#vera: ...a stuffed dog

[dashuisofanubis]

Okay I know its probably obvious, but I've only just realised that Vera brought Delores (her stuffed dog) just to gain Victor's trust, and I'd love to know how the conversation about it between her and Rufus went down beforehand

[strange-august]

Tag Yourself as Aesthetics I resonate with

Changelingcore: Broken insect wings, wildflower meadows, catching tadpoles, lingering mist after it rains, wet shoes from the damp grass, the feeling of moss under your hands, collection of strange trinkets and objects, taking your stuffed animals on adventures, doodling on your clothes, busy hands, wading knee deep into a lake, screaming into the air to ease frustration, organizing and reorganizing your treasures, bird calls, animal howls, digging in the mud, chewing on your lip until it bleeds, bruises and scrapes, the urge to live in the woods and never return to regular society, knotted hair, forest shrines, putting flower blossoms in your hair, flooded swampy areas, jumping from short cliffs

Suburban Gothic: Hot muggy air sticking to your skin, the buzz of florescent lights, flickering street lights, budget popsicles, late night drug store visits, muffled arguments, an old clock ticking, guady wallpaper, gossamer curtains, dusty cotton sheets, faded quilts, dog barkings, milkshakes in an empty diner, broken windows and graffiti, abandoned train tracks, 24/7 laundromats, rusty swingsets, shadowy silhouettes, semi-abandoned malls, sounds of far off traffic and train horns, driving around at night while soft music plays on the radio, tv static, junk yards and pick-n-pulls, holding hands with a stranger, urban legends, varsity jackets, broken glass on the road, crumbling buildings, local television channels

Cuddle Party: Excited giggles and hushed whispers, condensation on drinkware, running through an empty field hollering and whooping in the dead of night, sitting on the porch in rocking chairs, drunken "I love you"s, old cartoons, classic disney movies, five dollar pizza and breadsticks, singing out loud in the car, finding new places to explore, county fairs and arcade visits, eating fair food and screaming your lungs out on rides, trying to earn as many tickets at the arcade and still winning cheap prizes, being the last one to fall asleep, casually sleeping all together in the same bed, holding hands in crowds, if one of us isn't having a good time none of us are, wondering how long these days will last

Cryptid Academia: Listening to video essays while sketching cryptids, exploring abandoned buildings (legally and illegally), pocket knives, blackout curtains, newspaper clippings, viewing the night sky through a telescope, visiting natural history or science museums, old typewriters, info dumping conspiracy theories on friends, making plans to investigate that never come to fruition, tearing yet another hole into your clothes climbing over fences, shoddily patched up clothes, keychains and aluminum pins, novelty socks, analog watches, Buzzfeed Unsolved, cryptid podcasts, sprint training so you can outrun whatever is chasing you, rubiks cubes, sore fingers from mending, thrift shopping, essays only about cryptids

Desertwave: Billowing winds, sandstorms, wind chimes and suncatchers, succulents in handmade clay pots, aloe vera plants on the kitchen windowsill, the distant howl of a coyote, faded winnebagos, the soft hiss of patio misters, campsites and trailer parks, large rock formations covered in graffiti, picking up trash, the crackle of a bonfire, cacti and joshua trees in the backyard, never getting the sand completely out of your shoes, dusty clothes, laying in a hammock watching the stars, water balloon fights, hot springs, mexican ice cream bars, rocky desert mountains, plots of sand and plants that stretch on as far as the eye can see

[vanilla-cigarillos]

A History of Vampires

Vampy vampy vampires! I’m not talking about Twilight; today I want to make a post talking about the real cultural significance of vampires in different folk beliefs around the world.

What Is A Vampire?

“...a mythical creature that subsists by feeding on the vital essence (generally in the form of blood) of the living.”

- Good ol’ Wikipedia

When we think of vampires, we picture Dracula in his brooding cloak sucking the life out of others. We see those characteristic fangs, an aversion to garlic, and a fatal vulnerability to sunlight. 

Vampiric creatures have been noted in cultures around the world for generations. 

A History of “Vampires” (Popularized in the West)

Cultures such as the Mesopotamians, Ancient Greeks, and Manipuri have folk tales of entities that are now considered to be precursors to modern-day vampires. Despite such occurrences of vampiric creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for what most consider vampires today comes almost exclusively from early 18-thcentury Southeastern Europe. 

The term “vampire” itself was popularized in Western Europe after reports of mass hysteria during the 18th-century. Said hysteria originated from a pre-existing folk belief in Southeastern and Eastern Europe that in some cases ended in corpses being staked, and some people were even persecuted under the accusation of vampirism.

Early folk beliefs in vampires has typically been summed up to pre-existing ignorance of how the body would decompose after death, with people attempting to explain such decay through the existence of vampires.

The more personable and charismatic version of the vampire, born in fiction, came in 1819 with the publication of The Vampyre by John Polidori. Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula in 1897 would later on provide the basis of the modern vampire legend and be remembered as the most significant vampire novel in literature. However, it is worth noting that Stoker’s novel came after the publication of the 1872 novel Carmilla, published by Irish author Sheridan Le Fanu. 

Folk Beliefs

In Slavic and Chinese folk traditions, any corpse that was jumped over by an animal (especially a dog or cat) was feared to become a “vampire”. There was also believed to be a risk with a body having any wound that wasn’t treated with boiling water.

In Russian folklore, vampires were said to have been witches or people who had rebelled against the Russian Orthodox Church while alive. 

Within Jewish traditions, “alukah” is synonymous with vampires. The creature is said to be a living human being, but can change into a wolf. It also has the ability to fly by releasing its long hair, and would eventually die if not allowed to feed on blood for an extended amount of time. Once dead, a vampire could be prevented from becoming a demon by being buried with its mouth stuffed with soil.

Albanian mythology discusses both the “shtriga” and the “dhampir”. Shtriga is a vampiric witch that sucks blood from infants while they sleep at night, then turning into a flying insect. Only a shtriga could cure those she drained blood from. A cross made of pig bone could be placed at the entrance of a church on Easter Sunday, which would render any shtriga inside unable to leave. Then, they could be captured and killed. 

The Ashanti people in West Africa have folk tales of the iron-toothed and tree-dwelling “asanbosam” which can take the form of a firefly and hunts for children for their blood.

The Betsileo people of Madagascar have stories of “ramanga”, a vampire who drinks the blood and eats the nail clippings of nobles.

The Mapuche of southern Chile have stories of a bloodsucking snake known as “Peuchen”, with aloe vera being hung backwards behind or near a door to ward off vampiric entities across a variety of South American superstition. 

Aztec mythology has folk tales of the Cihuateteo, which are skeletal-faced spirits of humans who died in childbirth. These entities were said to steal children, and entered into sexual liaisons with the living, which would drive them to insanity.

[evolutionsvoid]

Eucella: "Why can't you just buy normal toys for her like everyone else?"

Chlora: "Oh c'mon, Eucella! You've seen the meager selections they have at the stores! Bears, bunnies and puppy dogs! That's it! What a pathetic variety! If you can even call it that! The natural world is filled with countless wonderful and amazing species, and they only care to make plushies of less than a millionth of a percent of them!"

Eucella: "Is giving Vera a stuffed bunny really that bad? It's not going to radically change her view of the natural world! I mean, her favorite toy before all this was a bucket, I don't think she puts that much thought into her play times."

Chlora: "You say that, but look at her! She absolutely loves them! She's already ten steps ahead of every other person in the world in appreciating the beauty and wonder in the strange and bizarre! While others shriek and fret over the likes of a penanggalan, she's awed by the sight! She gets her good taste from her dear sweet ama, that's for sure!"

Eucella: "She does seem to be enjoying them, so I can't complain too much there. I can only imagine the face the seamstress made when you gave them these designs. Not every day someone asks you to make a stuffed dragon eater..."

Chlora: "Oh she was thrilled to finally get something new in her commissions, I am sure. Any artist appreciates some variety in their work! Look, Vera, look at this funny little fella! This lil guy is a Raudkembingur! Can you say Raudkembingur?"

Eucella: "Chlora..."

-----------------------------------------------------

"Peculiar Plushies"

Vera, as a sapling, enjoying the perks of having a natural historian/zoologist as a mom. This house doesn't do plain ol teddy bears and stuffed bunnies! Not going to lie, having a plushie of one of my species would probably make my heart explode from sheer joy.

