The Fandom Phantom

Hey there! Feel free to call me Host or Phantom. I write and doodle for the various fandoms I follow. - •{Requests: Open!}• •{Currently writing: FnaF content}• - I will write for the following: {Detroit: Become Human} {Five Nights at Freddy’s} {Batman and related DC content} {Team Fortress 2} - Notes: {Casual William Afton enjoyer.} {Will write suggestive, Won’t write NSFW}{Icon and Banner by me, Please don’t repost any of my content without permission.}

[furaflictedhost]

The second option of Zofi Persson's request kinda intrigued me (the "old friends" one with Michael and the former Tormentors post Scoop) quite a bit. Could you write something for it, if you aren't?

Sure! This took quite a while as I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with this one. This one is a bit short, and a bit darker than my usual stories. Enjoy!

People always told Michael he looked like his father. 

At this point he couldn't even pretend that inheriting his father's likeness was pleasing to him. 

Most stages of his life he dealt with seeing his father’s face in the mirror, and even now they looked similar even in what could be classified as death. It was almost as if his father was taunting him.

Going out in public was daunting on the best of days, covering every inch of skin as best he could to hide the horrible decomposition that was his body. Today was even more of a hassle than usual. 

Regardless, he had errands to run. 

Shuddering, Michael grabbed his keys and mask and headed outside. He was covered head to toe, and he knew it was bound to raise questions, but better to dodge questions than expose and explain the purple mass of bruised flesh he called a body. 

It was a fairly simple list. Groceries, recycling, he needed to grab his mail, the sort of chores that were important but weren't particularly fun to do. So he started with the closest. He headed downstairs, waving politely to his landlady, who was getting ready to walk her puppy.

A few bills, and one or two things he’d ordered. Dropping those off in his apartment, he headed out again. First, he handled the recycling, then he headed to the store. There was really only one major grocery store in Hurricane, so it was packed as usual.

After wrestling with traffic to find parking, Michael halted the car, and rested his head on his steering wheel. He hated going into crowded spaces. There was no way to avoid the stares, the judgemental eyes wandering over his features. Heaving a sigh, Michael threw off his seatbelt, and climbed out.

About halfway through his list, He was already tired. It irked him that the simple tasks took so much energy now, whereas before it would’ve been a breeze. Turning to grab something, he heard a conversation. Two guys talking about something. He tried to ignore them, but something kept drawing his attention back.

A familiar voice froze him in place.

He was back in school, excitedly waiting to hear those voices, to talk with his friends. Running down the hallway to meet them despite the constant complaints from teachers, to talk about anything and everything. His sanctuary away from home.

Glancing off to his left, he spotted them. Daniel, Aaron, and Jason. 

He could almost smell the blood, fear washing over him. For half a second of dead time he was in that room again, lost and terrified staring up at the consequences of his actions. His friends abandoned him out of fear, hightailing it the moment Evan stopped moving. 

They didn’t talk again after that, not for a long time. 

At one point they met up to discuss what had happened, but he was too angry to say anything. This was as much their fault as it was his. All of what happened to him, to everyone else, because of one stupid prank gone awry.

He would have called them friends at one point, his best friends even. He could call them old friends now, but that didn’t seem right. Acquaintances seemed more appropriate. There was no way to repair the bond he had with them. Not at this point. He took a deep breath, air wheezing in and out of his lungs.  

Stepping out of the isle, Michael navigated past the group. Jason glanced up, and spotted him and for a moment saw a figure he couldn’t quite recognise. Reaching out, he tapped Michael on the shoulder.

“Hey, dude! You seem awfully familiar, do I know you?”

Michael looked between Jason and the hand clasped on his shoulder. For a moment, he stared down at him, steely dead eyes piercing through him. After years, a decision forced itself to fruition. Reaching up, he firmly grasped his hand, and pushed it off.

“No. You don’t.”

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Thunderstorm~

The drive home was not a long one. Winter called for the sun to set far earlier than usual, so by the time William was able to go home it was dark.

Rain pattered down on the windshield, sending sparks of light across the windshield with every passing streetlamp. It was quiet for the short drive, and he hummed softly to himself, not bothering with the radio. He complacently watched the cars around him, a sense of ease settling into him after a long day.

A low rumble like the sky startled him from his calm. He listened closely, and when it happened again, he intensely focused on the road. He had something to attend to.

The moment he was home, he made a mad dash for the front door, raindrops nipping at him every step of the way. Leaning heavily against the front door, William took a deep breath, and flopped down on the bench beside him.

“Hey, hon! How was work?”

Poking her head around the doorframe, Mrs Afton greeted her husband with her usual bright grin. He waved, wrestling with the knot in his shoelaces with his other hand. 

“It was alright. I narrowly dodged the downpour.”

Shucking off his shoes, William headed for the living room, and snagged the cushions off the couch. Clara watched her husband tear apart the couch set up, and tilted her head upwards to listen. Upon hearing the clash of thunder, she understood. 

Setting the cushions up carefully off to one side, William gathered as many pillows from around the room as possible, even borrowing from other rooms. After a quick but sturdy setup, he threw a quilt over the whole thing, and added chairs around the perimeter for support.

Sometimes being an engineer meant being able to construct a really awesome pillow fort. 

After ensuring his set up was sturdy, he headed up the stairs, and poked his head into his youngest’s room. Thunder was one of the things that Evan had no fear of. Regardless, He often joined them in the pillow fort. 

The room was devoid of life, but all of the plushies had been snagged from their spaces, and the quilt from the bed was mysteriously tucked under. Evan had likely escaped to his favored hiding place.

Kneeling, William lifted the edge of the blanket. He was met with a wide eyed stare, and Foxy staring at him, sitting as a guard at the end of the bed. Wordlessly, Evan crawled out from under the bed at the sight of his father, grabbing a few of his fluffy friends as he went. William smirked, amused by his son’s appearance from the void underneath his bed, and beckoned for him to follow.

“Come on, Let us go find your sister.”

When he poked his head in, Elizabeth was perched on her bed, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over her headphones as she tried to block out the noise. Approaching slowly, William sat down next to her, and gently put his hands over hers. Her green eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him, bottom lip quivering. She slowly took off her headphones, and took her father’s hand.

“Hi, Daddy…”

She spoke quietly, voice shaky from crying. He smiled reassuringly, and she latched onto him, pulling herself close to his chest. Gently, he patted her on the back of the head, smoothing back her hair. 

“Hello, little one. I have constructed a pillow fort. How about you and Evan head downstairs, and I’ll meet you there?”

Lizzy looked up at him, seeming hesitant. 

“Your mother is making hot chocolate.”

That seemed to give her enough incentive. She nodded, climbed off her bed, taking her brother’s hand. After they had headed downstairs, he looked down the hall at his eldest child’s room.

Michael had been terrified of thunder since he was little, running to hide at the first sign of a storm. The pillow fort had started with him, as the fluffy fortress seemed to distract him from the fear. He refused to come join them last time, declaring himself too old for his father’s attempts to soothe him. Perhaps if he extended the offer, he would come join them?

The door to his room was ajar, and he had his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He shook, staring at the window blankly, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. With every crash of thunder, he flinched, and gripped the blanket tighter.

A gentle tapping on the door frame brought his attention back to the moment. He looked over his shoulder to see his father silhouetted in the doorway. 

“Hey there, sport.”

Gripping the blanket tighter, Michael looked down, and then back to the window. He opened his mouth to respond, but a crash of thunder forced a squeak out of him in place of the words. William stepped forward, intent to comfort him, but stopped. Michael had asked him not to in the past. 

“We have built a pillow fort downstairs. You are welcome to join us if you would like.”

Michael looked like he wanted to respond, perhaps an angry retort, but the words never left him. His face screwed up, brows furrowing, but then fell to an apprehensive frown. 

“You do not have to if you do not want to.”

