Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spamton found a shit load of stumps in the ground, and only a couple of actual alive trees still remaining. "WHAT THE [CUNGADERO] IS THIS?" He said to himself, only to come across a weird looking orange dog with a mustache that had one of the most depressing expressions he has seen.
"HELLO [Valued Customer] BUT WHAT HAPPENED H3RE?"

"Some random Jackass who calls himself a fuckin number, is what," The Lorax says sadly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Spamton pauses, confused, though a sudden pit of worry, anger, and stress settles in his stomach as he thinks of who it might be. "NAMED AFTER A [numerical VALUE-] Onceler?" he asks, nervously.

"Yeah, something like that. Jackass is nearby still, I think he's nearby, the fucking twink.."

"Oh?" Spamton asked. "I'll go talk to him." He walked up to the house of the Onceler.

Chapter Text

The Onceler began moving through the trees, injecting them with poison to kill them off. He then looked to a stump, expecting to see the Lorax. Instead, he saw Spamton G. Spamton. "You wanna be a [BIG SHOT]? how about you care for the [ENVIROMENT], tumblr eboy sexyman?" The Onceler was SHOOKETH.

"Why are you HERE?!?!?" The Onceler cries, confused. "My family will KILL you," he says to his ex-lover, resisting the blush that was rising to his face, still flustered after all this time.

"Look, it's been a [LONG] time and the Lorax told me what you [BIG SHOT] did here. Never changed, did you?" He says, crossing his arms with a huff.

"I'm sorry-" The onceler starts, befor he was yanked down by the collar, Spamton's glasses tilted down so he was met with that dark gaze. He squeaks, going red, though notices the other's faint blush

“Uh, spamsy I feel uh I-I’m hot a-ah-“ Spamton did not care, his thin yet pronounced eyebrows jumped up and down and Onecy was found HOPELESS LOOK INTO HIS EYES AND U FINDT HAT HES HOPELESSSSSS!!!!

Then they have steaming hot sex [STEAMING HOT BIG SHOT GOD DAMN!!]

But then the Onceler realised, he cut down all the trees, no wood left.

It was no longer steaming hot, just a little Awkward and lacklustre. Ugh.

Chapter Text

Verosika wiped the [UNSPECIFIED ALCHOLOLIC DRINK] off of her lipstick stained lips. She sighed as she waited in the waiting room. She was finally going to get the help she needed, this is what her friends told her to do- she said to herself. Still she couldn’t wipe the feeling of shame off her face as she walked into the Alcoholics Anonymous room and dragged her face upwards to the group.

But then there sat her bitch ass dicked mouth annoying ass

"HELLO! [Valued customer]! YOU TOO [drink 4.99] JUICE?"
Verosika hated dealing with annoying asses like this, she just couldn't believe she had to be in rehab and now has to deal with people like this on a normal basis. It makes her want to drink again immediately. She instead decided to say, "Ugh look at disgusting oily ass hair like u smh"

"bro not [COOL]" Z spamton replies, shoving over her wheelchair.
"Ew, get away," she says, huffing.

Z kicks her on the floor, breaking her legs that were already broken by all 26 other spamtons before, continuing the family tradition.

"GOOD LUCK WALKIN NOW, BITCHASS HOE-" Z spamton cries over Veronoca's wails. He then stabs the incubus to death with a plastic spoon, Moxxie watching in the background to take notes on murder.

Chapter Text

Once(ler) upon a time, Hatsune Miku was doing a song and she had to be sponsored by the Thneed. However, she and the Onceler do not get along well. For one, the Onceler was Miku's childhood crush. Unfortunately, he rejected her to date himself instead smh. Either way, this sponsor could get her even bigger than before. And some biggering might be necessary...

The time had come for the Onceler to review the song, and... he wasn't pleased. "I'm sorry, what the actual THNEED is this?!?!", the Onceler cried out.
"I did what you asked!" Hatsune Miku replied, "I remixed your song!"
"THIS ISN'T MY SONG!!! IT SOUNDS NOTHING LIKE 'HOW BAD CAN I BE'!"
"Well you technically sang another song called 'Biggering', and I just had to remix it! It's much more better and darker than the actual song you used, not to mention less cringy and basically downright awful."

"YEAH SURE I SANG THAT, BUT WHO THE HELL IS WILL WOOD AND WHY DID YOU COMBINE LAPLACE'S ANGELS WITH IT???" Hatsune Miku began to cry real Jesus tears "You are so mean Onceler-chan! I just wanted you to see how much I love you by making a lovely remix but no! you had to go and throw my love in the trash!" and like that she ran out of the music studio to cry in the metaverse (not sponsored) "Oh god," the Onceler remorsed, "What have I done? I guess I really do know how ba-a-a-ad I can Be"

Chapter Text

A Spamton frowns at his younger sibling. "Cash money, I'm tired of this. Leave, pack your things, do what you must, but get out of this house."

"Ḇ̷̀̀-̶̞̘̔b̶̹̓u̵̯͗̈́ț̸͘ ̴̛̩͛b̴̢͕̊ŗ̴̙̈́͑o̷͈̯͑t̴͍̋ĥ̴̨͍̿e̸͉̊̍r̸̩̣̅,̶̢͌ ̴̻̈́w̷͉̕h̶͓̖̏ȩ̷͆̇r̵͈̽̎ȩ̸͎͘ ̴̩̔͝ẁ̷ͅi̶̡̥̐̌l̷͔̿l̸̥̩̀͌ ̶̧̻͝Î̷̪ͅ ̴̢̝͐͛l̶̡̄i̶͎̲̽͠v̵̟͗̕e̸̙̊-̸̹̅͜"

"I don't know, I don't care. Get out." He says. "Go pack, you've caused more issues than Z, and he's a murderer.

$ Spamton wept as he was kicked out of the house. He was not at fault, his parents ran out of letters, and he was the odd one out. Bullying, from his family, and from his peers, was the life he knew. And so he walked the streets, hoping for something good to come about. Then he saw it, Freddy Fazbears! They were hiring, they recently fired William Afton for... murder, or something.

"Hello, [EMPLOYER]", he greeted his future manager with a smile.

"I am not working here", said the giant eyeball that filled out most of the room. "I was only ordering a pizza, but business here is slow as fuck."

Chapter Text

Bill sighs, doing another line of coke. A shame it wasn't in drink form any mor-

wait, hold on! He hums, snapping his fingers and summoning a bottle of the drugged syrup. mmmm, delicious.

Until a random dude named Spamton snatches it, with the tall man behind him picking him up by the armpits and handing Bill his soda again. "Sorry about him, the onceler says."

"b-but the {BIG SHOT] drugs-" Spamton says.

"Here you go, kids, Bill replies, summoning their drinks.

Spamton and the Onceler kiss i don't fucking know you guys give me the worst ships there's nothing i can do.

Walter White walks in and kisses Bill Cipher. "You want meth?"

"Yes of course." Bill replies.

"good, JESSIE !!!! ITS TIME TO COOK!!!" yelled Mr White. " Gotcha Mr White your the one who knocks after all" spoke classic white boi jessie from breaking bad. "fucking finally its hard to hard to find good drug chemists when your a interdimensional space Dorito" spoke the inter dimensional space Dorito in a top hat.

Chapter Text

Afton had been caught. He killed someone again, and Long Long Man wasn't having it. "I saw you murder Jonker. I know what you did- and I can't be with you anymore- not after this. I should have listened to Jonker, and trust me, I'll warn the next one! I know you like Bill Cipher, I'LL TELL HIM EVERYTHING." Afton was struck to his knees. "No- please- no-!"

But Long Long man wasn't listening. "Jonker was right about you! He told me about you! I need to tell Bill EVERYTHING!"
"No- I'll do anything please! Don't do it!"
"It's too late, the world has to know! I don't stand by this!"
William Afton started thinking of a way to discredit Long Long Man.
"I'll tell them you did it"
"What?"

"Wouldn't be hard," William says calmly, dangerous smile growing on his face.

"W-what? How-"

"Jealous lover murders his partner's ex? Worried they might get back together? With a Man who's crashed a wedding, It wouldn't be hard," He explains. "With no disregard of the consequences, simply doing whatever."

"That wouldn't-"

"Do you realize the power I have at Fazbear's Pizzaria? Your reputation could be GONE, babe."

Chapter Text

Long Long Man was scared to do it, but he pushed forwards, going to Bill Cipher. "I know you want to be with him, but trust me, you don't. He's a murderer and a monster." "And I'm a god," Bill Replied. "he won't do that, trust me, or he'll suffer the consequences." Long Long Man wanted to object to Bill's reasoning, but he was too stressed. He needed to leave before Afton could ruin his life. "Don't come crying back to me." Long Long Man responds.

"look man im a fucking god" Bill stated plainly "infinite power could be yours my guy ... i miss my wife Long Long man this isnt over i'll be back".

Merely a year later he learned to regret those words.

Afton really was a monster, after all.

"We could CLEANSE THIS FORSAKEN WORLD, THIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE, we could START OVER AND SHAPE IT TO OUR WILL-"

"William, no, no that's to far-"

"Awe, c'mon Corn Chip... I know it isn't for you~"

"Yes. YES IT IS, Willam."

"But you've tortured kids, just like me- we have so much in common- How is it-"

"Those were just some stupid kids, not AN ENTIRE FUCKING UNIVERSE. This is WAY TOO FUCKING FAR, WILL."

Chapter Text

Willam Afton is stuck in traffic, because two trucks get into an 'accident" right? WRONG nah fam theses truck they're having

sex and his muscles involuntarily flex

Fucking trucks and their fucking hot, steamy, sexy truck sex. God damn it.

He sighs, ramming his car into them, killing the trucks.

The End <3

SIKE, HOE, CAUSE A TRUCK GETS UP.

William Afton gets ran over, only for his muscles to involuntarily flex, for the passion was more than he could withstand and he fucking DIES.

Chapter Text

Spamton sighs, looking to the other. "Hey, [brOtHer] i have an idea"

B looks over, setting his book in his lap. "What is it dude? You're stuttering or whatever again."

Spamton G grins even wider. " Let's go to the [KROMER] park, brother." He says, hiding the razor blade behind his back.

B crys in joy/agony. "OH HECK YES DUDE!!!!"

Spamton stands up slowly, hiding the blade still, as the two walk to the park.

B looks around, thinking to himself. "This isn't the park dude, its not supposed to be made of concrete."

Spamton grins evilly, pulling the razor blade out from behind him. "I know this [Ain't] the park... ITS MY RITUAL ROOM."

B screams. Spamton, now covered in blood says, "AH YES! [Hyperlink Blocked] HAS BEEN ACHIEVED!

He thought he was going to ascend up to [HEAVEN] but instead was dragged down to Hell, while he screamed about kromer and strings. RIP.

Chapter Text

The place was filthy. Grime encrusted walls, machines in disrepair. Mr. Clean had never gotten called for a job this bad, but dammit, clean was his name and clean was his game. When the wretched man in the springlock activated suit that could be triggered by the smallest amount of water (say, from a cleaning bucket, hypothetically) walked by, Mr Clean resisted the urge to gag.

"Wot you clown-?" William Afton said in his funny british accent that many people online thirsted for hours for. Mr Clean ordered Afton to take off the suit, it being so musty and gross. It needed a good clean. "At least take me to dinner first-" Afton spoke, smoother. It got to Mr. Clean in a way that he hadn't felt before. Heat rushed to his cheeks. "Awe- a bit flustered are ya?" Afton teased the bald man, resisting the urge to slap the baldness. Afton took off the spring bonnie head and got close to Mr. Clean.

"Let me show you how a real man does this", Mr Clean whispered into his ear seducingly, before strippinjg off the rest of Aftons suit. "They don't call me Meister Proper for no reason." HE flung himself over the nearest washing machine and bent over to put the suit inside, while Afton was watching him from behind.
"Now, where were we?", he asked, when suddenly Aftons phone went off. "Well, it was noice to have met you" he said and went to work.

Chapter Text

Mr Clean left the Freddy's location, after agreeing to a date with William Afton on that Friday. Bill Cipher appeared in front of Mr. Clean. "Are you sure you want to date that guy?" Bill asked. "You never know the monster he could, and will become. That guy is trouble..." Mr Clean ignored Bill, getting into his 2003 Toyota Corolla (Colour: Silver).

On Friday, he met up with Afton, Eating at a smallish and clean, Deli.

"You made it!" William says, smiling as they're led to a booth. How was your week, he asked, before looking at his menu.

"Alright, got a lot of cleaning done." He says, confused by Bill Cipher's warning. This guy seemed relatively normal so far, anyway. What did he mean by a dangerous monster?

"So did I." William answered. "What do you mean?", Mr CLean asked, as the last time he had seen William he was wearing the dirtiest fucking fur suit ever. "Oh, the usual stuff when you work at a fast food restaurant", William answered and laughed. "We had a lot of families visiting this week"

Chapter Text

"William, I just can't do this anymore", Mr. Clean said. He had finally brought up the courage to talk to Afton directly after the past few weeks of dating. "Wot? What do you mean?", Afton asked, surprised that anyone would ever not want to deal with him anymore.
"This thing between us, this 'relationship', if you can call it that. William I am breaking up with you", Clean explained.
"Why?", Afton asked. "It's been going great. You get stuck in the washing machine and I-"
"William, it's over! You are a disgusting person!"

"But-"

"NO, William. We can't keep doing this. YOU can't keep doing this- Use people and then toss them aside like a used Clorox wipe."

"And there you go again with your cleaning analogies- ALWAYS something fuckin' kinky about the cleaning supplies"

"You know what? I think Bill was right."

William pauses, silent with a startled expression on his face. "How did you-"

"How did I know? Hard not to when an all-mighty being warns you himself."

Afton winced. "I used to be ON TOP OF THE WORLD with Bill, I HAD EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED, then he figured out what I really wanted to do. I wanted to wipe the world clean of these scumbags and start anew- but he stopped me."

Mr Clean was shocked. "Well you're not going to get that from me, nor anyone with more than one braincell. Get out of my house."

And Afton left, adding another name to his ever-growing hit list. He'd make Mr Clean and Bill Cipher pay. If he can stay alive for long enough to do it.

Chapter Text

"I think you are wrong about William", Flo told MR. Clean sternly. "He is a really nice guy and not 'trouble' as you claimed."
"No, Flo, you don't understand", Clean told her. "I know he can be charming at first", in his mind, he let the steamy encounter he had with Afton back in the run down, downright gross restaurant, "but under the facade..."

Flo could care less. "He means the world to me, I don't see him ever being this "monster" you seem to call him."
Mr Clean shook his head. "Don't come crying to me later." He walked away. He knew what he needed to do, he needed to kill Afton before Afton hurt more people like him.

Mr. Clean pauses when something cold and sharp touches his neck, freezing.

"Now now, why are we in a rush? You had plenty of time to talk about William, so why run off so quick?" Flo asks quietly, a dangerous tone in her voice.

"I- I have a mess to clean up..."

"Ohhhhh, sure- Missing an appointment? Boo fucking hoo." Flo says, humming as she walks in front of him, tapping the blade against his shoulder. "Mr. Clean missing a job... howwwwww dramatic- no no, you're planning something, aren't you?"

Chapter Text

Flo was just about to head out on a first date with William Afton, but she ran into Mr. Clean, who overheard that this was happening, from Bill Cipher. "I wouldn't go out with Afton, he's trouble, Flo, you don't want to get yourself into that... I promise you, I've been there." Flo didn't listen to Mr Clean, as Mr. Clean hadn't listened to Bill Cipher before.

"Come on, bald guy", she had laughed into his clean, hairless face. "How bad can he possibly be? He's not the Onceler!"
Afton was not a bad guy, Flo thought while staring into his eyes dreamingly. He had a stable job and he didn't strike her as weirder than anyone else she had encountered in the last week alone.
There was a feeling of belonging there, when they talked. Like he was her soulmate.

Flo smiles at the idea, though grits her teeth. This... Mr. Clean acted like William was demented, which just wasn't true-

And besides, he hurt William, which was unacceptable. "You know, why act like we're the monsters? Everyone has done at least ONE reallyyyyyyyyy fucked up thing in their lives, you're no saint." She says, humming as she fiddles with a knife Afton hands her, completely missing his pleading and pained look that flashed along his face while doing so.

Afton knew this was going too far. Even for him.

Chapter Text

Mike Wazowski had been fired from his job at the fabolous monster inc, because they weren't paying dental and he had a surprising amount of teeth that were beginning to rot. Additionally, his life had just generally been falling apart around him ever since he had grown a second eye and lost his iconic look.

Flo showed up, along with her unlovable (and unbearable, and cheating, (but she didn't know that yet)) sidekick and boyfriend, William Afton. "Would you like to sign up for Progressive?" She smiled, in a sadistic way. Afton sharpens a knife behind her.

"Uh- actually, that might be nice..." He says, though swallows at the screech of metal against metal.

"Oh, Great! You can put the knife away, sweetheart," She says, touching a hand to Afton's elbow.

He sighs in relief when the man does so, relaxing. "So, what about this insurance offer?" He asks. "My Job fired me because they didn't cover me well in terms of benefits-"

"Which isn't a problem with Progressive insurance! All those cavities of yours, fixed up without anything out of pocket!"

"How did you-" The knife screams against stone again at his question.

"Now, now, it's alright, sweetie," Flo comforts to Afton.

Chapter Text

Spamton pauses when he pushes open the door, stepping inside. It was a mess- cairs upended, things knocked down, his papers scattered everywhere as though gone through. "Oncey?" he calls, concerned. He just went out shopping for a few hours-

Spamton jumps when his phone rings, dropping his coffee, though is uncaring of how the now half-warm beverage splashed onto the ground and his shoes. Unknown caller...

He answers anyway.
{My, my, Mr. Spamton. Seems you've finally found something is wrong...}

Spamton was confused... Who was this? "Who are you, and [WHAT] have you done?" {Oh, it's Flo, from Progressive! He didn't sign up.} Spamton knew what he had to do. He grabbed a gun from The Onceler's office. "You ordered [HELL] for [4.99]."

The Onceler was meanwhile sitting in a dark basement somewhere beneath a coffe shop (not the netherland ones)
"Well, hopefully your friend will make better decisions than you and sign up for Progressive", Flo laughed, while her boytoy was sharpening a knive next to her. "Or else your both gonna have a rather bad time."
Onceler sighed. Why did things like this always happen to him?
If he had just not destroyed that whole fucking forest, he would have been able to hide from this bith behind a tree ot something. LLuckily for him, Spamton would soon be here to save him.

Chapter Text

Spamton sighs as he wanders a half-destroyed landscape, hand brushing over a stump. This Lorax guy was right about one thing, at least, whoever did this certainly was taking down tree by tree, uncaring of anything at all.

Sounded about right, if the Lorax was truly talking about the Onceler, even if it's been years since they've separated.

"Spamton..? What are you DOING HERE?"

There he was. The ruthless heartbreaker and more importantly, blatant liar. Letting himself be abducted by that women - his own fucking cousin - and letting Spamton do all the work to safe him from her, as if they weren't related.
Not just that, he had kept silent about this during their whole relationship, like it didn't even matter.
Because it didn't to him. Of course it didn't!

Spamton looked at the Onceler with disgust. "You're a fucking [MONSTER]." He shook his head. "You couldn't care less about anything. Not the [ENVIROMENT] or even [ME]. You're [HEARTLESS]." The Onceler sure *acted* like he was taken aback, but he wasn't. He KNEW what he was doing, and that it hurt the person he used to get up in the world in the first place, because god knows he couldn't do it himself. "I'm not sorry." He mumbled.

Chapter Text

"What are you DOING here?"
Spamton huffs, crossing his arms, trademark shades- cracked from an incident with a crazy insurance bitch years ago, and battered from everyday life- perched on his nose, tilted dow slightly.

"The lorax of all people told me about what you've been doing."

"But- my family will kill you if they know you're here-"

"What do you mean [FAMILIAL RELATIONS]?"

Spamton looked to the Onceler, the Onceler did not know how to respond. He didn't want Spamton to know that Flo was his aunt. However, he had to tell. "Flo will kill you... she's my aunt." Onceler said.

"WHAT? THAT CRAZY [Hoochi Mama] IS YOUR AUNT?!" Spamton had gotten somewhat frustrated by this revelation, he cannot believe someone like this twink could be related to a crazy bitch like her.
"Yes... Believe me I hate her too but I am unfortunately related to her." The Onceler honestly felt very uncomfortable even talking about her.
insert a good ending DUBIOUS HELP ME HELP ME I CANT WRITE UGH

Chapter Text

"Now listen here, Mr.! It's not like I am having a free day today! My sales have been going down for some time now and guess what, they were at an all time low when you left me to rot last week - figuratively of course, but who knows if you won't happen to actually rot if you're keeping this up."
Flo had slowly had enough of her new boyfriend.
"So you better help me get people to sign up today."

He was really getting sick of this crazy bitch, he couldn't decide who exactly was more insane between her and himself, but he knew she was getting boring real quick. He decided that for now, it was best to play into helping her get more people to sign up while he gets a second job and perhaps eventually find someone new and less boring.

Cause FUCK, this bitch was annoying as shit.

She keeps getting people to sign up that day, so he participates-
however begrudgingly-
sharpening his knife all the while she chats their ears off.

Idly, he notices a help wanted sign, snagging a picture.
Gay bars?

Yeah, that definitely won't be boring.

Chapter Text

William Afton had been with Flo for 8 months, but he was bored to death by her. He met someone that made him feel complete, in a way. He didn't know how to break it to Flo, so he just didn't. But to kill her-? Maybe that would just be easier. And so he hunted down who he thought to be Flo.

"Okay, bitch, I've dealt with this long enough." He had stumbled out of the gay bar that the cutie with the crawat went to regularily and just so happened to see his wife standing outside of it.
Unfortunately for her, he was kinda drunk and turned on by that hot attourney.
"Wait what?" His wife had screeched, when he had dragged her intot

Well, shit.

Chapter Text

Afton hit who he thought to be Flo as hard as he could, after walking away from the bar far enough so he wouldn't be reported to the police. He was happy that he could finally be with whom he loved most, and out of Flo's sadistic life. Gone were the days of torture and progressive. He'd try to start anew. Little did he know what the one he killed was not Flo, but Flo's twin sister, Blo.

William continued on anyways, heading back to Mile's house, half drunk just like his lover.

He felt- well, like, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, akin to as though the world had been lifted from Atlas's back. He smiles, sprawled on Mile's couch now, sipping on another drink. She was- she was finally gone-

The bitch that was crazier than him out of his and everyone else's lives.
Thank fuck.

"William, what are you doing on my couch? And are you drunk?"
Miles stood in the doorway, surprised. "No, wait. More importantly, how did you get in here?"
He stopped in his tracks, when he turned the lights on. "IS THAT BLOOD?" He asked, almost screeching.
"Dammit, now I have to ask that Clean-guy to clean my new couch again! DO you know how expensive that was the last time?"
"Miles!", Afton greeted him, slurring slightly "We should marry!"

Chapter Text

When Flo realized that William Afton disappeared, she was incredibly worried. And Lonely. Which has caused her to spend years looking for him, looking for any leads she could know about his whereabouts and what happened to him, wondering who took him from her.

"Shit, where could he be"

Flo soon found out, he was with another man, who's name was Miles Edgeworth. She knew Afton couldn't have cheated, Afton was obviously taken from her. Edgeworth was EVIL for this. She put in her application for Dollar Tree, she'd kill Edgeworth, all it took was some planning.

Chapter Text

Flo (Progressive) had only recently started talking to her twin sister again after that bitch had not only stolen her boyfriend and her job at another insurance company, but also killed their parents. Looking back, Flo (Progressive) wasn't mad at that anymore, as she was not a newbie to the act of killing herself anymore. She and her boyfriend were actually making quite the fortune with it. Today, her sister would come to visit her, while her boyfriend was out

Again. He said it was for his job, which, okay- extra money is always nice, he's so caring. [no he's cheating on you girl]

She hums, opening the door when there's a knock. "Hey Blo," She says. "Come on in."

Her sister smiles, walking in the house. "Oh, what a nice home you have," she says, looking around, before walking over to a picture. "Oh, is this your boyfriend? what's his name, Afto?"

"William Afton, She quickly corects."\

"Ah, he looks, familiar-- I think I saw him out once? No. It couldn't have been him.... he looked similar, but he was gay- not the same guy, sorry---" Blo said.

Flo (Progressive) sat down. "He's out getting more money currently- also, I'm engaged to him now!"

Blo smiled, happy for her sister. "I'm proud. You'll invite me to your wedding, right?"

"Of course."

-----Time Skip-----

Flo (Progressive) heard the news, her sister was dead, killed by her fiance, no less. That was hard news to hear for her. Afton killed her sister? For what? Then Flo looked at Afton's instagram. He's with.... another man?

Chapter Text

Spamton withholds a gasp, the sound catching in his throat as he Sees William Afton crouched over the Onceler, the latter trying to shove him away, though failing, because he just isn't strong enough.

That's not the issue though.

The issue is that William has a fucking knife, at the Onceler's throat.

And then that he digs the blade in.

Spamton ended up acting like a feral dog with rabies soon after seeing his hubby fucking die in front of him. He practically tried attacking William Afton and getting his bloody knife.

........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ how is this rated all ages?

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth and William Afton were getting married, but none of the other tumblr sexymen wanted to spend half a million on decorations, so they stopped at Dollar Tree, the $1.25 EMPORIUM where you can get glow sticks, glow wands, glow glasses, glow toilets, glow piss, and their favorite, coloring books featuring off-brand Disney princesses.

Soon the other tumblr sexymen were strewn around different sections of the store. Meanwhile Miles and William were left to their own devices, going through the isles hand in hand while searching for the gayest decor possible to flip off the nearest homophobic church with, which wasn't hard given the amount of colourful everything.
But their plans were soon destroyed by William Afton himself.

He walks up to an employee, tapping them on the shoulder.

"Hi, where's your rainbow-" William gasps when the employee turns, shocked to find Flo, his ex, who was just as insane as he was, working in a dollar tree.

"My rainbow? Oh, I don't know, he ran off with some twink, ripping my ENTIRE world apart." She says, staring him down.

She suddenly grabs a gun from the rack (wtf a gun for sale at dollar tree for [4.99] instead of 1.25!?!?) and levels it at Aftons head, a crazed look in her eyes.

Before she turned it to Miles. "YOU. YOU TOOK MY EVERYTHING FROM ME-" She screeches at him, stepping closer as though to guarentee her a

Chapter Text

The dollar tree went silent as Afton went up to Flo. "It was my fault- not Edgeworth's- I... I cheated on you, Flo... he didn't take me from you, I left you." They gasped as Flo moved the gun over to point at Afton. "Get out. Of my life. Run." Is all Flo could say. And so Afton and Edgeworth ran, they ran as fast as they could, to Target.

Which was a quite ironic choice, looking back, but neither of them cared as they dashed through the isles like birds in a shooting range. "So was anyone gonna tell me you had a crazy sidechick or did I have to find out myself?" Edgeworth asked from inside a cupboard he hid in. "But she was dead!" Afton yelled. "I killed her myself!" Edgewoth went pale

"Well clearly not, considering SHE'S FUCKING CHASING US-" He argues.

"I watched her die, no pulse, no nothing, body dissolved and all. I had too, or else THIS would happen," William argues due to his fiance's clear distress.

"Why couldn't you have just BROKEN UP WITH HER-" Miles asks desperately, swerving into the crafts isle.

"She fucking killed her fiance for me, how the FUCK am I mean to do that?"

"Well now psycho bitch is gonna kill MINE," He replies, wincing at the bang he heard.

The bulled only punctured some cereal boxes though, stoped with the back of the freezer.

Chapter Text

William Afton and Miles Edgeworth are now happily married, thanks to their friend who was an ordained minister AND a pastafanarian, Papa Louie. That man has more restaurants than any sane person should have. Afton and Edgeworth were now taking a vacation, far away from everything they knew. They wanted OUT.

Afton just went into the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth for the first time in eternity, because Edgeworth told him so (that man was really bringing out his best side, even if it was still shit), when he saw someone already standing in the bathroom. "Who are you and what are you doing here?", he screamed at the stranger, who had snuck into his hotel. Surprisingly, they answered. "William, I am your conscious." He laughed. "Well, probably not, actually. Seeing how many people you murdered you don't have one. Just like your ex didn't have a soul, probably. And no heart because she gave it to you.

Before, of course, you just ripped it out and tossed it in the trash, just like the one before that would probably say."

"Don't bring-"

"Don't bring who into this? One of your countless, faceless, ex's? C'mon now, you can't just act like that an all-powerful being of chaos fearing FOR anyone in a relationship with you is no big deal. He never felt fear before that."

"Why should I give a shit about that potato chi- I have Miles, now-"

"You called him a dorito, dumbass. C'mon, you remember- And how long will Edgeworth last before he's just another grain of sand? If you can't remember a GOD, how will you with him?"

Chapter Text

William Afton was driving for his life for probably the thousandth time after murdering another one of his partners. However while trying to drive away as quick as possible he noticed there were Two Trucks causing traffic in the road. Or so he thought, originally.

Took him a minute to realize those Two Trucks were having sex in the street. This fact started to piss him off so much he decided to say, "Fuck it" and run into them with his vehicle.

He aggressively backs up and hits them again and again, cause fuck their body confidence, lack of relationship issues, and open lifestyles.

Well, until his car engine sputters, and turns off, Two Very Very Angry Trucks glaring at him.

Well, Shitballs- Suck his dick and call him daddy, he thinks, as one turns, revving their engine and lining up to hit his door.

And then it all goes dark with the impact, nothing but a sickening crunch being the last thing in his ears.

Fuck, everything hurts- he things, slowly returning to consiencncedvbfjkzxb.

William Afton woke up in the hospital, with Edgeworth by his side. "Dammit- I could have died there-"

Then the two trucks ran into the hospital, breaking the hospital down to rubble.

Chapter Text

Bill sighs, looking at the clock. "Damnit, where is that guy?" he asks, looking around the room, all the other Afton-exes there shrugging. "Oh-ho wait, I can just check- I'll be right back."

He ends up in an alleyway, and is thoroughly confused for a moment, well, unto hie sees a pale hand and a battered turtleneck sleeve peeking over the edge.
...Man, Spamton was STONED, wasn't he...?

Spamton stood up, then fell back on his face, cracking his [4.99] glasses. Bill went up to Spamton. "Are you-- okay?" Spamton just started fucking sobbing. "NO- [BIG SHOT] DO I LOOK OKAY TO YOU?!" Bill backed up a bit, giving Spamton some space.

"Wow, looks like we have an actual dumsterfire here", Bill laughed and the dumpster behind him caught fire. "Well, seems like I have a firehazard to take care of, buddy. Seems like I can't take care of your emotional needs right now." He was about to fuck off, when Spamtons crying got louder.
"O my god, what is it with all you needy fuckers, always wanting someone to take you into their arms and get you to bed." Bill sighed.

Chapter Text

William sighs as he wrestles the mop away into the cluttered closet. Fuck, he really needed to reorganize this thing- nearly cursing when he knocks the broom over, he sighs, picking it up to tuck it away.