[yackers]

opinion on the victor, vera, rufus triangulation

ooo!! it's something I've always found interesting because when it comes the the adults there's always soo much implied but very little said. I've always assumed that vera was a con woman rufus hired specifically because their minds worked the same way, especially in regards to the art of war, and he knew victor well enough to know that if it had worked before it would work again. he obviously then instructed her on his specific interests too (the stuffed dog) but I very much think that their power dynamic that they fell into very much mirrored the one rufus and and victor had back when they were young.

also I don't know if I read it this way because it was a children's show that didn't wanna gross out kids with the adult's romantic lives but I never really saw victor as romantically interested in vera? like he definitely grew fond of her and wanted to protect her in a way that I think he was like with sarah, but vera was clearly trying to play him in a romantic way and I always found it interesting the way that victor always went back to the book and the tunnels when she tried to steer it away. whether or not I even believe he likes women that way is another thing but I do find it interesting that rufus chose to take down victor and use him by trying to get him to fall in love and the implications that this has about their own relationship and what went so wrong in the past.

I also always really liked the way the show used vera to represent greed in regards to monetary value in opposition to victor and rufus' respective drive towards immortality and power. I think it helped to make them higher stakes antagonists in comparison to a con woman who literally ran out when it all got too weird and mystical

[figmentrinzler]

I'll ask for chamomile AND camellia  from you 😌😂 and how about aloe vera too

chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts? Anything homemade, because I know my friends or family put love into the gift. I also really like it when someone buys anything that makes them think of me, be it something small like a stuffed dog or something they know I collect like enamel pins and records. camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

I was much more outgoing and extroverted as a child. I think my trauma changed me in that way. But one thing that still stayed the same for sure was my love of Figment.

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

Well, I could be super lame and say finding a partner, because I do, since I'm panromantic asexual.

But also, I want to go on a vacation with a friend. My parents did it all the time when they were in their early 20s, and I'm past that and still haven't.

[seraphinitegames]

Is N's favorite animal a rabbit? I remember they called Vera's daughter "rabbit" when they interacted with her and on the carnival scene the detective has a chance to give them a stuffed rabbit toy if they win at the shooting game that N kept in their room. I love N so muchhhh

Their favourite animals is probably more likely dogs.

It’s more the nickname of ‘Rabbit’ that has meaning to them.

Thank you so much for the ask! :)

[lostinthewiind]

Brave Heart: Chapter Twenty-Two

Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: sexual themes, death, gore, mature themes, extreme violence, body horror, blood, weapons, major character death, age-gap relationship

Feeling a soft touch on her shoulder, little Vera opened her eyes to see her mother smiling down at her. The bedroom window was open and the cool morning breeze was blowing in, fluttering the curtain ever so slightly. Feeling the chill on the tip of her nose, Vera pulled the thin blanket up to her chin and shivered.

"Good morning, Vee-Bee." Silvia bent down to kiss her daughter on the forehead.

Shaking her head against the pillow, further tangling her light hair, Vera pouted. "I don't wanna get up! It's too cold."

"Oh, is that so?" Silvia straightened herself up before heading for the door. "Well, then I guess your father and I will have to go and see the flowers by ourselves then."

Vera's wide eyes lit up at that. "Flowers?!" She shot upright like a spring. "I wanna come!"

"Then you have to get out of bed and get dressed, my sweet girl." Silvia smiled as she opened one of the drawers on the old splintering wardrobe and pulled out Vera's warmest sweater. "And make sure you bundle up. It's cold, you know."

Throwing the covers off of herself, Vera leapt out of bed like her life depended on it and quickly threw her clothes on. Once she had her sweater on—a sweater that was so thick, it nearly made her arms stick straight out on either side—she stuffed her feet into the pair of boots with the least amount of holes that she owned and rushed toward the front door.

"I wanna go now!" Vera chanted as she jumped up and down in front of the door like a dog eager to go outside for a walk. "Come on! You said we could go see the flowers!"

"Patience, little one." Vera's father, Mattias, chuckled lowly to himself. Grabbing a scarf out of his jacket pocket, he knelt down and began wrapping it around her neck. "Can you still breathe in there?"

Vera, who had been so wrapped up that only her bright blue eyes were showing, flashed a thumbs up. "I'm ready!" her voice was muffled by the scarf.

"Okay, let's go."

As soon as Mattias opened the front door, Vera ran outside and started down the street, not even bothering to wait for her parents, who were walking hand-in-hand behind her at a much slower pace.

It was so early in the morning, that the rest of the city seemed almost deserted. The sun was just beginning to peek over the wall and into Shiganisha, so the morning frost on the grass and gardens had yet to melt away. The morning breeze was chilly, but it was also refreshing. When Vera exhaled, she could see her breath in front of her face for just a second.

Running up ahead, Vera kept looking back over her shoulder at her parents. "Can't you guys walk any faster?" she huffed, pulling the scarf down to free her mouth.

"Be patient," Mattias told her as he scooped her into his arms and poked the tip of her little nose with his finger. "The flowers will still be there. I promise they won't get up and walk away."

"It doesn't matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop," Silvia said with a grin. "My mother used to tell me that. And now, I'm telling you, my love. There's no need to rush."

Vera's brows knit together. "Okay . . . fine."

With that, the family of three continued on their way. Mattias held Vera tightly, keeping her as warm as possible as they passed through the gate in wall Maria and continued into the open fields.

As soon as Vera caught sight of the multicoloured flowers in the distance, she began to squirm in her father's arms. With a booming laugh, Mattias let her down and watched happily as she ran forward, not even slowing a bit as she reached the sea of pink and purple and red and yellow.

With a smile that spread from ear to ear, Vera threw herself into the field, giggling and watching with awe as butterflied and bumblebees took flight all around her.

It was moments like that—moments where they were all together and enjoying life—that were the best. In those moments, they could forget about the fact that they were dirt poor and struggling to put food on the table every night. They could forget about the fact that they went to bed cold and hungry more often than not and that little Vera would probably never know what it was like to want for nothing—at least while she was living under their roof.

But on those mornings, when the rest of the city was asleep and the flowers were in full bloom and they had free time, Vera's smile made all the struggling and working for pittance worth it. As long as she could still experience joy in her life, then that gave her parents the motivation to keep pushing forward; to keep hoping that someday, they would be able to turn things around and give Vera all the things she deserved.

Smile and eyes as bright as the sun, Vera turned to her parents, mouth hung open as a butterfly landed right on her hand. She was vibrating with joy, barely able to contain her excitement. The butterfly's wings fluttered a few times before it flew away, zig-zagging across the field to find another flower to land on.

"Did you see that, Mom?" Vera exclaimed. "It landed right on me!"

"I did!" Silvia nodded enthusiastically. "It could sense your kind heart. Animals have a special way of judging a person's character."

Vera gasped. "So the butterfly liked me?"

"I think so." Silvia waded into the field of flowers herself and hoisted Vera into her arms so she could see just how far the field of colours stretched in every direction. "Would you like to pick a flower to bring home with us?"

Vera went quiet, her face scrunched up as she thought. "No." She decided. "If we bring one home, it will die and then I'll get sad. I want to remember the flowers like this instead."

Silvia hugged her daughter tightly. "You are the light of my life, Vee-Bee. I love you."

Vera giggled. "I love you too, Mommy."

Catching the pair off guard, Mattias snuck up from behind and wrapped his arms around them. "Don't I get any love?"

"I love you too, Daddy!" Vera shouted loud enough for it to echo over the quiet fields. Silvia and Mattias laughed heartily, holding each other and their daughter for what felt like hours. If they could, they would have stayed like that for the rest of their lives and never returned to the harsh reality that was waiting for them back on the other side of the wall.

Of course, nothing lasts forever; not the good or the bad. Not happy moments with the ones you hold dearest, or even memories of such.

If Silvia of Mattias knew that that was one of the last times they were to be together as a family, maybe they would have stayed a little longer, held each other a little tighter, said 'I love you' a few more times.

If Vera had known, even at that young age, that it was one of the last times she would ever see her mother, maybe she wouldn't have run off into the flowers to play by herself for quite as long. Maybe she would have tried to remember that day at all, but as things currently stood, she didn't.

Vera didn't remember that specific day in the flowers. She didn't remember the butterflies, or her mom and dad hugging her, or even what her mother had said to her about not rushing life.

If it weren't for the photo Vera had of her parents, she was convinced she might not even remember what they looked like.

If only she hadn't forgotten everything and everyone she loved; but when she closed her eyes and tried to remember, all she saw was a sea of colours, followed by a warm feeling in her chest.

[the--blackdahlia]

So Long Old Buddy

Title: So Long Old Buddy

Summary:  Hawkeye gets a package from Boston.

