#(xox) last man standing: william & henry.

[runelocked]

“ did you not say that we were made for each other ? “ ( from henry / cries / @ladyseidr )

AND HE HONESTLY BELIEVES THAT. SMILES SO EARNESTLY NOW, DESPITE THE FACT BOTH OF THEM KNOW THAT HIS HANDS ARE BLOODY. Lies crumbling, hands like testimonies never clean, yet all William can do is smile at Henry now. Bare his teeth. It’s loving, it really is, though whether Henry recognizes the deranged expression on his face as the same soft tender way he looks at Henry when they’re alone, William doesn’t know. At this point it hardly matters. Saunters closer now, a light drawn to a moth, pausing before he fully breaches the distance. He leaves space to breathe, space to avoid being punched. Space to hide from Henry the creeping crawling contentment that comes with acknowledgement. By this point William knows he’s made for Henry. But to hear Henry throwing his own words back at him, a brief recognition of what he’s done to him, makes his smile brighten.

“We are.” No need to sugarcoat his words at this point. The truth drapes over both their shoulders like a snake, heavy and scaly and real. William’s voice is still affectionate, still coaxing, as if Henry doesn’t know the horrible reality about his best friend. “Of course we are.” It’s part of the reason he’d killed Charlotte. Oh, Charlie. William misses her, he truly does. If she’d been anyone other than Henry’s child he’d have loved her more than his own. But William has always felt distinctly and deeply alone, except from with Henry, and now Henry stands before him alone too. It’s electrifying. It’s horrible. “We’ve made ourselves for each other, you know. When was the last time you thought of yourself and who you were without also considering me?” William hasn’t thought of himself as a single unit since college, not really. Henry has always been there, stitched to his skin. Maybe he’s just sick. “Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve become.” All the people I’ve killed. The experiments performed. The children lost. “It makes us fit together, Henry. That hasn’t changed. It never will. Do you know that?”

[runelocked]

Something is wrong. William can tell that much from his old friend’s face: he knows nothing of time loops and nothing [ yet ] of remnant, but he does know Henry Emily — he’s always held a special place for him in his heart, where he carves out a fondness for all things that belong to him. Henry Emily is predictable, reliable: someone he has known inside and out; up until this very moment.

Something is wrong. Something has changed: Henry is looking at him with such expectation, such guarded hesitation, that for a moment, William almost feels betrayed at the suspicions he knows Henry currently harbours. Never mind the blade in his pockets or the fact he had removed the key from its usual spot: for the first time, he feels his friend’s eyes on him, and does not know what to say to alleviate the tension.

Charlie scampers away. So close, so far. William’s bloodlust roars at the sight of her: he takes half a step after her, so caught up in the moment that he is torn between reassuring his best friend and carrying through his promise to himself. He lingers, shooting a sharp, shrewd look towards Henry: and drags out what he hopes to be a pleased smile.

“ Of course. She’s as good as mine— ” [ And soon neither of us will have her, and you will have no one, and— ] “ You know I think fondly of her, Hen. ”

A frown graces his features. Faux, exaggerated: in the heat of the moment, logic muffled by alcohol and adrenaline, it is so hard to pretend he cares about Henry’s happy little family.

“ Some of the others were giving her a hard time. I should— check on her. Make sure none of the children are too cruel to her. ”

And finally — finally — seize the opportunity at hand.

FNAF WORLD STARTERS || ALWAYS ACCEPTING! || @slaughterlocked

slaughterlocked asked: ❝ It all makes sense when you think about it. ❞ (with some kind of time loop ?? 👀 for whoever you like, from william ! )

[Hell; that was how Henry might choose to describe this neverending nightmare. It was akin to being trapped in his own personal Hell.]

[Repeating the worst night of his life, doomed to repeat the same mistakes, unable to fix the cycle OR reverse the loss that it had forced upon him again and again. Even if it wasn't his own, if he was able to figure out a way to save her, it was always somebody else. He couldn't escape it.]

[No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't save a single soul that day; every night, he went to bed an absolute wreck, only to awaken and pray that it had all been some terrible dream. It never was. It was always Halloween morning, 1982. He always decorated the restaurant for the party that night with William, zombified, haunted, devastated. He didn't know how to stop it. He didn't know what he could do to change his circumstances.]

