time-keepers-blade

[time-keepers-blade]

The Decoy, The Young God

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of mass casualties and suicide. This is another long one so I'm putting a break.

The room sat silent for a moment, two figures staring at each other. A look of rage one on man’s face, a look of disinterest on the young god’s face. Evan eventually spoke up again, the venom of his rage evident in his voice. “Why the fuck would HABIT choose you to be the decoy? What– because we were close?”

Damyano tilts his head, the white curls framing his face falling aside with the tilting motion. He purses his lips for a moment before speaking. “Were we? Last I remember, you were shoving me towards the Operator and running. Not something a friend would do, no?”

Evan shakes his head slowly, his face contorting further in his anger as he sucks in a breath. “I didn’t fuckin’ shove you at that thing, don’t try to twist this shit. You–”

Damyano cuts him off with a sudden chuckle, his shoulders gently shaking with the movement. His chuckles quickly devolve into genuine laughter as he laughs in Evan’s face. Evan snaps at him, crossing several feet in a few seconds until he’s right in Damyano’s face, eye to eye with the newly revealed god.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny, huh?! Think I’m trying to be funny here?”

Damyano’s giggles slowly die out, and he looks Evan in the eye, a boyish smile on his face. “You thought the Operator would hurt me, right? Isn’t that why you ran from it when it showed up?” He tilts his head to the side again, mirroring HABIT”s mannerisms in a scarily accurate manner. He then lifts a hand, pointing a finger directly up. Before Evan can retort, the light above them explodes with a loud pop, sending the room into darkness.

Evan can be heard profusely cursing in his surprise, but only seconds later, he coughs and sputters, his oxygen suddenly cut short from his throat as Damyano’s hand grips his neck tightly. His hands attempt to claw at Damyano’s hand, only receiving another giggle from him. 

Through the dark, two glowing eyes, shining red, can be seen. Then, a small fire can be seen floating right in front of the two. Evan’s eyes land on the floating ball of fire with surprise and fear, he chokes out a weak “What the fuck” as Damyano loosens his grip and speaks up again.

‘The Operator has no reason to hurt one of its own. Why do you think I never ran from it?’

Evan sputters, taking deep gulps of air in, his head suddenly flushing with dizziness as he hyperventilates. Damyano continues, the ball of fire extending and stretching upwards and outwards until it begins to dance around them like a ribbon floating in water. 

“I was the decoy because nobody suspected me. I also happen to be–how should I say this…”

The dancing fire suddenly sparks out before becoming much more than a sliver of fire, a ring of fire encircling the two men’s feet in a bright and hot show. It is suddenly evident to Evan that they’re no longer in his basement. The smell of burning grass hits his nose, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, taking a shaky breath in as Damyano suddenly lets him go. When Evan opens his eyes again, he can see where they’ve moved to. They’re in a clearing nestled into a wooded area, the full moon illuminating the surroundings clearly. The ring of fire at their feet suddenly expands outward, climbing up until there’s a roaring wall of fire encircling them.

Damyano finishes his sentence. “I happen to be capable of a few fun tricks. A pryokenetic, if you will.”

Evan takes a few footsteps away from Damyano, his eyes full of fear as he watches the god. “W-what the fuck- what- I- Huh??” 

Damyano just smiles at him, the fire casting a warm orange hue over his face, his hair glowing in the light, casting a halo around the crown of his head. He watches Evan in his confusion for a moment before deciding to speak.

“Wanna see something cool?”

Evan very frantically shakes his head, not daring to speak, sweat forming over his skin from the heat in the air. Damyano pulls a fake pout before shrugging, smiling wide at him again. “Too bad!”

Then, with a loud woosh of air and a sudden burst of coldness over Evan’s skin, they’re in a different place again. There’s a loud creaking from behind Evan and he spins on his heel, his eyes surveying his new surroundings. They’re now in a wide, empty grass field. Evan quickly spots the source of the creaking: a single, lone oak tree, pitch black and bare of leaves, reaching tall into the sky, towering over the two. The tree is covered in several bronze plaques, tacked into the tree with writings in an odd, foreign code. 

