unawakc

[unawakc]

« yaaAAAWN... »

« ? ... »

« ... AMIRA ! »

[unawakc]

            MEMORIES FROM A JOURNAL.  //  oldie but still accepting! @royalreef​ inquired (a long time ago, sorry for the wait!): 📔 + if i can request one about miranda !

          dicember 21st, 20xx christmas is almost here. time is flying. well, more or less. i don’t know. why did i even started by talking about christmas? jeez.

well, that awkward beginning aside... there’s this merfolk in my school. name’s miranda, and they’re... i don’t know. cute, but in a freaky way? i’ve seen them pretty often in school, but i never talked about them before because i don’t know how to interpret them. they ARE pretty nice most of the times, but... but i don’t know. i like them but i’m also freaked out? i don’t know, i don’t know even what i’m talking about. after all, pretty much everyone here can be friendly but also a little freaky. oz’s little guys who keep appearing on him can be quite freaky, vicky is a literal walking corpse (and, i mean, same), amira set fire on things more than once already (and i’m not sure all the times it was casual), so it’s probably something i just need to get used to?

heck, to be fair, there is a reason why i started with christmas. tomorrow we have to bring presents to celebrate christmas at school, to whoever we want, and i already have mine for oz, vicky and amira. i thought of only them, as they’re the only ones i actually bonded with for now, but then... but then there’s miranda, you know... what if a nice present will make them notice me? n-not that i want to be noticed, it’s not like i have a crush.

... it’s weird that i talked about not having a crush randomly, eh? jeez. man. sHIT.

i think i’ll bring presents to oz, vicky and amira only, alright! a present for miranda is weird even just to WRITE about! what the heck am i tHINKING ——

[unawakc]

🦌🐚🦌🐚🦌🐚

[unawakc]

                          NONVERBAL PROMPTS.  //  accepting! @dxthemxnstermash​​ acted: [FROM OZ LETS GOOOOOO] [  popcorn  ]

                                   [  popcorn  ]  sender  makes  popcorn  for  a  movie  night

the sound of popping of the popcorn starts to be audible from over the microwave’s, even with him being in the living room and not in the kitchen. popcorn for tonight is oz’s job, something he offered to make as he knows how to make them special, whatever it might mean. and you know —— brian loves to try things, and if oz claims he can make the best popcorns? then so be it, he wants to eat a whole bowl out of them. and they’ll have a lot of time tonight, with his father out for the night shift in the hospital and leaving the house to the two of them. just don’t break anything, he said, as the usual recommendation, before leaving the reign to them. and, consequently, the kitchen to oz to make popcorn, and the living room to brian to select a movie.

ah, yup, a movie. what to see? something not scary or anxious, begged oz, and... that would be quite the challenge. brian knows videogames better than movies, so he’ll have to go for something he knows well enough and make sure it’s not scary. which, between actual horrors and adventures, the only decent choice... heck. it’s probably a love story.

                              ... welp. how to not make things weird, right?

« mhh. what a nice smell! » he exclaims from the living room, directed to oz in the kitchen. the smell is actually pretty good, at least from there. he’s starting to be a little peckish. « what about we watch the holiday, by the way? it’s a love story, but at least it’s not scary. »

he takes the cover down the shelf, giving it a look. that movie is actually really good. he wonders if oz would actually like to watch it with him, though. maybe things would get too awkward...? heck, overthinking will bring him nowhere. he’ll just wait for an answer.

[unawakc]

royalreef​.

      Knuckles were going white with how Miranda gripped the edge of the table, gills flexing with her breath in exertion. Not quite rage, not quite panic — an emotion entirely its own plastered across her face in pupils reduced down onto scratches writ in blue and fins that were shaking with how they flared, all but vibrating to themselves as she kept steady gaze on Brian’s hands. Entire body ramrod straight, tense, held like a coiled spring at its limit.

      Only as the glint of gold calmed her, of hands returning the tea spoon down to its proper place. Breathing returning to normal. A slackness that started in her tail and only reached her fins when his hands were fully withdrawn, when it was safe, when it wasn’t about to fall or get damaged or dirty or stolen or mocked or ——

      Wow. Wow, she felt a little silly. Had she… Really started shouting over one of her silverware?

                                                                                        Yes, yes she had.

