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whumpitisthen · 1 year ago

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A Lesson in Selfishness

Previous I Masterlist I Next

Rest of cws in tags as usual, but this one deals heavily with dissociation, depersonalisation/derealisation (depending on how you interpret it) and self-hatred, so i thought id put at least that much up here too <3 Mori is not having a good time

By the time Auden finds the door left ajar from his failed escape, he is openly sobbing into his hands in distress. Awful, ear-splitting screams echo down the hall, bouncing off of every ornament, every pillar, disrupting even the humble flickering of flames lighting his way along the walls. Each decibel added grows the mountain of guilt splitting his soul in twain.

He couldn't do anything to help. He was even worse than a failure. He was useless. Powerless to do anything but watch on as they were tortured. Even if they were a creature of Hell, it has become entirely clear that the deer demon was only doing what it was told, and never planned on hurting him at all. They are in a similar situation to him, and all Auden managed to do was bring their tormentor right to them, and cause unnecessary trouble. Cause ruthless, avoidable punishment. His realisation came far too late, and it cost them so much.

Lord, they begged him not to yell.

He hurries past the ornate wooden doors, swiftly pulling them closed behind him with trembling fingers. His body has become awfully pale, blue veins visible through the thin skin of his wrists. It must be yet another side effect or symptom of being mortal, yet another need he does not know how to identify nor meet. It's cold, the dirty nails at the tip of his fingers are turning blue. It only became chillier since the Reaper arrived, sucking the warmth out of everything living with his presence. Auden swears he can still feel Death's touch clear as day — his hold on him is so great that he can feel those black tendrils of rot solidify and take root inside his throat. Those icy fingers left blue marks on his face, little red dots where his claws dug into him, colder still where his silver jewellery touched him.

Perturbation takes him when he thinks of his saviour, his voice murmuring inside Auden’s head. The mocking, the cooing, the promise of pain. That terrifying laughter corrupts his every thought.

Why would he have thought the Grim Reaper to be merciful? Death wasn't fair, Death wasn't kind or protective or caring; Death was ruthless, and efficient, and anywhere from a sudden stopping of the heart to the most painful, agonising, twistedly slow carnage. And even then, even if he was all of those things — why would he act anything like this towards a filthy Fallen? He took Auden to be a gift for someone else, nothing more. He only protects him as long as he is in the deity's care, and who knows what will happen to him once he is given away. He is property, now, and the Reaper will not hesitate to remind him of that. He was lucky enough to be allowed to leave unscathed.

Exhaustion strikes his body at once, leaving him gasping on his knees leaned up against the sturdy door. His soul breaks apart for what could only be the hundredth time since he found himself curled up on that wretched burnt pasture. At every turn, he cannot help fooling himself with even the illusion of choice, the possibility of mercy or the hope of finding anyone who could keep him safe, if not happy. He only experiences burning shame at having been betrayed by Death himself — though it was barely betrayal at all. He should have known all along he was not really saved. He should have known that he does not deserve to even be gazed upon by beings like him.

He found Death's presence to be a necessary evil. Who else could keep someone so helpless like him safe in Hell? His Lord has all but abandoned him, as painful as it is to admit. So, among all these dangerous monsters, who only bring suffering, how fitting is it that the only one who could keep him alive is Death? However menacing, cruel, scary, demanding and even unholy — no one would hurt Auden again as long as he decides to stick around and defend him.

So how stupid must Auden be to police the actions of not only a deity, but the only person on this forsaken planet who can protect him?

‘Downright sacrilegious, isn't it? How devoted you are to your new Lord. To call him a deity, when it is proposed your only God is the one ruling the Heavens. You have truly become a mortal, riddled with sin.’

“Shut up!” — Auden explodes finally at the endless mocking voice plaguing his every waking moment relentlessly. — “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Stop talking to me!”

‘Best you quiet down, mortal. You saw how quick your new God was summoned to your side to punish an innocent creature for you.’

He must be going insane, he is sure. He has begun talking to a voice in his own head. Yelling out in frustration and arguing with it, like some form of cursed soul wandering the scorched Earth endlessly, groaning and moaning to itself constantly. He thought it was his own voice for a while, so used to shame and self-deprecation that he didn't even think it anything else, but now he is certain it's not him. Or is he? He does not know which option seems crazier; that he is arguing with his own thoughts or that he now has another voice inside his already miserable head.

“I don't care, just shut up! Please!” — he sobs, pulling his knees up to his face to hide behind them. He can feel his headache growing the longer he concentrates on the voice. — “I'm not a sinner, I'm not betraying my Lord, I'm not being sacrilegious, I’m, I'm, I-I'm just trying to survive! Pl-Please forgive me, I'm so sorry, I'm s-so sorry, my Lord…”

He devolves into heaving sobs, no longer having enough water to spare for many tears in his body. He continues mumbling to himself, but the voice does not respond. It left him after a job well done, sending him down a spiral and finally acknowledging it. He sits on the floor like this for a while, trying his best to rid himself of all these anxieties, miseries and emotions. Angels really aren't meant to be here for long, and Auden, though not nearly aware of it enough, is quite strong to bear it like this. It's a shame no one will care to remind him.

Three knocks on the door behind him send all his muscles back to attention, tensing them like rubber bands until they burn from exertion like they are about to snap. He had quieted down, nearly falling asleep sitting on the floor as he is, but now he is clambering to stand and move out of the way. It must be the Reaper again, here to remind him how dependent on him he is and how easily this fickle shield he managed to gain can be shattered at the slightest misbehaviour. Or maybe it's his new owner, whoever it is, here to take him and do something like Miss Thu'lin wanted to — maybe it's Miss Thu'lin herself, come to take him back and execute him properly.

He waits, but the handle isn't pushed down, the door doesn't open. A minute passes before four more knocks are heard, a little quieter, more timid. This doesn't seem like anyone he has met so far. The Reaper would just barge in, or even just appear in the room if he wanted. Miss Thu'lin isn't coming back. Could it really be his owner?

He clears his throat, rasping out a similarly timid ‘Hello?’, hoping whoever is on the other side will leave him be, but being too scared of repercussions in case he manages to disrespect someone again to not react anything at all.

To his relief, a familiar, almost forgotten voice answers. — “Hey, uh, hello. I'm here t-, I was sent t-to, uh… I have food. For you.”

Mori. It's just Mori! The deer person, the one who seemed like him!

The one who he left to suffer on their own. Who must have got every bone in their hand broken. The one who screamed themself hoarse from the sounds of it. Who they got in terrible, cruel, agonising trouble. And after it all, they are the one bringing him food.

Through immense, heart wrenching guilt, he dares to feel relief that it's only them. He wishes he could take back all the misfortune he managed to cause to this one, even if they are a Hell being. If only he understood the situation sooner, or even if he just let Death do as he wanted instead of trying to plead for their safety, — seeing as their screams only worsened when Auden was finally made to leave, more frequent, more desperate — he could have so easily helped them. Heavy shame eats at him for letting any of this happen. He feels like a fraud as a Guardian for being the main cause of this.

Though a dizzying cavalcade of negative emotions have latched onto him like a tumour, Auden forbids himself to ever hesitate helping Mori, and banishes the thought of ever, ever resisting what they say is best. The sight of their broken hand under relentless force, their pained face, the kneeling and the whimpering and the begging and the torture must never leave his brain for the rest of his life; a reminder of the consequences of his selfishness.

“O-Oh, oh, I see, I'm sorry.” — The door still does not open, and he struggles to find the right words to say, — “Uhm… Sorry, uh… You can come in. I'm, I'm the only one here.”

Of course he's the only one, who else would be here? Nevertheless, the door finally opens, letting in the abused form of the deer demon awkwardly holding a silver tray of food items, water, cutlery and even a small vase with a single flower in it, and a black candle. They balance it with one unharmed hand, the wrist of the other arm where their hand has been ruined beyond use and their own torso, unsteady on their hooves. What catches Auden's eye before any of that is Mori's antlers — antler.

One of their antlers was snapped off of their head, leaving an open, oozing stump that covers half their face in dark red blood. Their face is harrowed, pale as a sheet, only contrasted by their own ghastly wounds. A sheen of sweat covers them, making them look sickly and frail. Their breathing is just as unsteady as their stance.

Did Death do this? Did Mori lose their antler because of Auden’s idiocy? Auden caused all this?

All previous worries and troubles of his own have been forgotten when Auden laid his eyes on them. Overshadowing his self-pity is a divine need to protect, to fix, to cheer up and hold them forever, to never let them be hurt again. To Guard, like he was always meant to. As Auden stares on in stunned silence, Mori only becomes more nervous. They avert their eyes and eventually ask, — “would, would you, uh… like to eat in bed or shall I set it on, on the table?”

Dear Lord in Heaven have mercy — their voice sounds even worse without the doors to muffle it. Every syllable quivers, some words barely audible as their tone disappears and turns to whispers. All energy, liveliness and personality has been removed, a pile of shattered glass existing where their certainty was before. All that remains of them is a terrified husk, trembling before him like he could just as well tear off their other antler if he wanted.

Auden says the only thing he knows to say, — “I'm so, so, so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I didn't mean for any of this, I just, I just —”

“Please, may, m-may I put this on the table or would you like to eat in bed?” — Mori cuts him off with a huff of air, talking a bit faster. Their limbs are shaking. They avert their eyes towards the floor, swallowing. The glass vase is clinking against a glass of water intermittently. The light of the candle flickers dangerously close to the rose.

For a second, Auden assumes they are mad at him, so mad they don't even want to hear his excuses. He opens his lips to beg a little more for their forgiveness, but then his eyes linger on the awkward position they are in, and all the wounds, and the dark red circles under their eyes — he almost trips over his own feet trying to take the heavy tray filled with all of his food from them. — “Give, give me that. Sorry. Oh, I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I-I swear I'm not usually this dense.”

They gasp out a shaky sigh, relieved to have been freed from their stress position. — “Th-Thank you, sir. I am so grateful.”

Auden doesn't think he has ever been referred to like that before. His sense of smell does not let him chew on that for long, overtaken in such an unbelievable way by the sweet, delicious aroma wafting up to his nose he can barely keep his eyes on Mori. He does not recognise anything on the tray apart from the water. He can only assume that the vase and candle are not meant to be eaten, but he does not know that for sure. It is equally enticing and scary to be so clueless about something so important, because who's to say any of it is edible? What if it's demon food, not human food? Does it matter at all? What if it's poisoned?

His mouth waters excessively the longer he stares at it all, and that worries him as much as his churning guts. A wince snaps him back to attention finally, and Auden forces himself to tear his eyes away from the food to catch the deer flinch from something.

“Uh, I'll, I'll just put this down for now. Thank you.” — The angel hurries over to the table, setting the tray down carefully with the same quivering in his flesh that Mori has. He wants nothing more than to bite down on everything on that tray, to consume it all as fast as possible; a feeling so alien he feels sick and disgusted at himself for needing something in such a wild, animalistic way. He likens his hunger to hellish temptation, but he has never felt temptation as forceful and overwhelming as this. His eyes land on Mori once more, surveying them over and over. How could he ever expect them to forgive him? He has nothing to give, he is nothing at all. All that pain, just because of him. — “I, I-I’m truly sorry. I wish I could change what I did, I really, really do. I was just, I woke up and there was this big room with no one else around and I thought, I, I don't know what I thought but I didn't know that you weren't a threat, I always expect, I always expect to be, to be… hurt, here. And I, I should've listened to you, and obeyed and protected you and, and —”

“Pl-Please, it's… it's fine. It wasn't really your fault, sir. Please do not worry about it,” — they whisper in that broken voice, and there is that title again. This is not Mori, this is not how they were talking to him just an hour or so ago. This feels impersonal, lifeless, a tone reserved for authorities and power; not a lowly little Fallen like him. They are speaking to him like he deserves any respect at all.

They're talking to him like they were talking to their master.

“B-But, but I, I yelled for the Reaper, I called for his attention, I got you hurt —”

“Master Grim does not need a reason to hurt me.” — Mori states, following a line between two floorboards with their eyes with a melancholic expression. Their still working fingers dig into the grey fabric of their rugged potato sack of a tunic. They sound like how Auden sounds as he prays — almost in a trance, with a light tone and monotonous syllables, like they are recounting the same line they have repeated over and over again countless times before, — “I am his. I belong to him, and he is free to do as he pleases with my body and with my soul. If… If he wants to hurt me, and to, to t-torment me like this, he can, and he will, and he needs no further reasoning than that. I deserve it anyway.”

A horrid chill runs down Auden's spine as he listens to the most harmless looking creature he has ever seen parrot the words they must have been taught by their cruel master. Their very wording is so twistedly familiar to Auden, yet so alien — Auden feels devoted to his Lord, and willingly gives his everything to Him, while Mori was only forced to serve another, and bullied into the ground until they knelt and learned how to please him best. In the end, pure worship and devotion looks quite similar to fear of punishment, dependency and this forcefully taught ‘right’ behaviour. And the way to please Death is apparently to offer your body to be tormented for sadistic pleasure.

‘I don't see much of a difference. Devotion and control, punishment and mercy. Dependence, fear, worship. You and your Lord are much the same, however you twist it.’

Auden does not even entertain the voice. A huff of air leaves him, a wave of what could only be what his people call temptation. Sacrilegious thoughts cross his brain, but he never even thinks to come back with an argument. Not while in the vicinity of someone who needs his help. However, he also does not at all know how to respond to Mori's statement. Anything his mind comes up with sounds just so utterly hypocritical and hopeless. Subservience is the life of angels; what advice could he give to this poor creature who is forced to forget themself entirely in favour of pleasing a merciless overlord of the dead.

In the end, the blue silence is broken by Mori. — “I-I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir, please forgive me. Please help yourself to dinner. I hope it is to your, your liking. You must be famished.”

“I-I, wait —!” — Auden stutters, watching Mori walk past him and kneel next to the long dinner table with little grace, closing their eyes and tilting their head down in submission. They must be waiting for Auden to finish his food so they can take the tray and leave. While the situation is ever more unnerving, the angel simply doesn't know how to make it better. He lets out a long sigh, and walks over to one of the armchairs positioned at the end of the table, settling in it. His shoulders remain tense, but he is slowly unwinding, feeling safer every second the Reaper is away, and Mori is unharmed. He tries to ignore the awful, unbefitting position of having someone kneel next to him while he lounges around on a plush cushion with warm food, but he fails so quickly he almost slides right off the silky material to kneel next to Mori, if only the table wasn't so high to not allow him to reach it kneeling. Instead, before he takes a single bite, he clears his throat.

“Uh, um… you, you don't have to keep kneeling. There's more than enough chairs, you can, you can sit with me!” — Mori looks up at him, almost confused, before they turn their gaze right back down. Auden can see their shoulders have tensed up.

