#(h) revvnant

[spannerstruck]

"How long are you going to refuse to trust me?"

HE’D TRUSTED AN AFTON BEFORE. LEARNED HIS LESSON THE HARD WAY NOT TO BE SO FOOLISH: he’d be the first to steer clear now, knowing what he knows. Hindsight digs its fingers into his skull and laughs at him. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . .

He can’t shake the image, despite it all, of Fredbear’s jaw crunching.

Adjusting his glasses shouldn’t tire him as much as it does now. It’s less the action and more what he knows clearer vision will bring him: William’s doppelgänger stands before him, in the flesh, and Henry almost can’t take it. Wants to reach out and hug the kid; wants to move back, conversely, and run in the other direction. He’d thought of the boy as a son once, when things had been crisp and cool and the world had been a little kinder. It’s summer now, not spring, and the hot sun pools in the grief lines of his face and the history between them. It’s not as simple as that, Mike, he debates saying. Glances down instead, face resigned.

“ You’re . . . ” A good kid, Michael. He’d be lying if he said he believed that. Isn’t sure the Aftons have the ability to be good. Henry deliberates, awkward, resigned. “ I don’t trust your father, ” he says instead, which is at least truthful but also code for which means I can’t trust you either. “ I’m not moving away permanently— ” Isn’t he ? “ —but I need time. Away from everything that’s happened here. ” Tired eyes lift up to Michael, seeking absolution. Don’t blame me. I can barely face the sight of you. “ You understand, right ? ”

[trapton]

h. ha. hap. it's day.

🔧 @revvnant (𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 '𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 ******** 𝚍𝚊𝚢' 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖)

𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜. 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 . his house is awkward, and heavy with burden... and he assumed it is for the both of them. hidden nanny-cams lining his house, that have been there since before any of his children died. though they hadn't been as sinister as they had become. pseudo bonding and seething over his remaining child, while ensuring the bloody boy stays alive long enough. just until he has the good sense to fuck off and never come back. 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢. he's possessive over his creations. whether possession bred itself from hatred, love... 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑. he's a lanky ghost. hair tied in a ponytail that hasn't been touched in a week. full grey. the sides spilling out over his cheeks, as his knobby fingers scrape at his belt-loop seam. nail making a sharp noise, whilst jaw flexes and brows crinkle. "you don't have to..." is all he says.

[thecrownbaltimore]

RATSCAPE After Party is TONIGHT at 7PM in the BLUE Room with Tromac Pineapple, Kente, Franklin, Bath Consolidated, Stairwell H, NASA8, Lo-tek, Alms, Ion Ion, Dan Mansion, and Revvnant - $5 👑 #ratscape (at The Crown) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0GgL06pCwH/?igshid=1ocflz3fsozf7