At the reassurance from his father, Michael’s face fell to a frightened stare. He desperately wanted to retain the image he’d cultivated, the bad boy who didn’t need his parents. However, at that moment he didn’t feel that confidence. He felt like a small child, listening to the roar of a monster outside. Rising to his feet shakily, Michael dragged the blanket with him, and walked over to his father. 

As they walked downstairs, Michael pulled the blanket tight around him, almost tripping his father with how close he was following behind. William ushered his son into the pillow fort, where Evan and Elizabeth were waiting with Clara. 

Michael settled down next to his mother, and Clara handed him a mug of hot chocolate, ruffling his hair affectionately. She adjusted the blanket around her son, so it wasn’t falling off his shoulders. William sat down next to them, and began fiddling with the lamp.

Evan scooted closer to his brother, a determined look on his face. After shuffling around in his stuffed animal pile, he firmly placed his Foxy plush on his brother’s lap. With a shaky smile, Mike adjusted the Foxy plush with his free hand. 

“Thanks Squirt.”

Evan nodded, and planted himself next to Michael, putting his head on his shoulder. Clara wrapped her arm around both of them, holding her sons close. Elizabeth quickly clambered over, and snuggled up to her mom.

At some point, William turned on the television, allowing the melody of Fredbear and Friends to dull the silence and distract from the fear. The thunder continued to crash outside, but Michael could barely hear it. He felt like a small kid again, and for the moment, he didn’t mind. 

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Nightmares~

That stupid rabbit always made it 100 times harder than It needed to be.

Evan creeped down the hallway towards his parents bedroom. 

Plushie Bon stared him down with every step he made. He could’ve sworn when he wasn’t looking at it it moved, but all things considered, Spring Bonnie was his favorite. The bunny never gave him any frights at night, unlike the other characters, twisted and gnarled to become nightmarish apparitions by his young imagination.

A foot from the door. Slowly reaching for the handle, Evan was tense as a bowstring, ready to leap away at a moment's notice. His fingers brushed the handle, and he felt hope begin to build. 

Then Plushie fell over.

Evan leaped away, tumbling to the floor with a loud squeak. The rabbit made no move, but Evan was fear stricken. He swung his flashlight at the toy and sent it into the wall with a soft poof, and bolted past it into his parents room, slamming the door behind him. 

His parents room was dark, illuminated dimly by his weak flashlight. The circle of light illuminated his path over to his father’s side of the bed. Best not to wake momma this late.

Tiptoeing over to the left side of the bed, Evan clutched his flashlight like a security blanket. His parents' bed was tall, and he had to climb the side to reach his father. Once on top of the bed, Evan searched the sea of blankets for signs of life. 

Under a mound of pillows and fabric, He spotted his father’s hand poking out. Without a second thought, Evan lunged forward, and grabbed hold. Not a moment later, a bleary-eyed William unburied his head from the blankets and squinted at his son. Rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, William yawned and then addressed the child.

“Evan? Whats- ”

Without any warning, William suddenly had a bundle of child pressed firmly against his chest, quivering like a leaf. 

“Oh, dear.” 

He wrapped his arms around his youngest, soothingly rubbing his back.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

Sobbing quietly against his father’s chest, Evan simply pointed towards the door. William brushed his hand through his hair, and looked towards where he’d been directed, not understanding his son’s adamant motion.

“I don’t understand…Do you want to show me?”

Evan shook his head adamantly. 

“N-no! They’re still out there!”

Then William understood. Sometimes he wanted to curse his eldest for those pranks. Gently picking up Evan and holding him to his chest, William swung his legs off the edge of the bed. The small boy clung to him like a koala. 

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

He knew what Evan was going to say. Nightmarish versions of the characters he loved so much, trying to get him. He hated that his creations caused his children so much distress, all because their eldest sibling decided to be cruel.  

“It’s Bonnie and Freddy and all of them. But they’re not nice. They’re mean and scary and they’re trying to get me.”

A long suffering sigh left him. 

“Right.” He ran his hand through Evan’s hair. “Cub, you know they would never do anything to hurt you, right? Freddy and Bonnie and the rest are nice.”

Evan looked up at him, eyes watery, and bottom lip quivering. William motioned over to the Spring Bonnie costume sitting in pieces on his desk. 

“Look at Spring Bonnie. He’s friendly.”

Putting his head against his father’s chest, Evan clutched his flashlight.

“But Spring Bonnie’s always friendly because he’s papa.”

Chuckling softly, William stood up.

“That’s right. And Papa built the others, so they should be just as friendly.”

Evan was having none of it. He knew they were out there, and they were trying to get him. No amount of consoling was going to change his mind. Placing his head firmly against his father’s shoulder, Evan just sobbed.

He heard his father sigh, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was comforting, reassuring to know he wasn’t the only living thing awake right now. The feeling of something fuzzy being pressed against his head brought his attention back to his father. 

William was holding a Spring Bonnie plushie, the same one that he usually slept with. It was worn from several years of being held, some of its fur was matted and it clearly had been repaired lovingly whenever wear would break open the seams. Its purple vest was faded, and the ribbon of the same color had been re-tied too many times to count.

“Here. How about you take Springs with you. He’ll protect you.”

Taking the old plushie in his small hands, Evan held him close. It was still warm from being held by his father not a few minutes ago.

“But don’t you need him to sleep?”

William shook his head, brushing Evan’s hair away from his face.

“I think you need him more than I do right now.”

He stood, and carried Evan over to the door. Before he opened it, he looked down at his son, still shaking in fear. 

“Are you already?”

Only after Evan nodded did he press forward, carrying his youngest child back to his room. No nightmares would dare come for him, not while he was with his father. Then they were back in his room, and William set him down on his bed, and began to tuck him in. 

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, William told him goodnight, and headed for the door. He listened, holding onto the receding sounds of his father’s footsteps, and clinging to the stuffed animal rabbit like a shield. Alone with the monsters once again.

He could feel exhaustion creeping into his mind, and he fought to no avail. He could feel the darkness of sleep clouding his senses, and in a moment, he was sitting up in bed again. The footsteps of the nightmares, growing ever closer. 

Poised to spring into action, to close the doors, grab his flashlight, he spotted a figure sitting on the end of his bed. Fear surged through him, and he snatched the flashlight off his side table.

A familiar gold fur shimmered in the flashlight beam, and the yellow rabbit looked over its shoulder at him. Its silver eyes were gentle, and unwarped by the nightmarish thoughts that tainted the others. They made no move to get closer, only looking at him with curious interest.

He watched the rabbit’s every move, but fear became confusion as they stood from the end of his bed, and held closed the closet doors. Springs kept Foxy at bay, and then stepped over to the door, closing it to prevent Bonnie from entering. 

Spring Bonnie moved in familiar patterns, protecting Evan in much the same way he had defended himself so many times before.  He stood guard while Evan watched, sitting on his bed, nestled under the covers. 

There was no need to get out of bed, so he just watched, and rested. When he awoke in the morning, he felt more rested than he had in the last few months. Tucking Spring Bonnie under his arm, he headed downstairs, leaving his Fredbear plush on the bed.

He crossed the hall towards his father’s office, avoiding Michael. Gingerly, he pushed open the mahogany door, and stepped into the space. It was painfully orderly as usual, but he didn't mind. Slipping around the corner of the mountainous desk, Evan stood next to his father to avoid startling him. 

Without looking up from his paperwork, William reached over and patted his head. 

“Good morning, little one. How did you sleep?”

“Can I hold onto Springs for a while?”

Setting down his pen, he turned to face his son with that knowing smile on his face.

“You hold on to him for as long as you’d like.”

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Training Wheels~

Losing track of time when working on a project was not uncommon for William. Neither was losing most of his awareness of what was going on around him. 

His children often took this as an invitation to sneak into and out of the workshop undetected. However, even after many experiences proving the opposite, they still did so. Michael tiptoed into the workshop, glancing frequently at his father to ensure he hadn’t been spotted.

Slowly, he inched his way across the concrete, every footfall carefully measured. It was a game at this point, to see who could sneak in and out undetected, but no one had succeeded thus far. He reached for the wrench that was usually perched atop his tool shelf, and grasped, only to find it missing. 

