformed.” 

Fritz feels his lungs lock up as the sentence fully processes. About a soul being consumed. Like his own currently being fought over by the three surrounding him. 

Vincent’s smile suddenly gets close enough he could kick it. “My, we haven’t gone into that detail yet, have we?” 

“The interesting part is demons being the only one who consumes them,” James chimes in. “Monsters simply keep them for all eternity.” 

“Meaning you can either sit on a shelf like a trinket, collecting dust in a dark cupboard with a hundred other souls, or a quick painless death at the very end of the road,” his sleep paralysis demon purrs. 

Fritz finally forces himself to take a deep breath. Spots the plate of food that had been made to ensure he doesn’t die before he chooses someone to have the rights to take his soul. For David and James to keep locked up forever, or for Vincent to eat. 

And the worst part is that neither seems better than the other. 

Fritz hugs his knees before looking up at Vincent. “I should stop ask questions every time I eat.” 

The demon chuckles as he carefully collects the abandoned plate. “That would be wise.” 

“So for future reference, how do we pick him up without hurting him?” 

“How do you feel, Fritz?” 

Nauseous, but now for an entirely different reason. One that has him never wanting to be picked up again. Run to Jeremy’s house and come up with a plan where he doesn’t have to lose his soul. Find a comfortable place to just sleep and pretend it’s all a dream. 

The teenager sighs. “You can pick me up.” 

“Alright, David, show me how you did it last time.” 

Before Fritz can fully comprehend what that meant, the back of his shirt is suddenly pulled taunt. Not even a second after and he’s yanked up, gaging for more reasons than one. 

“It’s choking.” 

“You were choking him the entire time?” 

“It didn’t look like I was!” 

Fritz gasps as he’s quickly lowered back down, coughing once his shirt is no longer attempting to strangle him. Yells as he attempts to scramble away when the fingers return. “No, wait-!” 

“It’s just me,” Vincent rumbles. A sentence that doesn’t make him feel any better. It also means that even though Fritz actually manages to find his footing and run, his shirt still manages to get snagged. 

Only this time, somehow, he isn’t choked as he’s lifted up. Still curls up with fear as he watches the counter disappear, but he can actually breathe. His stomach not trying to twist itself completely into a knot, though it was still left behind. 

Fritz looks over at David with surprise before flinching at the hatred directed toward him. “I can’t help but feel like he was being dramatic before.” 

“Even James could see you were choking him. This method works, but you can’t just yank him up. Be gentle and lift him up slowly. Same goes for when he’s in your hand.” 

“He’s so fragile he needs to be picked up slowly? That’s what was wrong?” 

James snorts as Fritz is slowly lowered back down, quick to face toward all three so no one can yank him up suddenly. “Maybe you should shrink down to its size and see what it’s like.” 

“No way in hell.” 

“Then you pick him up slowly and carefully,” Vincent scowls. “Or else if he dies by your hands, you owe James and I a soul.” 

David aims his sight down on Fritz. “If that ever happens, I’ll find a way to make you pay.” 

Which means it’ll be a loosing battle ever getting on the monster’s good side. 

“James, your turn.” 

Fritz doesn’t hesitate to sprint in the opposite direction as fast as possible. Screams when a hand blocks his path. Doesn’t get a chance to run again before the fingers curl around him to scoop him up. Freezes when he realizes the digits are purple, waiting to see if he’ll just be handed over. Going limp when he’s only held as his back is gently stroked. 

“Maybe later.” 

“Maybe never.” 

“At least we all agree James is the worst.” 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#hello hello! #long-time no story #but we have a Fritz! #and the Editor threatening to steal Writing Motivation #meaning this battle has been won #though I apologize for the odd time #hoping to get a good schedule soon #hope ya'll have a good day! #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Terms Of Agreement #BTE writing #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

“Here you go, Scott!”

The eldest guard admittedly perks up at the fresh mug of coffee being set down beside him, but he refrains from claiming it despite running dangerously low on caffeine.

Because he can’t trust any food or drink given to him by Eggs, especially coffee. “What did you do to it?”

“Scott!” the blonde mechanic gasps, placing a hand over his heart, looking as if the accusation physically hurt him. “Why would I ever poison the one thing you treasure above all else! That’d be cruel of me!”

“And it’d also be something you would do,” Scott fires back.

Eggs nods seriously. “It does. But, I got this out of the kindness of my heart! You look like you’re going to keel over if you don’t get your elixir of eternal youth.”

That earns an eye roll as well as Scott picking up the coffee to drink. Because getting teased means that had been the goal of the interaction instead of wanting a reaction to something being added. Which can range from a single ice cube, to mayo, to a concoction of random ingredients that should be labeled as a bio hazard. At least David’s safe only trusting Fritz to handle his coffee. Scott’s can’t even trust James when Eggs is around.

But this time there’s truly nothing in it, straight black coffee without any creamer. “Thank-“

Scott suddenly feels nauseous. Hurriedly sets the mug down as he curls into himself. Clenches his eyes closed when his throat refuses to let him ask for ask, trembling with terror as it feels like fire is in his veins.

Then it vanishes. Leaving him frozen at the realization the sensation wasn’t something entirely new. If anything, it’s Afton’s signiture.

Scott looks over at Eggs, needing to ask what has changed.

He almost screams at the sight of the blond towering over him like a lost skyscraper. One who looks surprised at the sight of the person he made coffee for now small enough to be held in a single hand. Fascinating, and looking like he’ll snatch up the shrunken man at any moment, but this hadn’t been expected.

“Uh, April Fools!”

Scott’s going to strangle him, Afton’s protege or not.

#check in #hello hello! #sooooo no confirmed story for this week #Much busier than expected #hopefully get some time This week #but I offer the Eggs! #Happy April Fools!

[blametheeditor]

Scott pinches the bridge of his nose. “How old are you two?”

“No comment,” is replied in unison.

“Fine,” Scott huffs. “Then what do you expect me to do? Even if I told Eggs to stop, I have no way of enforcing it. Or have you forgotten you’re both giants and I am no taller than the finger he’s pointing?”

David raises an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten we actually listen to you?”

“If you did this wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place. Why don’t you just move to a different seat? There’s no one else at the table, so every seat is open for the taking.”

“I was here first,” the business man pouts.

“And Eggs isn’t actually touching you,” the eldest guard glares.

“Are you actually taller than my finger?” Eggs suddenly asks.

Scott will admit the question throws him off, focusing on the blond glancing between the only human sitting with them and his own hand.

And that’s when he realizes that might have been something the others have been curious about for as long as they’ve known each other. Because they tease Fritz, Caleb, and Jeremy constantly about who can win a battle against a single finger. Because Fritz will never grow as tall as any of David’s fingers, and Caleb has finally managed to reach a height taller than Eggs and James’ thumb.

Scott has been left out of it completely. He’d also like to continue being left out of it. “Don’t even think about it.”

But Eggs isn’t looking at him, grinning up at David looking thoroughly amused by the idea. “50 bucks he’s taller than my thumb, but shorter than my first finger.”

“50 he’s shorter than all of them.”

#hello hello! #I apologize #it’s been a bit busy on my end #and unfortunately I have no stories to post today #however I am hoping to have something done by next week! #I might have to switch up my posting schedule again #have check ins on Mondays and then stories on either Wednesdays or Fridays #I’m thinking Wednesdays but we’ll see! #will Try to have a story this week #but guarenteed one next week #hope ya’ll have a good day! #check in

[blametheeditor]

The Expense Of Trust: Chapter 4

First | Previous

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of others being lesser than. Intent to kill. Death by anomaly. Dehumanization. Addressing someone as 'it'. Darker themes and tone.

Run Down: In the instant of a site-wide containment breach, there are only a few protocols available to follow. Know the right people, hope to be at the right place at the right time, and whatever you do, don't trust anything.

And that's a wrap!

________________

Even though the pure white walls, reinforced doors, and safety procedures about dangerous monsters escaping are the only things Caleb has ever known, it didn’t prepare him for a sitewide containment breach. Because even though he lives in the facility, he’s never been trained on what he’s supposed to do whenever sirens start blaring. He actually tends to be ignored by almost everyone unless he directly talks to someone, and that’s usually when he asks for breakfast. 

But that’s why Fredbear helps him! 

Don’t move, Caleb.

He trusts the plush bear to keep him safe. Fredbear has never let him down, even when Caleb was shoved into a room with an SCP that wanted to kill him. And this is much more scary then being face to face with only one monster, but he didn’t hesitate to follow instructions in order to get to the nearest exit. And just like he was promised, they didn’t meet anyone or anything the entire time. 

Until right now, as something made of darkness comes toward them. Caleb doesn’t know what it’s supposed to do other than knowing it’s sharp and doesn’t look friendly, but Fredbear said to hold still so he does. 

It gets really close when he hears a really high whistle, gasping when the sharp shape suddenly turns into a shadow on the wall. One that starts twisting and turning like it’s in pain. 

“Turn it off!” 

Caleb hugs Fredbear closer at the voice that sounds like it’s being hurt. Worried if he’ll be hurt by whatever’s making the noise. Glad when it is turned off and the shadow completely disappears. 

“What the fuck, James!” 

James? 

Caleb almost forgot there was a scientist opening the door in front of him before the darkness appeared. The man looks frightened, but he doesn’t look mean. He doesn’t look like the officer who’s always checked in on him and Fredbear after getting back from a mission, though. 

“Sorry, David, it was for an emergency.” 

“Officer James!” Caleb exclaims, recognizing the familiar voice. Almost runs forward when he finally spots the man before remembering he should be staying put. 

But he’s not ignored. The friendly officer gently pushes his way past the scientist with a smile in order to come to Caleb. “Thanks for waiting for me.” 

“Fredbear said you’d come,” the boy beams as he takes the offered hand to hold, feeling much safer now that a monster hunter is with them. “Did you see any monsters?” 

“A few,” James says. “But I found a few friendly ones, too.” 

“What was that?” the scientist asks, looking confused. “What happened? Was something trying to-?” 

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” someone interrupts with a growl, Caleb gasping when a shadow suddenly turns into a man. One who’s glaring at James. “But I don’t appreciate being interrogated when you’ve sided with that monstrosity.” 

An arm is then gestured toward Caleb. But he’s not a monster! All of the scientists said he didn’t even have ‘residue’. 

He’s talking about me, Caleb.

Oh. Well, Fredbear’s the friendliest monster he’ll ever meet! It’s not very nice to say someone’s bad without knowing them first. You’re allowed to be scared, but the shadow man’s not allowed to be mean. 

I appreciate your words, Caleb.

“Vince,” the scientist hisses. “Did you seriously try to kill a little boy-” 

“Not now, Scotty.” 

“K-Kill?” 

James doesn’t say anything, only gives Caleb’s hand a gentle squeeze as another scientist then carefully walks through the doorway. But it’s another person he knows. Wants to wave to in excitement but decides to bounce in place with both of his hands full. “Doctor Jeremy!” 

The nice doctor blinks for a moment before Jeremy gasps, turning toward the purple man with a fierce glare. “You m-monster! Why would you t-try t-t-to kill Caleb!” 

“I’m the monster? What about the abomination he’s carrying!” 

“It’s a st-st-stuffed bear!” 

“No it’s not!” 

“What the hell is going on?” the angry voice that yelled at James before growls. A tall man then steps through the doorway, wearing a suit and looking like he wants to start a fight. HIs mouth opens to say something, but then hazel eyes lock onto Caleb. Freezes with a look of terror. “James, you need to slowly make your way over here.” 

Jeremy and Vince suddenly stop fighting, looking between the tall man and James. Even Caleb’s a little unsure with how quiet the instructions were spoken. Like they’re trying to hide from a monster. 

The officer shakes his head. “Caleb and Fredbear are harmless.” 

“James, please,” the man begs. “I know you can’t see it, but whatever that kid is holding isn’t what you think it is.” 

“I know what it is.” 

“You really don’t.” 

Caleb, tell Vince that Scott will not be harmed, and tell David that Fritz and James won’t be either.

“Vince?” Caleb begins, looking at the purple man who stares at him with pure white eyes. “Fredbear says Scott won’t be harmed. David, he says Fritz and Officer James won’t be either.” 

The suited man looks even paler than before. But Vince doesn’t look as tense anymore. And even though the purple man had tried to kill them, if Fredbear forgave him then Caleb does too. 