“Yes, sir,” — they say quietly, getting their hooves under them to limp their way over to the closest chair, sitting down next to Auden. They somehow look even less comfortable. They look so small in that tall backed plush chair, only making themself smaller as they hunch over, keeping their eyes trained on their legs bouncing under the wooden surface.

Mori took his question as an order, not as a simple offer.

Auden finds it harder and harder to focus on anything but the delicacies taunting him under his nose. His fingers twitch to reach, his mouth is drowning him. It hurts to deprive himself like this, it hurts so much more than he thought it was possible. It scares him, how swiftly he would turn into a wild thing, hitting and screaming and biting at anyone just for a single bite. He already has trouble just keeping himself in check, his hunger outweighing his guilt and exhaustion by a tonne, even with Mori in the same room. Falling has made him endlessly pathetic, leaving a hole inside him that only grows with each day, swallowing his worried little heart and any remaining grace he possessed as an angel.

The only thing stopping him from lifting the whole tray and slamming his face into it as fast as possible is a lack of knowledge — he must ask, however embarrassing it is that he has to; — “This, um… Is this edible?”

“Of course, sir.”

“C-, can I uh… can I eat this? All of it?”

“Yes, sir. It is yours.”

Tilting his head this way and that, he makes the decision to reach out towards one of the bowls. It has small green balls in it. A fruit? Looks plant-like, smells of nature and sweetness. They are connected by a dark branch. He takes hold of one, tearing it from the branch. It's just a little bouncy, soft orb. It smells divine.

Finally, he pops it in his mouth, his teeth demolishing it before he could observe it any further in instinct. It splits into wet chunks of cool, sweet, satisfying grape flesh. Such immense flavour, such incredible satisfaction! He tears up as he reaches for more, tearing more and more off and consuming them faster and faster, forgetting about decency and worries entirely. He shoves too much in his mouth at once and whimpers in delight and pain, not even caring as he chokes on the succulent juices flowing down the wrong pipe.

He could kill for this. He will kill for this, he's certain. This is the best feeling he has ever felt. Animalistic instincts be damned, he is ecstatic.

Mori’s attention is suddenly revived, a look of concern crossing their face as they see the angel suffocating himself in fruit. They hesitate, but make an executive decision in the end, standing and taking hold of Auden's wrists gently, but firmly. — “Sir, s-sir! Sir, please slow down! You shouldn't — I, I mean there is no need to hurry!”

Auden is crying tears of joy, hunched over, concentrating on swallowing the large mouthful he stuffed into himself. Sniffles and whines escape him as he slowly recognises Mori and the irritation of his poor throat. He gives a worried sound, signalling to Mori for help, so confused and scared on what to do now that he realised what he has done. Mori looks at him with purpose, a look that knows, a gentle hand holding Auden still on his shoulder.

“Just, just concentrate on chewing, yeah? It's okay, it'll pass, just chew and swallow when you can.” — Relaxing motions on his back from the palm warming him, going in slow circles. He finds unpopped grapes on his tongue, and slowly but surely works on munching them up into a smaller ball, swallowing bit by bit. His lungs lurch from the liquid trapped there, but soon enough, he finds the rhythm of his breaths again. — “That's, that's good. Well done.”

“Thank, th-thank you… so much. Thank you for helping me.” — His expression shows immense shame. Even after everything, Mori would still help him. He needs help just to eat… There is no one in the world who is any more pitiful than him, be reckons. He feels like less than nothing, like the most useless, disposable fool.

To Auden's surprise, a small, sad smile crosses Mori's face. — “Well, I, I guess I… have had similar experiences. I know how it feels to, to be allowed to eat after starvation. I'm, uh, I just had to help.”

Once Auden is feeling better, Mori helps him choose something else from the pallette. With their guidance, Auden discovers so many wondrous flavours he never knew before, finally satisfying his always churning stomach in a way he never knew was going to be possible. Different small bowls with different things he doesn't recognise, all filled with goodness. Some of them Mori names as they lift for him, like the cheese bowl. He isn't sure what a cheese is, but it tastes savoury and sometimes light, and it's easy and creamy and flows and melts and he is so glad Mori stops him before he could become too excited again and let the melted cheese stick to the inside of his throat.

After a few bowls of snacks, Mori suggests the main dish. Auden cannot even begin to guess what it is, or how to go about eating it. Something red-brown, warm, smells the strongest. It's soaked in something that resembles the thickness of blood, but when he asks about it, Mori is quick to reassure him it is only a sweet ‘sauce’.

With an optimistic thought, he lifts both hands and digs into the sticky sauce coating the ribs, lifting the whole thing to his mouth, managing to take a bite out of it. While the taste is immaculate, as he lets it rest against the plate while he chews, he notices Mori's puzzled eyes staring at him as if he grew another head.

His chewing slows, then stops and he swallows. He must have done something wrong, but isn't certain what. Mori does not really make it easier to understand.

He has sauce all over his… everything.

“Uh, I um… I did bring utensils.”

When Auden remained silent, looking back to the massive piece of meat and then to Mori, they grow nervous, clarifying immediately, — “b-b-but, it is not my place to tell you how to eat, sir. Please, pro-proceed as you wish. I was just… offering.”

When Auden still doesn't say anything, they revert completely to their submissive servant mode, hunching over and averting their gaze, only whispering a bare, fearful apology.

Now it's Auden's turn to worry, dropping the whole thing back on the plate to raise his hands in surrender, accidentally causing the poor deer to flinch. — “No, n-no, I'm, I'm not angry! I swear. I just, I'm… wh-what is a, a u-ten-sils?”

The red magma of embarrassment in his face is worth it when Mori dares to return his look of general worry and lack of understanding. — “What? Wha-What do you mean, sir?”

“I-I…” — he shakes his head, finally gathering the courage to admit, — “I-I don't… don't really know what, what that means… I've… This is the first time I've ever, uh… ever eaten anything. I know, it sounds stupid but, b-but… sorry, this is so dumb. I sound like an idiot.”

Mori only becomes more worried, downright concerned at that. — “You — What? This is the first time you've been allowed to eat? In your whole life?”

“W-Well, I mean, yes, but —”

“How are you still alive? Were you cursed?” — Mori questions, entirely forgetting their taught manners again. They sound fascinated, amazed, yet terribly confused and apologetic at the same time.

Cursed is more accurate than he will ever admit to himself the longer he spends indulging in earthly delicacies after so long of a lack of need for them. However, — “no, not cursed. I'm… I'm, I'm a Fallen. I didn't need to until now, that's all.”

“Oh… I see.”

An awkward silence arises again, and this time Auden is aware enough to break it himself.

“Your name is um… You're Mori, right? That's what, what your master called you? — he questions. Mori nods. — “My name is Auden. You don't need to keep calling me sir.”

Mori flinches again, remembering their manners. — “Yes, Master Auden. I apologise.”

Well, that's even worse.

“No, just Auden is fine!” — he says much too quickly, loudly, making sure he speaks as clearly as possible. His name sounds awful in that context. — “Please, you, you don't have to refer to me by any title. I'm a nobody, always have been, and I am one especially now. You, you don't have to… I'm not a Master of anything. Certainly not you.”

A second passes. Then another. Mori doesn't say anything. — “Isn’t, isn't that what you said to me too? That we're the same? I'm, I'm nothing like… like th-the Reaper. Please don't think I am anything like him. I'm so, so sorry if I made you think I was going to hurt you again. I'm not. Not ever. I am truly, terribly sorry.”

“… You didn't do anything wrong.” — Mori answers vaguely. Their ears never move from their flat state, looking limp and sad hanging from their head. Their arms snake around themself, twitching every once in a while, a distant look in their eyes. They must be reliving their recent tormenting, Auden thinks. The angel can only curse himself for being this inconsiderate, — of course they don't want to talk about it. It's still so fresh in their mind, it must not have been that long at all; a couple hours at most since he left. The blood has not even stopped flowing from their stump. — “And, uh, utensils are the silver stuff in front of you. Those three weird, slim shapes. You use them instead of your hands, so you don't, don't get dirty. You do not need to use them, of course. I'm sorry for not explaining sooner, si — Auden.”

The angel sighs, glancing back to his tray. Now that he isn't starving, he almost wants to leave the rest as a form of self punishment for being the way he is. He does not deserve it, not at all. If anyone, Mori does. They are so incredibly patient with him; another thing he does not deserve. They help him, and calm him, and ground him, and protect him — while he failed to do anything at all. Auden finds the utensils, grabbing onto the alien looking things. A round one, a pointy one, and a small blade. Just as confusing as everything else seems to be. He has seen these before, and recognises them as something humans always held in their hands when they ate. The small quadruple pointed trident was to stick into things and put in his mouth, he thinks. The blade must be for cutting, that much is clear. What the hell do you do with the round paddle?

“Um… Mori, I, uh, I don't really…”

Mori is already up from their chair. They quickly figure out his issue, moving to help. — “Oh, sorry… O-Of course, I'm sorry, I can help.”

As Mori explains, and finally gives back the ‘fork and spoon’, Auden already knows he will not eat a single bite more. He manages, after about twenty seconds, to pull a strip of meat off of the bones forcefully, sticking it on the end of the fork. He holds it like a child, gripping it tight in his fist. Mori tells him he did well, but he doesn't believe them.

“That's pretty much it. You did well. I'm glad I could help.” — They turn to skulk back to their seat without another word, only stopped by Auden grabbing onto them to stop them. Their eyes widen, tense and frightened already despite how non-threatening Auden has been the entire time.

“Would you like to have some of it?” — he asks, holding the fork proudly. They don't even hesitate to think before they decline, — “No, I can't, it is not mine. Th-Thank you.”

They try to pull against Auden's hand, but it doesn't budge. Auden doesn't notice their breathing quicken. — “Come on, for me? I, I can't just sit here and not share. Especially now… I saw how you were looking at the food. You're hungry too, aren't you?”

Their flickering eyes were too noticeable. Auden picked up on it, and now he offers food, and Mori will have to decline and risk disappointing Auden, or accept and be caught by Master Grim later for another round of punishment. They can't choose, they can't choose! How are they meant to do as they are told when their orders clash? It's not theirs, but they are starving, and it smells better than delicious, and Master Auden is offering so it must be fine — but it's meat, they don't like meat. Is it punishment? Master Auden wants to punish them, and then Master Grim will definitely punish them for taking it at all and, and —

“I, I, I-I am not hungry, sir. Thank you.” — Auden doesn't let up, not until it's too late, not until Mori is gasping and shivering and crying all over again, legs buckling under them, — “Please —”

Before Auden could understand, Mori has torn themself away from him with great force, almost falling over one of the chairs, letting it fall to the ground with a loud bang. That seems to only send them deeper into panic, clutching at their chest and hair. They back away from the angel until their back hits the wall, covering their eyes and trying their best to remember how to breathe.

“Mori! Oh heavens, Mori, I didn't mean to! Oh no, oh please —”

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” — is all that comes as an answer, Mori repeating that one phrase as if that's the one phrase they have ever known. They are crying, curling into themself. At the smallest movements from Auden they jerk like they heard a gunshot.

Through the gasping panic, their meltdown seems to suddenly thin, unnaturally quickly. As fast as they descended into complete horror, they now seem to stop breathing all together. Auden watches as Mori twitches up to the side, as if grabbed onto, hands falling away from their eyes to stare upwards at the ceiling, locking onto an invisible pair of eyes. A violent chill runs down Auden's spine, his heart filling with the familiar pressure of magic bringing mortal fear. A tendril of smoke grips Mori's neck, and a whisper inaudible to the angel coos at his helpless deer friend, forcing them to relax.

It's all gone before Auden could even comprehend what had happened, dropping Mori to their knees and disappearing entirely. Silently, they lift a hand to their throat to feel the leftover marks of icy claws that held them.

Auden is already on them, terrified, not daring to touch them at all in case it happens again. — “Mori, Mori, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay, please, please, you have to be — I messed up again. I'm so sorry, I messed up again —”

Blinking slowly, swallowing thickly, Mori returns to Auden. It takes only a few seconds for their eyes to find him, utterly devastated and near tears again, expecting the worst, and then even worse. He cautiously hopes they are okay when he sees them come aware again.

“Mori? Mori, it's me. I'm so sorry. Please, are you alright?“

They nod. They look… haunted. Their eyes are wider than ever, but their face is almost slack. Never before have they resembled a lost child like this. They look like they would shatter if the rain touched them. They nod, finally, answering one of Auden’s torrent of questions.

“Oh thank the Lord, I was so worried. What happened, do you know? I just touched you and then I scared you and then I thought the Reaper was here again, but he wasn't, or he's already gone, and you looked so scared and I was so scared and, and, I'm so so sorry, I'm so stupid —”

“What happened?” — Mori whispers, falling right back into the fragile voice of a ghost.

“Yes, yes, I'm not sure, do you know?”— Auden confesses, wanting to help so badly, but not until he knows he won't make things worse. He cares so much, and yet he keeps messing up, and he needs to learn he can't ever just run into whatever problem and expect a straightforward fix. He is in an illogical world, one he doesn't understand, and one that always has something worse in store for its denizens.

Mori stands abruptly, as if nothing had happened. Auden stands too, questioning Mori again. Mori turns to him, pauses, and only then answers. — “Nothing happened. Master Grim came to tell me I am allowed to eat with you, Master Auden. Thank you for granting me some of your food. I will be forever grateful for this mercy.”

Death visited them, just now. Not a stutter, not a pause — just like a robot. Are they brainwashed? Possessed? No, this is simply how they are. Still the same Mori, but under the constant threat of horrible, unimaginable consequences. This is normal for everyone here except Auden. This is fine. They are all tested and punished and stressed and stretched until they break and find the path of least resistance, the path of the least pain.

And for Mori, according to the Reaper, that path is complete, mindless submission. That is how they defend themself. That's how they survive.

Mori turns and sits at the table without another word, quivering all over. They do not touch anything until Auden follows, and once they are both sitting, Mori stares at Auden like he doesn't exist, and waits to be fed. It's eerie, how calm they have gotten. They shiver and fear as always, but they are like putty moulding into whatever shape Death wants them to be in the moment.

With great hesitance, Auden offers the fork to Mori again. Mori leans down and takes the bite instead of taking the fork in their hand, chewing and swallowing efficiently. They straighten once they swallow, continuing to stare in silence. Their breaths shiver, their flesh twitches, their limbs are wound as tight around their body as possible. They are far from relaxed, yet they never even give a whine of displeasure. Perfect obedience without a word. How they truly feel is irrelevant — all that matters is pleasing their Master.

