#the second pair of antennas looked like pigtails so me and my friends were calling them hatsune isopod JEJSJD

[randomjellyfishy]

I had finished a redesign for a wtdw oc today and decided to use it as an excuse to post them:3

They’re like a scrapped animatronic who’s meant to be an isopod. Their design was originally a pill bug, but I changed them to a giant sea isopod

Nothing has changed with their lore, just their design + their height is 3’8 now

[devnny]

A PRELUDE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

Here’s the backstory to the AU I’ll keep referencing in art on this blog! I have no idea if I’ll write any more of this, but it’s good to have this as source material... Enjoy my suffering.

A paintbrush rolled slowly between Devi’s thumb and index finger as she contemplated where she wanted to pick up on her current project. The layer of paint near the eyes of her subject was still a little tacky, and despite her want to continue blending in the shadows of its face, she thought she might rip off one of her own pigtails if she had to redo the eyes again. So, she decided on detailing the rough shapes behind the figure’s head.

It was a nice little reprieve to have Tenna come over and watch stupid game shows over dinner, but as always, a little voice in her head demanded that she continue her work as soon as possible – and no, not that little voice. Here eyes drifted toward the doorway that lead from her art room to the living room, where she knew her backpack that contained her little parasite’s “eyes” was sitting somewhere.

“Little fucker.” She mumbled, a touch smug, as she continued painting.

A sudden rapid knocking at her door startled the brush out of Devi’s hand, and she cursed at the unruly smudge it left on her canvas. Her teeth grated.

“TENNA, for SHIT’S SAKE.” She yelled as she stormed to the door. “If this is about that dance club—!”

Devi swung open her front door, but instead of her shorter friend’s gleaming, mischievous expression, she was met with a pair of wide, staring eyes, marred with the bruising of countless sleepless nights. In an instant, any oxygen in her lungs vanished, leaving her in a vacuum of her own breathless horror. Her stunned fear only amplified the longer the man standing on her doorstep stayed unnervingly silent, eyes boring into her own with an overwhelming intensity, anxiety, urgency.

Johnny.

She slammed the door hard, pressing her back and palms flat against it with a dismayed grimace. The rapid knocking started right back up, and Devi’s eyes darted around the room for anything that she could use as a weapon, should her visitor manage to find a way inside.

“DEVI.” Johnny’s voice called from beyond the barrier. “DEVI, DEVI, WAIT!”

The clacking of every lock she had bolted to her door was a strict answer, but she thought she should make it clear.

“NNY, YOU SICK FUCK!!” She braced the door, pausing a moment to keep her voice from shaking. “What the hell happened to LEAVING ME ALONE, HUH? Where’d THAT go!?”

His insistent banging on her door made her stomach even more nauseated.

“I KNOW, but it’s different now!! Something very bad is happening to you Devi, you must listen to me!” He shook the handle. “I only came to warn you!”

Devi hesitated, contemplating which string of curse words would correctly express her feelings at the moment, when a brief wave of clarity hit her. She knew well now of what plagued Johnny nearly a year ago when he made an attempt on her life, as her dear Sickness had kindly informed her of his failed battle with the voice in his head. Devi wondered then, if Sickness knew of Johnny’s “demons”, so to speak, did his know about…

“…Warn me about what, Nny?” She kept her footing as she held the door still, and did her best not to think about if he had the physical strength to thrust a weapon through the meager shield between them. The sudden calmness in her voice confused Johnny, and he pondered if she was loading a gun, or something else, that might give her some peace about his presence.

“Uh.” Throughout his frantic rushing to her apartment, he had failed to practice what exactly he would say that might convince her to believe him on a topic so ludicrous. “Uh, well, I…”

A pause.

“Well you see, um, I used to be plagued by two Doughboys, er, not real Doughboys – well, I mean they were sort of real, eventually – BUT, UH, that’s not totally relevant. But they had my voice! And they tricked me into thinking it was me talking to myself, but it was something else… You see, they were a product of an eldritch horror living in my walls, and they had me do a lot of bad stuff…! Not like Nailbunny, though, sometimes I think he’s still with me—”

As he rambled, Devi’s panic melted into mild annoyance. She only had half an idea of what he was babbling about, but her suspicions that it had something to do with their shared “ailment” was confirmed at least.

