snowwolf23

[snowwolf23]

Ayuna Duvessa 🩸 "I don’t need to threaten you, love. You’ll ruin yourself trying to please me."

[snowwolf23]

Whoever was responsible for the kiss scene at Larian...

the way his hand slowly moves up....

[snowwolf23]

How I wish the boss fight with Raphael ended...

[snowwolf23]

"I've grown quite fond of you, you know - in my way."

[snowwolf23]

How they show love — bg3

A tribute to the last patch of bg3 and in honour of starting my 12th playthrough (I haven’t finished a single one so far)

Pairing: Astarion, Gale, Gortash, Raphael (+Haarlep) x gn!reader

Summary: How do they express their love for you, their love language and a bonus scenario.

Genre: Fluff, slightly suggestive in parts

Words: 4.1k

Note: this is kinda popping off soo if you’re interested in receiving a written letter by your favourite character, I’m hosting a small event on my blog and anyone can participate!

(Not ascended)

Astarion Ancunín // The Pale Elf

Words — 1k

Nibbling and biting.

This one is quite obvious. Although Astarion sinks his fangs into your neck every now and then to enjoy a treat, he also enjoys nibbling on you just because. His favourite areas to do so are your hands and fingers, shoulder and cheek. Biting your fingers in boredom when you are in bed with him, in his arms, you not paying attention to him while flipping pages through a book.

What else is he supposed to do other than take your free hand and nibble on your finger while silently brooding about you being oh so busy. Your hand is also a pleasant alternative.

Your shoulder feels like the perfect place to trail featherlight kisses followed by small nibbles here and there, firm enough for you to arch into them but soft enough to not make you bleed. He doesn’t always have the need to chomp down and suck your blood out, you know.

That’s why Astarion sometimes leans down, bites and pull on your cheek a little instead of placing a small kiss. It’s silly, but it makes you giggle and wince in surprise so that’s perfect reason to keep doing it, especially when you expect a kiss and not him to bite you.

“I can’t help myself dear. You are too delicious for me to resist, with or without blood, although a little snack would be a good bonus. If you’ll let me…”

Words of affirmation and/or sweet nothings.

You are used to Astarion flirting with you all day and night, but you notice how they slowly became less and less shameless and more sincere, in a way. Not that they weren’t sincere before.

His eyes soften as they glaze over your face, his hands hesitating to reach out and run through your hair while your head rests on his chest, his lip quivering as he hesitates to speak his mind. Astarion’s brain is foggy from all the warmth and fuzziness pooling in his stomach and his heart racing uncontrollably from you simply being here. His mouth begins to talk without him having control over it.

His words may be flirty and sultry but you can tell that they aren’t just flattery. He rambles about how incomprehensibly gorgeous you are, how your info dumping and intelligence is unbearably attractive and how he could listen to you all day, how your eyes resemble the starry night sky, your grin that could make him fold over in an instant and so many other things he cannot get out of his damn brain about you.

Damn you for making him utterly weak and stupid for you.

“I cannot stop my damn mouth around you. It’s— Stop grinning at me like that! I can’t concentrate when you do that, darling.”

Physical touch.

At first, Astarion forced himself to constantly touch you. It felt good for you and for him, sure, but he mostly pushed himself to touch and feel you in order to make you feel seen and loved by him. He did it in order to get protection and support from you against Cazador and whatever other horrors come across your way. But after unfortunately falling head over heels for you, touching you is something he cannot go without.

His hand always lingers on your back for support, your waist to pull you closer and show to everyone with that you are his and he is yours, holding your hand while strolling the streets and roads and almost childishly swinging your arms back and forth like a happy-giddy couple. Letting himself get pulled into your arms after a long day in the privacy of his closed off tent and cuddling closely against you is probably the closest Astarion ever got and will get to pure bliss.

His cheek getting squished by being pressed up against your chest, his hands tightly gripping your waist as if fearing you might disappear on him. There is a soft, giddy grin spreading on his face.

Bonus scenario.

You thought he did it on purpose at first— After all, he is a vampire spawn and you can tell that his bloodlust overpowers him every now and then, but Astarion genuinely looks panicked as the flesh of your hand begins to bleed slightly, two holes buried into the skin right below your thumb. You watch as your boyfriend rushed around his tent to grab a cloth and wipe the blood.

“Astarion, I’m fine—“ He shushed you by holding his finger up while facing your back before finally spinning around on his heel and presenting the hand-embroidered handkerchief he had been worming on during the quiet evenings in camp. Immediately and without hesitation, he pressed the delicate cloth against your wound.

His face was etched in guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry darling, I didn’t mean the bite to be so…” You noticed how his eyes drifted away from how the blood began to soak the handkerchief. “It was meant to be harmless, I swear!”

“I know, I know.” Your free hand cupped his cheek and your lover immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as his features softened slightly. You can tell how much it ripped him apart in the inside despite it being such a little injury, you know how Astarion always is careful with his biting when doing it on you, respecting your boundaries and always asking for consent beforehand. He would never, ever hurt you in any way. And yet he just did.

“It happens, it’s okay. I’m not seriously hurt.”

Lifting the cloth off your wound yourself and revealed how the blood already began to dry. His eyes drifted back to the puncture wound in your hand. His lip quivered. “I…”

“I’m still sorry. I should’ve been more careful.” Astarion watched your face, expecting some kind of negative reaction. Fear, anger, anything really. Instead, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

A wave of affection hit him the same way the club of an angry orc would, but it was much more pleasant. He huffed and angled your face for him to kiss you properly.

(Mortal)

Gale Dekarios // The Wizard of Waterdeep

Words — 1.1k

Info-dumping and rambling.

If there is a new topic Gale has been exploring and reading about, you will definitely hear all about. Probably more than once, too.

Before you Tara was the victim of his endless info-dumping, him gesturing around and doing his eureka! pose every now and then while proudly explaining how he already inhaled every piece of literature there is about this new topic. Now you are his victim.

Gale feels a little insecure about it though, afraid he might be boring or annoying you. So, you’ll have to assure and encourage him and make it known that you do want to know how you can reason and communicate with some mimics to the point of making them non-hostile. He adores to have his head rest on your lap while your hand fiddle with some loose strands of hair, him rambling on and on about something he happened to come across in the library today.

Since you tolerate his rambling so well, he’ll of course listen to yours with eagerness. Gale’s eyes twinkle slightly as he watches you talk, noting every movement in your face and hand, how the edges of your eyes crease a little when you explain a particularly fun fact to him. His heart flutters to see you being so passionate about something, sometimes he can’t help himself but let that affection out and give you a cheeky little kiss while you are distracted by talking, causing you to be completely thrown off and now confused on where you left on.

Gale also loves debating with you. The topics could range from when does a powerful wizard begin to live off cheese and wine to if eating a tressym’s wings be considered as fried bird, fried cat or fried tressym (although Tara was quite offended by that debate you held). He likes talking about nothing and everything about you and might just seek excuses to hear your voice. Getting the opportunity to info-dump about his interests is a mere bonus.

Gifts and trinkets.

Whenever he stops by the library or market, you have to physically withhold him from wandering off and going after that shiny twinkle he just saw from the edge of his eyes, in his mind already having hundreds of ideas on what it might be and if you would like it.

Gale has a habit of hoarding things in his wizard tower, but after getting his orb and getting rid of most the weave infused artefacts, he now had space for more trinkets: things that remind him of you.