Warnings: It’s kinda a tearjerker guys

AN:  In the MASH Matters podcast, a writer for the show talks about how he trolled the writers for Trapper John MD by saying he was going to write an episode of Hawkeye going to pieces learnings of the death of his old friend Trapper. Well, here you go!

“Nothing like a quiet day to enjoy the three m’s,” Hawkeye said as he lounged on his cot. BJ looked over from his own, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, and what exactly are the three m’s?”

“Martinis, mellow atmosphere and...more martinis.”

“All the things in life you need.” BJ laughed.

“Right!” Hawkeye laughed. BJ shook his head as Radar came in, mail bag over his shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Radar. Come to partake in our mellow atmosphere?”

“I don’t think he can do the two m’s.” BJ commented.

“What?” Radar asked, confused. “Is it because I’m short?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Hawkeye laughed. “Got anything good for us?”

“Letters for Captain Hunnicutt,” Radar handed him his letters, which he quickly drove into. “A letter from your dad Hawkeye, and a package from Boston.”

“Boston?” Hawkeye asked. “I think I once knew a girl from Boston.”

“Was she related to the man from Nantucket?” BJ asked without looking up from his letter.

“Oh god I hope so,” Hawkeye smirked.

“What?” Radar asked.

“I’ll explain when you’re older.” Hawkeye laughed, to which Radar glared and marched out. Hawkeye laid the letter from his dad to the side and looked at the brown wrapped package. It was addressed to him. He wasn’t sure who it could be from, until he saw the return address in the corner.

The McIntyre’s.

“Ah ha!” Hawkeye laughed. “Oh, that old son of a bitch!”

“What? Who?” BJ asked.

“Trapper! This package is from him!” HAwkeye said excitedly. “God, what could it be? Knowing him, he probably stuffed it full of paper and put a chocolate bar in it or something.” BJ just laughed as Hawkeye tore into the box.

There was brown paper in it, and on top of it was a letter in an envelope. Hawkeye took the envelope and opened it.

Captain Pierce,

You probably don’t really know me outside of stories that John has told you. And who knows what kind of things he said then. My name is Louise McIntyre, and I’m John’s wife. I wasn’t sure how to best tell you this, so I just thought I’d write you a letter, because I’m not sure if I could find it in myself to utter the words.

John was in Chicago for a job interview. A very nice position at a hospital in the heart of the city. Becky, Kathy, and our son JT were there with him. He had gone to the hospital while myself and the kids went to have a day in the city. John never came back. He was hit by an impaired driver when he went to go at a stop light. The driver hit his side of the car, trapping him inside. John only survived about twelve hours afterwards. I’m sorry I have to tell you. I really wish I didn’t have to. I sent you a few things of John’s that I thought you would want. I don’t expect a letter back.

All the best,

Louise McIntyre

Hawkeye let the letter slip from his hands as he stared forward. BJ noticed a change in the tent and looked up from his own letter, a frown on his face when he saw Hawkeye’s face.

“Hawk?” He asked. “You okay?”

“T-Trapper…”

“What?”

“Trapper’s dead.” Hawkeye finally said it. He didn’t think he’d be able to, but he did. “Oh god.”

“Oh man.” BJ moved to sit by him. “What happened?”

“Car accident in Chicago.” Hawkeye whispered. “He got hit.” BJ nodded and moved the box so he could properly sit on Hawkeye’s cot.

“That big of a box for a death letter?” BJ asked. Hawkeye snapped out of his daze and took the box, pulling back the brown paper to look inside. There wasn’t much in there. Trapper’s pair of glasses with the fake nose were in there, which made Hawkeye laugh.

“I got us each a pair of these from a little booth in Seoul,” Hawkeye smiled fondly, even though BJ could see the tears in his eyes. “These came in handy during many pranks.” Hawkeye paused for a moment. “He wore these for a whole day when Tommy Gillis died on my table.”

“Who’s Tommy Gillis?”

“My childhood best friend.” Hawkeye closed his eyes for a second before setting the glasses back in the box and pulling out the next item. A single dog tag. “John F. X. McIntrye.” BJ watched as Hawkeye ran his thumb over the cool metal before laying it back in the box. Just a few things remained, most of them pictures. They were things that Trapper took back with him to remember Hawkeye by. Pictures of the two of them smiling, laughing, annoying Frank, and other things. BJ watched as Hawkeye started to laugh and told him stories behind the pictures. The way he told everything made BJ feel like he had been there, like he knew Trapper as well.

Finally, as Hawkeye was about to put the pictures back in the box, he saw an envelope. He was addressed to him, with Trapper’s name and return address on it, with no stamp. Pulling it out, he opened it, almost dreading what it said.

Hey Hawkeye,

I bet you’re still wondering why I didn’t leave a letter behind or anything. I tried, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t want it to feel like I was saying goodbye, because when you get home, I’m coming to Crabapple Cove and dragging you to a football game. I know how much you like those. But there will be beer, and hey, you could bring some of that good stuff back in the thermos I left behind.

I’ve been sitting here in this office for a little bit, not sure what to write. Louise and I had a little boy nine months after I got back home. He’s named after his old man, so I guess he’s going to be the best looking kid in his school. Also, the girls say hi. They saw a picture of us that I have sitting in my office. I think Becky has a crush on you. Her cheeks get all pink and she runs off. They’re growing up so fast. I can’t wait for you to meet them.

I hope you don’t mind, but I went over to Crabapple Cove and met your dad. We had lunch, and he seemed to enjoy the stories I told him. Don’t worry, I kept the really scandalous ones away from him. Don’t want him thinking I’m a bad influence or something. He’s really a cool cat, but you knew that already, because he is your dad after all. He said he’s proud of you, he misses you, and his lobster bisque just doesn’t taste the same without you.

Anyway, I need to be going. We’re going to pick up a new car here soon. Louise wanted a Ford, I wanted a Chevy, so we compromised and got a Ford. Anyway, I’ll be seeing you when you get back to the world. Don’t be surprised if I kiss you in the airport.

So long old buddy,

Trapper

And that’s when it hit. The tears were heavy down Hawkeye’s face. Fat tears full of pain. He was supposed to be safe over there. There wasn’t a war going on three miles from where he slept. He was supposed to watch his kids grow up. He was supposed to lose those curls due to old age.

He was supposed to take Hawkeye to a football game to drink beer and pretend they had met someplace, anyplace else.

But instead, all Hawkeye could do was cry.

****

A week later, Radar had music playing over the PA as Hawkeye sat in his chair, reading a book. It was a beautiful day outside, and some of the guys were playing a game. BJ opened the door to the Swamp.

“Come on Hawk. I need some more muscle on my team.”

“I thought you had Margaret.” Hawkeye mumbled, not looking up.

“Yeah, well she got mad at me and defected to Igor’s side. Come on.” BJ sighed. “I’ll do your laundry next week if we win.”

“Now you’re talking.” Hawkeye shut his book and got up as Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” played over the PA. With his lucky Hawaiian shirt on, Hawkeye grabbed his favorite hat from his cot, smiling for a moment at the framed picture of him and Trapper, before he followed BJ out.

[porcupiney]

DO U GOTS ANY DAMIEN HCS

I Have So Fucking Many

• this is kind of canon already but he’s a movie buff.. 2 of his biggest cameos (stick of truth and blu) were in the movie theater. important shit ALSO i like that he enjoys movies considering he’s a parody of a movie

• stan and kenny are idiots sorta... cause damien does not have a mom... satan is gay... satan went to god at one point like 10 years ago and was like “heyyyyy so i’m gonna die eventually and shit and someone’s gonna need to take over hell..... can i have a kid” and then a week later he came home and there was a fuckin baby asleep on his couch and the baby had mad eyebrow game

• DAMIEN AND SATAN HAVE A CERBERUS. her name is rosa. shes a (tri-)pitbull, she’s very sweet but could also bite your head off if you aren’t careful. she protects damien with her life, and she has since he was a baby

• damien helped christophe get over his fear/trauma associated with dogs by having little therapy sessions with rosa!!!

• damien is chubby. you can kill me on that fucking hill.

