#auntie-browning

[soulstagger]

auntie-browning ||: To be quite fair, electronic warfare was never Browning's speciality. UmU

You're right.

"PICK UP OLD WOMAN!" The most direct electronic warfare, screaming at them directly in their head.

[ordinaryxxgirl]

Starter for @auntie-browning!

It wasn't every day that somebody new joined the company that Daciana called her place of employment. And yet, the higher ups had announced a while back that they would actually be welcoming a new employee into their midst, and that there would be a party to help integrate them into the corporate family. And...Frankly, the blonde was tired of going to mixers for the time being, so a work gathering was perfect.

And so, Daciana had picked out her finest dress for the evening, if only to try and look good in front of the new hire, and made sure to bring her best behavior as she walked in. Unsurprisingly, people from all shifts were in attendance, and quite a few of her coworkers had commented on the white sundress she had picked out. And, while she was cordial and spoke with them...Her ochre gaze had soon fallen upon an unfamiliar face, who seemed to be the focus of quite a few people.

That...Had to be the new hire, right? She seemed to be nice enough, if not a bit distant...The blonde couldn't really get a read on her from afar, truth be told, not that she was much at figuring people out from a distance anyway.

Soon enough, though, the blonde would shake her head to dispel her thoughts and approach, giving a genuinely welcoming smile as she looked the other up and down. She definitely seemed nice, but...Daciana couldn't help but be curious. Would she be welcoming of befriending someone like her? Even if she never found out the blonde's secret, she did still tend to keep co-workers at arm's length, after all...

...But, deep down, a part of her hoped she could open up to someone at last. Even if they were a newbie. Even she got tired of keeping secrets sometimes, after all.

"You must be the new blood, right? My name's Daciana Alecsandri, with Human Resources. I'm one of those night owls on the graveyard shift, haha...I hope we'll be seeing more of you from now on."

[ancientforgcd]

@auntie-browning replied to your post “"Halloween doesn't even feel like Halloween...”:

"Same here. Didn't even make a dent on my dragon horde collection of miscellaneous to give away. What has this world come to?"

"Seriously, it feels more horny than ever."

[dracomultiverse]

"Hello Zaire, I got you something else nice for today~"

The doll then presents him with a bowl full of some kind of orange-ish brown gum resin. It had a particularly strong smell but nothing too unpleasent.

"Tada~ It's Myrrh~ Very useful as a medicine or perfume~ I hope you enjoy it hon~"

Zaire looks in the box Browning gave him then back at her, then back at the box and nods his head. "I see..." He wondered if Myrrh would be useful nowadays but he didn't say anything out loud. He was just thankful that she gave him a gift.

His heart raced a little bit before he put the box on a table next to him and hugged her tightly.

"...Thank you."

[shxxtteredfantasy]

@auntie-browning liked for a starter!

Just a day at Garreg Mach. Fishing. Byleth was content for now. It was quiet. She had no classes to teach today. She'd notice a presence nearby. Without looking she'd ask.

"Who's there?" She'd gotten used to enemies sneaking up on her, so this wasn't new. Nothing slipped by her.

[soulstagger]

Just as the situation was about to cascade, Ziatrix slipped away from the scene. Just as quietly as she moved, as inhumanely as she could be, one moment Browning saw her. The next when she moved to confront the men, the strange woman vanished.

If anything it was a last attempt to abide by Browning's wishes. No death, no fighting, avoid the conflict, be unseen and leave once the task was done. As they walked Browning away, Ziatrix slipped back to the vehicle unnaturally, setting the process up and letting fuel flow by itself into their container.

She filled what she could from watching Browning do the same, unseen in the dark by the vehicle, as if light itself wished not to interact with her.

Even if one looked back, they'd see nothing. They wouldn't notice Ziatrix finishing what she could and moving on, hiding their stuff before following them silently into the alley.

Purple eyes watched as diplomacy was eroded away, they men were angry and they were about to take it out on Browning. Could she handle them? Perhaps... Browning was not just a human, but a stab being inflicted already, with possibly more on the way.

She fell, pain causing her to seize up. The men standing over her, kicking the body to see how much it hurt, gawking and reveling in their petty revenge.

They wouldn't even notice Ziatrix dropping down behind them, only Browning out. Her eyes catching the purple eyed woman landing behind them, shadows from the streetlights behind her hiding the intent that only Browning could feel.

Hunger. Malice. The feeling of helplessness towards a peaceful solution, and the decision made hastily.

I eat.

"Men of the alley, refined guests of our banquet." Her voice startled the two, both of them looking at the stranger before them.

"Get lost bitch, this isn't any of your business." One shouts.

The other pulls from his jacket a firearm, and points it. "Did you not hear us?"

Ziatrix does not flinch, she continues her approach. Her tongue licks her lips, Browning can feel it. Utter desire to eat.