      Well….. Okay, so maybe that was a little bit of a social faux pas. Still! She panicked, she lost control for a moment, and she still wasn’t quite satisfied again. A lot of people wanted to touch her silverware, and it wasn’t as if she was opposed to people touching it or even using it! But… Not picking it up without asking. Not moving it. 

      And thieves were common regardless! As was those who wanted to take her silverware away. Sometimes suitors tried, thinking it a good way to get her to have to talk to them to get it back. Sometimes other royals tried to use them against Miranda, though none would ever admit mocking their Crown Princess for her fascination and instead would dress it up in the sly words of the courts so that she couldn’t use it against them.

      And sometimes just those at Spooky High who were maybe too used to seeing Miranda be more interested in actually enjoying the presence of her friends than ensuring everyone knew very well how much of a walking nightmare she was to those within her kingdom, who demanded all respect and honor lest all beneath her know how it felt to be methodically taken apart —- and maybe a few of them just wanted to try and knock her down a few pegs. As if that was possible. As if she wasn’t determined to remain strongly as one of the Eight Most Charismatic, as if the others weren’t people she did care about and cared about her in turn, who she could trust with those delicate sides of her to begin with.

      Just like she trusted them in touching her silverware. That they knew how much it meant to her, and how dearly she held it, and how much she thought about it, and how much she would happily ramble to them about it —-

               Anyway. She wasn’t about to start thinking about that too hard.                                          Right now, she just needed to stop shaking as much.

      Her breathing tried to steady and calm once again. Her hands already slipping from the table’s edge to reach for the tea spoon and a shining cloth that she kept on hand, eyes searching over the etched designs and the carefully placed gold-plated fish skull at the end, ensuring that everything, from the thin plates of the skull to the scoleric rings to every single tooth, were still perfectly intact. Claws that could’ve tenderly embraced a cloud without breaking its vapor skin pushing the cloth into all the small spaces, running along the handle of the spoon, trying to remove any fingerprints or dirt or anything from its surface.

      Reassuring motions. Care taken to preserve something that meant so much to her, soothing her nerves. Yeah. Okay, it was perfectly fine. It was okay. She was okay. Even with eyes pinned down to it to reassure her from the rising guilt of snapping at someone who, if he had asked and she had seen him pick it up, then she would have been fine with him handling it — well, there was no avoiding the way her tail kept swishing across the floor, stressed and fretting and trying to curb her tone. She hadn’t needed to shout. Even if volume control wasn’t always her best skill, it was embarrassing to realize just how loud she had been.

      “You cannot just - just pick up and handle my silverware! What if it were the the scheming salad fork? The suspicious intent ladle? The royal assassination chopsticks?” There came a waver at the back of her tone. Ruffled, the kind of distress that tempered her words far more in anxiety and worry than genuine anger at Brian. “I would let you hold it, if you had asked. It is just….. Do not pick them up behind my back, if you would? It is hard enough to keep track of them here.”

it takes him a bit of time to truly process what has been happening, being it so fast and sudden. if his heart would still be beating normally, it would be racing right now, as he too starts taking deep breathes to calm down and just... understand what has been happening in the last few seconds. miranda’s screams, both of them so agitated to have their breathes heavy, everything seemed to have been so exaggerated in a few seconds before swoop back down into everyday life, but leaving consequences. brian couldn’t even take an exact look at what he had taken up, before their sudden reaction pushed him to put it hurriedly back.

after a bit, though, as his breath slowly returns closer to a normal rhythm, he slowly starts to notice more of miranda’s reaction and her state. the fact that they’re taking much longer than him to calm down, their breath failing to return tranquil, the eyes wide open, all of their body... they panicked. they actually panicked because of his gesture. and regardless of how little he understands the situation or their motives, reducing them like this was definitely not something that he intended to do. he feels quite shitty now, to be fair.

he thinks of apologizing, but as he sees miranda starting to move, taking what he now sees was a spoon and starting to clean it with what seemed to him like gestures to reassure herself, he preferred to keep quiet for a moment. letting them calm down just a tiny bit before taking the word again, as silence might be best than a hurried apology. brian limits himself to watch them, their hands taking care of the silverware, and trying not to judge  ——  at least not too hard. because while being the renowned chill guy of the school, he also can’t refrain himself to, sometimes, judge others a little bit; and miranda’s reaction seemed just... too much, for what is just a spoon. but he doesn’t know enough: if that was a particular piece, or if miranda simply likes silverware that much, or if any other reason is behind that panic attack. whatever the reason, and regardless of how strange that sudden outburst could look to him, he did hurt the merfolk by pushing such a strong reaction out of them, which is why he remains silent even while they begins to talk with so much distress in their voice.