And then another person peers out of the doorway. A bald man who wears a D-Class uniform. Just like Caleb does! “Does that shit include the Jerber?” 

It includes the Jerber.

“Fredbear says Jerber’s safe too!” Caleb giggles, liking the nickname that was given to Jeremy. “Are you his friend he always talks about?” 

The man smirks as he nudges Jeremy with his shoulder, making the doctor squeak. “I fucking hope so. Do you have any other shitty friends, Jerber?” 

“J-Just you,” Jeremy huffs. He then sends one last glare over at Vince before walking across the hallway with his friend following. Perks up when James holds out his hand currently being held so Caleb can grab Jeremy’s instead. “Are you o-okay?” 

“I am! Fredbear didn’t let us see any monsters.” 

“He doesn’t mind I brought a few to you, does he?” James asks. 

I do not.

Caleb shakes his head. “He does not.” 

“Good.” The officer glances at everyone still standing by the other door, looks down the hallway where the one leading outside is. The one Caleb refused to go through until James came like Fredbear told him. “Are there any other anomalies, David?” 

“We’re not going to discuss any further?” David snaps. “I’m just supposed to trust its word? It could kill any of us without even trying. I don’t know what it did to make even you drop your guard, but I am not willing to-” 

“Vince tried to kill Caleb,” James interrupts, and Jeremy’s grip tightens. 

There’s a long moment of silence. “This doesn’t give me any incentive to stay any longer than I have to.” 

“I appreciate all of the time you willingly give.” 

The suited man glares before sending a nervous look toward Caleb. Reaches behind him and gently pulls on the arm of another scientist to push him toward the outside door. “I don’t sense any, but Vince has a larger radius.” 

“It’s clear.” 

James quickly follows after David, leaving Caleb behind with Jeremy. “I-Is that much fighting n-normal for them?” 

“I never met David. Officer James sometimes talked about him, but he also said they do fight a lot,” Caleb shrugs. Though he’s unsure why the officer almost sounded sad. 

“Maybe it’ll be better o-o-once we’re out.” 

Out of the facility. Caleb only had a vague idea of what to expect. He had been taught about what it was like beyond the pure white walls, and James never said no to telling stories about his adventures, but he doesn’t think it pictures it properly. Because he always forgets there’s a sun that goes across the sky. And during the night, everything becomes dark instead of just one room when lights are turned off. That there’s more than just monsters and people in lab coats. 

That’s why he didn’t want to go alone. Even though the facility isn’t safe anymore, it’s still his home. Everything he’s ever known. But James has been outside, so he’ll know what to do. 

Everyone freezes when the lock on the door creaks and clangs, so loud it echos down the hallway. They wait for the sound of someone or something saying they were heard, but nothing happens. Not even Fredbear warns they have to hurry. 

“Okay,” James murmurs. “A siren will go off as soon as we open the door, so everyone needs to get out as fast as possible and then help me close the door so it locks again. You can all go your separate ways after that, but the door needs to be closed. It’s the only way to buy us some time.” 

“That’s it?” Vince scoffs. “You’re just going to let deadly anomalies out into the world?” 

“I have no equipment to capture you. No cell to contain you inside. Not to mention I owe the debt of saving my life. But you will only be free until I reach the next facility, in which I will begin the hunt for everything that has escaped this facility, including you.” 

The purple man snorts. “And if I kill you now?” 

“Just because I can’t contain you doesn’t mean I am defenseless. Or did you forget what happened when you attacked Caleb?” 

“I was only asking.” 

“Is that your plan? To get to the next facility?” Scott asks. 

James nods. “I need to report a sitewide containment breach.” 

“Can I come with you?” 

Vince turns toward Scott with a look of anger. But Jeremy raises his free hand so he earns attention. “Can Mike and I-I-I join, too?” 

Caleb straightens up in excitement to travel with the doctor. He doesn’t know Scott really well, and he’s sure Vince won’t apologize for calling Fredbear a monstrosity, but they haven’t tried to hurt anyone since then. They had also been with James, so he trusts them! 

“...David?” 

“Oh so now you want my opinion?” the taller snarls. Looking like he wants to punch something. Maybe even wants to punch James. 

“Will you and Fritz be joining me?” 

David goes still as he watches James for a few moments. “You had to ask?” 

The officer rolls his eyes as a smile tugs on his lips. “I did encounter an anomaly with psychic abilities.” 

“You’re a dumbass. They can join as long as none of them touch Fritz.” 

Caleb beams with the confirmation the two are still friends. He doesn’t really like David, not with how angry he gets and clearly doesn’t like Fredbear, but James likes the suited man and that’s all that matters. At least Fritz looks like he’s nice. 

“Scotty, we are not-” 

“We are not discussing this, Vince. I am going with them. You can decide if you want to or not.” 

They all watch the purple man who gives a fierce glower. “Can I help you?” 

“It’s settled then,” James smiles. Braces himself against the door. Takes a deep breath and then pushes it open. 

A siren blares, so loud it’s hard to think. But Caleb quickly pulls Jeremy through the opening once everyone else is through. Holds his breath when he sees David leaning against it on the outside, worried James will get locked in. 

He won’t let that happen.

Mike slips out with James right behind him, both of them immediately turning so they can help push the door closed. It shuts with a loud thud, the sound of the lock clicking back into place. 

That’s when Caleb finally notices the rest of the world. Gasps when he sees green everywhere. On the ground as grass, in the air as leaves on a tree. Sees nothing but blue beyond that, past the tall walls of the facility casting a large shadow over them. Shivers when a cold breeze blows past him, feeling nothing like how the AC felt whenever it turned on inside his room. 

He can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the unfamiliar scent trying to overwhelm his nose. Pulls on Jeremy’s hand for attention. “What’s that smell?” 

“Nature. Specifically a f-forest,” the doctor whispers. So that’s why there’s so many trees. 

“Come on,” James commands as he starts to walk down an odd concrete path. One that’s cracked and covered in dirt. “We need to get as much distance possible before the sun goes down.” 

Caleb let’s go of Jeremy’s hand with a smile to race after the officer, jumping off the path a few times in order to crunch the leaves on the floor. “How far away is the other facility, Officer James?” 

“Very far. It’ll take us multiple days to get there.” 

“But not to get to civilization, right?” David calls from behind them. 

“You can last one night in the forest, David.” 

“We get to sleep in the forest?” Caleg gushes, earning a smile from James. 

“We better not be!” 

“We’ll see how far we get.” 

It won’t be far enough.

He doesn’t tell David what Fredbear told him, not wanting to possibly make anyone else upset if it was confirmed they won’t be escaping from nature anytime soon. Not that he minds, but one look back at Jeremy and not even the doctor looks excited. 

“So,” Vince begins. “If we’re all going to be traveling together, would it possible to know who and/or what we’re dealing with?” 

“Depends,” James responds. “Will you be telling us your secrets?” 

The purple man hums. “Maybe not tell, but I wouldn’t mind showing.” 

“No, wait-!” 

Both Caleb and James spin around to see Scott suddenly falling through the ground as Vince laughs. They don’t see or hear anything else until someone just appears from the tree next to them, stumbling until the officer catches their arm. 

The boy gasps when he realizes it’s Scott, amazed by the fact he was teleported. “Can you do that to me, too!” 

Vince’s smile drops as he stares at Caleb. And then David barks out a laugh. “Well that backfired.” 

“At least even the half-breed can do something, you’re basically useless.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Caleb turns to James as he looks over Scott with a frown. One the scientist tries to wave away. “I swear, he’s only ever done it to me, he won’t-” 

“He can teleport you?” the offices gently interrupts. 

“I don’t know specifics, just that he can and it has something to do with shadows.” 

James looks back at Vince and David’s argument. “Was that ever on his report?” 

“No. He deliberately did it outside of where cameras recorded and never in front of others.” Scott hesitates, looking confused. “Why?” 

“Just means I’ll need to be more prepared.” 

He wants to use them.

If it was anyone else, Caleb would be nervous. But James only wants to help people. And if there’s anything Caleb can do to help as well, then he will. 

Good thing there’s lots of time before they arrive at the next facility. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

SCP-8092  |  Incident 8092-16  |  SCP-8000  |  Incident 8000-1  |  SCP-8889  |  Incident 8889-1  |  SCP-8266  |  SCP-8787  |  Incident 8786-1

#tada! #that is the end of part one for this AU #I personally had tons of fun #and I hope ya'll enjoyed it! #I can not promise when I will start part two #but it will come! #eventually! #FNAF bois #SCP AU #The Expense Of Trust #BTE writing #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

What Could Go Wrong

Run Down: What everyone should've expected to happen at some point given Monkey King’s track record of being a lousy teacher.

Content Warnings: Mentions of violence. Fighting over someone.

You owe me Editor

_________________

“Come on, Macaque, there’s nothing to worry about!” 

Such a sentence had been banned from Wukong’s arsenal, but apparently today was the day he wanted to test if Macaque was feeling gracious. 

He is not. “Wukong, the kid needs more than just ‘you’ve got it bud’. I think it’d be more beneficial if you, oh I don’t know, actually taught him?”

Because as it currently stands, MK has been listening to every word his mentor has said. Fixing his posture, striking the correct pose, standing on his head for some unknown reason. But the poor kid’s mentor has refused to actually teach something. Only given words of encouragement. 

That’s why Macaque declared he had a right to be on Flower Fruit Mountain after realizing that while Wukong is many things, from a backstabbing friend to a powerful being who’s mastered 72 transformations, but a teacher is not one of them. That would require a little bit of hindsight. And everyone knows only a certain shadow possesses such a quality. 

Quite a laborious burden he bares. 

Wukong glares from across the clearing, having stated he wanted to be as far from Macaque as possible. A feeling that’s mutual. “Excuse me, he’s my student. Meaning I know what works best for him. Right MK?” 

“Right, Monkey King!” MK immediately agrees. And then only a second later the kid hesitates, rubbing at his neck. “Uh, would you mind repeating how I turn into a hawk?” 

“That didn’t prove my point at all,” Macaque drawls as he looks over his claws. 

“You just need to concentrate,” Wukong urges with a glare sent toward the shadow. “Imagine yourself as a hawk and everything that goes with it.” 

“...that’s it?” Macaque asks. He had only joined this particular training session a few moments ago and therefore didn’t have the full story. But he hadn’t expected the all powerful ‘Monkey King’ to be this incompetent. Turns out he held the bar much too high. “You can’t even give specific descriptions? Like wings, talons, basic things that would be extremely helpful?” 

MK sends a grateful look his way, but the kid’s mentor is waving a paw as if to shoo a pest away. “You clearly don’t understand the complexity of the training MK goes through. It’s spiritual. Something he needs to find himself.” 

Macaque gives a look that says he’s not buying it in the slightest. Someone who, you know, had to master his ability completely by himself? No help, no guidance, no mentor. And not once did this ‘method’ of learning ever work for him. 

He doesn’t continue to argue, however. Not with MK looking much more confident as he closes his eyes to concentrate. Of course, Wukong is currently beaming with the assumption his ‘teaching’ got the kid this far. What matters is they’re on the right track. He doesn’t necessarily care about the journey as long as they get to the end. For this round at least. 

It’s completely silent save for the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. And then MK just...disappears. 

Now, he might not have much experience with the actual transformation part when it comes to things like this. But Macaque doesn’t believe he’d be too off the mark with the assumption it’s a bit disconcerting, especially if this is one of the first times shape shifting into an animal. But what does he know? Why would Wukong ever think about an idea being a bad one? Especially involving yelling. 

“Nice job, bud!” the celestial primate congratulates as he proceeds to walk through the grass. Meaning the shadow is quick to make his way over to the kid as well.  “Piece of cake, right? Flying’s going to be a little more tricky, but we’ll do it mama bird style!” 

“...you are not throwing him off a tree.” 

“I am doing whatever I want,” Wukong growls, hands on his hips as he stops just shy of where MK had originally been standing. A stance that can be seen as something playful, but Macaque knows it’s meant to be a warning to back off. “And what I want to do is-” 

Macaque’s fur stands on end when the most talkative being in existence suddenly cuts himself off, something that can only be a bad sign. One that’s made worse considering how still Wukong became. Pupils narrowing as something is watched. 

That’s not normal. 

