Hour Until Midnight

ᴛʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴍᴇ ⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀ... ｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ to yearn is to love 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

[doomsday-dolly]

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˚₊‧꒰ა hello, angels ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ doom 〃 dolly 〃 turner ⋆˚࿔

𓏲ּ𝄢 he ᰍ she ᰍ they ᰍ it ⊹ . ݁˖ .

𐔌 . ⋮ just a bunny .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

𑣲. this blog is 16+ ‧₊˚

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˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𑣲. taglist:

ask if you wish to be added<3

[doomsday-dolly]

my favorite thing about my partner is that he feeds into my delusions

[doomsday-dolly]

Gentle

Oneshot: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader 18+ Post, MDNI

Warnings: Mentioned drinking, Mentioned Car Sex, Mentioned Drunken Sex ────────────────── Tags: Johnny "Soap" McTavish lives, Not beta-read, Second Person POV, Reader is originally from the States ────────────────── Chapter Word Count: 1.5k ────────────────── Description: Simon was a gentle man.

In bed, at least—or, actually, in an old, smoke-scented, Cadillac on drunken Friday night.

Your Lieutenant, Simon—Ghost—held himself to a standard to not drink at work, nor in front of his colleagues. No one can really control themselves when inebriated; and as much as he trusted himself, he wasn’t sure about the others. He also, much to the shock of many of the people around him—those who didn’t know his life, at least—wasn’t really even a drinker.

But, after a particularly stressful work week in which his team went on mission after mission, he desperately needed some relief. He just needed to wind down and take a breather; he deserved it. He was going to just light a cigar, of which he did regularly, and open a bottle. His captain had other plans though; Price, in order to let his team relax, hosted a small party with drinks in a private booth at a karaoke bar near the base. Ghost knew it was a bad idea, “work” parties never stay work parties for long...

When Ghost arrived, most of his colleagues were already at least a couple drinks in, but he tried not to judge, especially when Soap pushed a tall, large glass of bourbon into his hands. He tried to hold strong, slowly nursing his drink, watching everyone else take turns singing. Outside the small window on the back wall, he could see the light of the day slowly fade into a seeping darkness of night. That’s when he let himself really loosen up. It started with one drink… then another, and another. He didn’t mean to drink so much, but his mind escaped him in the moment.

Ghost only truly realized how drunk he was when he found himself flirting with someone else on the team. He was always a smooth talker, but never flirty—he kept his romantic life far, far away from work. But, there he was, getting handy, leaning close, laughing at jokes he didn’t think were funny… He forced himself out of the booth to go get fresh air, but he never made it outside.

You had stopped him before he got to the door, and his throat tightened. Of all the people that could have followed him, you were the one person he didn’t want. You had been his favorite thing to stare as of recent. He had rationalized it in that staring never hurt anyone. It surely never hurt him to stare. But, talking might…

He couldn’t tell you off when you leaned closer than you should have—to “check up” on him. He couldn’t not listen when you cooed your less the subtle advances towards him. He couldn’t help but love how your hands rested on his chest just so delicately… And, worst of all, he couldn’t stop his hands when he slid them around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

The next couple hours only got blurrier—he isn’t quite sure how the two of you got in his Cadillac all the way outside, nor how no one saw you slip away; they were all probably too drunk to notice. He does, however, remember the feeling of your hands roughly grabbing onto the fabrics of his clothes. He does remember how you pulled off his mask and crashed your lips into his in a sloppy, passionate kiss. He remembers how he let you, encouraged you even, as he grabbed onto any part of you he could.

He remembers your gasps, your moans, the sounds of your breath tangling with his, the movement of your bodies warming the cold car. He remembers stumbling out of the car, pulling his mask back on, and sneaking into the booth hoping no one saw the two of you and decided to be nosy…

Finally, he remembers how he immediately knew how desperately he had fucked up.

──────────────────

And now, you’re both sitting in a meeting over a less than important issue, trying not to steal glances at each other because every time your eyes meet, the tension between you grows stronger. Every one else is focusing on whatever Laswell is saying; normally you would be too, but it had only been two days since the party—and you can’t get the taste of your Lieutenant out of my mind or your mouth.

