#elder godposting

[imjunebitch]

channelers chapter one: feeling small and as though creation is fucked

im June, bitch! and this is Channelers, a dumb series about wizards, God, and things that call themselves gods.

tw: gratuitous body horror, asshole queerphobe protagonist (just in this chapter), gratuitous dick jokes, scary elements kinda, existential dread, and nodens.

reblogs and feedback always appreciated :D

Fear greatly, for though GOD knows no equality, that Supreme Being does know equity. You who hold His power, know that while you live, all Creation must then groan, and the darkness that predates time will also know your name-

~~

"You were nine years old when it happened, and you would tell them you didn't remember it, but you did, you do. You let yourself internally categorize the question as another, simpler question, 'did you see anything helpful, anything that makes sense.' And no, you didn't, so you felt justified lying then, as a child, and lying now, even to the doctor you pay actual money, under the pretense of having someone who you could be fully honest with. You don't even admit it to yourself.

You went out to the road at night at your grandparents house with your older cousin, and he pointed where the long, narrow road stretched out between two seemingly endless walls of trees, and the thin dusky light emanating lazily from the porch dissolved into utter darkness, blacker than black, and grinned, and said whoever walked the furthest without turning and running would win.

And you'd whined, but then he called you a baby, and you weren't a fucking baby, you were nine years old, and he laughed, and said you were too a baby, listen to yourself, saying the word fuck like you had never said it before, you were bad at it. That made you angry, and you walked quickly down the road. He followed you, mocking you initially, and then falling silent.

The darkness was big. It was so big that it was like slipping out of light entirely, floating into space, no energy, no sound, nothing, nothing. Your cousin spoke quietly, said you could turn around, and you knew he was trying to trick you, so you kept going.

And then it was so dark that you could not see your arms or legs, and you heard your cousin scream, and you ran. You ran. You left him.

You moved as quickly as you could, and heard screams cut short, and saw that you could not see any part of your body, and you felt that your feet were no longer touch any ground at all. You knew you were moving forward, but as you wiggled your fingers and toes and realized that you could not do that, as you no longer had toes or fingers to wiggle, you realized you were not running. You could not.

You were alone, of course, truly alone, and nothing seemed to exist but blackness. But in the mind of a human, especially a child, anthropomorphizing anything and everything is unavoidable, so you imagined the malicious or uncaring void that had taken your cousin as a great, monstrous black goat. This brought you a little comfort. You imagined that your cousin had not simply vanished, that perhaps he had been eaten. This, too, was comforting. You spoke, and heard your own voice, either aloud or in your head. You giggled hysterically in relief, and began to speak.

Sometimes when you were young you would whisper terrible things to yourself in bed and feel the dark joy, shame, and terror of transgression. You would say things like I love Satan and then laugh and weep in terror, in your bed, late at night. In that moment, you didn't pay attention to what you were saying, because you knew it would terrify you, petrify you, make you scream and weep. You spoke words you would never say.

And when they found your curled up on the side of the road and asked you where your cousin was you lied and said you didn't k-"

~~

Eddie liked to feel important. It was truly among his favorite things. So although the job paid chickenshit, although the people he worked with filled him with a mild sense of loathing, although seeing the fucking scene kids and teenage skater assholes made him feel older than he was, and sapped him of hope for the future, the simple fact that being a mall security guard let him wear a uniform, and carry a baton, even if he wasn't really allowed to use it, was enough of a thrill to keep him more than happy.

Eddie's life was not interesting, but he was not an interesting man. He had light brown hair, which he cut short. His face looked a little bit like it had been broken apart and then mended, almost, almost perfectly. Proportions and composition just a little off.

He would wake up in the morning and walk to work. Sometimes he would allow himself breakfast, usually from the food court, and then he would walk to his locker, put on his uniform, and grab his baton. Occasionally the blue dyed-hair, pimply fucker he worked with would remark on how he seemed to enjoy holding the baton just a smidgen too much, and ask if he felt the object was phallic in any sense. He wouldn't respond to them.