• listen... ok... damien cares a lot.... he’s really trying BUT ITS HARD!! when you haven’t interacted with your peers ever!! in your life!!! be nice to him

• he collects vinyl records :)

• every couple has a specific song that is Theirs... dip’s is We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn and i better not have to explain why

• i’ve said this before but he likes tdcc

• satan is the only one allowed to call him Damie. also satan’s other nickname for him is Demon

• he loves his daaaaaaaaad 🥺

• someone teach this kid that more food exists than pizza rolls and hot cheetos....... idiot

• YES he plays minecraft YES he steals your diamonds straight from your chest YES he griefs you NO he does not kill your dogs (he does not steal pip’s diamonds because pip was really really really excited and proud when he found them cause he sucks at video games also damien loves pip and wouldn’t do it to him anyway)

• you know he had to do it to em 🤷

• he has lots of stuffed animals !!!! he loves them. would never ever be mean to them

• HES SCARED OF THUNDER earth weather is freaky.......

• his voice always stays that high motherfuckers!!! @/southparkpitchshifts has a video of damien pitched down to matt’s voice again. that’s legit what he sounds like post puberty. he owns it. Yes He’s The Ruler Of Hell Yes He Sounds Like A Mouse On Cocaine Yes He Exists

• he’s a trans boy

• going on T did not change his voice at all 😔 BUT it was never something he was dysphoric about anyway so it’s ok (also it’s not like it’s inherently feminine... he still sounds plenty masculine it’s just real high pitched)

• hes gay

• I DREW THIS ONCE.... IF HES REEEEALLY FUCKING ANGRY (IM TALKING FURIOUS) HIS HAIR JUST TURNS INTO A BUNCH OF FIRE

• likewise if he’s really happy or excited or enjoying himself little campfire sparks will fly from his body!!!!!!!!! he do be made of fire

• hes got wings and a demon tail that he can use Magic Demon Power to conceal when he’s on earth (but he sorta stops giving a shit after a while. he’s gay and also stronger than anyone in south park so they better not try any shit)

• i mean, he’s not neurotypical

• pip teaches him to waltz :)

swear to god i have more lying around but that’s all i got right now. i laid this list out clear as day now stop characterizing him incorrectly (and thank u gentle anon for your interest in the damien-ridden hellscape that is my brain)

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, platonic Brian/Oz/Zoe

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 2/?. WARNINGS— smut, alcoholism, depression, mentions of csa, childhood abuse, medical horror; After Damien and Vicky share a night of passion, trouble brews.

Home was supposed to feel cozy and lived-in.

Vicky vaguely remembered her childhood with her mom and sisters. That was home. She remembered her biweekly visitation with her dad too. His home was cold and smelled like dog urine and beer. His car smelled like cold metal, and then it smelled like a gas fire after he wrapped it around a pole. She remembered the smell of her dad's breath as he screamed at her to buckle up, like putrefaction. She remembered what her blood smelled like when her head collided with the dashboard.

Since the accident, she hadn't felt at home. Gary was the man who reanimated Vicky. His lab was hard and cold. He was never really affectionate towards her. Once Gary died of mercury poisoning, his brother Eugene took her in, and that was never home, not after the things he did to her. Even Vicky’s apartment wasn't home.

She wasn't ready to stay in a place so hollow.

"Can you stay the night?" Vicky asked. Damien walked her home after they loitered on campus several hours after the school day ended.

"Yeah. My dads won't mind."

Vicky guided Damien inside and he kicked off his shoes by the door. "This is cute," he complimented.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Booze?"

"Wassail?"

"Is… is that booze?"

Vicky forgot he didn't celebrate Christmas. "I'll get you some whiskey."

"Thanks, babe."

Vicky returned with two glasses of single malt whiskey. When she sat next to Damien, he crossed his legs and gazed upon her. "So, bank robbery. What got you into that?"

"I like being independent. It'd hard juggling school and my social life when I need to pay rent. Robbery is a huge payout every couple of weeks, so I can cover my bills and have plenty extra to play around with," she explained. "Vera is a fantastic partner as well. I wouldn't get half as much as I do without her."

"Are you guys, like, friends? Does Vera even have friends?"

"I feel like she’s my friend," she said. "If we’re asking questions, though, why are you going to a public school? You're the motherfucking prince of Hell. I'm sure there are a plethora of academics at your dads’ disposal that could instruct you better than any of our teachers. You’d probably learn stuff that would be more relevant to ruling over Hell.”

"I wanted to go to school up here. It's not that I feel out of place, but it's refreshing not constantly feeling like people are sucking up to me up here for their own benefit. I prefer being sucked up to for being feared."

"I'm sure you'd rather be sucked off."

His face darkened with his blush. "Well, yes, but… God, you are forward."

Vicky was pretty forward. As curious as she was about Damien's other love interest, she hoped to avoid those heavy topics so soon. But she was bored, and she was a whore, so the obvious solution was to fuck.

She set her whiskey aside, and Damien downed the remainder of his. She crawled on top of him. She kissed him, kissed across his jaw, and scraped her teeth against his earlobe. Damien purred. With one hand, he pulled her back to his lips. He licked her lips with his broad tongue. When he slipped inside, he massaged the roof of her mouth. He pulled her shirt up to her shoulders and she pulled away from him to undress and discard her clothing.

"You're gorgeous," he said. He stroked the underside of her breasts. Vicky bit her lip and smiled down at him. "These are amazing. No wonder you're so popular," he told her with a fistful of her breasts in hand.

Vicky pried Damien's hands off her chest and kissed his neck. She kissed down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his belly. His hips bucked when she licked his erection through his pants.

"Fuck," he groaned. He unbuttoned his pants, and then lifted his hips so Vicky easily slipped his pants off. She held his erection in one hand as she languidly licked up his shaft. She tasted his precum on his head. When she slipped it into her mouth and lapped at the opening, his fingers combed through her hair. She swallowed him down to his base, where she smelled his sweat on his bladder. His breath rattled in his lungs. She only bobbed a handful of times before he grasped her chin and the back of her head, which effectively pinned her in place, and fucked her face. It touched her voice box, she gurgled, and it was delightful. She held his thighs to prevent from touching herself.

His thigh muscles quivered as he pulled out. Saliva and precum dripped onto Vicky’s chin. She smiled up at him. “You’re a freak, babe,” he hoarsed.

“Fuck me,” Vicky mewled. Damien vanished her pants and underwear like a magician. He dropped her legs over his shoulders, and held one of her quads as he positioned himself. Vicky’s moan echoed through her apartment. He was so long, he continuously massaged the nerve endings inside of her, and it made her legs spasm around his neck.

“God,” he groaned, “you’re amazing. I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion.”

“Like a toy?” she whined. Like a pretty doll he took everywhere. She wanted to be wanted by him so badly.

“Like a toy,” he concurred. He grabbed the arm of her sofa and pounded her unmercifully. It was like he hammered heat and bliss into her gut and it crept up to her chest and face. Her chest heaved. She ran her fingers through Damien’s silky hair. He kissed her palm, and when her hand drifted down his jaw, he caught two of her fingers in his mouth. He parted her pointer and middle fingers with his tongue and licked the webbing between them like he did when he wanted to be a crass, nasty bastard. As juvenile and stupid as it was, it pushed Vicky closer to the edge, like all he wanted was to lay between her legs and eat her like a lollipop.

Damien grunted. His thrusts became sloppy. With his eyes glued to her, he pumped her full of his seed. She watched him finish with a patient smile. He was so cute when he climaxed.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as he pulled his flaccid cock out of her. His cum coated him. It oozed onto her thighs. He pulled her lips open and watched it flow. When he looked back up at her, he had that awful, shit-eating grin that always went straight to her groin, and then said, “I’m gonna clean you up, baby.”

Vicky was helpless against his whims. She only whimpered as he scooted down to her pussy like a dream come true.

First, Damien licked up her. She covered her warm face. Already, he was so wonderful, overwhelming, fantastical. Three licks into his prize, a prize because Vicky felt as golden as a trophy, his pointed tongue pressed on. He lapped up his cum like a hungry cat, he even plunged inside and sucked it out. When he finished, he did a slow, torturous victory lap up to her clitoris that made her beg.

She grabbed his horn and pulled him against her crotch as hard as she possibly could have. He seemed to enjoy it. Damien pushed his fingers into her, and then he hooked them against the roof of her canal, and in conjunction with his oral treatment, it made her squirm and press herself against him, unable to conjure the means to tell him to go harder, faster.

“I love you, Damien,” Vicky finally gasped as her fingers ran through his silky hair, “please keep going!”

Damien picked up the pace. Her legs clenched around his impish ears. Vicky was helpless, because Damien was a fucking expert and her own whorishness worked against her. Her chest locked up. It was like she was overcome with a tidal wave of heat and loveliness.