Johnny cut off his explanation at the sound of multiple door locks clicking and whirling. The door opened enough for Devi’s irritated green eyes to glare at him. After a second of anxiety at seeing her again, Johnny offered a nervous, quick smile.

“You’re here about Sickness.” Devi spoke pointedly. Johnny blinked in reply.

“Oh, uh, well I suppose yes, you could call it a “sickness”, of sorts.”

“No, not a sickness. Sickness.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what mine’s named. Didn’t your voice, and or voices, tell you that, or just that I had her?”

Johnny blinked again, befuddled by her casual tone about being haunted by some other-dimensional creature.

“W-well, uh, WAIT.” He stopped himself before he started another tangent. “Wait, why – HOW do you know so much!? I’m supposed to be the one filling you in on all of this! No one told ME any of this crap!”

Devi waited and watched him a moment. There was something different about him. He looked different, mainly his hair, which was short aside from two oddly shaped chunks of it that stuck off his forehead like antennae, but she thought it was more than that. He looked… lively, if one could say that. He used to look more like a corpse, haunted and tired. He looked awake now. She debated if that change was enough to trust that he wouldn’t try to murder her if she opened the door past the width the chain-lock would allow.

“She told me. I guess she wasn’t strong enough yet to know how to shut up.” She watched his body straighten, watched his hands for any sudden movements.

“SHE… TOLD YOU?” His voice raised in upset. “BUT… I don’t understand that! When I first started hearing the different—”

Johnny’s voice cut when the door closed again, and he felt a new wave of insecurity as Devi opened it up fully.

“Get in here before you wake the neighbors. The psychic fat lady blew up last month, but I don’t need any more write-ups.”

--

A SHORT WHILE PREVIOUS:

“Come on, Johnny. That diner looked really good, didn’t it? And it was so cheap, even you could afford a full meal there.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP.” Johnny screamed at the Bub’s Burger statuette that was currently strapped into the seat beside him. His boney fingers gripped onto the steering wheel harder, as if that might help him concentrate. “The last thing I need is food.”

“Untrue! Humans need food to function, it fuels their body and mind.” The ceramic argued.

“And isn’t that sad.” Johnny furrowed his brows. “Eating just leads to evacuating one’s bowels, and since I hate excrement, and I hate doing that, and I definitely don’t like doing that outside of my home, in a filthy, stinky, public bathroom, I won’t be eating.”

It was silent for awhile after that, and Johnny felt smug that he’d won the argument… with himself, but that was beside the point.

He had been traveling for a few months now, and had decided that he would return home soon. Even with the “conversations” with his new companion, Reverend Meat, he felt very self-aware, self-assured. The future was a confusing thing, but it was his now, supposedly. The only people he’d killed since the Doughboys demise were people he really felt deserved it. Well… there were a couple of scummy guys that maybe could have just used a couple of whacks to the head, and then he did take a tire iron to some rude people at gas stations… never mind. It was a work in progress, no harm no foul, right?

“There’s quite a bit of harm there, Johnny boy.” Meat replied.

“SHUT UP.” Was the answer again. “Stay out of my thinky-thoughts, you repugnant little Doughboy-wannabe.”

“Don’t be angry Johnny, I told you I’m only trying to help you.” The whites of Meat’s eyes slowly began to swallow up his pupils. “You need the essentials Johnny, food and sleep, sure, but you need emotional unburdening. This fruitless running from desire is just that, FRUITLESS! Once you return home, you should call that girl again. Maybe stop in for a visit.”

Johnny’s forehead crinkled in frustration, and he twitched at the passing mention of Devi.

“WHY in the Hell would that be a good idea!?” He straightened against his chair. “You heard what she said to me over the phone! That she—AND IT DOESN’T MATTER, ANYWAY! I’ve severed any feelings I have for ANYONE. I’m a husk, dammit, a HUSK!”

The silence that followed this time was dampening, and Johnny suspected Reverend Meat was going to say something that would upset him. If only he could get a handle on his anger, that would be the end of all these emotional outbursts.

“I suppose I don’t care who you go see, but I think you’d want to see her.” He smiled wider. “She’s sick.”

Johnny’s thin eyebrow pricked up at the comment.

“Sick?”

“Yes, she’s very sick. You got her sick.” Meat’s voice lowered a bit. “She’s been staying in a lot, having problems working, you know. Talking to herself.”

The car suddenly came screeching to a halt, stopping in the middle of the deserted backroad with a shake. Johnny didn’t register that he was the one that had stomped on the brakes.