The angel swears over and over again, both to himself and Mori, that he will protect them. That he won't hurt them again. That they don't need to be scared around him. And every time he has dared to even try helping, it has ended in catastrophe. It's like the Devil himself is punishing him for his decency and kindness. It's like all he touches becomes rotten and dead.

He simply continues feeding Mori in silence, his hunger having completely left him. He says nothing more, knowing Mori is barely even themself right now — they are the most bare bones version of themself that only knows how to please their Master. And they consider Auden one of their Masters.

They might calm down enough to dare being their true self after a certain amount of time has passed, once they find a safe place to exist in for just a minute — but for now, all Auden can do is make sure they eat as much as they want. He will have to make sure to ask when they are full, in case they just keep eating and eating for as long as Auden offers. They think they are nothing but property, right now. A thing. Something to use, abuse, and then throw away. Barely alive.

Auden will be here to remind them they are more than that, once they can truly hear him again. He will remain with them, and he will show the same endless patience they have shown him, and he will do his absolute best to comfort them once they are allowed to feel like a person again. Once they return to him, and regain that shine in their tired eyes that glows with purpose and life. He will be here for them.

Even if his saviour tries to interfere.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-me-all-night-long

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roadkill-raccoons · 2 years ago

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What's wukongs and mks relationship in your AU exactly? Did Wukong really just find mk with his stick and thought huh I'll follow him ig or did he meet him right away? Did he like mk at first? How did his stick get lost in the first place? What's his and macaques relationship do they ever encounter each other? If the trio(mk, macaque, Wukong) were in the same place at the same time what would happen? Does red son exist? Why did Wukong abandon his staff? What about the other gods like nezha etc?

Oof sorry about the many questions but you did say we could ask- ofc no need to answer all of them

ThiS IS ABSOLUTELY OK >:3

wukong didn’t meat Mk until he ended up on flower fruit mountain by boat. Sun wukong didn’t know who Mk was or anything about the apocalypse, when most of the demon issues calmed down and more humans against humans started rising he decided to just take a break. He set the staff down in a forest, on a grave, macaques grave :>.

He followed Mk back to the city because Mk begged him to help get rid of the monster in the land. Wukong does encounter macaque (if its wukong you mean) but all macaque does is brush him off like nothing mattered, which left wukong mildly annoyed that he wasn’t angry and/or that macaque didn’t tell him he was alive. Something is very much wrong with macaque

(Id liked to think that the other gods in heavens are cut off from the mortal realm due the apocalypse)

Red song exists in a small city built by his parents, he has mei with him too, the city is a bit far from the one Mk lives in and is surrounded by massive electrical walls.

I’d like to add nezha but my mind blanks out with him.

The apocalypse was caused by humans, but a demon took advantage of it.

(Hopefully this all makes sense, i have a habit to type the way i speak.)

#i actually have a mei design #ive been meaning to do a redson design but I’ve been kinda busy with other stuff #peachblood au

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belabellissima · 2 months ago

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ok how powerful is that uno reverse card? are you in MY walls because i literally have legendborn out from the library rn!!!! (haven't started it yet though)

My faves are Gone Girl, Weather Girl, (wait, is my type just books called {adjective} girl?????), Burn for Me, and Slippery Creatures. And more for nostalgia reasons, The Blonde Identity (the Gallagher Girls who get it, get it)

Another question for you! fuck, marry, kill, play monopoly with (assume everyone is hot): sea monster, demon, pro player of the sport of you choice, and mafioso

💝💝💝 secret santa 💝💝💝

SANTA!!! That uno reverse was powerful indeed!!! Legendborn already on your shelf??? And supporting your library!??😍 😩 I’m so excited for you to read it! I will demand politely request your live reactions.

I’ve had Gone Girl on my tbr for years and haven’t gotten around to it yet, but for you I’ll read it soon<3 I did read her short story The Grownup a few years ago and loved it though!!!

As for fmkm:

Fuck: demon 😈

Marry: sea monster - I once wrote the beginnings of a mermaid trilogy and I’ll never get over that

Kill: mafioso - they’re just there lol

Monopoly - sports player Allison Reynolds (who is fictional😔 bc idk any real players lmao) bc my girl is hot id happily go to straight jail for her

#secret santa 2024 #IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #I forgot I had it in drafts for post work editing 💀

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onlyplatonicirl · 1 year ago

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i the headcANON am greately pleased by your last correspondence with the council, as such like a magpie we are leaving shiny trinkets within your inbox, but nay these are not pennies or stolen rings, they are things we completely and totally made up! todays galavant into the realm of our collective soup of a mind is the one and only blorbo, our poor little meow meow, our Beko LSP3671DW Tall Fridge - White, our soggiest webkinz whom we like throw against the wall to hear the sound of its milk-drenched body 'thwap' against the wall... gradient <3

for some ungodly reason this little shit means the world to me, i have had such a dedicated connection to this asshole since about 2016 thats its boderline religious at this point, oh also have whilst we're at it, i'll throw in some general gracey headcanons too

really lives video games, probably because its what he spends almost all of his time doing, id imagine his favourite games would be somewhat grounded life-sims (games like stardew valley or minecraft), if you are a monster who knows literal gods and has technology which can teleport you at the tips of your fingers, the fantasy and sci-fi genre probably doesnt appeal to you all that much, its just everyday life

however, he also canonically likes shooters, and imo his favourite is splatoon because funny little squid people

loves anime and manga, probably really likes chainsaw man, neon genesis evangelion, and serial experiments lain

watched nge for the first time, saw rei and fell to his knees screaming she me, shes literally me

has slowly been getting casey into anime and manga, originally didnt want to because thats 'weeb shit innit?' but he watched chainsaw man and fell in love

so under a rock its not even funny, he doesnt know anyone outside of his family or some of the high-ranking council members. paperjam will off-handedly mention a popular celebrity in the omega timeline and he will have absolutely zero clue who that is. he probably knows more about human celebrities from earth, mainly footabllers - casey's doing obviously

has a neutral accent, by that i mean, he does not sound as though he is from anywhere, his voice is flat and montone (a combination of living in the middle of nowhere and autism lol) with no vocal fry or twang to speak of, however since living with casey he has begun picking up british slang and an ever so slight brummie accent

i dont know why but i get the impression his room isnt actually all that big, longer than it is wider, ink wouldve given him a bigger room but he asked for a smaller one because wide spaces make him anxious

gender? i hardly know her. refuses to elaborate on what his gender is, just tells a joke every time hes asked. additionally, i dont think he cares what pronouns people use for him. hes whatever gender makes the bit the funniest. when casey asked, he replied whatever gender liking me makes you gay as hell

when casey told him about how he pieced together his laptop from scrapped and stolen parts he became fascinated with it and began helping him upgrade it. now they own a pc which is top of the range but looks like the aftermath of a shrapnel bomb, gradient considers it his pride and joy

has errors lack of taste and willingness to eat anything, combined with inks general lack of taste and culinary knowledge. bro is eating packet noodles and chicken nuggets every day. casey once tried to cook breakfast, he made scrambled eggs but completely charred the eggs and he ate it anyways because it was a nice gesture. i think he can actually cook quite well though, he just cant be arsed too and the microwave is so much less effort

simultaneously think he has a really high tolerance for alcohol, if not just completely unaffected by him, or he has zero tolerance whatsoever

really interested in humans and their biology and anatomy. likes to go up to casey and squeeze his nose or poke his cheeks. has once, when watching a movie with him, spent about ten minutes just playing with his arm and wrist just watching and feeling the skin stretch and squish over his radius and ulna

secretly studies anatomy using casey

i like to imagine he is a genetic freak, sure gaster got the majority of his dna from ink and error, but he had to improvise certain parts, and others he simply added to really make his bioweapon pop yknow? he has retractable fangs and his teeth and eyes glow in the dark. hes like an alternate, his body doesnt work like how its supposed to, in cases this means he is flexible, too flexible, his jaw can extend further than it should, but in others it means his body craps out and is really susceptible to certain things like carpal tunnel syndrome or some form of skeleton-monster-thing chronic illness

cannot stand his reflection because he looks like error, none of the bathrooms on the floor his bedroom is on have mirrors, they did at one point but after having punched one in panic ink got rid of them all. this only became worse after the tERROR incident

really needs to see a therapist, he hates relying on casey because he feels as though hes putting all of his problems on him. goes through moods where he doesnt tell casey any of his worries and puts on a pretend happy front, whilst they dont argue a lot this is usually when they do argue because casey doesnt like gradient keeping his feelings secret, and bottling up his feelings only ends up making gradient stressed and snappy

okay so i know we usually play armchair psycologist and just claim every one in the undertale extended universe is autistic, but i need you to hear me out on this one, this little fucker is so unbelievably autistic its insane, error and by extension any glitched weirdo is already so autismcoded, generally cant stand touch/intimacy, like to be alone, difficulties expressing emotions especially empathy, flat affect or displaying inappropriate responses or facial expressions, but on top of all that hes also got a limited group of friends (especially in tcoti lmaoo) and interests, acts somewhat childish despite his age, and is a complete and total shut-in. yes these things could be explained away by other things such as him having anxiety about leaving the house due to incidents but the way he goes on about it is so incredibly relatable to me, someone with autism, he cannot simply just avoid certain situations, no he has to completely and totally avoid any and all social interaction he cant control and script beforehand, which in and of itself is black and white thinking

also gracey is literally just autism x adhd

despite literally being together they both call each other gay like school kids, one will go in for a hug and the other calls them gaylord. to combat this they started preemptively saying 'no homo'

would absolutely get married for the bit

- headcANON, i feel like i have more to say, but everyt thought has left our brain

I AM EATING SO WELL RIGHT NOW I FEEL LIKE IVE JUST BEEN GIVEN A FIVE COURSE MEAL

Gradient is literally my soggy bread I left in the sink after being done with my breakfast. I LOVE THESE HEADCANONS TIME TO TALK ABOUT THEM!!

- You’re so right abt the video games thing. Also he does like shooters a lot because of how much concentration it takes - they’re very engaging to him. Plus getting on voice calls with strangers is nice, especially if they have no idea who he is. It’s nice to laugh with other people.

- definitely likes anime, definitely is converting Casey. He thinks Casey’s sitcoms are dumb but watches them anyways because he likes how much his friend likes them.

- He is absolutely under a rock and keeps up with nothing. He may be terminally online but he does not keep up with the news of the Omega Timeline at all. He knows a decent amount of the higher-ranking council because he’s met a lot of them in person, and he used to go their for schooling, but he doesn’t like most of them. For obvious reasons.

- if I had to voice claim Gray I’d say something close to Leonardo from TMNT Mutant Mayhem. But without the New York accent.

- his room is large for a bedroom but still pretty condensed.

- (to me personally) he is like. A Boy but in the most nonbinary way possible.

- He’s pretty good with technology, but Casey managed to completely blow his mind. This kid was pulling apart a shitty laptop and putting it back together to get it to run. If they built a PC together it would be 100% function and 0% form.

- don’t tell me he wouldn’t spend like 20 minutes just staring at Casey’s ears.

- He is 100% a genetic little freak of nature and I love all of those headcanons. You did mention Gaster though, which I thought was interesting - Gradient’s canon story is “he was created by a bored Gaster in the void because combo funny heehee”. But seeing as I have removed all of the fourth wall breaking aspects as well as emphasized that Gradient was originally built to be a bioweapon, most of his backstory has changed, including his creator. Gradient’s creation, why he was created, and by whom is a very important part of the story that I am telling :)

- He has a mirror in his bathroom but he doesn’t look at it unless he has to. He did crack it once in the aftermath of a massive panic attack, but Ink was able to fix it. Gradient doesn’t like looking at himself but sometimes he needs to if he’s doing hygiene things.

- I don’t think there’s ever been anyone that needs to see a therapist more than Gradient and Casey

- Autism

- you are probably on my discord server because there was a massive conversation about how they would absolutely get married and just make it the most insufferable and worst wedding ever known to man (on purpose)

#ask lorel #anon #tcoti #gradient sans #gracey

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painful-pooch · 2 years ago

Text

Stabmas Celebration - Cas

Thank you to those in the Slices of Whump server celebrating Stabmas (The Ides of March) with me! I have 2 more fics for later, but have a Cassiel write!

CW: Homeless Whumpee, STABBBBBBBB, Sad Stuff, Fantastic Racism Mention, Knife Violence, a Hint of Gore, and Shape-Shifter Whumpee

Tagging the Squad: @emcscared-whumps, @noirineverysense, @ocean-blue-whump, @inscrutable-shadow, @actress4him, @crash-bump-bring-the-whump, @pigeonwhumps, @technom0ose, and @shapeshiftersandfire!!

Enjoy <3

It was like any normal day for Cassiel, the city life bustling around him, from the construction sites in the distance to the rumbling of cars in a constant state of traffic and seeing a never ending surge of pedestrians trying to make it to work. The combination of all the sounds gave way to a splash of multiple colors that had no real harmony, but he could see why it was something to behold; it was a symbol of a well-oiled machine, each person controlling only one part of a far grander system.

Only problem for him was that he didn’t know where he belonged in it all. He knew how to play a guitar to earn money for scraps, but beyond that, there wasn’t anything he could add to the city.

He watched on as the day turned to night and people returned to their homes while he remained outside in the cold like any average day. He set his guitar back in the case that Liam, the music shop owner, had given him, smiling as he saw that he made enough money to afford some pancakes and maybe a nice bit of protein at a local diner.

Nighttime was a little tense for him, considering he would always have to watch out for any of the Specialized Enforcement patrols that took place in the shadows, hunting for shifters. It wasn’t easy hiding from them, but he’s somehow made it through unscathed, especially considering he was a Dire Wolf shifter, and they were extinct for a long time. Or so they had thought until Cassiel was arrested.

Even though he was alone, he would sometimes lend the Beast an ear, hoping that one day, the monster that lived inside of him would no longer shed blood. Someone had to hope for the sake of the Beast.

He finally made it to the right district of the town where the diner would be, smiling to himself as he headed down the sidewalk. That was until he heard the faint sounds of a person in pain, which made him stop in his tracks, tilting his head and looking down the dimly lit street of abandoned tenements. “Oi, is anyone down there?” He called out, warily approaching one of the boarded-up doors.

“In here, man! I think I busted up my leg,” a man responded, the voice showing up as a bright teal color. Cas looked around and then at the board, wondering if it’s a trap.

Of course it’s a trap, you fucking moron, but what would I know? It’s not like I feed off of this sort of thing. Go on ahead and play ‘hero’. I am sure they are going to give you loads of hugs for it.

That’s all Cas needed to bust down the board, leaving his guitar inside of the derelict building, his eyes still adjusting to the dark. “Where are ye, lad?” He asked, taking small, calculated steps down the hallway, walking past a few doors.