You know he’s thinking about it too. By the way he’s been bouncing his leg under the table, idly playing with the pen that was once abandoned on the table before he grabbed it just to have something to do with his hands.

You also know that your fellow soldiers were beginning to notice the tension. Not between the two of you; but Ghost was typically calm, collected, not fidgety and absentminded. They occasionally glance back at him as he stares quietly ahead, brows furrowed and shoulders tense.

“You’re all dismissed.” Laswell speaks, turning to power off the board behind her.

As she speaks, Ghost immediately stands up, not aggressively, but still swift. He walks out of the room, discarding the pen once more; you stare at it for a second.

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Gaz asks, his voice the typical smooth tone it always was. The two of you walk out from the conference room and towards the mess hall for lunch.

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

You know exactly why.

Gaz looks over to you; you try to keep a poker face—something you are horrible at—as he reads over your expression—which he is wonderful at. It’s always made you mad how good he is at reading people, it was just a talent he seems to naturally have, especially with you. As if the gods themselves decided to make your life as hard as possible

“You know something.” He says, and you can’t keep your face from flushing horribly, “You did something.” he continues with an obvious smile, one that makes your stomach twist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mutter, pushing the doors open to the mess hall. You avoid his gaze; can he please stop staring at you like that??

“What did you do…??” He whispers, nudging against you. “Did you say something stupid? Weird? Did he take off his mask and you caught him?”

“Stop.” You mutter, thinking back to when you pulled his mask off when you were pushed up against him, about to disgrace—

“Yankee?” Gaz snaps you out of your trance and you look up at him. The warm blush that spreads across your cheeks made him just knowsomething happened. “You did it, didn’t you?” He grins, and you feel like a fly caught in a trap.

“Stop it, Garrick.” You glare at him, but he’s already too entertained. Damn bastard…

“Took him forever to show us? How’d you do it?” He thinks back to that night, and as he slows down, you hurry off the grab your food. You feel your heart slow for just a moment, and doesn’t take long for him to notice and rush back towards to you.

“Come on, you can’t just not tell me?” He asks, continuing to trail you as you walked over a table in the corner.

You sit down with a sigh, “Gaz, I swear to god.” You say as you open a water bottle, beginning to take a sip to try and wet your throat.

“Does it have something to do with when you both disappeared for about two hours?” You choke, water coming out the sides of your mouth. You cough slightly, trying to recover as Gaz stares at you with a grin.

“What??” You ask, staring at him, trying to regain your bearings. “You noticed?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. When you realize your mistake, though, he’s already speaking again.

“Me and Soap.” Gaz smiles, and you can only sink down in your seat, feeling a wave of embarrassment and shame wash over you. “You have to tell me what happened now.” You can help but bury your head in your hands.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

You take a short, controlled breath as you try to speak, despite your embarrassment. “We were drunk. None of it matters and you need—“

Gaz cuts you off before you can finish, leaning close, “Yankee did you shag our lieutenant.”

“Kyle!” You yell, making a few people glance over, but no one really keeps paying attention. “How could,” You stop, sputtering over your words, “I cannot believe you—how could you even begin to insinuate…” You trail off and try to force the blush you had off your cheeks. When you realize you can’t, you just cover your face.

“That’s actually crazy.” Gaz grins, and you frown at him. “I won’t say anything about it, Yankee.”

You look away, you don’t now how or respond. You only know Ghost is going to kill you when he finds out you unintentionally basically told Gaz… Wonderful.

“I hate you.” You mumble as you take a bite of whatever bland food you had grabbed…

“So, was he, you know,” he clears his throat, still grinning, “good, though?”

“Gaz!”

“What!?”

taglist: [empty] ──────────────────

a/n: would anyone be interested in a prequel...? it's been gnawing at me to write it...

