#William still has his ^_^ springlocks scar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oftenwantedafton · 3 months

Text

Revival - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Nurse Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - none for this chapter

Also available on AO3

Summary: In an ironic twist of fate, William Afton is saved by the very people he’s been trying so hard to keep out of his pizzeria. Vagrants. Thieves. Urban explorers. One of these has chosen this night to intrude. Lured inward by whatever motivating factors drive them there. Curiosity. Desperation. Shelter. Wealth. The trespassers find him. For a split second the man in the yellow rabbit suit thinks they will flee, thinking him a ghost. Afraid of being blamed for the ruination of the abandoned restaurant, implicated in his harm and imminent death. But one lingers, hesitating when his voice croaks out a plea. The last bit of air he’s been hoarding. Vocal chords straining. An anonymous 911 call made from an office phone that miraculously still functions.

It’s enough.

The pain is excruciating.

William Afton has endured this before, under very different circumstances. A springlock failure, an experiment gone awry, but how else was he to know if they worked properly or not, no risk without reward, and his business partner, his friend, had been so convincing of their probable success. Probable being the key operative word.

He’s sitting now in a collapsed heap he’s been unceremoniously dragged and dropped to, tossed like a bag of garbage, left to rot. Every breath is agony. Each constricted slight attempt at movement torture. His fingers flex weakly within their steel confines of the mascot suit. Reaching for salvation he feels will never come. He has just enough energy to remove the headpiece. His skin is the color of parchment, saturated with perspiration. Graying hair clings in wet tendrils to his face. His lips are pale, bloodless. His body is already shutting off supplies to his extremities in an effort to keep the core alive a little while longer. He feels the slow trickle of the blood weeping out of him. The very jagged edges leaking his lifeforce also partially holding it in place. Extending the torment. New wounds ripping open old scars. He cannot hear the ghost children any longer, the final sound a bellowing roar as the spirit within had finally realized the truth of his deception. The ceiling has collapsed in places, the tiles now littering the floor, the fluorescent lighting dangling like grim party streamers.

He’s dying, alone, in the darkness.

In an ironic twist of fate, William Afton is saved by the very people he’s been trying so hard to keep out of his pizzeria. Vagrants. Thieves. Urban explorers. One of these has chosen this night to intrude. Lured inward by whatever motivating factors drive them there. Curiosity. Desperation. Shelter. Wealth. The trespassers find him. For a split second the man in the yellow rabbit suit thinks they will flee, thinking him a ghost. Afraid of being blamed for the ruination of the abandoned restaurant, implicated in his harm and imminent death. But one lingers, hesitating when his voice croaks out a plea. The last bit of air he’s been hoarding. Vocal chords straining. An anonymous 911 call made from an office phone that miraculously still functions.

It’s enough.

***

The man in the ravaged mascot suit lying on a stretcher is wheeled into the ER a little before dawn.

The hospital staff sees a fair amount of action, considering the location is not a busy city institution. An occasional gunshot wound, usually from a child gaining access to a parent’s unsecured firearm. Sometimes a gas station convenience store robbery gone wrong. Car accident victims. Overdoses. Someone who’s been sober for years falling off the wagon, now violent, cursing out staff as they struggle. A variety of situations, but all manageable.

This case though. There is nothing normal or routine about this. It does not take much of an assessment to realize this is beyond the capabilities of the local hospital, and time is not on their side. An immediate transfer up north. The man’s vital signs are weak. High flow supplemental oxygen fed through the mask strapped to his face. Metal glove removed, intravenous line started. The costume takes up so much space in an already cramped area. The helicopter lands. They’ve arrived.

The extrication process is delicate work. His body repositioned multiple times. Traditional tools are insufficient. Laser metal cutting finally frees the injured man. The victim has lost consciousness. A failure of the springlocks to release properly has somehow left many vital organs free of puncture. A failure of a failure. The man might have chuckled bitterly over that if he was still alert. The suit was getting older. Damaged with so much activity. The fight with the Schmidt boy. The electrical discharges. The gunshot from his daughter. It’s a wonder it had any structural integrity left.

He’s not out of the woods yet. The remains of the springlocks, damaged as they are, are unforgiving. They do not pierce through his flesh cleanly. The edges are jagged. Pincers that dig into his body. An Iron Maiden, a second set of ribs, these alloys that curl in a vice grip. Trying to merge and meld with him. An unforgiving embrace.

Blood transfusions. Strong intravenous antibiotics. The suit is not clean. The restaurant hadn’t been either. The risk of infection is extremely high. Tainted metal and foreign bodies. His lungs are the most damaged part of him. Touch and go. Cardiac arrest. Defibrillated, brought back. In the aftermath, the man survives.

There is still a long road of recovery ahead of him.

***

The man who’d been trapped in the mascot suit is transferred from the ICU to a medical surgical floor. Stable. Awake again. And somehow, miraculously, still absolved of any guilt.

The pizzeria had been searched. The most recent casualties found. He himself an assumed victim in a string of unexplained disappearances. The baby sitter and her brother, the former decapitated and the latter shoved inside of an animatronic suit. Their two accomplices, their bodies mangled. All of them found in the service workroom. Now this social worker, who, when he’s recovered enough to speak, insists he was going there on a site visit to check on the new hire. Whatever Mike tells them seems to fall on deaf ears and he doesn’t press the matter, perhaps just grateful he and his sister are safe. The man’s own daughter is still in a coma. He knows she’ll keep silent, going along with whatever story he concocts, covering for him. She always does.

So his real identity is still concealed. Steve Raglan remains a trusted alias. There are cards and flowers from his coworkers. A news story marveling over his recovery. How brave he was to confront this killer, the owner, William Afton. The man behind the slaughter.

If they only knew.

***

You flip through the patient’s chart in front of you. So many notes. Physician orders. What a journey this patient has had. One that began in spring. Now it’s fall.

Your patient load is light this evening. There isn’t much for you to do for the man at this stage. He’ll be discharged soon. He’ll still need more rehabilitation to regain his strength and recover from the deconditioning his body has undergone due to his long hospital stay.

You sling your stethoscope around your neck and knock before entering the room.

It’s the last one at the end of the hallway. The illuminated landing pad for the medi flight helicopter is visible from here, the blinds open and raised over the bottom third of the windows. Television off. The wall light on the lowest setting. The man’s eyes are closed. His breathing is regular. Sometimes his lungs struggle a bit and he requires a bronchodilator, either a nebulizer or an inhaler. Probably something he’ll require for the rest of his life. He has a likely susceptibility to respiratory illnesses as well now. The damage had been severe, his exposure to contaminants unforgiving.

His graying hair and beard have grown out, making him look rather unkempt. You can see he’s long overdue for a trim. You gently set your stethoscope on his chest to listen to his heart and lungs. His eyes open. Pale. Intense. You freeze.

“Sorry to disturb you, I’m just doing my assessments.” You hate having to wake people up so late at night. “I’ll be fast, I promise.”

“It’s alright, I’m used to it. Do what you have to do.” His voice is coarse but pleasant. You find yourself staring at his features and become distracted from listening to his apical pulse and respirations. Early fifties his chart had said. Skin in good shape. Light crows feet at the corners of those wide set piercing eyes. The untidy hair makes your fingers itch to try to tame it.

Without any guidance he withdraws his arm from beneath the sheet draped over him. Cuing you to take his blood pressure, startling you from your reverie. Your cheeks flush. You notice the scars on his arms immediately. Such strange markings. Rings and slashes. You can’t even imagine how frightening that must have been. Shoved inside an animatronic by some maniac serial killer. Amazing he had survived. You press your fingers against his wrist, your eyes on the clock on the wall as you calculate his pulse. His skin is very warm.

The manual cuff fits easily over the bearded man’s upper arm. He’s lost weight since he’s been in the hospital, but you think he was probably lean to begin with. “This is going to get tight. Still better than the machines. And more accurate.” You’re old school. You prefer obtaining vital signs manually yourself. The aides have enough work to do. You press the stethoscope to the antecubital space, tucking it slightly underneath the cuff, fingers curling around his elbow to help hold it in place. You tighten the grooved metal air release valve and begin squeezing the bulb. Your eyes lock on the gauge. You’ve done this long enough now that you can see the changes as the systolic and diastolic readings register, the audible portion just confirmation of what you’re visualizing when the needle beats along in accompaniment before being reduced to a smooth sweep. The velcro parts with a harsh rasp of sound as you remove the cuff, replacing it into the storage bin behind the bed.

