Finney

and maybe how that gets warped or ruined after he comes back from the basement...(whether due to his own guilt or their unfortunate resentment is upto you 🫡)

Well hot damn. 3.

i dont remember if ive posted this before but i live laugh love❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

(I was already writing this one when Miyo sent his so.)

You got your fluff, now read as Finney Blake’s memory slowly fails him more and more and he struggles to cope with it. And Ernesto is there for like 2 paragraphs.

—

“Sold out? How can they all be sold out?”

“They’re popular,” The cashier shrugs. “It’s a vintage collectible. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“It’s not a collectible. They’re dangerous. Are you just selling these to anyone?!”

“Uh, that’s kind of how a store works. Capitalistic society, free market, and all that crap.”

Wow it’s Miyo guys look it’s Miyo.

Yeah I can do that for ya.

Finn, for all his sleeping struggles, actually sleeps rather heavily whenever he gets the chance.

That does first mean he has to fall asleep at all, and then stay asleep for long enough without jolting awake when he swears he can feel it all again.

But he’s exhausted, always, and he conks out like a bear in hibernation when the night is merciful and the couch is warm.

And the couch is warm.

The credits of an old 50’s horror are still rolling, something random playing on a tv channel rather than a specially picked out tape. Light paints the small living room and the volume is on low.

Robin’s been out since the halfway point, not without claiming adamantly a few times that he was not tired and he was watching and Finn should hush up and focus on the movie. His head tipped back against the arm of the sofa and his arm wrapped loosing around Finn’s shoulders.

Finn lasted only maybe 20 minutes more before he too was asleep. Lulled almost peacefully to the feeling of Robin’s chest rising and falling below his head and heartbeat slowed under his ear.

Proof everything was alright. He always sleeps better when he can feel Robin under him.

María passes by exactly once, not wanting to interrupt, and puts one quilted blanket over the two of them. Carefully tucks Robin’s arm that had fallen over the couches side around Finn with the other and then tucks the blanket in too.

Robin gets a careful forehead kiss, and María diligently pushes Finn’s curls behind his ear because she doesn’t want to possibly disturb Finn or give him a nightmare with a kiss he doesn’t want and isn’t awake to stop.

The tv clicks off and leaves the living room dark. María heads to her own room in silence. Robin snores and Finn isn’t bothered by it.

photobashed al and finn #myversions. why?idont know..actually.. backs away slowly. hyper realistic pedophile and teen drug addict it's exactly what I was looking to see oh thank you finally

together

reference

im itching to talk lore again i have to start public posting more about this era of whatever is going on with them

ridiculous but I really love this ost from signalis and its genuinely menacing aura reminds me of them a lot . #mygame fucking kill me. I love my au where everyone is happy and likes it there😺😺👍👍(👎👎👎)

wip shots under cut

photobashed al and finn #myversions. why?idont know..actually.. backs away slowly. hyper realistic pedophile and teen drug addict it's exactly what I was looking to see oh thank you finally

together

reference

im itching to talk lore again i have to start public posting more about this era of whatever is going on with them

ridiculous but I really love this ost from signalis and its genuinely menacing aura reminds me of them a lot . #mygame fucking kill me. I love my au where everyone is happy and likes it there😺😺👍👍(👎👎👎)

wip shots under cut

He can’t breathe. Finn Blake cannot breathe under the hands that aren’t even there.

The sky melts above him and the stars go fuzzy, black creeps into the corners of his vision and in spots and he fights oh so hard.

He always fights, his knuckles have a perpetual ache in them from fighting. He’s never stopped fighting in his life.

The frozen lake is cold on his back, seeping through the warmth of his jacket and making his entire body go cold from his head to his fingertips.

He thinks he can hear Gwen shouting somewhere near, somewhere far from him. His ears ring louder and drowns her out. The phone rings in his head and the voices of 3 dead boys in the deep below scream at him that he can’t let the bastard claim another one.

He wishes he wasn’t so sluggish during this. Maybe he could’ve fought better. Maybe so much weed had been more of a disservice than he’d thought—maybe his father was a cautionary tale he didn’t listen too hard enough. His head aches from where he was slammed into ice.

