#( hungry dog’s logic: default ii. )

[slaughterlocked]

do you want to go out today? it's been ages since we went on a trip. / from jules!

A LOW HUM UNDER HIS BREATH, TEARING HIS EYES AWAY FROM THE NEWSPAPER IN HIS HANDS.  Automatically,  William stretches up, tugging Juliet down into his lap where he sits in his armchair,  pressing lips to her hair and letting his touch linger.  Still half - asleep,  his usual energy lacks:  his desire for her never does.  “ A trip? "

He hums,  the cogs in his mind beginning to turn.  Lately he’s been carried away with work  –  when is he not?  –  and feels a sting of regret that he’s been neglecting Jules more than he means to.   Where to take her to make up for it ?   Hire a babysitter,  or better yet,  leave Mike in charge.  He doubts Juliet would allow that,  but William privately thinks it might give the boy some maturity he’s sorely missing.   

“ I could book lunch at that steak place in town. ”   He offers idly, wrapping one arm around her waist and kissing once again in her hair.  “ Or a few nights at the hotel – oh, what was its name. ”   Fingers snap absent-mindedly,  and then pale blue eyes glance up to his wife.  “ The one next to Salt Lake City.  The fancy one.  I did say we ought to go back. ”

[slaughterlocked]

❛  i'm going to come if you keep doing that.  ❜ / from jules. more screeching.

“ OH, YOU ARE, ARE YOU ? ” William muses, mischievous, a low murmur near her ear. He knows exactly what he’s doing: it’s about time, he thinks, that he gets her back for all her teasing. And anyway - she deserves to be spoiled.

So he curls his fingers inside her again, stretching her out teasingly, only to pull away too quickly. Every movement is playful, but careful. Even teasing, he’s doting. “ Then you’re in for a long night, my darling. ”

[slaughterlocked]

symbol meme.🍬 — a bag of candy from the candy store. / aaand one more from liz too !

IT’S THEIR LITTLE SECRET: William has always adored little Liz. Once a week, when her mother says no, all Elizabeth has to do is turn to her father. William will pretend not to notice, though his daily mission that day becomes to get exactly what it is Liz has asked for.

This time, it’s candy: a little crinkly bag full of chocolate and sugar - coated delicacies, tied up with a pretty purple rabbit bow. The bags are usually reserved for the kids who choose them from the prize counter at one of several Fazbear franchises, but Liz doesn’t need to win to get a taste of them now. She’s already won her father’s heart.

He tosses it to her from her room door, a thin mischievous grin playing across his face. From his position, he presses his forefinger to his lips, wiggling his eyebrows mock - secretively: don’t tell your mother, the expression says.

“ The Bon - Bons are the best, ” is his only comment, “ if any of your brothers ask, tell them you’re my assistant taste - tester for the restaurant. ”

[slaughterlocked]

“ I’VE HAD WORSE. ” William protests, before another stabbing pain shoots through his arm. Perhaps not the best argument to make his case, but the light - headedness isn’t helping his sporadic train of thought. To ease her fears — or maybe simply out of genuine stupidity — he lifts his arm, currently springlocked to hell and back, and waggles his fingers at her playfully in a little wave. As if to say see, I’m okay, I’m alright! Never mind that he gets blood everywhere. “ I don’t want to deal with another damn visit from Health & Safety. I’ll just walk you through triggering the, ow, triggering the disengage mechanism, to get this off my arm. It’s easier than breathing, Jules. “

FROM HERE! / @florietiae

[slaughterlocked]

"can i just curl up on you for a minute?" / from jules!

UNFOUND MEME BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN SO INACTIVE ALL MY MEMES ARE OLD HDKD / always accepting !

INSTEAD OF VERBALISING HIS IMMEDIATE ‘YES’, William tugs her down onto the couch; a rare sight of him relaxing on a Saturday morning rather than immersing himself knee-deep in half-baked diner plans. “Are you alright, lovely?” He asks, stroking against soft skin and revelling not for the first time in the knowledge that Juliet is his, his, his. Shifting to a more upright position on the couch, his lips hover over her neckline, ready to bestow kisses generously; ready to pull away if she needs to vent or just simply be held instead. “Mmm. You should do this more often.” Whenever she’s not in his arms, he misses her more than he can possibly explain.

[slaughterlocked]

@ladyseidr whispered: 🏠 & henry / winter prompts!

HENRY’S HOUSE IS BATHED IN A GOLDEN GLOW FROM THE CRACKLING FIRE, AND WILLIAM’S EYES ARE PLEASANTLY HEAVY. The winter season is always so busy for the two of them, between the diner and the kids and everything in between — Elizabeth, only ten weeks old, wails constantly, and William loves her dearly but God, is he glad for the quiet of Henry’s arms for now. Well, really, to say he’s in Henry’s arms is not entirely true. His own arm snakes possessively around his friend, the other toying with strands of loose hair he’s always quietly enamored with. Tiredness hangs thick in the room, but it’s peaceful. Gentle. William could stay like this forever. Pause time and let this moment just stretch into eternity. Warmed and relaxed and happy with his position, the day, the company, life. “If you even think about moving,” he murmurs, voice sodden with groggy affection as he tightens his hold on Henry’s hand, “I’ll burn your house to the ground.” He won’t let Henry leave him cold. Not tonight. Tonight, William will bite back his pride, and let himself admit to wanting this. Wanting him. “I don’t intend to move any time soon.”