Your wizard begins bringing you something every time he comes back from somewhere. Sometimes it’s a book from the library he thought might interest you, sometimes it’s jewerly Gale thought might fit most your outfits, but every now and then it’s a shiny rock he found in the corner of a street. He thought the colour resembled your eye colour and the way it shone in the sun almost blinded him, just how you blind him with love every time you’re near.

It’s silly but at least half the shelves are now filled with shiny rocks, books and a newly acquired wooden figure of a goat he found at the market. Gale said your stubbornness and persistence reminded him of one and didn’t get why you found it a little offensive to get compared to one.

“Whatever are you talking about? Goats are very graceful creatures and so are you! I find it quite the accurate comparison on my part.”

Physical touch and cuddles.

There is nothing better in the world than melting against your warm body after a good glass of wine and being surrounded by tombs, scrolls and books all day and Tara being curled up by your feet. His hand lazily tracing your waist and sneakily finding their way between your legs. Not for any improper reason, just to warm his hands up.

Speaking of your thighs, Gale is this close to begging on his hands and knees for a chance to have his rest between your plush flesh. The feeling of gently being squished while his fingers busy themselves by drawing intricate patterns across your skin or simply interlock with yours. Your wizard considers cuddling as some way of recharging his energy, both arcane and bodily.

He needs his morning cuddles before starting his day, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck while you brew some coffee or him refusing to let you leave the bed by positioning himself on top of you. He sneaks himself into your daily routine and tries not to interrupt whatever you are doing right while scooting himself right next to you, his chin on your shoulder while Gale watches you do whatever.

Also, thanks to you, this man can’t ever sleep without having you in his arms ever again. You spoiled him too much, he complains. Your body perfectly fitting together against his like it was always meant to be. But that also means whenever you get up in the middle of the night for some water, Gale is right behind you, sleepily following your steps.

“I can’t sleep without you, might’ve as well follow, right?”

Bonus scenario.

You did insist that your boyfriend should’ve stayed in bed while you dragged yourself to the kitchen for a glas of water. It’s not even early morning and the sun was still well below the horizon and yet Gale followed close behind. It kind of reminded you a cat that followed you into the bathroom in the middle of the night for no reason other than making sure you don’t get attacked by mice or something.

“Mhh. What time is it?” Gale scratched his chin sleepily as he leaned against the counter next to you. You shrugged and sipped your glass of water. He opened his eyes and glanced over to you, his arms slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his oh so warm body.

You melted right into him, a groan escaping your throat as you buried your face in his hot neck, allowing yourself to take a deep breath. His scent was familiar.

Your eyes slowly drooped close and you felt yourself almost let the glass slip out of your hand but before it could, you placed it on the counter behind your very sleepy wizard.

As you did, your hands began to wander and trace the warm muscles of his back. You noticed how they have softened over time. After everything that had happened you and him began to live a more comfortable life without the need to lift a sword, or rather, a wizard staff.

Before you could point the softening muscles, how much you appreciate your life with him, how silly it is to think about what you went through together mere months ago, a snore interrupted your thoughts.

Did Gale fall asleep leaning against the cabin with you in arms? Seriously? And snoring like that as well?

And he is always the one that complained about your snoring.

Enver Gortash // Chosen of Bane

Words — 1k

Gift giving.

He literally cannot help himself for the love of the gods. Enver, as he ordered you to call him, swears he is not actively seeking for gifts to shower you in, they just come to him. Or are being brought to him by his Steel Watch and others.

Whatever had your attention for more than a fraction of a second you can expect to stare back at you in an instant, now presented on your nightstand or bed instead of the boutique you saw it in or the catalogue you flipped through. Somehow he always knows what you fancy without even needing to speak to him.

Enver also tends to send you little handmade trinkets during especially long and stressful periods of him being away. Despite what he likes to think himself, he doesn’t always work on papers in his office. When the files pile up and glare at him disapprovingly, Enver turns to the mini broken machinery tucked away in his desk and begins tinkering with it, working and trying new things out until it finally functions again.

Or he makes it look prettier and that it was before and lets it be delivered to you. Little reminder that he always thinks of you. He totally didn’t squeeze a miniature scrying eye into at least one of the trinkets to spy on you.

“Oh, it is nothing. Mere small tokens of my affection, no need to dwell on them.

Inserting himself into everything you do and annoying you.

Like a toddler, Enver follows you around and tries to insert himself into everything you do to try and stay close to you.

Cooking yourself a snack in the kitchen? You’ll feel his chin on your shoulder as he stared down at what you are cooking. “Give me a piece of that.”

In the bathroom to take a quick shower? He is already behind the curtain and turning the water on, filling the room with steam.

God forbid you are in bed, alone without anyone to cuddle onto? Yeah, you best believe he immediately sneaks up on you and makes sure you won’t be able to physically leave this bed, not until you pry his arms off your body. Enver is like a cat, he doesn’t openly ask for affection most of the time but invades your personal space whenever he wants to silently ask for it.

Besides acting a little child when wanting your attention and affections, Enver also enjoys showing you how much he loves you by purposefully annoying you a a little. He pokes your cheek over and over when you’re busy and watches you get more and more upset with his teasing until you finally slap his finger away. How unfairly you are treating him— Enver has been nothing but good to you!

“I’m simply making my presence known to you since you failed to acknowledge it until now. You shouldn’t be annoyed, rather happy to see me, love.”

Physical touch.

You know well that your lover is sleep deprived, dehydrated, touch starved, affection starved and whatever else you can be physically deprived off. You seem to fix all of these problems by simply slipping into his arms and using his soft chest as comfortable pillows and your legs tucked between his warm legs. Enver can’t suppress the blissful grin spreading on his face and couldn’t fight his eyelids slowly drooping close, his chin resting on your head.

He could remain like this for hours, days, in some form of hibernation. But he can’t. His duties are calling.

So, he’ll take you with to his office to continue the cuddles. You’ll be comfortably seated on his lap as he writes and flips through papers. The situation isn’t even sexually charged as in you are perfectly seated on his lap in a way that could make him moan and thighs shiver, rather you are there so he can take little breaks by hiding his face in your neck and groaning in frustration every now and then.

Sometimes he’ll be too tired to cuddle, so Enver’ll rind where you are currently resting and just laying down on top of you, letting his weight slightly crush you beneath him. He is a selfish man and needs his daily (hourly, really) head pats, hair strokes and back scratches.

Bonus scenario.

You felt Enver’s stare drill itself into your skull. You were just brushing your teeth and examining yourself in the bathroom mirror and getting ready for bed. You tried to ignore the looming presence behind you as much as you tried to avoid looking directly at him in the mirror.

“Are you ignoring me?” You heard the amusement in his voice. Yes you are trying to ignore him because of how much he has been getting on your nerves today, purposefully interrupting your doings, asking you to meet him in private and pulling you away from duties just for him to ask you to kiss him. A child is what he is.

“My love.” Enver called out again, now moving to stand beside you. His eyes never left your face. You didn’t spare him a single glance.

“Darling.” He started again. “Or do you want me to call you kitten?”

That one made you shoot him a glare. Aha! A reaction. Enver smirked at himself and lifted his hand, his index finger now reaching out to pole your cheek but before he could touch you, you gently pushed his hand away. But not backing down, he reached out again.

