Utterly Innocuous Horror Attraction

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[funbonded]

WILLIAM AFTON / BURNTRAP 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 : "That's such a big, dirty, rotten, filthy lie...but it has class."

ೀ⋆｡˚ : IT HAPPENED ONENIGHT . . .

⋆ . ―    ❝      Is   it   ?   Oh-hoooo   ,   how   fitt-tti-ng   for   you   .❞    𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧   𝐚𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞   𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬   ,   𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫   𝐭𝐨𝐨-𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲   𝐚   𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐨𝐧𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭   𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐬   𝐨𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐩   𝐨𝐟   𝐜𝐲𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦   .   Two   in   the   same   ,   performing   with   something   MORE   SINISTER   boils   beneath   the   surface   .   Show   rabbit   &&   showbear   .   Creator   &&   creation   .

Still   ,   there   is   a   lightness   to   be   found   .   It   had   not   completely   corroded   between   them   .   It   was   still   in   the   funtime   panda's   CORE   to   entertain   &&   find   joy   in   jest   .   &&   William   was   still   his   master   .   Though   he   resents   him   &&   at   the   same   time   must   comply   to   his   programming   .   Hat   raises   &&   falls   back   atop   his   head   ,   ears   jostle   &&   he   bows   .   ❞        

 ―✘ .   / @burnt-basement-bunny  (\_/)   *

[burnt-basement-bunny]

This is the closest thing William's had to a polite conversation with his creation in...well, he'd rather not count the exact number of years. Too depressing by far.

"Yes, I was rather pleasantly surprised by how enthusiastic the company was about my proposed attraction. I suppose, given the existence of the cosplay area, it's in-character for the powers that be."

Of course it's his own attraction he's talking about. Jokes about him being his own favorite subject aside, it's one of the easier topics to discuss. He'd never shocked Funfred at that attraction. No one had been killed at that attraction.

He doesn't notice his intact ear flicking in time with Funfred's hat. He'd enjoyed working on that hat back in the day. Back before...anyway.

It occurs to William that he ought to give the panda a chance to talk about his own work. Not only is it in accordance with the parameters of conversation, it's useful for William to fill in the gaps in his knowledge.

"And what of yours? How did you get that one established?"

[burnt-basement-bunny]

(continued from here)

@stupidbcy

Apologies are not William's strong suit. Frankly, they weren't even before he'd spent decades cut off from the entire world. His skills have not improved.

Assembling the words into something that made sense after checking to see if such an effort would even be wanted had been...well, not the hardest thing he'd done, but certainly not the easiest.

It's almost a relief to be talking about any other subject. Or...oh. They aren't. He probably should have put more effort into that initial greeting. William's ears bend down. Only slightly, though. He's aware it's something of a tell and he's done quite enough of that already. He needs to be better. He needs to do better. Is he supposed to apologize for the tone as well or-

Oh thank goodness. Subject change. The attraction, right.

"Ah, yes. It's quite the...display. Still, I managed to wrangle some creative input on the decorations. The 'lore' is a work in progress - they don't want a 'machine' writing for them after that business with the Storyteller."

William gets notably more animated talking about the attraction, even pointing to a suitably thematic desk fan he'd made himself. The blades are painted to resemble Balloon Boy's propeller, but mangled and painted in another layer to look charred. (The mangling and fake-charring had felt more satisfying than William is keen to admit.)

It looks like Michael has questions about this. Hopefully about this. William waits exactly ten seconds before responding to the cut-off 'Did you' with "Did I what?" He'd like to know what he stands accused of before determining how guilty of it he may or may not be.

Little friend? Oh good heavens, did Glitchtrap do something? William moves to lean against a clean part of the wall in anticipation of the latest problem he'll have to explain is technically not directly his fault this time. Also because standing for too long hurts a bit and there's no reason to remain at attention if Michael's going to wander about the place anyway.

His pupils grow smaller in lieu of having eyelids to narrow. Why would Glitchtrap not know-oh Michael means Jamie! That makes immensely more sense. "You've met Jamie, then. Yes, they know. Did they say something to give you the impression otherwise?"

William will eventually follow if Michael gets too far out of earshot. Besides, he wants to see how he reacts to the life-sized replica Foxy endoskeleton with the fake flesh sitting on its little plastic boat, going fishing with his own detached hook tied to the end of the line. William posed that one himself.

[stupidbcy]

☆   •   °   .   𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦   𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥   𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦   𝘵𝘰   𝘴𝘢𝘺   𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴   𝘰𝘧   𝘩𝘪𝘴   𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦   𝘪𝘴   𝘢   𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥   𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺,   and   admission   of   guilt   all   in   one.   but   at   this   point   he   knows   better   than   to   think   his   father   would   be   such   a   piss-poor   liar.

