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Melancholia (William Afton x F! Reader) [Part 2]

~You may want to have little bit of a stronger stomach for this one, folks~

@itsybitsyb0nes @springlockedfool @brightcosmos

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI - Age difference, Older man/younger woman, Murder (adult and child), violent acts, manipulation, gas-lighting, dead bodies, blood, gore, graphic description of injury, use of religious imagery, toxic relationship, boss x employee, god-complex, knife-play, vomiting/retching/gagging

William Afton gazed down at your frightened form beneath him. Shadowed by his presence, covered in blood and his sins with the wide look of horror and fear that made his shiver in anticipation. His hands tightening on the axe instinctually as his pupils widened in the low light. Adrenaline coursing through him, the thrill of being caught in such a perverse act, dismembering a body. He almost wished you had gotten there all but ten minutes earlier, he wondered what you would have done, seeing the killing blow being brought down on your co-workers head.

The body had no use to him anymore. But you had potential as his newest disciple.

He grabbed your arm, gripping so tightly you knew you would bruise, making you yelp as he dragged you to your feet despite the slick floor. You could see it properly now that the light was turned on. The gore that splattered across the table, oozing from the gap where his head once sat. There was something acrid smelling too that dripped from a throat that would never close again, making bile rising in your own throat as you looked over the torso that had been stripped down. Shirt and vest gone, you could make it out in a bin-bag in the corner of the room, you felt at least grateful that William had left your co-workers pants on. As strange as the thought was.

William slid in behind you, making your body tense as you could feel the taller, predatory figure against your coated back. Barely warm blood seeping into your own clothes, as Afton wrapped his hands around yours, placing the axe into them as your mind raced as to what he was doing. Shock had settled in deep within your psyche.

You hadn't even cried tears for your co-worker yet.

His hands moved awkwardly around your loose grip, staring at the body in front of you as he forced you to bring it down. Flinching as your hands gripped onto the shaft of the axe handle despite the fact you wanted to do anything but that in that moment as the sharp blade bit into the torso. The sickening sound of wet meat and crunching bones and cartilage filling your ears as William raised your hands again, letting the weight of the axe fall and cutting further into the chest. The low, almost wheeze of air exiting dead lungs, sounding almost like a moan of pain making you finally sob as your body shook. The reality hitting you as you tried to struggle away from your boss but were only met with his hands tightening on yours and forcing the axe down harder.

You had never wanted to know what the smell of a split human stomach was, or to know what the bisection of a lung looked like, but you gagged as those images were seared into your retinas. William humming in distaste as he surveyed what you had accomplished together. Turning his head towards yours and smiling almost reassuringly as his eyes sparked and his breathing was a little ragged, licking up the track of one of your tears as you continued to sob. Squeezing your eyes shut and turning your head away.

"Little lamb, you took communion so well. Doesn't it feel good?" He cooed, stroking your hair with bloody hands and streaking more evidence through it as you gagged. The smell in the small room was vile, as was your proximity to the murderer.

"N-No...God, no it doesn't feel good. You're a monster."

"If I'm a monster, then so are you. Your prints are now all over the weapon, I could testify that you helped me cut him up into little pieces." A promise, a threat, as William stepped out from behind you. Axe over his shoulder as he surveyed what was left to be done. Tutting and sucking air through his teeth as he stood over the body, fingers tapping impatiently over the wooden handle of his chosen weapon. "Damn it, you got his stomach. That's going to be a pain to clean up."

The comment was almost so normal that you couldn't help a startled laugh that escaped your lips, making William raise an eyebrow at you as you were half laughing, half sobbing. Choking on mucus and spit as your mind reeled at what was happening.

"Oh well I'm terribly sorry I've made a mess." The words were as slick with venom as there was bile in your throat. William huffed, that predatory smile returning to his face as he hefted the axe again, swinging it with vicious force and burying it half into one hip joint. Hearing the meaty crack and splinter that meant he had met his mark.

"Your apology is accepted, little lamb. Now," Another swing as you kept your head turned, unable to watch but only finding yourself staring at the decapitated head on the floor instead. "Strip."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?" Your head snapped back towards William, who shrugged off his blazer, unbuttoning the purple, starred vest and revealing how tightly his white shirt fixed to his firm chest. The only sign of blood against his cheeks, smattered into his grey hair and across the collar of his white shirt. Not even glancing at you as he picked up the axe again. starting to separate the other leg from the body.

"Strip. You're covered in evidence and we need to get rid of it." Gesturing to your vaguely as you looked down at yourself. The tears still streaming down your face, unable to stop them as you realise your breathing was no longer verging into hyperventilation. "Also, second warning for language."

"You're chopping up a...you're chopping up one of my friends and you're warning me about swearing?"