“Gortash.” You scolded and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes? That is my name.” Completely unbothered, he mirrored your pose to mock you almost. There was that shit-eating smirk on his face you are all too familiar with and the one you can’t help but let it get to you. You couldn’t fight your own grin that was fighting itself to appear on your face.

“Aha. A reaction. I was looking for that.” He grinned and lifted your chin with a small nudge beneath your chin before leaning in for a quick kiss on your lips.

Raphael // The Devil (cambion)

Words — 1k

Quality time.

Raphael’s time is valuable and choosing it to spend it with you should make you happy enough.

But alas, merely basking in your presence and getting drunk of your affections sometimes isn’t enough, so Raphael takes you out to fancy restaurants in different cities all across Faerûn and spoils you with a colourful, expensive cuisine. Afterwards he’d suggest to get some wine and enjoy it somewhere else together, maybe go back to the House of Hope and play some rounds of Lanceboard together.

He would never admit it to you but being adorably domestic with you and sipping some wine while talking about nothing important is one of his favourite things to do, ever.

Besides restaurants and wine, your cambion will ask if you’d be interest in going out to watch theatre plays. How can you possibly deny him when Raphael keeps reciting quotes and scenes, trying to sway you into finally giving in. It’s kind of endearing watching Raphael’s eyes light up once you finally agree.

Raphael enjoys spending his time outside of his House of Hope, partly because he knows that you, as a mortal, probably don’t want to spend all your time down in Avernus, so he’ll prefer to take you out on dates on the surface.

“If you’ll have me, I would love to take you out on a lovely play being held in Baldur’s Gate. I believe you could enjoy it as much as I will.”

Acts of service.

Raphael may spoil you with acts of service but those are not without strings— He’ll expect something back in return, things like a kiss on his cheek, a compliment or your time to spend on him.

His “services” consist of him hand-tailoring infernal contracts for people that have mildly annoyed you in the past, people you may not even remember. Raphael will make sure they will work as slaves in his house personally serving you for the rest of eternity.

He maybe is enjoying eliminating and enslaving your ex-lovers, people you mildly dislike, people you despite and whoever else he can get his fingers on a little too much, don’t you think?

Also, Raphael tends to be very theatrical when hosting future contractees and souls he might strike a contract with. But with you, he is actually sincerely caring. He pulls out a chair for you, he pours you a beverage before even needing to ask, he remembers every single detail on foods you like and dislike and just the way you like it. Raphael will always serve you like you are royalty.

“Sit. Eat. Drink. Let the world and everyone in it kneel for you, my love. You deserve nothing lesser.”

Physical affection.

Raphael enjoys your touch the most. Simple things like holding your hand and prying it off whatever you are holding when they are not available, having his hand rest on your waist during outings and his tail subconsciously wrapping around your ankles when he is not even paying any mind to you. He craves your closeness, no matter if he wants to or not.

If he can’t provide with his own body and cuddle you up, he’ll send Haarlep to do his bidding.

Haarlep more than willingly curls up in your lap and shields you with their wings as their arms snake around you. They might let their hands wander and get a little touchy with you, but after putting the incubus in their place and giving them a piece of your mind, Harleep will obey and simply serve as a cuddle pillow and replacement for his master. Almost a little too enthusiastically, one could think.

But at the end of the day only Raphael will banish the incubus from your shared bedroom and will affectionately-force you to satiate his need for your touch. He is never the little spoon though, the devil would never give up his position as the big spoon and loose the opportunity to create a make-shift cocoon with his leathery wings trapping you against him.

It was your biggest mistake to not go and use the bathroom beforehand, Raphael will never let you go now, not unless you sprinkle holy water on him or something.

“Where did you— No! Put that flask down you harlot! How did you smuggle holy water into my home?!-“

Bonus scenario.

You felt squished. Sandwiched. A little crushed but kind of pleasantly so.

Raphael had his arms wrapped around your your stomach as you snuggly fit into his hold, against his chest. You felt the infernal heat radiating off his body and his tail having its tight hold on your ankle. Does he even know that his tail was clinging itself onto you?

You weren’t really paying attention to that though with Haarlep clinging against your front. It was comfortably pressing itself against your torso, its race snuggled against your chest. Their eyes were closed in bliss while their hands gently massaged your thighs. Now, how did you manage to convince Raphael to allow his incubus to snuggle up against you like you are theirs and theirs only?

Then again you could sense how the owner of the House of Hope silently brooding behind you and having his face nuzzled into your shoulder while Haarlep happily purred against your supple skin.

“Oh, I have been missing out on this. I didn’t think he’d be so lenient with me.” Haarlep was clearly testing the waters on how far he can go before his master strikes him down and throws his body into the Styx. Raphael lifted his head slightly and raised his brow, shooting him a warning glare.

“Both of you better behave.” You sighed, one hand leaning back to cup Raphael’s cheek while the other was busy running fingers through Haarlep’s hair. Again, the incubus purred and smirked against your skin.

This is something you could get used to.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

Ngl I’ve also been in the mood for some Cyberpunk again. Also I’m also trying my very hardest to do a Durge run but I always end up starting another playthrough after the goblin camp 😭😭 I’m trying to stay strong for the extra voicelines and scenarios and stuff for Gortash but I’ve never been strong enough so far 😔 also I was this close to including ketheric throm on this list

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Tame care of yourselves! Happy late Easter if you celebrate.

[snowwolf23]

Astarion Ancunin in Baldur's Gate 3 (2023).

[snowwolf23]

no pressure to write this, it is only an idea!!

perhaps william x reader where the reader has chronic pain and is having a flare up? ᐢ. ₓ .ᐢ

💉 Headcanon: William x Reader (Chronic Pain Flare-Up)

At first, William doesn’t quite understand the pattern of your condition. He's observant, of course—he notices the stiffness in your movements, the way your eyes look more tired than usual, how your breath catches just slightly when you reach for something.

When you crash during a flare-up, he notices immediately. You might try to hide it—masking your pain behind a brave smile—but William sees through masks. He wears one every day, and he knows what it looks like.

The moment he realizes you’re in real pain, his entire demeanor changes.

No more smug remarks, no teasing, no dramatics. Just quiet, direct care.

🩺 What He Does:

He goes still. There's that first second of him freezing—processing. Then comes the slow, deliberate movement. He doesn’t rush; he’s not panicking on the surface. But his mind is racing.

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, gentle. “Where? How bad is it?” He tries not to make you feel interrogated, but he needs to understand.

Adjusts everything for you. If you’re in bed, he’ll re-fluff the pillows, grab your heating pad, reposition the blanket just right. If it hurts to move? He’ll help you shift gently, maybe muttering, “Easy, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

He learns your triggers. Over time, he quietly memorizes what tends to set off your flares. He adjusts plans around that—without making it obvious—because he doesn’t want you to feel like a burden.

William does research. Begrudgingly, secretly, he reads articles and studies late at night, trying to understand your condition better. He gets frustrated with how vague or complicated it all is, but he tries. He’s trying for you.

He becomes your fiercest advocate. If you’re out in public and someone gives you a hard time—say, for needing to sit, or use mobility aids—William’s entire demeanor turns ice-cold. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t escalate. He just stares them down with that quiet, terrifying intensity and says something like: “You don’t want to finish that sentence.”

💬 He Might Say Things Like:

“You should’ve told me sooner.” (not angry, just softly disappointed—more at himself for not noticing fast enough)

“I hate seeing you like this.”