Vicky helplessly laid as her chest heaved. Down and down she went, until she finally rolled her eyes forward to meet Damien's face on her chest. He wiped cum off his chin and then kissed her. "You're pretty metal, babe,” he said, “you held out for awhile."

"I have experience," she said. "Can we go lay down? This isn't the best place for post-coital snuggling."

Damien pulled Vicky to her feet. Inside her bedroom, she fell onto her bed, blissful and sated, secure in Damien's arms. Vera told her time and time that her relationship with men wasn't healthy, and Vicky knew her self-esteem was fueled by whoever her partner happened to be. But Vicky was an addict. She couldn't help herself.

"I love you, Vicky," Damien told her, as his fingertips traced her side.

She smiled. "I love you too, Damien," and all was well with the world.

---

Vicky and Damien went to school together, hand-in-hand, until Vera and Liam caught them together, and whisked her away to gossip.

“Sweet mother of god,” Liam said as they power walked to the back of campus, “did you guys spend the night together?"

“Yes,” Vicky replied.

“Like, in your bed?”

“... yeah. He’s my boyfriend. The loveseat isn’t long enough for him to sleep on to begin with. That’d be like stuffing a banana into a really tiny tupperware container, or a croc in a storm drain.”

“Where the hell do you come up with these comparisons? You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to know,” Liam said. “Let’s rewind. First of all, I wanna know how all this happened. I’ve known Damien for a couple of years now and I don’t think he’s been with anyone who he’s come to school with.”

“Oh boy. I’ve been trying to get this to happen for awhile now, so I’ll give you the condensed version. Apparently, we liked each other, and were just too stubborn to talk about it until Vera made us talk about it yesterday.”

Vera sighed. “You know that’s not it.”

“Well, we did it last night,” Vicky replied.

"Wait, what? Mother of God, you two work fast. Was it any good?"

"It was fantastic," Vicky sighed wistfully. "He lasted forever, first of all. But he was so good. He finished in me, and then he got in there and cleaned it up with his mouth."

"Oh. Oh wow, that's hot," Liam mumbled.

"That… that is actually really hot, but that wasn't what I meant."

“Vera, are you talking about Damien’s polyamory?” Liam asked.

Apparently everyone but Vicky knew about it. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. "When we talked about it yesterday, it really stressed him out."

"Vicky…" Vera sighed, "I understand you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but you need to ask him about this. You deserve to know."

The way Vera talked about it, like Damien was a diseased whore and Vicky needed his bill of health, put her on edge. "We can talk about it when he's ready. I don't mind sharing Damien, and if it's someone likable enough, I might even partake myself. But this is something that really upsets him when he has to talk about it."

Vera stopped in front of Vicky, arms crossed over her chest and a look as stony as her victims. "You're his fucking girlfriend," Vera said. "I don't care if it makes him uncomfortable. You deserve his honesty. He doesn't get to pull the mysterious boyfriend shit like he's the love interest from a young adult novel, you two are partners, and he has to behave as such. No secrets. No beating around the bush."

"You're not being fair to Damien. He's not trying to hide things from Vicky. He's not the brightest, most socially skilled guy, but he's a good friend," Liam said.

"Is it fair to Vicky that she has to wonder who this other guy is?"

"That's enough," Vicky snapped. "I see your point Vera. I'll ask him about who else he's interested in, but I'm not gonna push. I know you're implying he might be keeping other partners a secret. But I trust Damien. He hasn't given me a reason to distrust him in the last year I've known him. He's sweet, he's just more awkward than he likes to let on, like Liam said. But I know you guys are just looking out for me, so I'll keep you guys in the loop. We'll talk about it if there's something that's setting off alarm bells for you."

Vera gritted her teeth. "Fine. Out of respect for you, I'll stand down. Just remember you deserve only the best."

"Thank you," Vicky replied with a grateful smile.

---

Oz’s goo churned. He wondered what made him so nervous. Everything was so peaceful, and Zoe hummed atonally as she scribbled in her notebook.

“Zoe,” Oz whispered, “do you feel like something terrible is going to happen?”

“I don’t feel like much of anything right now,” she replied. “Are you okay? Oz?”

He exhaled. His eyes went dark.

And then Oz was in a lab. Rather, it was like he watched through a fisheye lens from his chest. He folded saran wrap around kilos of cocaine. He didn’t care much for coke, he certainly wanted nowhere near a coke house to begin with.

“Put your fucking hands up!”

His head whipped up. Oz saw the spiral of the rifle’s barrel and then a flash.

He trembled. He tasted cotton candy and he was fucking exhausted.

“Oz!” Zoe bled into his vision like water color. “Oh my god, Oz, are you okay? You started convulsing and speaking in tongues, and as hot as that was---”

“Stop, Zoe,” Oz groaned. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“Oz, what the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he massaged between his eyes. “I was… I was in this lab wrapping drugs, and then I think I was shot point blank.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible,” Zoe said. “That’s so vivid…. I thought you were just having a seizure because of my awesome fic. I think you had a premonition, though. At least that's how my premonitions have been happening since I've inhabited this form. Our friends could be in danger, we have to investigate this.”

Oz held his head. Zoe was right, but he was scared. What if they were too late? As old as Oz was, he wasn’t omnipotent.

---

For hours, Vicky pondered Vera’s argument. Vera, of course, was right. She didn’t know much about Damien’s love life to begin with. The more Vicky thought about it, the more it seemed like something that they should have discussed from the get-go.

Still, she was nervous. She picked at her dinner. Damien had already gone through three servings and the only thing Vicky had done with her food is turned it into a weird, macerated pile of pasta and beef.

"Are you gonna eat that?" he asked.

Vicky pushed her plate towards Damien. "No. You're welcome to it."

"This stroganoff is fucking awesome. Why don't you bring your own lunch? Fuck, I'd stab a dozen of our classmates for this shit. This is almost as good as my dad's cooking."

"Really?" she said. Damien nodded as he shovelled more pasta down the hatch. "Y'know, I'd like some help with the dishes."

"Sure thing."

They stood next to each other, and Damien happily whistled an army cadence. "You know," Damien began, "I never really thought I'd like this domestic shit. I know my dads defrag at home, where everything is simpler than impending war. I just didn't think I'd be like them."

"I assume you're a lot like your dads. You got your sweetness from somewhere," Vicky said.

"Same goes for my violent streak." They wrapped up. Damien flicked his wet fingers into the sink. "Y'know, I've been wondering how you died for awhile now. You're so… I don't know, homely, I guess? But you're stitched to shit. It's like someone popped your head into another body."

"That's pretty much exactly how that happened. My dad drank heavily. He got into a car accident and I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. I don't remember much after that until my dad's great uncle, who was a… geneticist, I think, reanimated me."

"How come we've never met him? Actually, why do you even live alone? You're only in high school."

"Gary, the man who reanimated me, died six years ago."

"So you've been living on your own for six years?"

"No." Vicky's talons sunk into her wash cloth. "Gary's brother Eugene took me in. I moved out two years ago."

Two years too little. Eugene still felt close by. She still felt his hands on her shoulders and his cum on her clothes. Her backside stung. She wanted to throw up.

"Vicky?" Damien's voice sounded distant. She rocked in place, the entire world oscillated. She wobbled over to the couch and laid down.

Vicky was still dead in a lot of ways. She had a home, and was still homeless. She had friends, yet she had no family. Vicky was happy, on the outside. On the inside was a violent maelstrom of taint and cum and self-loathing that violently pummeled her.

"Vera, I don't know what to do. Vicky and I were talking about this Eugene guy and she completely checked out. I-I don't think she can even hear me right now…. Yeah, I'll pass you over. I just need a second."

Damien clasped Vicky's shoulder. "Babe?" he said, "Vera wants to talk to you."

Vicky gingerly held his phone against her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetie. Are you safe?"

"No."

"Who hurt you?"

"Eugene is still here," Vicky said. "He never left. He recycles everything in my dreams. I wish I had died that day."

"Where is Eugene now? Is he still at your place?"

"I don't think so."

"Did Damien help him hurt you?"

"I don't know who Damien is."

"He's a friend, okay? You can trust him. I need your help, though. Can you breathe with me for a minute?"

"Okay."

"I'm going to count to seven. Inhale for me." Vera counted. Vicky breathed in. "Hold it… now exhale until I count to seven." Vicky exhaled. "Now, rub your arms, Vicky. Rub the couch. What does the couch feel like?"

"It's kinda coarse. But not in an itchy way."

"Okay. What color are Damien's eyes?"

Vicky's eyes met with Damien's. They were gold, in a sad way. He looked worried. "They're yellow," she said.