Today they were nowhere to be found, God be blessed, and so he slipped his uniform on in silence. It was crisp. Nobody else kept their uniform crisp. Eddie liked to think he would have made a good police officer. Or perhaps a military officer. But no, it was the mall, the mall for him. He reminded himself as he looked around the dingy locker room (green, almost brown walls, metal benches, gray and somehow almost preternatural levels of grime and stickiness coating the metal of the lockers themselves) that you only had what you were given. He held this power, at least, over his tiny slice of creation. He tried not to be ungrateful, but it was difficult. 28 fucking years old, and this was all he had?

A bad line of thought. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Were you meant to do that the other way? He wasn't sure. Whatever, breathing didn't do shit anyway.

He grasped his baton firmly, cursing the barely adult shit-stain for making him think of it as a penis intermittently, and walked out to do his job.

His job consisted of walking the mall, which he often did like a man in a trance, and listening to his radio, from which he would periodically be told that there was an issue. When there was an issue, he would go to the person or people causing it and speak in low, friendly tones, and clutch his baton, firmly and suggestively. No- Not "firmly and suggestively," fuck, fuck that blue-haired cumstain. He would grasp it... No... Grip it, grip it with authority- FUCK.

He would hold it and tacitly threaten the troublemaker. There. Goddamnit. But that rarely happened. When it did, it utterly delighted him. It was a moment of brightness in an otherwise dull and overly repetitive life. A brief respite from his irritatingly routine existence. As he clutched the blunt, firm, thick rod-

God fucking damnit, he couldn't stop thinking about penises now.

Nothing much was happening today. Mall goths were congregating in their quiet, pale-faced circles. Old men and women were walking with apparent determination and enthusiasm. Stanley, who sold T-shirts and was easily ten years his senior, waved at him.

"Hey, Stanley," Eddie murmured quietly, looking at the wrinkly, large-headed man. Stanley smiled disingenuously and spoke in whatever accent he spoke in. "Hello Edward. Where is the kid?" Eddie groaned "Sick, probably? Hell if I know. Not here, that's enough for me." Stanley smiled. "Not your friend, then." Eddie sighed. "Not my friend. Obviously not my friend. I doubt that I have ever said anything about them to you that wasn't derisive."

Stanley shrugged. "Edward, all day I talk to people. Customers, coworkers, bastards who walk the mall and purchase nothing. My skull contains no room for your petty squabbles." Eddie paused. Hm. That was fair. It still upset him vaguely that Stanley didn't seem to care that much about him, so he spun in his heel and walked down the hall.

It was a quiet day, because it was almost always a quiet day. There were no fights to break up, no customers aggressive enough to warrant being called in for a warning. Even the joy he took in verbally degrading his coworkers was unattainable, as he was alone that day. Hell, no teenagers seemed interested in harassing him. It was a cold day in hell, then. Although quiet days were common, today went above and beyond, he thought.

Lunch was a fucking cup of pretzel bites from the goddamn pretzel star, because he hadn't packed a lunch. It tasted like butter and nothing else, because he'd forgotten to ask for salt. Why the fuck didn't they just assume salt? Who the hell asks for pretzel bites and doesn't want salt? He didn't mention this to the older woman, because he was a coward, and also an asshole who assumed that she wasn't fluent in English. He drank a diet pepsi.

The first screams came from the hallway adjacent to the Belk, where he sat in a bench eating his fucking butter bread nuggets. The first were screams of panic, then of pain. And Eddie was not a scream expert, but he could tell the difference. The sound was followed by the noise a human hand might make in a blender. It sounded amplified, distorted, crunching and sucking noises looping and overlapping. The hot topic was on the other end of the mall, so it wasn't music...

Eddie was not a brave man, really. He was the opposite. So what he did made no sense. Well, initially he sat perfectly still, rigid and unthinking in his fear, staring blankly at the off-white and shiny black tiles that covered the ground of the hall, grime-encrusted, cracked, and listened to the auditory equivalent of gore, and then he looked up at the older Asian woman working at the pretzel star. Her eyes were wide with fear and she suddenly bolted for the Belk.

Eddie did not bolt for the Belk.

He should have.

He was not a brave man, but neither was he a smart man, not particularly. But that neither explains nor justifies precisely how stupid he was in that moment. Running towards a sound like that. He crossed a corner and looked blankly at an older man walking around the corner.

