Missing my ivory tower a great deal. I like: -Gothic, Lolita, and various other subcultures - Creepy/beautiful art - more unusual styles of clothing, jewellery and make up Creepy-cute dolls -Staring at beautiful people of all races, sizes and genders - Books -Fantasy, horror, historical fiction and the odd bit of Sci Fi -Paranormal stuff (even if fake) and Forteana -Star Wars Trash since 1997. Currently local chapter president of The 'Kylo Ren is a Hot Mess' Society. -Takarazuka (esp. Mizu Natsuki ) and musicals
there was something almost unfair about it. at work, everyone spoke about Mr. Afton as though he were several different men stitched together with invisible thread.
one waitress insisted he was the sweetest employer she'd ever met, always thanking the kitchen staff before leaving. one mechanic swore the man barely blinked and had once stared at an animatronic for nearly an hour without moving. another cashier giggled that he cracked terrible jokes that only he laughed at. someone in costume whispered he looked frightening when he became lost in thought or coldly aggressive answer with short, clipped words, posture stiffens into a rigid line — like he just lost into a place nobody else could ever know what happened.
how odd. you never knew which version was real. the weirdest thing was that he was almost never there. the restaurant belonged to him, yes, but most days he was tucked away in workshops, meetings, warehouses — somewhere behind locked doors where blueprints multiplied like rabbits. to most employees, william afton was more rumor than employer.
another day, thereafter, as the amber light of a fading thursday dissolved into dusk, you found yourself gathering a rustic, flour-dusted loaf and a cool vessel of cream from the quaint, hidden druggist of a grocer nestled on the town’s distant edge
you spotted him.
this time, in front of your view — he's not in purple stage clothes, or neatly suits, not a mascot one either.
william was standing in front of the cereal aisle, frowning at two nearly identical boxes, for a second your brain simply refused to load. 'mr. afton buys cereal??'
of course he did.
the realization felt strangely embarrassing, as though you'd caught a magician taking off his cape. you immediately looked away. pretend you don't know him. he's just another customer. as you wandered toward another aisle with all the grace of someone trying very hard not to look suspicious.
therefore, without even turning around and lifting his eyes from the shelf, his calm voice drifted through the aisle.
"you're hiding behind the canned tomatoes rather poorly."
you froze silently before ever blurting out.
"...g... good afternoon, mr. afton."
only then did he glance sideways, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "afternoon." nothing more — as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. even after that...it kept happening. you'd pass the old movie theater. there he was, reading the posters with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.
you decides to quietly walk the other direction, without looking, he spoke up. "the science-fiction one's dreadful. save your money."
at the town bookstore, you reached for a novel, another hand reached for the same one.
"... uh"
william sighed through his nose dramatically. "take it. i already own three copies."
"...why three?"
"one for reading. one for lending. one because i forgot i already owned two."
one rainy evening, waiting for the bus — you both stood several feet away, neither of you spoke. then...
"you're allowed to say hello outside work, you know."
you looks away, fiddling your fingertips nervously, "...i didn't want to bother you."
he looked genuinely puzzled. "by existing near a bus stop?"
eventually you realized something. william always recognized his employees long before they noticed him. not because he was watching them — he actually... remembered them. not just names, but faces. the dishwasher whose daughter liked bonnie, the teenager saving for college, the cashier who always wore sunflower hair clips, the baker who hummed while kneading dough. every of tiny details — the sort of things people assumed successful businessmen forgot. it was the funniest habit, though, was that he almost always greeted you first. it was as though conversation simply escaped him whenever he recognized someone.
other day you finally have the turn to ask him.
"...mr— william, why do you always say hello first, to me?"
william blinked slowly with one arching eyebrow. "because we're already acquainted?"
"as..your employee?"
"as a person."
he said it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded like a silly question. "seems a shame to pretend strangers after we've spent months working in the same building." then, after a thoughtful pause, that familiar little smile appeared. "besides... watching you pretend not to recognize me has become one of my favorite recurring comedies."
you covered your face in embarrassment. "so you noticed every time?"
"every single one."