"What else is yellow there?"

"The throw pillow. The one that's got braids on it. The kitchen has a yellow ladle. Well, the handle is yellow, the bowl is stained since I didn't rinse it off when I had tomato soup a couple months ago."

"Gross," Vera laughed. "Okay. One more thing. What do you hear?"

"I think my ears are ringing. No, that's an ambulance. Did you call an ambulance?"

"No. They're just passing by. How do you feel?"

Vicky sat up. "Present," she said.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

She looked into Damien's eyes. He seemed reserved. Vicky got the feeling he was conflicted. She hadn't had an episode like that in months, and Damien deserved an explanation.

"I do, but I'll fill you in later," Vicky said.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

Vicky returned Damien's phone. "What the fuck was that?" Damien asked.

"Look… I have issues left over from the accident. Sometimes, I think back to it and I completely implode."

"Implode is about right. Is all that really from your accident?"

Vicky frowned. Why did her issues have to be so apparent that she had to bare her soul to everyone? All Vicky wanted was peace. But no, Damien had to pick and pry and fucking prod.

"It's in the past. I don't have to talk about it."

"You don't--- fuck, it's clearly not in the motherfucking past if you're still freaking out about it!"

"Fine!" Vicky snapped, "you want to know the truth? My dad beat the living shit out of me. I got three broken ribs, a broken finger, and a concussion before they divorced. Despite all this evidence, my dad managed to bail himself out and get weekend visitations un-fucking-supervised. He drank like a fucking racoon, and when he got drunk, he got madder! He unbuckled me and threw me against the dash when I was giving him lip. When I struggling to get away, he swerved into a fucking pole and I went through the windshield!"

"And of course, his damn uncle is a freak and had to bring me back for his precious research. I was tied to a table for years before he died. I was gonna starve on that table. But then Eugene saved me. But everything comes at a motherfucking price. I had to make sure his house was clean and he was jerked off. Day after day, and nobody helped me! No, you all just think this is an amazing survival story. I'm dying inside, and you all get to sit down and forget about it the second you leave my company. So I don't want to fucking talk about it anymore."

Vicky was so mad, her vision blurred. Her hair stood on end, and she shook like she clung to the ceiling of a steep fall. Damien was taken aback. He was probably mad. Vicky just wanted him gone, though. He was like everyone else. He picked at her wounds.

"Vicky," he whispered.

"Leave!" she boomed. "You're like everyone else. You don't care about me."

"Don't you ever say that!" he screamed. "I love you so much, it hurts, and it hurts even more knowing the pain you've been through." He grabbed her by her shoulders and threw her into his embrace. "I would kill hundreds of people if it made you happy," he said.

Vicky tried to shove him off her. "Let go of me," she barked, "get the hell out of my house!"

"No. I'm staying here."

Vicky hit his kidney. Damien's hold loosened as he crumpled to the floor. "No! You don't get to pick at my wounds and keep your own damn secrets. Get out of my house, you edgy, self-absorbed bastard!"

"Fuck!" Damien cursed. "It's Brian, okay? But that doesn't fucking matter to me right now. You're hurting and it's at least partially my fault. You're fucking right. I'm not the most sensitive guy, but I love you so much, I would do anything for you, absolutely anything. I'm going to fix what I did wrong. I'm going to stay with you, even after you move past this."

Vicky was at a loss for words. She began to cry. She joined Damien on the floor, and then she lifted his shirt to look where she hit him. There was a fist-sized bruise there, the color of blueberries. "I'm sorry," she wept. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Damien sighed. "I'm okay." Damien sat up a grunt, exhaled harshly, and then hugged her like she was tiny and fragile. "It's okay. We're okay, baby."

She held him so tightly. He was slender. He was sturdy. "It's not okay. I said terrible things. I hit you."

"It's fine. It gave me wood, so we're even."

Vicky laughed. "Okay." She wiped her eyes. "I love you. I was just scared. And it hurts. It always hurts."

"I want to make your hurt go away. I know that I can't though. I'm here to comfort you, though. I'll always protect you."

Damien held the back of her neck. It seemed like forever that she stared into his eyes. Time was weird for Vicky. But she didn't particularly care, because Damien kissed her like she was sweet and fragile and priceless.

[eucalyptustudies]

little ways to feel again

listen to frank sinatra and nat king cole, especially when you wake up

get a suncatcher and hang it somewhere between your window and desk... trust me on this one

press dried flowers everywhere: your phone case, book, photo frames, etc

take photos of things that make you happy

have a go to pillow, blanket, or stuffed animal

make bad art, write bad poetry, play instruments badly, whatever make you happy

dance alone in the middle of the night

send photos of dogs or cats you see to your friends, have them reciprocate

do stickers make you happy? put them on everything

make a lip scrub

get an aloe vera plant, treat yourself to some aloe after a bath or shower

actually get a lot of plants, taking care of them will make you feel more purposeful

write three things you're grateful for everyday

write three things you're good at everyday

walk in the grass/dried leaves barefoot

go work at a coffee shop or library, invite your friends if you can

glamorize the little things in your life

[tellinggazes]

all of them you fucking coward. whole damn rainbow time you b

OKAY LINDA ILL TAKE YOUR CHALLENGE Red - describe your dream home ehh...ig it would be somewhere by the city, but not too close. somewhere in the country but close enough to the city that i can visit a lot. a smaller house too, like a cabin ig Blue - what are your favourite flowers/plants? i...really like aloe vera dfghnjmk...i just like cacti plants a lot,,, Green - describe your dream garden fUMCJKIN ALOE VERA GARDEN DFGHJUK no but in seriousness, probably a garden with a lotta fresh herbs and veg and fruit of all sorts. Yellow - what are your favourite animals? oooh i really like cats and bearded dragons. a huge fuckin leap i know. i just like reptiles of all kinds tbh Orange - do you have any prized possessions/treasured items? a..stuffed turtle plush i had since i was like..2 fghyuh its so stupid i know,,,i also treasure like..anything my friends give me. one of my friends, while at a fair together, won me a plush unicorn named elton, and i also won a clown while i was with her,,i treasure them both... Purple - what does your room look like? shit tbh. my closet it partially open, my desk has so much shit on it, theres literally a donut bag still out that i didnt do anything too. Grey - do you have any pets? 3 dogs. 2 cats. 2 birds. one bearded dragon. White - what are your biggest fears? heights, abandonment, being ignored, having no friends, you know the normal. Black - where are your favourite places to shop? sorry to sound like a generic teen or whatever but i like going to hot topic. mainly to browse n shit. i also go to guitar center and fyi. Mint - what are you currently wearing? a gorillaz black t-shirt and some black shorts, nothing special tbh. Turquoise- who are some of your closest friends? ofc you, @nertleturtle, @asking-nertle-questions, @winter-frostbite/ @frostbite-aesthetics Silver - do you have any hobbies? im learning how to play guitar rn, and i paint my nails a lot, idk if that counts as a hobby or not gfhyjuk Bronze - are there any hobbies you’d like to pick up? like i said im picking up guitar, but i also wanna pick up travel n shit. Gold - how would you describe your personality? probably not smth good to ask when i feel like this rfghyju but eh. id say its really nothing special. i would even say i hardly have one tbfh. its just. kinda there ig. but yeah prolly not the expected or wanted answer but its the one i have for now Brown - describe yourself in aesthetic things sad quotes, a rainy sky, a guitarist on a boardwalk playing wonderwall for others amusement, a neon colorbared tv, fields of flowers, multicolored nails on a black background, the first time having black coffee

[blackjacketmuses]

hc; sparda 4

DEVIL ARMS

Sparda is in possession of 10 Devil Arms, as well as a pair of guns forged by Machiavelli himself, Luce and Ombra (demons have an odd sense of time compared to humans, so they have/had all sorts of weapons without regard for if humans do at the time). After his imprisonment, his Arms were also locked away and imprisoned, and the guns were eventually given to Trish right before Mallet Island; she still has them.

His Devil Arms are as follows:

Paimon

Powerful demon; former lieutenant in Sparda’s army, allowed himself to become a Devil Arm to support his liege after Sparda lost his power in sealing Temen-ni-Gru.

Weapon form: A very large, wicked glaive with a blade on the bottom end, has sonic powers when swung or spun, can also affect time.

Demon form: A monstrous equine with beige fur and claws instead of hooves, a long neck, no mane, and a lion’s tail.

Human/Disguise form: A very handsome European man in his thirties, blond, vaguely androgynous, always wears a suit. Pretended to be one of Sparda’s “business associates”, Mr. Patrick. Serious and a bit sarcastic, a bit of a flirt when he likes to be, very teasing.