The man was old, sticky, short. Bald, with a crown of thin white hair around his head, poking around his ears. His skin was a strange, almost red tint, like he was sunburned or very, very cold. When he saw Eddie, he stared blankly, and smiled lifelessly, with wide, watery black eyes.

"I'm a security guard," Eddie said. "I'm here to help." The man smiled wider, and then collapsed onto the ground with a wet slap. Judging by the fluid trickling from his body, Eddie realized that he was probably lacking, at least, the very outermost layer of his skin.

The blood was flowing like a small stream, down the hallway, towards where a thin curtain seemed to have been stretched in the middle, forming a wall. The hall, what he could see of it, was eerily empty.

He began to turn and walk, but then the body began to twitch and move. His back began to shift, and almost roll.

And then his spine left his body.

The curtain down the hallway began to stretch and tear, with a thick, leathery noise, and a strange scent emanated from the other side. Eddie asked himself what that scent might be, but he asked this with the fullness of knowledge of what it was. It felt best, to wonder. Easier.

the spine dragged the man's limp body forward, and the body reached out, clawing at him almost absentmindedly, crawling like a slug. Eddie squealed in a high voice, and

Pain, then, exploding through his leg as the body's teeth sank into his thigh, with a hoarse, harsh scream, thrashing, scream from him, not the body, pain so great that separating things felt impossible. Brain on fire.

He slammed the baton into the head of the body, and let out a quiet gasp as it's head exploded, bursting like a water balloon. He leapt out of the way, tightly clinging to himself and falling in the floor.

UP.

BOY. GET UP.

"Who? Who the fuck said that?"

The voice was booming, deep, paternal, and it had no apparent origin.

THE CONSTRUCT IS NOT YET DESTROYED, NUMBNUTS. GET UP. GET UP, COWARD. YOU HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE SPECIAL. STOP BEING A COWARD. FUCKING. STOP IT.

"Who the fuck are you? What is going on-?"

The voice sighed loudly, and Eddie shook his head rapidly. The voice was coming from inside his head, he could tell. It wasn't making any sense.

BOY. THIS DOES NOT MATTER. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU DESTROY THE CONSTRUCT. IT HAS A TASTE FOR YOU NOW. DO THIS. OR DIE. TAKE YOUR METAL PHALLUS...

"It's a FUCKING baton!!!"

TAKE YOUR METAL PHALLUS. USE IT TO DESTROY THE CONSTRUCT, JUST BE CERTAIN TO GET AS LITTLE OF IT ON OR IN YOU AS POSSIBLE. DO THIS.

Eddie looked down at the body. It had no head now, but it was still moving, somehow. The spine was splintered into three long strands, the center working to hold the body together, and the other two moving... The ribcage. Like a mouth. Jesus fucking Christ.

It staggered to its feet... well, not exactly, not ex-fucking-actly, but it forced itself into an upright position and began to crawl forward. Eddie shrieked, slamming his baton into the bone-jaw, watching in terror and vague, adrenalin-fueled excitement as the rib-teeth shattered. The baton was fucking... Glowing? Blue, it seemed blue. Less so on further examination, but his head was saying"blue," even if his eyes didn't agree.

The body's arm seemed to almost cannibalize itself for resources, disintegrating, reforming as a fleshy tendril, and whipping towards him.

Pain, but that was clearly a given.

FUCKING HOPELESS the voice said quietly, and Eddie felt an unreasonable urge to prove it wrong. He took his metal baton, which still has the strange blue glimmer, and raised it over his head, slamming it into the body over and over again, letting red mist spray, until the body collapsed, seemingly unable to hold itself together.

Eddie laughed. He slumped to the ground. "Fuck you, voice. I killed it. I killed the goddamn zombie."

YEAH, CONGRATULATIONS, BIG MAN. YOU DESTROYED A SINGLE CONSTRUCT. EXCELLENT. THE VERY GOD-DAMNED EXTREMITY OF AN OLD ONE WAS, INDEED, DAMAGED.

"Fuck you. Who are you, anyway?"

NEVER HALLUCINATED BEFORE? KIDDING. I AM NODENS. I AM AN ELDER GOD.

"Ah. Of course. Fucking answers, snappy."