"I did not... nor do I care." A gunshot rings out, the sound of a knife hitting the cement clatters beside Browning. The two men are stuck, their eyes wife, red drips down their bodies to the floor.

From puddles all over, thin needles of water are stretching, piercing both men in several very non-lethal points. Enough however to lock them in place, their wrists and hands are pierced and the gun and knife drop.

Like being caught in a max of spikes, each running through their body avoiding delicious precious insides.

"If action is taken...near not a shred of their behind." She walks to the first man, the one who stabbed Browning. Her hand swipes through them, splashing water, ripping flesh with claw like fingers. She takes a literal chunk from them, just enough to fit in her hand.

As the flesh leaves his body, a spectral looking thing follows. It looks like a translucent copy of him being stretched from the body. Brought with that flesh as Ziatrix savors it, eating the meat and the soul of the man. It screams, his body screams like it should in pain, but the soul, the translucent one of him screams too. It shreds apart, some of it returning to the body.

The man's yells subsided as his mind recoils, panic set sin. She's eaten a part of him, and a part of his essence, of his soul and personality.

The man is jumbled, he can't make words, he can't form thought. And Ziatrix only gets more excited, she turns to the other, and the same thing.

A leg severed, the soul stretched out, she rends into it, like the flesh is vanishing as it enters her mouth. She eats it all down and some of his soul and personality.

The water spikes turn from needles to blades almost, water pressure cutting the men up as she eats them piece by piece, the screams of their physical bodies subside to their screaming souls being sucked up and eaten too.

As if when she bites, it's merely torn to become part of her. Stored in an infinite nothing, and the translucent visible souls even to Browning, are torn apart, muffled as they're slurped up like pasta.

Until nothing is left and the water washes away the blood, a horrid vision to take in.

Ziatrix' eyes turning to Browning. The poor girl left with one feeling inside.

Full and Satisfied. Crouching down she places her hand to Browning's gut, a cool running water feeling seals her would and fixes her.

"Don't move...I will use their mass to mimic your body and fix what is broken."

Probably not.. the words one might wish to hear from the blood lips of a creature that horrendously just ate two men in both physical and soul ways.

Blast! They couldn’t go just yet!

The doll’s neural cloud raced, continuing to drain the vehicle of its fuel while the pair encroached upon their position. For the entirety of that night, they did well to collect fuel without arousing even the slightest suspicion. This was their second to last vehicle before they could call it for the night and retreat to the wilds outside the city limits. Hell, she would forget the last bit of fuel if she could at least drain what she could from this one.

That desperation would ultimately lead to what would happen next.

Browning, continuing to hold out as much as they could, banked on her ability to keep a low enough profile to avoid detection. And at first, it seemed to work. The strangers were more pre-occupied grabbing the bags out of the car to really look around. If they held long enough, maybe they’d-

Slump…thud!

Down came the doll, gracelessly fumbling as her hand slipped on spilled gas. She tumbled forward, knocking that can over as well…spewing the petrol she waited for all over that asphalt floor and upon herself. None of that went unnoticed, as well. The two men peered over to the doll laid upon the ground, fuel canister besides her, and put two in two together. The jig was up and there was gonna be hell to pay.

Browning quickly picked herself off the road, trying to get some footing once again. She didn’t want to include her partner-in-crime to this little exchange if she could help it. Be it for her sake or theirs, the doll wanted to at least try to resolve the situation diplomatically first. That was better said than done, however. Emotions flared, bickering occurred, commotion raised.

“I-I’m sorry! P-Please, I just needed the fuel for money…I-I don’t have any other place to go to and I need to make ends meet!”

She reflexively lied to obfuscate what her true intentions really were. Needless to say, the pair weren’t buying it. Not the reasons, anyone can make convincing reasons. No, they didn’t think that sob story was good enough excuse to absolve her of her sins.

“And what!? You think we��re swimming in cash, bitch!? Your thieving cunt-ass lost me a whole month of fuel!”

The conversation continued like that. Browning trying her best to defuse the situation by pleading for some kind of forgiveness while the pair only grew further agitated. They started to corral the doll into one of the many alleyways that peppered this part of town. It seemed like nothing was working on the doll’s front. Tensions flared until eventually, the situation escalated with a single stab right into the gut.

Browning eyes shot wide while her receptors shot signals into her neural cloud telling her exactly what had happened. Injured, nearly fatal to a human. Soon, pain simulations played out in her neural matrix, simulating just how painful it should feel to sell her human reaction. Something Zaitrix would so easily pick up on with their connection. All before the faintest gasp for air as the doll tumbled down once again.

[fullcravings]

Copycat Auntie Anne's Cinnamon Sugar Pretzel Nuggets

[aziirmon]

Over the Garden Wall

[soulstagger]

@auntie-browning Browning: Oblivious "…Wonder why I'm acessing so many memory archives all of a sudden…Probably the wind."