“Looking for this?”

Spotted. Michael turned to face his father, who still had his back turned. He held up the wrench he was looking for like a prize. Michael cursed under his breath. There goes his hope for winning. He sheepishly approached his father.

“Uh, Yeah.”

Turning in a manner akin to a cartoon evil genius, William smirked. Michael made a grab for it, only to be thwarted by his father’s quick movements, holding it away from him.

“And why, pray tell, are you looking for my spanner?” 

Groaning in frustration, Michael made another grab for it, unamused by his father’s antics.

“Because I need it.”

Tossing the wrench from one hand to the other with nonchalant agility, William leaned back, holding it just out of his eldest’s reach.

“Why do you need it?”

Practically climbing on him, Michael reached for the wrench, only to be thwarted again by his father standing up.

“I’m doing something! Gimme the wrench!”

Michael climbed his father’s stool, attempting to even out the height difference. His father stepped away from him, just enough to put him off balance, but not enough to topple him from his standpoint on the stool.

“What are you working on?”

Wobbling unsteadily, Michael groaned aloud in frustration, and admitted defeat. When his father decided to be difficult or playful, there was no way around it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Michael sat down on the stool.  

“I’m putting my training wheels back on my bike, okay?”

The incredulous look his father gave him only frustrated him more.

“Why? You don’t need them.”

Frowning deeply, Michael folded his arms and looked to the floor in embarrassment.

“It’s not for me Dad, it’s for…just give me the wrench.”

“I would be happy to help you, but I need more information.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose when irritated was something Michael picked up from his mother. Ironically that frustration often came from the same source. 

“I am trying to teach Evan how to ride a bike, and I want to put the training wheels on my bike so he doesn’t freak out, okay?”

A small, knowing smile appeared on his father’s face. William patted his eldest son’s shoulder affectionately.

“See? Now was that so hard?”

“You already knew, didn’t you.”

The sly grin on his father’s face answered the question on its own. William offered Michael the tool he’d been fighting to grab and ruffled his hair. 

“Your mother told me a couple hours ago. I just wanted to give you a hard time.”

Michael snatched the wrench from his father’s hands and stomped towards the door. About a foot from the exit, he turned back to his father. 

“Speaking of, have you seen Evan? I’ve been looking for him all day.”

William motioned over to the other stool. Sitting a few feet away, staring at them both with his unmovable blank stare, was Evan.

“He has been helping me with my latest project.”

Michael sighed, and motioned for his brother to follow him, only to find his brother was already standing next to him. He jumped slightly, always slightly unnerved by his brother’s ability to seemingly teleport, and then took his hand.

“Right. Come on, Ev. Let’s go get those wheels attached.”

He led his brother out of the room, calling a thank you over his shoulder. William smirked, and turned back to his project, only to find that his screwdrivers had all been rearranged, and the one he needed was missing. He sighed, knowing there could only be one culprit.

“Goddamnit. Not again.”

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Discussing Interests~

“So, this….Batman character you’re so excited about. What’s so interesting about him?”

Michael went bug eyed at his father’s question. 

“What?! He’s the world's greatest detective! Come on dad!”

Glancing up from his workbench, William raised an eyebrow.

“Last time I checked that title belongs to Sherlock Holmes.”

The longsuffering groan from his son made him smirk wryly. Taking this as a challenge, Michael began to count off the interesting aspects of his favorite hero.

“Okay, Father. He’s a detective, crime fighter, superhero, billionaire, philanthropist, genius, father, AND! He dresses like a bat to strike fear into the hearts of criminals.”

The teen folded his arms, sticking his nose in the air. 

“That’s why he’s awesome.”

“Doesn’t sound far off from what I do.”

Almost choking on air, Michael looked at his father in disbelief.

“What? No! Totally different. You prance around in a bunny costume to make kids laugh, and build robots that usually fail. He fights the most dangerous of criminals dressed like a bat because bats are scary.”

His father looked affronted.

“My machines don’t usually fail! And I do not ‘prance’, I frolic.”

Rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his head, Michael hunched over on the stool he was sitting on. 

“Suuuuure. Keep telling yourself that, dad.”

Continuing to fiddle with Foxy’s arm, William sighed.

“Besides, I’m not sure all that violent television is good for you. It gave you nightmares when you were younger.”

Sputtering with irritation, Michael threw his hands up. He stalked out of his father’s workshop, ignoring when his father called after him.

William pulled his glasses off his face to rub at the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he just did not understand that boy. Looking at the machine on the table, he contemplated the discussion, then sighed in frustration.

“Alright, William. You have pissed off your son again. What was it this time…?”

He tapped his fingers against his desk in thought, picking through the conversation piece by piece, and ultimately coming up blank. He swiftly grabbed a large piece of drafting paper and a marker, tossing them both on the floor. 

Popping the cap off the marker, William drew a circle, quickly creating a mind map. It was a mess, words and circles haphazardly thrown onto the page. Running his hands through his hair he tried to calm the stress building up in the back of his head.

“Ohkay… Let us try this again.”

“Will?” 

He looked over his shoulder from his crouched position over his mind map. His wife was standing in the doorway. 

“Dearest, first off, what are you doing?”

Motioning vaguely to the paper, William stated what he thought was obvious. 

“Mind map.”

She walked over and stood next to him, looking at the chaos that adorned the page.

“Okay…Michael said you were being unreasonable, and I wanted to ask what happened.”

Standing up, He looked down at the entire mind map. 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I was trying to figure out why he liked Batman so much, but he got irritated and stormed off.”

An understanding hum from his wife redirected his attention to her. 

“You were trying to dissect his interests again. That’s why he’s so upset.”

She put an arm around him and pulled him close so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“Maybe try just sitting down and watching some Batman with him instead of trying to pick it apart? Then you two could discuss the episode?”

William blinked a couple times. That would work far better. 

“Oh.”

She chuckled. 

“You are so clueless sometimes, I love you.”

He grinned sheepishly, and pecked her on the head, before heading up to find his son. 

Michael was in his room, blankets wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon. When he heard his father’s familiar knocking pattern, He sighed in irritation.

“What!?” 

After a minute of silence, Michael called out again.

“You can come in.”

The door slowly opened, and his father poked his head in, and then made his way over to his son. Michael was glaring at him sharply. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Raising an eyebrow, Michael scrutinized his father, who was picking at his hands.

“Okay…?”

“I did not realize that my attempt to dissect your interests would irritate you. I…wanted to know more about why you enjoyed it, and your mother pointed out that was not the best approach.”

Michael nodded. That made more sense, his mom had pointed it out, otherwise he wouldn’t have heard about it again from his dad. 

“Ah.”

 William continued rather timidly.

“So perhaps…You could show me an episode? So, I can see for myself, and you will not have to explain it?”

Giving him an odd look, Michael contemplated the offer.

“Eh. Fine. Come on.”

As they settled on the couch, William was internally grateful for his wife’s wisdom. If he’d worked through it on his own, He would’ve been chewing on it for weeks. By the time he figured it out, it would not have been relevant any more.

The theme began playing, and he focussed, intent to spend the afternoon solving the mystery that was his son’s interests.

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity 

~Week Old Coffee~

William often forgot things in his workshop. Usually it was small things, like his keys or a handkerchief. Sometimes it was big things, like his briefcase or his coat. This time it was a cup of coffee.

Usually this wasn’t a problem, as he was in his workshop all the time, but this one had been set aside. In short, he’d forgotten about it. He threw open the door to his workshop, a large box of parts in his arms, and his phone balanced precariously between his ear and shoulder.

“I don’t care, Scott, just get it handled! We cannot have three parties scheduled at the same time! We simply do not have the space!”

He dropped the box on his workbench and began rifling through it. He’d put his notebook down somewhere.

“Especially not if party room 2 isn’t scheduled to be cleaned until that evening!”

Shoving the box to one end of the workbench, William began moving papers. Maybe he’d set something on top of it?