“You don’t have to pretend. Not with me.”

💜 Intimacy and Trust

When he realizes you trust him enough to let him see you like this, it changes something in him.

He knows you’re vulnerable. He knows this is the kind of pain that makes someone retreat into themselves. The fact that you don’t—that you let him be there? That’s more intimate than anything else.

He might sit at your bedside, one hand gently resting on yours, just enough pressure to remind you he’s there.

"You’re still strong. You’re still you. This doesn’t make you weak."

[snowwolf23]

Yandere William Afton (movie) concept ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

CW : obsessive behavior, manipulation, isolation, attempted murder, murder, stalking, major age-gap, love bombing, kidnapping, forced relationship (hinted), one sided love gn reader

Word count: 1.4k+

Note: First post so if the formatting it weird I apologize! Still learning haha. I am working with what we do have from the first movie and I will revisit this after December! Pure self indulgence here!

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

After his wife left William never planned on finding someone else to love. With raising a daughter as a single father and his business he was far to busy to think about it.

Honestly he could care less for it, not like it was an emotion he could feel outside of the love for his daughter. William found it rather repulsive and to time consuming.

So when he met you his whole world felt like it had been flipped upside down.

You're a new employee when you caught his eye.

William would be quick to introduce himself as the co-owner of Freddy's. He would do his best to be professional about it, he was your boss after all.

But it was hard to do as he just couldn't stop watching you. He was just making sure no customers caused any problems for you, that's what he told himself. Just being a good boss.

He would frequently ask you to do small little tasks to try and keep you in the building just a bit longer. The man just enjoyed seeing you work so hard. Even asking how the day was when he was stuck in the office and unable to be around you.

Often he would invade your personal space just a little, his hand on your shoulder a few seconds longer than it should be. Gripping you just a tad to tight. Or adjusting your tie and nametag always saying it was to make sure the place looked friendly and inviting.

He first noticed his feelings when he was talking to a customer just to look over and see one of your male coworkers standing to close for his liking.

The man had the audacity to move some of your hair out of your face as he laughed. It felt like his heart was suddenly being squeezed tightly in his chest and he did not like that at all.

It was strange to him, this was new. His chest felt far to tight for his liking and it felt like he had tunnel vision.

The moment he could William would force his way into the conversation and make a task on the spot for the employee to go do immediately. With a satisfied smile he would turn to you and start up a conversation about one of your interests to keep your attention on you.

The coworker would suddenly be avoiding you if he could. Actually many of your coworkers would slowly start to avoid you.

‎~

The longer he spent around you the stronger the feeling got as you consumed his every thought. He would throw himself into working on the animatronics to try and shake it from his thoughts. It will go away, just ignore it.

But anytime he was away from you he felt.... lonely. No that can't be right. He doesn't need a companion.

Soon he started showing up at other places you frequented. Book stores, Coffee shops, Malls, etc.

He just had to see you that's all. Then he could go home and relax. But he would catch himself walking over without thinking and plays it off as a coincidence! What a surprise he would find you here!

Late at night he would park his car across from your house to make sure you made it home safely. You never said anything about it to him so you must be perfectly fine with it!

He soon started a small collection of pictures as you went on about your day. There were a few from work always making them with other employees just to seem like it was decorations for his office. The pictures were his most prized possession.

~

Small gifts would end up on your doorstep no matter the price. William had the money to spare, he did come from a wealthy family and his business helped. He would always make sure the nicer items came around holidays or your birthday. Splurging on jewelry as a way to mark you as his even if only he knew it.

Most items never had a name but there was a sweet note inside. Hearing you talk about the new item always made him swell with pride.

As he was out stalking checking on you from a distance he noticed someone else tagging along. They don't belong by your side, he does.

The closeness, the laughter, the touching. It drove him mad. Gritting his teeth he had to force himself to walk away. He doesn't want to scare his darling.

His jealousy and anger would get the better of him. Someone was trying to come between him and his darling. He had to intervene somehow.

The one thing William kept hidden was the fact he had murdered before. It was just seen as rumor between the staff as kids did go missing years before you worked at Freddy's. And seeing that person with you made that old itch come crawling back with a vengeance.

His attention quickly turned to handling this little problem.

~

William did anything to find information on your friend, something he could blackmail them with or use to place a wedge between the two of you. If he couldn't then he went the violent route. He cant risk his darling being taken away.

Breaking into their house he would hunt them down and corner them. A stab or two should do the trick, he made sure to avoid any vital organs and didn't go to deep. Just seeing them trembling and bleeding was enough to satisfy him.

I see him not full on killing the person at first, he wanted to scare them. To put it into their head to stay away. Though he knows they would go crying to his darling.

When you ask him if he tried to kill your friend he would immediately act offended. "What on earth makes you think I would do that? You really think of me as a killer?"

He would lay on the guilt tripping hard. Even forcing tears to make you apologize. The guilt in your eyes thrilled him.

William would hold your accusation over your head. Claiming he needed to re-earn your trust and making you avoid your friend.

You were spending more time with him! Oh how happy he was! He would even take you to get coffee or lunch like it was a date. Shopping or a movie anything to keep you right against his side.

~

But then you would suddenly started to pull away, you avoided his company. When he tried to hug you one day you smacked his hand away. His smile never fell faster than in that moment. He saw the anger in your eyes. What happened? It was going so good!

That horrible person you must have gotten into your head. They must be forcing you to be around them.

You said you were quitting, that you found a new job. No that cant be happening. William would be quick to offer a raise, to match their pay or benefits. He seemed flustered and panicked by the thought of his darling leaving him.

But you stood firm on your stance.

He couldn't have that now can he? He couldn't handle the thought of them pulling you away from him. Or you leaving the company. Something in him just... snapped.

Next thing you knew he shoved you into the back seat of his car bound and gagged as the real monster under the surface came out. William looked disappointed as he slammed the door shut, almost showing a hint of heartbreak. He didn't want it to come to this.

The silence of the drive only made your dread grow. What was he going to do to you? Where were you going? They way he looked back at you with a glare made your heart pound loudly in your ears.

He made sure the windows and door to his bedroom were locked up tight. This is your new home now he made that very clear as he dragged you inside.

Leaving you alone you could only guess what he was doing after making a comment about handling an issue.

Returning hours later he found you trying to force a window open in an attempt to escape. Grabbing you by the back of your shirt you were quickly shoved onto the bed. Blood stained his shirt and hands.

Where did the blood come from? What did he do? He killed someone, the though made your stomach churn and a dry heave left your mouth.

Wet hands gripped you by the chin as he forced eye contact. His icy blue eyes swirled with love and a darker look you couldn't quite put the name to.

"I'm sorry love but you forced my hand. I couldn't risk loosing you to anyone. You understand, right?"

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

[snowwolf23]

William stalking you. That’s it, that’s the idea. Spooky in my heart.