“Right here.”

Cas didn’t have a chance to react, a sharp pain in his side forcing him to pull away and press his back to the wall. His eyes caught the sight of three men, one of them placing an arm across Cas’ neck and another sharp pain in the center of his stomach, his cries cut off.

“No need to be scared, buddy. We just want to take your stuff and leave. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Where’s your wallet?” His voice, still a bright teal, reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. His other hand was out of sight, but Cas knew it was most likely related to the pain in his stomach.

Wonderful. Just wonderful, boy. You’ve been stabbed. You won’t even defend yourself if you had the chance. Let me take over.

He couldn’t let the Beast win, but he felt himself getting dizzy from the agony of his injuries, tears in his eyes. The man in front of him growled and mumbled something Cas didn’t quite catch, but a powerful force made him fall to the floor with a thud, his head cracking against the wooden floor.

“Where’s your fucking wallet, low-life?!” A new voice screamed at him, placing a boot over where the initial pain was. This voice was a dim orange, but he couldn’t focus too much on it, his eyes were stuck on the blade sticking out of his stomach, which the woman casually ripped out, making Cas cry out in response.

“I d-don’t have one, lad. I swear. Me only p-possession is me guitar,” he responded, holding the woman’ ankle in a faint attempt to make the weight on his injury less. “I’m not l-lyin!” His lips trembled in fear and he saw the man who originally called for him and another man, far older than the first, conversing with each other. The older man brandished a dagger. Not any dagger, but the one that the Specialized Enforcement agents were selling to civilians to ward off shifters.

“No money means we can’t let you live, little guy,” the older man gruffly chuckled with a splash of daffodil yellow, taking a few steps towards Cas. “Any last words?”

Let go. Give in to me, and you’ll make it out. You won’t even remember a thing.

Cas started to tear up and he shut his eyes tightly, mumbling to himself and gritting his teeth when the woman dug her heels into his stab wound. “P-please don’t do dis… I don’t want it to hurt ye all.” He opened his eyes to see red beginning to take over the edge of his vision.

The older man held the blade right at Cas’ neck.

This is your final warning. GIVE IN NOW!

“I’m sorry…”

Before the red completely took over his vision, he saw the fear in the older man’s eye when Cas’ wolf jaw clamped over his arm with an audible snap.

…

Cassiel opened his eyes, glancing around for a moment to make out where he’s at. He was under a bridge in the city park, and he winced when he moved, seeing his shirt and his pants covered in blood, as well as his hands. “Is… is dis m-“

Part of it. It got messy towards the end because you were stabbed in the side and abdomen. Luckily I helped make sure you healed fast enough. Those three people won’t be a problem anymore though.

Tears blurred his vision again and he covered his face with his blood ridden hands, apologizing to yet another three souls who encountered the Beast.

#cassiel belanger #izzy writes #Homeless Whumpee #STABBBBBBBB #Sad Stuff #Fantastic Racism Mention #Knife Violence #a Hint of Gore #and Shape-Shifter Whumpee #STABMAS

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thecreditsroll · 6 months ago

Text

Not 30 but I still wanted to do this

I live like I'm 30 might as well be 30

Spiritually 30

1 office chair

2 all

3 normal it's cheaper

4 dishes ( literally my excuse to get wet and play touch stuff very fun)

5 pest removal don't like dead things or messes also feel a little bad killing them and that's usually what I have to do to get them out

6 my heart when they died

7 cheap sponges

8 paper towels for scrubbing works on most surfaces

9 storytelling/narrativation

10 mostly YouTube I don't watch very much tv

11 I have a habit of buying little overpriced treats instead of saving the cash for something better

12 I refuse to use cups

13 the lawnmower the air conditioner literally everything

14 at least once a day if I still have the energy

15 I move around like a headless chicken because stores suck

16 rain won't stop me

17 been watching studio Ghibli films because I've never seen them before Really liked howls moving castle it reminded me of my grandma

18 they're fine but they can be frustrating sometimes

19 🦆

20 ice meat ice meat meat in ice

21 I was a baby

22 family dollar because they tend to be low energy and chill

23 plastic or whatevers handy

24 no

25 reading a book in my rocking chair on the porch

26 tea, beer sucks

27 movie night is every night

28 babies are ugly in photos but adorable in person

29 no time for holiday cards

30 5

31 I never want to own a car

32 MONSTER

33 transformers, I made a promise as a kid that I'll get every single fucking character and WILL

34 pleasant bike ride

35 alcohol don't care for it

36 yep barely

37 literally

38 air conditioner

39 a red bull to get me through the day 😔

40 always a list I hate going in without a plan

41 some old paperwork from the 1700s or some shit great grandma kept it sealed in this briefcase its just some old shipping notes from dockworkers nothing special

42 a dryer ☹️

43 The Prophet Margin

44 not my thing

45 art

46 trying not to put stuff on there anymore it's too chaotic

47 lamps all the overhead lights broke years ago

48 I'd just rebuild the same house with proper foundation sick of the cracks in the walls

49 used to

50 I need a diverse range of pillows

51 zero way too hot

52 yes tremendously so

53 DMV SS office is nice actually

54 id like to get festive once life gets better

55 applesauce cake the proper way my grandma used to make it

56 teriyaki noodles

57 Drinks

58 those big hiking bags

59 yeah I look fairly decent even now

60 they're fine

61 not anymore

62 I don't like having too many things

The more things you have the more responsibility

63 amazing wish I could afford it

64 maybe two years

65 my medical health haven't been to the doc in months

66 we don't make enough to qualify for taxes me

67 no i don't wanna share the bed space

68 unscented but I do try to spray them to make em smell better

69 absolutely nothing

Ask meme for people in their 30s

What was the first piece of furniture you bought?

What proportion of your meals do you cook?

Foaming hand soap or normal hand soap?

Favorite chore?

Least favorite chore?

Most precious thing one of your pets has destroyed?

Any groceries you've been getting into lately?

What cleaning product do you swear by?

What's your emotional support craft?

Youtube, cable TV, or streaming?

What's something you saved up for and then regretted buying?

How many cups can you see from where you're sitting?

Which filter are you most likely to go "eh, it's probably fine" when you find out you need to change it?

How often do you take baths?

Do you go down each aisle when you grocery shop, or only the ones you know you need stuff from?

Where do you go when you need to get out of the house but it's raining?

What's a movie you saw recently that you liked?

Pro or anti tchotchkes?

What's your go-to tape?

What's in your freezer right now?

Last concert you attended?

Favorite grocery store?

Paper bags, plastic bags, or reusable bags?

Do you get your government mandated 8 hours every night?

Favorite old person activity?

Would you rather sit on the porch drinking sweet tea or sit by the lake drinking beers?

Do you prefer Boardgame Night, Build-Your-Own-Pizza Night, or Movie Night with your friends?

Be honest, do you like all of the pictures of their babies that your friends send you?

Go-to holiday card format?

How many pairs of scissors do you own?

Do you still own your first car?

How do you take your morning coffee/tea?

What's something you collect?

What's your commute like?

Aisle at the grocery store you never bother walking down?

Do you keep a daily journal or agenda?

Do you still listen to the same music you listened to in high school?

What's the last filter you changed?

What little treat do you always get when you run errands?

Grocery list or no grocery list?

What's the oldest thing you own?

What's an unjustifiably expensive appliance that you really want?

Favorite book you've read recently?

Honest feelings on Settlers of Catan?

What's something you wish you had more time for?

What kind of stuff do you keep on the door of your refrigerator?

Lamps or overhead lighting?

If you could build your home from scratch, what outrageous feature would you want to build into it?

Do you bring a bag with you everywhere you go?

Pro or anti throw pillows?

How many blankets do you keep in your living room?

Did your relationship with your parents get better when you stopped living with them?

What's worse, the DMV or the Social Security Office?

Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?

Favorite high-effort meal that you make?

Favorite low-effort meal that you make?

Do you tend to bring an appetizer, entree, dessert, or drinks to a potluck?

What kind of bag do you use for your bag full of bags?

If you died and your ghost was stuck in the outfit you're wearing right now for the rest of time, would you be happy with it?

Do you have an opinion on your local weather reporter?

Do you have a favorite brunch spot?

Where are you on the minimalism-maximalism kinsey scale?

Opinion on Bath and Body Works?

Last time you visited a farmer's market?

Anything you're procrastinating on right now?

Do you get your taxes in as soon as possible, at the last minute, or late?

Do you keep any stuffed animals on your bed?

Are your garbage bags scented or unscented?

What are you looking forward to next week?

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acidic--citrus · 8 months ago

Text

i didnt want to BLAST op in my last rb with an absolute Wall of tags on like, a two digit note post ,

so im just gonna.... hurl them here

CW: personal vent post, really negative thoughts look away ^^ i just have to get this written down somewhere or else ill Explode, Actually.

its been almost a year since the unfair firing incident at pr//oject moon, and for the last few, like... Months, at this point, ive just been reeeeeeaaaaaally thinking hard about the entire thing, processing overtime how bad it really was, what its a symptom of, and, looking towards the future, how i want to move on from it

coincidentally its also now a little over the 1 year mark of my getting into the p//jm games, and what used to bring me out of my depressive catatonic states has now thrown me Ass First into a Series of them

what i thought was a unique world and a lovely, hopeful narrative, i now realize was just a house-of-mirrors-esque distorted reflection of the world and society we live in

i thought they had a heartfelt and sincere underlying message in their works about humanity and connection, but with how pjm handled the real life situation and INSTANTLY bent its knees and prioritized its money-making incel fanbase over the safety and wellbeing of a Real Human Employee who had NOTHING to do with the situation, its obvious that all of it was hollow to begin with, and now just comes across as "what if capitalism.... but with cool people fighting in cool ways,.. AND monsters!!!" and i just can Not take anything the story tries to meaningfully say (if it ever was in the first place) seriously now

its all showy fireworks that fizzle out fast with nothing substantial behind them: eye candy, fanservice

and that entire ordeal, or rather reviewing the entire ordeal in my head and thinking about it agonizingly over the course of many months, really hammered it in for me that theres no way any form of entertainment out there is worth the livelihood of a real life human being

(and this is where pjm stops being as relevant, but is definitely where all of the next stuff stemmed from)

which got me thinking even further; if no happiness built off of the unhappiness of another is worth it, why does the world at large look the way it is now? call it disillusionment or waking up from my naivety, but i, keeping in mind the worlds other issues at large, like how everyone is fully and wholly documenting how a genocide is going down and the world just merely watches it unfold, realized that Ah. Truly we are So Fucked

i began spiraling further, thinking more and more and began buckling under the weight of problems too unfathomably large for anyone to tackle by themselves—could any of these even be solved within my lifetime as we are now?

to wrap things up, basically its become so so so incredibly hard to want to keep living

(that doesnt necessarily mean i want to die though; i personally make a distinction between the two)

its so hard to wake up feeling like theres something worth doing anymore

create art and make things? its hard to do that when your wrist hurts and youre so slow at everything and it feels like time passes by at x2 speed for you but everyone else seems fine and able to function and you cant help but wish you could hard reset your brain </3 its getting hard to think and articulate and imagine and process and its so discouraging for me.. i find myself wishing there were 36 hours in the day to compensate.....

enjoy a game or novel? its hard when every flicker of happiness feels so frivolous n trivial and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. like okay so i was reading like. last night, right? and everytime like something idk funny or cute happened i was instantly hit with a reality check and became insantly depressed. like what is that. thats so unfair. pit felt like i was going through moodswings in x18 speed. i could Feel the mania brain chemical get to me and then id be Ass Blasted with cortisol and brain numbness not a goddamn second later. what the fuck do you do then ?

i know ill live and all, as when i imagine myself dead or dying it doesnt feel quite right

but being comfortable and living comfortably like this, in my room, safe from the outside, that doesnt sit right with me either

eating is hard. sleeping is hard. i dont want a body. i dont want to have to take care of it. i think i want to disperse into bubbles

maybe ill start writing or something, as words seem to be what im running to for solace nowadays (<- balls deep in webnovel) since HHHHOIAUUURRGGGHHHHH...... WHY must i be an artist why must i be afflicted with the maddening urge to create at all times. i think a lobotomy would fix me

hhhaaaaaahhhh on the topic of creating and art, drawn art specifically, uuuugggghhhhhhhhh drags hand down face FUCK.... SOMETIMES I SEE A REALLY GOOD PIECE OF ART AND IM STRUCK WITH INSPIRATION AND AWE AND RESPECT AND IM LIKE ugghhhhh fuckkkk not AGAIN..... if i dont get something out of these hands right tf now...... and then i beat myself up mentally over not acting on that urge and letting it pass over me because uhm.... WRIST PROBLEMS!!!!! ^^ !!!!! + BRAIN SLOW (and i dont want to be reminded of that fact)!!!!!! ^^

#.txt #edit aint no way this took me an hour to write. it felt like 30 minutes passed at most.#ok so i looked at the clock yeah like 1 hour n a halfish almost passed pretty much.#i saw my last rb was from an hour ago and im like fuucckkkk maaaannnnn nnnoooooooo whhhyyyy #TIME WHEN I GET YOU.... PASSAGE OF TIME WHEN I GET YOU .........#re: the idea that everything feels like im perceiving things at x2 speed/im moving at x0.5 and absolutely hating it #i hate it here #sigh but nevertheless they are my comfort characters. i just wont support them financially ig

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helenaheissner · 1 year ago

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Magical Girl Exorcist Squad (Issue #1: Secret Origins!!!)

Boston, MA; NOW

Time Since Last Monster Attack: 0 Minutes.

Time Since Last Magical Girl Sighting: 3 Days

Nick Nygaard bolted down the streets of Boston, his legs alight with pain, his chest heaving with the strain of a day’s workout already done. He wished he’d remembered to stretch first, but unfortunately, the city exploding behind him didn’t leave him much time or space to limber up.

The day burned with mid-September heat, and the air around Back Bay was thick and sticky as syrup. The sky had been clear not twenty minutes prior but was now tight in the grip of dark and heavy storm clouds. The neighborhood’s myriad brick brownstones and townhouses were stained black and gray with ash, while the sidewalks thundered with the stampeding cacophony of the crowd. Nick sprinted alongside the swell of civilians fleeing the shark-monster for their lives. Unfortunately, the shark-monster had the audacity to be bipedal and have opposable thumbs. It was stark naked but carried a massive purse over its shoulder. With its unholy, disturbing digits, it reached into the purse and retrieved grenade after grenade after grenade, lobbing them into the crowd and cackling maniacally each time a new person was reduced to a pile of bloody viscera. Cars clogged the streets like a blood clot, and the sidewalks were barely more navigable. A withered stump of an old lady limped ahead of Nick, putting as much speed and momentum as she could muster behind each forward thrust, only for her cane to catch on a pothole and bring her crashing to the ground.