“Reschedule one of them, Maybe? Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow, I do not have the capacity to handle this right now.”

He rubbed the corners of his eyes, and looked around the room, taking the cellphone in his left hand. His shoulder was beginning to ache.

“Alright, I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Flicking closed the phone, He heaved an irritated sigh, followed by a frustrated groan.

“Where on earth did I put that damn thing?!”

Then he spotted it. The lone mug sitting on his drafting table next to his notebook. He walked over and tentatively peaked at the mug’s contents. It was a cup of coffee.

A suspicious film was growing over the top of it.

William reached down and picked up the mug numbly. He was too tired to care how old it was at this point. He lifted the mug, and promptly fumbled it, almost dropping it as a loud voice came from behind him. 

“William Augustine Afton, I know you weren’t about to drink that.”

He turned very slowly to face his wife, who was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. She marched over and snatched the mug out of hands, before promptly replacing it with a fresh one.

The deer in headlights look on his face was enough to make his wife press a kiss to head.

“I’m sorry I startled you, but don’t drink week-old coffee. With the amount of half and half you put in your coffee it might as well be poisonous by now.”

Leaving him alone in his workshop, Clara leaves to go take care of the offending coffee. William stood there, mug in hand unmoving for about 3 minutes.

“Wait, my middle name is not Augustine.”

[furaflictedhost]

Can I recomend "Dad turned into a zombie again" combined with sleep deprivation?

Absolutely! Here's Sleep Deprivation and "Dad's turned into a zombie again."

Late nights weren’t exactly a first for William, but this was a new one. 

He hadn’t missed this many nights of sleep in a row since finals week of college. Between organizing the opening of the new Freddy’s, personal projects, and building the new animatronics, he’d hardly gotten a moment of downtime.

Now he was practically asleep on his feet, a mug of coffee in his hand, glaring at the clock. He’d lost track of how long he’d been standing there, and the clock kept jumping whenever he blinked. 

Blinking a couple times, he tried to comprehend what that incessant beeping was, and after a moment realized it was the coffee maker turning off. Coffee. That sounded like a wonderful idea. He poured himself a mug and sipped the caffeinated substance. 

It tasted wonderful, and gave his vision a bit more clarity. He continued working on the project that had taken up so much of his time, and was working as a distraction from his body’s outcry from being kept awake so long. The mug was warm in his grip, and he paused, considering the feeling. It was comforting.

The next thing he was aware of was the mug clattering to the floor, sloshing hot coffee all over his shoes. He jumped back, startled by the sudden loud noise, and the scalding liquid suddenly drenching his pant leg. Heart hammering, he leaned against his desk, and turned to Henry. 

Looking around for his friend, He found he was alone in his workshop. Leaning heavily against his desk, he stared down at the remains of the mug at his feet. Two little shoes invaded the edge of his field of view. Glancing to the side, he saw his youngest staring up at him.

Evan was clutching his Fredbear stuffed animal as usual, and was looking at him like his head was on backwards. 

“Papa?”

The young boy looked at the mug, and then back at his father.

“It broke. Are you ok?”

William tried to respond, he really did, but the words got lost somewhere between thought and speech. 

“Hgn.” 

He was vaguely aware of his youngest wandering out at some point, and something that sounded like ‘Dad turned into a zombie again!’ being called upstairs. His alarm started beeping loudly, indicating it was time for work again. 

Pushing himself to a full stand, he held out his arms for balance as his vision swam. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, to avoid watching the world go topsy-turvy. His head hurt like someone had taken a jackhammer to his temples. 

Once his vision had straightened, he opened his eyes, and headed to his room to grab a new pair of slacks, ones that didn’t have coffee on the cuffs. Trudging his way upstairs, he barely made it to his room without falling. 

As he headed to the wardrobe, he caught sight of his reflection in the floor length mirror. He was a mess, hair all over the place, tie askew, and shirt wrinkly. He’d apparently removed his vest at some point, he wasn’t sure when. Time seemed to run together at this point.

Normally his appearance would’ve appalled him, being so unkempt. However in his sleep deprived state, he found it deliriously amusing. He chuckled, quietly at first, but then just dissolved into depraved giggles and sank to the floor in front of the mirror. 

He was vaguely aware of a presence behind him, before he felt a hand on his head, gently tousling his hair. In the reflection he could see his wife standing behind him, looking down at him with a heavily concerned expression. 

“Are you alright, hon?”

Clara knelt down next to him, and he grinned up at her. She sighed, and looped her arms underneath his, and hauled him towards their bed. William struggled weakly, but to no avail.

“I…I have to go to work. Le-go.” His words slurred together in an almost drunken manner.

She hefted him onto their bed, and straddled him to keep him in place. 

“Absolutely not. You haven’t slept in 4 days, you are not safe to drive, you are staying right here.”

He fixed her with a wide eyed stare, and then blinked a couple times. Checking the date on his alarm clock only proved her right. 

“But what about-”

“No.” She cut him off. “I’m going to call Henry and tell him you’re deliriously sleep deprived. You,” she pushed her hand to his chest, forcing him to lie back down. “are going to sleep.”

He tried to protest but she gave him a stern look that left no room for discussions. Feeling a tad put upon, William rolled onto his side as soon as she got off him. 

“I am not that tired…”