[doomsday-dolly]

Always Come Back (to Me)

Chapter Two: Creepy Crawlies Springtrap/GN!Minimun-wage worker!Reader

Warnings: Eventual Smut, Smoking, Drinking, Arson, Lots of Crime, Lack of Communication ────────────────── Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Animatronics are furries, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, William Afton is not Sprintrap ────────────────── Chapter Word Count: 1.5k (tis the intro) ────────────────── Description: ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ! ꜰᴀᴢʙᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ!

We all remember Freddy Fazbear’s Diner! The tragedy! It seems the bad karma has caught up with the franchise once more! A new local attraction based on the ancient pizzeria chain burned down overnight. The fire department has just finished as of noon.

Based on the statement the local police issued, authorities have not ruled out foul play; but at the moment it seems to have been caused by faulty wiring… However, was it really? Or was this a strategic act on the location? Is the franchise truly haunted? Police chief, Larry Beardings says, “I think we oughta have known it was gon’ happen sooner or later. The place was falling apart far before it even opened doors. It was bound to happen.”

Very little was found at the scene once the fire department cleared it for search. The few items that were salvaged will be sold at public auction. Some antique collectors seek to have the old, supposedly haunted attractions, but most people consider it junk.

---

That’s crazy… Now I have to see it.

Your funeral When you die, it isn’t my fault…

Coward.

──────── Chapter Synopsis: You decide to break in to the burnt down Frights to find more about the "accidental" fire, and nothing goes wrong... (Lie.) ────────

This is such a bad idea.

Yeah, probably But, like, when have I ever made a good idea?

I hate you Just, please, don’t die I need someone to cover me next Tuesday

Trust, I’ll be fine

You close your phone, sipping your coffee, and look up at the street. It’s early, only just barely past dawn. You’re sitting outside the all-hours coffee shop; it’s the best place in the town. Really the only good place. The town is still sleepy, no one is really out and about aside from cars of those who are going to their early morning shifts. You did not want to wake up this early on your day off, but here you are. Can you be blamed? It’s every urban explorers dream: a horror attraction—based off a franchise so core to their childhood—burning to the ground under mysterious circumstances in their own home town… Uhm, okay—fine, maybe it’s only your dream. That doesn't make it any less exciting, though. It does mean no one will be poking around to see you doing the same thing.

You remember going to Freddy’s when you were younger. You think there was a diner, it was actually the original, but you only ever went to the sister location that they had. You can’t remember very much of the establishment anymore; it's mostly vague tunes of retro music and too-cheesy slices of pizza all paired with the sounds of cheering and laughing. The animatronics always freaked you out, their dead eyes, stiff movements, uncanny voice... ugh, it still makes you shiver. You vividly remember when the mascots replaced them; it was a welcomed change. Their first appearance was at the grand re-opening of Freddy’s; any revenue they had lost over the years from the magic seeming less so was blown out of the water. The mascots looked amazing. Maybe they only looked that way to you because you were so young, but you swear it wasn't that. They looked like cartoons come to life, as if they’d walked straight out of the tv. You wonder if they were some type of fursuit? They performed all day, any person in them would need at least a few breaks; so surely not? Maybe they just got better materials and endoskeletons for them. They certainly had to be better, though.

That is one reason you’re so excited to snoop around, though. Oh, it’s’ thrilling, the idea of finding some of the old parts left behind. Too broken for the fancy collectors, but still in well enough shape for the underground scene you’re in…

You stand up, tossing your cup in the recycling bin before walking down the side walk. The sun is rising slightly more now, so you want to hurry and get to the sight. It doesn’t take you long, either because of the excitement in your veins or the caffeine—probably both, honestly. You stare at the attraction past the chainlink gates. Caution tape and no entry signs are placed everywhere. Wanna know what’s not placed anywhere, though? Cameras. You walk around the side of the property, looking for any weak links in the fence. You eventually spot a decently large chunk of fence bent up off the ground, probably from animals digging under it. Jackpot. You slide your backpack under the hole then squeeze yourself through the space as well. Your shirt catches and almost tears, but you wriggle free from the free metal. Pushing yourself off the ground and grabbing your bag, you look to the attraction, closer now. You’re at the side, near the back. There’s a door labeled “Employees only” on the ground beside a boarded up opening.