“No!” Nick shouted. He reached down and grabbed the old lady, yanking her forward and keeping her propped up against his massive frame even as the shark-monster marched ever-closer. Forward. Forward. Keep moving forward, Nick thought. Keep moving forward, just like that Disney movie always said.

And then the cavalry arrived. From the sky descended four silhouettes on broomsticks, witches complete with pointy hats. Their faces were masked behind white lights, but they were distinguished by their knee-length dresses: yellow, violet, green, and red.

The Magical Girl Exorcist Squad had arrived. God’s chosen all-female squad, able to fight and exorcize demons with a natural power that any man, even the most holy of priests, would fail to muster.

***

One Day Earlier

Time Since Last Monster Attack: 6 Days

Time Since Last Magical Girl Sighting: 2 Days

“Get out of here, kid,” the barkeep said.

“What? Come on!” Nick said, adjusting his tie. He’d worn a suit to the bar, hoping that plus his height would help sell the illusion of the fake ID. It was his father’s, and the problem there was that Peter Nygaard was even bigger than his son was. The suit looked like a twenty-pound garbage back awkwardly wrapped around fifteen pounds of waste, the black jacket and red tie clashing violently with Nick’s pale skin and light blonde hair. The fake ID and the suit both had been his mother’s graduation presents to Nick; she had informed him if he wanted to have a truly good time his first two years of college, he would need these. Nick pointed out the discrepancy of the suit size, and his mom simply said it would be less of an issue when Nick bulked up more. Nick was on Year Two and that still hadn’t happened.

The bartender, a short, portly fellow with a silver beard and a bare pate, stood behind his bar beneath an overhead light. The dive was cramped and claustrophobic, with low brick ceilings and tight brick walls and an overabundance of people beneath dimly lit hanging lamps. Couldn’t afford to make it too bright- that would only expose the abundance of dust covering everything. The place was packed with Nick’s classmates from the university, most of them his own tender age of nineteen and yet inexplicably having no trouble at all getting booze. He looked around- most of them were girls, or had girls with them, showing off some measure of skin so that the barkeep wouldn’t pay too close attention to the numbers on the ID.

Nick chastised himself mentally- he didn’t wanna go down that mental rabbit hole. Nothing good down there.

“Come on, kid, get outta here,” the barkeep said. “I gots paying customers of the legal drinking age to serve. Now, if you wanna soderpop, I can sells you a soderpop, but that’s the best I can do.”

Nick heaved a sigh. “You know what? Nevermind. Have a nice night, sir.”

And with that, he left, ducking down to fit through the door as he entered the warm night. The sky was clear, but the stars were blotted out from light pollution. People drifted by, in and out of bars, in and out of clubs, in and out of homes, and Nick was alone. Everyone was busy rushing to where they had to be, and Nick didn’t have to be anywhere at all. He sighed, and he looked up at the stars that he couldn’t see and wondered what he should do now.

So, he went to church.

St. Joseph’s sat at the far south end of campus, right where it began to bleed into the rest of the city, where concrete and metal buildings met wood and tile homes. It was a one-story house of worship made of slate and cement, rising up out of the ground and coming up far short of the skyline while every other structure on the block made a far more valiant attempt. Nick approached the white-painted wooden door and wrapped the black metal knocker and waited. Probably nobody was here this time of night-

The door burst open with a hurried shove, and an elderly black man with a severe face and hunched shoulders stood in the archway. His white natural hair was tied back in a bun that made his face look even harsher, stretching out his wrinkles and eye bags, like his visage was held in place by a tight knot at the back of the skull. “WHAT?! What do you- oh, Nicolas. My son. Hello. What can I do for you this evening?”

“Hello Bishop Roberts,” Nick said, brushing his flaxen blonde hair from his eyes. “I was wondering if I could receive Confession?”

“This time of- oh, oh, fair enough. Let me fetch Father Gonzalez.”

Father Gonzalez met Nick inside the belly of the church, in a wooden pew facing the altar, where a golden crucifix stared down from behind the empty pulpit. The altar was the least austere part of the church, a cornucopia of muted but still distinct colors in a place otherwise cast in white and gray and brown. Stained glass windows filtered streetlights into the otherwise darkened space- during the day, they cast neon rainbows across the house of God, but in the darkness, they only made the place feel large and heavy and threatening.

Father Gonzalez was a man recently settled into middle-age, the salt around the temples of his pepper hair evidently there to stay. His brown eyes were tired but friendly, his frock and collar wrinkled but lived in. His hands were the only thing that didn’t match the rest of him- they were massive and gnarled, collections of scars and calluses, with a slight tremble that never seemed to diminish. In his sermons, he’d occasionally mentioned having served in the Marines, but tended to avoid specific details of his service. He walked with a steady limp and sat down next to Nick in the pew. Together, they both looked up at the Crucifix. “Evening, Nicolas.”

“Good evening, Father Gonzalez,” Nick said. He instantly crossed himself and closed his eyes. “Bless me Father, for I have-”

“What did you do this time, mijo?” Father Gonzalez asked, cracking his knuckles.

Nick opened his eyes and found an impish smirk on Father Gonzalez’s face. “Really?” Nick inquired. “We’re not even gonna-”

“Mi hijo en cristo, you’re here twice a week even outside of services. It’s always something with you. Now don’t get me wrong- I wish more people your age came clean as often as you did. But you gotta admit, sometimes, well…”

“What?”

“Last week you confessed to jaywalking.”

Nick licked his lips, brushed his hair from his eyes again. Getting too long again- he always let it get too long before he did anything about it. “I think I see your point.”

“So, what was it this time? Cut in line at the coffee shop?”

“Tried to use a fake ID to buy alcohol.”

“Oh, boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.”

“Is that a bad ‘oh boy.’”

“It’s a ‘you’re a young man, these things happen,’ oh boy.”

Nick winced, not sure why, not sure which part of the sentence set him off- either way, it was like worms digging around inside his brain. “I mean- I shouldn’t be breaking the law-”

“It’s a dumb law,” Father Gonzalez said with a derisive wave of his hand. Nick balked, but the priest continued. “It is. They should lower the drinking age to eighteen. It would probably result in fewer college freshmen getting into unnecessary trouble. But these are the laws of man, not God, so while they can be changed, it’s up to the lawmakers to change it. Perhaps one day they will. Until then, mijo, say an extra ‘Hail Mary’ or two tonight, try not to do this again, and go easy on yourself.”

Nick leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should tell him. Father Gonzalez would surely understand. He could tell him he was thinking of becoming a priest. Surely the good father would encourage something like that.

“Anything else on your mind?” Father Gonzalez asked.

“... No,” Nick said. He crossed himself again, then he got up. “Have a good night, Father. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Get home safe.”

“Will do!” Nick said, heading for the door. “Good night, Bishop Roberts! Good night, Sister Quinn! Good night, Jesus!”

Father Gonzalez laughed, and somewhere nearby, Sister Quinn did the same. Bishop Marcus just groaned.

Nick ambled through the warm Monday night air, homing in on the all-boy’s Ditko Hall dorm. It was a six-story cement building, packed to the gills with the odors of sweat and booze and weed. It took five tries before the card reader recognized Nick’s school ID card. After that, Nick stood waiting for the elevator to the top floor for ten minutes before it opened fully packed, and a herd of partiers flooded out. At that point, he decided just to take the stairs.

He made it up to the top floor to find it absolutely packed, strobe lights flashing and techno music blaring and college kids grinding on each other. Some were making out against the walls or inside open doorways, while others engaged in… Marital activities inside rooms that also had their doors open. This, Nick just couldn’t understand about his dorm- he got that it was an all-boy’s dorm in theory, which meant that in practice about half the guys who lived here either lived with their girlfriends/boyfriends/partners in other buildings while the other half simply had their partners move in with them here. He got that the RA’s weren’t gonna do anything because the RA’s were among the guys who had their partners living with them. What he didn’t get was the proverbial open-door policy they had here: the one time Nick asked about it, the only answer he received was a choral cry of ‘THERE NO SECRETS IN DITKO HALL’ from everyone present. And whenever he asked anyone else on campus about that, they all just said that was how Ditko Hall rolled, like it was a remotely normal thing to happen on a college campus! Sometimes Nick wondered if there was some elaborate monster attack plan underscoring all the weirdness, but then again, the school counselors advised pretty strongly against attributing everything you didn’t like about college to monster attacks. It was a slippery slope. Sometimes, though, Nick wondered if he himself was the only normal person here. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only normal person he’d ever met.

He decided he probably wasn’t gonna get an answer tonight. His eyes traced the party back to the entrance to his room- the door was opened, and his roommate, Curtis, a perpetually shirtless hockey player with a man bun and a blunt in his mouth, was chatting up a sorority sister in a royal blue tube dress. Nick sighed and turned around and headed back downstairs. It was almost impressive- Curtis had kept the party going for nearly three days straight without a pause or a noise complaint.

Nick really missed his bed.

He went to the Morrison Memorial Library, a square, stone building that looked like a medieval castle and rose up ten stories into the air. He promptly passed out on one of the couches in the front lobby, a copy of the Screwtape Letters laying open on his chest, and woke up with his alarm at six in the morning as other students first began filtering inside for the day.

First thing’s first: the gym. The Bryan Q. Miller Recreation Center was free for all full-time students, and Nick took advantage of that six days a week. First was lifting, then cardio, then core. Ninety minutes later, he showered in the gym, making sure not to look at anyone while he was in there. Public showers had always made him uncomfortable. Eyes on him, his eyes on other people. Felt dirty. Not that the washroom at his dorm was all that much better. At least here there weren’t mirrors every six inches. There were few things in all the world Nick hated as much as he hated mirrors.

After that came breakfast: an egg-white and turkey-sausage breakfast burrito, a protein shake, and an apple. He sat in a booth in the center of the cavernous mess hall, a wooden building with a dome-like roof and a warm finish on everything. He was alone but surrounded by people. He recognized some guys from the gym, who worked out there every day, most of whom had the same routine as him. He should really go over and introduce himself, make some darned friends. They all wore the school’s red and black basketball uniforms- must have been a game tonight. Nick loved basketball. He’d played it all during high school. He had stuff in common with these guys. He should go over and talk to them like a normal freaking person.

Nick stood up, then immediately turned around and left, cursing this muscle memory.

As he went outside, he saw a group of four girls sitting at a circular table engrossed in what looked like an intense argument. He couldn’t make out what they were saying- they were all talking at once. One was a mid-height white girl with sparkling green eyes, dark brown hair arranged in an elaborate French-twist, clad in a high-necked yellow dress with long sleeves and an ankle-length skirt; she was gripping the edge of the wooden table with her perfectly manicured hands, red nails looking about ready to shatter under the pressure. Next to her was a shorter black girl with a large head of natural hair shooting out freely, wearing a violet crop top and a denim mini skirt, patting the brunette’s shoulder and seemingly trying to calm her down. Next to her was a very, very tall Asian girl with biceps Nick sincerely envied, short black hair slicked back like an 80s businessman, wearing a green floral blouse and a black pencil skirt; she was the only one smiling, the only one who looked happy as she chattered on about whatever it was she was chattering on about. Finally, facing opposite the brunette was a short Hispanic girl with curly brown hair arranged into a messy bun atop her head, clad in a red sundress, angrily pointing at the black girl with what Nick assumed was some kind of accusation.

Then they all stopped and stared at Nick. “WHAT?!” they all cried in unison.

Nick yelped, then skittered away feeling like a massive creep.

His 10 AM anatomy class resided in a white marble building called the Wolfman Building, on the second floor of five. Nick sat on a rolling swivel chair by the window, the sunlight caressing his pale skin as it illuminated a stark room devoid of decorations or trappings or anything resembling a personal touch. He jotted down notes while Professor Perez talked about the types of muscles in the human leg. Nick knew he should pay better attention, but he felt like he already knew all this. His own research deep dives covered most of this at some point, but still, nobody would hire a self-taught physical therapist. So instead, he needed to get himself through the six-year program, one day at a time.

Class let out, and Nick checked his phone as he weaved through the crowd. He only had one other class on Tuesdays, and it wasn’t until seven in the evening, so he had plenty of time. The annoying thing about his schedule was all his classes were three hours long and met once a week. This left him plenty of free time. Free time to… Work out more, mostly. Perhaps attempt to make friends.

Right. Sure, kid, sure, he thought to himself. He decided to go for a walk to get the soreness out of his legs, and sauntered into Back Bay with its fancy hotels and expensive restaurants and boutique retail outlets at the edge of the one clean part of Boston Harbor. Sometimes Nick wished he’d stayed in New Hampshire. He’d had… Well, not a ton of friends there, but at least a few. More than he had here. More than he’d managed to make his entire freshman year of college, and certainly more than he’d made three weeks into his sophomore year. Sometimes he just wished he’d taken a different path. Sometimes he wished he could just leave it all behind, give his life up to God. Maybe become a Priest.

The idea appealed to him more and more every day. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about his incredibly cringe-worthy interactions with women… Well, no, he still would, just in a different way.

He sighed. He checked his phone again. Four missed calls from Mom, three from his little brother Zack, and one from his little sister Monica. He scrolled through his smartphone’s contact list and came upon the one for his dad. His finger lingered over the call button for a few minutes as he stopped on the sidewalk, a woman in a bulky trench coat knocking into him.

“Oh, excuse me,” Nick started. The woman had fallen over, and Nick offered a hand up, but she swatted it away as she stood up.

The jacket fell off. Nick screamed, far louder than he’d intended to.

“WHAT AN UPSTANDING YOUNG MAN!” the shark-woman screamed. “You’ll make an excellent addition to my Devil’s Purse!”

“Oh, Blue Blazes!” Nick cried. This lunacy again- it happened every darned week at this point! And to think the school kept telling them not to blame everything on this insanity!

Nick started to run as explosions went off all around the shark-woman. She chucked grenades from her purse all around, and small explosions dented the streets and totaled cars and knocked people over. And after the dust cleared from the explosions, quadrupedal land-sharks the size of terriers crawled out of the ground and started taking bites out of civilians. The iron scent of blood saturated the air as the shark woman laughed and laughed while she threw her explosives and her spawn ran amok tearing off people’s feet by the ankle.

Nick bolted down the streets of Boston, his legs bursting with pain, his chest heaving. Cars clogged the streets like a blood clot, and the sidewalks swelled with an overabundance of panic and chaos. An old lady limped ahead of him, putting as much speed and momentum as she could muster behind each forward thrust, only for her cane to catch on a pothole and bring her crashing to the ground.