The next thing he knew he was waking up the beeping of his alarm.

~~~~~

Henry hadn’t expected to be working alone today, so Mrs. Afton’s call came as a surprise. He needed the extra set of hands, and Scott wasn’t around. So he sat there for a moment, contemplating how to handle the situation. William was usually the one who handled this sort of thing, so he felt a bit lost.

“Charlie?”

His daughter stepped forward, holding up two cans of spray paint. 

“Don’t worry, dad. I gotcha covered.”

[furaflictedhost]

HII! i really liked the last fic you did of the Afton Stupidity prompts!! ahhh I thought it was so cute and I like the scenario of William being/attempting to be a good dad it made me so happy and I really like your writing style ugghhh !!! <3 if it’s alright with you could I ask for Hysterical Giggling with William and Michael? I think it’d be interesting! feel free to do this at any point of the timeline, whether it be post/pre FNAF 4, post/pre-scoop, anything! :) sorry this message was long I just really liked your writing!!

Hello, Anon. I'm glad you enjoyed the story! No need to apologize for the long message, I enjoyed hearing your feedback. Here's "Hysterical Giggling" with William and Michael.

The new animatronics were supposed to be bolted to the stage. 

Emphasis on supposed to. 

They weren’t designed to wander, or be worn as suits like the old ones, so they were completely stationary and had been for the couple months Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria had been open. It also meant that they weren’t nearly as interactive as Spring Bonnie and Fredbear had been. William hadn’t been there to oversee their placement, and had put his faith in Henry’s ability to micromanage everything about the animatronics installation. 

Michael looked up at the mechanical animals, watching the stale boot up routine they did every morning. His father was discussing something or another with the manager before they opened for the day, leaving him to watch the same sequence several times in a row.

“Turn left, turn right, jaw open, jaw closed, blink several times, bow, rinse repeat.” Michael sighed, and folded his arms. It was always the same motions, over and over again. Of course it had been him voluntold to go with his father to Freddy’s. They were supposed to go out after this, a sort of father and son day, but it was raining so most of the things he had any interest in were closed. 

About to turn away from the repetitive performance, Michael noticed something odd. Freddy kept lurching forward and leaning backwards during the bow sequence, almost like it was rocking. The motion itself was fine, but the animatronic itself seemed to be unsteady. 

“Hey, Dad?” He called across the main room for his father’s attention. William held up a hand, motioning for him to wait, and Michael folded his arms irritably. 

“First he drags me here on a day that was supposed to be just the two of us, and forces me to watch his stupid machines, then he tells me to wait…” He called over again instantly, partially out of spite, partially because he felt the possibility of Freddy falling off the stage was more important than whatever William and Scott were discussing. 

“Dad!”

William turned to look at him, frustration clearly visible, before his expression very suddenly shifted to horror and he made a mad dash towards his son. Michael barely had time to react before he was tackled backwards by his father. 

A deafening thud filled his ears seconds before he and his father hit the floor. His vision swam from the sudden movement, but otherwise he felt fine. Confused, but fine. Looking over his father’s shoulder, Freddy was lying on the ground in the spot he had been not a moment ago. The animatronics' head casing had detached when it hit the floor, and its frame was bent from the force.

He felt a strange numbness as he looked up at his father. William was looking back at the several hundred-pound machine that had been seconds away from crushing his son. Then he looked down at Michael, expression clearly sharing the same numbness. 

There was silence for a long second, and then William started giggling, that nervous hysterical giggling that always happened post traumatic experience. Michael, shaky from the adrenalin, stared at his father blankly for a minute before the contagious giggling finally took over. They sat there on the floor, giggling like madmen, until Scott appeared above them. 

“Uh…Are you two okay?”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Michael shot him a thumbs up, and then looked back at the animatronic on the floor. Freddy was twitching lightly, still connected to power and attempting his startup sequence. Michael stayed on the floor while his father got up and looked at the stage. The bolts holding Freddy in place had snapped. 

Heaving a frustrated and nervous sigh, William tugged the bolts out of the stage, and inspected them. 

“Of course. These are not designed with the weight bearing capacity needed to hold Freddy.” He shoved the bolts into his pocket with a furious huff. “Scott, I need you to find me the technician who installed Freddy.” 

Scott nodded sharply, and headed for the office. Michael watched his father traverse the room and hit the shut off for the animatronics. A moment later his father was standing over him, hand extended to help him up, concern predominant in his expression. Michael let his father pull him to his feet, feeling very much like the animatronics on stage, limp and lifeless. 

“Should I take you home?”

Michael nodded slowly. Home sounded like a great idea.

[furaflictedhost]

Mhhh, from the prompt list... maybe "William... what the hell is that" with William and Michael, or maybe "Old Friends" with Michael and the Tormentors, maybe post-scoop? They're both cool, either are good for me!

Thank you for the Request! Here's "William...What the hell is that?" with William and Michael.

If William Afton was anywhere during the time he was home, it was one of two places. His office, or his workshop. Having crossed off the possibility of his office, Micheal made his way out to his father’s workshop. 

Making his way down the pathway to the barn his father had repurposed, he huffed. The air was warm, but he felt cold. Asking his father questions usually meant a several minute conversation, and he wasn’t sure he was up for it. 

The door was open, so he poked his head into the space. William was perched over his workbench, very intently focussed on whatever he was working on, and oblivious to his eldest son’s presence. 

“Father?”

William jumped, and fumbled the delicate piece of machinery in his hands, barely catching it before it hit the workbench. He placed down the actuator, and then turned to face Michael, an exasperated expression on his face.

“Evan, I already- Oh. Hello, Micheal.” He relaxed substantially, and turned back to his project. 

“Sorry, I thought you were your little brother. He has made a game of sneaking up on me. What do you need?” He made a motion for Micheal to sit down on the second stool next to the bench.

Michael fiddled with his sleeves, and sat down on the stool next to his father. As he was about to speak, he glanced over at his father’s project. Nothing that made sense to him, so he glanced at the notes, and then stopped cold, his question forgotten as he looked over his father’s notes. 

“William…What the hell is that?” 

His father looked over at him with an indignant huff. Motioning at him with his screwdriver, William gave him a very pointed look of annoyance.

“That’s ‘Father’ to you, young man. There are general rules of respect that I expect. I do not appreciate that sort of attitude.” 

Slipping his hand under his notebook, he flipped it closed without bothering to look at the page, and then turned back to his project. 

“As for that, It is a project I am working on with Henry. Nothing for you to worry about.”

He delicately placed the circuit board onto the back of the sheet of metal. Micheal shook his head, and folded his arms.

“Okay, sorry father, but-” He sputtered a couple times, trying desperately to find the words to describe the oddity he’d just witnessed the plans for.

His father gave him an amused glance.

“What’s the matter boy? Cat got your tongue?”

Michael felt his cheeks go red, and he lowered his head, face screwing up in irritation. He hated stuttering in front of his father, even though he knew William did the same thing when frustrated. 

Finally he just flipped open William’s notebook again to the page that was book marked and motioned wildly to the strange design.

It looked like a bunny costume, more awkwardly designed than his current Spring Bonnie suit. Its muzzle was square, and the head was huge, and not in a funny way. The costume was just ugly in the worst way.

William sighed and looked back at the notes to what was causing his son’s deeply confused expression. As soon as he saw the page, his expression shifted to a bombastic grin. 

“Oh that. No, that is…” He paused to chuckle. “That was the first design for the Springlock iteration of Spring Bonnie. Dear god, that design was so bad.” 

Shaking his head with a smile, he picked up the notebook, and shuddered before flipping it closed. Then folding his hands, he leaned forward so Michael knew he had his father’s full attention. 

“Now, I am certain you didn’t come out here to bug me about my bad design choices. What did you need, Michael.”

Leaning back, Michael struggled to unbury his question from his mound of muddled thoughts. He had come out here for a reason, but had gotten distracted. William was giving him the look. That look always meant his father was losing interest. 

“I-uh…Um. I was wondering if I could invite the guys over?” 

“No.”

“What!? Why?” Michael hunched forward, convinced his father was saying no just to spite him.

“Because we are having Henry and Charlie over in about-” He glanced at his watch. ‘Half an hour, and your mother wouldn’t appreciate the extra people.” 

Noticing the petulant irritation on his eldest’s face, William had to fight to keep from chuckling. He placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder to reassure him.

“I know, I am the worst father ever, making you wait until tomorrow to see your friends.”