Actually, none of this is. It’s much too quiet. Even if MK needs to learn how to fly, they should’ve seen a hawk jumping up in excitement, or at the very least be chirping up a storm. Much like his mentor it’s a bit of a chore to get him to shut up. 

But there’s nothing. Not a single peep Macaque would have been able to hear yards away. So what-? 

The shadow freezes when he’s finally close enough to see what currently has Wukong looking like he’ll pounce at any moment. Realization dawning on him what’s going to happen in about five seconds. Unable to help feel an incredible amount of sympathy for the poor kid. Because someone’s poor teaching skills made it so MK didn’t transform into a hawk, but instead shrink. 

Now he’s no taller than about three inches. With blades of grass towering over him like mountains. Looking absolutely terrified and like he wants to run at any second. 

The kid takes a single step back. “M-M-?” 

They lunge at the same time. Instead of aiming for MK, however, like a certain impulsive celestial primate, Macaque collides with Wukong to ensure the miniscule figure who needs some time to process isn’t grabbed only a minute after shrinking. In which giants were stomping as they drew closer and closer, loud voices that would make tiny ears throb. 

It earns him a genuine snarl as Wukong attempts to bite Macaque’s throat out. Who is happy to give a fierce kick in the chest and gain some space. “He’s mine!” 

“Give the kid some space!” Macaque exclaims. Softly. Glad he’s the only one with six ears or else this would be ten times worse for MK. “He’s-!” 

Wukong leaps at Macaque with a battle cry, one that says his attempts to ensure the kid isn’t traumatized aren’t appreciated in the slightest. Not when it’s clear ‘baby monkey’ instincts were triggered. Which, if he may add, wouldn’t have happened if Wukong actually taught about transforming. 

But the damage is already done. Complete with Macaque doing everything he can to keep the sharp fangs as far from his face as possible. He’d be worried about how this might look to MK considering two colossal beings are wrestling a mere few feet away. But, again, he’s too busy not dying. Again. 

“Wait-!” 

He hears the soft and terrified cry. Barely dodges teeth wanting to sink into his shoulder and forces them to roll once, pinning Wukong to the ground at the same time he opens a portal directly below MK and onto his paw. Gently traps the kid in a fist to ensure he doesn’t pull a stupid move like jumping off. 

“Okay,” Macaque pants as Wukong goes still, understanding this is an active hostage situation. “Look, I’m not trying to hurt the kid, but you need to be careful with him.” 

Wukong sputters. “Of course I’d be careful!” 

He barely holds himself back from slapping the most annoying being in exitance. “You’re going to burst his eardrums.” 

There’s no surprise Wukong immediately opens his mouth to retaliate. No words are said however when MK’s flinch in noticed along with miniscule hands covering his ears. Finally there’s a look of regret. “He’s safe with me.” 

“Uh huh, sure,” Macaque growls. “The rockslide incident was, what, only a millennium ago and you already forgot how to be a good giant?” 

“Well if you weren’t-!” 

The shadow sighs when it becomes clear Wukong’s more focused on arguing than anything else. He stands up in order to begin walking toward the mountain, opening his paw in order to not make MK feel like he was trapped. “Sorry about that, kid. Are you okay?” 

He’ll admit, holding someone so small and fragile makes him feel not only powerful, but genuinely terrified. He’s seen Wukong use his transformations in order to win fights, display dominance, and just because he can. Yes, it’s absolutely terrifying to be on the receiving end even if that person is a genuine friend he can trust. But it seems like being a god isn’t as fun as it seems to be. 

Not as MK trembles even with a giant smile on his face. “Yeah, of course! Wh-Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He needs to teach the kid not to follow Wukong’s ideology of fake it till you make it. 

“Hey! Hand him over!” 

Macaque raises an eyebrow before stepping through a portal that puts him inside Wukong’s dedicated ‘mediation’ spot, ears twitching at the ‘MACAQUE’ that echos from below. 

“Alright, let’s work on getting you back to your proper size.” 

MK looks almost surprised, yelping as he’s gently slid onto the ground. Macaque can’t help giving a poke that makes the kid nearly fall over, smirking when he’s given the single most nonthreatening glare. “So what’s the story with the rockslide?” 

Not what he thought would be said. Possibly ‘please don’t kill me’ or ‘Monkey King’s going to be here any minute’. Then again, Wukong isn’t one to tell about his failed endeavors. “Oh, it started because someone was being an idiot while climbing the mountain.” 

“Don’t you dare finish that story!” Wukong calls as he races through the hall, skidding to a halt. Hesitating at the sight of Macaque sitting on the floor with his student perfectly unharmed. “And stop kidnapping MK!” 

“I will if you properly teach him something,” the shadow growls. 

“...will for which one?” 

“Wukong thought it’d be a great idea to-” 

“Okay, okay!” the celestial primate grumbles as he joins them on the floor. Gives MK a poke that ends in the kid falling over. “Growing back will involve a bit of meditation. Which requires silence.” 

Macaque rolls his eyes, but he’s content in letting Wukong continue the lesson without interruptions. Especially when MK immediately raises his hand. “Question about the hawk transformation. Am I supposed to think about more than just its size?” 

They both stare down at the kid for a few moments. 

“...maybe I should’ve been more specific.” 

“You’re both hopeless.” 

#Editor has now been satisfied #for now #they were Very Happy to give me another AU idea however #which is cruel and unusual punishment! #I'm trying to get certain series done before adding to my plate! #JERK! #no one tell the Editor I accidentally both had the wrong name for the show and the wrong spelling of monkie #Lego Monkie Kid #g/t #BTE writing #What Could Go Wrong #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

Terms Of Agreement | Chapter 2

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Run Down: The monster under your bed, the one in the closet, and your sleep paralysis demon fight for custody.

Content Warnings: Mentions of a funeral. Mentions of sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation. Mentions of death, murder, and accidental deaths. Mentions of treating others as lesser than, addressing someone as 'it'.

As promised, the Fritz has been tortured

____________________________________

The first thing Fritz did when it seemed like no one was coming to grab him was attempt to block entry points. 

In hindsight, he should’ve realized that beings that were creatures only told in stories wouldn’t be deterred by anything a regular teenager could do, but he couldn’t do nothing. So that meant pushing his dresser in front of his closet door so no one can simply walk out of it without him knowing. Removed his mattress from his bedframe so there wasn’t a dark space underneath capable of hiding unspeakable horrors.

It wasn’t much. And there wasn’t anything he could do to hinder Vincent, but it made him feel much better. Especially when none of the giants appeared at his door to demand he explain himself. Punish him.

Only then did he realize the front door wasn’t the only way to leave, stared at his window as afternoon light illuminated his room before rushing toward it. Felt his heart thump against his chest in relief at the tree only a few feet away not towering above him. Wanted to sob as soon as it became clear the window will not open no matter what he does. The latch claims it’s unlocked, but the sill acts as if it’s been cemented. 

That was when Fritz decided to not block the door outside of his bedroom. Because as much as he was genuinely terrified of the twisted monstrosity his childhood home has become, as much as he didn’t want three giants who want him dead to be able to grab him, he’d be completely cornered. It might even be seen as a challenge that ends with the door being broken, so he only locked the flimsy knob. 

He then sat down on his mattress after shoving it into the corner directly across from his door. Wrapped himself up tightly in his blanket. Trembled as he watched and waited. 

Nothing happened. 

His terror almost became unbearable when the sun finally began to set. After not hearing a single voice or footstep. Realized his mom’s friend never came over. Felt his stomach growl from hunger and his eyes droop from exhaustion. 

Staying alert and awake once the sun disappeared was a loosing battle. As much as he feared sleep and what the night would bring, there was no stopping it when his eyes closed for just a second too long, effortlessly pulled him into unconsciousness. Yet when Fritz woke up with a start, daylight greeted him. Not darkness as a figure loomed over him. No form of paralysis that kept him from jumping to his feet in disbelief. There hadn’t been a single nightmare or taunting voice. 

...it was too real not to have been.

Fritz looks around his room with confusion and suspicion. Maybe he should be a bit more relived, but he can’t think of why they would just...leave him alone. For almost 24 hours. After the three promised he was going to be looking over his shoulder every second until he decides how he dies. 

It's almost too good to be true. Meaning he slowly walks to his door to open it, genuinely expecting one of the three waiting for him. Instead, he’s greeted with an empty hallway. One that’s his size. 

Wait!

Fritz lunges out of his room before the house can grow to a monstrous size. Nearly crashes into the wall because it doesn’t change. Stares at the open door that seems to be taunting him. Both as proof for what had been stated it was what controlled the reality around him, and as a dare to try to escape to see what would happen. 

“Hello?” he can’t help calling out. When no one responds, he takes a careful step down the hallway and toward freedom. Freezes at what sounded like someone else in the house. “Vincent? Are you here?” 

The sleep paralysis demon gives no indication he’s even inside the house. 

“I-It wasn’t a hallucination,” Fritz mumbles as he walks back into his room, turning around to see the hallway still hasn’t changed. “It was too real to be one.” 

The teenager is left to stare at nothing, feeling paranoid. Fearful it somehow had been a hallucination despite the fact he wholeheartedly believes it was real. It had to be real. 

...he’s going to be late for the funeral. 

Fritz grabs his phone at the realization what today was supposed to be focused on. Checking the date, time, glancing at the hallway that still remains untouched by supernatural forces. Peeks his head out to once again confirm the front door is open. 

I shouldn’t push it.

He shouldn’t. He should grab the clothes set aside for the funeral and run out the door as fast as possible before he’s trapped inside. He should get out while he can. 

The moment he reaches for his button up and slacks is when a text buzzes on his phone, Jeremy’s name appearing to state he’ll be over in about an hour so they can walk to the service together. 

What did Vincent say? A normal human doing normal human things? 

F- don’t come inside, just text when you get here!

With that he decides to take a chance and jump into the shower. Is he an idiot? Yes. But he wasn’t going to go to his own mother’s funeral looking like he didn’t care. Not to mention how irresponsible it’d be to go after not eating for over an entire day. Literal monsters might have taken over his home, but today is for his mom, and she’s going to get the respect she deserves. 

J- Here!

Fritz is out the door the second his phone buzzes, looking presentable and fed, even if he could only manage to eat half a bowl of cereal. All that mattered is he was out and didn’t get trapped at the last second. Unable to help flinging himself at Jeremy for a much needed hug. One his best friend doesn’t hesitate to return. Not knowing it was to help the redhead establish this is real. 

“Are y-you okay?” the taller asks. 

No.

“I’m okay,” Fritz begins as he pulls away. Wipes away his tears before grabbing Jeremy’s hand to lead him down the street. Feels his shoulders growing lighter and lighter the farther away he gets despite what’s waiting for him at the cemetery. “It was...it was a rough night.” 

His hand is gently squeezed to offer support. They don’t say anything else, though. Not on the entire walk to the cemetery. Not when he says goodbye to his mom one last time. Not until they’re excused and told there was nothing else left to do, but he knew where her grave was and could visit at any time. 

“W-W-Would you like to come o-over?” Jeremy asks as they start the journey back to Fritz’s house.

His first thought is to say yes. Because despite the Fitzgerald family having incredibly strict household rules and repeatedly making it clear how little they thought of the friends their son invites, Fritz would take that over literal giants openly discussing his death. 

He didn’t know if that would be breaking some kind of rule, however. The three said he was allowed to spend time with friends, but he doesn’t know the details and what would be ‘allowed’ or not. And to top it off, the minute he’s inside Jeremy’s house, the Fitgerald’s would have to physically remove him to make him leave. Not when he’d fight tooth and nail to stay with those who are simply hostile rather than deadly. 

“Maybe some other time.” 

Jeremy gently squeezes his hand. “Don’t hesitate to t-text or call, o-o-okay?” 

Fritz nods in agreement as they stop in front of his house. He can’t help but stare at it for a few moments with genuine trepidation. Terrified of what’s waiting for him. “Thank you, Jeremy.” 

“Always,” his best friend smiles. “Want me to-?” 

“No!” Fritz almost screams, jumping away from Jeremy as if a hand was going to emerge through the open door and grab him, uncaring if there would be an extra passenger. Feels like he was stabbed through the heart at the look of hurt on his friend’s face. “I-I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry-” 

Jeremy suddenly pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s okay. P-P-Please let me know if you n-need anything.” 

Fritz clings to the taller, wanting nothing more than to never let go. “I will.” 

“I’ll s-see you at school.” 

