#tw; implied death

[loyaltylanced]

1010 words under the cut. Small warning for the brief, implied death of a child.

" Why am I here, again? "

" Well... You are the weigher of souls, sir. "

" She's a child. She hasn't lived long enough to damn herself to hell. "

The child in question is quickly lifted up, held close. It's -- not quite upsetting, it happens all the time, but rather -- somber, every time he has to do this. One little life, cut so short. She seems entranced by everything, the vivid greenery, the nature around them, and there's something so innocent in it that Michael has to find the amusement in it.

He shoots the other angel a stern look, regardless.

" You can easily be replaced. Don't bother me with something so trivial again. "

The petrified look on his face is almost satisfying.

He steps away then, starts in and toward the countless doors that line the hallways. An idle wave of his hand, some long-forgotten motion that's more of a reflex, and another appears at the end of their walk. For her part, the child is quiet, finding whatever little thing grabs her attention. Babbling softly to herself, perhaps trying to make sense of this.

What a curious thing it must be. She'd barely had time to make sense of her world, and now -- well, adults can barely comprehend the sweet hereafter. He cannot imagine what it's like for a child.

He sets her down, kneels down to her level. " Is there anything you've always wanted? Something you've always wanted to be? To do? "

She ponders this. " I wanna be a dragon, " she whispers, as if it's some big secret; as if her mortal identity hangs in the balance.

To his credit, Michael hums in thought. " What kind of dragon? "

" Big and strong. Strong enough to protect the kingdom! " She's beaming, clapping her small hands together gleefully.

Oh.

" I'm sure you'll be the strongest dragon there is, " he assures. It's a relatively simple ask, a little reality warping here and there. A small smile turns the corner of his lips, and he leans in, matches her enthusiasm. " Would you like to breathe fire? "

She gasps, delighted.

" Yeah! And I wanna fly, like you! "

A glance to his own wings, then. A brief movement, almost a flutter, and a raised eyebrow at her. She giggles, nodding.

" Like that! "

" I think I can arrange that. " He looks up to the door, smiles almost wistfully. He stands, a palm presses against the cold steel. A beat of concentration, a glow around his hand, and he looks back down to her. She's taken to clinging to his leg, attention rapt on the door.

" Whoa. Are you magic? "

" Something like that. " She looks at him, suspicious.

" Like a witch? " He has to stop the snort of amusement. Oh, if only she knew.

" I suppose. But not like the wicked witches in fairytales, the good kind. " She seems to accept that.

" Like the fairy godmother! "

He does snort, this time. It's quiet, and she seems not to notice. " Are you ready? " He lifts her again, gestures to the door with his head.

" Are my mama and daddy gonna be there? " She's so quiet, tentative, and his heart would break if the archangel had one.

" In time. Do you think you can keep the kingdom safe until they arrive? " She brightens, as if given a task akin to Atlas. She nods, very seriously, and it's almost amusing how her head looks like it's about to pop off her shoulders.

" Uh huh! I'll be so brave! "

" I know you will. " It's quiet, soothing, and he steps over the threshold with her. It's like stepping into a scene from a storybook; all bright colors and whimsy, castles and knights on horses. A gloomy forest, dreary, and yet -- still that fairytale feel. Her eyes light up.

" This is just like in the book Mama used to read to me! "

" I'm glad, " he murmurs. There's always something so imaginitive about someone's personal heaven; something so human. It's so simple to appease her, and he supposes he shouldn't be surprised -- after all, not a day ago her biggest worry in her life had been whether or not her parents would read her one more book before she went to sleep.

And yet.

" Dragons live in castles. "

She's looking pointedly at his wings, enraptured and curious in the same note. A chuckle, and Michael readjusts her in his arms. " Is that right? " They move of their own accord, spread like he's going to take flight. He will, but he's giving her the warning.

She's absolutely giddy.

Angel flight is usually instantaneous, but he allows her to take the lead, explore the fanciful world that she's created. It has its own charm, and she seems pleased enough with it. She tugs at his wing, much like the rein on a horse, and he lands down on the top of the castle.

" You can always change things if you like, you know. Forever is a long time to be a dragon. "

She considers this.

" Yeah, but that's okay. " A tilt of his head. " When I wanna be something else, I'll just call you! "

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that's not how it works. He nods instead, thoughtfully.

She looks down, serious, like she's picked up on it. " -- You'll come back, right? When you bring Mama and Daddy? "

The nod is much more decisive this time.

" When they're ready. " She looks unconvinced, for a moment, and he supposes he can't blame her -- it will be years and years before either of her parents join her. Such is the frailty of life. " I promise. In the meantime -- " A glance around, exaggerated, that same reassuring smile returning to his face. " I think this castle could use a dragon. "

She's practically bouncing on her feet, that childish excitement over getting to be the dragon in the storybook overtaking her once again.