Michael shrugged, and relaxed a bit. It was a jest, yes, but it meant he had his father’s permission to see them, he just had to wait one more day. He could handle that. 

“Yeah, you’re horrible.” He playfully nudged his father’s hand from his shoulder, and hopped off the stool. “Thanks dad.” William smirked, and waved him off. 

“Not a problem. Run along then.”

With the dismissal, Michael made a dash back towards the house. At least he would get to see Charlie tonight. That was the awesome thing about having Henry over so often. Charlie was always up for video games. 

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity Prompt List

Afton Family Stupidity won the interest poll by a land slide, so here’s the prompt list as it stands now. 

As the title says, Afton Family Stupidity is little random things in the everyday life of the Afton family. These stories don’t have to be read sequentially and don’t have a particular order to them. They jump all over the timeline, and each story is self-contained, so none of the stories are required to understand the next one, unless it’s a part 2 of something. 

I will take requests from this list, but I will also take requests for prompts that aren’t from the list. If you have a specific character in mind for the story, feel free to add that to the request. Have fun!

Continua a leggere

[zofi-persson]

Oooooh, I like this! Will you write this on Tumblr or where? And how do we ask the prompts? I’m so excited!

[furaflictedhost]

@zofi-persson Thank you for the questions! I will be writing these on Tumblr, and you can ask prompts through the Tumblr inbox or through reblogging this post.

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity Prompt List

Afton Family Stupidity won the interest poll by a land slide, so here’s the prompt list as it stands now. 

As the title says, Afton Family Stupidity is little random things in the everyday life of the Afton family. These stories don’t have to be read sequentially and don’t have a particular order to them. They jump all over the timeline, and each story is self-contained, so none of the stories are required to understand the next one, unless it’s a part 2 of something.

How to request a story: I will accept requests through the Tumblr inbox.

I will take requests from this list, but I will also take requests for prompts that aren’t from the list. If you have a specific character in mind for the story, feel free to add that to the request. Have fun!

The noodle

Week old Coffee

“William…What the hell is that?”

“Daddy, What’s a —--”

Video Games

Spring Bonnie

The Foxy Mask

“Father? What does **** mean?”

Old wounds

Mr. Afton has a moment

Little projects

“What do you mean your project is due in 5 hours?”

“Get off the counter!”

Bunnies

“What on earth is a dingus?”

Old friends

That stupid bunny costume

“You did what?!”

“So, hypothetically…”

Sleep Deprivation

Nightmares

“Oh no, Dad’s turned into a zombie again.”

“That was dumb.”

“What were you thinking?”

Voice acting

“This was a disaster.” 

Hysterical Giggling

Ice Cream

“Movie Night was a terrible idea.”

Jazz hands

“I left the animatronics on!”

Training Wheels

“What does it mean by ‘launch the train’?”

Plushtrap

Spiders

Murder bunny

“Stop breaking my toys!”

Food Fight

“Officer, I can explain.”

Officer Dunn(with life)

Dave

Dumb Spring Locks

“Do you have any games on your phone?”

Adam West Vs. Animated Series (Batman Battle)

“How does anyone find that funny?”

Arcade Machine

Malfunction

"Freddy Fazballs”

No, just no.

“What madman designed you!”

“Because I don’t care.”

Toy Chica’s design

“You can’t just walk in here and demand candy.”

Speaker Test

Dr. Henry Miller

“How did I get here?”

The Ned

Scott the Phone-Man

Bubbles

Marionette

The Night Shift

“There are kids around, sicko.”

Fever

“Foxy, leave me alone!”

Stabby

“Engineering for dummies.”

“You fool.”

Safety Dance

Ghosts

Buttons

[furaflictedhost]

I am currently working on several FNaF stories. Which ones sound interesting?

Lost Times

Kingdom of Springlocks

Afton Family Stupidity

Springlocked Memories

Salvaged Mind

Voting ended onJun 19, 2023

Here are the synopsis of some of the different stories.

Lost Times:

What would happen if everything we know of the current timeline was a nightmare? How do you tell reality from fiction? Will William take the time to better himself with his seeming second chance, or will he use his newfound knowledge to improve his scheme for immortality?

Kingdom of Springlocks:

Evan and Michael are catapulted into a world where animatronics are their own creatures like humans. The boys get taken in by Springtrap, the exiled king, who’s being hunted by his own royal guard. How long will they survive?

Afton Family Stupidity:

A series of short stories of the Afton family every day life and funny scenarios. This one is based on a prompt list, but will also be open to requests.

Spriglocked Memories:

Springtrap has awoken with no memories of his past, and the employees of Fazbears Fright just sort of accept him. Meet Yin, the newest employee of Fazbears Fright as they work together to figure out more about his past. (I’ve seen this one kicked around a couple times and wanted to try my hand at it.)

Salvaged Mind:

Follow Vanessa Andreyes as she tries to uncover the secrets of Fieldburrow Asylum after its mysterious fire 30 years ago. Discover the story of the Salvage, a inmate left behind during the chaos, mysteriously entombed in an old animatronic. (This one is a ‘readers choose the next path’ story.)

If there’s more than one that sounds interesting, feel free to put which ones in the tags!

[flowerais-deactivated20211031]

Things that take time & many tries to get right:

learning to be a good friend/partner

healing from depression, failures or heartbreak

becoming amazing at an art or skill

overcoming anxiety, insecurities and low body image

overcoming the need to isolate yourself

changing self-hating thoughts to kinder ones

making a real connection with someone

overcoming self-defeating and self-sabotaging thoughts

learning how to study effectively

finding a sense of stability and calmness at your core

quitting habits or addictions

leaving people and behaviours that turn you into the worst version of yourself

getting used to healthier coping mechanisms & mindsets that feel fake

treating yourself like you truly care about yourself

becoming the person you always wanted to be

[silver-tongues-blog]

We should be fine as long as we do not reblog bread.

[xikar]

Question.

I’ve rebogged bread.

[doublereversequadrupleagent-blo]

What?

[arthurkingsmen-archive-deactiva]

I have done nothing but reblog bread for the past three days.

[blurry-yeensman]

Where, where have you been sending it?!

[infamouslydorky]

[impiusangelus]

I love how there are more reblogs than likes

[chuckdrawsthings]

identity

[furaflictedhost]

An alternative WKM

I am not sure what else to say, besides I know AHWM just came out, but here. Have my strange alternate version of WKM. Brief warning, I am not a very good author, and I wrote this a while ago, but I hope you enjoy.

Content warnings: self harm, delusions, possible sanity problems, extremely old writing,if I missed any let me know

She couldn't remember the last time she saw him cry, and frankly, she didn’t care.

He was sobbing, and she just stood there, watching her husband cry at her feet.

Mark looked up at Celine, tears flowing freely from his sleepless and sunken eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

She shook her head, only to vanish into the darkness that surrounded them, leaving him alone, stranded in a nightmare.

Mark woke up screaming. He sat bolt upright, and clutched his pillow close to his chest, attempting to stop the free flow of tears on his face. His eyes darted around, catching sight of his room around him.

The silence was deafening as he climbed out of bed, throwing his robe on over the simple pajamas. One of the many turntables in the manor crackled to life, Mark putting a record on so the silence was shattered.

The window ledge seemed particularly inviting, so he opened the window, and sat there, looking out over the vastness of the garden and courtyard. The cold breeze that fluttered over him calmed the tenacity of nightmares, pale moonlight washing out his already pale skin.

“I can’t remember what it was like, Before all this madness.”

The demon perched next to him, watching over his shoulders.

“Why do you continue to stall? They deserve this.”

Mark closed his eyes, seeing only darkness, and fearing that the darkness would eventually cloud his judgement.

“Because I would rather she be happy then get revenge, And they were my childhood friends, they don’t deserve this.”

It vanished, leaving him alone once again. He glanced over the closet, thinking about the revolver that he kept in there. Perhaps...No. The knife would be a better option, not to mention quieter.

He rifled through his dresser, and pulling a dagger from its sheath in the boundless depths of his clothes. The ringing in his ears only getting louder as he pulled down the sleeve of his robe, exposing the skin of his wrists.

He slowly pressed the blade to his skin, relishing the sweet feeling of pain.

Mark woke up with the blade still sheathed in his lower abdomen. He can’t remember what happened the previous night. Sitting up, he discovered he was sitting in a pool of his own blood.

How was he not dead? Lucky, he guessed. The butler was shocked when he walked in, only to see Mark attempting to pull the knife from his lower chest, and mistook this for him stabbing himself. He panicked, and ran over, assisting him with the removal.

“What happened?”

Mark glanced up at him, and shrugged. “I tripped.” was his simple reply. He didn't know why he lied, it was bound to happen again. Benjamin bandaged the wound, and set to work cleaning the blood from the hardwood floor.

Mark didn’t bother changing, only heading to the downstairs balcony. The pool seemed welcoming, perhaps a swim later. He looked over the edge of the balcony, and out onto the small golf course.

He spotted a small figure dressed in tan standing out in the field. Mark quickly recognised the Colonel, and grimaced. He was fairly certain that it was he who ran off with his wife.