“Okay, good. Temperature next.” You slide the probe cover on and his lips part so you can tuck the thermometer under his tongue. A very prominent tongue. Agile. Curling. You know you’re blushing again and you stare hard at the digital display. Afebrile. You withdraw the probe and depress the button to drop the cover in the small wastebin beside the bed. Pulse oximetry next. Saturation in the low 90s. Not ideal, but decent all things considered. He’s got lovely hands. Long, slender fingers. “Any trouble breathing?”

“I still cough when I take a deep breath sometimes but otherwise okay. And no, not coughing up anything. Nonproductive.”

“You have been here awhile, huh? We could probably put you to work. Train the new grads.” The turnover rate at the hospital is high. A lot of temporary agency staff. Recent graduates that put in six months or a year for a reference and then move on to whatever specialty they decide on. You like med surge. You enjoy the reward of seeing people get better and go home. “You must be dying to get out of here. Where are you from again? Hurricane, was it?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t have time to go through your whole chart and it’s obviously more than can be given in any detail on report, but. Yeah. You’ve clearly been through a lot. I’m sure your family will be glad to have you back.”

“I don’t know about that. My daughter and I have…our differences.”

“Does she live with you?”

“No, she’s grown. Long out of the nest. I live alone now.”

“Oh.” You return your stethoscope to its drape over the nape of your neck. “Well, glad to be out of here, in any case. I need to check your chest. From what I got on report everything is healing well. Any pain?”

“I’m alright.” He shifts, lifting the blue diamond patterned hospital gown.

You almost gasp, managing to stifle it at the last moment. Keep it professional.

The damage is so, so much worse here. So many deep scars. Nothing like the fainter ones marring his upper extremities. Puckered gouges. Taut, shiny dark red lines bordered by dots where the surgical staples that had held his wounds closed had been. More irregular patterns you cannot discern the origin of. What had been inside that suit?

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst—”

“Zero. I’m fine, honestly.”

You sense he’s not being entirely truthful despite his reassurances. You notice the slight wince when he moves. Still tender.

“If you need something—”

“—I don��t need pain medication.”

You blink, slowly removing your stethoscope again. Stubborn. Well, you’ll leave it for now. “I’m going to check your abdomen. I’m sorry, my hands are always cold.” You listen, then percuss and press in each quadrant. The faintest silver stretch marks on his belly near the umbilicus. He was much heavier, once. You note a faint happy trail that disappears into navy blue boxer briefs and quickly shove that from your thoughts. “Any tenderness?”

“No.” His eyes have not left your face since you’ve begun examining him.

“Okay. Would you mind sitting up for me so I can listen to your lungs and check your skin?”

He complies. There is a knot at the top of the johnny. The rest is open. You don’t even have to instruct him to breathe deeply. He really is familiar with the routine. The scars are not as pronounced here. The majority of the damage looks like it was on the front of his torso.

You flip the sheet back to check his lower extremities once he’s settled again. No edema. Color good. Well perfused. The same light patterns as on his upper extremities. His legs are so long. He’s well over six feet, you think. His feet have to rest on either side of the footboard with the bed adjustment controls.

You readjust the sheet so it’s draped neatly over your patient’s frame once more. “Okay, we’re all set. Everything looks good.” You tap on the call button hung over the side rail. “You call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll check on you later, Mr. Raglan.”

“Steve, please.” He smiles. Such even white teeth. Dimples. The creases at the corners of his eyes deepening. Butterflies in your stomach. He really is quite attractive. He’s also your patient. Be professional.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You hear him pull the string to switch the light off as you leave the room.

He does not call for assistance. When you peek in later, the room is dimly lit by the nightlight set in the wall. He seems to be sleeping. Your shift ends.

***

Steve’s back on your assignment two nights later.

“Have you always worked third shift?”

“Since I became a nurse, yes. I’m a night owl. I don’t know how you do it. Getting up early five days a week. I’d rather stay up then get up. I didn’t last long in the hairdresser business.”

“You get used to it.”

“I guess. Open, please.” You slip the thermometer under his tongue. No fever, but he still feels impossibly warm. You realize that’s just his baseline.

“Since you mentioned it, I wonder if I might ask a favor of you. If your assignment isn’t too heavy. The day shift aides seem very occupied and the nurses much the same.”

“We actually discharged four people earlier tonight. I only have you and one other patient. Nursing home. Sweet lady. So yes, I’ll have down time. What’s up?”

“How would you feel about cutting my hair? This mess is absolutely driving me mad.” He rakes a hand through his graying locks.

“Oh, sure, I can do that, provided I find some decent scissors. If you trust me over someone in the salon. I think they’re short on help, like every other department. How short do you want it?”

“I trust your judgment and I’m tired of waiting. Would my driver’s license picture help?”

“Oh, yeah, good idea.”

“Top drawer of the bedside table.”

You find a weathered looking leather billfold inside. Deep creases. You remove the card from the vinyl window sleeve so you can see his picture more clearly. Side part. Layered. Facial hair much more neatly trimmed. And gold framed aviators. “You wear glasses?”

“Sometimes. Mainly for driving. I’m near sighted.”

“Oh. Well, I can manage this, no problem.” You tuck the license back inside the slot and fold the wallet, setting it back in the drawer. “You can lock this drawer, you know. I mean, I think all of our staff is trustworthy, but you never know.”

“There’s really nothing valuable left. In there.”

A definite pause. You wonder what’s buried in those words. Your eyes fall on the pile of greeting cards from well wishers. “Have you heard from your daughter?” You’d heard she’d been stabbed and had been in a coma for quite some time. Recovered now. A police officer.

“No, and I don’t expect to. We’re accustomed to long pauses without speaking.”

You see the man tense up and decide to shelve the topic. “It’ll be easier to cut your hair if it’s wet.”

“I’ll take a shower.”

“I’ll bring you some towels.”

He’s out of bed, standing beside it when you return. Very tall, as you’d predicted. “I put them in the bathroom. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

You close the door softly behind you.

***

“You’re in luck. The security guard I’m friendly with is on tonight. I invaded the hair salon.”

“Friendly, hmm?” He settles into the hardbacked chair you’ve pulled out from against the wall and you tuck a towel around his neck.

“Well, not that friendly.” You comb your fingers through the damp tresses, trying to decide where to begin.

“That feels nice.”

You let your hands scrape his scalp a little and he hums appreciatively. You’re so accustomed to quick in and outs, doing your assessments, administering medication, moving on to the next patient, repeating the process until it’s time for documentation. It’s nice to be doing something more leisurely for a change. Meeting other needs.

“You have really nice hair.” The texture of it. The coloring. You like the mixture of shades. Combing with an actual plastic tool now. Dragging everything even. Fingers marking off a swathe. You begin.

Muscle memory. You’d done enough trims in your previous profession. Men are so much easier to style than women. Pieces fall to the floor, catch on the towel. He needs a lot of layering. The soft sound of the shears snipping, a whisk of metal blades. Working near his ears. At his neck now. A thick neck, something else you’d noticed right away during your assessment. His eyes on you when you move to stand in front of him. Pressing close. The furniture seems so absurdly small. His knee bumping into you. Pajama pants on. Still the hospital gown on top. This one’s tie at the neck is ripped, instead fastened mid spine. Some of the buttons on the sleeves not snapped. Your fingers touch his face, adjusting his head so you can view his hairstyle from different angles. The scent of the baby shampoo the hospital supplies. Antibacterial soap.

“Not too shabby if I do say so myself. Maybe go have a look in the bathroom mirror?” You carefully gather the towel to minimize the mess and he rises. So tall. You keep forgetting. Looming beside you. Older tree and young sapling.

Departs. Returns. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. Want me to do your beard too?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You don’t. It seems silly not to. Like leaving a job unfinished. The beard trimming feels more intimate. His eyes always on you. You finish. A near replica of how he’d looked previously, disregarding the weight loss.

“What do you miss the most, being in here for so long?” As if he is confined in a prison. It is a sort of holding cell, in a way. Trapped until the physician determines he’s able to return home. Or insurance runs out. Or unless he leaves AMA.

He hums thoughtfully. “I would kill for a cheeseburger and a cold beer. And a cigarette,” he adds with a heavy sigh of longing.

You blink in surprise. “You smoke?” You’re fairly certain it had said he was a non smoker in his chart.

“Not for years. Longer than you’ve been alive.”

You blush at this reminder of your age gap. “You want me to smuggle in some contraband?”

“Would you?”

“Yes. Tomorrow night. Tell me what you want specifically, brands and such, and I’ll try my best to get it for you.”

“How kind of you. Yet devious.” He grins again.

You’re starting to enjoy this dark smile of his.

***

You lead Steve up the stairs onto the hospital roof.

