my corner of the internet for all things haunted hectic and horrifying, also where I post my fnaf fanfiction, @witchcraft-in-wonderland is my main, pfp by @penny-umbra
Welcome to my (video game) horror blog! I'll be posting about ocs, aus, and more! Mostly writing, but I do post art occasionally
Please be appropriate, this is NOT an 18+ blog
I am apart of the Weeping Willow System! Any posts made by our alters will be tagged accordingly, but please be respectful of us should you decide to ask system specific questions.
Ask me about my fnaf Discord server!
One-shot requests are open!
Ask me about my au content!
Find me on ao3 at fae_and_fallacy!
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I do participate in rps, so if you are going to send me asks for an rp starter please include:
1. Who you are reaching out to, as well as the variation or time period you wish to rp in
2. Context of who You are, I have a really bad memory and may not always remember your tags
3. Whether you are playing into the context of btc, canon, or your own au
My rules are as follows:
1. No NSFW rp
2. Shipping is allowed in terms of canon relationships with my characters (i.e. Michael blogs can interact romantically with Tori and Jeremy)
3. Some of the characters i have open for rp are also members of my system! I will distinguish between these of course as per my previously mentioned tagging system, but if you want to talk to a system member and NOT start an rp please specify!
"So you think this thing is causing your nightmares?" Tori asked, she was looking at him quizzically, but not like she thought he was crazy.
"I mean- what else could it be? They started the same day dad gave it to me, and only got away when I have it stashed away somewhere," Michael said.
"Thats insane Mike, you get how thats insane, right? I mean- how would you even do something like that? Why would you even do something like that?" Tori continued, exasperated.
"Thats not even the weirdest part- this thing talks- and its not any of those pre-programmed sentences either- like- conversation talk," Michael said, shaking the stuffed bear.
"Well no wonder its giving you nightmares then! I wouldnt want any of my stuffed animals to say anything I didnt tell them to," Tori replied.
"But then who will you talk to when you're alone?" Michael nearly chucked the bear across the room, even after almost a week, he still wasn't used to its random outbursts.
"Aphrodite's blessed pearls, it does talk," Tori said, fascinated.
"Y'think its possessed? Maybe you can splash some of your weird oils on it," Michael chuckled.
"Its not possessed and my ritual elements arent for that." Tori snapped.
"Joking! Joking! Jeez!" Michael said, holding his hands up defensively. "How do you know its not possessed?" he continued.
"Because possession doesnt work like that, a possessed object is still bound by its limitations, if something were possessing this thing it wouldn't be able to talk, the mouth is stitched shut, so it wouldn't be able to move it," Tori said matter-of-factly.
"Couldn't the ghost just like- rip off the stitching though?" Michael said, tilting his head.
"No, ghosts can only interact with physical objects through the object theyre possessing, or psychologically, the fact that the fredbear plushie doesnt appear in your dreams would also hint that it isnt possessed, possessed objects or projections always appear in dreams brought on by a spirit," Tori answered.
"Is that how you figured out all that freaky magic stuff you can do?" Michael asked, tossing aside the stuffed bear.
"Sort of? I mean- my ancestors were blessed by the Gods originally, then as time went on relatives dead and living alike took on the duty of delivering the messages on their behalf, so sometimes its spiritual, sometimes its like- astral projection? I guess?" Tori replied. She then proceeded to scrunch up her nose and turn her head away, eyes squeezed shut as if she were in pain.
"Shit- here we go again- I told you to start laying down when this happens," Michael groaned, pushing her over and hopping off the bed to make sure his door was closed. Tori didnt respond, as he had a feeling she wouldn't. Tori's vision moments were. . . Scary. . . If he was being honest. She always seemed to be in pain when they came on, and then she'd go stiff, which only reminded him of all the dead bodies he'd had to see recently at funerals. Then her eyes would get all wide and completely turn blue, and her mouth would hang open and some weird smoke would start pouring out of it. Then she'd wake up and usually look kind of uncomfortable, and wouldn't talk for a while afterwards.
It was like a zombie movie, which normally would've bern cool, but it wasn't really cool when it was his best friend.
Michael waited for a while until he heard shuffling behind him before opening the door back up and sitting back on the edge of the bed.
"Don't you need water?" he asked. Tori just shook her head, eyes vacant and almost grey.
The both of them stayed quiet for a long time.
"How come your aunt and uncle make you do that every day?" Michael said.
"The prophecies I give out at work arent real, most of the time, I just make some stuff up and then they take the money," Tori whispered. "I only seem to get real prophecies when im not at my aunt and uncle's place," she continued.
"What was this one?" Michael asked.
"Just some more vague stuff, something about dying plants and a fish, that rabbit was there again, the one with the teeth, and there was a bear cub too, that one was new," Tori answered.
"And- the rabbit with the fangs is- thats supposed to be dad, right?" Michael said, Tori nodded.