Evan hears Damyano approach him from behind, and before he can react, he feels the other man shoving him forward by the shoulder, forcing him closer to the tree. Evan stumbles a bit, angrily jerking his shoulder away from Damyano’s grasp. He spins to look at him, his brows furrowed. 

“What the fuck are you?!”

Damyano tilts his head with a smile before shrugging. “I guess I’m like HABIT, in a way. Some kind of creature, or demon, or god.”

He then steps around Evan, stalking his way towards the tree. Evan’s gaze follows him, his eyes squinting in suspicion at him. Damyano lifts his hand and points a single finger at a plaque that was tacked low onto the giant tree’s base. He looks back at Evan with a smile as he reads off the words. 

“1910, Idaho, Montana, Washington. Over three million acres.”

He then moves his finger to point at another plaque.

“1894. Minnesota. Estimated two-hundred-thousand acres.”

He points to yet another plaque, the gears in Evan’s head slowly turning until the young god speaks again. “1881. Michigan. Over a million acres.”

Evan then speaks up, the dots having connected finally. “Those are all major fires. Like, historically.”

Damyano happily nods, dropping his hand back down to rest by his side. “Yup!” He pushes an emphasis over the ‘p’, his smile widening as he tilts his head. Evan sucks in a breath before speaking again. “What are you saying? You saying they’re all connected or…”

As Evan speaks, Damyano straightens his head, slowly lifting a hand and pointing a finger under his chin as he nods, encouraging Evan to continue. He does, with a much more concerned tone in his voice. “Did…Did you– Are you what started all those giant fires?”

Damyano nods again, dropping his hand once more. He takes a small step forward, only moving a few inches closer to Evan. “Yup again. Every major historical fire, up until nineteen-thirty-two. Everything after that was HABIT’s doing. Partially in honor of the old me.”

Evan furrows his brows again, a confused look returning to his face. “Old you? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Damyano suddenly lifts a hand and snaps his fingers, another loud rush of air filling Evan’s ears as their surroundings rapidly blur and bend, then they’ve suddenly returned to his basement, all of the lights now back on. Evan’s head spins for a second, and when he regains his composure, Damyano is right in front of him, only a few inches separating the two. 

He jumps back, crashing into one of his many exercise machines. He grunts from the sudden burst of pain in his back, and Damyano speaks again. 

“I’m not as old as HABIT is. I was, at one point, the same age as him. But, I ended up dying in thirty-two. Came back in ninety-two and now I’m here.”

Evan takes a moment, his brain struggling to process everything that just happened to him. When he comes out on the other side of the confusion tunnel, he speaks.

“Wait, so–you guys–gods–can die?”

Damyano purses his lips as he thinks before responding. “Temporarily. And only in specific ways. I died by suicide. I took a dagger and–”

He mimics gripping an object with both of his fists before violently shoving his fists into the middle of his stomach and roughly dragging it to the right a few inches. He then drops his hands back down to his sides, looking at Evan with a more neutral expression on his face. 

“I was the God of Knowlege, that’s another reason HABIT chose me as the decoy. I’m not, anymore, but a lot of that is still up here.”

He taps on his temple with a knuckle, looking Evan up and down for a second before dropping his hand with a sigh. “That’s about as much as I can tell you, I’m afraid. Don’t want to spoil the big surprise, HABIT worked real hard for it. But–you can expect an interesting phone call in about–” 

Damyano suddenly shoves his hand into the pocket of his shorts, pulling his flipphone out. He flips it open and checks the time before looking back up at Evan. 

“--Three hours. I’ll see you after that!”

He then turns away and speedwalks up the basement steps, leaving Evan in his confusion to a silent basement.

[time-keepers-blade]

The Interrogation

This is long af so I'm putting a cut here lol

((TRIGGER WARNING: Reality manipulation))

Evan stared from across the table, his scrutinizing stare boring into his roommate. Damien stared back, silent and unhappy. The camera nestled on the tripod at the edge of the table recorded their interaction, a lone red light indicating that the footage was rolling. The air was thick with a palpable tension, the two men glaring holes into each other’s foreheads. 

Evan spoke up again, his hands gripping over the edge of the notebook he’d been clutching for the last several hours of his interrogation of Damien. “I’ll ask this again. What do you know about the tree guy?”

