immortal4thgrader

[immortal4thgrader]

daddyslittledemon​:

                              She blinked, confusion matching the kid’s own as he stared at her with a shocked look on his face. What, did he not remember dying, or something? To be fair, she didn’t know how this kind of stuff worked- just that it did, sometimes, and that, in retrospect, it was kinda fucked up. Say what you want about her dad, but this was usually the big man upstairs’ kinda thing. Once people got to hell, they didn’t usually come back. At least, not still human.

However, she let out a loud “phew“ as his moment of disbelief ended, showing her that he was indeed equipped with a full hand of fingers. “Okay, good, because it’s really hard getting ‘food’-” air quotes around the word- “away from Ratatouille. Little guy things he’s a gourmet chef, or something.” And he’d never even seen the movie he was named after!

Melanie’s own confusion melted away as the boy further explained himself as well. “Ohhhhh. Don’t worry about it. I’m not like other girls.” She wiggled the wings that shown behind her back and flicked her tail to prove that they were real and not just part of a costume like most people assumed.

“Sucks for you, though.” Despite the blunt observation, her words weren’t lacking in sympathy. Poor kid, honestly. She’d expect something like this to happen to people who had fucked up, like really bad, but what could a little kid have done to deserve this kind of karmic punishment? It’s not like he was a serial killer, or anything. Kids were usually pretty innocent. Then again, God’s sense of humor could also be really fucked up. That’s probably why his son ran away from home and went and died for everyone’s sins in the first place.

“…You wanna talk about it?”

[Kenny’s stupefaction had yet to wear off -- far from it, actually -- but he’d calmed down enough to appreciate the humor in the alley girl’s words, particularly about Ratatouille “thinking he was a gourmet chef.” Despite his near-panic from earlier, he managed a muffled laugh, even though the subject was still technically a little bit grim -- the food she was referring to was still one of his fingers, after all. He was just...used to this. Even his own rats back home, ones that he’d also given affectionate names and taken care of ( to the best of his ability ), were ones that happily feasted upon his flesh once he died. It was just a fact of life that he was a rat magnet.]

❝ (Hehe, his name suits him.) ❞ [Kenny smiled, waving over at the rat in the corner; he wondered if any part of him ( or any of the rats who nibbled on him, for that matter ) remembered.] ❝ (It’s okay. I think every rat in town’s had a piece of me by now.) ❞

[Finally, Kenny was provided with an explanation -- however vague -- of how this girl had been able to recall his deaths. A muffled “ohh!” of realization escaped him once he realized that the tail and wings were actually real, not just part of a cosplay, akin to something the lame-ass vampire kids would come up with -- in fairness, her “accessories” were a little too cool for them anyway. So she was a demon! Pretty sick, actually. He’d had his fair share of encounters with them, though none of them had been this chill ( aside from Satan. Did Satan count? Sure he did ). He didn’t think he’d ever see one in the “mortal world,” though...usually his encounters with angels or the Devil himself were because he needed to help out with some earth-shattering cosmic disaster. He never randomly encountered them in alleyways like this.]

❝ (Whoa, sweet! I didn’t know Satan let demons have cool wings n’ tails like that. So...why’re you up here? I’ve never seen any of you guys just hanging out like this.) ❞

[And then he was hit by her sympathy; it was blunt, yeah, but there was some kindness behind it. His shoulders slumped a little when she asked whether he wanted to talk about it, his eyes starting to well up -- in a way, this was all he’d wanted to open up about for years. But who would believe a kid who suddenly told everybody he died all the time? When he tried telling Kyle during their stints as superheroes, nobody believed him -- even after he killed himself in front of all of his friends, nobody fucking remembered. This had been a curse, a burden he’d been living with ever since he was a baby. And now...he had somebody to talk to.]

❝ (You...really don’t mind?) ❞ [He sniffled, then hurriedly rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.] ❝ (Sorry. Nobody’s ever...listened, I guess.) ❞

[immortal4thgrader]

[Okay, getting stopped by a stranger in an alleyway was a recipe for disaster. Kenny knew that all too well -- hell, he'd died in this same alley just last night! -- but he was on a mission here. When he died this time around, he was positive that he'd accidentally left behind his backpack, which was a mortifying thought when he considered all that was in there; money that he'd pushed himself in all sorts of ways to make, his emergency Mysterion costume, even his flip phone and his old PSP. He'd been trying not to make that mistake for the longest time, but the second he got comfortable after not dying ( of unnatural causes ) for a few weeks...this happened. He needed to get it back, and hopefully he'd be able to once this conversation was over.]