❝   they   were   insistent   that   I   not   come   down   here   in   the   first   place.   that   they   had   no   idea   what   I   was   talking   about   and   that   I   ought   to   leave   you   be.   ❞   he   explains   with   a   distinct   lack   of   enthusiasm.   ❝   and   unlike   you,   they're   a   very   poor   liar.   ❞

not   that   his   distain   for   them   came   from   their   attempts   to   protect   william   from   him   ...   𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,   𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴   𝘢   𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦.   it   was   more   the   fact   that   out   of   everyone,   his   father   chose   to   bestow   mercy   on   them!   some   random   individual   he's   never   met   before.   they   didn't   look   like   elizabeth   or   henry   or   𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦   michael   could   𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺   believe   would   insight   such   compassion   from   his   father.

𝘢𝘯𝘥   𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴   𝘪𝘯   𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦   𝘯𝘰𝘵   𝘴𝘰   𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭   𝘸𝘢𝘺,   𝘩𝘦   𝘸𝘢𝘴   𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴.   because   if   william   afton   had   the   ability   to   change   all   along,   it   meant   then   that   no   one   was   worth   changing   for.   not   evan,   not   elizabeth,   no   his   mother,   and   most   certainly   not   him.

mike   takes   a   moment   to   roll   his   shoulders,   joints   popping   unnaturally   as   he   snorts   at   the   entire   scenario.   what   a   joke,   dark   eyes   continue   their   scanning   around   the   attraction   until   he   sees   a   touch   of   the   foxy   display   ...   and   he   fails   to   keep   the   genuine   excitement   from   his   eyes   as   they   widen   for   half   a   second.

𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥   𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵   𝘣𝘦   ...   𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘺   .ᐣ   --   no,   mike!   focus!   schooling   his   expression   he   tears   his   sights   away       (   𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦   𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨   𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬   𝘪𝘯   𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺   𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥   𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺   )     &   even   still   he   wonders,   if   the   sight   of   the   fox   didn't   anger   him   then   maybe   ...   𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦   𝘩𝘦   𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵   𝘪𝘵.ᐣ   the   soft   bellied   part   of   him   wonders,   hopes,   silently.   𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘭𝘺.

❝   are   --   ahem   --   are   there   any   others   here   ?   ❞   he   prods,   leaning   in   no   such   way   that   suggests   him   being   nonchalant   about   the   possibility   of   a   foxy   appearance.       (   𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺,   𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦   𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴   𝘪𝘵   𝘵𝘰   𝘣𝘦   𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳   𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮   𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹   𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥   𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘺   𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯   𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥   )       gaze   occasionally   flickering   back   to   william   with   marked   distrust.

❝   and   the   -   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴,   here,   at   the   plex   --   am   I   to   believe   those   weren't   𝘺𝘰𝘶   .ᐣ   ❞   it's   why   he   came   to   investigate   in   the   first   place.   And   even   before   william's   spoken   it's   clear   he   doesn't   believe   whatever   excuse   is   about   to   be   shilled   out,   in   some   attempt   to   placate   his   son.

ready   to   catch   him   in   another   lie   --   was   he   hoping   to   prey   on   that   soft   small   part   of   him   that   just   wanted   his   father?   apologize   and   feign   tolerance   and   michael   would   fall   in   line   again?   𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦   𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵   .ᐣ

[burnt-basement-bunny]

Oh, bother. Jamie tried, William will give them that much. He's actually quite flattered that they went to such an effort for him. Other people coming to his aid isn't something he has reason to deserve expect much of anymore.

"Jamie was likely trying to protect me, then. Or they simply didn't want the building set on fire." The lion's share of that particular event had been Henry's, but Michael had participated. Although...who had it been at Fazbear's Fright? William hadn't been in any state to confirm if the wiring really was that awful or if foul play had been involved. Regardless, this building is best not set ablaze, thank you very much.

He catches his son's attention splitting. Muscles by the edge of William's jaw twitch in what would be a smile had he more face. Capital, Michael likes the Foxy prop. William didn't actually know his son was alive when he set up that one. But it's good to see his work appreciated, even if the person doing the appreciating is...well.

If only said person could stop being so vague. "Any other what? Decorations? Animatronics? I believe we've a Foxy somewhere upstairs, if you're looking for something more active than a prop." William has never met said fox and doesn't intend to, lest the pirate have some connection to the original that proves problematic.

