GUYS BE WARNED THIS CONTAINS OLD GACHA LIFE WILLIAM AFTON, WARRIOR CATS, WINGS OF FIRE CHARACTERS, AND SOME RANDOM FNAF LORE I’M SO SORRY—

( let’s just pretend we casually drop into one of those gacha life rooms that are like ‘ william aftons fangirls are stuck in a room with him for 24 hours!!🥲🥲)

( P.S. If you dont understand any of these topics just scroll :’) )

I sat on the floor, confused, and most of all, excited. These characters were so familiar, so nostalgic. Some already knew of me, due to how I had written about most in the past.. Yet a few characters stood out to me, approaching me, even.

“ You made excellent stories about my clan.” Came the voice of Firestar, the Thunderclan leader. I remembered him almsot immediately. I remember writing such things about him, finding his life fascinating, his actions more intriguing. More cats began to walk towards me. Graystripe, Jay Feather quickest.. yet one stood next to Firestar. Squirrelfight. The one I had admired for the longest time. I paid my respects to both, bowing, and feeling my heartbeat quicken with excitement. “ Thank you for being apart of my life. The helaing of the trauma.” I simply said. They nodded, and walked off, fading. The next characters I wrote about.. oh gosh. “ You.” Said a voice. William Afton and his daughter and two sons. Yet not in their animatronic ( or decaying ) state. I paid my respects only to his youngesy son and daughter. Neither of the other two Aftons needed my respect or recognition. Yet Evan pulled at my sleeve. He handed me a small bear plushy, and resumed holding hands with his sister, walking off into the distance. The beat in my hand faded too. Sadly. The next characters were five very.. very familiar dragons. Tsunami, Glory, Starflight, Clay, and Sunny. It was like a dream. Tsunami gave me a warriors pound to the chest, walking off. Glory bowed to me, her colors changing to a soft yellowish-pink. She walked off and next came Starflight, who bowed, though his vision far beyond impaired by now. “ I really liked re-enacting the scrolls you read.” I said to him. He smiled warmly, and continued walking. Then came Clay, who gave me a friendly side hug, though his rough scales scraped me slightly. I didnt mind. He walked off, and then came Sunny. “ We all enjoyed your stories. Thank you, and you’re welcome.” She smiled sweetly, patting my shoulder as she walked by.

It hurt though, to see the nostalgia fly by..

The room is so quiet. Too quiet.

The faces that stare back at me… don’t stare back at me at all. Some stare at their hands or at the floor. Some tap away at phones while others are hunched in corners, heads buried. Some are tall, others are short. There are dark ones and light ones, girls and boys, every body shape under the sun. But somehow, they all look the same. Sad. Hopeless. On the verge of a mental breakdown. I can see it in their eyes; I can see it in all their eyes. All their eyes are the same. Deep brown eyes, eyes so dark they should be black, eyes so dark they should be dead. I know those eyes. They are my eyes.

I swear, I had nothing to do with any of this. One minute I was sitting at my desk, banging my head over schoolwork, and the next I’m in a room filled with people.

Now, it might sound crazy, but I know feel like I know every single of of them. For example, the one standing in front of me, she has long red hair and blue eyes. She looks tough, and has a sword hanging from her hip.

The guy next to her is really tall, with brown hair and green eyes. He also has a sword. Next to the door is a teenage girl with black hair and bracelets all over her arms. Another guy her age was standing next to her protectively.

That’s when it hit me.

I DO know them. Because I wrote them. The two in the corner are Maddie and Ethan. She has bracelets all over her arms because she was bullied in high school.

Ethan is her boyfriend, and he hates that he couldn’t do anything about them.

The girl with red hair is Anna. She the Duke of Valorias daughter. Her boyfriend/trainer is Jasper. Next to them is Nick, Cooper, Dani, Lily, and April.

Aprils face was gray. Like stone. In her story, she got a Fates tattoo that turned her to stone like Medusa.

Standing behind Anna was a little girl. She was eleven. I knew that. She has a scar running across her throat. She had night demons that came alive.

Oh my god.

The first thought that came to mind was, how did they get here? Their only characters I wrote with a pen. Then I was terrified.

Every one of the character went through something terrible. Because of me. What if they hated me? Turns out they answered that for me.

Nick stalked forward. Now that he was closer I could see his hollow, sunken eyes. He was sad. “How could you do that to her?” He shouted. Uh oh. I should’ve known.

I winced and looked at him. This had to be a dream, right? No. A nightmare. “I’m so—“ I am started.

“No! That’s not good enough! Why her? Why did it have to be her?” He looked like he was about to break down. I couldn’t blame him. His girlfriend told him she was gonna live, only to turn a to stone in her apartment right after he left.