"You're in uniform. You know the rules."

"Pretty sure there's rules about murder too."

"Freddy's is a place where fantasy and fun comes to life. This is my fun." The way he so easily twisted the tagline for the normally cheerful restaurant turned your stomach. But you weren't sure your already weak digestive system could handle adding to the smell of blood, meat and vomit that permeated the small space. "Now, are you going to give me your damn clothes, or am I going to have to come rip them off of you?" Turning his attention to you with the same slow, predatory smile that made your blood run cold.

Shaking your head to indicate that it wouldn't be necessary, your fingers shook as you unbuttoned your own star vest. Shrugging it off before letting it drop to the floor. Swallowing hard as you began to unbutton your shirt too, glancing up at Afton and watching as he had completely turned his attention back to the body, swinging the axe with precise movements that made you wonder just how many times he'd made the motion before, how he managed to keep so calm and collected about it all. Your shirt dropped too, hands covering your bra and chest as you tried to discreetly reach behind you and check whether or not there was blood on the strap around your back.

"Shoes and socks too."

"Mr. Afton, I-" Opening your mouth to protest as you looked at the gore on the floor, swallowing hard as you tried to desperately not think how it had been a living human that you knew.

"No ifs ands or buts. All of it comes off. You can keep your underwear if you like. You got it all over you."

"And you didn't?"

"That's different. I know how to get blood out of my clothes." Another swing and he used the blade of the axe to move the pieces he'd cut towards the edge of the table. Grabbing a few trash bags and wrapping them around the various limbs, bone splinters and internal organs as they spilt out of the body cavity. Your stomach turned as you heard and watched them sloshing about.

"And I, as somebody who has a period doesn't?" The comment slipped out before you could stop it, making Afton pause and look up at you. That manic smile reappearing as he began to laugh, the sound rich and vibrant as his blue eyes flashed, running his hand through his brown hair as his tongue worried over one canine.

"See, I knew I was right about you, there's something workable in there." Laughing as he shook his head in disbelief. Continuing to scrape and clean the table with a practised ease, even as he grunted whilst moving some of the heavier bags. Bringing out a tub of cleaning supplies and gesturing vaguely to the binbag pile. "Put your clothes in there when you're done. You can go wait in the bathroom if you like. Although, if I find that you've left, or decided to call the cops..." He trailed off and gestured to the table in front of you. Making you nod in understanding before you finished stripping down and gingerly placing your clothes in the bag. Trying not to gag and failing as you were sure that you touched still warm intestines.

You hurried towards the bathrooms, looking around the hallway section and realising that it was perfect for William to work in. There were no cameras apart from near the door into the main dining area, since there were bathrooms near by and it would open up the company to all sorts of lawsuits if somebody felt that their privacy was being invaded.

It felt like an age, sat against the cold tile and shivering, arms wrapped around yourself as you wished that you could warm up. In reality, it wasn't that cold, but the shock had set in and your body was trying anything to shut out the horror, the feeling of cooling skin beneath your fingers. Organ meat squishing in black bags, the way that your co-worker's head bounced against the floor before William Afton booted it out of the way.

You weren't as covered as you were, but you could feel the ghost of the blood lingering against your skin.

The bathroom door swung open, and you barely lifted your head from your knees. It wasn't until a soft hand touched your head that you looked up, bleary eyes puffy from crying as the reality sunk in that you had experienced death up close and personal. You hoped for a saviour.

All you got was William Afton.

He was shirtless, and you realised after a quick appraisal, pantsless too. Wearing tight black boxers, you might have laughed at the absurdity of it all if you weren't tracing the faint lines and dots that seemed to be mirrored up his chest. A sparse trail of hair across his chest and stomach as he smiled in what you supposed was a benevolent way down at you. He looked like a priest, laying hands on the congregation and absolving them of their sins.

The irony did not escape you.

"You need to shower. I have some spare clothes in here that we can use."

"Leave me be. Maybe I'll wake up from this nightmare if I just keep my eyes closed." Murmuring as William sighed and tutted. Crouching down in front of you and running those same bloody hands soothingly over your hair.

"Most people would be happy to be in the presence of a man like me." He sighed, watching your head move slightly as you looked at his angular features, the dark almost bruises under his eyes making his blue eyes stand out more as the lacked that spark once more. Cold. Dead.

"A murderer?"

"A god, little lamb."

"You're not a god, you're sick."

"I have controlled life, whether somebody lives and somebody dies. Is that not, in it's most basic essence, what a god is?" You stared at him as he gave a rueful smile, his hand landing on your cheek and stroking the thumb over your cheek bone as he stood up, turning and cocking his head to one side as he gave you a smile.

"Do not make me regret my decision to be benevolent, little lamb."