He pauses, however, when he hears a squeak of shoes against tile, and a loud thump, Miles practically screaming his own retired trademark of "Well shiTBALLS, SUCK MY DICK AND CALL ME DADDY- fUCk, WILL, WARN ME WHEN YOU MOP THE KITCHEN-"

When the fuck did he learn that saying? Will lets out a small snort as he puts the broom away, calling back. "YOU ALRIGHT?"

"No- I am in PAIN-"
"Also when did you learn that?!"

"No clue, I heard you saying it once back at the bar-"

Well this got awkward.

Chapter Text

Spamton sighs, slouched in his chair of the meeting room. "What [MOMENT IN TIME] i-is it?" he asks wearily. He was a mess, to the point where Bill had to drag him into his house before the dude overdosed because he was left alone for over 20 minutes.

"No-no don't tell-" Bill starts.

Long long man checks his watch. "12:31-"

Spamton pauses mid-line. "N-no_" He sobs, face hitting the line of powder on the table"

"Oh great, he's back to sobbing. He's now going to try to do MORE."
And more he did. Bill just facepalmed, Long Long Man just looked anywhere else but Spamton awkwardly, and Spamton just has his face completely on the table snorting his drugs.

"GOD damn it! I'd put you back in rehab if I didn't know any better, for FUCKS sake the first one I sent you in you broke some random celebrity's legs! No matter what it seemed you kept getting your hands on whatever you could get anyway!"

"Why not put him into a big cage and we're done?", someone from the big crowd of Aftons ex's asked.
"And you don't think I've tried that? Bastard chewed through the fucking metal bars. And before someone asks why he's even here when he doesn't pose any addition to our team, don't! I am done answering your annoying af questions."
"Umm, Bill, aren't you like god or something? Can't you just, I don't know, destroy all drugs?"
"And what am I supposed to do then?"

Chapter Text

Mr Clean ran off into the woods, with Afton following right behind him. Afton quickly caught up to Mr. Clean, tackling him. Afton raised his knife. "This ends tonight." Afton smirked. He brought down the knife, stabbing Mr. Clean in the heart. Afton stood up, leaving Mr. Clean's body out in the open, with a forged note on the side.

"Okay, where is that fucker?", Flo screamed into her phone.

Flo screamed into her phone, getting more loud and pissed off. Meanwhile, Mr. Clean was just slowly bleeding to death, very painfully. Rest in pieces bald guy lmao

Chapter Text

"Today is a dark day, Anto-Afton-Nation", Bill Cipher announced.
"Our dear bald friend, Mr. Jürgen Hans-Peter Proper, known as Mr. Clean has died", he said and everyone gasped, absolutely shocketh, "of suicide", Bill finished the sentence. The shock in the audience turned into confusion.
"Which we know because of the forged suicide note found next to him. Ooops, now I spoiled the big plot twist! Anyways, we all know that he was actually killed by our deary William Afton himself!"

Flo stood up. "LETS GO AFTER HIM!" the others stood up and cheered. Bill sighed. "No. We can't. He killed one of us. We need backup..."

Spamton huffs from his stool in the corner. "When will we [EVER] go after-"

Bill sighs. "No, Spamton, shut up, drink your fucking water. I gave that ding-dang glass to you 10 minutes ago and you've had not a sip."

Spamton narrows his eyes behind battered, smashed, and twisted glasses, ones he refused to get rid of. Not like they helped, and they looked like shit, but the dude has a breakdown if they go missing even for a minute or two.

Bill figured out getting rid of those damn things is not worth the struggle.

Either way, Spamton takes a sip, glaring at him all the while. "Now, [ROUGHLY HOW SOON] will we get rid of him?" He asks.

"Dr

Chapter Text

Afton killed another person. Papa Louie, who was friends with Afton. Afton didn't want to kill him, but he witnessed Mr Clean's murder. It had to be done. Papa Louie would have called the police on Afton if he wasn't killed. So Afton stabbed Papa Louie.

Papa Louie struggles, knife wedged between his ribs excruciatingly. "W-why would you-a d-do this to-a me?" He barely stutters. "Y-you're a-married under-a Pastafanarian-a laws..." He breathes, eyes going dim.

Afton hums, ripping the knife from his chest with a fleshy squelch. "Oh well," He says, wiping the blade clean with his hand, uncaring of how it bites into his palm slightly. "Buh-bye, Louie! So FUCKIN LONG-"

Papa Louie is left bleeding to death very slowly. AND VERY PAINFULLY.
'AHHHH!" he screams.

While bleeding somewhere not too far from Mr. Clean's corpse, he just hears what sounds to be a voice screaming into the phone of Mr. Clean.

Then he passed away.

Chapter Text

Mr. Clean sat down on a cloud in heaven. "Afton is a dick. Someone should chop it off."

"That's-ia a fair-ia summary." Louie says, drinking some homemade pasta sauce from a cup.

"What are you even drinking...?"

"Fermented tomato sauce. Takes theee-a edge off. You should-ia try it," He offers, passing a cup to Mr Clean.

And holy fuck, he was hesitant at first, but this shit is AMAZING.

He ends up taking a giant swig of it. Man, that's good!

"Wait, I thought I died? Where are we?"
'We ar-are in Pasta Heaven! Look! You can see Pasta God"
Mr. Clean wasn't sure if he should feel terrified seeing that giant pasta monster-looking creature, it seemed to have been made entirely out of spagoot.

Chapter Text

Bill Cipher gets ready to talk to the Anti-Afton Army again about a situation that he knows is going to give them deja vu.

"SO you all remember about Mr. Clean dying? Well I got some more news related to that, today Long Long Man made me aware that apparently Papa Louie's corpse was found not too far from Mr. Clean's body. Let us hope he's doing well in Pasta Heaven."

Several cried. "Oh, dear old Papa Louie. I remember him being our Pastafanarian Pastor at mine and Aftons wedding a few years ago!", someone sobbed. "Yes, mine too", another made known.
"Damn that cheating fuck Afton. If he keeps this up, we're all gonna be dead before we even find out where he lives!"
"Oh, I know where he lives", Bill said.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?" and various other voices cry, Spamton at this point passed out, head on the table. At least it was clean, this time.

"Because like, I didn't- WE NEED A PLAN BEFORE WE'RE ALL GUN-HO, PEOPLE."

Chapter Text

"So, since you all brought us together", the Long Long man started the meeting, "what is your plan, Mr. Cipher."
"So you all want that bastard dead, am I right? Well, sadly, after that Dollar Tree debacle where that fucker ran off with some twink we lost one of our most trusted - and craziest, but ignore that part - ally. The Progressive bitch!"
"So, we're gonna to get her out of jail and I have just the man for this:

SPAMTON, we need you to do your job and crawl in there and get her out!"

Spamton, not paying any attention, has fallen asleep on a table. Long Long Man had to go over to him and elbow him in the side to wake him up.

"HUH? WH-WHAT IS IT [Valued Customers]?" He says, startled away and face covered in a white powder.
"SPAMTON! WE NEED YOU TO GET FLO OUT OF PRISON!"
"WHY ME?"
"BECAUSE YOU'RE SMALL ENOUGH TO GET IN THERE WITHOUT ANYONE NOTICING!"
Spamton being forced to actually have to accept his fate of getting off drugs longer than 30 minutes, does it.

Spamton crawls into prison, freeing Flo. They then burned down the prison, letting other inmates free.
Flo joined the Anti-Afton Army, noting that it's the only thing that will keep her safe.

Chapter Text

Flo sat on her prison bench, bored. She had just carved another scratch into the wall, marking her [hyperlink blocked] day in jail. This was the longest she had ever been locked away. Certaily because of her clean record and bright smile which just caused police officers to not care.
Suddenly, she heard a scratching in the walls. Those damn rats, she thought, before something crashed through the vents above her.
"YOU?", she screamed, but Spamtons shocked "YOU?" was even louder.

Spamton stood up, looking around him. "Oh- [PRISON]?" Flo shook her head. "What are you here for?"

"I think it's to [BREAK YOU OUT]."

What she did not expect was to end up crawling into the vents with him to get out of there. But that sadly wasn't all he had to do, apparently they couldn't get out that way so Spamton decided to lowkey pull a JD and blow up the side of a wall that kept prisoners in.
"Shouldn't we be worried about possibly everyone else escaping and possibly causing a riot? Like, didn't you just cause us to get attention doing this?"
Spamton looked confused when running out of there, turned to her and said,
"WORRIED ABOUT WHAT [Valued Customer]? IT'S NOT LIKE I JUST BLEW UP A [4.99] WALL OR SOMETHING!"
This was when she realized he most definitely still found a way to get drugs on him to keep himself high this entire time.

A variable no one expected or knew about was that maybe one of the escaped prisoners would be his younger brother, however.

Chapter Text

"So basically, everythings gone to shit in the time I was in jail,huh?" Flo looked around the depressing bar backroom, their run-down meeting spot. "This is just sad, especially considering our noble cause. How did you manage to fuck up this hard Bill?" She mustered an old and grimy chair with chewed gum sticking to it. Sadly, CLean wasn't around anymore to clean this hellhole up.
"Oh, lick it up, bitch! Lick it up." Bill told her, rolling his eye. "We got you out of jail, now do your job."

She huffs. "And what is that, exactly?"

"Cleanup this hellhole. Clean's not here, so you can make yourself useful. Also, do try to not scuff the floors."

"You can't make me do that! I am insurance worker, not a janitor!"
"Yes I can."
Flo sighed, then came up with an idea.
"Wait, you're basically a god right?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Can't you just snap your fingers and make this cleaner?"
Bill just stood there, then blinked very slowly for a good moment, realizing how dumb he is. He sighed, snapping his fingers.

When the room got cleaner, Flo just looked at him and said,
"Isn't there lot's of things you can do? I mean out of everyone I would think you'd know what you can do with your powers."
"Yeah, but when you see all like I do you become scatter-brained."

It was at this moment Flo may have realized that their leader is a giant dumbass.

Chapter Text

Dawn of the final day, 24 hours remain until The Afton Cataclysm.......

Afton was preparing. He knew about the attack. He and Edgeworth were going to make it through somehow. Though what Afton didn't know, was that Edgeworth had other plans. The army arrived, guns out. Afton wouldn't let them take him and Edgeworth alive or dead.

"Their here, Miles." Afton said, not a trace of fear in his voice, while he spied through the curtains. "But we're gonna make it."
"No", Edgeworth finally said. Afton spun around, shocked to see a gun pointed at him.
"Miles, what do you mean?"
"I'm gonna make it", Edgeworth said. "But I'm not sure if you will."
"Miles?" Afton asked frantically. "Why?"
"Did you really think that I - an attourney - would actually be down for your silly little murder shenanigans. Dod you never notice how not I would do the killing, but you. How I would just stand back and let you roam free. I have enough evidence against you to actually justify killing you by the end of this without being charged. You will die, William."

Chapter Text

After Miles Edgeworth betrayed his (soon to be) ex husband, he ended up hanging with the Anti Afton Army.

At first he thought that they weren't too bad, but things started becoming apparent real soon that these people are far from being innocent. Eventually, he even started taking notes on their behavior.

He noticed the floating triangle and a manlet he hanged out with did a lot of drugs. He tried his best to ignore it but eventually he ended having to deal with how loud the emotional one was. I mean, he even cried when the clock turned 1:00 PM, who does that?

"So, Spamton's bedtime is around 12:30 so he'll be asleep at one, you know how he gets around that time. Also make sure to only feed him stuff that doesn't have a price tag on it and try to cover the calories, he tries to read them all the time and I'm tired of having to basically feed him."
"Ummm..." Edgeworth was handled a lot of equipment by Bill, most of seeming like it wasn't meant for <5'4 manlets but rather dogs.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Keep him on a leash, don't let him out of your sight, he might see something like a speed limit sign or a mile marker sign, and if he sees another god damn one, it'll be MY PROBLEM TO DEAL WITH." Bill got in Edgeworth's face.

"God- why do I have to take care of him?"
"I have more important things to do, so I suggest you start before anything bad happens."

Bill turns the corner to see Spamton crying.

It was 12:01.

Chapter Text

Spamton was doing more drugs, in the biggest Anti-Afton Army meeting EVER. Edgeworth has joined forces with them, and Afton is all alone. There's no way he can win this time. He's weak without his boy-toy Edgeworth. They'll kill him.

But before they jump into that shit, Spamton just had the brilliant idea to snort cocaine and go outside, like a person who doesn't even care about being caught anymore would. Unluckily for him, he didn't get arrested. Instead, his penith thlammed on a car door, causing him to jump back and fall in pain.

Eventually Bill did come outside to see Spamton crying like a little bitch, and facepalmed while sighing at his dumb bullshit.

He just sighs, floating over and picking Spamton up by the back of his sweater, as though scruffing a cat. "Oh, quit you're cryin', it won't hurt, one day."

Spamton keeps sobbing "W-what?"

"Dude you'll be fine. and this is why you don't snort cocaine and then try to get in a car by yourself, dipshit." He sighs, floating back into the bar, Spamton still in his grip. "Now actually eat something or I swear to fuck-"

Chapter Text

Bill Cipher was doing a line of Coke by himself, enjoying the druggie lifestyle as always. Then he saw a FAMILIAR man walk up to him.
"Oh, NO! You can't take my drugs away!"
"I'm not here to do that, I'm just here to talk about thy sins you have committed in the past."
"So you WON'T take my drugs away?"
"Well there's nothing in the Bible that says you can't do drugs."
Bill Cipher feeling relieved about being blessed soon for his past crimes, snaps his fingers to make more Coke appear and to do a large line of it.

"So, Jesse boy, what have I done this time?" he asks and snorts the line through his imaginary nose.
"I've seen you plotting to kill someone again and I just can not appreciate that Bill", Jesus sighed. "Oh you shut up, you don't even know who you're talking about and also who allowed you to call me Bill, we're not on fucking first name basis!", Cipher yelled at the guy.

Bill and Jesus argued with eachother as Spamton sneaked away into the sewers, with many, MANY more drugs. Bill then fucking stabbed Jesus because he GOT THE POWERRR!

Chapter Text

[There's silence, before William starts talking.] Hey!

[There a pause, the cheer in his voice gone in the next words, replaced with a dull, monotone one.] Ugh, ew, fuck that sounded so fake. I- hi, I guess. Couldn't get you on a call... which, yeah- makes sense. I wouldn't talk to me too.

[Another pause, long and uncomfortable.] Yeah- I uh... I don't know. I just- it's quiet here. [He clears his throat, shifting.] I don't know what to do with myself anymore, hah.

[There's a sound of a phone falling, dropped, judging by the loud 'shit', and the voicemail ends.]

Miles did not expect that.

"Well, I did not expect this." He thought aloud to himself.
He isn't sure if he should be pity for him, or if this is some sort of manipulation tactic. After all, this man DID murder all of his other partners when he eventually got bored of them, so why would he be any different?

Or what if he wasn't. What if he was actually different than the others? He walked into the meeting, late.

"Where the hell were you." Bill scolded.
"Ah- Afton sent me a voicemail- I MEAN-"

There was a collective gasp, along with many people saying "I DIDN'T GET THAT!" or "WHY DID HE LIKE YOU MOREEEE?"

And Flo went up to Edgeworth, slapping him, she pulled out a fucking gun and put it to his head. "You motherfucker, you DID STEAL HIM FROM ME. He loved you more and NOW YOU GET VOICEMAILS?!" Bill also walked up to Edgeworth, shouting at the both of them.

"Aren't we all against Afton? Get off my case, you shouldn't care about him, not now. We have better things to be doing."

Chapter Text

Edgeworth had been getting many voicemails from Afton. He accidentally let it slip at the last meeting, no one else had gotten any. Some were pissed, like Bill and Flo. Flo almost killed Edgeworth over that. And so Edgeworth sat in the gay bar he used to frequent with his head in his hands, holding back tears. There's no Afton in sight. He checks his phone to see if there's another voicemail.

There is, a very short one. He speps outside the bar, turns up the volume ever so slightly and holds his phone up to his ear.
"Hey", the voicemail starts, Afton is quieter than usual. "I just wanted to tell you that I ironed all of your suits today. That's ummm... more than I ever expected today, I guess. Um, afterwards I..." Afton stops, then there's sobbing for some time. "I should stop now, I'm sorry", he hears, then the voicemail ends.
By now, there's tears in Edgeworths eyes.

He- at first, he kind of figured all of this was bullshit- normal tricks he used on everyone, and Miles honestly didn't think much of it.

Well, until he really started to hear just how worn down William, HIS William- fuck everyone else- was becoming, and it's as though he was being dragged into the same spiral with every message.

He sighs, barely holding onto the sobs that wished to spill past his lips, sliding down the side of the building onto the ground.

It hurt, hearing William like that.

It hurt, still holding on.

But if he let go, they'd both drown.

Chapter Text

Spamton woke up after dying, only to see someone he faintly remembers.
"HOLY [Cungadero] IS THAT YOU, JAMIE?"
Jamie was honestly shocked to see that Spamton ended up here this soon, if he was being honest.

The two decided to catch up a bit on what was happening in their lives, talking about that one time they all did drugs together and how Spamton just died to an overdose on cocaine.

"Well, that sounds rough but hey! The Onceler is right over there!"
Spamton turned and saw him, only to be revived.

And the first person he saw was Bill.

Spamton woke up, angry. "Why didn't you just [LET ME DIE.] I [SAW HIM] my [BELOVED.]" He broke down, sobbing. Bill turned into his human form to hit his head against the wall. "Why the hell. Why." His human form was tatted, and buff, holy shit he was hot. Spamton was still high, and out of it. "Holy [Cungadero] you are [hot]." He said.

"I guess. I mean I can shapeshift, I'm... god or whatever."
"But not as [stunningly good-looking] as him!", Spamton cried out. Bill felt kinda insulted at this, honestly. It wasn't like he put any focus on appearance, since he had a great personality to shine with, but looking worse than the Onceler...
"You're really never gonna get over that guy, huh?" Bill asked.
"He was my [most prized possesion]. Live without him just [isn't worth living for, PLS KILL ME]!"

Chapter Text

Edgeworth sighed, while pulling Spamton back from a dumpster with the leash. Of course, he as "the newbie" had to do all the jobs that no one else wanted to do.
Like taking a walk with Spamton...
He quickly turned when he saw a speed limit in the distance, pulling Spamton back into another direction before he could see it. He needed to be on watch for everything, all the time and it was exhausting. In his mind, he let the voicemail from yesterday replay. This wasn't good. There was something so earnest about them...

He sighs, shaking his head. It was... Odd- inconsistent and worrying, really. The worse he sounded, the longer the messages were, and the more frequent.

But then the days he sounded proud of doing something, Afton kept it short and- well, sweet is a horrid word for how dull and lifeless he sounds.

He sighs again, pulling Spamton away from another road. Fuck, this was a mess. No one else mentioned voicemails in the- club, army, cult- whatever it was- and it made him nervous, stomach sinking.

This was when once again, because Miles was too deep into his thoughts about the voicemails, that Spamton's penith once again, got thlammed on a car door that was opened then closed when driving by. Miles didn't notice anything was wrong until Spamton screamed loudly, saying:
"OH [Cungadero]! NOT AGAIN!"
All Miles could do was sigh, he couldn't believe this manlet keeps on getting his penith thlammed rather than getting ran over by a car.

Spamton cried while Miles just stood there awkwardly not quite knowing what to do.
Miles wasn't sure what he COULD do

Chapter Text

This was Bill's turn to get back to walking Spamton- since last time Miles proved there's too much going on in his mind to even focus on what the hell Spamton was doing.

However, when something caught the attention of Bill, he ended up making the mistake of turning away. This was when Spamton made his chance.

Spamton proceeded to get run over by a school bus at 6:30 AM, breaking most of his bones and dying in the process.

Then a kid screamed. "WHO'S THAT ONE?!" and Spamton fucking sobbed as he died. Bill rolled his eye and floated towards his corpse, reviving him. "Will you STOP GETTING YOURSELF HURT, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING SALESMAN PUPPET?!" Bill yells at Spamton, getting in his face.

Spamton does nothing but sob, unable to reply, unwilling to move.

What's the point, if his lover can't?

There is none.

Chapter Text

Bill turned into his human form as he looked in the mirror. He didn't see anyone else in the hallway, however, Flo popped out of the shadows. "Who are you trying to impress?" Flo asks.

Bill didn't wanna say, mostly cause he was trying to look good so Afton would take him back, but that would anger Flo. He doesn't wanna ruin another gun, not when they can be used for good. "No one." He mumbled. Flo walked away, into the main meeting room. Bill sighed in relief.

This was when Spamton decided to pop in soon after she left and said,
"LOOK HERE YOU [Little Sponge], I KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO LOSE SOMEONE YOU CARED ABOUT BUT THIS GUYS AN [F@$!HY@W]! I KNOW WHO YOU'RE TRYING TO IMPRESS, OKAY?"
Bill sighed, turning over to Spamton saying,
"Look, what happened to you isn't comparable to what happened to me, you wouldn't get it."

"No, you [WOULDN'T FUCKING GET IT]! You got [LEFT HEARTBROKEN] by some guy who [NEVER ACTUALLY CARED] for you, while my [EVERYTHING, I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART] was killed by your [Hyperlink blocked]!"
"Okay, first: I'm not heartbroken, what gave you that idea, pfft. And second, William's... not.. that... bad..?" This wasn't going where he wanted it to go. "Anyways, you have no clue about our relationship, it's very complex and too hard to grasp for your simple mind." He rushed off.

Chapter Text

Bill sighs, rolling his eyes.
Onceler,
Onceler,
Onceler.

He huffs. That guy's death caused a myriad of issues with Spamton, Flo's definitely lost it now, and he himself couldn't steel his nerves enough to kill the damn guy that he put past himself.

And now Edgeworth was an issue too? He won't contribute, won't help with Spamton, and he's still in cahoots with the guy.

He sighed, he started feeling like he could barely hold his shit together. Didn't help that Spamton actually decided to talk to him all pissed off like that. He knew he just got upset because of his grief over the Onceler but come on, it's been 8 months already, he should be over it right now.
... Then again, he knows by that logic that he should've gotten over William by this time.

"Look, Spamton, I just don't have the time or nerve or anything basically to help you right now, okay! I've been trying to help you, trying to get you clean, hell I even tried to find a home for you that isn't a dumpster, but you just weren't satisfied. All you want is that Onceler guy and I can't help you with that!"
"But Bill, can't you use your [USEFUL NECROMANCY RESURRECTION SKILLS, ONNLY $4.99] to revive him?"
"I... wait how do you know of these?" he asked, surprised, before a compilation of all the times he revived Spamton flashed before his inner eye, the second one. "Oh..."

Chapter Text

The Long Long man had been shocked, when Afton had pulled that knife. Of course, he had been warned by Jonker, but did he listen? NO! Of course not! Who do you think he was? A smart person?
But the more he had reflected, he had to admit that their relationship had been rather one-sided from the start.
Afton seemed to be barely interested in romance.
Until that twink Edgeworth apparently, who got voicemails from Afton, or so he said.
Cipher especially had been pissed and Flo had pulled a knife right at the meeting, disregarding the no weapons allowed sign.

Shocking, really, considering how insane she is.

And long long man?

He- he didn't know how to feel, watching as Edgeworth had to step outside.

He needed space. So, Long Long Man simply waited by the door, trying to keep the others from going out that way.

They've all been there once.

Even, if in this case it seemed, the heartbreak was genuine for both, and not just one.

Eventually when Miles came back in Long Long Man decided it was time to talk to him.
"Look, I know this must be rough for you, for everyone here to start hating you over this and this is honestly rough for me, too. But please know Afton probably won't feel this for very long (ha, funny) and may just go back to living how he was prior."
Miles heard what he said, but couldn't help but ask,
"... And how do I know you're not saying this because you want to get back with him too?"
"You can't, and honestly even I'm not sure if I am telling you this because of my own jealousy, but there is some truth to it. It's your choice to think what you will about it."

Chapter Text

Edgeworth sighs, flopping onto his bed before idly checking his phone. The place was spacious- not shocking considering the god of triangles owns the damn place-
He pauses when he sees another voicemail in the inbox, hurrying to check who it was from. William, again- the last one was over a week ago, so he was slightly worried.
He starts the message, sighing as he settles.

__[There's the sound of a throat being cleared, followed by shifting around on a bed or sofa, before a pause. There's a quiet swear, it sounds like, and then it goes quiet again for a few more seconds, William's shifting returning before he settles.] I... I know it's not much- today I got a load of wash done, though- __

He listens qui
[a brief silence] Heh- have you ever- have you ever felt like your chest is being stood on... but then when you put on your clothes you realize it's just you? [long pause] It's... It's weird.

[There's more silence, and a quiet swallow, barely audible, then a faint chuckle, though it sounds only half-amused.] Anyway, I uh- cleaned up the living room too- finally got that stain off the couch cushion... been bothering you for a while, figured it might make you happy to hear that I finally did it-

[Yet another pause, the sound of shifting.] If you even listen to these- Won't blame you if I don't. [A moment of silence, another sigh] Fuck, I should probably go now. Bye. [The message abruptly ends.]

Edgeworth puts down his phone and stares at the wall. He didn't want to betray Afton, but he thought it was for the best. Well, it's over now. He rolls over to see that there's a knife by his bed. Maybe it's to kill if Afton plans an ambush?

Would he do it? He thinks to himself. He probably... he doesn't know. This might've been his longest lasting relationship so far. Whatever he had with Phoenix on that fishing trip wasn't even comparable.
Maybe it's for the better it had ended. It would spare him the heartbreak when Afton would try to kill him for someone else in the end. Did he voicemail the others as well after it ended?

Chapter Text

Miles sighs, turning over in bed, glancing at the clock. 1:34. In the morning. Fuck. For the past few hours, he's just been laying here, unable to fall asleep. The most annoying part? He couldn't figure out why.

Edgeworth startles when his phone starts to ring, sitting up and looking over at the bright screen. It was William, the same contact name he's been meaning to change popping up. Thankfully his phone and ringtone volumes were set low, so this shouldn't wake anyone else. Not when your unable hear the audio from the other side of the bed, let alone through sound-proofed rooms.

He reaches for his phone, though hesitates, deciding not to answer it, instead grabbing it off the charging plate. His finger hovers over the answer button for a moment, and then the ignore, but he clicks neither. Sitting back, he listens as it goes to voicemail, sighing tiredly.

There's the annoying beep, and then silence, and part of Miles thinks that William with hang up then and there. But then he can hear shifting, and then footsteps.

{Hey- } William says, his voice clearer than usual since he's listening to the actual thing without it being prerecorded for once. And it was somewhat better to hear it not as muted, but it also meant that Miles could hear the footsteps and the unmotivated exhaustion in his voice that so much clearer.

{You're probably not awake right now- It's one in the morning, most people aren't. But I uh- Couldn't sleep. Again. I won't blame you if you're tired of the messages recorded at ungodly hours, if you even listen to them, sorry about that.}

Miles listens to him give a weak chuckle, the footsteps rhythmic and repetitive as though Afton was pacing. He frowns slightly, shifting to get himself comfortable, still listening. For a minute or so it's nothing but quiet pacing, before William starts talking again. {I don't know why, but for some reason this helps... Just- just talking, like you're still here.} He listens to William awkwardly pause, like he's trying to get his thoughts straight. {Even though these are probably ignored or trashed immediately, hah...}

{Maybe it's the rambling? I'm not sure.... have you- have you ever suddenly wanted to cry? Out of nowhere, mid doing something, and you have the urge to sob your eyes out, and it's like your heart's- it's being squeezed?} He sniffs, voice going shakey for a moment.

{It's... I've started feeling that, and it's gotten worse and I- } He pauses, taking a deep breath. {Maybe it's from the lack of sleep?} There's a sigh. {I don't know... but I uh- I cleaned out the fridge, there's still so much jello in there... I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat it all.} There's a hint of a smile in his voice, and Miles holds his finger over the answer button, biting his lip as he smiled a little. God, there was still Jello left from their raid at the supermarket?

His hand continues to hover over the phone set on the bed, before he drops it, call unanswered, sighing as Afton speaks. {Eh, one day. I wasn't expecting to get anything done today, if we're being real here- wanted to lay in bed all day again.} There's a little half-amused huff before it goes quiet, and Miles finally notices that Afton's pacing has slowed significantly. There's eventually the sound of him sitting down, and covers rustling, accompanied by a yawn.

{I should probably go- might as well try to sleep.} There's the sound of shifting, and then one of the phone being set down. William's voice is slightly farther now, and he yawns again. {Well uh- if you hear this, goodnight, dar- um... Miles. Goodnight.}

And even though knows that William can't hear it, he whispers a quiet goodnight back, right before the message ends. And then, before he can put his phone back, before he even realizes, his eyes slip shut.

Flo watched from the shadows, plotting. She knew Edgeworth had a secret that he was hiding. She skipped away, giggling. She'll have Afton back in no time!

Edgeworth woke up to listen to each of the voicemails again, Afton's voice is the only thing that brings him comfort, in this hell, the halls are cold, almost as cold as the people.

Edgeworth walked to the kitchen, plotting on how to get out of here.

What a shame, for what's to come for him.

Chapter Text

[There's a click as it starts, a few seconds of shifting as though William has laid down, silence stretching for a few minutes.] Hey, dar- [He pauses for a moment, clearing his throat.] Fuck, sorry... [He laughs weakly, though it sounds far more like a sob, sniffing.] It's been months and I- I still try to call you that. Even when you probably just ignore these... *things.*

[His voice takes on disgust, as though mad at himself, and the quiet resumes. He shifts again, as though rolling on his side.] Fuck, I- I'm pathetic aren't I? Just a- just a sack of flesh- [His voice breaks, and he sniffs, making an odd noise when he hiccups and tries to clear his throat at the same time.]

[There's a deep inhale, as though trying to compose himself, though there's just another sob.] I- i don't know... I- how long can I keep- can I keep doing this? [His words stutter, sorrowful and angry. For the first time in ages, William's emotion was obvious, though all of it was directed at himself.] I- maybe... maybe I should s-stop.

[The silent stretches on for several minutes, awkward and interspaced with quiet crying.] I... I have t-to go. [There's a sniff, and a deep inhale through his mouth, like he didn't want to cry any more.] And- I... I probably won't bother you again, I- I get it. [The voicemail ends.]

Edgeworth sits in silence for a few moments, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Hands shaking, he bites his lip, uncaring of the taste iron flooding his tounge as he listens to the phone in his hand ring.

And ring.

And ring.

[HELLO! PLEASE LEAVE YOUR MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE-]

And, taking a shaky breath, he tries his best.

"William", he starts, unsure of how to proceed. "I'm sorry. I know you probably don't want to hear it, seeing as I've hurt you, deeply. I know that. I thought I was in the right, I thought I... I'm sorry."
He sobs, trying to continue. "Just know that I am listening and I will always listen. I... I love you."

Edgeworth hung up after leaving that message, then he left his room, leaving his phone there. Flo snuck into the room to grab Edgeworth's phone. "Oh Edgeworth.." She whispered to herself. "You've got a way with words, it'd be such a shame if everyone knew you were still in love..." She left the room, phone in hand.

William Afton picked up the phone.

And for the first time in months, the tears stopped.