The last thing Finn sees is the briefest glimpse of the mask that has haunted his nightmares, and he gasps one last attempted breath before everything goes dark.

Albert only lets go when the writhing stops. That’s always his least favorite part, when it’s finally over.

His hands slowly release, and he almost gently traces the leftover redness that he’s left on Finney Blake’s pale throat. He’s still warm there but everywhere else has grown cold.

The phone rings. He ignores it, he always ignores it.

“Night night, Finney.” He whispers into the boy’s ear.

Gwen shouts outside as police cruisers pull in front of the house, and even before they discover it’s a decoy and before they find the real one and before they find Finney and Albert and Max—she knows.

She can feel the exact moment where the air goes icey and her voice cracks before going out entirely. She can feel the weight of several boys fury on her shoulders without knowing who they were.

The police find Max bleeding out from an axe wound to the head, they take Albert out in custody, they find Finney.

Finney Blake will never leave that basement.

Gwen’s ears haven’t stopped ringing since she saw her brother be carried out of that house. Since she heard from the medical examiner about a concussion and malnutrition and the way his knuckles were blotched and red from hitting that fucking mask in his last moments.

Terrence only drinks more to cope with the loss of his son, and she tries to sleep as much as she can to see him again.

They only show her visions of a lake, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

@prosperousprophet I took some creative liberties (aka made up some bullshit) but I hope you like it. I’m in writers block but I needed some shit to write.

He can’t breathe. Finn Blake cannot breathe under the hands that aren’t even there.

The sky melts above him and the stars go fuzzy, black creeps into the corners of his vision and in spots and he fights oh so hard.

He always fights, his knuckles have a perpetual ache in them from fighting. He’s never stopped fighting in his life.

The frozen lake is cold on his back, seeping through the warmth of his jacket and making his entire body go cold from his head to his fingertips.

He thinks he can hear Gwen shouting somewhere near, somewhere far from him. His ears ring louder and drowns her out. The phone rings in his head and the voices of 3 dead boys in the deep below scream at him that he can’t let the bastard claim another one.

He wishes he wasn’t so sluggish during this. Maybe he could’ve fought better. Maybe so much weed had been more of a disservice than he’d thought—maybe his father was a cautionary tale he didn’t listen too hard enough. His head aches from where he was slammed into ice.

The last thing Finn sees is the briefest glimpse of the mask that has haunted his nightmares, and he gasps one last attempted breath before everything goes dark.

Albert only lets go when the writhing stops. That’s always his least favorite part, when it’s finally over.

His hands slowly release, and he almost gently traces the leftover redness that he’s left on Finney Blake’s pale throat. He’s still warm there but everywhere else has grown cold.

The phone rings. He ignores it, he always ignores it.

“Night night, Finney.” He whispers into the boy’s ear.

Gwen shouts outside as police cruisers pull in front of the house, and even before they discover it’s a decoy and before they find the real one and before they find Finney and Albert and Max—she knows.

She can feel the exact moment where the air goes icey and her voice cracks before going out entirely. She can feel the weight of several boys fury on her shoulders without knowing who they were.

The police find Max bleeding out from an axe wound to the head, they take Albert out in custody, they find Finney.

Finney Blake will never leave that basement.

Gwen’s ears haven’t stopped ringing since she saw her brother be carried out of that house. Since she heard from the medical examiner about a concussion and malnutrition and the way his knuckles were blotched and red from hitting that fucking mask in his last moments.

Terrence only drinks more to cope with the loss of his son, and she tries to sleep as much as she can to see him again.

They only show her visions of a lake, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

@prosperousprophet I took some creative liberties (aka made up some bullshit) but I hope you like it. I’m in writers block but I needed some shit to write.

He can’t breathe. Finn Blake cannot breathe under the hands that aren’t even there.

The sky melts above him and the stars go fuzzy, black creeps into the corners of his vision and in spots and he fights oh so hard.

He always fights, his knuckles have a perpetual ache in them from fighting. He’s never stopped fighting in his life.

The frozen lake is cold on his back, seeping through the warmth of his jacket and making his entire body go cold from his head to his fingertips.