Clear autumn sky. Harvest moon. Air brisk. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and blue flannel pajama pants and slippers that don’t look like they quite fit right. You’ve got a cardigan on over your scrubs. Your companion sounds a little winded. Still adjusting to exercise. Therapy said he’d been progressing well. They’d done a home visit to assess what he’d have to manage physically independently. His discharge paperwork was now underway.

“If I thought we could get away with smoking in your room, I’d have just cracked the window, but there’s no way the alarm wouldn’t go off.” You hand him the pack and a lighter you’d tucked into your pocket. “You shouldn’t make a habit of this, though. I’m worried about your breathing.”

“I’ll be alright.” A flame illuminates his features. “It’ll take more than one cigarette to do me in.” He inhales shallowly, testing that theory. A sighed exhale. A little cough at the end that he’s trying to stifle.

“Steve,” you say warningly.

He waves the hand holding the cigarette. “I’m fine. I appreciate all of your efforts, really. The cheeseburger was divine. The beer the same. This is exactly what I needed.” He takes another drag. No coughing this time.

You fold your arms across your chest, leaning back against the small brick structure that houses the roof access.

“Do you ever treat yourself to something you enjoy? I imagine being a caregiver is rather draining.”

“I enjoy my days off. It’s a good schedule. I can’t really complain.”

“When’s the last time you went on vacation?”

You frown. “I have no idea. It’s been years.”

“Maybe it’s time you took one.”

“I don’t even know where I’d go.”

Raglan flicks the end of the cigarette. “You could visit Hurricane.” So casually said. Your breath hitches.

“You mean visit you?”

“I would hope you’d stop by if you were in the area.” He blows a stream of smoke.

“I would.”

“You would or you will?” Another drag, followed by a cough. Longer this time.

You move closer, touching his sleeve. “You should stop, Steve. I’m really worried.”

The man sighs, letting the cigarette drop from his fingers and grinding it beneath the sole of his shoe. “Maybe you’re right.” He tucks the lighter and the pack back into the pocket of your cardigan. “Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Will you come to me, in Hurricane?” The wind lifts a stray strand of your hair and he tucks it back behind your ear. The casual touch lingers, evolving, his thumb now stroking deliberately along your jaw. You have just enough time to answer affirmatively before his lips dust across yours.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

80 notes · View notes

ezratheanon · 1 month

Text

Hey guys today im gonna be talking about my essay on that one fic direct doggo posted

y'know, the one. uhh what was it called again? ah yes DSAF tales "Nothing" anyways something thats been nagging me is how people frame thats the worse daves been throug, that henrys abuse weapon (?) is a wrench, well im here to tell you, are wrong. from the wonderfull wording in the fic (thanks dd)

["Well, obviously, I can see you, windin' up some kind of device, ready to put it into your unfinished bot, right?" Dave responded, now hesitant of whether or not he was bumbling his way into one of Henry's (quite typical) cruel lessons.]

here we can tell that this isnt the first time Daves been through this,, hes hesitent, wondering if hes stumbling in one of henrys cruel lessons again. (notice plural in lesson? another bit of evidence)

[William had no time to brace himself before he received an unyielding impact, courtesy of the wrench still in Dr Miller's left hand. William yelped like a confused animal, held his jaw tightly, and paced a few steps backwards, careful not to expose his back to Henry.]

this section of the fic. oh boy theres so much to unpack here. first of, notice the wording? "courtesy of the wrench still in Dr millers hand" henry didnt specifically pick up a something and hit william with it. he just hit him with whatever he had on hand. this has his ups and down, for example if he was holding a newspaper the blow couldve been softer, on the other hand, if he was holding a more potentially dangerous weapon, like a wrench, then daves in a bit more trouble.

another thing, "careful not to expose his back to Henry" this part, he knows exactly what to do to try to not make it worse, this type of carefulness dosent come from a one time thing. it also implies that, well, lets just say that some of the scars on his body (specifically his back) werent made by springlocks

[Henry slowly turned back to his work, and continued cranking the coil of the mechanism that was again holding his sole interest, now that William was disciplined. Henry didn't bother to turn back to check if William had fled the room, he knew that his assistant wouldn't.]

here, this part "Henry didn't bother to turn back to check if William had fled the room, he knew that his assistant wouldn't" If this was henrys first time doing something similar to this, he wouldve wanted to see how william wouldve reacted, but since it isnt henrys first time, he didnt turn around, he knew how william would react to this type of treatment.

In this fic, you can also see how deep henry had dave in manipulation. just by looking at the vocabulary directdoggo used when henry was adressing william "Henry cooed" "Henry affectionately placed his hand on William's now bloodied chin."

in this fic, we can also see the method of manipulation he used to GET william this deep in.

["Henry affectionately placed his hand on William's now bloodied chin.

Now that you see it too, don't you want to protect others from it?" Henry asked him, "Don't you want to stay here, in the light, knowing that I won't let you ever become nothing?" William forced a shaky smile, and frantically nodded, tears in his eyes. Henry's face contorted into a smile, no less sinister, but noticeably wider, but with closed lips]

its like beating up a dog, but then giving them some treats, knowing what you did is wrong, but needing to keep them loyal by giving reward at the end of abuse.

["How does it look, William?" Henry asked, turning to face his partner, who turned back, fixating himself on the costume to stop his very being from straying towards inconsolability.]

here we can see that william knew that henry would give no more consolation, implying he has tried before, in the past and was just met with worse

anyways theres so much more i want to talk about this fic but it dosent relate to henry and daves dynamic or i forgor so dont forget to like and subcribe and hit that bell!!!!! (Sorry)

#dsaf #not fnaf #dr henry miller #henry dsaf #henry miller #dsaf henry #dsaf dave #dsaf dave miller #dave miller

38 notes · View notes

sillywillyrobotics · 1 year

Text

william afton (+ relationship) headcanons

a/n: my headcanons for willy I had for like 8 years and never published it anywhere. GN reader. (reader is not a biological parent of William's kids).

william in a workaholic, so he often needs a reminders to do basic human stuff (eating, sleeping, etc).

as his work progressed, he started to have different vitamin deficiency so healthy food and pills/medicines could help from time to time.

takes care of himself very well, but often forgets to shave or keep his hair under control;

so if his partner can do some magic with scissors he would be grateful if you could cut his hair for him.

has a bad habit of falling asleep late, in the middle of the night, at his desk.

he had a rabbit and a turtle in his childhood.

doesn't want pets himself now, but if his kids would really want one he would agree for a dog or a rabbit.

he's demiromantic/demisexual.

smokes only outside; hates to smoke at home where his kids are.

Is really charismatic and confident but long social interactions completely drain him from energy.

likes pop music but won't admit it

probably was incredibly insecure about his springlock scars at first. He still is, but not as much as right after the accident.

his love language are mostly physical affection and acts of service.

won't admit it directly but is incredibly grateful if you help him to bond with Michael and help them improve their relationship

is also grateful if you help with kids;

also Mike is happy that he finally have another parent figure that help him calm down after arguments with Will and solve problems between them.

William need more vitamin D, please help him go get some sun.

he's a dog person

He meet Henry when he already had plans for Freddy's, but it was William who at the end motivated Henry to actually start business.

Will and Henry are(were) actually good friends and they often helped each other with domestic stuff (diner, taking care of each other kids).

Henry would play matchmaker with you and William when the tension would become unbearable between you two.

William has extremely cold feet but extra warm hands.

he has an aquarium with fish in his office at home and Elizabeth loves to count them when she's in there.

William loves to cook but rarely has time and energy. Although he always will find some for anniversaries or special occasion.

he really does tries but needs some help form time to time.

often leaves things in his pockets.

loves to kiss your hands.

forehead kisses are also comforting for him, both giving and receiving <3

#william afton #fnaf #fanfic #william afton x reader #sillywillyrobotics

130 notes · View notes

henafton · 1 year

Text

if it's you helliam relationship study (short, fluffy drabble) wc 503

"your scars ... make me sad."

it was a quiet admittance; one that clearly william didn't expect, and one that even henry was surprised slipped past his own lips. his hand draws back from where it had been sitting atop william's chest to place against his lips, as if checking to make sure they were really his.

surely, he hadn't said that aloud.

but the furrow in william's brow made him realize that he, unfortunately, had.

"my scars make you sad? pray tell why, henry?" william's smooth accent fills the open air, and henry fidgets with his hands.

his hands -- calloused, scarred, and seemingly a magnet for dried blood and scab wounds that he couldn't tell you where he got them from. the hands that he picks at when he's anxious; much like he's doing now.

william places one hand overtop of henry's to cease the motion. it forces the brunet to lift his gaze again to william.

"i asked you something," william reminds, and henry just sighs.

"i feel like it was my fault."