“ARE YOU… SAYING?” He stared out at the darkness beyond his headlights.

“Yes, she’s grown a new voice in her head, if that’s what you’re asking.” Meat chuffed. “Caught it from you.”

Johnny gripped the steering wheel impossibly harder, ringing the ruined material under his palms in one slow motion. Devi, innocent Devi, who he had promised his nothing to, was in imminent danger because of him. His promises to feign ignorance over her very existence, his promises to cut away his feelings for her, it was all in vain – she was ruined the moment she took his company.

His wide eyes bore into the dash of his car as he tried to take the information in.

He remembered his conversations with Devi, about literature and art. He remembered on their date, what she said about her ability to paint – “immunity or death”, she had said. If she couldn’t create, she would cease to exist. Devi was so confident about that, that there was no possibility she would ever lose that part of her. Johnny gritted his teeth – she was going to, and it was his fault. He brought her to his home, exposed her to the shitty air he breathed, and then scared her so bad that she refused to leave her house. It was the perfect mix to stew one of those horrible creatures inside her mind.

“Damn it.” He shook. “FUCK, DAMN IT ALL.”

Reverend Meat’s smile remained.

“Maybe you can still help her, Johnny. But you don’t want to see her, don’t want to interact with her.” A small laugh. “As far as your plans go, it’s better for you if you ignore what I said, and leave her to her own devices, right?”

If Meat said anything further, Johnny didn’t hear it. There was an insistent ringing in his head, almost like the bzzz of a bug zapper, that now drown out all outside noise, leaving him to his frenzied thoughts.

The stupid little statuette was right – he had said that. It was for his own welfare that he closed off his emotional connections – but who gave a fuck about that when Devi was in active danger of wasting away into a murderous, controlled little cretin, the way he was for years. Arguably still was, even.

It couldn’t be helped. At the very least he had to warn her of what was happening to her, then she might at least stand a fighting chance. He would tell her all the things that he wished someone had shared with him at the fuzzy beginning – to fight the voices, to push forward with his creative endeavors, and refuse to relinquish the reigns of his sanity so complacently. The voices are not her conscience, she must know that!

Tire screeched as he peeled away, intent on hurdling toward his final destination much faster than before.

--

CURRENTLY:

After some finger twiddling, Johnny had taken a seat on Devi’s couch to continue their conversation. He half-expected his host to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, but wasn’t surprised when she remained standing. The aluminum bat that she took up like a walking cane was a bit more unexpected, though.

“So.” Devi tapped the bat on the floor a moment before setting her palm flat on it, leaning her weight into it. “You came to “warn” me, huh?”

Her voice had some distaste it, with her suspicion toward her guest openly seeping out. Johnny swallowed, beady pupils darting around the corners of her living room before returning to her figure with a nod.

“Yes.”

A stretch of silence ran between them as Devi squinted at him questionably.

“Why?” She finally asked. Johnny seemed surprised at that.

“What do you mean why? I told you over the phone that I liked you immensely, so, even though I promised I would no longer bother you, I had to break that vow in order to make sure you didn’t end up a raving, murderous lunatic, like, well, me!” He huffed amidst his earnestness. Devi popped an eyebrow up at that.

“So, it was a thing like Sickness that turned you into a mass murderer, huh?” She stepped closer, which in hindsight seemed stupid as those words left her mouth, but there was no way in Hell she’d stumble back and show him any intimidated fear now. Johnny seemed to slink away as she moved toward him, like a magnet being propelled away from another.

“Well, sort of.” He brought his spindly hands up in a shrug. “I had three.”

Devi’s eyes widened at that.

“—but now I’m unsure what the real cause was. Maybe I was just really afflicted, but there were two that were kind of a duo, the Doughboys, and I think they were attached to what was in my house, and then there was Nailbunny… he was always a standup guy. Really tried to help me. The wall-thing controlled the Doughboys, so after I died-or-whatever, they disappeared.”

“D… died?” She asked.

“Oh, well, maybe-died, I don’t know. It could have been a crazy dream. ANYWAY, that’s not the important thing!” He hunched closer despite his previous apprehension of doing so.

“Devi if you start getting the urge to paint a wall with blood, don’t do it! That’s the wall-thing!! It made me commit such horrible atrocities you know, and it even convinced me I liked doing it! But I DIDN’T, I HATE blood! But I thought I liked what I did at the time!!” His chest heaved.