You woke up in your own bed the next day. The lingering sense of an uneasy dream following you as you swallowed, reaching for the half drunk soda besides your bed as you looked at the time, rubbing at your face with your palm, digging the heel in.

You could have almost convinced yourself that it was really just a horrible dream if it wasn't for the new, still in the plastic wrapping uniform that sat on your dresser.

Bile rose and you grabbed the trashcan nearby as your guts emptied themselves of their contents. Coughing and spluttering as you drooled acid and orange tinted stomach lining into the bag lining the trash. Splashes of dark soda looking too much like congealed blood in your shaken mind as you retched again. Your head hurt, your whole body hurt. Grabbing the phone as tears streamed down your cheeks and you tried to swallow back the foul, acrid taste in your mouth. Tongue running over your fuzzy teeth as you dialled the number for Freddy's and heard it ring a few times, staring off into space as you waited for somebody to pick up.

"Good morning, little lamb." The cool British accent made you want to cry as you felt your whole body tensing. Sobbing before you could control it, free hand shakily reaching up and wiping your trembling lips as you heard him make a satisfied hum through the crackling phone-line. "No good morning for me?"

"Go to hell." You croaked, earning a tut and a chuckle from your boss.

"Rude. And here I was thinking that we parted last night with a special understanding." You could practically hear his pout through the phone.

"What, that I'll be dead before I hit the door if I told anybody?" Thinking back to the blended blur of emotional turmoil, unable to pick out a specific point where he might have been referring to.

"That too, but that you would be my disciple."

"I'm not your disciple. I'm your fucking Judas." You spat, tired of him harping on with what you had pieced together was a god-complex. Running your fingers through your hair as you moved the trashcan to one side, hoping that moving the source of the smell would make you less queasy.

"Fiesty today aren't you? Well, Judas was still a disciple first, dear, if you're going to try and use faith against me." Chuckling through the phone as you heard a faint creak and imagined William leaning back in an office chair. "Why did you call, little lamb?"

"I called Freddy's, not you."

"Sadly, there was a network outage last night, the only phones that work in the building right now are Henry's and mine." You swore under your breath, feeling your fingers snag in a knot that had formed as you tossed and turned over your pillow. Glancing back at your messed up sheets and comforter before sighing.

"I've thrown up, I shouldn't be around food today."

"Perfect, then you'll work in my office. I need somebody to help me do paperwork." You could hear the disinterested musing in his voice, despite the fact that your stomach was still twisting, your blood boiled, hands tightening on the phone. "See you in a few hours, little lamb."

The fact he had hung up on you didn't even register until you went to open your mouth, and all your heard was the sound of the dead line.

It was almost funny, how easily William Afton snuffed out things like that.

Afton's office was surprisingly spacious when you had entered it upon arrival to work. Dressed in a uniform so new and crisp that it dug into you at weird angles slightly, you felt embarrassed as your colleagues stared at you and whispered amongst themselves. Any rumours that had started to percolate were quickly dismissed however, as soon as they saw your drained, greenish complexion.

You weren't really in a fit state to be working.

But there you sat, on a kid's party chair that William had clearly dragged up the stairs and sat at a low coffee table. The room itself wasn't large, but William had kept it relatively dark. A control panel on one wall that you figured was for party lighting, which made sense as you knew a lot of kids would find and fiddle with it otherwise. You were surprised however, to see the same paper stars and neon confetti carpet in the space, despite the dark, dull furniture, the lack of personal items about the place and on surfaces, you would almost describe the office as friendly.

Almost.

William Afton ruined the illusion entirely.

The tall man was dressed in another black suit ensemble, white shirt and purple vest. His pin-badges were back too, although when you looked carefully, they were different than the day before. The worn out enamel one was still there. An almost skeletal grin on what might once have been a yellow bunny, you wondered how many damn badges he had that he could just change them on a whim. His hair tousled back roughly, blue eyes flickering over paperwork as he silently leafed through them.

He hadn't even greeted you when you entered his office, simply gestured to the too small chair and a pile of manila envelopes. You figured out the task pretty quickly, stamp the envelopes and push in the paperwork that needed to be filled out into them, realising that they were health and safety training on 'bio-hazard clean-up'. A little scoff escaped your lips at the absurdity, making William glance up at you and raise an eyebrow before going back to his paperwork.

"So, are we not going to mention last night, at all?" You were the one the break the silence first, watching your boss pause before leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. Realising all too late that you had played directly into his hand.

"What is there to talk about, unless you want to relive the gory details?" His eyes sparked and his tongue ran over his teeth, your head shook before you could stop it. Earning a disappointed huff from him as he sat back in his office chair. The plastic groaning as it strained slightly. Eyeing you coolly before slowly standing to his towering height. Rolling his shoulders and joints, hearing the pop and crackle of joints that seemed a little bit worse for wear than somebody his age should be.