But he'd almost rather chance a meeting with Foxy than try to explain the 'disappearances.' His account of what happened isn't exactly easy to believe. He wouldn't believe it if he hadn't been there. "No, they were not me. They were the work of a different 'little friend.' One connected to me but whom I did not create or control."

If Michael had only come a bit earlier, William would have been quite content to throw Glitchtrap under the proverbial bus. But now that he's defeated, now that he's helpless...William has to protect him. Who else will?

"That individual is no longer a threat. If I am to tell you more, I must first know: Are you going to kill them anyway?"

[burnt-basement-bunny]

(continued from here)

@stupidbcy

Apologies are not William's strong suit. Frankly, they weren't even before he'd spent decades cut off from the entire world. His skills have not improved.

Assembling the words into something that made sense after checking to see if such an effort would even be wanted had been...well, not the hardest thing he'd done, but certainly not the easiest.

It's almost a relief to be talking about any other subject. Or...oh. They aren't. He probably should have put more effort into that initial greeting. William's ears bend down. Only slightly, though. He's aware it's something of a tell and he's done quite enough of that already. He needs to be better. He needs to do better. Is he supposed to apologize for the tone as well or-

Oh thank goodness. Subject change. The attraction, right.

"Ah, yes. It's quite the...display. Still, I managed to wrangle some creative input on the decorations. The 'lore' is a work in progress - they don't want a 'machine' writing for them after that business with the Storyteller."

William gets notably more animated talking about the attraction, even pointing to a suitably thematic desk fan he'd made himself. The blades are painted to resemble Balloon Boy's propeller, but mangled and painted in another layer to look charred. (The mangling and fake-charring had felt more satisfying than William is keen to admit.)

It looks like Michael has questions about this. Hopefully about this. William waits exactly ten seconds before responding to the cut-off 'Did you' with "Did I what?" He'd like to know what he stands accused of before determining how guilty of it he may or may not be.

Little friend? Oh good heavens, did Glitchtrap do something? William moves to lean against a clean part of the wall in anticipation of the latest problem he'll have to explain is technically not directly his fault this time. Also because standing for too long hurts a bit and there's no reason to remain at attention if Michael's going to wander about the place anyway.

His pupils grow smaller in lieu of having eyelids to narrow. Why would Glitchtrap not know-oh Michael means Jamie! That makes immensely more sense. "You've met Jamie, then. Yes, they know. Did they say something to give you the impression otherwise?"

William will eventually follow if Michael gets too far out of earshot. Besides, he wants to see how he reacts to the life-sized replica Foxy endoskeleton with the fake flesh sitting on its little plastic boat, going fishing with his own detached hook tied to the end of the line. William posed that one himself.

[giftgvr]

⟡ — ❝ I'm a 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑. Staying alive is my 𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘛𝘠. ❞

#𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐆𝐕𝐑 featuring an extremely canon divergent (android) Charlie Emily! ˎˊ˗

© Template by candyredmusings!

[burnt-basement-bunny]

" I see you've made yourself at home. " he comments warmly, taking in the little wind up rabbits on William's desk.

a light smile twitches at the corners of his lips as he carefully scoops one up to inspect it. there's a certain measure of care that Henry always had when handling animatronics, and it seems that's remained true throughout everything. that glint of joy remains in his eyes, the one before he'd always turn to him and comment in earnest about how much he enjoyed one feature or never thought to add another.

but that was a long time ago . . .

" may I? " henry asks, fingers hovering idly over the crank for the small thing. hazel eyes turned to him and watching him carefully, William may look different now but that didn't mean Henry didn't take note of everything. as always.

Even now, it's the last tone he expects to hear. Given the manner in which the two of them parted, the reasons for that parting, it baffles William that Henry willingly speaks to him in such a- a kind manner. Or that he speaks to William at all.

"Yes, I. Enjoy making things, and I've enough metal to spare to make one of these every now and then."

Each of the rabbits has something unique about it. One is upright and bipedal, one sitting on its haunches, another standing on all fours, and a fourth appears to be sleeping. They're the result of multiple iterations each, with William 'recycling' any failed draft until he gets the right result.

"Yes, go right ahead." The one Henry's currently holding is one of William's earlier pieces. It's fairly simple and will 'walk' on all fours for a short distance if wound.

[hnry223]

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ! . . .