Just like that, he’s left to climb up the porch steps alone. Stands on the doormat as he stares down the hallway, pleading it stays exactly where it is until he’s able to get to his room. 

Doesn’t get a full foot inside before the front door slams shut. 

Fritz screams as the impact not only sounds like thunder as it makes the very ground shake, but he’s suddenly sent tumbling head over heels as the wind created knocks him off his feet. 

“Welcome home.” 

The rumbling voice proves this morning had been nothing but a false sense of security. It only gets worse when he finally orients himself, sitting up to freeze at the sight of a shoe the size of a bus pointed directly at him. 

Yesterday had been terrifying. But this? Being on the ground rather than on a counter or in a hand? Knowing they want to do nothing more than kill him? 

“Fritz!” someone shouts from somewhere behind him. The demand for his attention is the only reason he remembers to breathe, though his limbs are shaking too much to try and turn to see who it is. “You’re finally back! I don’t know if you ate while you were out, but food will be ready shortly.” 

It takes a moment to recognize it’s Vincent’s voice. A few more to register what was said. Becomes genuinely confused why his sleep paralysis demon was making him food. 

“You heard him,” booms directly overhead. “I suggest you start making your way toward the kitchen.” 

Fritz’s eyes slowly trail upwards. Has to tilt his head backwards until he’s forced to lean back until he’s nearly lying down. Feels a sense of vertigo when he finally recognizes the giant as David, the monster staring down at him like one would a bug that invaded their home. 

He fully expects to be crushed under a shoe right then and there. But the longer they stare at each other, and with the giant not even shifting in place, Fritz finds himself finally able to turn his head toward the kitchen. Stares at the sight of Vincent doing something out of sight as James watches with mild interest. 

With a glance toward the shoes in the hopes that will be the closest they ever get to him, Fritz carefully stands up before numbly walking toward the kitchen. Confused. Exhausted. Wanting to go to his room even as his stomach gnaws on itself painfully. 

He wasn’t going to risk testing David, however. Not when a shoe steps much too close for comfort once Fritz gained enough distance. The impact not only caused an earthquake that made him stumble, but it made an imposing wall between him and the hallway to the only place he felt any semblance of safety in. Meaning he doesn’t dare try to deviate from the path currently demanded he follow. 

“Remind me,” Vincent begins, pure white eyes locking onto the redhead steadily making his way closer. “Why don’t you eat cauliflower?” 

Fritz hesitates, not expecting that kind of question. Especially worded in a way that made it seem almost conversational. “I-I’m allergic to them.” 

“Right, allergies. And what about carrots?” 

“I just don’t like them.” 

The sleep paralysis demon smiles in thank you, leaving the teenager bewildered on why such information was needed. Wanting to ask, but almost immediately distracted by David taking another step. Something that almost seems as a warning he shouldn’t be questioning them or their motives. 

James then tilts his head. “What are allergies?” 

“Just another thing to add to the long list of what can kill humans,” Vincent waves. 

Suddenly Fritz is turned to, unable to help freezing up completely under the scrutiny. “Is there anyway to get rid of it?” 

“U-Um, not really,” he begins. Terrified something he can’t control will be used against him in some way. What if it’s deemed that his reaction is might be painful, but it’s not fatal, and therefore a viable option for punishment. “I’m not a doctor, but I’ve, I’ve always been allergic. And-d-d it hasn’t gone away, my throat closes up if I’m near it when it’s being cooked.” 

“Relax, Fritz, we can’t physically harm you, including intentionally making allergies flare up.” 

Part of him wants to trust Vincent’s words. A much larger part is telling him he should lie about eating at the funeral and make sure he never has so much as a single bite from food made by those who want him dead. Make an excuse for today and then bargain having his home the proper size so he can make his own meals later. 

He can’t find the words to ask to be excused to go to his room, however. Only flinch as David silently demands he continue further into the kitchen, a shoe stepping directly behind him. So he continues despite getting closer to the counter Vincent has been actively walking around with a clear focus on everything but the ground. 

That is, until he reaches the counter that has the sink, prompting the demon to give his familiar wide smile as he gives his full attention to Fritz. “You have yet to not surprise me.” 

That sounds like a compliment.

A compliment, but for what? Fritz doesn’t know what he’s done to earn such a sentence. And with all of their previous interactions, it’s hard to see it as anything but a way to make him doubt himself. Make him even more confused on what this ‘custody battle’ arrangement means for him. One minute he’s threatened and taunted, promised he won’t have a single restful night. The next, the door is open so he can go to his mom’s funeral without any obstacles after being left completely alone for a full day. 

“C-Can I ask a few questions?” 

That only makes Vincent’s smile grow wider. “Of course! Let’s get you off the floor first.” 

Fritz feels his heart drop as his sleep paralysis demon walks toward him, all too aware he could be killed on pure accident. He can’t run, though, not with David standing directly behind him. Though even if he could, the earthquakes make him fall onto his back, unable to do anything except curl into a fearful ball as a hand reaches for him. 

He feels warmth and something nudging his side before he’s sent tumbling with a yell. Covers his head in fear as a dark chuckle confirms he’s been grabbed, gasping when vertigo makes his stomach flip. Yet it all disappears within seconds as he’s spilled onto the counter. Glad he’s wearing more layers as the cold ceramic tiles attempt to steal what little body heat he has. 

“So,” Vincent smirks. “What would you like to ask?” 

“This morning. Wh-Why did you, why weren’t you here?” 

David snorts as he heavily leans against the counter opposite of where Fritz was deposited, the teenager flinching at the sound seeming like a building colliding with something. “You wanted to wake up to Vincent greeting you?” 

“No! I mean, I was just expecting it,” Fritz defends. “I-I just didn’t know what happened. You said you’d torture me every night, but you didn’t, and the door was just open with all of you gone. And now you’re making me food!” 

“Sounds like you’re a little ungrateful,” James murmurs. Making it seem like this morning had been a favor. One that won’t be repeated because Fritz seems upset. 

Which he is! Of course he is! He’s trapped in his own home with three giants who have done nothing but play mind games with him. He’d like to think he’s allowed to be upset. Even if that means possibly yelling at literal demons and monsters. Especially if the rest of his life, no matter how short it might be, will be filled with nothing but terror, then he has a right to voice his opinions. 

Except, now he doesn’t feel as confident as before. Not with James comment and clear distain. Not with David looking indifferent and uninterested. Vincent’s not even paying attention anymore as he stands over the stove. 

Fritz can’t help curling into himself, looking down at tiles that shouldn’t seem so alien to him. “I’m s-sorry.” 

“Naw, don’t loose steam now,” Vincent pouts. “I thought you were going to let James have it!” 

That earns the sleep paralysis demon a look of despair, prompting him to turn off the burner. And then a bowl Fritz’s size is offered, one that’s taken purely out of shock, not knowing what else to do. 

“This morning will actually be a routine on the weekdays,” Vincent begins. Leaning over to set his arms on counter with enough space to not seem like he’s looming. “Today is the exception with everything considered, but it’s our compromise so you get to school on time, with the door open and none of us around to distract you. Once you get home, and on every other weekend, the door will be closed with at least one of us around.” 

...that makes sense. “Wh-What about last night?” 

“I neglected to give you a schedule. We didn’t want to overload you, especially with how shaken up you were. In hindsight, not the best choice, but it worked out in the end!” 

Fritz stares up at the demon beaming down at him. Glances at the bowl in his hands containing soup. Not missing the fact there’s carrots in it. “And the food?” 

“You’re a human teenager who might not know how to properly take care of yourself, so I’ll be making sure you don’t die on us from malnutrition. Or from complications with food allergies.” 

It’s clear preferences such as carrots are still fair game. But that helped him understand why those who want him dead are acting ‘nice’. It’s just insurance he doesn’t die before he chooses who gets his soul. 

Fritz opens his mouth to ask about the other rules, specifically what could get him punished and what that entails, but the soup that has been keeping his hands warm keeps stealing his attention. It smells like something his mom would’ve made. Which he should be suspicious why Vincent could make such a thing considering the demon would have to find the recipe, want to follow it, and that brings up the concept of the catastrophic being knowing how to. 

Hunger wins over. And the second he tastes it and confirms this is his mom’s recipe, he’s unable to stop himself from eating spoonful after spoonful. 

“Are humans really this much work?” David grumbles. 

“You could always forfeit, David. James and I don’t mind one less competitor.” 

“Oh please. If I leave you with James you’d drop out purely from how much he’d annoy you.” 

“Says the monster who constantly complains this is just a waste of time.” 

“Says the monster who didn’t know what allergies are.” 

Fritz’s grip on the bowl tightens as he gathers his courage. “Wh-What happens if I don’t come home?” 

The three go silent. Not a hint of being upset their argument was interrupted, but they all look slightly confused. Maybe just surprised. “Mind giving us a little more detail?” 

“Not forever!” he quickly amends as a shiver travels down his spine at the clear warning. “I meant for a, a single night! If I was at a friend’s.” 

“Ah,” Vincent murmurs with a sneer. “Our nights are still ours, Fritz. No matter where you are.” 

That’s enough to get the point across. That if he spends the night at Jeremy’s, his best friend would be in danger. Or anyone for that matter depending on where he was. Which makes him feel even more confined, but at least he knows. 

“Um, th-thank you.” 

“Mind if I take it in payment for helping me train these two on how not to kill you preemptively?” 

Fritz doesn’t know if this is better than sitting in his room and not knowing what’s waiting for him. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#the fun will start soon! #once David and James are properly trained on how to not accidentally crush a human #unfortunately they have not taken the course yet #hope ya'll enjoy! #oh! #and there will be a surprise on Friday #and yes it is the Editor's fault #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Terms Of Agreement #BTE writing #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

The Expense Of Trust: Chapter 3

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Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of others being lesser than. Intent to kill. Death by anomaly. Dehumanization. Addressing someone as 'it'. Darker themes and tone.

Run Down: In the instant of a site-wide containment breach, there are only a few protocols available to follow. Know the right people, hope to be at the right place at the right time, and whatever you do, don't trust anything.

Scott can't seem to catch a break, but next week we torture Fritz

______________________________

Scott’s first thought when Vincent instructed him to turn around was to prepare to run. 

Because up until that point, the living shadow hadn’t been helping in escaping the facility unless he was in immediate danger, and even then it’s been verbal directions while hiding in Scott’s own shadow despite having the capability of using a corporeal form. Meaning it was up to the containment specialist to do all of the leg work in carefully making his way toward an exit. 

Instead of an SCP rounding the corner, however, he was greeted with the sight of a small group of people lined along the wall of the hallway opposite of the one he had been making his way down. 

At first he was confused, managing to identify D-Class and medical personnel, the latter he actually recognizes as the kid who has checked over him monthly ever since he made the deal with Vincent. A tactile response officer, a researcher, and someone wearing a suit. And there is only one person in this entire facility who wears a full piece suit. 

The moment he realized it was David seemed to be the same moment the senior researcher recognized Scott.

He expected a lot of things. Annoyance due to their interactions always turning into arguments regarding wearing proper safety gear. Possibly even relief finding another person who hasn’t fallen victim to an anomaly. At the very worse indifference considering on the surface, Scott wouldn’t have much to contribute when it comes to escaping other than having each and every hallway memorized and therefore able to lead them to the exit. 

No, David suddenly looks horrified before turning around. Begins running in the opposite direction. 

Was the senior researcher leaving him behind? 

Scott tries to quench his anger, sending a glance over his shoulder to see if an anomaly snuck up behind him. Because the man couldn’t be that selfish and leave someone to die because they had arguments. 

There’s nothing. No sign of a single SCP. Honestly, Scott should’ve expected it given his track record. 

“They’re heading straight toward an anomaly,” Vincent pipes up. 

Wait. “What kind of anomaly?” 

“The bad kind,” is all that’s offered. 

Great. Wonderful. So either Scott can be the bigger person and warn them despite the clear want to leave him to survive on his own, or pretend he doesn’t have such vital information and simply continue toward the exit. 

Of course Vincent wouldn’t care which is chosen. The demon has made it blatantly clear he finds the morals most humans possess to be quite entertaining. Wouldn’t hang it over Scott’s head if he picks the second option because it’s just a matter of survival, simply revel in watching the guilt slowly consume the containment specialist from the inside out. 

God damn it. 

“Dav-!” 