NO. I HAVE EXPLAINED THINGS FAR TOO MANY TIMES TO GO OVER THE BASICS WITH ANOTHER LITTLE BITCH. THE ANSWERS YOU SEEK CAN ONLY COME FROM ANOTHER CHANNELER. NO, DON'T FUCKING ASK ME WHAT A CHANNELER IS. THERE IS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR KIND BEHIND THE SKIN CURTAIN

"Oh, that's what that is? That's disgusting." Eddy shuddered and walked towards the skin curtain. It seemed to be muffling all sound behind it. Because he wasn't thinking right, at all, (he was fairly certain that... Nodens, or whatever was influencing him) he walked up to the curtain and pressed his hand against the layer of skin.

His hand slipped right through. He let out a strangled cry and fell forward, through the skin, and onto the other side.

Holy fuck.

Holy, fuck, a goddamn sphere of body parts was in the center. Writhing, connecting, attaching and detaching. Eddie staggered back, and the skin didn't let him slip through that way. He let out a high, shallow noise, and looked at the walls of skin coating the... Well, the walls.

The sphere was so big, so detailed and variant in form, like a fucking viscera mandala, that even describing it felt like a waste of time. Too much to analyze, and his brain blocked out.

SEE, NOW THAT'S A RESPECTABLE CONSTRUCT, the voice said, it's tone low and almost bored. YOU TOOK THAT DOWN? THAT'D BE SOMETHING TO BRAG ABOUT. BUT I THINK SHE HAS IT COVERED.

Eddie looked up, and saw her. Well, he assumed it was a "her..." Her features were a little androgynous. She was pale, with long, brown hair tied in a loose ponytail, with a long face that reminded him of a bird, or less politely, a rodent. She was wearing a blue-colored suit, the top of which was far too big for her, the tie hanging loosely and the jacket billowing around her, and she was holding a long rifle.

And then things got a little insane: there was the floating head of a hairless cat beside her. A cat's head, clear as fucking day, floating in the air. It was fucking talking too. It's voice was high and shrieky, like nails on a damned chalkboard board and it was saying

THE ONE THING THAT IS TRUE OF ALL THAT DRAWS BREATH IS THAT IT CAN CEASE TO DO SO! ALL WITH BLOOD INSIDE IT CAN BLEED. ALL THAT LIVES CAN DIE! THE PURPOSE OF ALL THAT LIVES IS THUS: TO KILL OR DIE. ALL ELSE IS DISTRACTION!

"Yep," the woman in the suit muttered wearily. "Any new talking points?"

ONLY THIS: I LIKE YOU VERY MUCH. PLEASE DO NOT DIE YET.

The woman giggled, aiming her rifle at the meat sphere. "Aww, are we being sweet, Bastet? How unlike you." Having taken aim, she fired, and Eddie essentially gave up on his life ever making sense again.

The bullets broke open in mid air, like a corn kernel popping. The things bursting forth from the bullets seemed to be far, far too big for those bullets to contain.

They were cats, metal cats, capable of movement, apparently, despite their forms being uniform, and lacking in joints or anything like that.

"What the fuck?" Eddie whispered, and the voice laughed. THAT IMPRESSES YOU? HOLY SHIT, YOU BABY. SIMPLE FUCKING CONSTRUCT, MORON. SURE, VERY IMPRESSIVE IN FORM, BUT SIMPLE FUCKING THING IN FUNCTION. ESPECIALLY WITH THE ELDER GOD HELPING. Eddie blinked, twice. "But... how does the cat fit inside the...?" IT ABSORBS MINERALS IN THE AIR AROUND IT AND RECONFIGURES THE ATOMS- WAIT, NO, FUCK YOU, I JUST SAID I'M NOT EXPLAINING SHIT.

Eddie sighed and shook his head. The metal cat things were tearing into the meat orb now, and it appeared to be screaming, which was... Utterly terrifying. The woman(?) was smiling vaguely at the sight, and the cat head was grinning insanely. And then the meat sphere started crawling. It moved like a huge amoeba, pseudopodia and all, gliding on the floor. The metal cats yelped as mouths with teeth of bone formed, fangs tearing into them.