Damien tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck with a slight grimace. “I already told you, I’on’t know shit. I’on’t know why it’s followin’ y’all.” He rests his hands on the table, his knuckles flexing beneath his skin as he balls his fists.

Evan rolls his eyes, knocking his head back as he rubs his hands over his face, rubbing angrily. He brings his head back down as he leans in, resting all of his weight over his arms over the table. He glares back at Damien again. “Clearly, you have to know something. It didn’t start leaving those weird ass clues until you pointed it out at the park.”

Damien raises an eyebrow, chuffing and turning his head to the side, glancing into the walkway that lead to the front door.

He then turns his head to look back at Evan, a small, disbelieving smile on his face.

“You think I’m the reason for the thing showin’ up? You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Damien then unfurls his hands, splaying them flat against the table as he leans in, lowering his head and tilting it to the side as he stares into Evan’s eyes. His smile drops into an unamused frown.

“That thing is leavin’ clues for you and the others, not me. Ain’t you noticed that none of them clues ever address me?”

Evan squints his eyes at Damien, pulling away from the other man and leaning back in his chair, his hands drag the notebook closer to the edge of the table, against his stomach.

“That evil ass look on your face isn’t helping your case, buddy.”

He then opens the notebook to a particular page, ripping a slip of thick carded paper out of its sleeve and sliding it across the table, landing just in front of Damien. The man in question the plucks the strange paper off the table, reading the odd writing.

Even pipes up again, “This is the only clue written in that weird ass writing. You said yourself you studied a bunch of old languages, why don’t you tell me if you recognize any of those symbols?”

Damien raises his eyes from the paper to glance up at Evan, his face still baring the unamused expression. He takes the paper between two fingers and flicks it forward, the paper landing just centimeters away from the edge of the notebook in front of Evan.

“Don’t look like nothin’ I know of. Why you assumin’ I know more than I’m lettin’ on?”

Evan plucks the paper up with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. He slaps it down onto the notebook before closing the book and sliding it to the side. He then turns his attention back to Damien.

“Because you’re the only one none of us know anything about. Ever since Sam and Nate went back to Mississippi , you’ve been all isolated and shit. You could’a went back with them, why’d you stay here?”

Damien fires back without hesitation, an audible snap in his tone. “I told you, I ain’t goin’ back to that shithole. Besides, Zak asked me to help out as best I could. I’m only doin’ what I was told.”

Evan drops his head into his hands, rubbing his hands over his face frustratedly. He drops his hands with an audible thud against the table. “Zak, the dude who studied mythology and has a therapy license. He asked you to help us with..what- playing detective, tryna figure out what the stick man wants?”

Damien nods his head, seemingly agreeing with Evan’s disbelief.

“I’on’t know why he wanted me to help, I’on’t think I’m useful here, either.”

Evan leans his head against his palm, his elbow digging into the table as he stared at Damien.

“How do we know Zak isn’t inciting that thing somehow?”

“What, you think the friendly therapist who cain’t hurt a fly is instigatin’ the Slenderman wannabe?”

“I’m saying you and Zak are both extremely suspicious people-“

“Suspicious how?”

Damien narrows his eyes at Evan, crossing his arms over the table, his head tilting to the other side. He stares, waiting for Evan’s ever-so-intelligent response. Evan seems to struggle for his words for a moment, fidgeting with the notebook in a nervous manner. He then stumbles over his words.

“I-I… I dunno, I can’t put my finger on it. Both of you are just…too calm with all this.”

Damien’s back straightens, he puts his hands in a clasped position on the table just in front of himself. He tilts his head down as he stared at Evan. He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“Too calm?”

Evan doesn’t respond, taking a gulp of air in his anxiety. Something in the air has shifted, and Evan suddenly feels as though he’s pushed a button he shouldn’t have. Damien’s face seems to darken, the shadows casted by the harsh light above the two men seeming to grow longer, the air in the room becoming suddenly hotter.

Damien doesn’t move, but the shadows around him do. The shadows in the corners seem to reach out, clawing against the walls like barren branches on a long-dead tree, reaching out for Damien. Evan can feel sweat beginning to form on his skin as he locks eyes with a very still, frowning Damien.