The Colonel walked over, having noticed the other man.

“Mark! How are things? I haven't seen you much since i heard about you and Celine, it seems you're always hold up in that manner of yours, or your room when I visit.” The flamboyant man slung an arm around his shoulders.

Mark replied simply “Im fine, everything's fine. Why are you here?”

WIlliam could tell nothing was fine, but by god, the man's wife just left him, so he didn't press.

“I'm here with Mr. Mayor.He wanted to come see you, and I can’t say no those adorable puppy dog eyes.”

Mark nodded, only to see Mayor Damien walk from the house, walking over to join them near the edge. His was twisting his cane between his hands as he spoke.

“There you are, Mark. I came to check on you. You have been very… antisocial as of late.”

Mark smiled. The one friend he felt had not turned on him. “Hello, Damien. Im assure you, im fine, just a little tired. How are you?”

Damien smiled, going to stand next to William. “I am well, actually. It's been an interesting last few weeks.”

Mark raised an eyebrow as William laced an arm around Damiens back as the Mayor spoke.

He played up his facade of being alright. “Well? Care to tell me?”

Damien smiled shyly. “Well, for instance… I am in a relationship now, along with the fact that I finally got the grant for the school that they have been asking for.”

Mark grinned, “and whos the lucky Gal?”

Damien glanced down. “Gent, actually. William and I are Dating.”

Mark nearly died all over again. “You and Will? Good job Will, But I didn't peg you for being bi.” A wry smirk spread across his lips

William grinned. “Im Gay, Dami is Bi.” He corrected.

Mark was extremely confused, but very happy at the same time. William cant have taken off with Celine if he was with Damien, because Damien would watch him like a hawk. He felt… a lot better.

He smiled, and patted Damien on the shoulder. “Your lucky.” he turned to William, and playfully said “Don't you hurt him, or i'll have to hunt you down, and I can't imagine what Celine would do to you.”

William laughed. “She would tear out my heart and feed it to me, I can tell you that much.”

They talked for a while, before it was eventually decided that the couple would be sleeping over. Mark sat on the balcony railing after they went inside. He felt the cool breeze once again, but it felt more calming than usual.

He turned, and nearly fell off the balcony. Celine was standing a few feet away, and was staring at him, worry evident on her face at him appearance.

“Mark? What are you doing?”

Mark slowly walked towards her, as if he was afraid she would vanish. He pulled her into a hug, that she graciously accepted.

“Hey, Mark? Why Are you crying? You knew I was coming back, right?”

Mark pulled away suddenly, looking at her square in the face. “I received a note in your handwriting saying that you didn't love me, and had found another man, William. I had reason to assume you weren't coming home.”

Celine looked shocked. “I left you a note, but it said nothing of the sort. I left to help Damien ease into his new relationship with William, and I knew I had to leave early, so I left you a note explaining that very thing, and that I would be gone for a few weeks.”

Mark started crying, hugging her close again. “I'm just glad your home…” She patted him, and then asked where the note was. He nodded, leading her up to his study. He dug through the notes for the most recent movie, only to produce a note, handing it to her.

She read the note, frowning deeply. “I fear this may have been tampered with by outside forces.”

Mark looked up at her from his chair. “Like what?”

She turned to him. “Have you been hearing voices around the house?”

He nodded, explaining the weird but tolerable house demon that kept bugging him at late hours.

Celine looked worried. “The Entity. This could be the reason.”

He shrugged, taking in the sight of his beloved Celine. There was silence between the two of them, but that was enough said. Unspoken words lead the two outside again. There was a nod from Celine, and Mark smirked, and grabbed her hand, leaping into the pool, dragging her in with him.

She laughed in surprise, and at the fact that Mark got tangled in his robe, before removing it for movement under water. She was swimming in a dress, so she wasn't in much better shape.

Mark laughed at her struggles, and swam under her, picking her up bridal style, and swimming to surface.

It was a pleasant swim, and the two were now laying under the summer stars. Laughter drifted up to the heavens as the two talked. Eventually the conversation died, Celine having had fallen asleep. The bigger man picked her up, and carried her up to their shared room, drying her off, and laying her on the king sized bed.

Instead of laying down next to her, he went and sat on the window cill, once again looking out over the garden. He smiled, and stepped down, closing the window. That time was over. He laid down on his side of the bed, cuddling up with the smaller female. He found himself falling asleep much easier that night.

Celine woke up the next morning cuddled into a very broad chest.

She started only to realize she was home, and that was just Mark. Celine laughed slightly, and poked him, waking the slumbering male. He snorted,and blinked blearily, looking down at her, a happy smile spreading across his face. “G’,morning, Celine.”

She smiled. “Good morning, Mark. You are very warm.”

He laughed, and let her move, pulling his arms back, only to have her pull him back.

“You aren't going anywhere, buster.” He laughed, snuggling up to her.

Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes as he inhaled her scent, it calming his nerves. He didn’t want to ever move, she was safe, happy and warm where he could be with her, and no one would take her from him.

It was perfect.

A little too perfect, hmm?

I don’t know how to link it, but there is a part 2 with...angst? Sort of.

[furaflictedhost]

An Alternative Wkm part 2

I don’t know how to link a post to another post, but I tried. Here is part 2 of the story.

Content warnings: Self harm, questionable sanity, delusions, old writing, let me know if I missed anything

The morning went smoothly, once they got up. Mostly spending time together, and enjoying each other's presence, while talking on the couch.

He was actually enjoying himself for the first time in a while, when a voice brought him from his conversation.

He turned to look at Benjamin who was staring at him oddly.

“Master? Are you alright?” He nodded and reached over, putting his arm on the back of the couch. Benjamin looked down at his hands before speaking again. “You have been talking to yourself for a while… and talking to mistress, but she isn’t here, Master… I’m worried about you.”

He frowned and looked over next to him, and opened his mouth to say that was preposterous. When he opened his eyes from blinking, there was no one beside him.

Mark scrambled to put his hand on the place where the love of his life had just been, to not find a trace of warmth to prove his eyes wrong. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Tears began to roll down his cheeks, and he just stared at the empty space beside him. He was finally able to utter one word. “Damien?”

Benjamin nodded, and walked out of the room. Never feeling so alone, Mark curled up on the couch, feeling blood flow out of the over saturated bandages.

‘I should be dead… so why aren’t I?’

He waited for hours, the demon whispering sweet little things in his ear, and he was beginning to believe them. Maybe William did deserve to die. Maybe he should kill him, and then himself. But suicide dosnt seem to work so far...no, it was a freak survival, he just has to try again.

He mustered ever ounce of energy he had and pushed himself off the couch. Falling to the floor, he laid there, staring at the chandelier on the top floor. It was beautiful, dust clinging to the beautiful edges. It almost reminded him of Celine...no, focus.

He stood up, and trudged up the stairs. Once in his room, he stumbled over the wardrobe, and threw open the doors, and opened the panel that hid the revolver he sought.

Once the cool metal of the muzzle hit his palm, he yanked the gun out, and flipped open the chamber. Fully loaded.

He grinned, breathing increasing as he brought the barrel to the underside of his jaw. He squeezed the trigger, and the noise was deafening.

Pain exploded through his head, and Mark coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as he collapsed to the floor.

When he awoke, the sun was in his eyes, and there was a sharp knocking at his door. He sat up, and coughed, more blood spilling out of his mouth. The bullet hit the floor along with the blood, congealing in an odd puddle.

He was...alive. He closed his robe around his body, trapping the warmth around him. Blood was dried around a new scar under his chin, and he wiped it off, cleaning off the traces around his neck.

He stood to his feet wobbly, and stumbled over to the door. He peeked from inside, only to see Benjamin standing in the hallway. “Master? I fetched Mr. Mayor like you requested. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Mark nodded. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Once the door was closed, He leaned against the door. A grin slowly spread itself across his face. He can’t die. This power felt dangerous, but he loved it.

He cleaned the blood from his neck, and fixed his hair, before removing his robe and shirt to put on a clean one. Something caught his eye in the mirror. He turned to face himself, and saw scars on his chest he had never seen before, but somehow knew the story behind. His entire chest and neck were littered with these scars, and a few patterned across his wrists.

Chuckles bubbled up in his chest and he slowly started laughing, feeling sanity begin to slip from his grasp. ‘What the hell am I doing!?’ He clutched his head, and fell to his knees.

The world around him split into two, one red and the other blue, purple mixing in the middle, as the world around him fell apart. It tore away slowly and he was left in darkness, only a candle in front of him for light. ‘Where did that come from?’