You walk up to the doorway and look at the boards; they’re only lightly nailed in, but you didn’t bring any tools. You do notice, however, the boards at the bottom are just laid against the doorway instead. Pulling on your gloves, you drag the boards to the side one by one, letting them rest against the wall. You duck under the remaining wood and step into the attraction. Your step rouses ash and dust to float around. You cough and wave a hand in front of your face; you probably should have guessed there would still be plenty burnt remains of the building still sitting inside. From your bag, you grab your face mask. It’s nothing too fancy, just a plastic one with a small ventilator, but it works. It’s hella uncomfortable, though.

Before stepping any further into darkness, you point your flashlight into the dark, watching it flicker to life. The ceiling is fallen in at places, enough where small streams of light trickle through. No hole is big enough to let you look around without a light, though. It's made worse because everything is covered in a thick layer of ash—it's good you put on the mask. You look around the entrance, feeling the ash squish under your boots. There are a few posters that still hang all the wall, albeit covered in soot; they're a mix of Advertisements for Freddy's during their animatronic era, spooky drawing that you think are made to look like kids drawings, and a few photos of the old pizzeria. You use your phone to take pictures of the posters that interest you, but you don't you could bring any of them home. They're far too messed up to restore with just what you have at home.

You stop in front of one set of decorations hanging on the wall. You lean closer, gently lifting one of the posters off of the wall. It reads "Entertain!" The odd part is the character, it's a drawn character that you don't recognize. You remember Bonnie vividly—he freaked you out even after the mascots started performing. The character looks similar to Bonnie, but still different; he's a warm yellow with bright green eyes instead of red. He's also holding a banjo rather than Bonnie's normal guitar. You look at the other hanging posters, which are actually more photos. You certainly can't recall each, or probably any, room in the old pizzeria; but you know you don't recognize any of these places. They look like they're from a smaller, more quaint location. You realize it's probably the diner. Did the diner have different characters?

You hum, letting the advert slip from your hand and continue walking down the halls. The deeper you get into the attraction, the more sooty things seem to get, as well with more expensive looking. You realize that the firefighters probably decided it wasn't safe enough to wander this deep inside. One well example of expensive things still sitting inside are a few arcade machines. You let out a whistle, leaning to read the sides. You recognize a few of them; Foxy Fighters, Chica's Feeding Frenzy, Freddy's Pizza Chase. Damn, these things are old. You almost consider taking one, they'd sell for a shit ton of money even in their broken state, but you have no idea how you would haul it out of here. You move on, looking at fallen decorations and shining your light into empty vents. Eventually, you make it to a hall with a large window; dust and ash have settled over the glass, so you can’t see through it, but walking through the doorway near it reveals an office. Entering the room and even just taking a quick glance around, you notice something very quickly. It looks, by far, the worst. You turn your flashlight off because the roof is broken in enough the morning sun brings in a considerable amount of light.

You notice an old box of items; the box itself is scorched, but a few of the items inside look fine. You gently pick up the burnt metal scrap and take it out, looking through what survived. It looks like old animatronic parts. They must be beyond old, you don’t even recognize some of the characters. You pick up a mask. It looks like it was once white, but the ash has smudged it grey. There are dark blue—or purple, you can’t really tell—streaks that trail from each eye of the mask. The freakiest part are the completely black eyes and mouth. What kind of kid would like this? If you had seen this at Freddy's when you were younger, you would have never healed. You shove the mask in your bag and walk over to the desk. The chair beside it is completely decimated, the plastic melted beyond recognition. You look around, finding a small black, bonnie-looking figure and taking it, too.