° ˈ· • [ 𝙳𝙾𝙲 ] - [ 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳 ] - [ 𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 ] - [ 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝚂 ] - [ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 ] • ·ˈ°

WARNING: this blog will contain themes of depression , violence , gore , paranoia , grief , derealization , delusions , self-destructive tendencies , suicidal ideation & attempts , alcoholism , child death and other canon typical subjects for the series ! all will be tagged ! imagery of fire & religious undertones present. a study on what makes a monster , the fallen hero complex , & morally grey solutions .

indie multiverse & multiship 𝘏𝘌𝘕𝘙𝘠 𝘌𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘠 from 𝐅𝐍𝐀𝐅. terminated by 𝙲𝙾𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙴 ! ( 25, they / them ) - low activity . 18+ only. crossover & oc friendly .

° ˈ· • [ 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 ] - [ 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 ] - [ 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙶 ] • ·ˈ°

. . . 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝘜𝘕𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘌 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 ❞

[bitessback]

𝐚𝐭   𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭,   𝐚𝐥𝐥   𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞   𝐜𝐚𝐧   𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫   𝐢𝐬   𝐚   𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬   𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠.   how   Fredbear   and   his   power   works   is   something   beyond   their   understanding   --   in   fact   he   always   avoided   that   question,   gave   non-answers.   ﹠   far   be   it   for   Jamie   to   press   him   when   he   was   helping   them   in   the   first   place.   blinking   owlishly   for   a   moment,   their   own   surprise   at   not   knowing   a   thing   about   the   aforementioned   bear   strikes   them   --   𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩   𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵   𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯   𝘵𝘰   𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸.

❝   I   -   I   dunno.   he   doesn't   talk   about   it,   maybe   you   can   ask   him.   maybe   I'm   just   not   asking   the   right   questions?   ❞   one   thing   was   certain   though,   the   old   bear   was   nothing   short   of   kind.   𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞   to   their   plight.   scooping   them   up   into   his   arms   when   they   were   so   cruelly   tossed   back   to   the   void.   drying   their   eyes   and   letting   them   weep   into   his   fur   for   as   long   as   needed.   they   felt   safe   with   him,   at   ease.

❝   that's   ...   that's   actually   a   really   good   idea!   I   hadn't   thought   of   that!   ❞   𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧,   that   foolhardy   hope   blooms   in   their   tired   eye   and   ignites   a   smile.   reaffirms   their   certainty   for   this   lofty   goal.   though   there   was   always   the   question   of   timelines,   Jamie   dying   should   reset   it   all   like   it   usually   does.   𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺   𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 !   what's   another   death   to   add   to   the   tally   if   it   meant   saving   everyone!

❝   what   would   happen   to   ...   ❞   it's   something   Jamie   had   assumed,   something   Fredbear   didn't   bother   to   correct.   however   incorrect   it   was.   they   don't   finish   the   thought,   mulling   it   over   as   they   bring   up   their   watch   and   type   in   a   short   message.

❝   we can ask him when we get there. worst case is he says no and sends you back here, but I've found it's better to ask him these things in person. ❞ they were far more persuasive when they could plead up at him with that one remaining doe eye.

❝ Fredbear   said   that   whenever   I'm   ready   to   go   back   I   can   just   message   him   and   he'd   have   me   there   in   a   jiffy.   we'll   be   starting   in   the   void   and   he   ...   well,   I   don't   know   how   he'll   feel   about   seeing   someone   else   with   me   but   if   -   if   you   think   it'll   work.   if   it   could   help   them,   help   you,   then   ...   then   we   have   to   try!   ❞

there's   that   old   altruistic   streak   of   theirs,   stern   and   sure   of   their   attempts   at   protection   and   justice   --   and   just   as   compassionate   for   strangers   as   the   Emily's   themselves.

[burnt-basement-bunny]

Bother. So Jamie doesn't know either. Well, hopefully the bear will. Not that William's terribly thrilled about being around another large, supernatural bear. Claim what is left of - Prior experience has not been kind in that regard.

Would William's past self listen to the present one? Yes. Once he hears, in detail, precisely how much he has left to lose, then he'd have no reason not to. Of course...William hadn't always been a reasonable man back then.

Bah. Enough of this. He has to try, and that's all there is to it.

"We'll just have to ask him about the...results of success, then. Go ahead and contact Fredbear, if you..."

The what. All right. There's a Void now. Sure. Good a place to start as any. "The Void. All right. It's certainly worth a shot." It's not like William can refuse to help now that the possibility of him helping exists. He owes it to his victims.

He's not sure how long he'll be able to last even after he becomes someone different (assuming success and assuming that's the result of success). But then, William might not have to. He's 89 years old. If he and Jamie do manage to fix everything, the William Afton he becomes in the present day might just be dead. And...in whatever place people go when they don't murder children. That wouldn't be so bad.