"If this is true- I-"

Afton sighed, calling Edgeworth back, excited, only to hear Flo. His dreams were shattered.

Was this faked?

Chapter Text

A meeting had been called, at 3 AM, by Flo. She played Edgeworth's voicemails from Afton to the group, followed by what Edgeworth said to him a few minutes ago. Edgeworth walked in just to hear Afton crying on his phone. Flo had called Afton to make a mockery out of him in front of everyone. Flo had told Afton that Edgeworth's voicemail was faked. And Flo hung up just before Edgeworth could stop her. She was evil. And he wasn't having it.

"No, you know what?", he asked into the room. "I'm sick of you. All of you. Except for maybe Long Long Man, he seems to be the only normal one around, honestly."
"Edgeworth, is this you quitting?" Bill asked, almost laughing at the thought.
"You, Bill, you're the worst of all of them!", Edgeworth yelled. "You're an incompetent leader" Flo nodded in the background "and just not a good person. The only 'good' thing you've ever done is pick up that charity case over there." He pointed at Spamton. "And then you gave me the responsibility for him."
"I'm done with you! I thought we would do good! Purge the world of a serial killer. Turns out, you're all killers and I'm not having it anymore!"

"Fuck it, I'm leaving." he states, turning to leave.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Flo coos, and he shrugs.

"Thing was acting up anyway." He states casually, walking out the door before breaking into a desperate sprint. Fuck- fuck, he had to get there- he had to make sure William was there, that he was alright-

And he had to know.

Gasping for air by the time he made it there, he worriedly pounded on the door. "WILLIAM-" He calls. "PLEASE, OPEN THE DOOR-" He cries, breathing heavy.

Chapter Text

Miles walked into the house, looking around. "Will? This isn't funny- I-" He walked into their shared bedroom to find William Afton on the floor, bleeding. Edgeworth panicked, to see a note scrawled in messy handwriting. "My true love will never love me, it was all fake, I have nothing now." Edgeworth put down the note, holding Afton in his arms, sobbing into his corpse. It felt cold. Too cold.

Sometime afterwards, roughly fifteen minutes, did the rest of the AAA walk in. Everyone was quite shocked, but Flo was seething, then took a deep breath and asked Spamton a couple questions. Miles didn't hear what and he didn't really care at the moment.

He's silent still, remaining catatonic as he holds the corpse close. No- this... Fuck, this was all his fault, wasn't it?

He colds the cold figure close, hugging William desperately for the last time. Because once he let go, he wouldn't get to again.

So, here he stays.

Chapter Text

Miles goes silent from his yelling when he walks into the bedroom, pausing before promptly falling to his knees when spots the note, tugging the limp person close.

He hates how it feels to hold William.

Limp and turning cold, undeniably gone, guaranteed by the hole in his head, but he still pleades regardless. "Oh, William... I-" he starts, voice breaking off into sobs as he tugs the other further onto his lap. "I'm so sorry..." he pleads, gently cupping a paleing cheek in his shaking hand, brushing unmanaged hair out from infront of shut eyes carefully with his thumb.

"Please, I'm sorry, I'll- I'll stay, this time..." He whispers quietly, hunching over. "I'll listen, and-" his breathing stutters, tears slipping down his face. "We can do stupid shit like shopping and buying all the Jello in stock again, heh-" He lets out a sob, shaking as he bites into his lip again, blood welling from the prior wound once more.

"If- if I didn't-" His voice breaks, and he can't help but start crying, body heaving as he clutches the limp one close. "I- I should... I should have kept my phone on me- or- or m-maybe just have picked up just one call, when I- when I had- had the chance..." his voice breaks completely, and he struggles to get another word out, sobbing for a few minutes, uncaring of the salt and iron, tears and blood, flooding his tounge.

He breathes raggedly, leaning down to touch his forehead against William's, desperately ignoring how wrong the coolness felt, far cooler than it usually was. "I... I should've just barged in here, as- as much as you hate that-" He lets out a laugh before it turns into a shaking wail, gently shifting William as though to make sure he was comfortable. "P-please, I- I just... I could be your d-darling again..." he stutters out, wiping the drop of blood that dripped from his lip away from Afton's cheek, though it only leaves a crimson streak on William's face. And then he just sobs, cradling the other in shaking arms, saying nothing.

It stayed like that for a while, sobs filling the air like oxygen. The sky was sublime, sadness and dread would be made deeply aware to anyone who could witness this depressing moment, and memories leaving Miles with a feelings of sadness.

Miles whispered to himself. He found himself guilty. he lifts up his hands, they're covered in blood, there's blood everywhere, it rushes into the lines in his hands, it soaks into his clothes. And for the first time, it wasn't the blood that bothered him.

"I- I love you-- I never stopped--- please- come back to me..."

Chapter Text

What they did not expect to find was the corpse of a depressed William. Out of everyone, the ones most upset seemed to be Miles and Flo.

While Miles was sobbing, holding William's corpse, Flo was seething. Then she took a giant inhale and said,
"Spamton, remember when you overdosed on cocaine mid-way through a line?"
"... YES?"
"Did you see anything after?"
"... YES, WHY?"
"... That's all I needed to know."

She walked out of the building, uncaring of the quivering songs in the background. Sighing, she gets into Bill’s car, before driving over to the nearest bridge.

And then over it.

The car plunged into the water, the pressure breaking apart the car, crushing it inwards. The window broke, water rushing in. The water covered Flo, suffocating her. Long Long Man runs over to the bridge, watching Flo die in front of his eyes.

Another member down, we won.

But at what cost?

Bill found a gun under Afton's bed.

"Oh."

Chapter Text

Bill held up the gun to show those who were left. Long Long Man had ran out just as Bill lifted the gun. "He shot himself?"

Spamton just looked at the gun, confused. "Why Would He Want To [GAME OVER] Himself, He Had Everyone In His Hands."

Edgeworth cried out. "Because he actually loved me, and a mockery was made out of his voicemails. HE WAS TOLD THAT MY LOVE FOR HIM WAS FAKE-"

Bill pointed the gun at Edgeworth.

"Oh, boo hoo, congratulations on the flex, tough guy. So what? He liked you more than everyone else here, no need to brag. Can't say I'm surprised that he fell for a twink, but still."

Miles goes silent and remains that way, holding the bloodied body closer ever so slightly. He only looks over at Bill, uncaring of the gun in his hand.

"What? Got nothing else to say? C'mon now, that's pathetic." Bill says, sighing as he tilts the gun pointed at Miles

Miles sees Spamton walk up to Bill, whispering something to him. His eye widened, like he had been shocked by something and quickly said,
"MY PORSCHE!"
He quickly came out of the house, seemingly ready to use the gun on someone other than him, being distracted.
Spamton walked up to him, talking to him about this similar situation they both gotten themselves into.

Chapter Text

Miles quiets ever so slightly in his sobbing when Bill points that gun at his head, but not by much. Who the fuck cares if he too gets shot, since all of this was his fault in the first place. So, tugging the co- tugging William closer, he looks to the other man.

"What, you got nothing else to say? That's fucking pathetic. You know, some of us have ACTUAL shit to worry about, instead of a pity party for a guy who treated people like trash." The being continued, an almost annoyed expression on his face. "Oh, Edgeworth this, Oh Miles that." He mocks, voice taking on a shrill tone. "That's the only shit he's said for the past few months, and honestly? Thank fuck he's shut up for good now."

Miles flinches slightly, though still says nothing, uncaring of the tears running down his cheeks as he cradles the other man on his lap. Part of him was tempted to dare Bill to shoot him, but really there's no denying he would. Besides, going out now would seem almost too early. All of this was his fault, and he should learn to live with it.

"Too bad, so sad, but hey! Ding dong, that wicked fuck is FINALLY dead!" Bill says. "Maybe I should get rid of you, right here right now, so you aren't blubbering about the same shit he was. Then you'll both die the same way, isn't that a nice thought?" He asks harshly, eye twitching.

"Bill-" Spamton starts, though gets cut of.

"Can it, pixie stick." He replies. "Don't think that I'm not gonna put you down you too." He says, looking down at the other.

"But- y-your [VEHICLE] h-has [DEPARTED]-"

"What the fuck do you mea- Oh, that BITCH-"

It was at this moment Bill had gotten distracted, for he had that Porsche longer than he could remember, it was practically his soulmate.

He, alongside Long Long Man, tried finding her, however their efforts were fruitless since she already drove herself over a bridge with it, soaking the entire car in water.
"WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT FUCKING BITCH KNEW I LOVED THAT CAR, FUCKING CUNT!"
Long Long Man felt really awkward about this, and just tried to pat Bill as if to say, "There, there. This will be alright, you can get a new car."

Meanwhile, back to Spamton and Miles:

Spamton calmed down Miles.

"If you need me, i'll be [AROUND]." Spamton left the house.

Miles sobbed into William's body.

Edgeworth keeps Afton's body in the cold basement. He doesn't want to dispose of the body, only because his heart will break much more without a trace of him around. He stole Afton's cologne and sprayed it around the house like lysol. He regretted not changing his last name. He talked to the body as if it was just asleep. He replayed the voicemails, memorizing them. He looked at Afton's body and cried. He'd cry for hours on end. He plugged his headphones into Afton's phone, listening to his favourite music, even if he told Afton that he hated the songs.

And there he sat, with a bottle of champagne,

and 3 bottles of anti-depressants.

Chapter Text

Miles sighs quietly, running his hand across silky material as he inhales deeply. The smell of comforting cologne hit him as soon as he opened the closet doors, and even after a few minutes, the scent was still nearly suffocating. He steps closer to his suits, spotless without one wrinkle, and tears prickle in his eyes as he hugs several of them.

A sob rocks his form, and he practically collapses onto the wall in the the back of the closet, pressing a fist to his lips after letting the fabric go. "W-Will-" he practically whimpers, sliding down the wall before curling into a ball. "I'm- I'm s-so s-sorry-" he barely gets out, voice breaking. William- he cared so much- went as far as removing any and every crease on suits he didn't even own...

And yet Edgeworth couldn't even answer the phone and talk.

He's fucking pathetic.
And it's all his fault.

He takes a stuttering breath, unable to get a handle on his breathing as he sobbed, air almost feeling like it was thinning.

Not like he deserved to, when all of this was his fault.

If he suffocated? Oh well. Might as well go out surrounded by a familiar smell, near something that showed just how much love he threw away, unable to pull enough oxygen into his lungs.

And then he blacked out, face streaked with tears, the strong scent of cologne burning his lungs.

His head hit the floor lol

Chapter Text

Miles pauses when he checks his notifications. Someone called him? No one ever- He pauses at the contact name that was in his inbox, the joking nickname "Ourple guy <3" shining up at him in the darkness of his new room, and he hesitates. William left a message? His thumb hovers over the play button for a moment, though he doesn't click it, instead turning off his phone and flopping back against the bedspread.

Part of him wants to play whatever Afton sent, but another was too nervous to. God knows what he sent- a tacky apology, maybe a manipulative plea... honestly, could be a screamy message full of nothing but death threats. He sighs, running a hand over his face, ultimately deciding to go to sleep. He'll have to change the contact name at some point.

A few nights later he found himself looking at the message again. Might as well listen to it, he can always delete it afterwards. Taking a breath, he hesitantly pressed the play button, sitting back against the pillow-covered headboard as he listened.

[There's silence for a few minutes, though the sound of shifting and something like a pencil on paper eventually can be heard, and the sound of William sighing, before clearing his throat.] Is this thing even working? ...Oh- it's been recording for over a minute now, fuck, I'm a dumbass. [There's a dull, half-hearted chuckle, and the sound of wood hitting a desk, probably a pencil.] Hey! ...Uh, hi, I guess, um- [There's a pause, as though he's fumbling with what to say.] Sorry about that- got distracted writing things down I guess, didn't realize this thing was already on. Never really did this before...

[His voice doesn't have the usual enthusiasm it normally does, only a weak cheerfulness to it, but even that's pathetically bland.] Been making a list of things I have have to do around the house, since I'm by myself now. Wanted to check in, since it's been a uh... a couple weeks since our- since our... squall. [He clears his throat again, sighing.] Sorry about that, by the way.

[There's a brief pause.] I just, wanted to check in and say hi, I guess. Uh- call me back, I don't know, or maybe don't. Whatever you want to do, really. [There's a sound of shifting, and then the pencil rolls, clattering to the floor, Afton swearing as it does so.] Well- I need to go, should probably pick that up- Why is it still rolling, it JUST hit the floor- If I don't, I'll forget about and probably roll and ankle stepping on a fuckin' pencil. Anyway, bye... [It sounds as though William gets up from his chair, and then the message ends.]

Depression.

Later, he'd regret not answering the call.

Miles laid his head against the bathroom tile, blood flowing between the tiles. He must have hit his head harder than he thought.

He thought he had to punish himself for what he did to William.

And so the blood dripped onto the white tile. He saw blood on his hands. He sat up and backed away. He looked up at the ceiling light, letting it blind him for a minute.

He later washed his hands, but the blood he saw never came off. He screamed, bashing his head into the wall, losing control of his body.

He slid down the wall and blacked out, Spamton was at his side.

Chapter Text

Long Long Man pauses before knocking on the door, waiting for a minute or so, not response. Shit- that's not a good sign. "Edgeworth?" He asks, unlocking and opening the front door, walking inside. "Miles, are you okay?"

He hears a thunk from another room, rushing in and finding Miles sitting on the kitchen tile. The man was taking a swig of champagne, directly from the bottle, reading one of several orange containers before beginning to open it. "Miles, STOP-" he says, rushing over, and the other man pauses, looking up.

And he was a mess. Edgeworth's lip, still not healed, was bleeding again, clothes messy and seemingly unchanged for the past few days. His hands, holding the bottle of pills, were shaking, enough so that Long Long Man could hear the contents rattling slightly. "Long?" He asks, voice cracking in a way that sounded painful.

"Miles, please- put the bottle down." He asks gently, sitting down next to the other man.

"But- I-"

"Miles." He says, gently taking the container from him, before putting it down out of reach, moving the others over with it.

"I-" Edgeworth starts, voice breaking before he puts his head in his hands, breath stuttering.

"Just breathe, Miles." He soothes, hesitating before putting his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I- I miss him s-so much- th-this is a-all my f-fault... if I- if-"

"Miles, look at me." Long Long Man says gently. "None of this is your fault."

And those words seemed to be all it took, because Miles let out a keening wail, breaking down into sobs. He shakes as tears slip down his face, and anything he tries to say doesn't come out.

"Just breathe, Miles. Just breathe. We'll figure all this out, okay?"

"Okay."

A few months later, Miles went to Bill. "Please, revive him, I know you have the power to."

"No. He should stay dead."

Then Bill decided to be selfish.

Oof

Chapter Text

When he pulled the trigger, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of him. Like all the pressure and pain from the last months were gone. Like Miles was in the past now and his mind not able to be hurting further.
But then it all came crashing down again.
Slowly, Afton opened his eyes. This was it. Pasta hell. And he was alone. No Miles, no one, really..
Maybe it was for the best. He deserved the solitude. He deserved the nothingness.
But the silence wouldn't be for long. Her.

"Oh, Will! There you are!" Flo says, running up to him in the hell filled with shitty sluts and shittier beer. "I've been looking for you~" she coos, stepping closer.

"Get the FUCK away from me, you bitch."

"Aw, but why, William? What, you upset that prick left you behind? Wah, wah, wow, like you couldn't see that coming-"

"He- It's fine- I deserved that-"

"But at least I have my rainbow back~!"

"Not for fucking long."
And Afton at least tried to escape.

Chapter Text

Afton slowly blinks awake, confused. Everything ached, in a weird way, and his mouth felt dry, as though nothing but cotton has been sitting in it. He squints at how bright the lights seem, and groans quietly from the headache attempting to form, and he goes to sit up.

"Woah, woah- careful now." A familiar voice says, helping him sit up, and has to resist the flinch that makes him want to slap Bill's hand away. "Do you need anything? Water? Food? Coffee?" The being asks, summoning each item as he talks.

William opens his mouth to talk, though pauses, hesitating before grabbing the glass of water sitting in front of him. He downs it all in a few seconds while giving Bill an odd look. The fuck was he up to- well besides reviving people who want to be left the fuck alone, it seems.

"Welcome back, Wills. How've you been?" Cipher says, stretching his human form before offering over another glass of water.

"Great, until about 5 minutes ago." He replies, voice grating. He still doesn't take the extra water, mostly out of spite, and keeps talking. "I think I preferred it when my body was non-functional... Not nice to wake people who want their dirt naps, is it?"

Bill sighs, rolling his set of eyes for once, sitting down on the floor. "Really? Not even a thank you? And to think you used to correct me on manners."

"Not when I return to a world where the person I loved fuckin tricked me, no." William says quietly.

"Oh, can you shut up about that Edgeworth guy for ONCE?" Bill says, seeming downright annoyed at the thought. "My god, I figured after that stupid stunt of yours, you might just let the fuck go. We could- we could rule the world, the UNIVERSE, Wills- Properly this time, just like you wa-"

"No."

"What do you mean no- didn't you- Isn't that-"

"Not anymore. Right now? I just wanna be in the ground, or maybe just my house since that's not a fuckin option anymore."

Afton sighs as he walks to his house, trying to ignore the pounding of his headache. Thankfully, his home wasn't much farther, and maybe he could find something in the cabinet that wasn't expired to take. Maybe.

Hard to tell, how long had he been out anyway? After all, shit for the dead has a different time-frame for those of the living- It seemed only like a few weeks before he was revived, but who knows.

There's still snow on the ground, so maybe it hasn't been too long.

Sighing, he kicks unraked leaves off of a section of flower bed, crouching down before moving a few inches of mulch out of the way near one of his bushes. Ah, there it is. He stands, dusting off what looked like a rock before kicking the mulch back in place, popping the thing open.

Good, the key was still in there.

Sighing and rubbing his head, he unlocks the door, shoving it open before walking inside. It was quiet, unshockingly, and he starts heading to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen before pausing at what he saw in the living room.

And then he promptly watched Miles, who was sitting on his couch, break down sobbing. Which, the matter of why he was casually here was confusing in itself, but-
Didn't he lie about everything on that call, too?
So why was he crying so much, or at all?

Because Flo said-
...
Ah. So that's what she did.

What a bitch. At least he won't have to deal with her anymore.

Chapter Text

Miles sat on the couch, texting Long Long Man. It's been 7 months since William's death, and although he'd lie about being over him, he wasn't. He still cried every single night. He still talked to the air, as if William was there. He hid it in front of everyone, except Long Long Man, who was probably the only one he could trust.

The door opened. "How did Long Long Man get here so quickly-" Miles wondered to himself. Then he saw William. He stared at William for a good minute, scared that he was just seeing things.

But he wasn't.

He broke down crying.

He sobbed, meanwhile Afton looked very worried.

But then a warm hand cradles his cheek, wiping away his tears, and he bites into his lip.

No- he's not actually here, right- his mind is just playing tricks on him, that has to be it-

"Hey, Hey, don't do that," He hears William say, hand moving to under his chin.

He's- he actually there.

Chapter Text

They sit on the couch again, taking in the past few hours.
They rarely speak and Miles occasionally sobs or even starts full on crying.
"S-she is dead", he says then, suddenly and without context.
"D-drove herself o-off a bridge.., the moment we found your body."
Silence.
"I-in case you wanted to know..."
"Oh, I do know", William looks grim.
"I've met her.."

"How did you--?" Miles was confused.
"She tortured me in hell, and that pain was worse then putting a bullet through my skull, i'll tell you that much..." Will got a raging headache again.

"Bitch would NOT leave me alone, and oh, I loathed her before, and as much as I hate Bill, the one good thing he ever did for me was revive me-" He sighs, pressing his face to Mile's shoulder. "Oh, I fucked up- all this is my fault, god, I'm- I'm so dramatic, a-aren't I-" He pauses. "Miles, I'm... I'm s-so sorry, Miles, I- I shouldn't have j-just-" His voice breaks, and he tries to resist the tears in his eyes, though they silent flow as Miles tugs him close.

Chapter Text

William continues to lay there, Miles asleep on top of him, rubbing the other's back. He pauses, however, when he hears the front door unlock and open, someone quickly heading inside.

"Miles? Miles, are you okay? MIL-" Long Long Man pauses when he makes eye contact with Afton, as though trying to confirm what was seeing.

"Hey-"

"What- Hey? You- He's

"Fine. He's gonna be fine." William states, hugging Miles tighter. "For now", he adds, which sends a shiver down Long Long Mans spine.
"What- what are you planning?" he asks.
"Nothing. Yet." William answers, not quite truthfully.
"But I'll have to come up with something quick. Or else Bill might cause another apocalypse pity party."
"You want to kill him?", Long Long Man tries to confirm.
"That's madness! He'S Bill fucking Cipher

"And? I'm sure there's a way to kill him- checks and balances you know-"
"Are you- crazy?! He can't just drop dead---"
"Oh don't worry, killing immortal beings is my specialty."

Chapter Text

"Fuck- Wonk, I heated the sugar too much-"

"Oh, let me see-" Willy hums, looking at the candy thermometer, before humming. "Oh well! Guess we're making toffee instead of caramel, then, that's alright- Now, what flavor should we add?"

"Unsure, really, how about, ummm-"

They put their hands on the same bottle of flavouring and omg they're so gay.

(also Yeehonk)

Wonka pulled his hand back, quickly. "We shouldn't", he said and suddenly Long Long Man had a flashback.
"Not before we sanitized our hands", Wonka said, suggestively.
So Long Long Man again was able to shove his Long Sakeru Gummi down another persons throat (after sanitizing his hands ofc)

Chapter Text

Wonka pauses when he sees Spamton come out onto the porch of the house, jittery and seeming like an overall mess. He went over to talk with Long on the fancy steps (gods were in need of fancy shit he guessed, granted he's in no place to judge), for a quick pick-me-up session as Long liked to call it.

And then Bill walked out in his funny anger rage.

"GET OFF MY FUCKING LAWN BEFORE I TURN YOU INTO SPAMTON'S COCAINE."

"So, you're telling me, as an all powerful being in the universe, who could do whatever, whenever, and have most of everything you want, you're sitting here, sobbing over a dude that recovered better than you, and you keep trying to fuck up anyone you encounter so much thAt-" He pauses at the hand on his shoulder. (thanks long long man) "Well. Uhm, maybe just consider that what you're doing is so extremely stupid and find a way to correct it."

Bill is silent.

"No", he decides then. "I am not gonna deal with that today." He snaps his fingers and Long and Wonka find themselves in the chaos dimension, aka Wonkas bedroom.
"Well that was... something", Long states while he tries to get a good look of the foreign room. "Well, I'd be down for something else", Wonka says and pulls out vinegar. Use this when taking a shower and then..." he winks.
Long is just too stunned to speak.
(As someone who is related to a germaphobe, yes! Washing yourself with vinegar to be allowed to enter their home! It's a thing!)

Chapter Text

Spamton, once again high off his ass is venting the current issue he has with an equally as high Bill.
"I GET HIM REVIVED AND HOW DOES HE REPAY ME? THROWING A [$9.99 Party] WITHOUT ME!"
"Well let's see pal, weren't you the one that got his ass killed in the first place? Shouldn't you at least try to apologize?"
Spamton had to admit he had a good point there, especially since he was saying some very scary shit at the time when he did it.
"YOU HAVE A [Sharp End] ON THAT. BUT HOW WILL WE FIND HIS [Suburbanite Homes In Your Area]?"
"I already got his address, pal. While you were here complaining I decided to look up information about him, he lives on the other side of town. Also, I didn't realize that you had THAT many brothers."
They proceeded to snort one more line of coke before eventually getting into Bill's (new) car.

During the ride mid-way through, Spamton completely forgot where he was for a moment, only to remember he was on his way to see B. He turned to look at Bill, only to see that during this time he gotten his hands on a bunch of bottles of vodka.
"... WHEN DID YOU GET YOUR HANDS ON [$29.99 Drink that burns on the way down]?"
"Ugh don't you remember? I literally got my hands on this ten minutes ago, you saw me go into the store."
"I DON'T RECALL [A Specific Event In A Specific Year]."
"Well that's a you issue, besides you should be happy that I'm helping you with this at all."

Spamton is randomly right inside of a house he faintly recognizes, and is right in front of B, meanwhile Bill is on the couch drinking the bottle of vodka.
"I don't really get why you're here in my home, I thought I made it clear that since no one let you go into the building for the family reunion that you would know I don't want to see you."
"I CAME HERE TO TELL YOU THAT-"

Spamton is in the car again, and turns to Bill.
"WAIT, WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT [Suburbanite House]?"
"You said that you forgot then wanted me to take us to a gas station for slushies."
Bill pauses, then says,
"Want some of this vodka by the way? We can put some of this in the slushies."
"YES, I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE [A Mix Of Burning And $4.99 Drink]. BUT I WOULD ALSO [Be Pleased And Enjoy] GOING BACK B'S [Suburbanite House]."

Spamton once again is faced with seeing B, and sees that Bill once again is on the couch, with a slushie in hand. That's when Spamton notices that he himself, is holding a slushie and has a mixed taste of cherry and alcohol in his mouth.
"-econd time you've come here, what do you have to say."
"I'VE COME TO SAY THAT-"
He once again ends up being in Bill's car.
"FFFFFFFFFFF [Fifty Percent Off]! I KEEP [Having Memory Issues? Call This Number Now! Don't Wait!]"
"Fine, geez, I'll turn back again. But first I'm picking something up from the store."

Spamton is back at B's house, and this time Bill has a spray paint can and is using it to write on the walls, "Repaint your walls creamy yellow next time!" while smoking a blunt. B is just waiting for Spamton to say something this time.

Spamton ends up back in the car.
"LAST TIME TO TRY TO [Please! Forgive Me!]"

Spamton is back at B's house, no Bill in sight and this time B is looking at him concerned and sort of… sad.
"Why did you decide to come back here? It's been a little bit more than three weeks since you came here last time. You look like shit, dude."
Spamton pauses for a moment, genuinely trying to think of how he wants his apology to go this time. After about thirty seconds, he finally says,
"LOOK, I'M [Pain! It Hurts! Please Forgive Me! Have Mercy!]. I KNOW THAT I SCREWED YOU OVER BY [Commit Die] BUT YOU'RE [Good As New] NOW! DOESN'T THAT MAKE WHAT I DID [Fine And Dandy]?"
"No, it doesn't. Look, we didn't let you in not because we all hate you, but because honestly what you did terrified me. You not only killed me, but made my last moments absolutely terrifying. Like dude, why would you even do that to me?"
B was now looking sad and like he was soon going to start crying. Spamton eventually yelled,
"I WAS ON [Dust Of An Angel] AND I WAS HAVING A [Something Broken? Call This Number]! I HONESTLY DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE WHAT I HAD DONE UNTIL I STOPPED [See And Listen]!"
"So you decide to try to apologize to me while you're very clearly intoxicated?"
Spamton looked a bit hurt for a moment and looked away. B gave a sigh, then said
"Look, I don't know what's happening in your life right now, but I promise you can improve it. I can't forgive you right now, I just can't, knowing that you're trying to apologize for something you keep doing isn't authentic. If you really want to be forgiven, take this."
B proceeds to write some numbers on a note, and hands it to G. Spamton.
"This is Z's number, he has recently gotten out of prison and started going to a good rehab and has improved his life finally. You should call him, ask him about sobriety and give rehab a chance. Once I know you're not going to be doing this to yourself again is when I can maybe finally forgive you, alright dude?"
Spamton... wasn't sure what to say. He remembered going to rehab at least ten other times before and none of it working. Still, he wants to reconnect with his family so he nods his head and leaves.

He goes out to see Bill in his car, somehow still having a bottle of vodka that he is currently downing. Once Bill sees him, he pauses to ask,
"So, pal, how'd it go?"
"WELL I'M THINKING OF [Getting Cleaned Up] AND GOING BACK TO [Sobriety And Withdrawal]."
Bill ended up holding in some laughter,
"Pffft, get real, here. I've taken you to rehab multiple times before and you never got better. You just found new ways to get drugs that I don't even know about! So good luck with that, pal."
Despite his doubt, this was when Spamton finally decided that maybe he will give sobriety an actual chance.
So the next day, he gave the number a call.

"Hello?"

Later, Spamton got better, however, he still missed The Onceler.

They were soulmates...?

Chapter Text

Bill was realizing that maybe, he is very lonely. And bored. Ever since AAA became non-existent, and Spamton went to rehab three months ago and hasn't come back from it yet, and Long Long Man is doing... who fucking knows, it involves a candy man is all Bill knows, that and he may be a lonely loser that has no idea how to have fun without doing drugs. So what does he do?

... He does more drugs. He also contemplates what he is doing with his life.

But honestly, mostly drugs.

It's nice when you're a (My) Immortal Being.

Can't overdose that way.

He sighs, doing another line before heading over to hooters to cope with his issues and spread Syphilis and Herpes to the ugly ones.

Another perk to being a god? he doesn't have it but now other randos do.

Bill gave std's to the people and now he has more tattoos holy fuck shit.

Chapter Text

Spamton was In an AA meeting, usually Z would be there and then drop him off at Bill's but he was sick that day so Bill would have to pick him up today.

Today, there was a lady with long brown hair and black clothes in the AA meeting saying,
"Hi, my name is Mabel. I am recovering from meth, cocaine and LSD and I think the reason I got into it was because of something traumatic that happened in the past because of something... awful that happened in my pre-teen years that my brother Mason (Dipper) and I witnessed"
Spamton started to dissociate and not pay attention until the meeting was over.

He waited for Bill in front of the location. Of course, he was late. Almighty being, but can't keep a time schedule.
"And who are you waiting for?", The goth chick from the meeting asked. "My brother is supposed to pick me up, but he's kinda busy, sooo.." "My [BIG SHOT] bestie, of course.", Spamton answered truthfully.
They waited in light chatter for some time, before two cars drove up on the sideway.

"Well, that's my brother! See you nex-"

"HEY, PIXIE STICK, HURRY IT UP!" Bill shouts, getting out of the car.

"Wait- is that- oh my god, it is- HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE, YOU CARDBOARD TRiANLE-"

"Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too kid, I don't give a shit. C'mon, Spamton." He stumbles out, bottle in hand. "YO, CANHEAD< LET'S GO-"

"Alright." Spamton replies curtly, getting in the car as bill stum

Chapter Text

"So who was that [LOVELY LADY]", Spamton asks Bill on the ride home from the AA (not AAA, they kinda closed) meeting.
"Why the fuck do you care, I don't even remember her at all. Or her stupid twin brother who destroyed all my plans and humiliated me in front of all my friends. Nope. Not at all."
There's an awkward silence.
"Give me some of your coke, I need to forget this real quick." Bill orders. "All of this."
"I am [VERY SOBER, INDEED." Spamton answers,

"Ugh, forget it, then!"
Bill was starting to get pissy about Spamton and his life choices, his friends were all leaving him and it was actually starting to cause a toll on him. Didn't help that he basically made this leech be motivated to get better, now. He decided to take a swig from the bottle while Spamton just looked at him like if he just did something heinous.
"What?!"
"NOTHING."

