#drug imagery

[petday]

[matutito]

fumar hace mal

(sketch under the cut ^_^)

hey did anyone else not know that firealpaca has gradient maps???? lifechanger

[grendel-menz]

drawing at work

[an-albino-pinetree]

Warnings: Carnival!jax, blood/gore, implied use of painkillers, ‘squeamish’ content: (poking around inside an arm wound)

-

He’s very proud of his experimental drug cocktail, be nice /j

[theoldkyokodied]

Also finally sharing the link to my bloodweave playlist, for everyone who was interested <33 lovingly putting my brainworms under the microscope for you, so you can see all their layers

[strawbebbiesart]

201km 🏘️💕🚌

[clegfly]

“Of course you have an Other Brother,” he says, waving off her denial as he opens some nearby cabinets. “Who else would I be if I wasn’t?”

Small WIP sketch of the Other Brother from IDKSomethingClever99’s fic “Mari in the Pink Palace”!!! OMORI and Coraline are my two biggest interests ever so this fic was like winning the lottery for me. Not to mention how good it is… please go read it ragh

[spintrick]

Commission for @loxers!

[vamphorica]

kinktober day xxiii: worship

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga)

Relationship: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl

Characters: Matt | Mail Jeevas, Mello | Mihael Keehl

Additional Tags: Worship, Church Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Religion Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Catholic Prayers, Kissing, Altar Sex, Top Mello | Mihael Keehl, Bottom Matt | Mail Jeevas, Canon Compliant

Series: Part 23 of Death Note Kinktober 2024 | @dnkinktober

Summary: When Mello goes missing again, Matt goes to church.

────────────────────────────

When Mello doesn’t return to the flat for several days, Matt drives down to the Catholic church about an hour away. It is said to be favoured by the Mafia, with the security it provides ensuring that it can remain open for twenty four hours every day. Matt is reassured at the very least that regardless of Mello’s proclivity to mania, his tendency to drink a little too fast and sometimes snort one too many lines of coke, that shit doesn’t fly in the house of God. By the time Matt collects him, Mello is usually cold hard sober.

He pulls up outside of the building, grinding his cigarette butt into the ashtray on his dash as he acknowledges the bright red neon cross glowing above the doorway. At three in the morning, it haloes in the dark, a stark reminder of God. Matt has inherited the Wammy’s atheistic outlook of the world, all that is unexplainable now presumed to be understandable at a later date. He envies Mello’s ability to remain in close proximity with the discomfort of ignorance. To believe that everything happens for a reason greater than himself. It is pleasantly naive. Matt gets out of the car and slams the door behind him.

“Mello here?” Matt asks the two mafiosos who guard the doors.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Friend of his.” Matt digs deep into his jean pockets and pulls out a purple chocolate wrapper. British imported chocolate was hardly uncommon if you knew where to find it, but no one was as picky about brand consistency as Mello and as the two men look at one another momentarily, Matt knows they have little to challenge him on.

“He arrived yesterday. He’s the only one in there right now.”

Matt gives a brief nod and walks into the foyer. Leaflets and posters neatly line the walls, declaring solutions to societal woes through God’s omnibenevolence. Matt considers whether Mello looks at this selection of material, decrying homosexuality as a sin and drug use as an abominable act, and feels himself to be lesser. Perhaps he seeks refuge in the exclusionary nature that organised religion encourages; a reminder of the House in its intolerance of anything deemed inadequate.

The church is rather underwhelming for one that is so obviously revered by the local crime syndicate. Large, stained glass windows dominate the walls, the darkness of the early morning muting their colours, the saints condemned to a fate of mundanity until the sun rises. The pews hide in the shadows cast towards the back of the chapel, dusty hymn books and bibles remain neglected. It is the altar which is afforded the blessing of light, a variety of candles carefully positioned to carve out an invitation to prayer at the foot of the platform, before a model crucifixion.

This is where Matt always finds Mello kneeling, with his head bowed in such a manner as to let his hair veil his face. His ungloved hands are clasped together before his chest, almost earnest. Slowly, Matt approaches him from behind listening for his hushed voice in the silence. He had interrupted Mello during prayer one too many times to know such a risk was never worth the blonde’s subsequent irritation. As Matt arrives close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder, Mello’s silence is unmistakable.

“Hey, time to go.”

Mello looks up at Matt, his eyes red as if he has been crying, or as if he’s high. There is still something hauntingly beautiful about him, even in this erratic state, and Matt feels an urge to run his fingers through his soft golden hair, before guiding him out of the church and back into the car. To make him promise that they’ll leave this city and forget about the Kira case to find another purpose in life. An ambition that doesn't rip him to shreds like this.

“Matt… My guardian angel.” Mello whispers, nearly too quiet for Matt to hear.

“You alright?” Matt asks in response – Mello was typically vexed by Matt by the time he would come to fetch him, as if his arrival broke some kind of fantasy of divine salvation he had erected in his head. Matt never expects the softer language or the affection to return for a few days as Mello confronts lingering hangovers and whatever religious revelations he endured during his periodic hysteria. Even then, such affections are small, quiet things whispered in the bedroom. Matt has never known Mello to speak to him in such a way in public.

Mello takes Matt’s hand as a means to pull himself up onto his feet, “I am now that you are here.” His breath smells like booze, and Matt wonders if the men on the door had been covering for him.

“Come on, man, we need to get you cleaned up.” Matt sighs. He never judges Mello, as often as Mello would take the opportunity to act morally offended by the redhead’s crack pipes and needles. However, there is something increasingly exasperating about how Matt so often chases Mello, as if it is a given that he will be there to take him home. Matt swallows his fear to enter those dark spaces Mello frequents to pull him out every time. Matt can never say Mello returns the favour.

Damn right, I am your guardian angel.

“No… Let’s stay.” Mello pulls Matt’s sleeve. It is a small gesture, but one that was reminiscent of something more. That silent pull of a sleeve in the dark. Two boys in a dormitory.

A kiss.

Matt feels Mello’s lips on his, soft and full. An apology, or at least an appeal to their relationship. A declaration of love in a sacred space. Matt takes Mello’s face in his hands and gently eases him away from his own.

“Here, Mels?”

“Where else can I worship you?” God, he really is fucked. Matt shook his head. Mello is bound to regret this. Matt opens his mouth to object but Mello cuts him off, “I thank God for you everyday, Matt.”

Matt blushes, despite himself. His frustration at this stupid bastard for scaring him so often aside, he cannot deny how his heart aches when hearing such a sentiment from Mello. Matt is not well acquainted with God, but there is something about the manner in which Mello’s devotion flows out of him, Matt can taste something close to a miracle on his lips.

Matt’s eyes dart to the entrance, to which Mello smirks, “They know not to come inside.”