“No!” Nick shouted. He reached down and grabbed the old lady, yanking her forward and keeping her propped up with his massive frame even as the shark-monster marched ever-closer.

The Magical Girl Exorcist Squad had arrived. God’s chosen all-female squad, able to fight and exorcize demons with a natural power that any man, even the most holy of priests, would fail to muster.

From above, the witch clad in Yellow shot a column of pure shadow from her palm and wrapped the largest cluster of land-sharks in a sphere of impenetrable darkness. Violet flew in, shining with golden light, while Yellow went in afterwards.

Green leaped off her broomstick and into the fray. She began launching her fists, knocking back the land-sharks dozens of yards with single punches, pulling cars off of pinned civilians with a casual ease. “CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!” she screamed. He could discern her mouth, her eyes, but none of her features registered. None of their features registered. It was a glamor, or so the rumor went: something that let them maintain secret identities.

Red floated above Green, extending her hands and shoving back land-sharks with telekinetic blasts to keep their horrible jaws away from civilians. She said nothing and was completely still while she worked. Even if Nick couldn’t make out her face, he could still discern her slumped shoulders. She looked… Exhausted.

Regardless, Nick pumped his fist with joy. Even if he was in danger, even if the danger was becoming routine, there was still nothing quite like getting to see honest to goodness superheroes in action.

The old lady tugged at Nick’s sleeve. “Um… Dearie?”

“What?”

“Hello there,” a guttural helium growl erupted behind them. Oh, Blue Blazes! The shark-woman loomed over them. It had more teeth than Nick thought was possible, and its eyes were a cold and harsh solid black. Drool dripped down the monster’s chin as it growled, “I AM THE DEVIL’S PURSE! PREPARE TO DIE!”

And so, lacking anything else in the way of workable options, Nick punched a shark in the face.

A song of heat and power surged through Nick, starting in his heart and his mind, coalescing in his shoulder and channeling down into his fist. Adrenaline saturated every fiber of his being, and as his fist connected with the shark’s eye, white light exploded out of his hand and flooded into the shark-woman. The shark screamed and convulsed, and then a geyser of black smoke, odorous with brimstone, erupted from her mouth in a continuous stream. Finally, the shark-woman was engulfed in a column of black light, and a low resonance hummed around her. Then it was gone, and a completely normal shark laid on the ground flopping about helplessly.

The land-sharks all vanished as if they’d never even been there.

Nick stared at his fist in shock. This wasn’t possible- he’d just exorcized a demon! Only women had that power. So how had he-

“HEY!” a sharp voice cut through Nick’s inner thoughts. The girls, the city’s resident superheroes, were approaching him, their distinctive designer heels clicking on the ground as they stepped. Red and Violet ambled forward with a sense of relief and gratitude, Green with an effortless joy, and Yellow with… Something else.

“You! Explain! Now!” the Yellow Exorcist said, marching towards him with hands on her hips, the rest of the squad close behind.

“I think I just exorcized that shark demon,” Nick said.

And then all four of the magical girls said in unison: “WHAT?!”

And suddenly, they seemed a bit more familiar to Nick.

Buy the ebook here!

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horseboneologist · 3 years ago

Text

Uhh umm does anyone else think that - maybe - Jon might have a hard time adjusting to life Somewhere Else? 😥

Text pulled / adjusted from ep 199

Hopefully tumblr doesn't scrungle the quality but y'all know how it is. Id below the cut

A three-page digital comic of Jon Sims from the Magnus Archives, done in muddy green and yellow tones.

Page 1:

Panel 1: Jon is sitting on public transport, looking down out the window with a distracted expression. He is a slim, medium-skinned, dark-haired man with slight pockmark scarring on his face and hands. His hair is cut short and has prominent grey streaks. he is wearing a brown calf-length coat, dark turtleneck, and dark pants. He has a dark shoulder bag on the seat next to him.

Panel 2: Jon looks up out the window with an expression like he's trying not to cry.

Panel 3: Jon looks away from the window and down, with an exhausted expression. The text box reads "It's a matter of guilt."

Panel 4: From Jon's pov, looking down at his own hands. His left holds his right and massages the burn scar with a thumb.

Panel 5: A low view of strangers sitting on a bench in the metro car. Only their feet and lower torsos are shown. Under the bench is darkness. One individual has purple shoelaces. The text boxes read: "It's like it was before." "Fear lurking at the edges."

Panel 6: A view from below of a young asian woman holding onto a handrail, with a cup of coffee in her other hand. She has long, pointed nails painted dark green. The text box reads: "It's not like bad stuff wasn't happening already."

Panel 7: Two young people are asleep in their seat. The man is black with bleached short dreads, and he is resting his cheek on his girlfriend's hair. The woman is white with light hair, dyed brighter green at the tips. She has facial piercings. She is leaning fully back on her boyfriend. His arm is around her, holding her in place. The text boxes read: "We can't take responsibility" "For the hypothetical actions" "Of hypothetical people."

Page 2:

Panel 1: A white man sits on a metro seat holding a bottle of dark soda. He is wearing a beanie and large headphones, and a pale jacket with a big furry collar. His wedding ring is purple. The text boxes read: "We all lived with monsters in the shadows" "And just got on with it."

Panel 2: Jon, viewed from the side. He has leaned his head back against the seat and is staring at the ceiling, with his hands in his lap. In this position, a scar is visible across his throat. The text box reads: "Until we didn't."

Panel 3: A young white girl is twisting around in her seat to look back at the viewer, at Jon. The text boxes read: "There has to be a chance" "It won't happen at all," "Right?"

Panel 4: The viewer is now in the pov of the girl, and Jon is staring directly back at her. His expression is distant and unhappy. The text box reads: "There's got to be a chance."

Panel 5: Jon is standing up to get off the train. He has slung his bag over his shoulder. He is still staring at the girl. The text box reads: "That they'll figure out something we didn't."

Panel 6: A view from above with Jon exiting the train. A few people are waiting for him to get off, their faces are not really visible. One man has gotten off before him and walks away. Jon looks up towards the viewer. Extending from a pillar next to the viewer's pov is a security camera, pointed at Jon, with a purple power cord. On the side of the metro traincar is a logo reading "Citi Web Transport" and an icon of an arrow-shaped web design. The border of the logo and the nodes at the web's connections are purple. The text box reads: "You've got to hope."

Page 3:

Panel 1: Jon's feet as he ascends a set of stairs. The text boxes read: "You can't let anyone else feel that." "That helpless, enormous guilt."

Panel 2: Jon leans against a wall outside the subway entrance. His eyes are closed and his hands are drawn up to his mouth to light a cigarette. The entrance to the subway is partially visible, with a tall streetlamp at the corner of the stairwell. The streetlamp has a narrow pole and wide, flat lantern. The lantern's windows are split into 8 segments, and the one nearest to Jon is purple, taking on the vague shape of an eye looking down at him. The text box reads: "You've got to hope."

Panels 3-6 are arranged as four quarters of a square, and have nearly identical images.

Panel 3: A closeup of the bottom of Jon's face and his hands. He has a cigarette in his mouth and is trying and failing to light a green lighter. The cigarette has a purple stylized eye design as the logo. The lighter goes -click- with purple sparks. The text box reads: "You can't"

Panel 4: The background is slightly paler. Jon's face is more in view. His eye is nearly closed and he looks distressed. The lighter goes -click- -click- with more purple sparks. The text box reads: "Let anyone else"

Panel 5: The background is slightly paler. The lighter goes -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- with more purple sparks. The text boxes read: "Feel that helpless-" "Enormous-"

Panel 6: The background is very dark. The lighter has a flame with a small -fssh-. The core of the flame is purple, as is the ember of the cigarette. The text box reads: "You've got to hope."

Panel 7: Four nearly identical images of Jon's hand holding the cigarette. The descend through the panel from top left to bottom right. His skin tone is adjusted to contrast to the background color, which is a swirl of grey-green that is pale in the center and dark at the corners. The cigarette is burning away and ash is building into a longer and longer tail. The ember is purple. The final hand holds a cigarette that is nearly all ash hanging off the end. The text boxes read: "It's a matter of guilt." "You didn't fix it." "You just passed it on."

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nootqueen404 · 2 years ago

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Welcome to my Nightmare - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Want More? Have a Master List!

Summary: Y/n and her friend Faye made it to Zombie Todd’s House of Sin, but will Eddie even recognize you? Is he the same man you remember?

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warning (DNI if you’re under 18): All characters are over 18, swearing, hints of fighting, arguing, groupies mentioned, rampant fantasies,

A/n: I had to break this one down again. So WtmN might be more than 3 parts. Shout out to @reddeadgirl666for putting up with my bullshit and being my second set of eyes.

Tags: @groupies-do-it-better @reddeadgirl666

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Your best friend swung the car right into her drive way and the two of you made a B-line for the basement, or as Faye liked to call it, her “Cave of Wonders.” She lived with her grandparents since they needed extra help in their old age. Since she was the Head of Hawkins High’s Costume Department she did all of her work from home. Monster masks rested on mannequin heads on shelves, the floor littered with fabric scraps along with towering bins filled with props. Two of her three sewing machines still had unfinished gowns waiting to be altered for the next play and the walls were covered with both movie and band posters. With all of the cans of hairspray, fabric glue, and fabric dye the basement always smelled clean and fresh – mostly because her Grandfather was former Navy (making him a clean freak by default) and the laundry room was right next door. Trying to pick just one costume from the sea of clothing racks was almost impossible. Should you go as a witch? No, too basic. How about the Childlike Empress from the Never Ending Story? No, too elaborate and you’re way over 18. That would be weird! Faye suggested Princess Leia’s slave outfit, but you were worried about being arrested for indecent exposure. Finally you settled on a short black dress with lace accents along the hem and a built in faux corset and paired it with an cream-colored off the shoulder blouse with three-quarter bell sleeves, fishnets that Faye had bedazzled with red crystals, and knee high boots. “Vampire with a modern twist” you called it. Faye called it “Man Eater Material.” You paired it with a few long necklaces, vampy makeup, a short blood red cape, and teasing your hair to Jesus. Faye decided on being clever by going as her namesake – a fairy. She wore a dark green skirt that looked like leaves and was dotted with little white flowers and a sparkly lavender butterfly top. Her red hair was put up into space buns and dusted with glitter. Faye pulled on a hair of matching fingerless gloves, a pair of beautiful iridescent wings, and anklets that jingled when she walked. She slipped on a pair of white converse for comfort and you both were out the door as the sun started to set. By the time you reached the venue it was already 7PM. Faye didn’t tell you this place was an hour and a half away from Hawkins…or how run down the place looked.

“When you said the place was called ‘Zombie Todd’s House of Sin’ I thought you were joking…” you said looking the club up and down. The building looked really small and was covered with graffiti and old promo posters. Attached was an old hotel that could have doubled as a Victorian castle. There was a line out the door and the entrance was flanked with bouncers. Faye touched up her lip gloss in the rearview mirror of her baby yellow 54’ Ford Thunderbird

“Now Y/n, do you think I’d really make up a name as ridiculous as that?” You just stared at her. Yes, yes she would.

Your friend rolled her eyes at you and took your hand, leading you inside. You both showed the bouncers your IDs, stamped your hands, paid the $10 entrance fee, and went inside the so-called “House of Sin.”

The club was a lot larger on the inside; there were three levels – a balcony that looked over the entire club and had a few places to sit, the second one you and Faye were on that lead to the bar and some booths, and the finally one being the dance floor and stage. The walls looked like they were made of crushed red velvet and the stairs leading to the dance floor lit up. Crystal chandeliers that look like they haven’t been cleaned since Prohibition hung from the ceiling, the walls were decorated with local artwork, but the hardwood floors felt sticky underneath your boots. Stay classy Zombie Todd. But one of the most interesting things about the club was the cages.

“Are those fucking cages?!” you started to feel a little uneasy. No way in hell those were sturdy enough to hold anyone.

“Well yeah,” said Faye “remember hearing about go-go dancers? That’s where they would perform for tips. Now come on Y/n, Burgie needs her juice!” The tiny red head dragged you over to the bar and you ordered some drinks.

The bartender had to get his manager over to double check that Faye was in fact 21, and he begrudgingly gave her the dink she wanted. You settled for a rum and coke, though the Kick-Flip Faye ordered did sound amazing. You both made it down to the dance floor just in time for the shitty DJ to finish their set, Faye’s bells ringing with each step she took.

“Try it! It has pineapple in it!” shouted Faye, your ears still adjusting to the booming speakers. You took a sip and immediately felt the room spin.

“Holy fuck Burgie, what’s in this thing – Sugar and rocket fuel?” You thumped your chest with a closed fist trying to get burn out of your system.

She laughed “Close! It’s got three kinds of rum in it, some fancy-shmancy liquor called Galliano or whatever, vanilla syrup, pineapple chunks, and pineapple juice.”

You looked at her with some concern “Faye that’s a lot of alcohol for one drink!”

Faye just laughed “I’m also extremely Irish! I can handle it!”

Just then the lights go out and the MC came on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Ghouls and goblins! The moment you’ve been waiting for has arrived! Please give a warm welcome to our very own…Corroded Coffin!!!” The whole club erupted in cheers and applause as the members ran on stage and got into position. “Hey! Put the bottle down and get your ass up here, Munson!” barked the MC as he stumbled off stage, clearly inebriated.

There he was – the man who had a vice grip on your heart since 4th grade – Eddie ‘the Freak” Munson. Long gone was the buzz cut, braces, and chubby cheeks. He was a man now, a man in his element. He waved to the crowed and flashed his signature grin. All of the members of Corroded Coffin were dressed up like classic Universal monsters: Jeff was the Wolfman, Gareth was Frankenstein, and Kevin was the Mummy. Eddie, on the other hand, wasn’t dressed up like any particular monster. It looks more like he made his normal wardrobe spookier. He had on black ripped jeans that had bat wings along the waist, a vintage blood red tee with Alice Cooper’s severed head on the front, black Vans, and his trademark battle vest layered over a black leather jacket. Eddie was also wearing makeup; his eyes lined with black eyeliner and some black and red eye shadow for dramatic effect. You don’t remember if he’s ever worn makeup before, but good God did he make it look good! If anything it made him twenty times hotter. His warm brown eyes looked darker, sultrier and almost evil, his fangs glistening in the stage lights.

“Fangs…?”

BWANG!