"Why didn't you kill me?" The words hung heavy from your lips, William staring at you before approaching you, nodding his head up as a gesture for you to stand, waiting for your compliance before growing frustrated that you weren't moving quickly enough for his liking. Grabbing your upper arm in a vice-like grip, making you yelp as you tried to fling your weight out of his hand whilst he sighed and dragged you over to the large glass window that took up a large portion of his office.

"What are you doing, let me go!" You protested, trying to stop yourself from approaching the glass as images of you being thrown through it came to mind.

Afton scoffed as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck. Forcing you to look down over the dining area and watch as your co-workers moved about and children played as normal. Running, screaming, even behind the thick, one-way glass, you could hear the tinny bass of the music from Freddy and the band. You hadn't ever realised it was one-way, thinking the darkness of the glass was a trick of the light and angle.

"See? Isn't being so high wonderful? I get to watch you all and play with your lives without you realising it. Want more hours? You'll have to impress me first. Piss me off? You'll barely meet the requirements of the contract for your employment." His breath cool against your ear and making you shiver as your gaze flickered sideways, and you saw that same elated spark.

"I-I see." Swallowing, praying he would let you go soon. But William's eyes were focused outside, watching the pizzeria go by without a care.

"Pick one." His voice startled you, your attention landing fully on his his intense blue gaze.

"What?" "Pick one."

"For what?"

"You'll find out. Pick one. This is a chance for you to play god with me, little lamb, and I am not comfortable sharing my throne."

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked down at the swirling mass of families and workers. Eyes naturally drawn to the purple of the staff vests, but then your attention flickered to a child running through in a bright pink dress and blonde curls, before an adult leaning against one of the vending machines and trying to sneakily vape caught your attention. A group of children circled around a smaller one, a child in a party hat. You couldn't pick a child, the smell of spilt vomit and heavy, cloying iron filling your mind as you thought of that inanimate, slack jawed expression on such a young face.

You couldn't pick one.

Could you?

The cool glass under your fingertip was the first indication that you had in fact, chosen.

"That one." The words a whisper almost lost on William as he glanced along your line of sight. A slowly building mania palpable on his face as he looked where you were pointing.

A young lad, perhaps twelve, maybe a little younger and large for his age. You recognised that striped t-shirt from a mile away, the poorly done buzz-cut, he was a real handful for everybody who worked there. Parents dropped him off with five dollars and the promise that they would 'be back later before closing', and so the child had become a menace in search of arcade tokens, tickets and loose change. You couldn't believe that you had picked a child out for whatever William had planned.

And neither could he.

"An interesting choice, little lamb...I'll be back in a moment." His hands lingering down your back as he released the grip on your nape, trailing down the curve of your spine before offering you that wide smile, although the light didn't reach his eyes as usual. Stuffing his hands into his blazer pockets, you didn't need to be told twice to stay where you were.

William made his way down the spiral staircase that might have once been an exterior features for a building, you watched helplessly from above as he stalked his chosen prey through the crowd. How he bobbed and weaved with a grace and ease that surprised you given how tall he was, and whilst he wasn't thin, it would have been very hard to call him 'built'. Swallowing hard as the adrenaline set in, watching as he approached the child, wondering that surely, William wasn't such a monster that he would harm a child. Let alone in public.

You closed your eyes and put your head into your hands. Your stomach turned again, unable to bear to watch as all your mind could focus on was how much glee William had in his face after you had swung the axe into your co-worker's chest. The thick, cracking, meaty sound that you knew would haunt you to your dying day, as quickly as it may come without the chance to absolve yourself of these sins.

The hand on your shoulder made you give a short scream, before that hand clamped over your mouth and you felt warm breath stroking over your ear in a sensual caress.

"Look little lamb, at what you have done whilst playing god."

You forced your eyes to open after a moment, looking exactly where the kid had been standing. Stomach dropping as they weren't there anymore, frantically searching the main dining hall as William's slender fingers rested against your pulse point, hearing him groaning in your ear as he felt is fluttering and pounding under his touch. Wondering how much fear he could push through you before your body would collapse and cease to function. Finally, you caught sight of him, mouth opening to warn him, despite the fact that William had a firm grip over your mouth to stop you uttering a pee.

You were surprised, doing a double take when you saw the child standing by an arcade game and pushing in tokens occasionally. Frowning, you knew that the kid would always spend his money on drink and a soda, wondering where he got the money from for extra tickets.

"See, doll, I can be kind....gentle...God doesn't always need to be wrathful." Murmuring lowly, he stroked your hair in a way that made you shiver. Swallowing hard as you turned your head out of his hand and looked at him, cheeks flushing and every nerve screaming at you that it was wrong and you needed to leave as William's face was less than an inch away from yours.

