nineliabilityrisk

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🌧 show me charlie emily :)

and i return, to a small world its corners fold, into a bad paper boat. where did it go? where did your life go?

#m | ooc ; charlie #her......... #cant believe i didnt see this. #if youre cold shes cold. let her inside. please cmon its raining let her in

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save me michael afton save me

#m | ooc ; michael #ough.... boy tummy

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rest in peace michael afton you wouldve loved the pokemon games

#ooc | nines speaks #yes i know he was “alive” when the first games came out. but do you really think he wouldve gotten the chance to play them #rotting corpse plays pokemon red!!! (real!! not clickbait!!!!!!) #// also my tumblrs still broken. can only view posts on my for you tab. following tab + ppls blogs (including my own) are still not loading. #so bear with me i likely am not seeing everything that gets posted. i also cant open reblogs of my own posts or my asks that get answered #i get the notifs but cant open them #so :( yeah

[nineliabilityrisk]

michael headcanons…

what do you think of the silly

making this at 2 am let's. fucking GO

- Genderweird disabled trans faggot.

- Chronic pain, doubled chronic fatigue after he gets scooped.

- In addition to that, he utilizes forearm crutches post scoop.

- William gave him Springbonnie's electric guitar after the place shut down and the suits were put into storage. He hates it but begrudgingly plays it every now and then.

- Also drives William's 74 Dodge Challenger R/T in Plum Crazy Purple, maintains it up until the late 2000s when it finally dies on him. Probably sells it to some collector for a pretty penny, proceeds to buy an 02 Pontiac Firebird to fix up for cheap.

- Really big fan of classic rock and shoegaze, but open to expanding his horizons.

- Used to love to draw, but he doesn't really do it much anymore. Sticks to little silly doodles on the borders of pages and sticky notes.

- He doesn't appreciate slasher movies as much as Jeremy does due to his family's history, but he's content with watching them with him.

- Mechanically inclined, though this interest of his was Also ruined by his father.

More post scoop stuff:

- The whole. Remnant cannibalism thing. Yeah.

- His eyes develop a tapetum lucidum; that eye shine that animals have.

- He also really, really hates throwing up. Thanks, Ennard.

- As he collects more remnant to sustain himself, his organs slowly grow back and rearrange themselves into the proper place. It's quite painful and leaves him out of action for a long time.

- In addition, as his heart regains function, it beats much slower than any normal human, leading to bad circulation and tingling numbness. This causes him to seek out any source of warmth, a favorite of his being electric blankets and the floor furnace they have at home.

- His bones are metallic due to the left over excess metal minerals leeching into them. TSA will have a lot of questions.

- In fact, his teeth are also metallic. There's an additional set of endoskeleton teeth permanently fixed to the roof of his mouth, but they're too high and too far back to be of any use.

- His keratin nails have been replaced with metal as well, and will grow back if (somehow) cut.

- His hair is extremely brittle and difficult to maintain because of it. Due to his chronic fatigue, he can't hold his arms up for very long in order to do this, so outside assistance is required.

- In addition, he needs a shower chair as he can't stand for long periods either.

- Sleeps for long periods of time. Like, 12 hours minimum, or in short naps.

#m | ooc ; michael #hcs | c ; michael #SO REAL FOR ALL OF THIS OP #either we have the same brain or your michael has influenced my interpretation a whole lot more than i thought because . yeah. so real #disabled transgender michael realness. are you kidding me #chronic pain chronic fatigue forearm crutch user with weird little bits of animatronic parts still left in him. #remnant healing him no matter how slowly and painfully. #always seeming Not Quite Fully Human (re: glowy eyes / metal bones etc etc) no matter how much he heals. #seeking out warmth wherever he can because its so much harder for his body to maintain a stable temperature. yeah. Yeah . #🤝🤝🤝 #same brain same michael. you are so real for all of this

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i love these creatures........

designs belong to @psiirockin <33333

based off this meme lmao

#m | ooc ; michael #others | ooc ; helpy #KEEP HIM LOOKING FRESH

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animatronics fixing animatronics

#m | ooc ; michael #others | ooc ; roxanne wolf #them...... #i think pizzaplex mike should meet cassie. maybe