[bitessback]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆   𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒐𝒏   𝒊𝒏   𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇, blinking owlishly before realizing themselves.   averting   their   own   gaze   as   they   selfishly   take   what   he   offers.   a   moment   of   warmth   to   try   and   thaw   the   frigid   feeling   that   there   was   no   place   they   belonged. ( but   maybe,   for   a   moment,   they   could   belong   𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦   𝘢𝘯𝘥   𝘯𝘰𝘸. )

❝   I   ...   I liked   talking   to   you   too.   ❞ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨. aching to run to him with every delightful thing they find, every success, every hard problem. ﹠ they would if they didn't fear to bother him with how often they'd like to darken his doorway. [ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘. ] light smile twitching 'pon their lips as they dry their eye.

❝ it was   nice, having you there, it ... it made everything easier.   ❞      muttered more than spoken, an admission of their own. enjoyed prepping their meals in the mornings too.   like   the   love   of   peeling   an   orange   for   your   friend   in   the   schoolyard as you both chatter away   :   𝘐   𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵   𝘶𝘴   𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩   𝘵𝘰   𝘦𝘢𝘵   𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 !

but   there   comes   the   roadblock,   once   again   halting   all   of   Jamie's   well   intentioned   self-sacrificial   blunders.   desperation   would   have   their   stubborn   bleeding   heart   weeping   itself   dry   at   his   feet,   for   a   man   who   would   sidestep   around   their   corpse   without   a   second   thought.   a   lump   begins   forming   in   their   throat,   some   obnoxious   defiance   --   they   would   blame   it   on   their   exhaustion   as   they   swallow   thickly. [ an angry man's voice screaming, a cruel lesson learned : 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ! ]

❝   there   has   to   be   a   way   to   get   you   to   understand   sooner,   before   --   ❞

---   𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞   𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠-𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝,   𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞   𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.   they   don't   want   the   children   to   suffer   and,   selfishly,   they   don't   want   William   to   suffer   either.   white   knuckled   in   their   grasp   to   try   and   ensure   he   lives   happily   --   that   he   is   loved   and   safe   --   even   if   it   meant   they   would   never   know   who   he   was.   didn't   care   how   many   forms   or   alternates   became   the   last   things   they   saw.   blades   stuck   between   their   ribs,   but   they'd   die   with   that   fervent   defiance   of   loving   him   in   spite   of   it.

❝   I   -   I   made   a   deal.   ❞         ❛   𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦   𝘢   𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭   ❜   is   being   generous,   they   practically   begged   Fredbear   to   let   them   try.   and   while   he   was   hesitant,   𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞   even   to   try   to   get   them   to   give   it   up   after   their   first   death,   𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭   ...   the   only   thing   more   certain   and   stubborn   than   Afton's   determination   was   Jamie's   bleeding   heart.   ❝   F   --   Fredbear,   he   let   me   try.   ❞

❛   𝘩𝘰𝘸   𝘥𝘰   𝘸𝘦   𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦   𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 ?   ❜   --   If   only   they   knew.   struggling   through   doing   everything   they   can   to   thwart   Afton's   attempts   was   exhausting.   of   course,   who   would   know   better   about   what   Afton   would   do   but   Afton   himself!   ...   Perhaps,   if   they   plea   with   Fredbear   ...

❝   I   --   I've   just   been   getting   jobs   at   the   locations,   trying   to   keep   an   eye   on   you.   Trying   to   talk   to   you,   to talk   you   out   of   it.   N'so   far   it's   been   --   ❞      their   hand   grasps   at   their   throat,   the   latest   end   was   rather   brutal,   still   vivid   in   their   mind.   yet   it   was   oddly   comforting   to   gurgle   and   sputter   out   while   he   let   them   down   slowly.

...   𝘯𝘰,   𝘯𝘰   𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴   𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺   𝘯𝘰𝘵   𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.   ❝   --   it's   been   pretty ...   unsuccessful.   ❞      they   shrink   into   themselves,   certainly   they've   scurried   about   keeping   the   kids   away   from   him   but   it's   not   like   they   could   play   keep   away   forever.

❝   maybe   if   I   a   --   ask   Fredbear   he   can   send   you   with   me   somehow   a -- and   you   can   help ?   ❞   they'd   just   need   to   make   sure   not   to   die   while   he's   there,   it'd   be   rather   embarrassing   to   be   murdered   while   your   friend   watches.

[burnt-basement-bunny]

Oh. It hadn't occurred to William that his presence had made anything easier for Jamie. Yes, they'd eventually grown to appreciate one another's company, but surely Jamie had someone else beyond just him for social interaction.

William's ears pull back in confusion and more than a little fear at that. Made a deal. But with whom? The most powerful person he knows can't turn back time, or else she'd-well, surely she'd do something with that. Killed him in the cradle or cut his brakes as an adult.