❝ (Huh??) ❞ [His frantic thoughts were interrupted the second that the girl in front of him addressed his death from the night before. She...knew?? No, wait -- she could remember??? Kenny's eyes widened with realization and bewilderment. How was it that a complete stranger from an alleyway could remember his deaths, but his own friends couldn't? She was even asking him whether his fingers were intact ( they were, but that was beside the point )! No. Fucking. Way.]

[Kenny could barely get a word out for a minute or two; all he wanted to ask was how the fuck she could remember, since his own friends -- his best friends! -- were completely clueless. She couldn't be just a regular person, right? Because if she was, that might...have some really devastating implications about his friends. Maybe they just didn't care. Or maybe he was just jumping to conclusions.]

❝ (My, uh...my fingers are fine.) ❞ [He shakily pulled off one of his mittens ( the one belonging to the hand that would've had a missing finger, had he still been a corpse ), wiggled all of his fingers, then put it back on.] ❝ (How'd you know?? Usually, nobody ever remembers me dying. It's just...something that happens. All the time.) ❞

@immortal4thgrader​

“Okay, so, like-” She hated putting emphasis on that word. Such annoying white girl bullshit- like using the word literally non literally. Ugh, what was their deal? But alas, she didn’t quite know how else to address the young boy who currently occupied the little alleyway she called home. If this were any regular kid, she’d either tell them to scram or force her friendship on them, no in between, but this was definitely the same boy she saw laying dead in the street just a day before, being nibbled on by rats. And as the mother of some of those rats, this was super awkward. What was she supposed to do? Apologise? Did he even remember being chewed on by rats? She didn’t really know how long humans stayed aware of what was happening to their bodies after they died, or if they did at all. Logic told her that no, duh, dead people’s souls don’t just hang around and vibe in their lifeless corpses, but that was for normal people, not kids who randomly came back to life.

“Listen, I dunno what your deal is with God, or whatever bozo is in charge of all that reincarnation crap, but-” A small sigh left her as she struggled for the right words. So awkward. “You got all your fingers? Cuz if not, I’m pretty sure I saw I saw Ratatouille chewing on one of ‘em last night.” She gestured to a specific rat in the corner of the alley, indistinguishable from the rest of them, but not to Melanie. As an attentive rat mother, she could tell all of her children apart, naturally.

“Just trying to figure out if this is a zombie sorta thing or a full CSGO respawn sorta situation.” Preferably the latter, because getting that finger back from Ratatouille might be kind of hard.

[immortal4thgrader]

thinkin about how au.rora bo.realis fits kenny tryin to show people his deaths and get them to remember lmaooo.

[immortal4thgrader]

Some single page comics of Bunny and Headcanons. (Possible spoilers) 

Headcanon 1: After Kenny found out his friends had lied to him about everything being OK, he felt backstabbed. Feeling like he could no longer trust them, Kenny ran to the last bit a familiarity he had left and the only friend he could trust; Butters. 

Headcanon 2:  Butters lost his mind trying to remember Kenny’s deaths. Attempting to recall these lost memories leads to confusion and horror which worsens the more he struggles.

Headcanon 3:  When Dr. McCormick passed away, that is when Butters/Victor lost his grip on reality. Kenny had kept him safe from his trauma, pain, and darkness. Once he was gone, Butters had no one left to save him.

[immortal4thgrader]

IT STARTERS || STILL ACCEPTING! || @butterstuttrs​

butterstuttrs asked: i want to run towards something, not away. / i need to reply to our thread and i am so on that but here

[Chaos' words elicited a moment of silence from the hero; he briefly wondered if they were secretly directed towards him, chiding him for a "cowardice" that only he himself knew about. After all, couldn't his desperate efforts to seek mortality -- and in turn, finally end this curse -- be seen as a way of "escaping it all?" Running away from a duty that he'd essentially sworn himself to by choosing this path as a "hero?"]

[In truth, this path had always been one founded in selfishness. Although he did have an altruistic cause to fight for, he secretly hoped that he might finally thwart whatever had been haunting him for all these years. Perhaps by becoming the stereotypical superhero, his "kryptonite" would show up; perhaps by embracing his "power" and using it more often, it would finally wear off. Maybe he was like a cat with nine lives, and aforementioned lives would run out eventually. Unfortunately, he'd had no such luck...]