[All of his efforts thus far had been concentrated on preventing the deaths of his children ( or those attending the party ); he had never thought to attempt catching the man in the act until a fairly recent loop, when he'd seen the man scurry away from the scene. Away from him. Henry would be careful this time around -- he'd guard Charlie from behind the scenes, and confront her killer whenever he showed up. As for what he might do, he had no idea...but whatever it was, perhaps he could prevent a catastrophe. It'd probably be better than keeping his children by his side at all times, or hiding them somewhere and finding them dead later on.]

[Henry followed through on his plan, showing himself at a moment that would catch the "stranger" off-guard -- only to be taken aback himself. William. It was his own business partner. He couldn't help feeling mistaken -- this had to be wrong. William would never betray him like this, would he? This was surely some misunderstanding; bad timing, a random mix-up in his loops, anything that wasn't...this.]

[As William explained the situation with a plethora of excuses, claiming that it'd "make sense when he thought about it," Henry nodded slowly. He felt dizzy, caught in a sudden mix of doubt and trust. He desperately, desperately wanted to believe William...but his brain wouldn't let this go. He'd need to stick around longer next time...if he had the willpower to do so.]

❝ Right...you're right. ❞ [Henry held his head in his hands, struggling to process William's justification for his appearance. Something about getting Charlie back inside -- the door was locked, but he had a key, etcetera. He quietly ( encouragingly ) patted his daughter's back; a pit in his stomach formed as he briefly wondered whether he was doing the right thing.] ❝ Go on, sweetheart. I'll join you in a bit. ❞ [He looked back to William, a grateful, yet suspicious expression on his features.] ❝ Thanks, William. ❞

[runelocked]

❝ we both know know what you've done. ❞ or ❝ you found my breaking point. congratulations. ❞ from henry :)

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS LYRIC STARTERS / ALWAYS ACCEPTING !

WILLIAM WANTS TO LAUGH. HENRY HAS NO IDEA WHAT HE’S GIVEN HIM. William wants to laugh in his best friend’s stupid fucking face, because Henry has always been too naive to realize just what William has been looking for. A breaking point. Three cheers for William and his obsession with seeing just how far he could bring Henry, and he should be thrilled, and he is, but in that nauseatingly thrilled way he’s come to associate with remnant and blood and thoughts of self - deluded grandiosity. Eyebrow raises automatically, hands reaching out as if he can physically, somehow, smooth Henry’s words, prevent them from feeling so grating and discomfiting. Pausing before he actually touches the man in front of him.

Because sure, William has wanted this. But as with most things nowadays, he’s not entirely sure what to do now that’s he’s got it.

“ Henry. ” He begins with what he knows. A name. Words curling upwards, the only sign that his smug uncertainty isn’t as performative as he might like it to be. Chuckles because he isn’t sure what else to do, used to pushing, but not so used to backing down. “ This is all it took. Really. ” He says that like ‘ this ’ is something very minor, not dead children and unethical experimentation and sheer utter madness. Wants, very suddenly, to tell Henry everything, a rabbit running towards the mouth of a bear. William refrains because he’s not stupid. Not entirely.

“ But you understand why ? ” He checks wildly, and then his hands are grasping, tugging Henry closer. A week of restless sleep and spiralling thoughts leading him to seeking physical contact again when he shouldn’t be given any. Certainly not from Henry, Henry who knows what he’s done to those kids, Henry who doesn’t know yet that he’s the one who killed Charlotte, too, “ You understand what I’ve done. My — My discovery. What I can do now. I mean — ” William’s laugh is arrogant and agitated, sensing he’s pushed Henry perhaps past the point of recovering their relationship, “ I can fix your family, Henry. My own too. This is for both of us. I killed for the two of us, Henry, don’t you understand that ? ” There’s one thing he won’t admit to of his own accord: that no matter how much he claims his actions are for others, over the past few years, they have become increasingly for his own gain over anything else.

[runelocked]

@ladyseidr LIKED FOR A FAZTASTIC CHRISTMAS STARTER !