But perhaps that's his mistake. Assuming that only people with power over him have power. There must be someone else who- "Fredbear? H...how did he gain the ability to send you back?" Not the spirit(s) in Fredbear, but the animatronic himself. That doesn't make any sense.

However Fredbear pulled it off, it clearly has yet to end well. Jamie's general demeanor raises enough red flags even before they clutch at their own throat. No prizes for guessing what happened, then.

Jamie can't be expected to do this alone. Good thing they don't have to.

"That...yes, that could work. If I were to meet the result of my actions and not just hear of them secondhand...The sight of me should give anyone pause." Maybe then his past self will listen. At the very least, it would be much harder to simply get rid of him.

"If you can...contact Fredbear, tell him I'm interested in going back with you. But I'd like to know what would happen to me if we succeeded." William can only be so brave. So little left already, how much more will he be required to lose?

[bitessback]

❛   𝘺𝘰𝘶   𝘥𝘪𝘥,   𝘣𝘶𝘵   ❜      --   𝐁𝐔𝐓   𝐈𝐓   𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓   𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇,   𝐖𝐀𝐒   𝐈𝐓 ?   𝐇𝐎𝐖   𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃   𝐈𝐓   𝐁𝐄 ?   they   were   never   much   to   begin   with,   barely   even   a   person   at   all !   a   𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆   instead   of   a   𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥.   it'd   be   stupid   to   think   it'd   be   enough   for   something   important   --   someone   important,   like   him.   they'd   set   themselves   on   fire   to   keep   him   warm !            [   ﹠   𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵   𝘢   𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭   𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥   𝘵𝘰   𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦   𝘪𝘯,   𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦   𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦   𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺   𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵   𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.   ]

❝   . . .   Me ?   ❞   it's   quiet,   spoken   in   disbelief   and   hope.   like   they're   afraid   the   world   would   hear   and   wrench   it   from   them.   some   subtle   act   of   being   seen   that   lays   them   bare   for   a   second.

even   so,   the   sentiment   is   kind,   something   warm   stirs   in   their   chest   --   something   to   hold   onto.   ﹠ all at once, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, they're a   stray   curled   up   by   his   fire   for   a   moment.   (   𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨   𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘥   𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳   𝘣𝘦   𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦   𝘵𝘰   𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺   𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮.   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲   𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝   𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫   𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞   𝐢𝐭   𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬.   )

𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷.   𝘢𝘩   𝘺𝘦𝘴,   no   substitute   for   that   they'd   suppose.   something   more   remaining   about   that   death   specifically,   there   had   to   be   --   they   also   knew   they   couldn't   fathom   to   ask   a   why   if   his   current   evasive      behavior   is   anything   to   go   by.   he's   scared,   they'd   wager,   or   nervous   at   the   very   least.   &   no   amount   of   coaxing   would   take   that   away,   even   if   it   was   for   the   best   of   intentions.            (   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍   𝚝𝚘   𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕,   𝚊𝚗𝚍   𝚊𝚕𝚕   𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   . . .   )               they   worry   the   flesh   of   their   bottom   lip   in   thought,   casting   a   glance   over   him   as   if   hesitantly   considering   it   before   shaking   their   head.   turning   away   just   as   easily,   unthinkable   to   ask   him   to   relay   that.

they   were   trying   to   𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄   him   not   𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓   𝐇𝐈𝐌   𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄.      (   𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬,   𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 !   )      ❛   𝘣𝘶𝘵   𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴   𝘰𝘯𝘦   𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵   ❜      ---   

❝   ---   But   —   But   what   if   you   could !   ❞   they   shouldn't   have   said   that.   voice   wavering ﹠ strained   as   they   fumble   over   themselves.

❝   I   --   I'm   just   --   I'm   trying   to   –   I   think   I   can   —   ❞      all   half   finished   thoughts,   frazzled   and   desperate.   they   can't   tell   him,   they   know   they   can't.   but   they've   always   been   such   a   bad   liar.

[burnt-basement-bunny]

It's difficult to put Jamie's impact on William back then into words without disappointing them. Because they did everything they could, really. It just...wasn't enough for him.

"Yes. You showed me kindness that I...had not expected. I spared you to secure my own position, I'll admit. But I did eventually. Come to enjoy your company." That last sentence comes out fast, as if he's embarrassed to have experienced a positive human bond.

"If you went back and tried to warn me, the past me, he wouldn't want to believe you anyway. Not if you told him -told me- everything I didn't want to hear." Not when it would be so much easier to just remove the obstacle

Jamie's insistence baffles William. It's too late to change anything, why tie themself in knots over an impossible-hold on.