"your fault," william repeats, "that i climbed into a dangerous suit and got impaled from all angles."

henry doesn't respond. his hands break free from william's hold and move to gently place warm fingertips against william's neck, where the scars are most prevalent. william's skin is always so cold, as if he'd died years ago and was merely a walking corpse. henry knew it not to be true; yet the sudden and unshakeable thought disturbed him nonetheless.

the brunet's finger trails along the scar line as it moves down his neck to the collar of his shirt. it's only there that his fingers stop their movement, yet stay halted in place. "if i never built it, it would've never hurt you."

william scoffs then, as if henry's being ridiculous. the latter's gaze moves to william's face, but he doesn't find malice or scolding, just confusion. "that may be true, but regardless, you didn't force me into the suit. you didn't trip the springlocks. it isn't your fault, henry, not really."

it's quiet for a while. henry stews in william's words, and william allows him his silence. after a few more moments, henry's fingers begin tracing back upwards the scar line he'd ran his fingertips down. he feels william stiffen, and henry pauses. "does it hurt?"

"... not really," william's voice is quieter now. they've toed close to a sore subject. henry doesn't push. he allows william to speak when he feels he wants to, much like a cat; he lets william come to him. "sometimes i can still feel the hurt if i think about it too much, but not now. i'm just ... not used to people touching them. i try to hide them."

"do you want me to stop?"

henry's hands, despite how broken they appear, are steady, soft, and warm. william isn't used to a delicate touch -- never has been. the moment henry inches his touch away, william snags his wrist.

"no. i don't mind, if it's you."

58 notes · View notes

ask-tt-fnaf · 2 months

Text

put time travel into anything and it becomes better

idea

this is a character ask blog for a goofy FNAF time travel au

I will also post comics occasionally

this au does not have very much lore so have fun and don’t take any o this stuff seriously.

it has time travel cus Henry like. time travel kidnapped them all and now they all have to live in 2020 with him for some reason

this is very early in its stages! advice for anything would be greatly appreciated and welcome!

#ooc- out of character. white text like this

#in character- coloured text (most likely orange or purple, but any colours are in character)

*this blog may contain some willry

these asks will be answered in comic form! *THEY MAY BE IN EITHER A STICK FIGURE FORM OR A MORE COMPLEX FORM! VERY RARELY WILL THEY JUST BE ANSWERED WITH TEXT*

SORRY FOR MY CRAPPY DESCRIPTIONS MY BAD I CANT WRITE 🤓

meet the cast!

(I couldn’t come up with any nicknames/ separate names to tell them apart for Henry lol :3 so I may need some help with that if u wanttt 🤓👉👈)

Bill and Henry - from college! William arrived from England not too long ago to get away from his abusive father. Unfortunately, he had a younger sister that he misses dearly- it makes him feel awful that she’s still in that house. When Henry and him met, it didn’t take long before they became the bestest of friends. Henry’s lived in Utah for his whole life. He loves building robots, it’s his favourite thing to do. Meanwhile, Bill likes the performing arts, but designing robots and looking at the things that make them work is fun to him too.

Will and Henry - from around 1980-1983! They’ve just opened Fredbear’s Family Diner together, and business has been booming! They’re living great lives and they don’t see how anything could go wrong. However, Henry and his wife are going through divorce, and William has been springlocked, leaving him with scars over his body. Otherwise though, things are going great.

William - William in 1987. William has divorced, and two of his children have been killed by his own creations. One night, he was drunk and tired and thought Charlie would be the best victim to get his revenge on. He didn’t stop after that, though- he’s murdered five already. He’s a constant chainsmoker, and a very unpleasant guy to be around.

Springtrap and Henry - from 2020. William has gotten springlocked a second time, this one killing him. However, he’s not really dead.. more like part of the undead, taking on the new name of ‘Springtrap’. Henry is lonely, depressed, and old now. Everyone he knows is dead. Maybe someone else will come later.. >:]

‼️some people not welcome! I’m talking to YOU homophobes, r@cists, sexists, zi0nists, weird -philes (p3do/zoo), also nsfw/kink blogs please don’t interact! this blog is run by a MINOR so don’t be weird and don’t ask anything overly sexual‼️

yippee this sucks 🥳

#I had a LOT of debate with myself abt what time springtrap should be from #but I think this works #fnaf au #fnaf #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #willry #henry emily #william afton #springtrap #ask blog #in character blog

12 notes · View notes

aftoonfamily · 5 months

Note

Would you like to share some thoughts/ headcannons/ whatever you want about your oxymoron au? Specially regarding Mike but whatever you like is fine :D

Sure why not.

Mike only really inherited looks from William. He was not very good in school at all while William was actually very academically gifted. He also gained little from his father’s charming personality, more of his mother’s quiet demeanor. Not even his temper was from William, who is actually very good at holding his composure.

William still messed with the springlocks on Fredbear so if Henry had taken them to Fredbear’s for Evan’s birthday, the bite still could have happened (and I did think about it ngl).

Although, William was not around to mess with the animatronics at the fnaf 2 location so the bite of 87 did not happen.

One of Mike’s favorite activities is lying in his bed while it’s dusk and dark in his room, headphones on and turned up loud, and just staring up at nothingness. It’s a weird destresser that he kinda has to do our else he just gets continuously crankier.

Lizzie wasn’t very popular in school, having a bit of a record of talking back and snarking to other kids and teachers a like. She mostly just hung out alone or with Susie.

Evan also wasn’t very popular but for an opposite reason. He was still bullied terribly. Like really bad. Pretty physical at some points. He had a couple friends that helped, but you can only do so much as a kid yourself.

Mike has a lot of fidgeting quirks that are physically harmful. He rips up his lips with his teeth and fingers until they’re bloody and scarred, he was eat his nails down to little nubs, and he scratches at his scars constantly. It leaves a lot of harsh flaws. They’re also Lizzie’s number 1 pet peeves she fucking hates when he starts picking.

Mike’s favorite band is The Smiths, but his favorite genre is grunge. He just really likes The Smiths.

None of the siblings could decide on what they wanted to change their last name to by the time Lizzie had Cassie. It caused so many fights. At the end of the day, Lizzie just gave Cassie her father’s name and they all begrudgingly kept the name Afton.

William always struggled with his need to be liked, but all the things he thinks are cool are objectively…. Lame and dorky. He literally tried making friends with Henry by showing him card tricks. He got Clara by telling cheesy jokes that he would explain too much. He can literally juggle.

Mike has only dated like a few people in his life and not for more than three months, but has lived with his bestie Jeremy for over a decade he is the definition of a loser like his father William “never got over his college situationship” Afton.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #aftoonasks #oxymoron au

15 notes · View notes

wh0rephobic · 2 years

Note

ASDFGHJKSLSJSO WILLIAM BUT HIS SHIRT DRENCHED FROM THE RAIN BARK BARK BARK BARK

LIKE IMAGINE him opening the door to you both house, grumbling, soaked to the bone because its raining and he forgot his umbrella or something, his white shirt clings to his skin showing all his scars and his hair wet oh my god im gonna combust. AND LIKE you are not able to get your eyea off of him and he notices and teases you AAAAHHHHHHHHH

(this idea formed while i was talking to my bf who was drenched because he doesn't know that it'll rain when he went out with his friends LMAOO)

-🎀 anon <333

OH MY GOD YESSS like imagine him bursting through the door soaking, and you run over to help him out of his soaked jacket and stuff, slowly pausing once you do and admire the way the wetness of his white shirt clings to his muscles. you’re frozen, eyes widening as you can’t help but stare at the way the wet cloth sticks to ever divot of his springlock scars, letting the dark pink hyperpigmentation stand out greatly against his pale white skin once the temperature sets in, making all of his blood pool in the damaged tissue.

he has a very displeased expression on his face when he turns in your direction, brows furrowed as he grumbles profanities to himself about the downpour, freezing suddenly when he catches your blown-out expression.

“what are you looking at?” he hisses.

you can only spare him a quick glance to his face before you turn back down to the glistening fabric contouring his abs. you nearly start drooling and william finally takes the initiative to follow your line of sight to his chest, noticing the transparency of his shirt while he still drips on the wooden floor of your foyer. his expression softens, snickering quietly as he brings a hand up to push his hair out of his eye with his palm.

“is that what you’re looking at?” he grins, “my scars?”

you close your ajar mouth when you swallow hard, blinking the glossy look from your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself before you nod. william tilts his head on his shoulder, cooing at your stupidity while he raises a wet palm to cup your cheek.

“aww,” he rubs his thumb under your eye. “you poor, horny thing. did you go dumb looking at me in my wet shirt? hm, yeah?”

his teasing is what snaps you out of your trance, face deepening when you swat his hand away from your face.

you turn down to hide your red embarrassment. “stop..!” you whine as he laughs at you.