Fuck it. Matt leans back in and the two press their bodies close as they fall into the deepness of the kiss. They stumble up onto the platform until Matt feels himself being pressed up against the altar table. He plants a hand behind him, in an attempt not to fall upon it.

Mello has other ideas. He disengages before shoving Matt onto the table so that he lies flat along the surface, his face contorting slightly on impact. Even Matt feels they are engaging in a rather overt expression of blasphemy here, but as Mello crawls on top of him, his hair hanging down and framing his face, Matt understands what is meant by omnibenevolence. Unconditional love is the best way Matt can describe how he feels about Mello.

“Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you have bestowed onto me.” Mello begins unbuckling his belt, and Matt swallows, his dick tight against his underwear in anticipation of what the blonde intends to do to him here. He finds his own hands peeling his jeans down beneath Mello as they both expose themselves hurriedly. Spiritual consequences be damned.

“You have provided me with more than I could imagine, more than I ever deserve, in Mail Jeevas.” Matt doesn’t know whether it is Mello pressing his erection against his own or the way in which he says his real name that sends a shockwave of sensitivity up his spine, causing him to moan quietly. His hands grab Mello’s hips as he spreads his legs, arching his back as a means to push himself closer to Mello’s body.

Mello spits on his palm and begins to rub his own cock, his other hand gently caressing Matt’s face, “Lord, I am a sinner, and yet you have extended your mercy and grace by bringing an angel into my life.” Matt closes his eyes and hums gently against Mello’s thumb stroking his cheek, smiling when the blonde plants a kiss there.

“We praise you and give you glory.” Mello moves his hand down to grab Matt’s thigh, and with his other hand, directs his dick against the rim of Matt’s ass, thrusting his hips so it goes in all at once. Matt gasps, his nails digging into Mello’s hips as he processes the sharp sting of being entered.

“Amen.”

[jazzy-art-time]

GOD OF MARIE "YEAH AMEN!"

It's that one day of the year in April. Surely nothing of notable nature is said to happen today not at all! Also shout out to this being the first appearance of Jody's Nun Attire

[svejarph]

hari nef gif pack

CLICK THE SOURCE LINK BELOW and you will find #165 245x150px gifs of Hari Nef as herself, Sloane, Chai, Rabbi Jane Cohen, Rabbi Jen, and L. Roy Dunham in a JW Anderson commercial, 1UP, Meet Cute, Simchas and Sorrows, Both, And Just Like That 1x10, and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (all 2022)! These were created from scratch by Sveja. Do what you want with these, just don't repost/claim as your own, don't use them to play Hari, don't use them to use in smut/smut-based blogs, and like/reblog if using. If you like what I'm doing, feel free to commission me or donate to my ko-fi! Hari was 28-30 during filming and is Ashkenazi Jewish. She is also a trans woman. Cast her accordingly. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel takes place in 1950s New York.

tw: drinking, drugs, eating, flashing lights, flickering lights, food, hallucinations, religious imagery, shaky camera, smoking

[dreaming-hibi]

How unhinged am I? Let's just say that I take songs and make them into openings/endings/theme songs for fanfictions I write

[peanut-tyrug]

Pink City AU: Hunt for the Boxman

Prologue: Part 2 - Stay Optimistic

Elain is a woman full of eagerness and optimism. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s difficult to stay optimistic when your mind is plagued by the confusing and unknown.

—

NOTICE: This AU is partially based on my ideas/interpretation. If anything appears to be inaccurate, I apologize. I tried to work with what little I had to make smth. I also took a few artistic liberties.

Another thing: THE PINK CITY AND IT’S CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME!! IT BELONGS TO GOOSEWORX!! Some canon lore for The Pink City has also been implemented in this story. This is just an AU/story I made based on it. If you’d like to check out The Pink City series itself, check it out here!

—

TRIGGER WARNING: This fic contains death, disturbing imagery, mentions of drugs/tripping, visions/hallucinations, the poking of eyes, existential crises, and trauma. If you aren’t comfortable with these things, please don’t read this.

The Bounty Hunting business is simple, really. There isn’t much to it. Get assigned a target, catch said target, profit.

But when you’re working with someone as young and optimistic as Elain the Bounty Hunter, it doesn’t seem to go as smoothly.

“Your target today is an infamous crook that goes by Gp Donsterly.” Says the CEO of Pointiness, head honcho of the lead Bounty Hunting business in the Pink City, 'To The Point Bounty Hunting'. “He’s wanted for 12 cases of snipping and 57 cases of snapping. I trust one of you two to bring him in alive…”

The Bounty Hunter duo Elain and Dento listen intently to the info given.

“Now, good luck, and have fun!” Says the CEO.

Once the CEO has finished giving his orders, Elain swings into action and jogs over to a nearby window. Dento turns to her as he watches her jump through the window, beginning her plummet to the ground.

“…Oh, dear.” Says the CEO. “You’d best be after her.”

Dento nods and heads out through the exit the CEO’s office. He heads toward the elevator at the end of the hall, beginning his slow decent to the floor.

However, after awhile of standing in the quiet elevator, the power suddenly goes out. The elevator powers down, leaving Dento in darkness. Dento glares around a bit in confusion.

…Did Elain have something to do with this?

If she did, he wouldn’t be surprised.

…What the hell is he going to do now?

—

It’s been a few hours. Maybe even longer. Dento’s been passing time fairly well. How? Daydreaming about how else he could’ve left the building. One particular scenario: Taking the stairs. Although, it appears that he slips and falls down the entire flight.

Shortly after Dento’s daydreaming stops, sounds can be heard from outside the elevator. The sound of approaching footsteps.

“You still in there?” Asks a gruff voice from outside. A repairman.

Dento knocks on the door, indicating that he’s there.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Says the repairman. “Hang tight. I’ll get ya out.”

As the repairman works outside, Dento begins to reflect on his companion.

Was Elain a pain to work with? Occasionally. She’s very quick to react and always excited to set off with her partner. Her eagerness to get on with hunts is what always contradicts Dento’s more organized way of hunting. That doesn’t mean Elain isn’t a good Bounty Hunter however. She’s good at her job, so is Dento.

The thing is though, Elain is spontaneous. Dento is more put together.

That doesn’t mean Dento doesn’t appreciate Elain. He does. He thinks of her as not just a great partner, but also a great friend. He couldn’t ask for anyone else.

They make a great team.

He’d imagine Elain thought that same.

Eventually, the door to the elevator opens. Dento slowly exits the elevator. As he exits, the repairman nods at him. Dento nods back.

As Dento reenters the hall, something catches his eye. A sticky note plastered to the wall.