               ... even if the royal assassination chopsticks DO kind of worry him.

« you’re  ——  you’re absolutely right. ». he stutters a bit at first, but his words come out as sincere and tranquil as the situation lets him. he’s considering carefully which words to use, and avoid a much more simpler ‘sorry dude, didn’t know’ , because that is miranda. brian isn’t a nobleman, quite the opposite  ——  he grew up in a much simpler and everyday ambient, in a simpler life, with simpler ways of acting with one another. talking to miranda is somehow always a bit of an anxiety moment, with their natural royal poise. they’re two completely opposite worlds, and sometimes the fear of making some mistakes that they might interpret as wrong lingers whenever they might share a word or two.

« i should have asked... i just saw it and was curious, and i didn’t think of... well. ». you know of what i didn’t think of. « sorry about that. » he hints to a smile, that will hopefully calm them down a bit more. unless they find it mocking, which... he hopes won’t happen. that’s the last thing they both need right now, to start a discussion about what a smile might mean. that might happen though. oh god. add something, bring attention away from the smile, add something...!

« that’s a we —— » no not WEIRD not that! « ... very interesting passion you have, of... spoons, and silverware. my strongest passions are videogames, so it’s... it’s, uh. different. »                   nice comeback, brian yu.

[unawakc]

*gently headbutts u in the shoulder to show affection*

[unawakc]

nonverbal  meme  prompts ↪  they  seem  few  &  far  between,  so  i  tried  to  come  up  with  as  many  scenarios  as  i  could  think  of  where  dialogue  wasn’t  a  necessary  starting  point.  some  are  more  uh  specific  than  others  /  drabble-y,  but  they’re  all  dialogue-free  (  tho  ofc  this  does  not  necessarily  extend  to  the  response  itself  ).  to  reverse  who  sends  what,  send  ‘  [  prompt  ]+  ’  !  alter  any  as  you  see  fit,  &  lemme  know  if  anything’s  unclear  ♡

[  pull  ]  sender  pulls  receiver  closer  to  them

[  touch  ]  sender  places  their  hand  affectionately  on  receiver

[  guide  ]  sender  helps  receiver  through  a  difficult  video  game

[  lean  ]  sender  leans  on  receiver

[  pierce  ]  sender  helps  receiver  with  a  new  piercing  (  doing,  aftercare,  etc  )

[  sit  ]  sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap

[  spar  ]  sender  pins  receiver  down  in  a  practice  fight

[  cook  ]  sender  makes  food  for  receiver

[  slide  ]  sender  pushes  an  item  across  the  table  to  receiver

[  kiss  ]  sender  kisses  (  lips,  cheek,  forehead,  hand,  etc  )

[  lead  ]  sender  leads  receiver  someplace

[  wound  ]  sender  injures  muse  in  a  fight  (  practice  or  real  )

[  snap  ]  sender  takes  a  photo  of  receiver  (  candid  or  posed  )

[  drape  ]  sender  drapes  their  arm  around  receiver’s  shoulders

[  bullet  ]  sender  takes  a  bullet  for  receiver  (  literal  or  figurative  )

[  nap  ]  sender  falls  asleep  against  receiver

[  teeth  ]  sender  bears  teeth  at  receiver

[  trace  ]  sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  scars

[  cocktail  ]  sender  makes  /  gives  receiver  a  cocktail

[  comfort  ]  sender  comforts  receiver  when  they  are  upset  /  crying

[  bouquet  ]  sender  surprises  receiver  with  a  bouquet

[  massage  ]  sender  gives  receiver  a  massage  (  planned,  spontaneous,  full  body,  shoulder,  etc  )

[  mentor  ]  sender  takes  muse  under  their  wing

[  tattoo  ]  sender  helps  receiver  with  a  new  tattoo  (  doing,  aftercare,  etc  )