When the light came fading back, he knew what he had to do. In his right mind, he would have thought this was ludicrous, but it seemed like a perfect idea right now.

He got to his feet, and walked out, ignoring the fact that he was shirtless, and walked downstairs, throwing on his robe to cover the new scars. Damien was standing near the edge of the stairs, and walked over to greet his old friend.

“Hello, Mark. Are you alright!?”

He reeled back, looking at the sunken eyes of his childhood friend. Damien put his hands on Marks Shoulders, looking into his slightly dull eyes.

Mark barely noticed him, and made an effort to focus on the Mayor, grinning.

“Hello, Damien! How are you?”

Damien smiled gently, seeing his friend light up at his presence. Mark played up his usual charisma, and found himself nearly being able to keep the facade. His smile was simply a mask. A thing warn to hide his broken persona.

Damien and him talked for what must have been hours, but Mark could barely remember any of it, until Damien gently pushed Mark back onto the couch, and settled himself in his lap.

Mark was a little taken back, but looked up at the stern faced Mayor.

“I’ll have you know I’m not moving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Damien stared down at him with determination, and Mark started laughing. “Fine, I’ll tell you. I have reason to believe your sister, My Wife, Celine, is cheating on me with William.”

Benjamin looked up at the two of them from the other room. Damien looked like he had just been shot. “W-What? Colonel William? That William?”

Mark nodded, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Dames, that William. Why?”

Damien began to cry, climbing off Marks lap, and sitting down next to him, burying his head in his hands.

Placing a hand on Damien’s back, Mark was extremely confused. What he had seen last night was all fake wasn’t it? Damien and William were nothing more than friends.

“Damien? What’s wrong?”

Damien looked up at him, lips trembling.

“William….we need to get him here. Now.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

The mayor sighed, and wiped the still falling tears off his face. “William and I...we are..were a thing… he was my Husband…”

Mark almost laughed. This was hilarious, two betrayals in one story. That’s just how William rolled, he didn’t stick to one person.

Benjamin nodded and went to call William here after Mark nodded to him.

Mark held Damien close, comforting his lifelong friend. Damien clung to him like he was the only thing that mattered in his shattered world, cane forgotten next to them.

Once the doors were thrown open, Mark looked up at The Colonel who stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at Damien. Mark smiled bitterly. Triumph. He had possibly stolen Williams other half, just like he had done.

“Damien? What happened?”

Damien looked up at his husband, anger and Betrayal in his eyes. He stood up and walked over, gripping his cane like he was ready to attack him. He went up and stood a few feet away from the other man.

William looked extremely worried, and upset. “Damien, what-“

“You know, I must ask how My sister is doing, William.” His lips were quivering as he spoke. He looked into Williams eyes, searching as he spoke.

“Damien, I have no idea, we haven’t spoken for a while. I think she is ok?”

He reached forward, attempting to caress his cheek, and Damien moved backwards. William looked like he had just been struck.

“I was informed that you were seeing her, and was curious. You seem to be away from home an awful lot. Mark knows, so you can be honest,Will.”

Damien looked up at him, tears falling from his glassy eyes while Mark stood in the back, watching. The smirk on his face was sickening.

William looked shocked, and upset. “No, Dami, sweetheart, I would never do that. You know I don’t like girls in that way, especially your sister. She and Mark are a thing aren’t they?”

Mark sneered. “Were a thing. She said she left me for you.”

William looked shocked, and then extremely angry. “Celine was lying then. I don’t love her, and I never will. She is my friend, and nothing more.”

He put his hands on Damien’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

“I love you, don’t you ever forget that. And I made a vow, one I don’t intend to break.” He lifted his hand, and entertained it with Damien’s, the gold band on his finger enforcing the strong words.

Damien started sobbing once again, and hugged him, burying his head in his chest, before pulling back, and looking him in the eyes.

He gently took Williams hand and pressed it to his cheek, before placing something in it, and pressing it to his chest, and walking away. William looked down at his hand, and looked up at Damien. A simple gold band sat in his hand, making his heart weigh more than the gun in the holster at his hip. He ran after him, falling to his knees in front of him.

He took Damien’s hand, and desperately tried to put the ring back on his hand, but Damien pulled back, recoiling his hand. “I gave you one last chance, William, to redeem yourself, by not lying to me. I was aware of the possibility that you were cheating on me, but refused to admit it to myself. This was your last chance, William.”

Damien started crying harder, nearly unable to speak, but able to spit out a few sentences through sobs.

“I love you, William, more than anything. But you shattered the trust. I can’t be married to someone who cheats on me with my sister. Good bye, William.”

With that, he turned and sat down on the couch, tears rolling down his face. William refused to let this happen, and he walked over to him, gently sitting down next to him.

He pulled him close, while still clutching the ring in hand. Damien looked up at him, and tried to pull away. William held him close. “Damien...please let me explain my side of what you think is happening before you decide to find the divorce papers.”

Damien finally nodded, and hugged him closer, burying his face in the taller man’s chest.

Mark watched from the other side of the couch, being forced to watch a spurt of the moment idea fall to pieces.

It appeared breaking Damien and William up, and stealing him was off the table. William talked to Damien while Mark watched, and let it happen, not bothering to influence the outcome anyway.

Damien ended up calling Celine to the house so this could be sorted out.

The manor was mostly quiet with the exception of Damien’s quiet sobs while William held him close.

When the door was thrown open, Celine stormed through the door, and went directly to Damien. She knelt on the couch, and placed a hand on his knee.

“Damien, I’m going to apologize right now. William is not cheating on you with me. Yes, I did write that note to Mark, but I used him as an excuse to get away from Mark, because he never let me out. William was in on it, and we were working together to figure something out for me, and that must have been hard for you, being kept in the dark. I’m so sorry, Damien.”

She looked pointedly up at Mark, and Mark just about started crying like Damien. This was all over a miscommunication. He was never home because of work, but she was allowed to leave whenever she wanted. When he said don’t go anywhere, it was a joke.

He walked over, nearly tripping over his robes. “Celine? Can we talk?”

Celine raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Mark?” He walked over, and stood in front of the couch, and noted Damien cuddling William like he had himself half an hour ago. He was once again wearing his wedding ring.

“Celine, I was joking when I said don’t go anywhere. You were always free to leave whenever you wanted. This is as much my house as yours.” He looked at her, eyes glassy.

She looked up at him, the angle she was at gave her a perfect view of his scar.

Celine stood up, and looked at his scar, before putting a hand on it. “I was? Your butler wouldn’t let me. Where did you get this?”

Mark looked down at her, and smiled slightly. “Is that the only reason for this? You wanted freedom? You always had it.”

Benjamin looked mildly worried. Mark shot him a look, and he shuffled from the room. Celine looked up at him, smirking. “Yeah, I guess...but can I come home? I’m sorry for the misunderstanding…”

Mark nodded. “Please?”

She pointed to the scar,before running her finger down his chest and suddenly yanking open the robes exposing the scars on his chest. She gasped, and stepped back, and Williams eyes went wide, Damien shrinking backwards into his chest.

Celine ran her hand over the scars. “Where did these come from?”

He shrugged. “I actually have no idea for most, but these two were from suicide attempts. I apparently refuse to die for some reason.” She looked up at him, shock evident in her eyes.

“Mark, why? Why would you do that?”

He looked down at her, lips pressing into a flat line. “Because I thought the love of my life had left me, for one of my childhood friends.”

She looked stunned, before hugging him tightly. “Don’t ever do that again. I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

He nodded, patting her back, holding her close. This, this was nice.

Perhaps he was alright? He opened his eyes, and for a brief moment saw the manner, boarded up, dusty, cobwebs and blood everywhere. He clutched Celine tighter, the manor appearing normal again.

She smiled, and leaned up to kiss him, it was quick and sweet but it was a kiss. They spent the rest of the night talking.

Mark looked down at the photograph he held in his hand, the memory coming to a close. ‘If only it stayed that way.’ He thought, his studio feeling extremely empty, despite Amy and Chica being just outside.

He smiled, placing the photo down in its drawer, covering the hidden story and its happy memories with it. He missed them. Celine, Damien,William, now what he has was Darkiplier, and Wilford. Two creatures bent on killing him, instead of his childhood friends that he cared for so dearly.

‘Until we meet again, Dark. Damien, Celine. I’m so sorry.’

Until then, he will continue to put on this mask, fake a smile, and live life happily, with his dark looming past.

“Hello, everybody, My name is Markiplier, and welcome back to-“

Perhaps that’s a thought best left for another day.