"But, I am going to have to take two to balance it out now, don't you think?"

Of course there was a catch.

There were always catches to the deals with the Devil after all.

Warmups of Wills hehe

I love how you write the first meetings between the reader and William so naturally. Meeting at the clock out machine is such a creative scenario, like how do you even come up with these things???

And boy oh boy, you layed it on thick right in the first chapter, I love it! If this is going to be a dark series, like Mechanised devotion was, then I'm so looking forward to reading more of it!

Melancholia (William Afton x F! Reader) [Part 1]

~So, I decided I wanted a go at writing William Afton from the games instead of Movie version/Steve Raglan, and I thought, what better way to explore that than through some really obvious religious imagery because that man definitely has a god-complex. This is obviously an AU, please don't hate on it because 'it's not cannon'~

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI - Age difference, Older man/younger woman, Murder (adult and child), violent acts, manipulation, gas-lighting, dead bodies, blood, gore, graphic description of injury, use of religious imagery, toxic relationship, boss x employee, god-complex, knife-play

The shrieks of voices and the blaring, bleeping arcade lights were almost overwhelming if you had never been to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza before. There was always a chaotic energy to the place, kids running about, practically seeing who could take out the most staff as they barrelled from the dining area and party rooms towards the arcade. You learnt to be quick on your feet and observant of your surroundings quite quickly.

"Hey superstar, you need to watch where you're going okay?" You laughed to a child who almost collided with your legs, one hand shooting down to protect your black work pants from the half-drunk cup of soda as they looked up at you and stuck their tongue out, scowling as much as the chubby face of an eight year old could before running off again.

Picking one of the nearby tables that had no patrons sat at it, you began to clean up. Piling up the discarded wax-paper lined baskets of half-chewed fries coated in god-knew-how-much ketchup and the pizza tray, swearing under your breath as you spilt soda down your purple starry vest. The uniform had changed recently from fairly easy to clean plain red, to the god-awful embroidered purple, the silver stars were supposed to match the curtains on Pirate's Cove and the paper ones that hung from the ceiling. Glancing up at them, you caught sight of the large window that overlooked the main dining room, the dark.

Every employee in Freddy's knew of that room. William Afton's office, from where he looked down at all the people like god-on-high. You hadn't had a run in with Afton during your two year employment, but you'd heard the tales. He moved weirdly silently for a man of his height, you'd even heard co-workers joking that he wasn't even human, that Henry Emily had replaced him with a robot some time ago, that you could tell by the cold, dead way his blue eyes focused on people. That he had been the one orchestrating the aftermath when an employee had had their skull cracked open by a malfunctioning animatronic, standing calmly amongst the chaos and blood with barely a wrinkled nose of disgust.

A touch on your shoulder shook your out of your thoughts and snapped you back into the chaos of Freddy's once more. The dark, neon patterned carpet making your eyes swim as you realised you had looked down automatically to child level.

"You look fucking exhausted." A mousy brown haired guy laughed, wearing the same uniform as you, his own white shirt splattered with ketchup and other slightly dubious grease stains as you relaxed your shoulders. You couldn't remember his name, but you knew the guy at least, you'd worked together a few times, and he always spared a smile for you.

"There are children present." You mumbled, earning a laugh as he grabbed the glasses from the table, holding onto them as you picked up the tray full of dining debris and headed towards the kitchen together. "If Mr. Emily or Mr. Afton catches you, you'll get your pay docked."

"Mr. Emily keeps himself in the workshop constantly and maybe three people on staff have seen Mr. Afton, like...ever." He laughed, rolling his eyes and weaving through bodies like he too was well practised, although the slight sheen to the work pants legs told of plenty of grabby little, sticky hands that had collided with him.

"He's not a god-damn cryptid!" Shaking your head and placing down the clutter from the wash-pass, wiping down your hands against your pants before bending over slightly and looking at the clock through the small window.

It was time to clock out at least, sighing as you headed towards the back corridors that belonged to the staff. The colourful lights dancing across everything in the pizzeria as you heard Freddy and the band starting up through the tinny speakers that should have been replaced something like a decade ago. Your colleague following you with a shrug as he gestured to the chunky watch he had on his wrist.

"Hey, it's time for me to clock off too. God knows we don't get overtime, and secondly, going back to my earlier point; half these kids know more foul language than we do." Pointing to a corner where a bunch of kids seemed to be focused on a much small child, crying in the corner. The laughter you could faintly hear as you passed by them to get to the employee's only door giving you a good indication that it wasn't in good nature, both looking at each other before walking a little faster.