FUCK! MY PRECIOUS BABIES! AVENGE ME, SLAVE!

"Please stop calling me a slave..." the woman in the suit muttered quietly. "This is a consensual partnership."

The meat orb clearly hadn't focused it's efforts on creating a set of vocal chords also the screams were haphazard and raw. It was doing it's best to rebuild the parts it broke, meat slithering over. The purpose of the skin cocoon was apparent now.

The skin was growing, thickening. Hastily made limbs glided towards it, tearing off chunks and bringing it over towards the mass.

FASCINATING. LOOK BOY! A SIMPLE ORGANIC WARD, AND IT HAS AUTOMATIC, FAST GROWING REPLENISHMENT! WHY, ONE MUST ALMOST ADMIRE THE CREATURE, VILE THOUGH IT IS. AN OLD ONE IS WISE INDEED!

"No, one mustn't admire it, particularly if one has NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Eddie hissed angrily.

MY DEAR MAN. I DON'T GIVE A JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SHIT.

"You stole that, you fucking stole that joke from the internet!"

YOU CLEARLY HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DOING ANYTHING HELPFUL IN THIS SITUATION

"Yeah, I'm not an idiot-"

THUS, AS EVER, IT FALLS TO ME. KEEL OVER, BITCH.

Eddie fell to his knees, his grip on the cudgel loosening, and with his eyes and jaw slack, and open, he keeled over and lost consciousness.

~~

Nodens had forgotten what flesh felt like, so initially he was hit by the crushing pressure of the violent flowing of blood in his body, smothered under the weight of meat, fat and muscle, piled on fragile and impermanent bone. He remembered to breathe, and some of the crushing weight lifted. He curled his lip. Breathing was such a miserable chore, god damn the evolutionary process for failing to make that reflexive.

Moving, too, was a chore. The weight of meat, of red flesh on flimsy bone. A precarious, tiring, awful chore. Arms, fingers, toes, legs... walking was supposed to be just like riding a bike, he thought. And then he realized, of course, that he could not ride a bike at all, and he shook his head fiercely and angrily.

He looked forward, clutching the large metal phallus that the boy had chosen to be his conduit. The Old one was hiding inside a large, and, he grudgingly admitted to himself, fairly impressive construct, with growth wards providing an endless supply of skin. He bared his teeth, grinning. The thrill of the chase!

Bastet glimpsed over towards him.

INTERLOPER she screamed, and her assistant/worshipper/lover/however they chose to define the relationship between God and Channeler looked forward too.

Nodens smiled "Hello, ancient enemy. The Old One is mine to slay, using this puppet. Step off, my dear BITCH."

ALL THAT LIVES IS MY DOMAIN, HUNTER!!!!

The woman in the suit cleared her throat. "Bastet, my crepuscular queen, the more flesh turned against this beast, the happier I am, in all honesty." Nodens snorted. "Your opinion means less than nothing, insect."

SHE'S MY FAVORITE INSECT, AND THUS SHE IS INFINITELY MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU!!!! YOU SHOULD SURRENDER TO THE GREAT DARKNESS NOW!!!!

"Do not make such insults so casually, my friend," Nodens snarled. "Remember your goddamn place." The woman in the suit rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

"if this shit turns into one of those elder god rap battles, im gonna be sooo pissed."

A FLYTING? NO, I HAVE DOUBT IN THE NECESSITY OF SUCH A THING.

"i do feel the need to point out that the flesh construct remains intact and the old one hidden from view."

Nodens bared his teeth. Yes, perhaps that was a more important concern than MILLENNIUM OLD BEEF with another Elder God. He grabbed the metallic phallus, and raising it high, ran forward. So much forward motion so early might have been a bad idea, but it felt the honorable thing to do.

He heard the bang-bang-bang of the suited priestess and her gun, and scoffed, guns were for cowards, rolling his eyes at the metal cat constructs joining the fray. He tore into the walls of meat with the metal phallus, glowing blue with unnatural light. The meat slipped apart wetly, with little effort. Piss-poor composition, not that it mattered, since the skin wards let it just grow the fuck back.