"Trying to what? This...isn't just speculation, is it? How have you gone back?"

The supernatural exists. What if time travel does, too? But how would that work? Would changing the William of then erase the one that exists now? Or simply replace him with a happier version of himself? William can't function as a regular human being long-term. He knows this. But...what if the other him could?

Besides, his well-being isn't the issue. There are a lot of dead children who could be living adults right now had William not murdered them. For their sake, then...he's going to have to help Jamie.

"I'll aid you. How do we save them?"

[burnt-basement-bunny]

❝ Heyyy, Mr. Afton! ❞ Jamie hasn't made their appearance in the plex in months, their silence not unfounded or completely uncommon but it most certainly was . . . significantly longer than they'd usually stay silent.

They look exhausted. Their body shakes and their eyebags have gotten marginally worse - notably so - and their smile borders on forced and sheepish as they practically stagger up to him. Leaning against the doorway as they seem to fumble over their words, it's a wonder how they're staying upright.

❝ So, hey -- w - weird question! -- how - how would you uhhh . . . what would you say would be the best way to go about changing your mind and or your greatest weakness before you uh . . . died? ❞

it's a terribly odd question, especially so when coming out of the woodwork after missing for months just to stumble downstairs and ask. whatever's going on with them it can't be good, judging by how overtired and shaken up they appear to be. hiding it to the best of their abilities under a sheepish smile -- as always.

Good heavens. They look dreadful. The issue of where Jamie has been this whole time can be set aside. Wherever they'd gone, it has not treated them well. "Jamie, sit down." William brings out the basement's sole chair, a simple metal folding one brought downstairs at some point.

When was the last time they slept? There's not much William can offer on that front unless they're keen on using a blanket with no mattress.

What Jamie's saying is no more reassuring than their appearance.

"Changing my-I don't know. Knowledge of my impending failure? No, then I just would have stayed out of the suit. Told myself what waits after death doesn't matter if I can live forever." Which is, of course, a foolish goal in the long run. Even if he managed to defeat the spectres of age and disease, any accident could have ended his life. But William hadn't been planning centuries ahead at the time.

Wait. "Jamie, why do you need to know this? That kind of speculation - it's only going to hurt."

He would know.

[bitessback]

❛ 𝘴𝘪𝘵   𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 ❜  --   and   they   do,   without   hesitation.   their   body   aches   to the bone.   eye   feels   hazy,   unfocused,   and   burn   when   they   blink.   a   stray   rub   at   their   eye   and   the   way   they   seem   to   slump   in   the   seat   would   give   away   their   exhaustion ---   if   it   wasn't   so   obvious   already.

their   face   drops   further   when   it   seems   like   even   Afton   himself   can't   conjure   up   a   good   argument   to   convince   himself.   oh   beans,   seemed   this   would   be   harder   than   they   thought.   brows   knit   together   as   their   gaze   flitters   to   the   floor   in   pensive   concentration.   leaning   their   elbows   on   their   knees   as   they   heave   a   rather   heavy   sigh.

❝   Well,   what   -   what   made   you   change   your   mind   originally?   ❞   they   inquire   almost   desperately,   as   if   they're   running   out   of   options.   as if their life depended on it *

* ( 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 )

their   hopelessness   as   they   glance   up   at   him   only   lasts   so   long,   quickly   averting   again   as   they   shrink   in   their   seat   like   a   scolded   child.   almost   [ . . . ]   𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝?   but   for   what   remains   to   be   seen.   rubbing   at   their   neck   they   remain   silent   for   a   moment.

❝   I   dunno,   I've   just   ...   been   thinking   about   some   stuff.   ❞

another   non   answer,   avoiding   his   gaze   and   the   question   as   they   catch   their   breath   and   realize   how   tired   they   are.

❝   I   just   [ . . . ]   H - Hypothetically   speaking,   if   you   could   undo   stuff   --   you'd   [ . . . ]   you'd   be   happy . . .   right?   ❞

𝘰𝘩   𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳,   and 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬. they   look   up   at   him   like   a   kicked   puppy.   seeking   affirmation   after   self   perceived   --   or   self-executed   --   admonishment. pleading sad wet eye held heavy by the bag beneath it, 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞.

desperation   in   the   gaze   of   that   loyal   hound   that   would   stay   and   bite   the   boot   that   sinks   its   heel   into the   one   they   follow.   ( 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴   𝘰𝘧   𝘪𝘧   𝘪𝘵   𝘸𝘢𝘴   𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥   𝘰𝘳   𝘯𝘰𝘵. )

[burnt-basement-bunny]

William ought to see if he can get an air mattress down here if Jamie is going to keep turning up like this. Though he'd then have to claim it was for his own use, which would raise some unwanted questions and interfere with his 'harmless animatronic' act.