[slaughterlocked]

look at you! you're spilling coffee. / juliet is here to collect her overtired future husband fghjdfskj.

LACK OF SLEEP STARTERS!

“I WOULD SPILL MOUNTAINS OF COFFEE OVER THE WORLD FOR YOU,” SAYS WILLIAM, SOMEWHAT NONSENSICALLY; and then, registering that he has indeed spilt coffee all over the table and skin, yelps in horror, “oh, what the fuck.” So much for his priceless papers. Ignoring the fact that, ow, the coffee is hot, stinging his hand where it drips down the mug (a chipped but well-loved purple one that reads DON’T TALK TO ME BEFORE OR AFTER MY COFFEE), William scrambles for his documents, shaking them out vigorously away from the desk. He doesn’t even remember pouring himself coffee. He doesn’t even like coffee most days!

— Salvaging the majority of his work, almost toppling over his chair as he stumbles back from the dripping desk, William shoots Juliet a look that can only truly be described as baffled. He’d have looked just as bewildered if someone asked him two plus two: his brain feels like mush.

“Good morning,” he says brightly, checking his watch and realizing it’s suddenly the afternoon, “or— thereabouts. We didn’t have anything planned, did we?”

Another panic as the thought occurs to him. Startled brown eyes turn Juliet’s way, already apologetic and wide at the idea of forgetting a potential date or dinner. …They don’t have plans, do they? He raises his papers apologetically, soggy and saturated with cold black coffee: “I got into the flow of work, I’m afraid.” (The flow of coffee over his nice new desk goes tactfully unspoken about. So much for his efforts to seem suave in front of her..!)

[slaughterlocked]

it looks different somehow, but i can’t figure out what it is. / from jules!

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES DIALOGUE PROMPTS / always accepting!

WILLIAM’S BROW CRINKLES UPWARDS, SHOOTING A FAUX-MOURNFUL LOOK TO HIS SOON-TO-BE-FIANCEE. With a teasing lilt of sorrow in his voice, he shakes his head, removing his arm from her shoulders and stepping aside with a heavy sigh. “Look around,” he urges, impatient and eager, voice bristling with anticipation, “think carefully. What’s new, hmm? I know you know.”

The difference? Aside from the usual clutter of William’s side of the bedroom – animatronic blueprints tucked under his pillow; the odd shirt or sock draped haphazardly over a set of drawers or chair; the pile of books under his side of the bed collecting dust – there is a tiny little animatronic ballerina, tucked neatly on top of Jules’s nightstand. It carries a tiny wooden box, meant to hold a ring. If she opens it, she’ll find it empty.

When she turns to William, he’ll be on one knee, holding it out for her hopefully.

It’s not the most romantic of settings… Far from it. And yet his ego won’t allow him to do this in public. What would people think, if she turns him down? It could affect the business, his reputation, their lives together. He won’t allow for that. And so he gestures grandly around their bedroom (neater and tidier than usual, because he has some class) an excited little note in his voice. 

(He’s absolutely terrified, too, but his ego won’t let him admit that either.)

“Other than the fact I’ve actually cleaned,” he says, a little sheepishly, “what else is different?”

[slaughterlocked]

❛  you want to be a good boy for me, don't you?  ❜ from jules. screeching.

BREATH COMES IN SHARP BURSTS, HALF ON HIS WAY TO SEEING STARS. One hand is fisted so tightly in the bedsheets that he can feel his own fingers biting into his palm. Never been good at regulating his response to pleasure. “I— am very good,” he still has the braincells to respond, trying for nonchalance and ending with a groan of desire. His other hand is, with increasing fervor, stroking his own cock under Jules’s watchful gaze. Good boy. Christ. The words echo around his rapidly emptying mind. “I got— very good report cards— at school—” Okayokayokay, enough wisecracking, because he has to focus all his efforts on maintaining even the slightest bit of composure. The attention, the stimulation, the complete frustration that she’s only watching him for now, have William on the edge of coming embarrassingly quickly. “Jesus, Jules—” A rough exhale, eyelids fluttering, roaming over her form with adoring impatience: “You’re intoxicating.”