[Eventually, Mysterion snapped back to his senses; Chaos had no way of knowing of his inner turmoil, nor his quest to mortalize himself. Those words were nothing but a simplistic goal spoken by a villain -- in fact, they might have been Chaos announcing his willingness to battle Mysterion, a challenge that the hero had grossly misinterpreted for a good minute or so. That was...fucking embarrassing. Oh, well -- nothing he could do about it now, aside from kick Chaos' ass ( not that he'd actually harm his "nemesis" too badly -- it was still Butters under there, after all, and Kenny had already experienced the horrors of maiming the poor kid while they were playing pretend ).]

❝ Brave words, coming from you. ❞ [Mysterion's gritty voice pierced through the quiet; he glared the tinfoil villain down, bracing himself for a fight.] ❝ Let's get this over with, then. ❞

[immortal4thgrader]

like if i am the fairest maiden in all the land. 💖

[immortal4thgrader]

IT STARTERS || STILL ACCEPTING! || @flippedoff​

flippedoff asked: “you know it’s all bullshit, right.” (craig)

❝ (Damn fuckin' right I do!) ❞

[This was far from the first time that Kenny had sided with Craig, but it was possibly the first that he'd done so with such conviction; the orange-clad boy was one to hold a grudge, especially when a certain somebody went above and beyond to mock him for his poverty. His three best friends had all booted him from their group, all because of something he couldn't control -- worse yet, they'd agreed with Eric fucking Cartman! Sure, not all of them allied with him on the matter of Kenny's poverty impeding his newsman ability, but they all agreed that he didn't belong with them on this project -- even though they were supposed to be best friends!]

[So yeah, Kenny had allied himself with Craig once again, both out of vengeful desire and mild desperation to have some source of comraderie. Thankfully, Craig could provide both in this trying time.]

❝ (Kicking me off their team just 'cause I "wouldn't know anything about the news"...fuckin' assholes.) ❞

[immortal4thgrader]

butterstuttrs​:

*＊✿❀ butterstuttrs ❀✿＊*

Times like this reminded Butters why he trusted Kenny far more than the others. Stan and Kyle were okay, Stan was a little too self-concerned and Kyle could be stubborn and since Butters also tagged along a lot with Eric, Kyle did not seem to overly keen on the blond-tuff boy. Between the four of them Kenny and Eric were Butters best friends. Sounded like a stretch to say the latter rather than the former but there it was. 

ℬ ༓ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ☼ ❝ You’re a r-real pal.❞ His hand motioned to pat Kenny affectionately on the back before he nodded a meek, little nod. ℬ ༓ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ☼ ❝ YSn-snow that should help–help bring down the nasty ol’ swellin’.❞

He would follow in-suit of McCormick, knuckles bruising against one another, and worrying his bottom lip. He was thoughtful. Wistful before he spoke up next. A bad feeling stir in his stomach. ℬ ༓ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ☼ ❝  ..Kenny? How do you know all this stuff? You—you know about having black eyes and all. I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to punch you in the face.❞ Despite the urgency he had to get his own dressed he was struggling just to keep up.

❝ (Thanks, Butters.) ❞ [Beneath his hood, Kenny smiled warmly as the blond patted him on the back; it was a small gesture, but one founded in sincerity and kindness. "You're a real pal" and a few pats might not mean much coming from anyone else ( in fact, the former could be an insult if it came from one of his friends ), but from Butters? It could make you feel special, especially when you came from a background where there was little love to be found. Kenny cherished the friends he had, and he would do anything for them, but it was nice to have one like Butters ( even if everybody in his usual crowd thought he was a dork ).] 

[Nonetheless, Butters had agreed to the good ol' snow treatment -- good thing, too, because Kenny wasn't really sure where to get an ice cold beer around here. He motioned for Butters to follow him outside, and once they were in a sufficiently snowy clearing, he stopped to gather a decent amount of snow. He managed to roll up an impressive snowball, too -- it would have made for some flawless ammunition in a fight.]

[Just as he'd finished up, Butters hit him with a question he hadn't anticipated -- how did he know all this stuff? Kenny laughed weakly as the blond insisted that he couldn't imagine anybody who would want to punch him, and his hands -- the ones gripping his precious, densely packed snowball -- started to tremble. Why'd he have to ask that? Kenny had never divulged the reason for his bruises ( mostly because nobody had ever asked; he was too good at hiding them ), nor was he ever able to really discuss his family.]

[It was a well-known fact that they were poor, but nobody in town -- let alone in their school -- really knew the extent of it. Nobody knew the lengths Kenny had to go to just to get food, or how he literally starved to death in the process, or how his parents would beat them for minor inconveniences...Kenny often had to go out of his way just to protect his little sister from them. Mysterion had been their saving grace, but even that tactic was losing its edge. And Kenny hadn't told anybody...anything.]