You don’t seem to spot any thing else, until the light catches something under the desk. You squat down, noticing that the something is actually multiple somethings; they’re papers, dozens of them. Most of them are scorched beyond belief, leaving only ash and small scraps. A few are still in tact just enough for you to make out that they’re records of some kind, but you can’t tell for what… Most of the words that could have been read on the paper are blacked out with marker any way… You narrow your eyes, ruffling through the remains. Pushing past and thick heap of ashes, you uncover a small red box. You know immediately what it is. “What the hell,” you whisper, leaning on your knees to grab it—a matchbox. You push it open; it’s almost completely full, only missing maybe one or two. You rummage around to try and find a match, but can’t in the mess of burnt papers. Papers, you think. What are the chances that someone, not only, accidentally left a ton of redacted records laying around, but also manages to leave an almost full matchbox laying under the incredibly flammable material in a place that's so clearly not safe. The police ruled it an accident, it was likely faulty wiring; but this changes things. Did… no way, why would someone? Did someone set this place on fire by choice? There’s no way that this is by chance. The damage is the worst here; the fire was likely started here, then spread out to the rest of the building. And—and—the papers. They’re not just random papers, they're records, what if someone was trying to destroy something?

The matchbox slips from your grasp when you hear a loud thud. Your whole body tenses, and your breath stops in your throat. The air seems even more stagnant, and you don’t dare move. Dust floats around you, disturbed from your movement. You can hear your heart beating, even it seems too loud. Another thud, and another. It sounds like footsteps; heavy footsteps; heavy, you wouldn't win in a fight footsteps. Oh no, oh shit. You quickly push off the ground, slipping slightly on the ash. You catch yourself on the desk, suddenly breathing hard. Using the corner to propel your movement, you tumble out of the office and rush towards the exit. You remember seeing it just outside the office. You get to it as the steps get closer you. You’re totally getting arrested—or shot—or both! You push on the door, shoving it hard, the metal around it has warped from the heat.

“Dammit!” You hiss as you take a couple steps back, seeing shadows move in the distance behind you. You just got your shoulder to stop hurting from a workplace accident, but you have no other choice. This is why Ben doesn't like you going place. The footsteps draw near and you don't dwell any longer. You run at the door, throwing yourself at it with a loud clang of metal and your body.

The door swings open, sending you flying towards the ground. You hit your head, and your mask cracks and falls off your face. You whisper expletives, holding your head as you try to ground yourself; under your fingers, you feel the hot liquid of blood oozing from a cut. Shit. You slowly push yourself off the concrete, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes flick around aimlessly before they reach the doorway, and your heart drops to your stomach. You see a shadow of a person, stumbling towards the light. You can’t make out much of them, but you notice two things very quickly. They’re large, bending over in the hall. What's worse? Their eyes; they glow a deep, cool purple. It sends a shiver down your spine. Are they wearing a mask—what kind of mask does something like that? No time to wonder.

You lung off the ground, leaving your mask behind as you bolt back the gate, not bothering to find the gap. You climb it quickly, feet hitting the ground hard. You pant, out of breath from running and partial fear. When you spot a few people staring, you continue to book it down the street, legs aching as you try to get to your house. While you don’t think the person inside was an officer, you really don’t want to get arrested for trespassing. The last thing you need is to be sent to the police station.

────────────────── ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ⚠︎.’ 08:05 am .’⚠︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ──────────────────

You thought you would’ve caught your breath by now, but you haven’t.

It’s been a couple hours since you got home. You've showered, meaning you stood under the steaming water until your skin hurt and the water turned cold. You cleaned up the cut on your face—and the others you didn't even notice you got until now. Currently, you're sitting at the kitchen table, drinking another cup of coffee (it’s your third, actually), and trying to calm down. Yes, you know that caffeine is not going to help you calm down. You don’t care! You need this right now.

The reason you can’t calm down was the person in Frights. You’ve met ungodly tall people before; so that startled you, but didn’t stick. However… there’s something about those eyes that have stuck with you. They were deep and sinister and you swear you could feel a wave of unbearable nausea when your eyes met theirs. You were telling yourself that they were from a mask, like night vision goggles or those weird LED eye visors, but they weren’t. You know they weren’t. You saw their pupils, the red strain of tired eyes. The faint twitching.

A buzz from your phone sends you back into fight or flight before to tell yourself that you’re fine. You’re fine. You are perfectly fine.

I haven’t seen any arrest records yet?