WILLIAM WON’T LIE TO HIMSELF: YES, HE’D STAYED UP FOR TWO DAYS STRAIGHT TO DECORATE THE DORM ROOM SPECIFICALLY FOR HENRY. Yes, he has a slight infatuation with the other boy. Yes, he has four essays due in six days and things are fine, his priorities are fine, and he’s fine, thank you very much. Covered in twinkling lights, emptily - smiling ornaments, and all kinds of tinsel and beads, William only has seconds to admire the dorm room before he hears the sound of Henry’s keys fumbling in the door.

Shit ! He’s not ready yet. Darting skittishly out of sight to pull on an irritatingly scratchy Christmas sweater, he paints a smile on his face: this will make up for their argument, he’s sure of it. After all, there is nothing even minorly irritating about coming home after a long day to find your roommate has some half - baked scheme to plead for your festive forgiveness. William has even made a Christmas cake: the fruits of his labor sits dejectedly on the centre coffee table, and he gets a burst of pride every time he looks at it. If he ignores the fact it was supposed to be shaped like a tree, and sort of just looks like an indistinct mass. And the fact it’s burnt. Whatever. None of that matters ! Christmas is supposed to be about the GIVING, right ? ———

Because Henry’s pushing the door open, and William is flicking all the lights on in a blinding display of hard work, a smug grin on his face as he loiters proudly in the middle of the room, arms crossed, awaiting his reward from Henry. Something that shows how much Henry appreciates his hard work. The other jumping into his arms and kissing him passionately. Or proposal. Or anything in between. “ I decided I do like the festive period after all, ” he says cheerfully, “ I wanted to celebrate properly for once. Happy Christmas, darling. ”

[runelocked]

i’m still mad at you. / henry

WITH HENRY'S BACK TO HIM, WILLIAM'S SMILE GOES UNNOTICED AND UNRELENTINGLY SMUG. With tender ministration, the man sinks his lips against the other’s shoulder, pressing down feather light before growing more intense. He’s left dozens of marks before similar to the one he’s making now, but each is special: marks Henry as special, though he doesn’t doubt the words his friend mutters so grouchily back at him. “Is that so.” A statement, not a question: he’s not blind; knows when he’s pushed a little past his usual insufferable nature to a point where Henry is genuinely annoyed. So he’s gentle when he tugs him closer, gentle when his lips part to reveal shining teeth that glint before they suck at Henry’s neck; well, as gentle as a wolf can be. “Let me make it up to you, then . . . ”

[runelocked]

SOMEONE IS LAUGHING. OR SCREAMING. MIGHT BE HIMSELF. It hasn’t been able to figure out what noises it is responsible for and what noises it is not. Laughs and cries of children leave him lumbering in circles, while Henry’s voice now leads him on, and still that laughter screaming noise continues. Or maybe it’s just the crackling of flames and it’s really lost its mind now, if it hadn’t already. Voice is raspy and rotted when he calls out, rage climbing after hearing what he perceives to be taunting from the man. “ You will die here, Henry. You cannot escape. This is how it ends for you. This i - i - is not how it ends for me. ” Drags himself through hell because he has to, because it has to, to reach a man he’d once loved.

9 FOR THE APPLE MUSIC REPLAY ! henry maybe ?!

🍭 @slaughterlocked ! / SPOTIFY WRAPPED MEME (MONSTRANCE CLOCK - GHOST)

"AIR IS CLEANSED, assembled flock . . ."

[runelocked]

"hey. you look tired. you alright?" ( from henry / @ladyseidr )

WILLIAM DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER RESPONDING: NOT VERBALLY, NOT INITIALLY, ANYWAY. Instead, he shoves the half - drunk coffee away from him, the mug almost over - balancing on the desk all over the various stacks of papers beginning to consume his work - area. Without even bothering to steady it, he gets to his feet, purple shirt rumpled from hours spent shuffling around in his chair, and promptly wraps himself around Henry, burying his face in the other man's neck. Comfortable. More than the desk, anyway: it helps they're around the same height, though he'd much prefer if Henry was laying down somewhere soft. A bed. Hell, a carpeted floor would do. As long as William didn't have to see that stupid desk and those stupid papers for a while.