“how about this, darling,” he proposes, “why don’t you go wait in our room, and then i’ll come and take care of you. how’s that sound?”

he has a tone in his voice like he’s speaking to a dog. as humiliating as it is, the way he’s speaking to you like you’re less than him, like you’re nothing but a dumb pet, doesn’t fail to soak through your panties.

“o-okay…” you mumble, hiding your face behind one of your hands.

“alright. so, you go and strip, and i’ll be right there.”

#🍒 — let’s talk!#🍒 — william afton #🎀

149 notes · View notes

and-stir-the-stars · 1 year

Text

Saffron Evan is pretty emo btw.

He wears dark clothes, because 1) the Fredbear suit William made him wear was brightly colored, and wearing the exact opposite is a relief for him, and 2) it's comforting for Ev to be able to blend and fade into the shadows as needed. He doesn't like being the center of attention, doesn't want to be seen.

Maybe he even wears dark eye makeup. He hates the eternal bags he has under his eyes; Mike suggests the eye makeup as a joke more than anything else ("you'd look like a badass rockstar"), but Evan actually does give it a try. Maybe ironically at first before deciding he likes the way it looks.

Other details about him:

He has no fear when it comes to screaming the lyrics to his favorite songs for all to hear. He listens to a pretty even distribution of music genres, but (inaccurately) thinks he mostly listens to moody emo music. Mike cries a bit the first time he catches Evan singing along to a popular, happy song with his eyes closed and dancing alone in his room. In that moment, how far Ev has come suddenly hits him.

He has a scar starting at the corner of his eye and extending down his cheek. It healed reasonably well and is mostly invisible, but in the right lighting, the scar tissue looks like the glistening of a tear trail down his face. The scar is either from one of his/William's victims fighting back, or from one of the springlocks going off during one of the many times William locked him in the Fredbear suit as punishment.

After Mike agrees to give Evan tattoos, Mike constantly pesters him about getting piercings because "it'll go with your emo loser vibes." Ev adamantly refuses because "that's stupid. I'm not doing that."

Once their relationship becomes more stable, Ev feels guilty about how hard Mike works to support him and all the animals he comes home with. He gets a job to help out.

Ev was homeschooled after the Bite, supposedly because his injury left him too vulnerable to go to public school. Really, it was because William wanted to keep him isolated and make it easier to manipulate him.

Ev is still homeschooled after Mike gets custody. No parent wants their kid to go to a school with a murderer, right? It's safer for Ev this way, and for the other kids if Evan loses control. Still, as time goes on, Mike can't help but wonder if the homeschooling is a mistake. He doesn't want to keep Ev isolated like William did (which is part of the reason he agrees when Ev says he wants to get a job).

#dunno how the homeschooling thing works with mike having to work so much #but shhhhh #saffron pawn au #evan afton #cc afton #michael afton #mike afton

17 notes · View notes

meows-on-you · 5 months

Text

Fnaf Au Timeline

Spoilers for my Le epic fnaf au under the cut

1965- Micheal is Born | Charlie and Sammy are Born [Their Mom dies during childbirth]

| 12 years later [william and henry are having an affair during this time]

1977- Evan and Elizabeth are born

| 1 year later

1978- William and Henry's affair becomes public | Mrs. Afton leaves William and The kids

| 3 months later [throughout this time William is binge drinking and becoming more and more violent]

1978- William kills Charlie, Crashes his car, and goes missing | Sammy goes to live with his grandparents in Florida and Henry becomes a recluse

| 5 years later [Micheal has to raise Evan and Liz on his own [He has help from Jeremy and his family tho]

1983- The bite of 83 [only this time is was done by some of Evans classmates [Micheals raising two kids he doesn't have time to bully one]] Evan survives but has scarring, vision issues, and motor issues

| 2 years later

1985- Missing kids incident

| 2 years later [People are still going missing throughout this time]

1987- The bite of 87 [Jeremy dies [poor Micheal he never even got to confess to him]| Micheal discovers the missing kids and Charlie | They work together to get “rid” of William

| 3 months later

1987- William gets springlocked and sealed away | Charlie decides to stay with Micheal incase William ever comes back | Cassidy begins torturing William via never ending nightmare

| 5 years later

1992- Elizabeth discovers Springtrap and befriends him | Cassidy awakens the other missing kids

| 1 year later [People have started going missing again] Sammy moves to Hurricane to investigate the dissaperances [and find his sister]

1993- Evan and Samantha discover Liz and Springtrap [and question Lizs sanity since shes hanging out with a fucking corpse] | Micheal and Sammy meet

And idk beyond that lol

#fnaf #fnaf au #long post #william afton #micheal afton #elizabeth afton #evan afton #charlie emily #sammy emily #jeremy fitzgerald #typin

4 notes · View notes

nachosforfree · 2 years

Note

If we still sharing headcannons then here's some

If CC and Elizabeth had made it past childhood they both would have grown taller then Michael and yes they would rub it in his face

On of the OG pieces of fazbear merch were a tamodotchi style raising game, some of the later animatronics made by the franchise took inspiration from some if the little dudes you could get

If some had found William shortly after he got spring locked he actually would have been able to survive outside the suit, albeit with some heavy scarring and worse motor functions most likely

Another piece of fazbear merch is puppet worm on string

Ballora was actually just made for shits and giggle and wasn't supposed to be an official animatronic, someone just took the ballora animatronic by accident and by the time they realized it was too late to just delete her entirely and pretend she didn't exist

The reason fredbear and springbonnie were yellow is because that was the only paint they had, no other reason.

i love all of these actually

i think the springlock thing is canon cuz in the comics william has scars from a previous springlock failure that he survived

#asks

26 notes · View notes

sotogalmo · 6 months

Text

7:37

Smth bout my CC/Train Station CC, is that he and William can see each other's scars. William sees little bites out of CC's skin, and especially his ankles and hands/arms. CC sees the springlock scars on William.

The scars on CC are from his hallucinations (or are they?), and especially Chica. She is the foodie one. The little nibbles are from the freddalines(?)/baby freddies.

CC is severely starved/skinny. He is fed well but he was not really a healthy baby when he was born. CC is William's favorite kid. CC knows of William's plan; being immortal. He agrees as a way to get back to Terrance/Mike(who is he? To CC he is just a bully. Could CC be named Mike? He doesn't remember), for those times he laughed at him and made fun of him

CC is also much paler than his siblings. But he still does hang out in the Sun. Not for long though

CC has grey prism-like eyes(grey-light green/central heterochromia; blue)in a way. In death, his eyes are grey prisms(when light is shined on his eyes, a dark-ish rainbow appears. His own flashlight!). His favorite color is Yellow; William's Springbonnie and his Physic Fredbear plushie.

Terrance/Mike is the second closest to being William's look-alike. CC is the first one that looks like William(grey eyes and brown hair)

I think I wanna talk more this AU now ... CC the beloved

#time diary(?)#audrey/kellie's time diary #trian station au #fnaf au #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #cc afton #cc #crying child #cupidty william afton au #archangel micheal afton au

2 notes · View notes

oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

Moody and Gray - William Afton x Female Reader

Finale

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content

Also available on AO3

William Afton’s restaurant is closed.

It has been for serveral days, ever since the accident in the workroom. The owner is still recovering, but stable, out of any immediate danger. The springlocks had partially worked, preventing any major internal damage. But he’s going to be scarred for life, the imprints the unforgiving steel has left behind reaching from the base of his neck to his ankles.

You visit as soon as you’re allowed to. You wonder if you’re going to be bumping into family members. The wife. The children. But he’s alone when you slip inside the room. His color is better than the last time you’d seen him, that deathly pallor absent. A beard is starting to grow out. His neglected hair tousled and greasy looking. There are bandages on the arms that rest over the sheet and blanket. On his neck. That’s all you can see aside from the hospital gown. He’s almost completely wrapped up like a mummy.

His eyes are closed, his breathing even. You gently touch his hand, one of the few parts of him that had avoided any injury. A flutter of lashes. His gaze struggles to focus on you. “Moody.” A croak of sound. You know he’s on a lot of medication with sedative side effects. You drag a chair close to the bed. Talk about random things. Watch him fall back to sleep. Try to sort his hair into some semblance of order. Kiss the scratchy new growth of facial hair. Finally leave. Going back home to do what you’ve been doing since the accident. Staring. Pacing aimlessly. Crying. Forcing yourself to go through the motions of activities of daily living. Hygiene. Meals. Everything tastes like ash. You want William out of the hospital. Back in one of those silly purple suit vests in that stupid awful restaurant of his. You miss it. You miss him. You need him back.

***

The next visit you return to find William more alert.