He thinks he can hear Gwen shouting somewhere near, somewhere far from him. His ears ring louder and drowns her out. The phone rings in his head and the voices of 3 dead boys in the deep below scream at him that he can’t let the bastard claim another one.

He wishes he wasn’t so sluggish during this. Maybe he could’ve fought better. Maybe so much weed had been more of a disservice than he’d thought—maybe his father was a cautionary tale he didn’t listen too hard enough. His head aches from where he was slammed into ice.

The last thing Finn sees is the briefest glimpse of the mask that has haunted his nightmares, and he gasps one last attempted breath before everything goes dark.

Albert only lets go when the writhing stops. That’s always his least favorite part, when it’s finally over.

His hands slowly release, and he almost gently traces the leftover redness that he’s left on Finney Blake’s pale throat. He’s still warm there but everywhere else has grown cold.

The phone rings. He ignores it, he always ignores it.

“Night night, Finney.” He whispers into the boy’s ear.

Gwen shouts outside as police cruisers pull in front of the house, and even before they discover it’s a decoy and before they find the real one and before they find Finney and Albert and Max—she knows.

She can feel the exact moment where the air goes icey and her voice cracks before going out entirely. She can feel the weight of several boys fury on her shoulders without knowing who they were.

The police find Max bleeding out from an axe wound to the head, they take Albert out in custody, they find Finney.

Finney Blake will never leave that basement.

Gwen’s ears haven’t stopped ringing since she saw her brother be carried out of that house. Since she heard from the medical examiner about a concussion and malnutrition and the way his knuckles were blotched and red from hitting that fucking mask in his last moments.

Terrence only drinks more to cope with the loss of his son, and she tries to sleep as much as she can to see him again.

They only show her visions of a lake, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

@prosperousprophet I took some creative liberties (aka made up some bullshit) but I hope you like it. I’m in writers block but I needed some shit to write.

He can’t breathe. Finn Blake cannot breathe under the hands that aren’t even there.

The sky melts above him and the stars go fuzzy, black creeps into the corners of his vision and in spots and he fights oh so hard.

He always fights, his knuckles have a perpetual ache in them from fighting. He’s never stopped fighting in his life.

The frozen lake is cold on his back, seeping through the warmth of his jacket and making his entire body go cold from his head to his fingertips.

He thinks he can hear Gwen shouting somewhere near, somewhere far from him. His ears ring louder and drowns her out. The phone rings in his head and the voices of 3 dead boys in the deep below scream at him that he can’t let the bastard claim another one.

He wishes he wasn’t so sluggish during this. Maybe he could’ve fought better. Maybe so much weed had been more of a disservice than he’d thought—maybe his father was a cautionary tale he didn’t listen too hard enough. His head aches from where he was slammed into ice.

The last thing Finn sees is the briefest glimpse of the mask that has haunted his nightmares, and he gasps one last attempted breath before everything goes dark.

Albert only lets go when the writhing stops. That’s always his least favorite part, when it’s finally over.

His hands slowly release, and he almost gently traces the leftover redness that he’s left on Finney Blake’s pale throat. He’s still warm there but everywhere else has grown cold.

The phone rings. He ignores it, he always ignores it.

“Night night, Finney.” He whispers into the boy’s ear.

Gwen shouts outside as police cruisers pull in front of the house, and even before they discover it’s a decoy and before they find the real one and before they find Finney and Albert and Max—she knows.

She can feel the exact moment where the air goes icey and her voice cracks before going out entirely. She can feel the weight of several boys fury on her shoulders without knowing who they were.

The police find Max bleeding out from an axe wound to the head, they take Albert out in custody, they find Finney.

Finney Blake will never leave that basement.

Gwen’s ears haven’t stopped ringing since she saw her brother be carried out of that house. Since she heard from the medical examiner about a concussion and malnutrition and the way his knuckles were blotched and red from hitting that fucking mask in his last moments.

Terrence only drinks more to cope with the loss of his son, and she tries to sleep as much as she can to see him again.

They only show her visions of a lake, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

@prosperousprophet I took some creative liberties (aka made up some bullshit) but I hope you like it. I’m in writers block but I needed some shit to write.