" THE BABY IS SO LOUD, " he mutters, finally deciding to complain, " and he doesn't stop crying when I hold him, so Clara has to spend all day and all night with him. And these damn lawyers won't get off our case about safety precautions for the suits - like someone's going to be stupid enough to stick their fucking head in the mouth or something. And it's too warm, because America's always too warm, and the diner is due to open so soon, and - " He punctuates the whole thing with a dramatic groan, arms tightening around Henry: " I hate you for convincing me this was a good idea. Let's just abandon ship and build a non - child - friendly diner instead. One where we can have uninsured animatronics as far as the eye can see. "

[runelocked]

❝ What would you do if there was no tomorrow? ❞ // henry

TIME LOOP SENTENCE STARTERS / ALWAYS ACCEPTING!

WHAT A STRANGE QUESTION. BEMUSED IS THE ONLY WAY TO DESCRIBE THE LOOK WILLIAM SHOOTS HIS FRIEND, brows narrowing in briefly silent puzzlement. Henry has been acting a little strange since he’d met him: hadn’t thought much of it, grief makes people act oddly and after what he’d done to Charlie, he had no right to comment on it but maybe he’s going to get some answers after all.

“ What kind of question is that ? ” He mutters, but sighs. “ The rational answer would be that I’d make the most of today and not worry about what comes next, if that’s anything of a comfort to you. Personally, I think I’d actually do something that I would never have to face consequences for. Rob a bank or something. I don’t know. ” Dark eyes turn to his friend now, mildly alarmed at the question. “ Why do you ask ? What’s going on in that head of yours, Henry ? ”

[runelocked]

'That was the first good sleep I've gotten in a long time.' ( from h. henry. / @ladyseidr )

STILL HALF ASLEEP, WILLIAM HUMS. IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN A DISAGREEMENT OR AN AFFIRMATION, but it’s impossible to tell due to the fact his head is buried in Henry’s shoulder, blocking out the daylight and the looming threat of getting out of bed. Which is a threat, a major one, in his opinion, when everything outside of bed is so cold — Henry’s warm, warmer than William thinks he’s ever been, and he wants to refrain from moving for as long as possible. “ Shut up, ” he mumbles, lifting his face long enough to speak coherently, “ go back to sleep. Keep having a good sleep. If you leave this bed I think I’ll go crazy and murder you or something. ”

Safe to say he’s slept well too. As a result, his face presses back into Henry’s shoulder firmly: a silent, pushy demand to return to sleeping peacefully. The rest of the world can wait. For now, William is content to rest with Henry by his side.

[runelocked]

❝ Maybe I can help. ❞ // henry

HE’S SURE HENRY CAN HELP, ABSOLUTELY. THAT’S WHY HE’S DETERMINED TO DO IT HIMSELF. Thin lips pressed together, shoulders hunched as he’s bent over the Spring - Bonnie suit, he doesn’t reply for a moment, fighting internally with his stubborn irritation. This is supposed to be his suit. The one he’d built, his perfect designs, his first advanced project of this design. He’s proud of it, more than he can explain, it’s his single biggest achievement . . . but Henry’s is better. Breaks less. Needs less work. Stands as the figurehead of the diner. Hollow jealousy eats away at him, as pleased as he is for his friend’s success — and that’s what makes him hesitate now. Does he risk showing his annoyance and childish envy towards the man who has done nothing but help him, even when he hasn’t always needed it ? . . . William sighs, relenting begrudgingly, sitting back and running a hand down his face. He looks ruffled. “I’ve been staring at this stupid springlock for three hours,” he admits, reluctant, his frown still in place, and shifts to let Henry peer over his shoulders, “I don’t even know what’s wrong with it anymore. If you’ve got any advice, be my guest.” And hopefully that won’t hurt his ego too much. William has always been prideful — hopefully Henry has known him long enough to know how temperamental his friend can be.

[runelocked]

“You think this is over? Tell yourself another lie.” // @gunactii henry !