Then Damien speaks, and Evan has the gut-wrenching sense of something being terribly wrong.

“I ain’t the one bein’ hunted, am I? I ain’t the one who drove all the way to Pensyl-fuckin’Vania searchin’ for some burnt down buildin’ am I?”

Damien slowly tilts his head to the side, the shadows engulfing the wall behind him and beginning to cloud over the corners of Evan’s vision. His expression changes, becoming much more flat and motionless.

He speaks with a monotone voice. “I ain’t pokin’ my nose where it shouldn’t be goin’. I’m jus’ mindin’ my business, goin’ to work, doin’ the chores, helpin’ t’keep the house standin’. If you wanna accuse me of havin’ fault for your missin’ friends, jus’ know I ain’t gonna have that. I got no involvement in your lil’ rabbit fodder.”

Evan sucks in a ragged breath, his body suddenly warning him of the extreme temperature difference in the room. Evan feels as though he’s locked in his own skin, unable to move a muscle. He feels genuinely afraid, and for a moment, his brain tells him that something is wrong with Damien, that he can’t be a normal person.

Damien smiles a small, mischievous smile at him, as if he could read the fear on Evan’s face.

“Zak and I both mind our business. We both live our lives, seperate from y’all’s spooky paranormal bullshit.”

Something glints in Damien’s eyes, a small flash of color, contrasting against his usual dark brown irises. A flash of red, much similar to the red light on the camera pointed at the two men. The shadows seem to blend into Damien’s black curls, billowing around his jaw and curling around his neck. 

There’s sweat trailing down the side of Evan’s face, running from his temple down to his jaw. He feels as though he can’t breathe, and he struggles just to swallow. It’s so hot suddenly, he feels as though he’s been hit in the face with a wave of heat, like he opened the oven door to check on the roast he’d been cooking inside.

His hands twitch against the notebook, wanting desperately to swipe the sweat off of his neck and face, his body screams at him to move, get up, run, but he can’t seem to connect his body to his brain. He can’t move, he can only stare at Damien as the other man’s appearance seems to sharpen and change within the overbearing shadows.

The walls feel like they’re bowing inwards, threatening to cover Evan, trap in him in the darkness and the heat. The table feels much less solid beneath his hands, he feels his knees knock against each other as though he fighting to stand up. 

Damien continues speaking.

“If you wanna know, so badly, what’s on that paper, why don’t you ask the big man himself, huh? Go on up to him, hold it up like a lil’ present, and ask him-“

Damien raises his hands, making a quotation motion with his fingers.

“ ‘Hey, stick-in-the-mud, what’s all this? You got a code somewhere, som’n we can use t’decipher all’o’this?’ “

Damien drops his hands, his smile widening as he chuckles to himself, shaking his head distastefully at Evan.

“You and your lil’ detective buddies got a lot of fuckin’ nerve, y’know that? Y’all just point fingers at anybody y’all cain’t understand. Just b’cuz I’m guarded and I’on’t tell y’all everything about myself don’t mean I’m some kinda monster.”

His smile drops as he sighs, his hands tracing odd little shapes into the wood of the table, he tilts his head and rests his cheek against his palm. 

“I’m just as confused as y’all are. I’on’t know anythin’, either. I ain’t pleased that the fucker broke into our house, feels like we ain’t got nowhere that’s safe. But that don’t mean I’m ok with y’all comin’ for my throat, tryna accuse me of shit.”

The shadows suddenly retract into themselves, returning to their corners and away from the two men. The room feels lighter, breezier, more open again. Damien holds his position, still staring at Evan, his expression slowly changing to one of concern. He tilts his head off of his palm, eyeing Evan warily.

“Dude? Are…are you ok..?”

Evan suddenly shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands frantically wipe over his face, feeling none of the sweat that he swears was just there. He then rubs at his eyes rather harshly before blinking up at Damien, a horrified expression on his face. He’s suddenly panting, his hands shaking.

“W-what the fuck. How- how’d you do that?”

His voice is frantic and scared, but Damien just furrows his brows at him, a look of genuine worry on his face.