His shout is cut off as the ground vanishes from beneath his feet the moment he stepped forward to chase after them. He’s in freefall for a few seconds, unable to breathe, unable to scream, staring out into a pitch-black void. 

It feels like a lifetime has passed, and then the ground appears as if it was always there, Scott unable to stop his momentum. Forced to bring his hands up in the attempt to soften his collision with a wall that seemed to have materialized from thin air. 

It didn’t, he’s more or less used to Vincent’s way of ‘teleporting’ him from place to place, but he will never be an ‘expert’ at it. Not when he’s positive the demon purposefully throws him near objects just to see him trip or at the very least nearly break his nose. 

Scott’s fairly certain he earned a slight concussion this round, but this time he manages to stay on his feet. Looks around the room before spotting the open door. Racing out in the hopes he managed to stop David in time, only to immediately feel hands grab his shoulders before an arm is secured around his neck. 

He feels panic flood his heart as a hand is placed on his forehead, begins to struggle with all his might. Praying he isn’t killed all because he was trying to save their lives. “I’m not an anomaly!” 

"He’s n-n-not!” 

“David.” 

“He’s not, but he’s marked.” 

Scott doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but once he realizes he opens them to be greeted with David staring down at him with a grim expression. Stares as the taller man pushes someone behind him. 

The worst part however is the sight of some kind of mist creeping around the corner heading straight toward them. 

“Behind you!” 

The arm that had been slowly restricting his throat releases him. But before he can process why, hand is on his back to shove him away from the oncoming threat. “Move.” 

Scott doesn’t need to be told twice, obediently running back toward the spot he had originally been. Only slows down for a second in order to meet Jeremy in the eye. The one familiar face he doesn’t have a bad past with. “Follow me.” 

He’s unable to wait for the kid to give a response, sprinting down the opposite hallway and making a swift left to continue on his path toward an exit. 

“Right.” 

Vincent’s directions aren’t questioned. He still has a hard time trusting the demon, but with Scott’s life currently on the line he has no room to argue. And this time, he can’t help having a little bit of faith at the sight of a security door only a few yards away. 

"Stop!” 

He barely manages to in time, skidding to a halt right before stepping out into the hallway parallel to the one he’s currently in. Gasps for air as his legs tremble from the exertion and terror. Remembers he’s not alone and whirls around to see Jeremy’s about a few feet behind him, able to slow down without any trouble. Followed by the D-Class, the officer- they all followed him. Even David. 

“V-Vince?” Scott begins, hoping he’ll get a little more information on what’s stopping them from reaching the security door. It’s right there. As soon as they get through it they’re essentially home free. 

“There’s something waiting in the hallway,” the demon begins. “As soon as you step out it’ll grab you.” 

“God damn it.” 

“Right or left?” the officer asks as he walks closer, grabbing a small disk from his belt. Meaning he heard Vincent’s explanation. And is willing to give the disembodied voice the benefit of the doubt. 

Vincent hums. “Directly above, actually.” 

The man nods once. Presses one side of the disk before throwing it out into the hallway. “Brace yourself.” 

Scott didn’t know who was being addressed, but within the fraction of a second, something drops from the ceiling and disappearing once more the device gone. A moment later it sounds as if something exploded right before he feels the displacement of air. 

“Thirty seconds.” 

He’s at the security door in five. Swipes his key in one. Holds it open as he counts everyone making it through before slamming it shut with four to spare. 

“Scott,” David growls lowly in between labored breaths. “You better explain yourself.” 

“Well aren’t you a hypocrite,” Vincent begins as his shadow stretches onto the wall beside Scott. He then steps out of it to form a familiar purple man. One who’s grinning from ear to ear. “I also seem to recall it’s none of your business.” 

“It is my business when I’m apparently dealing with a demon!” 

“Oh so we’re making deals, now.” 

“Vince,” Scott hisses to try and reel the living shadow back in, even if it might be completely fruitless. 

He almost misses the officer doing the same thing to David. Though instead of flashing a condescending smile, the taller man backs down. “How do names work?” 

Vincent’s smile suddenly vanishes. “You’re a hunter who knows what he’s doing.” 

“And it seems your only weapon is ambiguity.” 

That earns a low whistle. “I can see how you managed to get someone like him under your thumb. You’re safe with your first. Last is pushing it.” 

“I’m James,” the officers introduces, locking eyes with Scott most likely looking just as lost as he feels. “Thank you for helping us.” 

“Of course. I’m Scott, this is Vince-” 

A hand is suddenly covers his mouth before he can finish the living shadow’s name, leaving him stunned as Vincent gives a dark chuckle before removing his hand. “No need to overshare, Scotty.” 

“We're going to trust this?” David demands as he gestures toward the scene in front of him. Honestly, Scott can’t even be upset. Not when it’s abundantly clear he knows nothing about the demon he made a contract with. 

“At least I have a rulebook,” Vincent shrugs. “I’m much more concerned with the half-breed.” 

Scott feels like he was left behind somewhere. He doesn’t know where exactly, and to be entirely truthfully he might even want to know. But considering someone was able to wrangle Vincent within just a few seconds, he wants to stay on good terms with James. If that means somehow fixing his and David’s relationship in one way or another, then he will do it, no matter what it takes. 

The only issue is the fact Vincent seems dead set on trying to anger everyone. Including Jeremy who attempts to glare at the demon. “H-H-His name is M-Mike.” 

Scott doesn’t want to know why Vincent suddenly looks very excited. “This is going to be fun.” 

“James,” David all but pleads. 

“They both saved our lives,” is all the officer says. 

That is the last straw for Scott. The realization that the only reason why someone is staying on his side is because a favor is owed. “Vince. Do me a favor and shut up.” 

“Did I go too far?” the demon stage whispers with a smug smile. 

“You know you did!” Scott exclaims. Uncaring if the others are watching and listening. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t intentionally antagonize.” 

“What for?” Vincent asks. It almost feels like a slap in the face from how genuine it is. As if the living shadow can’t find any reason not to be. 

“You know what, forget it.” 

“Did the fact I’m a demon just slip your mind?” 

“Did you claiming we’re friends slip yours?” 

Vincent suddenly barks out a laugh. “Did you honestly think I meant that?” 

Scott stares up at the demon for a moment. Memorizing the sneer and the sheer joy at the fact he managed to trick the containment specialist. 

Someone who bent over backward for the anomaly to make the research teams back off after they managed to get under Vincent’s skin. Pulled several strings in order to get a table placed inside the demon’s containment room so he could protect himself within reason. Genuinely enjoyed answering questions about ‘odd human mannerisms’ when the living shadow escaped containment for the sole purpose to bother Scott. 

Looking back on it, he should’ve realized he was just being used. It’s nothing new. Just meant he was an idiot for thinking a shadow demon would be any different. 

Well two could play at that game. 

He refuses to acknowledge Vincent’s sneer quickly vanishing as it’s replaced with a look of regret. “Scotty-” 

Scott brushes past James and David in order to lead the way down the smaller corridors on this side of the security door. Tunnels normally meant for maintenance that should be empty of most SCP’s. And for any that managed to slip through the cracks, Vincent will easily be able to sense them before they get to close. Something he’ll have to announce or else Scott gets killed considering he’s first in line. 

“Scotty, wait.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge Vincent running to catch up with him, the living shadow opting to keep a form he’s commented on being less superior. For what reason, Scott doesn’t care enough to think about. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” Vincent murmurs as he falls in step with the shorter. 

“No, you’re right,” Scott shrugs. “You’re just a demon who doesn’t possess any feelings.” 

“Look, I know you’re angry-” 

“How do you know what anger is?” 

“Hey,” the demon growls. “Stop being pretty.” 

Scott glances up to see if Vincent was intentionally botching the saying, not wanting to be tricked. But there’s a genuine scowl aimed toward him. No hint of a smirk. “It’s petty.” 

Vincent opens his mouth with a glare before hesitating, seeming to realize what was said. “What did I say?” 

“Pretty can be an amplifier or a compliment.” 

“Stop being pretty petty.” 

Scott hates himself for wanting to smile at how confidently the sentence was spoken. “Close enough.” 

“I think of you as a friend,” Vincent grumbles, as if he’s unsure how to feel about such a confession. “I offered a deal instead of killing you for a reason. I really do enjoy throwing you across rooms.” 

Scott gives a look. “Not what you’re supposed to enjoy in a friendship.” 

“But then I would be lying if I said anything else!” 

He whirls on the demon in order to properly chew him out, yelling when Vincent sinks into his shadow with a laugh. “Asshole!” 

“Are you two done?” David snaps from the back of the line. One that has James at the front who stopped a few feet away when Scott did. Following by Mike, Jeremy, and the assistant researcher he had completely forgotten about. A bit unsure where the kid has been this entire time. “I’d prefer to get out of this place before whatever the hell is kept in the basement finally realizes it can escape containment.” 

Scott glances around the corridor. Staring when he spots a door almost to his immediate left. The door he was looking for, actually, because on the other side is a direct path to an exit out of the facility. 

“Don’t-!” 

Vincent’s warning came too late as the door swings open. 

He was expecting a horrific Eldritch being by how panicked the living shadow sounded. Yet all he sees is a young boy no older than ten years old standing about a yard away. Holding nothing but a plush golden bear. With a blade of shadow as long as he is tall racing forward to slice him cleanly in half. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

#Scott does not know how to deal with a demon #and Vincent would like to continue being extremely unhelpful thank you very much #but they're friends! #also I apologize I lied about posting a schedule #but I can confirm only three series will be posted consistantly until all or one is finished #and that's this one #ghosts #bingo #and custody battle #writing just tends to lean toward one of the four at the most random of times so I feel bad for making a promise and then breaking it #but those four getting 'finished' is a promise! #terms and conditions may apply #have a great week! #FNAF bois #SCP AU #BTE writing #cw #content warning

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How To Care For Your Sick Scott

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of a fever, working while sick. Fear of punishment.

His day off has long been overdue

______________________________

Scott feels like absolute shit. 

He didn’t think anything was wrong at first. He woke up to his alarm clock at 6am, well aware he’d be getting a call or text from someone, either saying something happened during the night shift and only wanted to report it so they had plenty of time to get home and avoid the well deserved wrath, or Afton informing him of his tasks that need to get done for the day. 

The point is, he woke up to press the snooze button. Closed his eyes with a long sigh as he waited for the all too familiar ding of a message appearing on his phone. 

And he did hear one. Except it was for one that came through at noon because he apparently fell back asleep right as the one from Afton was sent at 6:01am. And as soon as he reached for his phone after spotting the time on his clock, that was when he realized he felt awful. Like a giant had their hand wrapped around him with the want to squeeze him to death awful.

It took him a little too long to realize he’s sick. But the thing is, Scott doesn’t get sick. Afton made sure of that considering he wouldn’t want his overglorified secretary being unable to work. Being sick essentially means getting a pass from nigh-impossible tasks and experiments. God, wouldn’t that be a shame. 

But it is. One look at the messages says there’s too much to do to be sick. This doesn’t excuse him from what needs to be done today, it’s just made it ten times harder. 

Scott takes a deep breath as the panic rises. Sucks in a gasp when his stomach protests from just sitting up, wanting to throw something at the wall at the realization he’d have to stick to water today. How can this day get any better. 

He makes an effort to focus on his phone screen. Blinks in confusion at why David was asking where he was. Groans when it finally clicks as he reads Afton’s early morning text stating he was supposed to be at Fazbear Entertainment Center at 11am. 

At least that was the only thing the sadistic bastard wanted. He’ll let David know he’ll be there in half an hour. But the text from Jeremy says BalloonBoy’s out of commission, though that might just have to wait. And he is not brave enough to ask how that happened. Anything from Jeremy is supposed to be a report from Mike one of the originals is in bad shape and nothing else. 

Scott rubs his face in frustration, despising the fog over his mind. He can work with it, though. He just needs to get dressed and head toward David’s restaurant. That’s all he needs to do for now. 

He actually manages to succeed leaving his house in five minutes. The only problem is it sapped all of his energy. And to top it off his entire body shakes from chills that forced him to put on a long sleeve and pants for the first time in years, and yet it doesn’t nothing to chase away how cold he feels. 

It takes all of Scott’s willpower to continue walking along the street. He would much rather crawl back under the covers and fall asleep, but he can’t. It’s either fighting through this, or letting Afton do whatever the hell he wants as soon as the human is back at 100% by asking for a sick day. 