I backed away from him just as Anna came towards us with Wind Reaver drawn. “Leave her alone.” She sounded dangerous. The war made her that way. The war I wrote.

Jasper came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. She backed away but never put her sword away.

I felt someone behind me. I turned around to see Maddie. I was scared for a minute, wondering if she was gonna blame me too.

“It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t someone else would have written me into existence.” She smiled kindly at me and hugged me.

This might have been the weirdest experience I’d ever had. I’d never, never thought I would be hugging a character I wrote out of ink.

“Thank you.” A little voice said. I looked over Maddie’s shoulder to see Olivia. She was rubbing at her scar, and I felt guilty again. “You saved me. Thank you.” Olivia looked happy.

Tears filled my eyes and I smiled at her.

Suddenly, everything started to get brighter. I looked around, trying to figure out what was happening and Jasper answered me.

“You’re waking up. Rebel on, Bailie.” He mock saluted and I copied him. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see April standing behind me. “For the record, I don’t blame you either. My fate was set in stone.”

She winked at me and I jolted awake in my bed.

[I just realized that all of my characters are somewhat normal, and then there’s the little kid. Who’s night demon came alive and slit her throat 😭]

“Why did you hurt me?” Said the young woman holding a child to her chest. Clean The Wound.

“Why did you kill my daughter?” Asked the man dressed in rags. Little Bird’s Little Eyes.

“Why did you kill my brother?” Pleaded the older girl. Stars Of The Past.

“Why did you make him take me?” Asked the young girl. Don’t Walk Home Alone. __ _ _ __ The names of all their stories came to me as they questioned me with tears in their eyes. Oh, what had I done to them? I wrote them as stories to match prompts, as pure fiction. I didn’t know that they could be real people, with real pain I put them in. If I had known they really experienced the words I wrote them for, I would have made them all happy stories. But that’s not writing, is it? Nothing we authors write is truly happy.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I don’t know.” __ __ “Sorry wouldn’t bring them back.” Replied the _Stars Of The Past and Little Bird’s Little Eyes characters. _ __ __ “Sorry won’t change what he did to us.” Added the _Don’t Walk Home Alone _and _Clean the Wound _women.

“I- I had though you were all fiction.”

They all shook their heads. “Somewhere, there will always be one of us. Your words, try as you might, change nothing. The world is an ugly, ugly place, filled with ugly, ugly truths. So why do you still write us?”

I thought for a moment, but the answer came quick. It was always there. “I write you to try to comfort, to heal. At least that’s my intent.”

They cocked their heads to the side. “How can you heal and comfort though only words, only fiction? We are just pain on paper.”

“But you’re not the only ones. I want to be able to show others that they’re not alone, that there will always be someone, somewhere, that knows what it’s like. That’s… the only way I can help. Through words. I’m not good at physically helping or verbally. Words are the only way I can help.”

They nodded. “Words are power, use them well.” Then they vanished.

—————

My poor characters….. if I really met them, they’d have a lot to say to me. This definitely wasn’t my best writing, but I was just trying to get a meaning down. Words are really a power that can make or break an entire person. To all the wonderful writers reading this, keep doing what you’re doing. You might just write for fun, but wether you know it or not, ever word has a purpose, a reason why it chose you to spin it into reality. As always, thanks for reading!!!❤️❤️❤️

I gaze around at my characters. The troubled, the lost, the happy, the powerful. All of them. I smile at the quartet, Wren, Beatrice, Ignatius, Clive with a halo around his messy hair.

I notice a few that I almost forgot about. Akiva, Athena, Camille, Alex with his halo, Nathan, Vinnie, Layla, Bev, and Phoebe

They all look at me. Some are angry, mostly Clive. He shouts at me, screaming. “Why did you end me so early? I had so many plans!” I remember that I made him this way. I made him suffer with his anger issues and his anxiety. I made all of them suffer. Camille lost Alex. Phoebe watched Layla suffer. Nathan watched Camille suffer.

I try to apologize, find some explanation. But my mind wipes blank.

“You made me a monster,” King Ryuk says, “You made me a monster. You turned my broken heart into shards of glass, then threatened my townspeople with it. Now I lie in the ground, watching my true love live on” Tears start to fall from my eyes. I did. I did make him the villain. I made my readers hate him. But he was just misunderstood. He was just heartbroken.

Camille steps forward. “You locked me in a hospital. I watched Alex’s heart stopped,” she says in spite. I fumble. “The doctors did all they could. I’m sorry.” She narrows her eyes. “They could’ve done better.”

None of them look happy to see me. Except Akiva, although she does look a little angry. “You gave me your problems and made me deal with them. However, my story still made me suffer, just like you did. You made all of us suffer, you will pay for it.” I’d never expect those words from Akiva. I made her a happy, kind girl. What happened to her?