“Do what, dude? I just said I’on’t know what’s on that paper. What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?”

Evan abruptly stands from the table, back the chair away from the table until its bumping into the kitchen bar counter behind him. He breathes in deep and heavily before looking over at the camera. The red light is off. Or, was it ever even on? He looks back at Damien, true fear in his eyes.

“What are you?”

Damien just looks up at him, a look of confusion and slight insult gracing his features. “Um….like- ethnically, or…?”

Evan shakes his head, lifting a finger to point accusingly at Damien. “No. What are you, because you’re not human. There’s no way. What the fuck was that?”

Damien blinks up at him. “What was what?”

Evan huffs out an exasperated laugh. “Y’know what, I’m just gonna- I’ll just leave. I’ll just go- um- take, like, a shower, or something. I think all this questioning is getting to me.”

He turns away, making his way around the table. He’s nearly out of the kitchen area when he pauses and turns to glance at Damien.

“Um…I-I’m sorry for..assuming you knew about the symbols. Sorry I’ve been a bit of an ass…”

Damien gently shakes his head, a soft frown on his face as he looks concerned for his roommate’s sanity.

“Dude, I get it, shit’s gettin’ weird. Go take a shower, I’ll make sure all th’doors are locked.”

Evan sighs shakily before nodding and turning on his heel. He’s up the steps in seconds, bounding into his room, seeking comfort in his personal space.

[time-keepers-blade]

The droning echoes of the car’s engine were the only noises heard in the vehicle. Save for the occasional sniffle, the shuffling of fabric, the crinkling of paper, the sounds of soft breathing. The four college-aged adults lent their banter and ribbings to the sun, and as it went down, so too did the energies in the car.  

In the front seat, driving, was Raylin, though she fought to keep her eyes fully open and her wrists begged for a rest. Sat next to her was Nathaniel, dubbed as the “chief navigator” by Damien (who currently sat slumped over against the car door in the backseat.) Nate’s eyes were constantly darting from the paper map sprawled out across the dash and in his lap, to the road, the signs, the few and far buildings. He was the most situationally aware in their group, a beast at back-road navigation. 

In the backseat, both slumped onto their respective car doors, are the troublesome duo: Damien and Zakariah. Better known as “Dusty and Zak, the 10-year-olds trapped in young-adult bodies”.  

Just beyond the car’s glass, the view of darkened trees and a black sky lulled the quartet of students to slumber. 

The drive was long, each member of the group taking their respective turns behind the wheel in increments to allow each person some sleep. After countless restroom stops and gas fill-ups, plus the occasional bite at a random fast-food place tucked just off the closest exit, Nate’s old green Tahoe turned its tires around the curb leading into the Princeton Airport. With Ray driving and Nate scanning the parking lot for an empty space, the car was parked after only a short drive-around. Ray pushed the gearshift into park and immediately threw her arms up, bracing against the ceiling of the car in a strange sort of stretch. She groaned as her back popped in segments, sighing as she unbuckled herself and grabbed for the door handle. Nate qroggily pushed open the passenger door and stepped out, stretching his back as far as it would go as soon as his foot met the ground.  

Ray busied herself with grabbing her makeup bag from the back of the car and digging for her hairbrush, while Nate tapped on the glass of the back passenger door, attempting to wake Zak. Zak slowly roused, groggily making eye contact with Nate before scanning his surroundings, recognizing the undeniable airport parking lot. He leaned forward, stretching his arms past the shoulder of the passenger seat in front of him before twisting around to pop his back. He then leaned over the pile of snacks and blankets next to him to gently shake Damien’s shoulder.  

Damien quickly roused with a start before relaxing upon seeing Zak, then got straight to stretching, twisting his head and back in attempt to pop out all tension.  

Eventually, the quartet was out of the car and on the crosswalk leading up to the airport’s front doors. Ray hopped onto a call with her pen-pal of several months, the owner of the house the quartet would be moving into. Damien and Zak immediately took to searching for the nearest bathroom while Nate trailed behind with Ray, listening in on the phone call to see where to meet the house owner. Within 30 minutes, after all four members of the friend group were properly cleaned up and full of snacks, they approached a trio of men resting in chairs in the airport lobby. Ray was the first to pipe up, greeting the trio by their YouTube channel’s name: EveryManHYBRID. 