It reads: 'What’s-Her-Name no longer works here :) -CEO'

Dento’s face remains as blank as it’s always been. However, internally, he can’t help but be in utter disbelief.

…What in God’s name did she do?

—

It’s later in the day. The afternoon. Dento sits alone in front of a small boba tea shop.

One that he and Elain would visit.

He didn’t take Elain’s departure very well.

Dento left his work place bubbling with hatred for the CEO. Elain was likely sitting in the Hunter Pound by now. Completely alone. And he didn’t do anything to help her? Not get her out of that cramped cage?

Dento didn’t threaten to quit though. He needs the money. So does Elain.

Dento only knows what it’s like in the Hunter Pound because his own father works there. Bounty Hunters are left in small cages. A punishment for Hunters that fail to catch a bounty. He can’t help that that’s just basic protocol for the Bounty Hunting industry.

Regardless of protocol, or how Elain normally did things, Dento couldn’t help but feel bad for his friend.

As Dento reminisces his friend, he begins going through photos on his phone. Memories that capture the time he and Elain had spent together.

The pair together at a beach. Getting chased by a ghost during a late night hunt. Trying boba together. Absolutely kicking the ass of a bounty they caught together. The pair holding each other by the shoulders.

The longer Dento stares at the picture, the more he begins to miss his dear partner.

So much so, it brings a tear to his eye.

Dento swipes his screen up, showing his contact list. He taps on Elain’s contact, hoping to just be able to speak with her.

Also to see if she would agree to being let back in the Bounty Hunting business.

He’d only return to avidly working for the CEO if he could let Elain back in.

The phone rings.

And rings.

…And rings…

And yet, no answer.

The line then goes to voicemail.

…Odd.

She normally picks up the phone by the last ring…

Once the phone stops ringing, the sky begins to darken. Rain then begins to slowly fall to the ground.

Dento can only hope Elain is okay. Hope that she’s safe.

…Wherever the hell she may be…

—

Elain was always the optimist. The one always eager to go out and have fun.

Although, her mood has changed a bit.

She doesn’t exactly feel the same anymore.

Elain had gotten adopted from the Hunter Pound. Sounds fine, right?

It’s not.

Elain had been adopted by a strange bulky old man. Someone with a face that you could never forget. A face with only a large mouth and pair of pearly white teeth.

A man that you could never trust.

A man with an odd hobby.

A man who was a bounty.

The man had been accused of 'injecting people with unknown substances'. Said unknown substances would cause one to be drugged, see things. Colorful, vibrant, confusing things.

Elain would know.

She got to experience the sensation first hand.

It hurt her mind. Her soul. Damaged her. Damaged how she functions.

Did she ever kill the man? Yes, but not without having to see her own internal organs and her heart get taken from her.

Along with the privilege of seeing what may have been the God of her world itself.

Shadowy pillars of colorful eyes stand tall before Elain and the now dead bounty Nuzzner Fubs. Looking down upon them from their terrifying height.

“NUZZNER FUBS IS DEAD.” The pillars repeat.

“DOWNLOAD HIS DATA.”

“MAKE USE OF IT.”

“MAKE USE OF IT.”

“MAKE USE OF IT.”

The pillars then begin to suck the 'data' out of the man. As Elain squirms in confusion nearby, she gets pulled into the stream as well.

It’s agonizing.

It’s like being electrocuted.

Normally, Pink City citizens are very durable. Able to face and live after any injury as long as it’s not severe enough.

But this…

It’s entirely different.

The pain of it all travels through Elain’s body at tremendous speeds.

Until it eventually stops.

The dead man and former Bounty Hunter are sent away from the Gods. They become further and further distant.

The two eventually make it back to the real world. Nuzzner lands to the ground while Elain shoots back into the man’s trash can.

Elain remains in the trash can for a bit, taking a breather. Trying to comprehend what had happened. She soon begins to rise from the can, and gazes upon a nearby tree.

…Something is off about the leaves…

She looks closer.

…The leaves have taken the shape of Elain’s head.

She looks up.

A large, puffy cloud looms over her.

Although, it appears to have taken the same shape of the leaves.

…Elain’s face.

Elain can’t help but begin to question the reality she lives in. Is anything even real? Is she real? Are they all just code? Data?

…Is this reality just a simulation…?

Elain is snapped out of her existential crisis when she hears a buzzing inside the trash can. She digs through it and finds her phone.

She sees a text from Dento. It reads: 'U ok?'

Elain recalls what had transpired.

She was adopted by a strange man. Got drugged and tripped out. Got to see her internal organs and got her heart removed. Saw God. Got her 'data' sucked out of her, basically electrocuted. Had an existential crisis…

Elain eventually responds with a single word.

'No'

—

Dento gave Elain the address so she can find him. Talk about what may have shaken Elain up. He looks through his phone while he waits. His mind also begins to wander.

He’s starting to think that maybe he should’ve jumped out that window with her… if both have them got caught, he could’ve suffered with her. She wouldn’t be alone. Or, they’d be triumphant in catching that dastardly Gop Donsterly.

He looks up from his phone and waits to see his friend cross his vision. As he looks, he sees a familiar figure pop up on the sidewalk.

That same fedora and Bounty Hunting gear, although, she’s no longer wearing her red scarf, instead, she’s wearing a spiked collar. Elain appears to be fidgeting with her hands as well. She glances around worriedly as she walks.

Dento wonders what could’ve happened to her…

As she approaches the small boba shop, Elain spots Dento, sitting at one of the tables. No one else is around. She quickly rushes over to her friend, almost tripping trying to get to him. She tightly wraps her arms around Dento, hugging him. And almost practically squeezing him. Dento tightly hugs Elain back. He missed her. And she missed him.

Elain eventually separates from Dento and takes the seat in front of him. She sets her hands on the table and fidgets with them. Dento closely looks at her. She appears to be trembling a bit.

After a bit of silence, Dento faces his phone. He taps on the keyboard.

Elain’s phone then dings. She looks at her messages to see Dento has texted her again. They prefer to discuss things through text.

'Do you want to talk about it?' Reads the text.

Elain types back.

'Idk how' It says.

'Why?' Dento asks.

'It’s confusing, sry' Elain responds.

‘Don’t say you’re sry' Dento texts. 'You’re okay. Whatever it is, I’ll get it'

'Are you sure?' Elain asks. 'There’s a lot'

'Yea' Dento responds.

Elain hesitates before texting again, trying to figure out how to explain everything to her friend.

“Excuse me,” says a waiter. “Are you going to order something or just sit there?”

Elain snaps out of her thinking and looks to the waiter. She isn’t sure what to order. She doesn’t even have a menu.

“Take a look.” Says the waiter, pulling out a small menu. Elain points at what she wants.

“Alright.” Says the waiter. “You want another drink, sir?” He asks, now looking to Dento.