" I'm ready! "

It's simple, the boop of his finger to her nose; and as she starts to sprout wings, Michael takes that as his cue to leave. This is not his story to play out, after all.

[sailing-ever-west]

the trolley problem vs. systemic oppression: a comic.

[trustymikh]

there are many benefits to being a ground-type pokemon trainer

[bamsara]

Some Finor doodles + her reference page for her artfight

[corpseprxnce]

Sometimes I'm so proud of myself for the progress I've made and sometimes I want to bash my skull in with a hammer.

[u3pxx]

my comic for @aabadendingzine which is out for free over here.

extra stuff/commentary under the cut | like what i do? support me on ko-fi 💙

helloooo how's it going? i really hope you enjoyed the comic <3 it's rare for me to draw such wholesome things, i know [bats eyelashes]

DFGHDJKF ok i know, it's evil, the entire zine is evil you should go read it!!!!!!! but also, i remember coming up with this prompt and the image of mikeko trying to wake a dead apollo up evoked such a visceral reaction in me that i audibly went "NOOOOOO" when i thought it up LOL

the fourth page is the first page i ever thumbnailed bc i knew EXACTLY how i wanted this thing to end!

i think my favorite page of this comic is the 2nd page (the 4th page being my second favorite bc what can i say, i'm evil wheezes) i just really enjoyed drawing the montage of apollo going about his life and kristoph just. being there. always watching him.

i keep thinking about how spark brushel mentioned feeling like he was being watched those past 7 years. i imagined apollo would get a taste of that once he starts trying to find out the truth behind what happened in his first case.

and as for my favorite panel, I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE!! it's just fun shoving every important element alluding to the case 7 years ago to the moment when zak died!

and it's not very obvious but an element i really like about this one is zak still on the chair he died on. it's just his torso visible and i would've loved to make it more obvious that he's there but oh well.

i can't think of anything else to add about drawing this so i'll end it by saying: PLEASE GO READ THE ZINE, IT'S SO SOS SOSOSOS FULL OF LOVE FOR HURT AND TRAGEDY AND THE WAY MY FELLOW ZINEMATES EXPLORED THAT IS SUCH!!! GOOD AND HEARTWRENCHING STUFF!!!!!!!!!

i had to take a break from reading the zine when i went out to finish it bc my chest started to physically hurt bc ohhhhh lordy, it just hurt. it just hurt a lot! (please do read the trigger warnings before reading the thing bc this zine deals with a lot of heavy stuff!)

i like to joke about how i'm evil and enjoy evil things such as angst no comfort which. well, it's kind of true LMAO so i'm thrilled that i was able to be a part of this zine and cook up something completely terrible <3

here's the link for it again, go read it!

[emthimofnight]

Reoccurring nightmares

[kaysdenofchaos]

can you see them where you are now? they're pretty. i hope you're seeing them too

[just-qonika]

"i really, loved the literature club."

id like to think after monikas "deleted" this is how it feels to look back on everything that happened; she has a guilty conscience once she realizes how far everything got taken, and how bad it really was.

ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵏᵃ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ˢᵒ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳⁱᶻᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᴴᵁᴿᵀˢ :⁽ ˢʰᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵛⁱˡ ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ

[reagi-df]

Bifractured time branch

CW blood implied death

Not matter what you do, sometimes you can’t save everyone

Kinda follow on of this

[alasion-art]

🐻

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.

[lilbitosunny]

I still have need of you.

Lore, notes, textless version of the last page and close-ups under the cut

Anyways- Lore dump of how this Lamb went out and her thoughts/behavior during the decapitation. Decided to make her angry and fight back against the bishops even to her slaughter

My art peaked with that final page, btw- Here's a no text version and some close-ups!

[hatekawa]

I left a spot for you, just in case.

[tracklessreason]

No shade to innocent B-127 headcanons, but I prefer my Bee painfully optimistic in a way that seems naive, if only because no one has asked what his time in Sublevel 50 was like to realize he gives the benefit of the doubt for his own safety/mental health.

Bee spent most of his life on a sublevel most bots don't know exist. Sentinel wouldn't hide another 10 levels unless some shady shit was going on down there.

Like, say, disposing of anyone who found out the heinous reality of your leadership? It's a furnace after all. What better way to hide a body than to send it down to the level people don't know exists, to be melted into an unrecognizable mess of molten metal?

Dead mechs have rolled down that conveyor belt into the flames. Bee chooses to believe they passed of natural causes. Living alone like that, your friends put together from scraps...there's no room to let the natural conclusions weigh on you. You wouldn't last long that way. Bee knows that better than anyone. There used to be another worker down there with him.

Living bots have rolled down that conveyor belt into the flames.

[kishdoodles]

Spring

'What if Renchanting duo were the last two left' AU (with a Jesus Christ Superstar coat of paint)