[time-keepers-blade]

Here's a little drabble I couldn't get outta my head ft. my EverymanHYBRID OC.

Damien plucked at the loose threads poking from the seams of his hoodie, head cocked to the side as he stared inquisitively at Vincent. The two men were awkwardly posted in Evan’s kitchen, conversing in the late hours, long after their fellow friends decided to turn in for the night, returning to their respective homes.  

“What'd'ya mean, you think som'mn’s wrong with Evan?” 

“I mean, he just—I dunno--isn’t acting like himself? He’s less hyper, less goofy, less...Evan.” Vincent fidgeted with his hands, opting to pick at the meat surrounding his finger nails. 

Vincent had pulled Damien aside during an earlier conversation, when more of their friends were present and engaging in small, idle chats. He wanted to question if Damien had noticed anything odd about Evan’s behavior lately.  

Damien rolled his neck to the side, trying to push out any tension. “I mean, he’s less talkative, yeah, but I don’t think it’s because of what you’re suggestin'.” 

Vincent’s hands flew upwards to cage his own chest, he rested his hands under his armpits, trying to keep them warm and simultaneously hug himself, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. “I mean, look...Evan’s older sister has admitted to us that he’s struggled with depression in the past. Well—that, and homicidal thoughts. But, um,” Vincent dropped his head, staring down at his shoes. “Do you remember when we were filming the car pushing video—or, trying to—and that little girl came running up and handed Evan the little fabric doll?” 

Damien straightened his neck, his gaze zeroing in on Vincent’s disturbed look. He squinted, slightly turning his head to the side. “Yeah, I do. Lil' blonde girl in a pink shirt and purple skirt? What about it?” 

Vincent finally raised his head, locking eyes with a spot on the ceiling as he breathed in a deep breath. “When you, Jeff, and Seth were chatting--over by the car, waiting on me and Evan to come over--Right after the little girl gave Evan the doll, she said some man told her to give the doll to Evan.” 

Damien nodded, “Yeah, ya already told me this. Hell, Evan mentioned it on camera.” 

Vincent nodded in return, “Yeah, well, that wasn’t all the little girl said. She also said that the ‘man’ told her to tell Evan to stay positive and that he’ll find something special soon. I thought it was weird that Evan never mentioned that, especially to you, given that you're...” He trailed off, seemingly struggling to find the right words to finish his sentence. Damien finished it for him. 

“Spiritually inclined?” 

Vincent snapped his fingers and pointed at Damien in confirmation. “That, yeah. I thought for sure the little girl was saying something that had, like, spiritual implications, or something.”  

Damien ran his hand along the side of his neck, leaning back against the edge of the kitchen bar, crossing his legs at the ankle before speaking. “I mean, I think it’s obvious the lil' girl ain’t the one who made the doll.” Vincent nodded in agreement, urging Damien to continue. “Maybe the lil' girl got the doll from an older family member who happens to be a fan of the show?”  

Vincent shook his head slowly. “No, I...not to be, like, pessimistic or whatever, but we’re only getting, like, a few hundred views per video. Not that that’s a low number or anything, I’m grateful that our videos are being watched at all—but my gut is telling me that it isn’t some fan giving us a gift. I really think the little girl was told to give Evan that message from something more...spirit-like?” 

Damien pursed his lips in thought, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think that’s a bit a jump to make? In thought, I mean,” Vincent shrugged. Damien continued, “It prob'ly could be the case, that the lil' girl got that doll from something other than human. I ain’t really get a good look at her, or the lady she came walkin' up with. Besides, Evan cain't seem to put that thing down long enough for me to take it and assess if it’s got somethin' in it.” 

Vincent blinked at him, a bit curious, “What, like a camera? Or...?” Damien shrugged, running his hand along the countertop beside him. “Yeah, som'mn like that. Or could be witchcraft of some type. I won’t know unless I can get my hands on it.”  