Dento shakes his head, a no.

“'Kay.” Says the waiter. He takes his leave.

Elain looks back to her phone and picks it up. She thinks about what she wants to say before typing something up.

Dento looks on as he waits for Elain’s story. It takes awhile, but his phone eventually pings.

'A lot happened. I got adopted, drugged, I tripped out, my heart got removed, I saw… smth' Says one text.

Another text comes in. 'Idk… God? Smth abt data, Idk… I’m confused out of my mind man. I’m having a crisis and Idk what to do. I’m not okay'

Dento looks up from his phone, concern glossing over his eyes. Elain is looking down, looking embarrassed, fidgeting a bit.

…All of that happened?

Happened to her?

It was all so much to take in… so much for her to take in.

Dento couldn’t even believe what he had read… she saw God?

'Wdym you saw God?' Dento asks. 'And the crisis thing?'

Elain picks her phone up and responds. 'Long shadowy pillars? They had eyes all over them. Idek if they were God, that’s just what it felt like. I feel like they were'

‘Were God?'

'Yea'

'What abt the crisis?'

‘Life doesn’t feel real anymore'

Dento looks back up at Elain. Elain glances up from her screen and looks at him. Dento looks back at his phone.

'You telling the truth?'

'Yes. Istg I’m not lying to you'

'Plz God believe me'

'Please'

Each plea is it’s own message.

Dento looks back up at Elain. Elain looks at him back. Genuine desperation glossed over her eyes.

She needs him to believe her.

She’s not making anything up.

Dento then gets up from his seat and goes to Elain. He jumps onto her and hugs her tightly. She tightly hugs him back.

He believes her.

Regardless of how otherworldly it all sounds.

He’s there for her.

They make a good team.

“Hey.” Says a voice. “Here’s your order. You good?”

Dento turns back and lets Elain go. She takes her drink and Dento pays. The two stay and chat for a bit.

'U wanna try and get back into Bounty Hunting?' Dento asks.

'Yea' Elain responds.

'Whenever you’re ready'

'Yea'

—

It’s the next day.

Dento’s slept fine. Elain, on the other hand…

She struggled.

She could barely sleep. Visions of what she saw and experienced plagued her mind. Ate at her as she tried to sleep. It wouldn’t leave. It haunted her. Even without the sleep, she seemed fine enough to return, telling Dento that she’d be able to push it off. Insisting that she could handle it. Multiple times… She seemed so insistent. Why deny her when she’s so certain she’s okay? Even if she had been through something horrible… maybe she’s tolerant to it? She acted that way often.

She tried. Tried to think of anything else. She tries to keep up, no matter how hard it tears her down.

Stay optimistic.

Keep your mind off it.

Although, it’s difficult.

Dento barges into To The Point with Elain by his side, both of them dressed in their Bounty Hunting gear. Dento struts forward while Elain follows. The two head to the elevator, no one is around to see them.

It takes several minutes, but they eventually reach the CEO’s office.

Dento slams the door open, Elain stands next to him. The CEO looks down upon the duo from his desk.

“Dento, I knew you’d—“ The CEO pauses. “…What is she doing here?”

Dento firmly walks up to the CEO’s desk and stands with his hands to his hips. Elain stays by him, not really trying to look convincing.

“Ah, I see.” Says the CEO. “You want her back in.”

Dento nods. So does Elain.

“It won’t be easy, I hope you’re aware of that.” Says the CEO.

Both of them are aware. Once you lose your spot at To The Point, and you want your it back, it takes a good bit of work to get it back in your hands.

“I’ve got a bounty for you, Oinstrius Lethinns.” Says the CEO. “Not much is known about this bounty, no one’s been able to catch it, and it’s been in our sights for years.”

Dento begins looking through his Target Buddy for the bounty, Elain looks over his shoulder. Dento eventually comes across the bounty they’re after.

Elain looks at the bounty in shock.

It’s reminiscent of the pillars Elain had seen.

It looks like a weird spider. Long, lanky, shadowy legs sprouting from it’s center. A singular vibrant eye makes up it’s center and face.

It’s description is unreadable, as it’s written in binary code.

You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. You can do it.

Stay optimistic.

“I’d suggest you stay vigilant.” Says the CEO. “You catch it, your friend here gets her job back. You fail, you both lose your jobs.”

The duo looks up at the CEO, fear swelling up in them.

“Good luck.” Says the CEO. “Don’t jump out the window this time, we’ve recently bought a replacement.”

Dento and Elain nod and head out of the office.

A long day awaits them.

—

It’s been a few hours. Elain and Dento have scoured the city, but no luck. As they looked, they never spotted a single wanted poster for the bounty.

…They’re uncertain of why.

They walk down a sidewalk, thinking the hunt is a lost cause. Both of them will likely end up jobless.

As they pass down the sidewalk, Elain looks to her side. She spots a dark alley way.

She stares into it.

For a split second, she sees something in her vision.

Vibrant, piercing eyes. Staring directly at her.

She begins to tremble. Reminders of what her and Dento’s world may likely be. All of it swirling in her head. Making her head spin.

Little did she know she had tightly grabbed onto Dento’s shoulder out of fear.

Dento taps Elain’s arm. She snaps out of her existential crisis and looks to her friend. He looks at her with concern.

Elain nods, indicating that she’s okay.

Keep your chin up.

You’re fine.

You’ll be okay.

You can do it.

Stay optimistic.

Dento looks to the alley way and points, looking up to Elain. Elain nods. They enter the alley, staying close by each other.

As they walk deeper into the alley, they begin to realize just how far it goes. It feels as if there isn’t an end to it.

As they approach the supposed end… something feels off.

Screaming can be heard.

Someone’s down the alley.

Elain and Dento quickly rush toward the end, running down a path that feels ever so endless. The screaming becoming more and more audible…

…Pleas…

“No!” Shouts the voice. “No! No, please!”

As the duo approaches the end, they turn.

They look on in shock.

A man, sitting defenseless on the ground, in front of the criminal creature…

Oinstrius Lethinns.

As the man continues to plea, a bright beam of light shoots out of the creature’s eye and encompasses the man in a bright blue and violet aura.

Elain quickly recognizes the display.

…The familiar and awful feel…

The man squirms as his data gets sucked out of him, as if he were some kind of juice box to the creature. The beam and light eventually fades. The man limps.

He’s cold. Dead. Lifeless…

Elain and Dento stare at the horror, terror in their eyes.

The creature then turns to face them, staring at them with it’s singular eye.

Dento draws a gun. Elain, however…

She stands there. Completely frozen. Not moving a single limb.

The creature then shoots it’s hanging legs forward.

Toward Elain.

Toward Elain’s eyes.