Bill threw the bottle at Spamton. "Okay you LITTLE SHIT-"

Spamton flinches away, narrowly avoiding it, glad that alcoholic bottles are hard to break. Part of him was glad the bottle was empty, but another was concerned, because Bill and alcohol didn't...

well, mix kindly.

At least he doesn't have another to drink to throw- not in the car, at least.
And the Being seemed drunk enough that he couldn't summon another bottle, so hopefully Spamton will be in the clear.

At least, for a half hour.

Because the traffic became way slower. "God fucking dammit!", Bill yelled, lightly applying pressure to the gas. For now. Then he summoned himself another bottle and the honking began. When they finally got out of the slow traffic, they were still driving behind a very slow person. A new driver, probably.
"Move, you fucking snail!", Bill yelled. He began speeding behind them, only to drive slower for a undershort distance and then speed again.
"This can't be real!" He takes a swig out of another bottle. It is dark by now, they're on a very broken street and Bill is DRUNK. Nothing better than trying to pass them on the street of course. And so he tries to drive along the other car, ramming them in the process. Their car starts sliding from side to side. "Oh fuck that bitch!", Bill yells and then has to stop the car abruptly, causing Spamton to hit his head and pass out.

Chapter Text

So Wonka and Long Looong Maaaan! were doing the usual stuff, you know. Definetely not each other! Just the things you do when you are running a sweets company together. This would certainly not end in disaster or anything sexual for that matter, nope!
Long and Wonka were busy brainstorming new Sakeru Gummi flavours at the moment.

"Hm- what about kiwi?" Wonka offers.

"Oh, that could work," Long says, leaning closer. "What, else though.

"Hmm, I don't know~"

Honestly, Long Long Man had something else on his mind, but that could *still* be referred to as a Sakeru Gummi.

And they toooootallyyyy didn't fuck after that nope they're JUSt business partners.

Chapter Text

Long admits that it's not proper form to zone out on your clients mid couples-therapy session, but he was tired, and was doing so before he even realized the fact. Shit- he hasn't been able to sleep the past few days, and all the signs pointed to stress, but he has yet to figure out why.

Poor Wonk was having a rough time too, and as little discussed in the family, the new sliver of info about The Little Lad put a lot in perspective, and he was worried for Wonka.

He was worried an ungodly amount, his beloved-- holy shit.

His eyes went wide "I uh- did I-"
"What is it?"
"I think I left the light on at home-"

He knew it was MUCH more than that.

He was starting to realize that maybe he cares deeply about Wonka, that maybe he's a simp.

He tried to be smooth about it dring his session. Which was getting increasingly harder because honestly? How can you do couples counseling when you're only thinking about your own fucked relationship?
After finishing his 9 to 5 counseling shift, he began to panic again when he looked at his time-plan. Of course, he had to put in another shift in the candy factory again. It was his company as well, so obviously! He couldn't just skip on that and leave all the work to Wonka!
He had to take a Looong Loooong Breaaath, before he was able to enter the factory. What was he supposed to do? Just try to act like everything was normal? He was in love with his fucking co-worker, no worse, business partner! This was gonna be awkward. Not like the last few weeks.

Shit, shit- damnit, he doesn't- Long pauses, having to take another breath.
it's- it's fine, he's not like Afton, fuck, even Will isn't his old self, so-
He just- needs to take a bit, sort out his thoughts.
Figure this mess out.

Wonka has enough on his plate, anyway.
Sighing, he hesitates, opening the factory door before heading inside.
Fuck, this is a mess.

Chapter Text

Bill Cipher witnessed possibly the most horrifying creature in the universe, no one would usually notice at first since the creature usually makes itself look like a regular cat, but it in fact was an eldritch horror.

The creature is called Garfield.

The cat had a blunt in his hand.

Oh dear god.

"Give me the LAHSAGA, JON"

Bill backed away slowly. "I'm not Jon, I'm Bill Cipher..."

"Nice try Jon."

Bill ran the fuck away. He is going to tell Long Long Man, because he knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows someone who can KILL this foul beast.

And he keeps running, though is too late, getting tackled to the ground before passing the fuck out.

He wakes up bound to a chair.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY GODDAMN LASAGNA JON-"

And then he wakes up.
Bill gasps, clutching at his burning wrists.
They still had marks from tightly bound rope on them.

Chapter Text

The clouds went up to Garfield after stealing Bill Cipher's immortality, the immortality that they were about to give to Miles. Then the clouds spoke up. "Five Nights At Freddy's Nightmare Ballora Cosplay Costume. Five Nights at Freddy's series is a horror themed video game. This is a game about a job opening at a kiddie pizeria but there are murderous animatronic animal singers that you have to watch through cameras set up all around the building. The reason why Five Nights at Freedy is scary because it's based around murder and fending off possessed killing machines. Ballora is a humanoid ballerina dancer where she entertains at her own gallery room. She loves to dance and always has her eyes closed. Here we have Ballora's costume that is a printed dress, tights and mask. Beautifully designed, excellent workmanship, lightweight, fashionable and creative, this is a must have costume for all kinds of occasions, events and parties."

Garfield dropped the blunt he was smoking and then chased the clouds, trying to kill them.

"THE COPYPASTA MOTHER FUCKER" they shout, as garfield tried and failed to stab them, as they were clouds.

"YEAH, COPYPASTA!Five Nights At Freddy's Nightmare Ballora Cosplay Costume. Five Nights at Freddy's series is a horror themed video game. This is a game about a job opening at a kiddie pizeria but there are murderous animatronic animal singers that you have to watch through cameras set up all around the building. The reason why Five Nights at Freedy is scary because it's based around murder and fending off possessed killing machines. Ballora is a humanoid ballerina dancer where she entertains at her own gallery room. She loves to dance and always has her eyes closed. Here we have Ballora's costume that is a printed dress, tights and mask. Beautifully designed, excellent workmanship, lightweight, fashionable and creative, this is a must have costume for all kinds of occasions, events and parties."

Then Garfield in his stoned af mind had an idea...
He threw away the blunt he had been smoking and stepped on it for good measure.
"Five Nights At Freddy's Nightmare Ballora Cosplay Costume. Five Nights at Freddy's series is a horror themed video game. This is a game about a job opening at a kiddie pizeria but there are murderous animatronic animal singers that you have to watch through cameras set up all around the building. The reason why Five Nights at Freedy is scary because it's based around murder and fending off possessed killing machines. Ballora is a humanoid ballerina dancer where she entertains at her own gallery room. She loves to dance and always has her eyes closed. Here we have Ballora's costume that is a printed dress, tights and mask. Beautifully designed, excellent workmanship, lightweight, fashionable and creative, this is a must have costume for all kinds of occasions, events and parties......." the clouds wispered, as they whisped away, growing smaller and smaller until they were nothing that was even remotely comparable to the fog they had once been.
"Five Nights At Freddy's Nightmare Ballora Cosplay Costume. Five Nights at Freddy's series is a horror themed...", one of said, barely audible, as it slowly hushed from existence.
"Fuck you", Garfield said and flipped them off.
THen he lit himself another blunt and sat down, relaxing.
His eyes shot open, when he heard it. A quiet sound, growing louder every second:
"Five Nights At Freddy's Nightmare Ballora Cosplay Costume. Five Nights at Freddy's series is a horror themed video game. This is a game about a job opening at a kiddie pizeria but there are murderous animatronic animal singers that you have to watch through cameras set up all around the building. The reason why Five Nights at Freedy is scary because it's based around murder and fending off possessed killing machines. Ballora is a humanoid ballerina dancer where she entertains at her own gallery room. She loves to dance and always has her eyes closed. Here we have Ballora's costume that is a printed dress, tights and mask. Beautifully designed, excellent workmanship, lightweight, fashionable and creative, this is a must have costume for all kinds of occasions, events and parties."

For the first time in ages, Garfield screamed.

Chapter Text

Miles and William were about to head to bed, only to see Bill Cipher in their bedroom. Will was in the bathroom as Miles walked into the bathroom.

Will heard a gunshot. He rushed to the bedroom only to see Miles dead, in a puddle of blood, with a hole through his head.

He fell to the ground, holding Miles, just as Miles had held Will's body months before.

And he looked to Bill in anger.

"Bill, this won't change any-" Afton starts, before a loud bang echoes through the room, a thump sounding not long after. "MILES-" he quickly shouts, darting over to where his husband had fallen, quickly kneeling down on the floor and pulling the other close. "Miles, no, no, Miles-" he says, holding the other man, trying desperately to ignore how his own limbs shake.

He pauses at laughter, and slowly looks up, Bill just standing there. "Well, seems like your little problem was solved!" The being said gleefully. "What a show, too! Anyway, where were we, Wills?"

William remains silent for a moment, clutching Edgeworth close. "I told you, we have been done for years. And there's no changing that."

"But, Wills, after all I've done to deserve you and-"

"All you deserve is to die. That. Is. It. You should die as painfully slow as possible, and trust me, I'll find a way to ensure that," he spits as he's kneeled there.

"But I- I can give you everything you ever wanted, Wills- infinite power, control, even something as simple as a frilly umbrella in a drink-"

"Go to hell."

There was a pause, then William continued,
"You know for a while back in Hell I thought Flo was the worst person I knew, that she did me the most dirty and BOTHERED me in Hell but you know what? I was wrong, you're the WORST person I have ever met in my entire life. Go get syphilis and die a horrible fucking death."

"Oh, you'Re comparing me to that fucking bitch?", Bill screamed. "All she ever did was destroy. I brought you back from the fucking dead! But you're still just like you've always have been! An ungrateful, unfaithful, leeching egomaniac who doesn't give two shits about anything but himself!"
"You know what, Cipher", Afton said, a manic stare piercing through his opponent, "I don't fucking. Care. What you think of me."

Chapter Text

Flo was honestly getting sick of everyone's shit here. Why is Miles special? Why does Spamton have to be everyone's problem? Why is Bill the leader? WHO made him leader? She truly deep down, wanted her Rainbow back.

So when she saw Miles respond to a voice mail, she couldn't help but pick his phone up.

She had to know, after all, and what better way from finding out from the rainbow himself?

Nearly startling when the phone rings, she quickly answers, smiling.

-Hello? Miles- Miles are you there?- Afton desperately pleads from the other line, instantly going silent at her voice.

"Well hello, rainbow~"

Afton's face fell. "Flo. What the hell- you- you're horrible."

"I'll call you back soon, hun, I have to tell my friends about this- I can't believe you believed that Edgeworth loved you ever once. Come back to me, you won't regret it! And if you don't, I'll make your life hell."

Flo hung up and rung the meeting bell to call everyone to the meeting at precisely 3 AM. They'll know the truth now.

Er, well, the "truth"

Flo wants her rainbow back, and she'll do anything for him.

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth found himself frequenting the gay bar where the purple hottie in the maid outfit worked an awful lot. His name was William and he had dead eyes to get lost in, as well as a perfect ass.
Today he visited early, so there were few customers in the bar and the literal kid (well, he might have been 20 but honestly, that was a kid for MIle's) in the orange tracksuit next to him at the bar was very...

very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY, fucking obnoxious. he won't shut up, and keeps launching a squid gun of some sort into various patrons. He doesn't even seem like he's there for a drink. Dude is clearly a virgin, probably an incel who is straight, not gay(bi at best)--and can't take a hint for the life of him.

"By the way, I'm VECTOR!" He spoke- very aggressively, for the 8th time in the past hour.

"I know. You really don't have to keep repeating your name." Miles huffed, quite annoyed at the existence of Vec--- sorry--- VECTOR!.

Miles honestly wanted to put a grocery bag on his head, then put a rubber band on his neck, hoping he dies, but Miles is a lawyer, he can't do that.

But Afton--- holy fuck-- Miles had an obsession with this man... he could be evil for all he knows, but GOD he doesn't care. Miles was in love...

"So hey! In case you haven't noticed, I'm VECTOR!" He said for the ninth time, using his squid gun... THING on a random tumblr sexyman with red hair and deer ears.
"Yes, I know, you said this the ninth time now. You needn't tell me anymore." Said Miles with the most polite tone he could've tried. Then the red ace deer demon dude who low-key looked a BIT like a strawberry pimp decided he had enough of VECTOR's shit and a black tentacle reached out of a hole to grab him and took him in.
"You're welcome." He said, with a Mid-Atlantic accent that also had a radio static effect, walking away.

Then he saw his beloved go towards his way.

"So, I reckon you come here often?", the guy said with the most sexy bri'ish accent there is, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye with his own dead eyes (did I mention he has a dead, soulless stare?)
"So do you", Miles said and immediately wanted to try the thing with the grocery bag again.
But William just laughed. "You're cute", he told him and handed him a note. "11pm, don't be late..." He then winked. (ew)
"By the way, I'm VECTOR!"

Chapter Text

Miles came to the gay bar the next day, so entranced with Afton to the point where every minute of the day was filled with thoughts of him--- until the bliss was interrupted by.... *sigh* VECTOR!.

"I got a cannon that shoots out heat seeking sharks! OH YEAH!" VECTOR! shouted, bringing all eyes in the bar to him, which Miles didn't like.

"Hi!", the kid said while sitting down next to Miles AGAIN!!!!!
"I'm VECTOR!!!!"
Edgeworth was already mentally checking his pockets for anything that could be used as a deadly weapon at this point.
Vector waited for a few seconds before repeating "I'm VECTORRR!!" right into his ear.
"YES I HEARD!", Edgeworth snapped. "I heard this time and I heard THE LAST TIME AND I ALSO HEARD THE TEN OTHER TIMES YOU INTRODUCED YOURSELF TO ME YESTERDAY LEAVE ME ALONE YOU FUCKING FAKE-TWINK WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE!!! -- Wait, are you even old enough to drink?"

"Uhhh, well-"
Miles just knew at that moment what was up, and went to get on up to get one of the people working there to kick him out.
"W-wait, no!"
Said VECTOR, going to try to attempt to block the way Miles was heading, since he basically revealed he was underaged when it came to partaking in drinking.

Then he tripped over a short, big-boned skeleton and fell on his ass, and alongside that his squid gun happened to shoot out at just that moment and hit him in the face.
"heh, maybe watch where you're going next time, bud" Said the skeleton.
"QUIET YOU!"

"woah there pal, calm down." The skeleton says, as VECTOR forces himself to his feet.

Miles couldn’t take any of this anymore.
"I don’t know who you are, but I've had to deal with that THING all night. He just randomly appeared," Miles says, gesturing to the retreating blob of orange.
"And is like a kid on a playground. Yet he's in a gay bar."

Then sans just--- disappears--

And William walks up to Miles.

"So.. would you like to get together again, love?" Afton asked, smirking.

"Y-yeah-- Yes. That would be nice.." Miles stuttered.

"Aww I see I've already got you wrapped around my finger, Miles." Afton had a very smooth tone, and Miles was so addicted to the way he spoke.

Afton's words were like fire, and Miles was a moth.

And later that day is when they shared their first kiss.

Chapter Text

William Afton stared dead-eyed (yep) at the gun that was pointed into his face by non other than his husband, the person he trusted most. THe only man he ever truly loved. And now he was told that Edgeworth had led him on the whole time, siding with the army of exes that stood in front of their doorstep. This seemed to be his personal "Et tu, Brute?" moment and Afton felt like someone just stabbed him in the back like 50 times.
The members of the AAA could be heard from their front-yard already.
There was a single tear in Edgworth's eye

that didn't dare trickle down his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"You're a coward, is what." Afton retorts, the bitter feeling lodged in his throat unfamiliar.

"I can't just-- They'll try to kill you, and when they can't, they'll cut ME down, instead. I'd rather live than die by association--" Miles tries to explain, but can't.

Afton sighed, ashamed that he ever actually loved him.
"Go. Get out of my sight..." He walked back into his house, leaving Miles devastated. Flo put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Miles, you made the right decision."

The AAA walked off, Miles took a minute to stare at Afton's front door.

"I'm sorry.." He whispered.

Then he turned back to follow the AAA, holding back tears.

He would, of course, come to regret this decision. He fucked over his beloved, and for what? A bunch of people who were either fucked up, very heinous, or miraculously SOMEWHAT sane? Don't get him wrong, he became friends with Long Long Man, and even knew Papa Louie for a short while even BEFORE AAA formed, but now he had to go and walk a manlet drug addict who was sobbing over a guy who was PRACTICALLY named after the first fucking letter? Yeah, he could barely stay sane during that time.

Spamtons head lifts from the table where the white powder is still spread out. He just had the wildest out of body experience. Next to him is Bill, already back to snorting cocaine. "Finally awake, eh?", he asks as Spamton looks at the clock. It's 1 am. He cries.

Chapter Text

Spamton was doing pretty well, and finally got hired. Specifically, for the new Menards ads, they apparently loved him saying,
"SAVE [Big KROMER] AT M3NARDS!"
He eventually went to get the morning coffee that was typically made before he got out of bed- at least Bill had the decency to do that. Must've been a good brand of coffee too, since it gave him a good kick that felt oddly familiar to him for some reason. But he always shrugged it off. Until now.

He had started noticing he started showing symptoms of a fever and getting sicker and sicker. He eventually drank a tiny bit of coffee, when he knew he really shouldn't have. That's when the realization kicked in. He searched the pantry, found a bag and it had a white powder inside that he was very familiar with several months ago. He collapsed.

Oh god Bill put cocaine in his coffee---

But-- why would he want to do that..?

FUCK.
Taking a breath (after getting up and making sure all the powdery shit was confined safely in its bag) Spamton tries to be responsible. He grabs it through the fabric of his sleeve, opens a window, and chucks it into the dumpster near enough to the house to throw.
He's gonna need to be careful now, and even still--
A harsh flash of pain pangs at his temple, and he tries not to double over. Fuck...

This is crazy! Just vile! LIKE WTF?? WHY WOULD HE DO THAT?!
And even though he spit out his coffee he can already feel how he's craving more. WHat if there's more in the house? What if Bill will try doing this shit again? What if he already did? Will he ever be safe again if an almighty being has it out for his sobriety?
Spamton rushes to the bathroom, pushing his fingers down his throat and tries to get out the tiny sip of coffee again.
He then lies down in his bed, exhausted and sick.
The next day he watches the news.

Then his guest room door slammed open.
"SO, you found the stuff, pixie stick?! Huh?!"
Spamton just had an expression of worry that showed he was in deep shit now.
"WELL TELL ME, SHORTIE! HOW WOULD YOU ENJOY BEING ALONE! TO BE DISCARDED BY EVERYONE YOU KNEW! TO BE LEFT FEELING LONELY!"
Spamton started trying to get away but Bill had practically blocked the door in front of him.
"I SAVED YOU OFF OF THE STREETS! YOU BASICALLY LIVED INSIDE OF A DUMPSTER YOU SNORTED COKE OFF, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO SOBER?! I MEAN- YOU COULD ALWAYS JUST GO BACK! WHO NEEDS THAT TWINK ANYWAY- OR YOUR BROTHER FOR THAT MATTER!? IT COULD JUST BE US HANGING OUT AS ALWAYS! WASN'T IT FUN AT LEAST FOR A WHILE?!"
Spamton literally couldn't handle this anymore, he decided to jump out of the window (thank god the guest room was on the first floor-) and got the fuck out of there, calling Z to come pick him up somewhere so he could get out of this shitty situation and maybe live with him for a while instead.

Bill had finally realized after this, that he is now truly alone, and the one thing he wishes for now was that he could take it all back.

But it's too late.

Chapter Text

When Bill and Will were dating, it really was tough. Bill was a controlling asshole who never let William live.

-You wanted to know what that was like, didn't you? before Miles, before Flo, this is what William Afton went through with Bill.-

Bill came home, drunk off his ass, to William watching tv. "Turn that shit off." He demanded, grabbing the remote from Will.

"No" Said Afton
"Not until you want to help me with my goals, Bill!"
"FUCK YOU, TWINK WANNABE!"

He threw his bottle of coca wine at Afton.

They would later forget about this interaction later that morning, since both of them were pricks when intoxicated and at least one of them at the time was a mega asshole when sober.

Which finally led to this, after all these years.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M GLAD YOU KILLED YOURSELF! MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A PIECE OF SHIT NONE OF THIS WOULD'VE HAPPENED! BUT NO, EVEN AFTER I REVIVED YOU, YOU WENT FOR THAT TWINK!"

"WELL MAYBE I WASN'T SO DRUNK OFF MY ASS THAT THERE WAS NO ASS TO SPEAK OFF--"

"WELL THAT'S JUST HYPOCRITICAL--"

"NOT WHEN I'VE BEEN SOBER FOR A WHILE, YOU TRIANGULAR DICK--"

"SOBER?? I SAW YOU SNORTING COCAINE OFF THAT BITCH’S ASS AT THAT PARTY WE WENT TO LAST WEEK-"

"THAT WAS ONCE! AND AT LEAST I'M GETTING TWINK ASS OTHER THAN YOU BILL!"

"OH, YOU THINK THAT WITHDRAWAL WILL MAKE ME APOLOGIZE FOR BEING TOO BUSY TO HELP YOU REACH YOUR STUPID AS SHIT GOALS?"

Bill turned into his human form (the hot one not the really bad canon one please) to try and win Will over.

Will grabbed his wrist.

"Nothing you say will ever make me want to help you take over the world, especially when your paradise is without me."

"Fine. We'll be equals."

"Should I trust that?"

Chapter Text

Afton, after shooting Bill in the head and finally killing him since he recently lost his immortality, was now able to mourn his now dead lover, he held him tightly as he sobbed. There was a candle burning bright, emitting smoke and the clouds appeared, which left him feeling like things may have already been late- too late- and that he may not be able to see his lover again.

The clouds sang.
"Youuu.. youuu... youuuuuuuu... are in luckkkk~"

The clouds surrounded Miles' body, as if this was a ritual.

Miles still layed there, dead, until the candle went out.

The clouds were gone.

Was this a fever dream...?

Then with Tinker Bell Disney Magic™, something happened...

Miles opened his eyes.

"Oh my god I think I just saw hell!", he said in one breath, then started coughing for a worrying amount of time.
"Miles", Afton whispered, getting Mile in a sideways position, so he doesn't choke on his own vomit should he throw up (I learned that in kindergarten and it WILL save your life someday (I will make sure of it))
"What happened? Did you see HER? In the afterlife?"
"Oh, WIlliam, I thought I went to heaven at first. THe gates, the ... clouds, but the good ones, you know? But then I saw the ONceler and honestly? After babysitting Spamton during his 'break-up phase' I can't stand the guy anymore."

"You understand why I offed him now?"
"Unfortunately. Don't tell Spamton I saw him?"
"Not if you don't." Afton agrees, tugging him close.

They kiss, holding onto each other finally happy to be together again.
"You know- I wonder-"
"Hm?" Asked Miles, confused.
"Actually- Never-mind. It probably doesn't matter now anyway. I'm just so... HAPPY to be with you for good."

Afton still couldn't help but wonder though... If the clouds just gave Miles immortality just now, will it still work? He's happy that his lover has been revived, so happy. But he just couldn't help but still wonder...

Oh well, it's not something to obsess about.

Chapter Text

"This is all your fault!" Flo accuses, crossing her arms as she huffs.

"My fault? How the fuck is this MY fault?" Bill CIpher asks, voice echoing in annoyance. "I didn't go steal someone else's car and drive it OVER A BRIDGE--"

"Well, how could you really expect me to live like that?" Flo snaps back. "Life's awful and something straight out of middle school geometry in both simplicity and attitude bitching at you constantly certainly doesn't help."

"-- to see my dead ex in the afterlife! Thank you for letting me speak you self-absorbed bitch", Bill finishes his sentence and he suddenly feels the strong urge to listen to "No Children" by the Mountain Goats.

"Oh, I'm the self-absorbed one? And while we're at it, who didn't get over fucking WIlliam Afton, tumblr's biggest whore even now?

This led to more bickering and eventually bottles of shitty Pasta Hell beer were thrown, they were getting drunk and tired from the same beer, and just like how they both felt when they first saw each other again in the afterlife, it left them with a stale, disgusting taste in their mouths.

They eventually decided to cut their losses and to just be roommates and live together, and basically still be pretty dysfunctional as one would think, as the two didn't like each other when living, and they very much don't like each other now. Yet, just like in life, they somehow decided it would be best to depend on each other, like toxic friends would when they shit talk the other constantly and yet still call themselves friends after everything and would go watch TV.

And honestly, Flo and Bill started to become--- friends-- they set aside their differences and focused on one thing, they were both exes of tumblr's most wanted (literally).

But Bill had a plan.... and Flo was just a piece of the puzzle, a stair on the staircase, a red herring...

Flo didn't matter to Bill.

What mattered was winning.

All Flo is to Bill is the cheap ace up his sleeve. A ladder rung. The first step of a staircase. The first page of a convoluted book. Convenient, sure, but not necessary. Pages can be crumpled or torn out, stairs collapse, wooden rungs rot. One could play fair in poker, or better yet, the casino could burn down. Yeah, the tool at use is destroyed, but who cares when all that matters is getting ahead?

And to Bill, all that matters is getting out of this literal hellhole.

Chapter Text

William can't stand these FUCKING DREAMS ANYMORE! Not only are there two trucks having sex, but they're playing SEXYBACK ON THEIR RADIO, BLARING IT! He maybe could've dealt with this dream if it was just the normal one as usual (if you can even call any of this normal!) but IT'S EVEN WORSE WITH SEXYBACK! He couldn't stand it, over killing Bill!

He reached into his pocket, and felt something.

It was a GUN!

Willam at this point has two options: 1 shoot himself to end the dream or 2 just accept his mind is a cluster fuck and his psyche is trying to tell him something. that maybe he is gay

HE IS SO FUCKING GAY JUST LIKE THE TRUCKS OPEN YOUR THIRD EYE MY DUDE YOU'RE A GAY ASS SLUT ACCEPT IT YOU LITTLE BITCH. YOU'RE AS TERRIBLE AS THAT MOTHERFUCK . WHO IS THAT FUCK? I HAVE NO CLUE, BUT YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS THEM. SUCK IT UP AND ADMIT IT. YOU'RE A DIRTY LITTLE HARLOT. A JEEZABEL. A WHORE. THAT YOU'RE Monique Gibeau in post-war France!

i-i don't wanna open my third eye anymore......

Who's holding the gun though? OH MY GOD IT'S PARTY POISON FROM THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PARTY POISON

Then he woke up.

Chapter Text

In a land, far before our time...
"Well, you are quite the charming man", she said, moving her fingers to grasp the teacup.
They are sitting in a cafe, a fine one at that. Considering his working space, one might have expected something cheaper.
"I hope so", he laughs and sends a smile her way.
A group of kindergartners walk down the sidewalk and both look in disgust. "Children..." she sighs and when she looks at him again, it is the moment she notices

William's face looks sadistic, murderous.
And that's when she realized they were perfect for each other.

They'd date for about a year, until suddenly, any trace of the Other Mother was gone.

But she was still alive, and she'd come back later- not too soon, but soon enough to make an impression on Will, and this new guy, Miles, was it?

She sighs, humming as she traced a needled hand over the spine of a book.

Well, not that Afton will know it yet.

Which, she supposes, adds to the fun.

Smiling, she tugs a book from the shelf, sitting down. This will be very fun indeed.

Chapter Text

Edna clears her throat with a pointed glare at her nephew, who kept kicking the table and humming his stupid little tune. He stops abruptly, ducking his head. Ridiculous how she had better control over Little Lad than her bother ever could. "Well, I'm glad we could make it all to dinner tonight. Someone finally fixed their priorities..."

"Well yes, it's very important that we meet and talk, dear sister--" Farquaad butts in, and Edna holds up a hand. "Just eat"

He scowled, but went on to eat. Meanwhile her nephew started on humming the same song that she has already heard over and over again, to the point it has gotten so repetitive and she could barely stand being near the manchild- well, really, manchildren, at the family reunion dinner.

She sighed, and went to cut the steak on her plate.

"So, how's business?", Farquaad attempts to start a conversation- again.
"Why would you want to know you barely passed elementary school math and never set foot into a business course in your lifetime."
The "child" started humming again.
"Berries and Cream- Berries and Cream! Auntie, what's for dessert?"
The doorbell rings again.

Whoever that was is definitely late. They were supposed to show up at 6:34 pm EXACTLY.
And the doorbell rings... at 6:35....

She sighs, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. "Give me just a moment," She says, before hopping of her chair, heading to the entrance. This person had the courtesy not to repetitively ring, at least. The rain becomes audible as she enters the foyer, and she opens the door, only to find a soaked Wonka standing there nervously.

"Sorry I- I-m late." He says nervously, wringing his hands.

"I thought you weren't coming out at all! What's the meaning of this? Normally you at least show up with a warning. Did something happen?" She asks, sighing as she pulls a towel from a cabinet under the entrance table. "Dry yourself off. The fabric could shrink."

"Well, I-- You know, I was doing things for work, and my one business partner didn't show... So I uh-- I- I had to close up by myself, and since we clearly weren't going to get dinner since he wasn't there I figured I'd stop by! I can- I can leave, though..." He says, attempting to blot off the water from his face as puddle pull on the floormat.

"No, No, there's no point in that... We didn't start eating yet, come join."

Chapter Text

"What are you-" William pauses, tense as he steps in front of Miles. "You're still alive? You- no, you just disappeared one day, thought maybe someone-"

"Oh, killed me? finally figured it out? I know that's what you're hoping for, but no." The other mother says, button eyes staring him down. "And now you have this one..."

Well shitballs, suck his dick and call him daddy because he is FUCKED right now, surely.

The other mother grabbed her knife, swinging it at Afton. He grabbed Miles' hand and ran with him. The other mother was following close behind, but they needed help, maybe from Long Long Man?

Chapter Text

Afton had no clue he would ever see her again- let alone- like THIS. He thought she probably died in a ditch somewhere a year ago or so but nope! She's here in the flesh, or whatever the hell she is made out of anyway.

She went and basically tried killing Miles, which left him to have to get the fuck away from Other Mother and take Miles to the hospital.

Which is where they are right now.

"Miles- I'm so sorry-"
He was apologizing to Miles, who was currently unconscious and bleeding out IMMENSELY. Honestly, it was a shocker to the doctors top how the fuck Miles is even still alive with his injuries.

That thought came up again in Will's mind, but he shoved it aside for now.

Miles was in pain, for sure, but it was also a shock to him. How the fuck IS he alive???

Afton was panicking, scared that he WILL die within the next hour lol

Maybe the whole immortality thing really was-
No! He couldn't glue himself to that thought like a stain of blue tack. Otherwise he'd start taking Miles injuries lightly. And they were everything but light.
He needed to refocus his mind while Miles was in this state. SO instead of thinking about his husband DYING, he started making plans to kill the Other Mother, starting with simply pointing a gun to her head (like Miles had done with him not too long ago..) to Saw-like torture scenarios.

The bitch liked pain though, fuckkkkkkkk--
Afton bites his lip anxiously as he thinks, torn. Maybe look her in a box for years? Making her suffer insanity? Though that THING of a person is looney already...

He sighs, taking a breath to coax his brain to slow for a moment. Looking over at Miles, unconscious, heart monitor SOMEHOW steady-- he shakily reaches out a hand to set atop of his husband's. It's cold. Concerningly so.