"..."
"your escape strategies are getting more creative, though. last tuesday you inspected a newspaper rack for six minutes."
"hah no i-i wasn't hiding!"
"mm." his grin grew just a fraction wider. "then hurricane must have developed the most fascinating newspaper rack in utah, i see."
★ author note ━━━━━ sorry for not posting any content for a long time, i was lowkey trying to write the other longgg unfinished oneshots for william x reader and other stuff •́ ‿ ,•̀
hm. what if afton was a bit of a yankeeboo. like of course, him being so captivated by the idea of living the american dream, being a capitalist through and through, that's obvious. but what if he also held genuine interest in like appalachia (hence spring bonnie playing the banjo..), the south, the amish, the midwest, and other less 'obvious', more localized aspects of american culture (less obvious to an average european, at least). maybe he chose to live in utah in part because he wanted a first row seat to observe mormons in their natural habitat, like an irl nature documentary (not that he respects them, mind you.)
further yapping below the cut cause i know when most people see a wall of text they just tend to skip lol
some people tend to make Being British a big part of his identity, something he'd be snobbish about, eg. i've seen somebody come up with the idea that 4th of july celebrations would be banned in the afton household out of his contempt for americans. but its pretty much canon that this guy cannot stand himself lol - which would not contradict his narcissism; in my mind he loves himself almost as much as he hates himself. he sets the bar high for himself because he believes he truly is above others and has the capacity to accomplish whatever he sets out to do. but because he's not actually as much of a demigod as he wants to believe himself to be (or as he needs to believe himself to be), the inevitable failure to meet those absurd standards causes him to feel immense self-contempt, which he "deals with" later on by terrorizing himself, his family & everybody unfortunate enough to be caught in his orbit. also with his tendency to play characters as a means of escaping from pain (& from himself in general, in my opinion), i could see him moving across the globe as another instance of this; attempting to "leave himself behind" and start completely anew, to become something else, something greater... but he can't ever escape himself, and funnily enough, he doesn't even truly want to, because he also simultaneously believes himself to be great - intelligent, capable, so so charming, just lovable. if he could only rebuild his image in a controlled way, shine a light on the best parts of himself..
also i have this awesome headcanon that most of the stupid merchbait fnaf ar skins were his designs. meaning the man behind the slaughter was also the brain behind liberty chica
(short little wivi drabble i wrote in one sitting. sorry if it is Bad. i did not edit this.)
this was based on a small idea i had that a spirit cannot possess an animatronic fully until it is faced with the most important thing that was in it’s life while alive.
william has to come to terms with the fact that vi was his everything; even more than himself.
they are the only thing that can awaken him.
🍀 motivating factor 🍀
-
William thought immortality would be fun.
It was all the man ever wanted. Every waking moment, he imagined life beyond any possible span. His sharp cheekbones and graying locks stuck in a permanently seasoned state, aging complete.
William never wanted to change beyond what they loved.
Their name couldn’t come to mind, no matter what he tried. He was in the cool grey room he always was, reflecting the shade of his irises. He knew they were there, when the paint shifted to a warmer olive.
“You don’t want to speak to me?” They asked, glancing down toward the seated man. William felt stupid, hunching over like this, but he saw no point in looking at what had no face. An odd green blur always stood in place of it.
“No.” He murmured coldly. “I’ve told you to leave me be.”
“Then…” The voice hesitated as they slowly crouched next to William. “Why do you keep me here? I can’t exactly just leave of my own volition. ‘m not real.”
“Then why do you sound real?” William interjected, whipping his head toward them in frustration. “You could stay silent. You could never come closer to me at all, yet you-“
Silver eyes flew uncharacteristically wide at the change in visual.
This spirit had never possessed so many features. They had discernible clothes, this time. A green turtleneck sweater. Jeans. Thick spirals of hair fell down their shoulders like a waterfall, albeit blurry. They still had no facial features, but the face itself was more defined. They appeared more like an artist’s doll than a formless cloud, this time.
William felt a lump form in his throat. Not from sadness, but from pure amazement at this painting amongst a room that had been so empty for so long.