"Hm. . ." as Michael sat there in thought, the both of them were startled by a sudden loud honk of a car horn outside.
"Guess I gotta go, bye Mike," Tori muttered as she sat up, shaking herself off as she moved to put her shoes back on.
"I'll figure out how to get you out of there soon, I promise," Michael said.
"Thats nice, Mike, but some prophecies can't be rushed, meddling with the future often leads to much more dire consequences than simply letting it run its course," Tori said. She gave him a quick hug as they neared the front door, before stepping out onto the porch and disappearing into the tinted windows of her uncle's car.
"Is everything alright Michael? You look. . . Odd," Michael heard his father say from the top of the stairs.
"Im fine, father," Michael said, attempting to brush past him quickly to get back to his room.
"Not so fast young man, somethings bothering yoy, and you're going to tell me what it is," father said, grabbing his arm. Michael rolled his eyes.
"I think- somethings wrong with Tori- or her aunt and uncle- I guess- I mean- shes my age and I think she works as often as you do- which is all day." Michael said, being sure to add in at least a touch of snark at the last comment.
"Works? What do you mean by that?" his father said, taking a seat at the top of the stairs and beckoning for him to sit beside him.
"Well- her parents have this- business- where they have her pretend to give out like- prophecies and stuff- she said its because they dont respect her family's beliefs- paganism or something- and they pulled her out of school and everything- but I dont think theyre homeschooling her either, even though shes really smart- and shes always exhausted and they barely even let her have weekends like you and Uncle Henry do," Michael said, trying his best to avoid spilling anything that might reveal more important secrets.
"I see. . . Thank you for telling me this Michael, I'm sorry your friend has been dealing with that, I know she's rather important to you," his father said, raising an eyebrow.
"I told her I'd try to fix it, but she just keeps telling me theres no point. . ." Michael muttered, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands.
"Perhaps you cant, but you're only a boy after all, and shes only a girl, if you had told me sooner than perhaps i could've done something sooner," his father said, standing up again.
"Wh- what are you going to do?" Michael asked, bolting upright and suddenly feeling a little panicked.
"Nothing you need to worry about son, why dont you go help your sister and brother get ready for dinner," his father said before walking off toward his room.
There was a sudden onset feeling of deep, crushing regret in Michael's stomach, and he wasnt sure if Tori was ever going to be able to talk to him again after tonight.
Don't meddle with the future, because sometimes it makes everything worse. . .
Chapter Twenty-One: Michael Afton and the Terrible Horrible Awful Apology Present
What even was the definition of "normal" anymore? From the looks of all the adults in his life, it seemed like it just meant pretending that nobody died once they were buried. But how was Michael just supposed to forget something like that? His mother was dead and that whiny fussy snotty monster in the nursery was the reason why. But for some reason he was the problem for being mad about it?
Bullshit. Thats what this all was. Complete and total bullshit.
The only person in his life who seemed even a little impacted by everything happening was Miss Rose, and Tori, to a lesser extent. He was pretty sure Tori was just humoring him, though, to make him feel less alone in his anger. She was always lecturing him though, about not blaming his younger brother.
But it wasn't his fault! How could he learn to care about the little freak when it wouldn't even shut up for long enough to talk to? He could almost swear the only noise Evan was capable of making was crying and wailing.
All in all, today was shaping up to be the worst birthday ever. Mostly due to the fact that it seemed like everyone forgot it was even his birthday.
School was boring, he had to babysit his siblings while his dad was at work, and Tori was too busy with some dumb shit at her aunt and uncle's house to come over and make things at least slightly less annoying.
He could barely keep his eyes open long enough to pay attention to whatever stupid story Elizabeth was trying to tell him while playing with her dolls. And then that bored silence was broken, yet again, by Evan's piercing shrieks.
"I'll be right back Lizzie," Michael muttered, trudging back to the nursery. "What is it now, asshole. Are you hungry? Smelly? Just being annoying?" he hissed down at the wriggling thing in the crib below. This, of course, only served to make him wail louder. Michael was about to shout at him to shut up when he heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Thinking quickly, he yanked the baby out of his crib and sat down in the nearby rocking chair, hoping he could at least give the impression that he'd been trying to take care of him.
"Ah- there you are Michael- is he having trouble sleeping again?" Was the first thing his father said to him after coming into the house.
Elizabeth could get full sentences of praise and worship, but all Michael got was questions about anyone else but him.
"Yeah," Michael muttered.
"Speak up, boy." his father said sharply.
"Yes, hes having trouble sleeping again." Michael answered with narrowed eyes.
"Give him here, theres something in your room for you, and lose that attitude before I change my mind about it." Father continued. Michael did as asked and rushed to his room. There were two things sitting on his bed, a box, and a bag. Checking the tags, he saw that one of them was from Henry, and the other one was from his father.