There are get well cards cluttering every available surface. The nightstand. Bedside table. Windowsill. Some handmade. Cute children’s drawings. A variety of flowers decorate the remaining vacant spaces, their perfumed scents clashing in the air. Spring offerings. Tulips. Daisies. Lillies. The weather is warming nicely. You don’t need the cozy winter coat he’s gifted you anymore. A lightweight jacket now suffices. This garment is well worn, the sleeves fraying. You toy with those loose threads now, standing beside his bed.

“How are you feeling, Will?” You can’t resist reaching to fuss with his hair. At least it’s been washed and he’s shaved. Your fingers find his cheek and remain there.

“Better now that you’re here.” A small smile. You bend to kiss his mouth. “How’s my moody girl?”

“I miss you.” Another kiss. “I’ve been really worried about you.”

“I’m okay, Moody. Thanks to you.” His hand covers yours, trapping it against his cheek.

The door opens and you jerk back. Only the housekeeper. You tuck yourself into the corner while she mops the floor and empties the trash, smiling and nodding before she leaves.

“You’ve got a lot of people who want you to hurry up and get better.” You gesture to the cards and flowers as you make your way back to the bedside.

“I’m going to try to get out of here as soon as possible, believe me.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself too much, though. You’ll end up doing more harm than good if you don’t give yourself enough time to recover.”

“Are you going to be gentle with me, Moody?”

“To start with, anyway. We’ll see how it goes.” You bend to kiss Afton again. Lingering this time. A deep inhale. His fingers weaving in your hair. Tongue parting your lips. Oh, you’ve missed this. You feel him shift to sit up. Fumbling for the bed controls. It reminds you of that night in his car. The obvious frustration. A wince of pain when he reaches too far sobering you. “Will, enough.” Pressing gently against him. He scowls and sighs. You kiss away the lines. “You need more rest.”

“I need more you,” he argues.

“Rest,” you insist. “Heal. Then come back to me.”

The older man nods. You drag the chair back over and sit down, babbling about inconsequential topics. Reluctant to part from his side. He puts some awful morning talk show on the wall mounted television and you both roast the commentary. Give scathing reviews of the lunch tray he’s brought. He asks you to bring your Uno deck the next time you visit.

“I don’t want to leave, but I’m going to head out for now. I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promise.

“Thank you for this. It was…not unpleasant.” A more confident smile than he’d exhibited earlier.

“Mmm-hmm.” Grinning back at him. Kissing him again. A contented sigh when you part. You think you’ll sleep well tonight. Things feel almost normal.

Everything was going to be okay.

***

William Afton returns to work faster than anyone had predicted. Refusing to let any more time pass with the pizzeria’s doors closed. You see the lights on in his office and ascend the steel staircase. Knock before entering and close and lock the door behind you. For no particular reason. You aren’t expecting anything to happen. Just force of habit.

He looks up from the paperwork on his desk. “Moody.”

“Welcome back, Gray. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Well, very behind. I have to get payroll done. And then I’ve got to do inventory and…”

“Will, it’s your first day back. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard.” You move behind his desk. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, it’s alright. I can manage. I did want your opinion on something, though.”

“What?”

“What do you think about me coming over after work tonight?”

“I think that is a very, very good idea.” You would have suggested it if he hadn’t. “Do you have any more good ideas?” Your fingers trail over his tie.

He grins. “A fair few. But, they’re going to have to wait until later. I need to get this done.”

“Okay. Later.” You pout but relent, settling for a quick kiss before leaving his office.

***

You’re back in his office that afternoon.

“Will, can you come downstairs? Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who is it?”

“Just come with me.”

He follows you down the stairs, those long legs making short work of them. Close on your heels as you make your way though the employee restricted area and duck inside the kitchen.

A large group of the staff have gathered there. There’s a sheet cake on the counter. Purple lettering over white frosting welcoming the owner back. His eyes on your mouth when you take a bite of the slice you’ve cut. Your hand on his spine just above the buckle of his vest when no one’s paying attention to the guest of honor at the impromptu surprise party, the attendees dispersing as quickly as they had assembled. A last graze of knuckles when you part ways at the door, a promise for later.

“Did you organize that earlier?” Your boss has got you pressed against the outside of the building. A quick cigarette break just before close.

You nod. “People really missed you, Will. They love you. I love you,” you add softly. He’d been unconscious the last time you’d said it. Now there was nowhere to hide. The words just out there in the open. Underneath the sky. Interspersed in the cloud of smoke he exhales to the side. Cinders ground beneath his feet.

“I love you too, Moody.” His mouth on yours.

***

William Afton stands at the threshold of your apartment.

You twine your hands around his neck and pull his mouth down for a kiss before inviting him inside.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I want you.”

You’re only too willing to oblige. It’s been so long since you’d been intimate. He follows you into the bedroom. You reach for the light switch but he halts you, his fingers closing over your wrist.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for you to see me yet. The scars…I’m going to be honest with you, Moody. There are a lot of them and I wouldn’t blame you if…”

“They’re not going to change how I feel about you.”

A heavy sigh. He’s been worried about this, you think. You guide him in the direction of the bed. He sits on the edge to unlace his shoes before lying down beside you. You stroke his cheek, planting gentle kisses on his face.

“I almost lost you. I was so scared. I don’t even know how to exist without you in my life anymore.” You feel for his tie and he helps you loosen the knot. You unfasten his vest and then begin working on the buttons of his shirt. His breathing loud in the stillness. Nervously anticipating your reaction. Your fingers inside of that parted fabric, touching his chest. The sparse spread of hair. The indents where he’s been marked. Taut skin. Furrows. Lines. Circles. Strange patterns tattooing the familiar body. You begin kissing them. Making them your own. His breath escaping in a hiss. Your tongue mapping the places your lips have been. His fingers sinking into your hair.

“Need you, Will. Need you inside of me…” Your breath hot on his abdomen. Working on the fly of his pants. His hands impatiently moving under yours. Pushing you back. Underneath him now. Fingers dragging your panties down over one thigh, then the other. Off your body. Your legs spread open for him. His fingers dipping inside of your entrance.

“Oh, my God, Moody.” Your arousal spilling over him. Your mouth meeting his sloppy and wet. His cock replacing his fingers. You moan at the feel of him filling you, your head arching back, digging into the pillow. His mouth chases yours as he thrusts. “Being with you…you feel like home. My moody girl…Mine…” Rocking beneath him. Legs digging in. Every push releasing another gasp of pleasure. His fingers woven through yours, pushing them into the mattress. That sweet tight coil of pressure forming within you. Drawing tighter and tighter. Clenching around him. Pulling him deeper. “Moody…” The final incantation before the spell is completed. Unspooling, undone around him. The heat of his release filling you. Your hands still linked together.

***

Later. The lamp on the nightstand switched on. The rest of his clothing removed. Bare beside you. Tracing the injuries that had nearly stolen him from you. Pink marks on that alabaster skin. So many of them. You’ll learn the feel of all of them. With your fingers. Your lips. Your tongue. For now you’re content to have your head pillowed on his chest. Slotting your fingers through his. Admiring the way they look together.

“Moody.”

You hear the serious note in his voice. Your head lifts from the cradle of his pectoral muscle. You lean back until you’re reclining against the pillows. He rolls on his side. Your first glimpse of the scars on his back.

“I need to say something. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I just need to get this out.”

“Okay.” You’re a little uncertain. The gray eyes pierce you.

“I’ve been a terrible husband. And overall a pretty bad father, too. And I’m not blaming anyone but myself for those two facts. I got so caught up in work.” He shakes his head, pushing himself into a sitting position before continuing. “No. That’s too easy of an excuse.” Another deep inhale and exhale to steady nerves, to push through the rest of what he’s struggling to say. “The fact of the matter is, I didn’t want to be home. Things just didn’t feel right. Not the way I’d expected. For either of us. And we both just…stopped trying. Just accepted the failure. I believe in fulfilling obligations. I know I lacked on the emotional aspect, so I at least tried to ensure I was providing financially. Kind of a vicious cycle, really. Working too much, neglecting family, then working even more to make up for the neglect, and so on.

The thing is, Moody…I didn’t even realize how unhappy I was. Or care about how unhappy I was, I should say. Until I met you. And it made me want things. Makes me want things,” he amends. “You’ve made me realize what I could have. You’ve made me remember what it’s like to be happy, and I want more of that. In the future. With you. I want a future with you. I don’t want you to just be some mistress I keep on the side. I don’t want to hide you. I want to show you off. I want people to know that you’re mine. If I was a free man, would you have me, Moody? Would you be my wife?”

You’re stunned. Never in a million years would you have guessed that William Afton was going to tell you he wanted to build a life with you.