YOU THINK THIS IS OVER ? IF HE DOES, IT’S BECAUSE IT IS OVER — OR AT LEAST, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN. Jaw actually dropping for a moment, heart skipping once, twice, three times in his chest and leaving him lightheaded, William turns. Comes face to face with a spirit he had not expected to see, and can only stammer, caught off - guard utterly mortified. This is not how things were supposed to go: he hadn’t killed Henry next to a specific animatronic for this very reason! Are the people he kills just always cursed to stick around after death, or has he done something wrong?—

Recovers himself as quickly as humanely possible, straightening up from his bored tinkering with a new possible animatronic. William is not a brave man, and he’s sure Henry knows it better than the rest: but he is a performer at heart, and so the smile that stretches over his face is only a little ghastly as he greets his old friend with lies: “Ah, Henry! I was wondering when you’d pop up. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t. Decided to show your face around here, have you? ”

He can’t stop staring. Can’t stop himself from stepping backwards, one step, then two, pausing only when he trips on the toolkit behind him. Dishevelled and dirty and suddenly feeling damned, William’s eyes dart to the ground momentarily, return to Henry like he’s frightened the ghost can harm him. Can he? He’s always viewed Henry as a mix between a god and someone far lower than him; loathing and that wild possessive affection indistinguishable from the other. If anyone could hurt him, it would be Henry; if any ghost could do the impossible, William knows it will be his old friend.

“I almost regret all this, you know. Killing you. I really could have used your thoughts on this new design.” His hand wave might be dismissive, but every word is loaded, spiteful and cruelly mocking just to mask his own uncertain fear. “Don’t suppose you’d care to offer them, would you? […] I’m calling them the Funtimes. I think they’re better than anything we’ve made before.”

[runelocked]

[ also, on a more genuine william - and - music rambling moment: warning for me relating william to fucking burr from hamilton of all people???????? ]

burr’s ‘room where it happened’ moment is also a moment william has with HENRY of all people. william has a pretty warped view of henry in his mind that starts as three-parts admiration one-part envy and develops into something…. way more envious and bitter. in his mind, especially because my william didn’t know how to build the suits at first, henry is the mastermind behind the whole thing: the one people really admire, the one people really want to talk to. it’s exacerbated by their employees or people who fund them/repair suits wanting to hold conversations with henry (which makes sense because like. he WAS the one building the suits. for the first year or so, william was responsible for the characterisation of spring-bonnie and the upkeep of the business alone, not actually suit creation/maintenance). and even though henry is like. the LEAST social and smooth out of the two of them, william can’t shake the feeling that people like henry more, even when that’s not true. to him, henry is (like hamilton in the room where it happens / non-stop) always succeeding, always trying something new, always coming out on top. it doesn’t even matter to him that his perception isn’t accurate… just that it drives him crazy.

it gets to the point where he has this moment (i can’t believe this all came from me listening to the hamilton soundtrack once 💀): a moment of yes, i want to be better than henry, i want to be the one people admire and respect, i want to be the one creating these animatronics. he furiously begins teaching himself and getting help from henry, and while he’s still best friends with henry, his horizons… drift. it’s when plans for circus baby’s pizzeria begin to develop, and william creates chica: his first fully functioning animatronic that HE built without help from henry or anyone else. that’s part of the reason he constantly recreates her in different locations too.

like i said!! his relationship with henry hasn’t outwardly deteriorated by this point. but william has latched on to the idea that henry thinks he’s better than him, that henry IS better than him, and he lets that fester. if his friend is too easygoing and oblivious to pick up a few of william’s more bitter statements, well, that stays between them. this is probably around the very beginning of the 80s too — and william begins to see this one-sided competition with henry in every aspect of his life. first the business & mechanics of the animatronics… then in general intelligence… leading to family life & children…. and this last one leads, of course, to the REAL breakdown of their friendship.

when william’s youngest son dies, it’s not just grief that drives him to murder charlie: it’s rage and jealousy. he won’t let henry, with his perfect job and perfect family and perfect life, have anything over him. even if it means tearing their own franchise name to the ground with a string of murders. originally, THAT’S why he starts killing: a mix of grief and envy induced madness…. which warps the minute he realises that specifically, at first charlie he’s killed aren’t dead: not really, anyway. ]

[runelocked]

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” // @gunactii henry to verse iii will ??