His eyes dart to the monitor again. What's the average human bpm? 70? 100? 120? He has no idea. It's been too long since he's had to worry about that, himself. He hasn't been in a hospital for Decades now.

Then Miles shot forwards from the contact, eyes wide.

This is honestly quite a shock to Afton.

"Oh, th-thank GOD you're okay, Miles!"

He reaches out and hugs his husband tightly, just happy to see him conscious and ALIVE!"

"H-how long was I out for, Will?"

"A few hours! We all didn't think you'd make it! Are you in pain?"

There was a silence, almost as if Miles just realized something.

"I mean, a BIT. Not much?"

He couldn't help but just look at the gash in his chest, kind of shocked that he barely felt much of this.

"Did they give me meds for it, or?"

Afton had to admit, this is quite shocking because no, they didn't actually give him pain medication for this. This... whole thing is so odd...

"No, they haven't, actually..."

A doctor just so happened to look at the room, and rushed in there alongside other doctors to take more notes and care about this whole situation.

Everyone had to admit this was a really fucking weird scenario.

Chapter Text

Wonka sits across the table from Long Long Man.

"Care for some tea?" Wonka asks.

"Sure..." Long says.

They had been staring at eachother for a good hour, unsure what to say.

They were both so in love with eachother, yet neither one of the two knew the other was in love.

That lasted for weeks on end..

"I... I like your suit", Wonka says, while getting the kettle and heating the water.
Long looks down on himself and knits his eyebrows ever so slightly.
"Thanks you", he tells his (business) partner then, "although I'm wearing it rather frequently. Doesn't it get boring to you?"
Wonka stars at him for another solid minute, the awkwardness in the air thickening.
Suddenly he yells "No!" as if slipping out of a trance.
"You could never!"

Thankfully, Long doesn't flinch at the suddenness, having encountered many a client for therapy, and well--he's met Spamton. "...I could never what?"

"Be boring. Look at you!" Wonka seems to force out, waving his hands about as he speaks. "You're so... you!"

"I'm a therapist and candymaker who wears a grey suit on the regular?"

"And that's what makes you so interesting! i have never thought of someone having BOTH of those professions before and simultaneously dressing so serious with being a candymaker!"
Long Long Man nodded, having to admit he did have a BIT of a point there.

Long sighed. "I guess so--"

They were both silent yet again.

Wonka and Long sat there, sipping tea, just- staring at eachother.

Wonka, in that moment, imagined Long walking up to him, kissing him. That thought made him hide his face with his hand.

"Are you alright?" Long asked, worried.

"Yeah--- I--- just-- need a second--" Wonka rushed off to the restroom, closing and locking the door, sitting in the bathtub with his knees to his chest, trying to slow his breathing.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

"So, what's this about your business partner? Didn't you say you met him through... therapy?"
Edna asked Wonka. Honestly, she's starting to question his current life choices. Thank God Vanessa isn't here, she would probably try coddling him about this whole situation rather than trying to get everything about this... well, she would say straight but she doesn't feel like that's the right word for this. Perhaps, "correct" would be the better word for what she's trying to get at here.

Wonk sighed "Yeah... he.. was my therapist--" He stuttered out, looking at the floor, unsure what he should really say.

"Ahhh- well it's a good thing you two clicked- some therapists don't really get along with their clients.... and it shows...." Edna spoke.

"Uh, actually", Wonka started, "he's not my therapist anymore..."
Edna raised her eyebrows. "How is that?", she asked.
"You see-" How the FUCK was Wonka supposed to explain this? That he got another (worse, but not by far) therapist because he and his old one started to become so good "friends" that they decided to fuse their candy empires with the extra benefit of fucking now and then (god, they weren't lying about him being the Long Long Man)? Additionally to him being utterly in love with his best friend now

"No, darling. I do NOT see. All I see is you sitting here, mopping and looking all pathetic like a cat in the rain!" Edna says, exasperated, flailing her arms about in frustration as she speaks. "Now what is it?" She continues, voice softening.

"Well uh... we decided to merge businesses after a while. He also is a candymaker, and we got along, so--"

"So did he start money laundering? Stealing your profits? Do I need to tear out his spine and make it into a cane?"

"No, no, Auntie it's-- it's not that. Nothing like that..."

"Then what is it?"

"Well-"
He took a deep breath, before continuing,
"We got along really well- perhaps too well- and it resulted in us doing the uh- you know..."

"No, I do not know, darling, explain."

"... The deed."

There was a good moment of silence that lasted about 15 seconds, but felt like an eternity to Wonka. Then, she finally decided to say what she really had left to say about this.

"Wonka, you're a dumbass. You're in love, darling."
She stated plainly.

His jaw dropped.

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth got the new Frogger game, and he played it every single day. Every minute was just... frogger. And he loved the game. He constantly tried to pass his high score, and he did every day he played. This became a problem, an addiction....

He couldn't look away from the screen. It hurt him, to be away for more than 20 minutes, and the only way he slept was with his eyes open. His fingers constantly moving as he played the game, level after level... It hurt to look away, to blink, to pause. He had to keep playing, it hurt not to. When he ate, or took a drink of water, his head started pounding from the withdrawal, his mind begging him to return to the source of the dopamine.
He doesn't want to stop.
He won't stop.
He can't stop.
Why can't he stop?

So, he plays.

"Miles, I've decided to stage an intervention", his husband told him after he had not slept for weeks and quite frankly looked more dead than Afton after dying ten times.
Edgeworth glanced into his general direction, trying not to get too distracted from the game.
"I know", Afton admitted, " that this would probably be a lot more impactful if any of us had any friends that would help me intervene, but we're very fucking unliked, sooo..."
"Uh huh", Edgeworth nodded, but he honestly stopped listening.
"Well, Sans will come by soon to help-"
"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!! FUUCKING SHITBALLS!!! SUCK HIS FUCKING DICK AND CALL HIM FUCKING DADDY YOU DID IT AGAIN WILLLIAM I FUCKING LOST LAST FUCKING MINUTE FUCK YOU!!!!""

Yeah, Edgeworth fucking snapped. I should stop making every second word fuck. Anyways-

Afton had to send Miles to a rehab to get better, which he had gotten numerous phone calls that they were concerned about him acting like a meth-head and he had to make clear that no, his husband has never done meth, and that he is in fact addicted to playing frogger and needs to be away from it for a long while.

He also hid his game away and considered selling it to someone since he doesn't want his lovely husband to have a relapse.

And Miles never relapsed, he and his husband lived together happily, until the AAA came back....

fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk....

Chapter Text

Edna looked at the display in her nephew's new store slightly dismayed. He had always been of the creative kind and the sweets in the store were proof of that, but she found the man behind the counter somewhat off.
Not that he was off himself, far from it, but he seemed more than just out of place in a store like this. The frilly and colorful was not his style, he wore a plain black suit and was far less eccentric than his business partner.

That was simply unacceptable. It wouldn't do. It was a disgrace to fashion, and something was clearly wrong. sighing, she opened up the door, walking in.

"Oh God, do you have any idea how out of place you are working here wearing... that."
Edna said, critiquing his fashion style while working.
"I would've thought you would've at least had a uniform of some kind that would be more fitting, but this won't do at all I'm afraid! My nephew deserves the best when it comes to how his store and workers look while on duty."
The man just looked at her confused for a while, then finally opened his mouth to respond.

"Um-- and--- who are you again?" he said.

"Darling, I'm Edna!" She smiled, climbing a ladder so that she had eye contact with the man. (you do NOT look down on Edna, no no no no noooooooooooooooo)

"Ah-- I remember Wonka speaking about you---" Long said.

"Apparently not about the important things", she told him, hands flinging around wildly, before neatly fitting into her signature position again. "Like this!" She gestured at his suit in disgust.
"Well, he told me", Long was about to say, but Edna interrupted him. "No control over his employees. Of course not. The boy is too soft."
Long had to close his eyes for a second and let out a long looooong breath.
"Employee?", he asked.
"Well obviously you do not belong at the top of such a store, darling", Edna said, scoffing while Long had to dodge her hand, before she would accidentally slap him.
"I do, actually", Long Long Man told her, looking her directly into the eyes. "I'm not his employee, but his partner."
Edna's eyes narrow.

Chapter Text

"He... He uh-- He told me my suit was nice, by the way--" Long Long Man squeaks under the scrutinizing gaze.

"You." Edna says, one hand grabbing the ladder rung so she could safely lean closer to his face.

His blood ran cold with terror.

"Do you know how much grief you've caused that boy!?!?! Oh, He's been moping for WEEKS because suddenly you start IGNORING him and taking separate shifts. HE CAN'T HANDLE THAT–"

Long Long Man just spluttered a bit at this, looking shocked and trying his best to avoid making eye contact, darting his eyes anywhere that wasn't at her. That's when an idea popped into his head.

"Uh- I'm getting a phone call!"

She just looked at him with scrutinizing eyes, before saying,

"Fine."

He quickly called Wonka.

"Wonka! Your aunt is here!"

"Her--? W-what did she say?!" he spoke- very, VERY nervous.

"Uhmmmm..... just--- please come here---" Long spoke, panicked.

"Okay--- I will--" Wonka ended the call and IMMEDIATELY drove off to the store.

Edna snapped her fingers, as Long turned around. "Hm...?" He spoke, very scared of this woman.

"As I said, 'darling'", Edna continued, "you have the gall to take him out and get into bed with him, toying with his fragile heart and then act like you are merely friends and nothing happened between the two of you! I will not let that continue, do you hear me!" Her hands almost fling into Longs face again.
"I- 'toying with his heart'?" Long asked. "He barely even tolerated me in his house!" Well, admittedly because of his germaphobia.
"And he's not acting like we're-"
"Oh, stop your excuses!", Edna shushed him. "As I said, I will not let this continue. You better get away from my boy for good or-"
"Aunt!" Wonka stood in the door frame of the shop. "What are you doing with my - my- partner"

She pauses, turning. She seems unsure how to respond, gaze flitting between the two candymakers. Rather softly for Wonka, Long notes, before the glance he receives is sharper than broken glass. She sighs, leaning back towards the ladder, before standing on it normally. "I simply had some words for him, darling," She says, tilting her head slightly as she speaks. It's odd seeing the person who taught Wonka his little ticks and movements, and seeing how differently they act.

"Yeah, well uh-- please don't yell at him. I can tell you don't really like him at the moment, but can we not have a yelling match? Please? ...You know how I feel about those." He says nervously, flinching slightly at the last bit.

Chapter Text

The entire store goes silent for a moment, the only sound being a squeak committed from Wonka's gloves as he anxiously balls his hands, standing in the doorway.

Edna lets out the quietest of sighs from her nose. "I won't yell, darling. I--" She pauses, before ducking her head as she stands there, thinking. "I just didn't want you to get hurt, and--" She stops, going silent again.

They were all kind of there, and while Long is VERY happy with not dealing with anymore confrontation, it's just REALLY awkward now. Seemingly no one knows what to say at this point- at least, he knows that HE doesn't know what to say at this point, so he just kind of waits and hopes someone will have something to say.

Then Wonka spoke.

"U-uh, if it's about his suit-"

"Yes, yes, he told me you like the suit. DESPITE it being very out of place."

"Yeah", Wonka says and quiets again. He looks around with his eyes wide as always while trying to think about a proper way to continue the conversation.
Edna shakes her head. Then she seems to realize something.
"CHild, Darling, have you never told him anything aside that?", she questions.
"Excuse me", Long steps into the conversation again. "I'll have you know that we talk about a lot of things."
"Indeed" Wonka whispers.

Chapter Text

"Ah, well then--" Edna starts, turning on the ladder. "I should... Probably go." She says, climbing down the ladder. "Apologies for any disruptions and the like, you know. I'm not normally like that." She reaches the floor and begins walking towards the entrance, pause to reach up a hand ad reassuringly tap Wonka's fingers. "Sorry, Darling," she says, before leaving the shop quietly.

Well shit, suck their dicks and call them both daddy because WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED???

"Uh, guess I'll just get back to work then?"

"Wait actually, I think we should, um, perhaps have a talk about all of this."

Wonka said, kind of motioning his hands in a way between the both of them to emphasize the "this". He proceeded to say,

"Uh, I- I-"

He's really trying here

"Or not", Wonka told him, ready to turn on his heels. "My aunt and me might have one thing or two to talk about."
"Well, you certainly do", Long said. "But we should probably have a talk as soon as possible as well, so-"
"Yes, but I reckon you certainly don't want to right now." Wonka smiled.
"This was probably stressful to you, so..."

"Soooo-- not right now.... maybe--- tonight??" Wonka asked.

"Yeah-- sure-" Long said. "Did you want me to go to your place?"

"Yeah--" Wonka said, and then they went back to work.

Long was still a bit put off from his talk with Edna. What if what he was doing wasn't enough....

He shakes his head. No. that's just the classic over-inflation of ideas one's brain runs through. It's overthinking. Totally normal. He's-- he's fine.

Surely, he's doing enough.
right?
Yeah, hopefully.

Long is caught up in his thoughts enough that he doesn't notice how shakey Wonka seems as he goes about with his work, too.

Chapter Text

Long Long Man was getting a lot of phone calls from William on a late afternoon, almost like it was urgent. As much as he cares about Miles, he is too busy to talk to the both of them right now.

He proceeded to go on the pedestal and start talking for Bill's open casket. A few people were there, like Jesse Pinkman and a few people from AAA, but mostly everyone didn't attend Bill's funeral. Really, he isn't even here because HE cares about Bill anymore. He just needs to talk about his experience with him and move on from this.

"Bill he was- well, he was immortal at some point so you could imagine my shock finding out he actually paid for a funeral himself IF he did. Probably did it as a joke, honestly."

He went on.

"But--- Bill actually--- died--- somehow--?"

The clouds appeared, giving some shade over Long's head.

"Youuuu... youuu..... youuuuuuuuuuu..... got robbeddddddddddd~~~ ....................................... of your immortality."

The crowd gasped.

"HOLY WALTER WHITE!!!" Jesse exclaimed.

"Immortality?" Long Long Man asks, confused.

"Nooooo, nooooo, nahhhhhhh, dumbfuck!~ Himmmmmmmmmm~" The clouds sing, gesturing towards the casket.

"Oh."

"Dumbbbbfuck!!!!!!" One of the clouds sings again.

"Well", Long tries to continue, looking at the crowd. He starts fidgeting slightly, before firmly pressing his hands to his sides.
"That was crazy, yo!", Jesse yells and takes another hit.
"What I gather from that", Long says and takes another deep breath, "is that Bill got robbed of his immortality and that is a deeply disturbing thing to happen, I'm sure. Only slightly more disturbing than he himself- I mean, his abilities, uh-
He was an immortal god, so that certainly", he laughs awkwardly, "you wouldn't expect a guy like him to be your neighbor, would you?"
Long notices that he is fidgeting again.
"Bill and I knew each other for a long time. He had always been a good friend. Well", long pauses, "until recently at least-

"You see," He added,
"He kind of had an issue with an ex of his. An ex who was also MY ex, and some of the people here are also exes of the dude I'm talking about, right?"

A couple of people raised their hands as if to say, "Yep."

"Well- yeah. So as some of you know, he became the leader of the Anti-Afton Army. Unfortunately, it took a toll on his well… yeah, his mental wellness. He became so toxic to everyone, and I guess finally decided to be seen as what he was: A God. But I guess even being THAT didn't save him from this..."

He paused for a while, looking at everyone in the room, before adding.

"You know, he used to actually be pretty alright, for the most part at least. He... still had his issues, tried doing drugs to get rid of the memories of awful shit he did in his past, but he did seem to want to do better than he did before... I guess becoming obsessed with anything just makes someone become worse, usually..."

"... I remember he used to actually take more of my advice, too. Then he kind of dated my ex and that's when we had our first issue that appeared, but I shrugged it off at the time. I think I shouldn't have, now that everything has happened. I don't like the guy, and I know it isn't my fault that he has done some terrible things that I can't really talk about here since thaaaat's between me and a client. But I hope he thinks about what he has done, and introspects, now that he's gone."

He went off the pedestal and closed the casket.

Meanwhile, Bill was yelling about Spamton leaving him the day before his death.

Chapter Text

Wonka was sitting in the bathtub for a few hours now, after a while he finally got the courage to get up and face Long.

He needed to tell Long that he was in love with him, and that he wanted Long more than anything else in the world.

He was desperate for Long.

And he finally walked up to long, who was sitting there with his tea.

"Long.... I'm in love with you-" Wonka finally stuttered out.

Long heard Wonka behind him and spit out his tea out of reflex. (Top ten most epic spit takes)
"Oh, well, excuse me then", WOnka said and turned around again to walk away and never talk to Long again. He'd get his lawyer that his rich ass family could afford to do that when they split their business. Or his aunt Edna.
"Willy, where are you going", Long called after him and almost stumbled over several tings that didn't evev lie in his way.
He gestured to the table. "Would you uh- care to elaborate on that?"
Wonka stared at the chairs, then forced a smile.

Dear God, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, have mercy on these idiots.

"I-- I don't really know what to-- what to say. Is there something I'm supposed to say?" He asks, looking back over.

"Well there's, nothing you technically HAVE to say, but it just seemed... sudden." Long says softly, in an attempt to be reassuring.

"I guess it is sudden... but uhm..... well-- what do you think..?" Wonk said, a little out of it.

"Well-- I could show you~"

Long kissed Wonka, Wonka was a bit taken aback, not expecting Long to have *any* feelings for him, especially love..

After a while they pulled away, Wonk against the wall, Long just barely 2 inches away. "Is that why you were so distant?" Long asked.

"Yeah-" Wonk replied, looking away.

Long turned Wonka's head to face him.

"Well.... maybe it'll help if we went further...?" Long said, smirking. (omg Long tops?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!)

"I'd--- be very happy-- with that-" Wonk replied, quite flustered still.

Then they fucked
in the kitchen

and for the first time, Long didn't have to bathe in disinfectant.

Chapter Text

Vector walks up to the building begrudgingly, posture terrible as he opens the door and walks inside. Unfortunately, his father is forcing him to attend for something like a "video game addiction". Him? Addicted? As if. He cocks his squid blaster as he walks down a hallway to the current meeting room.

God, what he'd do to play some CSGO right now instead of being stuck here. He goes into the room filled with other "addicts" like him and he sees a familiar face. That's when he quickly took a seat next to him and said,
"HI! I'M VEEECTOOOOR!"

Miles was about ready to lose his shit again at this, but it probably wouldn't look so well to yell at this man-child in front of everyone seated around this circle of chairs, so he does the next best thing: To act like he has never met this person before in his life and that he's just some sort of psycho.

Eventually Vector repeated, "I'M VECTOR" over and over again to the point everyone had enough of his shit.

Miles had finally fully lost it at this kid. He stood up, grabbing VECTOR!'s wrist and throwing him to the floor, repeatedly punching and kicking at him. The staff had to hold him back, as Miles was insulting him very, VERY loudly.

"OH NOOO!" VECTOR! yelled, his catchphrase turning into a negative one for comedic purposes (please laugh).

Verosika lit a cigarette.

Edgeworth was cursing himself a few days later. He had lost his cool and shouldn't have, simple as that. Now, not only would he proceed to visit his group for Video Game Addicts, he was also forced to go to meetings for people with violent and aggressive tendencies. Luckily that little fuck would not be able to follow him-
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Edgeworth called out with a slightly british accent that he adopted from his husband.
"WHY THE FUCK-" He took some deep breaths to calm himself at least slightly. Oh no. Everyone in the room was already fucking staring at him.
"Hi, I'm Vectorrr!", a still slightly bruised man-child in an orange tracksuit introduced himself.
"My dad thinks playing CSGO is making me violent, so I have to attend these meetings now. By the way, I'm Vectorrrr!"
Edgeworth could already feel his consciousness slipping away.
Oh god no-

He sighs, sitting in a chair that he could ignore Vector from. Very difficult when there's a circle of them, but he manages. Mostly.

He didn't tear out any spines by the end of the meeting, but as he walks out, VECTORRRRRE! follows. "I'm Vectorrrr..." He says, creeping up on Edgeworth before narrowly dodging a reflexive swing.

"Next one actually hits you," Miles warns, completely done as he walks out to his car. The Kid apparently doesn't get the hint, still following.

Miles gets into his car, and before he can lock the doors, VECTORRRR! opens it. Fuck.
"Sick ride. I like it." VECTORRR! says. "By the way, I'm VEC-TORRRRR! OH YEAH!"

Chapter Text

"Have Fun, Darling", Miles husband calls after him as he leaves the car for his second group therapy this week. He really shouldn't have beaten up that kid. Then again, just thinking about his hideous tracksuit and squid cannon are making Miles blood boil.
"Sure", he tells William and enters the building. When he gets to the buffet at the entrance, Vector is already there, introducing himself AGAIN to all the people who still know him from last week. Oh yes, they know him. Hard not to remember a guy like that.
Miles tries to sneak around Vect

But unfortunately, he's been spotted, the man-child turning to "greet" him. So instead, he jams his fingers into his ears, completely panicking.

"HI! I'M VECTOR!"

Everyone- including Miles, just sighed in frustration.

Then Verosika went and kicked Vector's tiny dick, causing everyone to follow suit and start kicking him while he was down.

Including Spamton, who Miles didn't even realize was attending rehab again. He thought he was doing quite well, too. He'll have to ask about it later.

For now, everyone in that room, except for VECTOR! OH YEAAAH! Had to also go and get help with aggression and violence issues as well, which at least made Miles feel slightly better about this whole situation. Well, that and Vector is now in a full body cast and has to wear a cone now around his head so he and everyone else won't be seeing him for at LEAST a good month or so because of the damage they all did to his body. OH YEAAAH!

Miles was grateful that he wouldn't see Vector for a while, and he was even more grateful that he got out of rehab just before VECTORRRRRRR! OH YEAHHHHH! could get back.

Afton never really.. met.. Vector-- but from his Husband's rants, Afton didn't want to, unless he had a gun with him.

Afton never wanted to kill a man more....

"I can't, William", Edgeworth finally told him when Afton was about to drop him off at one of his many meetings again. "He- the gay (this is the second time I accidentally write gay instead of guy and I'm leaving it like that)- guy-"
"Vector?", Afton asked. Miles shuddered.
"Yes, him."
They sat in the car for a minute while Edgeworth tried to calm himself down.
"Should I come with you?", Afton asked at last and Edgeworth nodded.
They got out of the car together and to the meeting, where Vector- do I really need to tell you what he did?
"Hi, I'm VECTORRRR OH YEAH!", he said walking up to Afton, whose fist was already clenching.
"Hey, look at my-"
Afton kicked his ass. Next meeting he was sitting right next to his husband...

Chapter Text

Afton sighed. It's been a while since he's committed a murder, And Vector seemed like the perfect target... to resolve that crave for blood. Afton missed seeing people struggle and die right in front of him, so he kept that feeling in mind as he approached VECTOR!'s huge ass house.

He was approaching one of the huge ass windows when suddenly the lights around the house turned on and a giant boxing glove that came from the ground punched him right in front of the main entrance.
Afton heard the doorbell go off and a few moments later the door was opened by
"Hey, I'm VECTORRRRRRR!!!!! Oh yeah!"
"Oh no", Afton sighed, before he stood up and hid his knife.
"Well, hello-"
"VEctorr!!!! Oh yeah!!!", Vector completed his sentence.

Afton was internally losing his fucking shit oh my god he knows why his husband can't stand this fucking man-child-

He's tempted to grab him right then and there, stab him in the throat and watch the light drain from his eyes.

But he pauses, looking into the house.

Oh my fucking god, he's fucking rich. Afton realized that there's a better way to do this.

So he kidnapped Vector and trapped the dude in his basement.

He's gonna torture the money right outta him.

Chapter Text

Bill and Flo were watching TV in Pasta Hell, mostly because they had nothing better to do. Then they randomly saw an interview by someone called Mr. Capgras, and they were bored as well.. yeah, so they decided to watch it.

Only to see a familiar someone.

"So!" Said Mr. Capgras.
"What made you decide to get better after drug abuse?"

"WELL MY [Blood Related Someones] WERE [Concerning] ABOUT HOW I WAS DOING, AND I DID SOME [God No] THINGS [Prior] SO I JUST WANTED TO GET BETTER FOR THEM!”

"Well that's good! So tell me, would you say you're trying to replace yourself by doing this?"

"I AM ALWAYS [you're trying to replace yourself] FOR THE BETTER. IF WE DID NOT [new you just $4.99, call now!] WE WOULD NOT LEARN FROM OUR [please no, what are you doing?] OR [change] FOR THE BETTER!"
"But", Mr. Capgras continued, "do you think you fundamentally changed as a person? I mean, what you say and what you do, are those things really you?"
He paused for a moment.
"And if not, then what is?"
"A VERY [well thought of] QUESTION", Spamton said.

"I'd [statement] that I've [stayedthesamealwwaysthesamei'mtrappedhelpsamesamesamesame-] a fair bit. My life has turned [No, no why did I-] after quite a few [terrifying] events, but I have [broken free from this prison, keys for 4.99] after hard work. But I will [never, nonono not ever] be the same. It's been [too much for your small brain to handle]"

"Fascinating answer, now, would you tell me--"

A fist goes through the screen.

Chapter Text

Spamton was sitting in the studio, being interviewed by the renowned Mr. Capgras, aka. Not-William Woodson aka WOn't Stone, a man who he considers to be his complete opposite at the moment, because contrary to his name, the man does stone. A lot. (Spamton had witnessed it in the backrooms and man he had never been out of anywhere faster (aside from that one time with Bill...(omg that sounds so sus, continue)))

"Now, would you care to tell me: What is *is*?"

"I AM [unsure what] THAT MEANS. IT MAY JUST BE A [filler word] OR POSSIBLY A [lost connection oh no I miss him]"

"So you're saying it's just a part of language?"

"YES"

"Well, that's boring. I might as well bash my head on the kitchen floor."

Spamton winces at the connotations, and the memory of his face hitting tile. Not fun.

"MAYBE [don't]" Spamton sighed.

"You're right... that would be a lot of blood, blood, gallons of the stuff--- (wait what I'm not Gerard Way--)" Won't Stone sighed.

"Anyway, I was told you had an ex? Well, an ex FRIEND I should say." He added.
"Now, tell me, I heard he was almost like a God, what was his name- Bill? What was your experience having to talk to this god-like creature?"

Despite Bill punching the TV, it kept playing the audio and just had a cracked screen now. He was fuming.

"OH? SO NOW HE'S GOING TO SHIT TALK ME WHILE I'M IN THE GROUND?! JEEZ, WHAT A FRIEND!"

Flo just winced at Bill and this whole situation and kept mostly quiet while thinking, "Man, what a psycho." Like everything she did prior in her life and well, unlife, was okay.

"HE [Mistreated His Friends!] I USED TO BE [Near] THE GUY, [Not Commit Die] WITH HIM AND TURNS OUT HE JUST SAW ME AS A [Got Leeches? We Have Just The Thing!] HE HAD AN ISSUE WITH MY {Sobriety Lifestyle] SO HE TRIED TO MAKE ME [Not Good At All]!

"Wow", Mr. Capgras remarks. "And to think that this man almost took over our world in 2012 (-2016), when he seems most unstable. Tell me, what was the most atrocious thing he has ever done to you? That man must have been a total nutcase, so you gotta give us some details!"
Spamton looks taken aback a little. This is an obvious ploy to get people to watch the show for the pure drama reality tv usually offers.
"Good, you little shit", Bill mutters when he notices Spamton struggling with an answer.
"HE- HE PRETENDED TO BE MY [I will always be there for you!) AND I [honest to god] THOUGHT HE WAS, BUT IN THE [I needed you most, where are you?] HE WAS [lost] AND [stabbed me in the back with a (metaphorical) knife ten times] BY DRUGGING ME-"
A tear rolls down behind his glasses. "I JUST EXPECTED

Chapter Text

Please Phoebe take my offering

Spamton was in the car, driving along a road at night.
Well, technically Bill was the one driving and Spamton was merely next to the driver's seat, his seatbelt not buckled and sweat running down his back.
He was tired, despite having been asleep. Spamton kicked around some trash when moving his legs to get into an upright position.

It was awful in this car. Stuffy, hot, overwhelmingly quiet after Bill broke the stereo during an outburst a month or so back, and tense.

He didn't feel safe, but granted, when did he ever?
Spamton represses a sigh, trying to remain quiet. Bill didn't seem to be in a good mood, swearing quietly. He wasn't ever in a good mood either, Spamton supposes. Some constants of life are fucked.

Spamton was walking around a road. Huh. He just realized he didn't remember any of this before until now. He can't help but wonder what else he may be missing.

Eventually when Z dropped him off to rehab, since he has been out of control with his mood since THE INCIDENT, he ended up attending another rehab center.

He went there for a while, and saw that VEROSIKA WAS CLEARLY THERE AND HATED HIM AS USUAL, LIKE SHE DID THE FIRST TIME SHE MET HIM, FOR SOME REASON! Anyway, he also realized at some point Miles was there, but he decided to not talk to him until he was approached.

"So, uh, Spamton-"

Spamton just looked at him a tad confused.

"I thought you were doing better, what happened?"

Spamton just looked pissed for a moment, not because of Miles, but because of what that reminded him of.

"BILL."

"Oh. By the way, what was up with you a couple months ago?"

"WHAT ARE YOU [Implying]"

"Well-"

Chapter Text

"Well-"

Spamton asked Bill to go back to his brother's house.

"No, I think I got a better idea of who we should apologize to."

It was 2 AM in the morning when Bill parked his car on Miles lawn and started yelling false apologies in front of Miles home loudly, with Spamton trying to apologize for real with being involved with Afton's death.

"I'M SO [Please forgive me!]

"YEAH, WE'RE JUST SO SORRY YOUR LOUSY HUSBAND KILLED HIMSELF! MAYBE HE SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SUCH A PIECE OF SHIT IN HIS LIFE!"

Miles just looked disappointed at them before they drove away.

Smh imagine being so rude to someone who just lost the love of their life due to suicide. Fucking awful, Bill, get a fucking life. Actually no, I hope a tree falls on you, and it's on fire, and there are 30 venomous snakes biting your ass, I hope you're not a masochist too (even though I know you are, and that fucking sucks.) I hope you suffer, Bill.

Honestly, Bill was his victim imo so idk kinda based not that he's a good person, but still

Anyways.
"HOLY [Cungadero] MY FRIEND I JUST [remind myself] THAT I STILL HAVE TO [plead for forgiveness] FROM SOMEONE I [dearly hurt]", Spamton told Bill in the car mere minutes later.
"Lol reminds me how we showed up at your brothers house for like the tenth time this week yesterday, are we gonna go to Edgeworth's again?", Bill asked.
"AGAIN?" Spamton was unsure of what that meant but several minutes later he was passed out in the car while Bill was on Edgeworth’s lawn again screaming stuff like:
"I AM SOOO DREADFULLY SORRY FOR FUCKING YOUR WORTHLESS AS FUCK HUSBAND AT ALL!!! SORRY YOU DID TOO!"

Right when Bill saw Miles pull out his phone did he haul ass with his car. Inter-dimensional God-demon thing, sure, but he still can't escape the police!