“I um…I was not expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know we can’t go on like this. It’s not fair to anyone involved.”

“Would you be asking if you hadn’t…”

“Almost died?” He supplies. You nod. “Yes. It might have taken me longer to come around to it, but yes. It certainly brought things into perspective in a hurry, though. Of course I’m going to still provide financially like I have been. Divide up assets. I don’t care about the house. She wants nothing to do with the restaurant. It’ll work itself out. What do you think, Moody?”

You lick your lips nervously. “I think there will be consequences. You saw how many people responded when you were in the hospital. You’re well known in the community. Respected. The restaurant has a reputation. You’re going to lose all of that if you openly leave her for me. Or even if you don't announce it but we get caught. It won’t be an uncontested divorce then. Even if she doesn’t actually want the restaurant she’ll legally be entitled to part of it. I know how much it means to you. I wouldn’t ask you to give that up. Not the respect, the reputation or any of that. You’d resent me if I cost you that.”

“I would never resent you.”

“You would. If you had to choose between having me or the restaurant…”

“I would choose you. Without question. Fuck the respect and reputation,” he growls.

“You’re going to throw everything away for some lousy waitress? Just give up everything you’ve worked so hard for? It doesn’t make sense, Will.”

“You are a pretty lousy waitress, I’ll grant you that.” He brushes your dropped bottom lip. “I’m teasing, Moody. But I’m dead serious about this. About you. I’m willing to take the risk. Just for the chance at a future with you. However bleak the odds are. When I was lying on the floor that day, all I could think of was how much I regretted not telling you how I felt. I needed you to know it. And I need to know if you want this, too.”

You swallow thickly. Pluck at the sheet beneath you. Chew your bottom lip. The last walls of reason and hesitation crumbling down. You do want it. “Yes. I do.”

“All in, Moody?”

“All in, Gray.”

***

The young woman enters the restaurant, pausing a moment to take it all in. The sights and sounds. People talking and laughing at rows of tables, inside booths. Arcade and pinball machines. Wooden balls careening down skee ball lanes. Plastic balls in the pit jostling together when a child dives in. There’s a hostess standing nearby, waiting patiently, a middle aged woman with a friendly grin on her features.

“Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria! Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Afton.”

“Which one? There are two.”

“Uh…I’m not sure. I have a job interview for a waitress position.”

“You’ll be wanting Mrs. Afton then. I’ll go tell her.”

The girl nods, waiting. The glass doors of the entrance open and close behind her. A family with several small children enters. They immediately focus on the nearby prize machines. Stickers, candy, plastic trinkets. Everything themed after the restaurant’s mascots.

You weave your way through the dining room, noticing the potential new hire hovering nervously near the main entrance. Poor kid. She looks scared to death. First job, maybe. You smile and greet her. “Come with me. I’ll give you a little tour, talk you through the job.”

You guide her around the restaurant, noticing William’s left his office. He’s leaning over the railing, forearms braced against it, hands folded.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s the owner. So, what do you think? Want to give it a shot?”

She nods. “Do you like working here?”

“It has its good and bad qualities, like anything else. Mainly good.” Your eyes meet Afton’s briefly before your attention returns to the adolescent beside you. “When can you start?”

“Um, I can do Saturday.”

“Great. We’ll be busy. You’ll get plenty of practice in. Don’t worry, I’ll be here. I’ll make sure your first day isn’t too terrible.” You smile reassuringly. “Let’s go get your official shirt. Black pants are the other requirement.”

You lead the teenager back to the entrance clutching her uniform shirt. “Try to be on time. The boss is kind of a stickler for that,” you add. She nods, still a little wide eyed, then skitters through the door. Yeah, you were definitely going to keep that one under your wing. You nod to the hostess. Such a relief to find someone who seemed like they wanted to stay. College girl was long gone. You return to the dining room, ascending the steel staircase.

“Hello, Mr. Afton.” You join him at the railing, resting your hands on the metal surface.

“Hello, Mrs. Afton.” He straightens. “Who was that? New employee?”

“Yup. Waitress. High school kid. She’s nervous, but I’m gonna keep an eye on her. Make sure no one gives her any shit.”

“Good.” His hand slides over to cover yours. “Want to go take a break, Moody? Maybe get a bit of fresh air?”

“Hmmm,” you hum thoughtfully. “Do I want to go on break with you…”

His lips by your ear. “Unless you want to spend it in my office instead. A new box of shirts came in. Maybe I can help you find one in your size…”

“Will!” You hiss, mock scandalized, but you have to admit your body is definitely interested. You step back from the railing. The animatronics are beginning another performance below. Lots of noise. A good time for it. You see William smirk. Thinking the same thing, no doubt.

You follow your husband to his office.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you

38 notes · View notes

runelocked · 6 months

Text

WILLIAM’S PROUD SMILE COULD HAVE FROZEN HELL OVER. For Sammy, maybe this was Hell - he certainly intended to make it so for the young boy. His only witness, physically untouchable because of the suspicion it would raise, mentally and emotionally devastated by just a minute or two of conversation. That odd buzz he’d got from Charlie’s death is back, muted, because violence here is out of the question . . . But it still feels good. After a horribly long day, exhausting interviews with police and parents and dealing with a grieving Henry, William actually feels good again. Christ, maybe he should be thanking the boy for this !

WHY SHOULD A MAN HIDE WHEN HE KNOWS HE’S IN CONTROL ? For a minute, he’d been worried, but he realizes now that he’d had nothing to fear. Had forgotten how wonderfully receptive children could be to threats - I can’t tell him. William couldn’t be more pleased. Has to remind himself that to the rest of the world, he has appearances to keep up, and so he moves closer, trapping the young boy in a deceivingly gentle hug. Ruffles his hair, keeps the boy’s wet face away from the delicate springlock suit. The last thing he needs is another set of scars.

“ It’s alright, son. It’s alright. I knew you’d come to the right decision. You’ve got to be strong for your father, don’t you ? After all, you’re all he has left. ”

His hold grows more restrictive, but his voice doesn’t let up from its quiet, mocking solemnity. Hopes the boy understands the threat.

“ And if something happened to you because you started spreading silly stories, I think it would kill him. “

CONTINUED. / @curseofbreadbear

#(( SORRY IT'S SO MUCH SHORTER.... and sorry it took so long. blame my urge to murder william in this thread fbskjdfnk ))#(oxo) first witness: william & sammy.#a; curseofbreadbear #(ui) original: petrichor.#tw violence #tw threat #tw child harm #tw child murder #tw child death #tw death #tw murder #tw grief #tw manipulation #tw emotional distress #tw emotional manipulation

2 notes · View notes

starry-skies-116 · 2 years

Text

Not me speedrunically writing Roleswap/Fateswap AU because I’ve been struggling with how to write a Roleswap for a long time until I discovered the Deathswap Aftons AU:

In this AU, only Liz and Evan’s deaths- and by extension, their fates- are swapped, and that already substantially changes a LOT of things.

In this AU, William designed and finished Circus Baby at the same time Fredbear and Springbonnie were finished- 1983. Henry fuckin loved and respected the shit out of him for it, obviously (we love Henry Emily in this household and establishment).

Liz REALLY wanted to go see Circus Baby, as usual- yet her father knew there were unsafe features in Circus Baby (meant for harvesting and researching further into Remnant), and thus forbade her from going near her.

Michael at this time teased and bullied Evan a lot with his friends, as usual, and Evan entered a spiraling depression with horrible episodes of psychosis and hallucinatory nightmares while still trying his best to remain strong, to take care of and protect Elizabeth, even though it was becoming increasingly clear to her that her brother was not okay. She resented Michael for exacerbating her brother’s worsening mental state.

One day, Evan decided to cheer Elizabeth up- he went to go see Circus Baby himself since he overheard her trying to persuade her father multiple times to no avail to ‘play with her’. He fell for the ice cream bait, believing it to be a feature of the animatronic designed for interacting with children, and as a result, got himself brutally scooped and trapped inside the animatronic, bleeding to death with a fatal stomach wound, as well as scars on his leg and an arm severed.

William was rageful and essentially in shock, as devastated as he could be- Charlie was murdered outside of Fredbear’s that same year, and Elizabeth and Michael fell out as a result of a major argument they had over Evan going ‘missing’. It was essentially a screaming match- things being thrown, tears being shed, the two siblings hurling insults and slurs and accusations at each other. Michael has been bullying Elizabeth with his friends ever since, and Elizabeth in turn has been pranking him and framing him for things he didn’t do just so she could spite him.