"Wao~ This poor doll has been on quite the journey..." Accessing, running all over your layer II and III.

Not being subtle about it at all. Intrusive, having a good time, always good to find dolls.

[0luna123]

Random thoughts strike again:

Gwen's hands often being cold to the touch (like a ghost ya know?)

Hobie, while experimenting on a trans-dimensional watch, he ends up in a world of Dungeon Meshi, and promptly gets adopted by Laios' party. He fixes it soon enough, but chooses to stay for a while

Miles 42 stealing a watch from a random spiderman and reverse-engineering it (either for his own purpose or a way to send Miles 1610 home)

Speaking of Morales twins, them roughhousing

Engineers and coders of the band (Peni, MilesG, Hobie and perhaps Margo) pulling all-nighters to make robots just to pit them against eachother

Considering the black hole in Mumbattan, people are probably going missing, lost in the chaos. And somewhere there's Maya Auntie, looking for her nephew

[ancientforgcd]

"Kiana, prefered name for a Submarine sandwich? Personally on the field of Torpedo but I wanna know what you call it. This will color my impression of you~"

"I prefer calling it Hero. At least that's what I got used to callin' it when I stayed over in New York for a bit, Auntie."

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[1998da]

✨🔥🧡

[soulstagger]

"That's good.." Ziatrix rolled off of Browning, their angry swings amusing to say the least. It reminded her of others who have succumbed, who have become part of what is Ziatrix, what was Ziatrix, and what will be Ziatrix.

Browning's grip and anger have disheveled her guest, if she wasn't such a monster, this could of been a man or woman's dream. But instead of sharing a bed with a beauty, Browning's side by side with fangs that could sink into her doll body at any time.

"There's nothing fun...if the one we picked, isn't willing to claw until the end. If you were but a meek compliant human. The tent would be red, but you're not..."

Ziatrix lays flat down again, but she doesn't do so without further annoyance. Browning's pulled with that same strength right into Ziatrix' arms. Facing her now, the monster isn't letting her move away for a moment.

Ziatrix' hands caress Browning's spin, where she jammed her fingers into to stop that jumping away. "Sleep."

"The morning awaits a restful sleep, what you desired for the most part. I do not need but I will remain and ensure you do not blip away." She hugs Browning, no doubt the most unwelcome hug in the world.

How cruel it is, this warmth from someone else like her, inhuman and strange... isn't coming from genuine feelings or someone pleasant. But instead from a beast, a beast with eyes that have no need to close.

Despair flared hand in hand with the torrent of emotions just beneath the surface as Browning heard her proposition. An unholy matrimony between the face of absolute evil…and herself. The mere thought made her grit her teeth in pure frustration, clenching to show her just how she really felt about an idea. But as the fist arose to strike the face of evil, the sheer futility of the situation finally began to erode the will of the doll.

How could she to quell this ancient evil? Could she even hope to even bring about great change to this indomitable being of great malevolence? Is she even qualified to? What right does she have to tell her how she should operate? She can’t even control her own method of dimensional travel. What makes her think she could hope to even control a monster that devours the mere being of a person? So many more questions flash past her mind, buzzing in her neural cloud as that damned hunger grows stronger in her mind. Like a mental cancer that threatens to erode the very structures of reason within.

It was only a matter of time till the end would finally catch up with her. She still couldn’t comprehend how close it would be…and by what means it would be delivered by.

Browning’s right hook swung fast enough to lightly crack the air around it but stopped just short of connecting. A wave of air blew past the white-haired maiden’s face as the fist stood there, shaking in a white knuckled fury. Agitated breaths gave way to the eventual emotional erosion that was bubbling beneath the surface. Before it completely broke free, she swung her hand against the ground, leaving an impression on the hard surface they found themselves on. Her olive hues met back with those lifeless velvet spheres that held nothing behind them and spoke once again:

“We’ll cross that bridge once we get there… But get one thing through that amalgamation of identities behind this fake mask…I won’t back down! Not now, not ever! Even if I’m damned to whatever level of hell you’re in. I. Won’t. Faulter! Till whatever death does us part, I’ll endure this burden like I’ve done so many more before. Now, get off me!”

With her last words hopefully stuck deep within her mind, Browning flung off Ziatrix for the time being. She used that time to finally let whatever bottled up feeling she had run free. The fear, the anger, the hate…all of it washing over her face in a relatively pathetic display of the curse of humanity. Just as fragile as the being that made her...

[chai-en-kaadhale]

tiny shitpost free my melanated king

((mild audio warning))

[lady-phasma]

If I ever write for Mayfair Witches or crossover Lasher into my TVC fics, just know he will probably always be my fancast version of Alexander Skarksgård.