[  dare  ]  receiver  acts  out  a  dare  from  sender

[  hug  ]  sender  pulls  receiver  into  a  hug

[  phone  ]  receiver  sees  sender  smiling  at  something  on  their  phone

[  popcorn  ]  sender  makes  popcorn  for  a  movie  night

[  wake  ]  sender  tries  to  wake  receiver

[  groom  ]  sender  tries  to  make  receiver  look  more  presentable

[  flower  ]  sender  places  a  flower  behind  receiver’s  ear

[  sad  ]  sender  looks  at  receiver  sorrowfully

[  playlist  ]  sender  curates  a  playlist

[  fashion  show  ]  sender  tries  to  help  receiver  choose  an  outfit

[  shield  ]  sender  steps  between  receiver  and  danger

[  bandage  ]  sender  helps  bandage  up  receiver’s  wounds

[  duel  ]  muses  get  into  a  fight

[  fear  ]  sender  finds  receiver  having  a  nightmare

[  hold  ]  sender  holds  receiver’s  hand

[  bruise  ]  sender  finds  receiver  with  a  bruise  /  tries  to  help  receiver  cover  up  a  bruise

[  brush  ]  sender  brushes  /  styles  /  dyes  receiver’s  hair

[  portrait  ]  receiver  paints  a  portrait  of  receiver

[  assist  ]  sender  helps  the  receiver  with  a  task  they’re  struggling  in

[  wow  ]  sender  does  something  to  really  amaze  receiver

[  glare  ]  sender  is  still  hurt  after  an  argument

[  roast  ]  muses  roast  marshmallows  together  /  make  s’mores

[  shoot  ]  muses  attend  a  game  of  paintball

[  diary  ]  receiver  writes  a  journal  entry  about  sender  (  maybe  they  find  it  ?  )

[  dance  ]  sender  whisks  receiver  onto  to  ‘  dance  floor  ’  (  can  be  actual  or  pretend  )

[  rest  ]  sender  rests  their  chin  on  receiver’s  head  /  shoulder

[  manicure  ]  sender  paints  receiver’s  nails

[  tuck  ]  sender  tucks  in  receiver’s  shirt,  hair  behind  ear,  etc

[  chin  ]  sender  lifts  receiver’s  chin  up

[  lap  ]  sender  puts  their  feet  in  receiver’s  lap

[  write  ]  receiver  writes  sender  a  note

[  play  ]  muses  play  a  board  game  /  card  game  together

[  glance  ]  receiver  catches  sender  looking  at  them

[  ill  ]  sender  takes  care  of  receiver  when  they  are  unwell

[  hearth  ]  sender  lights  a  fire

[  tap  ]  sender  taps  receiver  on  the  shoulder

[  bake  ]  muses  bake  together

[  read  ]  sender  reads  to  receiver

[  study  ]  sender  tries  to  help  receiver  study

[  push  ]  sender  pushes  receiver  in  anger

[  skill  ]  receiver  tries  to  assist  sender  in  learning  a  new  skill

[  coated  ]  receiver  finds  sender  covered  in  blood

[  gesture  ]  sender  motions  for  receiver  to  follow  them

[  downpour  ]  receiver  finds  sender  out  in  the  rain

[unawakc]

well hello! i’m still around, despite low activity as always. i’ll return to writing here for good very soon, but first! unawakc’s been updated! changes are a few:

new pinned post, that i long had to do!

rules and bio have been moved to a gdoc, consultable here. it’s much more easy for me to keep neat and organized than tumblr, that keeps making a mess out of any kind of work i might make here.

this blog now mirrors the changes made in my hub’s gdoc and in the general rules: the blog is now non-mutuals friendly and 18+ - it already was 18+, but now it’s much more evident as it’s written in the pinned post and in the gdoc. extract from the hub blog’s document, to make things easier to find:

and that’s it! i just need to fix one last blog, and then everything will be in place. <3 but as for here, it’s done and neater now! 8D

[unawakc]

greetings! my name is castiel (any pronoun, they/them are preferred; 25). this is an 18+, independent & non-mutual friendly rp blog for brian yu from monster prom & camp. please read the rules before interaction!               have fun & enjoy your stay my friends!