"Um... I think that we should focus on getting to the actual Old One and not waste time on the construct, because we could fight the construct for-frikkin-ever," the suit wearing priestess opined. Nodens gritted his teeth. The mortal was right, an ever embarrassing thing to admit. He brought the phallus down on a wall of flesh again, and set about tearing an entryway into it.

Hard work, fortunately the construct was not built for offensive purposes. Those minor constructs like the one the boy had felled filled that purpose. This one was a dumb animal, a literal living shield, built around the real threat. It ate, shat, and contained blood, and it did little else, as was it's design.

Metal cats were worming their way in now too, like, well, worms, burrowing into an apple. Eddie's body was giving in already. Nodens snorted. Channeler the boy may be, but he was still human flesh and bone. Weak. He was approaching the Old One now, a fraction of nothingness in a universe that otherwise, for all it's faults, existed. He could feel the sound of it's real silence, in his teeth and jawbone. The body he wore was shaking.

He tried to ignore the way it moved and looked. The way his brain struggled in vain to recognize anything in the pure nothingness ahead of him, and the way his brain filled that empty space with a hundred thousand swirling nightmare visions, none of them real but all of them preferable to the tableau of incomprehensible nonexistence ahead of him. Thank god it was a small one, not capable of thought, not capable of seeing him. His body was reacting in utter terror and though a Channeler was something stronger than a human, he knew that the body would fail in time. Its divinity granted it about five minutes of prolonged exposure of this sort.

This was hard, one of the hardest possible things to do. Nodens allowed about half of his spirit to slip from Eddie's body, so he could work in tandem as God and Priest. Every God could do something that looked like it, but actual creation was impossibly draining. Blood flowed from Eddie's nose, mouth, ears, and eyes, but he wasn't going to die, anyway, and this was what Channelers were for. Batteries.

It wasn't very much. Just a couple of hydrogen molecules in the middle of the Old One, where nothing--literally, truly nothing--had existed before. The Old One was forced for the first time to acknowledge itself, to exist, and where it had not existed before, there was now a patch of air, mingling molecules and gasses.

Nodens let out a loud, agonized cry as he was torn back into the dreamlands, and Eddie crumpled to the floor like a fallen house of cards. And the construct around him collapsed.

~~

WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO BURN THIS ENTIRE MALL DOWN

"I know that, Bastet."

IT'S LIKE A FUCKING BOSCH PAINTING IN THERE. AND YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN THE SECURITY GUARD, HE SEEMS LIKE A CUNT. SHOULD HAVE LET ME EAT HIM WHEN I OFFERED.

"You think everyone is bad, B."

IF HE'S MEAN TO YOU, I'LL EAT HIM

"I told you to stop babying me about the trans thing. I'm a grown ass woman-"

NOT ABOUT THAT. IF ANYONE IS MEAN TO YOU FOR ANY REASON I'LL FUCKING CUT THEM. YOU'RE NICE AND COOL.

"I love you too, B."

...

Quiet grumbling followed, and Eddie wondered why his head hurt so goddamn much, and where he was. Dark, cramped, and... Judging by the sounds... And the feeling of motion... Was... Was he in the trunk of a car? He sniffed heavily. He smelled like shit and raw meat. This was, he realized, probably because of all of the blood he was soaked in. He let out a high, shrill scream.

"Shit. I think he's broken."

WELL, HARD AS IT IS TO SAY, I THINK HE'S LOST ALL USE TO US. YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HIM. I'LL MAKE THE SACRIFICE AND EAT HIM.

"Yeah, well, that's real good of you, B."

MY KINDNESS KNOWS NO BOUNDS.

"Don't you remember when I first realized I was a Channeler? I was confused, scared, panicked.... You helped me, and look where we are now!"

I HELPED YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE HOT, THAT'S LITERALLY IT. HE LOOKS LIKE SHIT.

Eddie took the time and energy to be offended, despite his current state. The car hit a pothole and he almost vomited.

TAKE SOME ADVICE, L. THIS GUY IS AN ASSHOLE. I THINK HE HAS PISSED HIMSELF BACK THERE. HE'S A DUMBASS. DON'T TRAIN HIM. LET ME EAT HIM INSTEAD. I'LL BROIL HIM, CUT HIM UP, SHIT, WE CAN SHARE! I'LL GIVE YOU THE VERY BEST PIECES.