THE WORDS DRAW A BLANK STARE FROM WILLIAM, WHO HAS GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO BLAMING OTHERS FOR HIS MISTAKES. He hadn’t said anything that extraordinary: he’s been careful, since finding himself in the past, not to draw attention to himself. William dotes on his family (and avoids them where he can), treats his friends a little better (and avoids them when he can), and does his best not to fall into the same mistakes as before (while avoiding all memories of the future when he can. There’s a running theme in this new life). Brow furrowing, he stares at Henry nonplussed. “…I need to check the other locations,” he says, slowly, like he’s talking to a child, “we haven’t heard anything from them in days. Aren’t we expecting— those files for the updated Toy Freddy, or—”

…He stops, very abruptly, when he realizes that maybe Toy Freddy doesn’t exist yet. In fact, maybe none of these other locations do, because as he speaks he’s flipping through his file, and none of them appear. Not the names, not the tax information, not the absent scribbled notes reminding him to get maintenance scheduled for them... Ahh. Henry’s blank expression and words make sense now.

So it’s a William - problem, not a Henry - problem like he’d assumed. Still, too late to shut up now: he spins past Henry, brushing next to him while he blusters through the rest of his sentence.

“We should start building another location somewhere!” He ventures. “I think it’s about time, Henry, we’ve— we’ve been discussing it for months.” (Hopefully. They’ve probably spoken about it at least once, haven’t they?) “After all, we’ve got everything under control here. A few minor incidents, but nothing we haven’t dealt with. Don’t you want to expand past the diner? Into something bigger?”

[runelocked]

²²⁾ “if i have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” ( and one more from henry because omg / @ladyseidr )

WRONG THING TO SAY IF YOU WANT TO GET ANYWHERE PRODUCTIVE WITH WILLIAM ! Immediately aroused, the man's dark eyes flicker over to Henry, a little smirk twisting around his lips as the last of his self control fights to maintain any sense of decency. Your best friend is trying to drive you both to work, he scolds himself, get a grip. You can have as much sex as you want when you get to the office.

But, he helpfully reminds himself, the office is twenty minutes away. And Henry is here, now, looking delectable, and his words are so promising, and - and -

Well. William has never even tried to practice restraint before, not really. So his hand mischievously slides back over Henry's lap, presses more insistently into his crotch, stroking through his pants innocently like he has no idea what he's doing to the poor man. He's hard himself, and has a hard time keeping his voice level when he speaks. " I don't believe you, " he says, sweet, sugary, " I think I'll stick to keeping myself entertained like this, thank you. " Go on. Stop the damn car, Emily.

[runelocked]

" I CAN MAKE IT GOOD. " I can make us good. Make it all good. Henry's touch is electrifying, and for a moment William stops, selfishly, lets himself bask in that feeling of calloused hand pressed against his head, the rumble of the man's voice. Just for a moment, just long enough to feel that same unrelenting smugness, now tinged with lust. Because this isn't about him, for once. It's about Henry. And Christ, William is determined to please.

Slow and steady, nips at Henry's neck turn longer, pointed, possessive. Christ, it feels good. William hums against one of them, lingering at his mark proudly, before turning his attention elsewhere. Idly slipping round, getting between Henry and his workbench, that self - same pointed little grin on his face. His cheeks are flushed, breath heavy despite his feigned nonchalance. " You're so patient with me, Hen. So patient, so forgiving. Really, I should be thanking you more. Showing my gratitude. " Smooth, silky words, pouring from his tongue without much thought other than to get Henry agreeable. Hands drifting from the other's skin, moving down to his belt buckle, voice little more than a croon. " Should be on my hands and knees and keeping my mouth busy, hm ? Probably easier to deal with like that. You'd like that, wouldn't you ? "

CONTINUED. / @muutos

[runelocked]

ONE LINE STARTER! ——— @ladyseidr / henry!

“IT’S NOT WRONG,” William murmurs encouragingly against his lips, pressing wickedly close […] skin on skin, his own golden wedding band slyly removed hours ago as he’d planned this little rendezvous, making quick work of Henry’s shirt buttons and almost ripping one in his boyish impatience, “not when it feels like this—” […] another kiss stolen quickly, demanding: “LIVE A LITTLE, gorgeous.”