(stalking, its william afton)

yes !!! the second william met you when you came into his career counselling office, he just knew that you were like, the one (?). he keeps all your personal information near him at all, hell he memorises it off by heart. he offers you the security guard shift in an instance (he knows that way he can keep you near). hides in the dark when you pull up to the pizzeria each night for your shift and watches you enter the building. oh, that morning you go to drive home and your car suddenly weirdly isn't working so you have practically spend the whole day at the pizzeria waiting for a mechanic or mike to come to work? yeah that's a bit weird isn't it? calling you during the day sometimes asking you how works going. you're like, oh that's probably part of his job NOPE, which you find out through mike when he tells you that steve (william) has never called him once to ask about the job. you brush it off but mike warns you to be careful.

william has definitely, secretly gotten into the building mid shift. he knows you normally pass out around 3-4am for an hour or so each shift just to keep your energy going. he'll stand in the entrance of the office, watching you. maybe once or twice even stood close to you brush the hair out of your sleeping face. he's definitely got papers sprawled with drawings of some sort of suit/animatronic designed all around you to eventually fit you into so you could be with him eternally, shoved in a drawer of his desk. he's got big plans for you,

[snowwolf23]

YET ANOTHER REQUEST

this time a platonic ✨ Funtime Freddy x Reader ✨

maintenance worker y/n that works with the animatronics, sometimes repairing them but mostly checking over them after every party

Funtime Freddy becomes pretty protective over y/n, but in a loving way (not that "you're mine and no one else's" kinda thing djdhdjdh)

he's always very loving and cuddly towards y/n, but never too much, always watching over them and making sure their getting enough rest after every maintenances check with the animatronics

he's always telling y/n that he's fine after every party, cracking jokes and calling y/n cute little nicknames

🐻|Funtime Freddy himself didn’t expect to befriend you, and vise versa. You aren’t aware of the fates of some workers, but he sure is.|🐰

🐻|The first time the two of you met was when he started malfunctioning due to something broken inside, and they brought you. You were incredibly careful.|🐰

🐻|He knows of his purpose—they all do—and he also just... does it for fun. And there’s still the plan to eventually escape by using somebody else’s body.|🐰

🐻|Someone suggests you as who they could use for the plan, but Funtime Freddy hears this, and protests. He’s been pretty upset before—even with Bon-Bon calming him. But, this time, it was bad.|🐰

🐻|Initially, he really doesn’t understand why he feels like this—even after that, but he doesn’t question it after a while. He’s never befriended a worker before.|🐰

🐻|Some of his nicknames for you are just variations of your actual name—but he also starts calling you stuff like “Cupcake”.|🐰

—

Holding in a yawn, you opened up the door, and entered the room. It was rather dark, other than the somewhat frequent flickering of the lights.

You would have tried to use your flashlight for some help, but you’d forgotten it... again. It was the third time in a row that you’d done so.

“O-Oh, Bon-Bon!” A familiar, glitchy voice rang throughout the room. With the help of the flickering lights, you could see him somewhere in the back corner.

“W-Who is that over th-t-there in the dark?” As he continued, you could hear the animatronic let out a few giggles. “T-The birthday boy?!”

You smiled, and shook your head. “No, Fred,” A glitchy gasp rang throughout the room, “It’s-“

“O-Oh, Cupcake!” Heavy and fast footsteps began approaching you—and with the flickering lights, you’d never seen the bear run this fast.

“Freddy, calm down-!” The little rabbit said.

In a matter of seconds, you felt Funtime Freddy wrap his arms—and Bon-Bon—around you, and you were suddenly lifted off of the floor.

As your feet dangled in the air, you tried to wrap your own arms around the bear. “I-I’m so ha-happy to see yo-you!”

—

🐻|He does start giving you hugs—trying to make sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you in the process or anything. He is a strong animatronic, after all.|🐰

🐻|Funtime Freddy is almost like a sad puppy whenever you leave. He cheers up almost instantly whenever you return.|🐰

🐻|He knows... a lot about history- sometimes when you’re with him, Funtime Freddy will just start telling you random history facts that he loves. And you listen.|🐰

🐻|Bon-Bon can usually calm down Funtime Freddy—even if, sometimes, it can be difficult. You’re the only other one who could possibly calm him down.|🐰

🐻|He’ll tell you jokes that he’s been thinking of/working on, and is curious as to what you think of them.|🐰

🐻|He laughs at literally any joke that you might tell him.|🐰

[snowwolf23]

I sprained my ankle- can I have some protective Fun Fred time ?? Pleasssssse??

The moment Freddy finds out that you’ve been injured, he’s practically foaming at the mouth, threatening to end whoever caused this. How dare this happen to you. You’re the last person in the world who deserves to get hurt. He’s out for blood.

You tell Freddy to chill, that no one needs to die, and he reluctantly shifts from anger to concern. If you need to stay home from work for a while, he’s going to insist on calling you every day to check in. Then, when you’re finally cleared to return, Freddy acts like your personal bodyguard. He follows you around whenever he can, opening doors for you, clearing a way for you to walk through crowds, pointing out steps or wrinkled rugs or any other potential tripping hazards, fixing them if he can.

Part of you is embarrassed by his protective behavior, but mostly it’s kind of nice. You’re not used to being taken care of like this.

You could get used to it.

[snowwolf23]

OMG OMG OMG I just saw yoot Funtime Freddy post and Funtime Freddy is my all time fav! I would so totally love you and be the happiest person in the world if you could do an Y/N and Funtime Freddy drawing!!! (ofc if you want to and are comfortable w/ that love) Your awsome and have a wonderful day/night!

Some Y/N x Funtime Freddy with bonus BonBon :o) !

[snowwolf23]

Execute Command

Night 1

Summary: You're an engineer, and your best friend who works as an overnight security guard for Fazbear's Fright calls you asking for a favor. Now there's a giant rotting bunny animatronic in your home, and you need to fix him by Friday.

Words: 5,062

Fun stuff: Springtrap POV, Springtrap/Reader (but really William/Reader/Spring Bonnie─Willaim and Spring Bonnie are treated like seperate creatures), gender neutral reader, cannon typical violence, slow burn, William is a monster and insane but Spring Bonnie is just a robot, the way Spring Bonnie acts is based on this post. Dark fic. Uploaded from my Ao3.

Technically an AU of my fic Fight Tooth and Nail where the reader's best friend doesn't die, but it can be read as a stand alone.

Next

───── (\ /) ─────

I was locked in darkness so long that sunlight burned me. 

The sunlight that poked through my crate, taunting and painful, was the only indication of where I was.

“Yeah, I mean—I guess you can set it over there.”

“You don’t got a... workshop er somethin’ we can drop this thing off at?” 

“Does this place look big enough for a workshop?”

There was silence.

“No. I don’t. Just set it in the living room.”

“You got it, boss.”

My crate was lifted and pushed. The movement alone tore into me like knives, springlocks pulling against flesh that could somehow still feel pain. I was used to it.

I was set down with a resounding THUD. Pain shocked through me and I saw red.

I’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthem-

“I’m not your boss. I’m just doing a friend a favor.”

Sunlight still burned tantalizingly against my framework. My whole body itched from it. 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘S quite a favor. This thing... it's a piece ‘a work.”

“Mmm. Don’t excite me. When’s the attraction open anyway?”

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘bout a week.”

“A week? Am I going to have enough time to fix him?”

> EXECUTE([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“Idunno. You're the technician.”

“...Alright. I’ll call if there’s any problems. Oh, and could you move it out of the sunlight? I don’t want the heat degrading the machinery.”

“Sure.”

I was pushed, the crate dragging across the floor with a whining shriek. I was out of the sunlight, but my skin still itched. 

The door closed. It was silent. Muted footsteps slowly approached me. One set of footsteps. There was only one. No witnesses.

 > Override command = [STORAGE PROTOCOL]

error

failed to execute command

It was worth a shot.