Michael had also put blonde hair dye in Elizabeth’s shampoo five days before her birthday party for her tenth birthday, which earned him an afternoon of screaming and a temper tantrum that damaged his eardrums. Elizabeth had also begun to carry Evan’s Fredbear plush everywhere with her as a keepsake of sorts to bring her comfort and feel like she was under Evan’s protection, in addition to the butterflies that would visit her every now and again whilst she sulked and pondered in sorrow.

On her tenth birthday, she had the party at Fredbear’s. Michael- similar to the original AU- with his friends, decided to prank Elizabeth. They picked her up and shoved her unceremoniously in Fredbear’s mouth, laughing at her crying and struggling to worm and wiggle her way out. The springlocks then failed as a result of the moisture from her tears, the jaws clamping down on her and crushing her upper torso. She died tragically in the hospital five days later, and the incident came to be known as the Bite of ‘85. The MCI incident took place that same year

The rest is similar from here on out- Evan’s spirit is barely conscious and resting inside Circus Baby, attempting to recover his strength, only granting Circus Baby fragments of his personality and his memories- she’s mostly controlled by William’s artificial intelligence. The rest of the events of SL proceed as usual.

Evan’s personality isn’t that of OG Circus Baby, I should point out- she behaves like an adult woman with a childish and naive aspect to her demeanor in Sister Location. His previous personality had been replaced entirely by someone strict, cold, harsh, deliberate, judgemental and stern in nature- blunt and cynical in speech, and ruthless and indifferent to the suffering of others in both tact and execution. He does have moments of emotion, kindness, empathy and pain when recalling his trauma and past- though he doesn’t recognize Michael at all (nor does he mistake him for William).

After the events of Pizzeria Simulator, Evan’s soul wanders the lands, searching for a compatible vessel to fuse souls with. He fuses souls with a boy named Gregory Anderson before the latter’s birth, who shares the same traumatic past OG Vanessa does: parents divorced, involved in a custody battle and manipulated by his dad to falsely testify, mom proceeded to oof herself right afterwards.

As a result of the fusion, just like OG Elizabeth/Vanessa, Gregory/Evan, reincarnated into a new form manually, does gain two new Remnant Crests, which grants him immortality as well as an enhanced constitution and superhuman abilities noticeably beyond that of an average human, yet stunted emotional development: just like OG Vanessa, he neither cried nor laughed as a child, and only showed biological or primalmost emotions on the most basic levels- and even then, those emotions were suppressed. Gregory, however, does show basic levels of sociability and emotivity going into his twenties, such as preferences, fears, peeves and a tendency to adhere to peer pressure due to being manipulated and tricked/mistreated in both his past life and this life.

The same events proceed as usual- not recognizing his dad, his father manipulates him and mind hacks him into doing his dirty work, and he does all the evil shit Vanny did- all the suspicious emails, making a costume with the fake fur he bought online, the therapy sessions, et cetera.

As for what happened back then? William was devastated, so he recreated/reincarnated his daughter into a new body the exact same way OG Gregory was created in my AU- the blue blood, the bionic and chemically altered organs infused with complex and advanced machinery and supernatural essences including remnant, the unique physiology and her status as a Creation/artificial lifeform, and her alien heart of raw and infinite power and its connection to Zanado all remain as it did for the OG AU Gregory.

There is one key difference, though- the runes on the back of Elizabeth’s/Vanessa’s neck surrounding the glyph/crest are the same, however, the physical manifestation of her Remnant Crest is a scarab beetle, not a triskelion. It is also a barcode used for scanning her identity and scouring what little personal information she has stored in her database.

Same shit goes down- he runs tests on Elizabeth, seals her into stasis and stores her slumbering body underground in a secret room in the SL facility. She’s recovered by mechanics several years later and is shocked awake, slowly regaining her consciousness and her memories. She also accidentally kills the technicians trying to shut her down/kill her, just as OG Gregory did, and recovers her memories via writing them down on sticky notes. Her sole goal is to reunite her family, find them a new home, and secure themselves happy and healthy futures in the world where they can serve the greater good and humanity as was once promised to her.

Patient 46’s and 71’s interests are switched in this AU- Patient 46, Vanessa/Elizabeth, likes flowers, doesn’t like candy, prefers the sunshine, etc. whilst Gregory/Evan prefers the dark, likes candy, hates the pungent smell of flowers, etc.

Same shit in Security Breach goes down- Glammike helps and assists Vanessabeth, they free GregEvan and beat their dad’s sorry ass, all is well. Vanessa in my AU also meets the missing kids of the Pizzaplex, still all alive and well.

More details to come soon!! :D

#vanessasbeth/vanbeth #fnaf Vanessa/vanny #Michael afton #glammike #Evan Afton (cc/bv)#GregEvan #crying child fnaf #crying child #fnaf security breach #security breach fate swap au #aftons fateswap au

15 notes · View notes

lockedtowers · 6 months

Text

the funniest part of (at least my) characterization of william is that if you met him before evan died, while he was still working w henry, back in like the late 70s/early 80s, it'd just be like 'oh yeah, that dude who has a weird thing about rabbits, we caught him teaching his kid about robots, and recording his voice talking to his kid about how he's not alone and he's his friend, he spends way too many hours alone in his co-owner's office but they both own the business so that's not weird at all. strange how he talks about his business partner more than his actual wife.'

then evan dies because of michael's lack of judgement (he literally shoved evans head into fre/dbear's mouth without thinking once, which granted i doubt there was a sp/ringlock failure before that, i actually position the springlock failure that causes william's scars at the same time as the bite, freddy's springlock fails and crushes evan's head and william gets sp/ringlocked the first time trying to get evan out, and michael has to see all that knowing he's at fault for half of it, which evidently bc of the security log, he still fucking makes jokes about like he lives off of dark humor despite his guilty conscious) and its like, he'll find digs to throw in against michael, he gives an eerie aura but still oddly feels safe enough that f/azbear's business takes off, despite the rumors, despite the disappearances, parents still somehow feel safe enough to leave their kids around him, 'he has his own kids, he's suffered the loss of a kid, he almost lost his older kid, he wouldn't want anything to happen to anyone elses kid', some people are aware somethings up but people don't believe the people who do speak up against william.

like this man was semi normal at one point (not like a good person, i wouldn't go there, he killed michaels mom when michael was little little, granted that's my canon actual canon like its not confirmed but it is implied all three kids in actual canon have the same mom, that just doesnt make sense to me bc who tf could put up w william that long lbr anyways) and it didn't even cross his mind that he would have been able to bring evan back until he saw charlie's spirit possess the puppet. then it was like 'i can become immortal and bring my son back' not fully realizing his son was already possessing the animatronic that essentially killed him, they retired f/redbear and locked him away in the back immediately after what happened, he never got to see anything until he put cassidy's body in that suit, and by then he just assumed cassidy was the only spirit there,

and it's just, it's just interesting to look at the kind of extreme jump in william from before evan's death to after, because obviously the death of his child triggered something in his head. and of course, like yeah TSE isn't canon to the games but you can play the different canons off of each other, so if he has scars from a prior s/pringtrap incident, the most logical placements for that is either when he's working on the suits with henry, or when evan's accident happens, and evans accident sort of makes more sense with the game implications of he only starts killing anyone after evans death, like his son died, he had a near death accident from the suit, he became extremely careful with the suit afterwards but wears it everytime he goes to kill someone, which tells me that his point of trauma means he was in the suit at the time.

and none of this excuses anything he does he's horrible terrible nobody is allowed to excuse him, but the reasoning behind is just something that needs to be figured out for characterization sake, his brain was never the same the moment evan died and it was not just the trauma he experienced seeing his son basically dying in his best friend/lover's animatronic, if he was essentially dying at the same time but he survived, and his son didn't, that does something to your brain. on top of the way the spring locks go into the skin, they probably got the suit off before it fully damaged his head, but at least one lock probably did get william's head, if not more, and the damage he would have gotten from that too would honestly explain a lot, because while my characterization is that he already had gotten to the limit and killed his first wife before he started any type of murdering, he loved his kids before michael caused evans death, he was a shitty person but still a man who loved his kids, in actual canon they change his motive so much it doesn't make sense anymore, and just. yeah. idk. i have a migraine again but like i gave reasons he would hit that mark early on, it was hinted at when he was younger and just devulged with evans death, but with how many versions, even going as far in f/azbear f/rights to imply williams not even to blame for being a child murderer and that a demon in the form of his fucking daughter in another universe was controlling his actions and making him a murderer then abandoning him, like there's not a set reason there's never a set reason, but the most logical reason i can come up with with context clues is just evans death and the first springlock incident coincided, and it caused a brain injury that turned him into what he became.

#you have something that belongs to me | references #i need to make an actual headcanon tag but not rn lol #out.

0 notes