A soon as the first cord was hit you were up and out if your seat, the riffs slammed into your chest like a freight train. He was playing Metallica’s Master of Puppets. You almost forgot how great Corroded Coffin was live. You remembered the day Eddie gave you Coffin’s first demo, how excited he was for you to hear it. You remembered how pissed Dustin was that you got a copy before he did. Eddie laughed at him gave the young DM a copy before, as Ed put it, “creamed his pants.” When Eddie was on the run you played it almost every day because of how much you missed his voice. But he’s here now, standing on stage singing his heart out and blasting away on his most prized possession – his electric guitar “Princess.” It was silly but sometimes you got jealous of that stupid thing. You wanted Eddie to look at you like he looked at that guitar, hold onto you for dear life like the guitar. You constantly fantasized how those rough fingers of his felt on your skin…in your heat…

Faye was watching you watching Eddie. “Jesus fuck are you whipped y/n…” She waved her hand in front of your face trying to see if you’re even blinking. She understood your crush on him. You’ve always asked Faye how she didn’t possibly feel anything for the charming metal head. If anything it made more sense for Faye and Eddie to be an item. Faye was always the more outgoing one of the two of you and the chemistry between her and Eddie seemed to be there. But she always said it would be “too much chaos” for either of them to handle. Faye also said it would be like dating her twin. She only ever had eyes for Steve Herrington: All looks, no brains, big heart, but eager to learn, and willing to please. But Faye was getting tired of waiting for you to make your move. It looks like it was time for Faye Burgun to play Cupid. She had taken a break from watching you to slam back the last of her drink, and the next thing she knew you were gone.

Panicked, Faye scrambled out of the booth and started looking for you. It didn’t take long for her to find you. You were standing as close to the stage as you could without entering the mosh pit.

“How the hell did you get past those guys?” Faye mumbled to herself. She managed to squeeze past a particularly rowdy group of fans and put a hand on your shoulder. It looked like you were in a trance; just starting at Eddie Munson. Were you even breathing?!

“You can stop drooling now, Vampira…”

You broke out of your trance and blew a raspberry at the red-headed fairy “Shut up!”

Faye laughed but quickly stopped and forced you to look back at the stage. “Oh shit Y/n look he’s taking his jacket off!”

Sure enough, the fluffy-haired Munson had peeled his battle vest/leather jacket combo of. His freckled skin slick with sweat and the shirt he had on lifted a little to reveal his happy trail.

Fuck! You could feel yourself start to drool. He separated the two and tossed his beloved battle vest into the crowd while tying the leather jacket around his waist.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit!”

Hands were flying everywhere trying to catch the singer’s vest and a small fight was on the verge of breaking out. People were falling over themselves to get that damn vest. But the vest, almost like magic, fell right into your outstretched hands.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what happened, and when it hit you that you had Eddie’s vest in your hands you lost it. You were on cloud nine and Faye was shaking your shoulder and screaming.

“Holy shit y/n that was THE BEST catch I’ve ever seen!” She saw a hand try to go for your prize. Faye whipped around and put the guy’s hand into a vice grip, and probably smacking him in the face with her wings. “Back off smeg-head, the vest is hers!” she snapped at guy wearing only a Swamp Thing mask and cargo shorts. The two started arguing, but you were too distracted.

Eddie’s eyes met yours and the whole world seemed to stop. He recognized you! With the biggest smile he can muster he mouthed your name before looking back at someone and pointing at you and the angry Faye. He said something to them then turned back to shoot you a wink and a grin before getting back to the show. You could feel yourself getting hotter.

He’s still got it.

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shushiyuii · 3 years ago

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Adopt a Mortal

@smogs-0 Oh Smoggy~ Your angst is here, and only you can decide if there will be a part 2 or not~

Warnings: Zombies (which means this will contain mentions of death, injury, death and maybe other subjects. Be advised). Swearing. Apocalypse.

Words: 1.5K+

It’s been 3 weeks since the outbreak.

He didn’t know how he made it so far, he’s barely escaped any encounters with those monsters. Zombies as the others call them, which he honestly called bullshit on.

Not to mention but food had almost become rare at this point, so many had taken it for granted and themselves, hoping to be the only ones to survive. But a majority of the population was already gone, including his own parents so no doubt that food went somewhere.

His own group was fucked up, he ended up with them by chance. They almost killed him, to begin with, but decided they could use his agility and slim figure to their advantage of tight spaces and stuff. Which he hated but it was the only chance he had at survival.

He was now on his own in a world of Zombies. Trust nobody.

…

It’s been 3 months since the outbreak.

He was shoved to the floor, kicked by another member. “Little shit! You’re just dead weight!”, “It’d be better if we left him for dead”.

They took away his belongings, leaving him unarmed. He ran away and as he did, he heard their screams. Zombies were coming and his ‘group’ just died like complete idiots. His arms covered his stomach as he limped in pain, this was going to be a difficult situation to get out of.

…

He slammed his hand over his mouth, trying to be as silent as possible as a couple of Zombies wandered around aimlessly, hoping to catch their next piece of delicious prey. if he were to get into one of their sights. He’d be dead in an instant.

He was unarmed as stupid as it was.

Whatever he didn’t want to die here.

…

One month since the outbreak.

Hunger was all he felt for the longest time, he wondered. He didn’t remember who he was. Not that he cared, he had no control. He only wanted to eat, hunt. His reasoning. The thought of meat making in growl in excitement.

That all changed when he followed a horde of Zombies towards the humans. They shot and yelled, fearing for their lives. They were terrified, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him and the others was that their hunger was satisfied.

…

He got shot, in the shoulder. He didn’t feel it but he did stumble. In the distance, he heard, “You imbecile! That was the prototype!”. Whatever it is afterwards the humans got away.

He slumped against the wall of a corner shop, feeling oddly tired and fell asleep.

…

He woke up, with thoughts screaming at him. He looked around in confusion as knowledge flowed through his newly working brain. He was confused, scared. What happened? He wasn’t like this before?

He stood up, stumbling. He looked to the shoulder of his trench coat, the shot of the clothing being there but his skin had almost regenerated as if it had never happened.

He ran into the crowd of nearby Zombies, he pushed into them. Getting no reaction, he was sentient, and the others weren’t. Had that bullet done something to him?

…

3 months since the outbreak.

He’s learnt that he’s become different to the other zombies, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s more aware than them, almost as if he were a human in a zombie’s body.

He learnt his name was Wilbur by the wallet and ID in his pocket. Which was good to know, not only that but he no longer felt that hunger, nothing actually. He felt no pain, sensation or anything.

But one thing he did feel was more powerful and stronger. He learnt he could easily flip over cars and change his size at will, which came in handy for hard-to-reach places. Not only that but any wound he sustained was easily recovered from, barely leaving a scar.

He hadn’t yet encountered humans, probably because there weren’t many left.

He had managed to create a place of his own in an apartment with a broken mirror, it did him good with a desk to write on, a guitar he could surprisingly play, a comfortable bed, everything he needed.

He looked in the mirror, he was outrageously pale, but not that green colour other zombies had, he was missing an eye that his hair easily covered, and his beanie covered up parts of his exposed skull. Which left him looking rather human.

…

He wandered the streets a while since he really had nothing better to do. That was until something caught his attention, zombies were crowding around a particular shop with curiosity. It made him curious as to what was going on.

He followed them inside and wandered for a while, then he saw them. What had caught the zombies interest but had not been picked up by them yet. It seems that the human had managed to narrowly getaway and was now narrowly avoiding them.

The human stared at him in horror, his bright blue eyes striking Wilbur. His hair was blonde but covered in dirt, not to mention that the boy himself was covered in dust, dirt and dried blood. The human was barely covered in protection with just a red and white t-shirt, trousers and recked shoes. How had he gotten this far?

He crouched down to the human, “Hey…”. He whispered, “What are you doing here kid?”. The human’s eyes furrowed at the nickname. “Trying to get away here! Dickhead!”. The boy whisper-yelled. “Well, you aren’t doing a very good job at it!”. He whisper-yelled back.

He pinched his nose and sighed, “Get to the back room as soon as you hear a sound, I’ll distract them.”, “What? That’s a death sentence!”, “Don’t worry about me! Worry about yourself!”.

Wilbur then crawled his way to the other side of the shop, not wanting to get suspicion from the human. He then grabbed a pan from a nearby shelf and threw it to a nearby shelf, which caused enough noise to gain the zombie's attention, making their way over there.

He then saw the backroom door open, he then made his way over there quietly. Once he made it and shut the door. The boy was already barricading it, making sure no zombies made their way in.

“Thanks, man, had no idea how I’d get outta that one. Names, Tommy”. Interesting, the human's name was Tommy, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wilbur. What are you doing out in a place like this? You look a bit young to be on your own if I’m honest”.

“Hey! I’m a grown man! And uh- my group left me to die”. The boy seemed upset by that fact, looking away. “Well, they’re assholes. Don’t worry about em’ you can stick with me for now if you want.”. Wait- he didn’t mean- “Really?”.

“Yeah, don’t mind helping for a little bit”. Great, why did he agree? Now he was stuck with a child.

…

The human then began to rummage through what seemed to be boxes of already looted stuff. He managed to find an old backpack with some small tins of food and water left in a small crate. Not only that but a small dagger to defend himself with, he seemed quite exciting when he found it.

“So, Wil. How’d you end up in the outbreak?”, he asked as he continued to rummage through crates. Wilbur took a minute to answer, one thing was he the human- Tommy didn’t know he was a zombie, not only that but even himself didn’t know how he became a zombie.

“Uhh, kinda just ended up in the place?”. “Oh, you didn’t have family or anything”, “No?”. “Ah, well for me my parents died in a car crash when the outbreak hit, now I’m on my own since my group left me”.

“Why did they leave you?”, “said I was deadweight, which wasn’t true. I did most of the shit they wanted”. “Forget em’ they aren’t worth it”. “I realised that thanks again, for the save.”. “It’s nothing don’t worry about it”.

The two then made their way out of the building, then got stuck by a wall. “Give me a hand will you?” he asked as he clumsily tried to climb the wall. Wilbur then gave him a boost and he climbed over, not without giving Wilbur his own hand to help him up.

Wilbur grabbed his hand, “Woah! You got a good grip!”. “I- yeah. Guess so”. He then helped Wilbur up the wall and the two continued their way to safety…

…

The two ran as fast as they could from the racing zombies, perhaps the two were a little bit too reckless with noise and were now getting chased down by a horde of Zombies. They ran into alleyways, alley after alley.

Eventually, though, they got cornered. Tommy brought his knife, prepared to defend his life. “Stay behind me!”, “What? Are you crazy?!”, “STAY BEHIND ME!”. He growled as he kept the boy behind him.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #sizeshifter!Wilbur #tiny!tommy #Shushi's writings

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cantdanceflynn · 2 years ago

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HERES MY PROPAGANDA RANT TO VOTE FOR AUDREY BC I DONT FEEL UP TO DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT I CANT LIVE W NOT DOIN ANYTHING

1: SHES SO TIRED. JUST. LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD SEEMS TO MELT AROUND HER, SHE CAN BARELY KEEP HER BEST FRIEND ON HER SIDE, SHE IS LITERALLY FIGHTING THE INEVITABLE END OF THE WORLD, AND YET!! SHE ALWAYS FINDS TIME TO HANG OUT W SOME OF THE KIDS AROUND AND REASSURE THEM, TO KEEP INFIGHTING AT A MINIMUM, TO TRY AND TALK TO PEOPLE AND TEACH THEM HOW TO USE THEIR POWERS. SHE IS THE LIVING DEFINITION OF CHOOSING KINDNESS AS A THIRD, UNMENTIONED PATH, EVEN WHEN NOTHING SEEMS KIND

2: SHES GOT A KICKASS SPIDER HYBRID GF NAMED ARIA AMONGST THE ARMY OF VOID CREATURES AND THEY SEND EACH OTHER CUTE LIL MESSAGES W ONE OF HER SPIDERS AND ALSO AUDREY ENDS UP KINDA DEFECTING TO THE VOID ARMY FOR ARIA(MOSTLY BC THE LEADER OF HER SETTLEMENT GAVE UP BEING "CIVIL" AND STARTED HUNTING DOWN AUDREY(THE LEADERS SON WAS AUDREYS PREVIOUS LIFE AND INSTEAD OF HIS MOM TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR BEING PARTIALLY THE CAUSE OF HIS DEATH, BLAMES AUDREY) BUT ALSO BC OF ARIA) AND HAD THIS RLY RESPECTFUL RIVALRY BEFORE THE WHOLE "OH HUH. GUESS WE'D PROBABLY BE BETTER OFF NOT FIGHTING HUH" THING VDJKXCJKCSKHCSHKCSHKCSKH(WHICH, ID WRITTEN OUT YEARS AGO SO ITS WAY BELOW MY USUAL WRITING LEVEL BUT ILL PUT IT UNDER THE CUT AT THE END OF THIS)

3: EACH OF HER PAST LIVES IS A FULL CHARACTER, WITH THEIR OWN INFLUENCES ON HER MENTAL STATE IF SHE CHOOSES TO COMMUNICATE WITH THEM!!! HER HISTORY IS THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD ITSELF, AND YET SHE USUALLY REJECTS THIS HISTORY BECAUSE OF THE STATE OF THE WORLD SHES IN. OBVIOUSLY FOLLOWING WHAT THEY DID WONT HELP HER, AND SHE HAS A WHOLE HUGE ARC COMING TO TERMS WITH THE FACT THAT SHE CANT IGNORE AND HIDE EVERY PART OF HER BECAUSE THATS THE DEFINITION OF HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF!!! (WHICH IS BY ITSELF META OF THE CLASSIC ISSUE W STORIES LIKE THIS, WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER FEELS RELATIVELY STATIC, AND HOW MAYBE JUST ONCE THAT CAN BE THE CHARACTERS BAD CHOICE INSTEAD)

4: SHE HAS SO MANY FRIENDS!!! I MENTIONED WISP ALREADY, BUT SHES FRIENDS WITH A GOOD PORTION OF THE PEOPLE SHE HELPS. FOR EXAMPLE, A NYMPH WITCH IN TRAINING AND A DEER-MAN PAIR OF KIDS WHO ACCIDENTALLY CURSED EACH OTHER AND SHE HAS TO KEEP THEM FROM MAKING IT WORSE WHILE TEACHING THEM HOW TO UNDO CURSES, OR AN ANGEL AND DEMON COUPLE OF TROUBLEMAKERS SHE CAUSES CHAOS AND BREAKS UP MOBS WITH, OR A SMALL GROUP OF SELF PROCLAIMED PIRATES WHO NAVIGATE ABOVE THE VOID!!! THE CAST LITERALLY HAS HUNDREDS OF FULLY FLESHED OUT CHARACTERS WITH THEIR OWN ARCS, AND SHE TENDS TO TRY TO FIND ALLIES EVERYWHERE!!!