Stolas

Powerful demon; former lieutenant in Sparda’s army, allowed himself to become a Devil Arm to support his liege after Sparda lost his power in sealing Temen-ni-Gru. Nevan’s brother.

Weapon form: A large black halberd with an extra-big bladed head that can be wielded as a closer-ranged weapon, has lightning based abilities like his sister.

Demon form: Large, black, obviously demonic owl-bird-thing with hot-coal-red eyes and a toothy beak. Has a crown of leaves and thorns.

Human/Disguise form: Small normal sized black owl or a thin, bespectacled, red-haired, Irish-leaning human in his thirties. Tended to keep to the owl form, much to his chagrin and amusement --- became little Dante’s favorite stuffed “toy”, Howly, because of this. Cheerful and friendly and playful. 

Camio

Powerful demon; former lieutenant in Sparda’s army, allowed himself to become a Devil Arm to support his liege after Sparda lost his power in sealing Temen-ni-Gru.

Weapon form: A cutlass-type, curved blade with a red tassel, connected to the fire element.

Demon form: A huge, three eyed, monstrous crow with razor sharp feathers and humanoid, clawed arms with the wings attached.

Human/Disguise form: A normal sized crow, or a thin, dark-haired Latino man in his twenties with black eyes. A warrior type, but dramatic and a bit of a theater-kid type. Tended to keep to crow form around the family.

Agares

Powerful demon; former lieutenant in Sparda’s army, allowed himself to become a Devil Arm to support his liege after Sparda lost his power in sealing Temen-ni-Gru.

Weapon form: Wickedly spiked gauntlets and greaves and a ornamental breastplate, comes with poison elemental abilities.

Demon form: Huge green-grey demonic crocodile beast with six legs and a second set of jaws inside his mouth.

Human/Disguise form: A pale, older gentleman that looks like he should be someone’s butler. Wise and a bit of an Alfred type, older than Sparda and mildly fussy towards him, acts like an old uncle at times. One of Sparda’s “business associates”, Mr. Augustine.

Vepar

Powerful demon; former lieutenant in Sparda’s army, allowed herself to become a Devil Arm to support her liege after Sparda lost his power in sealing Temen-ni-Gru.

Weapon form: A spiked and wicked chain whip that almost looks like seaweed, water based abilities, whip can stiffen into a polearm.

Demon form: A monstrous mermaid beast with a shark’s tail and wild tentacled hair, grey skin, and a shark’s teeth filled mouth.

Human/Disguise form: A young woman in her twenties with a penchant for gauzy sundresses, with long dark hair that looks almost sea-green in a certain light. Teasing and friendly and free-spirited like any good water nymph would be; held a candle for Sparda for years, was jealous of Eva for a long time but eventually got on well with her. Was also one of Sparda’s “business associates”, Miss Vera.

Dantalion

Powerful demon; once an enemy of Sparda, he was defeated long ago and submitted to becoming a Devil Arm.

Weapon form: A large mace with a head that resembles his demonic form, large enough to swing two-handed, has earth powers and the head can be swung like a flail.

Demon form: A twisted goliath with many, many faces and arms atop two reptilian legs, speaks in the voice of a multitude.

Human/Disguise form: A very average, unassuming, brown haired man in his thirties, almost forgettable in appearance. Very blunt and plain spoken, good-natured, though, and very chill. One of Sparda’s “business associates,” Mr. Daniel.

Leraje

Powerful demon; once an enemy of Sparda, he was defeated long ago and submitted to becoming a Devil Arm.

Weapon form: An elegant crimson longbow that almost looks like bird’s wings, fires arrows made of pure energy, can shoot multiple at one and do other tricks.

Demon form: A two headed vulpine beast with crimson fur and the legs of a bird of prey.

Human/Disguise form: A handsome blond man in his twenties, tends to dress in green, has a British accent. Very joking and teasing, very much a classical Robin Hood or Zorro type, loves pranks. One of Sparda’s “business associates”, Mr. Leslie.

Grendel

Powerful demon; once an enemy of Sparda, he was defeated long ago and submitted to becoming a Devil Arm. Beowulf’s brother.

Weapon form: A huge sledgehammer whose head can be altered in size, has ice powers.

Demon form: A huge, fleshy, blue demon, vaguely man shaped but with a head/face that looks more like some kind of underwater creature, with no ears and nose and big fishy eyes and a needle-tooth filled mouth.

Human/Disguise form: A Scandinavian looking man, big and burly and slightly irritable, missing an arm thanks to Sparda. Grumpy and snippy and very bad at being human, so doesn’t get out much.

Sitri

Powerful demon; once an enemy of Sparda, she was defeated long ago and submitted to becoming a Devil Arm.

Weapon form: A rapier that also forms armor up to the shoulder, has wind based abilities, can allow flash stepping.

Demon form: A huge feline beast with avian features and wings, with patterns on its fur that move and swirl confusingly.

Human/Disguise form: A woman in her thirties, very beautiful, short blond hair with dark streaks, very businesslike, or a marmalade tabby cat. Businesslike and neat and very, very much like a cat in personality; appears occasionally as a “business associate”, Miss Simone, but mainly likes to be in cat form, because little Vergil would spoil her.

Orthrus

Powerful demon; once an enemy of Sparda, he was defeated long ago and submitted to becoming a Devil Arm. Alpha from which the Cerberus tribe descends.

Weapon form: A weapon able to shift between a pair of katar, a pair of hook swords, and a ranseur --- the katar are light-based, the hook-swords are dark-based, and the ranseur is spatial magic.

Demon form: A huge, three headed dog, bigger than any Cerberus.

Human/Disguise form: A big dog, a huge wolf-dog type with grey-white fur. Remained always in dog form, practically the family pet.

[fallout-fallen-knight]

Followers of Mobius Pt. 3

Part 3 of Sophia’s story! I just finished Dead Money this afternoon, and decided to sit down and finish this segment. There’s only one more part: the events leading up to Hoover Dam and everything that happens afterward. Enjoy!

After she disappeared suddenly for several months, Arcade and Julie were surprised to see Sophia return to the Old Mormon Fort with a blood-red labcoat and a new lease on life, so to speak. She spent the next few weeks recovering and tending to patients, but would frequently disappear for hours at a time. Arcade assumed that she was going to the Strip, or perhaps the Atomic Wrangler, until late one night he discovered her in a disused room in the fort, making a web of connections. She had gathered everything she could on Elijah, Christine, and Ulysses - holotapes, bomb collars, Christine’s sniper rifle, Elijah’s LAER, scraps of cloth and paper with an old world flag on them, and more. She tore down a poster of the Sierra Madre that she found on the strip, and recorded the invitation on a holotape. In the center of her web was a single question: who is Father Elijah?

Although Arcade didn’t know the answer himself, he knew where to start. There was a woman who frequented the 188 Trading Post. She was dressed in rough, dirty robes, but wore a gleaming and well-cared-for power first on her arm. Arcade’s theory was that she belonged to the Brotherhood of Steel, a techno-cult that Arcade’s father had known about from his time in California. But nobody had seen the Brotherhood in the Mojave for years.

Sophia waited several days at the 188 for the woman to return, sleeping on her standard-issue NCR bedroll from her time as a camp medic and buying food off of the couple who owned the trading post. When the woman came back, Sophia introduced herself. After a short conversation about the Brotherhood, the woman introduced herself as Veronica, a scribe for the Brotherhood of Steel. She was surprised to hear that Elijah was still alive, and took Sophia to the Brotherhood’s hidden bunker so that she could tell the elders everything she knew.

The Brotherhood Elder’s impassively listened to Sophia’s report that Elijah and Christine were still alive. When she concluded, the Elders dismissed both Veronica and Sophia, saying that neither were required to be present for them to make a decision. Disheartened, Sophia returned to the Old Mormon Fort. A few days later, Veronica arrived with the news that the Elders had decided to do nothing, citing the fact that Christine, who had been dispatched to kill Elijah, was still completing this mission, and so they had no reason to send extra soldiers into a situation that was just as they had left it.

Dissatisfied with their response, Veronica and Sophia returned to the Lucky 38 and began to plan how they would track down Elijah to the Sierra Madre. Yes Man located a faint radio signal announcing the grand opening of the casino, and began to track its source. Meanwhile, Sophia and Veronica began to gather allies and equipment for their attack. Although the Enclave remnants were too busy planning for Hoover Dam, and Arcade refused to leave his post at the Old Mormon Fort, the King kindly donated his robo-dog Rex, whom he claimed was “a great tracker”. Sophia appreciated the King’s enthusiasm.  Eventually, Yes Man tracked the signal to a source out to the east, and Sophia, Veronica, and Rex - armed with Elijah’s LAER and Christine’s sniper rifle, a power fist, and a particularly strong bite - set out for the Sierra Madre.