Not on the clock, not your problem.

You waved goodbye as you headed towards the women's locker room on the west side of the building, thankful that least upper management had thought to put in separate changing rooms as you tiredly unbuttoned the starry vest, breathing a sigh of relief as you ran your fingers through your hair. Cringing when you realised that you didn't quite know what they'd touched through the day and sighing that you were going to have to wash your hair. Again. Nobody told you that working with kids would leave you feeling like you should get hazard pay for simply being in their vicinity, god only knew how many times you'd filed for sick pay when some brat had given you the flu or some other stubborn thing that wouldn't leave you be.

Changing quickly, you headed out. Uniform stuck in a plastic bag to avoid it getting too close to the semi-clean clothes you'd shoved in, in order to change into once your shift ended. Glancing up and down the comparatively quiet corridor as you picked up your time card and placed it into the clock, swearing slightly as you couldn't get the punch to work. Banging your fist against the wall in frustration, wondering why management didn't just spend a little more money on the damn equipment that you all had to use, rather than public relations to cover the bad press the pizzeria had.

"Is there a problem?"

You spun on your heel as you heard the unfamiliar voice, brow knitted together as you stared at the voice's owner. He was leaned against the nearby wall, his head cocked to one side slightly as he looked down at you with a cold regard that seemed more like he was regarding something inanimate than a person. Glancing over him, he was slender, but wiry as he had his arms crossed over his chest, able to see the tendons moving in his hands as his fingers flexed, but he was wearing the white shirt, purple starry vest and black pants that marked him as part of Freddy's. The start of dark circles under his eyes were also par for the course.

"Yeah, stupid punch clock won't move." Huffing and turning your attention back to the clock, feeling yourself wince as you noticed the time had crawled by and you were already a few minutes over your shift. Time you would never get back. "You can clock in in a moment."

He was too clean to have been clocking out. You supposed that the clock on the other side of the halls closer to the men's was probably just as busted, if not more so.

A pale, slender hand reached into your vision and startled you, making you take a step back as the man clicked a small button on the side of the clock before pressing down the stamp. Stamping your card for you, pulling it out with a flourish and handing it over with a lazy smile that made your chest tighten unusually, even if his blue eyes didn't seem to carry any warmth to them.

"You've got to check the safety's on or not. It's to stop people messing with the time cards if they came back here accidentally." His accent was rough, British, soothing. You frowned, looking up slightly at him and watching as he ran his fingers through his cool brown hair, which seemed roughly cut like he had done it himself. Greying at the temples and the occasional grey hair standing out against his darker hair. "You'll get used to it."

"I've worked here for two years and never heard of that bullshit." You muttered, rolling your eyes and changing your bag to your other hand as the man raised a thick eyebrow and stared at you some more.

"You've worked here for two years?" Seemingly surprised by the statement as you shrugged your shoulders. Wanting to go home and collapse onto your bed, not stand around talking to some newbie.

"And?"

"I've just never seen you around."

"You probably know me by my name, it's-"

"I honestly don't give a fuck what your name is. I need to finish my work, and you should go home, doll, I'm sure there's...something...you have to fill your time with." The sudden shift in his soothing voice made you blink, his tone never changing, reading as bored. Somehow, you felt mildly offended that this stranger simply seemed not to care, sucking your teeth and tutting as you shook your head and began to walk for the door. Feeling his eyes linger for just a moment before footsteps moving away told you that you were being left alone.

The next day, you managed to drag yourself into Freddy's with five minutes to spare before your shift. Grabbing your punch card and clocking in before you quickly got on your freshly washed uniform with barely enough time to grab a soda and carry with you into the main dining area. Wednesdays had never been particularly busy, but then again, what counted as 'quiet' for Freddy's never quite aligned to the other businesses in Hurricane's idea of it.

You took a deep breath and went to lean against the prize counter for a brief reprieve before the onslaught, hearing a door open and looking towards the arched entrance and waiting for a customer to emerge despite the fact it was nine in the morning, shrugging when you didn't see one emerging. Eyes flickering about to see if you could locate where the noise had come from, seeing movement on the staircase up to Afton's office that was tucked away in the corner of the pizzeria. Raising your eyebrow as you pulled out your soda and took a sip, wondering who was visiting your elusive boss.

You almost choked when the figure paused and looked directly at you however.

It was the guy from the previous day. Only this time he had a black blazer over the top of his purple vest, one lapel covered in various pin-badges from the arcade games and prize counter that made a faint clinking noise with how many there were as he walked in your direction. His hair was swept back, like he had just run his finger through it, and you could see a slight curl to the flyaway pieces that had refused to comply. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks as he glanced at you for a moment, pausing and blinking slowly as you stared back.