“…This is them, isn’t it?” The spirit asked, voice more tangible than previously psychic. “It’s how you remember them?”
“Don’t speak to me.” He said, cursing the slight tremble in his voice. “Don’t…” His brow twitched. “Tempt me, with what I can never ha-“
“They still need you.” The figure insisted, hand lifting to brush William’s forearm. “Don’t you understand that they’ve been waiting, just for you?”
“I was wrong, about all of it. This, it’s all that’s left.” He said, eyes fixated on the wall. “I’m dead. I’m just dead.” The figure shook their head.
“You don’t have to die. You can go on. It’s not over.” William remained quiet. So many similar conversations had occurred, over the years he’d guessed his soul had been in limbo. Unchanged by time, but unmoving.
The spirit’s voice lowered to a lower register, tinged with frustration.
“Don’t you know you can have whatever you want?”
He couldn’t move.
“Don’t you know who you are?”
He didn’t know, not anymore.
“Don’t you know Melissa is what you deserve?!”
-
-
-
Dark eyes scanned over the animatronic, brushing their curled fringe aside with a hand.
“You’re sure this is inactive, Mr. Mortar?” Vi asked, glancing toward the tall man adjacent to her.
“Unfortunately.” Griffin sighed, crossing his forearms across his chest. “I mean, it’s what you’d expect from an animatronic so old, but man, it’s disappointing.”
“…Some things are meant to stay buried.” Vi murmured, going to sit up from their crouched position until their eyes narrowed. “Hey, Mr. Mortar?”
“Griffin’s fine, dude.” The man mused. Vi’s eyes scanned the animatronic.
“Spring Bonnie is supposed to have plastic eyes. They fit right here.” They paused, gesturing to the plastic rings lodged in the eye sockets. “Y’can’t really remove ‘em, unless the thing is in suit mode.”
“Hm.” Griffin emoted, placing a hand to his stubbled chin in thought. “Got me, man. Maybe they fell out in transit.” Vi shook their head adamantly.
“No, no, it…” Her brows furrowed. “They’re almost…impossible to remove. If they fell out during a performance, the kids would be downright horrified. That’s why they made them so difficult to remove. The workers would only take them out so they could see while…” Vi trailed off, body freezing in horror.
The stains littering the suit.
The lack of eyes.
The smell.
Vi nearly yelped, scooting away from the animatronic in horror.
“Oh, God, no. Oh, Jesus, don’t tell me he’s in that suit! Not his body!” They shrieked, turning to look away from the rabbit. Trembling hands covered their face in horror. Griffin’s typically joyful expression shifted to abject horror.
“What the hell are you talking about, Melissa-“
“There’s a body! In that-that fucking suit!” They said, jabbing a finger towards it. “Griffin, you have to get rid of it.”
“What’re you talking about, a body? Melissa, it smells because it’s old-“
“Yes, old. And rotting. It’s a…it’s a fucking health hazard, keeping that thing here.” Vi panted.
“Listen, Melissa.” Griffin said, placing a hand upon Vi’s trembling shoulder. “I think we should go back to the office and take a breather, okay? I’m not going to go anywhere until you’re feeling better.” After a pause, Vi nodded.
“…Okay. I’m sorry, it’s just…” She chewed her lip, not knowing what else to say. “I’m just…” Griffin shook his head.
“It’s alright. We’ll sit in the office and run the fan. Should help calm you down.” Vi took a few deep breaths before steeling themself to move. The two turned to go toward the office.
A sound.
Another.
Before Vi could whip her head around, something metallic seized her curly tresses in an iron grip. She exclaimed in pained surprise before being yanked backward, colliding into a metallic wall with a bang. They glanced around dizzily before they felt a looming presence. Their neck slowly craned upward.
The rabbit’s face was directly above theirs.
Rotted, grinning, with two silvery-white pinpricks in its previously empty eyes.
Purbunny: Purbunny is known for its innocent and cute look, able to make anyone around it trust it. Don't be fooled, though; both its gaze and its ears are sharp, and this Pokémon is always up to something!