Into her eyes.

The legs protrude Elain’s eyes like needles. They stab through her cornea and into her retinas. It stings. As Elain struggles to process what’s happening, she can hear gun shots.

Other than that…

Whispers…

“JOIN THE CREED.” The phrase repeats.

“JOIN THE CREED.”

“JOIN THE CREED.”

“JOIN THE CREED.”

The whispers speak and echo over each other in varying pitches. Terror for the ears. Amongst Elain’s blackened vision, familiar vibrant eyes begin to appear.

…Along with an unfamiliar figure.

The figure is faint and blurry, hard to make out. Almost like a silhouette… broad shoulders, spindly limbs…

…And the most notable and oddly perfect feature…

…A cube head…?

The head slowly rises, looking at Elain with faint, beady eyes.

“JOIN THE CREED.” Says the figure.

Suddenly, the visions disappear and the whispering and stinging stops. Elain falls on her back, normal sounds quickly take over. Gun shots and the sound of terrible demonic shrills.

Elain looks up. Dento is shooting the bounty with a gun. The creature is now writhing on the ground. After a bit, the shrills begin to fade and the creature stops moving.

Dento looks back to Elain and rushes toward her. He looks down at her with a look reminiscent of their texts…

Are you okay?

Elain’s breathing and terrified expression only gives off one word.

No.

—

Elain stands outside of To The Point, completely alone. Dento had caught the bounty and brought it in lifeless himself.

Elain waits for her friend’s return.

Her phone then buzzes. She picks it out from her pocket and sees a text from Dento.

'Told the CEO we’re gonna take a break from hunting for a bit' Says the text. 'I wanna give your head a rest. U need it'

She didn’t want a break.

But she needed one.

She needed a break from all she had witnessed.

She couldn’t help but wonder though…

Who was the figure with the cube head?

—

It’s early the next morning. Elain struggled to sleep again.

The Bounty Hunting pair remains in the separate bedrooms of their small apartment, texting each other.

'I know you don’t want a break but you need one' Dento texts Elain. 'I don’t want you to hurt yourself'

'Ik' Elain texts back.

'Promise me you’ll relax' Texts Dento. 'Please'

'I’ll try' Elain responds.

'Don’t say try' Texts Dento. 'You will'

Elain doesn’t like this.

Would she rather make herself suffer and hurt her friend, or just relax for her friends sake?

Or for her own sake?

'Elain?'

'Yea?'

'U saw my text?'

'Yes'

'Will you take it easy? Please? I don’t want you hurting yourself. When you hurt, I hurt'

'I will. For you. When you hurt, I hurt too'

'I’m glad. Thanks for listening :)'

'Yw :)'

They make a great team.

—

Elain quietly lays in bed, doing whatever she can to keep her mind from pressing on what had happened.

Her mind couldn’t help but hover over the identity of the man she saw.

Who was he? Why was he there? Questions plague her mind.

At least it’s keeping her from thinking about the eyes.

A knock is suddenly heard at Elain’s bedroom door. Dento opens the door a bit, peaking into the room and letting himself in. He closes the door and sets himself on Elain’s bed. He texts her.

‘How you doing?' Dento asks.

'Okay' Elain responds. ‘Can I talk to you abt smth?'

'Yea'

'Yesterday, that creature made me see things. Those same eyes. And a man' Texts Elain.

'Man?' Dento asks.

'He had a cube for a head, beady eyes' Texts Elain. 'Do you know anyone with a cube head?'

'No' Dento responds. 'Maybe try not think abt it. I don’t you stressing over anything'

'I will'

'Good. You need anything?'

'No'

'K, let me know if you need smth'

'I will'

Dento looks over to Elain and pats her shoulder. He then looks back to his phone.

'You need me here or no?' Dento asks.

'I wouldn’t mind it'

'You sure?'

'Yea. Can I have a hug?'

Dento reaches for Elain and hugs her. Elain hugs him back.

Elain is happy she has someone to comfort her.

—

It’s been a few days since Elain’s break had started. She’s doing a lot better. Dento’s been a big help, comforting her whenever she needed to be comforted.

She had finally gotten a good night’s sleep for the first time in days.

Elain and Dento decide to spend the day together. Get some fresh air.

The sun has already set. The Pink City is coated in a soothing purple hue. Some lights from buildings from buildings remain on while others have been shut off.

The duo sits at a table in front of a small gonstri shop, discussing life and Elain’s condition.

As they sit, they hear what sounds like the begging of a crazy person out in the streets…

…Something about helping a celebrity…?

Elain and Dento continue their night, trying to ignore the begging and pleas.

…Until the sound of quickly approaching footsteps begins to catch their attention.

It’s too late, however.

A man dressed in a sparkling violet suit body slams onto Elain and Dento’s table. The man grabs Elain by the shoulders.

“WOULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO HELP A CELEBRITY LOOK FOR HIS IDOL!?” Shouts the man.

Elain darts her eyes around before quickly and swiftly shoving the man away from her. The man continues to stare at her with wide, insane eyes.

Dento rises from his seat and steps by Elain, as if to defend her. He stares at the unknown man intently.

The man looks into Dento’s eyes as fear appears to bubble within him. He scoots himself off the table, but doesn’t leave. Instead, he continues to beg.

“Have you ever heard of a man named Darles Nemeni?” Asks the man. “Darly Boxman?”

Dento shakes his head, a no.

Elain, however, begins to recall the man she saw in her vision…

…A cube head…

Was that the man’s name?

Elain then looks to the man and outlines a box around her head.

The man’s eyes light up. “Yes!” He exclaims, pointing at her. “You know who he is?”

Elain wasn’t sure. She felt like she did…

She shrugs.

“You don’t know?” The man asks.

Elain shakes her head. She isn’t sure. Dento looks over to Elain and begins to text her.

'You heard of a Darles? Darly?' Dento asks.

'No, the guy with the cube head' Elain responds. 'What if that’s who he’s talking abt? Boxman?'

'Oh' Dento responds.

“What are you texting for?” Asks the man.

The duo looks up at the man. Dento shows his phone to the man, trying to indicate that that’s how they communicate.

The man appears to have taken notice of the contact name.

“…Elain?” Asks the man, looking to the pair.

Elain nods. She shows the man her phone to see her partner’s name.

“…Dento.” Says the man. Dento nods once the man turns to face him.

“Well, allow me to introduce myself!” Says the man. “I am TV star Hoonis Boogie! But, just call me Hoonis. Good names, by the way.” Hoonis puts a hand out.

The duo nods as Dento steps foward to Hoonis. He hesitates, but eventually shakes his hand.