                         law & bio  |  prompts & memes  |  drabbles  |  hub blog

[unawakc]

📔 + character select gang Give Me Hi First Entry about oz amira and vicky , ,  ▷  @infernalpursuit​ ​ ↳   MEMORIES FROM A JOURNAL.  accepting!

     december 15th, 20xx today at lunchbreak i was playing despotism on my switch. i was taking stupid decisions and jamming at the music, when i felt someone beside me. when i looked there was a girl with flames as hair, and she was staring right at the screen and at the writings on it. then she said ‘give the puny humans to cathuluh, i want to see what happens’, and i just went ‘okay’ and did that. i knew it would lead to a game over, but i didn’t care. she read as everyone embraced the cult of cathuluh and ignored the robot’s commands, leading him to death, and she laughed at how absurd the idea of the cult wanting to breed half humans-half cathuluh thingies was, and then told me ‘hi anyway, i’m amira. wanna hang out with me and my friends?’, and she pointed at a table not far from there. and just like that, i suddenly was sitting there.

i haven’t really bonded with anyone in three months, mostly out of me just being a scaredy cat despite i keep telling me that i’m not and should be stronger (ugh, i still can’t stay calm around moving cars, it’s a miracle i can stay inside one), but then i sat at that table and all felt so natural. normal, even. she introduced me to oz and vicky, and we just... started to talk. or, better yet, amira started to talk, and me, oz and vicky pretty much just listened, but not in a bad way. she’s just so full of energies, she doesn’t realize she’s monopolizing the conversation.

just as naturally we then stayed together during the rest of the day. they came to look for me when the hour changed and got me inside their discourses while we moved from class to class.

it’s been... fantastic, truly. i haven’t felt so good in so long. i’d love to see them again tomorrow, if they still want me with them.

[unawakc]

📔 !!!  ▷  @infernalpursuit​ ↳   MEMORIES FROM A JOURNAL.  accepting!

     october 24th, 20xx dad bought me a switch! geez, that was unexpected, haha-! he told me he waited even too long to buy it to me, and was very sincere in admitting that he found me a bit sad and wanted to make me happy. i appreciated it, truly. i’m lucky to have a dad like him. he also said he really didn’t understand videogames, so he bought me a gift card so i could buy them by myself, which it’s a cool idea! i still haven’t bought anything, i was just going around the eshop to see what it offers. there’s a lot of stuff.

it got me thinking, too... i guess my attitude changed a bit. not that i’ve always been the most extrovert of people, but, eh. i think i got a bit more closed. i’m barely talking at school, and i keep going back home as fast as possible when it’s over. yesterday a car drove fast beside me, and i had, i don’t know, some sort of an anxiety attack i guess? i was stuck there for a moment and then i started to run towards home. luckly these things rarely happen while i go towards school... up to now i went right back home just a few times. it’s going well, i think?

i really needed a little present, though this one is a bit expensive. i think it’s the first new thing i can consider mine, apart from my new clothes. i might bring it to school too, haha-

[unawakc]

📔  ▷  anonymous ​ ↳   MEMORIES FROM A JOURNAL.  accepting!

   september 14th, 20xx this morning i woke up thinking that i should have said dad i wanted to stay home longer. mostly because i was very sleepy at first, i’ll admit... but then it grew worse. i was in the bathroom getting ready, and i look at myself in the mirror. i’m... getting used to this. you know, eyes turning black, my skin becoming green, though at the moment it’s a colour in-between what it was and the green dad told me i would become... but it’s it’s just. weird. i haven’t seen anyone from when we moved in this city. therapist said i might have a bit of agoraphobia, though... i don’t know? i’m afraid of going out, but because of the others. but, whatever, i’m not sure, regardless though i haven’t seen anyone if not my dad, and now i’m just... going in a place full of people? monsters? am i sure i want to do that...?

i was thinking about these things and i was. very anxious about the thing. eventually i went to school anyway, i... don’t know why. i got in front of the school and i was so tense, i could have fled any moment. but i pushed myself inside, regardless of how tense i was (dad says i might also be a little tense for the whole being dead thing, and told me that i should do sport again, it might help keep my body elastic. pretty sure he’s right, but i don’t really feel like doing a sport now...).

when inside the school, though, it was so weird? some looked at me funny, probably because i was a human, so i heard. but most people simply... waved at me, or ignored me. i didn’t feel in danger (well, if not once, there was a weird blooby monster that surely wanted to greet me, but almost ended up getting me stuck inside his body. they apologized though), and it’s been... fine. a much better new beginning than what i thought.

i didn’t talk to anybody, though. i was feeling too nervous for that.