You sigh, remembering what it was that you had forgotten to do. You send back a quick message, Yeah, no I’m fine, and another, Found some goodies! You send Ben some pictures that you snapped along with a new picture of the weird Bonnie figure you took. You don’t show him the mask yet, you want to clean it up more. He hearts the photos, and you turn off your phone.

Despite the sheer amount of caffeine and anxiety in your system, you feel beyond tired. Scratch that, actually; you think you’ve looped around from being so energized and in a state of panic to now being burnt out from it and crashing. You desperately need a nap, and you’re hoping you won’t see those eyes in your nightmares. You honestly don’t think your heart could take that right now…

You just know you won't get that luxury, though.

taglist: [empty] ──────────────────

a/n: god I love my wife, more of him on friday

[i-am-a-fish]

whose dumb ass idiot fuck idea was it to make medicine cost money

[doomsday-dolly]

noooo don't push me up against a wall... nooo don't bite at my neck and push my head back... noooo I would just hate it if you sank your teeth into me and let the blood run down my chest

[doomsday-dolly]

Always Come Back (to Me)

Chapter One: It Burns! Fazbears Frights Burns to the Ground! Springtrap/GN!Minimun-wage worker!Reader

Warnings: Eventual Smut, Smoking, Drinking, Arson, Lots of Crime, Lack of Communication ────────────────── Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Animatronics are furries, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, William Afton is not Sprintrap ────────────────── Chapter Word Count: 1.5k (tis the intro) ────────────────── Description: ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ! ꜰᴀᴢʙᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ!

We all remember Freddy Fazbear’s Diner! The tragedy! It seems the bad karma has caught up with the franchise once more! A new local attraction based on the ancient pizzeria chain burned down overnight. The fire department has just finished as of noon.

Based on the statement the local police issued, authorities have not ruled out foul play; but at the moment it seems to have been caused by faulty wiring… However, was it really? Or was this a strategic act on the location? Is the franchise truly haunted? Police chief, Larry Beardings says, “I think we oughta have known it was gon’ happen sooner or later. The place was falling apart far before it even opened doors. It was bound to happen.”

Very little was found at the scene once the fire department cleared it for search. The few items that were salvaged will be sold at public auction. Some antique collectors seek to have the old, supposedly haunted attractions, but most people consider it junk.

---

That’s crazy… Now I have to see it.

Your funeral When you die, it isn’t my fault…

Coward.

──────── Chapter Synopsis: Your friend sends you a news article that you find very interesting; of course, you need to go snoop around.

Your head is throbbing—bad. You don’t think you ask for much in life. Bills to be paid, food on the table, clothes on your back. For some reason, though, life has decided to specifically fuck you over because in some past life you made a mistake. Or, something like that, you assume. Today has been nothing but a shitshow, and you can’t wait to get home. Want to run down the list? You woke up late and didn’t have time to shave when you were going to, missed the morning bus so you had to walk in the rain, then your boss had the audacity—the dick—to complain at you for not closing properly night before last (which wasn’t your job to begin with), customers whined all day and you just had to keep fighting with them; and now, to top that amazing day off, you’re standing here—tired and cold because the bus is late. You can only muster a sigh when the bus pulls up. You and the few others around you climb onto the bus—paying the exorbitant new toll, by the way—and finding a seat. You fall down into one of the empty ones, leaning your head against the window. You plug your earbuds in, turning up your chosen song as you try to dissociate and relax for just a moment. The road is bumpy, and your head vibrates against the window; you don’t really mind, though. You’re used to it by now. It’s almost how the bustle of the store turns to white noise after so long. You wonder if it’s like that for everything. Cars and planes and yelling from houses over and sirens, you’r used to them by now. Humans have made their mark on you. You can’t help but wonder, though, if you were to run away out into the woods, if the animal would too go silent. You can imagine yourself, no shoes, walking out into the brush, forgetting normal life. But, everyone yearns for that at least occasionally, right? It’s human to want to just disappear for a small time, at least.

Your phone buzzes. You drag your eyes open and look down, it’s Ben. Have you seen this!? Attached is a news link; you raise a brow and look at the post.