"No trouble with the punch-clock this morning then?" That same soothing lull to his voice as you quietly shook your head and took another sip of your drink. Eyes flickering over his badges on his lapel, one worn out enamel pin of what looked like a rabbit head catching your eye before you spotted some red against his purple vest. The colour having seeped into the silvery stars embroidery.

"You have something on your vest." Making the man look down, pulling his vest away from his body to look before his blue eyes snapped back up. A wolfish grin spreading across your face that made your heart race just a little as there was a dark spark in the usually dim eyes.

"Oh, nothing to worry about. It's only marinara sauce."

With that, he passed by. No explanation, no excuse. You watched the tall, lithe man leave with a little confusion as to who he was. You decided that you had to know, jogging after him slightly to catch up with his long, purposeful strides. The man pausing and looking at you curiously, eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Look, you might not give a fuck about what my name is, but I do give a fuck about what yours is." Crossing your arms across your chest, he cocked his head slightly, regarding you with a sudden interest that hadn't been there before. Like he was realising that you were a living, breathing person for the first time. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face, turning to face you fully before sliding his hand from his pocket, offering it for you to shake. You noticed that his hands were well manicured, even if the nails were a little longer than you expected and the way he squeezed your hand when you shook made them bite a little into your skin.

"William, Afton that is." You could feel the colour draining from your face as he pulled you forwards, having to take a step closer and his voice low, almost purring as he spoke quietly. "And don't worry, doll, I'll let the swearing slide this time."

"You didn't care yesterday."

"You weren't in uniform yesterday, remember?" Releasing your hand and giving you another wolfish smile as his hand returned to his pockets, the faint jingle of the pin badges as he moved an almost comical sound as William stared for a second. Turning on his heels and moving off with no more thought than if he had already said 'goodbye'.

Well, now you could at least say you had met one of your bosses. Even if something in the back of your head scratched and itched as to why William Afton was handling marinara sauce, reasoning that it was probably from his lunch break, not that he looked like he ate often, and you had never actually seen somebody take anything up to his office space. Glancing at the darkened upstairs window, you shook your head and decided it wasn't worth thinking about. Swallowing down your confusion and settling your sights on one of the smaller, fresher faced workers with a scowl as they tried to make a beeline for the prize-counter unnoticed.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going, newbie? Older workers get to pick their jobs first, you know the rules." The unwritten code of Fazbear Entertainment workers as the smaller figure startled and scurried away whilst you detoured to pick up your drink and head towards the prize counter.

It was going to be a long day.

You'd forgotten you were on closing duties, even though you had begged to swap. Open to close was a brutal shift that nobody enjoyed, especially since to 'cut costs', recently there had only been one member of staff closing down each night. The pizzeria was creepy when the lights were mostly turned off, only the flickering arcade screens and the backlit animatronic stage to light the main dining area. Casting long shadows across Freddy, Bonnie and Chica's soft furred parts. The eye sockets seeming hollower without the eyes being lit up, the way their jaws hung open slackly seeming almost like the death throes of the animals they represented, or an all too human scream. You couldn't decide which was worse.

Heading back into the employee corridor, your footsteps seemed to echo slightly against the chequered tiles, so used to the faint sound of the extremely loud music playing from birthday parties and children's games as they ran around. Instead, there was only your footsteps and the hum of the halogen light strips above you. Casting everything in a slight sickly yellow glow. Eyes darting as you took stock of the cobwebs that had probably been there since the restaurant opened, posters lining the check bordered walls, kids drawings scattered amongst it all. Memories of happy children who loved to see the animatronics perform, or had their birthdays at that location.

You were pulled from your thoughts as a metallic clatter caught your attention. Pausing and glancing down the corridor where the sound came from. There was only one door at the end of it, which you couldn't read the signage on from where you stood. Slowly approaching and trying to place your heel down first, quieting your footsteps against the tile as your heart began to thump harder in your chest.

"Hello?" You called out instinctually, cursing yourself for it when you were trying to be sneaky. If there was anybody, they surely would have gotten spooked and ran off by the time you got to the door, but you reasoned that you weren't about to get jumped by some drugged up junkie looking to steal metal to sell off to feed their habit. The door looming large as your eyes wandered over the lettering embossed onto the plaque screwed to it. 'Parts and Services'.

Pushing the door open, you had to blink to adjust your eyes to the darkness inside. Swallowing as you stepped in and the heavy door automatically swung shut under it's own weight behind you. Eyes adjusting to the very low light, flickering as your hands reached out in front of you and felt for some form of light to turn on.