[unawakc]

📔 !!!!!!!  ▷  @royalreef​ ↳   MEMORIES FROM A JOURNAL.  accepting! 

     august 5th, 20xx therapist says i have to write a journal. not everyday if i don’t want to, but ‘try to make an effort’, she said. i’m really not sure why i should write this, though. dad bought me a journal immediately on the way home, so i could start immediately if i wanted to, and i’m just. kinda here now. it’s almost midnight, dad’s sleeping, and i’m writing.

i was sleeping too, to be fair, but i woke up. umpteenth nightmare, like i always do lately... but, like, it’s the only thing i have that i can say makes me feel a bit bad, because i don’t feel bad at all. all’s fine.

... i mean, yeah, i’m... dead. it’s. hard to really get used to. but it’s not the ‘being dead’ part that gives me that many problems, i mean yeah i have to adapt to a new way of... living? i guess? can i write living though being dead? i don’t know man, things are complicated. but yeah, it’s not that. my nightmares aren’t about being a spooky scary zombie eating brains. they’re about that car... it’s just that. i would dream of hanging out with friends or dad, and then suddenly the car arrives. the car sooner or later always arrives.

but other than that i’m fine. i just fall asleep again minutes later, usually. maybe being 100% monster now will stop people from thinking it’s funny to insult me though. ... or other cars.

dad says we’ll see how i’m feeling in a few weeks before deciding if i’ll go to school at september or wait a little more. honestly, i think i just want to return to a normal routine. though i really don’t miss homework.

[unawakc]

“Put it back, put it back, PUT IT BACK!”  ▷  @royalreef​​ ​​ ↳   EVERYBODY PANIC!!  accepting!

« AAH! OKAY OKAY OKAY-!! ». brian almost drops... whatever miranda wants him to put back, taken so much by surprise by their sudden panic that the object slips from one hand, is caught by the other only to slip again, and then both grasp it and put it back in their backpack. okay, it’s safe. it’s safe! everyone’s safe!

the undead takes a moment to recollect himself, hands rushing up as soon as the object is once again safe in its spot, and turns towards the merfolk with a mildly concerned look.

« sorry! sorry, geez. it was shining, i j-just wanted to see what it was! »

[unawakc]

“ my lemonade in my vodka melatonin is not good. ”  ▷  @roskaarotta​​ ↳   WE SAY A LOT OVER DISCORD.  accepting!

« ah. ». he (badly) acts surprised, but he’s not surprised. actually, he’s much more sleepy than not surprised - enough to not realize that lemonade, vodka and melatonin are a very, very weird combination of words to hear in a single sentence.

he takes a loooong sip of his pepsi, side glancing at molly as he... mostly thinks of what to answer. “ah” is too little, isn’t it. and to say pepsi should contain caffeine and wake you up... or, wait, was it the coke cola?

« ... told ya you should have gotten a fanta instead. », because sparkling orange juice solves every problem instead of the lemonade... vodka... melatonin... thing.

[unawakc]

it’s almost 1am and i definitely overestimated my writing endurance late at night. luckly, it means that i’m finally returning to be sleepy when i should! tomorrow i’ll answer all the inbox stuff - and thank you already to everyone who sent them! it means a lot, i’ll make sure to answer soon. <3 and also answer to that ask sent a month ago which tumblr didn’t notify me of at all, I’M SORRY MOLLY, I’LL ANSWER YOURS FIRST TOMORROW,,,

[unawakc]

dxthemxnstermash / oz...?

He’s having a battle with himself, still clawing at his own arm as he pulls the zombie closer. It’s been a long while since he ate something living - well… kind of -, and he really doesn’t want his first breathing meal to be his friend.

And yet, when Brian manages to hold onto something to avoid being dragged in, he’s the one finally dragging himself near the other, leaving a trail of black, screaming goo behind him as he towers over the fellow student, the hand still clawing at his ankle squeezing a little harder to ensure he’ll remain in place.