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update on my tumblr being broken: still cant see any posts on my following tab OR posts ON MY OWN BLOG. so i cant put this in a reblog of my first post i also dont know if this is a tumblr mobile only problem or not but i dont have access to desktop tumblr rn. please bear with me if im missing anything

#ooc | nines speaks

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boob window showing off the gaping hole in my chest

#m | ooc ; michael #yeah

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am i the only one whose following page hasnt been working for like a day and a half. ive only been able to browse on my for you and havent been able to view the notes on any posts i see. ive just been in tumblr purgatory and im scared i cant post / am missing things because of it

#ooc | nines speaks #im. so confused i want my tumblr back

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Henry's dry humor was a welcome respite from the— well, the everything, really. It even earned a smile and a huff out of the boy. Hearing someone talk to him with just about anything other than disdain in their voice worked to cheer Michael up far more than he'd thought it would. This warm treatment was something he hadn't received in a long, long time ... maybe he could push away that insistent little voice in the back of his head that said he didn't deserve it, at least for a little while. Long enough to enjoy it without beating himself up over it.

After a slight bit of shuffling to get a grip on his bag and get his feet under him, he gingerly takes Henry's hand — he wasn't going to make the old man pull him up, he was more than capable of doing it on his own, but he certainly wasn't going to refuse the extra point of support. The cold rain had left his limbs heavy and unresponsive, extremities nearly entirely numb (the warmth of Henry's palm was a strange sensation, soaked and frigid as his own hand felt — the same comfort he'd feel if he sat himself down right in front of a lit fireplace, which, if he was being honest, sounded really good just about then.) If he wasn't careful, he feared he'd lose his balance just trying to push himself upright.

His frigid, clumsy hand slipped out of Henry's grip once he felt confident he wouldn't topple over the moment it did, moving to brush soaked hair out of his face yet again.

"Sorry, by the way. For just ... showing up like this. Unannounced. It — 't wasn't like I had that many options." The decision to try his luck at Henry's place hadn't been a difficult one for that exact reason — if the man hadn't shown up, or couldn't take him in, he likely would've been left to spend the night on a park bench. With the turn the weather had taken, he doubted he would've lasted long out there.

With that thought came Henry's remark about hypothermia. About what likely could've happened if he was left out here for much longer. His (albeit already weak) smile faltered — he hadn't even considered what memories finding him like this could've dredged up for the older man, too caught up in his own discomfort. It sent a pang of ... something through him, a sensation not unlike if someone had taken his spinal cord and played it like a harp string. Not guilt, not really – at this point, the situation had been pretty much unavoidable on his part (he couldn't control the weather, after all) – but maybe something like sympathy. He'd try to offer a comforting hand on the man's shoulder if it weren't for the fact that most of his body seemed to be ignoring his commands. That level of dexterity felt beyond him at the moment, even if it physically wasn't. He just offered Henry a soft hum and an apologetic expression.

"That... Would probably be for the best," comes the response to Henry stating that they should head inside. He stands there as the man searches for his keys, shivering, his bag clutched to his chest. "... Thank you. By the way." he murmurs, shame creeping up his throat like bile. Shame at being kicked out, shame at needing Henry's help — he knows the man offered said help for a reason, but he still wished he didn't have to inconvenience him like this. Shame at... He didn't know. Being himself. Causing all this shit, inadvertently or not. Today was just another installation in his near-endless track record of fucking things up. Another drop in the bucket. Another... Another random saying that he couldn't pry from the recesses of his sluggish brain.

"I hope this isn't, like... Too much trouble, or anything. I — I just need a place for the night. I can be out of your hair by morning if that's..." A pause. He's too cold to think, let alone string together a proper sentence. "If you need me to."

GUEST (henry @ younger mike?)

" 1. GUEST : for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. "

-- [ asked by @muutos ] --

Look. It wasn't like Mike was trying to get himself kicked out. He wasn't. But it just... It hadn't been a good day for him, at home. For either of them, really, the only two Aftons still standing.