He decided to open Henry's first, and was ecstatic to find a bundle of various Batman comic issues. He scanned over them before putting them up on his bookshelf in the correct order and moving on to his father's gift.
Unsuprisingly, as he unboxed it, it became rather clear that it wasn't going to be anything relevant.
In fact, inside the box, was a medium sized plush Fredbear toy, but it didnt quite match the ones sold at the diner. It seemed to be hand-sewn, with glossy buttons for eyes and very clear stitching on some of its parts, as well as some smaller signs of stitching on its back.
"Of course- Uncle Henry gets me cool shit, and dad gets me a dumb toy." He muttered. He flung the toy onto the bed just as the doorbell rang, met with a chorus of howls from the family dog Bailey, and the skittering of claws as Sophie the cat made her way to the nearest window to see what was going on. Michael made his way over to answer the door, and was surprised to see Miss Rose standing out on the porch.
"Happy Birthday Michael! I didnt see you at the diner today so I figured I'd stop by," Miss Rose said with a smile, taking a bag off of her arm and handing it to him.
"Oh uh- thanks-" Michael muttered sheepishly. He rummage through the bag and pulled out a box set of action figures. "Woah! Awesome!" He shouted, throwing his arms around the woman before he registered what he was doing. Once he had, though, he let go rather quickly and cleared his throat.
"I thought you might like them," Miss Rose said with a laugh, though her expression changed rapidly as she looked up, and clearly past Michael.
"Miss Warren! I wasn't expecting you today," Michael heard his father say from the top of the stairs.
"Well, I didnt see Michael today and I figured that I ought to stop by to drop off his birthday present, but I suppose I should be going now," Miss Rose said coldly.
"Nonsense! Come in, come in, I was just about to get started on dinner!" Michael shot Miss Rose a warning look, hoping perhaps he could save her from being subjected to the horrors of his father's cooking.
"Oh- uhm- I suppose I could stay for a little while," Miss Rose said, clearing her throat. Her hand seemed to find his rather quickly, and she gave it a little squeeze that Michael supposed was meant to be reassuring.
"Im actually glad you came over when you did Miss Warren, poor Evan just seems so much calmer with you around, must be something about a woman's touch," Father said as they all sat down for dinner, Miss Rose helping Evan into his high chair.
"Have you been giving him enough physical contact? Its very important for baby development," Miss Rose replied dismissively.
"Well- as you are well aware, I spend quite a lot of time at the diner." Said father.
"Wlel then im sure his babysitter can pick up the slack," Miss Rose replied.
"He doesnt have one, Michael takes care of him once he gets home from school," Miss Rose looked stunned, and completely appalled.
"You- you leave him and Elizabeth alone for hours? Mr. Afton with all due respect does that not strike you as insane. Thats bordering on child abuse!" she said, exasperated.
"There's just no one really available to watch them! They've been doing fine on their own the past few months!" Miss Rose held her head in her hands and shook it.
"I'll do it- I'm sure you can make due without your secretary for much longer than these poor children can without proper adult supervision," Miss Rose hissed.
"Perhaps you have a point, but I won't be paying you extra if thats what you're thinking. As far as im concerned, the amount of time you'd be taking off for that would be grounds for me to fire you." Miss Rose opened her mouth to protest, but Evan had chosen that particular moment to break into another fit of sobs.
Having Miss Rose around all the time didnt sound that bad, but his father seemed a bit- smug- about it- and that gave Michael an awful feeling.
An awful feeling that only got worse later that night. He'd turned the stupid plushie around so it was face down against the pillows, he thought about throwing it away- but that would probably lead to no more presents at all in the future.
And at first, he wasn't even sure he was asleep, because he was still in his room. But looking around, something seemed. . . Off, in a way. Toys not where they should be, his comics seeming illegible even when he shined a flashlight on them, and he couldnt turn the overhead lights on, either. More importantly- the plushie was gone. In fact, when he turned to shine the flashlight at his bed, the only thing there was a golden bear head, with rows and rows of jagged teeth.
"What the hell?. . ." Michael muttered, creeping towards the thing. This proved to be a mistake, as when he got too close, the monstrous Fredbear-esque thing lunged for him, and then he woke up in his real bedroom with a hard jolt.
"What the. . ." He muttered. He assumed, at first, that it was just a bad dream. But then it happened again, and again, and again, until finally- he decided to shove the plushie in his backpack.
"Tori's gonna freak when she hears about this thing- but maybe she'll have some funky magic shit for it. . . I hope." Michael muttered before finally going to bed for real, and this time, there were no nightmares to chase him.
des.sri.el entirely confirmed by chapter 5 but here's how "dess loving asriel as a friend but hating feeling pressured to be in a romantic relationship with him because everyone in town thinks they are and it's made worse by dess' gender dysphoria" can still win