“Ë̵́͜m̶̺̤̐̎ǫ̶̌ċ̶͕ ̴͖̓̒t̷͎͚̀n̴̙͋͒ò̸̢̕’̷͈͌̎w̵̯̒͒ ̷̡̱̈p̶͔̭̈́l̸͉̎̏e̶͔̺̒h̵̙̔ͅ.” scream the Phobias in his head, the ones left behind in that trail of goo, the few that fall on Brian’s face “Y̷r̶g̴n̷u̷h̸e̵ ̷r̴e̴.̴ ̴W̶m̶i̵ ̶h̷t̸a̵.̷ ̸E̶s̶’̸u̴y̸ ̸f̸s̴i̷t̴a̸s̷.̵

Y̸̛̺r̷̼̍g̶̡̑n̴͍̿ù̵̺h̵̠͋. Y̸̺̤͇͆̏̈́r̸̜̝̐g̵͓͆ņ̵̠̘̚ȗ̵̱̈̍h̸̢̧̪̑ Y̸̦̦͎̭̍̈́̑͝r̷̛͓g̵͍̳̭̩̯̈́͝n̷̳̓͆̀̇̾͘̚u̶̡͖̭̪̓̐͜h̶̨̦͖̾̍̒͜–”

                                    –Oz already opened his maw, when he stops.                                               Blinks.                                               Focus on Brian’s face, on his words.                                               On that nickname.

                                               And slowly goes to look at the hand holding him down.

“…D̶o̶n̶'̴t̷ ̵l̸o̸o̴k̵.̶“

As he closes his mouth around his own arm, digging his fangs in his ‘skin’ and muffling a loud yelp by just crunching deeper, he just hopes the zombie heard him and closed his eyes, avoiding to look as Oz, after a few seconds of struggling, finally breaks that part of his body, pulling with enough violence to make him fall on his side, spitting and coughing.

What remains of the limb still attached to Brian melts, letting go of him as it turns into a puddle of blood screaming slime, a chorus of broken noises of pain and anger that fades away in a matter of a few seconds. It’s as if the phobias around Oz feed on that pain and on their host’s own fear, for the matter, silently having the meal they asked for and leaving him as the trembling little humanoid he’s used to be once they’re satisfied - a trembling, sobbing mess who, after a while, can just mutter a sincere, broken “…oww–”, holding on his self inflicted stump.

It’s… going to take a while to form a new arm.

seeing oz drag himself nearer him cuts off any other word he might have had somewhere to be said. brian can only remain there, petrified at that sight, unable to even think straight anymore. would other words even work, at this point? is oz there in the first place anymore...?

dense black drops fall on him, and new little screams add on to the others, their voices so light yet making such a horrible chorus to the scene. the young undead is still holding to the door frame out of mere panic, because holding there isn’t useful, is it? it’s not going to stop him. what is happening? what is happening...? why is it going like this...? and he’s not sure if it’s the influence of the phobic, but as brian closes his eyes at the maw, he can almost see again that car’s headlights running towards him. seeing again his death, does it mean he’s going to die? again...? is... is it even possible...?

thoughts just keep on amassing on each other... for way longer than the few seconds he expected to live. it’s like everything stopped. and slowly, carefully, brian opens his eyes again. oz is staring down, at his own hand. and then, before the young undead could understand his thoughts, he hear it.                           DON’T LOOK.

he hears it, but he obeys just a moment too late. just enough to see oz violently biting his own arm, and blood spilling out of the maw. brian’s reaction is of immediate pure panic: his hands let go of the door frame and rush to the face, covering the eyes and partially the mouth, wide open in a scream of terror. he can feel himself trying to tell something, but he’s not sure of what, and his sounds don’t articulate in nothing with a sense.

it takes seconds long like eternity before everything dies out. the hold on his legs chase to exist with last screams from the phobias, and then there’s only the two of them - oz sobbing, brian panting. his hands get off the visage slowly, as he’s afraid of finding the friend still as a monstrosity, near him and ready to eat. and instead, he finds him slumped on the ground, holding his mutilated arm. trembling like him, if not even more. two trembling messes, both lying on the floor.

« ... o... ozzie...? »

brian attempts to stand up, but his legs feel like butter. he finds himself more weakly dragging himself towards the phobic than walking near him. and when beside him, one hand goes to touch him, but finds itself unable to do it. he... he doesn’t know what to do. it just hovers on oz, trembling and unsteady. even the eyes don’t know where to look at first, before finding the mutilated arm, and suddenly he’s unable to get his eyes away from there.

« y... you’re... bl...eeding... » he stutters. « i... wh... what do... i do...? do... do i... call a... an am-ambul-lance...? o... ozzie...? you’re... you’re bleeding... what... what do i d-do...? »