School had been horrible, of course - sure, he was taller now, and stronger, and he could defend himself just fine, but his peers didn't even bother with the physical harassment anymore. They'd gotten tired of it, over the years. They'd burnt out somewhere around the transition between middle and high school. They were used to having him around, now, the freak who had killed his own baby brother. Now, they just ignored his existence. Maybe, if he was lucky, they'd acknowledge him enough to scoff at him, or let him lock eyes long enough to see the pure disdain painted on their faces, but no more. Everyone knew him, and everyone hated him - it was a small town, after all, and any newcomers learned quick.

In the end, he readily accepted it. He deserved every last bit of their treatment, for what he did. In fact, he probably deserved worse. Still, no matter how hard he tried to resign himself to his fate, the social isolation was most definitely getting to him. Total exclusion at school, and even less comfort at home - it wasn't hard for him to start feeling like he was the only one who cared for himself. And, even then, the validity of that statement varied from day to day. He was struggling. When was the last time someone was genuinely kind to him? When was the last time someone hugged him? It pained him to think it, but... It was probably Evan. Before... Before everything. Before Michael started treating him like shit for things that he didn't even do. Before he made the biggest mistake of his life.

By the time he got home, after walking what felt like halfway across town, because God forbid his father actually give him enough money to buy himself a stupid fucking bike - or even a car, no matter how blasphemous that would be to imagine - to get around, he was just about ready to break down.

Fuck, he hated this. He hated it all. His key took three separate tries to get into the lock. William was at the kitchen table fiddling with some stupid mechanical part with his eyes locked on his stupid blueprints, not even noticing his son's return - God, he was getting whatever gunk was on that thing all over the damn table - and that was it. Michael just... Couldn't. He dug his fingernails into his palms, took a deep inhale to try and stave off his tears long enough to get to his room, and took off, as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion.

He made it before he started audibly sobbing, just barely. The door slammed shut, despite his intentions - he had completely forgotten his father's rule about having his door closed. Flinging his backpack onto his bed and his window wide open, he leaned as close as he dared to it. His lungs ached, he needed the fresh air - the air inside the house was suffocating him, or maybe it was the person inside the house with him. He didn't know. He couldn't tell. He could never tell.

He had barely managed to steady his breathing and wipe the worst of his tears from his eyes before William barged through the door and saw him at the window. That damned window. It was futile to try and explain that he wasn't sneaking out again - his words fell on deaf ears. It's pretty safe to say that the 'conversation' [read: screaming match] that ensued did not go very well.

And that was how one Michael Afton found himself slumped on Henry Emily's doorstep, shivering, soaked from the rain that had started a scant few minutes after sunset. He'd curled himself around his backpack to protect his school supplies and the one change of clothes he'd managed to pack before his father chased him out, but his little sleeveless tee wasn't doing a very good job of protecting him. He'd been doing his best to rest, eyes fluttering shut for a few minutes at a time, but he finally woke back up - at least partially - to the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway.

Once the driver of said van - a very modest vehicle, well suited to a family man like Henry - approached the front door, the freezing lump of teenaged boy finally moved, looking up at him and pushing his soaked hair back off of his forehead and out of his eyes. It was getting long. Not that he minded.

"Heeeeey, Uncle Henry. I fucked up. Maybe. Just a lil' bit," he slurred, voice very much affected by the chill and the fatigue, both emotional and physical. "I think m'dad hates me. Y'know. More than usual this time."

#m | ic: threads ; michael #others | ic: threads ; henry #interactions ; michael & henry #muutos #[[ replies tag ]] #[[ queued ]]

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michael doodles

#m | ooc ; michael #m | ooc ; jeremy #ooc | dyn ; jeremike #cw blood #cw body horror #hrrgh them. biting them. with my Teeths (/pos)

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[rotten hand thrusts blindly out of the dirt] we - [head and shoulders emerge heaving from the soil] - are so - [claws and squirms to free more of my body from the clutches of the grave] - fucking - [staggers to my feet] - back [coughs up a clump of dirt]

#m | ooc ; michael #sbverse michael....... yeah

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Men love me for my cadaver swag. The way my skin is cold like a corpse, my off-putting demeanor, and the way I stand in the threshold of the still-living and the dead.