[slaughterlocked]

a kiss on the shoulder. ( Rosa )

EASY TO BLOCK OUT THE WORLD WITH HER LIPS ON HIS SKIN. William’s eyes fall shut, momentarily happy to bathe in the warmth that blooms like flowers in his stomach at her touch. Gentle, a few lingering minutes of content. Petals unfurling in late spring. When they’re parted, by any sort of distance, he misses her more than anything. Only like this, pressed flush against her body, does he feel at home. “ Bad day. ” He grumbles, expelling his worries into the air and letting them dissipate. Shoulders sink, losing tension and irritation as he soaks in Rosa’s presence. “ Had a headache since I left the damn house this morning. ”

She’s a better medicine than anyone could prescribe. William finds a smile twitching at his lips, weary but sincere. “ The doctor orders a night of relaxation with the love of my life. You wouldn’t so happen to be able to provide that, would you ? ”

[slaughterlocked]

Huh? What? I'm awake, I swear! ( from elizabeth )

LACK OF SLEEP STARTERS!

THE LOOK WILLIAM GIVES HIS DAUGHTER IS STERN, BUT UNDENIABLY FOND. Of course it is. She’s got him wrapped around her finger and even he won’t deny that. Lips trying to tug into a frown, but eyes glimmering too much with amusement, he says drolly, “I believe you. You’re definitely, one hundred percent awake. Not even tired in the slightest!” It seems his little trick for getting Elizabeth to bed is working: promising her that she only has to go to sleep when she gets tired, only to put on quiet music and read her story after story, is devilish and works like a charm. Suppressing his smug smile, William pets her hair gently, keeping his voice soft and quiet. His room is lit only by a nightlight — when she falls asleep, he’ll carry her to bed, tell her in the morning that a fairy had done magic to get her there. It’s magical moments like that he clings onto. Though she’s getting a little older, the idea of ruining those childhood beliefs is unbearable to him. So he leans across her, very carefully, and plucks another well-worn book from the pile, smoothing her hair as he says, “now, will we read The Princess and The Frog? Or are you feeling a little sleepy, hmm?”

[slaughterlocked]

[ tag drop 1: CANON VERSES. descriptions under cut. ]

( weaned on poison: default i. )

The making of a man. Spanning twenty two years from birth to college graduation, William’s childhood verse finds him resentful, ambitious, and uncertain about the kind of man he wants to be. While prickly and eccentric, William doesn’t hide his insecurity or true self as much as he wishes he could: the people that meet him in college see him transform into someone who has perfected the delicately crafted persona he begins creating during this time.

( hungry dog’s logic: default ii. )

The happiest years of William’s life, from the opening of the diner to the birthday party where it all goes wrong. MORE TBA.

( house haunted by shame: default iii. )

After Evan’s death and the incident with Suzie, it’s safe to say William spirals, just a little. From the bite of ‘83 to Elizabeth’s death (in ‘90 — though this is dependent obviously on who I’m writing with too!). William at his most unstable. MORE TBA.

( still left with his hands: default iv. )

Elizabeth’s death leaves William stricken with grief and the crumbling discovery that he can’t outrun the misfortune that is plaguing his family (mostly at his own hands). Left only with Michael, his need to fix everything, and the crippling loss of his family, it wouldn’t be entirely accurate to say William is MORE stable: but perhaps less likely to murder. Between ‘90 and ‘92 (or whenever Michael ‘dies’: again dependent on writing). MORE TBA.

( just to be alive: default v. )

Entirely alone, this last human verse spans the two years between Michael’s ‘death’ and William’s own springlock incident in ‘94. MORE TBA.

( first clear thought in years: default vi. )

Get springlocked idiot! Takes place any time in the thirty years before Springtrap is discovered (1994–2024). William’s memory and sense of. well, being ‘William’ drifts further and further as time progresses as his fury and agony grows. MORE TBA.

( tomb that won’t close: default vii. )

F.NAF 3 to F.NAF 6! More monster than man but still unbearably human, it has enough of itself left to recognise its son & old friend. That doesn’t stop it wanting to ruin everything in its path. MORE TBA.

( what is the difference between science and god?: default viii. )

Sometime before Elizabeth’s death, William infuses his remnant with a computer in another effort to prolong his lifespan. It results in Glitchtrap: a virus that both is and isn’t William. Glitchtrap, emerging thanks to the game it infuses with, has only one goal — revive himself properly to continue the work he started decades ago. See this post (link tba) for more Glitchtrap information. MORE TBA.

( obsessive replay: default ix. )

Ultimate Custom Night time!! After the events of F.NAF 6, William actually dies, and his soul is transported elsewhere. Turns out, hell is the neverending nightmare that a little kid dreams up for you. William suffers, screams, schemes, and looks for salvation at every corner. It never seems to come. More TBA.

( alive while a name is spoken: default x. )

Glitchtrap’s goal succeeds, and William is back in the land of the living! Trouble is, the virus hadn’t predicted its true self facing decades of torture at Cassidy���s hands… or its true self’s inability to fully adapt to the modern world. Torn between an inability to move forward and a desperate need to not look back, William is finally honest with himself, and tries to run from things one last time. Adopting a role at the Pizzaplex unassumingly and trying to live out the rest of his life in (relative peace), he naively hopes that everything is over. Of course, he's never been more sorely mistaken. MORE TBA.