Springbun: Once Purbunny evolves, its fur colour lightens up into a bright yellow, but holes also start appearing in its skin, and the tips of its ears become a bright red. It becomes even more secretive and mysterious, and this Pokémon is considered dangerous to be around due to its unpredictable nature.
Traprabbit: At full maturity, this once small and deceivingly cute Pokémon sheds all pretense of innocence, growing sharp fangs and gaining huge claws as its skin rots away even more and its ears gain more red colouration. Its limbs are stiff, so it uses its large spring tail to help it move around. The small spirits around it are the souls that this Pokémon has stolen.
(don't ask me how long it took to figure out the typing and designs oka I'm only a casual Pokémon fan idk 🥹)
Looking at the Funtime Animatronic Blueprints is fun because they consist of:
Look at my creation I love her I put so many different features into her
Jesus Christ Everything In Here Is Made To Kill People
90% Gyroscope and Collision Detection because god why won’t you stay standing up
Eh fuck it
William was very proud of Baby. The first thing you hear upon booting up Sister Location for the first time is William bragging about all the features he packed into her. Also Baby was canonically made especially for Elizabeth and is also the main attraction of her pizzeria so overall I think he spent the most time on her. He packed in every feature he possibly could, then right as he was almost finished designing her he went “oh fuck I’m supposed to be making a murder robot”, threw in that stomach claw and child counting program and went done.
Funtime Freddy had the exact opposite problem because William is fresh off of designing Baby and he’s like “ok this time I’m gonna make a murder robot first” and then he threw in everything he could think of to make this thing the best murder robot he could. Proximity sensor in the hat to track crowds, little Bonnie hand puppet to act as a lookout and track parents. Voice mimicry to lure things in. Storage tank to hide bodies. William added all of this, took a step back, looked and his glorious creation and went. “Ah fuck I forgot to add any actual non-murdery animatronic stuff.”
With Ballora William had the really good idea of “I’m gonna make a robot that can dance so well it’ll be able to Ballet Dance and it’ll be an attractive woman with HUUUGE bazonkers and I’m definitely handling the divorce really well why do you ask”, then spent like 3 days straight trying to make this thing able to balance herself properly and whoops it just keeps falling over or bumping into things. Also the eyes are too small for their sockets and look really creepy when they’re open and William’s big smart idea to fix this is to keep the eyes shut and build a robot that can perform a pirouette while blind instead of just adding larger eyes. Eventually he’s spent like 3 weeks just trying to make her not fall over but it’s way too late to stop now. The sunk cost fallacy has set in and William will MAKE this robot able to dance if it’s the last thing he does.
He succeeds in making Ballora able to dance but this comes at the cost of her barely being able to walk normally and needing to move either via pirouette or fucked up spider crawl and she’s also about 12 parts gyroscope and stabilizing parts to 1 part animatronic. William then realizes he needs to add some kind of murder tool into this thing. William screams.
He eventually just gives up and gives her some programming and extra parts to distract people from Funtime Freddy doing the actual murdering part (and the fact that Funtime Freddy is exclusively made to kill and not entertain), realizes that he still doesn’t have enough space to add something to ACTIVATE that programming and extra parts, and then gives up and makes Baby able to remote activate it because fuck it I’m not redesigning her entire lower half again to accommodate the change in weight.
When he was designing Funtime Foxy he was still absolutely exhausted from the Ballora Incident and didn’t even know what to do with this one. “Fuck it, I’m just gonna make it able to mimic voices and release various scents from its tail it can be another distraction I don’t care at this point.”
He then proceeded to fuck up and make it hypersensitive to light for no apparent reason.
HOLY SHIT GUYS, I WAS INSPIRED BY THIS POST TO TRY MAKE THE SONG AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I DRAGGED THE TRAINING AUDIO OVER THE BACKING TRACK AND IT LINED UP PERFECTLY
babe it's me i'm just covered in dirt and blood because i had to claw my way up into the light and crawl on my hands and knees back home to you stop screaming
kianamaiart
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
izzy806
dailybridgerton