“Those shitty dough-turds convinced me to do all kinds of nasty shit! Disembowelings, mutilations, eviscerations, beheadings – all to get stupid blood for a stupid wall! But it wasn’t always about that, it got so bad that even when things were good they’d MAKE ME ruin it, just to keep me writhing under their thumbs! Mr. Fuck, the ASSHOLE, was the one that told me to, to… er… “immortalize” that night with you… as it were…” Johnny lowered his head into his shoulders as he finished, moving his attention to the floor between his boots. The mentions of his carnage made her ill, but Devi scowled further at the reference of their failed romance.

“So you’re innocent in all this, eh?” He could tell just from her tone that the implication pissed her off.

“NO, no, I’m not saying that… I shouldn’t have let them convince me, is the thing.” He pressed against the back of her couch urgently, still looking around at anything but her. Devi’s brows furrowed as his attempts at showing passivity.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She bit out before straightening up. “I didn’t let Sickness win.”

Johnny’s attention snapped back to her immediately, and he stared up at her in shocked awe.

“What!?” He stood, suddenly close to her. “You mean to tell me – that – that you’ve already dealt with it all??”

Devi pressed the head of the bat to his chest, eyeing him firmly as she stepped back. She dropped her would-be weapon to her side again when the distance was to her liking.

“Yes. Sort of.” She looked toward her backpack that was sitting offside the coffee table. “What’s left of her is in there.”

Johnny gaped at the bag her eyes led him to. A feeling of nauseating rage flooded over him as he realized he was duped, again.

“BASTARD!” He yelled suddenly, startling Devi, who crossed her bat over her chest should she need to whack him with it.

“MEAT, you lying sack of crap – HE LIED TO ME!” Johnny’s arms swung around in front of him as he stepped in circles toward the front door. “YOU JUST WANTED ME TO COME HERE, TO SEE HER. ALL LIES, DECIETE, DECIETE!! ALL A PLOY TO—!”

As he turned back toward Devi, he was stopped by the sudden cold touch of metal under his chin. Devi pressed the bat closer to him, forcing his head back slightly as he froze in place.

“Nny,” She spoke sharply. “who are you talking to right now?”

Johnny gulped, unaccustomed to being the fearful one in situations.

“Um… Reverend Meat.” He spoke cautiously, hoping to placate her. “He’s my newest… voice.”

“A fourth voice?” She asked aggressively. Johnny sweated in reply.

“Yes???” He hoped honesty was the best policy here. Devi grunted a surprised scoff, retracting her weapon away from him with wide, disgusted eyes.

“Nny, how the fuck did you let it get this bad?” She stared at him while he rubbed his jaw. He cast his eyes downward again.

“I don’t know.” His voice grew quiet. “Ugh, I don’t know – I shouldn’t have come here Devi. I’m sorry.”

Johnny’s head swiveled back and forth uncertainly as he spoke, before he turned and hurried to the door.

“Wait.” Her voice stopped him in his tracks, and he hesitantly turned back to look at her.

“Are you just going to get worse again? Are you going to keep fucking killing people, Nny?” Devi stared at him, and he felt like he was under a microscope.

“I’m trying my best not to. Meat’s annoying, but the only thing he’s tricked me into doing so far is visiting you.” Johnny turned to face her again.

“Why would the parasite want that? He wants you to kill me for real this time?”

Johnny stayed quiet at that, knowing the answer was more disgusting than murder in Devi’s eyes.

“No. Meat doesn’t want me to kill, not yet anyway. He wants me to… live. Consume. Consume to excess. And he knows that as far as my… “feelings” go, the only person I’d want in excess is,” He hesitated. “you.”

Devi’s nostril curled at the implication.

“He wants to use me as your distraction this time, huh? That I’ll be the one to preoccupy your mind while he eats away at what’s left of your creativity?”

“I guess.”

“The fuck he will.” She growled as she walked toward him, and Johnny braced himself a moment, preparing to dart in any direction should she move to bludgeon him. Instead her hand settled on her door, pressing it firmly shut before locking the main deadbolt.

“I’ve mangled one parasite, I have no problem mangling another.” Her eyes met his again, and his knees wobbled at the intensity. “I’m tired of these things fucking with me. Sit your ass down, we’re going to talk more.”

Johnny could only hurriedly do as she said. 

--

NEXT.