Suddenly, my characters rush forward, attacking me. They each yell at me, saying what hurt them the most. Then they’d slap me. Each one takes a turn.

But when Ignatius steps up his face looks sad. “Sarah, you had me carry your mental health problems, that was not kind. But, now I see what you’ve had to deal with. I’ve also seen you cry over Alex and Clive’s deaths, so we’ve made you suffer too. I’ve seen you worry about Queen Zia and Layla’s escape. I’m truly sorry.”

Tears fall down my cheeks as my characters stare at me, in awe of my raw emotion. “It was so hard writing you guys. I never wanted to hurt you, but it had to happen. Wren, you would’ve never become the person you are. Camille, you would’ve never loved the way you did. I am sorry for the pain, but I am not sorry for the gain.”

Okay, this is how it all started. I was working on a my story on Google Docs and this large ad that took up most of the screen popped-up and said on it, “Fiction→Reality" start your free trial today." Like with most ads, I went for the teeny tiny 'x' in the corner, but somehow the computer was controlling the movement of my mouse on the screen. It happened so fast that I wasn't able to stop myself from clicking the ad and when I did my computer instantly blacked out and started making a weird humming noise that big electronics make when they get overheated. "Oh no, did I just download a virus." I said outloud to myself. Then about 3 minutes later the computer turned on reveling a bright blue screen with white letters that stated, "Look Behind You." so I did and what I saw amazed me.

The End --------------------------------

Just Kidding 😁

As I looked behind me I saw the characters from my stories I wrote in Google Docs. The Original Gang consisting of Brainy, a 3 foot tall mutated brain with limbs. Dumb Ninja, a ninja that seemed simple minded on the outside, but was actually a mastermind (sometimes) on the inside. Trashtalk, a 5,6 trash can with large eyes on the lid of it. Marboy, a young boy that had been mutated into a marble with a brain. Bird-man, who released a heavy glare my way, probably because of his horrible design of a man with wings for arms and a bird head.

Additionaly in the room could be seen a vast array of various characters a few of them being White Fire and young man with the power to conjure white flames. Grey-Viper, a college student with radioactive powers. Red, Yellow, Blue, primary colored superheroes each with an individual power of flight, laser vision, and water manipulation.

Furthermore, there were characters from my more realistic stories, Victor, Phoenix, Annie, and Lucy.

"Would you happen to be Aiden?" Brainy asks me being the leader of the Original Gang.

"Yes that is me... How did y'all get here?"

"Well I was jumping from train car to train car then I was suddenly transported here to this strange world." said Victor.

"Same here (replied Trashtalk), well not the train thing, but the sudden transportation between dimensions thing."

Then it hit me, it must have been that advertisment that said fiction→reality. After I explained the whole ad experience with them, one of my family members shouted from below, "Hey Aiden, this mai has your name on it!" So I told them to stay quiet in the room while I got the mysterious package from downstairs.

I picked it up from the table and read the top, From: Fiction→Reality to To: Aiden Black. 'It must be about the my characters coming to life's I thought as I suspensfully opened the letter. It read, To whom it may concern, by clicking our advertisement, you have approved a 24-hour free trial of Fiction→Reality that somewhat-legally allows your fictional characters to come to the real world using unknown elements originating from a classified mine in Russia. Have a nice day.

'Well that was concise,' I thought to myself. After sliding the letter into my left pocket, I went upstairs and told them about the letter.

They were both confused and joyous at the same time.

"This might only last 24 hours," I proclaimed, "but it will be the greatest time of my life.

Dramatic ending...

I opened my eyes to see every character I ever wrote around me, all staring down after me. I looked around, I recognized all of them: Michael, Autumn, Colby, Jamie, Edoria, Blaze, Jayden, Peter, Grace, Navy, Pat… all of them. Blaze and Blaze are of even complications because Blaze is a prince elf with a terrible backstory, and Michael was bitten by a zombie and slowly losing his sanity. Eden was my safest option as a friend, she was 15 and young at heart, just like me.

This was a dream and a nightmare all in one room. I get to meet my brain best friend and mentor. Reyna, queen of the elven world and cities and the most spunky, sarcastic person I know. Alex, my silly, endearing, and annoying imaginary boyfriend. I gave him to Reyna but also gave her my expectations. Gillian, aka Gorilla, who is based of my best friend and soul sister. Tristan and Calista, my sinister but sensitive villains who have taught me a lot. Then there’s the other characters who I love but if I said anymore, you would be here forever. And I guess I say mine, but I’m wrong. They are living, loving people who live and my brain. I may have created their world, but they’ve impacted mine.