They tracked the radio signal to find an abandoned bunker with the Brotherhood of Steel sigil on the door. Inside, there was a long hallway with a radio at the end, playing the same signal they had followed to the bunker. As Sophia and Veronica approached the radio, Rex began barking furiously. At first Sophia thought that Elijah was in the bunker with them, but too late she realized what was happening, and fell unconscious due to the gas seeping into the bunker.

Sophia awoke alone once more, on hard, cold cobblestone streets. The air was hard to breathe and she had been stripped of all her belongings, including her glasses, and stuffed into a filthy and raggedy jumpsuit, with a cold metal collar around her neck. In front of her was a fountain, and above that hovered the face of a bitter-looking old man that she instantly recognized as Father Elijah.

Sophia made no attempt to hide her hatred of the man, and would have begun attacking the hologram itself if Elijah hadn’t informed her that the collar now around her neck was a bomb collar - one wrong move, and Elijah would simply kill her and find another. He then tasked her with recruiting the rest of the “team” for his heist into the Sierra Madre’s vault: a nightkin in the Villa’s police station, a singer hiding out in the residential district, and an assassin trapped in the medical district. Although she initially wanted to go to Christine’s aid, she was forced to visit the police station first to arm herself - after all, Elijah’s gifted holorifle would hardly be enough against the nigh-immortal ghost people who swarmed the streets of the Villa.

She quickly recruited God and Dean. The former fascinated her; she had briefly helped Doc Henry study the nightkin in Jacobstown, even before she helped Arcade recruit Henry back to the remnants, and so his condition fascinated her. Dean, on the other hand, irritated her to no end, but she found that she had no other choice than to help him.

She reunited with Christine last, after freeing her from the Auto-Doc. Although Christine’s vocal chords had been destroyed from the procedure, Sophia was able to communicate everything to her - the holotapes and the rifle in the Big MT, how Veronica had helped her when the Brotherhood wouldn’t, how she had been gassed in Elijah’s bunker and brought to the Sierra Madre. Although Christine initially wary of Sophia and her intentions, she quickly warmed up to her and the pair vowed to kill Elijah together, whatever the cost.

The crew, now assembled, gathered at the Villa fountain for the next set of instructions from Elijah. The gates that led to the casino, Elijah said, would only open at the conclusion of the opening ceremonies. Each member of the crew had their own job, but, annoyingly, Dean and God refused to go to their posts alone. Sophia said farewell to Christine (who, thankfully, was more than competent enough to handle the ghost people on their own) and escorted God and Dean to their posts before making her way to her own post - the top of the bell tower, where the opening gala could be triggered.

After starting the event and fighting her way back to the Villa fountain, she made her way to the casino. Once inside, she saw the bodies of God, Dean, and Christine lying on the ground shortly before succumbing to the gas that filled the area (the last thing she thought before she went under was “oh, not again”). When she awoke, the rest of the crew had been cleared away, and Elijah began issuing commands from the pip-boy. Restore power to the casino, he said, and then “deal with” the rest of the crew. God was psychotic, Dean was a liability, and he knew exactly why Christine had followed him to the casino.

Not one to let Elijah tell her what to do, Sophia first went to the executive suites to find Christine. She was surprised to see, and hear, that Christine suddenly had a voice, although it was not the one Sophia had heard on the holotapes in the Big MT, but that of the woman on the pre-war signals that littered the Villa, Vera Keyes. Sophia and Christine discussed their plans, then Sophia headed off to deal with Dean and God while Christine held down the Executive Suite.

She tracked down Dean first, and together, they disabled the security in the Tampico theater. When they were safe, Dean explained to her how one could get into the vault. A password, spoken by Vera Keyes, would unlock an elevator to bring her down to the vault. Unfortunately, Dean didn’t know what it was, and Sophia didn’t trust him enough to let him know that they had a woman with an exact copy of Vera’s voice. Next she went to the kitchen, where Dog had opened the gas valves and was threatening to set the whole casino ablaze. Sophia entered the kitchen and attempted to talk Dog down. She did, and “merged” the personalities of Dog and God, creating a new personality with none of the aggression of God or Dog and the memories of neither. She named the new personality Dawn, to signify the creation of a new day for the nightkin, and the nightkin agreed.

With the crew safely dealt with, Elijah ordered Sophia to link together three pieces of music - a song that, when played, would unlock the elevator to the vault. Sophia scribbled down the lyrics and sprinted back up to the Executive Suites. She had Christine unlock the elevator, then had her go and gather Dean and Dawn.

Sophia made her way down to the vault, dodging poisonous cloud, security holograms, and speakers. She disabled security and entered the vault, where she was stunned to see a screen with a furious Elijah on it. He told her not to touch anything and wait for him, in order to avoid sealing the vault permanently. She frantically began gathering everything in the vault - weapons, ammunition, medicine. She left the gold - it was too heavy, and besides, who in the wasteland would buy gold? - and waited outside the vault for Elijah. When Elijah made it down to the vault, she didn’t hesitate.

In the weeks that followed, Sophia and Christine (and Dean and Dawn, begrudgingly) set out to ensure that nobody would be able to use the Sierra Madre’s technology the way that Elijah had planned to. They destroyed each and every hologram emitter in the casino and corrupted the terminals that once held their data. They repaired the air filtration systems and cleared most of the Villa of the toxic cloud. They hunted down every last ghost person they could find, and turned all their remaining Sierra Madre chips they could find into food, water, and medical supplies. When their work was done, the four traveled back to the Mojave, vowing never to speak of the casino again.

[arty-woodworm]

Morning drink order

Arty: Likes those aloe vera juice things/coconut water ice cold, mixes it w tea and stuff. Like those Starbucks Refreshers?

Penelope: Listen. you thought i was gonna say pink drink? huh? bc her theme is pink???? wrong. likes black coffee no sugar no nothing. one of those ppl. or tea but only if arty/lesiah makes it for her bc its not the same otherwise.

Lesiah: water, lots of it. water w lemon kinda person, lets it infuse overnight. has black tea w their breakfast, but not a big drinks person in the morning, just water.

Saul: mint tea or juice. not sweeter red juices tho

Sailor: reasonable person who drinks a cup of water bare minimum before drinking anything fancy. modern au would be the kinda person who makes their own fruit juice/smoothies. the ones w the fancy fruits and vegetables (but not the necessarily expensive ones yk)

Charlie: coffee w cream and sugar, but a reasonable amount.

Redacted: Iced coffee, is the one w a regular coffee order. i think she would’ve enjoyed energy drinks if they were wide spread when she was alive.

Deacon: screwdrivers. but light ones yk. will drink anything given to him before noon.

Say So: makes iced iced water in the summer, and then makes warmed water w cinnamon and sugar in the winter. eventually after he’s introduced to adding things to make his own drinks, he goes kinda ham until finding that he likes cranberry juice year round in general, but only in the mornings in the summer. in the winter he makes hot water w those instant broth cubes to have broth drink. he makes some hot water w cinnamon and sugar for super cold days to bring w his broth.

Sophia: smoothies and refreshers. doesnt matter the temperature out

Creek: will drink anything thats given to them, but they like hot teas the best. or slurpees.

Chaos: energy drinks. (partial to rockstar energy drinks tbh. maybe a bang fan as well?)

Dantony: energy drinks (redbull fan) AND/OR the sweetest coffee he can get his hands on. hes got places to be and things to do!

Niana: .... if she needs energy she likes to drink a monster. she thinks theyre fun. otherwise its her usual drinks.

Aetian: likes pumpkin spiced stuff, especially coffee. likes to try everything, so each day is something new in some way or another. (likes the shittiest gas station coffee imaginable + as many different flavor pumps creamers etc stuffed in their best. doesnt even like it that sweet so he gets unsweeted stuff)

Clowntown: gets what the kids call potion of have a panic attack “kidney killer”. has a 5-hour energy shot mixed into the two different sourest energy drinks they can find. they like to imagine that all the ingredients r fighting in thier body to see who can fuck them up first. (ex. recipe: sour apple flavor 5 hour energy extra strength, ghost sour patch kids energy drink, and monster punch mad dog)

Molar: ....likes green tea likes bone broths.