“Now that that’s done, would you mind helping look for Darly Boxman?” Hoonis asks. “He’s my idol, and I’ve been trying to find him for years, but to no avail. I’ve considered asking around the city for help, and so far, you two are the only ones who haven’t run away from me! Would you mind lending a hand?”

Dento turns to Elain. Elain turns over to Dento.

Dento’s face reads as 'Can we trust him?'

Elain doesn’t automatically think so. She looks up at Hoonis. He looks back with desperate eyes.

Elain looks back over to Dento and looks back at her phone. She types.

'Not really' Elain texts. 'But I’m willing to try. I wanna find that cube head'

'You sure?' Dento asks, concerned.

'Yes' Elain responds. 'I’m curious and I wanna know who the cube head is. He can’t be that hard to work with, can he?'

'Are you stable enough?' Dento asks.

‘I’ve been doing a lot better' Elain states. 'I’ll be fine'

'You sure?' Dento asks.

'Yes' Elain responds. 'I swear to you, l’ll be okay'

'I’ll take your word for it' Dento responds. 'Let me know if you ever want to step down or you ever need help'

'I will' Elain responds.

Elain and Dento pack their phones in their pockets and face Hoonis. Elain puts her hand out for Hoonis to shake.

Hoonis’ eyes light up with happiness and excitement. He takes Elain’s hand and firmly shakes it. “Thank you, thank you!” He says. “I’m so glad you have the same desires I do!”

Elain nods as Hoonis continues to shake her hand. She’s beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Now, follow me!” Hoonis declares as he begins to drag Elain along by the arm. Dento quickly follows suit.

A grand adventure beyond what is known awaits them.

- END -

Next Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

[an-albino-pinetree]

CW FOR DISCUSSION OF POTENTIALLY DISTURBING SUBJECT MATTER!

-

-

I was trying to figure out what I, personally, thought the most terrifying tool, that Carnival!jax could use on his victims, was- and there’s a scene, in a video game, that shall not be named, (because I don’t want to accidentally introduce minors to it), where you play as a torture victim, who endures a torture/death, while very high on painkillers/unable to feel any of the things, that they saw were happening to them- and it stuck with me, as a horrifying concept.

In the updated Carinval AU lore, humans die through abstracting now?

( @sm-baby confirm)

So, I have a personal headcanon, that he really enjoys the use of painkillers. Local anaesthesia, nerve blocks, etc. He likes the strong reactions he gets out of players, horrified at watching him pull away at them, while they can’t feel it. He’ll do stuff like start to eat someone, or cut someone up/open, while they’re completely numb to any sensation, except the tugging. Just anything to get a good reaction, while he’s taking a very “hands-on” approach, to his self directed anatomy lessons. 👍🏻

It’s just easier to study them that way, and there’s less thrashing and noise, too.

[s1x-foot-deep]

People here are... sick.

[whumpitisthen]

Thoughts of Resentment

Previous I Masterlist I Next

Auden came to in an unusual position, with a distinct feeling of wrongness in his chest and a pounding headache disorienting him further. His toes are dragging against the floor of a long corridor, ankles hitting the edge of stairs as he is hoisted higher, attacked by sudden light forceful enough to penetrate his eyelids. His wings hang off his back like they have been glued on to him, barely feeling like a part of his body.

Muffled sounds and voices slowly clear as his mind untangles itself from the sleep it was forced into, turning from a storm of whispers to idle chatter and the ambience of halls. He realises he must have passed out again, from who knows what or when, finding the nauseating feeling of coming back awake to be more annoying every time it happens.

It's almost like a second awakening and a breath of fresh air as he finally leaves the catacombs of the building, feeling hotter air and the smell of a stranger’s home entering his nose. Voices and echoes of different rooms and areas pass by them — the loud ticking of a grandfather clock, the sound of fire crackling from a fireplace or a stove, the swishing of cloth curtains flowing with the current coming in from a window; and several voices echoing down from the other end of the hallway.

Two imps hold him between them, their hooves clicking across the floor with purpose. One of them seems to be teaching the other the outline of the place, explaining which turns take them where, what doors to remember, which vases and statues to memorise to make transferring this mansion simpler. He can't help noticing the strength of these ones — imps in his head have always looked like tinier, weaker demons, who live by taking advantage of people at their weakest and stealing from them. Immoral scavengers, simple parasites. The lowest layer of the hierarchy.

These ones aren't like that. They are both taller than him, and though that in itself isn't rare, for low ranking demonkind like imps, it's quite outstanding. They come in all shapes and sizes, as most others, yet he still furrows his brows in surprise. Their horns are larger, their hooves are heavier and their expressions are fiercer.  Not only that — they are even well-dressed; in suits with ruffled collars and tasteful jewellery reserved for servants like butlers and the like. An elegant design, with emerald green highlights and even some floral lace at the edges telling of how special these outfits must be; not to mention expensive.

Near every time he has set eyes on anyone here, they have left him stunned. He was never told much about Hell and its inhabitants, only ever mentioning a few details here and there about all the evil they do and how disgusting and pathetic they all are; all the reasons for why they are damned and unforgivable. What he does know about all the ranks and species and races of demons is, as he has come to realise, lacking. However impure, they are incredibly diverse and confusing, and he can't help wondering just how thin his sight of them has been all this while. Like that healer — he never even knew there were healers here.

Wait a second. The healer. The lab. He just woke up. He was just helped, and now he's being moved again. What's happening?

Suddenly, he thrashes, surprising the two holding him. As always, his first response to danger is running away and, by sheer luck, he manages to escape their hold, landing on his hands and knees in front of them.

"Wh- Get it!" — the more knowledgeable one of the two yells to the other when he looks to her for directions, — "don't let it get away!"

He scuttles backwards and breaks into a sprint, ignoring all the aches and the fire in his lungs as he begins running down the hallway. No logical thought passes through him, only a primal need to get away from the evil, the unknown, the horned devils holding him in their filthy claws. His naked feet bang along the wooden floors, closely followed by the hooves of two powerful imps chasing after him. His eyes barely register his surroundings as they flit about the walls, only searching for the furthest point away from his pursuers. Down a hallway, turn left, all the way down another, a staircase up, a blackstone bridge over what looks to be an entire river of magma — reaching the end of the road at a locked steel gate. His hands bang off the hot metal surface like they’re made of rubber, leaving him to spin back around and face the demons just catching up with him. His face burns from the hot air, seemingly steaming from all the sweat evaporating from him. The orange glow of the embers floating past him shines in his tear-filled eyes like stars.

What perplexes him most is that the imps aren’t running to him anymore.

The pair walk up to him easily, barely showing any care on their expressions. Once they come too close for comfort however, reaching the other end of the bridge, he starts breathing erratically, flexing his tormented wings in reflex. While his eyes search for any way out, his ears pick up the voice of one of the imps; — “didn’t know angels could be this dumb. How’d you know it’d come this way?”