#m | ooc ; michael #this one goes out to blue for listening to me infodump about post ennard mike for hours these past couple days #michael afton my rotting little babygirl

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once again have been trying to get back into the swing of things and get back to dropping replies in the queue but i. once again am starting to feel some. weird anxiety surrounding using the tumblr app in general for more than just a few minutes at a time. there is definitely a reason but i cant really put it into words. but this also in turn makes me feel avoidant towards trying to write. so um . know that my writing brain is kicked back into gear and im thinking about plots and threads i have going again so i should be good to get those replies done when i can get back i just. dont quite feel comfy hanging around on here at the moment. so.

plus im also working on getting a job so thats taking up a bunch of my time. but ill be back once this whole mess has gone away

if yall can / want to catch up with me elsewhere and talk feel free to. those of yall who have my disc.ord user are always free to message me and those of yall that dont can always ask.

anyway yeah 👍 peace out ill check in soonish

#ooc | nines speaks #this happens sometimes. just getting that general feeling of 'ick' about using tumblr again. #theres a lot of contributing factors and this has happened more than a couple times in the span of this blog running #but i figured id be upfront about where i went off to. #i know these “ive been trying to come back but xyz” posts are fucking annoying. im stopping after this one. #but id rather yall know that i am still around. i havent abandoned this place i swear

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The slightest spark of irritation at William's amusement is luckily quick to fade. Henry doesn't have the energy to defend himself — not tonight. He bites back a harried 'if only it was that easy,' lets himself relax back against his chair, indulging in the warmth, the closeness, if only for a moment.

Still. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he murmurs in response to William's offer. Not out of a genuine reluctance – God only knows how difficult it was for him to deny the man anything at all, and how much harder it would be to refuse the company at a time like this – but because he felt he didn't deserve such niceties. Not now, at least, not with the state he was in — he knew he wasn't exactly the best person to be around ... hadn't been for weeks, now. Haunted as he was, mentally absent more often than not, he'd been finding it difficult to hold conversation. Even with William, the one person who'd understood him best all these years, it'd been a struggle. William didn't need a man like him in his home. Didn't need to spend his valuable time on him. Not until he could pull himself together, could 'get over it,' as unlikely as that was.

Henry Emily was a man ridden with grief. (They both were, he knew that. The fact only made this all so much worse. How William managed to stay so functional in comparison to the way he himself had crumbled under the stress was beyond him. Completely unaware of the other side of the man he'd never been shown. Afton's carefully constructed façade still doing so much to fool him.) He wasn't someone that anyone could possibly want to be around. Taking William's offer felt far too much like imposing his own presence into the other man's life. He didn't need the company – the comfort – enough to make Will deal with his sorry ass for the entire night.

"It does sound nice, though," he cautiously admits. Can't sound too attached to the idea, not if he wants William to believe that he doesn't need it. "Thank you."

It clearly wouldn't take too much of a push to convince him to go along with it — not with how much tension leaves his form at the feeling of Will's hands in his hair. Henry's own longing was doing most of the work for him.

All he needed was to know that William was certain. That his offer was genuine and he wouldn't regret it if Henry agreed. He hadn't yet caught on to the fact that the man had made it for his own personal gain, too blinded by his own desire to self-isolate.

"I guess... If that's what you really want. I'd have to be a fool to say 'no.'"

@nineliabilityrisk asked: ❝ " ... i haven't been getting much sleep . " from henry [ i'm insane about them as per usual ] ❞ ( my wip fics starters, pt. ii )

"It sounds like you're no better than me," came an easy reply, a seemingly snide statement softened by his hands resting on Henry's shoulders. He was standing behind his business partner's chair, thumbs rolling down into muscles. One part easing tense muscles, one part finding an excuse to touch. ( Always. ) "I suppose it's my turn to do the scolding. Get some rest." A sharp smile accompanied the words, amusement seeping into his tone just enough. Usually it was Henry saying these things to him—despite not being aware of how many hours William truly spent working. His fingers shifted higher, thumbs working into the nape of Henry's neck. Even sight unseen, his expression warmed, smile taking on something gentler. "Come home with me." Word choice was intentional—not manipulative but perhaps presumptuous. Had built his perfect family to society's standards once, and now attempted it to his own liking. A house made less empty by Henry's presence—a very wanted presence, if a dangerous one. Adults do not overlook what rebellious teenagers do.