He’s fine, though. Made it to David’s restaurant without any issues. 

Stares at the door for a solid five minutes because no way in hell is he able to time darting after footsteps in his current state. He’ll end up underfoot or caught by the closing door. Why has David still not created a human friendly entrance? Why did Scott ever approve Fritz getting transferred here if risking their lives is the only way to get inside? 

“Mr. Cawthon?” 

He almost forgets that’s his last name, quickly looking up to see the towering form of Lefty of all animatronics holding the door open. 

“Yes?” 

The black bear looks as if he wants to say something before thinking better of it. “Mr. Harrison informed us you would be visiting. Would you mind some assistance coming inside?” 

Scott shakes his head as he quickly walks into the building. He tries to keep an eye on Lefty to ensure the door is held until he’s completely out of the way, but the only thing he can focus on is the screaming. He’s been long since used to it, but today it just seems like there’s a hundred children rather than just thirty. 

It’s too much. The overwhelming noises making his head feel like it’s going to split. The chills wracking his body leaving his legs trembling so much that if a giant steps too close, he’ll fall to the floor and be unable to stand back up. His stomach is having a war between feeling nauseous, and being too cold for it. 

“Hey, Scott!” 

He whirls around to see Fritz darting through the door Lefty still holds open, feeling nothing but relief having the redhead here. Until he remembers it’s a weekday. “Why are you not at school?” 

He’s given fearful wide eyes before they both jump at Lefty’s laughter. “You would get caught by Scott on the day you skip school.” 

“I didn’t skip!” Fritz exclaims. “It was a half day I swear!” 

Scott scowls. “If I find out David’s been encouraging skipping classes for work.” 

“He’s not, honestly! He even has my schedule for school, so if I did ditch he’d send me back.” 

Scott would like to trust that David would be that responsible, but he’s not fully certain. At least Fritz doesn’t look guilty carrying his backpack and not wearing a uniform. But without the distraction of concern, he’s reminded that he still feels terrible and should not attempt in walking through a restaurant only meant for giants. It’s a miracle no one’s stepped on him so far. 

“You okay, Scott?” Fritz asks. “You look a little pale.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to not admit he’s most likely running a fever. Maybe it’s the fear it’ll get back to Afton. Or that if he says it out loud, his body will give up and he’ll be forced to take a sick day. Possibly even the fact he doesn’t want Fritz to worry about him, not when the kid already has so much on his plate. 

“I’m fine,” Scott waves. Manages to turn toward the hallway the leads to David’s office without making his head spin, numbly putting one foot in front of the other as he makes his way toward the wall. 

He didn’t expect Fritz to follow, but he’s more than grateful when the teenager joins him. “Did Mr. Harrison summon you?” 

“Afton,” the eldest guard grumbles. He was going to continue the thought, but he can’t help getting distracted every time a child runs past them. “How has school been?” 

Fritz perks up at the question. “There’s a robotics competition coming up! I think I’m going to sign up and-” 

Scott honestly listens to every word that’s said. He misses a few pieces, and there’s a moment when he brain is so foggy he nearly forgot why they were walking through the restaurant in the first place, but he’s able to catch the majority. Got reminded how much he’s missed Fritz working at Freddy Fazbear’s. At least David has kept his word in ensuring the kid has been kept safe and mostly happy. 

But it feels like between one blink and the next, and they finally arrive at David’s office door. Thank God it’s cracked open or else Scott would have just turned right back around. 

“Scott’s here, Mr. Harrison!” Fritz calls up when they’re not immediately noticed, especially as the eldest guard opts to make his way over to the stairs built into the giant’s desk without uttering a word. 

David pauses his typing to look down at them, Scott earning an eyeroll before a suspicious look is fixed on Fritz. “Half day?” 

“Scott already grilled me,” the redhead confirms. 

That seems to satisfy the business man who then sends a glare toward Scott. “Any particular reason why you’re about two hours late?” 

“I might be Afton’s lapdog, but I can’t always show up at the exact time he tells me to.” 

He waits for David to air out his grievances. Most likely state he lost precious time and therefore money. If Scott is Afton’s lapdog then he should always be on time, rain or shine, no excuses. He exists only to do what the company owner asks him to, nothing more. 

But it doesn’t happen, the giant content on finishing what he’s currently working on as he waits for Scott to make it onto the desk. And truth be told, he’s proud he did manage to make it to the top, but he feels like he’s going to collapse at any second. Keeps a white knuckled grip on the railing to ensure he doesn’t crumple onto the ground. 

He’s fine, he just needs a minute to catch his breath. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Scott?” Fritz murmurs. 

“Fine,” is rasped out, hoping saying it out loud will make it true. But then a water bottle is offered, and Scott all but attempts to drown himself with it. “Thank you.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to be enough,” David rumbles, making the eldest guard jump by how close the giant is, not having noticed him leaning down. “You look like shit.” 

“I’m fine, I just need a moment.” 

“I could see you shaking when you were climbing up the stairs. Even I can tell you look pale.” 

Scott clenches his fists at the scrutiny, not wanting a lecture from David of all people. The moment he opens his mouth, however, a fingerprint appears in front of his face. He’s so confused by how it got there he doesn’t even realize it’s pressed against his forehead. And even when he does, there’s no movement to get away. Not with the wave of warmth that washes over him. 

He even takes a few steps forward after it retreats. “Scott you’re burning up. You’re almost too hot for me to tolerate.” 

“Have you taken any medicine?” Fritz begins, looking almost upset as he looks up at the eldest guard. “You haven’t drank any coffee today, have you?” 

"I don’t need you to act like my mother,” Scott can’t help but snap. Angry with the idea of not only David voicing his opinion, but a teenager saying what’s best. “I know my limits and when coffee’s a bad idea. Just let me do my job.” 

With that, he stomps toward David’s computer. 

Well, he tried to. He didn’t realize just how much his body was shaking. Even worse than before. Meaning he doesn’t even get two steps in before his knees buckle, leaving him to fall forward to faceplant onto the desk’s hard surface. 

For the first time in a long time, Scott is grateful when fingers catch him instead. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” 

That’s when he’s carefully scooped up, vertigo making his stomach twist as he’s lifted up. A part of him says he’s supposed to be doing everything in his power to escape the hand holding him, to scream, kick, bite, plead. But for once there’s a louder part that’s wanting to do nothing more than go limp, sighing in relief as he’s warmed to his core. 

“You are definitely sick,” David grumbles. “I’m going to call Mutated Grape and-” 

“NO!” Scott screams as he sits up so quickly his vision goes dark for a moment. Fails to notice the giant looking shocked from the outburst, too focused on making sure he’s listened to. “Don’t call Vince or Afton! I-I can get everything done! I just, I just need ten minutes, that’s it. Please, I can still work I promise I’ll get it all done!” 

Because he can he just needs to rest for ten minutes. Ten minutes, and he’ll be able to do everything Afton needs. 

David clears his throat before lowering his voice. “I won’t call them. Can I call James, though?” 

Scott stares at nothing as he thinks the request over, trying to remember if the man would have to report him to Afton. “Only James?” 

“I’ll put him on speaker phone,” the giant offers. 

The eldest guard slowly nods, his shoulders slumping in relief when David lowers his hand so the phone screen is visible after it’s set down next to Fritz on the desk. Tenses when James’ name is tapped on, watching to make sure no extra buttons are pressed except to be put on speaker. 

“Working, David.” 

“We’ve got a problem.” 

James hesitates. “What kind of problem?” 

“Scott’s so sick he’s letting me hold him and panicked when I suggested telling William kind of problem.” 

“He’s what?” 

“Mr. Harrison’s telling the truth,” Fritz pipes up. “It sounds like a fever, but he refuses to take the day off. He even walked all the way to the restaurant.” 

Scott wants to say something. To tell James he’s fine. To ask the doctor to tell the others he just needs ten minutes and then he’ll be good to go. 

“Scott, how do you feel?” 

“I’m fine,” he quickly replies. “I can still work.” 

“What needs to get done today?” James asks. 

“BalloonBoy’s broken. And I needed to help David with something.” Something that he could be helping with right now after going through all the trouble to get here. 

“Okay, I have an idea,” the doctor begins. “I will text Eggs and see if when he can fix BalloonBoy today. You take some medicine, drink some water, and rest for a little bit. I’m sure David has other things he needs to get done while you’re asleep. Then when you wake up, you can help him with whatever he needs. What do you think?” 

Scott thinks the plan over. Glances at David’s computer to see the unfinished report that was being worked on. He can also trust Eggs to fix whatever’s broken. Just to make sure that’s all that needs to be done, he takes out his phone to carefully reread all of his texts. 

“Okay.” 

“David, do you have fever medicine for humans on hand, or do you need me to give you the dosage he can take from giants?” 

“I’ve got human medicine,” David says. 

“Perfect. You can keep holding him if that’s what he prefers, but if he seems to get warmer have a blanket nearby to put him on. My shift doesn’t end for another few hours, but don’t hesitate to call if anything happens.” 

“Thank you, James,” Fritz waves. 

“I’ll keep you updated.” David then ends the call before locking eyes with Scott. “I’ll get you water and medicine. Do you intend on sleeping in my hand, or would you prefer a blanket?” 

He can already feel the chills returning at the thought of leaving the giant’s warmth. “Hand.” 

“Never thought I’d see the day. Fritz, don’t move, I’ll be right back.” 

Scott groans as his stomach protests from David standing up, burying down further into the warmth in the hopes it’ll make the pain go away. It subsides, though he doesn’t enjoy how much he’s jostled with every footstep taken. Growls when he hears the screams of children and only stopping when they disappear completely with the sound of a door closing. 

It’s only then does he realize David’s laughing, sitting up in order to scowl up at the business man. “What are you laughing at?” 

“You, dumbass. Never did I think you’d growl at children.” 

“They’re loud,” Scott defends as he lifts his hands up in a ‘give me’ motion, unimpressed with how long it takes for the pills and water to be surrendered. 

“You should get sick more often,” David muses. 

That earns him a full glare as the two pills are quickly swallowed down along with the entire cup of water. But just as he curls up to close his eyes, he meets hazel eyes watching him with interest. “Don’t let me sleep too long.” 

“Get some rest, Scott.” 

He’s out like a light, trusting the giant will keep him safe while he sleeps. 

“How is he?” 

The familiar rumbling voice slowly pulls him back toward consciousness. Confused on why he’d want to wake up. He’s warm, comfortable. He forgot why, but he’s confident no one will try to grab him. 

“He’s been asleep this entire time.” 

“I was talking about Scott.” 

“Fritz has only been out for an hour.” 

Scott blinks when he not only hears David’s voice, but it sends tremors through his very core as well. Wants to tell the business man to quiet down. It feels like he’s been asleep for days, and yet it hasn’t been long enough. 

“Eggs already got BalloonBoy fixed. What did you need help with?” 

“William wants the restaurants to start using a new program for financials. I’ve messed around with it, and it’s been pretty intuitive. By the sound of it, either Scott wasn’t given the full story and we figure it out together, or it’s something he’s worked with before and already knows the ins and outs.” 

“When are you expected to send the next report?” 

“A week from now, we’ve got plenty of time.” 

After everything goes silent, Scott finally realizes the second voice as James’ as well as comprehending he’s currently staring at fingers that belong to a giant because he wanted to be held. Why did he want to be held? 

“Has his temperature gone up?” 

“I can’t tell anymore. I’ve held him for so long my hand might as well have a first degree burn.” 

“I think you’re being dramatic.” 

“Why don’t you check his temperature doctor.” 

Scott slowly sits up as he feels David’s hand move, perking up at the sight of James kneeling down in order to offer a smile. “Hello, hello.” 

“Hey, boss. How do you feel?” 

“You two woke me up,” the eldest guard growls as he rubs his eyes. 

“We’ll let you get back to your nap, old man,” James grins. “Do you mind if I take over for David, though?” 

In the back of his mind, Scott knows he shouldn’t want to be held. Knows he should ask to be put down instead. Wants above all just to get back to work because Afton guaranteed has or will send another text with more instructions. 

His head ends up nodding. Going limp against James’ fingers as they gently scoop him up. Snags the closest one to hug as vertigo yet again makes his stomach twist with pain. 

