Catharsis of the lilies (William Afton x Reader)

Chapter one, The first catharsis

QUICK A/N (author's note):
(song shown above where photo thingy is called Sketches Of Canada, which is the song with multiple pieces in it that y/n is playing with the band. it's so fuckin' vibey i love it so much- but then again idk if it'll show up for everyone- so- rip-)
Before you read the story, i'd like to explain something. I've written y/n in a specific way for the story line and for certain events. Such as how they perceive the world and the people around them. I choose to write them this way to be able to demonstrate how y/n gets manipulated and everything at the cause of their abandonment and attachment issues, while believing that they are alone in the world, searching for things to "save them".

Massive trigger warning for murder, depression, obsession, knives, blood, death, and basically anything of a dark topic?

Also, let's just pretend willy is like 21-22 in 1993 because why the fuck not-

Very obvious trigger warning, mental illness, abuse, obsession, family issues, dark topics.

(END OF A/N)

Mini dictionary because there may be some words not everyone knows the definition of:
-Lacuna = gap, missing piece
-illecebrous = Enticing, tending to attract, to attract in general
-Kalopsia = delusion of things being more beautiful than they actually are, a beautiful sight, beautiful eyes
-Catharsis = Process of releasing and providing relief from strong pent up emotions (One way is through ✨music✨)
-Rubatosis = unsettling awareness of heartbeat
-Miridical = Wondrous, amazing
-Brumous = Of grey skies and winter days, heavy clouds, fog.
-Selcouth = unfamiliar, rare, marvellous, enchanting
-Abditory = place you can disappear in

Entry 1 (July 15th, 1993) I would never think to classify or to refer to myself as an interesting person, or someone worthy enough to ever even think of winning some kind of "nobel prize". I was average, so average. Ordinary and unexceptional enough that I somehow managed to become a person below "normal". Below society's standards that were expected of everyone born into these flesh prisons we so call "bodies". I don't even think to view myself as a person, however just as consciousness who simply inhabits some kind of body that was never made for me. Everyone lives and dies, that's simply the cycle of life for every existing and living being that has ever lived and will live. It's an ongoing theme that cannot be stopped because that is how life and new beginnings work. Therefore, I cannot wait to be freed from my earthly prison, I so call, a body. However in the meantime,ultimately waiting for my demise, there are some things that make "living" worthwhile, such as music. Never underestimate the quote saying "music is good for the soul". Even though it may be unexceptional-sounding since it isn't "fancy" but please, never judge a book by its cover. The quote is very much real and accurate, as for in my experience making, playing, listening and producing music has made living worthwhile for me and many other individuals who crave freedom from being bound, chained and imprisoned in these fleshy, earthly bodies that nobody has ever asked for.

I play flute, guitar, trumpet, and basically any instrument you can name. I may not be very good at everything but at least I know something. At least I know enough to play and to produce any song I could ever ask for. I must be the happiest person existing, being able to play any instrument beautifully, my life is a dream come true. Not. I am probably the most miserable person alive who sees no value in living for anything other than music. Nobody's ever actually liked me, genuinely. There are many fake people who only befriended me because they have to be around me everyday. I'm not friends with anybody, however the only people who are around me are the people who have to tolerate me, oh and on the topic of people "liking me" I might as well talk about family. We all love family. Right. They always claim to be there for you and to love you not because it's true, but because they're family and they have to. That's why I left home at 17 and moved to Utah to get away from them, since for as long as I can remember, I've been the ghost child who no one ever cared enough to check up on. Flash forward 4 years, I'm 21 now and in a band that performs all around Utah and serves as entertainment typically for restaurants, parties and local events like parades. It's fun, I have to admit. Out of all the bad, there is some good. I claimed to have nobody in my life, I lied. I have one person, my best friend, the person who isn't afraid to drag my ass out to events or meetings or movies or anything. This person likes me. Maybe. If she didn't then she wouldn't have bothered to drag me out to have fun. She is another thing that makes living life worthwhile, and I enjoy spending time with her too. She's the type of person who's overly energetic and basically hyperactive, but I don't see a problem with that. I love her- platonically. She's my best friend and not to mention she's the person who dragged my ass into the music group. In a way, I need her to stay sane- or I just need her in general. She plays the bass clarinet, and I usually play the flute, although I also play saxophone quite often, even though the sole reason I learnt it is for the purpose of playing Careless Whispers by George Michael.