❝ (...Here. Hold still. This might sting a bit, okay?) ❞ [Kenny decided that it'd be better to stall first; besides, his priority had already been to patch Butters up, so why not act on that first and foremost? He delicately pressed his snowball to Butters' eye, then bit his lip as he searched for his next words. It wasn't easy to talk about this shit. He'd always kept it to himself, figuring that he'd handle it all on his own. If there was anybody he could vent to, though...]

❝ (It's...personal experience. Lots of it. My parka helps hide 'em all, but I've had plenty of bruises and black eyes and...) ❞ [He'd go on, but if he got into one of THOSE discussions, Butters would think he was absolutely insane.] ❝ (Well, you get it. As for who...it's usually my dad. Sometimes my mom. I, uh...I'm guessing the same goes for you.) ❞

[immortal4thgrader]

IT STARTERS || STILL ACCEPTING! || @stcrmbled​

stcrmbled asked: “let’s get the fuck outta here, come on.”

❝ Yeah, I'm coming... ❞ 

[Mysterion's raspy voice somehow rang out amidst the chaos; despite his words, he took one final moment to glance at the destruction behind them. As usual, their escapades as superheroes had landed them in a sticky situation, and they'd barely escaped with their lives...not that Mysterion's deaths really mattered.]

[Regardless, Drake was the only other one in their superhero troupe ( who still resided on this planet ) who possessed actual powers; as a result, Mysterion thought it'd be best to team up with him. The threat level here had been fairly high, and it'd be a risk to bring anyone else along. As it turned out, Drake was stronger than he'd anticipated, and his abilities had seemed to get a bit out of hand. They'd subdued their enemies, but they'd also nearly taken themselves out in the process...]

[...Drake was right, though. There wasn't time to dwell. Mysterion turned back to his teammate and nodded, readying himself for the run he'd have to make.]

❝ Right. Let’s go. ❞

[immortal4thgrader]

im pissed off bc of work shit so (writes replies aggressively)

[immortal4thgrader]

IT STARTERS || STILL ACCEPTING! || @flippedoff​

flippedoff asked: “i can barely breathe!” (tweek)

❝ (Whoa, dude, calm down --) ❞

[Rarely, if ever, had Kenny contended with one of Tweek's countless panic attacks. He'd been present for a couple of them, and he'd obviously noticed how twitchy and paranoid the kid was, but the most they'd interacted was when they'd worked together on a school project ( and even then, they'd done so while grouped with the rest of Kenny's friends ). Kenny had never really been left alone with him, as far as he could recall -- ironic, since Tweek been picking up deliveries from the meth lab behind his house for ages now.]

[Either way, it seemed that Kenny would have to do his best. Thankfully, he had an easy solution for how to settle anybody down while they were freaking out...at least, he hoped it’d be effective here. See, his little sister would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night because she'd had a nightmare, and Kenny was the one who had to deal with the damage before she annoyed one of their parents...for the most part, he’d be basing his methods on that. Of course, he’d have to tone down the brotherly energy of it all, lest he embarrass the fuck out of himself.]

❝ (It's gonna be okay, I promise. Deep breaths, okay? Like this...in, out.) ❞ [Kenny slowly demonstrated, motioning with his hands as he inhaled and exhaled; hopefully, Tweek would follow suit.]

[immortal4thgrader]

OK ACTUALLY I WANNA LEAVE YOU ALL WITH THE FIRST LINE FROM THE INTRO TO ONE OF MY MANY S.OUTH PA.RK FICS ( beautifully titled “a fanfic abt kenny dealing w a broken leg bc i had to in middle school” ) BECAUSE I’M LAUGHING RLY HARD OVER IT

( tagging @stcrmbled bc i can )

“Motorbikes; one of the deadliest threats on this planet, provided that you wore an orange parka and your name was Kenny McCormick.”

[immortal4thgrader]

at the cost of an extra hour of sleep, i have done it. inbox responses are queued babey

[immortal4thgrader]

[immortal4thgrader]

Noticing Trauma sentence starters

Feel free to alter dialogue to suit your muse!

“That really spooked you.” 

“I don’t want to pry, but.. I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” 

“Well, pretend I’m not here. What would you say if nobody could hear it?” 

“Does this happen a lot?” 

“Hey, what happened between you two?” 

“When is the last time you ate?”

“Is this okay?” 

“Hey.” 

“This is the third meal you’ve missed this week, are you okay?” 