“Good luck with that, by the way,” is said in a way he can’t help but think there’s a smirk on David’s face. “I wasn’t allowed to stand up for anything or else he’d start thrashing. And don’t think for a second you can put him down. He has a vice grip not even Fritz could coax him out of.” 

“And you tell me this after he’s already grabbed my finger?” 

“That was sleeping Scott. I’m sure he’s more reasonable when he’s awake.” 

Scott looks up to watch James’ contemplative expression. Closes his eyes as a finger approaches his face, all too familiar with the rudimentary way of checking for a temperature, even if this one is on a much larger scale. 

“Looks like you have the chills. Can we get more medicine in you before you fall back asleep?” 

...he shouldn’t go back to sleep. He’ll take the medicine, but he hasn’t checked his phone in who knows how long. He knows he’s still not completely recovered, and he’s dreading the moment when he has to leave the giant’s warmth, but the fog over his mind has lessened. He’s already wasted an entire day, he needs to get to work before Afton finds out something’s wrong. 

“Scott,” James begins. “I don’t have any issues pinning you down in order to make you rest.” 

That has the eldest guard bristling. “You wouldn’t dare-” 

“For your own health,” the doctor murmurs. “I would. We can take it from here.” 

That’s when Scott starts to panic, shoving the finger away in order to properly sit up. “No, you don’t understand! Afton will find out, and if any of you help me, he’ll add you to the list! I have to do it or else-!” 

“Scott,” James softly interrupts. “You’re sick, and yet you were still able to get done what was needed. BalloonBoy’s fixed. David spent an entire day at his desk working. I don’t think William will be angry with the ‘how’.” 

Then they don’t know Afton, because he will use this against Scott. 

And yet... 

“Everything’s done?” 

“Everything’s done.” 

Scott hesitates before digging his phone out of his pocket. Feels his heart skip a beat when he sees new message until he realizes none are from Afton. And everything from the guards are wishes to get well. Promises they’ll be coming to check on him at some point. 

It looks like everything is done. 

He flops back down, uncaring about where James is taking him or what the giant is doing. Obediently accepts two more pills and a cup of water. Curls up once more as sleep pulls him under. 

The next time he wakes up is due to feeling overheated, thoroughly upset his fever decided to make things complicated when he was perfectly content. 

“You okay Phone Guy?” 

Scott’s eyes open in order to see Mike watching him from directly above. Gives a glare when he realizes what happened. “You’re too warm, Michael.” 

The giant only offers a smirk. “Sorry. You were burning the shit out of Grave Digger’s hand, so it was my goddamn turn.” 

“I can take him.” 

The second voice causes Scott to sit up as fast as possible, panic welling up inside him when he sees Vincent standing a few feet away. “Vince, I-I was just-” 

“It’s okay, Scotty,” the purple man smiles. “Will’s not upset.” 

Truthfully, he wants to call bullshit on it. But it looks like the damage is already done. In more ways than one considering he’s apparently been passed around for everyone to hold. One glance toward his left and he spots Eggs attempting to throw Jeremy into a glass of water with Scott down for the count and Mike currently distracted. 

That’s when he lifts his arms toward his best friend. Grabs the nearest finger as he’s gently picked up. Can’t help but watch what was happening when he feels Vincent moving, sighing in relief when it was just to sit down at the table next to Mike. 

He slowly melts back down into the warmth that doesn’t make him feel suffocated. Turns into a puddle as a finger carefully rubs his back. 

“Go to sleep, Scotty.” 

Scott will be forcing every single one of them to promise to never speak of this again after scouring their phones to ensure there’s no blackmail. After his fever breaks. 

#sincerely I love the comments you give! #they just make my entire day better! #so thank you #for taking time out of your day to let me know you enjoy my stories #and especially taking the time to send over this ask #I hope you enjoy this thank you! #and don't ever hesitate to send over a request if you ever want to I would be honored to write it! #but you have a wonderful day #hope your week was a good one #and I'll see you later!! #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #ask #BTE writing #How To Care For Your Sick Scott #cw #content warning

[blametheeditor]

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

[blametheeditor]

just found you and I LOVE your work, but I wanna see what happens after ‘Terms of Agreement’ the cliffhanger is INSANE! IM GOIN NUTS RAAAAH

Welcome, Anon! I'm glad you've enjoyed your time so far, but you're so right I did leave you hanging!!

Forewarning, this is a rewrite! However, I have a whole plan I promise I will be following...and shouldn't take too long. But I hope you enjoy it, and that this is a good cliff-hanger-not-cliff-hanger-cross-my-heart-it'll-continue-soon!

Terms Of Agreement 2.0 | Chapter 1

Next

Run Down: The monster under your bed, the one in the closet, and your sleep paralysis demon fight for custody.

Content Warnings: Mentions of sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation. Mentions of death, murder, and accidental deaths. Mentions of treating others as lesser than, addressing someone as 'it'

Vincent deserved a bigger entrance

_______________________________

Fritz should’ve known better than to think tonight would be the one night he didn’t fall asleep or wake up to terror. 

“Wakey, wakey! You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” 

The all too familiar voice seems to make the very ground shake. Something that shouldn’t be possible, and he knows this is all in his mind. But it feels all too real. His eyes forced to open even as he desperately tries to keep them shut. 

His dark room greets him, with seemingly nothing out of place. Until his pupils expand, and his blanket becomes fingers longer than he is tall wrapped around his bed. One’s that squeeze, feeling like he’s going to get crushed. Unable to breathe properly. 

One night. I just wanted one night.

“You know what they say, Fritz,” the voice taunts. Laughs when all the trapped teenager can do is allow terrified tears to fall. Unable to move or speak. “Greif can make the mind all the more susceptible to such troubling things.” 

Fritz tries to get away. Close his eyes. Brace himself, anything. But the worst part about sleep paralysis is the fact it’s in control. 

An arm materializes within the darkness of his room. Shadows bending to form the rest of the giant who’s fingers are steadily increasing pressure until it seems like he might be forced into sleep once more. A smile longer than he is tall is stretched into a wicked grin that hovers too close for comfort, eyes larger than his head void of pupils yet it’s easy to tell he’s the center of attention. 

It’s terrifying. No matter how many times he’s greeted by this particular hallucination, Fritz fights tooth and nail to try to get away even though it isn’t real. His instincts only demand that he needs to get away by any means necessary, but he can’t run from his mind. And even if he could at the very least scream, there’d be no one who could come running. 

The monster sneers when he can’t so much as blink. “It’s adorable how terrified you are. Always entertaining. Always fascinating how much you fight.” 

The fingers finally loosen their grip, allowing Fritz to finally get a full breath of air. He feels his body wanting to choke on it, but his fear overrides the spasms, completely paralyzed and at the will of his own mind. The one that wants to rub it in his face no one, not even himself is on his side. 

Just get it over with...

“I thought we talked about this before, Fritz,” the giant tuts. “You’re the one who has to make the final decision.” 

At first the teenager feels genuinely confused. Despite the numerous doctor visits and consultations, he’s never be able to control his sleep paralysis. Too many variables that even if he stays on a strict sleep schedule, or sleeps in every position but his back, it seems like it will never go away. Nor can he influence how long he’s trapped in this awful limbo. It might be one minute, or five, or thirty. Not that it ever matters due to always feeling like it will never end. 

“Heavens you’re hopeless,” is said in a way that feels like it was meant to be fond, but he knows better. Remembers his worst mistake in trusting the hallucination didn’t mean to be malicious, right up until it kept him trapped in a nightmare as he begged to be freed. 

The giant suddenly gives him a pitiful look. “Do you remember what I said? That I could make all of this go away?” 

Fritz feels like he’s being squeezed again, but the fingers originally pinning him down have now completely left. No, this time it’s because he’s faced with the terrifying choice all over again but now with the main reason, arguably the only one for why he didn’t agree before gone. 

He tries to close his eyes and hide away. From the hallucination, from the world, wishing the darkness would swallow him whole so he doesn’t have to face the day that will be coming any minute now. His ‘big day’. 

Of course Fritz can’t close his eyes or turn his head. Only watch as the giant suddenly looks sympathetic. 

...what would happen if he agrees? Nothing really should happen, this entire interaction is due to his sleep paralysis. Even if it does feel like something else entirely is pulling the strings, this really is just his mind taking full advantage of his terror and stress. More than happy to add his grief into the mix. 

One that makes his throat close up at the thought of facing the hallucination before him all alone. Because footsteps won’t be racing to his room when he manages to get a scream out. Nor will warm arms appear to wrap around him when he sobs after it ends. No promise she’ll do everything in her power to make it all go away. He’s convinced his mom knows magic, never failing to make him forget about all of it before he’s going to school. 

...did. Did know magic. 

Fritz’s jaw sets when he realizes she also would’ve been upset he’d think about making a deal with his sleep paralysis. Would be genuinely disappointed he’d want to fraternize with the enemy. He shouldn’t trust something that has done nothing but terrorize him for most of his life. 

Maybe another time.

A twisted smile appears on the giant’s face. “I would say I admire you. But I’m afraid you’re going to genuinely regret declining my offer. Though it’s going to be quite entertaining seeing your reaction.” 

Fritz feels his heart beat wildly against his chest at what sounds like a promise. What did it mean by seeing his reaction? Why does he have a really bad feeling? 

Before he can try and think of an explanation, his room explodes with light, the redheaded teenager quickly shielding his eyes as he looks around his room. Sinks into his pillow with a song sigh at the hallucination not attempting to pull any tricks. Has to clench his jaw firmly shut to keep from yelling for his mom. 

Finally he glances toward his alarm clock declaring it’s 8am. A friend of his mom is supposed to come to the house to help him out with a few things at around 1pm. He had been excused from school today and was told to sleep in, but things had other plans. Certain giant hallucinations made out of shadows things to be exact. 

Fritz groans as he drags himself out of bed, wincing when he realizes he’s drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead in a proclamation it’s somehow even more of a mess than usual. He’s also pretty sure the bags under his eyes have become more and more noticeable over the past week. And considering the fact he didn’t go to sleep last night until 1am can give a good picture of how terrified he was sleeping the first night that he- 

Deep breath. One step at a time.

Shower. He should shower, and then go from there. 

Clean clothes are snatched out of his dresser with a narrowed look sent toward his closet before opening his bedroom door to walk down the hall to the bathroom. 

Except the moment he opened the door, a twisted familiar smile that’s as long as he is tall sits only a few feet away. 

“Well you certainly don’t mind keeping us waiting.” 

Fritz slams the door shut, pressing his back against it as his entire body trembles. It’s only a few seconds before he joins his clothes on the floor, his knees shaking so badly he can’t stay standing. 

He didn’t notice he wasn’t breathing until his chest constricts, choking as he forces himself to breathe just breathe this is a dream it has to be a dream this isn’t real. 

It feels real. So real Fritz can only wrap his arms around his knees as he curls into a ball, not bothering to wipe away the tears that fall. Tries to take deep breaths but continuously failing as his lungs refuse to take in more than short little gasps. 

What happened? Is it getting worse? He is hallucinating outside of his sleep paralysis? If it is, is he supposed to continue seeing the same giant who torments him consistently? Is he even awake right now? 

...is he awake? 

Fritz’s head snaps up to stare at his room. With sunlight streaming through his blinds. No obvious indication of the hazy feeling he gets when dreaming. And he’s not paralyzed. 

“You’re not dreaming, Fritz,” the voice that haunts him almost every night taunts through the door. Makes the air shake. “Come on out, we won’t bite.” 

We. There’s more giants? 

He doesn’t want to open the door and find out. But if he doesn’t, when will he be able to leave his room? When someone comes to rescue him? Is it possible to just wait it out? The knocking on his door says he can’t. Not when he could feel the wood bending from the sheer amount of force used. 

Fritz slowly stands back up, grabbing the handle to steady himself before tensing as he cracks his door opens. Stares at the colossal being watching him with amusement, head propped on a fist. 

That’s when he notices the fact the giant is lying on their side. Inside a hallway he’s memorized by heart. Yet the walls stretch so high above he can’t see through the sliver he opened. 

This can’t be real. 

“Cool trick, huh?” the giant rumbles with a smirk. Fritz can’t help but feel like he’s being watched like a new play thing. “We can manipulate the house to accommodate our natural forms while your bedroom remains untouched. And as soon as the front doors open, everything goes back to normal like nothing ever happened. Every human none the wiser unless they stay inside when the door closes again.” 