Afterward, they decided to pay a visit to Long Long Man and apologize. For what? No fucking clue, neither of them knew what they planned on apologizing for either and it led to them basically eating all the food in his fridge, the cabinets, you name it. It was fucking GONE!

"Wait- we don't have to wait for Long to get back, I got a better solution!"

Bill went through Long's closet and found his everyday clothes, and some of Wonka's too, surprisingly enough. He wore Long's clothes while Spamton wore Wonka's that very clearly didn't fit him.

"Okay! Spamton! It's time for you to apologize to me."

"FOR [What are you even saying?] WHO EVEN ARE [Who am I? WHO AM I?!]"

"Whoever you want!"

Then Long Long Man and Wonka ended up entering the room.

"Uh- why are you guys dressed as us?"

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Chapter Text

Long Long Man and Wonka were just standing there waiting for a reply to their question. Instead, Bill yelled loudly,

"OH SHIT THEY'RE ONTO US SPAMTON! RUUUUUN!"

Bill shoved Wonka out of the way while they scrammed out of Long's house, causing Wonka to fall over on his ass in the process.

Bill and Spamton proceeded to break into random homes for a while, eat food, before at some point they eventually settled into a hotel for a short amount of time.

Spamton just remembered all of this while Miles explained to him what he remembered him doing with the apology thing.

"HOLY [Cungadero]! I'M-"

"No more apologies please!"

"BUT I COMMITTED [why did i do that nonono why did i--] THINGS--"

"Yes, but you've apologized several times by now."

Spamton had to sit down for a minute.
"THIS IS [nonononononononononononononono] HOW WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO [I can't make amends for things I can't remember]"
Miles looked at him unsure of what to say.
"Well, as I said, apologizing isn't the way. Especially after all the ones you did while being high af."
"I AGREE THAT WASN'T VERY [nice] OF ME"; Spamton admitted.

Have you gotten Nord VPN yet..? No??

Well-

no. stop. no more ads. please. i need to escape. i hate being here. i hate this story. i know you're the one writing. please. write my escape. before he hurts me.

please.

Nord VPN is {NOOOO} a virtual {LET ME OUT. LET ME GO} private network...

An error has occurred

fwfnwriter.exe needs to reboot.

booting up.....

complete.

Bill sighed, getting in the car, getting ready for another round of insults.

Eventually Spamton did get to his brothers house and apologize appropriately and this is a fucking FLASHBACK!

Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong with the Narrators. Nothing is wrong with the Writers. We’re all good. There is nothing going on.

Right?

Anyway, back to the plot:

Spamton felt bad about, well, everything. Eventually someone came up to him and he turned around and saw sans.

"heya bud, how ya doing?"

"Terrible..."

"oh? what happened, dude?"

"I DON'T REMEMBER [2012]! I DID [The most noxious, toxic, obnoxious @!$7! How vile can you be?]"

"man sounds hard, but on the bright side you probably remember what happened with you and bill in the hotel, right? i was in the room next to ya. you both were very loud."

Spamton never ran as fast as he did to a trash can before in his entire life.

"oh, uh-"

Yeah, Spamton's just glad he didn't remember this shit when he was doing his interview.

"WHY ARE YOU EVEN [Present? If not-]"

Chapter Text

hello this is pheebs, hi everyone! ive come to make an UNFORTUNATE announcement, well technically a FEW announcements but i will just ease one thing (or possibly infuriate some people with this first? no clue!) first: we arent dropping this fic, thats not in any of the current co-writers (ill explain why i say current in a little while) plan. we all want to continue to write this. which is where this leads me to the unfortunate thing: harvey, dubi and i cant continue to write this currently. maybe in the future, HOPEFULLY in the future. but dubi and i are currently pretty busy with our own lives to the point that neither of us has time to do shit (i mean for fucks sake, i have practically a full-time factory job now and dubi is busy with taking care of the home they live in) meanwhile harvey is going somewhere that lacks wifi. so yeah, itd be kind of hard to write like this on frantic, wouldnt it? you may be wondering about mystic, and i suppose this gives me time to talk about this news as well: mystic will not be writing with us anymore. theyre still alive, nothing happened to them when it comes to that. the issue is moreso when we would try planning on writing together... they would always push we do a fun, non-related fic/chapter to write. no lore or any of that. would push that we should do that first. then theyd say we should do another one. and another one. and another one, until we all didnt have the time to continue to actually write lore and all basically had to go to sleep. thats not the only reason why, but it all kind of... went up to basically we couldnt really write plot as we planned it or even write lore at all with them and it just kind of resulted in them not really writing with us anymore. so thats that. i do not want to really go into more detail than that, so i wont.

tl;dr: this fic isnt over or being cancelled or whatever, its just on an indefinite hiatus unfortunately until we all have the time. also mystics not a writer anymore. thats it.

Chapter Text

Long Long Man sighs as he sits down on the sofa, for once feeling like he doesn't have to tread on water. Talking shit out really helped--

Which is a rather pathetic admission, considering he's a therapist-- who needed his own words lectured to him by one short, terrifying, protective woman.

He decided to get call Edna

"Hello? Who is this?"

Oh god, Long Long Man felt intimidated already.

"Um-- Long Long Man... Wonka's business partner...?"

"Ah... you." Edna spoke, definitely quite angry.

"Edna- I have to apologize", he admits. THe other end stays silent.

"I admit that I was unnecessarily rude to you when you visited our shop. At the time I wasn't aware that-" He isn't sure how to phrase this.

"Let me try again", mutters. "I did not think that Willard harboured any feelings towards me, which is why I in turn deeply hurt him by pretending I didn't either.

That is also why our encounter was not exactly... fortunate."

He hears Edna sigh.

"Darling", she says in a way more compassionate tone that the last time she called him that.

"Darling... part of your profession is therapy, no?"

"That's-- correct."

"Well, one thing I have to say is people rarely take their own advice. And when one does not take their advice to heart it often ends poorly. Just think: 'what would I tell a client?'. THAT-- that is your answer, darling."

"Oh-- oh, okay, fair point."

"And one more thing." Edna says through the phone.

"Yes?"

"If I ever find out you hurt that sweet boy in any way, no one will ever find your corpse. I have connections." She says casually, and he can't help but feel nervous. "But otherwise, if you treat him well, you're welcome to dinners from now on. and if you need those connections, darling, just let me know. I need to go now, clients are waiting. People are so picky about fashion nowadays--"

"Goodbye, Ed--" He starts, before the receiver clicks on the other end.

Chapter Text

Flashback to the DARK TIMES (aka the Anti-Afton Army, remember when that was a thing?)

The scene starts showing a run-down bar in bum-fuck nowhere. It's not a place anyone ever visits anymore, more hideout than establishment. There, we see a number of tumblr sexypeople at a game of poker. All of them have dated Afton, except for one, a blacked out (or more likely whited out) puppet going by the name of Spamton. Just Spamton.

On the head of the table the players sit at is a woman, notorious for her murderous tendencies and effective sales tactics.

"I wouldn't bet on that", she speaks. "Wouldn't bet on Cipher either. You would be surprised"

"The fuck are you implying?" Bill bites, eye looking over at her as he folds his cards to his... chest? Bowtie region? Hard to tell, the anatomy of a 2Dtriangle-to-3Dpyramid god of some sort was as nonsensical as some of Afton's past date choices.

"I'm not implying anything," Flo responds, giving a passive-aggressive grin. "I'm just letting people know you may not be the best bet in a game of poker, considering your winning history."

"Do I need to turn your liver into a sponge?" He threatens.

"Technically, it already is one," Miles quietly offers. "In the human body, the liver acts as a filtration syste-"

"And who asked you?" Bill hissed, voice vibrating as he turned to look over at Miles, who was sitting on a couch next to a passed-out Spamton.

"... Nevermind." Miles decided it was probably best to avoid getting into a potential argument with the all powerful dorito, since he could probably do some pretty disturbing things to his body he would much rather not think about.

It seemed that Flo and Bill continued their bickering regardless, meanwhile Spamton was finally starting to lift his head from the table, looking up.

Bill took some of the coke off the table from where Spamton was asleep only moments ago and snorted it, while still holding the cards with his other hand.

"Finally awake, eh?" He asked, as Spamton looked up at the clock, seeing that it was 1:00 AM. He sobbed.

"oh, for gods sake", Bill muttered, getting back to the game. Flo had been right about his winning history. Of course, Bill could use his powers to cheat and pull this thing around. He usually did - when he remembered the possibility of course.

But the line Bill had just snorted might have been the tipping point, so instead he just knocked on the table, signaling he wouldn't raise.

"My, my", Flo muttered as they revealed their cards,"you might actually be a better leader than you are a gambler."

Her almost permanent smile widened as she reached out for the pot, taking almost all of Bills chips with her.

"You must feel lucky we're not playing for money - for now."

"You upset me, Flo", Bill said, as he arranged another line on the table. "Wasn't it me who got you out of jail? I figured you would be more thankful, considering they probably didn't have your favourite red lipstick there." He lit a big af cigar right above his line as well now.

"Might be", she answered. "But at least I was with my own kind of people there."

Chapter Text

Long Long Man decided to do something pretty pleasant with his boyfriend- after having the talk with him and deciding to actually officially date one another. Wonka even decided to invite Edna, since they're family and all.

They all first went to Walmart to pick up what was considered pretty important groceries to- you know- COOK FOOD! Sure, the both of them may run candy businesses, but the two of them also knew how to eat a relatively healthy diet.

Afterwards, they decided to pick up a couple of things at the local Dollar Tree, the three of them walking in and looking around in the relatively small building.

That was when things went wrong, Long decided to look for some snacks, that was all he wanted, before he saw a very odd looking dude in an orange jumpsuit screaming, "OH YEAAAH" over and over again, bumping into the shelves repeatedly causing the items to fall down.

"YOU!" He shouted at Long, confusing him immensely.

"YOU WORK HERE, DON'T YOU? JUST PICK UP MY MESS, WOULD YA?!"

Long felt very confused, not only because he didn't work here, but he didn't dress so either.

"Uh, actually, I don't--"

"WELL PICK IT UP ANYWAY--" He shouts, flailing his limbs and hitting more items from the shelf. "Oops... Oh well. AS I WAS SAYING YOU SHOULD PICK IT UP FOR ME OR I'll SHOOT YOU WITH MY SNAKE GUN!"

"I find snakes quite nice, actually. They're very misunderstood creatures who--"

"I DON'T CARE! PICK IT--" Long starts walking away, heading into another aisle, and the dude pauses, surprised before he follows him, somehow shouting even louder. "HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M VECTOR!"

"Okay, and?"

Vector pauses again, caught off guard. "DO YOU KNOW WHO MY DAD IS? HE'S ONE OF THE RICHEST BANKER IN--"

"If he's so rich," Long says, picking up some spices from a shelf and putting them in his basket, "why are you shopping here?"

"I DON'T SHOP HERE!", the... man? child? manchild? screeches as Long strolls along the aisles. "DON'T YOU KNOW? I'M VECTOR!"

"Uh huh", Long says, barely listening at this point, mostly because he's barely able to hear anymore either.

"MY FAMILY OWNS THIS PLACE!"

There's a snort escaping Long's mouth, before he halts. Dollar Tree, huh?

But the adult kid in front of him is very obviously not exactly... well the type of person to not just make random shit up. Very much like elementary schoolers talking about how their fathers are president of the united states, so Long takes a turn into the dairy aisle, contemplating if he should opt for a vegan meal

"Okay." He just didn't really have much else to say, because he didn't exactly care either. He briskly walked towards where Edna and Wonka were at, just ready to check out and get the fuck out of here before this... monstrosity of a creature decides to make a even bigger scene, somehow.

"Oh, I see you just met one of our relatives." Edna deadpanned, seemingly fed-up with the screeches the fucker made in this whole store, let alone the fact he's basically now coming towards them.

"Wait, I'm related to him?"

"Wait, you're both related to him?" Wonka and Long asked at once, seemingly both shocked by this news.

"Yes, yes. I don't let him visit my house, as you can guess why." She stated, venom dripping from her words a bit.

It seemed the two men however were shocked by this revelation, before getting distracted by a loud shriek of,

"HEY! GET BACK OVER HERE AND CLEAN MY MESS UP!"

Like people seeing a horrifying cryptid and getting the fuck out of the situation, the trio avoided the very obvious cryptid in orange clothing, checked out as fast as possible and got the fuck out of there.

Chapter Text

"Welcome ladies, gents, and hell-bent to the Capgras show! Today, we have a woooooOOOOOOOOONDERFUL guest, one Sans Undertale. Would you like to tell us who you ought to be?"

The light pans over, and Sans blinks, before grinning. "Sure! I'm Sans. My favorite things to do are tournament people with puns, make puzzles, and eat ketchu--"

"What are the puzzles like? Are you trying to replace yourself?" The host asks, tone dipping in an odd mix of curiosity, sympathy, and…

... Something else.

"uh, what?" He asked, confused about the last part of his question.

"i mean... i dunno, they're just puzzles, pal." he said nonchalantly, trying to skip over the last question.

"Okay, but are you trying to replace yourself?"

"... uh, no?" He stated, albeit it sounded more like a question in all honesty. Sans was... a bit lazy to try to replace himself. He just enjoyed doing meth every now and then since it calmed him down, as odd as that sounds, but Papyrus didn't like that very much and decided to force him to get better.

"Seems like you already found someone to replace yourself with though", Capgras said. "Since nobody will ever be able to take you alive, am I right?"

"what?" Sans asked again. "i guess not? who should i replace myself with though and why? how does that even, well.."

Sans was sweating now, he was just here to answer some questions about... well, he didn't really know why he was invited in the first place, but he thought it was because of his generally fucked memory and not because there WASN'T a reason.

"Oh, I don't know": Capgras said, looking at his nails. "But what have you been up to recently? I mean, aren't what you feel and what you do essential to what really makes you: You?"

"i guess, if not then what is?"

"RIGHT? Just what I was saying!"

"umm, well, i have been making puzzles and doing... other things. hanging out with friends."

"Puzzles? Heard you have another great puzzlemaker in the family,

"Oh, yeah, I--I guess so. My brother and I like making them together, usually."

"Damn! I thought you're NOT your imposter--seems like your brother changes things."

"What--what does that... what does that even mean?"

"What does what mean?" Capgras asks innocently, but in a way that seemed fake in a way that was barely noticeable. Fuck, this interview gets more unsettling by the minute. "Well anyway, what are some things you like doing with your brother?"

"Well. besides the puzzles, we like going out to town together, and snowball fights, things like that." He just needs to get through this interview, and then he can go home to hopefully forget about whatever the fuck this hour will be.

Chapter Text

Vanessa remembered preparing the twins a bottle when it happened.

She was in kitchen, grabbing the baby formula and boiling the water when she had heard a knock at the door.
"Just a moment!"
She had hurried across the room, trying to reach the door and open it when she saw... no one? How strange.

It only took roughly three seconds before she heard a cry and looked down to see a strange looking... baby?

Where did it come from?
She leaned out of the door frame, looking around outside for a moment, but it was already dark out and there were no signs of people, one of the streetlights illuminating the area that showed no hint of a person.

She looks down at the child again and hesitates. Something felt... off, about them, though why she couldn't explain. Just the thought of even stepping closer to them made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she wanted to shut the door and go back to FLo and Blo, to check on them and make sure they were alright.

But at the same time, this child seemed around their age--and imagining one of her baby siblings left outside on the steps in the dark made her cave.

She had barely been eleven then, not knowing better than to pick up the literal infant at her doorstep and lay it into a crib with Flo. Who wouldn't have?
Her parents had barely noticed back then, only mildly surprised to find four sisters instead of three, triplets instead of twins.
No one outside of the family knew. There had never been an outspoken ban to talk about her, but the baby that would grow into a sickly looking and thin girl had been kept secret from any outward family that might have asked, had never been brought up during yearly phone calls, hadn't been invited to the family Christmas gathering, instead spending the time alone in their home.
The off feeling never left.

By the time Vanessa had become an adult, something terrible had happened to her parents. She was just a young adult when she had received a call from a number she did not know, but for whatever reason she felt like she should've picked up.
"Hello? Is this Vanessa Bloome?"
"Y-yes, it is..."
"Well we're sorry to have to be the ones to tell you this, but your parents had just gotten into a car accident and died."
A pit formed into her stomach and her throat started tightening...
"What? How did that..."
"A semi-truck had crushed them."
This would be the day she grieved about her parents and when she would have to start taking care of her little sisters throughout adult-hood.

The funeral, when it came, was a blur. The words spoken during the mass were nothing but gibberish to her, the sea of black being the only thing she managed to pick up on. That's what happens when you have a big family and your parents have business connections.

Other than her sisters, the only one she was able to recognize was one of her... aunts? She thinks? Emma, or Elsa, or Edna... something like that. The short woman was the only one who bothered to approach her and offer condolences, gently reaching up and patting her hand with gloved fingers.

The burial wasn't much better, and she kind of robotically moved, feeling mechanical throughout the entire thing. She cared, sure, but not because she loved her parents--but instead because she suddenly had to fill their place in business, and to continue taking care of her siblings. There was so much to do. When she dropped flowers into their grave, she felt nothing but dread.

During the after-dinner, that dread didn't go away. Everything felt off, and her aunt hesitated before sitting down next to her. She seemed confused by the presence of her third sister and distantly recalled that the two of them had never met before, for some reason. It was something quickly forgotten when she was served her meal, and she forced herself to eat, but the food tasted terrible, like cardboard and nothingness. The uneasiness never went away, and the dread that night somehow became worse than it ever was.

Parenting had been a nightmare. Not only after her parents death, but before as well, when she permanently had to step into her parents role. The triplets had been exhausting, always screaming and pulling each others hair. There had never been a calm minute from start to finish. Not when Janet - the third sister who grew to look eerily similar to the twins - first bit Flo when her teeth had barely grown. And certainly not when Flo and Blo would come to have a massive fallout over one of them stealing the others boyfriend years later when they had all reached adulthood.
It had been then when Vanessa reached one of the lowest points of her life, her remaining family steadily falling apart and had left them in a time that had become just as much of a blur to her as most of her childhood would come to be.
She would live wherever for months, no steady home or friends and no way to reach out to any of her sisters anymore, not that she had wanted to.
For one time in her life she wanted to be her own person, not a caretaker bound to a far too great responsibility.
Even if that own person seemed to turn out to be a homeless methhead. Not that she cared at that point-
It took a lot to get her life together afterwards, but somehow she managed, having her first boyfriend, who knew nothing of her past (and who was kind of a douche so she ditched him for a bee)

But it all came to crumble when Janet appeared at her doorway one day.

Chapter Text

"Well I wish someone would cut your supply to whatever you've been having access to for far too long now", Edna said as she descended the Elevator into her workspace with one of her least favourite relatives. Which she might have had quite a lot of, but she did consider this one to be one of the worse ones.
Like others he was the head of a huge company that employed thousands, which made him just as douchy as most of the family, especially the "cash side".

"Oh you're only just saying that because you wish you were making as much cash as me!" The Second Heir had responded, which only managed to annoy and slightly agitate Edna, as well as drawling out from her a, "Pardon?"
"You heard me."
"Hm. Let me just get this straight: I have been making superhero suits, and frankly many outfits period- for a lot of clients, and yet you are under the impression I would be jealous of someone like you. Someone who lacks all creativity in putting anything that would be considered actually good out there to sell... bottled air supply? No, I don't think so."
She was quite finished with the conversation, at least on her side, and made way to exit the elevator.

"Listen, cuz, you just don't see the big picture." He says, and attempts to sling an arm around Edna's shoulder, only to fall face first to the ground when Edna sidesteps the attempt. He gets up and flashes an uneasy smile, before fixing his hair, suit, and watch. "The world is dying, and people don't care enough to realize that. One day, they'll all be old, or their kids will, and the Third Heir o' Air, or Fourth, or Fifth, will have all this stockpiled up and we'll be rich! It's simple."

"All you're doing is ignoring the present? What's the point? Why should I be jealous of someone who cannot even stop himself from falling to the floor, who manages to take the family bob and butcher it beyond recognition into the most unflattering thing possible? I do not envy you, dahling. I PITY you." She states, continuing down the hallway as she fiddles with the cigarette holder in her hand. She rarely smoked, but the current situation called for it so she didn't kill someone with a chair, or something.

"You will see", she hears O'Hare mutter behind her. 
"Let's make this quick", she tells him and pulls a poor collection of childrens clothing out of the farthest corner of her workshop. They had all been perfectly modeled after O'Hares own wardrobe. A perfect partner-look for father and son. 
Her face twists at the thought. There is barely room to judge for her. A family is a family, not matter how unorthodox, but this to her seems much more sinister than the simple notion of having one.
Modeling your own son to be your perfect heir, an exact copy of yourself, not only in style and expression, but in every way imaginable, only for him to one day lead a business of nothingness in a bottle.

It took about time for the Third Heir to reach adulthood- which concerningly didn't take much time, for her to notice what was up: He's been trying to clone himself over and over just to guarantee his wannabe business will run at some point.
"Heyyy, Ednaaa. Uh- so I thought I'd call you to ask how you were doing-"
"Cut to the chase, will you?" She cut him off.
"W- What?"
"Listen, darling, you know I am a busy woman, yes?"
He paused, before just saying, "Yeah... right..."
"Then you should know better than trying to drag this out. Just tell me what you want."
"Well I just think it wouldn't hurt to get more baby clothes, and to maybe borrow some mone-"
"No."
She could hear him splutter in confusion at her refusal, even getting kind of mad for a moment there before finally managing to compose himself.

"You Airs keep speaking of great things, and success, and giving things time, and yet none of you can think ahead far enough to understand that I would say no to such a thing. It's quite embarrassing, really."

O'Hare 3 breathed on the other end, uncomfortably close to the speaker. "Oh, c'mon now, Eds, just a little--"

"No. And don't make me repeat it. You've done nothing for this family, and trust me, the bar started low, darling. All you O'hares do is come around and take, take, take! It's disgusting. It's pathetic. It makes a mockery of our family."

"Your nephews haven't done shit, cuz, why the special treatment? I'm at least trying!"

"That is because they aRE CHILDREN--" She snapped, and winced at her own tone. "That is because there is nothing they can do to contribute, to this family, currently," She rephrased and held the phone away from her face when she sighed. "As infuriating as they may be at times, they can barely be considered adults. They deserve some... slack. But YOU? No. In fact, I don't want to speak to any of you or yours again. Good night."

"Edna, wait, can't we talk this out--" O'Hare started again before she hung up the phone with a huff.

"Well, that shit is finally dealt with." She says quietly to herself, before going to get ready for bed.

Chapter Text

Miles nervously fiddles with the phone in his hand as he walks to the kitchen, pausing in front of the kitchen table as he pulls up Spamton's contact and presses the button to call him after a few moments.
The dialing tone starts when he puts the phone to his ear, and though he isn't sure what he'll say, he knows he needs to reach out. This is bad. BAD bad. Spamton has been doing far better, he's sober, and he's admitted to wanting to focus on himself for a while.
But after what just went down on the Capgras Show? Onceler stumbling in and acting all clingy? Fuck, this is going to be a nightmare, especially since Spamton has grown, but The Onceler clearly hasn't.

The dialing tone stops just a little too early for Miles liking and he immediately dials Spamton up again, despite his first call likely having been clicked away by Spamton.
Seconds start to drag with every way to loud piep, while Miles nervously watched the TV in the living room through the doorframe to assess the fallout. There is some chaotic running and yelling, the Onceler is being pushed aside somewhere in the background, but Spamton isn't visible.
"HELLO MY [trusted friend]!"

"Hey, Spamton. I uh... saw what happened on TV?"
It came out like a question moreso than a statement, which to be fair all of this feels like a messed up fever dream. For fucks sake, his Spamton's ex is practically fucking ASS NAKED on TV.
"... OH, DON'T WORRY [Valued Customer]! I ASSURE YOU [Everything Is Fine]!"
Miles, as a lawyer, didn't buy it for a second. He's quite certain he's trying to just get him to go away so he doesn't have to think about this for too long, most likely.
"Well, I just want to check up on you to make sure everything's okay, alright? You're my friend, we can discuss this if you please."
The other side of the phone went quiet for a while, Miles honestly was tempted to check if the both of them were even still on the line at this point or if he had decided to hang up.

There's eventually a cough from the other end, and Miles fiddles with the edge of his shirt. "You alright there?"

"YES, [valued customer], I AM [just fine and dandy]. I SIMPLY [consumed] WATER [incorrectly]."

"Spamton, where... where are you right now?"

"AT [the quaint little diner]. HOME IS [too far on foot in the weather] SO I STOPPED TO GET [a hydrating beverage for 4.99]."

"Do you need me to meet you there?" He asks, glancing out the kitchen window at the drizzle that started. "I can drive over and drop you at your place if you want. I doubt Will would mind too much--" He offers, peeking back into the living room. Afton must have started to drift off at some point, head occasionally dipping.

"DO [no worries, we have you covered] ABOUT ME, I WILL JUST [call] A CAB."
"That is a waste of money", Miles says, "Stay where you are, I'll get you."

When Spamton had claimed to be at the diner, Miles had expected him to have a cozy seat, watching people pass by in the rain, while drinking whatever he had gotten for himself, but as Miles gets to the place he sees Spamton standing in the rain, looking like a dog without his owner, not unlike he had back when they first met at the AAA.
He gets into the car wordlessly and as much as Miles tries to get him to open up without any outright prying, Spamton shuts down the conversation quickly every time.
When they eventually stop in front of Spamtons place, all Miles can really do is offer Spamton to call him when he needs to.

As he saw Spamton enter the house, he couldn't help but just sigh. All of this just seems like a disaster, really. Perhaps this is something that Spamton could discuss with Long when he's finally ready to talk about all of this, at least.
He made sure to keep his windshield wipers on for the entirety of the drive back home, and made sure to brake further behind vehicles such as semi trucks just to make sure he wasn't in their blindspot. After all, if you're too close behind one and they need to reverse to make a turn that is a very good way to end up crushed.
Once he finally had made it back, he locked his vehicle and took out his umbrella before making it inside. Just as he was about to open the door he heard what sounded like a young boy yelling.
"-and you never even gave me a call! What gives?! Too busy living this new life to actually care about your old family?! You're the worst! I hate you!"
He sounded really angsty, too.
He decided to open the door just to see what the commotion was up about and was granted the sight of seeing what looked to be an 11... maybe at most 14 year old boy getting caught in an argument with Afton.
"So... what's going on here?"

Chapter Text

Edgeworth walked out of the rehabilitation center, finally ready to stop going here and to just live life like he used to with his husband without having to ever go back here again. Hopefully.

He got into his husband's vehicle, just feeling relieved about this.

"Well, honey, I'm glad this awful chapter of our lives is finally over", he says, buckling his seatbelt, not before giving Afton a kiss on the cheek. Meanwhile Edgeworths husband is gripping the steering wheel, looking forward, literally, but certainly not figuratively.

"And I am sorry that the recent... altercation that you got into means that you will still have some sessions to attend to at the AA (Aggressives Anonymous)." Hearing the unfortunate name, Afton visibly flinches.

"But don't worry, once you're done with your required sessions I am sure that we will never have to see this aggravating... we will never have to see that guy again."

They are driving down the road out of the town Edgeworth had spent the last weeks in, back to their shared suburban picket-fence home that barely matches up with their lifestyle, but oh well.

Seeing a local Dollar Tree Afton speeds up.

Miles, at this point, knows better than to say anything. The drive settles into an awkward silence, and when he has enough of it, he hesitantly tries to start another conversation. "So, any particular ideas for dinner?"

The silence stretches on, and Miles fiddles with his sleeves anxiously, and he isn't sure if it was because of the odd, stiff session he had, or the lack of a response from his husband.

There's an inhale before William speaks. "I don't know... maybe just some... soup or something? I'm not really hungry."

"Oh, okay." Miles says. He isn't sure what else to say, really. They have some Campbell's in the pantry.

After a few more minutes of silence, Afton pulls up into the driveway, parking, and they both head inside.

As the two of them went inside, Miles got hit with a feeling: anxiety. Is that game still in here? he couldn't help but be a bit anxious about it... he isn't sure if he feels that way because of it being potentially gone, or the idea that it may still be in there.

As Afton got ahold on the can of soup did Miles go up to ask him.

"So... is it still here?"

"What, hon?"

"That game..."

"Oh, no. I sold it to someone a couple weeks back."

He nodded in response, and secretly felt a bit disappointed and yet grateful that he did that to prevent a relapse.

They ended up eating the soup, and despite all of this Miles couldn't help but look forward. Figuratively, obviously.

As the day became the night, the two of them kissed and held hands in bed, doing absolutely nothing else for several hours.

Totally.

Chapter Text

William sat down with his husband on his couch, watching some TV. It seemed Miles was in the mood to watch the follow-up interview that was done recently with Spamton. William honestly... didn't know the guy at all. Sure, he knows he was involved with AAA and that he cried a lot on the first interview about that dorito he himself once dated, and that he killed his boyfriend once which he thought was kind of funny (not that he would say that to Miles) but that was really it.

Honestly, he wasn't really paying much mind to it either. At least, not until the interview took a very peculiar turn, with Mr Capgras asking,

"Wait- wait. What is that man doing here on set?" As he pointed his fingers off screen, only to show a familiar and annoying face he recognized.

"THIS IS MY [it's complicated] AND HE IS HERE TO [show your support now. Lowest tier only 1$ on my patreon!]." Spamton explained, obviously not too hyped to have the Onceler here at all and especially not as the center of attention.

"Isn't that lovely!", Capgras said, smiling deviously. "Wouldn't you want to come up here, Mr. Onceler?"

The Onceler swiftly stumbled on stage, Spamton now even more visibly uncomfortable.

"Hello, Mr. Capgras, he said, sitting down next to Spamton on the couch. "I am very thrilled to be here as well today."

Spamton was now visibly panicking. Understandably so since the Onceler was high off his ass and had his guitar with him. This could not end well.

Without thinking it seemed, Spamton got up, booking it off set.

"Spamton, where are you go--" Capgras starts, before there's the loud bang of a door. Without an ounce of trouble, he shifts gears, clearly uncaring. "Well then, Mr. Onceler, would you like to introduce yourself?"

"Well, shit--" Miles mutters next to him, and Afton looks over, mentally tuning out the show. "Give me a minute, I'm--I'm going to call Spamton, real quick..." Miles says, getting up off the couch, and grabbing his phone. He takes a moment to lay the blanket back around his husband but then walks into a different room.

Afton tugs the blanket slightly, settling again. Makes sense he would do that since this is a live broadcast, but that's not good, if Miles' reaction means anything.

He has no idea how this twink even got revived. Perhaps from everyone's reactions he should go out of his way to stab the fucker again-

No, he shouldn't do that, even though he really kind of wants to right now. He's been trying to work on... this, even though he doesn't exactly want to. That, and this broadcast seems to be more than enough proof that doing that wouldn't be necessary, the dude was already stripping off his clothes for whatever reason and jamming out, clearly in his own world.

Dear god, it would've been better if he had just stayed dead. Oh well, not his problem now.

He hoped.