"Is it the dreams?" Speaking generally—not even William Afton was immune to being haunted by his losses. ( Regardless of who was at fault. ) "I'll make tea and we can rest." His fingers combed through Henry's hair, languid movements. "No 'nightmare' can haunt you while I'm there." Part joke, part comfort. Never mind who had caused the nightmares.

#m | ic: threads ; henry #others | ic: threads ; william afton #interactions ; willry #spring-lxcked #[[ replies tag ]] #[[ queued ]]

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mike n jerm

#m | ooc ; michael #m | ooc ; jeremy #ooc | dyn ; jeremike #cw blood

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been thinking about my muses even though ive been way too busy to write. todays topic was michael so.

adding a cut bc these rambles are probably gonna end up ridiculously long

my michael uses (SHOULD use. stubborn headass often refused when he was little because he thought people would judge him.) mobility aids. even pre-scooping his repeated injuries from getting into fights / being needlessly reckless only exaggerated certain pre-existing conditions he had (weak / unstable joints + chronic pain making prolonged periods of unsupported standing / walking difficult)

when he was younger, before everything went to shit, he did get brought to the doctor and recommended an orthotic brace for his bad knee and a set of forearm crutches to help take the weight off his lower joints. he used the brace a lot when he was little and his crutches a little less often, but as he grew up and outgrew the sizing for both, there came a certain point where william couldnt be bothered to take him in for fittings or get them replaced (especially after an incident when someone at his school broke one of his crutches — after '83 william never really bothered intervening in any bullying related incidents involving michael and probably rationalized not getting him a new set by telling himself the boy deserved the treatment as punishment for what hed done)

so he stopped using said mobility aids for a good few years, but after he moved out and before the time sl rolled around, he did end up scraping together the money to at least get himself a new pair of crutches because his pain was only getting worse the longer he went without them. sure he didnt hold many jobs where he was made to stand for extended periods of time but after a certain point it ended up making some everyday tasks incredibly difficult for him

anyway um. obviously he could never bring his crutches with him into circus babys. imagine trying to crawl through a vent while dragging those things along i would die. he hated it at the time but he is at least somewhat grateful that he didnt end up losing them when he got scooped because there was no way he would end up being able to afford a replacement pair, especially not with how hard finding jobs was post-ennard

especially after ennard leaves, his Everything Hurts All The Time problems just get worse, and he ends up relying on the crutches far more than he ever did when he was alive — no matter how much (or how little) the remnant heals him, the nerve damage he experienced from his body quite literally rotting away isnt exactly something that just disappears overnight. his crutches help take some of the weight off his legs — he found out after breaking his femur that even his bones had beem affected by the animatronic's prolonged stay, seeming far more brittle than before. he gets pinched nerves / numbness from where the crutch rests just below his elbows sometimes if he puts too much pressure on them, and with a good chunk of his muscle mass rotted away its gotten far more difficult to support his weight on his arms whatsoever, but trying to walk unsupported would just be so much worse.

tl;dr: my michael af.ton is disabled and had been long before ennard happened. i dont bring it up much because i cant often find times where its relevant, but it is a fact about him that i almost always keep in mind.

[ this entire post was written by a disabled individual who uses the exact mobility aids spoken on in this post. mentioning the incidents where michaels access to his mobility aids was limited / removed by others OR younger michael refusing to use them does not mean i am trivializing such experiences or supporting those actions myself. a disabled persons mobility aids are an extension of their body and should be treated as such. taking away his crutches likely did lasting damage to his joints + the rest of his body. if you are someone who needs a mobility aid – no matter if you dont feel like you need it "enough," if you think it will help you and improve your quality of life that means you need it – never feel ashamed to use it or avoidant due to fear of the opinions of others. mobility aids are important medical devices and should be respected as such. ]

#ooc | nines speaks #m | ooc ; michael #cw ableism #cw injury #cw medical neglect #[on w.ills part] #this whole post makes me think about my j.eremy and his disabilities both mental and physical. might ramble about him some day