"I still don't eat people. Nor will I, ever. And I'm not training this guy anyway. Our mutual friend K will probably help him out."

OOH, K IS A FUCKING ASSHOLE. GOOD. THIS'LL BE REALLY FUNNY. MAYBE THEY'LL FUCKING KILL HIM AND LET ME EAT H-

"Are you really that fucking hungry, B? So fucking hungry that eating people is the sole thing you can think of?"

I CAN THINK OF A FEW THINGS I'D LIKE TO EAT, YEAH.

The suited woman laughed, affectionately.

"You're fucking disgusting."

The two then settled into a supremely comfortable silence. Well, it was comfortable for them. The blood-drenched man huddled in the trunk of the car, shuddering from his cold wetness, jolted by every bump of the car, too scared to speak or even breathe too loud, was perhaps a little less comfortable in comparison. He closed his eyes tight and waited to wake up from this nightmare.

~~

The trunk opened, and Eddie rolled out onto the concrete driveway, sobbing and stucky with blood. From what, he couldn't even fucking remember. The woman in the suit looked down at him with a sympathetic half-smile. He got a better look at her. She was skinny and pale, with facial features reminiscent of a rodent. He couldn't decide if she was pretty or not, but he was leaning towards not. She had big eyes and thin lips slick with black lipstick, and something wrong with her facial expression. She also had an adams apple, which he felt a tiny bit bad about noticing. She was leaning down to look at him.

"Hey," she said, and her voice was soft. "You're scared, huh? Well, it's okay, okay? My friend Kai is a Channeler, like you are, and they're going to help you learn how this works. Bastet and I are going to go burn down the mall, and then I'll come back around and check on you, okay?"

Kai... where the hell had he heard that name? He couldn't think of it. The woman in the suit was helping him walk to the door now, and she rang the doorbell.

The door opened.

"Fuck my life," Eddie whispered.

He remembered where he knew the name Kai from now. The sole occupant of the house, with their pale skin, and blue hair, and pimply fucking rat face, smiled broadly. "Hi, Luci. Hey Ed."

"Don't fucking call me Ed."

"Nice to see you brought your special metal dildo, Ed. Come on in."

[imjunebitch]

bitches be like, my dread sect is progressive, the gnawing serpent YIG transitioned and uses She/It pronouns now. my sister in Nodens. She still demands virgin blood appeasement.

[imjunebitch]

hey if any of you worship nodens can you check in on him, he's fucking scaring me. he's running around the dream lands with no shirt with a flyswatter, muttering "the thrill of the chase... the thrill of the chase" and trying to swat bugs. im not like that with him so i can't talk to him, can we just get a fucking nodens priest in here? he's scaring everyone

[imjunebitch]

Who the Bitch Am I

i am June! i am a bi trans girl who goes stupid actually. goes absolutely foolhardy. i am also a writer, and i may post some writing here, or maybe on side blogs. i like a lot of shit, including being a hater. i have Bad Fucking Music Taste, which i will impart with tender love and a fullness of sweetness and emotion. chat with me if you like the mountain goats, or the locked tomb!

i am not going to do a DNI! no shade to folks who do that, i get it, but that's bitten me in the ass too many times! anyone can interact, ill just block you if you're mean to me.

im a trans girl who thinks tme/tma shit is harmful to the movement! we are real! if you wanna chat about that civilly, im very willing.

ill tolerate any identity not defined by intolerance or harm! i love you. peace and shit on planet earth!

also um

this is a comic by my friend bottled-beetle! her fallout OC, also named June, talking to me.

ummm !!! it makes me sniffles with teary eyes!!!

if you're ever mean to me this is who you're being mean to. (from baby carrots picrew :3)

sideblogs and helpful tags below read more!!!

my sideblogs are @imjulybitch, and @channelers-series, currently! imjulybitch is a bit im never explaining, and channelers series is my current fun ongoing story. im just reblogging shit there so it's all in one place. however, you can also read all of it by searching the tag channelers series on here! other fun recurring tags here include: june chats, for my unhinged rambling, elder godposting, for memes about the channelers series, and on some stupid shit rn sorry, for my most moronic posts!!!