The other snorts, — “honestly? I just assumed. Every corridor leads this way eventually; I doubted he would try climbing down any spiral staircases instead of running in a straight line.”

They knew he would end up here. They barely pursued him, knowing he would get himself cornered. His knees buckle, sending him to the ground. His gut is knotting itself around his stomach. He can’t believe he just proved his foolishness so outright. To imps, no less.

“Careful with the princess; she’s slippery,” — she warns her servant buddy, readying those claws to grip him again and bring him who knows where. The other nods at her murmur, jumping into an attack position, ready to pounce. Never in his life had he imagined he would be scared of two measly imps. He considers leaping off the bridge, as much out of shame as desperation.

A split second is all it takes, and they are on top of him, wrangling all his limbs in the right position to capture him. He fights with all his might, kicking and screaming at them, cursing them like never before. He only manages to kick out twice successfully, reaching for the demons’ limbs, but neither of them buckles at all. His tears slide onto the stone under him, burning and steaming as his chin does, shoved into the scalding hot ground. He cries out in pain now, fear no longer overriding physical sensations, and he is almost baffled when his head is wrenched up not a second later. A curse leaves the one holding him.

“What did I say? Careful with it!” —  she yells at the other, — “give it here. This one’s precious, and I’m not losing my damn head because of your idiocy. Open the door.”

He feels some of the weight leaving his wings and legs, and hears a ‘sorry’ as the other turns to hurry towards the gate. Of course; they can’t hurt him. He doesn’t belong to them, they are only here to transfer him safely. He thanks his God, as he always does, that he won’t be abused any more. Not by these two, at the very least. And as always, the one he thanks is not truly who helped him, yet he would rather go through the worst torture Hell has to offer than to show gratitude to any of these horned beasts. They are lucky they are even allowed to see him, much less touch and hurt him without punishment.

‘And who exactly allowed them to do just that?’

He shakes his head free of that cursed thought. He did this to himself, no one else. He deserves this. To even think like that shows he is exactly where he belongs.

‘Everything you have gone through was allowed. Is allowed, and will be allowed. What kindness that is. To be allowed to be hurt.”

He grunts, a soft migraine building behind his eyes suddenly — and just like that, it disappears. He cannot allow himself to think like this. He will not succumb to this hellscape. His mind is already suffering; how could it not? He has been here far longer than he ever would have liked to. His discomfort is picked up on by the one holding him, and he is pulled right back on his feet, clutched close in a grip resembling a hug from behind so he cannot move his wings. His vision swims again, and then clears.

Those large steel doors are pushed open with the help of more servants. He suddenly finds himself surrounded by a dozen more imps, some larger demons he doesn’t recognise. There is no escape from here anymore. This is where he will be executed, surely. No amount of struggling will let him through the wall of guards and the literal wall of metal once he is brought in there. He weeps quietly, all power leaving his body as he is grabbed by more hands, more claws, more demons. It almost seems like they morph into one large horror, consuming him whole. Pulling him into its stomach to become one with it, or to be made to scream forevermore.

Through the cacophony of demons and his own thoughts, a single voice cuts through. A bold one; loud, assertive, in charge. The voice of Miss Thu’lin herself.

"Oh, hurry up already. I just have to take a look at it." — Her voice booms over everyone else, a deep, almost guttural melody. A joyous tone riddled with impatience, she towers over them all with her arms out to the side in a wide gesture. — "Come, bring it here!"

He is brought in, and his breath disappears from his lungs.

A massive circular room filled to the brim with a collection of unholiness. The walls are hidden behind a layer of paintings, depicting all manner of gore, damnation, cruelty, perversion. Statues of angels, ones so similar to him, gutted, hanged, skinned, violated. Pieces of angel's holy bodies on display behind glass, cleaned of blood, but just as horrifying. Half a pair of wings, a heart that still beats a slow rhythm, bottles filled with all manner of organs and fluids, feathers, hair, teeth, nails. Books with holy and unholy symbols, surely about demonic rituals involving unfortunate Fallen. Flora and fauna of his home, his Heaven, behind glass domes that must be carefully cared for to be alive still. Instruments, art, clothing, pieces of furniture, magical artifacts… A room of holy suffering and devotion — how fitting for him to be brought here. It's almost too perfect. Then again, is that not the reason he must have ended up right here? A mad collector of anything holy, a twisted and evil individual of Hell with the power to gather all these items unavailable to most creatures here in a show of wealth and power.

And in the middle of it all, she stands, her green dragon eyes glimmering in excitement, her wings folded behind her, her scaled skin shimmering crimson like blood. She walks forward, a laugh bubbling out of her at the sight of him, clasping her clawed hands together in joy. Every step she takes can be felt through the floor. Her awfully sharp teeth are on full display as she opens her mouth to smile down on him.

"Oh, what a dear! You came a long way to meet me, didn't you honey?" — she coos at him, leaning over him. He had never met anyone as tall as her; he feels like a little mouse. — "Yes, you are just perfect, aren't you? The only thing missing from my museum. A lovely little centrepiece, oh, you will look just lovely immortalised here."

She touches him in the same way every other demon seems to enjoy so much — without asking, without care, invading his skin with their gross, filthy hands. He barely thinks to flinch away, he is so… what would be the best word to use here? Mesmerised? Baffled? Stunned? Scared past the fear of death?

Well, he can't quite figure it out before he is moved again, pulled towards the middle of the room following closely behind Miss Thu'lin. Most other servants leave to return to their jobs, only a few staying behind to keep him behaved. His feet drag on the floor, his soul is shivering in a way it has never before, and yet in a way that is so familiar by now. There has not been more than a moment's peace reserved for him since he fell, tormented ever since. Or has there?

Right. The healer. It's here too.

Standing next to some sort of fountain spewing a dark liquid out of itself, it watches him be manhandled onto the floor with the same fascinated observation as it did the first time they met. Seeing it outside of the lab almost seems surreal, like it doesn't truly belong here. Perhaps it's the sweltering heat or the awful environment, but he swears he sees it open a mouth he thought didn't exist to sigh. He isn't sure if he imagined it, or the huge pearly-white teeth poking out, yet he can't bring himself to dwell on it, his eyes stuck to two smaller imps bringing ropes and tools and equipment into the room diligently.

Though he knows already what awaits him, seeing his execution prepared in front of him like this steals the soul out of his body. Those hooks hanging from the ends of the ropes don't escape him, nor do the tools similar to what he saw the Doctor use downstairs. Unknown liquids and sharp edges, knowing glances from the two demons conversing — about him certainly, though he cannot hear past the buzz of simultaneous anxiety and numbness clouding his mind. They both look to him now, cruelty in their dark eyes.