“[Name]?” 

“What did he/she/they do?” 

“This … hurts you.” 

“You don’t feel safe, here.” 

“When you look at [trigger], you… what is that?” 

“What can I do?” 

“You were crying in your sleep.” 

“What do you dream about?” 

“Whenever you get stressed, you do this thing with your hands. What is it?” 

“You’re right, I don’t understand, yet. Will you help me?” 

“Should I leave a light on for you?” 

“I brought you some water.” 

“I won’t judge you.” 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. You don’t have to tell me. But I’ll listen, if you do.” 

“Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? One, two, three, four…” 

“I’m here.” 

“Talk to me.” 

“You don’t need to tell me everything. I just want to know how I can help.” 

“Let me hold your hair back, at least.” 

“You used to love that [item].” 

[immortal4thgrader]

i've been tryin to write both at work and at home but it's not goin well ajfhshfh

[immortal4thgrader]

butterstuttrs​:

*＊✿❀ butterstuttrs ❀✿＊*

Good old Kenny. Kenny still stands to be one of the few who actually gives a heck about Butters. And Butters considers him his best friend. Along with Eric though that friendship really did differ a lot; whether Butters truly believed them to be friends or not that was. As for Kenny? There was not a shroud of doubt that he was Butters’ friend. Give or take he had been the one to permanently damage one of Butters’ eyes but mistakes happen. 

He had never seen any of the poorer boy’s bruising past or present but if he had you could betcha he would do the same for Kenny as the orang clad boy was doing for him now. He is fidgeting, knuckles bruising by his own accord as he was bashing them together, worrying his bottom lip. 

ℬ ༓ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ☼ ❝ Y-Yeah, I-I guess you’re right. ❞He finally complies. ❝It does hurt pretty bad. ❞He rolls his shoulder up to wipe at the streaming eye again. The weather had taken its toll over the sensitive puffy skin. Butters was nothing if not an empath and he would hold onto what Kenny said about being accustom to tending to black eyes and inquire later on. Kenny deserved more credit that much Butters’ is positive of. 

ℬ ༓ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ☼ ❝ Thank you, Kenny. -I really appreciate y’helping me an’ all. ❞

[Kenny breathed a sigh of relief as Butters conceded, despite the repercussions he'd face once he got home; unfortunately, the reality of the situation was that he'd probably face a harsh punishment no matter how "late" he was to class. The most Kenny could do now was try to patch him up in a relatively timely manner, hopefully before class ended. He wouldn't sweat it too much if he couldn't -- in fact, he'd probably offer to let Butters stay at his house for the night ( in fairness, his home was also a shithole with terrible parents, but it was the best solution he had in the moment ) if things got to that point. He couldn't stand seeing Butters like this, and chances were that it'd only get worse if he went back home after missing class entirely.]

[A sympathetic wince as Butters mentioned how his eye still hurt, just before rubbing at it; that much was clear, especially with how fresh that injury was. Fortunately, Kenny knew the ins-and-outs of dealing with all sorts of wounds by now, especially those resulting from a pair of horrible parents. He was positive that he'd be able to help, even if only marginally.]

❝ (...It'll be okay. I can help with the pain, at least.) ❞ [That much was true. The origin, on the other hand...that was something that Kenny struggled to deal with. Try as he might to improve not only his life, but those of his siblings, he often failed. Even his Mysterion tactics eventually fell short once his parents started finding ways to break the rules "behind his back." Kenny could try and help Butters, and he probably would -- whether or not Butters wanted him to -- but it'd likely backfire in the end. It usually did.]

[Butters' genuine appreciation caught him offguard; it wasn't as though it came out of nowhere, but Kenny still hadn't expected it. Even when he helped his own friends out, he rarely received any gratitude -- in fact, it was usually accompanied by teasing, or maybe even them telling him to fuck off ( as though they hadn’t needed his help in the first place ). Really, the only times he was thanked were when he helped his sister, or...now.]

❝ (Don't mention it. I don't like seeing my friends hurt.) ❞ [Kenny smiled warmly underneath his hoodie; it wasn't visible, but he hoped that Butters could sense it. After a moment, he went back into "mission mode," and decided that they should get started on taking care of Butters' eye; first off, ice. Or something cold in general. Kenny rarely managed to get ahold of ice, so he usually used one of his dad's cold beers. That way, he could also drink it afterwards! ...Even if he got in even more trouble for that later on.] 

❝ (Speaking of which...let's go get some stuff to take care of your eye. First off, we need something cold. So...snow, maybe?) ❞