Two years you had worked there, two years you had avoided any of the creepy horror stories that surrounded Freddy's and it's owners. You just had to go and stick your nose where it didn't belong, and you were left fumbling in the dark, managing to grab onto a table as you slipped in something slick across the tile floor. Feeling across the table and squealing when your fingers touched something furry. Praying that it wasn't a rat that had decided to place itself upon the altar of mechanical parts. Heart beating so quickly you could hear it pounding in your ears, hands shaking as you reached your hand out again to check whether or not the thing was still there.

Your fingers found the furred texture again, realising it was longer than anticipated and pushing your fingers into it, trying to figure out what on earth it was.

"And on the first day, the lord said; let there be light!" The voice startling you as it seemed to be so close yet so far away, blinking rapidly as the light turned on in the room and you couldn't help but flinch and look down towards the table. Your head hurt with the rapid change of light, taking a moment to adjust as your fingers curled around the soft texture in your hand, keeping your head down, vision finally clearing.

To see the face of your co-worker staring back at you with the same slack jawed expression that the animatronics had. Your hand in his hair, shrieking and pulling your hand free, slipping and tumbling as the face followed and you watched in silent horror as the head bounced against the tile. Rolling to face away, the bloody, raw meat, bone and gristle that you could see inside of what was once a neck, looking down and realising that your shaking hands were covered in claret. Thick, clotting, the smell of hot pennies and raw red meat overwhelming, wondering how you didn't notice it before.

Footsteps, your eyes wide and transfixed on the rolled head of your co-worker as well polished black shoes came into view, kicking the head slightly and making you wince as you head the meaty thud it made when it connected. Bloody hands coming into view, one clutching a fire-axe near the head as the figure crouched. Looking up, you saw the pale, angular face. Star vest coated in red, splashed against his pale skin as the blue eyes sparkled. William looked positively elated, a predatory grin across his face as you looked him over, realising that the childish pin-badges were coated in the gore too.

"Oh doll, you shouldn't have come back here. But I'm not going to punish your curiosity, little lamb." The cool, calm British voice made you shiver, there was something dark and feral in the way he fixed you under his intense gaze, eyes lazily drawing down your now coated body with his own shiver of delight as he ran his tongue over his teeth.

"H-He's- He's..." You stammered and William scoffed, rolling his eyes as he reached out, placing the flat side of the bloody axe under your chin and tilting it up so you would look at him again.

"Come on doll, you can say the word." Cooing encouragingly as you trembled before him.

"Dead. You...Oh god you killed him!"

"That's right, here at Freddy's, I am god." A self satisfied smirk as he tilted the axe to make the blade almost brush against your skin. Heart pounding as you realised that this was probably the end. Murdered by your boss, covered in your co-workers blood.

"So let me show you what a merciful god I am, and allow you to take your first communion." Standing up and spreading his arms wide, smile never leaving his face as the single lightbulb above illuminated behind his tousled, greying hair and formed a bloody halo for William Afton.

Scammer pretending to be in Palestine v2

This post has been remade with better info! Please go to this one:

Got an ask from someone claiming to be in Palestine needing mutual aid? Unfortunately there is a scammer going around and it’s likely the ask you got sent is the same one being sent by multiple accounts who target users interacting with Palestine posts. These blogs use the text/images off a real fundraiser and then post it here pretending to be the person it’s made for. Their accounts are usually only a few days old and they don’t interact beyond the ask/follow. Lately they might make the link to their PayPal account in different colors or claim their GoFundMe is pending so you will assume the real one is theirs. They don’t have any GoFundMe’s set up. They steal from them. If you need proof of something being stolen, searching the text of their post in a search engine should pull up the source. If you know how to report PayPal accounts, please report those used by the scammers.

(Moved to new list)

Below is a growing list of fake/stolen names used across the accounts:

Nour Samar | maryline lucy | Fred Odhiambo | Jeff Owino | Valentine Nakuti | Conslata Obwanga | JACINTA SITATI | David Okoth | Martín Mutugi | Daudi Likuyani | William Ngonyo | Fred Agy | George Ochieng | BONFACE ODHIAMBO | Sila Keli | John Chacha | benson komen | Alvin Omondi | Jacinta Sitati | Daudi Likuyani | Noah Keter | Faith Joram | Rawan AbuMahady (any PayPal’s using this name are scammers who have stolen it off a real GoFundMe. The real person does not have a PayPal account that they post on tumblr.) | Asnet Wangila | Remmy Cheptau

Keep in mind this post isn’t saying all accounts asking for mutual aid in Palestine are scams. Rather, this post is meant to bring awareness of a scammer stealing money from those who really need it by pretending to be a person in Palestine. To report scams, use this:

Report -> Something else -> Illegal uses or Content -> Phishing

shy boys with unexpectedly good dick are great, don’t get me wrong… but i also love, love, LOVE dudes who are annoyingly cocky but still provide what they’re selling

like speak your truth, king