The Urge To Redraw All My Old Fnaf Art Is Sooooo Strong

The urge to redraw all my old fnaf art is sooooo strong

MICHAEL LIGHTS UP WHEN HE SEES THE GIFT THE UNIVERSE HAS BROUGHT HIM — AND AT THE BREAKFAST. Jeremy’s smile is reward enough for his shitty minimum wage job and even makes the other baggage shrink for a moment: hastening his way towards his friend, Michael greets him with a faint smile of his own, brimming with delight to see him. “ My hero, ” he says, stifling a yawn and tugging off that night security vest, “ what’d I do without you, huh ? ”

He’s always found his uniform constricting. How could he not? Working in a place with more memories than he cares to admit, for a man he knows deep down is a monster. Night shift is kinder to him than day shift, where he cannot shrink away from the bright sunlight and the knowledge that what his father does what he does is hurting innocent people. When he’s the only one there, he can stew in those thoughts in peace . . . If he’s not being attacked by animatronics from all sides, obviously.

But being with Jeremy — well, when he manages to forget about his injury, about the brimming fears that his own and his father’s tampering had been the cause of the Mangle malfunction — gives him a chance to breathe. To feel a modicum of normalcy again. “You’re literally my favourite person of all time, I hope you know that,” he says, dismissing his thoughts and nodding towards the bag, “ it hit 4am and I got hungry as hell. ” Gone is the heavy weight on his shoulders, the stoop of his posture: around his friend Michael stands a little taller, regains a light in his tired eyes. “ But hey, I survived. How was your night? ”

❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜ / tossing michael (@bitterborne) at you first ! !!

❝ I know who I am when I'm alone / I'm something else when I see you ❞ | prompt by @bitterborne !

the uniforms changed when the toy animatronics were stashed ... what's what Jeremy was told at least . yet he still held onto his uniform . one set stained crimson - the other in perfect condition ...

those pastels stood out to him every morning . sitting on the edge of his dresser . colours he wouldn't forget .

Michael's uniform held a darker scheme . deep midnight colours and black . blending in with the nights he patrolled .

Jeremy didn't like that uniform . but it seemed to suit Mike . whom ; after his shift , Jeremy had met up with . providing food and company .

he didn't fit in with the sun . Jeremy knew that . where he basked in the sunlight and beamed even after his injury . Mike held the night with him . his friend was a solemn creature .

yet . observant as he was , he took notice of that bit of sunlight .

much like this morning when he greeted him . a bag of breakfast burritos in hand and a beaming smile . he saw the change in body language in his presence .

" another night come and gone ~ I got you an extra hashbrown . "

Trick or treat!!

Trick :]]]

Happy Halloween try not to lose your head

"Oh, spawn of the creator~" Glitchtrap muses as it kicks its legs while sitting upon the countertop, "Do you really think you'll be something more than just a shadow of him?"

IT  KIND  OF  FEELS  LIKE  BEING  SCOOPED.  AGAIN.  Michael’s  breath  ( unneeded )  catches  in  his  ( torn )  throat,  and  something  ugly  ( childish )  holds  his  tongue  for  a  moment  too  long.  The  rabbit  sure  knows  where  to  kick  a  dog  when  it’s  already  down,  and  Michael  has  barely  recovered  from  the  nasty  surprise  of  seeing  it  in  the  first  place.  For  a  moment,  he’s  sixteen  again  –  tall,  but  never  as  tall  as  his  father  –  strong,  but  never  as  strong  as  his  father  –  trying  so  hard  to  be  good,  but  never  good  enough  –  and  lost  for  words.  All  he  can  do  is  stare  at  the  glitch  for  a  torturous  second,  before  laughing.  Harsh,  rough.  Resigned.  

They’re  the  same,  aren’t  they ?  Both  created  by  him.  The  thought  is  laden  and  sour  in  his  throat  when  he  speaks:

“ I  guess  he  didn’t  have  time  to  code  you  with  some  kind  of  command  to  shut  the  fuck  up. ”  Not  that  Michael  really  thinks  his  father  would  have  done  that  anyway.  He  always  seemed  to  like  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  too  much.  But  he’s  bitter,  brash  with  his  next  words.  “ I’m  literally nothing  like  him  – ”   ANYMORE.  “ – and  hey,  look  who’s  still  standing.  It’s  sure  not  him. ”

That,  at  least,  makes  him  smile,  even  if  it  is  a  hollow  victory.  Steps  forward,  despite  all instinct,  towards  the  rabbit,  his  upturned  lips  mocking  and  hard, and adjusts the mask so it can see his scarred grin.

“ At  the  end  of  the  day,  I’m  the  one  that  survived.  Guess  the  world  really  wants  me  to  eradicate  every  last  memory,  every  shadow,  of  him,  huh ? ”   And  Glitchtrap  is  next,  if  he  doesn’t  shut  up.  Deep  down,  a  part  of  him  still  itches  for  a  bit  of  destructive  violence, and even if smashing up a computer monitor won't hurt it, it sure as hell would feel good. 

part two of my au! enter vanessa 👀

check out the prev part here!

he has bad posture