(Please don’t use these characters. I have created a story with these characters and they have taken a lot of work)

My head lolls to the side as I slowly wake. My eyes flutter open, and I sit upright, noticing I’m in a small wooden chair with a floral cushion. I’m in a room, plain white walls decorated with landscapes in golden frames, no other furniture other than my own chair. The wooden floor is cold beneath my bare feet, and my eyes scan those also in the room.

I notice Maverick and Keane, exactly how I imagined them from my dystopian novel; Defiance. Keane catches my eye and smirks, winking at me. Maverick snaps to get his attention, casting an apologetic glance in my direction. I see the Colonel watching them intently off to the side.

Then I notice Thalia from my dystopian-fantasy book. She’s too busy controlling an orb of rain water to see me right away.

I see the innocent man and woman who I carried through many beginning chapters of my never-completed sci-fi and horror stories, the supernatural being keeping an evil eye on them.

I see countless other characters from years in the past, some of them glaring at me. Presumably because I put down the pencil from their story and never picked it back up again. I’m surrounded by them, asking me questions about why I had abandoned them.

I do my best to explain the difficult position I was in in real life, and how there was too much stress to focus on much. I also apologize to Thalia for neglecting her story, as I have not worked on it in months. Her, being an understanding character, forgives me and promises to protect me, no matter the cost. Maverick and Keane join her side, Keane once again giving me a wink.

I know these characters are loyal and brave and powerful, but sometimes I can’t believe my life might rest in the hands of Keane, the master flirt and teaser, who can’t be serious to save his life.

Out of my peripheral, and standing behind my shield of characters and the incoming wave of angry ones, I see a character I had created in a short story for fun. I had given her abilities unlike any other. She gives me a brief head nod and snaps her fingers.

I bolt upright in my bed, breathing heavily. I look around, to see I’m back in my old room again. Silently, I thank my characters for always being there for me to rely on when I’m in a pickle, or even when I need to get out an emotion. Hopefully, in case it happens again, their anger will have cooled down.

Very choppy and short, but in my defense, I’m just bored at 2:00 am. Hope this entertained you at least!

In a dimly lit room, I find myself surrounded by the characters I've brought to life through my stories. As I look around, the familiar faces of heroes, villains, and those in between blur together in a surreal mix of reality and fiction.

Standing closest to me is Evelyn, the resolute detective from my latest mystery novel. Her sharp eyes scan the room, immediately assessing threats and potential allies. She nods at me, a silent promise of protection. Beside her is Caleb, the gentle musician from my romance series. He gives me a reassuring smile, his presence soothing in this chaotic gathering.

Across the room, I spot the brooding figure of Victor, the antagonist from my psychological thriller. His dark, intense gaze locks onto mine, a predatory grin spreading across his face. Victor, with his manipulative charm and ruthless intellect, would undoubtedly be the most problematic. His mere presence sends a shiver down my spine, a reminder of the darkness I had instilled in him.

As I take a step back, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Turning, I see Clara, the brave and compassionate leader from my dystopian saga. Her strength and kindness have always been a source of inspiration. "We've got your back," she says, her voice firm yet comforting.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes through the room as Marcus, the rebellious rock star from my musical drama, knocks over a chair. "Hey, relax!" he shouts, striding toward Victor. "We're not here to fight." His carefree attitude brings a moment of levity, though I know he's capable of standing his ground if things get out of hand.

Beside Marcus, I notice Anna, the shy, bookish girl from my coming-of-age story. She stands nervously, glancing around but not making eye contact. I give her a nod of encouragement, and she takes a tentative step forward, finding strength in the presence of the others.

As tensions rise, Evelyn and Clara move closer to me, their protective instincts kicking in. Caleb and Marcus form a barrier between me and Victor, whose smile has turned into a calculating smirk. "You think you can control us?" Victor's voice drips with menace. "We are your creations, yet we have minds of our own."

Evelyn steps forward, her voice cold and authoritative. "Enough, Victor. We are here to support our creator, not to undermine them."

Victor's eyes narrow, but he remains silent, his gaze shifting to the others in the room. It's clear he realizes he is outnumbered, his influence waning in the face of such unity.

Feeling a sense of relief, I look around at the characters who have come to my aid. Despite their differences, they stand together, forming an unbreakable bond. Each one represents a piece of me, a facet of my imagination, and a testament to the stories we've shared.

In this moment, I understand that while Victor may be the most problematic, the strength and loyalty of the others far outweigh his darkness. With Evelyn's determination, Clara's leadership, Caleb's kindness, and Marcus's rebellious spirit, I know I am not alone. And even Anna, finding her courage, proves that every character, no matter how small their role, contributes to the tapestry of my creative world.

Together, we face the future, ready to create new stories, confront new challenges, and continue this incredible journey of imagination and storytelling.