Vincent hummed to himself, glancing around the room as he thought for a moment. He finally landed back on Damien, offering a risky option. “We could steal it from him? Like—he probably doesn’t sleep with it in his hands, everyone knows the fucker sleeps like a log. Hypothetically speaking, someone could easily just...sneak into his room and grab the doll?”  

Damien quirked a small side smile, “You suggestin' that someone would be me?” Vincent sheepishly smiled back, “I mean, you’re pretty much silent when you walk, so...” 

Damyano scoffed out a small chuckle, looking down at his feet, smiling to himself. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises I won’t find a way to fuck with him a lil', though.” 

Vincent just chuckled in return. 

[time-keepers-blade]

All about my oc's!

This post is just gonna be covering all the bases regarding my oc's. Lmk if anyone wants know more abt my oc's.

Damien Springs/Damyano Desmonty

Damyano Desmonty, formally known as Damien Springs, is a non-human entity that was once a prominent member of the Desmonty family, a family of high-level entities that control the birth and death of the many realities and universes. In a sense, the family controls time altogether, earning them the nickname "The Timekeepers".

Damyano was originally born well over 5,000 years ago, allowing them to watch the rise and fall of civilizations, realities, and universes. They were the youngest member of their family, being the only child to their two fathers. They kept mostly to themselves, observing the many versions of humanity from a distance, never choosing to directly interact.

They'd had several interactions with other prominent entities, including the infamous "HABIT" and "Slenderman". Despite having interactions with other entities, they've always chosen family over friends, always staying near to their fathers.

Unfortunately, Damyano was a vulnerable soul, finding pain and discomfort very easily. Damyano saw humanity, saw the wars and genocides, saw the ugliness and despair.

Damyano despised humanity, and eventually, they despised theirself, hating their animalistic nature, wishing to be anything other than monster. Their self hatred lead to a deep depression, lasting them several hundreds of years. It all came to a halt when they took their own life in the early 1930's, human time.

Damyano was reincarnated in the early 1990's as Destiny Chávez. Born to a young mother, dropped into the hands of a college-aged father, Destiny spent their early childhood within the custody of their father. Their father was quickly discovered by Damyano's previous father, who chose to assimilated with Destiny's father. The assimilation process was inevitably painful, scary, torturous at moments. This lead the young father to seek a means of keeping Destiny safe, and so, he opted for placing his child on adoption.

Destiny was adopted at age 7 by Miranda and Steven Springs, whom chose to rename their new child to Destiny Springs. At around 15, Destiny came out as transgender, a decision that was met with enthusiastic support. Destiny chose his name to be Damien, and by 18 he'd had his name and gender legally changed.

Though Damien was born in North Carolina, he and his three closest friends chose to move out to a place far north; Princeton, New Jersey.

Zakariah Avons

A mysterious and mischievous friend of Damien Springs. Born to a family of witches and mediums, he harbors the ability to see, communicate with, and even touch any non-human entities. He became best friends with Damien in high school and chose to join him in the big move to Princeton, NJ.

[time-keepers-blade]

Hey there! I'm Dustin, I write random stuff. I'll take requests for specific fandoms but only if I'm interested in them.

THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS ARE NOT ALLOWED.

If I have reason to believe you are a minor (no age in bio, age below 18 in bio, interacting with other minors' blogs) I will block you immediately. I'm not in charge of babysitting a bunch of teenagers.

I will mostly write for Slenderverse, Creepypasta, and Sally Face. Below is a list of what I will and won't write for!

I WILL write for:

Headcannons

Fluff

Smut

Short stories

Comfort

General violence (fighting, murder, typical creepypasta/slenderverse type stuff)

I WON'T write for:

Sexual assault/rape

Detailed gore (I'm just not great at it ;-;)

Animal or domestic violence

Any kinks to do with piss or skat (no judgement, I'm just not into writing it)

Angst (again, I'm not great at it)

You can check my bio for the status on requests. I will not do commissions just yet, as I'm still working on the payment process.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY OF MY WRITTEN WORKS BEING RECREATED BY OR USED TO TRAIN ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE/AI. DO NOT USE MY WORKS WITHOUT MY CONSENT, OTHERWISE I WILL TAKE LEGAL ACTION.