5: IN A SIMILAR VEIN, HER FAMILY!! DESPITE BEING VERY DIFFERENT, SHE GETS ALONG WONDERFULLY WITH THEM AND TENDS TO BE VERY AFFECTIONATE WITH HER SIBLINGS, ALTHOUGH SHE DOES HAVE TO KEEP THEM FROM GETTING INTO HER MORE DANGEROUS BUSINESS LOL BUT SHE CARES ABOUT THEM SO MUCH AND REALLY JUST TRIES TO KEEP THEM SAFE

IM TOO TIRED TO WRITE MORE RN IM GONNA PUT THAT WRITING UNDER THE CUT(ONCE AGAIN, OLD AS SHIT, NOT REPRESENTATIVE OF MY WRITING SKILL AND ALSO I WAS BAD AT PARAGRAPH BREAKS)

Audrey jumped behind a wall. What was that? She glanced behind the wall, checking to make sure that she wasn't seeing things, that the adrenaline hadn't gotten to her and it was real. And it was. An eagle hybrid, with lizard patternings and tails, and bat wings too. Tactically, it was a monster, and there would be very few ways to defeat it. She could slice the wings off, grounding it. But that wouldn't do.......... She shook her head. She should not have taken the sword this time. It hadn't even come in handy for the five minutes where she was fighting with.......... Aria! Where was she? Maybe she was her opponent, but she wasn't going to hope she fell to that beast. Or, well...... not a beast. The hybrid was clearly enraged, possibly through injections or some kind of pain stimulator. She stared at the sword in her hand, wondering how one of her previous lives ended up this analytic, before sheathing it. She didn't need the horrible, horrible interjections into her thoughts while hiding from that, and trying to find Aria. Based on her surprise, this hadn't been part of her plan. Which at least said something about her pride. Audrey wasn't sure what, but it said something.

She stood up, cautiously looking behind her at the hybrid. They were still enraged, and clearly looking for something. Ok. So avoid the hybrid's search while finding Aria and getting some answers about what the heck just happened. She didn't dare run or unfurl her wings, so she stuck to walking around the empty halls, avoiding the banging coming from the arena. In retrospect, the room probably was more of a makeshift arena then she'd realized originally, but she was sticking with the name. As she walked, she kept glancing at the walls. There were little things everywhere, from the surprisingly beautiful art and murals on some of the walls, to the lockers that had been dragged to the walls and leaned against them; decorated with stickers and old christmas lights and the occasional name tag. How had the entire city been convinced that the voided soldiers were unsavable? That their humanity was gone forever? Because here it was. It had so clearly never ever left.

She kept walking, until she passed a dark room with some level of noise coming from it. She could still hear the hybrid behind her, so this couldn't be it. She considered it being a trap or a trick of some kind for all of a second before she stepped in. Even with her wings folded against her back, they still created a glowing aura around her. Enough that she could at least see most of the room, and the cobwebs that covered the ceiling. And the black legs poking out of the darkness in the corner. And the spiders. And........ This was a cave. Aria lived in a cave. She approached the corner and saw Aria, face covered by her arms, sitting on the floor. From the twitch of her ears, she'd heard Audrey enter the room. Eventually she spoke.

"I know, Cresa, I know. I couldn't defeat her in time, and you had to release your experiment. Might as well get it over with. Which of my favorite spiders do you want to take this time? Are you gonna return them in one piece this time? Or will they be unrecognizable?" The spite in her voice was lethal, and Aria buried her head deeper. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude. I'm really sorry, I really am." The words were quick, and sounded more recited then genuine.

Audrey stood there before speaking. "Well, I'm not Cresa, and I don't know who she is. But if you don't want me to, I won't touch any of your spiders." Her voice was cautious, but as genuine as she could make it. She'd had time to cool down. She wasn't going to mock Aria again, especially not like this. Aria's head shot up, and her eyes met Audreys. There were tears in them. Lovely. Audrey had never been the best with emotions, and with the combination of the sword? What the heck was she supposed to do here?

Eventually she sat down next to Aria. She couldn't hear the hybrid anymore, although she wasn't sure if it was because of the humming or that it had just stopped. "So....... does "Cresa" take your spiders and hurt them a lot?" Aria gave her a look. She wasn't sure what it meant, but it was one. "Ok, first of all, I don't fail that often, and it's really rude that you're just assuming that. Second of all, yeah. Experiments of all sorts, from taking them and fusing them too other creatures, to messing with their consciousness, to just straight up killing them. Perks to being able to feel them and their feelings at all times are low." She let out a teary sigh as Audrey just sat there, thinking. "Well, why haven't you left? You don't have anything stopping you, you made it to the rock for the first five or so times we talked. And there are places, small as they are, that the Void can't reach."

Aria glanced at her, and held out a hand. "If you actually care, I could show you?" She started wiping away her tears with her other hand, as Audrey took her outstretched hand. "Of course I care. You're a person, and that means you should be listened to. Not always taken into consideration, but you seem nice enough when you aren't trying to stab or poison me." Aria giggled at that, and pulled Audrey after her. She was surprisingly strong and fast, and Audrey had to unfurl her wings to keep up with her as she ran down the hall, taking a few turns quicker then she could notice them. The route had to be muscle memory at this point. After a few turns, Audrey noticed how Aria was using her extra limbs to push off walls and gain momentum, making her faster then Audrey could be normally at the best of times. She made a mental note to try to do something similar. Eventually she stopped, using her legs to cause friction and slow down, meanwhile Audrey had to force her wings to close to not fly halfway down the hall.

"We're here. Be careful. Don't touch anything, please." Audrey was about to ask why, but as she got her balance back and looked up, it was obviously clear. The room was dark, but in color, not light. Huge carved stones with names, dates, and different statements and honors on each one stood in rows. Different colored gems with black streaks through them were inserted into the top of each stone. "It's your graveyard. Because the bodies are just liquid when voided ones die." Aria nodded and stepped inside, retracting her extra limbs and keeping her other ones at her side. Audrey followed her, doing the same. It was only respectful, and voided or not, it's what they deserved. Aria moved carefully to a specific grave, and touched the gem on the top of it. Audrey followed her, staying quiet.

"This is our graveyard because, as you said, when a voided dies, it just becomes void. But I'm not a voided. The hybrid wasn't a voided. None of the Luni here are voided. So instead of trinkets and weapons, they get a proper burial. And my mentor wasn't voided either." The gem started glowing, turning the roof of the grave transparent. A body, preserved by flowers and void, with a kind face and a stab wound through her stomach, was underneath it. "Daisy. She was bound to this place. Even if she didn't love what she had to do, she loved this place so much. When she took me under her wing, I promised to stay here. When she died........ from an attack, I was still going to stay. But things got worse. I was considering it for a while. But then I searched a little harder. And found her again. You can come out."

At Aria's prompt, a bright, sparkly ball of yellow light came out of the stab wound. "She became a spark", Audrey whispered, keeping her voice as quiet as she could. Aria nodded, smiling. "And if I left? She'd never be able to lift me up. She'd fail, and be caught in a loop. And I'd never want that to happen to her. She was my mentor, and made it so I didn't lose my powers. I owe her everything." The spark whirred around faster, clearly happy, before doing something resembling turning to Audrey. A noise that could be vaguely understood as a distorted "blorp" came out of it. Aria giggled, clearly happier now. "This is my........ this is Audrey. Audrey, say hi to Daisy. Daisy, blorp hi to Audrey." The spark complied, as did Audrey, who reached out to touch it. The spark shied away, back into the casket. Aria sighed. "Unless you want to pass out from electrocution, I would refrain from touching it. I had to learn that the hard way."

Audrey pulled her hand back. "So, how are we going to deal with the eagle hybrid? We need to stop them before we can do anything else, or else they're gonna become a problem real quick." Almost as if on cue, the noise grew louder. Much louder. Aria began adding webs to the corners of the room frantically, right as the roof around the doorway collapsed. The hybrid rose from the rubble, and rushed at Audrey, who used her wings to fly above it. Aria had finished the supporting cobwebs, and extended her extra limbs, beginning to move around the room slowly and calculatingly. The hybrid turned to her, and tried to ram her, before Audrey dropped on them as quickly as possible. It plowed into the ground, unlodging an empty grave and a light blue gem. Audrey winced. "Sorry!" Aria shook her head. "It was empty! Don't worry, just focus on getting it out of here!"

Audrey nodded, and flew off it, flying to the collapsed doorway. The hybrid ran at her, charging again. "The same move? Really?" She sprang up, leading it to run right under her. Unlike last time though, it gained its footing, and ran down the hall, using its tail to grab and bring Audrey with it. She brought her wings in to avoid extra pain, and looked behind her. Aria was following her, using her legs like before. Eventually, about halfway through the original route, she caught up, grabbing Audrey's hand and using her legs to create enough friction to pull her out of it. The hybrid realized she was missing soon, and turned back around as she and Aria gained their balance. It stood in front of them, trying to figure out who to attack. Aria went on the offensive. "I know how Cresa does these! There should be something, probably a syringe, around the wings. I'll slow it down, you chop it off. You've got that sword, and that'll easier then hoping to get it out and not knowing if it's still injecting." Audrey nodded, opening her wings and unsheathing her sword.

Ok, it would be easiest to dive under its wings while distracted. She never thought she'd appreciate the tactical thoughts, but here she was. She took off, flying around and waiting for the perfect moment. The hybrid ran at her, and she moved to the side at the last moment, and it hit the wall. Before it could grab her, Aria covered it in thin cobwebs. Audrey dove under its exposed wing, but didn't see anything like a syringe. She flew out and shook her head. "Let it out, and let it ram on its other side." Aria drew back. "I don't think I need to let it out." Audrey looked behind her, only to be rammed into the wall by the hybrid. Her wings protected most of her body, but they took quite a beating. The hybrid fell to the ground, and she managed to fly over it, before falling to the ground. Aria grabbed her sword before she could stop her, chopped off the syringe, and dropped it, shaking her hand and covering it in spiderwebs, before starting to move Audrey. She tried to complain, but then her eyes closed, and everything went black.

She woke up in Aria's room, on a platform of cobwebs. It was even darker in there then the last time, as she got to her feet. She tried to unfurl her wings, make it a little lighter in there, but her wings were bandaged tightly, both with actual bandages, and with cobwebs layered thickly on top of them. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel something in the room. In a second she felt six arms, four of which were sharper then normal, wrapping around her torso in a hug. "Oh thank Void! You're alive and ok! And guess what! Cresa didn't even find you! She would have probably used you in one of her experiments, but she didn't and you're ok!" Audrey was more then a little surprised, and broke the hug quickly. "Sorry. I was just so happy that you were still alive. The only way I even knew you were alive was because you weren't ash yet." It was definitely Aria. And she was way more affectionate then before.

"How long was I passed out for? And why are you so huggy?" Aria was silent for a bit, before speaking. "About twelve hours. I've been up for a while. I think you might need to be going." Audrey gulped and nodded, trying to take the bandages off her wings. Then she felt Aria take them off, unwrapping them carefully. "You had something in a few hours when we fought. I hope it isn't too late now." Audrey sighed, before unfurling them and getting a good look at Aria's face. She had bags under her eyes and was literally shaking. "Aria, did you really not sleep the entire time I was out? You really need to!" Aria shook her head. "Nope. I did not. I was too worried." Audrey sighed. "Why? And, before you answer that, get some sleep. I have to go. Now." The sadness in her voice was unavoidable, and Aria's shoulders slumped. But she listened, staying quiet and laying down on the cobweb platform, probably meant to be a makeshift mattress. Audrey crouched down and ran a wing along her back, before exiting the room.

She flew through the hall, pushing off against the walls to gain momentum, and eventually reached the arena. The hole in the roof was still there. She flew out it quickly, and began heading for the light blue dome on the horizon. Only when she was halfway there did she realize that she'd left her sword behind. And it hadn't been in the hallway. But she shrugged it off. Aria had probably just taken it. Using her cobwebs. Her very flammable cobwebs. Yeah. That was it. Sure. She just had to hope that Wisp wasn't too mad at her.

----------------------------- Back In The Hall ---------------------------

Cresa picked up the sword, her hand turning melty as she held it. Interesting. She knew those runes well. The void would find this very interesting. If she was lucky, it would even spare her from having to dole out punishment to Aria and Ayla and whatever the hybrid was named. She didn't know which one had escaped. But based on how much destruction each had caused, that would be unlikely. At least she could hide Aria's new...... friend from the void. That would be enough to count today a win, if she could achieve that much for her.

ROUND 1, SIDE A, POLL 2

Onya ( @god-mouths ) VS. Audrey June ( @cantdanceflynn )

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( art by god-mouths )

What is your baby's name? Pronouns?: Onya (she/her)

Is your baby from a fandom or original?: started out as a toh but this is an oc baby now :)

How old is your baby?: 8

Tell us about your baby!: Onya lives in a foster home with ~6 other siblings! She as the baby of the family is very pampered by her Ma. she is a very business minded toddler, and can broker a deal with the best of them. Negotiated for a higher wage for her uncle simon (35). loves magic, loves centipedes and bugs.

Anything else you want to add?: she is silly!!!

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( art from this picrew )

What is your baby's name? Pronouns?: Audrey June, All pronouns but prefers She/Her

Is your baby from a fandom or original?: Completely original

How old is your baby?: 16

Tell us about your baby!: She's a Phoenix, in human(or, in this life, werewolf) form. While she can technically access the memories of her past lives through items that represent their lives, she prefers not to, as she doesn't like them affecting her thoughts. While she technically is disguised as a werewolf(has some traits, although has trouble passing around normal werewolves), she was adopted by a rabbit hybrid couple. And also bc I hadn't mentioned her whole story takes place in a post-apocalyptic world where a void god has taken over 99.99% of the world, aliens basically controlled by the void god rule the areas taken over by the void god, and the rest of humanity, all in small settlements or individuals shielded from the void god, have been with mythical creatures and cryptids and whatnot for so long that basically everyone is a combination of some mythical creatures genes. She has a best friend in a Banshee hybrid(and one of the few rare magic users) named Wisp, even if she had to turn down their romantic advances. She ends up spending most of her time either breaking up fights in her settlement, one of the few big ones left, or tutoring hybrids that are having trouble or in trouble, but she tends to take secret flights and hang out around bowling alleys and arcades to chill out.

Anything else you want to add?: She's basically my oldest oc, having gone through so many changes, but I love her more then anything. She didn't sign up for this, she just wants a good life w her family and friends, but living in the state the world is in means plans don't stay

#VOID CREATURES #IM PRETTY SURE IVE NEVER RLY POSTED ANYTHING OFFICIAL BOUT IT SO THATS MY FIRST TIME USING THAT TAG LOL

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