Something wedged into the crate, cracking and snapping the wood. Then, the other side of the crate. The crate’s lid fell slowly, like a tree falling to an axe. It hit the ground with a loud THUD .

There you were. Sunlight framed your silhouette, too bright in my darkness. You were smaller than me—and of course you were, there wasn’t a human alive the size of an animatronic. You were coughing and waving at the dust I brought. When you came to your senses, your eyes widened. You instinctively drew back—and that made me desperately want to pursue. It wasn’t a new reaction. Everyone knew to be afraid of me. That was my one balm to that fucking ‘storage protocol’.

You drew closer, tentative with a knot in your brow. How strange, that you would draw closer when you were so clearly terrified. You didn’t have to say it, I knew what you were thinking, but you said it anyway, “What happened to you?”

I wanted to laugh, bitter and spiteful. The pain gnawed at me until it was numbing. I had to tear my flesh apart anytime I wanted to so much as lift a finger. My lungs wanted to fill with air when they were filled with holes, my heart wanted to beat when my veins were sealed with rust. My head rang with a never ending migraine from the rods piercing through my skull . Every light, every sound, every stimulation was too goddamn bright . A lot happened to me.

You extended your hand as if you wanted to touch me. You were slow . Achingly slow. Tauntingly slow. I knew why you were slow. You thought I would bite. I would.

As if snapping back to reality, you shook your head and pulled back. Tease . You hoisted up the crate’s lid and pressed it back into place with your full body, enclosing me in semi-darkness once again. Your subtle footsteps left the room. After you were far enough away, a door opened and then shut loudly. You left. You left me alone.

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

Being alone was terrible terrible white noise. It grated like sandpaper against my skull , slowly and gradually wearing at my mind. I was back in that room— blind in the shadows, walls swallowing me whole, twitching in pain that never stopped, nothing for decades —but waiting in this toybox was child’s play. You would return. You would come to fix me.

And I would kill you.

Light surrendered to darkness while in the static of my cage. I had a shallow grasp of time after spending so much of it in the safe room . Had it been hours? Minutes? Days? Seconds? Weeks? It felt like all of that and more and less and like the static was consuming my brain like maggots , but also it had probably been hours since it was dark now.

The instant I heard the sound of the door open and close, the static was gone.

Artificial light dazed me in its suddenness, bringing a throbbing headache to match all the springlocks in my skull.

I could hear you moving around; setting down things, ruffling through belongings. You came back at night . 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

It wasn’t midnight yet, but it was close . I could taste it . I could taste your blood . I only had to wait.

You wedged a crowbar in my cage.

You were going to release me now? You were making it easy for me.

The door to my crate crashed to the floor. You inhaled sharply when you saw me again, as if you had forgotten how horrific I was. You swallowed your fear, but I knew it was still there no matter how brave you pretended to be. You were wearing blue disposable gloves and a jacket .

Would you cry? Would you scream? Would you cower in front of me or would you try to fight back? Anticipation sent electricity through me, and I would’ve shuddered if my body functioned correctly. As easy (and gratifying) as it would be to rip your head off your shoulders the moment midnight struck, making it last would be so much more satisfying .

I enjoyed playing with the night guard, they were so easily frightened. But they called for help too quickly. The fact that they were still alive was so annoying. It gnawed at me, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

By six tomorrow morning, I’ll have painted the floor with your guts.

You bit your lip before offering a pathetic smile, “Hi, Bonnie. I’m going to, uhm...” You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes quaked, scrolling me from top to bottom, “... Damn , I should’ve done this during the day.”

You really should have.

You took a step closer to me, and my flesh itched to grab you. Your hand reached for me slowly, but you backed away, unsure. You tried again, but retreated again . “How am I going to...” You brought your nervous eyes back to mine, and then something hardened in them— resolve . I didn’t care for resolve in my victim’s eyes. “Fuck it.” 

You grabbed me. Full-body, arms wrapped around my decaying waist. Pain, feeling, electricity, pain, sensation, stimulation, PAIN —shocked through me like lightning . It was too much, it burned me, it was white and hot and I would tear the bones from your flesh and make you watch me break them. When you let go of me, it was too cold. Static consumed me in a moment. I needed you to grab me again, because while stimulation made me irrational and violent , I hated the static more.

“Damn it,” The noise was gone the moment you spoke. You held your nose with the back of your sleeve, “There’s no way I’m getting this smell out...”

I was on a couch. You moved me. I was in a living room—your living room. Your kitchen was just beyond a pony wall. You had tools laid out haphazardly in a way that reminded me of Henry.

You turned toward your tools, fingering through them with delicate precision, “Sorry about the, uhm, ‘ accomodations ’,” You were supposedly talking to me, but you were truly talking to yourself. It was pathetic. “Who has the money for a workshop in this economy?”

While you were looking for the right tool, I was scanning your measly home. There . A Clock. 11:57 .

You picked up the tool you wanted and turned to me. “I must admit, as... terrifying as you are to look at, you are an intriguing mystery.” Your gloved fingers came to my chin, and the sensation wasn’t as burning now that you weren’t grabbing me with your whole body. The softness of your fingers was dizzying, and the pain was lost to the sensation of gentle touch. I could feel my mind glaze over as you tilted my head to the side, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Then, you jammed your screwdriver into the side of my jaw.

With each twist of your tool, I imagined twisting your limbs out of place. Your voice came in a breathy whisper, “I can’t wait to crack you open and see what’s inside...” The feeling was mutual. 

Your twisting started to slow. Your brow furrowed. You lifted my jaw with your palm, squinting as you tried to peer past my teeth. You were so so close to my teeth. All it would take was one bite. 

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:58 . 

“...What the hell?” You noticed something beyond my mask. You started to unscrew the other side of my jaw. You peeled through rust, metal, and stiff flesh, pulling my jaw down to see what was inside. Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back from me, your sleeve coming to your mouth. Fear and disgust dripped from you like sugar on a candied apple just out of my reach. You gagged as you rose to your feet, feeling your way into the kitchen.

You collapsed against the sink in the kitchen, just barely in my sight. You slowed your breathing, snapping off your blue gloves. You picked up something small and thin that glowed in your hand.

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:59.

 You held the object in your hand to your ear. Then, you started talking, “There’s a corpse in it.”

There was silence.

“Yes yes, hi, how are you, there’s a corpse in it! ”

Silence again. The object in your hand must’ve been a phone.

You put a palm to your forehead, “ The bunny animatronic! There’s a body! Inside! The! Animatronic! ” A heavy exhale past your lips, “Well, I don’t know! Did someone put it there, for the haunted attraction or-?” 

11:59 had never passed so slowly before.

You dragged your hand down your face, “... Yes , I’m sure. No, no it isn’t fresh. It’s old. Really old. Look, I’ve been listening to the tapes, someone probably died in that thing. And-and I guess they just sealed it away instead of-?”

12:00.

> Execute([MOVE])

> executing command = [MOVE]

Finally.

My body ached with rust and calcified tendons as I stood. It resisted movement as if it knew it was wrong for me to move. I silently snapped my jaw back into place. I dragged my eyes to you. 

Your back was facing away from me, toward the counter, “Yeah, yeah I know! Look. I’m going to call the police.” My eyes flicked to the thin object in your hand. No, you wouldn’t. “At the very least, that’s going to delay the attraction a few days, and at the most... You might have to find a job somewhere else. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t-”

You turned around and froze. I was behind you. Your eyes slowly scrolled up to mine, wide in shock. I left enough room for you to run. I wanted you to run. Run. Run .