He latches onto a few things. The fact the possible hallucination is content to just talk to him for now. Prideful his legs are only mildly shaking. Fearful at the idea his home will tower over him without a way for he himself to reverse it. Terrified it’s constantly mentioned there’s other giants. 

When the giant doesn’t speak again, Fritz carefully opens his door a little more. Watches with held breath if a hand is going to lash out to grab him. Takes a moment to decide the amused smile is a good thing before slowly peering out into the hallway, his blood draining when it continues to stretch. Knowing the kitchen is only a few doors down, but he can’t even see the end before it becomes blurry. 

“Wh-Who are you?” 

This is the first time he’s ever been able to actually speak to the hallucination. Actually, it’s the first time he’s really been able to see it clearly. The white voids of eyes and uncanny smile are things he can identify without fail. But he hadn’t realized the recurring giant was actually a deep purple instead of just darkness itself. With long hair tied back into a ponytail. Wears a short sleeve button up that’s the same color purple as it is. 

“Vincent,” the hallucination responds. “Nice to properly meet you. Though I’m sure the same can’t be said for you.” 

No, it can’t be, but Fritz doesn’t say it out loud. “So this, this is real? You- there's o-others?” 

Vincent chuckles, a sound that sends a chill down his spine. “I have done quite the number on you, haven’t I?” 

He doesn’t know what that means, but he’s too scared to ask. He also can’t help ducking further into his room when the being sits up, causing an earthquake by the simple motion. Shaking his head at Vincent watching him with interest tens of feet above him. Feeling absolutely miniscule, inconsequential, wanting to run back into his bed and hide under the covers and never come back out. 

“You’re adorable,” the giant coos. “How about I introduce you to the others, and then we’ll let you have an existential crisis.” 

Fritz didn’t have enough time to realize what that meant before a hand is reaching toward him, one with fingers that have time and time again squeezed him without remorse. It’s enough to let his instincts take over, turning toward his bedroom as his hands grab for the door, intending to close it and never open it again. 

But he doesn’t make it. He feels suffocating heat at the same time something trips him. He can’t even scream as he falls against leathery skin, only tries to grab the handle just within reach when he’s lifted up, up, up, the ground falling away so quickly his stomach lurches and his head spins. Curls into a ball as he tries desperately to breathe and not panic as the fingers push him further into a palm five other people could join him on to effortlessly trap him inside a fist. 

Please don’t drop me! 

It’s the only coherent thought he can manage as he hugs himself. Flinching when he feels a jolt that rattles his very bones. Confused, and terrified, and gasping when his dark cage shakes rhythmically. Feeling like he was plunged into cold water at the realization those are Vincent’s footsteps. 

“Don’t go too overboard. He’s not taking it as well as I hoped.” 

Fritz isn’t able to ask what the giant holding him means, not when the fingers suddenly open. He’s blinded momentarily for the second time that day, blinking rapidly to try and figure out where he was taken, who was near him. 

He swears his heart stops at the sight of two other giants. Each staring at him with a mix of indifference and annoyance. As if one wasn’t enough. As if he deserved to be surrounded by beings who seem like they’d prefer him to be dead above all else. 

He doesn’t trust Vincent, not in the slightest. But Fritz couldn’t help grabbing the nearest finger as the hand tilts with the intent to slide him onto the counter. The very same counter he helped his mom prepare food for cooking on for numerous occasions, and yet is now bigger than a football field. Not wanting to face the fact this is real, and not wanting to be completely vulnerable in case the other two decide to just smash him like an unwanted pest. 

The thumb he clings to flexes in the attempt to dislodge him. He only closes his eyes as he holds on tighter, earning another chuckle from Vincent as a sigh comes from somewhere behind him. 

“Fritz, we are not allowed to harm you intentionally,” a voice he’s never heard before rumbles like thunder in the same way Vincent’s does. That and the wording used doesn’t do anything to quell the redhead’s fear. “We have an important matter to discuss, so we would appreciate it if you cooperated.” 

It sounds so...he wouldn’t call it reassuring, but it makes Fritz feel less like he’s about to be killed being addressed in such a way. He’s not safe, and he still has a really bad feeling, and tone makes it clear he isn’t thought of someone worthy to speak to. It lies more on the respectful side than taunting, though. 

He looks up to see Vincent give a look to say he’s waiting. Glances over his shoulder to see all three are still watching him. It’s enough to make his nerves get the best of him, his arms finally shaking so much he looses his grip. Yells as he slides onto the counter he jerks away from with how cold it is on his hands and feet. 

“It’s still dressed for sleeping,” a new voice pipes up. Fritz is hoping it’s the last one. 

“I wasn’t exactly able to warn him what kind of company to expect,” Vincent hums. “Not to mention I grabbed him right in the middle of his morning routine.” 

“Considering the circumstances, we can discuss what is expected of him moving forward and allow this to be forgiven.” 

Fritz stares up at the other two, finding himself actually looking at them now that he’s been promised a form of safety. He didn’t know what he expected after meeting Vincent, but these giants look much more human. The one who speaks with an air of superiority wears a full piece suit fitted with a blue tie, and even has pupils rather than a blank void for eyes. And the one who addressed him as ‘it’ wears a polo shirt, though with pitch black eyes. Both with normal complexions, short black and brown hair respectively. 

What are these three? 

“With that now out of the way, allow us to introduce ourselves.” The suited giant locks eyes with Fritz, making the hair on his neck stand on end. “We have been fighting over the rights to your soul from your tenth birthday up until now. The methods in which we were able to entice or forcibly take it depended on our respective abilites.” 

“Every competition over a soul has three competitors,” Vincent continues. “A sleep paralysis demon, a monster under your bed, and a monster in your closet.” 

The last giant gestures toward Vincent, Fritz tensing as it briefly casts a shadow over him, afraid it’ll turn into a grabbing hand. “The rules normally followed have strict guidelines. Due to the death of Marilyn Smith, the last attempt under the previous terms was conducted this morning. It failed, and now another agreement has been made.” 

Fritz is unable to find his voice as he looks between the three, unable and not wanting to accept what’s being said. Because they’re talking about children stories. Ones he once believed in when he was a lot younger before realizing that sleep paralysis was the real culprit. 

But they’re claiming his hallucination from sleep paralysis, Vincent, was an actual being. A demon who terrorized him every night rather than something his mind did on its own. And, if that’s the case... 

Fritz looks over at the twisted smile as he trembles. “I was so close too. But, you didn’t agree for letting me have your soul. So we’re now here, fighting over custody the civilized way.” 

The only being with pupils rolls them. “The term ‘custody’ is utilized by humans when two or more parties are wanting possession over something or someone. Considering it’s the most suitable way to describe this situation in terms you can understand, yes, we are fighting for custody.” 

“Unfortunately, you are 16,” is said in a monotone voice, and yet there’s a distinct feeling of anger that makes the teenager want to move farther away. “And that gives you the right to choose who gets your soul.” 

“Wh-What?” Fritz asks before he can stop himself. He almost lifts his arms up to defend against grabs from anger, but none of them are upset he might’ve interrupted their speech. They almost look just as surprised as he is. “What do you mean? I, I choose?” 

Vincent shrugs. “It’s only fair. We’ve been at each other’s throats for 6 years, yet no one has been able to kill the other. You’ve also consistently declined each of our offers, and that’s something to respect.” 

“Speak for yourself. I could have earned 2 souls in the time it’s taken us to get this far,” the suited giant growls, giving a look that makes it clear Fritz is nothing more than an annoyance. “I view this as a failure on our parts.” 

“Don’t mind David,” Vincent sneers. “He’s just upset he’s still stuck at 99 souls.” 

Fritz doesn’t know what that's supposed to mean. He doesn’t want to know. He wants to wake up and realize this was his worst vivid nightmare to ever have. He slept in, and his sleep paralysis took full advantage, and- 

“It’s hyperventilating.” 

“Him, James. How many times do we have to tell you?” 

“As many time as I have to say it’s still a soul no matter what form it takes.” 

“Oh you poor thing.” 

The last sentence is said in a way that doesn’t make him feel cared for but rather he’s an unwanted pet. But he can’t fight the hand that scoops him up. Not when he can’t take a full breath no matter how hard he tries, tears blurring his vision, afraid because he doesn’t know what they’re going to do to him. 

He then becomes absolutely confused when the grasp doesn’t confine him, but instead he’s just...held. It only gets worse when a finger carefully rubs his back and his first instinct is to lean into it. When he isn’t pinned, he tries to wipe his tears away, jerking back as a fingerprint as big as his head appears to brush his hair back. 

The redhead can’t help feeling suspicious from the gentle motions, but he doesn’t question Vincent’s smirk hovering a few feet away. “There you go. Can’t have you dying on us.” 

“Are you coddling him?” the voice he thinks is David’s demands. “There’s still more to discuss.” 

“I take it this is your first custody battle.” The hand lowers to Vincent’s chest, letting Fritz turn to see no one has moved from their spot, glares all turned to the demon holding him. “Humans are a bit fragile. They tend to die from the most random of things.” 

“I was under the impression it’s at an age where it can take care of itself.” 

“A full grown adult wouldn’t be able to handle this well. Give the kid some credit, I’ve had my share of humans who didn’t survive meeting one of us, none the less three.” 

David looks down at Fritz with a wide eye stare. “You’re saying we have to be careful with him?” 

Suddenly he doesn’t want to be put down again. Not when the two looking as if they just realized they’re catastrophic beings to him that could kill him with a single finger would be in arms length. Who could pick him up and accidentally squeeze too tightly...and that would be it. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Vincent grumbles. “We’ll talk about ensuring he isn’t sent to the angels later.” 

Fritz’s heart leaps into his throat as he’s lowered toward the counter again, this time the giant quick to move his thumb out of the way so it can’t be grabbed, leaving the redhead sliding off the warm hand without issues. Just like before, the cold counter has him folding into himself to keep himself from freezing, too distracted to try and ask about angels. 

Vincent then leans in to earn full attention. “This is how things are going to go down, Fritz. We are going to reside here with you until one of us is chosen to have claim over your soul. You’ll continue going to school, work, hanging out with friends. Just a normal human living a normal human life. However, whenever you are here, we will be offering deals and utilizing every tactic allowed to make you choose one of us. We can’t trick or coerce you, but we can certainly make your life absolutely miserable.” 

Fritz trembles as the demon’s smile grows wider and wider as he talks. Making it clear without a doubt he’ll be enjoying every second of this. 

“We will also have a schedule in which certain nights will be dedicated for one of us to use as we please without any limits on time except for the sun’s setting and rising,” David adds, looking smug at the horrified look, pleased at how absolutely terrified Fritz is at the thought of Vincent being able to put him under sleep paralysis for an entire night. 

“There should also be an expectation the entrance door will always remain closed,” the last demon, monster, James finishes. Fixes Fritz with a stare that feels like it’s pulling on his soul. “We are to be treated with respect. Any attempt to undermine us or the rules set in place will be met with significant consequences.” 

“Any questions?” 

Can I accept your offer from this morning?

Fritz’s entire body trembles. He wants to ask a question, say something, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. He can’t even nod or shake his head, only look down as he lifts his hands up. Stares at them shaking so much he wouldn’t be able to properly hold anything. He has a strong feeling his legs are just as bad. 

“Is that a bad sign?” 

“It really is fragile.” 

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room.” 

There’s warmth as purple fingers curl around him. He manages to look up at Vincent’s twisted smile, but the demon doesn’t coo at him or trap him inside a fist. He’s only carried out of the kitchen he grew up filled with utensils he and his mom picked out that are now twice his size. Back through the hallway that would have taken him several minutes to walk down instead of the 17 steps it’s taken only just last night. Unable to fully comprehend his door is exactly as it should be as well as the rest of his room. 

“We’ll talk more when you’re ready,” sounds like a threat. But Fritz can only stumble into his room before weekly shutting his door, crumbling to the ground as footsteps walking away cause it to tremble. 

He wants to do nothing more than to crawl into bed. Even if he could, though, he’d be too afraid to sleep. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#thank you so much for the ask! #don't tell anyone I completely forgot about this story despite all of the lore I have lined up #so thank you for reminding me!!!! #this will be added to the list to remember and continue #including ghosts because I need to continue the ghosts #but I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your day and week! #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Terms Of Agreement #BTE writing #cw #content warning