────────────────── ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ⚠︎.’ 06:47 pm .’⚠︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ──────────────────

ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ! ꜰᴀᴢʙᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ! We all remember Freddy Fazbear’s Diner! The tragedy! It seems the bad karma has caught up with the franchise once more! A new local attraction based on the ancient pizzeria chain burned down overnight. The fire department has just finished as of noon.

Based on the statement the local police issued, authorities have not ruled out foul play; but at the moment it seems to have been caused by faulty wiring… However, was it really? Or was this a strategic act on the location? Is the franchise truly haunted? Police chief, Larry Beardings says, “I think we oughta have known it was gon’ happen sooner or later. The place was falling apart far before it even opened doors. It was bound to happen.”

Very little was found at the scene once the fire department cleared it for search. The few items that were salvaged will be sold at public auction. Some antique collectors seek to have the old, supposedly haunted attractions, but most people consider it junk.

────────────────── ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ⚠︎.’ 06:49 pm .’⚠︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ──────────────────

Your thumb hovers over the article for a moment, thinking. You could wait for the authorities to clean it out, make sure it’s safe, and pay for the antiques. Or… You close off the article without reading the rest of it, and move back to your chat with Ben, That’s crazy… you send him, You think it was actually on accident? He sends back a shrug emoji and you turn your phone off, seeing the next bus stop pull up.

You push off the seat, grabbing your bag and walking off of the bus. Looking down at your phone, you send another message. Now I have to see it.You don’t wait for a response before you shove your phone in your pocket. You see your small house in view, letting your shoulders slink down when you see it. Finally, you think. The day had been far too long, and now you’re very ready to go change out of your uniform, stuck to your skin in parts from sweat.

You get to your house, unlocking your front door, and slide inside. You don’t waste time stripping and taking a quick shower. Your favorite part of the day was getting home and washing off the grime that had built up on your body throughout the day. It is simply the best.  After, you pull out your phone to see Ben’s response, Your funeral. and another, When you die, it isn’t my fault… You smile and roll your eyes, knowing he never has faith in your abilities. Coward.

────────────────── ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ⚠︎.’ 07:02 pm .’⚠︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ──────────────────

Your feet easily take you to Fazbear Frights remains; you had passed it dozens of times on your walking route, so you didn’t hesitate and wonder where it was; and where it was, indeed. The building is still technically there, but it’s charred beyond belief. The walls are black, the ceiling fallen in at parts, and a thick smoke still wafts from the building. Around, police officers and firefighters talk, looking around for legal help stuff, probably. You walk up as close as you can before getting stopped by the tape. You need to get in there… Something about you, is that you cannot help yourself, not when it comes to exploring places you know you shouldn’t be. You’ve always been nosy, it’s just tart of you. Even when you could be putting yourself into danger, you run head first into the situation. You walk up to one of the officers near the tape, waving, “Hi!” She looks over, looking you up and down, “I just wanted to ask,” “We’re not talking to any more journalists.” She cuts you off before you can finish and you pause—do you look like a journalist? “Oh, no, I’m just a citizen.” You try to correct, but her eyes bore into you like hot coals. “I was just curious. I saw the article from,” She raises a hand, “I told you, no more comments.” She walks off and you frown. How kind of her… Police were never helpful when you needed them—or ever really. All they did was arrest you for trespassing then let you go a few hours later because you’re very careful not to go on still-standing, private property.

You huff, folding your arms. If nothing else, you are incredibly stubborn. So, you scan the scene once more. Your eyes land on a firefighter, ducking under the tape and walking back to the truck. He’s tall and lean, and looks young. Loose-lipped. You grin, bingo! You quickly walk over to him, trying to catch him before he leaves.

“Excuse me,” You clear your throat, catching his attention. His hair is dark and curly and he looks probably younger than you. “I’m not a reporter, but,” you say quickly, talking quickly as to not be cut off, “I was curious. What happened? I saw the article, that authorities think it could be a wiring problem.” He glances towards the burnt attraction then back to you.