“...Actually, I’m not going to call the police.”

You didn’t run. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You looked... excited.

... Disappointing.

In an attempt to scare you, I dropped my heavy arms onto your counter on either side of you, slamming against the smooth finish with a loud THUD . You flinched, but your lips turned up in an unconscious smile

“No, listen. It just moved ,” You said into your phone, and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from mine. “It moved! It works, after thirty years of rusting, it’s actually moving! I can’t get my toaster to last longer than five years, do you know how incredible that is?”

My head twitched, jerking to the side. You really reminded me of Henry.

Now that I was closer, I heard the faint sounds of someone talking from your thin phone. You rolled your eyes, “Honestly, I didn’t think he was actually moving on your shifts. I thought someone was trying to play a prank on you or something.”

Your hand came to my arm subconsciously as you talked, and my eyes snapped to it. You were touching me with your bare skin. Your bare skin on my rotting suit, but it felt like my flesh . It made me dizzy to feel someone. I couldn’t see anything but your fingers. You were just holding me, but it was all I could focus on. Warm flesh, soft skin, light touch —it drew breath I didn’t have; it sent electricity through my veins. I would sever your hand and glue it to my suit, but I couldn’t pull away from it to even cut you. All I could think was touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching-

“Don’t be mad!” You said with a laugh, and you drew idle circles on my arm that made my head spin. Literally. Gears sealed with rust beneath my suit spun for the first time in decades. It was grating and painful, but I wouldn’t dare trade it for you to stop. “The fact that the thing can actually move is a miracle . Wha- Of course , I’m being safe! It’s not hurting me, it’s just...” You tilted your head, looking at my eyes with nervous concern, “... Creepy...”

You pulled your hand away and it was freezing. My nails carved jagged slashes into your counter. You ducked under my arm and kept talking, “Let me work on him a little bit.” 

I felt heavy coming down from the high of your touch. My blunted, metal fingers wrapped around a knife you kept on your counter.

“Just for a little while, then I’ll call the police.”

My eyes trained on you—your back to me, completely unaware. I wondered if you’d still be excited if I cut pieces off of you?

“ Come on! Please? I just want to fix a few things. The rusting... His voicebox...”

I raised the knife above my head.

“The tapes mentioned something about a ‘storage protocol’ locking up the suit during the daytime? I bet I could fix that.”

I stopped.

“Oh, and he apparently follows noises. That’s probably why you kept seeing him move around at night. Maybe I could strip that from his programming, make something more useful for a horror attraction.” 

I slowly put the knife back on the counter, cushioning its handle with my fingertips to keep from making a noise.

“Hey, look at it this way, you’ll be able to keep your job? And when I bring him back to the attraction, he won’t scare you every night. And if I get a peek into the coding of this thing- Oh, relax! I’m not being-”

You turned around. I was inches away from you again.

“Whoa,” You swallowed. “Yeah, it just followed me again. It’s... so unnerving . Watch this thing be actually haunted.”

Yeah. Watch.

“Anyway, please don’t call the police,” You begged into the phone. “I only need one week, and then I’ll put him back together.”

You can put me back together. How... convenient. How unsatisfying , but convenient. I could be patient. If it meant being rid of the damned coding holding me back, I could be patient . 

A large smile stretched across your face once you got your answer from your friend, “Breakfast is on me tomorrow, okay? Thank you!” You tapped your phone and set it on the table. Then, you brought your eyes up to mine.

You were nervous. Your fingers shook when you looked at me, your body shifted from side to side, your eyes unable to break away from me as if I would strike if you did. I liked that you were nervous. You had good reason to be nervous. And then there was the keen interest in your eyes, hiding behind your visceral fear. The curiosity that would kill you. I liked that less.

You took a step to the side. Then, you stepped to the other side of me. You were testing to see if my eyes would follow you. You shivered when they did.

“Well, Bonnie. You’re mine,” You rubbed your arm as if there had been a sudden chill. “At least for the next week or so. Let’s put that time to good use, hmm?”

You rubbed your mouth and chin in contemplation. You took a few steps away from me, as if testing to see if I would follow. When I didn’t, you hummed in thought. You walked back into your living room.

“Come here, Bonnie!” You called, “Over here!”

... You were calling me like a dog?

error

command unclear

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No.

“Come on?” You exhaled. You looked around, before grabbing the newspaper lying on your coffee table. “ “Fazbear’s Fright: The Horror Attraction! Local amusement park is getting ready to scare your socks off with a new attraction based on the unsolved mysteries of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” ” 

You looked up. I didn’t move.

“Fine,” You dropped the newspaper back down and trudged back towards me. You rolled up your sleeves, and said, “Let’s go.” The thought of you grabbing me with your whole body again sent a piercing ringing through my skull.

> execute command [HOLD_HANDS] 

My hand jutted forward without my own volition. Looks like he also loathed the overstimulation. You flinched back from my hand like a startled animal, your chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Your breath slowed as your shaking eyes pulled away from my palm and to my own. You put your hand in mine.

Your touch was sweet warmth and it thrilled my flesh and wires to feel . I engulfed your hand in mine, and I craved to squeeze it until your bones cracked and blood seeped between my knuckles. Not yet, though. This might be your dominant hand.

You took a step back, and I took a step forward. “Okay,” You said, “This works.” You walked backwards, keeping your eyes on me, and you didn’t know the thin line you were treading.

I followed you to your living room where you kept your tools. Your eyes were glued to me, and I thought you couldn’t look away because you were afraid of what might happen if you did. But your eyes weren’t shaking, they were steady. They were steady on my legs, my arms, my chest—you were fascinated with my movement. You were captivated by every step. I loathed it, and worse, I understood it. I remembered my fascination with them . Wretched rotten little beasts.

I twitched as you gently guided me to sit on your couch. You leaned closer to me, your brow furrowed in inquisition, “...How can you move?”

I mimicked your head tilt. I hoped to unnerve you, but a delighted smile spread across your face. 

“Charming,” You said. You started to sift through your tools again, picking through them like fruit. “You’ll have to bear with me,” You were talking to yourself again, feigning to me. “I’ve never worked with machinery this old before... You wouldn’t happen to have a USB port would you?” You laughed as if I had any idea what you were talking about. “I’ll have to do a bit of research tomorrow, but for now let’s ease some of that corrosion, hm?”

You set down two small canisters and a fiberglass cloth next to your lap. Your eyes briefly flitted to mine, before timidly staring at my body. You kept your head lowered as you held my wrist. You were deliberately avoiding my stare. That excited me. 

You gently tilted my wrist back and forth, testing the joints, but you were grinding the sensitive tendons and gears in a drumming pain that was both too piercing and too dull. When you were done with my wrist, you moved to my arm, my shoulder, my jaw; the pain of your flexion mixed with the pleasure of your touch traveling up my body. Your fingertips were hesitant checking my joints. Were you afraid of touching my flesh? I hoped you were.

You took one of the canisters and held its nozzle to my wrist joint, but you hesitated. Your eyes were drawn to mine, but you hastily returned your focus to the canister you were holding, reading its label. When my eyes followed yours, I saw what was on the label. Hydrochloric acid. “...Is this going to corrode the corpse...?” You asked yourself. 

error

command unclear

> execute command ([MOVE]) = Yes/No?