"You sure took your time with this one," — Miss Thu'lin says, seemingly always impatient, to the Doctor — "you must excuse my curiosity, Doctor, but how come he is still so damaged?"

The Doctor twists its head at her in a disapproving manner. No noise escapes it, yet the lady of the house somehow knows exactly what it means.

"Of course I don't doubt your skills, but I can't help but wonder… If it still looks like this past your attentive care, what condition was it in to begin with?" — She squints her eyes at it, a puff of smoke sliding through her teeth. — "Naturally, it would be distasteful for me to assume your medical professionalism has dulled. So I am simply curious."

She is suspicious of it, but he doesn't know why. It works for her, clearly, and all it did was help him. As far as he can remember, at least. He did wake up already out of the clinic, on his way here. His stomach churns with the unease following his realisation that he barely remembers what happened, and has no recollection of it all past that bitter liquid he drank. The wrongness in his chest flares in a pulsing signal.

It does not hesitate to walk over to him and grab him itself, sending away the other servants holding him with a flick of its hands. It looks him in the eyes, willing him to stay in place, but it doesn't need to. He doesn't think he could get off his knees if he tried, and if anything, that look alone has turned his bones into mush.

It circles him then, lifting his arms, setting a claw in the middle of his chest and pulling it down lightly. Grabs his chin and moves it around. Faces him and moves its own eyes to look up-down-left-right, then back to him, telling him to do the same. He starts doing it, but is stopped and turned towards Miss Thu'lin instead, and he understands then that he is being shown off to her, explaining to her what was done to him by the Doctor. He wishes he had the motivation to resist, but he simply tries to keep still with a fierce warmth enveloping his cheeks as she observes his eyes from up close.

It moves to his wings again, and the exact same way he did down in the lab, he instantly flinches away. He does not get far, because its claws have found their way around his throat in a millisecond, pinning him to the floor from behind. He barely has time to gasp, so shocked from the lightning fast reflexes and sudden aggression of this demon, who has mostly been gentle and helpful to him, now on top of him in an instant, patience seemingly having left it completely. It cannot be that it thought he would make a run for it and escape. It is smarter than that. It did it to show him this can be done this way too, with force and discomfort and threats. It did it to will him into submission, without words, without a single question asked, without mercy. Wings on full display, it reaches for them again, and besides a muted, brief jerk, he forces himself still. It is still looking him in the eyes from on top of him, squishing his cheek into the ground.

Now it moves those agonising things around like he's a toy, bending them this way and that, stretching them out, ruffling his blackened feathers. He has never felt so violated, the shame he feels strong enough to distract him from the fact that it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as even the slightest touch did before.

With a last run of its fingers through his hair — much slower than needed or comfortable, — he watches them stare at each other a while; the Doctor and the lady of the house. Miss Thu'lin then nods, and backs off of the both of them. He could not be more relieved when the grip leaves his neck finally, and the weight is lifted off him once more. He doesn't dare move except for the ever present quivering of his flesh.

"I see," — Miss Thu'lin concludes, the smile returning to her face as she turns her attention back to him, — "you've gone through a lot, sweetheart. Our Doctor took good care of you. They have soothed your pain, haven't they? A mercy, unnecessary in my opinion."

The way she talks to him sounds nice, but it isn't quite right. It feels like she isn't being kind, moreso using a tone one would use with a child or a pet. She sees him as nothing but a lost fawn in the den of lions, leading him away into the clutches of predators. He cannot hold his tears back any longer, and weeps in front of her. He never was much of a crier, though only now does he know he never truly had much to cry about to begin with. He misses his home and he misses his human. He wishes for his life to come to an end, and yet, even now, he is too scared of what is about to happen to him to ask for these two to just get on with it. He sobs brokenly at that thought.

She hushes him, but doesn't calm him. — "No need for that, angel. I have waited so, so long for you to be sent here. Do you see this? All of this?" — She gestures around the room, her rotten museum of agony. — "It was missing only one piece. Only one, for decades. You are that last piece. And you are finally here. You should feel joy to be part of my glorious collection. Immortalised in beautiful suffering, at the centre of it all…"

She talks to him like any of that is supposed to make him feel better. Like it is a good thing she has a cursed spectacle filled with angel gore. And all that, for what? To say she did it. For others to look at and know that she has gathered this all up in one place and put it on display, to let them all know she is powerful and wealthy and not one to mess with, spitting on even Heaven and everything holy in the process.

"I wish you never got to finish this abomination," — he whispers defiantly, brokenly.

Got to. She has already finished it. She got him here, and he has nowhere else to go. He really was the last piece. He is already part of it. He can't help but wonder; was this really his destiny? Did his God truly make him for this end?

'One would think your God holds no cruelty in its heart. What a joke.'

Of course this was not his destiny. It was of his own fault he became the last piece of a twisted puzzle. Resentment towards his fate should only reinforce this fact. What an awful example of an angel he was, mind bubbling with ungrateful, terrible thoughts like this.

The first noise he ever hears the Doctor make is a chuckle. It chuckled at what he had said, hiding its nonexistent mouth behind its claws. Miss Thu'lin did not look nearly as amused. The opposite, in fact.

"How dare you talk to me this way? Calling my masterpiece an abomination!" — She towers over him, fuming, almost literally. She stalks closer, and he is truly afraid now. — "I will not be insulted by a filthy, wretched, broken little rat. You are going to pay for this, and then you will be hung from the ceiling by your wings stretched with silver hooks. I will make you pay, you little bastard!"

Her hand is sent flying through the air, aiming for his face to backhand him hard enough to twist his head off his shoulders. He turns away, eyes squeezed shut, and waits. Maybe he won't have to feel the pain of anything anymore, if he is hit hard enough. The slap is heard, but doesn't land.

"You-!"

He opens his eyes timidly, seeing two hands floating in front of him. Miss Thu'lin's, just a few inches away from hitting him. And the Doctor's, catching her by the wrist effortlessly. They watch each other, an intense staring contest between powerful demons. The two hands tremble, but he can't tell which one of them is shaking. To his surprise, Miss Thu'lin yields first.

"Fine. Unhand me."

She is let go. The Doctor backs off. Auden is frozen still.

The draconic sneers at the Doctor standing in front of him like a fickle shield, reaching for a stray lock of hair that escaped from her golden headpiece when she lashed out and turning her back to the two of them, shaking herself out of such an unseemly show of emotion. The Doctor looks at Auden, but its expression somehow does not manage to comfort him.

"Let's begin then. Before another stupid word could make it out of your mouth.” — Miss Thu’lin murmurs, unclear about which one of them she was speaking to, — “I have waited long enough for this moment."

~

Masterlist | Ko-fi