What made William change his mind? "You did, briefly at least. But..." But it wasn't enough. But he picked up right where he left off the moment something didn't go his way, didn't he? "Death. The second one, after you were-...taken. What I...experienced, it gave me sufficient incentive to stop." William does not share what those experiences were with anyone, ever. The shame of how weak he was made is not something he wants the world to know, and he certainly isn't going to whine about being on the receiving end of vengeance.

He doesn't understand why Jamie is pressing such a depressing topic. They clearly have enough on their plate, judging by looks. Unless...they're not being hypothetical? William is no stranger to the supernatural. Who's to say Jamie hasn't encountered something that would make them want to go back and 'fix' everything, some vision of what could have been?

"If I could 'undo' what I've done, that would be beneficial. And perhaps the version of me who'd caused no harm could go on to live a normal life. But this one can't. How strongly have you been thinking about this? To the point you've been losing sleep?"

[burnt-basement-bunny]

❝ Heyyy, Mr. Afton! ❞ Jamie hasn't made their appearance in the plex in months, their silence not unfounded or completely uncommon but it most certainly was . . . significantly longer than they'd usually stay silent.

They look exhausted. Their body shakes and their eyebags have gotten marginally worse - notably so - and their smile borders on forced and sheepish as they practically stagger up to him. Leaning against the doorway as they seem to fumble over their words, it's a wonder how they're staying upright.

❝ So, hey -- w - weird question! -- how - how would you uhhh . . . what would you say would be the best way to go about changing your mind and or your greatest weakness before you uh . . . died? ❞

it's a terribly odd question, especially so when coming out of the woodwork after missing for months just to stumble downstairs and ask. whatever's going on with them it can't be good, judging by how overtired and shaken up they appear to be. hiding it to the best of their abilities under a sheepish smile -- as always.

Good heavens. They look dreadful. The issue of where Jamie has been this whole time can be set aside. Wherever they'd gone, it has not treated them well. "Jamie, sit down." William brings out the basement's sole chair, a simple metal folding one brought downstairs at some point.

When was the last time they slept? There's not much William can offer on that front unless they're keen on using a blanket with no mattress.

What Jamie's saying is no more reassuring than their appearance.

"Changing my-I don't know. Knowledge of my impending failure? No, then I just would have stayed out of the suit. Told myself what waits after death doesn't matter if I can live forever." Which is, of course, a foolish goal in the long run. Even if he managed to defeat the spectres of age and disease, any accident could have ended his life. But William hadn't been planning centuries ahead at the time.

Wait. "Jamie, why do you need to know this? That kind of speculation - it's only going to hurt."

He would know.

[more4gemini]

Relatable.

[that--unusual-person]

warmup willy

[soup-enthusiast]

[burnt-basement-bunny]

@killedfifth

(Continued from here)

'Living' is a quite fitting choice of words. William - or what's left of his organic body, at least - is alive in a strictly biological sense. It serves also as a reminder: He is not dead. No matter what he might face here, it will always beat the alternative.

William has a strong suspicion as to why Cassidy is here, but he doesn't want to be the one to say it. He steps back as she steps forward. Never did resolve whether a ghost could directly physically harm someone. Not keen on finding out now.

"Your frie-" William's interrupted by his own full-body flinch as his vision is bombarded with images that aren't here. "Right. Yes. He's..." What is he supposed to say? William's had some practice in conversation after nearly a decade without it, but nothing that would have prepared him for an encounter like this. "He's here?"

[inksplit]

[burnt-basement-bunny]

she's glaring, stepping out of the darkness to stand in front of him. her arms crossing over her chest as she takes in the sad state this man who was so powerful had now found himself.

" having fun being a decorative halloween prop, old man? " cassidy sneers.

Ice grips whatever's left of William's spine. She's found him. Not like he made it difficult, but he didn't have the opportunity to do so. William's ears pin themselves against the exposed back of his head, an instinctive but useless attempt to protect himself.

But...Cassidy is only talking for the time being. Yet to drag him back there. Mockery is preferable. It's in his best interest to keep this conversation going. "It's...a living. Sometimes it's fun. Um. I...I find it preferable to. Alternatives."

Is that the best he can do? William's usually far more articulate than that. But he's usually not faced with this level of threat.

"Why are you here." The words come out far too desperate to be considered a demand.