> YES.

“Whatever,” Before you could tip the canister, my hand shot to your wrist. A choked gasp escaped your lips. You froze. You stilled your breath. Your wrist shook ever so slightly under my grip, and oh how I loved that. You were terrified , and it was so sweet to the taste , I could drink it . I realized if you tried to run from me, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from killing you.

You didn’t run. You swallowed, eyes shaking as you studied me. You couldn’t hold my gaze for a fraction of a second before, and now you acted as if your life depended on keeping it. “That’s-... That’s one hell of a safeguard protocol...” You said through a trembling breath. Your skin looked so alive and flush against my rotting, soiled fursuit.

I had never been good at resisting my impulses.

> Execute([SQUEEZE])

> executing command = [SQUEEZE]

Warm flesh and bone pressed under my grip, and panic seized you. I drank how your eyes flashed through shock, then stupor, then horror. I was slow. I wanted to savor it. You instinctually clawed at my wrist with your free hand. You dropped the canister, “ Wait! Stop, stop, don’t-!” 

I relished the sharp inhale that passed your lips when I abruptly dropped you. You held your wrist tenderly, massaging the bruise and leaning away from me with wide, uncertain eyes. I would have laughed if it were possible. You swallowed and slowly inched your hand down toward the discarded canister. My fingers twitched at the possibility of scaring you again, but you noticed. Like an animal being trained, you returned your hand.

“Okay. No rust remover.” You said slowly, as if the words tasted strange on your tongue. You held up the other canister, turning the label toward me. “Is oil okay?”

You watched me with dreadful anticipation, but I didn’t make any move to respond to you. You swallowed and slowly moved the oil to my wrist. Your body was tense, ready to jump back if I moved. That wouldn’t do you any good. I was faster than you. I was tempted to show you that, but... adding lubricant to my joints could make moving less of an excruciating hell. Even just the idea of a little relief from the pain was enough to temper my impulses.

Your brow furrowed as your eyes trained on me. “You... can tell the difference...?” The words past your lips in a doubtful whisper. You couldn’t believe it, and how amusing it was that you were made to. I wondered how long it would take you to figure out that it wasn’t genius coding hurting you; how complex my actions could get before you realized there was a conscious being ruling them. I could play pretend. It wouldn’t be my first time.

The prospect of ‘playing pretend’ sent tingling electricity through me, though I wasn’t sure it was me . Spring Bonnie loved to play games. I didn’t know that until he killed me.

Despite your doubts, you poured cool, thick oil over my joints. You used the soft cloth to smear it over my dull, rotting machinery. I wished you’d use your bare hands, but I feared you’d stop altogether if I snatched the cloth from you. You were quick with your work, spreading a few cursory swipes before moving onto the next joint. Were you afraid I’d grab you again? That tempted me to. 

You coated the joints at each of my limbs, kneeling below me to lubricate my legs and feet. I noticed your raw disgust at my legs, where my corpse was most exposed. You avoided touching my rotten flesh; you didn’t even attempt to dig past my viscera to lubricate the joint at my waist. You hesitated when you reached my neck. 

I leaned my head closer to you, tilting my chin to the side so you would have easier access.

I relished the subtle, weighted inhale you couldn’t suppress. You swallowed before slowly reaching out with your cloth. You smeared thick oil with one hand, but the other hand you used to hold my jaw—your bare hand. It was dizzying to feel. It hypnotized me; wiped my mind the moment you touched me. My eyes closed and my machinery hummed. You were so alive . Your fingers were so alive. I needed them. I needed them. 

“...Weird...” You said. You pulled away from me and I was cold. I hated that I was cold . Rage crept through me until I was blind with it. I hated that you pulled away. I hated that you were alive. I hated that you weren’t touching me. I hated that I needed it. I hated you. I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d-

You held out your hand for me to grab. I took it. 

You stood up and led me to my crate, “There you go. How does that feel?”

The pain was still there, but it was dampened.

You hummed, “Your movement is a little smoother. I wish I could’ve scrubbed off some of that rust...” You leaned closer to my torso, peeking past the viscera. “I spotted a PLC behind all that-” You swallowed, bringing your eyes up to mine before looking away, “Uhm, well anyway, we can do more tomorrow. What do you think about getting your voicebox fixed, hmm?”

I didn’t want my voicebox fixed. I wanted that damned storage protocol gone. And Spring Bonnie’s penchant for children’s noises. However, I couldn’t tell you that. 

You peered at me, turning your head slightly as if you expected me to respond. I didn’t. “...Alright, well....”

You tried to lead me into the box; dragging my hand to it, lightly pushing me in. I wouldn’t go back into the crate.

“...Okay, you can just... stand here then,” You shivered. My eyes followed you as you withdrew from me and moved to a door. “ Goodnight, Bonnie.” You flicked the lights and I was in darkness.

I didn’t move from my spot, but I could still hear you move from the other room. Light pooled at the bottom of the door, an occasional shadow gliding across the floor. Finally, the lights switched off. 

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No. Not yet.

I was alone. The darkness and silence were nauseating. The white noise returned at the edges of my mind like a creeping sickness. It was dulling, it was numbing, it was maddening . But I could wait. Just until you fell asleep.

I waited. Stillness hugged the air like a blanket. I waited until I suffocated on static.

> Execute([FOLLOW])

Pressure released from my metal bones as they executed the command. I was silent as I moved. I wouldn’t wake you.

I turned the handle of the door. It was locked. 

...Very clever, carrot.

With one quick, muffled jerk, I snapped the doorknob off. Your door slowly creaked open. I dropped the doorknob; it bounced softly on your carpet. My eyes scanned the room for you. It was a bedroom, small and quaint. The blankets shifted on the bed. You didn’t wake. Part of me wished you did.

I moved noiseless to your bedside. You were buried in blankets. Your breath was slow and heavy. How easy would it be to wrap my hands around your throat? To lean over your sleeping body and watch the panic and fear flood your expression? If I had taken a knife from the kitchen, I could’ve painted the sheets with your blood. I’d feel the warmth bleed from you. Your horror would give way to numbness—eyes full of life fading to nothing. You’d be consumed by the static that never left me. Your death, though satisfying, wasn’t what excited me. It was your fear. The terror thrilled me. It thrilled me long before I was dead. 

I didn’t sleep. My body and mind still needed it— craved it— but I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept since death.

I didn’t kill you, though my maggot riddled mind desperately craved to. Even if you weren’t going to put me back together, I wouldn’t be able to resist prolonging your death—squeezing every last drop of fear I could from your heart. Now... now I just had to prolong it a little longer than I first intended. I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to savor your terror. To twist your waking moments with dread . You already were second guessing yourself. How could a machine decades old execute such an advanced cognitive function? How could I know what materials you were holding? How could I follow you without you noticing? How could I break into your room, and why was I watching you sleep?

You didn’t know that last one yet, but I was simply giddy to watch that horror wash over you.

No, I didn’t kill you. But I imagined it. I imagined it so vividly, it felt tangible— mouthwateringly tangible. Over and over , playing like a favorite melody. It was my favorite melody. And when I killed you, I’d dance to the song that was your screams.

[snowwolf23]

How each of the boys would carry an injured player.

[snowwolf23]

🍞🌿

Comic idea based off this meme thing:

[snowwolf23]

throwing a tantrum

[snowwolf23]

player i need to press my screen against your face for scientific reasons