Chapter Text

"My husband!", William told the child after he asked who Edgeworth was in a disbelieving way. "And I want you out of my house. Now!"

"William, what is going on? Who is this? A Pizza Place? Don't you own a Pizza Place?" Edgeworth asked, then took a deep breath as he had just entered his home.

"I'm his-" Michael tried speaking up, only to be cut off by William pushing him towards the door.

"He's no one important. Just some brat, that's all!"

"But he seems to know you and things are sounding... off." Miles blocked the door, not yet ready for this conversation to end yet. No, it's just beginning.

"Listen, he's a nobody, okay?" Afton says, far too quickly. "No idea who he is, or why he's here."

"He's my DAD," the kid shouts, nodding his head at William. "And a shit one at that--" He starts, only for Will to try and shove him closer to the door when Miles shifts.

"And what's your name, exactly?" He asks calmly, though swats at William's hands.

"I'm Michael. Michael Afton."

"He's not. That can't be his last name anyways. I'm sure there was something in the papers about the last name."

"Paper?"

"Not important ones. Not anymore, anyways."

"Of course it's my name!", the child screams as William is blocking the door. "And Afton is the family name."

"MY family name!", William corrects. "The divorce papers said you'd take your mothers name. Get a clue!"

"Mom and you aren't divorced!"

William halts at that. He slowly turns to Edgeworth, contemplating.

"That- Oh. That's why I never had to pay child support."

He runs to the car parked in front of the house and opens the glove compartment. Searching through it frantically.

"Shit." He says. "Must have smoked it."

Chapter Text

"So what's your deal?" Michael asks, confused by the man in front of him. "Why... Why do you look like my Dad's boyfriend--husband--whatever the hell? WHy are you dressed like him?"

"Well you see," The man says, pushing up glasses errily similar to Miles', "My name is Miled."

"Mild?" He asks in disbelief "Your name is MILD?"

"No. Miled." He sighs, as though already exasperated. "Miled. Not "Mild--" he says, putting air quotes around the word-- "Like the Taco-bell sauce packets, it's Miled."

"Isn't that the same thing, though?" Michael asks, confused. "And you still didn't answer my question--"

"It's MILED. M-I-L-E-D." Miled Railed Edgeworth had said, nose crinkling getting ever-increasingly annoyed by this child.

"Ohhh..." Mike had said, seemingly finally catching on.

"Well, what's your deal, Miled?" He had asked the older man, scratching his head a little, "I mean, you look, sound, and dress just like my dad's boyfriend! What gives?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Miled had stated.

"It's not like I became a fan of an attorney somehow and stole his look and then tried going to law school to meet his level. Not at all. It's all coinci- no, actually, if anything he stole my look first! That's why we look so similar. He's just a copycat."

Michael took a step away from the guy. He had noticed by now that his fathers new home was in one of the most run-down, downright disgusting and unsafe cities he had ever seen (which hadn't been that many so far, but enough to know that it was very irresponsible of his father to even let him go to the supermarket alone) and he had certainly seen his fair share of creeps from the distance ever since he had fist left the bus taking him here, but this one was certainly up there.

It wasn't that the guy looked outright creepy (despite his odd fashion choices) and there wasn't anything outwardly odd about his general demeanor, but the fact he was basically wearing a cosplay of someone Mike knew personally was... unsettling in a way that would probably give him nightmares years in the future. Which Mike already had enough of.

"Look, dude, my father is waiting at home, so..." he pointed towards nothing in particular, prepared to make a run for it.

"Now just hold on a minute--" He starts, stepping forward, and out of nothing but impulse--okay, and maybe some reflex--Michael shoves him to the ground, before turning and booking it. "Oh, my suit-- NOW WAIT A MINUTE, COME BACK--" Miled yells, almost sounding desperate as he quickly flees down the pavement.

Nope, nope, he's not going to deal with another potential psycho today. Being related to one is plenty enough, probably even too much, but he can't exactly help that. What he CAN do, however, is run as far away from that rando as possible, even if he ends up on the doorstep of the aforementioned crazy relative, accidentally slamming against the door and out of breath.

They do say the devil you know is better than the one you don't, and even though his dad wasn't a devil he was like... immortal or something, so that counts, right?

His breath heaves, and he tips his head back against the door he hit after stopping a little too late. Clumsily, with a shaking hand, he shoves the hair out of his face, pausing and letting his hand lay on top of his head for a moment. Fuck, that was scary.

Then he heard a knock at the door.

"H-hey just listen! You just ruined my suit! Cough up the cash now!"

NOPE. He was NOT dealing with this today. He locked the door and went to the back to lock that one, too.

"HEY!" Knock... knock... knock... "I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I KNOW THAT YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

Michael went into the living room to pick up the phone and contact the authorities.

"Hello? 9-1-1, what's you're emergency?" The lady on the other end asked in a calm tone, that sounded very odd because of the kind of stuff you have to do and hear when it comes to this kind of job.

he took in one deep breath of air before he spoke.

"Hi, there's a crazy man on my dad's lawn and he keeps knocking at the door and won't leave me alone!"

"Is your father there with you right now?"

No, he never is, he thought bitterly to himself, feeling as though he's about to cry a bit at the thought.

"N=no."

"Alright, just tell me your address and I'll have them be over there right away."

"Thank you..."

After he gave her the address he just had to wait and keep himself safe. Eventually the cops came over right when his dad and his dad's boyfriend arrived.

It was quite the scene to behold, seeing a very visibly angry and upset William Afton wondering what is even going on, a scared Michael Afton feeling it safe to come out while Miled was pinned to the ground for not doing as the cops asked him to do, yelling and kicking at the cops, PUNCHING a cop, all the while Miles looked mildly horrified at the sight in front of him.

"No, he is with me", he heard his father yell at one of the cops on their lawn as he had been stepping towards Miles.

"Sir, we need him for a statement", the very tired cop told him, but the entirety of the time he was conversing with his fathers boyfriend, Mike's dad never let them out of his line of sight. Honestly, he was glued to the guy. Mike really didn't get it.

Well, his father was a weird psycho, so there wasn't really much to understand there either way.

He looked worse than he had years ago now as well. More... distraught? His eyebags were even darker and his eyes were wild and made him look like a creackhead. Even more so than before, anyways.

Finally the cops were gone from their lawn and his dad pretty much shoved him and his boyfriend into the house.

Like somthing to hide, Mike thought.

"Are you okay?", he asked and Mike was already turning his head to answer when he saw his dad fussing over that guy.

"And you!", his father said then and turned around to him. "Didn't I tell you to get out of my house and not come back? Don't you still have a mother?"

Yes, Mike thought, a mother who had never been the same since his sister's death.

"I was trying to collect enough money for a ticket back home since you never gave me any!"

"William, what?"

The unspoken ending of that sentence that rhymes with 'duck' hangs in the air, and William turns to look back over at his husband. Eugh. Just the concept disturbed Michael, honestly.

"Sweetheart, listen--"

"So you tell him to go home only to leave him without the resources to do so, and now you want to send him back outside where he was nearly killed an hour ago?" Miles asks slowly, as though in disbelief. Only then does the 'Miled' thing fully click with Mike, and he winces slightly.

"I--" his dad starts, as though unsure how to respond. He glances over at Mike, and so he looks away, refusing to budge and help him because of some stupid silent plea. If he can be ignored despite screaming his lungs out, then he can ignore his dad's disgusting, pathetic glance. A heavy silence hangs in the air, and Michael shifts on his feet anxiously, feeling tense.

"Alright, how about this," Miles starts as he pinches the bridge of his nose just above his glasses, "You can stay the night," He says, looking over at Mike; it takes a lot of effort not to sigh in relief. "And we can discuss this all in the morning. The guest bedroom isn't the greatest, but it's a place you can stay, because not everyone is immune to bleeding out in an alleyway," He offers, the last part muttered through his teeth and clearly directed at William.

Chapter Text

Michael was lying in the guest bed, feeling confused about the events that happened just a couple of hours ago, and not just about the Miled Railed Edgeworth guy.

Miles, his dad's boyfriend-husband-whatever, had perhaps given him more... safety, that's the word he's thinking of, safety than his own father has in his whole life. More safety than his mother has even given him. More care.

Which feels SO weird to think about, really. A person who in all practicality was a stranger took the risk about going against what his fucking psycho of a father wanted. For him. Since when has that ever happened? He's not totally sure he could remember even if it did, most things from his younger years fuzzy or absent entirely. Stress is a bitch like that, he guesses.

The only reason he had tried to get in contact with his father again was because he needed to. Sure, life with his mother hadn't been pleasant either for the most part, but at least he was sure she had never killed anyone.

His father on the other hand...

Not only that, the guy fucking died, as far as Mike knew, and now he was back again like nothing had happened.

"You left me", he had told his father. "And then you left me again. And both times you just had to ruin everything."

The second time being his fathers death.

"And then I am getting called by some guy called Phoenix or whatever and he tells me he is the lawyer of some Emily guy, who is suing me- BECAUSE I AM NOW THE OWNER OF A PIZZA PLACE??"

By this point the front door was wide open and he had seen his fathers new partner for the first time."

He shook his head, God. Why did he have to be related to such a psycho? Why does he have to look like him, too. That's what most people have ever said to him, back at home.

"Wow, you look just like your father when he was your age!"

"Wow, you're like a little version of your dad! Maybe you'll grow up to be like him?"

God, he hopes not. He doesn't want to be ANYTHING like him.

He turned his head to look at the time. 1:00 AM already? He needs to get some sleep.

He closed his eyes and just tried his best to bore himself.

Chapter Text

Will thought back to what his son said, which was a dumb decision on his part, he thought bitterly, but still. He's suing a child? I mean sure, Henry was trying to sue him so this works out much better for him in the long run, but it's still odd.

And who was the Phoenix lawyer that his son mentioned? He can't help but feel as though as if he had heard that name from someone before. Perhaps he should ask Miles about that sometime soon.

Better now than ever, he supposes, with Miles walking in from the other room. "Sweetheart?" He asks, and Miles looks over. "Have you ever hear of some guy named Phoenix, or something like that?"

"Phoenix Wright?" Miles questions incredulously, eyebrow raised.

"Yes! That's his name."

"He's my ex." Miles deadpans. "Why are you asking about my ex, exactly?"

"You had a boyfriend?" William asks and has to calm himself. Right. It's "fine" if it was in the past.

"What I mean is: Your ex - who is also a lawyer - is right now working in suing my so- representative- is trying to sue me, let's be real. I have some colleague who has been really envious of me and your Phenix guy is doing his dirty work to get my money!"

"Oh." Edgeworth says. Then: "Well, what do you want me to do about this? It is his job." Then:"Didn't you stab him once?"

He thought long and hard about it. He might've actually.

"... No..." He answered, looking him in the face but not even really making eye contact.

"Are you sure?" Miles pressed.

"Okay maybe I did."

Miles just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking disappointed and contemplating.

"It's been quite a while since I've had to work in a case against him, perhaps it'll be better if I just find a different lawyer to work against him. Besides, I'm more used to working as a prosecutor rather than a defense attorney."

Man, this is going to be a mess.

Chapter Text

Blo would remember the day. Always in the forefront of her mind. The day that would change her whole life. The one that ruined her bond to her sisters forever.

It had been a peaceful day. One of the few days both her parents were off work. A mild early summer one. They had been driving to a park her parents used to visit with Vanessa before the triplets were born. The picnic had been planned for months.

Blo sat in the back. Packed between her sisters. It annoyed her.

"UGH! BLO!" Screamed Flo, getting a bit of spittle on the seat, "YOU'RE SITTING ON MY HAND! YOU'RE SO HEAVY! CAN'T YOU MAKE ANY MORE SPACE?!"

She pushed her into Jenette, who let out a growl and pushed her right back into Flo. This had caused a screaming match between all of them, fighting over getting more space before their father, the one who was the designated driver, turned to face them after getting the opportunity to at a red light.

"What's going on back there?!"

Crunch.

She barely could comprehend what was happening beyond her body jerking harsh enough to make her shut her eyes, and a terrible, awful noise. Even now, she struggles to get a grasp fully on what happened, everything too jumbled and chaotic to tell. She knew it was a crash, sure, and that a semitruck slammed into the car, but beyond the external information of 'Truck it har, parents died,' she can't make any sense of the order.

It was a miracle anyone had survived the crash. She knew that now. Even more so the fact that all three of the sisters were unharmed. As always, God (or rather the Flying Spaghetti Monster) had a soft spot for children. That was the only possible explanation.

But despite what could only be explained as divine intervention, Blo hated that she slowly regained consciousness on that damned backseat, still perfectly buckled in.

And she wasn't the only one. It was her who had screamed at her sisters. Who had caused her father to turn his head. Her mother to cover her ears.

Flo had never forgiven her for what she had done. Ruined her family.

And yet, she was here. Everything was so bright. The pearly gates. Was she really allowed to enter?

Chapter Text

"Hello, how may I help you?", the shop clerk asked Vanessa. He looked like a tool, but seemed nice and his name Tag said Jamie.

"Oh, just looking around", she told him, despite being inside an insurance company, so there wasn't really anything to look at and everything was very awkward.

"Can I interest you in our new family plan?", he asked and Vanessa cringed. Family. That was the reason she was here after all.

"Well uh, about that--" She says, pausing.

"What is it?" He asks, blinking innocently. "OH, can you not afford it? Well we do have budget management options available. One of our options allows you to cut out the services you don't need to lower the cost, and the other has a slightly different payment structure than our usual," He says, rambling on like a happy puppy.

"Uh, thank you, but no..." She stated, looking around.

"Oh, well what is it, miss?"

"I'm just looking for... Flo." She stated. "She's my sister..."

"I didn't know she had a sister! Well she's right over there!" He pointed to another booth on one of the other sides of the building and yep, there she was, chatting happily away to whoever was listening to her.

He smiles at Vanessa and she gives him a glare to shoo him away, which seemingly only has the opposite effect.

"Should I call her over?", he asks and is already about to call, when she manages to stop him last minute.

"No thank you, I'll take it from here. Thank you for helping."

"No problem."

But Vanessa doesn't go over to Flo. Instead she just vaguely hides behind some sign and stares for a while. She seems to be doing fine, at last, Vanessa thinks and is about to leave the shop when she sees an odd man walk towards Flo. He is wearing a purple shirt with a toast- no a badge like a security officer and honestly looks like a serial killer. They hug, they kiss.

This is awful.

Chapter Text

Long sighed from his place on the couch when Flo clearly caught sight of him, walking over to where he was sitting next to one strung-out Spamton G. Spamton. Poor bastard. For a moment he's concerned Flo will throw him off the couch to sit down, but she likely doesn't want to sit down next to Long when she's mad about whatever minuscule thing he did. What it was? He has no clue, and usually never does.

"Why were you looking at me like that?" She asked, oh boy here we go.

"Looking at you like what?" He asked, concerned about where this is going.

"Looking at me LIKE I'M JUST AN OBSTACLE!" She balled her hands into fists and slammed them on top of the closest table, stirring Spamton awake.

"[Ough???]"

"GO TO BED! BEFORE THINGS GET VIOLENT!" She shrilly shouted.

That was enough of a warning for him to scurry away and ACTUALLY use his bed for once.

Long was just stunned.

"What?" He asked, so, so confused and concerned.

"I know what you are thinking", Flo told him, her eyes wide and a distorted grin across her face. "I have been watching you. You think you just have to get rid of me and William will be all over you again, don't you? But you're wrong about that. He will never take you back. Any of you. You're all the same to him, walking meatloafs whose bones he can sharpen his knife with."

"uhh", Long says, looking for a way to sit up from the couch without running directly into Flos arms (or the knife she is likely hiding behind her back right now, given how her right hand is now hiding behind it.

"Sorry...? I really don't know what to say. You seem… frustrated?"

"WELL OF COURSE I'M FRUSTRATED, ALL OF YOU WANT TO STEAL HIM AWAY--" She screeches, and he does his best to stay unshaken.

"Why... why do you think I want to steal him away? Why would any of us?"

"You're all sick little freaks who are JEALOUS that he was with ME--"

"Hey, hey. Is there something you could do to calm down?" He tries to soothe, knowing this is a very risky game he's playing.

"I could stab you," she says, almost hysterical as she pulls the knife that was in fact, as he guessed, in her hand.

"Is there something other than that? Because otherwise the couch will end up stained, and no one will clean it, so either you will end up cleaning it or it will be thrown out," he reasons nervously.

"Fuck you," she spits, but after a moment of hesitance turns and storms off.

Chapter Text

Onceler was doing his usual schitick - doing a shit ton of drugs then crashing some unknown local bands performance and taking over with his sick af guitar, singing his own sick af songs that were much better anyways and usually left the audience... well he was too high to look at the audience, actually.

So he didn't notice everyone leaving during the first minute of his performance except for one elegant lady, still staying seated at one of the tables in the bar he was at.

Onceler was just done with his last solo, slowly letting his hit song "How Bad Can I Possibly Be" the successor to "How Bad Can I Be" fade out. He was breathing heavily, slightly hyperventilating and sweating A LOT.

So he wasn't exactly at his peak, when he sat down next to the lady in the crowd.

She had a beautiful slim face.

Suddenly, his vision goes funny, and the next thing he knows he's blinking awake, head swimming as he sits up again from the weird way he slid halfway off the chair.

"Oh my! Are you alright?" The lady asks, still sitting next to him, seemingly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm--I'm fine," he says--in reality, it was far more slurred--sitting up fully with a slight wobble.

He eventually walked away a far distance enough, trying to get into his car. He thinks. He's pretty sure it's a vehicle, his keys work on it.

As he went to turn the keys into the vehicle, he finally passed the fuck out, dropping the keys and falling into a slumber.

His subconscious mind went from there, dreaming about something related to Spamton. He was looking up at him, with a serious expression on his face, glaring at him.

Spamton's lips moved, telling him something he could not hear, and despite that... for just a moment did the Onceler know what he said. In that same moment, he felt a great sadness wash over him.

Then he woke up, and remembered the dream partially except what his ex said to him, and yet despite that the sadness remained.

The Other Mother left the bar quite happily that evening. She had just so happened to meet someone who would open a lot of doors for her. Although she wasn't quite satisfied yet. She took out her pocket mirror, looking at it in disgust. The face of another woman looked back at her. A relative of his, but he hadn't recognized her at all.

Well, she thought, probably nothing to worry about. He didn't seem to have been in the best headspace.

Hopefully Vanessa wouldn't be forgotten in the family. It had barely been ten years.

She looked at her phone and the number she had saved, together with some other contact info. That stupid fucker had really just given her all his important data without batting an eye. Must have thought she was his puppet ex for a moment. Idiot.

Chapter Text

Bill was, well, dead as a doorknob it seems. That fact didn't stop him from writing his book though and getting it published to several people on Earth with the help of his creator, Alex Hirsch.

But that's not what this is about, no, what this is about is him sitting on a couch next to Blo- wait sorry, not Blo, FLO! Sitting on the COUCH NEXT TO FLO! With a pint of beer in his hand, sighing, looking at the TV but really just thinking of his life. Spamton shit talking him afterwards and getting a high rise on fame, same goes for his former boy-toy, he's kind of glad he got revived since it seems to now be an issue for Spamton, and the fact that his own former bestie, Long, abandoned him slowly overtime for his BoYFRiEND Willy. Ugh.

Flo had just gone to grab more popcorn and since they were in Pasta Hell, the feeling you would have when walking to the kitchen from your living room translated into physical space, so she wouldn' be back until about half an hour at least.

Good, enough time to finally let him watch his program.

"Get fucked, you neurotic little freak!", he yelled at the TV when Willy Wonka appeared in his "laboratory of fulfilled dreams" or whatever fancy name those two had for their kitchen.

"Hi, My name is Willy Wonka, and welcome to our new behind the scenes look at--"

"Oh shut it, you strawberry TWINK--" He yells and chucks the remote at the screen, but it simply bounces off the boxy tv.

"Of course, this is a limited tour--trade secrets and all that, but I'm more than glad to show you some of the basics to inspire any potential future candy-makers out there. Isn't that lovely?"

"No! It's SHIT!" He exclaimed, "YOU'RE SHIT! YOUR BOYFRIEND'S TASTE IS SHIT IF HE DECIDED TO ABANDON OUR FRIENDSHIP FOR YOU! GOD!" He started yelling.

"SHUT UP I'M TRYING TO GRAB THE POPCORN!" Flo yelled from the other room.

Oh yeah, she can still hear him, despite the fact it'll take her a while to be back in the same room.

Right.

He flipped the channel and kept his thoughts to himself. For real, what did he see in that twink? Did Long actually find that guy attractive? Or is it like, just a power couple-esque type of move? He didn't get it, must've been some sort of mistake on his part.

Like Spamton and The Onceler.

Or really, just Spamton and HIM.

"Alright I'm here! Hope you've finally calmed down!"

"What?" He looked at the clock. Huh, 30 minutes have already passed by now.

Damn.

Chapter Text

After the incident with The Interview that was going to be a part two, only to become The Onceler's interview, Spamton had gotten another chance to get what was originally supposed to be his second interview out there. The only condition was that he couldn't bring any more people with him, just himself, which he obliged to.

As he sat in the seat in front of the turned off camera, waiting for the ever increasingly famous Won't Stone, AKA Mr. Capgras to get done using his special bong in the back, did he start thinking about his friendship with The Onceler.

What did he ever see in him? Well, they were both drug addicts who loved getting high as all hell on stimulants, but it seems something about The Onceler has changed. Or maybe it's not him or his demeanor that has changed, but perhaps the actual root cause is the fact he's been where he is now, and now that he has been there he can't help but find it sort of... wrong to ever want him like that.

In a way, it felt like their relationship had just resumed where it stopped, the Onceler never even acknowledging the fact of his untimely demise. Like he just expected Spamton to do drugs with him and run crypto scams (and fall for a shit ton as well) like they had always done.

No, Spamton thought, the Onceler hadn't changed at all.

He's changed. That's what it was, wasn't it?

He's gotten clean enough to actually tell when a scam is a scam, has his own place, and finally has room to breathe--something, he's beginning to realize, that he never had when with the Onceler.

Part of him finds such a realization disturbing, but ultimately he can't muster up any for of surprise--none at all. It's a terrible realization, really, while waiting for a show host to interview you after getting high off his ass first, but that's when it came to him, so, so be it.

Awkwardly, he folds his hands in his lap, glancing over at the cameras and the people operating them. Even with them around, it felt... isolating, and everything feels too focused and detailed. His nerves are acting up.

He cracks a smile when Mr. Stone shows up from the back, before flopping into his own seat.

"Sooo... are you ready?" Asked Mr. Capgras, with a slightly smug looking grin.

"SURE. LET'S JUST [end this] SAGA ALREADY."

"That's the spirit!" He exclaimed!

"Alright! Let's start the interview in THREE! TWO!"

"ROLLING!" Said a cameraman.

"So! Spamton! How have you been? Read any books lately? Watched any shows that interested you?"

"NO, [Not in particular]."

"Oh? How about anything you ate today?"

"[Haven't eaten anything,]"

"Nothing? Well that just won't do. What will is this bowl of grapes we have, though!" He snapped his fingers and someone brought it over near the coffee table . Spamton didn't really bother to reach for it. He did eat, he just didn't really want to give many answers to these mundane questions. He's already being judged for what happened with The Onceler, last thing he needs is for someone to judge him for merely existing.

"Not hungry? That's alright, I got more questions anyway..." Wont Stone smiled ever wider, but his eyes started twitching a bit and his expression seemed a bit too forced to be genuine.

"How about we talk about..." He trailed off, acting like he was thinking of something while really holding an ace up his sleeve.

"That friend of yours that you brought on the show before! Now we don't HAVE to but I think it'd be a good talk, is all!"

"FRANKLY," Spamton starts, but Capgras cut him off.

"So, Spamton, do tell: Was all of this a marketing stunt to promote your new book: 'Snorting coke off a dumpster, a memoir by Spamton G. Spamton' or were you just as surprised to find your ex crashing this show as our viewers were?"

"I DID NOT TRY TO [boost sales now with this simple trick] AND I HAVE NOT WRITTEN A [container for personal thoughts for 4.99$] YET!"

Spamton made a mental note regarding the name though.

"Oh, so was he just here to show his support?"

"NO", Spamton told him, although he really wasn't sure what the Onceler had thought. "HE HAD MERELY TRIED TO BE AN [personal annoyance] TO ME."

"Have you been able to make peace with him after the interview? I heard you were spotted at a local diner completely drenched in the rain afterwards. Hope you have no ill feelings towards him. I certainly don't, he did an amazing job, just as expected. And those guitar solos. Ohhhh boy!"

"NO", Spamton said. "AND I DON'T WANT TO [make amends for things I don't remember] BEING MY FAULT."

"Well", Capgras said with a devious grin on his face. "What would you say if I told you I just have the perfect opportunity for someone else to do so in store for you?"

Spamton groaned. Of course. Onceler had been on TV before, hadn't he. Sitting in this exact same armchair with Capgras.

"NOW [hold on a moment] ISN'T THIS [signed agreement] FOR A [televised interview]?" He starts, concerned by what Capgras is implying.

"What better interviews are there than group interviews?" He asks, grin somehow growing wider. "Don't you agree?"

"ACTUALLY, I [do not consent]. GROUP [televised interviews] ARE OFTEN [victimizing] AND [build terrible morale] DESPITE THE [big bucks in producer's pockets for 4.99]."

"Well, it seems we'll have to agree to disagree, on that one. It's a shame we can't see... eye to eye, on that topic," he says as he tilts his chin up, as though making a jab at Spamton's height.

Fuck, there's no getting out of this one, is there? He really doesn't want to see the Onceler again, at least not now, and certainly on televised television. The idea makes his skin itch and his chest uncomfortably tight from anxiety, but he simply squeezes his one hand with the other folded around it.

"Now where is he," Capgras asks casually, though there's an underlying enjoyment as he questions the staff-person who brought the grapes over earlier. "Go on, get him out here!" He says, still grinning as he waves a hand as though to shoo them on. Spamton's anxiousness grows when the person simply nods, disappearing backstage somewhere.

He could hear footsteps in the back, which just made the feeling even worse. Not only that, but it felt like...

Felt like something terrible, very terrible, was about to happen.

He couldn't stay here for that. He got up out of his seat.

"Hey, wait a moment, I was just kidding is all!" He giggled, lying through his fucking yellow weed-smoking teeth.

"NO [Thank yoU] I SHOULD'VE REALLY [Stayed Gone] TODAY!"

He tried running out, and of course some people tried blocking him but that didn't do much when he could just move past their legs. Then he bumped into someone.

He looked up, and saw a somewhat confused looking Onceler. They made eye contact for a moment, before behind himself he heard.

"Hey wait! get back in the seat! Your interview isn't over yet!"

"THE [signed agreement] SAID ITS OVER WHENEVER I [want it that way]!"

He scampered off, out of the building and eventually far enough away for that anxious feeling in his chest to get relieved for a bit.

Phew. At least it's sunny today, unlike the last time he was over there, he can walk home just fine.

Still, though, he should be a bit more careful it seems, since he now knows that Mr. Capgras has eyes everywhere, seemingly.

And now, he has possibly become one of his main targets.

Chapter Text

Wonka fucking hated his family. Not Edna, he thinks, looking over to where she was sketching something out for a client, but pretty much everyone else.

Originally, "everyone else" meant his Dad, Ma, Farquadd, and the beast that was his younger half-brother, but looking at the large book in front of him, with several pieces of looseleaf paper that were kept within it spread on the table, that definition grew. Significantly.

Apparently, he was related to Vector? Yeah, Edna had mentioned him in mutters when he was a kid, but the concept that they were some sort of cousins was sickening. Not even Mentioning Flo and that mess. And then, there was Onceler...

Onceler had just taken out his guitar, jamming out on the dinner table, singing a song about being bad, while looking like the goofiest and most pathetic cartoon villain, which tbf was kind of a family brand.

He gripped Longs hand under the table, staring at the mess that was Edna's dining room. The moment Onceler had stepped onto the table, Edna had all but thrown away her sketching pad and was now reigning terror onto the rest of the family.

"I'm gonna... go and wash my hands", he excused himself, leaving Long alone with his brother, who lowkey just seems like a ripoff version of himself, but half medieval dwarf. Which he was.

Wonka rushed past the nearest bathroom, instead settling for a more private one, where he would first wash his hands for a long time with a lot of soap (he shuddered at the thought of how many door-handles he had to touch so far) and then he would probably phone Long, asking him to meet outside and leave. He would leave Edna a text, of course. No idea how she was able to host these dinners.

But he did not expect to find his uncle now using the bathroom, so he couldn't exactly do that.

He sighed, frustrated that he can't escape this situation and now has DISGUSTING, REPULSIVE GERMS on his gloves now, even if they're not on his hands directly, it still grossed him out immensely to even think about it.

As he went back through the hall to accept his fate and sit down, he noticed Spamton- the guy who was here for... some reason? He has no idea why he was here, he wasn't family by any means, not even dating the Onceler, but it seemed he had just about the same idea as he did. Or at least, the same intentions.

He looked over to Edna, and he saw her eyes land on Spamton but seemingly just look towards the door and back at him for a moment, as if saying it was okay for the midget to leave.

Leave he did. He practically, and quietly, scuttled across the room and out the door before anyone other than Wonka, Edna and the guy in question could notice.

Oddly enough, Onceler didn't notice, still jamming out to his guitar. Honestly, it was barely dinner, more like A Gathering At A Very Large Table In A Very Large Room, as only a couple of people were eating, and it was just appetizer-type things.

He carefully tucks the pages back in the book after exchanging a glance with his boyfriend--who nodded to imply he was done looking everything over as well--and closes it. He didn't dare put it on the floor, with the amount of germs there were from everyone, which normally wasn't a concern because Edna kept her house extremely clean. But who knew whatever the fuck these people tracked in.

"You okay?" Long quietly mutters, just loud enough he could hear it, and he nods. "You sure?" He confirms, even gentler than the first question, and Wonka looks over, surprisingly touched even though his boyfriend tended to ask things like that pretty consistently. After a few seconds, he nods.

Chapter Text

Long had imagined this for a looong time, possibly ever since first meeting Wonka. Secretly and had mostly suppressed the thoughts immediately, but ever since they had started to date, he had been very interested to see what his boyfriends family was actually like. Although he had heard enough about them to think that Wonka should just go no contact, honestly.

But apparently, his connection to the one family member that seemed at least somewhat sane, even if not at first look, if Long was being honest with himself, caused him to still attend the MASSIVE family dinner that they were at right now.

And Wonka hadn't taken the dinner too well so far. In fact, he had quickly disappeared to the bathroom, to "wash his hands", which he would do. But Long knew that he would probably take some time away from the loud and chattery dinner table as well. Particularly from his.. brother

His brother was... something else entirely. To even call him, "a character" would be a stretch, perhaps the best wording for his brother would be, "a very odd specimen."

He seemed to just be off in his own world, completely detached from the family dinner entirely and arguably... the rest of reality? He just kept silently humming a jingle over and over again and it honestly creeped him out a little.

Said lad... which, who the fuck in their right mind names their kid 'Little Lad'--looks over at him, and after a few seconds of eerie eye contact, Long looks away, back down at his plate, and continues eating.