“I mean,” He shrugs, his shoulders slumped over, “I grew up around mechanics, and that ain’t no electrical fire, I’ll say for sure.” “You think it was foul play?” You say a little too quickly, you can’t help it. You’re excited. The firefighters throws up his hands, “I’m not saying that,” he drops his hands and shakes his head, “but I’m saying it ain’t normal by any means.” “Hm, thank you!“ You thank him, letting him climb into his van and walking back to the tape to stare. You’re not the only one staring. A few from across the street, some near you—some are definitely reporters, though. You think to yourself; you’re certainly not making it into there tonight, but maybe another time. The thought trails you all the way back home. You wonder how long they’ll dawdle there, snooping around for clues. The easiest answer, electrical fire, is probably right. That place was old as balls, and all the old items they dragged in there for authenticates sake did not help. The police chief is right, it was a disaster waiting to happen. On all accounts, you shouldn’t care to explore the moment they disappear, but something still eats at you. He may be wrong; that firefighter seemed pretty certain it wasn’t just electrical failure. If not that, then what? Why lie about it? The idea of snooping around a real crime scene worries you. What if you ruin something? Then again, you think, any evidence is surely gone by now; and, chances are, that it really did just combust. They had open wires hanging around, for God’s sake. What else did they need as a bad omen? You decide you will snoop, even if only for a bit. But, first, you need sleep, and they need to get out of the area. You don’t want the authorities around when you’re snooping around. It’s happened before and is not good on your part; honestly, you’re baffled you haven’t been arrested just yet… Here’s to hoping for smooth sailing.

taglist: [empty]

[doomsday-dolly]

getting squished between two guys as they both try to keep me to himself mnnnghhhh

[doomsday-dolly]

hey so what if we beat the shit out of each other then make out while still covered in the sweat and blood

no oh okay...

[doomsday-dolly]

Fandoms

i haven't made master lists for each individual fandom and their works, so if you're curious about a specific character, ask! i'll have a definitive list when I'm finished doing those all<3

all fandoms i'm in

୭˚. ᵎᵎ creepypasta ୭˚. ᵎᵎ call of duty (mw reboot & ghosts) ୭˚. ᵎᵎ danganronpa (trigger happy havoc & goodbye despair) ୭˚. ᵎᵎ five night's at freddy's (1-4 & occasionally security breach) ୭˚. ᵎᵎ sally face ୭˚. ᵎᵎ stardew valley ୭˚. ᵎᵎ the amazing digital circus

open

୭˚. ᵎᵎ creepypasta ୭˚. ᵎᵎ call of duty ୭˚. ᵎᵎ five night's at freddy's (1-4 & occasionally security breach) ୭˚. ᵎᵎ sally face

Just a reminder, I am a college student, that means updates likely will not be very often, but I'll try my best for you<3

[doomsday-dolly]

Request Rules

request in my ask box. if i have not yet answered it, assume i haven't gotten to it yet. i also may just not do one, if i do not want to, i'll likely still answer with what is preventing be from doing so. if you're willing to work with me, then i may change my mind.

if something isn't listed, ask! i don't bite... unless you ask for me to, of course<3

my fandoms are here

Will

𑣲⋆ headcanons 𑣲⋆ canon/canon (includes polyamorous ships) 𑣲⋆ canon/reader 𑣲⋆ short Imagines 𑣲⋆socmed au prompts 𑣲⋆ themed Incorrect quotes 𑣲⋆ suggestive themes 𑣲⋆ smutshots- however these posts will be 18+ and tagged as such, do not request them as a minor 𑣲⋆ violence 𑣲⋆ age-gap (With both adults 25+) 𑣲⋆ toxic relationships

Will Not

ꉂ`𖦹. oc/canon ꉂ`𖦹. pwp ꉂ`𖦹. hyperspecific reader descriptions ꉂ`𖦹. pregnancy ꉂ`𖦹. noncon/cnc ꉂ`𖦹. incest of any form ꉂ`𖦹. pedophilia ꉂ`𖦹. beastiality ꉂ`𖦹. necrophilia ꉂ`𖦹. anything that includes bodily fluids of a specific genre... you know what i mean... ꉂ`𖦹. ddlg

these are not debatable. i'm generally lenient with my writing, but i am not comfortable with these topics.