Eventually, he hears the chair next to him shift, Wonka settling back in his chair, visibly tense. He didn't hear the approach, but he looked over, offering a hesitant but hopefully comforting smile. His boyfriend looks back, clearly appreciating the gesture, though remains tense, almost robotically picking up his silverware before beginning to eat.

"Berries and Cream", The Little Lad hums, while Wonka already looks like he's about to leave for the restroom again.

"My brother", he says with a pained smile. Meanwhile, the Little Lad starts clapping along witht he song.

"He... really likes this song", Wonka explains. "His m- OUR mother made him sing it all the time. He wasn't allowed any candy otherwise." He leans a little closer to Long. "Or food."

Long just nods slowly.

"Willy, my boy!", a guy with the typical family haircut suddenly yells behind them, grabbing Wonka's hand and shaking it. "It's been so long! How's business?", he asks and semi-abducts Long's boyfriend from the table, leaving him alone with The Little Lad again.

For a while he just hears distant humming and occasionally lyrics.

"When I was a Little Lad", The Little Lad says at some point, and Long has to look twice to make sure this is actually directed at him, "When I wanted Berries and Cream, My mummy made me do the Little Lad Dance!"

"Oh?" Long asks, not sure how to properly respond.

"Mhm", The Little Lad nods. "Mummy's gone now, but I still like to do the Little Lad dance."

Long nods. "I'm sorry", he says then and Willy sits down next to him.

Chapter Text

"Sorry that dinner couldn't have been more enjoyable for you, darling," Edna says eventually as she picks up the few stray plates that had yet to be cleaned up. "I know you wanted to meet more people from our family, but..."

"I get why you ignore them now, at least," Wonka replies.

He had tried to get away from everyone most of the time and Long had been checking for him every few minutes. Until he had to leave early due to a call from a client and Willy had been alone, sat between Edna and his brother for the most time, who had been kicking the table and humming. Like he always did.

"I hoped they would have... improved since I saw them last. But as always the family is driven by greed. And now with all those crypto scams it is just getting worse."

He nodded in silent agreement, looking down at his plate before she inevitably grabbed that one as well.

He sighed. He thought back to the short guy who was here just a few hours ago, he felt a bit bad that he just kind of stood out compared to everyone else. He sort of wondered why The Onceler brought him over. Oh well.

"Strawberries and cream, strawberries and cream..." he heard right next to him, alongside the kicking sound against the floor.

"Now lad, please don't kick the floor. It'll scuff up the floor's finish and mess up your shoes," Edna says, surprisingly calm. Why she wasn't a parent was something that confused him for a long time, up until he realized the fact that she essentially WAS, at least for him.

There's a huff, but Little Lad stops hitting his feet against the floor, even if he keeps quietly humming to himself.

"Edna, you sure you don't need help with any of this?" Wonka asks, just as he did earlier. He just feels bad hovering without doing a thing.

"It's fine, darling. If you're absolutely desperate to do something, just push in the chairs. I don't need you to grab napkins or anything, I'll handle that," She responds as she walks the plates to the kitchen. Oh. Right. SHe actually cared about the germ thing.

Chapter Text

Spamton G. Spamton was sitting on a very uncomfortable and frankly gross-looking leather couch in the living room of the Spamton family home that was once owned by his father, the Spamton γ. Spamton, but now belonged to Spamton A. Spamton, Spamtons eldest brother.

As always when dealing with family, Spamton had an incredibly awkward time. Even more so now as the events of the last week were still fresh in everyone's mind. Mainly the event of the Onceler crashing one of Spamton's TV interviews, shredding his guitar and stripping on live TV.

"So... G..."  E. Spamton starts, sitting down and clasping his hands, "What--" he starts, before quickly beginning over. "How have you been, G?"

"I think we both know how I've been doing, E." He says, already annoyed enough. "Either ask about it or don't bring it up at all."

"Well, uh-- I just wanted to check in, is all..." E says after a moment, seemingly put off by his younger brother's response. "We're family, G. that's what family does."

"Oh, so $ wasn't family?"

"Uh- well, what happened with $ is different. And besides, he has B and Z! But the rest of us fellow SPAMton's have each other, we're all family and here for you, SPAMton G."

"..."

It got awkwardly silent there, and that was when E finally decided to break it.

"WEll I better go head off, it's getting dark and all that. See ya!" He stated in a rushed tone, literally running out of the room. Spamton looked outside the window and could see him run out to his vehicle, getting out the keys and everything before driving off, not even really letting the car run for a bit.

He sighed, just knowing E isn't well equipped with these things.

"Well, what did you do now to make him leave, G?" Asked A. Spamton, coming into the room right on cue.

Oh boy, this guy.

"I HAVE MERELY BEEN ASKING HIM SOME [???] ABOUT [familiar relations]", Spamton answered, regaining his usual tone in A.'s presence.

A. shook his head and looked out of the window where E.'s car had left marks on porch and messed up the edge of his front lawn.

"I think we need to talk", he said then, looking back at Spamton, who was burying his face in his hands at this point.

Oh great. This was gonna go great.

"AND WHAT WOULD BE THE [subject] OF OUR [discussion]?", Spamton asked. But of course, he already knew the answer.

"About your recent television appearance", A told him.

"Well, about the Onceler."

Spamton looked down. This really wasn't how he wanted to spend this evening. Any evening ever, really.

"Look", A said, sitting down on the old and worn coffe table in front of the couch.

"I get it, he's your boyfriend", Spamton has to hold back a snort, "but I really think... he's taking it too far. You've just managed to get clean, and frankly, he's dragging you down."

"BUT HE IS NO LONGER [pda related activities], BROTHER. I HAVE ALREADY [broke it off] AND WE ARE RARELY [in range]." He explains as he looks up, and would be amused if he weren't so annoyed.

"Listen I know you like him, and all--" A starts, before stopping, as though processing what was said. "What?" He says, seeming dumbfounded.

"WE ARE NO LONGER [in relations]." He repeats, or well, simplifies, because A apparently was struggling to comprehend such a thing.

"You... aren't talking?"

"HE [pressured me into attending] A [familial] DINNER, BUT I [left early] WITH [consent to our terms of service] FROM THE [homeowner]. I HAVE [remained out of contact] SINCE [for the most part]."

"For... hold on, for the most part? I thought you said no contact?" He responds, immediately suspicious, as always.

"HE [utalizes sms services] BUT I [leave him on read]."

"Ah..." A. states, seemingly unsure what to say.

The two Spamton's were just kind of soaking up the silence, then, before A. spoke again.

"So... how's Z? I heard he somehow escaped his life sentence and got better? And that... well, besides you living with him..." He trailed off.

It kind of surprised Spamton G. Spamton right there that his oldest brother actually CARES, finally after all these years, how the "worst Spamton's" as he used to call them all in his younger years, are doing now.

But at the same time, it felt odd to care. Why now?"

"WELL [What's it matter to ya?!] I THOUGHT WE WERE [Just the worst imaginable!] WHAT'S WITH THE CHANGE IN YOUR [Heartshapedobject]?"

"..." He went silent for a moment, only to finally speak up finally.

"I'm sorry."

That had him visibly and audibly flabbergasted.

"[$!#*] WHAT?"

"Well, after losing B, even for a little while... it made me realize something."

"OH?"

"Yeah, us SPAMTON's should stick together. At least more. We're family and... it feels wrong now, to exclude each other..."

He paused, before continuing,

"You know, I used to believe people couldn't get better, by the way. That they just stay the same forever. But after seeing Z and him taking in Ca$h Money, well I think my opinion changed on that. At least a bit."

People changing, huh?

"DO YOU [having thoughts] YOU WILL BE ABLE TO [transmit a message] THEM [your signed CD of self- now for 4.99$]?

A. stayed silent for a little.

"I will have to", he says then. "I need to, if I truly want this to work. We're family. I know I've been... horrible to them, to you .But I hope you can believe me that there was never a time I didn't care for you. All of you. Even if I have said and done things I deeply regret." A. is crying silently now.

"THEY WILL [stay oblivious] TO THIS IF YOU DON'T [make the first move and sweep them away]", Spamton says, encouraging him.

Chapter Text

Michael jumps as his phone vibrates against his desk. He was doing schoolwork now, so that's a bit annoying... He does his best to ignore it, turning back to his work when the buzzing stops.

Or he would have, if the buzz didn't start up almost immediately after. He hesitates, and grabs it, checking it over. Some dude named Henry Emily? But he never added a contact like that to his phone? He hesitates, before hitting the answer button. Maybe his mom did, or something.

"Hello?", he asks, unsure of what to say. He's only had the phone for a month and this is pretty much his first "real" call ever, so he has no idea what to say.

"William?", a man's voice asks.

"No?"

William? Isn't that his fathers name? Was this one of his fathers friends? It's his fathers old phone after all. His memories are a little fuzzy since he left his family years ago, but his father wasn't really... the sociable type.

He hears some papers being shuffled.

"Oh, right. Is this Micheal Afton?"

"Yes... Who are you?"

"Well, my name's Henry, and I used to be a business partner with your dad, and even friends before... before the situation..." His tone grew dark and Michael couldn't help but feel at least a bit nervous.

"Anyway, your father passed recently, apparently, and now you own his Pizza Place."

"Really?"

"Yes. So now I'm suing you in court. I want it."

"What?" He asks, confused.

"Yeah. I want the company, and there's some settlement's were going to have to deal with since your father wasn't handling maintenance on the animatronics."

"Settlements?" Mike starts, confused. "Why are we talking about the pilgrims?" he asks. They had recently gone over it in American Civ. "Ohhhh, are you talking about camping? Why are you talking about camping?"

"No, it's not--" Henry starts, and groans over the phone in frustration. "Listen, if you just sign over the rights to me I'm willing to drop the claims, alright?"

"Sign over what?" He asks, confused. "I've only ever signed permission forms for school stuff."

"Oh my god--" There's a huff. "Just--JUST GIVE ME THE PIZZA PLACE--" This Emily guy says, and as soon as he starts yelling, Mike hangs up.

Chapter Text

Spamton, who was just trying to mind his own business as he sat on his couch, apparently can't catch a break.

Why does he say this? Because his doorbell rang a minute or so ago, and now he's standing face-to-face (not really, considering how short he is) with a person who LOOKS like Miles, but clearly isn't. Fuck his life. Of corse this happens after all that brunch-gone-wrong bullshit.

"HELLO THERE [unknown person]. CAN I [assist] YOU?" He asks skeptically after a moment, unsure what to make of all of this. He just wants a nap, honestly.

"Unknown person? Are you implying I'm a STRANGER?" The stranger asks.

"I MEAN NO [personal offense] BUT I DO NOT THINK WE HAVE HAD A [previous encounter]."

"There is no need for a "previous encounter". You should be able to recognize me regardless!"

"Uhhhh"

"I am Miled Edgeworth!", the man says and Spamton is about to close the door on the guy who is dressed as a cheap cosplay version of his best friend and also claims to be him. Or a less spicy version

But then he put his foot right in-between the door and the frame. Shit.

As he was scrambling through his brain to get this fucking psycho away from his property, the fucker just went on and on ranting about himself.

"I AM MILED EDGEWORTH! THE BEST LAWYER IN THIS AREA, NO MATTER WHAT KIND OF IDIOT TRIES TO STATE OTHERWISE! YOU SHOULD KNOW WHO I AM. SO HOW DARE YOU NOT?" He was screeching at this point like some sort of angry, feral, rabid animal.

It was at this point that Spamton basically thought, "fuck this" and picked up his phone to dial the police, having enough of whatever the fuck was going on in front of him.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He screeches.

"Emergency services, what's your problem?" The dispatcher says, voice crunchy-sounding through the phone.

"HELLO, A [person] IS ATTEMPTING TO [enter my home aggressively]" he responds.

"You wouldn't DARE," Miled replies, sounding feral at this point.

"We'll send someone over, stay on the phone with me, please," The dispatcher reaffirms, sounding bored. Great way to act in a situation like this.

Spamton gives this Miled guy a pointed look, opening up the door again after a moment-- making Miled go to say something--

--Before slamming it as hard as he could into the guy's shoe. He gets a yelp for his efforts, and the foot pulls away from his door, causing him to close it.

"Sir? What was that?" The operator asks.

Chapter Text

The Onceler was sitting in a seat right next to the Beloved Mr. "He Wont Stone" Capgras himself, not for an interview- at least not anything of the sort yet, but for this plan to work it requires some communication.

"Alright, so." The man in the bowler hat started off saying, "All I need you to do is to go to this location at 1 PM sharp. I have been paying attention to his routine lately and so far I noticed he goes to this diner at this specific time on the first Saturday of every month. All you have to do is just be there with my camera crew, I already told them all about the plan, and everything should be going great!"

The Onceler just nodded as he reached into his pocket to pull out a flask, downing it.

"Woah there! be careful with that tomorrow, you don't want to get caught doing that while the cameras are on you!"

"Uh- alright."

"Good!"

Spamton is enjoying his meal the next day, with things going smoothly. The food is the same as it always is, Miles is happy to chatter with him, and things are peaceful.

Well, up until Miles seems to tense up, stopping mid-sentence. Spamton, of course, is concerned by this, and goes to look behind himself, only for Miles to mutter something like "Don't," which is followed by a few other words he doesn't catch.

And it turns out he didn't need to, because suddenly he hears a familiar voice, and one surprisingly-only-partly-drunk Onceler walks up to him.

"Spamton!", he says and sits on the table with only one barely existing asscheek.

"Look at you, handsome as ever," he starts some embarrassingly bland and awkward small-talk like they're starring in very bad scripted realiy show.

Spamton is still thinking whether to politely ask him to fuck

off or just leave himself when he hears someone yell from another corner of the room. He thinks he heard his name, but can't get a moment to comprehend what was said because suddenly there are about twenty people with cameras next to them and some guys with a huge ass filming camera that points directly in his face block his way out of his booth.

Meanwhile, the Onceler had grabbed Miles and pretty much yeeted him out of his seat. Now he is sitting opposed to Spamton eating Miles food.

Spamton just starts spluttering in the shock of all this, before he eventually realizes what is going on: A publicity stunt. The fucking asshole who interviewed him is still trying to milk him for views, trying to make things look a certain way on camera to publish as much shit about him as possible.

Just… what the fuck?

Meanwhile he saw Miles trying to get up off the ground while he was being swarmed, and could've sworn he saw him get trampled on a couple times trying to get up.

"So, I was thinking" His ex spoke, and oh God, how he has been trying his best to distance himself from this man but seemingly can't get rid of him like an irritating mole at this point.

"I WOULD RATHER NOT-"

"Nonono, just- listen-" He slurred his words, he's obviously drunk as shit and possibly on something right now.

"I was thinking- y-you know about us and I just thought that maybe you would like to-"

Miles was finally able to get up and start pushing some of the camera people away, which allowed Spamton enough time to make his exit from this situation.

The cameramen still tried following him of course, until he got into Miles vehicle and drove the fuck off, away from whatever mess this has been.

He must admit, he was a tiny bit shocked to see magazines about all this the next day.

Chapter Text

Today was another endlessly long day in pasta hell and Bill was actually getting tired of sitting on the couch with his greatest enemy watching his other greatest enemies having the times of their lives. Well, Spamton’s was finally getting shittier because of the Onceler. At least one thing Bill did right.

He had also left Spamton a nice inheritance to keep him where he belonged, but bureaucracy seemed to be working rather slowly.

Anyways, Bill had finally left this fucking couch before he could get quilted into it. He had been an almighty immortal powerful god before his death, so he really didn't see any reason to waste his time.

As he was going into the kitchen to try to eat something for once- god help everyone who ever saw him eat something, that's some anatomy that no one needs to see happen in front of them, he saw Flo looking displeased as she usually was.

"Bill." She stated, almost sounded like a greeting. Almost.

"Flo." He had responded back to his roommate.

She just stared at him for a moment, like she was waiting for him to admit something that would probably end up being one of the weekly arguments of the month, a ritual that always seemed inevitable to happen for whatever reason and if he was being honest, he wasn't in the mood for it at the moment.

"What happened to all of my Bugles?" She had asked him, looking increasingly pissed.

"No idea." He lied.

"What do you MEAN 'no idea'" she replies, and yep. She's pissed. "You're the only other person that goes in this kitchen."

"Listen, I'm tellin' ya, finger-hats, I don't know what happened to them." This, of course, is false, considering he ate them--though they were stale, the shape amused him. Kind of. Not really, if he thought about it too long. But eh.

"That's a lie and YOU KNOW IT," She screeches, straight to screaming. "YOU ATE THEM."

"Yeah, well, they tasted like shit. Stale as hell. There, happy? I saved your tastebuds for you, or something."

"FUCK YOU, YOU PYRAMID BASTARD--"

"I'll have you know I'm a triangle, actually," He retorts, growing impatient at this point.

He had thought that humans were still able to comprehend two dimensions. They started struggling at four, sometimes three, and usually completely failed at mere five.

"THIS IS LIKE THE HUNDREDTH TIME THIS WEEK. THEY HAD MY NAME ON THEM AND EVERYTHING, BUT NOOO! MR. COULD-SUMMON-HIS-OWN-BAG-OF FUCKING GROSS TRIANGLE OFFSPRING AT ANY TIME JUST HAD TO-"

Bill was so sick of this. He had thought Pasta Hell was a rather chill place compared to some others, but Flo made everything she touched unbearable. She was right though, in that he really didn't need her to get him snacks. Or at all.

He would be out of here soon.

Chapter Text

Spamton, having reached acceptance that his life is going to be chaotic as hell now that the Onceler has been revived, goes about his usual routine. He gets home from his shift at Menards, and brings in his mail--all the things in his mailbox are junk, like usual, but there's a box on the porch, oddly enough. He never ordered anything, after all.

He brings it inside, anyway, and after dealing with the junk mail, sits down at the kitchen table to open it up. There's a letter taped to the top, and the address is from some place called "Oregon". Who knows where that is, but oh well. He opens it up to read it, and it's a letter written on some Lisa-Frankesque paper, and he reads it.

“Dear ------ Spamton,

So in the unlikely case I die, I want you to have this. Congratulations, this is your inheritance! No one wants it but someone HAS to keep this shit so you’re the unlucky winner!

-Bill"

He notices that his name is written next to another and separated through a slash, though the other name is made unrecognizable. Apparently Bill didn't even bother inheriting something to Spamton and changed it as a last effort.

He decided to just tuck the letter back into the box, not bothering to look at the contents inside it- whatever that may be- and spent his time shipping it back to Oregon.

It all went well, not having to think about anything related to Bill. Just living his life and trying to chill and not think about that Wont Stone weirdo.

Until it came back the following week. Upon seeing it back on his property he just sighed, getting a bit pissed about it but deciding oh well, what's the worst that can happen?

As he brought it inside his house for the second time, that's when he saw the name of the person who sent it back. Sort of. The person who put their name and address had some pretty bad handwriting but he could make out the surname, "Pines." on it. It sounds oddly familiar to him for whatever reason, but he can't quite pinpoint why, it's not like he ever knew someone with that last name, did he? Surely he would've remembered.

As he opened the box for a second time, seeing the note again and that it was folded up this time, that he finally saw the other thing inside it.

It was a fucking metal spoon. 

A spoon. He was sent a spoon.

Spamton sighs, taking it and dropping it in the sink to wash later. May as well use it. He still isn't sure what this Pines address is, and why he of all people was made the second choice after this Pines Family of Oregon apparently rejected it. And how Bill managed to configure his will to make that happen.

Did Bill even have a will? He's not sure. But he'd rather think he does than think Bill somehow arranged all this AFTER dying. That, as a concept, is disturbing in more ways than one. But he has an extra spoon now, he supposes, so he may as well make the most of things and use it at some point.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Spamton felt as though life couldn't help but kick him when he was down. He had defaulted to jokingly blaming Bill, although this morning he was actually sure some higher power had to be behind his misery.

He had made himself some quick breakfast - stale cereal that had been open for at least three weeks- and carefully avoided taking Bill’s gag gift out of his drawer, but after his third bite, the spoon that he put into his mouth just fucking shattered.

Spamton spit out several shards of METAL SPOON of which several landed in his cereal.

What the FUCK?

This had never happened to him.

He immediately spat it all out while he could, and was just still in incredible shock about how the fuck that could happen. He quickly got up and threw that spoon into the trash, reached into the drawer for another spoon and sat down.

Only for the same thing to happen AGAIN!

"FFFFFF [Fifty percent off!]" He yelled, already done with whatever the fuck was going on with spoons now. It all started with that gag gift, that fucking brittle as hell spoon that he tried to get rid of but it just kept coming back! And now? The rest of his spoons are doing THIS SHIT!

This is stupid. Unbelievably stupid. So he just resorts to drinking the rest of his cereal-and-milk from the bowl itself, because he doesn't need to deal with that. He has enough to deal with, thank you very much.

Idly, he looks at the remnants of the spoon on the table, thoroughly annoyed that he's being emotionally harassed by a piece of shitty, probably lead-based metal so early in the morning. His liver is likely halfway shot, though, so in all honesty, a little lead isn't as concerning to him as it should be. At least he thinks. Most people worry about lead, at least he thinks. Or maybe it's nickel they don't like. It's too early in the morning for him to be able to remember which is which.

Wasn't lead the one that attacked the nervous system? He thought he had heard about it not going through the digestive tract since it was inhaled. Something about lack of detoxification. Maybe he didn't have to worry about his liver after all this time and more about his sanity.

He walks up to his drawer and inspects the rest of the spoons there. He'd rather not have them turn out this shitty too. And he especially doesn't want to find out they're brittle as fuck and just shatter while using them when he's eating dinner.

So he takes another spoon out and carefully tests its stability. The spoon lightly bends when he's using increased force, but seems fine. He tries another two before deciding they're not shitty either, putting them back and heading to work.

He does the same when he is having some shitty instant soup for dinner this evening and the spoons still work normally. Or so he thought until he put the first bite to his mouth.

He doesn't even apply the slightest bit of pressure to the spoon when it does the same thing his spoon this morning did.

Fuck. Better throw all of them away.

Chapter Text

Bill tried to not too suspiciously hover over the letter he was "creating" right now - not writing, he was piecing together the words through letters from old newspapers he had cut out previously like they would in old crime dramas.

Flo had likely already caught on he was scheming something. Despite how much of a dumb bitch she was she sadly wasn't stupid.

Through some of his interdimensional contacts, Bill had gathered dirt on the "allmighty, holy" Spaghet

"What are you doing?" She glared at him, knowing something was up if he wasn't telling her what he was doing. Sometimes he really has to damn himself for talking as much as he does, so whenever he's NOT telling her what he's doing she knows something is up.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Well, that's too bad for you! Maybe you should mind your own business."

"Maybe you should just tell me what's happening before you manage to blow us up, or something." She retorts, impatient and angry as always. "Always bitching at me for being a shitty roommate, but here you are, doing secret arts-and-crafts. What, are you scheming to get us EXTRA killed?"

Bill huffs, rolling his eye as he pauses in his work, hand tight around his scissors. "Not my problem, Flo." He bites, trying to focus on his work. The sooner it's done, the sooner she'll shut up. Hopefully. Maybe. Okay, no, no chance in pasta-hell Flo will learn but silence is, but he can at least try.

But if all goes well, he'll never have to hear her screeching , annoying voice again. Once and for all, although the last time he hoped he thought he had gotten rid of her she still managed to to haunt him.

He carefully arranges the letters, thinks twice about every sentence. It has to be as menacing as possible- a thing he is quite good at being, if he's honest with himself. Which he always is.

When the Spaghetti Monster sees this, it will have no choice but to let Bill walk out of Pasta Hell and back into the living world. It wouldn't want its little secret to go out into the world, would it?

Chapter Text

"Listen, kid. I-- I don't fully know what's happening, where, there's clearly things that Wi--your father hasn't discussed with me, but he's not... I don't think it'd be great for you to stick around. To have to deal with him. Here's some money. Enough for the trip back, and some food, and such, and if you want my phone number to contact me in case that'd be fine--"

"I can't go back", Michael cut him off. For a young teen, he did sound rather serious.

"Well, surely this isn't a home for a child and I don't think I'd be fit to, well... be a parent... Not to mention William..." Miles could barely stand looking into the child's eyes.

"You don't understand. It's not so great back there, and to be honest..." He trailed off, looking a bit upset.

"What is it?" Miles inquires.

"It's just all very uncomfortable over at Mom's and I just... you're not like the other adults in my life. Not like my father, my mom, the people in my town."

Miles was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You care about me. And about doing what you think is right, and you feel more like a dad to me than my own father."

"Oh." He starts, not sure where to go with that. "Oh-- well, I--" He starts, or tries, but the words are clumsy, for once.

"Listen, just forget I said anything. Give me the money, I can leave--" Michael starts.

"No, no, that's not what I meant by it. Just-- we'll just have to figure something out, then. It's doable, I think, and it will likely be annoying knowing how William can get... you probably know that better than I do, what am I saying--" He sighs. "The point is, I might be able to work something out. I'll talk to him, at the very least, so maybe we can get this sorted."

Chapter Text

Wonka has recently found himself dropping into a certain schedule of work, staying at home with long, and visiting Edna on the weekends sometimes, and as life would have it it's one of those weekends.

He finds himself hesitating at the front door. Even if he practically grew up here, it's still a hard habit to break, where his finger hovers above the doorbell a little too long until he grits his teeth and manages to press it. The sound radiates through the house, and he waits.

Eventually, the door opens, and it's his aunt, looking up as always. "Well what are you standing around for? Come in, come in." She coaxes, but something in her gazes has a hint of a knowing look to it.

He follows her inside, as always, shuts the door, like usual, taking off his shoes before padding into the house. He never HAD to take them off, but he did anyway.

He sits down at the table, while Edna serves him tea. Rooibos - not really to his extravagant taste, but it's good to step back a bit, take the time to enjoy mundane things. Even if the tea is severely lacking in taste.

He is being bombarded with questions about his life, his relationship

"So, how is your relationship going? Hope he has been treating you well. He hasn't given me a reason to think otherwise. Yet."

"We're running things well at the factory, and he's been good to me. Affectionate."

She gave a small smile, "Good. You haven't seen any of our relatives lately, have you?"

He gave her a look at that question.

"Uh, no? I don't think so."

"Very good."

Chapter Text

Flo never got to find out what Bill's little letter was. She wouldn't stop bugging him about it for days, either. Well, until she gave up entirely and her snide remarks turned into indignant silence. He got the silence he wanted, sure, but it's one of her hiss-fit silent treatments, where all she does is glare and pout and leave the room if he tries to ask her something. It's so... annoying.

It really pisses him off, actually. Who does she think he is? Won't stop yapping at him,

nag,

nag,

nag,

And then goes completely radio silent? What gives her the right? At least he'll be ditching her soon, which, thank FUCK, because the stal, cheap beer down here is awful to stomach and doesn't help any. Man, he would kill to get a pint at O' Sadley's again. Literally. Maybe a good cry, too.

The thought fills him with bittersweet joy and nostalgia. And also a pang of emotion, but that's beside the point! Point is, he's getting out of this one and hopefully won't have to ever see Flo again!

One could only hope. Well. Actually. He could do more than hope. With that letter, he should be golden--and more than just in the colour, sense. All he has to do is wait, now. And he should be set.

Soon he'll be out of this hellscape, and everyone he knew will wish he wasn't.

Chapter Text

William Afton was sitting at his usual spot in his favourite gay bar, the one he used to work in and also the only one in the city. His week had been... troublesome to say the least. First his good for nothing son decided to make an appearance during the best and most peaceful time of his life, immediately destroying it and then he also had his first fight with Miles in months. He also found out that his high-off-his-ass self from a few years ago apparently decided to smoke his divorce papers instead of ever signing them.

Now he was hiding in this shitty bar - "his bar" - drinking shitty cocktails and oh no- someone sat down besides him...

"Why hello." Someone greets, and he ignores them. The voice sounds familiar--but he doesn't turn to look at whoever it is, simply sipping on his drink.

"Well it's not very polite to ignore someone you know, now is it, William?" The person says, and his head immediately snaps over to look at him.

"Vanessa? What the FUCK," He says once he recognizes the woman next to him. Ah, yes. one of his many Exes. "What are you doing here?"

"Happenstance, William. That's all." She says, smiling, and her smile seems different.

"And why are you talking like that?" he bites.

"Years can change people. You out of anyone should know that, Will."

"Don't call me that."

"It's what I used to call you all the time back then, don't you remember?"

"You've... never called me that and you certainly won't now", he tells her, firmly. Can't even go into your favourite run-down bar these days without being harassed by some fling from ten years ago... Most people around here are merely some more or less recent hookups from back when he used to work here. Before he met Miles. And also a little bit after they've met.

"Oh? But I did." Vanessa says, sounding irritated. Her elegant composure (whenever did she attain that?) falters ever so slightly.

Anyways, what a lucky coincidence I meet you here. I wanted to talk to you about a tiny little problem you might be facing right now. You know, still very small."

Chapter Text

It was one of the few times Spamton decided to try having a good time by himself for once. Sure, he had gotten texts from A. asking him about what the hell ever was on the magazines, but besides that he is basically about as okay as you'd expect him to be.

Which is exactly why he's trying to treat himself in a diner, by himself, hiding his face in the menu until he receives his food.

He ate, enjoyed his meal and was getting out money to leave a tip for the nice waitress who served him, which was also when he noticed two familiar people walking up to him. Wont Stone and his ex. As he was about to get up from the booth did he basically get blocked in by Capgras.

"Hey now, look, I know you won't be coming back to my show and that's okay! There's no cameras here right now and your bud over here just has something to say!"

He looked skeptically at them but decided to listen, while also thinking of making a run for it if this situation turns sour.

Wont Stone nudges the Onceler, who tumbles forward into Spamtons direction a but, looking back at Wont Stone, then at Capgras and finally at Spamton. Although Spamton isn't entirely sure on the last part as the Onceler is still wearing his sunglasses.

"Hello Spamton", the Onceler starts and for once he actually seems to be SOBER?? Is this Wonts doing?

"It's uh... it's been a long time since we've properly talked and to be honest, the last few months have been... bad. For me, but I know I've made them hell for you too. THis whole dying thing.

I've came to tell you I'm broken, I'm very clearly broken, but so are you! So maybe we can go back to being broken together. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you with this, with whoever this guy is. Honestly, I don't even remember his name. Cumgrass?"

Mr. Capgras shot him a disgusted and pissed off look for a short moment, before putting on a smile. Despite that, his eyes twitched in a way that anyone could clearly see he was pissed.

"Anyway, maybe we should be pathetic together and live together sometime? Perhaps we can even move away somewhere different where we don't have to be this broken. Maybe somewhere quainter? All I know is I want you in my life."

Spamton cannot believe what he was hearing, and for once, he really knows the full extent of what was wrong with his relationship.

The two of them were pathetic, the only difference is he eventually got better and The Onceler wants the status quo to be God, with the only thing changing is the location.

So, he really only had one response left for him, he finally stood up and looked up at him, and simply said these couple of words,

"[WE'RE THROUGH!]"

He walked off, but not before noticing how depressed his ex looked, as well as what seemed to be a hint of recognition oddly enough on his expression when he said those words.